Dangerous Engagement

by Charlotte Byrd

  She smiles again.

  “The only reason I ignored him is because of Connor. If Connor knew that I liked him…well, you know how he is.”

  “Whatever, they’re both assholes,” Ellis says, taking a sip of her martini and throwing her hand up in the air.

  “But you know, that may be even worse. I mean, to be a teacher you need to have a college degree and you make less than most servers and bartenders in the city.”

  I shake my head and look down at the floor.

  “Ellis, there is more to life than money,” I say quietly.

  She leans over to me and puts her lips right next to my ear. Then she whispers, “Honey, that’s a lie that rich people tell everyone to keep them working so hard for so little.”

  Feeling completely disgusted by someone I thought was my friend, I extricate myself from her and head to the bathroom. I want some privacy, but this isn’t the place for it. There is a line of about ten women all waiting for the same dirty, dingy bathroom with used toilet paper all over the floor.

  I step outside and head around the corner. I press my back against the wall and take three deep breaths.

  “What the hell am I doing here?” I ask. “What the hell am I doing with any of these people?”

  “What are you doing here?” His voice breaks my concentration and startles me a little bit.

  Henry is standing less than a foot away from me, almost hovering over me. I want to step away to create more distance but there's nothing but a brick wall behind me.

  “Are you following me?” he asks, crossing his arms and tilting his head to the side.

  “No, I'm not."

  “So, why are you here?”

  “I had no idea we were coming here,” I say quietly.

  “That often seems to be the case.”

  “Ellis wanted me to meet her new boyfriend and he brought along a friend. So, I am currently on a blind date, not that I owe you any sort of explanation.”

  “No, you don’t," he says sternly and takes a step away from me.

  “I thought that I had explained myself enough,” I say when he starts to walk away. The words just escape my lips before I can stop them.

  “What are you talking about?" he asks.

  “Didn’t you get any of my texts?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “And you didn't think it would be polite to answer?”

  “No, I didn't think that they required an answer. After all, you had already said everything you wanted to say with your actions.”

  I shake my head and cross my arms.

  “That was an accident,” I insist. He lets out a laugh, sarcastic, of course.

  “So, you accidentally ignored me in front of your friends and your ex-boyfriend? You were accidentally embarrassed about being seen with me, a bartender?”

  “No, it had nothing to do with that. It was about Connor. My ex-boyfriend. He has a temper and I didn't want him to get jealous and I didn't want him to make fun of you or be mean to you. I was, I thought I was, protecting you.”

  He doesn't say anything in response and I don't elaborate further. I had groveled and explained myself enough, much more than I ever have to anyone else. And if he's not interested or cannot find it in his heart to forgive me, there is nothing else I can do.

  Without saying another word I head back inside. Somehow all of this time in the fresh air has made me feel even more claustrophobic than I ever felt in that busy, loud bar.

  I find Ellis and Mitchell dancing near the front and grab Brock’s hand to pull him onto the dance floor. He is clearly surprised but goes with the motions. He is actually a pretty good dancer, and we fall into a nice rhythm.

  A few songs later, I see Henry out of the corner of my eye dancing with the girl he was talking to earlier. She rubs her body intensely against his as he presses himself against her. His hands make their way up and down her arms while her back presses against his groin.

  As soon as our eyes meet, I do the same thing to my date. His body feels hard against mine. For a moment, I imagine it belongs to Henry but then Brock says something dissipating the illusion.

  Glancing over at Henry again, I watch him watching me and I watch her and him together. My jealousy feels like it’s going to boil over at any moment and make me explode. But nothing happens. The song comes to an end and we separate.

  When Brock excuses himself to go to the bathroom and Henry's date runs into an old girlfriend of hers, Henry looks at me. The next song comes on and he takes a step forward.

  The room is crowded and full of people yet it feels like we are the only souls in the place.

  “Will you dance with me?” he asks and puts his arm out. I want to say no, but I can't.

  Instead, I just put my hand in his and let him lead me.

  “Where did you learn how to dance like this?” I ask.

  “I used to take classes,” he says quietly.

  “Really?”

  “Like what?

  “Everything you can think of. I know how to do jazz, Latin, ballroom, some hip-hop. Actually, dancing was my mother’s passion and she taught me a lot of what I know.”

  Suddenly, I feel quite embarrassed over my own lackluster dance skills. I've learned a few things from popular YouTube videos to not embarrass myself at a club, but I don't actually know anything about dancing. My go-to approach was to always try to mimic the girl next to me and hope no one notices.

  “In that case, you should dance with Ellis, she's quite good,” I joke.

  “No, thank you,” he says, staring deeply into my eyes. “I only want to dance with you.”

  The intensity of his voice and his eyes send shivers down my spine. He doesn't blink for a long time, watching me take it all in. Suddenly, I become a moth drawn to a flame.

  “Hi,” Brock says. “Do you mind if I cut in?”

  11

  Aurora

  My heart drops when I see him. I had completely forgotten that I’m still on a date. I don't want to dance with Brock, but it doesn't feel like I have a choice. Luckily, the song comes to an end and I catch Ellis’s eye and casually wave her over.

