Michelle Mankin: Irresistible Refrain

“They’re good,” he replied as we rode up. “Usual K&S routine on the plane ride, both of them cutting up and trying to get a cell number from the first class flight attendant. Without Bryan to help me keep them in line it was tough.”

“What?” I asked, my brows furrowing. “You said you all came up together.”

“Oops.” He gave me a sheepish smile.

I let him off the hook until I had him inside the apartment. “Dizzy Lowell.” I put my hands on my hips, confronting him. “You tell me right now. What the hell is going on?”

He set down his cases and pulled an embossed vellum envelope out of his jacket pocket. It had my name scrawled on the front in Bryan’s handwriting. “He’ll tell you himself in a couple of hours.”

I clutched the invitation in my hands and looked down at my formal gown. The light pink silk dress was a 1965 vintage Oleg Cassini, strapless and gathered in an elegant rhinestone encrusted bow beneath my breasts. It was a real find, very Jackie O. The dress and shoes had been delivered to my apartment moments after Dizzy and I had entered.

My palms were sweaty as I waited in the lobby for him to pick me up. I didn’t know what to expect tonight. The invitation just said dinner and dancing and was signed, “Love, Bryan.”

Oh yeah, I read a lot into that salutation and was mulling over the possibilities when the limo pulled into the front circle past the clipped topiaries with their twinkling white light adornments. Keeping with the sixties theme, the car was a 1968 cream colored Mercedes Benz.

Wow. This was quite the elaborate set up.

I pulled the matching silk wrap around my shoulder. It didn’t do much to ward off the damp, chilly Vancouver night air but it gave me something to do with my hands. My legs were another story. My heels felt as shaky and fragile as glass slippers as I walked out to meet him.

A uniformed driver popped out of the vehicle and scurried to open the back door for me. I thanked him as I ducked in, expecting to see Bryan, disappointed to discover that he wasn’t there.

The driver folded himself into the front, and tipped his cap to me in the rearview mirror. “Mr. Jackson said to tell you that you look beautiful.”

I smirked. I couldn’t help it. How could he know that?

“He also said to tell you that he’s waiting for you at the restaurant. It’s only a short drive from here.”

I nodded my head, settled into the seat and tried to relax. I looked out the window as he drove. The lights of downtown sparkled in the light evening mist. I noticed we were driving downhill toward the waterfront.

After just a ten minute drive, the driver pulled up in front of a tall glass building, turned off the engine, and came around to open the door for me. He waited as I smoothed out the ankle length skirt before offering me his arm.

“I’m to escort you to him,” he explained.

We rode the elevator up to the thirty-fifth floor in silence. I found myself more and more curious as to what was coming next. When the door slid open, I gasped. I didn’t even remember stepping off the elevator or the driver leaving. I just stood there in complete awe.

The restaurant was deserted, but all around me candles flickered atop tables draped in white linen and sprinkled with red rose petals. Out the windows and beyond the waterfront, the lights of West Vancouver sparkled elegantly in the distance.

The invitation, the gown, the car, and now this. I was overwhelmed with the emotions that swirled around inside of me. He’d gone to an awful lot of trouble. No one had ever done anything so special for me. Tears filled my eyes, and then he stepped out before me.

“When a Man Loves a Woman” began to play over the sound system, but my blurry eyes, my heart, my soul were all focused on him. He’d never looked so handsome or so serious. His hair was un-gelled, the longer strands resting against his forehead. A tuxedo black jacket hugged his broad shoulders, a white shirt and black silk tie underneath. Black trousers moved fluidly against his thighs as he walked toward me his hand outstretched, his grey green eyes beckoning with deep emotion.

“You look wonderful, Lace.”

I put my hand in his, a surge of warmth blushing my cheeks as soon as we touched. He led me out to the middle of the dance floor. I moved into his arms, inhaling deeply, my senses flooded with the familiar spicy scent of him. I licked my suddenly dry lips.

His presence, his hands on my bare skin, the strength of his shoulders beneath my fingertips, the evening, the way I felt about him, all of it, made me sway a bit as if I were a little tipsy.

I drew in a shaky breath and gazed up at him. His eyes were heavy lidded, his face drawn tight with desire I was sure matched my own.

He closed in. I didn’t resist.

The time for caution was over. This man had me from the moment he’d made that first silly face when I was five. I’d only gotten a tiny glimpse of his tender heart back then, but it had been more than enough to completely rock my world. He was the constant in my life, my irresistible refrain. I could no more keep myself from needing, wanting, or returning to him than I could keep myself from breathing.

It was always going to be him.

Our bodies brushed together, hard against soft, the silk of my dress rustling between us. I felt a shudder run through him. His warm hands made me shiver as they slid down my arms and came to rest in the small of my back.

His eyes burned into mine as he held me close. “Lace, I made a huge mistake in Orlando.” His voice was deep and thick with regret. “I should have been supportive instead of putting pressure on you by throwing down an ultimatum like that.”

I held onto his forearms to steady myself just as I’d done that day on the beach when he’d first kissed me. My head was spinning as if I’d just gotten off the tilt a whirl ride. “What exactly are you saying?” I whispered.

He blew out a ragged breath. “I had it all planned out, but I’m finding it really difficult to think straight, let alone make the kind of speech you deserve when I’ve got you in my arms like this.” He took a step back, not much, about an inch, but enough that I suddenly felt bereft without the delicious warmth of his body pressed against me.

He reached in his jacket pocket and I held my breath, eyes filling instantly when I saw what he held.

“Oh my God.” My wide eyes met his. “Is that what I think it is?”

He nodded.

The ribbon I’d worn around my neck on prom night.

I stared at him in dazed wonder.

“Lace Lowell, I love you. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known, and I want you to know that I’ve always had faith in you, even when you lost your way. I know that you’re no weak minded princess in need of a rescue, and that’s ok because I’m no prince. It’s really me who needs the rescue, from a life that means absolutely nothing to me if you’re not in it.” His hands moved softly through my hair and his eyes traced over my features as if he was committing them to memory.

“What I believe in most is the two of us. We’re better than any fairy tale. And if you want me to wait for a day, or a month, or a year for you, until you’re ready for us to begin our life together, I’ll do it. But just like I’ve been doing for the past several weeks, I’m gonna do it right up here in Vancouver where I can watch over you.” His eyes blazed with intensity. “You know me. I protect what’s mine.”

Holy shit.

I didn’t say that out loud. Hello. I have much more princess class than that.