Valentine’s Day Virgin

by Wylder, Penny

  I laugh. “Is it terrible that I want both? I want to run away with you but you also bought me a pretty dress and I want to show it off.”

  “I want to show you off too,” he grins. “I’d prefer it if we went to a show or something, but this will have to do.”

  Eric takes my hand and helps me step into the limo. The inside is huge and luxurious and I can’t help but wonder what kind of things we could do in here with this much space. But my blush gives me away.

  “This would be much more comfortable, if you wanted to have a reprise of last night’s adventure.”

  I smirk at him. “Party first, then we’ll see where it goes.”

  Eric sighs dramatically, but he’s still smiling. That doesn’t keep me from noticing that he’s not really telling the truth.

  “So are you going to tell me about the party?”

  “What about it?”

  I shrug, curling my knees up on the seat and turning to face him. “Why your sister needed to ask me to be your date. Why you need to bring a date at all. Anything else that I can expect to find.”

  Eric looks uncomfortable. “It’s a long story.”

  “I think we’ve got some time.”

  “My mother just wants me to be happy. Unfortunately, she wants it to be on her terms and her timeline. If I showed up alone it would just make things worse, and things haven’t really been good for a while. So Bianca was trying to make life a little easier for everyone.”

  “Why?” I ask. “What happened?”

  He goes silent, and the atmosphere in the car changes, goes a little colder, a little sadder. “Sally, going to this party on a day that I hate is already difficult for me. I don’t want to get into other things that are equally as difficult.”

  Yeah, that makes sense. Even if everything feels close, I have to remember that we don’t actually know each other that well yet. “I’m sorry,” I say. “It was out of line.”

  “No,” he takes my hand and squeezes. “It’s fine to ask. I just can’t today.”

  “I’m guessing that this has something to do with why you hate Valentine’s Day and everything to do with it?”

  “It does, yeah.”

  “Okay.” I pull myself closer to him on the seat. “I bet I could convince you to like this holiday as much as I do.”

  A reluctant smile is pulled from his lips and there’s some light in his eyes. “How to you plan to do that?”

  “Feminine wiles.”

  “I’m afraid you’ll have to explain in greater detail,” he says, sexy smirk returning as I distract him. I don’t like seeing him in pain, and whatever it is that’s made him hate today is clearly still an open wound.

  “I mean,” I say, “that I’ll let you take me somewhere that has a bed, strip me down and teach me the ways of love.” I over-emphasize the word to make him laugh, and it works.

  “That sounds more like the party I want to go to.”

  I kiss him this time, climbing into his lap. I should care that this is going to wrinkle my dress or ruin my make-up, but I don’t. Eric’s hands are on my hips, pulling me down against him so I can feel exactly how he’s affected by me, and what’s more, how we might be connected if there were a few less layers of cloth between us.

  He groans. “If this is the way things are going to go, I think I could be convinced to hate Valentine’s Day a little less.”

  “Unfortunately, I think that we’re already at this party.” I can see out the window behind him and we’re pulling up to one of the most beautiful houses that I’ve ever seen.

  I slip off his lap and quickly re-apply my lipstick while he sighs, head back against the seat. “Okay. Let's do this.”

  The limo pulls up to the front of the house and Eric exits first. I take his hand and he helps me out, and I straighten my skirt. When I look up, I’m speechless. I thought I saw the house through the window, but that must have been just a part of it because what I’m standing in front of is a mansion. A real-life mansion that could swallow three of my apartment building and that’s just the front façade.

  “Is this where you grew up?” I ask.

  “Yeah,” Eric sounds a little sheepish. “It’s a lot. I know.”

  “We had very different childhoods,” I say, laughing. Because this is ridiculous. I’m in a fairy tale and I love it. There are guys in perfect suits waiting to take my wrap and clutch and they greet Eric by name. By name I mean ‘Mr. Marshall.’

  I’m a little surprised that they don’t announce us with titles like something out of a regency novel. But it still feels that way, because walking through the door into the massive foyer is like walking into a movie. Everything is decorated, dripping with hearts and Cupids and garlands in shades of reds and pinks and whites.

