Indeed, during the nights that elapsed between our Friday night date and Monday’s work day, I found myself plagued with sensual dreams of this siren I was just coming to know. Again and again I remembered her kiss and the passion it promised and I ventured to dream of what would happen if I tempted her further, exposing her to a whole new world of pleasure that she just might find irresistible.
Alternately, she might just slap me silly and call me out for the pervert I am. Somebody needs to give me a good slap right now, to straighten me out, to remind me of the fact that I’m entering into this arrangement with Lily just to please my father, and to keep my job and my inheritance. Of course I would continue to see my real girlfriends on the side; and, of course, Lily also would be free to see anyone she liked on the nights that we weren’t together.
And I won’t be jealous at all, I insisted with a sniff.
Finally Monday morning arrived. Awakening earlier than usual, I dressed up a bit in the royal blue suit I knew Lily liked; taking special care to comb my hair to perfection and splash on just a hint of the cologne that drove most of my dates insane.
Of course, Lily wasn’t anything like those girls; and as I finally drove up to the impressive front entrance of our towering office building, I felt much like a nervous school boy ready to meet his teacher. I even felt my heart pound a bit as I exited my car, and I cleared the door of our office suite with no small degree of trepidation; meeting her with a questioning look as I approached her desk.
“I’ll do it,” she told me, dispensing with all pleasantries as she folded her arms before her. “But on my terms. While we’re at the office, Oliver, we will remain strictly professional, focusing only on our work and on our clients. And while I’d be more than pleased to accompany you to any function, especially the ballet, and to allow you to purchase the occasional gift for me—preferably at Dalton’s Department Store, on the corner of Fifth and Main downtown, right next to Bozo’s Novelty Shop, where I also like to browse on occasion—I cannot and will not provide you with any, ur, personal services.” She paused here, thrusting her hand out in my direction. “Deal?”
I took her hand in mine and rose it to my lips for a long, smooth kiss. For just a moment we stood in silence, staring at one another as memories of our special evening flooded my mind.
“Deal,” I whispered, staring deep into her eyes. “And I’d very much like to discuss our arrangement further over dinner. Are you free Wednesday evening?”
Lily thought for a moment, then nodded.
“I’ll have to take a second look at my social schedule, but—oh, who am I kidding?” she scoffed, rolling her eyes heavenward. “Give me a free meal and another chance to play dress up, and I’ll be there. Just please keep in mind, of course, that I’m only doing this to help save your hide around here, and mine, for that matter.”
I nodded.
“Understood,” I reassured her, adding with arched eyebrows, “I only hope that, while you’re busy saving our hides, you’ll manage to have just a little bit of fun as well.”
***
Lily
So what was the big deal? I’d been to Dalton’s Department Store dozens of times; but usually only on Clearance Days, or during specially designated holiday sales. This time when I passed its impressive double doors, I was personally escorted back to a room filled with beautiful outfits custom selected for me; dresses and pantsuits emblazoned with my favorite colors of scarlet red, pearl pink and pure ebony; and although these clothing items varied greatly in terms of color and style, their price tags were nearly identical.
“You. Have. Got. To. Be. Joking.” I shook my head in sheer wonder as I regarded these tags. “I mean, this is absurd. I don’t pay this much in rent each month.”
I jumped as my words were met with a low, smooth chuckle; one emanating from the man who sat before me in a cherry wood chair at the center of the Dalton’s show room.
“Don’t look at the price tags, babe,” Oliver said, himself sharply dressed in a sleek white pant suit, waving away my concerns with a dismissive hand. “Just the clothes. Pick out what you like, try it on, and let me know the verdict. Then I shall proceed to buy anything and everything you happen to like. Does that work?”
I thought a moment, then nodded.
“My name is not babe, Oliver. It’s Lily,” I informed him, even as I pulled a sleek scarlet dress from its place on a defenseless garment rack and secured it in my hot little hands. “And, yes, that works just fine.”
Moments later I stood in the Dalton’s dressing room, facing the image of a woman I didn’t know.
No, my space hadn’t been unexpectedly invaded by a creeper of the female persuasion. I was rather confronted by a mirror image that didn’t seem true to its source. Surely the raven-haired temptress in the sleek, knee length red satin dress wasn’t me. I had no idea that a single dress could be so transformative; accentuating my curves, illuminating my skin and setting off my freshly brushed hair.
“Wow,” I breathed, turning with a flourish for the door of the dressing room.
This same sentiment was reflected in the eyes of the man that awaited me in the showroom.
“Lily,” Oliver breathed, surging from his chair to approach me at the center of the room.
Taking my hand in his, Oliver raised it high above my head and twirled me in a dramatic flourish; his eyes devouring me from head to toe as he breathed, “A lily in bloom.”
Snapping his fingers to attract the attention of a nearby sales clerk, Oliver instructed her to find a diamond necklace with matching earbobs; both of us marveling as she produced some brilliant baubles to accompany my stunning new dress.
“My princess,” he breathed, his sturdy fingers feeling the dazzling gems that lingered at my throat—also grazing the sensitive skin that lay underneath. “You’re just glowing.”
