Luck of Love

by Aleman, Tiffany

  I nod, realizing that she doesn’t want this to go any further. Her hand drops from around my neck as my grip loosens from around her waist. Staring back at me, I see her eyes focused on my lips as she whispers, slurring, “I think we should go.”

  Stepping out of my hold, she sways and stumbles away trying to make her way back over to where we were sitting. Catching up to her, I grab her around her waist, helping to support her weight. Finally, we make our way back and see Dean sitting at our couch. Looking up at us, smirking he says, “She’s drunk.”

  Nodding, I say “Yeah, I think it’s time to go.” I feel Blake’s head drop to the side of my chest, looking down at her and back up to Dean, “Here, why don’t you take her and I’ll go close out the tab.”

  Standing, Dean replaces my hold on her. I watch her eyes lazily slide open as she slurs, “Are we leaving?”

  Lying in bed the next morning, I’m startled awake as something soft hits me in the head. I try batting the damn thing away as it hits me again. Rolling over and sitting up in tangled sheets, I scrub the palms of my hands up and down my face yawning, when the fucking thing hits me a third time. Dropping my hands from my face, eyes barely open, I see a seething Blake holding a pillow in her hands ready to take another swing at me.

  Her hair is a tangled matted mess, a serious case of bedhead. She’s slept most of her make-up off with the exception of some left over eyeliner and mascara. Just as she brings her arms back to take another swing, I put my hands up and say with a raspy just woken voice, “Please don’t hit me again. It’s too early right now.” I look at the clock reading eight thirty in the morning.

  “What do you mean don’t hit you again, and what the fuck am I doing in here, in your bed, wearing this?” She yells at me with her eyes narrowed into small slits.

  “First off, Dean is on the couch sleeping. I don’t have my guest room set up yet, so I put you in here in my bed. Secondly, I was going to sleep on the floor, but you kept asking me to stay with you because you didn’t want to be alone anymore. And with what you’re wearing,” I say pointing at my T-shirt and boxers she has on, “I figured you’d be more comfortable sleeping in something like that, but don’t worry, you dressed yourself.”

  Dropping the pillow onto her lap, she drops her face into her hands. Moving one of her hands to the side, she peeks at me through the corners of her eyes and says, “I’m sorry for hitting you with the pillow, and I’m sorry for yelling at you. But I just need to know, we didn’t do anything last night in here, did we?”

  Shaking my head, “No, you were pretty drunk last night. And even if you would have begged me I still would have said no,” I say with a small smile trying to pull her out of her funk. “Do you remember anything from last night?” I ask. I need to know if she even remembers us dancing or if she really was that drunk.

  The tell-a-tale sign of a blush, forms on her face letting me know she remembers last night, at least some parts. I need to hear her say it though. I need to know what she remembers. Without looking at me, she hangs her head and says in a low voice, “I remember dancing with you. You were whispering in my ear.”

  Tossing the sheets off my legs, I climb over to where Blake sits. Putting my finger under her chin, I tilt her head up to look at me. Leaning into her, our eyes connected, I ask, “Do you remember my hands on your body, goose bumps engulfing your flesh on every spot I touched you?” Tilting my head down, I ask while placing a soft kiss on the curve of her neck, “Do you remember my lips kissing you here?” Caging her in with my hands, I lean into her pressing her down into the mattress. Skimming my nose up her neck, reaching her ear I ask in a husky voice, “Do you remember me asking you if you’d be my lil’ freak, the soft moan that escaped your beautiful mouth and the way your head leaned back against my chest?” Just as I’m about to suck her lobe into my mouth, I feel the slightest of pressure on my chest as her hands gently push me away.

  Shaking her head no, she whispers, “Landon, I can’t. You asked if I remembered all those things and I do, but I have a boyfriend, and this,” she says pointing at me and then at herself, “isn’t right.”

  Nodding, I push away from her and ask, looking her straight in the eyes, “If you didn't have a boyfriend, would you be pushing me away right now?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know what I’d do,” she replies. Throwing the sheets off her legs and turning to sit on the edge of the bed she says, “I need to go. I’m going to change and then I’ll wake up Dean so we can leave.”

