I had Michael Fassbender in my head as Mr. Skylar all along. So he's definitely my inspiration.
The Birthday Party at
the Skylar Mansion
I wore the sexiest dress I could find.
It was black, short and skin tight.
When I drove up to the massive wrought iron gate, that seemed to
stretch sky high, the usually desolate mansion was crowded with cars and the cacophony
of jovial partygoers. Laughter, glasses clinging, banter.
As the valet took my car, a convertible Beetle I just purchased
and felt ‘high on the hog’ with my purchase until I saw the rows upon rows of
BMW, Mercedes Benz, Ferraris that abounded the parking lot where the friendly
valet was driving my 2008 Volkswagen.
After I had a mild moment of self-pity, I snapped myself out
of it, thought to myself I worked hard for that damn beetle-bug and noticed how
the estate had been transformed from gray, dreary and drab to bright and full
of fire and life.
I also saw, as I went through those massive oak double doors,
that every single human being around me was of such exceptional beauty I felt
like a muted weed in a sea of color. Every
woman oozed sex and every man was ogled at the curves and found clever ways to
touch them during conversations that warranted to physical contact. The long
and short of it…the women were dripping with sexuality.
As hard as I tried to make myself into a sexual beauty, I
felt overshadowed by those creatures of passion. I definitely considered myself
to be an attractive girl for just turning thirty. My recent life milestones had
made me thrive with a recent spike of confidence, which gave me a sudden spike
of confidence in my life, but seeing this flock of delicate seductresses, made
me second guess what I was bringing to the table…and this party.
A servant wearing all black offered me a tray of champagne.
Cristal, of course. I sipped and felt the bubbles tickle my nose. I guess if I
got drunk enough, I wouldn’t feel so inadequate.
I thought as I chugged the tiny flute like a glass and
placed it back on the tray while grabbing another. The music playing was
classical jazz from the 30’s, which fit the theme of debauchery and glamour.
The inside of Skylar Manor had been transformed into a decedent,
almost Gatsby-like affair. The swarms of people around me conversing with each
other made me feel even more isolated.
So…I people-watched.
I walked slowly from room to room, observing the guests who
were lucky enough to have been invited to such a soirée.
I wasn’t sure if an impeccable body was a pre-requisite to
be here, but walking around I definitely got my eye-full.
As I did my rounds, walking into the next room, remarkably
designed with lush, expensive furnishings, I noticed the women were starting to
get more drunk and flirtatious with both their dates and other women
party-guests.
Men whispered closely to women while the women caressed the men’s
shirts and twisted their ties in their diamond soaked fingers.
For two hours, I continued to drink and to get more
depressed at how this had panned out compared to my expectations. I expected
Mr. Skylar to walk me around and show me off to his guests and business
associates. From the recent events that had unfolded and the sexual tension I
had been battling when in the same room as him, I had seen this night turning
out differently in my head. Fucking expectations. They get you every time. It’s
amazing how what we see in our heads in regards to upcoming events, so very
seldom end up being close in comparison.
Where was the man of the night? The birthday boy. Where was
Mr. Skylar?
I seemed to be the only one noticing that the host and guest
of honor was M.I.A. The party-goers seemed oblivious to his absence as they
danced and flirted.
I stopped into a hallway and checked myself in a mirror and
re-applied my lip gloss in a huge mirror. I took about 5 seconds to notice the
design of this mirror as it was framed with a large iron frame that made a very
mosaic structure that puzzled me.
My hair and makeup had help up beautifully through the
events of the evening. Thank God. I noticed commotion as people were moving
outside toward the lake. The terrace outside was twinkling with lights and
candles which made the lake mimic a Christmas tree the way it was lit up.
I hung back as I watched a drunken woman wearing a nude
dress with a plunging neckline slur to her companion, “He’s supposed to be here
any minute. Why the fuck does he always show up at the end of these things, I mean,
it’s his fucking party, you’d think you’d want to enjoy it.”
My friends and I, had I any at this event, would deem this
woman a “hot mess”.
