Chapter Seventeen

 

Late June

 

“I’ve lived in the Bay Area all of my life, except for the few years I was away at college, and never knew this place existed until tonight. Is this supposed to be some secret, hidden club or something? Like you need to have the password in order to gain entry?”

Finn laughed at Delilah’s half-joking question. “You probably aren’t too far off with your assessment of this place, actually. From what Jordan has told us about this club, it’s existence is pretty much kept a closely guarded secret, and the members here go out of their way to maintain a low profile. Basically, the only way to gain membership these days is to inherit your way in when a family member dies. That’s how Jordan got accepted. His maternal grandfather was a member for most of his life, and when he passed away the club membership went to Jordan since he was the only grandchild.”

Delilah looked around the grand, high-ceilinged room with its polished wood floors, paneled walls, and majestic chandeliers. The room, and the rest of the club she’d seen thus far, practically oozed old money, high society, and echoes of an era of wealth and privilege that were rarely on display nowadays. At the same time, however, the furnishings and décor were discreetly understated, as though anything more overt or flamboyant would have been considered in bad taste.

Even though Jordan had proposed to Aubrey nearly three months ago, tonight was the first date the club had been available for a private party, and also when most of their family and friends would be free to attend. And from the looks of things thus far, Jordan hadn’t spared any expense in hosting this engagement party. The booze was top shelf, all premium brands, and there were three bartenders hard at work behind the expansive bar with its gleaming hardwood countertop and mirrored glass shelves. The appetizers being passed around by the neatly uniformed staff were all of the very best quality as well - huge jumbo shrimp, smoked salmon and crème fraiche on toast points, baby lamb chops, ultra-thin asparagus spears wrapped in delicate prosciutto. A sit-down dinner in the adjoining dining room would follow after the cocktail hour, and a jazz quartet would be playing dance music after the meal had been served.

She had adored this place on sight - this splendid example of old San Francisco society, a throwback to a time when men and women both dressed up every time they left the house, whether it was to go out to a fancy dinner or simply to the movies. And while she’d almost literally counted the minutes until the party sponsored by the vodka brand had ended earlier this month, Delilah planned to fully enjoy every single moment of tonight’s celebration.

“I take it that this sort of party is way more your thing than the one we attended in L.A.?” inquired Finn, almost as though he’d just read her mind.

Delilah’s mouth quirked up at the corners as she took a sip of her champagne cocktail. “Kind of like night and day comparing the two events, don’t you think?” she commented. “I mean, the other party wasn’t out of hand or anything, no one was dancing on tabletops or getting too wild. But there was definitely much more of a party atmosphere going on there, people were drinking a lot more, and wearing a lot less. For example, I doubt if that skank who confronted me in the bathroom would have even been allowed in here this evening, given that she looked like a high-priced hooker.”

Finn slipped an arm around her waist, giving her a little squeeze. “I already told you that I never dated Nita, much less banged her,” he whispered defensively. “Until you described her to me, I wasn’t even sure I had her name right. And Trace and Braden assured me three times that she’s permanently off their guest list for future events. Nobody’s going to be allowed to say that kind of stuff to you, Delilah. I won’t have bitches like her upsetting you. Okay?”

She leaned her head against his shoulder, smiling up at him gratefully. “Okay. And, honestly, that wasn’t why I brought her up. It was merely to make the point that this is a much more sophisticated event. Classier. Much more my speed. Not to mention a smaller crowd.”

Aubrey and Jordan had both been intent on keeping tonight’s party on the small side, inviting just immediate family, their closest friends, and his partners from the medical practice. Delilah estimated that there were perhaps fifty or so people here this evening, compared to the two hundred plus who had been in attendance at the big, noisy event in L.A. She was much more at ease in these sort of surroundings, and with a modest sized group. And she had no concerns whatsoever that Finn would turn into his party boy alter-ego at any point during the evening. The guests of honor would probably never speak to him again if he got out of control, plus the chances were high that the stern looking club manager would have Finn physically removed from the premises if he got out of hand.

Not, of course, that she had any real reason to expect him to behave badly. Since the incident earlier this month - what had amounted to their first semi-serious argument - Finn had been on his best behavior. He’d been even more attentive to her, bringing her flowers and those out-of-this world croissants she had become addicted to, and making sure she didn’t wear herself out. Work had been more demanding than ever this past month, and was about to become even more so, given that she had just signed the contract with Bloomingdale’s this past week. To celebrate, Finn had taken her out to a fabulous dinner at Gary Danko, and then to see a performance of Hamilton at the theater. That had been after he’d treated the entire office to a lavish catered lunch, complete with champagne.

No, Finn hadn’t misbehaved even a tiny bit - unless, of course, one counted the bedroom, where he continued to be as naughty and adventuresome as ever. But Delilah also knew that the start of football season was inching ever closer, which meant he would have to make weekly trips down to the network studios in L.A. to tape his pre-game show. There would also be travel involved to several games over the course of the season, as well as a number of parties and other promotional events he would be expected to attend. And those were precisely the sort of occasions she was most worried about, especially since it was highly unlikely she’d be able to accompany him to very many of them.