  There’s a crystal chandelier overhead that’s casting rainbows over the room and I stretch out my arms, watching the changing light play over my skin. This is everything I’ve ever wanted for Valentine’s Day. It’s over the top and beautiful and perfect.

  I look back at Eric, and he’s looking at me. Only at me. Nothing else. I know he hates this even if I don’t know why. But he’s trying. For me. For his family.

  I wrap my arms around his waist and hug him, look up into his eyes and smile. “I know you’re not having a good time, but I wanted to tell you that I’m so happy to be here with you. And I’m going to have a good enough time for the both of us. Thank you for bringing me.”

  “You’re welcome,” he says. “I’m going to try to have a good time with you.”

  I grin. “I’ll do my best to help.”

  Suddenly, from behind. “Eric, man, it’s been a long time. Hoping I was going to see you here.”

  I turn to find a tall man around Eric’s age, red hair and a solid build. He reaches out and shakes Eric’s hand. “Andrew. Good to see you.”

  “It’s been forever since you guys had one of these parties. I have to say, I’m glad you chose to have it on V-Day. There’s going to be plenty of pussy to score. You gonna be my wing man?”

  I feel my jaw drop because that’s really not where I was expecting that to go. Also, the fact that he completely ignored the fact that I’m standing right here.

  Eric freeze, tilts his head like he’s sizing Andrew up. Their hands are still locked in a handshake, and I see Eric’s grip tighten on Andrew’s hand. “Andrew, this is Sally, my date.”

  Andrew looks at me and startles, as if I just magically appeared out of nowhere. “Oh. Hi.” He doesn’t shake my hand or look at me again. “Well, I guess I’ll see you later then.” He quickly winks and walks away, and I think my mouth is still open in shock.

  “He’s not the only reason I hate parties like this,” Eric says, “but he’s certainly one of them. You’ll probably run into a few other guys like him, we all went to the same school and most of them turned out like him. Don’t worry, I have no intention of seeing him later.”

  I shake my head. “It’s too bad you don’t have a bouncer.”

  “I’m sure my mother has hired somebody who could pass. If I see anything out of place, I’ll take care of it.”

  “Good.”

  And so we go on the rounds. We’re honestly just trying to make it to the refreshment table because neither of us have eaten, but we keep getting stopped by what feels like every person. Most of them are nice, and I meet some of Eric’s old friends and schoolmates who aren’t nearly as gross. Older ladies who are friends of his mother who are very sweet and who compliment my dress. All in all, everyone seems lovely.

  Finally, we break through the crowd and I devour some of the finger sandwiches—which, like everything else in the house, are amazing—and grab a glass of champagne. “I haven’t seen Bianca yet,” I say to Eric, also sipping on champagne.

  “She’ll be here. My sister is always punctual except for at parties. There, she likes to make a fashionably late entrance so everyone can appreciate her glory.”

  “Only appropriate,” I say.

  “Of course.�
��

  We’re in a ballroom, and this is the first time that I’ve had the chance to take a breath and look at it. It’s decorated just as beautifully as the foyer, if not more so. The walls are draped in red velvet, fabric parting to reveal French doors that open onto a gorgeous veranda and gardens beyond. There’s more than one chandelier here, and the floor is scattered with fake rose petals that are swept around as people walk through them.

  “You grew up in a fairytale,” I say to Eric.

  “In some ways. Not in others.” He looks out at the people dancing. It’s not like the dancing at the club, this is slow waltzing, elegant and beautiful. “Would you like to dance?”

  He’s changing the subject, and I let him. “Yeah.” The smile on my face is so wide that I think I must be crazy. This is what I was daydreaming about when I pushed the chocolate cart. Dancing with a faceless suitor on Valentine’s Day. But he’s not faceless now. He’s Eric.

