 Sitting at my vanity in a ridiculously tight push-up bra and a pair of silky thong panties, I realize that this is the first chance I've had to slow down in the past four days. Staring into the mirror, I watch the steam from the shower encircle the navy blue sheath dress hanging from the rod behind me. Sweeping a makeup sponge covered in foundation over the bridge of my nose, I pray that the dress is wrinkle-free within the next thirty minutes when Danny will be here to whisk me away to some still undisclosed location.
He's been so secretive about the plans that he's made for us tonight, and my curiosity has nearly been my undoing. Thinking that he'd tell me something less cryptic than 'a night out on the town', I whined about not knowing how to dress appropriately. Instead of answers, I got a heavy black garment bag with this low-cut, silky blue number inside. It really is quite beautiful, but when I found it draped over the foot of my bed waiting for me after Thursday morning's therapy session, I tried it on and found that the plunging neckline begged for some serious cleavage. And so, during my time off on Friday, I made a not so quick trip to Victoria's Secret in search of the perfect enhancer for my God-given assets. Good choice, I think, tracing the tip of my perfume applicator deep within the valley between my breasts and over the creamy white tops overflowing from the scalloped lacing.
Danny and Victoria aren't the only ones good at keeping secrets... I'm harboring quite a few of my own. Luckily, Danny has been so preoccupied with some project at Sancorp that he's immersed himself in his work, buying me some much needed free time to set things into motion.
Delaying the hardest tasks until later in the week, I spent my Wednesday afternoon in search of the ideal birthday gift for him. Finally finding it at a quaint little antique store in nearby Clayton, I had it boxed and wrapped, making it back to the gates of the Santos mansion with nine minutes to spare before the three o'clock therapy session.
Thursday's lunch with Rick at Company and dinner with Bill at Towers, though both items on my 'to do' list, should in retrospect, not have been scheduled on the same day. Even though I worked off a few calories on the dance floor with Bill that night, I made a vow to fast the next day, remembering the size five dress that I would be squeezing into on Saturday night. When I asked Rick for the key to dad's cabin, he was so totally enthralled in his story about one of his patients that he didn't even ask for an explanation as to why I needed it. As he worked it off of his key ring, I found myself more than a little disappointed that I had spent the better part of the morning concocting an elaborate lie about needing to spend some time alone there to decompress after the surgery.
Forgoing lunch on Friday bought me some additional time, affording me the opportunity to make stops on opposite sides of town as my plan stepped into high gear. I hit the mall first, walking through the doors with an enormous amount of gusto after having been lucky enough to find a parking spot near the front. After cramming my breasts into half a dozen bras that shoved them to unnatural heights, I settled on one and left it behind the counter while I browsed the camisoles. Spending upwards of forty-five minutes trying on every cut, texture, and color, I finally chose a cream-colored satin one with peekaboo lace at the breasts which hit me mid-thigh. Staring at my reflection in the mirror, it felt good to see myself in a piece of lingerie that didn't conjure up some vague memory of Jesse from the recesses of my mind. After paying for my selections, I headed to Wicks and Sticks which to my delight, had relocated to the space directly across from Victoria's Secret. There I purchased a dozen medium-sized, three wick, cedar wood-scented candles. Could you get anymore obvious, Michelle?, I asked myself, looking down at the bags of lingerie and candles in my hands as I made my way through the growing crowds of shoppers and back to my car.
Driving across town, the city streets soon turned into rural ones as I followed a route that is as familiar to me as the back of my hand. Passing by the creek, I noticed that the water was as crystal clear as I remembered it to be. When the log cabin that I have known since my childhood came into view, I brought the car to a screeching halt and grabbed my bags, closing the remaining distance on foot. Unlocking the door, I expected to find an inch of dust on everything, but was instead met with a sight for sore eyes... drop cloths on every piece of furniture. Having cut my work time in half, I sent a prayer of thanks to whoever was the last to use the cabin and who obviously thought that dusting was as loathsome a chore as I do.
Having folded and stacked the drop cloths in the closet, I put fresh sheets on the bed and scrubbed the bathroom from top to bottom. Shoving Danny's gift into the closet and stashing my lingerie in the cabinet underneath the bathroom sink, I returned to the bedroom and spent at least twenty minutes trying to decide the perfect placement for all twelve candles. Satisfied with my work, I took a deep, cleansing breath and surveyed the scene that I had created, trying to quiet the dance of the nervous butterflies in the pit of my stomach.