He had already pleaded with her to attend some big party in Las Vegas in a month’s time, an event intended to kickoff the official start of the season. His bosses and co-workers at the network would be there, of course, as well as a lot of football players, coaches, and celebrities. And he had sounded so excited about the prospect of introducing her to all of those people that Delilah hadn’t had the heart to tell him that a party of that size and magnitude sounded like her own personal hell. Besides, she had reasoned to herself, it was extremely doubtful she’d be able to get away, even for a quick weekend trip, considering all of the work she was going to be faced with to prepare for the Bloomingdale’s deal. She hadn’t quite broken the news to Finn as yet, knowing he’d be upset and do his damndest to convince her otherwise. And things were so good between them right now, so fun and easy and enjoyable, that the last thing she wanted to do was make waves in their still-evolving relationship.

A relationship that she wasn’t quite sure how to define, if she was being honest with herself. She and Finn always introduced the other as their boyfriend or girlfriend, and they saw each other on an almost daily basis, given the fact that they lived across the hall from each other. They weren’t living together, not technically at least, but that was largely due to each of them owning their own residence. Mostly, they went back and forth between their two units, usually hers during the week so that she could have quick access to her home office if creative inspiration struck at some odd hour, and then his place on the weekends.

They had met the other’s closest friends, though admittedly Delilah didn’t have a whole lot of friends who lived in San Francisco. Friends from college were scattered all over the world, and she’d lost touch with most of her high school class. Finn, on the other hand, seemed to have friends on just about every block in the city, whether it was someone he knew from Stanford or his gym or just a guy he’d met at a bar four years earlier.

They had gone out to dinner or brunch a few times with Desiree, and even been on the sidelines cheering her on during one of her triathlons. Finn had taken a real interest in the sport, quizzing Desiree about her training regime, and musing about the possibility of completing a tri himself one of these days. Desiree had seemed flattered by his attention, and was warming to him more and more - at least as much as her sister warmed up to anyone.

And while she had yet to meet Finn’s parents face to face, she’d been introduced to them via Facetime, and was now friends with his mom on Facebook. Jerry McManus, she’d been told, barely knew how to send a text message, much less navigate social media, so it was largely left up to his wife Susan to handle such things on his behalf.

Susan was eager to meet Delilah face to face, and she and Jerry were hoping to fly out to San Francisco in late August for a visit. Susan had confided to Delilah during one of their Facebook chats that she’d feared her oldest child would never settle down, and was destined to spend the rest of his life unattached and alone. And while Mrs. McManus seemed far too polite to outright ask Delilah what the real status of her relationship with Finn was, Delilah knew the older woman was practically itching to know the answer.

An answer, thought Delilah with a sigh, that she wouldn’t be able to provide. Right now she was as much in the dark as anyone about where her relationship with Finn might be headed in the coming months. He seemed perfectly content with the status quo, had never once mentioned the long term future, and she hadn’t dared to even utter the word “marriage” in his presence.

Not, of course, that she had any desire to get married herself in the foreseeable future. Not when she already felt married to her job to a degree, a job that was only going to get busier and more demanding as time progressed. And while Finn was continuing to prove her initial impression of him as a morally corrupt playboy wrong, she was still far from convinced that he was husband material. Or, on the flip side, that she was really capable of making someone a good wife. The utter wreck of her parents’ marriage had tainted all of that for her, had made her cynical and suspicious, and trust didn’t come easy for her, no matter who that person was.

But she wasn’t going to think about any of that tonight, she determined, finishing up her drink and then snatching up a sundried tomato polenta square from a passing waiter’s tray.

“You want a refill on that?” asked Finn, taking her empty glass and setting it on a side table.

“Maybe in a minute. I’m good right now. Though you have my permission to smack me on the hand if I dare to take even one more appetizer. Everything is so good, though,” she groaned.

He smiled at her indulgently, brushing his knuckles against her cheek. “You know I’m never going to tell you not to eat something,” he chided. “Especially since you’ve been burning the candle at both ends lately. Calvin tells me that you barely touch the lunches I bring you or have sent over, that you give him the leftovers and threaten him with dire consequences if he blabs to me.”

Delilah scowled darkly. “Threats that he apparently didn’t take very seriously, since it sounds like the little tattletale has been hard at work. As you can tell, I’m hardly wasting away before your eyes, Finn, so a few skipped meals here and there aren’t going to make much of a difference. Besides, I think I ate a whole week’s worth of calories just in the last hour. And as tight as this dress is, I don’t want to tempt fate.”

She was wearing one of her newer designs, something she’d drawn up with summer in mind, though still sophisticated enough to wear to a place like Jordan’s private club. She’d fretted over wearing it this evening, though, since the bottom half of the dress was white, and the last thing she wanted to do was try and upstage Aubrey. But Calvin had snarkily reminded her, “Hey, it’s an engagement party, Boss Lady, not the wedding. The bride-to-be isn’t likely to be wearing white, you know.”

That realization, plus the fact that the top half of the dress was black, had convinced Delilah it would be perfectly fine to wear it this evening, and she hadn’t regretted her decision. The black top had tiny spaghetti straps, and a modest décolletage, with a row of black jet buttons running from the top of the sweetheart neckline down to the waist. From there the dress’s white skirt was close fitting, the narrow hem ending an inch or two above the knee. She’d worn black patent stiletto pumps, and had chosen diamond jewelry - three carat stud earrings, a dainty heart shaped pendant suspended from a platinum chain, and a tennis bracelet. Unlike the bulk of her fine jewelry, however, she had purchased all three of these pieces herself, rather than delving into her mother’s collection.

