Here is another chapter Bunnies! The story idea came from Divorce In Vegas by Tamara Black, but this chapter is all me. In addition, a portion of this chapter was inspired by a TV commercial.
DISCLAIMER: I owe nothing but my own thoughts, my spin and the McKinley's . I do not own "Divorce In Vegas" because that is owned by Tamara Black and her publishing company. I do not own Las Vegas. That glorious distinction goes to NBC and Universal Studios. Most importantly, there is no way on earth that I will ever claim the responsibility of "Glee", especially after the show jumped the shark after they won Nationals during season 3. Not only is that nuts, it is a daggum embarrassment!
Mercedes
There is nothing like being pampered. You just don't realize how much you need it until you get it.
I have been so caught up in my own head and at work for so long, I can't honestly remember the last time that I had even taken a breath or look at my cellphone without waiting for pending doom. I have no meetings to prepare for. No client to rush off to. No one's hand to hold as their latest drunken night had ended up on the front page of TMZ, with the strong possibility that their endorsement deals will be yanked at any moment. Not a single fire to put out.
The whole concept was foreign to me.
But here I am. I am lying in a Montecito Spa, with a mud mask on my face, cucumbers covering my eyes, the sound of relaxing music soothing me into slumber, the smell of eucalyptus peppering my senses, as my naked body had been slathered and encased in a seaweed wrap. Now, I am a virgin when it comes to seaweed wraps, but Sugar is sold on them, and that is why she had scheduled it. According to Ingrid it tones your skin, detoxes the body, and offers relaxation. In truth, it does feel rather exhilarating to be relaxed, yet icky at the same time.
Travel days are stressful, so I really needed this.
I heard the soft chimes going off and I felt the breeze tickling the exposed skin on my feet from a door being opened up. I heard Ingrid announce that it was time to get rinsed off as her footsteps made their way over to me. She reached down, removed the cucumbers from my eyes, and proceeded to gently remove the mud mask off my face with a warm, lavender scented wash cloth. It felt so fantastic on my face. After all of the mud was removed from my face, Ingrid added toner and moisturizer to my face and started to massage it in. Once she was done with that, she removed the thermal blanket from my seminude body.
"It is time for you to wash that mud off your body." Ingrid announced. "Here, let me help you down." she continued. She offered me her hand as I swung my legs over to the side of the massage table and hopped down.
"Thank you," I replied.
Ingrid walked over to the door, removed the robe from the hook that it hung on, and walked back over to me. With her holding open the robe, I slipped my arms through the sleeves, and pulled the robe around me. I stepped into the spa supplied sandals, and followed Ingrid out of the room towards the showering area.
"There are fresh towels for you to dry yourself off with. I have placed in a clean robe for you to put on once you are done. Please place both your mud caked bathrobe and your used towels into the dirty clothes hamper. You can either keep on the robe or go over to the lockers to retrieve your clothes. After you are settled, wait outside and I will come and get you, so we could get started on your manicure/pedicure." Ingrid instructed.
With that, she left me alone so I could shower the mud off my body. I untied my robe, shrugged it off my arms, and allowed it to puddle at my feet on the floor. I stepped out of my disposable spa panties and placed them in the trash. My robe went into the hamper. Placed my hand inside the shower and it was finally warm enough to enter. I stepped inside, removed the nozzle from off the wall, and aimed it at my legs to rinse the mud off before moving it up my body. Once everything was cleaned off, I dried myself off with the big, white, fluffy towel, and I put on the robe.
Instead of sitting around I a robe, I decided to go into the locker room and change back into my orange crinkle gauze sun dress. As I waited for someone to escort me over to the manicurist, I decided to give Samantha a call and take her up on her offer of attending a show tonight. When she asked me which one, I wanted to go to, I pretty much told her to surprise me.
"If Preston trusts you, then I trust you." I told her.
"That is nice to know," Samantha replied. "I will have your ticket delivered to your room within the hour. I will also call George to let him know. He will call and let you know when he is out front."
"Thanks again Samantha for everything." I said.
"That is what I am here for. Well, let me go and work my magic," Samantha chuckled and she disconnected the call.
