Don't Wake Me if I'm Dreaming (15 page)

“Right?” her tone matched mine.

Every last detail of the house was extraordinary, possibly beyond. The black and white checkered floor shone, reflecting light from a huge scintillating chandelier. A colossal painting of
Automedon with the Horses of Achilles
, maybe eight feet tall hung on the wall next to the twisting stairway banister. A white velvet sofa stood just beneath, and another painting;
Andromeda’s Return
began the long collection of art lining the hall. I marveled, awestruck at the impeccable dwelling that surrounded me.

Guests gathered into the great hall, where they stood mingling and listening to the live entertainment. A pianist with a tailored coat sat at the black Steinway grand piano, his fingers frolicking effortlessly. I would have been content to listen to him play and people watch without ever saying a word. Vance introduced Aimee and me to some of his co-workers when a man moseyed in our direction holding a glass of champagne as if toasting the crowd. He was a hair shorter than me in my three-inch heels, and could have made a perfect spokesman for alopecia hair care commercials for men. As he scrunched his nose to adjust his wire frame glasses, my first thought; he was a dead ringer of George from the TV show Seinfeld.

His squinty little eyes lit up. “Well, well, well…wow! You must be Vance’s friend he was talking about in the office.” He assumed, in a big voice, much larger than expected. He blatantly eyed me up and down resting his sight on me with lascivious wink.

I glanced at Vance, who pressed his glass against his mouth forcing back a smile.

“I’m Sasha.” I strained a smile, offering an extended hand. Now came a second thought;
Please God tell me this isn’t Jason.
Looks aside, his somewhat flippant delivery was unappealing.

“Max Devorski. I work with this handsome stud,” he playfully nudged Vance’s ribs. “I wanted to check out the lovely lady Vance plans to introduce to our friend.”

“Ahhh.” I sighed in relief. “Thanks… for the compliment.”

He leaned into Vance’s side. “I’m next in line if you’re dishing
em
up
lookin’ like this one.” He winked again.

I caught Aimee in my peripheral view, burying her face in Vance’s shoulder. Her breathy laughter was eased by a slight glare.

“Sorry,” she mimed.

Vance’s face slightly lit up too, as if he had read my thoughts. Perhaps my sigh was a bit theatric.

“Well, it is nice meeting you, Max.” I smiled awkwardly.

Max returned the smile oblivious of the cynicism in my reaction. “Well speaking of the devil, here’s your plus one or should I call you his?” My eyes followed as Max’s stubby finger pointed from his glass to the hall.

I noticed a dashing man in a black tuxedo entering the room with a flute in his hand. He was tall, dark-haired, handsome, but there was a sudden feeling of distress that claimed me with his appearance. And in that moment, my pulse ramped, my heart pounded too hard to hear all else. I was motionless, petrified at what my eyes were seeing. My glass slid from my fingers, shattering. Champagne and glass splashed around me. “Jack.” Like a ghost, the air whooshed from my lips. My body numbingly cold with disbelief, it was he, Jack, in the same tuxedo from my dreams, his breathtaking appearance untouched. My heart raced a million beats a minute, pulsating in my ears as he approached. His soft blue-gray eyes held mine captive. His features sharp, his jaw firm, and his lips—I caught my breath.

“Well.” He flashed a disarming smile. “First impressions aren’t always everything now, are they?” he said, with a wink. Reaching into the breast pocket of his tuxedo, he removed a gray pocket square then knelt down at my feet. “May I?” He looked up awaiting approval.

I nodded, unable to speak. I didn’t need to look around to know all eyes were staring at us.

Jack gently wiped the champagne and glass off my stilettos. With a polite wave, he beckoned the young man collecting coats. “Excuse me, my apologies, sir, there’s been a slight mishap. Would you see that my friend finds another glass of champagne?” Jack politely smiled.

The man stood a moment observing the mess, then hurried off.

Jack extended his hand, his eyes beamed; I had never seen anything comparably beautiful.