She had toned down her makeup a bit, going for a sophisticated feel rather than a dramatic or the all-out femme fatale image she often favored. Instead of her usual red lipstick, she’d chosen a soft coral shade that she liked to wear in the summer.

Finn smacked his lips as he looked her over, as though she was the tastiest thing he’d seen all night. “Mmm, mmm. Speaking of tempting - you look like sin in that dress, babe. In fact, you’re so damned gorgeous and sexy nobody’s even paying attention to Aubrey.”

“Hardly,” scoffed Delilah. “Aubrey looks sensational, and you know it. And when her sister’s standing next to her, everyone in the room stares at them. It’s sort of spooky how much they resemble each other, given that they aren’t twins or even full sisters.”

Finn nodded, guiding her in the direction of the bar. “Even more so when you consider they didn’t even know the other existed until a year or so ago. They seem so close now you’d think they grew up together.”

While Finn ordered their drinks, Delilah glanced over at Aubrey and her half-sister Tessa. Aside from the fact that Tessa was a few years older, and Aubrey a couple of inches taller, the two women could have certainly been mistaken for twins. There were a few other subtle differences, of course. Tessa’s figure was a bit fuller, as was to be expected for a mother of two very young children, her complexion a couple of shades lighter. Her blonde hair was cut to just below shoulder length, while Aubrey’s was a few inches longer. Their taste in clothes was very similar, though Aubrey had admitted she happily relied on her sister for fashion advice since she was far from an expert on the subject.

Tonight the glowing bride-to-be was wearing yellow, a color Delilah knew to be her favorite, and her sharp eye recognized the designer as Alexander McQueen. The silky chiffon dress had a deep V-neckline, the fabric falling in soft, gathered layers to just above the knee. Aubrey’s high-heeled sparkly gold sandals coordinated nicely with the silky satin belt fastened around her small waist. She was wearing more makeup than Delilah had ever seen her use, probably due to her sister’s influence.

Delilah had glimpsed a few photos of Tessa Gregson - along with her strikingly handsome husband Ian and their two adorable children - at Aubrey and Jordan’s apartment, but this was the first time she’d ever seen her in the flesh. Tessa was quieter, more subdued than her perky, outgoing sister, and there was a gentleness about her that bordered on fragility. But there was nothing fragile about the way she looked tonight - impeccably garbed in a corset-styled dress of a cream and light blue floral print. The horribly expensive dress - Dolce and Gabbana if she wasn’t mistaken - was both classy and sexy, much like the woman who wore it.

“Have you met Aubrey’s sister yet?” Delilah asked Finn as he handed her another champagne cocktail.

“Tessa? Sure, a few times. Uh, actually, I knew her before Jordan ever met Aubrey. I guess you haven’t heard that story yet, come to think of it. We’re sort of careful not to bring it up, actually. Everything is cool now, of course, but for awhile last year Aubrey was good and pissed off at Jordan because he - well, let me start at the beginning.”

Delilah was a little incredulous as Finn related how Jordan had developed quite the crush on Tessa Gregson, who was not only the wife of a good friend but one of his OB/GYN patients as well. Jordan had never even considered making a move on a happily married woman, but his attraction to Tessa had probably been the worst kept secret in the city. And when he’d met Aubrey while vacationing in Maui, it had been impossible for him not to instantly notice her startling reaction to the other woman.

But while his initial attraction to Aubrey had been because of her looks, he had almost immediately realized that so far as personalities were concerned, she was very different from the shy, reserved Tessa. And it had ultimately been Aubrey’s sunny, fun loving attitude that had captured Jordan’s heart. The fact that he had unwisely delayed telling Aubrey about Tessa, and the fact that she could be her twin, had blown up in Jordan’s face, angering not just Aubrey but also Tessa and her husband Ian in the process.

“Fortunately for Jordan, Tessa was the most forgiving of the three, and it was when she reached out to Aubrey that they discovered they were half-sisters. The rest of it is sort of a complicated story, so I’ll let Aubrey tell you one of these days.”

“Wow.” Delilah shook her head in disbelief. “It’s like fate or karma or something, you know?”

The signal was given then for everyone to take their assigned seats for dinner. Delilah already knew that she and Finn would be sitting with Max and his date, along with two other couples she wasn’t acquainted with. And the announcement that Max was actually bringing someone with him to the party had been met with stunned disbelief by those in their little circle. It was definitely the first time since Delilah had met the reserved Brit that he had invited a date along, and if Finn and Jordan could be believed also the first time in a few years.

She’d asked Finn, of course, what had happened to turn Max off of the dating scene, and why he always looked both sad and even haunted. The speculation was that he’d met a woman on a business trip he had taken to Seattle several years ago and had his heart broken in some way, because things had never been quite right with him since then.

But Delilah and Finn’s relief at seeing Max here this evening with a woman by his side was short-lived, since his date proved to be about as friendly as a marble statue. She was almost icily polite, her responses to the questions directed towards her short and clipped, and it didn’t take more than a few minutes for Delilah to wonder what the hell Max had been thinking of bringing such an unfriendly, unsociable person to what was supposed to be a fun, joyous celebration. The woman – Eunice - was dressed in black from head to toe, as though she was attending a funeral instead of an engagement party. She was pretty enough, mused Delilah, though so thin that her cheekbones stood out sharply, and the short crop of her black hair made her look older than she probably was. Even her name made Delilah think unpleasantly of some strict, grouchy old librarian or schoolteacher. The only reason she could possibly come up with for why Max had invited such a person along was because Eunice was likely the complete and total opposite of the other woman - the one from Seattle who had managed to hurt him so badly.

