Chapter Twenty-Five

Alfie

The last three months have been a whirlwind of work and play that has rocked my world because all of it revolves around Stephanie. She’s only left my house a few times to grab things from her apartment and do personal business. Otherwise, we’ve spent almost every waking—and sleeping—minute together.

She’s thrown herself into the concert, working tirelessly to get passports and organize a thousand moving parts on both sides of this continent, as well as all the way in Ysaria. She worked withPotentate Velorian’s assistant, Vashik, who knew just how to use the ruler’s contacts in Washington to obtain special dispensation for the group to leave the country.

Vashik suggested that as long as we were going to be in that part of the world, we might as well schedule a few more concerts. Although it blew my mind, Steph convinced me to agree.

“All you’ll have to do is show up on stage and play for two hours. I’ll do the heavy lifting of booking concert halls, working with the third-world equivalent of Ticketmaster, and tidying up one or two thousand loose ends. Don’t worry your pretty little head.”

What choice did I have but to go along with the idea? Besides, the guys in the band were so thrilled at the idea that I couldn’t say no.

My relationship with Steph has grown deeper every day as I trust her, not just with my business, but with my heart. She deserves a treat, and although it’s taken me a week to organize it, tonight’s the night.

I take one last look in the mirror, rearrange my shirt’s black collar over my vintage white polyester disco suit, and head across the hall, hoping this surprise will bring a smile to Steph’s beautiful face.

“Groovy, baby!” I strike a John Travolta disco pose as I barge through Stephanie’s office door.

“Far out!” After that, she’s speechless for a moment as she checks me out, pausing at the way my furry chest peeks out the top of my shirt, which is unbuttoned farther than is currently fashionable.

“You look off the hook!” She’s certainly jumped into the time period without missing a beat.

“I hate to break it to you, honey, but you need to get with the times.” I toss her a shimmery halter top and a pair of bell bottoms.

She shakes her head, but it’s not as a “no,” but in amazement. Although I wasn’t smart enough to plan this part, I do get the benefit of watching as she happily closes her laptop, shucks her clothes, and shimmies into the vintage clothes I bought for her online.

“Wherever did you find these amazing duds?”

“I have my ways,” I say mysteriously, bopping my head to the energetic beat pulsing through the surround sound speakers in the living room. “You’ve been working so hard; you deserve a night of cinema and disco dancing.”

I wink at her. It’s so easy to have fun with Steph.

“So what movie are we watching?” Stephanie asks after skipping down the steps and flopping on the leather couch.

I grab the remote and turn on the movie that’s already cued up. “Only the greatest musical of all time—Grease!”

“Oooh perfect! I should have guessed that when you waltzed into my room looking hipper than Tony Manero.” She claps excitedly. “But first, I’m starving. You’ve got the entertainment planned. Got anything radical for dinner?”

“I made Chicken à la King and my mom’s biscuit recipe… from scratch.” I hope my affection shows in my eyes, or at least by my choice of menu. That was a lot of work.

“How did I fail to notice the luscious smells coming from the kitchen? I didn’t know I was capable of concentrating hard enough to ignore the scent of homemade biscuits.”

“Grab a seat on the patio, and I’ll bring everything out.”

As I dish out a huge portion for me and about twice what I know Stephanie will eat onto her plate, she grabs two bottles of her favorite root beer, which I now love too.

Out on the candlelit patio, strings of fairy lights add to the festive atmosphere. We dig into the comfort food picnic, laughing about our crazy costumes. Well, she’s laughing. The sparkly halter I bought her shows off her breasts to perfect advantage, and I’m enjoying the view.

“Mmm, Chicken à la King!” Stephanie moans. “The taste reminds me of childhood, rich and nostalgic. And these hot, buttered biscuits are melting in my mouth. Got any more surprises up those fancy 70s sleeves?”

I grin slyly. “You’ll see!”

For a moment, I consider setting her on the picnic table, yanking down those snazzy bell bottoms, and having my way with her, but I have the night planned. I don’t have to feel too deprived. I have a pretty good idea that the night will end with us naked in bed as it has every night since we first made love.

We hurry back inside for the movie, belting out the songs and playfully throwing popcorn at each other whenever Manero fixes his hair. By the frequency of his primping, I’ll need a trash bag just for the errant popcorn kernels now littering the floor.

As the end credits roll, I spring up. “Don’t move! I have one more surprise.” I rush to the cabinet, and Stephanie’s eyes widen when she sees the stack of vinyl records.

“Is that…”

“A genuine 1970s turntable? You bet your groovy ass it is!” I set it up and slide a record out of its sleeve. The pop and crackle of the vinyl add vintage authenticity as Donna Summer’s velvety voice fills the room.

I reach out a hand to Stephanie. “May I have this dance?”

“I thought you’d never ask!” She sets her palm in mine, and I twirl her close.

My hands encircle her swaying hips as we find our rhythm. Stephanie runs her fingers through the fur on my chest and gazes up at me adoringly. A male could get used to those gorgeous green eyes looking at him as though he hung the moon.

“Have I told you lately that you’re my disco-dancing dream diva?” I murmur in her ear.

She giggles. “Far out!”

“Now let’s see those funky chicken moves!” I say. We break into silly 70s dances until we’re breathless with laughter.

Stephanie snuggles against me. “This was just what we needed—a reminder not to take life so seriously.”

I wrap my arms around her, inhaling the coconut scent of her shampoo. “My thoughts exactly. But I can’t take full credit; it was your love of disco that inspired me.”

“Well, you took it to a whole new level.” She kisses my cheek. “What will we do for an encore?”

I waggle my eyebrows. “I’ve got some ideas involving a shaggy minotaur costume!” Stephanie swats me with a couch pillow, then pulls me in for a lingering kiss.

Tonight couldn’t have gone any better.