by Dover, L. P.
“Hello, Owen,” she says before I can tell her it’s me. My heart jumps, and it pounds a bit harder, and my palms sweat. Really? What am I, a teenager?
“I’m calling to see how you thought the party went?”
Ensley clears her throat. “Jordan and I think the party was a smash. You already know you sold out of tickets. The DJ gave the ball a five-star rating on his site. Everyone seemed to enjoy themselves. Catering said there weren’t any issues. Are you and Damien satisfied?”
You have no idea.
“We are,” I tell her. “We haven’t spoken to our employees, but after our meeting this morning, we can let you know if there were any issues.”
“Oh yes, please. Jordan and I always want to know the good and bad. It’s how we improve with the events we plan. Speaking of, I’m assuming you’re calling about the charity dinner?”
“I am. I thought we could get together for dinner and hammer out the details?”
There’s a long pause before Ensley makes any sort of noise on the other end. “Sorry, I was just looking at the boat skimming across the lake.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were on vacation. We can chat via email if that’s better?”
Ensley laughs. It’s one of the best sounds she makes when we're not in bed together. “I’m not on vacation. I live on the lake. Would you like to come here tonight?”
“Yes,” I blurt out with a squeak. I clear my throat and push down the embarrassment creeping in. “Yes,” I say, a bit more manly this time. “What can I bring?”
“Wine. I have everything else.”
“Swim trunks?” I ask teasingly.
“Sure, we can sit in the hot tub.”
My mouth doesn’t have a response to her statement, but my cock does. He definitely wants to sit in something hot and wet. “Wow, hot tub and lake. You’re living the life, Ensley.”
She sighs. “I’ll email directions. See you around six? We can discuss the charity event over dinner.”
“I’m looking forward to it.” We hang up, and I lean back in my chair. Tonight, I will come clean with her and end this charade once and for all.
Famous last words.
* * *
The drive out to Ensley’s was exactly what I needed but didn’t know it until I was off the highway and driving the back roads. For being October, the air temperature is perfect. I rolled the windows down, turned on my favorite playlist, and cruised to her place without a single worry. Her home is far enough away from the city to be out of town, but not so far you feel like you can’t get back to town easily.
The directions Ensley emailed me were perfect. She put down how many miles on each road, what landmarks to look for, and which hairpin turn I should prepare for. It was the little things GPS never prepares you for and always catches you off guard.
When I arrive at her driveway, I pause for a minute. I expected to see her house from the road, but it is set far enough back that there’s a bit of mystery to her place. Her last name is on her mailbox, and for a reason unknown to me, this makes me smile.
Cranking my wheel, I let my foot off the brake and allow my car to coast down her driveway. When her house comes into view, my mouth drops open. The large massive windows catch my attention first. The windows are darkened, almost black, which gives her much needed privacy from the people around her. I get out of the car, with the two bottles of wine I picked up because I never thought to ask her what she would prefer and close the car door. The gravel beneath my feet crunches with each step I take. Climbing the steps, I avoid the front door and walk to the end of her deck and lean against the railing. The lake is perfect. Calm with small waves lapping at the sandy beach.
“Do you like what you see?”
I startle and am about to nod when I glance at her. Ensley’s dressed casually, in jeans, a T-shirt, and long cardigan sweater. Her long hair is in a braid, cascading down her back.
“I do, very much,” I say without taking my eyes off her.
Ensley smiles, then steps to the railing. “After the party Jordan and I planned for the Panthers, business boomed. I bought my own slice of heaven instead of opening an office downtown. Jordan and I save a lot of money this way. We have very little overhead. Some of our decorations, we keep. We have a supply of tables and chairs for small events, but we store those in a storage unit. Everything else, we rent. Makes things very easy.”
“Makes sense, actually.” I hand her the two bottles of wine with a smile. “I wasn’t sure what you’d like so I picked one of each, a red and a white. I hope they’re okay.”