With gentle hands he turned me in the direction of a nearby mirror; allowing me to witness the shine of the diamonds as they glowed radiant in the lights above us.
He expressed similar reactions to the next five outfits I tried on; four of which also struck a chord of awe in my slightly dazzled psyche. The pearl pink pantsuit ironically braided with actual, honest to God beads. The black velvet mini dress both sleek and sexy. The azure blue sundress that dipped low at the neck and flared becomingly at the skirt. The ivory lace gown that fell to my feet and rose high at the neck. Each of these apparel pieces was a work of haute couture, sure to render me the belle of the ball at any party, night club or formal function.
Too bad the last outfit which was a lime green pantsuit that would make Marilyn Monroe appear drab and staid.
“Breathtaking,” Oliver praised, applauding me in full view of the shop.
“Bull hockey,” I replied, planting my hands square on my curvaceous hips. “Wait here while I slip back into the red number and we’ll head over to Le Jardin. It’s obvious that your hunger is affecting your eyesight.”
Soon I found myself back at the site of our first formal date eating a luscious feast of French onion soup, tender, succulent beef bourguinon, creamy au gratin potatoes, and chocolate ganache. The food was heaven on a plate and my companion was heaven on legs. I’d fall just short of calling him an angel…
“Enjoying yourself, Lily?” Oliver purred, breaking my train of thought irrevocably with his soft, dulcet tones. “I hope so, because I myself am thoroughly enjoying my time with you.”
I snorted.
“Now why on earth would I enjoy myself?” I sniffed out, rolling my eyes heavenward. “You’ve bought me a whole new wardrobe, each piece of which carries a price tag that equals my monthly car payment. And you spotted me a diamond necklace that bears a suspicious resemblance to the one my mom had to wait a quarter century for. Indeed, it took my dad all that time to save up for that bauble, which he gave to her as a 25th anniversary gift. Now you’re paying for me to eat a dinner to die for, most components of which I can’t easily pronounce.”
Oliver chuckl
ed.
“Oh darling, don’t sell yourself short,” he chided me, adding as he ran his free hand through the tendrils of my hair. “I bet you not only could spell and pronounce each and every one of the dishes we enjoyed today, but you probably could tell me something about their origins, and the master chef that created them. Just like in the department store, when I bought you the Chanel perfume and you told me all about the wonderful life of Coco Chanel.”
I nodded.
“I must admit she’s an idol of mine,” I beamed. “In a time when women weren’t supposed to work at all, she worked her way up from nothing, creating an empire that took Paris and the world by storm. What an amazing woman!”
“Well look who’s talking!” Oliver replied, eyes aglow with what seemed to be tender admiration. “Lily, most of the ladies I date couldn’t even pronounce Coco’s last name. They’d be asking me just which ‘channel’ was sponsoring the perfume, ABC or NBC. And now thanks to you, I have every intention of renting that movie you mentioned, that tells her life story.”
I grinned.
“Coco Before Chanel, starring Audrey Tautou and directed by Anne Fontaine—I’m a big aficionado of female directors, from Lupino to Bigelow,” I supplied. “Put it on your Netflix queue, I command you. And if you like, I could also recommend a lot of great books about Coco’s life.”
“I insist on it,” Oliver agreed, adding as he raised my hand to his full, warm lips for a delectable kiss, “Providing, of course, that you watch the movie with me, filling me in, of course, on any gaps in Coco’s life that the film may have missed.” He paused here, nudging my shoulder with gentle affection as he added, “This is one of the reasons I love the idea of this arrangement, Lily. I want to see everything through your eyes, from the ballet to the theater, books to Broadway plays. I can’t wait to drink in more of your knowledge, both in and out of the office.”
Covering his hand on my shoulder, I met his affectionate gaze with one of my own as I told him, “Well thanks to you, Oliver, I can actually own and wear some of Coco’s finest perfume and see some of the plays and ballets that until now I’ve only heard about,” I paused here, shaking my head in wonder at the very idea. “I have to admit it, Oliver, I can’t wait to get started. And if I happen to teach you a thing or two along the way, well, all the better.”
I took in my breath as his fingers clenched mine. Slowly and deliberately his thumb rubbed my palm as he whispered, “And perhaps, Lily, I could teach you a thing or two in return. Things you just might enjoy, very much.”
Clearing my throat loudly, I wrenched my hand from his and grabbed up my fork.
“Behave, Oliver,” I chided him, adding as I gestured around us with a very proud and purposeful utensil, “Not in front of the stuffy French restaurant.”
Two hours later we finished up a sumptuous three course dinner at the center table at Oliver’s favorite French restaurant; and I blushed in spite of myself as he called over a strolling violinist that strolled free across the plush ivory carpeting that lined the floor of the eatery.
“Do you know ‘Ma Cherie Amour’?” he asked him.
The violinist nodded.
“Mais bien sur,” he affirmed, launching in to the opening notes of the signature love song.
“He just said, ‘But of course!’” I clapped my hands, adding with a smile, “Those French lessons you’ve been giving me between our meetings are really starting to stick.”
Letting loose with a melodious laugh, Oliver surged with a flourish from his seat and extended a chivalrous hand in my direction.