Smiling as I drove away, I watched in the rearview mirror until the cabin was nothing more than a tiny speck in the distance. There are so many memories there... both good and bad. Mom and dad went there to fish every Labor Day weekend. Phillip brought Annie there to detox. Blake and Ross welcomed their three children to the world there. Tonight, I'll create a new memory when Danny and I make love for the first time there.
I am brought out of my reverie as the tip of my curling iron grazes the skin of one knuckle. Withdrawing my hand in pain, I bring the injured finger up to my lips and lightly blow my cool breath over the fevered flesh. Inspecting myself closely in the mirror as I stand to temper my throbbing finger under a cold stream of water, I am glad to see that even in my dreamy daze, I have managed to create a flawless, glowing complexion with very little makeup. Working a small amount of styling gel through my hair, I watch as the tight curls morph into soft, bouncy waves that beautifully frame my heart-shaped face.
Returning to my seat at the vanity table, I add just a touch more definition to the shadow along my brow bones, giving my eyes a more 'evening' look. After adding a hint of perfume over the pulse points across my wrists, along the column of my throat, behind my earlobes, and on the backs of my knees, I stand and remove the dress from its hanger, reaching behind the shower curtain to turn off the scalding hot water. Carrying it with me to the bedroom, I drape it gently over the bed before retrieving a garter and a pair of sheer, thigh-high stockings from my lingerie drawer.
Pulling the garter over my hips, I sit down and begin to work each stocking over my freshly shaved legs, trying desperately not to snag the delicate material on my newly manicured nails. As I fasten the clasps of the garters to the tops of each stocking, I realize that it's been so long since I've had the opportunity or occasion to feel this 'girlie', that I'd almost forgotten how hard being a woman really is. Unzipping the back of the dress, I step into it, working the fitted material over the curves of my hips and breasts before straightening the spaghetti straps over my shoulders and releasing the breath that I have been holding.
Stepping into my heels, I walk back to the bathroom to see the finished product. Smiling at my reflection, I turn profile in front of the mirror, watching as my hands glide over my stomach, hips, and ass. The dress feels like second skin underneath my fingertips, and I marvel at the cleavage spilling forth. Victoria is my new best friend, I think, laughing as I grab my beaded bag and head to abuela's room for help zipping me up.
My breath catches in my throat and I have to clutch at the wall for support when a vision in a custom-made tuxedo appears at the opposite end of the hallway. He's looking down, adjusting the cuffs of his crisp white sleeves beneath the black jacket, a long stem yellow rose in his left hand.
Glancing up as he draws nearer, he looks equally stunned when his eyes meet mine, and he stops in his tracks so that his eyes can blaze a fiery trail over my body. Licking my lips, I blink eyelids heavy with arousal as I watch him close the distance between us.
Reaching for my hand, he brings it to his lips and kisses it, never breaking eye contact as he whispers against the knuckles, "You're beautiful, Michelle."
Sighing, I lean against the door frame as I straighten his bow tie and the boutonniere on the lapel of his jacket, saying, "You're not half bad yourself, Mr. Santos."
Pressing the stem of the rose into the palm of my hand, he says, "This is for you." Then placing a chaste kiss near my ear, he whispers, "I'd love to kiss you right now, but I'm afraid I may wrinkle you."
Grabbing the sides of his face, I don't even care that I've spent the last two hours sitting in a sweltering, steamy bathroom, waiting for the wrinkles to work their way out of this dress, as I say, "Let's risk it." Pulling his face to mine, I open my mouth under his, waiting in anticipation for the sweet warmth of his tongue to send me into oblivion. He doesn't disappoint. Pulling me up against his body with one arm, he lets the other hand rest on the side of my face, gently tugging at my bottom jaw to allow him better access to the depths of my mouth. Clutching at the back of his jacket, I crush my body into his, feeling his semi-erect penis straining underneath his trousers as it presses into my stomach.
The friction and heat of our bodies against one another is nearly unbearable, and his lips abandon mine as he draws in a deep breath, feathering light kisses over my throat and the tops of my breasts. Wrapping my arms around his shoulders, I giggle when he buries his nose in between my breasts and inhales my scent. Lifting his smiling face so that I can look into his eyes, I say, "Thank you for the dress, by the way. Whoever picked it out has wonderful taste."
Returning his attention to my enhanced bust line, he answers seductively, "Josefina helped me select it... but it's you who's filling it out, Michelle."
Smiling, I remove his hands from my hips and step back slightly, watching his eyes follow the work of my hands as I guide his up the sides of my body to the undersides of my breasts. My nipples tighten in anticipation and I lean into his palms, whispering, "I'm a size B, Danny. This isn't all me... I've got a little help under there."