  “Aurora, I'm not feeling that well. I think I'm gonna go home,” she says.

  “Oh, no,” I say sympathetically. “I’ll head back with you.”

  “You really don't have to,” she says, but I insist.

  I give Brock a small hug and wave goodbye to Mitchell. I glance back only briefly to get one last glimpse of Henry.

  “You really owe me for this,” Ellis says. “That could've been a disaster.”

  “Yes. I know,” I agree. “Thank you very much.”

  “What the hell were you doing dancing with that guy again?”

  “I don't know," I say, shaking my head. “We were talking and then he just asked me to dance. He is such a good dancer.”

  “Yes,” Ellis says begrudgingly, “I’ll give him that.”

  Climbing into Ellis's Maserati, I can’t help but look back at the bar one more time.

  Maybe he'll be there.

  Maybe he'll be waiting for me. But he's not there.

  No, just forget about him, I tell myself. That was a good date and a good dance, but that doesn't mean that anything between us is any different.

  “He's right over there, you idiot,” Ellis says, shaking her head.

  I follow her pointed index finger and see him sitting on the front of an old car that looks like it was made in the 1990s.

  “Do you really wanna get into that piece of shit?” Ellis asks.

  “I'll talk to you later,” I say, getting out of the car.

  When I walk over to Henry, he hops off, opens the passenger door, and shuts it after I get in. After going around to the other side, Henry gets behind the wheel. The car starts out with a roar and we pull out of the parking lot with the tires screeching.

  “Where do you want to go?” he asks. Our eyes meet. I swallow hard.

  “I don’t know,” I say shyly.

  “So
mewhere private,” he says more like an assertion than a question.

  “The yacht club? To my boat?” I suggest.

  There is so much to say and yet neither of us speaks. Instead, he puts his hand over mine, interlacing his fingers with mine.

  He kisses me for the first time on the dock, just spins me around and presses his lips onto mine. When I kiss him back, we barely mange to get aboard before all of our clothes come off.

  His mouth is strong but his kisses are soft. His tongue finds mine quickly and doesn't let it go. He walks backward with his arms around me as I lead him down to the main corridor and then into the master bedroom in the very back.

  He pulls away from me for a second to take a closer look at the room, nodding slightly at the bathroom with a large sunken tub, but I shake my head no.

  Tonight, I don’t have the patience.

  I just want him inside of me as quickly as possible.

  Henry throws me onto the bed and climbs on top of me. He's no longer wearing a shirt and I run my fingers up and down his chiseled tan body with a protruding six pack. My own body is so much less perfect, and yet he adores it in every way that I adore his.

  He kisses my breasts over my bra and then quickly removes it and throws it on the floor. He buries his head in between my breasts and inhales deeply. This is where I want to live, he mumbles. This is where I want to spend an eternity. I blush and bury my hands in his thick luscious hair.

  He quickly moves his lips down my body. I feel my stomach rise and fall with each kiss. The spot in between my legs tenses and relaxes with each movement.

  He pulls off my panties with his teeth and tosses them across the room. When he rises above me, all I see is abs. I help him unbuckle his pants and slide them down his legs. He stumbles a bit and knocks his head into mine.

  We crack up laughing and then kiss again and again and again. In this moment, nothing else exists. There's only him and me.

  He opens my legs slowly, kissing the inside of my thigh. But this time I take control. I flip him over on his back and climb on top of him. I take him into my mouth, but only briefly. He wants me to be on top of him as much as I want him to be inside of me.

  When I take him inside of me, we move as one. We are dancing. There isn't one off-note or a misstep. It feels like our bodies have known each other for a great many years, but in a good way.

  It's not boring, but there's also no awkwardness of those first few times. I've never experienced this with anyone else before. In fact, it felt more like I was going through the motions rather than letting myself enjoy the moment. But with Henry, he simply fills me up and takes over. When I get tired of being on top, he senses this and flips me over on my back.

  Suddenly, an unfamiliar feeling starts to course through me. Tension starts to rise within me, escalating with each thrust.

  Could this be it?

  I have experienced this on my own, of course, but never with another person.

  Perhaps I could never relax enough. With Connor, I had to fake so many orgasms, it was getting exhausting. He wasn't satisfied unless I made a lot of noise and a big production of the whole event. Ever since then, I’d decided that I would no longer lie to please the man in my life.

  But with Henry, things are different. The moans come on their own. Just a little bit at first, barely audible. But as that feeling within me starts to rise, the sighs come faster and faster.

  “Are you getting close?” Henry asks.

  His question brings me out of a daze.

  “This feels amazing,” I say. “But I don't think I can go there right now.”

  “Oh, okay,” he says into my ear. “Do you mind if I do? Because I'm not sure if I can hold on for much longer.”

  I give him a kiss and a nod.

  “I promise I'll take care of you later tonight.”

  His words send shivers down my back. It's a promise as much as a declaration.

  Henry’s movements speed up as I dig my fingers into his shoulders. I feel him getting closer and closer as the intensity between us continues to build.

