Just a Number(74)
Smiling, I take a step back and hold out my hand. “Shall we, then?”
Her eyebrows pull together and her lips purse to the right as she glances down at the floor. When my eyes follow, I notice that she’s lifting her skirt slightly to show off her bare feet. It’s then that I remember she asked me to go and pick up her shoes.
“Oh, right,” I respond, feeling like a bit of a tool for having forgotten to give them to her. I turn to the hall closet, grab one of the boxes that are in there, and hand it to her after taking her intricately designed metal masquerade mask and setting it next to mine on the front door table.
She looks confused, glancing down at the big red bow I placed on the top of the pristine white box. This look only deepens when she takes the top off, bringing her gaze back to mine. “Owen, these aren’t the shoes I asked for,” she says, picking up one of the bright red shoes.
“I know,” I respond quickly. “And I know I probably shouldn’t have done this without asking, but I couldn’t find the ones you requested where you said they’d be. My search of your apartment also came up empty.”
A look of realization flashes in her eyes and she shakes her head. “That’s right! I loaned them to Liz a couple months ago.” She hands me the box, and I hold it while she balances on her left foot to put the right shoe on, then the other. She seems elated as she takes her first steps in them, and then looks at me again. “How did you know these would go with my dress?” she inquires. “You didn’t peek before you left, did you?”
Chuckling, I take her hands in mine and bring them to my lips, kissing them both lightly. “I assure you I did nothing of the sort. Confession time?” She nods, and I step back, reaching out and opening the closet door.
There, on the floor are three other white boxes, dressed with varying colors of bows in black, blue, and ivory.
Amelia’s laughter fills the apartment, and she slaps her hands to her mouth. “You bought me four pairs of shoes?”
I shrug. “Well, yeah. I had to have a backup plan…or several, I suppose.”
“So, why didn’t you give me the black ones?”
“I, um, sort of fancied the red when I saw them, and when I saw the color you chose for your lips, I knew they’d be perfect.”
Her smile widens and she hops forward and kisses me hard, wrapping her arms around my neck and pressing the entire length of her body against mine. This doesn’t help my resolve to get us out of my apartment in the next few minutes, but I revel in the moment for a minute as she continues to pepper my neck and face with kisses.
“I love them!” she assures me between pecks. “Thank you so much.” Sliding down the length of my body until her feet are flat on the ground again, she looks coyly over at the other three boxes, biting the outer edge of her lower lip. When she looks at me through the corner of her eye again, I see her question lingering behind that familiar glimmer, and I nod.
“They’re yours.”
Before Amelia gets the chance to throw herself at me for the second time, my phone rings again. And while I realize how ridiculous it might seem, my phone sounds oddly more impatient than the first time.
“You know, I never really pegged you for a shoe addict,” I tease, grabbing our masks from the table before we step out into the hall and lock my door behind us.
Amelia giggles, slipping her hand into mine. “And I never pegged you for a man with a foot fetish,” she throws right back.
We step into the elevator and I pull her close, our linked arms hooked behind her back as I tilt my face down to kiss her. “There are a lot of things I never pegged myself as before now, Amelia,” I whisper against her lips.
She places her free hand on the side of my face, brushing her nose against mine lightly as she struggles to keep from kissing me…okay, so it’s me who’s struggling; she seems to be completely in control. “Are you suggesting I’ve corrupted you?”
“Corrupted?” I repeat, squeezing her hand behind her back and pulling her a little closer. “Mmm, no. I wouldn’t say that.” The elevator doors open with a loud ding, and I kiss her before leading her out. “But if that’s what’s happening, I’m rather enjoying every second of it.” I laugh lightly as I lead her outside into the chilly December air, the smell of a winter rain hanging in the atmosphere.
Our driver sees us approach and is quick to open the back door to the white limo I’d booked for the evening. I allow Amelia to step in first before following her, and it isn’t long before the driver starts the car and pulls away from the curb.