A Taste of Bliss

by Adrian R. Hale

  “Mmm hmm. Have fun. Should I expect to hear some bumping and grinding coming from your room tonight? I’ll wear earplugs just in case.” She opens the bathroom door and leans out, looking at me with the biggest grin on her face.

  My face grows hot with embarrassment. “That happened one time! You can’t hold that over me every time I’m going out with a guy. We had just moved in; I didn’t know the walls were that thin.” I explain once again how I could have made the mistake of bringing a guy home and gotten a little loud. It was one of the most mortifying moments of my life to have all three of my roommates do a slow clap as the guy left the next morning.

  “Oh, well then, by all means, just make sure you use protection wherever you decide to bump uglies tonight if it won’t be here.” Willa grins wickedly as she stuffs a handful of foil wrapped condoms into my clutch before I can rip it out of her hand and storm out of the apartment.

  “Don’t be selfish this time, share the love,” she calls after me, laughing hysterically.

  I don’t know why Willa insists on tormenting me, but if I ever get any fodder to use against her, she better be ready.

  I arrive at the address Talan sent me a quarter after eight because parking was a pain. I head up the stairs to a converted warehouse brilliantly lit and full of people. I have no clue what this event is, or what it’s for, but I can see that, thanks to Talan, I am dressed appropriately. Hundreds of well-dressed men and women clad in sparkly dresses mill around. They are sipping wine and moving through the room with ease.

  Scanning the room, I don’t see Talan, so I unclasp my clutch to grab my phone to text him.

  “That dress looks better on you than I imagined.”

  I yelp, jumping involuntarily and drop my clutch thanks to Talan’s sexy voice appearing so close behind me. My clutch spills open, sending my belongings spinning in all directions. Along with the handful of condoms Willa so thoughtfully sent me off with.

  Mortification is my new name.

  Flustered, I drop to my knees, hot with humiliation as a few people turn to see what the fuss is about behind them. Their laughter has me fumbling with the condoms, dropping them before I can get them hidden. Talan kneels down next to me, grabbing my phone and a few foil squares to hand back to me as I quickly stuff my keys, a lipstick, and yet more condoms into my tiny bag. I hate Willa right now.

  “Someone’s prepared.” Talan’s smoky chuckle sends shivers down my spine that war with my humiliation.

  I feel the hot bite of tears pricking my eyes and swelling my throat as I stand. I spin on my heel and head for the door, intent on escaping with what is left of my dignity.

  “Hey, Bliss stop. I didn’t mean to upset you.” Talan catches my arm before I can run out the door. He spins me toward him and holds me in place. I struggle but his grip on my arms is more than I can fight. I sag against him when he pulls me into his chest and hide my red-hot face in the safe alcove of his neck. He softly rubs my back.

  I raggedly inhale a steadying breath. I hate that he smells amazing. “I didn’t bring them. My stupid roommate put them in my bag as a joke,” I mumble into his shirt collar.

  “Your stupid roommate is a godsend. I wish she were my friend and I had all of those a few weekends ago.”

  “What?” I pull away from his neck and look into his face, just inches from mine. He hasn’t become less attractive with time.

  “Do you really think I would have restrained myself had I had even one condom? No. I would have been so wrapped up in you, you wouldn’t have had a chance to leave without saying goodbye.”

  “I thought you were being a gentleman.”

  “Oh Bliss, I’m no gentleman.” Talan tips my chin up to look in my eyes. The predatory heat in his gaze has my humiliation melting into pure lust. He runs his thumb along my bottom lip, eyeing my mouth with desire. “Now, come back inside with me.”

  Without waiting for my answer, he places his hand on the small of my back and leads me inside. I look around quickly, checking to see if anyone is staring in recognition. It seems the few people who witnessed my foible have forgotten about it. Tension eases out of my neck as I relax my shoulders slightly. I’m still on edge, but it’s better not to be on my hands and knees in the middle of a party picking up rubbers.

  “What is this event for?” I gesture around at the mingling crowd, truly not sure why everyone is gathered here.