Finn evidently shared her sentiments, whispering to her, “When I heard Max was bringing a date tonight I was thrilled, figured that he was finally starting to dislodge whatever bug had crawled up his ass and taken residence there. But he’d have been better off bringing a stray cat in from off the street rather than the grim reaper here. The cat might have hissed and scratched but at least it would have shown some emotion. Sheesh, I think I might get frostbite if I have to sit next to her much longer.”

In spite of herself, Delilah couldn’t help laughing at his exclamation, but that only made Eunice glare at her, as though laughter was some sort of crime. In response, Delilah merely lifted her wineglass in a mocking little toast and drank the rest of the contents down.

“Where the hell did Max meet her anyway?” hissed Delilah as Finn refilled her glass.

Finn’s green eyes twinkled with mirth. “If she wasn’t such a cold fish I’d take a guess and say he met her in actual hell. But with all that ice dripping off of her, she’d extinguish all the flames down there. In all seriousness, though, I think Max met her at one of his recent jobs, and she’s got some executive position there.”

“Where was the job?” muttered Delilah. “At a chain of mortuaries?”

He laughed uproariously at her sarcasm, loud enough to attract Max’s attention.

Max shook his head, though he was actually smiling for once. “I won’t even ask what’s amusing Finn,” he drawled. “Though I know from experience it doesn’t take much to make him laugh. Now, I know I sent you an email, Delilah, but I haven’t had the opportunity to congratulate you in person about sealing the deal with Bloomingdale’s. Gray assured me it’s a fantastic deal, more than even he had hoped for. You and your staff are going to be extremely busy over the next few months.”

Delilah beamed at him. “I couldn’t have done it without your advice, Max. And for referring me to Gray. He was more than a little ruthless when it came to the negotiations, but the representatives from Bloomingdale’s didn’t even dare to argue with him. And you’re absolutely right - the deal is so much better than I could have even imagined. Thank you again for everything you did to help make it happen.”

Max gave a light shrug, but she could tell he appreciated her gratitude. “It was nothing at all, Delilah. And my pleasure to help out a friend. You’re a very intelligent and capable businesswoman, and you’ve obviously worked very hard to get this far. Congratulations on your new venture, and best of luck. Needless to say, don’t hesitate to contact me if any financial questions come up, I’m always happy to advise you.”

At Eunice’s quizzical expression, Max explained about Delilah’s business and the lucrative contract she’d just inked with the retailer to sell her clothing line in their stores. Eunice looked distinctly unimpressed when she heard the word “fashion”, and Delilah snidely wondered to herself if the severely garbed woman owned anything besides plain, dark and rather frumpy business suits like the one she was wearing tonight.

And given Max’s rather formal, distant treatment of the woman, Delilah had to assume that they were nothing more than business associates. Max, she thought sadly, would have been better off coming alone tonight instead of bringing someone who was such a downer. But then, she reasoned, tonight’s party was to celebrate love and relationships and togetherness, and it made sense that Max hadn’t wanted to be the only one present without a companion. As the meal progressed through the various courses, though - each one delicious and beautifully prepared - Delilah sourly thought that Finn had been right in his previous assessment, even though it had been intended as a joke. A stray cat would have been more pleasant company than sourpuss Eunice.

‘God, please don’t let Max be seriously interested in this woman,’ Delilah pleaded to some unnamed deity. ‘Because I honestly don’t think I can tolerate her for even one more hour, much less on a regular basis. Though from the look on poor Max’s face, I’m guessing he’s sorely regretting his decision to bring her along.’

She knew that neither Finn nor Jordan had any real idea about what - or who - had been responsible for Max’s aversion to woman, and that their attempts to uncover the truth had been met with stone faced resistance. But she wondered if Max might be more inclined to open up to her about the matter, even though she’d only known him a few months. Perhaps, she reasoned, it might be easier to confide in someone who hadn’t been part of his life for the last twenty years, and especially if that person was a female. She made a mental note to be on the alert for the right opportunity to present itself, figuring that the worst that could happen was Max simply refusing to discuss the matter. He was too polite and reserved, too much of a gentleman, to get angry with her for asking, so she really wouldn’t have anything to lose by at least inquiring.

As the wait staff began to clear away the plates after the main course had been finished, she hurried off to the ladies room, murmuring to Finn that she’d be back before dessert and coffee were served. Delilah walked out of the dining room without a backwards glance, not wanting to put the idea in Eunice’s head that perhaps she should also take this opportunity to visit the restroom. Delilah honestly wasn’t sure she could think of anything remotely polite to say to the other woman face to face.

But she was more than happy to chat with Aubrey and her half-sister when she ran into them in the ladies room. Delilah had already spoken with Aubrey and Jordan earlier this evening, of course, greeting and congratulating them when she and Finn had first arrived. But the engaged couple had been so busy circulating among all of their guests, including family members they hadn’t seen in months, that they hadn’t had the chance to visit further with Delilah, Finn, and Max. And she had yet to be introduced to Tessa Gregson, the stunningly beautiful woman who so closely resembled her younger sister.