I put my phone away once I saw Ingrid walking over towards me. Time to pick out a color.
Samantha did not let me down.
Waiting for me in my room was a ticket to O by Cirque Du Soleil. It was a spectacular show.
George drove me over to Bellagio Hotel, where the show is being performed at. When I heard that it was at a hotel, I wasn't expecting much in a way of a venue. Imagine my astonishment when I walked in and I felt like I was walking right into The Chicago Theatre. Based upon what the usher told me as she escorted me down to my seat, was that the venue holds 1800 seat. She also told me that my seat was a couple of aisles behind the wet zone.
I had no idea what she meant, until the show started.
It started out tame enough. A character entered the audience and started to perform their act. During that act, she appeared to grab someone in the audience to assist her in the trick, and eventually coxed him to the stage to announce the usual no cell phone policy. I thought that was that, until he was lifted up to the top of the curtain and pulled in. The curtains opened up. What use to be a stage was suddenly covered with water and a made-up gentleman, who reminded me of one of the key characters in Rocky Horror, appeared to be walking on water. Before I knew it, there were other characters appearing from beneath the water & another character making a 50-foot plunge into the water below. The stage became a 9 foot diving pool right before our eyes!
Right then and there, I understood what the usher meant when she told me about the wet zone.
I have absolutely no idea what the story was about or even if there was a story. Frankly I didn't care. All I know is that it was an hour and a half feast for the eyes. There was so much to look at, that I feel I may have to go back and take a look at the things that I was not able to see, or wasn't focused on the first time. I found it difficult at times to decide what to look at because there was so much going on at the same time. Each movement was just as spectacular as the last.
The amount of core strength that it takes to perform a huge amount of those acrobatic stunts is mind numbing. People were simply bending themselves into various positions that I couldn't even imagine doing without a healthy supply of Tylenol being nearby.
Needless to say, it was a breathtaking array of artistry, acrobatics, and music. I spent the entire performance sitting on the edge of my seat with my jaw hanging wide open. I had to remind myself that I needed to thank Samantha for the tickets. Chances are, I would have not chosen to see this on my own. In fact, I know that I wouldn't.
I guess that is the whole point of a vacation. To do something that is outside your comfort zone.
It was almost midnight when George dropped me off at the hotel. I wished him a goodnight and thanked him again for everything, before I made my trek up the stairs and into the hotel.
Hussle and bustle surrounded me as I entered the lobby. It was a different energy than the one that I had met that very morning. The Montecito on a Saturday night was alive activity. Then again, that was Vegas. The sounds of slot machine clanging, the shouts of victory, and the tears from individuals whose chips had suddenly gone back to the house perfumed the air. If you have a gambling problem, then the atmosphere that was currently engulfing me, definitely would be an aphrodisiac.
In my mind, I knew exactly where I was going to go. My brain was just overwhelmed by the visual feast that I had left behind at The Bellagio, that I was just too wired to sleep right now. As I was exploring the hotel prior to my spa appointment, I found this little piano bar that was slightly off the beaten path from the main action. When I ventured in earlier, the bar was not open yet. In fact, it did not open until 6, but the piano player was there practicing some new songs that he wanted to try out. I stood back for a while and just listened to his relationship with the piano. After a while, I had made myself known. He didn't seem too surprised that a stranger was listening to him play. It was almost as if he was used to it.
His name is Brad Ellis and we talked for a little while. Soon, my spa appointment time was approaching, so I told him that I had to go, but I would be back that night. A promise is a promise.
I entered the lounge area. The lighting of the room was a lot different than it was almost 12 hours ago. The lighting was soothing instead of harsh. The atmosphere was laid back and refreshing. It was a place where people came to chill and get away from the neon life that is Las Vegas.
I spotted Brad sitting at the piano. He was in middle of playing "Mack The Knife" by Louis Armstrong when I strolled up and dropped a 10-dollar bill into his snifter bowl. Brad nodded his head a little bit in acknowledgement as I stood off to the side, watching as he finished his song.