I knew that all the beautiful and interesting people around,
my presence was neither required nor desired by Mr. Skylar or anyone else.
I backed away and put my head down to sulk back to my car
and sleep off this buzz.
Just then a hand grabbed mine from behind me, almost from
the darkness, and there in front of me was Mr. Skylar in all his glory.
Sleek, elegant, handsome, and sexy. No surprise there. I’d
been admiring and obsessing about him for the 6 weeks since I began working as
his household coordinator. The surprise at this moment was that he had taken my
hand and was holding it with both of his hands near his chest, looking
square into my eyes. “I’m so glad you could make it tonight. I usually never
even show up to these things, but I did a quick scan and saw you walking
around, not mingling, and thought I’d made my presence known to my guests. Care
to escort me around for a bit?”
“Sh..sure.” I sloshed out, half stunned. half buzzed.
I was so stunned; I let him walk me into the sea of people
who were all chomping at the bit for a moment with Mr. Skylar, the man of the
hour. I could hear the volume of the crowd amplify and get more excitable as
Mr. Skylar made his presence known.
He walked around shaking hands, doing the regular meet and
greet chit-chat. People’s eyes lit up when he was conversing with them. Not
once did he let go of my hand and not once did he NOT introduce me. “This is
Tristan, the newest addition to my team.” That introduction was a tad vague and
made my head spin with the inner workings of that title. But the fact that he was
holding my hand, occasionally squeezing or patting it against his thigh, made
me squeal like a teenager on the inside.
After around thirty minutes, he led me back to the mansion,
where we weaved through the crowd who were all attempting to stop him to wish
him Happy Birthday. We made it through the myriad of now drunk party-goers,
sweaty and sloppy from over indulgence, and he then led me through a small door
to a set of stairs. ‘Do you want to get away from these people with me for a
bit?”
I nodded and with my hand still held tight, he let me up a
flight of marble steps into a grey hallway. I hadn’t been in the part of the
mansion before as my duties had been mostly kept in the ‘mirror room’ as I call
it as it’s completely draped with mirrors. Once we got to a set of double
doors, he led me through. I couldn’t have been more exhilarated. This was Mr.
Skylar’s bedroom.
There was a flat screen TV hung up on the wall. Probably the
biggest I’d ever seen. His bed had the look of a wooden sleigh, mahogany wood.
It was epic. Looked like something literally ‘fit for a king’.
“I have these parties but at the same time, I usually
instantly regret having them because I just want everyone to leave. It’s all
about networking so I go with it.”
“I enjoyed myself. I got a nice little buzz going.” I
giggled. Trying to make light of the situation. Again that sexual tension,
mixed with the tingly buzz I had, was making me wet and kind of embarrassed.
Mr. Skylar approached me, intense and passionate, and put
one hand up to my ear and tugged my hair behind it. He stared into my eyes and
then I saw him looking at my lips. My stomach dropped with the nerves that
occur the few moments before that first kiss with someone you’ve been lusting
for. It reminds me of the feeling of a weightless stomach during a
roller-coaster ride. A helpless ping in your stomach that is exciting and adrenaline-raising.
His lips came to mine and at first I gave a sweet soft kiss,
but my damn jittery stomach along with the feeling that this could be my one and
only first impression of my kissing abilities, I grabbed Mr. Skylar’s hair in
my hands, stood on my tip-toes and gave it all I had…in a kissing sense. I
opened my mouth, touched my tongue with his, felt his wet lips sucking at
mine. I always loved the sound of the breath of the person you’re kissing. It’s
such an intimate sound. Then I found my hands moving up his chest, to his arms
to his back, his hair. I don’t know what came over me. I think I couldn’t
control what my hands were doing because they were acting on the signal of my
brain, which was on passion-overload. I wanted
this kiss to continue until it ended in a post-fuck snuggle in his huge sleigh bed. I wanted this
kiss to seamlessly transition into him being on top of me and me taking all of
him in.
...to be continued
...to be continued