  “It’s to celebrate the grand opening of the Villa Sonoma tasting room here in the city. We finally opened this week, and it looks like people are happy about it. The shop is at the front of this building, on street level.” Talan takes a glass of wine off a tray of a passing waiter. “This should be a chardonnay; I think you will like it.”

  I gratefully take the glass of wine from Talan as a guest arrives to shake his hand. He turns slightly away from me, but keeps his hand on my waist. The party is loud enough that I am not able to hear their conversation, so I gaze around, slowly sipping my wine and people watching. There’s a small band set up in the corner playing instrumental versions of popular music. I like that they have a stand-up bass and a banjo among the instruments they are using, lending a folk influence to their covers. Actually, as I look around, I realize this would make an amazing venue for my fundraiser. The warehouse is rustic and industrial, with modern finishes that provide a sophistication that might encourage donations. There is plenty of room for a floor runway and seating for the fashion show, and enough room around the building for mingling afterward.

  “Do you happen to know who the manager of this event space is? I’d like to see if they would be willing to donate an evening for a fundraiser I am putting together,” I ask Talan when he finishes his conversation.

  “I do, and I could ask for you. What date are you thinking?”

  I bite my lip and wrinkle my nose up as I smile guiltily. “It’s this Friday. I’ve already lined up models, photographers, designers, and rentals for that day, so it would be key to get the space on that exact date. I mean, if it doesn't work out, I already have a space booked, but this would be so much better.”

  “That’s pretty quick, but I’ll see what I can do. What’s your fundraiser for?” Talan sips his wine, appraising me with a new interest.

  “My mom.” I manage to catch my voice as it starts to break and clear my throat. “She has stage four lung cancer. I found out this weekend.”

  “I’m so sorry, that’s horrible. I’ll make sure you get your space for the fundraiser. I can also get the winery to donate wine if you want it.”

  “You would do that for me? It’s too much just to get you to find the right people to ask about the space. I don’t want to put too much pressure on you for anything else.”

  Talan smiles. “It’s not a problem at all, I’m happy to do it. I have my hand in a lot of things. If you need something, chances are I can help you out.”

  “You’re a really good friend to have made, Talan. I really appreciate your help.”

  Talan draws his bottom lip into his mouth with his teeth before letting it pop out. “I might have ulterior motives, if you only think of me as a friend.” A lust-filled look crosses his face as he draws his finger along the neckline of my dress. My lips part as the soft touch stirs my craving for something other than wine.

  “Now, let me introduce you around a bit. I’m sure there are many curious guests wondering about the hot blonde with me. I wouldn’t want to deny them the pleasure of meeting you.” His ease in exciting me only to delay whatever gratification he has in mind ruffles me.

  Talan whisks me around the party, and introduces me to all manner of people. He never lets my hand go, and drags his thumb across my skin often. Talan makes it difficult to focus on anything other than his warm grip on my hand or my waist, and the closeness of him. I do my best to try to remember names and occupations, while making a good impression. You never know when that information will come in handy.

  Networking at its finest.

  The band moves into a rendition
of the Avett Brothers Living of Love, and I can’t help gravitating toward their corner. I close my eyes and enjoy the soft song. Strong hands rest lightly on my hips, but before I can turn, I smell Talan. I lean back against his chest, my wine buzz making me content and finally tension free. This moment is the most relaxed I have been in days. Talan is good at clearing my mind of anything but him. I enjoy the respite, knowing life will surely invade again soon.

  Talan brushes his lips across my cheek, rocking me side to side softly. “Do you want the band for your fundraiser also?”

  I open my eyes and turn slightly to see if he is joking. His open and serious gaze tells me he’s not. “Sure Talan, why don't you just recreate this entire evening for me. It can’t be that hard.” I laugh and shake my head at the notion. There is no way I could get all of this recreated for free. Thousands of dollars were obviously spent on this event, and I have zip to put toward my own.

  “If I can get all of this for you for this Friday, will you agree to go out with me again?”

