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Authors: R.S. Novelle,Renee Novelle

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Figuring a few more steps out in her
bathrobe wouldn’t hurt, Reagan quickly grabbed the envelope and scooted back
inside. Ripping it open, she found a pink index card that had been scribbled
over in black ink with careful handwriting.

Look behind your door.

Reagan scrunched
her forehead in confusion, but she couldn’t say she wasn’t enjoying the game.
Behind my door?
Opening the front door
again, careful that her robe was pulled tightly over her chest, she stepped
around and looked at the other side of the panel. And there, propped up just
out of sight, was a hot pink dress box that had been tied with a large, black
satin bow. Another envelope had been attached to the box, again with her name
scrawled across the outside.

“Oh my god.” She
squealed excitedly. And snatching it up, she quickly pulled the box into the
apartment and ripped off the note.

Reagan- I prefer to see you in a towel, but thought
this would be more appropriate for tonight. Love, Ian

Giggling to
herself, she pressed the note against her chest before settling on the couch
and drawing the box into her lap. Wasting no time with untying the bow and
lifting off the cover, she gently pulled back the black and pink striped tissue
paper. And then it hit her. Surprised recognition filled every inch of her face.
It was the dress from the boutique. And not just the dress - the shoes, the
earrings, the clutch...it was all there. Every piece she’d lusted over and had left
behind.

When she finally
found her voice again, she squealed loudly with excitement. How could he
possibly have remembered? Better yet, how could he possibly have afforded it? Clearly
there were several things about Ian she still had left to learn. But in the
meantime, she couldn’t help but to think it was too good to be true. She looked
at the size of the dress on the inside label just to make sure, and somehow
he’d managed to guess correctly. Perfect. It was absolutely perfect.

If this was any
indication of how the night was going to go, Reagan thought it was safe to
assume it would be one of the best she’d ever had.

 
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
 

The way the
crowd of party attendees screamed as Petra’s entourage stepped from the
jet-black Cadillac stretch limo made it seem as though a celebrity had just
arrived. And maybe she had, Reagan decided as she watched her friend soak up
the attention. She certainly seemed to be in her element tonight. Some people
were just born for the spotlight, and some people, well, Regan considered, some
people didn’t need it.

As hired
photographers flashed their cameras everywhere, Petra clutched Reagan’s hand, a
smile as bright as the jewels in her tiara lit up her face as the girls posed
on the red carpet in front of the step and repeat that served to announce the
occasion, should anyone happen to forget... Reagan thrust her shoulders back,
exuding confidence as she changed poses. Maybe she could get used to this after
all.

“Next year we’re
going to Cabo.” Petra winked as she whispered to her crew, who was passing
between the Armani clad bouncers. Wherever in the world they were, Reagan felt
confident it would always be a night to remember. And this was certainly no
exception to the rule.

The moment Petra
had slipped through the club doors, and was given enough time to soak in the
splendor of what the club had been transformed into, she raced off to her
dressing room to change into outfit number two of the evening. Reagan had to
admit as she strolled around, taking it all in, that she was sort of enjoying
the quiet in between. Everything around her was sparkling and beautiful, modern
and sleek. Here, she was a world away from regular college life and all the
complications it had imposed recently. Here, she could be a different person,
spontaneous and glamorous, and let the night unfold as it should.

But the quiet
wouldn’t last long. Soon, the doors had opened and the floodgates released.
Excited groups of people pushed into the space, mesmerized by the transition of
a room they’d all been to hundreds of times before. And with the bodies came
pulses of music as the DJ started to play a mix formulated to keep the energy
up and the emotions light. With the beats high and the bass low, there wasn’t
room any longer to think, but Reagan could feel her body reacting, moving,
swaying – ready to enjoy every last carefree second of whatever the night
handed her.

 
“If I could have everyone’s attention
please.” As the music lowered, the noise of the crowd hushed to allow the DJ to
speak. “It’s time for our very special birthday girl, Miss Petra, to come up on
stage.”

Reagan turned,
smiling toward the front of the room. But from out of nowhere, she felt a hand
grab her arm. “I’m not going up there without my best friend.” Petra was
smiling as she spoke, and had begun to pull Reagan through the crowd before she’d
even realized what had happened. Despite her half-hearted objections, she found
herself climbing the platform, looking out into a sea of hundreds of eyes
staring back at her. It would’ve been enough to intimidate anyone who wasn’t a
regular to such occasions, but for Reagan, it was proving to be a true test of
her confidence.

Thankfully, two
costumed performers appeared from the back to roll out a three-tiered cake –
her second cake - that looked more like a piece of abstract art than something
actually edible. The top was lit with sparklers and a huge twenty-one. With the
crowd distracted, Reagan slinked backward, behind a gushing Petra as the DJ led
the crowd in singing
Happy Birthday
.
Maybe this center of attention thing would
take some getting used to after all,
Reagan decided as she applauded her
friend who’d just blown out her enormous candles.

 
“I’d like to thank everyone for coming
out tonight to help me celebrate my birthday.” Petra had begun, and the crowd
cheered again. “You only turn twenty-one once so you might as well do it
right!”

But despite
Reagan’s best intentions to listen intently to her friend’s birthday speech,
everything around her – all the noise, the music, the applause –
suddenly faded out into silence the moment Ian stepped into the club. Dressed
in a stylish variation of black-tie formal, he took in the festivities with all
the calm casualness of someone who should
own
the place. And it was a really,
really
good look on him, she decided.

He caught a
glimpse of her from the corner of his eye, and after an expression of surprise
passed over his face, he smiled and winked with a fluid, easy movement that had
her heart doing flip-flops in her chest.
Breathe
Reagan,
she reminded herself,
breathe
,
though the instructions didn’t seem to be working very well and she wondered if
she looked as stiff and mesmerized as she felt.

