What a Mistae to Mae

Hi Everyone.

Today, I am trying something different. This will be my last 750-word story for now, but it's a two-for-one deal. I have put two 750 stories together--one from his point of view and one from her point of view. I hope you enjoy it.

There won't be a full story or any follow-up, so please don't ask. I did get my editor to run through this, so thank you, Ian.

For those who don't like or don't get the concept. I have written a story in 750 words or less, no more. You can only get so much said in the words available, and it doesn't give much scope for detail.

Thanks to all the readers of my first 750, the reaction was incredible. It taught me so much, and I will be doing more in the Loving Wives category in the near future.

Don't forget to comment and score at the bottom.

******************************

We enter the ballroom after a wonderful meal. Arm in arm with my husband as he escorts me to the table I point to. He heads straight off in need of a proper drink, as he says. I've felt awkward tonight, but I can't put my finger on it. I'm not one to wear anything revealing, but I have gone a little risqué with my full-length figure-hugging gown.

I've worked for Benedict's Solicitors for the last eighteen months, and this is the first Christmas party my husband and I have attended. We had a different engagement in Washington this time last year.

He gets his single malt, and my glass of red, and is making his way back. "Julia, would you mind coming with me to the ladies?" Silvia, one of the personal assistants, asks.

I think it is an odd request, but she is an influential person in the company, and I don't want to upset the apple cart. I smile and nod. "Just going to powder my nose, Steve," I say to my husband. We thread our way through the tables, but I can't help but feel everyone's eyes on me. "Silvia," I say, trying to get her attention. She turns her head and slows so I can catch up. "Have I got something wrong with my dress or something?" I ask.

"Nothing we can't sort out," she says before continuing our trek.

Two of her lackeys are waiting near the bathroom door. "Ladies," I say, still trying to be polite but getting a little worried. They both squeal with excitement as I pass, taking me by surprise. I hear the band start to play some background music.

"Come on, ladies, we haven't got much time," Silvia calls over her shoulder.

We get into the empty bathroom. "Silvia, what is this about," I say as I check my dress in the mirror. "There's nothing wrong with my dress.

"That's your opinion, but it won't do for tonight," Silvia says flatly, appraising me.

I gasp; I love this dress. "What's so special about tonight?" I ask.

"Why, Julia, you have been chosen by Jenson Benedict himself to accompany him tonight," Silvia says proudly.

I laugh. "I'm here with my husband. Jenson Benedict will have to choose someone else," I hit back.

"Oh no, no, no, my dear. What Jenson wants, Jenson gets, and tonight he wants you. You will be by his side all night, dance only with him, and when the night is done, he will escort you to his room."

Again, I laugh, and then it dawns on me what she said. "Wait, he wants to sleep with me tonight? I'm sorry. I love my husband. Sleeping with another man will never happen."

"Oh, my dear, as if you have a choice. You should be honoured he has chosen you. Right, off with this dress, he wants more on display."

"Touch me, and I will knock your block off."

"Now come on, stop being so stubborn, Julia," Carol, one of the minions, says. "If we don't hurry up, we will miss the first dance, and Jenson will be very upset. We'll all be lucky if we have jobs by Monday."

"I don't give a shit about your jobs. If you go through with this, there won't be a company left on Monday," I say angrily.

"Yeah, right, what's going to happen? The Benedict's are too powerful."

"Your precious boss won't last the night," I say more angrily.

"What do you mean? What are you or your husband going to do?"

"I won't need to do anything, but my husband will defend me."

"So, what can a dentist do?" Silvia scoffs.

I laugh. "My husband is not a dentist. He's 'The Dentist'! It's his squad nickname because he can extract anyone from any situation. The reason we were not here last year was because we

were having dinner with the president as a thank-you for rescuing Senator Jenkins's son from Yemen. Wait until I tell my husband about this," I say, smiling.

"I suspect he already knows," Carol says, noticing that it's gone very quiet outside.

"Oh, no, he'll kill him," I say, worried.

"I'm sure Mr Benedict will just rough him up a little," Silvia says, suddenly worried and walking back out.

I walk up next to Silvia. "I'm not worried about Benedict. I'm worried Steve will get Jenson's blood on his suit," I say. Then smile when I spot my man standing over three still figures.

*************************************

We walk through two ornate doors after an incredible meal, with my wife's arm through mine as I proudly escort her to our table. She is looking stunning tonight in her figure-hugging dress. I've already noticed a number of her workmates checking her out. I smile, knowing that she only ever has eyes for me.

She's been working for the largest law firm on the east side, Benedict's Solicitors, for some eighteen months now. I wouldn't say I like these events, and this is the first company Christmas party we have attended. Last year we were invited to dinner by my boss. Being a member of the Special Forces, my boss happens to be the president.

Happy that my wife is settled, I head off in search of my single malt and a glass of red for my special lady. I'm lucky to be one of the first to the bar and served quickly. I'm heading back to the table, and my wife is talking to a middle-aged lady who has a look of self-importance.

As I approach, my wife stands. "Just going to powder my nose, Steve," she says. I smile and nod to say I heard. I watch my wife's ass sway as she makes her way between the tables.

"Your wife?" A guy, who's sat at our table, asks.

"Yes," I answer. "It'll be our twelfth anniversary in the spring," I say.

A woman, I presume his wife, whispers something; instantly, his face changes, and he gives me a look that I couldn't read.

"I hear you're a dentist," the woman says.

I laugh. "Not quite," I say. The truth is my squad handle is 'The Dentist' because I'm good at extraction, but it is not something I share. I'm distracted by the band, who started to play some background music.

A large guy catches my eye when he looks away. I know he's part of the security by the way he's dressed. A second is positioned on the opposite side. They are a little overweight, but I guess they could take care of most guys in here.

Then, the second guy looks away when I glance his way. Once, I can dismiss, but twice, something is going on. My eyes lock on a guy with broad shoulders; he is sitting at the main table and doesn't look away.

As he gets up, I ask the guy next to me, "Who's the steroid jock just getting up?"

He looks at me and then looks in the same direction. "Jenson Benedict. He's the son of the CEO and Owner, Winston Benedict."

"Shit. Looks like he's coming our way." I say to two empty seats.

"Steven, so good to finally meet you," Jenson says in a way that makes the hairs on my neck stand up. I also notice the two goons have moved closer, so I stand and offer my hand.

"Jason," I say, squeezing hard and deliberately getting his name wrong.

Jenson's smile falters for a second. "Ummm, Jenson," he corrects. "Just letting you know, I've chosen your wife to have the first dance with tonight."

I smile. "Well, you better choose another because my wife always dances the first dance with me."

Jenson smiles like he knows something. "Oh, she won't be having any dances with you. In fact, she won't even be leaving with you." Jenson says, adjusting the sleeves of his jacket.

"Over my dead body," I say through gritted teeth.

An arm touches my shoulder. "Now come on, we don't want any trouble."

"Remove your hand, or I'll rip it off," I say to the goon.

Jenson laughs at his own sense of superiority. I take a deep, calming breath and then make my move. I grab the hand on my shoulder and pull it across me. I want to incapacitate the guy, not kill him, unlike 'smirky' in front of me. Using the heel of my hand, I make contact with the top curve of his diaphragm; winding him and making him collapse.

The second guy is a little slow to react, so I snap my right hand out, making contact with Jenson's, Adam's apple. Jenson staggers back, allowing my foot to make contact with his crown jewels. I swivel around and take the third guy down with a simple sweep of his legs before Jenson hits the floor.

I stand up straight, check my suit isn't creased, and look toward the toilets to see my wife smiling towards me.