“Are you going to hurt her?”
“No, ma’am,” I say, shaking my head. I still have a feeling she’s going to hurt me. I keep that thought to myself though. It’s a fear I have. Daisy’s been closed off. She’s held back even though I’ve pushed. She’s going into this relationship with an advantage over me. I’m a public figure but she’s an enigma.
“You’ll find Daisy in Three C, but if you hurt her...” She trails off, pointing her cane at me and huffing before walking down the street. I nod to the driver that I’m okay as I step inside the building. The hall smells like urine and there are kids screaming at the end of the hall. A wooden staircase is off to the right, with built in mailboxes on the left. I walk down the hall, hoping the elevator is in service, but as my luck would have it, it’s not today.
“Three flights of stairs in a tux, no problem.” I take the steps two at time. The second floor gives me a long hallway to walk down before I have to climb the next set of steps. This floor smells better, but is messy. There are toys in the hallway and one resident has their door decorated for the holidays, which are still eight months away.
When I reach the third floor I stand straighter and fix my bow tie. I hate that I’m empty-handed and should’ve asked my mom what to bring that wouldn’t be considered stupid and over the top. My stroll to her door is casual with my hands in my pockets to help control the twitching.
The black C is mocking me as I stand in front of it, poised to knock. My knuckles wrap on the door twice before I lean against the doorjamb, trying to play it cool. A flash of black catches my eye as the door swings open. I swallow hard when Daisy stands before me, as the fingers in my pocket pinch the shit out of my leg, trying to make my mouth work.
I stand up straight and take her in. Her blonde hair is pulled up, and I’m not talking piled on top of her head. It’s in big curls like my grandma used to wear in her heyday. Daisy’s cheeks are rosy, with her lips painted red. Her black dress sits somewhat off her shoulder and just below her knees and she’s finished off her ensemble with red high heels.
“You look…”
“Like a pin-up model?”
I catch her eyes and immediately look at her lips again. I feel myself getting hard just picturing her red lips wrapped around my cock.
“Fuck me,” I say as I try discreetly to adjust myself. She catches the action, but doesn’t have to say anything because the smirk is enough. She knows she turns me on.
“Daisy, you look fucking stunning.” This time she knows I’m serious as her cheeks darken. “You’re a classic beauty and I’m so honored to have you on my arm tonight.”
“This old thing,” she says as she brushes her hands down the front of her dress.
“I don’t care if it’s brand new, vintage or what – the fact is, you’re gorgeous and I’m going to have to fight every man as they try to get your attention.”
“Are you up for the challenge?”
I step into her apartment and place my hand on her waist. I bend only slightly, her heels making our height difference less of a challenge, and whisper into her ear. “If it means I get you all to myself, I’m up for anything.” I brush against her dress so she knows what I’m talking about. I don’t miss the sharp intake of air she takes either.
“Who’s at the door, Daisy?”
Daisy steps out of my hold and looks at me quickly before answering. “My friend, Papa. Remember, I told you I was going to dinner.”
“I need to meet him and make sure he’s a respectable young man.”
“Shit,” I mutter as I look down at my semi. I start filtering images though my head of the nastiest things I can while Daisy has my hand in her hers and is pulling me into the other room.
Her living room is decorated like everyone else’s with artwork and pictures on the wall. There’s a television in the corner with a love seat and recliner along the wall. Her grandfather sits in the recliner with his wheelchair next to him. Just by looking at it, I can tell it’s old and probably doesn’t function properly.
“Papa, this is my friend, Ethan. Ethan, this is my grandfather, John.”
I step forward and shake his hand. I have no doubt, that in his prime, he had a firm handshake and I make sure to show him that I do too. It’s a sign of a confident man, according to my father, and I want her grandfather to know that’s what I am.
“It’s great to meet you, sir.”
“I know you,” he says in a thick Boston accent. “You’re behind in homeruns if you think you’re going to be voted in for the derby. Don’t they have you practicing?”
I step back, not entirely shocked that he knows me, but more that he’s hounding me about my percentage. “I’ll work on those at bats, sir.”
“Be good to my Daisy, she’s fragile and the only woman who loves me enough to put up with my cranky ass.”
“I plan to take very good care of her.” When I say the words I’m looking directly at her so she knows I’m serious. She looks away and for the life of me I can’t figure out why. It’s not that I want her to fall at my feet and profess her undying love, but I want her to trust me. It makes me wonder who has hurt her in the past to make her like this.
“Sir, we have to go, but it was very nice meeting you.” I shake his hand again and this time I feel him put a little more strength into it.
“Someday, I’ll see you play live.”
“I’d like that,” I tell him as Daisy motions for me to go to the door.
Daisy says her goodbyes and meets me out front, shutting the door behind her. Right now would be the perfect time to kiss her, but I want to do it after she blows out the candles on her cake tonight.
I may be biased but if that’s the case, I’m okay with having that title. Everywhere I look, men are staring in my direction. I’m a confident man; I know I’m good looking, but they’re not looking at me. No, these fuckers that I have to play nice with tonight have their eyes focused on Daisy. I don’t blame them. She’s fucking hot. She’s the hottest woman in the room and everyone knows it.
From the minute we walked in, men have drooled from a distance while the women have flocked to her. You would think that she’s famous or the honoree tonight, but that’s not the case. In fact, the honoree, who will be sitting at our table tonight, has barely even been spoken to. To me, that proves one thing: These women are motivated by their jealousy and only befriending Daisy to keep her away from their husbands, which shouldn’t a problem since she came with me.
Every lady in here looks the same, except for Daisy, with their long gowns and hair piled on top of their heads. She stands out among the drab and tired old looks, and has something that these women could only dream of pulling off. I know this because the lady next to me won’t stop yammering away about how she wishes she could pull off the fifties look.
For the first time in a long time, I’m not the one talking. I’m not the focus of attention. I’m not sure how I feel about that, but am happy to play the supportive role for Daisy, although the constant fashion talk is boring as fuck.
I’ve also yet to wish her a happy birthday. That fact alone makes me feel like a complete ass. I had a plan when we walked in, I was going to lead her to the bar and buy her first legal drink. I was going to give a toast and then wish her happy birthday.
When dinner is about to be served, I place my hand on her waist and nudge her in my direction. She understands my hint and excuses herself from the conversation. I lead us over to the bar and while we wait, I look down to find a smiling, radiant Daisy.
“Are you having fun?”
“Yes and no,” she says, causing confusion. She stands closer to me, pulling me down slightly to speak into my ear. “I’m having fun because I’m with you, but those women are talking about things I don’t have any clue about and it’s hard to play along.”