By Micki L. Bailey

My thirtieth birthday is Sunday, and I swear I don’t feel like wasting any precious "worrying" energy on that crap Vinnie said last night, she thought.

What had Vinnie been thinking when he said those things? She was sure he hadn’t been drinking before he came over. And he wasn’t inclined to intentionally wound someone.

Vinnie was actually a very kind-hearted person when he was around, and had always been overly supportive of her in this now two-year-old relationship she had with his pal, Roger Lococco. So what could his agenda/motive possibly have been with those biting words?

To hell with it, she told herself. Everything he had said concerned ancient history – stuff about Roger from long before she had found him. Nothing worth fretting over now.

Be gone, cruel thoughts! she screamed at them in her head. Get away from me! You have no power here!

Vinnie, who was currently "off assignment" for the OCB and in town for a while, had come to the loft the night before to have dinner with her and Roger. He’d been jovially mysterious as to whether or not he would bring a date. But, as was the case most of the time, he arrived alone, bottle of wine in hand and smiling.

She stood in the kitchen finishing up small cooking details as he stepped off the elevator and walked over. He was the only other person in the universe Roger had trusted with the entry code to the loft. Besides her, of course.

"Hey, gorgeous. What’s cooking? No, wait………That didn’t rhyme," he said as he set the wine bottle on the bar.

"Greetings, Mr. Terranova. You’re looking pretty damn eye-catching there yourself. Where’s your mystery date?"

And, oh, he did look fine. He wore tight black jeans over black boots, a royal blue T-shirt, and a worn black leather jacket. His black hair, combed slickly in its patented Elvis style, was perfect.

He winked. "Thought I’d just share YOU with Roga this evening."

"Yeah." She laughed. "And YOU, my dear, can be the one to clue him in on this little arrangement too. You want something to drink?"

Sitting on a bar stool, Vinnie grinned and said, "C’mon now………You just don’t know………Me and your loving husband useta share alotta………things………in the past……..somma them warm and breathing………and blonde."

She looked up at him, briskly. Curtly. "You wanna beer or not, Vinnie? Or, if you’d like, I can open this lovely wine you were kind enough to bring."

He chuckled and looked around the room. "A beer’s good………Where IS Roga, by the way."

"He had to go and check on one of those warehouse buildings he owns in the Highlands neighborhood. There was a watermain break nearby. He’ll be back soon, so keep your damn pants on." She smirked at him playfully and handed him a Tecate.

"Whadaya got to worry ‘bout now, babe? You’ve landed ‘im. He’s all yours. What’s the big deal with hearing ‘bout his notorious exploits?"

She checked her volatile temper and then directed a pointed glare at her dinner guest. "Well, since you’re so freaking determined to tell me, Vinnie, I guess I’ve got no choice. Fire away. I might warn you, though, that Roger’s already told me tons ‘bout the past. I’m not totally naïve."

He chuckled again, as if concealing a motherload of dark secrets. "He tell you ‘bout the day we met? ’Bout those three beauties his boss sent ‘im for fun? The girls from Sweden or somewhere that he was generous enough to let me in on, so to speak, since I’d barged into his life that morning?"

She cringed and didn’t try to hide it from him. "He mentioned them. But I wasn’t keen on getting details, if ya know what I mean."

"Ah, doll……..now THAT was some kinda initiation. Lemme tell ya………….Blew my mind…….And here was Roga acting like it was nothing unusual………..like he got laid by three gorgeous whores at one time every otha day or something……..Not that he needed a boss to send ‘im women………He did just fine on his own." Another small chuckle.

She set some brie and crackers up on the bar and glared at him, her eyes shooting out flames. "Are you smoking crack or something, Vinnie? WHY are you telling me all this? What the hell good is it supposed to do me? Huh? Or are ya just trying to piss me off"

Vinnie tossed his head back and laughed. "Just having a little fun withya, sweetheart. That’s all……..Just giving ya a little inside on your husband’s former glamorous lifestyle……stuff he was used to and around constantly……….You know………The finest cars, the hottest women, the coolest guns – the fast lane all the way—"

"Stop it, why don’tcha, Vinnie! Okay?" She hadn’t quite lost her calm inside, but it was obviously slipping.

