THE BIRTHDAY GIFT
I will be the first person to tell you that I don't like going to parties where I don't know anyone on the guest list. Unfortunately for me, I had to have such a party right here at my house. My wife and I had recently moved to the Chicago area from Los Angeles due to a promotion that she got at work and she was having the whole office over for a cocktail party.
My wife Lisa is a tall, slender blonde with brown eyes and cute little dimples when she smiles. We met in high school and got married just after we finished college. Our relationship had been pretty good for years, sure there were some bumps along the way but nothing major. I had no complaints about our sex life, though things had slowed quite a bit lately due to the move and the pressures of her new position at work.
One thing I did enjoy about cocktail parties was it gave me an excuse to dress up like Don Draper or James Bond for a little while. As a freelance writer, my normal work clothes consist of a t-shirt and jeans so it's fun to dress up now and then. I checked myself out in the mirror, even for a guy turning 40 in a few weeks I thought I looked pretty good, great genes made me 6'6" and hard work at the gym kept me in shape.
I went downstairs and found my wife hard at work, making sure everything was set for the party. She was wearing a sexy, yet elegant black lace A-line dress that ended just above her knees. The plunging neckline showed off her ample 36Cs nicely and I couldn't help but check her out.
"Wow, you look amazing," I said as I took her in from head to toe then reached out for a crab puff.
"Thank you," she said as she slapped my hand away from the tray. "Those are for the guests."
"Aren't you going to mention how good I look in this suit?" I grinned.
"What are you, a girl?" she smiled as she stopped long enough to actually take a look before saying, "You look very nice, dear."
"Was that so hard?" I chuckled causing Lisa to roll her eyes.
"Please be on your best behavior tonight, I have to work with these people," she said as she went down the checklist on her iPhone of all the things that needed to be done for the party.
"Right, talk about politics, religion, and sex, got it," I grinned.
"Why do I even try?" Lisa sighed as she saw me eyeing the crab puffs. "Go ahead, you can have one, and talk about sports, this is Chicago."
"Got it," I smiled as she handed me a crab puff, gave me a kiss and then disappeared into the living room.
As the guests started to arrive I was introduced to so many people it was making my head spin. I am never great with remembering names and meeting so many people at one time was pure overload. I figured all I needed to remember was that my wife's boss was named Tom and his wife was named Marissa. He had a weak jawline and a weak handshake but she was a looker, a tall blonde with piercing blue eyes.
My wife had hit it right on the head, the small talk in this Chicago suburb was all about sports. Everyone had an opinion on why the Bears sucked and why the Cubs were the best team in all of baseball. The conversation was so mind-numbingly boring that I could barely stand it. At least the crab puffs were good.
After one junior executive opined philosophical for a good 10 minutes on Jake Arrieta's beard, I knew I needed a little break from the party so I slipped off into my office/library where I treated myself by pouring myself a glass of 18-year-old Bushmills Irish Whiskey into a glass. I sat down in one of the oversize leather chairs and closed my eyes for a moment to decompress.
"I see you're hiding the good stuff in here," said a female voice, breaking the silence. I looked up and saw a stunningly beautiful brunette in a little black dress and heels standing in front of me.
"Guilty," I smiled. "May I pour you one?"
"Sure," she smiled warmly. "By the way, I'm Natalia, Lisa's assistant," she said holding out her hand as I stood up.
"Very nice to meet you, I'm Scott," I smiled as I took her hand, leaned down and kissed it softly. Natalia was around 25 years old and 5'5" tall though she stood closer to 5'9" in the black leather Jimmy Choo's she was wearing. She had an amazing hourglass figure, her 38Ds were barely contained by her dress and her slim, shapely legs were perfection. The most stunning thing about her, though, was her grey-blue eyes that appeared to stop time when you looked into them.
"Not much of a party guy?" Natalia asked with a smile as I poured her a glass of the Bushmills.
"I don't mind parties, I just hate meeting tons of new people at once and having to make small talk," I smiled. "Do you want ice?"
"And ruin a perfectly good whiskey?" she smiled. "Just a splash of water, please"
"A girl after my own heart," I said in a bad Irish accent and smiled, putting just a couple drops of water into her glass and handing it to her.
"Thank you, sir," she grinned. "How about those Cubbies?"
"Fuck the Cubs," I chuckled and held out my glass.
"Fuck the Cubs," she smiled devilishly and clinked my glass and took a sip. "So how are you enjoying Chicago so far?"
"It's not bad, but I'll let you know after we survive our first winter," I said as I motioned for Natalia to take a seat in the other leather chair as I returned to my original location. "I have a feeling I'll be missing LA."