  And just like the club, Eric is perfect at this kind of dancing too. He sweeps me out onto the floor, pulling me close and letting his hand fall on my lower back. I have no idea what I’m doing, but his subtle pushes and pulls as we twirl around the floor guide me. He’s leading in every sense of the word.

  “How do you know how to do this?”

  “Dance?” I nod. “Dancing lessons. Required every week for years, so that I could dance at parties like this.”

  “It paid off.”

  He smiles. “I’m glad it’s impressing you. Dancing isn’t something that people are usually impressed by. Not here.”

  I don’t say anything to that. I can’t breach through this barrier he has up around himself. And I don’t want to. He has to let me in.

  The way he’s looking at me now, the air changes again, just like it did in the limo. But this time the air charges with heat and I become aware of how our bodies are pressed up against each other. But this isn’t the club and there’s no way he can pull me off into a hallway for some fun without being noticed. This is his family estate, and him leaving with me to go fool around will be conspicuous.

  Damn it.

  There’s a commotion near the entrance of the ballroom and I think it comes just in time. Because conspicuousness be damned, I’m about to drag him out of here. But the commotion, as it turns out, is Bianca.

  And her dog.

  A path clears between us and her as the dog runs across the floor, and a bunch of other people start laughing because he’s dressed up like Cupid, complete with a halo and angel’s wings.

  “That would be Edison,” Eric says, and he’s trying to keep a straight face and not laugh.

  “He’s adorable.”

  Bianca follows him across the floor as Edison runs straight to Eric’s feet like he knew where he was. Bianca looks like she just stepped off the red carpet in a flowing blue gown that has a daring neckline, plunging almost all the way to her belly button. Her blonde hair is in movie star curls, and she has a huge smile on her face. “Hello, hello! I’m so happy to see both of you.” She doesn’t even give us a chance to respond as she wraps me in a hug. “You look lovely, dear. When Eric told me that you were going to Aurelia’s, I knew you were going to be stunning.”

  “Thank you.”

  Eric is crouched down, petting Edison’s stomach as he tries to roll over but can’t fully with the wings. “And you look good, too,” she says to Eric.

  He gives her a hug, and for the first time he doesn’t look strained in his greeting. He and his sister are close.

  “Where’s Mom?” she asks.

  “I actually haven’t seen her yet,” Eric says. “Not since this morning. And since Sally and I have already said hi to what feels like everyone, I can honestly say that I have no idea.”

  “Well I’m sure she’ll be around soon enough.”

  Eric smiles. “Where’s the guy I’ve heard so much about?”

  “James!” Bianca turns and waves, and a handsome blond man appears out of the crowd of dancers, who have gone back to dancing around us. He’s carrying two flutes of champagne and hands one to Bianca before kissing her on the cheek.

  “James, this is my brother Eric and his date Sally.”

  James holds out his hand to Eric, and then to me. “I’m really happy to meet you both. Eric, she’s told me a lot about you.”

  “All good things, I hope,” Eric jokes.

  “Of course.” James turns to me. “And you’re the beautiful chocolate cart girl that I’ve heard so much about.”

  I laugh. “I’m definitely the chocolate cart girl.”

  “She won’t admit the beautiful part, even if she is.” Eric’s hand snakes around my waist and pulls me close, and he presses a kiss to my temple. It’s the first time he’s made any kind of gesture of public affection towards me since we arrived. If that’s not a sign that his sister puts him at ease, I don’t know what is.

  “It’s a hell of a story,” James says.

  “I’ll never live it down. Not every day you nearly murder someone at work and then go on a fairytale adventure.”

  “Well,” Bianca says with a knowing smile, “if you two have kids one day, it will be a hell of way to tell them how you met.” My jaw drops, and she starts to laugh. “Oh my God, relax. I’m kidding. Kind of.”

  “So how long have you guys been seeing each other?” I direct the question toward both of them, and I love watching the way they look at each other and smile.

  “Yes, how long have you been seeing each other?”

  The new female voice comes from behind Bianca and James. Older and more dignified, and the couple parts so I can see a woman who I can clearly identify as Eric and Bianca’s mother. They look like her.