Vinnie looked surprised. "Sorry, babe. Didn’t know you were so sensitive."

"About my husband’s former sex life? I’m not expected to get at least a little riled when I’m force-fed that crap?" Her eyes widened as she tried to control her tone.

"Okay, okay……….Let’s forgeteboudit………Your boy’s done with all that now anyway. He’s got you, and he said that’s all he needs."

"Don’t try to talk sweet to me now, Vinnie. It ain’t working," she snarled.

He laughed again. "Honestly, hon. Roga says you’re the best thing that evah happened to him."

"Yeah, whatever. Thanks, though, for the oh-so-subtle refresher course on his old, ‘glamorous’ days. You’re a real pal."

Vinnie softened his voice and his expression. He leaned closer to her. "I said I’m sorry……..I was just joking ‘round. Really."

Then she brightened, convincing herself the whole situation was petty and inconsequential. "No large deal…….I’ll keep ‘im no matter what he useta do………..I like ‘im the way he is now." She smiled and picked up some brie with a cracker.

"What’s he got planned for your big bday this weekend?"

"You tell me. I have no idea," she said.

Vinnie drank some beer and shook his head. "If I knew, babe, I wouldn’t tell ya. He’d kill me. Literally."

Roger had come home shortly after that, and the remainder of the tiny dinner party had progressed smoothly enough. Neither she nor Vinnie told Roger what they had discussed before he returned. He would have simply shrugged it off anyway, she knew, not caring to be bothered with "things that don’t matter."

Later that night, she lay snuggled next to Roger in bed and listened to him breathe. He stroked her bare back with his fingers.

"That was the best Shrimp Creole I ever had, baby," he said quietly.

"And you’ve probably had it all over the world, huh?" It was out before she could control it. She bit her tongue and hoped she hadn’t sounded bitter.

"Well, let’s see………In New Orleans for sure, down in the French Quarter………and in some little joint in Paris……….oh, and Baton Rouge……..But none of that topped yours…….I swear."

No, he hadn’t detected any double meaning in her words. Good. It wasn’t his fault that she was still a little bothered by Vinnie’s reminiscing. Why couldn’t she talk her psyche into just letting it go?

"Thanks, honey. I thought I went a little overboard with those red pepper flakes."

He wrapped his arms around her then and kissed her head. "Ah, that’s what I liked ‘bout it,……..the fire." His hands roamed over her body warmly and familiarly, making her tingle.

"The fire, hmmmm?" It was more of a moan against his chest than actual words.

Roger raised up a little and moved his body over her, easily pulling her down under him. "Yesss," he hissed in the dark. "And I know you got more fire down below………….You got me hot already."

As he lowered himself onto her, she caressed his chest and shoulders, anxiously accepting his mouth when it made contact with hers. She kissed his bottom lip and felt his hardness pressing into her corresponding softness.

He returned her kisses hungrily, going over her lips, cheeks and neck as he gently pulled off her panties with one hand. Then he slid his fingers into the torrid wetness between her legs, and she groaned and arched against his hand.

No longer was she bothered by anything as he slithered down her now-pulsating body, pausing to lick and suck spots he knew were particularly sensitive – each of her nipples and under her breasts, her stomach, and her inner thighs. When he finally put his mouth on her moist mound and dipped into the seething lava inside with his tongue, she buckled on the bed and cried out.

But he was persistent and held her down as he probed and darted his tongue, flickering back and forth, again and again unmercifully, lapping at the juices he was creating. She couldn’t take much of his mouth on her most vulnerable spot; the passion built up and up into an shattering crescendo, and she exploded, writhing and moaning.