“Tess, Delilah is the designer I was mentioning to you,” reminded Aubrey. “She has her own clothing line, really gorgeous stuff. Unfortunately, it’s all in petite sizes, and since the two of us are well over five foot three, none of her designs would fit us.”

Tessa smiled at Delilah as they briefly shook hands. “That is too bad,” she agreed in a soft, breathy voice. “Especially if your designs are as striking as what you’re wearing this evening. At least, I’m going to assume it’s one of yours.”

“It is, yes. And thank you for the compliment, Tessa. Aubrey tells me you have an amazing wardrobe yourself. And if this D & G you’re wearing tonight is any indication, I’m green with envy. I’d love to wear other designers, but I’d have to spend a small fortune on alterations. Or take too much time out of my workday to do them myself.”

Tessa gave a little shrug. “I do have a lot of clothes, I confess. Most of that is because my very generous husband insists on buying me things I don’t really need. But since Ian can be incredibly stubborn at times, there’s no sense in saying no to him. And speaking of having a ton of clothes. My best friend Julia has a wardrobe to rival a supermodel’s. Her walk-in closet is practically a whole room in itself. And I know for a fact she’s worn some of your designs, Delilah, since she’s on the petite side. You’ll have to meet her one of these days. Julia loves nothing better than to talk about fashion.”

“And doesn’t her aunt work in the fashion business?” reminded Aubrey.

“I believe she just recently retired,” corrected Tessa. “Julia’s aunt Madelyn was the head buyer at Bergdorf Goodman for decades. I’m guessing she knows just about everyone in the fashion industry. And since she and her husband live part of the year down in Carmel now that they’re retired, I’m sure I could arrange with Julia for you to meet her one day. If that would be helpful to you, of course.”

“You don’t mean Madelyn Benoit, do you?” asked Delilah incredulously. At Tessa’s nod, she continued. “When I was going to design school in New York, I worked part-time at Bergdorf’s during my sophomore year. I never actually got to meet Ms. Benoit – Madelyn - but I saw her walk through my department at least once a week. She was one of the most beautiful, best dressed women I’ve ever seen, even though she was probably in her early fifties at that time. I would love the opportunity to meet her in person, Tessa. Thank you for offering.”

“Of course,” agreed Tessa easily. “I owe Julia a phone call anyway, so I’ll be sure and contact her over the next few days and see what she has to say. I understand your business is already quite successful, Delilah, but it never hurts to make new contacts.”

As the three women returned to the dining room together, Delilah couldn’t help reflecting on how good life was for her at this particular moment. Her design firm was expanding rapidly, and she had just scored a possible introduction to a very valuable business contact. She was attending a really fabulous party this evening, at one of the most elegant and prestigious venues she’d ever set foot inside. She was among good friends and companions - well, except for the icy Eunice, of course - and couldn’t remember a time in recent months when she had enjoyed herself so much.

And then, of course, there was Finn - her handsome, sexy, devilishly amusing lover, who seemed extra attentive towards her this evening. The fact that all too soon he was going to return to his broadcasting job, which meant frequent absences and even more frequent temptations he’d have to find a way to resist, was not something she wanted to contemplate tonight. The very last thing she wanted to do was ruin this perfect evening by worrying about the future of their still-budding relationship, and the very real obstacles they were going to have to overcome if they wanted to make a serious go of it.

 

***

 

“As much as Jordan’s engagement was a shock, that’s been nothing in comparison to your continued relationship with Delilah. Though the longer it lasts, of course, the richer I get,” commented Max drolly. “How much time is left until I win our latest bet, Jordan?”

Jordan scowled. “Numbers are your specialty, Maxwell. I figured you’ve got it calculated out to the closest hour.”

“Hey!” protested Finn. “You two aren’t seriously taking bets on how long things are going to last between me and Delilah, are you? Because that’s just kind of sick. And not very supportive.”

Jordan pointed a finger at Max accusingly. “It was his idea. Both times.”

“Both times?” screeched Finn. “How the hell long has this been going on, anyway?”

Max and Jordan glanced at each other a bit guiltily, until Max gave a little shrug.

“Calm down, Finn,” he drawled. “It was nothing really. When you first started dating Delilah I merely bet Jordan a hundred dollars that it wouldn’t last a month. I’m pleased to say that the night we all had dinner at Jordan and Aubrey’s he gallantly handed over my winnings. Well, perhaps gallant isn’t the right word. More like hostile.”

“And why are you getting all fired up about us making a friendly little bet anyway?” demanded Jordan. “You, the unofficial campus bookie who would take bets and make bets on just about anything.”

“Except college football, of course,” reminded Max. “Because if you’d been found out that would have meant the end of your athletic scholarship, not to mention your football career.”

Finn glared at his friends. “I don’t ever remember taking bets about how long either of you would date a girl.”

“Not exactly,” agreed Jordan. “However, I distinctly remember a bet going on during our junior year when everyone in the frat house was trying to guess how long that nerdy freshman Elliott would remain a virgin. Pretty sure Max won that bet.”

Max nodded. “I even remember the winning bet - eight months, almost the very end of the school term. And believe me, that five hundred dollars I won came in handy. The academic scholarship I had didn’t extend to pocket money.”

Finn shook his head in disbelieving admiration. “Christ, how do you remember all those little details, Max? I didn’t even remember Elliott the Spaz until just now.”