Even though I hadn't known Brad all that long, I could tell that I have found a friend. He was a quiet, unassuming guy. A middle-aged man that you would never think would be a lounge pianist at a Las Vegas hotel. He looked more like a science or English teacher instead of a musician. In his younger days, I bet that he was a full-on ginger. Ginger hair, freckles, and the whole nine yards. Now he is slightly stocky, and his hair that I bet was once a strawberry blond had now morphed into a dull brown with the slightest tinge of red left over, with gray streaks peppered in. For a man of his age, he was a rarity. He had a full head of hair and the longest bangs that I have ever seen on a man. Normally when a man gets into a full mid-life crisis mode, they either try their best to cover up a bald spot or they dye their hair some hideous dark color. But not Brad. Not one box of Clairol has touched his head. His trim beard and mustache was now a straight gray.
When he had finished, the applause was not as thunderous, because people were caught up in their own little world, but there was applause. "Thank you for that my friends," Brad spoke into his microphone. "I am going to take a little break and when I come back, I will have a special song, for a very special couple." With that, he shut off his microphone and motioned for me to sit down next to him on the bench.
I sat down next to him on the piano bench, but I chose to face the audience and leaned my back against the piano.
"Hey! I was starting to wonder if you were coming back tonight," Brad said as he leaned back to face me.
"Well, I did tell you that I would be here tonight. I just didn't tell you when." I laughed.
"Anyway, your timing is perfect," Brad announced.
My curiosity was peaked. "Oh? Why is that?"
"Well, I have a gentleman that had requested a very special song to dance with his wife for their 50th wedding anniversary," Brad explained.
"That is so sweet! But what does that have to do with me?" I asked.
"Well, you did say that you could sing," he stated.
My eyes went wide open. "I said that I sang in the church choir," I countered. "Just in case you didn't know, a choir is a group of people singing. Their voices are blended together to make harmony. There's a distinct difference. Sometimes, you don't even have to sing well to be a part of a church choir. You could just lip synch your way through. I could be one of those."
Brad took a long look at me. Just by the look on his face, I could tell that he wasn't buying the crap that I was trying to shove. "Nah. You can sing. Besides, how can you possibly turn down a lovely man who just wants to dance with his wife to At Last? I may have known you for less than 12 hours, but I do know that you are not the type of woman to deny a man his one wish."
"Damn Brad! That was low! Dirty lowdown low!"
"You do know At Last, don't you?" Brad asked as he completely ignored my rant.
"Yes, I know At Last," I stated as I mentally shot daggers at him. "But I also know that At Last is string song, not a piano one. And the last time I looked around; I do not see a violin in sight." I said as I crossed my arms in smug triumph.
"That is true. But I can make any song a piano song. So, what do you say?"
I felt myself losing this battle. "Their 50th wedding anniversary huh?"
"Yep," Brad replied.
"Fine," I said reluctantly. "But you owe me."
Brad smiled and he pushed his glasses up on his face, but not before I noticed a sparkle that danced from his eyes. "Thank you. I know that it will mean a lot to him." With that, he flicked his microphone back on and played a tune on his piano announcing that he was back.
"Ladies and Gentleman, welcome to Symmetry at The Montecito Hotel! My name is Brad Ellis and I am your piano player tonight." There was a splattering of applause. "We have a very special couple with us in the lounge tonight. They are celebrating their 50th wedding anniversary with us tonight."
I heard a little shriek. I wasn't sure if it was from the wedding couple themselves or another female who was swooning at the romance of it all.
"William McKinley, or Buck to his friends, came up to me last night and told me that he and his bride were celebrating their 50th wedding anniversary. But he wanted to do something special to celebrate the occasion. He wanted to surprise his wife with a dance. Fifty years ago, tonight, the couple shared their first dance to At Last by Etta James and he would like to dance to it with her tonight. So, ladies and gentleman, if you don't mind indulging me, could you put your hands together for Mr. and Mrs. Buck McKinley! Buck, bring your beautiful wife out to the center of the dancefloor."