Then she felt him kiss his way back up her body to her face, lying on her and bringing one of his hands up under her ass. As she ran her fingers through his damp hair, he gently pushed into her still-throbbing nook with a quiet groan.

They made love as lovers do, slowly but feverishly, touching and tasting each other’s body in the darkness, needing no light, mingling their salty perspiration, savoring the delicious mounting excitement between them. Then, as Roger sped up his thrusting and she welcomed his every blow, the urgent sensation peaked in both of them, and they were consumed with a fiery, blinding detonation.

She clutched the sheets under her as another orgasm tore through her and heard him groan against her neck. Then, holding him, she felt small trembles throughout his body as he emptied himself inside her. She squeezed him tightly with her inner muscles for every last drop and heard him groan again.

He still rested on her afterwards, both of them panting, their hearts racing and eventually slowing back down to normal. She kissed his wet hair and caressed his back, feeling his breath on her chest.

"I love you, baby," he whispered. And she smiled.

"Me too, Roger. More than anything."

They had fallen asleep in almost that same position, and she had not given anymore thought to the unpleasantness of what Vinnie had said. Roger’s past was just that -- his past. And she was comforted inside by reassuring herself that she was his future. Hadn’t he told her that?

Now, the next day, she found herself smiling again at the memory of their love-making. Gentle, sweet, and affectionate. Soulful. Oh, so lovely.

So why was she letting the nagging thoughts about "the finest cars, the hottest women, the coolest guns – the fast lane all the way" and "got laid by three gorgeous whores at one time every other day or something" get on her nerves now? Wasn’t she being ridiculous?

Absolutely.

And it was time to cut it out of her mind right now. "Forgeteboudit." Absolutely.

She was who Roger had chosen to grow old with, the one he returned home to every night. They were a union, a team. "Let no man put asunder." Absolutely.

* * *

He refused to tell her where they were going. Simply refused.

"Ahh, now that’s classified intelligence, my love," he had said softly with a hint of a smile as he held open the door of his BMW for her that evening.

"C’mon, Roger. Why all the melodrama? I’ll be able to guess which restaurant it is soon enough anyway."

"Knock yourself out with the guessing, baby," he said, sliding into the driver’s seat beside her and laying his hand on her thigh. "’Cause you ain’t getting our destination outta me………And did I tell ya how fine you look tonight?"

She turned her head to glance at him and caught his eyes scanning down her body. So she waited ‘til they returned to her face.

"You’re making me nervous, Roger."

He started up the car and feigned surprise. "Nervous? You? But that’s precisely why I married you, hon, ‘cause you’re the one person on Earth I can’t seem to intimidate."

"Don’t make fun of me, damn you. It’s my birthday. Seems only fair that I be exempt from your arrogant sarcasm on THIS of all days."

Roger laughed his quiet laugh. "Three decades………Whew! My lover’s gettin’ on up there in years!"

"Still not as ‘up there’ as you, smartass."

"But you’re catching up fast, baby."

"Fuck you, Roger."

"Gladly." She didn’t turn, but she felt him looking over at her. "I already told ya how ravishing you look in that naughty black lace. You got anything on up under there?" He was using his velvety bedroom voice.

"Where’re we going?"

He chuckled again. "To celebrate, sweetheart. To celebrate."

Simply refused. He was beautifully stubborn.

As they drove out of the city and headed northward, she steadied her nerves and waited. Roger had something big up his sleeve – she was sure of it. A surprise he’d kept under wraps and out of her sight all week. Even Vinnie, normally her ally, was totally silent.

The only clue she had to go on came that morning when Roger had casually suggested that she "wear something nice" to dinner that evening. They had been drinking coffee and reading the Sunday papers in bed. Like any Sunday.

"So we’re going to dinner?" she had asked him.

He looked up over the sports page. "Of course…….You think we’re gonna spend your big three-oh stuck here in the loft?"

Her mouth turned up slightly, and her eyes narrowed. "But what if that’s my only birthday wish? To spend the whole damn day in the sack with you?"