As his thumbs draw circles around the tight peaks, he presses me against the door frame, seizing my lips with his once again. There is a measured amount of lust behind the kiss and I feel myself reeling when it ends. Opening my eyes, I laugh slightly, raising my fingers to wipe the smudges of lipstick from beneath his parted lips. If I wasn't so curious to see what he has planned for us tonight, I'd forget about the seduction scene that I set up at the cabin, lead him into my room, and make love to him right now. Instead, I summon up a great deal of willpower and say, "We'd better get going, Danny. I promised abuela we'd stop in to see her before we left."
"You're unzipped," he tells me over my shoulder as I walk in front of him.
Turning to face him, I answer, "Well... I was on my way to abuela's room to get some help with the zipper, but I got a little sidetracked."
Smiling, he places his hands on my shoulders, turning me away from him, and says, "I may as well be of some use." I can feel him gathering the material of my dress together between the thumb and forefinger of his left hand, while his right eases the zipper slowly up my back. Feeling the body heat coming off of him in waves, I have to close my eyes to regain my equilibrium when his fingers linger over the clasps of my bra. An image of him ripping it from my body works its way into my mind, but I extinguish it quickly so that I can walk on steady legs into abuela's room.
Knocking softly, we enter the room holding hands, and she smiles up from her dinner tray with a full mouth. "Ay, Dios Mio!" she exclaims, wiping the corners of her mouth and looking from Danny and me to a beaming Olga who sits across from her. "Look at mis ninos, Olga. Are they not the two most beautiful children on the face of this earth?" Nodding her head in agreement, Olga opens her mouth to say something, but abuela cuts in, ordering, "Take their picture, Olga."
I search Danny's face when he lifts his bowed head to look at me, and I see that he is already beginning to turn three shades of red from embarrassment. He chuckles slightly and I give his hand a light squeeze as Olga disappears into the closet to locate the camera. "It's really not necessary, abuelita. We need to get going," he says, and I watch as she deflates slightly.
Lifting her chin high into the air, she says in a quasi-stern voice, "I insist, Daniel." Then turning her eyes to mine, she gestures to the pictures atop the fireplace mantle and finishes, "I'd like to have another happy memory to add to the collection."
Shaking my head in understanding, I turn to Danny and mouth the words 'Humor her' before Olga emerges from the closet, fiddling with an enormous flash bulb. When I hear Danny groan in frustration, I pinch the skin of his hand and try to hold back my own laughter at the same time as I whisper, "Be good."
Danny encircles me in his arms from behind, resting his chin on my shoulder and his cheek against mine as we clasp our hands together over my stomach. Olga snaps picture after picture like a proud mother on prom night. In fact, if I had a huge, gaudy wrist corsage, I'd swear that this was junior prom with Bill as my date and Rick as the photographer. When she finally runs out of film, Danny says, "Thank you, God."
As we start to leave, abuela says, "Have a good time. Enjoy the last night of your twenties, Daniel." She flashes me a knowing smile, and I nod to her in understanding as Danny practically pulls me from the room. She and Olga have organized a surprise birthday party for him tomorrow, and it is my job to keep him occupied until the early afternoon. Not a problem, I think, giggling uncontrollably as I wonder what abuela would think if she knew just exactly how I plan on doing that. As I pull the door closed behind us, I hear abuela say to Olga, "It's so good to hear laughter return to this house, no?"
"Where are we going, Danny?" I whine for the eighth time in the twelve minutes that we've been driving. "Please... tell me," I beg, sliding my hand up his thigh as he downshifts, and we roll to a stop at a red light.
Turning to me, he strokes my cheek lovingly and says, "We're almost there."
Pouting, I face forward and fold my arms across my chest. When the light turns green, I hear him snort as he shifts into first. "It's not funny," I whimper.
Looking into the rearview mirror as he changes lanes, he insists, "I'm not laughing, sweetheart."
Just as I am prepared to argue some more, we turn into the parking lot of the country club and drive to the valet booth. Watching Danny tip the valet and hand him his keys in exchange for a ticket stub, I say nothing as I step from the car, laying the yellow rose on my seat. Placing his hand in the small of my back, he escorts me to the elevator and pushes the 'up' arrow. Glancing around while we wait, I notice other tuxedo clad men milling about in the lobby, talking to their beautifully dressed dates. Once inside the elevator, Danny presses '2' and we begin to make the slow climb. Sensing the question that I am too afraid to ask, Danny answers it, saying, "I haven't been here since Easter."