By then, the applause was thunderous. I looked over and found and elderly gentleman, doing his best to coax his wife out of the booth. Her head was down and her hands were covering her face. From my vantage point, I guess she was just not use to the attention. But finally, she gave in. She scooted over to the edge of the booth and her husband helped her up. She took his arm and they walked over to the center of the dance floor as instructed.
"And to help me out with this special celebration, Ladies and Gentleman, I give you the beautiful and soulful Mercedes Jones!" Brad announced. "Please join me in giving her a round of applause," he continued before he handed the microphone over to me.
With that, I took the microphone and I stood up. I pulled the microphone close to my mouth and began to speak. "I am honored to be here tonight to celebrate your 50 years of love. May you both have 50 more." Then Brad started to play and I came in on my intro.
At last ..
My love has come along.
My lonely days are over.
And life is like a song!
Oh, yeah, yeah, at last ..
The skies above are blue.
My heart was wrapped up in clover.
The night I looked at you.
As I was singing, I was watching the couple in front of me sway back and forth to music. She was slightly taller than me. Based upon his height, he could easily rest his head on top of her head. They fit together like a puzzle. He was lanky and rugged. She was short and slightly plump. I have grown to realize that you must have no soul if you were not moved by that. As I watched, tears sprang into my eyes. Standing before me was a couple that shared 50 years of love. 50 years of understanding. 50 year of building a life together. When you see them together, the love is still there. That is something that we all search for, but few of us find. That even after all of this time, Buck still wants to hold her hand. That he still wants to do these romantic gestures for her.
And I found a dream that I could speak to.
A dream that I can call my own.
I found a thrill to press my cheek to.
A thrill that I have never known.
They were the only ones out there on the dance floor. It was like no one wanted to interrupt their moment. Our only purpose was to watch the love on display.
Oh, yeah, yeah, and you smile, you smile.
Oh, and when the spell was cast.
And here we are in Heaven.
For you are mine at last!
The song concluded and the applause took over the room. The applause got even louder when the crowd saw Buck get down on his knee in front of her, reached inside his coat pocket, pulled out a ring box, and opened it up so she could see it. Even from the distance I stood, I could see the tears forming in his wife's eyes. She was nodding her head so feverously, I thought it was going to fall off. I swear, if it wasn't for the microphone in my hand, I would be clutching both of my hands to my chest as I absorbed this moment.
A moment that Buck wanted to share with a bunch of strangers. A moment he finalized with a kiss to his wife after she said yes.
"SHE SAID YES!" Buck shouted to the room around him. Cheers erupted around the room.
I looked over at Brad and he winked at me.
"I knew you could sing," he simply said.
"I said that I sang in a church choir," I hissed underneath my breath. "But soulful? Seriously Brad? Soulful!"
Brad just shrugged his shoulders as he said, "We are talking about At Last here. I had to embellish and really sell it. Besides, you have got to admit, that you did a really good thing. Just look at them."
At that, I turned my attention back over to them. What I saw in front of me was pure happiness. I saw joy.
Buck and his wife left the dance floor and walked over to us, with a smile still beaming on his face. Buck immediately reached out for Brad's hand and shook it excitedly as he thanked Brad for the performance. Once he removed his hand, he turned his attention over to his wife.
"Honey, this gentleman is Brad Ellis. I had spoken with him earlier about getting this whole thing set up." he explained to his wife. Then he turned to me. "And this is … I am sorry dear, but I don't remember your name."
"It is alright, sir. My name is Mercedes."
"Mercedes, it is nice meeting you," Buck replied. "Brad, Mercedes, this is my beautiful wife, Shirley."
"It is nice meeting you Mrs. McKinley. Congratulations to you both on your anniversary," I said.
"Shirley, please," she laughed. "I think after serenading me, we deserve to be on a first name basis. Your voice is simply stunning Mercedes. Thank you both for what you did to make our anniversary special."
"It was an honor for us to do it," Brad answered.
"Yeah, Brad is right," I said. "Brad and I may have performed, but what you guys gave us is something that I wouldn't have missed for the world. I was honored to be a part of it."
"Well, it was beautiful. Thank you both so much. I still can't stop crying. I can't believe that Buck did that!"