Jordan poked his longtime best friend in the shoulder, grinning. “Probably because Max didn’t spend the majority of his college days drunk or hungover like you did, and always had fully functioning brain cells.”

Finn would have happily given Jordan the finger if Aubrey’s parents hadn’t been in his direct line of sight. “I wasn’t drunk or hungover nearly as often as you like to make it out to be,” he retorted. “I mean, I couldn’t very well show up to practice or a game in that condition, or I would have been kicked off the team sooner than later.”

“Hmm.” Max took a sip of his after-dinner drink, some brand of horrendously expensive cognac. “Don’t forget your practices were all in the afternoon. Plenty of time for you to bounce back after partying the night away. And I definitely recall any number of occasions when Jordan and I dragged you into a cold shower, and then made you drink three cups of black coffee. Not to mention the eye drops, mouthwash, and painkillers. I remember having to re-stock our supply of Advil on a regular basis.”

Finn rather sullenly acknowledged that maybe he had partied just a little too often during college, not to mention in recent years as well. “But that’s all different now,” he announced. “Not that I’ve given up drinking, of course, but I’ve cut way back. Haven’t really tied one on or had a hangover since I met Delilah. And since she’s not one for loud, boozy parties, I’ve been living a more - let’s call it sedate - lifestyle these past few months.”

“In other words,” joked Jordan, “you’ve fallen under her spell. Nothing like the love of a good woman to put a man on the right path.”

“Whoa!” Finn held up his hands. “Hey, nobody’s said anything about love here. Delilah and I like each other a lot, we’re having a good time together, and keeping things low key.”

Max smirked knowingly. “In other words, you haven’t told her exactly how you feel because she hasn’t done so first. Either that, or you’re afraid she doesn’t return your feelings. Because it’s been obvious to Jordan and Aubrey and me for awhile now, Finley, that you’re quite taken with your Delilah. One might even call it true love.”

Jordan nodded in agreement. “Dude, just own up to it already, would you? You’re head over heels in love with the woman, but for whatever reason you’re hesitant to tell her. Do you really believe she doesn’t return your feelings?”

“I don’t know,” admitted Finn reluctantly. “I mean, she cares about me, of course she does. But she’s got some issues with commitment, and definitely with trust, going back to her parents’ marriage. Without getting into a lot of detail, basically her dad was a serial cheater who wound up leaving his wife for a much younger woman. Delilah’s mom was so wrecked that she committed suicide when Delilah was only fifteen. So all of that has left her a little messed up about relationships, you know?”

“Understandably so,” replied Max somberly. “I can see now why she was so reluctant to go out with you at first, Finn. I’m sure you reminded her of her father. And that’s why it’s so important for you to never betray her trust. I don’t think Jordan and I need to warn you about that.”

“Yep. With a woman like Delilah, if you screw up even once, your balls are going to be on the chopping block,” chimed in Jordan far too cheerfully. “And I’d tell you to behave yourself, but it seems like your woman has you well under control.”

Finn glowered at his friend. “Hey, it’s not like that, okay? Yeah, maybe for the first time in my life I’m actually learning how to compromise and think about someone but myself. But, hell, I’ve never had someone like Delilah in my life, you know? So what if I want to do stuff to make her happy? Or go along with what she suggests most of the time? It’s my choice to do so, my free will, and it makes me happy, too. So if that’s what being controlled is like, then she can control me all she wants.”

“Leave him be, Jordan,” advised Max. “Finn’s right. You and I aren’t in a position to judge his relationship with Delilah, except to advise him again not to mess up what seems to be a very good thing.” He smiled at Finn. “I know the pair of us have been nagging at you for some time now to grow up and realize you aren’t twenty-five any longer. And I’m pleased to say that you’re finally growing up into the man I always knew you could be. Not to mention how relieved I am that I’ll never have to worry about bailing your sorry arse out of jail ever again.”

The three friends shared a laugh, and then thankfully Jordan changed the subject to something other than Finn’s relationship with Delilah. But he couldn’t stop himself from reflecting on the things they had discussed, in particular the fact that neither he nor Delilah had yet to utter those three magic words - “I love you”.

It was all too true, what Jordan had taunted him about. The real reason he hadn’t said the words to Delilah was because he was more than half-afraid that she didn’t fully reciprocate his feelings. And if he was going to take the big plunge for the first time in his life and tell a woman he was crazy in love with her - well, he damned well wanted to be sure she felt the same way before he made a fool of himself. Or had his heart broken.

So he would continue to play the waiting game, he decided, and keep things status quo, just like he’d told Jordan and Max. And hope that for once in his life, the tables didn’t get turned, leaving him to be the one with a broken heart when Delilah decided it was time to call it quits.

Well, that time wasn’t going to be anytime soon, Finn decided fiercely, and definitely not tonight. With that thought firmly in mind, he went to find his errant girlfriend, who had evidently been bolting back shots of some revolting looking purple liquid with Aubrey and her two former roommates from Hawaii. All four women were more than a little tipsy by now, which made his arrival all the more timely.

“Hey, baby!” greeted Delilah cheerily, reaching up to plant a rather sloppy kiss on his cheek. “I was just telling the girls about how much you spoil me.” She clutched his arm as she babbled rather drunkenly to the three women, “You would not believe how good this man is to me. He brings me lunch almost every day, and coffee in the afternoon when I’m ready to crash. He cooks me dinner, too, which is so sweet because, well, he can’t cook very well, though he tries super hard. And he gives the best foot rubs, Omigod, like orgasmic good. Best of all, he lets me be on top whenever I want.”

