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Long Night

I glanced at the clock at the bedside table. 6:30. I smoothed my dress on my tummy and looked at myself in the mirror. My dress looked really fine to me. It was a navy blue cocktail dress with a low V-neck; it falls 4 inches above my knee, it was really short. The skirt hugged my waist freely and it twirled every time I moved. In short, it wasn’t conservative. It’s against all the kind of dress that my mom introduced me before. It doesn’t matter. She wasn’t here.

I took a deep breath and checked on my makeup. My lids was covered with dark blue eye shadow but my lips was only tainted in light pink gloss. Red hot lipstick wasn’t my thing. My hair was also done into an intricate bun, thanks to all the hair lessons that my mom gave me. I rolled my eyes at that.

All in all, I am dressed finely for this evening. I was hoping to meet Channing Tatum and… I sighed loudly. C’mmon Ron, admit it. You want to see him. “Yeah yeah.” I murmured to myself as I headed out the door.

The ball was far from what I expected. It was really elegant. Elegant elegant. I fished my phone from my small purse and texted Jill.

Fuck this. Everything is expensive! I texted.

Suit yourself. Enjoy.

I glanced around. Well everything was really expensive. Of course, it’s Sorrento. Everything was enriched with Italian architecture; the fancy chandeliers were hanging everywhere. The light was in romantic dark yellow light, and a bright light was focused in the stage with a podium. The theme was in black and white, contrasting the lightning of the place. Expensive people were everywhere too. I caught some familiar people, definitely high class people from the company I was in. Some celebrities too. I realized I was awkwardly standing beside the grand door while twiddling my thumbs. I sighed loudly. You can do this Veronica.

I headed straight to the bar. Maybe some alcohol can build me up, but not too much or I’ll s**t myself again. The bartender smiled his charms to me and asking me for a drink. “White wine please.” I said then within 5 seconds, my order was ready. Whoah, fancy bartender. Suddenly, a guy in white tux appeared in the stage− he must be the MC. Everyone stopped talking and turned their attention to the stage. I just stayed seated at the bar.

“Good evening ladies and gentlemen. I am welcoming you…” I stopped listening to whatever the MC was saying. I looked around again hoping to see Channing Tatum or Dyl−

“Mr. Dylan Claude!” The MC announced. Just from his surname, my head automatically snapped back to the stage and I saw him.

Oh. My. God. All dressed in black. He was walking smoothly to the podium and I stopped breathing. The light was on him and I could see all of him. f*****g hell. Now I realised that he was blonde, dirty blonde. There was shades of brown on it. His hair was messy, in a sexy way and it was curly and a bit long, but not too much. I realised I was staring at him and disregarding all the things around me. And I was positive that my mouth was open. In shock. He was really breathe-taking, panty-wetting specimen. It was like you were looking to a Calvin Klein model walking with only his undergarments on. And that lips, oh the same lips that kissed me.

“…thanking all of you for coming to this party.” Oh, he was talking while he looked around, then finally, his eyes settled on me. His lips twitched and my heart started pumping blood three time faster than the usual. How did he knew I was here? He kept on talking, thanking all the major sponsor of the ball, but his eyes was locked to me. Crap. My cheeks were flaming and I felt already hot just by his stare! His gazed was regarding me in some way I could not fathom. Nervousness crept to my neck until I realised he was walking down the stage and disappearing to the crowd. Oh men. I said to myself disappointingly. But what if he was with a date. With Myrtle Williams. Oh, f**k me. I dropped my head. What the hell was I thinking? Of course he would come with a date! With his girlfriend! With that goddess! Ugh. Jealousy crept to me. I felt the corner of my eyes water. Oh damn! My mascara would be ruined! I grudgingly grabbed my purse and walked to the powder room. Gladly there was no one inside. I looked myself in the mirror, checked my eyes for smudges, thank god there was none. I put my hands on the either side of the sink and lowered my head. I took a deep calming breath and closed my eyes.

Dammit, you came here for Channing Tatum, right? I mentally scolded myself. I stayed like that for a few minutes, until someone came in. I grabbed my purse and exited. The crowd was slightly hot when I came out. But the first thing that my eyes saw was Dylan. He was talking to a couple, his hands firmly locked behind him, his aura was professional. I noticed that there was no one beside him. Maybe feeling my gaze to him, he looked me straight in the eye and I gasped. How could he do that? I was watching me intently but I refused to remain where I was. I walked to the left, my stride longer than usual, but I stopped on my tracks.

I saw a very, awfully familiar figures with their back to me. Brown and blonde heads. Bryan and Mickey.