I stare at him intently but as the doors slide open, I am immediately caught off guard by the bustling commotion that greets us. There are several small clusters of people gathered around a set of huge oak wood doors. As we make our way to the entrance, someone reaches out to shake hands with Danny and he graciously stops to talk. With my curiosity peaked, I wiggle out from under his hand and continue towards the doors alone. Letting my eyes drift upward, I read the words 'Grand Ballroom' on a gold plaque hanging above the closed doors. Wondering why Danny would bring me to the Grand Ballroom of the country club, I try desperately to make eye contact with him across the room... to no avail.
Just when I think that I will surely die from the suspense, a small group of people to my left begins to disperse and I see behind them a black sign with white lettering mounted on an easel. I read the words aloud, "Sancorp Industries Charity Gala. Keynote Speaker: Daniel Santos, CEO." With my mouth agape in shock, I search the ever-growing sea of faces for him once again but cannot find him. Locating a hostess dressed in a black and white uniform, I see that she is passing out programs, and I rudely rip one from her hands and open it up. My eyes skim over menu items and auction items before finally coming to rest on the lower left corner of the first page where the bold black lettering is set off on either side by asterisks. Tears spring to my eyes as I read, "All charitable contributions will benefit breast cancer research."
Raising a shaky hand to wipe away my tears, I feel a familiar pair of arms wrap around my waist, and I sag against his body as I utter, "You're amazing."
"You're just now figuring that out?" he asks with a laugh, and I turn in his arms so that he can see how truly moved I am.
The cocky grin on his face fades into a genuine smile as our eyes meet. "How did you organize this at the last minute?" I ask, cradling his face in my hands.
Remembering how preoccupied with work he's been this week, I know the answer to my own question, but I let him explain nonetheless. "I've put in a few extra hours at the office this week, that's all. I knew how eager this group would be to come together and show off their money." Leaning into me, he whispers, "It's like a pissing contest to see who can be the biggest philanthropist. It's a disgusting display, but if it benefits a good cause... I'm all for it." Standing back, he looks me in the eyes and says humbly, "It's not a big deal."
Silencing him with a finger against his lips, I shake my head 'no' and say, "It is a big deal, Danny."
Behind me, I hear instruments being tuned and feel a cold burst of air against my legs as the heavy double doors swing open, and people start pushing past us to file inside. With a hand on my cheek, he brings his lips to my ear once again, and I strain to hear his whispered words over the buzz of the crowd around us. "I hope this makes up for the celebration dinner you planned with abuela and Olga that I ruined on Monday night with my jealousy and my temper."
Following him into the ballroom, I stare at his back, sighing heavily. The words 'I love you' are on the tip of my tongue, threatening to spill from my lips at any minute, but I will not risk my heart by saying them. It's not even fair to expect him to feel that way about me... after all, only three weeks have passed since he stormed into the courtyard in the middle of my interview with Ray. So for now, I will keep my feelings to myself, and keep hope in my heart that one day he will return those feelings.
Letting my eyes feast on the beauty of the room, I notice that only a portion of the ballroom floor on my right has been left untouched, leaving very little room for dancing. A three piece orchestra is sitting perched atop a slightly raised platform directly across from the dance floor, each member in matching uniforms, poised and ready to play. To my left there are countless numbers of small, round tables draped in white linen tablecloths and decorated with pink chrysanthemums.
Danny and I spend the next forty-five minutes mingling with various business associates and clients. Having become accustomed to him praising me for my skills as a physical therapist, it feels foreign to see him in his element, and it is my turn to marvel at his business savvy as he encourages everyone to bid high at the auction for the sake of charity. Secretly thrilled at having been introduced to countless, nameless faces as 'his date', I slip my arm through his and lean into his shoulder for support, closing my eyes as I feel his lips in my hair.
The lights begin to flicker and he whispers, "Let's find our seat." Sitting at a table that is front and center to the stage, I pick up the place card from my china plate and trace my finger over the beautifully drawn letters of calligraphy that spell out my name. I watch as dozens of servers scurry about, bringing plate after plate of food to each of the tables. The champagne is free flowing and an auctioneer begins to take bids on various paintings, antiques, and jewelry.
Danny is just beginning his dessert course and I am still working on finishing my smoked salmon when the Master of Ceremonies announces the keynote address. I absolutely despise public speaking, but Danny doesn't seem the least bit nervous when he wipes his mouth and smiles at me, walking to take his place behind the podium under thunderous applause. Setting my fork down, I turn in my seat to face him, watching him clear his throat and take a sip of water as he waits for the crowd to fall silent.