Ensley takes them from me. “They’ll be perfect. Do you want to come in or would you rather sit out here?”
I run my hand through my hair and step closer to Ensley. I’d give anything for her to call my bluff, to tell me she knows it’s me behind the mask. “That’s a really tough question,” I say even though I know I’ll follow her anywhere.
“It is,” she agrees with me. “We can eat out here.”
Or bed. I can definitely eat in her bed.
I motion for Ensley to go into her house and follow behind her like a puppy dog. If the view is anything to marvel at, so is the inside of her room. I expected to find wood everywhere with this open concept, but her ceiling and exposed beams are white, and her walls are navy blue. The contrast is perfect.
“This is my family room, with no family though. Jordan comes out occasionally and my parents will come stay for weekends, but it’s just me.”
“Are you lonely?”
Ensley shrugs. “Sometimes, but I chose to live out here.” She walks into her kitchen, which is also white and navy. I’ve never looked at color schemes before. I normally tend to go for gray, but think Ensley is onto something with is blue.
She motions for me to sit at the island while she pours us each a glass of wine. There’s a charcuterie board with different meats, cheeses, fruits, and nuts. “Dinner is almost ready.”
“What are we having?”
Ensley laughs. “You’re the only one who forgot to ask the important questions. We’re having Persian chicken, over a bed of rice. It’s not much, I let the time slip away.”
“It sounds perfect.” To send my statement home, my stomach growls loud enough for Ensley to hear. She chuckles and hands my glass of wine to me. She went with the red, which likely compliments the meal we’re having.
Ensley sits next to me and reaches for the board just as I do. Our hands touch and the familiar zing I feel when we’re together radiates through my arm. We look at each other, our eyes steady and focused on one another. I open my mouth to tell her who I am, who I truly am, but the timer goes off. It buzzes for what seems like forever until Ensley turns away.
I don’t know if I was saved by the bell or if this is a sign I need to tread carefully. What if I’m going about this the wrong way? What if Ensley doesn’t want to know who the masked stranger is?
I have so much to lose by telling her. Yet, I’m hopeful I have even more to gain by blurting it out. If I could just say, “Ensley, I’m the guy you slept with at the ball,” I’d be able to breathe without feeling like I’m gasping for air.
Ensley is next to me, picking at the snacks. “We have a few more minutes until it’s done. Do you want to eat in here or outside?”
“Outside would be nice. Can I help you set the table?”
She smiles, nods, and starts pulling our necessities out of drawers and cupboards. Together, we work side by side until the timer dings again. When she disappears inside the house, I realize if I don’t play my cards right, if I don’t come clean soon, I may lose my heart in this mess we’ve created.
7
Ensley
There’s this feeling of déjà vu I can’t seem to shake. Every time I’m around Owen, I feel it. It’s not a bad thing, it’s just strange. I’m comfortable around him, maybe even more so than I should be.
By the time the chicken is done in the oven, it’s already started to get dark outside. I
have twinkling lights around my back deck, giving it a romantic glow; it’s the perfect night. Especially with the crisp October air. I pile the chicken and rice onto our plates and Owen takes his. He follows me outside to the table and sits down. The houses all around the lake are lit up, some with Halloween inspired lights. Mine kind of looks like Christmas right now. There’s even a house with a giant blow up of the Stay Puft marshmallow man standing on their dock. Ghostbusters is one of my favorite movies. I watch it every year around Halloween.
“What are you smiling at?” Owen asks, chuckling.
I nod toward the house across the lake. “Look at the Stay Puft marshmallow man. He’s cute.” The chicken smells amazing so I dig in.
He turns his head and looks, bursting out with laughter. “That’s pretty damn epic. I always watch Ghostbusters on Halloween.”
I gasp. “Really?” I wipe my mouth with a napkin. “I was just thinking about that movie. I watch it too. Maybe not exactly on Halloween night, but always around there. Usually the last week of October.”
Owen smiles and it makes me tremble. There’s something about his face that draws me to him. “After the charity dinner, we should watch it together. My theater room doesn’t get used very often.”
