it’s just another day for you, but I’ll never forget this. And I’ll never forget you.”
“Well thank you, ma’am. That means a lot. I hope you had a great time.”
I lunge into him and give him a hug. I think it takes him by surprise.
“Well, okay. Have a great night then.”
I finally let go of him, a little embarrassed. “I will. Thanks again.”
The concierge grins after watching what went down, and leads me to the middle of the lobby. I crane my head around. The hotel is incredible. Epinephrine pumps through my veins because it’s just, yeah. This whole experience is one big wow.
I pretend to be admiring the hotel, but I know exactly what I’m looking for. Rather, who I’m looking for. He has to be here, and I know exactly why he did all this.
I don’t see him anywhere, though. I stand there for at least five minutes, in the heels and dress, hair professionally styled. Enough time passes I start to feel silly, when a hand meets my lower back, and a gravelly voice lands in my ear.
“There’s my little prostitute. Almost didn’t recognize you.”
Before I can respond, he says, “Kidding. You always look amazing, but just…fuck.”
I still haven’t turned to look at him yet. “How would you know? You haven’t even seen my face yet.”
He leans into my ear and whispers, “Yes, I have, for the past five minutes. I always see you. I’m always watching.”
I grin, straight ahead, shaking my head, but goosebumps pebble up and down my arms at his words. I don’t know why him watching me from afar turns me on, but it does. “I don’t know how you did this. l just, I told you about Pretty Woman at break…” I turn as I’m saying the words, and WHAT?
My eyes get huge.
It’s definitely Rick in front of me, but I have to let my eyes adjust to make sure. The voice was the only thing that gave him away.
All I’ve ever seen Rick wear, even at work, in a professional office, is tattered jeans and some kind of vintage t-shirt, usually Led Zeppelin or The Rolling Stones, other than our first date when he dressed up, but it was nothing like this. He’s always got some ten-day scruff going, hair disheveled.
The man in front of me could put any of the men at work in suits to shame.
I reach up for his face and put a hand to his cheek, just to see if I’m in some kind of dream or alternate universe. “Is that really you?”
He nods a little and leans into my hand. “You’re not the only one who can clean up, you know?”
He has on a tuxedo.
A tuxedo, in case I wasn’t clear the first time. And not some stuffy, old-man tux. It’s a cover-of-GQ, modern, stylish tux that’s tailored to him just right. His hair is slicked back, and he still has stubble, but it’s carefully trimmed into a neat beard with sharp, symmetrical lines.
Before I can say anything else, his hands find my hips, and he’s eyeing me like he wants to rip my new dress right off me. His fingers dig in a little, holding me in place so he can appraise me, and he’s stone-cold silent while his harsh glare examines me from head-to-toe to make sure they got everything correct.
“Words cannot describe how gorgeous you look right now. Do you know that, Mary?” His eyes roll up my body, burning a trail in their wake, and land on mine.
It’s so intense I can barely hold his gaze. How does he make me feel this special? This beautiful? But that stare… He may be the hottest man I’ve ever seen in my life. I mean he was attractive before but this, is just…
He did this for you. All of it, just for you.
For some reason, that hits me all at once, and I think I might tear up. I have to fight it back because I don’t want to ruin the moment, but it’s incredibly intimate and emotional. More than anything I’ve ever experienced.
He hooks an arm in mine. “Follow me.”
I glance over to him. “Where are we going?”
“To eat.” He pauses, then glances at me to his side. “And so I can show you off to everyone in this damn hotel, and let every last one of them know one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“That you’re mine.”
Rick Lawrence
I lead Mary with a hand at the small of her back into Margeaux Brasserie, the French restaurant in