Beautiful Stranger

the Internet is full of rumor and falsehood?” I stepped closer, brushing the backs of my fingers along her arm. It was soft and smooth, and I noted the way goose bumps spread along her skin. “You look stunning tonight, by the way.”
    She met my eyes, sizing me up. Even as she put a little distance between us, she murmured, “You don’t look so bad yourself.”
    I feigned shock. “Did you just compliment me?”
    “I may have.”
    “It would be a shame for both of us to have gotten all dressed up and not share a dance. Wouldn’t you agree?” Sara glanced around the garden and I added, “Just a dance, Petal.”
    She emptied her glass and set it on the tray of a passing waiter. “Just a dance.”
    Placing my hand on the small of her back, I guided her to a dimly lit corner of the dance floor.
    “I enjoyed our lunch the other day,” I said, taking her in my arms. “Perhaps we could do it again. Maybe with a slightly different menu?”
    She smirked, and looked past me.
    I pulled her body flush to mine, eliciting that little quirk of her eyebrow I was beginning to like so much. “So how are you finding New York?”
    “Different,” she said. “Bigger. Noisier.” She tilted her head, finally looking up at me. “The men are a little pushy.”
    I laughed. “You say that as if it’s a bad thing.”
    “I suppose that would depend on the man.”
    “And what about this man?”
    She blinked away, smiling politely again. It struck me that Sara behaved like a woman who was very much used to being watched in public.
    “Look, I’m flattered by your attention, Max. But why are you so interested in me? Can’t we admit we had a good time and leave it at that?”
    “I like you,” I said, shrugging. “I rather like your kink.”
    She laughed. “My kink? That’s one I’ve never heard before.”
    “Well, that’s a shame. Tell me, when you fantasize, what’s it about? Is it about sweet, gentle sex in a bed?”
    She looked up at me with a challenge in her eyes. “Sometimes, yes.”
    “But is it also about being touched in a restaurant, where anyone could see?” I leaned in, whispering against the shell of her ear. “Or fucked in a club?”
    I felt her swallow, felt her shaky breath before she straightened, putting a socially acceptable amount of distance between us. “Sometimes, of course. Who doesn’t have those fantasies?”
    “A lot of people don’t. And even more people don’t ever act on them.”
    “Why are you so hung up on this? I’m sure you could turn that smile on any woman here and take her in any room in this museum.”
    “Because, unfortunately, I don’t want any other woman here. You’ve become quite a mystery to me. How can you house such a paradox behind those big brown eyes? Who was that woman who fucked me in front of all those people?”
    “Maybe I just wanted to see how it felt to do something crazy like that.”
    “And it felt amazing, didn’t it?”
    There was no hesitating when she looked up at me. “Yes. But look,” she said, taking a step back. My arms fell to my sides. “I’m not interested in being anyone’s plaything right now.”
    “I believe I’m asking to be yours.”
    Shaking her head, she fought a smile and looked up at me. “Stop being cute.”
    “Meet me upstairs.”
    “What? No.”
    “The empty ballroom adjacent to the restrooms. It’s up the stairs and to your right.” I stepped closer, then kissed her cheek as if to thank her for the dance.
    I left her there just as the music came to a stop and they announced that dinner would be served inside, immediately followed by the auction. I wondered if she would do it. Ifshe would risk being missed, if she felt the same buzz of adrenaline I felt.
    The sound of conversation built as I stepped out of the humid night and into the air-conditioned museum. I climbed the wide staircase and meandered down the hall into the empty, unlit ballroom. The voices dimmed as I pulled the door behind me, leaving it open just a sliver.
    I waited just inside for a beat, listening to the muted sounds of the party as it continued downstairs and outside, and listening to make sure I was truly alone in the dark room.
    The occasional patron walked down the carpeted hall and inside the empty ballroom, making brief phone calls or looking for the restrooms. It felt as if every sound I made echoed out into the hallway, my shoes slapping on the wood floor as I took note of the layout. The room was longer than it was wide, and