They were talking to an old lady, then when she walked away, they faced each other then started to make out. Their hands wandered in each other’s body, obviously not giving a f**k that they are in a public, yet elegant place. My chest tightened. I found myself walking to the nearest bar and sat in one of the stools. I felt dumb. My desire to see Channing Tatum was gone. My excitement to see Dylan was gone. Because of the two shitheads. The bartender seemed to sense my mood and quietly pushed a small glass of something in front of me. I absentmindedly grabbed and drank it, wincing as the liquid set my throat on fire. It still f*****g hurt seeing the two together. They are f*****g happy. I found myself walking briskly to the nearest bar and slumped myself on one of the stools. I still couldn’t breathe properly. My eyes started clouding with tears that threatened to flow. But a teardrop freely fell in my cheek. Dammit! I fought the urge to sob, which would be embarrassing. The brunette bartender raised an eyebrow, but didn’t mention anything.

“Wine, love?” She asked.

“No, a bit more stronger than that.” I squeaked, wiping the teardrop from my cheek.

“Give her whiskey.” A deep, achingly familiar voice said.

Every hair on my body prickled. No, not now. Before I could turn my head to face him, Dylan’s tall figure slid on the stool beside me, a faint smile plastered on his lips as he faced the bartender who flushed crimson. So it’s not just me. He’s playing his lower lips with his thumb, then finally, he slowly faced me. My gazed was firmly locked in the creature beside me. f**k. He smelled so f*****g good. His aura showed dominance, authority and control, just like the CEO that he was.

“Make it two.” He said to the bartender without removing his gaze from me. Maybe he noticed some smudges under my eyes as his hands slowly reached for my left eye, his thumb gently caressed the edge of my eye, clearing the smudges in the process. Reality slapped me as I heard the clicking of glasses in front of us. I started fidgeting on my seat, not knowing what to do. He studied me for a brief moment. Geez, what did he want? He slowly pushed one of the glass to me. I stared at the glass for a moment. Whisky, a strong one. I absentmindedly grabbed it and drink all of it in one shot. Damn, it was setting smooth fire on my throat.

“Fancy seeing you here again.” He said, his eyes locked to me. s**t, that accent, it shot boiling blood in my system. I didn’t knew how to respond so I just threw him a sad smile. I stared at my glass again.

“You look miserable. I’m a good listener.” He said in a low, gentle voice that seemed to sooth my aching heart. He leaned closer to me, I could almost feel the heat radiating from him. Crap. I glanced behind me, staring at the two who was still making out. Geez, get a room. Dylan glances to where I was looking at, then his brows raised but didn’t said a thing.

I sighed. Maybe a little information won’t hurt me. I bit my lower lip. “My ex is here.” I paused. “With my replacement.” He didn’t even bat an eyelid. Then I continued. “Whom he introduced to me as his cousin.” I stared at the wall opposite to me, while my fingertips play with the edge of my glass.

“Ouch” he mouthed, holding his chest with his hand.

“And he knocked her up.” I added, my eyebrows raised.”

“He’s an arse.” I said, stifling a giggle. Arse, I like that word. I couldn’t help but smile, then eventually, I giggles too.

“What so funny?” he said, his amusement obvious in his voice.

“You. You used ‘arse’”. I said between giggles. “Well, I’m British, I can’t help it.” He replied, this time he giggled too.

“I thought you were only half British” I giggled again, then I realized what I had said then stopped. Oh s**t. Now I sounded like a stalker. This whiskey seemed to dilute my brain-to-mouth filter. He stopped giggling, but a grin was still on his face as he motioned to refill our glass. Surely my cheeks were flaming right now. I mentally kicked my ass. He didn’t speak for a moment, and I stared at my whiskey again. f*****g hell, this was really embarrassing.

“Yeah, I am. But I grew up in London, so I consider myself as a British.” I didn’t reply. Damn this whiskey! He noticed that I was comfortable so he shifted the conversation.

He leaned back, then placed his left hand behind me, invading my personal privacy. “I think I’m being rude here. Sorry for that. I kissed you and all, but we still never had a proper introduction.” He said in a clam voice. I mentally winced, damn did he really have to mention our kiss? I peeked him through my lashes and he was looking intently to me. I felt my mouth became dry, so licked it with my tongue. His eyes followed the movement of my tongue and his lips parted. s**t, I knew where this was going.

“I’m Ron.” I muttered quickly. He seemed to be taken aback and his gazed left my lips.

“Ron.” He said, testing my name. “That’s unusual for a beautiful woman.” Beautiful?! I flushed again. s**t me.

