CHAMPAGNE KISSES by Amanda Brunker is published by Transworld Ireland and available now in all good bookshops - retailing at €14.99 or online from Amazon.com.
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EVENTUALLY we arrived at the bash that Jeff had flown us over for. It was a very stately Victorian home with massive spotlights circling outside the front and an illumination of some model on the wall with the words 'To The Manor Born' written across her naked body.
Unimpressed by the pomp, I huffed passed the model waiters offering champagne cocktails, and then returned to them to demand where the toilets were.
When I returned to the group I then had to endure Maddie rattling on about how beautiful Nicole Appleton was in person. I know I should have shown more of an interest as she gushed, 'She's so down-to-earth. Look, I got a picture with her on my phone.'
But I didn't care about meeting any stars. I still didn't even know why they were all here, other than that Jeff's family's company was sponsoring the event.
Tired and emotional, and still wearing the same clothes from that morning, I told Parker I needed a moment to myself. Wandering out to the garden area, I found a space to sit on my own.
It was ten minutes before I realised he wasn't following me out to cheer me up. I was gutted. Staring at my phone to make it look as if I was doing something, I was at pains to think who I could text or call.
I had texted Lisa earlier but had heard nothing back. So I decided Maddie my supposed best friend should come out and comfort me.
Lacking the energy to submerge myself in the madding crowd again, I texted 'Maddie: I'm out in the garden. Come out with a drink pls.'
Straight away she texted me back: '2 mins.'
Somewhat relieved, I relaxed into my concrete chair and people watched the smokers. Although a heavy dew had started to cling to everything, semi-clothed glamorous women frolicked around, puffing bellyfuls of smoke to the sky like old movie stars, while a group of grumpy-looking men pretended not to notice them.
Another couple huddled in a corner looked very devious indeed. Both in their forties, they definitely looked like they were having an affair; but one that was coming to an end. Uneasy in each other's company, they seemed on constant lookout, as the woman sobbed into her champagne cocktail, and he remained sullen.
Occasionally she'd pound his chest and shout the word 'Bastard', which only made him look more determined and fierce.
Just as the damp had started to numb my bum, my phone, gripped between my hands like a lifeline, beeped '1 New Message.'
Sure it was Maddie telling me it was too cold outside, and that I was to stop being stupid and get back in and join the group, I got a shock to see the words 'TURN AROUND' from an unrecognisable +191 number.Thinking what the fu-? I quickly looked behind me to find my New Yorker standing beside a rose bush brandishing a bottle of Laurent Perrier Rosé and two glasses.
'Pinky said it was your favourite.' Michael smiled, making my heart skip a beat.
'For the record his name is Parker,' I corrected, 'but what are you doing here?'
'Hey, I met the most beautiful woman I've ever seen tonight, and then she ran off on me.What's with that?'
His eyes smiled as he spoke.
Not sure if I was daydreaming again, I pinched my leg to make sure. 'Am I imagining things?'
'What do you mean?'
'Well I'm nearly sure we left you in Queens. How did you find me?'
Ignoring my question, he positioned himself beside me on the icy concrete bench, and started to pour the champagne like a pro.
'You know that Pinky fella really is a good judge of character,' mused Michael. 'He invited me when you were in the cloakroom. He said it would be da craic and not to tell you.'
'What did he say to you? Did he pressurise you into coming here? Oh, God I'm so embarrassed. I'm so sorry.
He can be a bit forceful sometimes.' My mind began to run away with itself.
'Whoah! Slow down there, tiger, everything is just rosé in the garden. Don't you think?' A broad smile rippled across his face as he placed the champagne flute in my hand and clinked his glass against mine. 'I propose a toast,' declared Michael, raising his glass to the stars: 'Here's to new beginnings and great friendships.' 'Shock entrances more like.' My confidence had started to return.
'I've always prided myself on my entrances. Much better than my exits, I feel,' he said and then knocked back the champers.
'Well let's hope you never make one,' I said, tilting my glass towards him. And in two magical mouthfuls, I too made mine disappear.
Lifting the glass from my hand, he placed the two empty glasses at our feet, and then asked me, 'Can I kiss you?' Unable to speak, I gave him my best sexy eyes and tilted my head towards his.
Then we kissed, the perfect kiss. It wasn't like kissing someone for the first time. It was familiar and right. Wow! If he kept kissing me like this I could love this guy for ever.
Obviously as happy as I was, Michael pushed my hair off my shoulder and nuzzled his face against mine.The heat of his breath hummed in my ear. 'Have you ever had a champagne kiss before?' he whispered wickedly.
'Did I not just have one?' I was unsure what he meant.
'No,' he said, smiling, 'but, just like last time I want you to kiss me back.'
Then in Jim Morrison fashion, he lifted the bottle off the ground, took a mouthful of champagne, and before I knew what to do he had leaned in once again to kiss me.
Like an explosion, I could feel the sweet nectar entering into my mouth, gushing across my taste-buds and rushing down the back of my throat. All the while, Michael choreographed his tongue expertly inside my lips. This was true fizz. Champagne kisses for ever.Then, as if he had read my mind he gave me an intense, deep look and said, 'Do you believe in love at first sight?'
Doing my best coy act, I replied, 'Maybe...'
'Well, I do,' he said, coming over serious, all the while making me feel warm and fuzzy on the inside. Nervous with the intensity of the moment, I let out a little laugh and stuttered, 'Oh, oh, do you know?'
'Yes, I do,' he shot back. 'I'm a big believer in what's meant to be.'