"Ahh, but we gotta eat sometime, baby. Can’t live on love alone." He raised his eyebrows and smiled.

"So where’d you have in mind to eat, Roger?"

"How does Shoney’s sound?"

"Sounds like a place you can check out by yourself and tell me ‘bout afterwards."

He laughed. "Just put on something kinda fancy………I’ll take care of the rest."

Yes, yes. She had no doubt at all that he would "take care of the rest" very well indeed. But, like a little kid at Christmas, she felt overly anxious about what "the rest" might turn out to be. She had no idea about what to expect, and it was driving her a little mad.

Then, as they drove further outside the city, a bright light fell onto the situation for her. On at least one aspect of it.

"Are we headed for Lauren’s, Roger?" Her voice was full of breath and energy. "That’s the only place up here! It’s got to be Lauren’s!"

Roger watched the road ahead and smiled. "Yes, baby. It’s Lauren’s. Nothing but the best."

She hurriedly turned to him. "How’d you manage to swing reservations there, honey? They’re ALWAYS booked to the max! For months!"

Now his smile morphed gracefully into a more sly expression. "Don’t worry ‘bout it. It’s taken care of."

Lauren’s, as most dining-out people knew, was tops in the city. Constantly earning critical accolades and winning foodie awards on a national level, it was unequaled with its brilliant menu, its excellent service, and its gorgeous sprawling view of Lake Sydney on which it sat. Although it comfortably seated about 500 guests at one sitting, reservations were usually required months in advance.

And now her "loving husband" was treating her to a celebratory dinner at this elegant, legendary place. Somehow he’d wrangled the elusive table. She squeezed his hand excitedly as they walked together to the front door.

"Honey, you musta pulled some major strings for this. Who do you know even remotely connected to this place?"

She barely heard him laugh. "No strings pulled……..I just made a simple seven o’clock reservation, baby. That’s all."

Still slightly giddy, even for a thirty-year-old, she said nothing else as they stepped inside.

On the surface, everything appeared normal, as it should. A polite valet had taken the BMW to the parking lot. Another pleasant employee greeted them as they breezed into the cool, dark lobby of the restaurant. She noticed two bartenders behind the bar off to her right, but the fact that the bar itself was void of patrons did not register with her in this excited state of mind.

"Good evening. How may we help you tonight?" The host greeted them amicably and smiled.

With his palm resting on her back, Roger answered quietly, "Lococco. We’re on your book for seven."

The host smiled again and looked down at the huge ledger on the podium. Then he glanced back up. "Oh, yes. You’re right on time. This way, please. I’ll show you to your table."

He led them around past a partition to where she knew the huge, spacious dining room would spread out wondrously before them. She’d been here once before, long ago. But on that occasion, other diners, she was sure, had actually been present.

Not this evening.

When they rounded the corner, she saw immediately that the entire massive dining room was completely empty and quiet, but that each and every one of the almost 200 hundred tables was perfectly set and ready for service. The gigantic picture window that stretched across the back of the room revealed the serene lake and the slowly-setting sun. It would have been a breath-taking sight on a normal, full Sunday night. But to view such a scene sans people in it was mind-boggling.

"The choice of tables is yours, ma’am. Strangely enough, they’re all available this evening. Happy birthday." The host interrupted the dream.

She stood there entranced. Her breath got tangled up somewhere deep in her throat, and she gasped. Staring wide-eyed at the host and what lay behind him, it occurred to her to turn around and find Roger. When she did, he was waiting, smiling slightly.

"Yeah. Happy birthday, baby."

Frozen in amazement, she fought to get words out. "We’re…....the only ones here?"

He stepped closer to her, his hands folded in front of him. "You said once you loved this place……….It’s all yours tonight………Pick a table."

"Roger…….How’d you do this?"

"Gimme those menus, please, Anthony…….Thank you," he said to the host.

"Certainly, Mr. Lococco. Call if you need anything."

Then, holding the menus in one hand and wrapping his other arm around her shoulders, he slowly moved her further into the quiet, elegant dining room.

