Page 24 of Amethyst

9

MAX

It’s Saturday evening.

I hired a professional housekeeper to clean my place. I want it perfect for Jenna. I don’t want it smelling likesingle man—a term Mimi coined. She said my place smells likesingle man. I never could tell what she meant. To me, it smelled the same as her place—like Ivory soap and the remnants of last night’s dinner.

Now it smells like cinnamon and cloves from the spices the housekeeper simmered while she was here.

Jenna is coming here. I wanted to pick her up, but then I decided not to make the offer.

This isn’t a date, and I’ll do well to remember that.

I can’t get caught up in my love for her. This is a service I’m providing. Simply a service. That’s the way she sees it, and I must not lose sight of that.

I did take the liberty of preparing a small meal—a simple shrimp cocktail and a green salad. She won’t want to feel bloated. Does she still like Chardonnay?

It used to be her favorite wine. Not that either of us had a lot of experience with alcohol back then, but Susanna loved Chardonnay, and she sometimes let Jenna drink a tiny cordial glass on the weekends. An oaky one from California is chilling. It will go well with the shrimp and salad.

Will we eat? Or will Jenna want to jump right into…the service I’m providing?

If that’s the case, that’s what we’ll do. This is for her. I love her, and I’ll do anything I can to help her. The fact that I’m preparing her to have sex with other men is squeezing the life out of my heart, but I’ll deal.

That’s how much this woman means to me.

Then a knock on the door.

I open it, and before me stands a goddess.

My breath catches.

She’s wearing the prom dress.

Jenna is wearing her prom dress. Not only is it a gorgeous light violet, but it sparkles with sequins, and it stretches over her body, leaving very little to the imagination. It hugs her hips, nips in at her waist, and curves over her breasts showing just enough cleavage to make my cock take notice.

Oh, hell. My cock would take notice if Jenna were wearing a paper bag.

I’m not sure how long I stand gaping before she says, “Have I truly rendered you speechless?”

“I’m sorry. Come on in. I didn’t expect you to be wearing…that.”

“I never got to wear it that night. Can you believe it? It still fits.”

“Indeed it does.” I force myself not to stare at her boobs.

My cock is already responding. Not that I imagined it wouldn’t.

“You look good,” she says.

“I should be wearing a tux.”

I dressed down on purpose. Old jeans, a blue-and-white striped button-down untucked, bare feet. I haven’t shaved in a few days, and I didn’t put any product in my hair.

I hate product anyway. Mimi liked it, so I used it.

Now I’m done.

Still, I should have put in more effort. This is the woman I love, after all, and dressing down doesn’t change that.

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