“There. We’re all set to go.” Julie hit the enter button, closed her laptop, put it in the Corvette’s hatchback and off they went.
The building which housed e.Vampire.com was an ultra-modern structure made of steel and glass which reached high into the sky. At the top of the huge etched glass doors was the inscription: Taylor and Van Ness Incorporated.
Apparently Dorian Taylor owned a great deal more than a dating site,
thought Jennifer.
He really is out of my league.
The elevator was roomy and boasted dark paneling, terrazzo flooring and an enormous golden urn overflowing with fresh lilies. T
he smell was intoxicating, the muted lighting perfect.
“Nervous?” asked Julie.
“Not really.” Jennifer surprised not only Julie, but herself as well. For some reason she really wasn’t nervous, nor was she fidgeting with her new dress or her high heels. Then she remembered the two glasses of wine she’d had before Julie came to pick her up. She’d rinsed her mouth with mouthwash so she wouldn’t smell like some lush when they got here. And she’d bound, gagged, and locked Ms. Prudinsky in her bedroom closet.
The elevator doors opened and a well-dressed gentleman greeted them. “Welcome, ladies. My name is Ian Devereux.” He took each of their arms and escorted them to the large room across the corridor. The doors were slightly ajar. Jennifer saw soft light filtering out into the hallway.
“If you’re in need of anything this evening, I’m at your service.” His smile was warm and welcoming.
Jennifer glanced out of the corner of her eye and saw Julie openly staring at the man
, and for the first time since Jennifer had known her she was speechless.
They were ushered into the most luxurious room Jennifer had ever seen in her entire life. The ballroom was huge. In the center of the room was a highly polished hardwood dance floor, trimmed around the edges with soft cream colored carpet. The walls were covered with rich dark wood, mahogany or cherry maybe.
Running along them, at precise intervals were golden sconces, each with a brightly burning white candle. She looked up at the ornate tin ceiling. She’d never seen anything like this place. Only one thing appeared odd to her. There were five doors along the back wall. Each had a gold plaque on it that read “Private.” Something about them seemed menacing.
Waiters and waitresses carried trays laden with food and drinks. Within seconds, she and Julie had a glass of champagne in hand. The room held what Jennifer approximated to be about 50 people. Most had on all sorts of elaborate masks.
“Holy shit,” whispered Julie. “This is Baccarat Crystal.” She held up the glass of champagne and twirled it lightly in her hands, watching it catch the light. “So beautiful,” she murmured. “These guys spare no expense.”
Ian excused himself and left
, promising to return. He was obviously the one in charge here. He was the one giving orders to various men and women, all of whom were extremely good looking.
Exotic, that was
the word that best described them
,
thought Jennifer as she watched them move gracefully across the floor and greet new comers.
Ian came back and steered them toward the wall of masks. He told them to choose one each.
Jennifer was in awe of the Victorian masks with their intricate stitching and embossed designs. She chose a pale silver shimmery one, which held a subtle hint of red. Julie chose a jet black feathery mask.
They put them on and stood on the sidelines with many others, drinking and watching as the music played and couples moved onto the dance floor. The songs were slow and sensual and not too loud. One didn’t have to yell to be heard.
“Are you glad you came?” Julie asked.
“Actually I am.” Jennifer’s eyes scanned the room, noting the beauty of the so called “vampires” who, although light skinned, didn’t look like creatures of the night. Hell, her boss was paler than these people.
“Lots of eye candy here, that’s for sure. I hope that guy Ian asks me to dance. I think he’s hot!”
“Yeah he’s cute,” Jennifer answered offhandedly. She was searching the room for Dorian Taylor.
The doors were now closed and still the man was no-where to be seen. An hour went by. The drinks flowed, the dancers covered the floor, and every now and then, Jennifer saw a couple slip away into one of the private rooms.
Ian came over and asked Julie to dance, leaving Jennifer standing awkwardly by herself amongst a bunch of strangers. She clutched her champagne glass in both hands.
As always, the picture of grace,
she thought, releasing one hand from the glass and holding it like a lady, lifting her pinky finger each time she took a sip. She was now on her fourth drink and starting to feel the effects.
When Ian came back with Julie, Jennifer surprised herself by asking him if Dorian Taylor would be coming tonight.
Ian shook his head. “Not likely. He never comes to these dances . . .”
A hush came over the room. Jennifer heard bits and pieces of whispered conversations.
“Isn’t
that Dorian Taylor?”
“He never comes here.”
“The guys a ghost, he hardly sees anyone outside of business.”
And then, there he was, standing right beside Ian, right in front of her. All eyes in that room seemed to be on him and her. He didn’t seem to notice or care.
“Mr. Taylor! What a nice surprise. This young lady was just asking about you.”
“Oh? Have you now?” Dorian raised his eyebrows in obvious amusement, his lips turned up at one corner in a crooked and utterly charming half-smile.
He was the only one in the room who didn’t have a mask on. His voice was soft, confident and laced with a British accent.
Very sexy, as matter of fact everything about Dorian Taylor exuded sensuality. He’s drop dead gorgeous,
thought Jennifer.
“May I introduce Miss Jennifer Reese? And this is her friend Miss Julie
Anderson,” Ian said.
“It’s nice to meet you both.” Dorian Taylor took each of their hands and shook them lightly.
His hand lingered on Jennifer’s and she felt his fingers move up and down her palm in a soft caress. His eyes were full on her; icy blue and beyond beautiful. They flickered in the light, revealing that hint of cruelty she’d noticed in his profile picture. In person, they were all the more hypnotic, the kind that drew you in and kept you there. Jennifer was completely mesmerized by him.
