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Looking around my home, my pride in Holly’s hard work is huge. Karen has mentioned she’s impressed as well, she also tells me Holly has a nice ass. I give her a look. Karen’s right though, Holly’s ass looks good in her dress. Her inherent beauty is highlighted by the new haircut and light makeup. When she sets down the flowers, I’m drawn to her. My arm goes around her waist, bringing her closer to me.
Owen arrives with Bracco and after a few introductions, makes it to me and I introduce Holly as my hostess. Holly surprises the shit out of me when she greets the man in fluent Italian. I remember her mentioning the time she spent there, the way she loved Italy, and how she’d love to go back.
Bracco is taken with Holly instantly. He clasps her hand in both of his and kisses the back of it several times. As we are supposed to be mingling, it annoys the hell out of me the way Bracco never moves more than five feet away from Holly. Their conversation is constantly peppered with Italian. Finally, we move to the dinner table, and as with most clients, we don’t discuss business over dinner. I seat Holly a few people down from Bracco. She sees the way I’m not very subtle about it. Her hand’s in mine and I hold it until she asks for it back so she can eat.
Dinner goes quickly, with many compliments given to Holly, who would only say thank you. Dessert is a treat; almost everyone consumes more than one serving. The end of the night is definitely a success when Bracco notes how much of a family we all are and how he loves to be a part of it all. Bracco shakes my hand, telling me I’m a very lucky man. When Karen leaves, she says the same thing as Bracco. Owen thanks me, then hugs Holly while thanking her profusely.
Finally, the condo is empty, Holly is too far away, picking up dishes at the table. “Put it back down. You get a gold star for everything you did today. Professionals will come in and clean tomorrow morning, you deserve it. Even if I wasn’t happy with all those smiles and Italian whispering you and Bracco shared.”
Smiling, she walks toward me, her arms go around my waist. “I may have been smiling at him but I was always thinking of you. As for the Italian, it was sharing memories of Genoa peppered with what a wonderful firm you’re a part of, and how intelligent they were to make you a partner so young.”
“Not nearly good enough.” I scoop her up, she laughs as her arms go around me.
“I’m going to need more assurance. I told Karen, that because I saved us from losing a client, I get tomorrow off.”
“All day morning sex in bed sounds good to me. Then we could come out, eat to get our tummies full, nap, and start all over again.”
“I love the way you think.”
****
Maybe it’s the way the partners reacted to her. I’m an asshole enough to admit their envious words of finding her beautiful helps me make my decision. A few days after the party, I call her early and ask her to get ready so I can take her out to dinner. She sounds surprised, yet tells me she’ll be ready on time.
I’m happy to see Holly in a little black shift that clings slightly more than the red dress. There is relief that aside from straightening her hair she keeps her makeup to a minimum, only lipstick and mascara. I stay in the car, allowing Ricky to open the door for her. When she gets in the car, I keep my eyes on her legs, loving the way the dress slides up. “You are looking beautiful. I really want to kiss you, except I know I’ll definitely mess up your lipstick.”
Dinner at Giorgio’s shows me what I’ve been missing. At home, talking revolved mainly about sex and how much we enjoyed the sex we were having. We had covered the basics of favorite books, spots in the city, and music. Now, to listen to Holly’s thoughts, ideas, and hearing her make smart remarks while she actually eats her food is the most enjoyable evening out I’ve had since the last time we went out.
We talk easily about nearly everything, often it’s more me wanting to know everything about her, still. It never seems like we run out of things to talk about. She’s also sincerely curious about my cases, more than a few times recalling things I’ve said in the past with interest of how things turn out.
I enjoy taking her out several times over the next week, until one day I call her to ask her where she wants to go out and she says she isn’t feeling well and wants to stay home. It’s unlike her to complain about anything. I tell her not to cook, I’ll bring home what she wants. At home, she waves off my concern, saying her stomach just wasn’t settled.
After dinner, we cuddle on the couch as we watch a movie. I ignore the mocking voice that wonders when I became someone who cuddles. Fuck it, I don’t care about the mocking voice. Holly in my arms is the only thing that matters.