“That would be great. I’ve always wanted my own in-home theater.” I spoon another bite of chicken and rice into my mouth and swallow before speaking again. “What are your favorite Halloween type movies?”
His eyes twinkle. “That’s easy. The Monster Squad and The Legend of Sleepy Hollow.”
“Oh, my God,” I laugh. “I haven’t watched The Monster Squad in forever. The werewolf used to creep me out. Especially the part where he gets blown up and all his body parts connect back together.”
He nods. “Yep. And what gets me every time is when Horace kicks the werewolf in the balls and says the ‘Wolfman’s got nards’.”
We both laugh so hard it hurts my chest. “We need to add that to our list of movies to watch.”
Owen picks up his wine glass and takes a sip. “As you wish.”
Hearing him say that makes my heart jump. All the breath rushes from my lungs and I freeze. It’s as if time stands still but only for me. I heard those words, just the other night at the party from my Gatsby. Don’t get me wrong, plenty of people say those words, but after hearing Owen, he sounds exactly like my mystery man. Could it seriously be him? I don’t see how. Owen’s eyes are green, not unless he wears colored contacts. I’d have to get closer to him to see if he is, but I can’t do that right now. I’m so confused I don’t know what to do.
Owen stares over at me and pauses with his fork at his mouth. “Are you okay?” When his lips pull back in that smile of his, I know I’ve seen it before…and not just at the radio station or our meetings. If he is my Gatsby, does he know I’m his Daisy? Owen sets his fork down, his eyes searching mine. “Ensley?”
Shaking my head, I snap out of it. “Yes, sorry. I’m fine. I was just thinking of other movies we can watch,” I say, lying. I need to figure out a way to see if it was him. Obviously, if he knew the mystery woman was me, he would’ve said something by now, right? I drink my glass of wine and pour another. I’m going to need a lot more before the night’s up. “Okay,” I begin, opening my notebook with the charity dinner details in it. Once we’re done with work, I’ll grill him about the masquerade. “I worked all morning on the charity event, getting everything squared away. The venue is set. I’ve booked the caterer and the guest list has been sent out. I received confirmation from most of the attendees.” I skim through all the pages and hand the notebook to him so he can see. “You know a lot of high-profile people. Guess it’s your charismatic personality.”
He flips through the notebook and smiles. Now that I’m really looking at him, his hair is exactly like my mystery man’s as well. He’s wearing it the same way he did that first night at the masquerade over a month ago. Owen shuts the notebook and slides it over to me. What are the odds of it being him? Talk about coincidence.
“Why thank you,” he replies with a smirk. “My parents always put together a charity event together every year. As they got older, it became too much work for them, so I took it over. With all sorts of celebrities and musicians visiting the station, I’ve become good friends with a lot of them. The guest list just kept growing. We raise about three million every year for local charities.”
“That’s amazing. Is there a specific reason your parents started the event?” I ask. I’m definitely curious to know more about him.
Owen finishes off his wine and sits back in his chair, averting his gaze to the lake. “My grandfather died from cancer when he was only fifty years old. I was young, so I don’t remember him, but my mom took it really hard. Donating to charities helps her cope.”
“I’m so sorry. I can’t even imagine.”
He focuses back on me. “That’s why I want to help. I have a friend whose son is autistic. Part of the charity money goes to Action for Autism. It’s amazing how far the money goes.”
I never would’ve thought he’d be the way he is. He’s surprised me. “You’re a good man, Owen Jameson. I’m surprised some lucky woman hasn’t snagged you up yet.”
He chuckles. “If we’re going to talk about that, I’m going to need the hot tub and more wine.”
Standing, I finish off the rest of mine. “Sounds like a plan to me. I’ll go change.” We carry our plates into the kitchen, and I put them in the sink before going to my bedroom. I rummage through my dresser until I find my favorite black bikini. I slip it on and grab a couple of towels out of the bathroom. Is it dangerous to get in the hot tub with a man who could very well be my mystery man? Hell yeah, it is, but I have to know.