His black hair was shiny, unruly and yet perfect. The length of it grazed the collar of his shirt. He was tall, around 6 feet she’d guess and impeccably dressed in a black suit, complimented by a tie which matched the color of his eyes to a tee. His finely tailored pants hung low on his hips and fit snug in the crotch. A white linen shirt was neatly tucked into them. At that moment, she envied that shirt
— and those pants.
The song
Lady in Red
came floating down into the room.
“I love this song!” exclaimed Julie, putting her hand on Ian’s shoulder. The two of them went off to dance, leaving Jennifer and Dorian alone. Julie didn’t seem to be worried about Jennifer tonight. She’d given her no unwanted advice and had left her virtually on her own, probably because she was totally into Ian Devereaux.
Jennifer looked down awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot, afraid to meet Dorian’s intense gaze. She just
knew
he was staring at her, perhaps accessing her and maybe finding her lacking. She wasn’t as pretty as most of the women in this room. So, why was he here? And why in hell was he so quiet? He hadn’t said a word since they’d been introduced.
She felt a finger under her chin. His touch was so gentle it surprised her. He titled her face upward, forcing her to look him in the eye. “Would you like to dance?” he asked.
“Um . . . okay. I’m not a very good dancer though.”
“You’ll do fine.” And with that he whisked her out onto the floor. He held one of her hands in his and tenderly closed his fingers around it. When he put his other hand on the small of her back and pulled her to him she thought she’d surely faint.
Her head came up to his shoulder. Cautiously, she leaned against him and put her arm around his neck. She closed her eyes, drinking in the very essence of him. He smelled of fresh linen and soft scented cologne. They moved slowly across the floor.
As the music went on, Jennifer became lost in his arms. She felt the hardness of his chest against her. She dared not breathe for she’d surely tremble under his touch. Her stomach muscles tightened and her sex throbbed. She felt a slippery wetness between her legs. She blushed, as if he knew the effect he was having on her.
She noticed he wore real cuff links. They were silver and elegant and from what she could make out in the dim lighting, they appeared to be engraved in an elaborate script. Most likely they were his initials. He was classy, tall, handsome, a gentleman and had a killer British accent to top it off.
In person, he was even dreamier than his picture. And really, who falls in love with a picture?
You did!
She thought.
Does that make me shallow? Well, I don’t give a damn if it does!
The song came to an end and he
broke away from her. “Thank you for the dance Ms. Reese,” he said. “Have a pleasant evening.” He walked away with an air of grace and confidence she envied and left the room without looking back.
“What the hell?”
Jennifer mumbled in astonishment. The guy left her standing there alone in the middle of the dance floor. Basically, he’d just blown her off. What had she done or not done to cause him to just up and leave like that?
Jennifer felt sweat break out on her forehead. The mask was becoming uncomfortable now. She needed another drink.
A waiter came by carrying a tray of half-filled champagne glasses. She stopped him and took one. “Hang on,” she said and took another. She drank the first one down in a New York minute and put the empty glass back on the tray. “Thank you.” The waiter nodded and walked away.
As she sipped her drink, now feeling semi-drunk, her eyes fixated on those doors marked “private.” She noticed the same thing in all of the couples who exited them. One of them appeared dazed, sleepy and somewhat disheveled. They’d removed their masks at some point while in the room and struggled now to put it back on. The other, the so called vampire seemed totally unaffected.
She laughed to herself at the thought that anyone would believe these people were actually vampires. And yet, did their cheeks seem rosier in color, their skin less pale than before they’d gone into those rooms?
Christ, I really am drunk, wasted actually
, she thought.
Surely her mind was playing tricks on her. There’s no such thing as vampires!
She looked back at the door through which Dorian Taylor had exited, hoping he’d return. He didn’t. Her legs felt like Jell-O. She plopped down onto one of the splendidly soft kid-leather couches. There she sat seething with anger.
Who the hell did he think he was, anyway?
There were so many
other good looking guys in the room. One had just come over and asked her to dance. He was a tall man with dirty blonde hair, very Swedish looking. She said no.
She searched the room for Julie and Ian. She wanted to get the hell out of here before she passed out. She felt like a wallflower sitting there, pining away for a man who was a stranger; a man who’d just rejected her. How humiliating.
What would a guy like that want with a girl like me?
She preferred being angry with Dorian Taylor than this self-pitying emotion which was threatening to overwhelm her.
Julie finally noticed the state she was in and came over with Ian in tow.
“Jesus, Jen. How many drinks did you have?” Julie and Ian both looked concerned.
“Um . . . a few.”
“Where’s Dorian? I thought you were with him or I wouldn’t have left you alone.”
“He
just left me standing there, alone on the dance floor, Julie.” She was slurring her words and felt the heat of tears begin to well up in her eyes.
“Can we please go home? I don’t feel very well.”
“Of course. We’ll leave right now.” Julie and Ian each took one of her arms and led her out.
Finally, they settled her in the passenger seat of the Corvette where she stripped the mask off. She breathed the warm night air, but it didn’t really help. Miami didn’t have the cool
, refreshing air Maine had. It was damp and heavy as usual.
Julie said goodbye to Ian. He leaned over and kissed her lightly, promising to call the next day.
Jennifer must’ve fallen asleep because when she awoke, she was in her own bed. There was a note from Julie letting her know she’d call her later. She groaned, feeling her stomach lurch. She rushed to the bathroom and threw up. After that, she felt a little better and padded out to the living room, picked up her laptop and signed onto the e.Vampire.com site.
She looked again at Mr. Dorian Taylor. Just the sight of him took her breath away. As good as his photograph looked; he was even more handsome in person. She’d been in awe of the confident way he carried himself and that English accent. He was exquisite in every way.
Rude, but
exquisite
, she thought, remembering the way he’d left her standing alone on the dance floor.