  “Okay, the bathroom’s right through there,” I say, as I point across my room next to my bedroom door.

  Walking into the bathroom, I hear the clicking of the lock. I push up off the bed and walk into my closet rummaging through my dresser for something to workout in. Just as I find some basketball shorts and a T-shirt, I see Blake pass by the door of my closet. I know I should say something, but I don’t, I just let her walk away.

  I can hear the mumbling of her and Dean talking. I can’t make out what they’re saying, but then I hear the front door open and close. Within minutes, my phone chimes. Picking it up and looking at it, it’s a text from Dean.

  Dean: Hey man. Thanks for last night and letting us crash at your place.

  Me: No problem, call me when you’re in town next.

  After leaving Landon’s apartment last Sunday, I’ve talked to Derrick a lot more. I keep trying to tell myself that it was just dancing, that I didn’t do anything wrong, but I’m not that naïve. I know that what I did and what I let happen was wrong on some level. There are times that my skin pimples in goose bumps when I think about his lips caressing my skin, or where his hands had touched my body. Guilt washes over me as I try to compartmentalize those thoughts away. In reality, I didn’t kiss him or let him kiss me, at least not on the mouth. When he asked if I didn’t have a boyfriend if I’d be pushing him away, I told him I don’t know. In reality though, I wouldn’t have pushed him away. I would’ve let him kiss me.

  So here I stand a week later, in my bathroom giving myself a once over in the mirror. In a black satin one shoulder fitted dress, the hem barely brushes against my knees. My killer black Jimmy Choo stilettos help me stand at least four inches taller, giving my legs the length I wish they actually had. I put on a pair of silver dangling earrings with the studs encrusted in diamonds and paired with a silver bangle bracelet. With my hair in an up-do, I’ve left some loose curls hanging to help frame my face. Adding the finishing touches of my makeup, getting ready for my first real date with Derrick, I paint my lips with a red lipstick that screams kiss me.

  Walking out of the bathroom and down the hall of my apartment, Dean sits on the couch leaning against the armrest watching TV. Looking at me as I enter the room, he turns his head back to the TV and then snaps back in my direction. With wide eyes he says, “Damn Blake, you look good.”

  Smoothing my hands over my dress and looking down at myself I say, “You don’t think it’s too much? He didn’t even tell me where we’re going, he just said that he had to work until five this evening and to be ready by seven.”

  Shaking his head he says, “Hell no, it’s not too much, and if it is where you guys are going, then he better take you somewhere nicer.”

  Laughing, I say as I walk over to the window, “Whatever.” Pulling back a section of the blinds, I watch Derrick climb the stairs to my apartment. A twinge of guilt stabs at me, knowing what I’ve shared with Derrick, and then what I did with Landon. I shake my head pushing the thought of Landon away. Seeing him reach the top landing leading to my door, a smile spreads across my face as I open it before he can knock.

  My jaw drops at the sight of him wearing a black suit that hugs his physique nicely, a white button down dress shirt, and dark brown silk tie that brings out his hazel eyes. With his five o’clock shadow, I can tell he hasn’t shaved today. His hair is slightly disheveled, probably from combing his fingers through it. An image of him sitting at his desk running his fingers through his hair does funny things to m
y body, things I shouldn’t be thinking about.

  I notice his reaction is the same as mine. I place a hand on my hip and clear my throat, trying to get his attention, “Ahem.” A smile forms on my lips when I notice his eyes dart to mine.

  “Wow, I mean you look…-wow,” he says breathlessly while his eyes travel up and down my body. Reaching over, he pulls my hand off my hip, pulling me into him with a devilish grin. My arms automatically wrap around his neck. I smile at him as he wraps his arms around my waist anchoring me to him. “You look so fucking sexy,” he whispers in my ear. Removing his arms, his hands come up cupping my face pulling me into a long sensual kiss.

  Slowly, he pulls back from the kiss asking me, “You ready to go?”

  “Yeah, just let me get my purse real quick. Are you going to tell me where you’re taking me?” I ask, dropping my arms from around his neck.