Finn choked on her last words, coughing and sputtering until out of desperation he grabbed one of the shots that had been lined up on the bar and downed it in one gulp. Fortunately, it tasted a whole lot better than it looked, with some sort of raspberry liqueur being the main ingredient. As he set the empty glass back on the bar, he met the amused glances of the other three women, plus two of the bartenders and several other guests who had overheard Delilah’s gushing praise.

Astonishingly, he felt his cheeks grow warm with embarrassment, and hooked an arm around Delilah’s waist, preventing her from grabbing another shot. “Uh, thanks for all the compliments - I think,” he mumbled. “And maybe, just maybe, you might have had one too many of these little purple drinks. What’s in them anyway?”

“They’re called Purple Hooters,” chimed in one of Aubrey’s ex-roommates, the cute Hawaiian girl whose name Finn couldn’t recall. “Vodka, lime juice, and some sort of yummy raspberry liqueur. Before that we were drinking Blow Jobs, but the bartender ran out of whipped cream so we had to switch.”

He shuddered. “I know I’m really going to regret asking this, but what’s in a Blow Job?”

The other former roommate, the one with curly red hair, giggled at his question. “Baileys, amaretto, and whipped cream. And the real reason they ran out of whipped cream is because Jenna stole the can from the bartender and sprayed half of it into her mouth. Sorry we didn’t save any for you!”

Finn didn’t bother to hide his distaste. “That’s really, really okay. Sounds a little too sweet for my taste. Not to mention there’s no way I’m ever drinking something called a Blow Job.”

He wrinkled his nose, which made all four women laugh hysterically, none louder than Delilah. She stumbled on her sky high heels, clutching the fabric of his shirt to keep herself from falling. Finn wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her back against his chest as he whispered rather urgently, “Looks like someone’s had a few too many shots this evening. You want me to order you a cup of coffee or something?”

Delilah turned to face him, sliding her arms up to clasp around his neck as she smiled at him drunkenly. “I am not drunk,” she announced rather loudly. “And I did not have that much to drink. Finn, did you see the size of those glasses? They’re like - this big,” she insisted, holding her fingers apart a scant inch to approximate the size. “How could anyone get drunk drinking from such a tiny little glass, hmm?”

He laughed in spite of himself, because he had never seen her this inebriated, and it was somewhat comical to see her loosen up this way. “Baby, those glasses are several inches taller than what you just showed me. And my guess is that you’ve belted back at least a dozen of those cute little drinks, maybe even more. And that’s in addition to the champagne and wine you had earlier. So, yeah. Hate to break the news, but you are definitely drunk. Which means we should get you home, and make sure you drink a few glasses of water and take some Advil. Otherwise, you are going to be a very, very unhappy girl in the morning.”

“Pshaw,” scoffed Delilah. “I am not drunk. And we can’t leave yet, Finn. The band is still playing and you’ve only danced with me two times. You promised you would dance with me again, and I’m not leaving until you do.”

“Fine. One dance,” he told her firmly. “Then we get you a cup of coffee, we say our good nights, and get a cab home. Agreed?”

She smiled at him sultrily, batting her long eyelashes as she deliberately pushed her breasts against his chest. “Maybe,” she replied naughtily. “Or maybe I can talk you into two dances. Oh, and I haven’t danced with Max or Jordan yet.”

“They’ll survive,” replied Finn dryly as he escorted her onto the dance floor. “And it looks as though Jordan is going to have his hands full with his bride-to-be anyway. I’m pretty sure Aubrey and her two friends just started singing. Very loudly, I might add. Exactly how much did you ladies have to drink, anyway?”

Delilah gave a careless little shrug as he took her in his arms. “Who knows? After the first six or seven I sort of lost count. And I am not drunk, Finn McManus. Just a little tipsy is all. This has been a great party, you know. I can’t remember when I’ve had this much fun, even without doing shots with Aubrey and her friends.”

He smiled down at her tenderly, tucking a long, glossy strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m glad, baby. And you’re right, it has been a real nice party. I’ve had a great time, too. In spite of having to sit next to Max’s date.”

“He should never, ever date her again,” declared Delilah a bit too loudly. Fortunately the music managed to muffle her voice to a degree. “In fact, I’ve decided I’m going to give that Max a talking to one of these days, just come right out and ask him what happened in Seattle and who the bitch was that broke his heart. And unlike you and Jordan, I’m not going to ease up on him until I get some real answers.”

“Yeah, good luck with that,” muttered Finn. “Not that your heart isn’t in the right place, babe, but getting Max to open up about much of anything is a Herculean task. Though I suppose if anyone can get him to talk it just might be you.”

Fortunately, Delilah was content with just the one dance, and obediently drank the cup of coffee he insisted on ordering for her. By that time, the party was beginning to break up, and most of the guests were bidding each other good night. The coffee evidently hadn’t been nearly enough to sober Delilah up, however, as she made her way around the room giving almost everyone she saw a hug and kiss good-by, even going so far as to smooch Jordan and Max, and even Aubrey and her two ex-roommates - Delilah’s mischievous new drinking buddies - full on the lips. At that point, Finn didn’t hesitate to practically haul her out of the club, fully prepared to carry her fireman-style if necessary.

