"You look beautiful," Callista remarked.
"Thank you," I blushed, "You're stunning."
She was wearing a crimson-red tight-fitted corset gown. Her black, smokey eyes and deep red blips looked mysterious and dangerous. Her blown-out hair, delicately falling over her shoulder, made her elegance timeless.
I took the glass of champagne she offered to me and inhaled its contents.
"What type of restaurant is this?" I asked.
"The one my husband always takes me to after returning from a business trip," she smirked.
"Is he as handsome as you are beautiful?" I coerced.
A devious smile overtook her as she said, "Well done."
"I'll be meeting him tonight?" I asked.
"Maybe," she replied, "He always makes it home."
What had she meant by that remark?
"We're here," she announced as the car stopped.
I went after her and froze—Tan building with blue valences for every window decorated with a white HW. At the top were bold letters, HARRY WINSTON.
"What are we doing here?" I choked.
"We need jewelry for tonight," she reminded me before pulling me in.
We went to the second floor with an empty table and two white chairs. The contrasting black and white tiles stood out against the white marble walls. We sat in the chairs for ages when a gentleman walked in, two individuals holding jewelry.
"For you, Callista," he gestured. His hands were so delicate as they removed the necklace from the bust, "From our Icon Collection, The
Winston Cluster Diamond necklace. It has a hundred ninety-five pearl-shaped diamonds set in platinum," he explained while placing it around her neck, "You're favorite ruby drop earrings to match."
"For you, my dear," he turned towards me, and a woman holding another jewelry set followed.
"From the New York Collection, the Cathedral Necklace. Five pear-shaped Colombian emerald, baguette, and marquis diamonds set in platinum," he explained the beauty of the necklace to me as he made his way over, "Your hair, love."
"Sorry," I blurted out before lifting my heavy hair. An ice-cold shiver ran down my spine as the diamonds graced my skin. The weight of the diamonds made me realize how expensive this was. It wasn't just jewelry; it was art.
I turned around to see him presenting me with a set of earrings.
"Pearl-shaped emeralds to complete the look," he smiled.
He held up a mirror for me and placed it on my ears.
"Wow," I whispered.
The emeralds were the same color as my dress, making my hair more intense red. The way it glimmered and shined in the reflection of the lights was breathtaking, and the contrast from the platinum allowed my skin to glow beneath its effortless beauty. This felt like a dream, and I didn't want it to end. My hand raised to touch the emeralds, but I froze as if an invisible force refused to go.
"Cinderella," he smiled.
My hand dropped as a nervous smile crossed my face, "No, I'm nothing like Cinderella."
"Learn to compliment, darling," he advised, "You're a stunning young woman."
He turned and began walking away while dismissing the two women.
"I'll have them back to you by tomorrow afternoon," Callista said. It's time to go, beautiful."
The restaurant was down a flight of stairs leading to a massive underground gambling room. Very dim lights accompanied the dark walls and floor on the various tables where wealthy individuals sat.
"They never warn you how heavy it is," Callista remarked.
I felt a warm hand caress the nape of my neck. My eyes fell shut, and the gentle caress soon became a firm massage, releasing the built-up tension. A small whimper erupted from my throat as my head slightly tilted back. The minor relief it brought me was euphoric.
"Is this Ivy?" a deep, husky voice emerged behind us.
My eyes opened to reveal an older silver fox standing there. He was tall and handsome, with a silver-grey beard to match. His chiseled jaw, exposed cheekbones, and perfectly arched black eyebrows made his presence speak volumes. His formal suit and unbuttoned white undershirt accentuated his muscular physique.
"Dimitri," he introduced, "Callista's husband."
"Ivy," I replied.
His eyes examined me briefly, "You're beautiful."
I turned to Callista for help, but she bowed her head, drinking champagne.
"Thank you," I answered. Unsure of what to say next, I decided to join in a glass of champagne.
Callista began to rise, "I'll be back."
