The Dating Series

by L. P. Dover

  I nod toward the house across the lake. “Look at the Stay Puft marshmallow man. He’s cute.” The chicken smells amazing so I dig in.

  He turns his head and looks, bursting out with laughter. “That’s pretty damn epic. I always watch Ghostbusters on Halloween.”

  I gasp. “Really?” I wipe my mouth with a napkin. “I was just thinking about that movie. I watch it too. Maybe not exactly on Halloween night, but always around there. Usually the last week of October.”

  Owen smiles and it makes me tremble. There’s something about his face that draws me to him. “After the charity dinner, we should watch it together. My theater room doesn’t get used very often.”

  “That would be great. I’ve always wanted my own in-home theater.” I spoon another bite of chicken and rice into my mouth and swallow before speaking again. “What are your favorite Halloween type movies?”

  His eyes twinkle. “That’s easy. The Monster Squad and The Legend of Sleepy Hollow.”

  “Oh, my God,” I laugh. “I haven’t watched The Monster Squad in forever. The werewolf used to creep me out. Especially the part where he gets blown up and all his body parts connect back together.”

  He nods. “Yep. And what gets me every time is when Horace kicks the werewolf in the balls and says the ‘Wolfman’s got nards’.”

  We both laugh so hard it hurts my chest. “We need to add that to our list of movies to watch.”

  Owen picks up his wine glass and takes a sip. “As you wish.”

  Hearing him say that makes my heart jump. All the breath rushes from my lungs and I freeze. It’s as if time stands still but only for me. I heard those words, just the other night at the party from my Gatsby. Don’t get me wrong, plenty of people say those words, but after hearing Owen, he sounds exactly like my mystery man. Could it seriously be him? I don’t see how. Owen’s eyes are green, not unless he wears colored contacts. I’d have to get closer to him to see if he is, but I can’t do that right now. I’m so confused I don’t know what to do.

  Owen stares over at me and pauses with his fork at his mouth. “Are you okay?” When his lips pull back in that smile of his, I know I’ve seen it before…and not just at the radio station or our meetings. If he is my Gatsby, does he know I’m his Daisy? Owen sets his fork down, his eyes searching mine. “Ensley?”

  Shaking my head, I snap out of it. “Yes, sorry. I’m fine. I was just thinking of other movies we can watch,” I say, lying. I need to figure out a way to see if it was him. Obviously, if he knew the mystery woman was me, he would’ve said something by now, right? I drink my glass of wine and pour another. I’m going to need a lot more before the night’s up. “Okay,” I begin, opening my notebook with the charity dinner details in it. Once we’re done with work, I’ll grill him about the masquerade. “I worked all morning on the charity event, getting everything squared away. The venue is set. I’ve booked the caterer and the guest list has been sent out. I received confirmation from most of the attendees.” I skim through all the pages and hand the notebook to him so he can see. “You know a lot of high-profile people. Guess it’s your charismatic personality.”

  He flips through the notebook and smiles. Now that I’m really looking at him, his hair is exactly like my mystery man’s as well. He’s wearing it the same way he did that first night at the masquerade over a month ago. Owen shuts the notebook and slides it over to me. What are the odds of it being him? Talk about coincidence.

  “Why thank you,” he replies with a smirk. “My parents always put together a charity event together every year. As they got older, it became too much work for them, so I took it over. With all sorts of celebrities and musicians visiting the station, I’ve become good friends with a lot of them. The guest list just kept growing. We raise about three million every year for local charities.”

  “That’s amazing. Is there a specific reason your parents started the event?” I ask. I’m definitely curious to know more about him.

  Owen finishes off his wine and sits back in his chair, averting his gaze to the lake. “My grandfather died from cancer when he was only fifty years old. I was young, so I don’t remember him, but my mom took it really hard. Donating to charities helps her cope.”

  “I’m so sorry. I can’t even imagine.”

  He focuses back on me. “That’s why I want to help. I have a friend whose son is autistic. Part of the charity money goes to Action for Autism. It’s amazing how far the money goes.”

