Page 32 of Isabela

When I went shopping, I found a pair of black leather pants I couldn’t say no to, and decided on high heeled pointed shoes to give me a little height. As I slowly sip my champagne and look around, I feel appreciative glances and I’m glad I chose this outfit.

My makeup is a purple smokey eye, a little blush, and foundation, while my lips are a natural pink. I’m not hiding any of my tattoos tonight with makeup, my gauges are on display as well, since I left my hair down but swept behind my ears.

I feel powerful and beautiful, and I allow the feeling to sink into my bones as I let my eyes trail over the Victorian looking furniture and pretty wall coverings. They didn’t skip any expense when they designed this club, and it’s beautiful.

I spend the next hour chatting with people, smiling, and actually accepting compliments. There are men with their girlfriends or wives, guys who are chatting solo, and even men with their male significant others.

Everyone I speak to is kind and in a fantastic mood, making me wonder who will pull my key. I would be happy with any of them, because they’re all gorgeous in different ways, even though a couple of the ones I didn’t speak to appear grumpy and slightly dangerous.

I’m taking another glass of champagne from a waitress, feeling a little buzzed but happy, when I look across the room and see the last person I’d ever expect to see.

Dr. Murphy smiles down at a blonde, but I can’t see anything else from where I’m standing. Fate isn’t seriously this twisted, is it?

My breaths come a bit faster as I close my eyes for a moment. It’s okay, I’m okay. It doesn’t matter that he’s here, because this event is advertised to be selective, with an iron clad nondisclosure agreement. I’m here to shed the quiet little mouse, the girl who hides, even as she tells the world to go fuck itself with her appearance.

Today, my outside gets to match who I wish my insides could be. Opening my eyes, I gasp when I see his moss green eyes staring at me. They look softer than they usually appear when he talks to me.

Instead, they’re typically dark and stormy because I’m pissing him off. Dr. Murphy’s tousled blond hair looks really sexy tonight, and I can see he’s wearing a black button down shirt with a dark blue suit jacket. Leaning forward, I see him speak in the blonde’s ear who starts to turn around.

Gulping in air, I turn away, reminding myself that I want to stay. This is my chance to see what sex is about. Shit. Do I need to tell the person who draws my key that I’m a virgin? Is that… a thing?

Or can I keep my own damn counsel because it’s none of their damn business? Taking a small sip of champagne to help settle my nerves, I decide on the latter.

“This isn’t somewhere I thought I’d see you,” Dr. Murphy murmurs, his lips pressed to the shell of my ear. At my jump, he chuckles darkly. “Full of surprises, huh?”

“No one tells their college professor all of their innermost thoughts and secrets, much less any of their sexual fantasies,” I retort. Whatever happens within these walls stays here.

“So you have sexual fantasies, possibly about me. Good to know,” he murmurs. “Have you met my wife, Aria?”

Blinking, I turn around to see the pretty blonde I chatted about dark romance with. “You’re shitting me,” I whisper.

Her eyes widen in excitement and then worry. “Is this your Isabel?” she asks carefully.

“I am not his anything, Aria,” I tell him, pressing my lips together. “I’m just his ex-student.”

“Wait… let’s back up,” Dr. Murphy murmurs thoughtfully. “This is Isabela Cohen, love. Do you know her?”

“Yes, I ran into her a couple of times on campus,” she says with an open smile. “We shared a bench together the first time, when I had been running around all day and starving before I came to see you at the office. The next time I saw her was a few days ago, actually. I was trying to work through some writer’s block the day I brought you lunch.”

“Did any of it help?” I ask with a small smile. Even if Dr. Murphy spoke about me, I am pretty sure Aria couldn’t remember my name.

“It did,” she says, reaching out and squeezing my hand. I feel sparks of electricity, and struggle not to show it. Dr. Murphy watches us closely, looking bemused. “The fuckers are finally talking to me now that I’m willing to listen.”

I burst out laughing at her words, shaking my head to attempt to explain. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you, Aria,” I giggle. “You just say whatever you think.”

Dr. Murphy shrugs as he brushes back one of the curls threatening to curl into her mouth. “Aria doesn’t possess a ‘give a fuck’ button,” he explains. “Honestly, I don’t really either, so it’s perfect.”

“You ask me to give a lot of fucks that I would rather not give,” I shoot back. I’m still holding Aria’s hand, so I squeeze it gently before letting go. Dr. Murphy notices and gives me a warm smile that makes my insides feel funny.

I don’t know what to make of him. “Dr. Murphy?—”

“Gael,” he interrupts me. “I don’t think it’s necessary for you to call me anything else tonight, do you?”

“You confuse me,” I say honestly.

“He has a habit of doing that, Isabela,” Aria says with an open smile. “We’re all here to enjoy ourselves. We may as well do exactly that.”

I open my mouth to say something, anything, but an attractive older man with a broad chest, wearing a black shirt jogs up onto the stage with a smile.

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