  “Aurora,” he whispers gently into my ear.

  “Aurora!” Another voice interrupts us.

  It takes me a moment to realize that the voice belongs to a female, and another few moments to realize that it actually belongs to my mother.

  My heart jumps into my throat as I grab onto the comforter around me and pull it up to cover my naked body. Henry, a little disoriented, is not as quick, and stumbles a bit.

  Someone standing behind my mother giggles. My eyes try to focus but the light from the hallway is too bright for me to actually make out their features.

  “I think we need to give them a little privacy,” he says. I immediately recognize my father’s voice and wish for the ground to split open and swallow me whole.

  The last thing I see before my mother closes the door is the disapproving look on her face.

  I realize that I had been holding my breath this whole time and let it out quickly.

  We start to get dressed in complete silence and my mind ping-pongs from one thought to another.

  Shit.

  Shit.

  Shit.

  Why the hell are they here?

  “Those are my parents,” I say, turning to Henry. “Just in case you were wondering.”

  "They sure did pick a good time to interrupt us,” he says quietly.

  “They are supposed to be in Albany on some work stuff, not in the Hamptons and definitely not on the boat.”

  “It’s going to be fine,” Henry says, taking me into his arms.

  “No, it’s not,” I mumble and push him away from me. “You don’t know my parents.”

  “We’re all adults though, right? This is what adults do.”

  “Not in the master bedrooms of their father’s beloved yachts, they don’t,” I correct him.

  I buy as much time as I can getting ready and now it’s time to go and face them. I don’t really want to, but I also don’t want my mother to come and check on us again.

  I look at myself one last time in the mirror to make sure that I look as put-together as possible.

  “Are you ready?” I ask, turning to him.

  Henry shrugs his shoulders and gives me a wink. “Yeah, why not?” he asks casually.

  He isn't at all intimidated or thrown off by what just happened but I am sure that my parents will change that attitude quickly.

  I take a deep breath before opening the door. I have never been so embarrassed in my whole life except maybe the time that I got my period in the middle of seventh grade biology and got blood all over the nice upholstered white chairs that the teacher had just set up for us.

  No, come to think of it, this is worse.

  In the living room, I am greeted by my mother who introduces me and Henry to their guests.

  I have never met the Hawthornes before, but my mother had mentioned them a few times. Apparently, she met Mrs. Hawthorne at the new Pilates studio that she has been attending and in addition to philanthropy they are also both very interested in the arts.

  Many wealthy women are interested in those things, but Mrs. Hawthorne is into malaria and clean-water related causes, just like my mom, and she also likes the ballet. I think one of my mother’s greatest regrets in life is that her daughter does not like the ballet as much as she does.

  She put me in classes when I was a little girl and I attended them faithfully for four or five years, I can't exactly remember how long. What I do remember, however, is how much I detested it. When she finally let me quit, she thought that I would at least share her interest in watching ballet, but I proved to be a disappointment in that area as well.

  Mom invites us to join them and the Hawthornes for drinks. I suspect that they all saw us when my mother was giving them a tour of the yacht but everyone is polite enough to not bring it up.

  My parents are both true New Englanders in that they never discuss private matters when they have company. The Hawthornes ma
y be their friends, but they would have to be the closest friends, if not their best friends, for them to talk about what they had just witnessed.

  Knowing my parents, they do not have friends like that.

  Close to the end of the hour, after my parents have had two full drinks each, I see my opportunity to escape. We wish everyone a good evening, and head toward the door. Before we can make a clean getaway, my mother stops us.

  “Aurora,” she says. “I would like to invite you to dinner tomorrow night. Are you free?”

  “I'm not sure,” I say, “I think I have to check my schedule.”

  “Well, your father and I are very busy and tomorrow night is the only available time. So, please make sure to clear your schedule.”

  This is the kind of invitation that is impossible to say no to.

  “Okay, I'll see what I can do,” I say.

  “And you, Henry? We would love to get to know you a little better,” my mother says.

  “Shit,” I whisper to myself, just under my breath.

  “Did you say something, honey?” she asks me with an innocent expression on her face.

  “I'll be there, Mrs. Tate,” Henry says. “It has been a pleasure to meet you both.”

  12

  Henry

  The night at the yacht was magical up until the very end. That was not the ideal way to meet someone's parents, let alone a girl who I am falling in love with.

  Did I really just think this?

  Did this thought actually cross my mind? I look in my closet, for something decent to wear to tonight's dinner.

  Aurora insisted that her parents are not going to bring up what happened last night, not because they are okay with it, but because it would be indecent of them to do so.

  I'm not sure if I am supposed to take this as a good thing or a bad thing. For now, I'll just take it as it is.

  So far, I have made a terrible first impression, and perhaps tonight's dinner is a way for me to make up for it. I enlist my mother’s help in assisting me in choosing my outfit.

  It’s not much of a choice though. I only own two suits, both of which I wore to funerals. One is too big, because it was on sale and I couldn't afford the alteration fee, and the other is slightly too small.