Enemy Mine

Chapter 60

Standing in the soft light of his office, I watched Vincent pour himself a glass of Cognac while Frank Sinatra crooned Jingle Bells in the background. He brought the rim to his nose and closed his eyes, savoring. There was something sexy about a man in a black tux holding a glass of amber liquor strong enough to burn a hole in your hat. One day I'll join him and it won't feel like failure.

"So, I need details on Beth, the board of director who throws festivals," I said as I held up my compact mirror and applied a coat of lip gloss to my heavily-rouged lips. "Hit the highlights. Stuff I can use tonight."

Vincent captured me over the top of his glass, smiling languidly. "She leads the procurement department of Valentino Enterprises. She is married to Samuel Martin, owner of MegaManhattan Magazine. And, she's an excellent chef. Before you ask... Yes, Beth and I saw each other naked prior to her engagement to Sam."

"I see. And did she sign a non-disclosure agreement?"

"Yes. She was instrumental in helping me discover Kinbaku. Beth is a smart, no-bullshit female. I think you'll like her, but if you feel uncomfortable at any time during the party, tell me. We are only committed to an hour." Vincent rose from his Cognac-infused reverie and walked toward me. "This evening is about you and me enjoying each other's company among the company of others. There is finesse involved if you want the evening to end in success. And by 'success' I mean 'sex'. A lot of it."

Sweet.

With Rizzo at the helm of the Escalade, we cruised to the upper east side of Manhattan where Sam and Beth Martin lived in a moderate-sized brownstone. It was said to accommodate thirty people comfortably, but during Christmas, two hundred honored guests and photographers passed through the doors of their home over the course of a weekend.

I never had the privilege of photographing or even attending an event of such local prestige. So, to say I was nervous would be a gross understatement. Twice, Vincent extracted his hand from my clenched fingers and reassured me I was destined to be the hit of the night, but that was my problem right there, and no amount of antacids could cure the anxious burn.

Laughter carried out the front door and down the steps as we arrived, and Vincent's hand was at my back the moment my Louis Vuitton's hit the sidewalk, but we weren't bombarded by a cellphone-wielding mob as I expected. This allowed me to focus on taking the stairs in four inch heels, using Vincent as my back up in case of a fail.

We were greeted at the door by a gorgeous guy wearing a fur-lined bomber jacket and a polished smile. Who cared that his hair had more product in it than mine, and his teeth were cosmetically-enhanced. I would have dropped my panties for him if he asked. Wait. That was the old me. This was the new, committed relationship me, and I smiled back at hunkmiester as I accepted the small gift box he handed me.

"A memento of the evening from the hosts," he said with a friendly wink. He looked like he wanted to say something else, but his attention was quickly snatched away by Vincent's larger than life voice.

"Donny, you still playing this gig?"

Donny's blue eyes sparkled like the waters of the Bahamas as he made the switch from my face to Vincent's. "I look forward to it each year. I get to see every beauty that crosses this threshold. This must be the clever girl who settled your ass down."

"Of course, it is. Reese Kentwell, meet Donny Seven."

Donny shook his head. "Am I ever going to live that down?"

"Not until you hit eight. I take it you don't have a gift for me?"

"Nope. So, I hope you brought your own condom." Donny grinned at Vincent then he turned his megawatt smile on me again. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Reese."