He had chosen not to drive this evening, knowing that he’d be drinking more than what was normal for him lately, and had the doorman at the club summon a taxi. Thankfully, it was a fairly short drive home from the club, and the traffic was relatively light given the lateness of the hour - thankfully because once inside the taxi Delilah turned amorous, insisting on sitting on his lap and pressing kisses along his face and neck despite his subtle attempts to dislodge her. Finn was all too aware of the smirking cab driver who kept sneaking little glances at the back seat and winking at him knowingly. He didn’t want to think about all the times he’d been all too happy to have a drunken make-out session with one of his pick-ups in a cab or Uber. But Delilah wasn’t like any of those nameless, faceless women, and despite her uncharacteristic tipsiness this evening, he wasn’t about to take advantage of her. And unlike all of those other women, he was both possessive and protective of Delilah, and wasn’t going to allow the driver to keep gawking at her.

Finn was half-afraid he’d have to carry her through the lobby to the elevator, shuddering at the thought, since he knew Delilah would be mortified once she was fully sober if the night concierge were to see her that way. Fortunately, she had sobered up just enough to walk on her own two feet, albeit with his arm firmly wrapped around her waist to support her. Once inside the elevator, she yawned sleepily, resting her head on his shoulder and letting her eyelids droop shut. He figured he’d have to help her undress, a prospect that normally would have aroused him instantly. But he wasn’t about to take advantage of her in this state, when she was practically ready to collapse into a dead faint.

He was shocked speechless, therefore, when Delilah dropped to her knees in front of him just after he had locked the door to his condo. She ran her palms up the sides of his thighs, running her tongue around her glossy coral lips as she stared up at him sultrily.

“Since you didn’t get to drink one of those Blow Jobs at the party - and they were really, really yummy in spite of what you might think,” she purred throatily, “I think it’s only right that you get a blow job of your own, don’t you?”

“Delilah,” he croaked, his hand reaching down to clamp over her wrist as she began to unzip his slacks. “Baby, as much as I appreciate the thought, maybe this isn’t the best time. You’re pretty wasted, you know, and about ready to fall asleep on your feet and - ah, fuck!”

Finn emitted a long, low groan as she deftly unzipped his pants and drew out his cock, stroking him with her soft, cool hand. He knew that he should protest further, should be a gentleman and insist that they continue this another time when she wasn’t so buzzed. But then her tongue began to flutter over and around the broad head of his penis, plunging inside the slit, and then licking up and down the rapidly hardening length. And though he might now consider himself a gentleman, he was still a rutting pig and very much a man, and if she was offering there was no way in hell he was going to refuse such an unselfish gift.

With fumbling hands, he helped her unbuckle his belt and shove his trousers down his legs, freeing his cock for her voracious hands and mouth. Finn threaded his hands into her hair, though he was content for her to control the rhythm tonight, to let her do whatever the hell she wanted to him. He leaned back against the wall for support as she took as much of him as she could handle, until the head of his dick was partway down her throat, and then slid her lips back down to the root. She repeated this action over and over, until the need to climax became overwhelming, and he sensed he couldn’t take much more. Only then did he hold her head still, fucking her sweet, eager mouth with quick, shallow strokes. And when she slipped her hand between his legs to gently squeeze his aching testicles, it was all the encouragement he needed to come, emptying himself like a glutton down her throat, crying out her name hoarsely over and over.

When his legs felt steady enough to support him, he swiftly removed the rest of his clothing, leaving it where it landed in the foyer, and then scooped Delilah up in his arms. She looped her arms around his neck, her head falling limply against his shoulder as though it was too much effort to hold it upright. He carried her to his bed, setting her down with exquisite gentleness, and smiled as she curled up instantly into a fetal position.

“Hey,” he told her smilingly, sitting down next to her on the bed. “Just let me wash up real quick and then it’ll be your turn. Can you undress yourself or do you need me to help you?”

Delilah yawned, burrowing her head against the pillow. “I think I’ll definitely need help,” she mumbled sleepily. “And as far as it being my turn next, I should probably take a raincheck on that offer. Is that okay?”

“Of course it is,” replied Finn tenderly, leaning over to kiss her forehead. “Just wanted to make sure I wasn’t being greedy by not reciprocating. That was, uh, quite an unexpected pleasure a few minutes ago. Not that I’m complaining, of course.”

She smiled, her eyes already starting to close as she gave his cheek a soft caress. “It was my pleasure, too, you know. And just a little way to say thank you for all the nice things you do for me all the time. No one has ever tried to take care of me the way you do, Finn.”

Her sweet words tugged at his heart, and he couldn’t resist kissing her again, on the lips this time. “And I love taking care of you, baby. Maybe because I love you so damned much.”

The words just sort of slipped out without any conscious thought, because it seemed at that particular moment like the most natural thing in the world to say. Finn held his breath in mingled fear and anticipation of her reaction, but as it turned out there was absolutely nothing to have been nervous about.

Because Delilah merely beamed at him in reply, murmuring, “Yeah, I already sort of knew that. I think I figured it out right around the same time I realized I was in love with you, too. Good night. Love you.”

And before he could quiz her further, to his complete and utter astonishment, she curled up into an even tighter little ball and promptly fell fast asleep.