As I’m walking down the hall, I hear the patio door close. I peek around the corner and see him through the window as he gets into the hot tub. Here we go. Carrying our towels, I take a deep breath and walk out the door. Owen watches me and it’s not hard to see the need in his eyes. He’s looked at me like that before. I set the towels down and slowly step into the steaming water. Instead of sitting beside him, I move to the opposite side so I can face him. The water is hot against my skin and I sigh as I slip further down into it.
“All right, where were we?” I begin, grinning wide. “Oh yeah, you were going to tell me why some lucky woman hasn’t stolen you away. I find it hard to believe you’re single.”
Owen shakes his head and laughs. “Why is that hard to believe?”
I shrug. “You’re handsome, successful, funny, and you have good taste in Halloween movies.”
He laughs again and runs a hand over his face. “I don’t know. Guess the right woman doesn’t know who I am.”
That’s an interesting way of putting it. “Have you dated anyone recently?”
His eyes narrow curiously. “I’ve been out a couple of times. You?”
I nod. “Same.” Taking my hand, I glide it across the top of the bubbling water. “I was hoping to see you at the masquerade, but I never found you. Although Ferris Bueller did find me.”
Owen chuckles. “Nice. I really do hate I missed you. I was there though. I’m sure you saw Damien in the middle of the dancefloor doing the Batdance.”
Gasping, I slap a hand over my mouth. I had no clue it was him. “Wow. Although I’m not shocked. He seems like the type who could go out there and let loose.”
“And he does,” Owen replies. “That’s what I like about him. I’m a little more reserved.”
“So am I. For the most part.”
He stretches his arm wide and rests them on the hot tub. “I’m turning the tables around on you right now. Why are you still single?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I guess I don’t go out as much as I used to. All my friends are married and having kids now. I can’t exactly go out by myself. That’s why the parties have been a blessing. I’ve met a lot of people that way.”
“I have no doubt,” he says, his eyes slowly dropping to my lips and then back to my eyes. �
��I bet you have men waiting in line to talk to you.”
This makes me laugh. “Not exactly. My mind has mostly been focused on work these days.”
He snorts. “I understand that.”
Clearing my throat, I avert my gaze to my hands as I move them through the water. “So, what were you dressed as at the masquerade?”
Owen stares at me for a second and then smiles. “James Bond. You?”
James Bond could easily pass as Gatsby. “I was a flapper girl,” I answer. “Some people say I reminded them of Daisy Buchanan from Gatsby.”
Owen’s gaze never wavers from mine. We stare at each other for a few minutes and I keep hoping he’ll say it was him, that he’s my Gatsby, but he doesn’t. Am I wrong? The only other way to know for sure is his eyes. He could easily be wearing colored contacts. Why he would want to cover up his gray and gold colors is beyond me. Then again, I wore blue colored contacts for a couple of years to make my eyes pop. Now I love my green eyes and I’m proud to show them off. All I have to do is get close enough to Owen to see if he’s wearing contacts. There’s usually a light-colored ring around people’s irises if they’re wearing them. It won’t prove he’s wearing colored ones, but it’ll at least, prove he has them on.
Owen’s gaze drops to my lips again. “I hate I didn’t get to see you. I’m sure you were really beautiful.”
“Thanks.” Slowly, I move closer to him and place my hands on his thighs. “I hate I missed you too.” I situate my body between his legs and his arms wrap around me, pulling me in close. It feels like I’ve been in his arms before. When I look in his eyes, I can see the rim around his irises. He is wearing contacts, but so do millions of other people. I want to tell him to take them out, but I don’t want to do it just yet. All I have left is to kiss him. I know his lips, his touch. They’re so close to mine, only a breath away. He closes the distance between us and as soon as his lips touch mine, I know. I open to him, allowing him to taste me and vice versa. It’s all so familiar.