Dimitri grabbed her by the waist and kissed her cheek, which she received with a smile before disappearing. When he sat in the seat across from me instead of leaving, I was uncertain what to do. His dark grey stormy eyes locked onto mine. Something about him was intense.
"How long have you known my wife?" he asked.
My body tensed, "Not long."
Before drinking, he slightly nodded, "Where did she meet you?"
"At the bar I work at," I answered.
"Bartender?" he clarified.
"Yes," I confirmed.
"How old are you? If you don't mind me asking," he leaned back slightly. He was cool, calm, and collected.
"Twenty-five," I replied, "How about you?"
He adjusted his Rolex while glancing at me, "Older than you."
Unintentionally, I rolled my eyes.
"How many people are you fucking at the moment?" he questioned.
I froze. Who the hell did he think he was asking me this question? He just met me. I pressed my tongue on my lip, "How is that any of your business?"
He took a sip from his glass, "If you're going to start fucking my wife, then everyone else is impermissible."
"I never do as I'm told," I stated, "If I want to fuck other people, I'll fuck other people. If I do fuck your wife, I'll do it as I please. Finally, not that it's any of your business, but I'm a virgin."
Gravity pulled his undivided attention toward me, "Virgin? Twenty-five?"
"Yes," I confirmed, "Anything else you'd like to interrogate me about?"
His gaze softened, "I apologize if I came across that way. I only want my wife to be safe, and for the woman, she decides to bed. I meant no disrespect, Miss Ivy."
"Blackwell," I corrected.
His puzzled look was in response.
"My last name is Blackwell," I giggled.
"Miss Blackwell," he smirked, "Does my wife know?"
"Know what?"
"That you're a virgin."
"The topic never came up, but she's an intelligent woman. She more than likely knew when she kissed me."
"You've kissed?"
"Yes."
He shifted in his chair, "Was she your first kiss?"
"Yes," I nodded.
His intense gaze could devour me from where he sat, "No one's ever experienced the pleasure of what it's like to be inside of you?"
There was that familiar sensation arising within me once more. I had to break eye contact. I seized the glass on the table and drank its contents. What was taking Callista so long?
"Miss Blackwell?" he pressed.
"No," I rasped, "I've only been kissed."
He leaned towards the table, his fiery gaze still locked onto mine. The burning intensity made sweat break out upon my flesh. My heart's pace began to quicken. Was this desire? His thundercloud eyes looked like they could destroy me like a ravaging storm.
Our gaze broke as Callista sat back down next to me. Dimitri's hand settled upon hers, and she returned it with a smile.
"Getting to know one another?" Callista broke the silence.
"Miss Blackwell is an interesting young woman," he concluded, "Not your typical naive rich debutant type, and she doesn't seem to want to be taken care of."
"Taken care of?" I repeated, "I've been doing that since I was seventeen. I have my place to live and my own money and remain independent. I'm not some helpless little girl who needs to be coddled and constantly reassured. I'll get it; if I need something, I'll take it."
"I see why you like her," he chuckled, "Her feistiness and independence."
"We never knew what it was like having someone who didn't need us, just wanted us," Callista said.
"Us?" I repeated.
Callista gave a seductive laugh.
What had she meant by that remark? They were so intoxicating: Callista with her effortless beauty and Dimitri with his rugged handsomeness.
A gentleman approached Dimitri and whispered, before receiving a check, "I believe it's time we removed ourselves from this fine affair and indulged in other delights."
I inhaled as much champagne as possible without looking like a nervous, inexperienced child. They both stood up, Dimitri holding a helping hand for Callista, and she gave him a look of approval as he presented his other hand to me.
"Would you like to come home with us?" he offered.
My cheeks flushed as I searched the tabletop for answers. My mind was uncertain of what to do, trembling my body. Taking one final drink, I grasped Dimitri's hand. Here I was again, leaping out into the unknown. Falling. Just because.