But my actual attention is focused elsewhere, across the room where a beautiful brunette is greeting friends and family all alone, on what should be a happy evening. Instead, Cora looks distracted and upset. Even from my distant spot across the packed room, I can sense that something is bugging her.
Where the hell is Marky?
I scan the room for my son, unsure why he’s late. I even made him leave work early so he could go home and get ready.
My eyes land on Cora again. Wow, she looks insanely good.
Her deep blue dress compliments her milky skin perfectly, and fits her like a glove. Her tousled brown hair is swept to the side in a pretty style, showing her delicate neck and the deep-v neckline of the dress. My gaze lingers a little on the neckline, and I let it slip lower to take in her full backside and how well the dress hugs it.
Cora is a beautiful woman, and any man would have to be blind not to see it. Of course, she’s my son’s fiancée, but I’m a red-blooded male with 20-20 vision. She’s absolute dynamite, and I can’t help but notice.
However, something tells me that she doesn’t see herself as a stunningly attractive woman. On more than one occasion, she’s made a self-deprecating comment about her weight or clothing, and it’s all I can do to not shake her, and tell her how gorgeous she is.
I don’t know why Marky isn’t complimenting her non-stop. While the kid is sweet enough, my son sometimes has his head in the clouds. Sure, he’ll say she’s pretty or that she looks nice, but he hasn’t really learned to communicate in a way that makes a woman feel truly special.
I take another long sip of my drink. Fine, I can’t blame Marky entirely, I admit to myself. It’s probably because his mom and I got married too young and had our own communication issues.
I could also blame Cora.
The woman is a temptress, whether she knows it or not. With those deep brown eyes, plump lips, soft, creamy skin, and full, womanly figure, she looks like an ad straight out of a dirty magazine.
And she’s so determined to be sweet and friendly. She has no idea what I’d really like to do.
I shake my head. I shouldn’t be thinking about my future daughter-in-law like this.
But I can’t help myself. I let my gaze flit across the room again to land on the curvy brunette.
I frown at what I’m witnessing.
God, she looks like she’s about to cry, I realize as I watch her hang up her phone.
Before Cora can get a moment alone, I watch as another well-wishing family member assaults her to see the engagement ring. Cora’s normally lively eyes look slightly pained while she talks politely with this newest guest.
I observe the interaction – the relative asking about the ring, Cora holding her hand out daintily, and the relative fawning over the expensive jewelry. To my surprise, however, Cora doesn’t appear to want to flaunt the ring, but instead holds her hand close to her heart as if showing how much it means to her.
I smile as I watch the young girl cherish her engagement ring. But then, I frown a bit. I know that ring far too well. I gave it to my ex-wife about twenty-five years ago, when I found out she was pregnant with Marky. It had been the right thing to do at the time and I married my pregnant college girlfriend like a good man. But the relationship had quickly gone sour, especially when I found out she’d been cheating on me for years.
I shake my head at the recollection. It was a hell of a time, trying to pry that ring off of her finger.
In front of Marky, I’m careful to never speak ill of his mother. But in my private thoughts, I can’t help but be angry with Angelica. I’ve never known martial bliss, and Marky’s never had a loving, attentive mother.
She couldn’t even make it to her own son’s engagement party, I think sourly, looking around the room. Shows how much Marky means to her.
A voice interrupts my thoughts.
“So that’s when I told the bartender like, nah-ah, you have to pour me another drink because – ” the busty redhead is recounting some absurd story and I try to focus on her but I can’t.
“Of course, he should,” I reply automatically, hoping my inane comment buys me a few more moments of silence. But my reverie is interrupted when I notice that Cora is now standing completely alone, staring out the doorway and looking completely miserable.
Screw it. I stand up quickly. Shit, what’s this girl’s name? I look at the redhead, trying to recall what we were talking about.
“Excuse me, I see someone I need to greet,” I smile slightly at the woman who’s been talking nonstop since I sat down and head over to the bar. She pouts at me and literally shakes her bust, hoping to entice me to stay. But I merely look away and stroll to the bar.