"Well, I am jealous! I wished someone would do that for me," I laughed. "I am going to go all girly girl on you and ask you if I could see your new ring."
Shirley did not hesitate. She was still giddy about the whole thing, that she eagerly held out her hand and I got a close look at her ring. It was a 3-karat cushion cut ruby ring that had at least a full karat of diamonds going around the band. It was gorgeous.
"Oh, I am sure that there is a handsome gentleman out there who will be more than willing that task. A gorgeous thing like you will be snapped up in no time. What can I do to pay you both back for all of the kindness that you have shown Buck and me?"
I was about to reply, but Brad beat me to it. "There is nothing more that can be done. What everyone saw out there on the dance floor is all the thanks that we need. Speaking of which, I need to finish up my set. But if you have any more dedications, you know where I am Buck."
Brad quickly turned to me and with sincerity in his eyes, he said, "Thanks again for doing me that favor and making the dedication even more perfect."
"I wouldn't do it for anybody else." I replied as I nudged his shoulder. "But thank you for the push."
Brad smiled at all of us and turned around so he could sit at his piano again. Before long, the sounds of his piano took over the room.
Since Brad started playing again, Shirley and Buck invited me to sit with them at their table. A waitress came over to their table and took their drink order. Buck insisted on paying for my drink, but I told him that it wasn't necessary. The more I fought it, the more adamant that Buck became. Shirley told me that I might as well give in. That is a battle that I will lose. So, I gave in and ordered a Bronx.
Once the waitress left, I got the story of their life. That they were originally from Lincoln, Nebraska, but they have been living in the Denver, Colorado area since the 80's. That they met at the most least romantic place in the world. They met at a bowling alley when Shirley was 19 and Buck was 24. She worked at the bowling alley and she handed him a pair of bowling shoes. But Buck had found a way to always have a problem with his shoes. Buck confessed that the reason why he kept doing that is because he just wanted to be close to her. That up until that point, he thought that falling in love at first sight was just something that happens in movies. But the moment that he had looked into her eyes that first night, he was a goner.
"But when I got off my shift that night, there was Buck, waiting for me outside with a single rose in his hand. He handed the rose to me and wanted to know if he could take me out that evening to an all-night coffee shop that was a few blocks from the bowling alley. Once we got there, we talked until the sun came up. I knew right then and there, that I was going to spend the rest of my life with him."
Then his number came up for the Vietnam war about a week after their coffee date. Buck said that he had to make plans for the future and he had to do it immediately. But for him, there was no future without Shirley. So, he proposed using his high school class ring because he didn't have the money to get her the ring that she deserved. But the moment that Shirley said yes, he promised her that he would give her a real engagement ring once he got back.
Due to the time constraints, they drove over to Las Vegas to get married. Buck went to Vietnam knowing that he had a reason to live and to come home. That if something should happen, Shirley would be informed and taken care of.
Shirley explained that Buck did come home. That very day in which he came home that first time, he presented her with a ring that he had bought in Vietnam. In all, Buck did two tours of duty in Vietnam and then returned to Shirley. Buck opened up his own construction company and Shirley continued on with her pre-school teaching job. Since Buck still wanted to be a part of the service, he signed up for the reserves. Together they raised 4 kids and have 9 grandchildren.
I listened intently to the story that they were telling me. I had all sorts of questions floating around in my mind. But there was only one that was in the forefront. "Shirley, how did you know? How did you know that Buck was the one? You said that you knew the night that you met that you were going to spend the rest of your life with him. You had only known him a week before you got married. How did you know what you were feeling was real and not some Priscilla Lane movie fantasy."
"I'm shocked that you would even know who Priscilla Lane is." Shirley laughed.
"Well, what can I say? My ex was a big fan of classic movies. TCM was pretty much our main channel," I chuckled.