  She’s beautiful, her graying hair pulled up into an elegant up-do, and her dress a shade of pink a bit lighter than the decorations that are hanging everywhere.

  “Mom, hi,” Bianca says, kissing her mother on the cheek.

  “Hello darling. I’m sorry to interrupt, but I couldn’t help but overhear. I didn’t realize the date you were bringing tonight was somebody that you had been seeing for a while.”

  I swallow. That’s not exactly a happy tone. That’s a reproachful tone, one that doesn’t approve of the fact that she wasn’t told. But Bianca takes it in stride and with a winning smile. “No need to talk about something until there’s anything to talk about, Mother. She leans in and touches James on the arm. “This is James. We’ve been seeing each other for a few months, and so far,” she looks at him with a dreamy quality that fills me with longing, “we’re very happy.”

  “That’s nice to hear,” she says. “Andrew, I’ll have some questions for you.”

  “Of course.”

  But Eric’s mother isn’t looking at him anymore. She’s looking at me. “And of course, Eric, you need to introduce me to your date.”

  “Sally, this is my mother, Eleanor. Mom, this is Sally.”

  I hold out my hand, and what I get is a very firm, very intimidating handshake. “It’s very nice to meet you,” I say.

  “My son told me this morning that you haven’t known each other very long.”

  “No, ma’am.”

  She looks me up and down, and I’m glad that I let Iris do my hair and make-up, and that I let Eric buy me this dress. There’s no way that my style under my own power would be enough to stand up to that scrutiny.

  “Eric,” she says, “Mr. Fitzwallace mentioned that he wanted to speak to you about a business proposal and I promised him that you would. Please go and see him, he’s in the solarium. James, you might enjoy that conversation as well.” It’s very clear that they’re being dismissed, and there’s no room for argument in her tone.

  Eric weaves his fingers through mine. “Will you be all right?”

  I swallow, not completely sure, but not about to back down. “Of course.”

  “I’ll be back shortly.” He presses a kiss to my forehead and squeezes my hand before stepping away, and James follows him. I see the two of them share a war
y glance before they disappear through the cloud of dancers.

  “Come sit with me, Sally,” Eleanor says, taking my arm. “We’ll have a drink.”

  “All right.”

  Bianca floats along with us, and when I look at her she gives me an encouraging smile. I didn’t realize that coming to the party would mean a parental interview, but there’s nothing I’ll have to lie about. I like Eric, and even though we just started this, we’re going to see it through, wherever it leads.

  Eleanor leads me off of the dance floor and into the other half of the ballroom that I haven’t visited yet. It’s filled with comfortable chairs and couches and more staff in livery serving drinks and food.

  She aims directly for a little table that’s set up with two chairs. Not three. Bianca seems to notice this at the same time that I do. “Mom—”

  “Bianca, I seem to have forgotten my glasses upstairs in my bedroom. Would you be a dear and go get them for me? I may have left them by my bed. Or maybe in the study. I’ll need them to see.”

  I look at Bianca, silently begging her not to leave me alone here, because I’m going to be completely out of my depth. But she gives me another smile and nods to Eleanor. “Of course, Mom. I’ll be right back.” That last part was directed at me.

  “Now dear,” Eleanor says. “Please, sit.”

  I sit across from her, and a man appears with champagne. Taking the glass, I try not to grip it so hard that it shatters, because that won’t do anybody any good.

  “Tell me about yourself.” Eleanor says, sitting back in her chair like it’s a throne.

  What on earth do I say? Despite Eric’s interest in me, I’m not a particularly interesting person. Even less so because I don’t have a job.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “What would you like to know?”

  “For starters, what do you do?”

  I clear my throat. “I’m in between jobs at the moment. I recently left a bad work situation with an unpleasant boss. That’s actually how I met Bianca. But I’m in the process of setting up interviews, and I’m hopeful that I’ll have something set up in the next couple of weeks.”

  “I see.” She takes a sip. “And now you’re dating my son.”