  I never would’ve thought he’d be the way he is. He’s surprised me. “You’re a good man, Owen Jameson. I’m surprised some lucky woman hasn’t snagged you up yet.”

  He chuckles. “If we’re going to talk about that, I’m going to need the hot tub and more wine.”

  Standing, I finish off the rest of mine. “Sounds like a plan to me. I’ll go change.” We carry our plates into the kitchen, and I put them in the sink before going to my bedroom. I rummage through my dresser until I find my favorite black bikini. I slip it on and grab a couple of towels out of the bathroom. Is it dangerous to get in the hot tub with a man who could very well be my mystery man? Hell yeah, it is, but I have to know.

  As I’m walking down the hall, I hear the patio door close. I peek around the corner and see him through the window as he gets into the hot tub. Here we go. Carrying our towels, I take a deep breath and walk out the door. Owen watches me and it’s not hard to see the need in his eyes. He’s looked at me like that before. I set the towels down and slowly step into the steaming water. Instead of sitting beside him, I move to the opposite side so I can face him. The water is hot against my skin and I sigh as I slip further down into it.

  “All right, where were we?” I begin, grinning wide. “Oh yeah, you were going to tell me why some lucky woman hasn’t stolen you away. I find it hard to believe you’re single.”

  Owen shakes his head and laughs. “Why is that hard to believe?”

  I shrug. “You’re handsome, successful, funny, and you have good taste in Halloween movies.”

  He laughs again and runs a hand over his face. “I don’t know. Guess the right woman doesn’t know who I am.”

  That’s an interesting way of putting it. “Have you dated anyone recently?”

  His eyes narrow curiously. “I’ve been out a couple of times. You?”

  I nod. “Same.” Taking my hand, I glide it across the top of the bubbling water. “I was hoping to see you at the masquerade, but I never found you. Although Ferris Bueller did find me.”

  Owen chuckles. “Nice. I really do hate I missed you. I was there though. I’m sure you saw Damien in the middle of the dancefloor doing the Batdance.”

  Gasping, I slap a hand over my mouth. I had no clue it was him. “Wow. Although I’m not shocked. He seems like the type who could go out there and let loose.”

  “And he does,” Owen replies. “That’s what I like about him. I’m a little more reserved.”

  “So am I. For the most part.”

  He stretches his arm wide and rests them on the hot tub. “I’m turning the tables around on you right now. Why are you still single?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know. I guess I don’t go out as much as I used to. All my friends are married and having kids now. I can’t exactly go out by myself. That’s why the parties have been a blessing. I’ve met a lot of people that way.”

  “I have no doubt,” he says, his eyes slowly dropping to my lips and then back to my eyes. “I bet you have men waiting in line to talk to you.”

  This makes me laugh. “Not exactly. My mind has mostly been focused on work these days.”

  He snorts. “I understand that.”

  Clearing my throat, I avert my gaze to my hands as I move them through the water. “So, what were you dressed as at the masquerade?”

  Owen stares at me for a second and then smiles. “James Bond. You?”

  James Bond could easily pass as Gatsby. “I was a flapper girl,” I answer. “Some people say I reminded them of Daisy Buchanan from Gatsby.�
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  Owen’s gaze never wavers from mine. We stare at each other for a few minutes and I keep hoping he’ll say it was him, that he’s my Gatsby, but he doesn’t. Am I wrong? The only other way to know for sure is his eyes. He could easily be wearing colored contacts. Why he would want to cover up his gray and gold colors is beyond me. Then again, I wore blue colored contacts for a couple of years to make my eyes pop. Now I love my green eyes and I’m proud to show them off. All I have to do is get close enough to Owen to see if he’s wearing contacts. There’s usually a light-colored ring around people’s irises if they’re wearing them. It won’t prove he’s wearing colored ones, but it’ll at least, prove he has them on.

  Owen’s gaze drops to my lips again. “I hate I didn’t get to see you. I’m sure you were really beautiful.”