"To answer your question, sometimes that you just know. Trust your gut. Nine times out of ten, your gut is right. The hard part is just listening to your gut and following its advice." Shirley said as she reached across the table and took ahold of my hand. "Mercedes, sometimes you just have to fall and have the faith that he will be there to catch you. Fifty years ago, I closed my eyes and I let myself fall backwards. The fall felt very thrilling, yet freeing at the same time. But when Buck caught me, I felt safe. I felt at home. Even after all of this time, he is still catching me. From the moment that I took his last name, I have never had one moment of regret."
Buck just sat there, looking at his wife, and smiled the entire time. Shirley her head and looked at her husband. He leaned down and pressed his forehead to her's and there was a mixture of love and contentment in his eyes.
I felt jealous of that look.
Time flew by pretty fast and before we knew it, Buck looked at his watch and noticed the time. It was approaching 2 am. He said that he and Shirley will have to go now. They got an appointment at the exact same wedding chapel where they got married 50 years ago that day. Shirley didn't know about that part. He whispered that information to her once she had accepted his re-marriage proposal. They bid me a goodnight with a promise to speak again and they headed back to their hotel room.
The waitress came by and cleared off the empty glasses that Buck and Shirley had left behind. I still wanted to nurse my second Bronx of the night before I tucked myself into bed. As I looked around the lounge, my eyes fell on a couple sitting at the bar. Well, I can't really say a couple. Based upon what I was seeing, the woman was doing a bunch of the talking and the male just wanted to concentrate on whatever was on the TV.
But as I looked closer, there was something familiar about that man sitting there. Butterflies were fluttering inside my stomach. There is only one person on this planet that gives me that funny feeling. It couldn't be him. Maybe Buck & Shirley's romantic story has gone into my head. Maybe this Bronx is doing something to me. I have been told that I am a pretty cheap drunk after all.
It was New Year's Eve 2008 and Chicago's Navy Pier was buzzing with activity. My roommates Brittany, Bree, Sugar, and myself had all decided to come back early from our Christmas holiday break, so we could bring in 2009 with a bang. It was our senior year at Northwestern and it would be the last time that we will be bringing in the New Year as college students. We knew that once we get our diplomas, we would all be going our separate ways.
Somehow, Bree's father managed to get 4 tickets to a New Year's Eve dinner cruise. It pulls out of Navy Pier at 8:00, so we will be out in Lake Michigan by the time the fireworks go off at midnight. So, we all piled into Bree's 2005 Volkswagen Beetle and drove down from Evanston for the festivities. I personally thought dinner cruises screamed romance, but I was wrong. Sure, the six-course meal that they served was spectacular. But once the tables were removed, the club atmosphere came alive. The music was blaring, the drinks were flowing, and everyone, including myself was having a good time.
For once, I wasn't the one at the table guarding our drinks and purses as Brittany, Bree, and Sugar were plied with attention. However, with my red off the shoulder bondage dress with fuck-me-raw red pumps did not have me off the dance floor for long.
But for some strange reason, I felt eyes on my all night. I would look around, but I didn't see anything out of the norm. No one that would have caught my eye. So, I kept dancing and laughing with my friends, though I couldn't shake that feeling. You would think that such a thought would leave me nervous or on edge, but I didn't feel that way at all. I was excited, but I had no idea why.
I was talking with Brittany and her playmate for the night, when Sugar came up to us and grabbed both Brittany and myself by the arm and pulled us in her direction. "Come on ladies. It is about 15 minutes until midnight. It is time for us to go on deck to watch the fireworks." Sugar said excitedly.
"Should we go grab our coats?" Brittany asked. Brittany was wearing a black and silver vintage 1920's fringe dress. The straps were thin and the cut was a low. The guy that she was with could not stop touching her fringe. Brittany was definitely going to need a coat.
"Why should we need our coats." Sugar replied.
I rolled my eyes and looked at her. "I don't know Sugar. Maybe because we are out in the middle of Lake Michigan. Maybe because we are in Chicago and it is winter. Take your pick, but either way it is cold." I answered her.
"Pee shaw!" Sugar retorted. "I can bet that there are plenty of men out there who would be willing to keep you warm, especially with you wearing that dress, Mercedes. Come on! I am going to track down Bree and we will meet you up there. 2009 is almost here! Chop! Chop!"