"Yeah, I'm a warm weather girl myself. I'd much rather be on a beach with a pina colada in my hand. Chicago winters do make you find new and creative ways to stay warm, though," she smiled and sipped her whiskey.
"True," I smiled back. "I hope Lisa isn't working you too hard, she can be a bit of a perfectionist."
"A bit of one?" Natalia giggled.
"I'm sure she'll calm down a bit once she's been here a while. I'm not sure how she puts in the number of hours that she does," I said as I sipped my whiskey. "I know I've been blessed to have a job where I can be my own boss. Growing up I got fired from more than a few jobs for telling the boss to get bent."
"Yeah, Lisa said you were a writer. What do you write?" Natalia asked as she crossed her slender legs and sat back in the big leather chair.
"Well, I've covered significant ground over the years. I started with local news and sports then moved to tech reporting. Right now I have my own niche blog and contribute to a few other sites under different pen names," I said and then finished my whiskey. I put the glass on the small table that sat between our two chairs as I tried not to stare at Natalia's long legs.
"That's a bit cryptic, Mr. Lawrie," Natalia smiled. "What are you hiding?" she asked playfully as she smiled wider and sipped her whiskey.
"Alright, if you must know, but this is just between you and me," I smiled and leaned in closer to Natalia. "I run the most popular Doctor Who fan blog on the Internet."
"You do not!" Natalia scowled as she leaned towards me and slapped me on the arm.
"It is true, I know it's not exactly the subject that will attract all the pretty, young ladies at a cocktail party," I smiled. Natalia sat there for a moment in the big, leather chair sizing me up. Her grey-blue eyes stared into mine as if she was trying to decide if I was being serious or not.
"Someone put you up to this, right?" she asked.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," I said.
"I took so much shit when that picture went around the office last year, who told you about it?" Natalia asked, sure I was having a joke at her expense.
"I have no idea what picture you're talking about, Natalia," I said. "Care to show me?"
"I don't think so," she said, her cheeks getting a bit red. "What planet is Doctor Who from?"
"Gallifrey, why do you ask?" I grinned.
"Ok, too easy, the actor that played the 3rd doctor?" she shot back.
"Jon Pertwee," I smiled enjoying Natalia's improvised trivia contest so I asked her a question of my own. "What episode was the first appearance of River Song?"
"That would be 'Silence in the Library,' the 8th episode of the 4th series of the new Doctor run," Natalia grinned as she finished her whiskey and put her glass down on the table next to mine.
"Very good," I smiled. "Believe me now?"
"Yes, I do," Natalia said as she reached into her small black clutch and pulled out her iPhone. She pulled up a picture and handed the phone to me. The picture was of her in a dress that looked like the Tardis, Doctor Who's time machine which looks like an old English police box for you non-fans, standing next to Tom Baker, one of the actors that played Doctor Who.
"You got to meet Tom Baker?" I asked with a grin. "He is so much fun, such a witty guy."
"Yes, he is," Natalia smiled wide. "Nobody in the office even knew who he was! They all just made fun of my dress and asked if I was on a date with my grandpa."
"For what it's worth, I think you rocked that dress," I smiled as I handed her phone back to her. "I'm surprised Lisa didn't mention to me that you were a Whovian."
"I'm sure she has no clue," Natalia laughed. "After I took so much crap about it last year I have steered clear of any nerd talk."
"I understand," I smiled warmly. "She used to make fun of my obsession with the show, and sci-fi in general, until my little blog started out-earning her corporate job."
"The nerds will always win," Natalia said as she stood up. "We should get back to the party, Lisa sent me to find you."
"If we must," I groaned as I stood up.
"I'm glad we had a chance to talk," Natalia said as she stowed her phone in her clutch.
"Same here," I smiled as Natalia twirled around and headed out of the room. She had an amazing ass that swayed with confidence as she walked. She must have sensed me checking her out because she turned around and gave me a smile as we rejoined the others.
The rest of the party was uneventful. I did my husbandly duties and smiled, made small talk and manned the bar to make drinks when needed. Natalia was helping my wife by serving h'orderves and getting drinks for people. More than a couple times, when someone mentioned the Cubs to me, Natalia showed up and quickly changed the topic of conversation. She'd give me a wink then disappear back into the crowd.
I was tidying up the bar as the last of the guests were heading out the door. My wife was saying her goodbyes and thanking them for coming to the party. I heard the door shut and a few moments later my wife appeared, she sat down on one of the bar stools and kicked off her heels.
"That was exhausting," she sighed.
"Need a drink?" I smiled.
"No, I'm just going to go up to bed," she said looking up at me with her brown eyes. "My feet are killing me."