Skeptically, I accepted it. He helped me step from the glass. “Thanks,” squeaked from my mouth. I was mortified, but that didn’t matter. I was touching him. His flesh, it was real, approximately 98.6 degrees, maybe hotter, much hotter, at least in appearance. I wasn’t dreaming. Jack was a real person, the most attractive real person I had ever seen in all my life, and I was touching him.

Still holding my hand he said, “I’m Jackson, my friends call me Jack.” 

“I… I…” I stumbled, verbally impaired.
God,
kill me now! Breathe Sasha. Breathe!
It took ridiculous effort to gain composure.

“Sasha,” he said, smiling again as he shook my hand. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“Nice… to meet you!” I paused, my jaw trembled, staring at him, and then I unconsciously repeated, “Nice to meet you, it’s nice…I already said that.”

“You did,” he agreed with a breathy laughter.

Words couldn’t express the sweeping wave of humiliation that stung like bathing with jellyfish; I had never experienced so many sensations at once.

Aimee broke the ice with her concerned laughter. “Well, now that you two have met, I’m Aimee, Vance’s wife. He speaks highly of you.” She smiled glancing between us.

“I’m sure it’s all lies.” He shook her hand. “It’s lovely to meet the enthusiastic voice from behind the receiver.”

Aimee blushed. “If you’ll please excuse us, Sasha, and I are going to see what’s keeping the hostess.” She hooked her arm through mine, firmly turning us both with a swift tug, smiling all the while. Her teeth now clenched tightly. “What was that?” she asked, hardly moving her lips.

“What was what?” I asked, too befuddled to decrypt her meaning. 

“Have you lost your
fricken
mind? You looked like you saw a ghost. I thought you were going to pass out.” Her words equally expressed anger and confusion. 

“You said his name was Jason!”

“Jason, Jackson, potato
potato
! Don’t change the subject. You’ve been in such a quandary over dating that you’ve nearly lost your marbles even talking to another man.”

The young man that Jack asked to fetch me another glass hurried by with cleaning supplies, grimacing in disapproval.

“I don’t know. I thought I recognized him,” I clarified with a poor excuse.

“You… you thought you recognized Jack? I don’t buy it!” she scoffed, and turned to face me. Her eyes narrowed at mine, seeking the truth, and then her expression softened. Aimee placed her hand affectionately on my arm. “I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have pressed so hard for this. You tried warning us you weren’t ready, and we didn’t listen. Will you forgive me?” her voice evened as she spoke.

“No, Aimee, it’s fine. I’m all right, I promise. I was just taken by surprise, I guess.”

“He’s beautiful isn’t he?” Her face grew dreamy.

“I don’t think that begins to sum him up. He’s like glorious eye candy.”

“I tried telling you!”

We spotted the lady holding the tray of champagne glasses. I swiftly glided us in her direction. She handed me a glass with a lovely smile. “Back so soon?” she asked.

My finger suggesting she stay put, then chugged the champagne and exchanged it for another glass. “I might just have a serious problem!” I held my hand to my mouth, muffling an airy burp that made my eyes water a little. “Excuse me.”

“Her AA sponsor is MIA,” Aimee remarked. “What’s a girl to do?”

The dumbstruck hostess sighed bitterly with repulse as she strode away.

“Oh, yum that was good!” I breathed, sighing away my distress. “I bet Jack’s impression of me was of pure disgust between my inability to speak, and Gawd how clumsy can one be! He’s probably dashing out the back door as I speak.”

Aimee opened her mouth to speak. “He…”

I shook my head. “No. Don’t agree.”

She smirked, glancing over my shoulder.

“He’s behind me isn’t he?”

Her lips pinched together, holding in her smile.

I turned. “Found her,” I said, holding up my glass as Jack approached us.

“Is everything okay?” he asked.

“Everything is perfect.” Aimee smiled.

“Great. We’re all heading to the dining hall. Would you ladies care to join us for some escargot?”

“Escargot?” I replied, squeamishly, feeling the champagne unsettle in my stomach.             