"We are making memories ladies." Sugar shouted above the music as she went off to locate Bree.
Brittany and I looked at each other and said "Chop! Chop!" at the same time as Sugar walked away. I just shook my head in wonder while Brittany threw her head back and laughed. But we quickly collected ourselves and followed our leader's orders as we climbed up to the ship's deck.
Once we made it to the top, we saw a bunch of people doing their best to get the perfect spot so they could view the fireworks that will rain over the city at the stroke of midnight. It was a clear night, with the moon shining the nights sky. I could see the beautiful city lights that decorated the edge of Lake Michigan. From my vantage point, I could make out the Chicago Children's Museum off in the distance. The lights at The Ferris Wheel at The Navy Pier can still be seen sending people around in circles. There is nothing more beautiful than downtown Chicago all lit up at night.
It didn't take long for us to find Bree. She was waving her arms in the air to get our attention. Sugar was standing next to her and was animatingly talking with a guy that was right next to her. Apparently, the man was smart. He was wearing a coat. Brittany and I made our way over to them as the guy that Brittany had picked up was following her like a lost puppy.
Members of the crew were walking around the deck and they were handing out noise makers, hats, and glasses that had 2009 on them. I took a noise maker and placed the glasses over my eyes. I grabbed my camera and asked Brittany to take a photo of me all geared up and ready to bring in the new year.
I did a pose as Brittany snapped the photo. Then Bree wanted to get in on the action and we took a photo together. Before we knew it, Sugar managed to convince a guy to take a photo of the four us standing on the deck, with our arms wrapped around each other, leaning on the railing and the city that we love gleaming in the background.
"Say 2009 ladies!" the gentleman shouted!
"2009!" we all shouted back. The flash went off and a memory of that night was forever set to film. I was bringing in the new year with my 3 closest friends and there was no one else on the planet I wanted to be with at this moment. Sugar was right. We were creating memories.
More photos were taken and before we knew it, an announcement was made over the loud speaker by the DJ starting the countdown.
10!
9!
8!
7!
6!
5!
4!
3!
2!
1!
"HAPPY NEW YEAR!" the DJ announced.
I could hear shouts surrounding me as the song Auld Lang Syne was blaring out of the speakers, and the boom of the fireworks were going off in the nights sky. Couples around me were making out, including the ladies that came with me to celebrate the new year. They were seriously macking with total strangers.
As I was turning my body back to the sky above to watch the fireworks, somebody grabbed me from behind, twirled me around and kissed me. He didn't just kiss me, he KISSED me. I mean, I have been kissed before, but I have never been kissed like this. My body was on fire. My legs felt like they no longer had the ability to stand. He pulled me closer and held me in such a way that I knew I wasn't going to fall. Instead of doing the sane thing and slapping him across the face, I just got lost in his lips and eventually his tongue. Never before in my life did, I feel so tingly, so swept away.
The fireworks were going off all around me, but I didn't need to have that visual of what I felt. That kiss was giving me fireworks. That kiss was giving me life.
I felt him pull away from me and both my heart and my head were hoping that wasn't true. But when he did, I opened my eyes, looked up, and saw the greenest eyes that I have ever seen piercing back at me.
The stranger just smiled and looked at me. "I have been wanting to do that to you all night." he said.
"You have?" I whispered, still in obvious shock.
He gave me such an intense look, I felt that I could cum just from that look alone. Even though there was a celebration going on all around me, the only thing I could hear was the intense heart pounding inside my chest. The only thing I could feel was his warm breath tickling the tip of my nose.
"From the first moment I saw you, all I could think was in all of the gin joints, in all of the towns, in all of the world, she walks into mine. I just had to meet this beautiful woman."
His answer took me by surprise. No guy has ever been that vocal about me. That scared me and also excited me at the same time. It made me bold. "What can I say, I like gin." I replied in a quiet, sexy voice.
"My name is Sam. Sam I am."
"Hi" I said quietly, with a dash of wonderment mixed in.
Okay, it is not the alcohol. It is not the McKinley's love story. That is really is Sam. That is really my Sam or at least he was my Sam. Granted, it was just the back of his head, but I know that head anywhere.