Uncharacteristically stuck for words, I gave a nervous cough, trying to gain time. The best response I could come up with was 'Oh, yeah?'
Laughing, Michael grabbed my hands, which had started to make an annoying flicking sound with my nails, and pulled them close to his chest. It felt warm and strong, and smelt great.
'What you doin' Valentine's? he asked, after obviously giving it some thought. 'And don't say you'll have to consult your diary.'
'You tell me,' I said as I slid my hand right up the back of his neck and started to roll his hair around my finger, the cold of the night just melting away.
'I think we should go to Las Vegas.'
'Sounds like a plan to me.'
'Cool. How does this sound? Fancy getting married?'
Hey beautiful, are you awake yet?' The sound of my New York superhero's voice was now familiar to me. 'I've got fresh bagels and some pastries for you and sweet coffee for my sweet...Now are you gonna get up? Or do I have to drag your ass outta bed?'
His voice resonated in the kitchen, before he popped his adorable head through the crack in the door. It was the Monday morning after the weekend before, and I was still happily in London after skipping my cramped return flight on Florence with the gang. It wasn't like I had any work to rush back to after all.
'Morning,' Michael smiled, as I yawned and stretched across the bed, cheekily exposing my naked nipples over the top of the crunchy white duvet, accidentally on purpose.
We hadn't had sex yet, and I was practically bursting with frustration.
'Morning yourself,' I replied, as I patted the mattress beside me, signalling for him to come and join me.
'You don't want breakfast?' he challenged, adopting a macho hands-on-hips pose.
'I, think I'm hungry, but, er, I think I fancy some meat to nibble on,' I sniggered, failing desperately to keep a straight face.
'You want meat?' he said as he frantically kicked off his Timberlands and swung his belt across the room, nearly knocking over a bedside lamp. 'You got meat!' Before I knew what had hit me, Michael had barged in and swept the duvet from the bed. Tossing it on the floor, he climbed over me on all fours as I screamed and wriggled into the foetal position, trying in vain to hide my modesty.
'You wanna play hard to get?' he teased, as he tickled my bare body from my feet to my neck, haphazardly wriggling out of his Edun T-shirt at the same time.
'NO - NO,' I yelped, unable to speak while laughing so hard.
'Well, pumpkin, I fancy a nibble of something tasty myself.' He smiled, then lunged for my neck and vigorously munched. Giving up the fight,my body released itself into his arms. Pulling him close to feel his smooth bare chest against mine, I felt I had died and gone to heaven. His smell had become so familiar now as well; that was all I could register as my eyes rolled back while he savaged at my neck, rendering my body weak.
Just as I became aware of his right hand sliding down my waist, he flipped me over like a rag doll, slapped my backside with force and threw me over his shoulder.
'Right, Miss Eva,' he said, struggling as he tried to rise off the bed, 'you're going to have some breakfast, whether you like it or not!' And he manhandled me into the living room and flung me on to a massive burgundy corduroy couch, sending gold embroidered cushions flying.
'There,' he panted, standing over me like a gladiator. 'Now I shall serve you breakfast. Don't move!' Like a rescued damsel, I cosied myself on the sofa, pulling a wool shrug over me. As Michael returned to the kitchen to fetch our food, I scanned the room and its fabulous paintings and memorabilia.
Although it wasn't Michael's home, just a pad that his mate lent him when he was in London, I could visualise a huge amount of his personality from his belongings.
Exuding a relaxed, comfortable style, rips on the sofa arm and burn-holes in the curtains hinted that it had seen the odd party or two; and judging by the mini photo collage over the black cast iron fireplace, the odd celebrity too. On the lengthy walls hung massive photographs of models, alongside interesting pieces of modern art. Impressively, two pieces were by Damien Hirst, and there was even a small Chapman Brothers amended Goya etching above an old Regency dresser, which was covered in piles of photographs and papers, and several empty bottles of Jack Daniel's.
'Is that really Kate Moss?' I asked, curious about the beautiful people in the picture frame.
'Yeah, she's hot, ain't she?' enthused Michael returning with the breakfast goodies. 'Frankie, the guy who owns this place, seriously works the London scene. He's currently in Namibia researching his latest book, though. Hunting hidden treasure, I think.'
'Isn't he just a true life Indiana Jones, eh?'
'He's a bit of a dreamer is my boy, but ya just gotta love him. I'm just surprised that trust fund of his hasn't run out. It'll be some wake-up call when it does.'
Sipping my Java blend, which Michael had switched into a very trendy mug designed by Tracy Emin, I pondered how wonderful life could be, and thought that maybe my mother was on to something with that whole 'You never know what's around the corner' lark.
She's going to be so happy for me - that is, when she starts talking to me again.
Gosh, wait till Lisa hears where I am.This is definitely more her speed. I can't wait to bore her with all the details of our whirlwind romance. How Michael reckons he can get me a gig writing for a New York publication, and how his family - who own several bars in the city - are going to 'Eat me up', I'm so 'genuinely Oirish'.
Contentment enveloped my being, and I noticed Michael had settled himself with a copy of the Independent in a large wing-back chair beside a sash window.
His profile lit up with the strong lunchtime sun. It was unusually tropical for this time of year; I couldn't see a cloud in the sky. And I sat there for a time thinking this was a sign.Yes, the future looked bright once again.
Noticing I was looking in his direction, Michael tilted his paper and asked, 'You happy?'
'Very,' I smiled back, to which he returned a wink and then resumed reading.
Bloody right I was, I thought. I was in the middle of a fantasy romance novel.