“Naw, I have no clue what the list of options entail.” He flashed his beautiful white teeth into a perfect smile. “Escargot’s not so bad.”

“Ha!” I smiled bleakly with a repulse. 

We followed Jack into the dining hall.

“He even has a sense of humor,” Aimee muttered as our eyes beamed after him.

Centered in the dining hall was four, long, draped tables squared together, each cuisine with two chefs wearing tall white chef hats and aprons. It was a sumptuous collection of hors d’oeuvres and other fine finger foods, including escargot. Each table was categorized by different nations associated with Morgan International Enterprise.

“Holy, man,” Vance gaped, “I’ll need more hands.” He looked at the small plates.

“Its finger food,” Aimee hushed him, “not a buffet.”

Without an appetite, I held a plate, daringly pointing at the eel rolls, salted cod fritters, then to the caviar cakes. I stepped aside waiting for my party to collect their food.

My gaze curiously and discreetly followed Jack. I was still in a slight state of shock and unable to explain to Aimee why I thought I recognized him, or about how we’d already met in my dreams without her telling me I needed a full frontal lobotomy.

After collecting their plates, the guests headed back into the great hall and continued mingling. I stood, observing the beautiful multitude, occasionally taking a small bite or answering the random questions asked. I noticed Jack’s eyes following me. Not in a creepy way. Almost in a way that suggested he was waiting for an opportunity to converse. An opportunity I was nervous about.

A short man with a heavy mustache collected the plates, and the hostesses made another round of handing out drinks, avoiding me.

Noticing the heavy conversations engaged around us, Jack subtly stepped back from the crowd and extended a hooked arm. “Walk with me?” His modulated tone was nothing less than an angel whispering.

Hesitating only a moment, I glanced back at Aimee, accepting his arm as she nodded approvingly. I half anticipated she would clap with enthusiasm.

Jack led us down the long hallway lined with exquisite art. It was decorated in elegant gold and red holiday décor.

“Are you having a nice time?” Jack asked.

“I am. Thank you. This is a lovely gathering.”

“I think so. I’ve been fortunate to work with them.”

“I’m sure they’re all buzzing, wondering how you ended up with a klutz like me stuck to your arm.”

“I strongly doubt that. You’re a new face in the crowd, a beautiful one at that. Everyone probably thinks I’m lucky.”

“Thank you.” I blushed.

We reached a set of glass French doors. Each windowpane was covered in frost, but I could see the doors led to an open veranda.

“It looks a tad bit frosty out there. Maybe I should grab my coat.” I turned pointing back down the hall.

Jack unbuttoned his tuxedo jacket. “Here, this should do the trick.”

I stepped forward, allowing him to drape it over my shoulders. “Thank you, won’t you be cold?”

“I’ll be fine. Ladies first.” He reached opening the door.

I pressed my nose into the collar, inhaling the scent of a god. “Good Lord,” I exhaled a whisper.

“I’m sorry?” he questioned, noticing my breathy mutter.

I straightened my euphoric expression, pretending I was oblivious of his response. The scent of his fragrance was nothing less than an enticing aphrodisiac.

“Shall we?” He held the door and followed me outside.

I didn’t mind the cold breeze until my teeth began chattering, which I forced together to hide it.

Surrounding us was the spectacular view of twinkle lights carried from the front of the house.

“There must be a million lights out here,” I mentioned, nervously making conversation. We both looked out at the pool that had tall standing pillars on each corner and side.

“Imagine the electric bill,” he said, then noticed the chattering of my teeth. “Still cold are you. Allow me to add warmth to the subject.” He rubbed his hands together, heading to a control panel just outside the doors and turned a dial. Nearby, a large copper sculpture emitted flames. “I’ve been here a few times.” He smiled, walking toward the fire.

“Okay, now that’s just impressive.”

We held our hands near it for warmth. The dim light from the fire glowed beautifully against his face, and I desperately tried to avoid staring between glances.