When I get home, I shower, then towel-dry my hair and shave. My getting-ready routine is simple, but more than anything, I want time to take it slow and sort my thoughts.
As I leave my hair to air-dry before styling it with pomade, I dress in the new suit I ordered for this occasion. It’s classic, simple, but it fits perfectly and serves as an ideal complement to Alessandra’s gown. I finish my hair and dab on a bit of my signature cologne, giving myself one last once-over in the mirror.
I call the limo driver, and he tells me he’ll be in front of my house in five minutes. When the limo arrives, I chat briefly with the driver before climbing into the backseat. It feels strange sitting in the back of a limo alone, but I use the ride as an opportunity to go over my plans for the evening in my mind.
I know from our previous social outings that Alessandra will be fine. I’m not worried about her fitting in and keeping up in conversations in the slightest. We’ll eat good food, drink superb champagne, and schmooze with wealthy socialites. I already know the looks I’ll receive from the other men at the gala, who will most likely assume that Alessandra is one of my escorts, and I can’t wait to revel in their surprise when they learn how accomplished and competent she is.
For as excited as I am to see Alessandra and show her off to a roomful of rich, stuffy people, the thought of our first time being intimate looms large in the back of my mind. Just thinking of it now makes my cock twitch, and I can only imagine how needy it will be by the end of the night.
Before my fantasies can progress any further, the limo pulls up in front of Alessandra’s apartment. I climb out of the backseat and walk to her door, my stomach churning as I ring the doorbell. I feel a little silly for feeling so nervous, but I can’t help it. I’ve been eager to see her all day, and now that it’s finally happening, I can’t contain my excitement.
Within moments, the door opens and she’s standing in front of me.
Holy fuck. She looks even more gorgeous than I ever thought possible.
The gown fits her perfectly, the beaded bodice hugging her shapely breasts just right so the rest of the fabric can cascade gently over her body. Her dark, luxurious hair is pulled back into a neat bun, leaving a few curls to fall gracefully around her face. She’s absolutely stunning.
I stare at her for a few seconds too long, my mouth slightly open, and only a soft “ahem” from Alessandra pulls me out of my stupor.
“I’m sorry.” I run my hand over my face. “I don’t even know what to say.”
Alessandra steps out onto the stoop, closing the door behind her. Her eyes are wide and frantic, and she immediately begins patting at her hair.
“Don’t know what to say in a good way, right? I’ve never worn anything this fancy. I can’t tell if it’s working or if I look freaking ridiculous,” she says in a rush, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.
I chuckle softly and take her hand in mine. “You look perfect.” Our eyes meet, and she gives me a grateful smile. “More than perfect, actually. Every woman at this thing will hate you.”
“Shut up,” she says, laughing and playfully hitting my stomach. “Wait, are you serious? Is it too much?”
“Rilassati,” I whisper, leaning down to place a soft kiss on her cheek. Relax. “You’ll only stand out in the sense that you’ll be the most beautiful woman there.”
Alessandra lifts her chin and places her lips on mine. When we part, I beat her to the joke we usually share. “We better stop before your lipstick gets all over us.”
She laughs and playfully hits me again.
“Shall we?” I offer my arm. She loops her hand gently through it, and the two of us make our way to the limo.
The ride to the gala goes by faster than I anticipated. Alessandra and I spend the whole time talking, first about our work week, and then about, well, everything. Talking with her is one of my favorite things to do.
After tonight, however? I have a feeling I’ll discover a new favorite thing to do with her.
When we arrive at the venue, she loops her arm through mine again, and the two of us make our grand entrance together. The gala is planned by one of our clients, so I give Alessandra a quick rundown of who we’ll be mingling with for the evening. She nods along silently, and I can’t help but notice how much calmer she looks in this moment than she did when I was telling her about my brothers. She’s a fast learner, and I can already tell she’ll be an amazing date.
Once inside the ballroom, we pause to survey the room. A waiter walks by with a tray of champagne, and Alessandra and I each take a flute. We gently clink glasses and take a sip.
“This is the best champagne I’ve ever had in my life,” she whispers, looking at me with wide, approving eyes.
I smile. “I’ve had better.”
Alessandra smiles back, poking her elbow into my ribs. Before she can give me her witty response, I make eye contact with one of our clients, who waves us over to him.