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Logan stood and debated aftershaves as the minutes ticked by, despite the fact that he could hear the party was already in full swing downstairs. What would Indiana Jones smell like? Old leather and sweat probably. But Logan wanted something a bit less humming than that. He’d been given a box set of designer miniatures for Christmas and now had seven different splash-ons to choose from as well as his usual favourite.
He unscrewed the first one again. No, too fresh. Maybe... no, too cloying. He wanted musky, but slightly spicy too, something that said exotic locations and promised adventure. Was that too much to ask of an aftershave?
He picked up the last one, which he’d initially dismissed for being too sensual. Fahrenheit. It was distinctive, not quite everyone’s taste. But he had a feeling it might tantalise Wendy and it did suit the outfit.
He questioned his motives yet again. Why did he want Wendy to see him in a new way? He didn’t want to date her, heaven forbid no, but he did want to sweeten her up a bit. Get her to stop treating him like a cross to bear, and maybe try a little harder. Did he really think that dressing up as the type of man she was clearly “secretly” attracted to would achieve that? It just might. He shrugged. The outfit hadn’t been hard. He’d had desert boots, khaki combat trousers and a beige shirt already in his luggage. It has been simple to order a satchel, bullwhip and the trademark hat. The only real expense had been the aged brown leather jacket, but he was kind of sold on that one anyway. It was totally cool and he was sure he’d be wearing it for years to come regardless.
He made the decision and grabbed the small bottle. It wasn’t that important anyway. He just wanted to mess with her a bit, nothing more than that. It was revenge for always acting like he was so unattractive; he didn’t like that. And anyway, it would probably have no effect on Wendy at all. Chances were that she wouldn’t even get that he was parodying her crush. Or even think for a second that it had anything to do with her. What did it matter? It was a great costume, nothing more. Well, unless it did happen to get a response, which would be a bonus.
He fastened the whip to his waist and headed downstairs. By the front door he saw his mother and Daniel, dressed as Cleopatra and Marc Anthony, as they greeted guests. He strolled over, but only to take a glass of champagne from the pretty waitress who held a tray ready for new arrivals. He thanked her and she rewarded him with a flirty smile.
He sneaked another look at her over his shoulder as he moved away. Now, that one held promise. She was much more his type than the loud egocentrics all around him. He winced as false laughter rang out next to him. Too many people all talking non-stop about themselves. It just wasn’t his scene at all.
Logan knew that he came across as supremely self-confident and relaxed, but he wasn’t, he never had been. It was a skill he had been forced to learn early in life, surrounded by all the glitterati jackals. Never betray weakness or they’d eat you for breakfast. Hide in plain sight, otherwise they’d seek you out. In other words, act like you belonged and no one would dig any deeper. He wondered how on earth Wendy coped with it; it just wasn’t in her nature to “fit in” with the pack.
He scanned the room for her, but couldn’t see her anywhere. Maybe she’d decided not to bother?
He entered the large dining room, where a buffet table overflowed with miniature snacks and giant candelabras. It was packed with people, but he liked the dim lighting and soft music. Everyone looked better in candlelight, himself included. He nibbled a caviar blini and looked for any familiar faces.
He groaned as a battleship in full sail bore down on him. One of his mother’s friends.
“Logan, darling! You’ve grown so much, you’re a young man now.” She proffered her cheeks for air-kisses, and continued to talk at him in her braying thespian voice.
“Quite the stud, I see.” She glanced at his oiled chest where he’d left his top buttons undone. “But you have dirt on your cheek.” She actually licked her thumb to wipe it away and Logan pulled back in horror.
“It’s meant to be there, it’s part of the costume.” Why did he have to put up with being groped by this matriarch? Maybe he should bail out of the party too. Or find that waitress – she could grope him if she wanted.
He spotted another pretty girl, dressed in a 1920s flapper dress, and admired her delicate neck and understated jewellery. In a room full of bling she looked pure class. He ducked around the fat matron and headed her way. He circled around her to get a proper look at her face, then started choking.
Wendy?
Weird Wendy?
No way! Crumbs, she looked good. Her hair was braided in a circlet around her head, the pink blended into the black like a ribbon, her swan-like neck was bare apart from a single long string of pearls that were knotted at her throat, and the flapper dress was perfect for her slim figure. A row of seed pearls at the hem swung enticingly just above the knee, and he followed her legs down to the cutest pair of black heels with pearl buttons.
He didn’t know what to be more surprised by, that Wendy scrubbed up so amazingly or that she even owned a pair of high heels.
He’d been convinced she was going to come as a biker, or a vampire, or some kind of catwoman dominatrix, and now he was totally bowled over by her.
Aw hell, that wasn’t how he thought this would play out. She was supposed to be smitten by his costume, not the other way around!
He was intending to back quietly away and compose his feelings, when she spotted him and her eyes widened. He could see her scanning him from head to toe, just as he had done to her only seconds before. He waited for the usual scornful look to reappear on her face, but it didn’t. Instead they simply stood there staring at each other.
The moment stretched out and then Daniel’s voice carried over the crowd, “Wendy, honey? Are you in here? Cranlow has just arrived.”
Wendy gave a frowning glance toward the front hall, then grabbed Logan by the hand, dragging him through the kitchen and out the back door.
“Where...?” Logan said, not resisting as she pulled him past all the outdoor lights and into a darker area.
“Shut up.” Wendy checked over her shoulder that no one could see them and then came to a stop.
They stood in the shadow of the garden wall, lit only by one of the warm gas heaters dotted all along the patio.
“Is this outfit for my benefit?” She gestured to his clothes.
“Yes, but...” Logan didn’t get any further before Wendy clapped a hand over his lips.
“Don’t speak, you’ll ruin it.” She shoved him against the wall, and before he could draw a breath she removed her hand and replaced it with her mouth.