“It’s short for Veronica. I’m Veronica Brooks.” I said then pursed my lips. He smiled widely then leaned slightly offering his right hand between us. “Nice to meet you, Veronica. Mine’s Dylan Claude.” Oh I already knew who you are, Dylan Christopher.

I grabbed his hand and we shook slightly, his gaze never left mine, a sexy smile spread on his lips. In my surprise, he brought my hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it. My lips parted. His green eyes seemed black now, his pupils dilated. I felt hotter too, was it because of his presence? I could feel his lips on my hand and suddenly felt uncomfortable but yet I didn’t have the urge to bring my hand back. The by passers startled us both, I quickly drew my hand back. f**k them!

“So… Did you come with a date?” he said while briefly glancing around.

“Nope. You?” I asked, hoping that Myrtle Williams didn’t came with him.

“Same here. So… You and your ex… and his b***h?”

I gave him a brief story about them, then by time, I became comfortable with him. He was really funny, and he really have a great sense of humour. And whenever he laughed, I swear he was really handsome, and I found myself staring at him while listening. Well, generally, he talked about his weird business associates, him sucking at playing golf. We talked for about half an hour, then our conversation shifted to me.

“What’s your job?” he asked.

Stalking you. “I’m an assistant associate in an endorsement firm.”

He snapped his fingers then grinned. “Oh− that’s why you were there at Stan’s.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You really made that night lucky.” He murmured. What?

Oh gosh, he was looking at me intently, like he was memorising my every move. I couldn’t bear to look at him. Shitshitshit. He’s face was so close from mine now, I could almost feel his breathe. My head was swimming, and I really felt like a Jell-O. “Your lips tasted good. I want to taste it again.” My jaw dropped slightly from his primitiveness. f**k, he’s going to kiss me! My heart tripled its beat, my whole body became warm, and then there was a funny feeling in my stomach again. His breathe was in my upper cheeks, then with a jerky movement, I grabbed my half-filled whiskey glass, then I clumsily tipped my glass too far back that some of the liquid slavered to my chin and to my throat, and hell, I could feel the liquid dampened my strapless bra and my dress− Jill’s dress. f**k, she’s going to rip my throat out! I whimpered, then Dylan handed me a couple of tissue while laughing hardly. Bastard. I glared at him and he was trying to hide his laughter with his fist. I ignored him and started to wipe the tissue in the exposed V-neck of my dress. Crap, now I smelled like I bathe in a whiskey tub. I stink! Ugh, could this night get more horrible? I felt like a total loser. I stopped wiping my dress, it’d do no help. s**t, I hate this feeling of being wet with my clothes. Grabbing my purse, I faced Dylan with annoyed expression. “I’ll be going. I stink now.” I said, rolling my eyes. Thank God he wasn’t smirking like he did earlier, but he later frowned.

“You can’t go like that.” He simply said, while grabbing my arm down. I know right, and that’s why I needed to go.

I sighed, exasperated. “I can’t go around like this.” I said while emphasising the wetness of my dress. “Change, then.” He said, his face dead serious. s**t, did he want me to stay? “I’m sorry, I can’t. I don’t have a room here.” He looked at me, surprise. ‘Cause I’m just a poor woman. I mentally rolled my eyes.

His frowned deepened. “Where are you staying at?”

“Um, in my apartment. Fermont.”

His lips turned into a thin line, obviously he’s not pleased. I didn’t understand why. Suddenly, he reached inside the pocket of his dark suit, produced a silver metallic card thingy. He handed it to me. Huh? I frowned at him, not understanding everything.

He c****d his head to side, but his expression was still dead serious. He urged me to get off the stool and we made our way through the crowd. Fortunately, I didn’t see the two anymore. I looked up at him, his face was expressionless, and I pursed my lips. Crap, did I piss him off because I didn’t let him kiss me? A group of people came beside me, some of them obviously drunk, they were walking slurry and one of them crashed with my shoulder. I slightly lost my balance, my head was suddenly dizzy, well, I was a bit tipsy, and thankfully, Dylan grabbed both of my shoulders to steady me. Oh God, I was never going drinking whiskey again!

“You okay?” Dylan asked, concern plastered all over his face.

“Uh yeah. Where are we going?” His mouth twitched, but he answered me this time. “You can go to my suite. You can wash yourself.” Wait− What?! Before I could struggle to his hold, we were near to an elevator and he gently pushed me inside, but he didn’t came with me. Okay, something’s weird was going on in here.

“16th floor.” He said then the elevator door closed, leaving me flabbergasted.

Shit.