  “Thanks.” Slowly, I move closer to him and place my hands on his thighs. “I hate I missed you too.” I situate my body between his legs and his arms wrap around me, pulling me in close. It feels like I’ve been in his arms before. When I look in his eyes, I can see the rim around his irises. He is wearing contacts, but so do millions of other people. I want to tell him to take them out, but I don’t want to do it just yet. All I have left is to kiss him. I know his lips, his touch. They’re so close to mine, only a breath away. He closes the distance between us and as soon as his lips touch mine, I know. I open to him, allowing him to taste me and vice versa. It’s all so familiar.

  Owen gently pulls away and cups my cheeks. “Will you please be my date to the charity dinner? I’d love to have you by my side.”

  His hands slowly slide from my cheeks and I smile. “As in a date?”

  He gives me that sexy grin of his. “If that’s what you want. I know I’d like it to be.”

  “Then it’s a date.” There’s no denying it now. I know he’s my Gatsby. I just have to wait for the right time to tell him I’m his Daisy.

  Eight

  Owen

  “Tonight, I will tell Ensley the truth.” I stand in front of my full-length mirror and give myself a pep talk. The charade must end and is going to with one of two outcomes. Ensley is either going to accept the fact I’ve lied to her about who I truly am or she’s going to slap me in my face, punch me in my junk, and spit on my crumbled body. I am really, really, hoping for the former. I can’t imagine not having Ensley in my life right now.

  When Ensley kissed me the other night at her house, while we were enjoying the hot tub, I wanted to blurt out I’m her mystery man, I’m the one she’s secretly been involved with. I have no doubt in my mind she’s isn’t dating anyone other than me, even though we aren’t exactly dating. I’m that confident, especially when she invited me over to her house. To me, it was a sign.

  A sign I should’ve opened my mouth and told her I’m the Gatsby to her Daisy, but once again, I chickened out. I’m not even sure why. I think it’s because as soon as I’m near her, the only thing I want to do is kiss her and take her to bed.

  “Okay, I can do this.” My hands tug at the lapels of my tuxedo. “I can tell the woman who is driving me crazy in the best way possible I’m the one behind the mask.” Even as I look at myself, I’m not sure I’m confident enough to say those things to her. But damn it, I’m going to try.

  I take one last look around my apartment, satisfied with how everything looks. Ensley will be coming back here tonight, no masks, and no more secrets if all goes as planned. I’m thankful she had a keen sense of mind to book the ballroom in the same building as my penthouse. Not only is it spacious enough, but the ceiling is glass, and there is an expansive balcony that allows the guests to mingle outside. It’ll be a chilly night but I have a feeling Ensley saw this beforehand and has heaters set up.

  The doors of the elevator open, and an employee of my building greets me. “Good evening, Mr. Jameson. Enjoy your event.”

  “I plan to,” I say with a nod. As soon as I enter the ballroom, I accept a flute of champagne. I take a sip as I look over the people who have once again come out to help raise money for charities near and dear to me. Everyone from pro athletes, movie producers, and directors, to some of the most influential businesspeople in North Carolina are all here to help me.

  My eyes scan the crowd for Ensley. I know she’s here and we agreed once the event got underway, she would be my date for the evening. Honestly, I expected her to tell me no, that I’m paying her to work for the evening, but she told me Jordan could handle everything. It’s such a relief because after tonight, I’m really hoping to introduce her as my girlfriend next week at another gala I’m invited to.

  “Wow, this turn out.” Damien stands next to me, holding his champagne. “The auction items are amazing. Our network really came through.”

  “I know,” I say, taking another sip. “I’m about to throw down some serious cash on the football Cam Newton and the Patriots signed.”

  Damien sighs. “The Panthers were stupid to let him go.”

  “Did you see he had almost four hundred total yards the other week? Once the Pats defense figures things out, they’re going to dominate the league again.”

  He laughs. “New England sure has embraced him.”

  “Lucky bastards,” I mumble.

  Damien and I part ways. Even though this is my event, he will circulate and greet people on my behalf. That’s what partners do. Going into business with him has been one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.