"Ladies and Gentlemen... as Chief Executive Officer of Sancorp Industries, I welcome you to the First Annual Breast Cancer Research Charity Gala. I'd like to thank those of you who bid on the lovely items up for auction. For those of you who did not... I urge you to give generously to this worthy cause so that a cure may be found within our lifetime. As you enjoy the food, the champagne, and the music tonight, I want you to remember that with your help... breast cancer can be eradicated. I know that some of you in this room may be cancer survivors, while others may still be bravely fighting their battle. Some of you may have watched a loved one win their fight, while others may have watched a loved one succumb."
Looking directly into my eyes, he begins, speaking from his heart and not his notes, "A dear friend of mine who recently faced the possibility of a breast cancer diagnosis was given an invaluable piece of advice. She was told that rather than facing her ordeal alone, she should put it into God's hands. She did just that... and it was her faith in God that helped her make it through one of the toughest times of her life. So tonight, before you return to your meals, I'll leave you with a poem that I'd like to dedicate to that special woman."
Leaning back against the smooth edge of the table for support, I close my eyes, listening as the most beautiful baritone voice I've ever heard speaks to my heart,
***"One night a man had a dream. He dreamed he was walking along the beach with the Lord. Across the sky flashed scenes from his life. For each scene, he noticed two sets of footprints in the sand; one belonged to him, and the other to the Lord.
When the last scene of his life flashed before him, he looked back at the footprints in the sand. He noticed that many times along the path of his life, there was only one set of footprints. He also noticed that it happened at the very lowest and saddest times in his life...
This really bothered him and he questioned the Lord about it. 'Lord, you said that once I decided to follow you, you'd walk with me all the way. But I have noticed that during the most troublesome times in my life, there is only one set of footprints. I don't understand why, when I needed you most you would leave me.'
The Lord replied, 'My precious, precious child, I love you and I would never leave you. During your times of trial and suffering, when you see only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you.'"***
I cannot hold back the tears that spill forth from my eyes and down my cheeks, and I am unable to form one coherent thought as I mouth the words 'I love you' from my seat. Unsure as to whether or not Danny saw me profess my love for him in the middle of the country club's dimly lit Grand Ballroom, I am encouraged when he doesn't seem to be able to rip his eyes away from mine as he finishes, "Thank you all so much for coming. Please enjoy yourselves tonight." I watch as the Master of Ceremonies gestures to the musicians, who begin to softly play their instruments over the loud chattering in the room.
Danny crosses the stage and closes the gap between us, taking long, confident strides. "That was beautiful, Danny," I whisper as he leads me to the far corner of the room, through a set of French doors. Stepping out into the chilly night air, goose bumps raise the flesh of my bare arms and I rub them vigorously. Gallantly, he offers me his tuxedo jacket and I willingly take it and wrap it around myself, lowering my chin to my chest so that I can breathe in his scent from the lapel. The music from inside is being piped onto the terrace through strategically placed speakers, and when I look up at him, he's extending his left hand to me.
Placing my hand in his palm, I watch as his fingers curl around it, and he snakes his right arm around my waist and draws me to him. We begin to slowly move against one another in rhythm with the stringed instruments, his heart beating against his chest as wildly as mine. Placing our clasped hands against his shoulder, he turns his head to the side to kiss each of my fingers before turning towards my ear and whispering, "All I could think about while I was up there was getting you alone out here so that I could dance with the woman I love."
Staggering back slightly, I search the depths of his eyes, seeing that the words that are on his lips are also in his soul. Smiling broadly, I cradle his chin in my hand as I watch his lips draw agonizingly slowly towards mine. His lips are warm and gentle underneath mine, and I savor every sensation as he slowly traces the tip of his tongue over first the top and then the bottom. Feathering kisses across his jawbone, I make my way to his ear where I tug at the lobe with my teeth and bathe it with my tongue before whispering, "I love you so much, Danny Santos. I want to prove it to you." Letting my free hand slide to the front of his trousers, I massage him, feeling him pulse and throb in my hand as I whisper, "You are so going to get lucky tonight."
He is unable to form any intelligible words but when my hand leaves his crotch, he grabs my ass and lifts me slightly off my feet towards him, rubbing me against his erection. Smiling, I ask, "Wouldn't you say that we've been sociable enough this evening?" When he nods into the crook of my neck, I continue, "Great. Then come with me." Fishing the valet stub out of his pant's pocket, I step back and see a look of utter confusion on his face. "You're not the only one who's been keeping secrets. I've got a few up my sleeve, too," I say seductively, hooking my index finger under his bow tie and leading him back into the ballroom, through a crowd of unsuspecting people. Bauer cabin... here we come.
*** "Footprints"... Author unknown***
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