Page 86 of Air Affair

This was Hank’s first time at Delmonico’s, and he couldn’t wait to leave. The dark wood-paneled walls of the curious, triangular-shaped space oozed sophistication. The steak had been excellent, the baked Alaska intriguing, and the service superbly snooty. But all he wanted was to be alone with his wife.

He smiled. His wife. That gorgeous woman spinning around the room, charming everyone in sight, was all his. He was stuck at the table, his leg preventing both dancing and mingling, but this evening was never about him. This was her night to shine. He couldn’t begrudge her, even if he was antsy to leave.

For their wedding night, they reserved the same room at the Waldorf where he’d stayed as “Albert Jones” on her birthday. Their honeymoon in Europe, courtesy of Aunt Alva, was postponed until he recovered from his broken leg. Tomorrow, they were headed back to his place, but tonight would be a night to remember.

Some cousin twirled Rory around as her current dance partner. All Hank could do was admire from a distance.

“You look lonely over here, Hank. I’ve come to cheer you up.”

Ma.

Hank smiled.

“Have a seat. Join me. I’m so glad you and Kate were able to come out for the wedding.” Ma was dressed in her finest, complete with a bustle, which was about a decade out of fashion. Nonetheless, she was a good-looking woman for her age and had no lack of interest from the older gentlemen in attendance, not that she paid them any mind.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Never thought you’d marry a swell, but I’m happy for you. You two are the cutest little lovebirds I’ve ever seen.”

“Where’s Kate?”

Ma waved her hand dismissively. “She’s over there somewhere talking to a young woman named Evelyn about suffrage. I’d like to have the right to vote as much as the next woman, but do they have to talk politics at a wedding?”

Hank laughed. Little did Ma know that Evelyn was a force of nature who did as she pleased, much like Rory herself. “There are only so many comments one can make about how lovely the ceremony was. If it makes them happy, they are welcome to it.”

Ma accepted a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. “It was a lovely ceremony. And mercifully short. Was that on purpose?”

“Yes. I may be on the mend, but I can only stand for so long on those crutches.” He was rather proud of himself for making it through the whole thing without incident. It helped that his beautiful bride completely distracted him. She was breathtaking in her dress. It was a bit daring, but then so was Rory. It had sheer sleeves, and sheer fabric dripped down to her ankles, while the satin skirt beneath only reached down to mid-calf. It hugged her shape almost as much as the dress she wore for her birthday. He couldn’t wait to peel it off her.

“I see you can’t keep your eyes off her,” his mother observed. “I can’t blame you. I’m not sure how I feel about that dress. It’s a bit revealing for my taste, but she sure does wear it well.” She took a sip of champagne. “Who is that couple over there? Is that your best man?” she asked, pointing at O’Donnell and Ann Prince. “They look almost as in love as the two of you.”

“Yes, Bill is my best man, and I agree with you. I’m very happy for them.” He’d been watching, and they had danced every dance together so far.

The song finished, and Rory made her way over. “Mrs. Hawley, I’m so glad you’re keeping Hank company for me,” she said. “I think I’ve abandoned him long enough, don’t you?”

Ma smiled and winked. “Goodnight, Hank. I’ll see you tomorrow in Mineola.” She got up and walked in Kate’s direction.

“I think it’s time for us to leave for the Waldorf, don’t you?” Rory said with a conspiratorial smile.

“I do,” he said, standing up on his crutches. Together, they made a grand exit, nodding and waving at everyone as their guests cheered them on.

Her father’s car and driver took them up to the Waldorf, and they hurried up to their room.

Alone at last.

He took off his jacket and vest, removed his cufflinks, and sat down on the bed to remove his one shoe. Then he sat back and watched as Rory pulled pin after pin out of her hair, removing her veil so that she could join him.

Her back was to him, and he had a lovely view of her shapely posterior. She glanced over her shoulder flirtatiously.

“Don’t stop, princess. I was enjoying the view.”

She pulled out the last pin and flourished the lacey confection. “Shall I do the dance of the seven veils for you?” She fluttered her eyelashes and wound the veil around her.

“Come here, you minx. I had a different kind of dancing in mind.”

She sauntered over, letting the veil fall to the floor.

“Then unwrap me,” she said, leaning in and nipping at his ear.

He traced the bare expanse of her back down until he found buttons, and he slipped one after another through its hole, slowly, methodically, nuzzling her neck as he worked. He could smell the faint hint of magnolias on her skin as he kissed and licked. The smell of her was more intoxicating than the finest whiskey.