  “Yeah, sure. Whatever you want. You just have to make this entire thing happen again. And bring the rich guests; my mom needs to pay for her treatments and fund her bucket list before she dies.” The humor in my voice extinguishes with the icy reality I have unwittingly poured on it. I clutch my stomach, feeling the physical pain of my heart breaking. “Oh my god, I’m sorry.” I blink back the tears that have sprung to my eyes and threaten to spill over. “I should go. This is me once again embarrassing myself. I seem to be making a habit of it around you.”

  “Bliss, baby, don’t go yet. The party is winding down, we can leave together in just a bit.” Talan uses the pads of his thumbs to gently wipe the tears from my eyes.

  I laugh wetly. “You pat, not wipe.” He pauses his action and looks at me in confusion. “To keep makeup in place when you cry. You dab and pat tears off, not wipe, which messes up your makeup. It’s a handy trick I tell my bridal clients after they get their makeup done.” Talan nods and once again places his thumbs on my cheeks, but this time he lightly dabs my eyes for me. I can’t help the laughter that bubbles out of me with how serious he takes this task.

  “I think I saved your makeup, and you stopped crying, so I win. I need to be rewarded or I might forget that trick.”

  “What do you wa—” Talan cuts my question off when he leans in and steals a sensual kiss that leaves me breathless.

  I blink at him stupidly when he pulls away, his eyes still riveted on my lips. “I want more of that. Now, and later on.” He looks around quickly, but returns his gaze to my face. “Fuck the party, we are leaving right now.”

  He takes my hand and begins to lead me toward the door. He’s a freight train on a mission as he plows his way through the lingering crowd of people. I follow along without complaint, not sure I want to stop it even if I knew how. Before we make it to the door, a guest steps in front of him. A petite and curvy brunette in a tight, black leather dress is effectively cutting off our escape like a brick wall. She’s pretty much my exact opposite visually. I immediately dislike her for no reason other than the proprietary look she gives Talan and how it instantly makes me feel jealous.

  “Talan, you are needed to help with something out back. It is business related.” Her voice lilts lightly with a Middle-Eastern accent as she eyes his grip on my hand. I want to shrink into the floor as her gaze rakes over me from my pink tipped hair to my not even close to designer sandals. The only thing I have going for me next to her is the beautiful dress Talan sent me. And the fact that he’s holding my hand.

  “I’m busy, Nassim. Can you get Peyton to take care of whatever it is?” He looks to either side of Nassim, his answer strained and clipped.

  “No, I can’t. You are needed,” she states simply. She stares icicles at us, and waits for him to follow her wherever it is she would like him to go.

  I get the feeling this is more personal than business-related, but who am I to stop Talan from working. Before Talan can dismiss me, I take action.

  “Go, I’ll be fine. I should be getting home anyway. Long day ahead.” I make up any excuse to sound like I’m okay with being brushed off for a business matter. The break in our escape gave me the time that I needed to think clearly. It’s better if I don’t leave with him, anyway. Nothing good would come of it. Other than what I would assume would be some pretty mind-blowing sex.

  Talan turns to me and places his hands on my cheeks. “I am so sorry. We will finish this later. I wish I didn’t have to go, but I have a feeling this will take awhile. Get home safely.” He kisses me softly before he lets me go to follow Nassim. I catch her smug look before she turns away, and they’re swallowed up by the crowd. I find I really hate her, even if she did unwittingly help me think things through.

  Chapter Eleven

  I’m cagey and full of nervous energy when I wake up the next day. I venture out for a run through Golden Gate Park, and while it takes the edge off, I feel like I’m missing a piece of the puzzle surrounding Talan. There’s something I can’t quite put my finger on about him. How could a bartender send me that beautiful dress? Why did Nassim need him last night, if he wasn’t working the event? He hasn’t shared much personal information with me, or I haven’t asked. All I have to go on are my assumptions and hunches, which are not promising for revealing who a person truly is. My run doesn’t illuminate any new theories for what I am missing about Talan, but it gives me time to plan for my mom’s fundraiser. I get home and make short work of some details that had been in need of decisions, and then I check in with Mom.