Since he hasn't seen me, I took the opportunity to get a really good look at him. Gone was the longish blonde, lemon juice, highlighted hair. In its place was a professionally quaff cut. Sam's hair was a nice warm sand color. It made him look more mature and not necessarily that boy band or Bieber look that he was going for when we were together. But, if he would just turn his head slightly away from the TV, I could really tell.
But in truth, I really didn't need this mysterious man to turn his head. I knew it was Sam.
Now what do I do? Do I remain in this darken booth and wait for him to leave? Do I just slip out without him seeing me? Since the bar appears to be with open view of the exit, that option is not possible. Should I just put on my big girl panties and just deal with it?
I knew what I had to do. Shirley was right. I need to learn and trust my gut.
So, I downed the last bit of my Bronx for liquid courage and I scurried out of the booth. Before I made it over to the bar, I walked over to Brad. I needed to grab his attention and say goodnight to him. Once I completed that, I casually sauntered over to him at the bar. The closure I got, the more nervous I became, especially when got an up-close look at him and verified that it is Sam.
"In all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world, he has to walk into mine." I stated with more confidence that I felt at the time.
Sam swiveled around in his stool and looked at me. His face was filled with astonishment once he had registered as to who the voice belongs to. Much to my immediate regret, he was even more handsome now than he was 10 years ago. He was no longer a boy; he definitely was a man now. A man that would look entirely yummy on the side of a bus.
But once the shocked look in eyes disappeared, there was another look that took over its spot, but I wasn't clear as to what kind of look it was. Was it disgust? Was it a why me? Was it anger? Was it hate? Was it love? Was it an I need to get the Hell out of here look? I just didn't know.
A smile creeped on Sam's face. "Isn't that my line, Cede?"
"Well, I never thought that you were the Humphrey Bogart type. James Dean, sure, but never a Humphrey Bogart. Besides, you didn't answer my question." I replied.
"And what question is that?" Sam asked.
"Out of all of the gin joints, why are you at mine?" I seductively questioned.
"What can I say, I like gin." He countered.
"Play it again Sam," I flirted right back. "Play it again."
The blonde sitting next to Sam did not appear to be a fan of our little scene. She was looking back and forth between us and trying to figure out what was playing out in front of her. One thing was for sure, judging by the daggers that were shooting out of her eyes at me, I was treading on her turf and she did not like it one bit.
Too bad, so sad.
I took my eyes away from his piercing green ones and turned my attention over to the blonde. "Ah, excuse me, but you are sitting in my seat."
She looked all in a huff. "And who are you?" she asked.
I smirked and was just about to answer her, when Sam answered her question on my behalf. "She is my wife," he said simply, never taking his eyes off me.
Apparently, it was taking a while for Sam's answer to fully registered in the blonde's mind. Hell, I was shocked at his answer. I definitely was not expecting that. Sam called me his wife? Talk about hashtag mindblown.
The bottle blonde was still looking at me like I have taken away her prized toy. A four-year-old whose mouth was moving into a position of starting a hissy fit. Since Sam and I were not budging from our spots, she just grabbed her drink, slid off the barstool, and stormed away in a huff.
I guess I had just ruined her vacation. Didn't care.
"Time is definitely your friend Cede," Sam said as I walked over to the barstool to try to look sexy as I climbed my short self onto the seat. I don't think I had succeeded. I look more like a child trying to get into their booster seat. "You look like you hadn't aged a day. Just as beautiful as the last time I saw you."
"I bet you say that to all of your ex-wives," I answered back as I hoisted my purse onto the bar counter.
"The last time I looked, you were my only ex-wife," Sam answered before he took a thoughtful sip of his drink.
Thank you guys for all of the love and the encouragement to continue on with this quest. I have what I want to do in my head, but I find it hard to actually pull those ideas from my brain to formulate some kind of story to this platform. It may be taking me longer than I thought, but I am determined to keep trudgen along. Thank you for all of your feedback, reviews, follows, and favs. I cherish each one of them.
Until We Meet Again ... Goodnight Bunnies!