"Roger, I can’t believe this. It’s a fairy tale……….like something that happens in the movies……..This is beautiful." She was mesmerized by the view out the window, and by the enormity of the situation.

They stopped and stood in the middle of the room, surrounded by tables. He pushed back her hair and kissed her neck. "Well, it’s real, baby. Where you wanna sit?"

"Is this staff of employees here just for us?"

"Yep. From the valet outside to the head chef in the back. They’re all in on the little game, sweets."

"But how’d you convince them to shut down with all the freaking business they do?"

"Shhhh……That’s not for you to worry ‘bout on your big day."

She turned around quickly and hugged him. "I don’t know how you pulled this off, but it’s the most wonderful thing anyone’s ever done for me. Seriously."

Holding her, he said, "No tears now………..We got a long night ahead of us, and you don’t wanna mess up the ol’ makeup."

She hadn’t been crying, but she was close. She pulled away from him and looked up. "Thank you………You’re the best."

"Yeah, yeah………Don’t thank me yet." He touched her nose with his fingertip. "You might wish we’d gone to Shoney’s after all."

After a little consideration and looking around, she chose one of the pretty round tables next to the picture window, one in the middle of the long row. As they were sitting down and making themselves comfortable, several waiters discreetly rushed over to remove a few of the other tables around them, allowing more space.

Roger had certainly planned the evening well, and she was positive that he’d given everyone involved with the festivities detailed instructions on how and when to proceed with each new step. The staff was gracious and almost invisible. Perfect.

They began with a bottle of good champagne which they drank slowly while watching the sun go down over the lake. Then they perused the menu and chose the five-course dinner fare. After he gave their main waiter the dinner choices, Roger looked across the table at her and smiled.

"How ‘bout a dance?"

She glanced around the room, searching. "Whada we do? Hum a little tune?"

"C’mon, smartass. I told you I’d take care of everything."

Then he stood up and held out his hand to her. As soon as she placed her hand in his and stepped away from the table, lovely orchestra music mysteriously filled the air, piped in from a romantic dreamland somewhere. Surprised once again, she could only smile as Roger pulled her into his arms moved her gracefully around the now-open area.

She pressed herself closer to him and breathed in the pleasant atmosphere. Her head was slightly buzzing from the bubbly alcohol. It was almost completely dark outside, and the candles on all the remaining tables glowed. Just for the two of them.

"This is magical, Roger………I couldn’t have dreamed of anything better," she whispered in his ear.

"Glad you like it, sweets. I don’t remember my thirtieth birthday………I think I was in Singapore or somewhere."

She thought she felt him shudder just a little. "Why’re you so damn good to me?" she asked.

"Why shouldn’t I be, baby?"

She sighed. "’Cause sometimes I feel like I’m so……….needy………so dependent on you for so much……..And you’re so INdependent and self-sufficient…………I wonder why you even bother with the likes of me……….especially after your old lifestyle and everything."

"Ahh, now the likes of you is what gets me outta bed in the mornings………..I need you for that………..it’s a mutual kinda thing, baby……….a very tight deal…....a vapor lock, you and me. A suitable compliment to each other. I can need too, ya know."

Smiling against him as they moved together, she murmured, "No way, sweetheart. I got you beat in the dependency category……….by a long damn shot."

"No big deal……..I ain’t complaining. What we got works, wouldn’t ya say?"

"Yes………it works………..Why, Roger? Why’d you go so extravagant like this for my birthday?"

He hesitated, caressing her back and shoulders. "’Cause YOU’RE my gift, sweets………..something good that happened to me outta the blue…………..something I wasn’t expecting or looking for………the gift that keeps on giving, so to speak…….and now I wanna give things back to you."

"Well, you’ve outdone yourself this time, honey……..This is amazing……." She trailed off, afraid she might cry.

"You like it for real?"

"I love it, Roger……….I love you."

"Okay. Cool. Happy birthday, baby."