The young brunette wife blushed appreciatively. "Why… thank you, Dr. Kaye!"
Eric beamed at her and then turned to Kirk. They shook hands warmly. "Good to see you again, my boy," the suave professor said.
He took Vicki's arm and ushered the two young people inside, shutting the door behind him.
They were in a huge living room furnished in imported Danish modem with tastefully chosen representations on the walls and indirect lighting to accentuate the largeness of the area. There was a large red brick fireplace, with a wide hearth stacked with cordwood and wrought iron fixtures, that comprised more than half of one side wall. At the other end was a large, oiled walnut bar with four stools in dark leather, its surface covered with crystal decanters and glassware containing liquor of every conceivable kind. The entire rear wall was a huge view window with sliding glass doors that opened out onto a balcony that ran the width of the structure. Blue drapes which matched the shag carpeting had been drawn back, and the splendor of Glenview as seen through winter rain was revealed to their eyes. The winking lights of the college community were reflected in the silver droplets beading the glass.
On a long, low couch near the center of the cavernous room sat a strikingly beautiful woman in a shimmering silver lame gown that seemed to Vicki to be scandalously short. She had long, silver-blonde hair and a wide scarlet mouth, and her beauty was loud and sensual where Vicki's was quiet and somewhat virginal. She rose as the Youngs approached with her husband, and smiled with those moist warm lips; the lame dress rustling with husky whispers as she moved, clinging like a second skin to her rich, high breasts and sharply defined, protruding buttocks.
Eric Kaye said, "Kirk and Vicki Young, I'd like you to meet my wife, Christine. Christy, darling, meet Kirk and Vicki."
Christine Kaye rubbed the palms of her hands along her sleek sides as if she was a languorous cat. Vicki thought a little spitefully, I don't like her at all; she acts like she's going to start purring any minute. And look at the hungry expression on Kirk's face… he's captivated by her! The brunette young wife wondered then if she were becoming jealous, and decided that she was; not that she had any cause, of course, it was only natural for men to be attracted to a woman who was so obviously sensual. Don't get your claws out, she cautioned herself; this was to be a fun evening for Kirk's sake… and yes, for my own after the traumatic self-abuse I succumbed to this afternoon.
Vicki said, "How do you do, Mrs. Kaye? I'm very pleased to meet you."
"And I, you," Christy said in a husky contralto. She turned her smoldering black eyes on Kirk and took his hand. "How sweet of you to come tonight," she cooed.
Kirk flushed slightly as her hand seemed to finger in his longer than necessary. "Glad we came," he managed, feeling somewhat at a loss for words for the first time since his teens. This Christy Kaye was probably the most sensually alluring woman he had ever seen outside of a movie theater, and he found himself involuntarily wondering what it would be like to take her to bed. God, she could probably fuck the ass right off of you, he thought, and then blushed again at the lewdness of the idea. No use in harboring a lot of crazy thoughts that weren't going to net him anything anyway.
Still, she was a damned fascinating woman…
Eric Kaye said, "Have a seat beside Christy on the couch. I'll mix drinks. Anyone want anything special?"
"Well," Kirk answered, "a little brandy, if you have it. With soda! And Vicki will have a Vodka tonic. Is that all right, honey?"
"Fine," Vicki smiled.
Kaye nodded and said, "Christy?"
"Another champagne cocktail, dear," she breathed.
The smiling professor went to the walnut bar and began to mix the drinks. As he did so, he allowed himself a secretive smile and let his eyes undress Vicki Young; if things went as planned, he thought, this was going to be a night he and Christy – and the Youngs – weren't going to forget for some time to come.
Neither Vicki nor Kirk noticed that he made both of their drinks double-strength.
The evening progressed rapidly, and in spite of her initial dislike for the silver-haired Christy Kaye, Vicki found herself developing a certain camaraderie with the woman. The two men seemed to be getting along famously, and Vicki found Christy to be surprisingly intelligent, a somewhat paradoxical quality in a woman of her sensual physical appearance. Soon they woe talking on topics ranging from a recipe for real Italian veal scaloppini to the damage being wrought by indiscriminate polluting of America's rivers and lakes.
The first drink Dr. Kaye had given her had been a little strong for Vicki's liking, but she hadn't wanted to seem immature or impolite – and so she hadn't said anything. She had drunk it slowly, and when she'd finally finished it, he'd made her another that hadn't seemed too strong at all; probably just her imagination with the first one, she'd mused, and proceeded to drink the second with a bit less caution as she and Christy talked. When she was again finished, Eric Kaye dutifully poured her a third Vodka and tonic.
Although she wasn't really consciously aware of it, the amount of liquor the young brunette wife was consuming began to have a marked effect on her. Gradually, she experienced a physical relaxing of her body; the tenseness evaporated, and she was completely relaxed by then, happy and carefree once in the company of the man she loved and two people with whom she was enjoying herself immensely.
Kirk, too, had noticed the strength of his brandy-soda when Kaye had handed him that first drink, but he had considered it a result of the doctor's flare for being a gracious and liberal host. Besides, he liked his drinks with a little kick in them – and he could hold his liquor with the best of men when he drank, even though he didn't indulge very often. He felt completely at ease with Dr. Eric Kaye, and as the hour of midnight – and the New Year – drew nigh, he found himself as complacently secure as he had ever been in his life. The older professor could be – he hoped was going to be – a valued and valuable friend, furthering Kirk's career both directly and indirectly; tonight could be the beginning of a long and satisfactory relationship.
Vicki drained the last swallow of her third drink, and her professor boss got to his feet immediately. "Another, my dear?" he asked.
"Well…" Vicki giggled reflexively, and then excused herself and said, "yes – I think I will have another, Dr. Kaye."
"Eric," he insisted. "There's no need for office formality here, Vicki."
"Then – yes, I'd love another drink, Eric."
Christy looked at her watch. "It's eleven-thirty," she said. "Don't you think it's time we opened some of that vintage champagne, baby?"
"Excellent idea," Kaye enthused. "I have it on ice behind the bar."
"Mmmmmm!" Vicki exclaimed. "I adore champagne!"
"Especially imported champagne," Kirk said, grinning.
"This is quite good," Christy told them. "I think you'll like it."
"I'm sure we will," Vicki said, with a soft bubbling laugh. She was beginning to feel slightly giddy, almost light-headed, from the three Vodka tonics she'd consumed over the course of the evening; usually, two drinks were her absolute limit.
Eric Kaye popped the cork on a gold-foil encased magnum he produced from behind the walnut bar and poured four crystal champagne glasses full of the bubbling golden liquid. The two couples drank a toast to one another's health and happiness for the coming year, and the doctor refilled their glasses; another toast to Kirk's success in the field of coaching, and again Kaye poured.
They sipped two more glasses each, talking and laughing, until suddenly Christy announced, "It's two minutes till midnight!"
Eric hurried to the bar, and from behind it produced some small party hats and four long, wooden favors that unwind like a frog's tongue when someone blows into them. The laughing couples put on the hats as Christy and Vicki began a loud and boisterous countdown by Christy's thin gold watch. Five-four-three-two-one…