I planned it.
Plus, the nature around us was working its magic. Bright stars glittered in the sky while the full moon hovered over us. Dark ocean waves sparkled just right as they swished out a haunting melody. Lit torches guided our way. The wind blew through her hair and I caught a whiff of that captivating perfume she wore.
I ran up to her and got on her side. “What is the name of your fragrance? It’s so feminine and perfect.”
“Thanks. My mom created it for me. She’s a perfumier.” Dawn rubbed her wrist against my nose, probably so I could get a better whiff. “Mom mixed currants, jasmine, rose petals, sandalwood, and get this, pralines.”
“That’s amazing. Do you think she could whip up something for me?”
“Of course. She likes to meet people, talk with them for a while, and create a scent that she believes tells her about them.”
“So what does that blend say about you?”
She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “I have no idea. Maybe I’m feminine like the flowers she used, but also a bit nutty, since she dropped in pralines at the end.”
We arrived toward the end of the path. An old woman sat on a stool several feet away. Slow music filled the air as she strummed a guitar and sang out an old tune in Spanish.
“Oh my.” Dawn held her hand to her chest while I led her into the picnic area. “This is beautiful.”
Two tables were outside. Hundreds of candles formed around the space in the shape of a heart. A small table rested in the center. The finest silverware on the yacht lounged on that table. White roses in a silver dish finished the setting off as their flowery fragrance merged with the food’s tantalizing aroma.
Two servants stood farther away, next to a large table. A buffet of small dishes covered it. Anything a woman could desire lay in one of those bowls, from savory to sweet, meaty to simmering soup. I made sure the chef provided it all. I needed to fulfill Dawn’s every desire, make her fantasy come true. And I had to be her fantasy. She joked about Disney princesses like they were insignificant little waifs, but I could see that she hoped to be a princess one day. That secret want glazed in her eyes, telling me that she still yearned to be swept off of her feet and treated like royalty.
And that’s just how I’ll get her.
I pulled out a chair and let Dawn sit down.
I’ll probably bend her over this table when we’re done eating. I should have Chef Michel grab some whip cream.
Before I could get in my own seat, she asked, “How did your mother pass away?”
I hung in mid-air with my knees half bent and a dumb expression plastered on my face. In my head, the evening was going according to plan, but once again, Dawn changed the schedule.
“W-why?” I asked.
“I’m sorry. I probably shouldn’t have asked that. It’s a pretty awful thing to ask.” She grabbed the water and gulped some. “How about I apologize and blame it on the alcohol? Maybe I shouldn’t have drunk those shots.”
I slumped into the chair with less finesse than I’d planned to. “Why did you want to know about my mother?”
“It was just sad. I was wondering how it happened. It’s a pretty rude thing to ask. I’m really sorry.”
I held my hand up. “No. It’s fine. It’s just . . .no one has ever asked me that.”
Her regretful expression shifted to skeptical. “I don’t believe you.”
“Trust me. No one’s ever asked me that. Not even guy friends back at any of my boarding schools or in college and definitely not any of the women from the games my brother and I play. I’m just surprised that you asked.”
“I’m pretty nosy.”
“Well,” I held my hands together, “Do you really want to know? It might make you sad.”
“It’s up to you if you want to tell me.”
I rubbed the inside of my palm. “My mom committed suicide.”
She covered her face. “Oh God. I’m really sorry for asking—”
“No, seriously. It’s fine.” I waved my hand. “This
Plus, the nature around us was working its magic. Bright stars glittered in the sky while the full moon hovered over us. Dark ocean waves sparkled just right as they swished out a haunting melody. Lit torches guided our way. The wind blew through her hair and I caught a whiff of that captivating perfume she wore.
I ran up to her and got on her side. “What is the name of your fragrance? It’s so feminine and perfect.”
“Thanks. My mom created it for me. She’s a perfumier.” Dawn rubbed her wrist against my nose, probably so I could get a better whiff. “Mom mixed currants, jasmine, rose petals, sandalwood, and get this, pralines.”
“That’s amazing. Do you think she could whip up something for me?”
“Of course. She likes to meet people, talk with them for a while, and create a scent that she believes tells her about them.”
“So what does that blend say about you?”
She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “I have no idea. Maybe I’m feminine like the flowers she used, but also a bit nutty, since she dropped in pralines at the end.”
We arrived toward the end of the path. An old woman sat on a stool several feet away. Slow music filled the air as she strummed a guitar and sang out an old tune in Spanish.
“Oh my.” Dawn held her hand to her chest while I led her into the picnic area. “This is beautiful.”
Two tables were outside. Hundreds of candles formed around the space in the shape of a heart. A small table rested in the center. The finest silverware on the yacht lounged on that table. White roses in a silver dish finished the setting off as their flowery fragrance merged with the food’s tantalizing aroma.
Two servants stood farther away, next to a large table. A buffet of small dishes covered it. Anything a woman could desire lay in one of those bowls, from savory to sweet, meaty to simmering soup. I made sure the chef provided it all. I needed to fulfill Dawn’s every desire, make her fantasy come true. And I had to be her fantasy. She joked about Disney princesses like they were insignificant little waifs, but I could see that she hoped to be a princess one day. That secret want glazed in her eyes, telling me that she still yearned to be swept off of her feet and treated like royalty.
And that’s just how I’ll get her.
I pulled out a chair and let Dawn sit down.
I’ll probably bend her over this table when we’re done eating. I should have Chef Michel grab some whip cream.
Before I could get in my own seat, she asked, “How did your mother pass away?”
I hung in mid-air with my knees half bent and a dumb expression plastered on my face. In my head, the evening was going according to plan, but once again, Dawn changed the schedule.
“W-why?” I asked.
“I’m sorry. I probably shouldn’t have asked that. It’s a pretty awful thing to ask.” She grabbed the water and gulped some. “How about I apologize and blame it on the alcohol? Maybe I shouldn’t have drunk those shots.”
I slumped into the chair with less finesse than I’d planned to. “Why did you want to know about my mother?”
“It was just sad. I was wondering how it happened. It’s a pretty rude thing to ask. I’m really sorry.”
I held my hand up. “No. It’s fine. It’s just . . .no one has ever asked me that.”
Her regretful expression shifted to skeptical. “I don’t believe you.”
“Trust me. No one’s ever asked me that. Not even guy friends back at any of my boarding schools or in college and definitely not any of the women from the games my brother and I play. I’m just surprised that you asked.”
“I’m pretty nosy.”
“Well,” I held my hands together, “Do you really want to know? It might make you sad.”
“It’s up to you if you want to tell me.”
I rubbed the inside of my palm. “My mom committed suicide.”
She covered her face. “Oh God. I’m really sorry for asking—”
“No, seriously. It’s fine.” I waved my hand. “This
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