“Shut the front door! But why?”
“The charity ball, silly.”
“No way!” I stand, grabbing the tickets from his hand.
There are six tickets to the New York Annual Charity Ball to raise awareness for orphaned kids. These tickets are like gold dust. I’m speechless. All I can manage to mouth is the word how.
“Let’s just say Daddy owes me big time after he accidentally dropped Mom’s ten-carat Asscher-cut ring down the drain and made me go in head-down, ass-up to get it.”
Eric comes from a wealthy background. His parents are part of an elite family that goes back generations. Surprisingly, Eric wants to get a job and not work for his father. A few times we spoke about it, Eric mentioned his father’s crowd isn’t so welcoming of his homosexual lifestyle.
“Holy shit, E! Can Nikki get fitted as well?”
“Of course, but I want to be there when her boobs don’t fit in the dresses, and she starts cursing at Carolina.”
We both laugh at the thought. The girls are big, but there’s no one complaining but her. Rocky even has names for them—Dolly and Pamela.
“Is she bringing the Dolce & Gabbana fall line?”
“You betcha.” He winks.
“So, I’m going to ask Julian to be my plus one.” I glance at Eric, hoping he will understand.
“Honey, I’m just glad your lady garden is getting watered,” he utters, making circles with his fingers while pointing to my crotch. “Emma will be my date. We have it all planned out. We act like a couple, so we can walk around scouting out the potential. Then about halfway through, she splashes champagne on me and tells me that although I’m a fantastic lover with the biggest dick she’s ever seen, she is sick of my workaholic ways. It’s then we hope someone swoops in, patting me down, telling me I can do better than her. We start chatting, and before you know it, we’re picking out china patterns at Williams-Sonoma.”
“That’s some plan. What does Emma get out of this?” I ask, trying hard to contain my laughter.
“She gets to walk around with me, the fantastic lover.”
Poor Emma. I know all too well how Eric’s power of persuasion can get you in trouble.
It’s midday when I finally head down to that new Japanese restaurant around the corner. I enter through the revolving doors, spotting Julian immediately.
“Hey, gorgeous.” His face brightens as he leans in, kissing me softly on the lips. He smells so masculine. I’ve been meaning to ask him what he wears, so I can go to Bloomingdales with Eric and spray it all over myself like some deranged stalker.
“What, no cape?”
With a knowing smirk, he tilts his head doing that sexy thing with his eyes. I mean seriously, I’m imagining wild things involving capes, masks, belts—all in the bat cave.
“It’s at the dry cleaners,” he playfully responds.
Julian grabs my hand, leading us to a table he has reserved. He slides my jacket off my shoulders, grazing his hand down my arm. I can feel goosebumps forming. This man is going to be my husband. Despite my earlier argument with Nikki, I relish the thought of being his wife.
We browse the menu discussing our options before settling for the chef’s pick of the day. We chat about work, and I know I need to ask him to be my date for the charity ball on Saturday night, cutting it close.
The food finally arrives, and we devour each bite. Five-star rating from me. I don’t know how Eric picks it every time. His gaydar is spot-on when it comes to food and fashion.
There’s a moment of silence, my cue to get this over and done with. I’m so hesitant. Now, he’ll be attending this important event as my fiancé. Almost like he can sense my hesitation, he lifts my hand to his lips and kisses my engagement ring. I feel my body ease from just his sheer touch.
“I love this ring on you,” he murmurs.
“I love that you love this ring on me.”
Placing my hand down, he flashes his perfect smile before taking a bite of his food.
“So, there’s this thing on Saturday night. I’m wondering if maybe you might be interested in going with me? I know you’ve said you hate mingling with the elite unless it’s for a scoop—”
“The charity ball?” he asks, trying to keep a straight face.