  “There’s my favorite daughter. It’s early. Did you have a job this morning?” My mom’s familiar greeting when I call is a welcoming balm to my raw nerves.

  “I better be your favorite daughter, I’m the only one you have.” I pretend mock outrage while I smile. “No job today. I don’t have anything scheduled until the weekend. I was just up early.”

  “My Bliss, up early without a reason to be? This is new. You have never been an early riser; forever my night owl with fear of missing out. What’s wrong, baby?” Mother’s intuition is a double-edged sword sometimes. You can’t hide when you really want to.

  “It’s nothing. I want to know how you are.”

  “Don’t bullshit your mother, Bliss. I hear it in your voice. I can practically feel it. Tell me what’s bothering you.”

  I sigh softly and know there is no way around it. I tell her the very PG version of meeting Talan in Sonoma, and how I finally saw him again last night.

  Mom is quiet for a minute. “Why don’t you want to like this man, Bliss?”

  Oh, hell. She can’t just focus on another aspect of the story, she has to hone in on the root of my problem so astutely. “I don’t have time for a guy like Talan. He is an all-consuming force. When I’m around him, he’s all I can think about. Even when he isn’t around, I’ve had trouble focusing on anything else. I don’t need that kind of distraction in my life right now. I need to focus.”

  “What is so important that you can’t give in to a little romance? Love makes the world go round, Blissy. It makes life worth living.”

  “I need to focus on booking more jobs so I can pay my rent on time. When I’m not working, I need to make it down to see you more often. Those are my highest priorities right now. Nothing should get in the way of making them happen, including distracting guys who smell really good.”

  Mom laughs raspily, which ends in her coughing for an extended time. I cringe and know she’s wiping blood from her mouth. “Sorry about that, love. Now, this Talan man smells good? That’s a good sign. Did you know everyone has pheromones that smell particularly good when they are a good genetic match?”

  “That can’t be true, where did you hear that?”

  “Oh, I read it somewhere maybe. Your dad was like that for me, though. He smelled so dang good, even when he wasn’t wearing any cologne. I used to rub my nose along his neck, sniffing greedily, trying to memorize that smell. I’m sure I could pick him o
ut of a lineup blindfolded based on that smell memory alone.”

  I hold my breath, hoping she will continue telling me more about my father. This is the most freely she has spoken about him, ever. When I was little and realized that other little girls had dads, I asked her where mine was. She would always tell me she made me herself, which was good enough when I was three, but quickly needed a more substantial answer, which she always danced around somehow.

  When she grows silent, I hedge my bets and figure now is as good a time as ever to ask her more. “What else do you remember about him?”

  “Oh, this and that,” she replies evasively, and I fear she’s about to clam up again, but the surprises continue. “He was tall, that’s where you got your little bit of height from, because it didn’t come from me.” We both laugh, because it’s true. She’s only five foot three, where as I was five foot seven in middle school. “He was blond, too, so it’s no surprise you ended up with that soft mane of pale sunshine. All the while I was pregnant with you, I prayed and prayed for a blue-eyed, blonde-haired baby girl who would be easy to raise. I was only twenty-three when I had you. I knew I would be raising you on my own, so I was scared I would have this rambunctious and terrible child who would run me ragged. Instead, I got my perfect, beautiful baby girl I wanted so badly.” Mom’s voice has taken on a soft quality as she reminisces.

  “You were so easy, Bliss. I know I have told you before, but it was so nice having a good kid who listened and entertained herself. I can’t believe how much time you quietly sat at the salon while I worked, never complaining or needing me to entertain you. And this was before iPads and video games that parents are sticking in their kid’s hands as soon as they can hold the things, just to shut them up.”

  “It was normal for me, Mom. All that time in the salon just felt like a second home. I had at least six other moms always checking on me, making sure I was fed and happy if you were busy. Those ladies helped raise me as much as you did, and I’m thankful for my childhood, even if it was unconventional. I wouldn’t change a thing about it, and I love you so much for all of the sacrifices you had to make for me.”