I toyed with my veal, wondering what the fuck was going on.
Within a matter of minutes, Wills returned to the table. He had himself under control once more. If I hadn’t spent the last nine months getting to know him, I wouldn’t have guessed that he’d been seriously disturbed by something only moments before.
“This looks good.” He spread his napkin across his lap and picked up his fork. “I’m starved.”
* * * *
We finished off dinner with cappuccino and a cake filled with cannoli cream. On it was a single candle, and the waiters came out singing “Happy Birthday” in Italian. The other diners applauded as I blew out the candle.
“How’d you know it was my birthday, Nino?”
“Ah,” he tried to look mysterious. “A little bird, he told me so.” And he winked at Wills.
“When did you have time to tell him?”
“When I called to make the reservation. I told you, babe. Only the best for my guy.”
I laughed and shook my head, relieved that he had regained his equilibrium.
Nino brought the check and a box for the rest of my cake, and when I reached for my wallet, Wills rested his hand on mine.
“It’s your birthday, babe. I’ve got it.” He took out a credit card and placed it on the tray.
Nino returned with the chit, and Wills signed it, pocketed his credit card, and left a very sizable tip.
“Ready, babe?”
“Yeah.”
He reached into his inner jacket pocket and took out a slim phone about the size of a cigarette case. “Granger, pick us up in about five minutes.” He flipped the phone shut and replaced it. “Okay, let’s collect our overcoats and go.”
On the way out I noticed that the alcove where Vince and his dinner companion had been seated was now occupied by another couple.
The limo was idling at the curb, and lounging against it was our chauffeur.
Granger looked like something out of a movie about high society—six feet tall, dressed in a snug, black chauffeur’s uniform, patent leather boots that molded well-shaped calves, a billed cap shading quietly observant gray-green eyes.
At our approach, Granger snapped to attention and opened the passenger door.
“Shall I take that, sir?” She nodded toward the boxed cake in my hand. Her voice was husky, deep for a woman.
“No, that’s okay, thank you.”
“Very good, sir. To the Madison Arms now?”
“Yes, please.” I turned my head to smile at my lover. “We’re going to be fashionably late.”
“Cool. I always wanted to make an entrance.”
Granger suddenly coughed. She appeared to have something in her throat. Wills raised an eyebrow, and she cleared her throat. Her face smoothed of all expression, she murmured, “Beg pardon, sir,” waited until we entered the limo, then shut the door, walked around to the driver’s side, and got in.
“She reminds me of you when you get that look on your face.”
“What look?”
He really had no clue? I just grinned at him. “Where’d you find this company anyway, babe?” Acme Limousine Service—I didn’t think I’d ever heard of it, and I’d ridden in about every limousine service in DC, Virginia, and Maryland. Not that I was about to tell my lover that.
“Someone at work recommended it.” He exchanged a smile with the chauffeur through the rearview mirror.
“Ah.” Should I be jealous? “Tell ‘someone’ I said thanks.”
No, there was no reason for me to be. Granger had black hair, after all.
I pressed a button, raising the smoked glass partition that separated the driver’s compartment from the passenger’s.
I loved limousines.
This limo’s amenities were surprisingly lavish. It contained a mini bar fully stocked with 50 ml bottles of vodka, gin, scotch, and whiskey, as well as various liqueurs and splits of champagne, and a fridge that not only held cream and mixers for the drinks, but caviar and crème fra? che, smoked salmon, truffles, and foie gras—I’d checked it out earlier. A small cabinet opened up to reveal packets of Petits Toasts and Carr’s Table Water Crackers.
“The only thing that’s missing are blinis.” I opened the fridge, made some room, and slid the box inside. “Want some caviar, babe?”
“After the meal we just ate? I don’t think so. And I’ll be sure to notify the company that they’re falling down on the job.”
“Well, they’d need something to toast the blinis, and they might feel that’s a bit much.”
“You think?” He patted the seat beside him. “This baby opens into a bed. A toaster oven shouldn’t be that much more of a demand.”
“I guess not. How long will we have the limo?”
“It’s ours for the night.”
“Then after the ball…” I touched my tongue to my upper lip. “We could ride around and sample the goodies.”
“Works for me.” He shifted on the bench seat to face me, curling a leg under him and opening himself up to me. The material of his trousers stretched tight across his groin, making the bulge of his cock obvious. “All the goodies?”
“All of them.” I rested a hand on his package, and he shivered. His eyes were hot, and he was breathing heavily. As he’d promised, he was hard under my hand, and if I made any move to take him here in the back seat of this limo, he wouldn’t stop me. He’d look well-fucked when I got through with him, and the boys at the Ball would be aware of what we’d done.