‘Here we go again,’ Zane translates for me.
‘How many more toasts are there going to be?’ I ask, feeling the burn in my veins.
‘We cut the cake now,’ Olga says. She cuts the cake and puts the slice on a little plate and offers it to me.
‘First one is for the birthday boy,’ she says.
I break off a piece and put it into his mouth. He catches my fingers and licks them. Around us the staff are milling about eating cake and helping themselves to all the delicious goodies Olga has made. I look into Zane’s eyes and all I want to do is tell him I love him, but I can’t. I know it’s too soon.
More glasses of vodka are passed around. ‘To the beautiful women in this room,’ Zane says looking into my eyes.
I know that it is probably just another Russian custom because all the men are echoing it in Russian, but for some crazy reason I blush with pure pleasure. The vodka is going to my head and I really should stop or I’ll ruin all my plans.
I fork a bit of crabmeat salad into my mouth and watch Zane surrounded by his staff. They treat him the way people who have suddenly discovered a lion is tame do. They try to touch it, but carefully, and with great caution. There are many birthday cards for Zane, but I notice that nobody has bought him anything. I guess they had the same problem as me, but can’t buy him a masturbator like I did. After about an hour Zane calls the last toast.
‘Na pososhok,’ he says, and everybody drinks the last drink.
He takes my hand and we leave them to carry on drinking. When the door closes he looks down at me. ‘So you threw me a surprise party, huh? How very American of you?’
I grin. ‘An American party with vodka, Russian toasts, and strawberry cake?’
‘So … who told you it was my birthday?’
‘Er … I’m not really at liberty to say.’
‘Olga then.’
‘I’m not saying.’
He grins. ‘I might want to give her a raise.’
‘Do you really?’
He shrugs. ‘Maybe.’
‘You’ll have to promise that you will before I consent to reveal my source,’ I say sternly.
‘You’ve already revealed your source, silly dove.’ He musses my hair. ‘Thank you. I haven’t had a birthday party since I was twelve.’
‘Wow! Why?’
A cloud passes across his face. ‘That’s a story for another day,’ he says.
I don’t let that cloud rain on my parade. I smile seductively. ‘I’ve got one more surprise for you.’
‘Oh yeah?’ he asks cockily.
Fourteen
Dahlia Fury
Have some candy.
-King Candy
‘Oh yeah,’ I say, and take him upstairs to his room. I open the door and find the two girls have had time to slip upstairs after the cake was cut and light more than a hundred candles. The flames are flickering and dancing all over the floor, on the bedside table, the dresser, the windowsill. The candles on the floor are arranged to make a clear path towards the bed. I turn around to look at him and he is gazing around the room with a bemused expression. I lead him to the bed and placing both my hands on his chest push him. He falls back on the bed and looks up at me.
In the yellow flickering light of the candles he is as beautiful as a fallen angel or a wonderful marble statue. The aquiline nose and strong jaw are like something a Renaissance stonecutter might have spent years sculpting in his drafty studio.
‘I come bearing gifts,’ I say to him.
His eyebrows rise. ‘You’re the gift, babe.’
I giggle. ‘No, you’ll like this one, and I want you to know that I didn’t use your credit card to get these, OK?’
‘OK,’ he says almost warily, and sits up.
I reach out and take the two packages covered in silver wrapping paper. I sit on the bed and give them to him. He shakes it and the little Star Wars flash drives rattle in their box.
‘Go on open it,’ I urge.
He tears the wrapping paper and opens the box. ‘You got me toys?’ he asks incredulously.
‘They’re not toys. They’re flash drives.’ I take Chewbacca from the box. ‘See, pull it apart and there you go.’
‘Right. Great. Thanks,’ he says.
That didn’t go down too well. Maybe Star Wars flash drives are really a Star Wars fans sort of thing. Never mind. Luckily I got the male masturbator. ‘Now open the other one,’ I say, holding that out to him.
He takes it, opens the packaging, and looks up at me with even more incredulity than he had shown when he thought I had given him toys. ‘You got me a male masturbator?’
‘Yeah, and the lubricant that goes with it. You insert your dick in here,’ I say pointing to the hole in the gadget.