  “No. It’s a surprise,” he replies as I walk over to the table retrieving my purse. Returning to him, he peers down at me and puts his arm out for me to take.

  Placing my hand in the crook of his arm, I look over my shoulder at Dean when we reach the door, and say, “Hey I’m leaving, I’ll see you later?”

  Twisting around to look at me he says, “Yeah, call me if you need anything, okay?”

  “All right,” I say smiling at him.

  Leaving, I shut the door behind Derrick and I as we make our way down the stairs and across the parking lot. A set of headlights flashes on what has to be the sexiest car I’ve ever seen. Whipping my head towards Derrick with my jaw dropped, he starts laughing at my expression. Snapping my mouth shut, I say with a smirk, “Now, I think I just found something sexier than you.”

  Opening the passenger door, Derrick helps me climb into his perfectly blacked out Range Rover. It’s fully loaded with black leather seats, a wood grain dashboard, and the darkest legal tint you could get away with on the windows, a sun roof—and oh yes black rims. I think I’m in love!

  Climbing into the driver’s side, the engine hums with a faint whisper as he brings the car to life. “Somebody’s Heartbreak,” by Hunter Hayes booms through the speakers as he pulls out of the parking lot. Picking up my hand and entwining our fingers together, I look over to see a faint smile on his face.

  During the ride to our destination, we talked about what we want out of life and the different advertising firms in the city that I might be interested in working for. Our hands stayed joined the entire time. He would rub soothing circles on the back of my hand with the tips of his thumb, or softly brush his thumb along my knuckles. Every now and then he would lift our hands and place sweet, tender kisses on the back of mine. When we weren’t talking, the silence was comfortable.

  Staring out the passenger window, my eyes widen with shock when we pass a sign saying “Welcome to Atlantic City.” The bright lights and massive sizes of all the different casinos have me left in a state of awe. Passing by one of the tallest casinos I have seen, Atlantic Knight’s Resort is sprawled along the top in elegant letters that are glowing red. Turning to look at Derrick, I know this is where he works, but I still have to ask, “Is this where you work?”

  Driving around to the side of the building Derrick rolls down his window and inputs a code that leads us into an underground parking garage, when he finally answers me, “Yeah and where I live.”

  “Wait! You live here too?” I ask completely flabbergasted.

  Chuckling at my expression, he says as he parks the car, “I own a penthouse on the top floor with my own private elevator. I also have my own bay here in this parking garage.”

  Opening my door, I hop out of the car as Derrick walks over to me. I haven’t said anything to him since his admission. I mean, I knew he was loaded, but I never really thought about it, and now that it’s in my face, I’m not quite sure how to handle it. Reaching for my hand, we walk over to an elevator, probably his elevator.

  Stepping into the car, Derricks slides a key card through a reader next to the control panel and with a slight jolt, the car starts its ascent up. Squeezing my hand, he looks at me and says, “What’s wrong? Is it what I told you about me owning a penthouse and the other stuff?”

  Shaking my head, I look at him with a small smile and say, “Yes and no. I mean, it’s just something I’m going to have to get used to.”

  Nodding he says squeezing my hand, “I understand, and I actually like that it’s something you’re willing to get used to.”

  Arching my eyebrow in his direction, I ask, “And what do you mean by that?”

  Shrugging he looks at me and says, “That you’re really serious about wanting to give us a shot.”

  Leaning into him and kissing his cheek I say, “I was serious, Derrick.”

  I notice that we’re still climbing higher and ask, “Are we having dinner at your place?”

  Shaking his head and smiling he says, “Nope, think higher.”

  I don’t even have time to answer as the elevator glides to a halt. As the doors slide open and Derrick and I step out of the car and onto the rooftop, my breath catches. Turning my head in all different directions taking in the view before me, I turn looking up at Derrick, “This is amazing!”

  In the middle of the roof top, sits a table for two covered in white linen, holding a bottle of wine chilling in a bucket of ice and one single long stemmed red rose rests in the center. Scarlet red linen drape both chairs. A makeshift canopy dressed with white tulle and twinkling lights stands high above the table. Scattered rose petals are underneath and around the table and chairs. The sound of soft soothing romantic music plays in the background.