“Care to dance?” he offered on a whisper, arching his feathered eyebrows in my direction.
In lieu of a verbal answer I accepted his hand, standing from my seat to join him on the compact dance floor that occupied the center of Le Jardin.
Taking me gently into the clasp of his strong, sturdy arms, Oliver pulled me closer than close as we swung across the crisp tiled floor; staring deep into my eyes as our hands joined and our gazes collided.
“Now Oliver…” I let loose with a nervous laugh. “Let’s make this our first and last dance of the evening. We do have work tomorrow, and we’d better get to bed early.”
I regretted my words seconds later, as the mention of the word ‘bed’ brought a curious gleam to Oliver’s cocoa hued eyes; a gleam that soon erupted into a narrow eyed leer that stole my breath.
“Why Ms. Ashton,” he murmured into my ear. “I do like the way you think.”
I had heard enough.
“I meant that we should go to bed separately, at our respective homesteads,” I clarified, clearing my throat loudly. “We do, after all, have a meeting with your dad and our new clients first thing at 9 a.m…”
Shushing me gently, Oliver pulled me closer to him and nestled my neck; his full, moist lips rubbing my skin
“No more talk of business, Lily.” Oliver said my name like the sweetest poetry. “I want you to enjoy your time with me, my dear. Think of this whole experience… as your fantasy.”
Without awaiting a response, Oliver pulled me closer to him; his luscious lips nestling my earlobe as he began to croon in my ear; singing the tender lyrics of ‘Ma Cherie Amour’ into my ear as I melted in response.
Throwing my head back, my eyes closed as I basked in the sounds of a flawless melody; my heart pounding as he pulled me closer still. As my head lowered to rest in the cradle of his massive, sculpted chest, my mind swam with memories of our first passionate kiss—suddenly I felt his lips on mine, as I recalled with relish our momentary indiscretion.
Only suddenly I realized that the kiss I experienced was no memory of times past. Oliver’s lips had claimed mine as he swayed me across the dance floor; bending my body backward in a thrilling dip as his smooth, full mouth rubbed and massaged my own.
For a timeless moment I surrendered to his kiss; devouring his lips as our tongues entangled and the music surged around us.
And then it happened. Of course it did. It just had to; as the violinist delivered the final notes of “Ma Cherie Amour,” someone just had to say it.
“I’ll have what she’s having.”
Bolting upright and out of Oliver’s arms, I bounded toward our table; collecting my purse and turning for the door.
“I’m taking a cab home,” I said over my shoulder, avoiding Oliver’s probing gaze and vigorous words of protest as I trotted across the floor. “I do believe, Oliver, that we’re doing too good of a job enacting this charade. It’s starting to feel just a little too real.”
These words echoed in my mind the next morning, as I walked with slow, trudging steps into our office suite; groaning aloud as I spotted a shiny gold bracelet awaiting me at the center of my desk, its gleaming surface catching the light as it seemed to await my arrival. This sight came as an unwelcome capper to a long and nearly sleepless night; one dotted with forbidden dreams of the man for whom I was beginning to develop a genuine affection. That is, when he wasn’t annoying me to no end.
“Oliver!” I called aloud, rolling my eyes heavenward as my boss sauntered casually around the corner. “What did I say yesterday? I really do appreciate the gifts, but this gold bracelet is just too much…”
“This is one of the bracelets I bought for you yesterday, at Dalton’s Department Store,” he interrupted me, making a broad gesture in the direction of the controversial bauble. “You wore it to dinner then, after our dance, you wrenched yourself so violently from my arms that your bracelet came off in my hand.”
I froze.
“Oh, I see,” I let loose with a self-conscious chuckle, quickly retrieving the lost bauble and affixing it to my wrist. “Sorry about that.”
Oliver chuckled.
“And I in turn am sorry if I came on a little too strong last night,” he allowed with a nod. “We’re having such a wonderful time together, and sometimes I get lost in the moment.”
I sighed.
“I’m having a wonderful time too,” I admitted, adding wi
th a shrug, “I think we just need to remember to keep our heads about ourselves and, furthermore, to think with those heads as opposed to other, more delicate body parts.”
Oliver nodded.
“Never an easy proposition for me,” he muttered, tone completely serious. “I think I have an idea, though. Why don’t we have a day date this Saturday? I could meet you at the Remington Country Club, where my family has a running membership, and treat you to some tennis lessons.”
I thought for a moment, then nodded.
“It’s a public place, we’ll be out in broad daylight, and our only vigorous physical activity will involve a tennis racket and some—um—balls,” I finished weakly, adding with a curt nod, “Sold.”
~
Chapter Five
~
Lily
Driving up the tree lined boulevard that fronted the Remington Country Club, I basked in the vision of the ebullient florals that lined my route; the ruby red roses, golden hibiscus and lavender lilies that filled the meadow beside me.
And in the midst of all this fragrant greenery was a man that himself resembled a sprite of the forest, with his thick, flowing cinnamon hair, round cocoa eyes and flawless features; if, that is, forest sprites ever made it a habit of wearing skintight blue jeans and a partially buttoned shirt. Oh, and freshly polished cowboy boots.