24. Audrey
Once our bellies were full, the stage was empty again, giving George a chance to catch up on the meals he missed. Music continued to play, this time from the sound system, giving the string quartet a chance for a short break as well. While the music was modern and pleasant, it reminded me of a high school dance. I thought back to all of the times I avoided attending one when I was younger, because I didn’t want to worry about how I was perceived. If I wasn’t overly enthusiastic, I’d worry people would think I was some kind of snob who wasn’t having fun. Then God forbid if I actually did enjoy myself, a rumour would start about me being obsessed with whoever I spoke to for longer than three seconds. Even before I moved to the Australian coastline, both my parents lived in small suburbs themselves, where people would know—or think they knew—too much about everyone. You never had a moment of freedom to actually enjoy any experience for what it was without a whisper manifesting over it. It wasn’t like that here, even though everyone actually did know Theo, thanks to his family’s legacy. But even if tonight was filled with local gossip, I guess I wasn’t embarrassed to be the one clinging to Theo this evening. He made it so easy to feel included, and like I wasn’t an outsider anymore. “May I have this dance?” Theo asked, gesturing to the room around us—to all of its music and the lights that dimmed ever so perfectly, and suddenly, I realised I’ve been waiting for him to ask me those words all evening.
“Definitely.” I took his hand and he led me out to the back of the hall, where the tables were spread far enough apart from each other to become a dance floor. Couples were already gathering together, or parent and child combos like Mary and Finley, who tried their hardest to make sure they both enjoyed the evening… one that likely cost them a fortune to attend. It was strange, seeing people well above my league here, but knowing that without help from our dream team—Ava, George, Theo, and myself—it might not have turned out as well as it did. It made me realise I was good at helping to manage an event like this, not just the marketing side of things. Feeling full of pride, I hoped any rush of colour to my cheeks matched the rouge Lucy put on me when dolling up my face.
We swayed together, enjoying the song being slower paced with a more intimate feeling. Then, I was reminded of what Theo said earlier. A sly smirk spread across my mouth, finally ready to explore the idea. “So, I’m your partner now, am I?”
He chuckled, pulling me in tighter by the waist. “Well, I certainly wasn’t going to call you my co-worker. Not after Paris.” He paused, before he dipped me low, right on time with the music. “Was that okay?”
When I rose up to face him again, I pecked his cheek in the process, leaving a slight tinge of peach lipstick on his skin—one I quickly rubbed off with my thumb. “It was more than okay,” I reassured him. After Paris, it was clear that I was the only one being standoffish since we reunited. And though I had an initial cause for caution, I wanted to be all in on this. The lights created the perfect ambiance; the music was all consuming, guiding our hips together as we swayed to the beat; I knew I needed to tell him my feelings, too.
“Theo?”
“Yeah?” he hummed in my ear. Even without speaking loudly, I couldn’t stop admiring how manly his voice had become, much more than it was when we’d first met.
Without hesitating a second more, I looked him in the eyes. “I’m in love with you.” After hearing those simple words, his hold tightened around the small of my back, and his breath hitched like he was about to choke. Then, there was that dazzling smile of his, where his white teeth almost seemed fluorescent in the dim light.
“Thank you for telling me,” he said, holding me in for a deeper embrace. This time, his movement didn’t match the music. It was jarring, in an almost charming way, as if he needed to display affection in that moment, without caring what anyone else thought. And if we weren’t here, where we were trying to keep a professional tone, I would’ve kissed him, just like we kissed in Paris. I imagined him somehow holding me closer, even though my body was feeling held tight already. And now, even with all the time we spent planning this event, I wanted to be far away from it, where we could be alone together.
“What are your thoughts on leaving early?” he whispered against my neck. The simple action sent shivers down my spine; we were on the same page. Besides, even though we were in charge of this gala, our jobs were done. It was a hit, the journalists were already clearing out to write their articles, and some of the guests had filtered out to collect their coats and leave. If we ducked out, it wouldn’t even matter.
I let my fingers comb through his hair, dishevelling his most perfect look. “Let’s go.”
When we hailed a cab, we were silent, knowing exactly what we were getting ourselves into, and the ride to his home was even quieter. We stole quick glances at each other under the city lights, before peeping back out the window again. It was like experiencing a crush for the first time, not wanting the other person to know too much. But we’d already shared everything in our hearts, and now it was time we returned to where we left off five years ago.
The taxi dropped us off at his townhouse, and I focused on the curb, trying not to stumble in my heels along the pavement’s deep grooves while he unlocked the front door. I looked in his eyes, then he looked in mine, and I followed him inside. It was different to what I expected, maybe cleaner and more put together. And the way he moved upstairs without a word, beckoning me to come along… it felt enchanting, and perhaps a little bit risky. My heart raced but I didn’t have a single doubt, especially when he finally stopped—turning around with a lustful look in his eyes, his breath slow and calculated. “We’re here,” he mumbled, waiting for me to approach him.
“We’re here,” I repeated, closing the distance. His room had a minimalist design to it, but it was homey. Still, the only minimalism I could think about was ridding the shirt off his back. And once my shoes bumped into his, where we were standing right in front of each other, my arms reached out on their own accord. He bit his lip while I loosened his tie, and he clenched his jaw in a way that made me long to have him undress me. Once the weight of his tie fell to the floor, I made work on his white button up, trailing down lower and lower until his abdomen was in full view. His shape was perfect, and his skin was soft and delicate, just like his tender touch. And as if my slowness tortured him, he lunged forward with a kiss, holding me close, then drifting one of his hands up behind me to reach the zipper of my dress. “You’re sure this is okay?” he asked, before he dared to unravel it. A formality I clearly missed.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything,” I whispered, letting my fingers brush the bare skin underneath his shirt. He loosened the zip slightly with one hand, before his other made its way closer to my chest, mimicking the movements I made on him. Until his hand cupped my breast, a finger gliding softly over me, causing me to gasp. The sound brought his focus back to me, his expression showing how much he wanted this. And for the first time since Paris, I didn’t worry about what was going to happen in the future… I was completely present, ready to make love with the man of my dreams.