  I feel the pad of Derrick’s finger gently wipe away a tear I didn’t even notice escaped. Looking up at him, I blink the tears back. With a smile that stretches from ear to ear, I say, “This takes my breath away. I can’t believe you did all this.” Turning to him and cupping his face with my hands, I pull him down into a kiss.

  Breaking from our embrace, Derrick leads me to our table with his hand in the small of my back. Pulling out my chair for me like the gentleman he is, I can’t seem to wipe this smile off my face. Taking his seat across from me he says, “I hope you don’t mind, but I had the hotel’s head chef prepare our food already. I think you’ll like it.”

  “When and how did you do all this? I mean, you drove down to pick me up after you spent all day working; when did you have the time?” I ask incredulously.

  “Actually I wrapped up the last of my meetings today around three this afternoon. I had one of my managers help me out with all of this,” he says waving his hand around, gesturing towards the remarkably intimate scene around us.

  “I still can’t believe you did all of this,” I say still shocked.

  “Well, I’m glad you like it,” he says. Standing, he lifts the bottle of wine from its bucket and asks as he uncorks it, “Would you like a glass of wine?”

  As I relax into my chair, Derrick pours wine into each of our glasses. He hands me my wine and leans down to capture my mouth with a kiss. Pulling me from my chair, my chest colliding with his, he asks with a soft smile, “Dance with me, please?” We walk hand in hand out from underneath the canopy, into the dark and onto the spacious area of the rooftop. Under the stars from the night sky above and the softness from the twinkling lights, he pulls me in close to him. Winding both my arms around his neck, he places both of his hands at the curve of my back. Michael Bublé’s “Feeling Good” begins to croon over the loud speakers.

  The piano starts with a slow tempo in the beginning as the jazz number slowly begins to pick up. A mischievous grin lights up Derrick’s face as I stare into his eyes. Before I know it, I’m spun and twirled about the rooftop and then pulled into his chest. As the song progresses, the beat becomes faster as the horns in the song blare and the drums tap out a faster rhythm. Smiling a wide smile my cheeks begin to hurt, we both laugh from the fun we’re having together. This song was perfect for our night.

  Walking back to our table, I plop down in my
chair breathless from dancing and laughing. “Thank you for that,” I say as my laughter begins to die down. “That was fun.”

  Sitting across from him, I can’t help but smile. Something about being with him just feels right, and I’m not sure what it is, but I like it.

  Suddenly a waiter appears with our food, holding two silver platters covered with silver dome lids. Setting them down in front of us, I pull the dome back away from my platter, the aroma of roasted lamb chops garnished with parsley, steamed sugar snap peas, and roasted asparagus pierces my senses.

  As I place my napkin on my lap, I pick up my fork and my stomach lets out the loudest growl that I’ve ever heard. Blushing instantly, I look up through my lashes to see Derrick trying to contain his laughter. Murmuring under my breath I ask, “Is there any way you didn’t hear that?”

  Laughter erupts from him as my own mortification and embarrassment sets in. Grabbing my hand across the table, Derrick tugs on my fingers getting my attention and says when I look at him, “Babe, you have nothing to be embarrassed about. This is my fault, I shouldn’t have made you wait so long to eat.”

  Both of my eyebrows reach up into my hairline, and a smirk spreads across my face, “If you want to put it that way then, okay, I’ll blame it on you too.” Immediately, laughter consumes us both.

  By the time we have finished our meals and have drunk a whole bottle of wine, I’m feeling good. We’ve laughed all throughout dinner about random things. We have talked about what our favorite movies are; by happenstance, we both share the same favorite movie, “Due Date.” We discussed the types of music we like and dislike, unexpectedly, we both enjoy a little of everything.

  Leaning back in my chair, full from the delicious dinner I just consumed, I say, “Derrick.” Catching his attention, he looks up from his meal, and I continue, “I just wanted to let you know that I’ve had an amazing time tonight. Thank you for a memorable first date.”