Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63465 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 317(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63465 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 317(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
He winks at me. ‘Did you ask her to leave a secret opening for me?’
My stomach churns and I struggle to swallow the hot acid rising in my throat. I look at the bar longingly. I need a drink. Tonight is going to be a long night. I bring my gaze back to his leering face and smile apologetically. ‘No, it was not really an option. It’s got a big skirt.’
‘Right. One of those mafia virgin bride jobs, is it?’
My smile drops. This is not the first time that Oliver has made this kind of remark. They are supposed to pass off as jokes, but in actuality, subtly or overtly, let me know my genealogy is less illustrious than his.
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ I say stiffly.
His leer loses some of its shine. ‘Does it have one of those big skirts that I can just flip over your back and fuck that beautiful ass of yours?’
I feel the color drain from my face. ‘It has a big skirt, yes,’ I say quietly.
‘Good. We’re in business then.’
We reach the cloakroom and I check my coat in.
A woman in a tight black dress and an impressive butt comes to stand next to us and Oliver’s eyes openly linger on her buttocks. She turns and looks first at him then at me.
I pretend not to notice. The girl behind the counter gives me my ticket and I turn towards Oliver. He brings his gaze back to me. ‘I’m going away to New York for a week.’
‘When?’ I ask softly.
‘Next Thursday. It’s business. Your father will be there too.’
I knew that my father was going to New York, but I did not know that it was with Oliver. ‘Who else is going?’
‘Just Elizabeth.’
‘I see,’ I say. Elizabeth is Oliver’s secretary and his lover. Elizabeth doesn’t even bother to hide the fact. Twice I have met her, and both times she has made it patently obvious that she is giving him what I am not. I want to look her in the eye and tell her that she is not so special after all, she is not the only one. He has others too.
Once, when we were out at a restaurant, a woman passed our table. She gave him a funny look. Less than a minute later he excused himself to go to the toilet. I waited a few minutes before I followed him and saw them in the corridor leading to the toilets. Her breasts were pressed into his chest and his hand was rubbing her ass. I walked back to the table and never said a word. I understood that it would be the pattern of our lives together. He will always cheat on me. Possibly it cannot even be called cheating because he is so open about it.
Oliver leads me towards the white, minimalist bar. On the way we meet people he knows and he stops to chat, his hand hooked loosely around my waist. ‘Have you met my fiancée, Tasha Evanoff,’ he introduces proudly.
Everybody is polite, but everybody is always polite to your face at these occasions. Behind my back there are always whispers about how my father’s great wealth was acquired. They are more correct than they realize.
When we finally get to the bar I would love to order a shot of Vodka, but I don’t. I do the civilized English thing and get a vodka and soda. Other people come to join us, and it is a relief because it means I don’t have to talk, I can just stand there nodding and flashing a polite smile at appropriate moments.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BT4GIljqr-A
Can’t Take My Eyes Off You
Finally, it is time to go through the double door into the massive, regal dining area. Gorgeous sapphire-blue lights lend a romantic, glamorous hue to everything they touch. The green carpets look sea blue, and the canopy ceiling is full of little light reflections that create the stunning effect of stars glittering in a summer night sky. The tall candelabras on every table hold aloft orangey red cups of light.
Our table is close to the stage and midway between the entrance and the dance area. We take our seats and the Queen caviar is brought to the table on dry ice. I throw back the Vodka and let the salty bubbles explode on my tongue as we listen to the speeches from the patron of the charity thanking the sponsors of the evening.
My father didn’t come, but he is one of them, and since I am his representative, I smile and nod when his name is mentioned and the camera pans on me. After a slideshow depicting the different projects the charity has undertaken to help the disadvantaged children of Russia, it is time for the highlight of the evening.
The curtain draws open and the spotlight falls on Alexander Malenkov, the object of Lina’s unrequited lust. I have never heard him play, but the moment he touches the keys the entire audience falls so silent you could have heard the proverbial pin drop. He plays with great passion and true skill and I must admit I am awed by his performance. When he plays his last note and stands to take a bow, all of us spontaneously give him a standing ovation.