“This has been
the best birthday ever!” Reagan tuned back in just as Petra was finishing up. “And
I’m so happy you’re all a part of it. Have fun tonight!” The crowd erupted in
applause as she handed the microphone back to the DJ.

Prancing over to
where Reagan was standing as the dancers began cutting the cake to hand out to
an anxious crowd, Petra leaned closer to her friend, following her gaze. “Are
you a betting girl tonight?” She was speaking low, her expression mysterious as
though she had a secret to tell.

“Maybe.” Reagan
finally broke her stare with Ian to pass a quizzical glance to her friend.
“Why?”

“Because I’d bet
you never thought Ian Scott could look that good in a tux.” Then she waved
casually to Ian and smiled when he began moving in their direction through the gyrating
bodies who’d packed onto the floor. “You’re welcome.” She exclaimed knowingly
before dashing off to change into her third outfit.

Thankfully, it
wouldn’t be long that Reagan was left alone on stage. Soon Ian was standing in
front of her, leaning his elbow casually on the edge. “How’d she get you up
there?” He teased.

“Petra has her
ways.”

Then he winked
at her –
god, she’d forgotten how
to breathe again
– and motioned for her to come down and join him. As
she descended the stairs, she began to wonder to herself how she could’ve ever denied
for so long that she was completely and totally in love with him. She’d known
she was stubborn, but damn this had to set some sort of record. And then he was
next to her, leaning in casually with that charming smile she’d always thought
she’d been immune to alighting his lips, melting her resolve, making her
wonder...

“Hi.” The depth
of his voice filled her, vibrated through her body... or maybe that was the
music coming through the speakers. It was hard to tell, but the effect was
profound either way.

“Hi yourself.”
She hoped her voice didn’t sound as shaky as her legs felt right now. “I see
she got you in a suit.”

“Yeah, well,
it’s hard to say no to a woman who threatens your manhood if you ruin any
second of her fifteen minutes of fame.”

“I guess so.” Reagan
knew Petra well enough to know she’d probably put it exactly in those terms.

“I like your
dress.” He noted playfully. “New?”

But Reagan only
smiled coyly. “A present left at my door today.”

“Really?” He
nodded as though he knew nothing. “Whoever left it must have good taste. I like
it.”

“I’ll let them
know.” She laughed.

Then Ian leaned
in closer to whisper something to her, his lips hovering just an inch from her
ear. “You look beautiful. Want to dance?”

“Sure.” Reagan
smiled, and let him lead her to a different spot on the floor.

Once he’d
settled on the location, he twirled her, spinning her playfully before pulling
her against his body. With hips pressed tightly together until the space
between them had completely closed, Ian moved one hand over her waist, across
her back and let it linger there just above the rise of her hips. The rhythm of
the music guided their movement, and soon they were swaying and shaking as one.
The guy had moves, she’d definitely give him that. Free from restrictions, free
from thought, Reagan let her body loose, dipping her head back. With her hair
wild around her, she’d never felt so sexy, so perfectly beautiful as she had in
this moment. And by the expression in his eyes, Ian seemed to be enjoying this
other side of her.

Leaning closer,
he brushed her cheek with a soft kiss, then offered one to her lips, which she
quickly matched. As the kiss went deeper, their bodies stopped moving, so
caught up were they in the moment together.

 
“Awww...” Awoken from her trance,
Reagan’s head immediately snapped back to find Petra gushing as she walked up
to greet them. Clearly, she’d already had a few shots in her dressing room. “You
two are so cute together.”

Reluctantly
releasing Reagan, Ian offered his hostess a friendly hug. “Happy birthday,
Petra.”

“Thank you. Now
be a love and go get me and your new girlfriend here something to drink so we
can talk about you.”

But before he
moved, he looked to Reagan for confirmation that she wanted something, a
gesture she found charming. “Sure.” If nothing else, it might calm her nerves a
little.

 
“Then I’ll be right back.” He promised
before kissing Reagan’s cheek and disappearing into the crowd.

Waiting until he
was successfully out of hearing distance, Petra jumped with excitement.
“It’s about time!” She exclaimed. “You two are hot together!”

Reagan felt her
cheeks burn with embarrassment, and was once again thankful for the dim
lighting around her.

 

When Ian held up
his fingers to the bartender, indicating the number of glasses he wanted filled
with whatever the intoxicating mixture was Petra had decided on for her open
bar, he noticed those fingers were shaking. However slightly. But they were still
shaking, and he hoped no one else could tell. He couldn’t remember the last
time a girl had him worked up like this.
Relax,
he told himself as he accepted the tall glasses and tried to balance the three.

Taking a deep
breath, he turned to walk away. But he’d failed to notice the figure who’d
slinked up next to him until it was too late. Nearly knocking her over in the
process – drinks and all –it took a little luck and a lot of quick
reflexes to save him from the possible disaster.

“Sorry.” He
stammered quickly.

But the figure
didn’t seem to mind the close contact. In fact, she just drew closer to him,
making it nearly impossible for him to move from that spot. “She must be one
special girl to get you into a suit.” She teasingly purred.

It took him a
moment to place the figure with the voice, and then the voice with the name. He
hadn’t thought about her, let alone spoken to her, in nearly a week. And hadn’t
really cared to give her too much attention prior to that. She’d just been a
distraction, something he thought might help him get his mind off Reagan. It
hadn’t worked.

“Isabella?” He
said after several quiet seconds. Of course it was, he finally decided, she
oozed sexuality with every word and gesture. It was an act she’d spend a lot of
time refining, and if he were being honest, it was beginning to get played out.

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