His stomach was in knots. No matter how many formal events he attended, it was always the same reaction. He stared in the mirror at his newly tied bow-tie, brushing back his slightly overgrown brown hair, and attempting to slow his breathing. He'd been to plenty of black tie affairs, graduating top honors from a prestigious school, being in one of the most selective fraternities, this should have been old hat. It wasn't. At his core he was still the country boy who would come back in from a hard day's work and kick the mud off his boots before settling in with a good book. Regardless of how far he climbed up the corporate ladder, he was still that same flannel wearing boy from Tennessee.
His wife came in and smiled at him, brushing a loose hair from his shoulder. This was her idea after all, something the wives had talked about doing and finally put together the opportunity. He hated their little clique, always chattering away like squirrels about this month's indiscretion, how each of their husbands were doing within the firm, or where next they'd vacation. If it were up to him, he'd toss it all and move out to a cabin away from it all, spend his days hunting, fishing, reading, and just enjoying an early retirement. Alas, there was college for the kids to prepare for, a new car every couple years and always trying to show-up the neighbors.
He took one last look in the mirror, frowning at the salt and pepper setting in on the sides of his head. "The ravages of age" he told himself. His wife said it was sexy, regardless of what he thought. He took one last look at himself, wondering if he looked more like James Bond - sophisticated and debonair - or someone foolishly attempting to look the part. Sometimes he thought he took advantage of his 5 foot 8 figure. Other times... he just let out a sigh and prepared to leave.
This wasn't to be any ordinary black tie affair. This was a masquerade ball. Apparently, the boss's wife had visited Toronto a few years back to watch Phantom of the Opera, and had recently come across the program, deciding to relive some of the thrill. They had both ordered wonderful masks for the occasion: his a plain white rough porcelain, hers a black feathered number. They had also rented an Aston Martin for the affair, an indulgence of his to attempt to make him feel a bit more toward the Bond end of the spectrum.
They arrived a little after 9 PM to the boss's lavish abode. Already a plethora of cars lined the long drive to the house. Luckily for him there was a valet laid on for the night. As they stepped out of the car, it almost felt like a movie premier: bodies lined the approach to the house, and a red carpet had been added to the walkway. He smiled at his wife, who flowed gracefully by his side up to the main doors, soon to join what he assumed would be the squawking geese that awaited her, settling into their typical routine of avoiding each other for the evening.
As his wife left his side at the doors, he turned to a side mirror in the foyer to adjust his tie. He finally admitted to himself that he could very well be mistaken for the dark, carefree, jet setting agent this evening, a wry grin on his face. He decided to work up a little courage, thus setting off for the bar.
"Double Bombay Sapphire and Tonic," he said commandingly as he stepped up to the bar. Surprisingly there were few around the bar at the moment, though a flash caught his eye. Sitting poised on a stool near the end of the bar was a slight, but stunning figure. It was an Asian beauty, no more than perhaps five feet tall had she been flat footed, currently wearing very tall stilettos. Her raven black hair pinned in a bun, stunning olive legs crossed at the knee, and exotic eyes showing through a simple black cat-like mask that hinted at a playful sexuality. He was momentarily stunned, but quickly regained his senses. Before he turned back to the drink that was placed before him, he swore he saw a sexy grin returned in payment for the attention received. He shook off his moment of indulgence and claimed his drink.
"Well, look who managed to grace us with his presence!" The jovial statement came from his boss, one of the few men in this business he grew to admire. Unlike many of his associates and the firm's partners, this man got into the business out of love, and always worked diligently to be on the side of what's right, not just for the bottom line.
"I can't always stick to the shadows now, can I?" The reply was returned with a chuckle and a slap on the back. His boss knew of his uncharacteristic dread of these events, but also knew the man as an indispensable member of the firm, so the acknowledgment was well received.
He looked back toward the end of the bar. The raven-haired beauty was gone. He walked over to where she was sitting and closing his eyes breathed in. The scent of jasmine overwhelmed his sense, almost making his mouth water from the longing just beginning to stir.
He opened his eyes slowly and thought he saw the beauty again, this time on the stairs. He glanced around casually, noticing his wife at the expected gaggle of bodies, mouth seeming to not stop as she tried her best to impress. He shook off his momentary feeling of disgust and turned back to look toward the stairs. He didn't know what he was going to do, but he did know he was going to let his curiosity get the better of him. He casually crossed the bar and out to the larger access room, sauntering to the stairs.
Although he distinctly remembers her there, she was gone yet again. His pace was quickening, heart racing as he searched for her. Slowly climbing the stairs his efforts were rewarded yet again. He smell the flowers again, he smelled her. A craving was growing inside him, one he didn't quite expect but one he was willing to feed a little this evening.
He proceeded up the stairs, and out onto the large open-air balcony that overlooked the front of the estate. There were couples a groups mingling up here, many of whom he didn't recognize under the masks, and a single, solitary individual in a fiery red formal dress, leaning casually over the balcony railing. His mouth dried as he neared. What was he to say? His thoughts raced as he took a few more steps. This isn't the type of thing he normally did, meet strange women at formal events, yet here he was. Before he could think of something to say, she spoke at his approach.
"I hope you didn't mind the stroll, I love it up here under the stars." Her voice was like the primal purr of a jungle cat: dark, rich, rolling, seductive. He felt his skin flush and his thoughts cease. There were very few images coming to mind now, none of which involved the party.
"It's a beautiful night, though I'm not sure it can compare to you." He must have been channeling someone else entirely at this point; lines like that never escape his lips.
