Sadalsuud - A Collection of #EdSer OneShots

Volume 01

EVERY YEAR, THE ART LIFE AND HOLDING EMPLOYEES, CLIENTS AND THEIR FAMILIES were invited to their employer's home, the Bolat's, for an annual summer party. Mrs Bolat was famous for throwing extravagant parties, but her summer parties were legendary. Servers bearing trays of an unlimited supply of hors d'oeuvres curated by celebrated chefs. Live musicians playing instruments for eager dancers. Water fountains and a crystal clear pool waiting for those who loved to frolic in their swimsuits.

And there was an unlimited supply of alcohol.

Alcohol was infused into almost every available refreshment. No person was safe. And, this year, they expected nothing different.

But this year was different.

This year, the party included the Bolat's new daughter-in-law-to-be. And, rumour had it that even Mr Serkan Bolat ---who rarely attended such parties, despite it being at his home---would accompany his bride. Those who had been privileged enough to have met the elusive Miss Eda Hanim declared that not only was his bride an exquisite beauty, but also had an incredibly fiery personality. It was told that she insulted a guest who dared to ask about their hasty engagement and question her family's social standing. Of course, this only added grist to the rumour mill and Aydan Bolat despaired that the guests had come more to scrutinize the new pair than to praise her party arrangements.

SERKAN WAS SEATED by the kitchen with his laptop. His eyes were directed on the monitor, but his thoughts were following the clicking sound of his fake-fiancé's stilettos as she moved inside his room---'their room'---getting ready for the party. The heels finally quieted. But only to be replaced by the jingle of a bag with plastic sounding products. She appeared not moments later with a question in hand.

"Which lipstick?" Eda chirped at him.

Lipstick. His mind immediately went back to the fateful day they met, when she keyed his car and the proceeded to write on it with her lipstick. He looked up without turning his head. She was standing by the sliding door. She cocked her hip against the doorframe, and his eyes were drawn to the dazzling anklet and strappy pair of heels she wore. The gossamer-thin black silk dress accentuated her porcelain skin. His eyes traced her form. She took a small step back, away from him, and the dress shimmered with the movement. The flesh of her thigh behind the slit of the dress shimmered too. Serkan stood and cleared his throat, aware that he felt the need to swallow.

His feet felt like lead as he walked closer to her to assess the colours she had selected.

A nude and a red.

He bit the inside of his cheek as he pointed to the nude. He wasn't quite sure if he was ready to see her in this dress and have her lips painted in red.

He watched, shamelessly, as she used the mirror in the hallway to effortlessly apply the colour to her lips. Not that she needed it. He found that she had a naturally pink pout anyway. As if she was conscious of his scrutiny, she lifted her head and glanced towards him.

"That's uh --- quite a dress," he stated.

She looked down in a self-assessing manner, "It's Ceren's. It's a bit much, right? Maybe I should change into--"

"NO!" Eda flinched in surprise to his passionate reaction. "It's perfect, you're perfect."

The disbelief on Eda's face grew as her eyebrows rose higher on her forehead.

"What I mean is," Serkan sniffed, "you look perfect---good---great! Shall we go? Yes, I think we should go. Let's go. The guests have probably arrived."

Eda's lips twitched as she valiantly fought to keep the smirk off her face but her eyes shone with an impish delight that could not be snuffed.

With a clenched jaw, he indicated that she should precede him.