Just a Number(76)

“Owen!” a voice booms behind us, and we wheel around to find Elliot McGrath, my business partner and friend, and his beautiful wife, Alexis, approaching. They’re both wearing basic gold masks to cover their faces, but there’s no mistaking either one of them. Elliot, for one, is extremely tall and broad-shouldered, while his wife is supermodel-esque with long blonde hair that flows down her back in waves.

Both of them glance to my left to see Amelia before looking to one another and sharing a quick look. My separation from Gretchen isn’t news to them, and Elliot knew I would be bringing someone tonight based on how many tickets I had acquired, but I could see the two of them trying to figure out who she might be.

“Hi,” Amelia says, breaking the brief silence and holding out her hand.

Elliot is the first to grab it, and he smiles. “Hello. I’m Elliot, and this is my wife, Alexis. It’s a pleasure to meet you…?” He trails off, leaving his greeting open for her introduction.

Instead of giving into his silent inquiry, Amelia arches an eyebrow and smiles. “Isn’t the point of a party like this for everyone to remain anonymous?” she teases.

Elliot’s laugh booms, gaining the attention of a few surrounding party-goers, and he continues to ask her question after question in hopes of learning her true identity. Elliot and Alexis have both met Alan on several occasions when he's been in the city visiting and has joined us for a few drinks. They know of Amelia, but have yet to meet her.

Naturally, Amelia does an extraordinary job of dodging Elliot's questions, giving him answers that aren't untrue, but just omit a few key details that might lead them to conclude who she is to me. This seems to be a talent of hers, as I’ve come to realize during the course of our relationship so far.

“A,” she supplies, glancing up at me with a nervous twinkle in her eye. I place my hand on her back in hopes of assuring her that I’ve got her back on this, and she continues. “My friends all call me A.”

“Friends,” Alexis pipes up, looking between the two of us and deducing our relationship. “Is that how you know each other?”

“Oh, sort of, I guess,” Amelia replies with a smirk as my thumb strokes the skin of her back above her dress. “We, uh…we go way back. Old friends, definitely.”

Seeming satiated by her introduction, they drop their interrogation, instead letting the conversation shift to Amelia complimenting Alexis’s dress and vice versa. While I'm certain we could introduce her properly to them without Alan finding out in just a few short days, I think Amelia's still a little nervous that somehow it'll get back to him. I understand her need to tell him first—I want that too—so I go along with her wishes, even if it means tonight we'd be playing an interesting game of avoidance with my colleagues.

"If you'll excuse us," I say, interrupting their conversation before Elliot can ask another question Amelia will have to dodge. Yes, she's really good at it, but I can sense it still makes her slightly uncomfortable.

Placing my hand on the small of her back, I lead Amelia toward the bar to get another drink. She orders a Grey Goose and cranberry juice while I request a glass of scotch. "I think you handled that very well," I tell her.

She giggles before taking a small drink. "He's quite curious, isn't he?"

I laugh in response. "He can be," I inform her, tipping the bartender. "Can you blame him, though? He hasn't stopped asking me questions about what's happened to make me so happy in the past few weeks. Naturally, he suspected I'd met someone, and when I failed to confirm or deny anything, he took my silence as all the confirmation he needed. And now that he's seen me with a beautiful woman on my arm," I continue, placing my hand on her hip and pulling her toward me, "well, I think it's piqued his curiosity to its limit."

"I suppose I can't fault him for that." She looks around the room again and smiles. "This really is amazing. It's like something right out of a fairytale."

Feeling particularly corny, I finish my drink and set my glass and Amelia’s on the bar top before taking her hand and pulling her toward the dance floor. "Then I think it’s my duty, as the handsome prince in this particular fairytale, to sweep you off your feet on the dance floor."

Amelia giggles as I spin her out onto the floor before we begin to sway a little more rhythmically to the live classical music filling the room. She moves gracefully, and I hold her body close to mine, my right hand resting happily on the small of her back, directly above the swell of her perfect ass. Every breath she takes has her breasts brushing against my chest, and I find myself shamelessly glancing down at them, loving how her dress fits so snug that it pushes them up and in. I want to touch them so fucking badly.