  The second best—Ensley. She’s been worth every penny I’ve spent on events, just to have her in my life, and I’d spend it all over again if I had to.

  The woman of my dreams and fantasies is coming toward me in a black dress with a slit up to her thigh. If I’m lucky, I’ll get to her sprawled out on my bed, without a mask on. As soon as she’s within reach, I don’t hesitate to place my hand on her hip and pull her closer. I also don’t care who is around or watching us as I press my lips to hers. She gasps, in surprise, and I love every second.

  “I’m sorry for kissing you like that. I supposed I should’ve asked first.”

  She shakes her head slightly. “Not at all. I certainly didn’t ask you the other night when I kissed you.”

  I lean down and whisper in her ear. “If you hadn’t, I would’ve.” I can feel her cheek rise. I love that I can make her smile.

  When we pull apart, I keep my hand on her hip and gaze into her eyes. I’m about to tell her who I am when an old family friend approaches us.

  “Owen, it’s good to see you.” Mr. Richter sticks his hand out for me to shake, leaving me no choice but to remove my hand from Ensley’s hip. In this moment, I despise my father’s old golf buddy.

  “Mr. Richter, thank you for coming. Allow me to introduce you to Ensley Anderson, party planner extraordinaire.” The two of them shake hands.

  “Owen’s mother has told me all about you. I hear congratulations are in order.”

  Ensley looks at me questioningly. I shrug having no idea what he’s talking about.

  “So, when’s the big day? The Mrs. And I don’t want to miss it.”

  “Oh,” I say. “We haven’t set a date yet, but I’ll make sure my mom lets you know.” Within a few seconds, he’s gone and I’m wide eyed staring at Ensley. “Shit, I’m sorry. My mom mentioned Mr. Richter was having issues keeping things straight but I had no idea he was that bad.”

  “Oh, it wasn’t that bad, to assume we’re getting married before we’ve actually started dating or getting to know each other.”

  “Haven’t we?” I ask, taking the window of opportunity.

  Ensley meets my gaze. “Excuse me?” she says softly.

  I set my empty champagne flute down and ask her to follow me, even though I’ve taken her hand firmly in mine and have tugged her behind me. It takes me a moment or two to find a secluded space among the party goers, but do outside. When a waiter and another tray of champagne walks by, I grab us each one, needing the liquid courage.

  “I have something to tell you, but I need you to listen before
you say anything or walk away from me.”

  “I’m listening,” she says.

  I clear my throat and take a drink of the champagne. Here goes nothing. “In college, I was a flirt and dated, but never found someone I wanted to spend any time with. And then, Damien and I opened the company and women flocked to us, but none of them ever sparked any interest and after a month or two, I knew none of the women I dated at the time were the one for me.

  “Then, I went to this gala back in September and met this woman and I knew she was the one I’ve been waiting for. But the problem was, we met while wearing these masks and neither of us were willing to take them off because I think we both liked the mystery and the thrill of what we were doing. We didn’t exchange names and by morning, she was gone.

  “I couldn’t get her out of my mind and did the only thing I could think of and reached out to the owner of the Panthers and asked for the guest list because I needed to find out who this woman was. When I described her to him, he actually laughed at me and said my description sounded like Ensley Anderson, the party planner.

  “To the web and I went, and as soon as I saw your picture, I knew it was you but couldn’t for the life of me, figure out how to tell you I wanted to see you again, so I decided to throw the Halloween bash, and I fired the other party planner I had used before to do this charity event because I had to put myself in your path.

  “Earlier, I referred to you as extraordinaire when it came to your planning services, but a word like extraordinaire doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface of who you are to me. I know I’m risking it all, our friendship and budding romance, when I say this, but I’m the one behind the mask. The man you’ve shared secret rendezvous with, who you’ve allowed to ravage your body in ways I only dreamed possible. I’ve wanted to tell you so many times but haven’t found the courage and even now I’m sweating bullets and my heart is beating out of my chest. I’m so afraid you won’t want to be with me after this confession.”