One Indecent Night

by Hargrove, A. M.

  By the time I finished, it was after eight, so I called it a day and went to search the refrigerator for dinner. Rita, my housekeeper, usually left something for me when she wasn’t here. Sure enough, there were salads and some other things to heat up. I hated eating this late, but I’d lost track of time when I was working.

  My phone rang and I hoped it was Sylvie. It wasn’t.

  “Cole.”

  “Sir, I received the files. I’ll get on it first thing in the morning.”

  “Great. There are some promising ones there. I’ll see you tomorrow. And Cole?”

  “Sir?”

  “I’m very impressed with your work.”

  “Thank you, sir. Have a good rest of the night.”

  The next morning, my alarm went off at five. I dressed and went out for my run, then came in and worked out in my gym, lifting weights. I was at work by seven. I liked to start Mondays off, arriving before everyone. Except Cole was already at his desk.

  “Good morning, Mr. Thomas. May I get you some coffee?”

  “No need. I can get it. What about you? Need a refill?”

  “That would be great, sir.”

  I grabbed the mug on his desk and went to the kitchen. We were the only two there, so the place was nice and quiet. When I got back, his nose was stuck to his computer.

  “Careful there, you’re going to ruin your eyes.”

  “They’re already ruined.” He aimed a thumb at them. “Contacts.”

  “If you keep your nose smashed into that screen, you’ll end up needing bifocals too. Cole, how long have you worked here?”

  “Close to two years, sir.”

  “And how long have you been my assistant?”

  “Fourteen months, sir.”

  “When do you think you’ll start calling me by my first name?”

  “Um, I didn’t think it was appropriate.”

  “Maybe not at a business meeting or in front of other employees, but when we’re here, working together, I’d prefer you’d drop the sir, and call me Evan.”

  “Yes, sir. I mean Evan.”

  “Thanks.”

  I went into my office and got to work. My phone began ringing at eight. After that, it was difficult to get much done, which was why I needed Cole. The bad thing was, if I promoted him, then I’d need a replacement and he was the best. But I’d never hold him back because of that.

  At six thirty, the receptionist called. Cole had already left so he wasn’t there to field my calls.

  “Sir, I’m sorry to disturb you, but there’s a Miss Jessica McCray here and she insists on seeing you. I told her she couldn’t without an appointment, but she refuses to leave.”

  Fuck. What does she want?

  “It’s fine. Escort her back, please.”

  Several minutes later, Jessica, dressed as though she were going to a fancy cocktail party, showed up at my door.

  “Evan, why aren’t you ready?”

  “Ready?”

  “Yes! You promised you’d take me to my art event. The one my company is hosting. Remember?”

  Oh, shit. I totally forgot about that.

  “Right. What time does it start?”

  “Now!”

  “Okay, give me a minute.”

  I hurried into my private bathroom, brushed my teeth, checked my appearance, changed my tie, and figured it would have to do.

  “Let’s go.”

  We took the elevator down and walked out when I started to hail a cab. She said, “You mean we aren’t taking your limo?”

  “It would take Robert too long to get here.”

  She huffed out a breath. This is why I hated doing her favors. She was the most spoiled little rich brat I knew.

  “Whatever. You know how I hate cabs. They’re so filthy. You have no idea of the germs inside.”

  “Didn’t you take one here?” I asked.

  “Yes, and it was dreadful, I tell you.”

  “Would you rather walk?”

  “I can’t walk in these,” she screeched, pointing to the stilettos she wore.

  “Then, Jessica, I’d suggest you forget about the germs and let’s go.”

  We climbed into the cab and left. When we arrived, the line was non-existent, so I wasn’t sure why she was pouting. It wasn’t like we were making a grand entrance or anything.

  The gallery was a bit crowded, but not to the point where you couldn’t move around. I wasn’t even sure who the artist was, so I inspected the paintings. They were all right, but not to my taste.

  “Evan, you have to buy one,” Jessica said.

  “Why?”

  “To support me, that’s why.”

  “I don’t even like them.”

  “Hush. We can’t let anyone hear.”

  “Jessica, I agreed to escort you here, not to buy any paintings.”

  “Come on, it’s not like you can’t afford it.”

  “That’s not the point. I’d buy every fucking one if I liked them, but I don’t.”

  “Jesus, you don’t have to be like that,” she said.

  “Like what?”

  “An ass.”

  Instead of standing there and arguing, I walked away and hunted the bar. Then I realized there wasn’t one. There were only waiters wandering about with wine on trays. Fine, I’d have one of those. But when I took a sip, it was the worse tasting wine I’d ever had. Then I realized this was an artist on a pauper’s budget. I wish Jessica had told me. I’d buy a painting to help the guy out. I wandered around, checking them all out so I could purchase the one I like the best. They were actually cheap, so maybe I’d buy two. There were a couple of colorful abstracts that were okay, so I went to the cashier to make the purchase. Jessica spied me there and came over.

  “You changed your mind?”

  “Why didn’t you tell me he was a struggling artist?”

  She shrugged. “How could you tell?”

  “From the awful wine you served. Who is it anyway?”

  “It’s a she not a he and she goes by Zada.”

  “Is she here?” I asked.

  “No, she’s super shy and was afraid to come.”

  “Tell her that won’t help her business.”

  “Evan, I tried. She won’t listen.”

  “Also tell her to do more of those. They’re better than her other stuff.”

  “Thanks for buying them.”

  A photographer was going around taking pictures and snapped a few of us. Afterward, I asked, “Do you mind if I leave? It’s been a long day.”

  “Not at all. Thanks for coming. I’ll have those delivered to your office.”

  “No, send them to my home.”

  “Will do.”

  “See ya, Jessica.” I bent to kiss her cheek, and the photographer snapped another photo.

  They always did that when I went out anywhere. It was so annoying how they got into your face.

  Nine

  Sylvie

  Two days … Rose would be back in two days. Starr skipped into my office to remind me. “Can you believe it. I can’t wait to hear about her honeymoon. I wonder if she has any pictures of Pearson in a bathing suit.” She snickered.

  “You’re terrible, lusting after my cousin and Rose’s hubs.”

  “I’m not lusting after him, only his sexy bod.” She waggled her brows.

  “Stop. You’re embarrassing me.”

  “I am not. You’re just as bad.”

  “Me? How so?”

  She shrugged and said, “I see how you ogle those pics of hot guys on the internet. Don’t you dare deny it.” Busted.

  “True, but Pearson? That hits too close to home.”

  “Not for me.” She left and I thought of Evan. I knew what she was talking about. Good looking, sexy bod, and … stop it, Sylvie.

  I turned on the computer to catch up on the news before work and there on the front page was a picture of the man himself, kissing some gorgeous blond on the cheek. The caption read, Evan Thomas, CEO of StarWorks Financi
al, seen with heiress Jessica McCray, at a gallery showing last night.

  What the hell! He said he wasn’t seeing anyone so what was this all about? That was it. I would text him and tell him to forget about Saturday. No way would I go out with a liar. He could have his heiress. Clearly, I wasn’t up to par.

  I fumed as I shut the computer down. The rest of the daily news held no interest for me. My first client was due in twenty minutes, so I needed to cleanse myself of this anger. I turned on my essential oil diffuser, though today I probably needed a Xanax.

  Leeanne walked in and wanted to know how I felt about adding an additional yoga class to our agenda. One look at me had her plopping down in a chair. “What happened?”

  “Nothing. I just read something that pissed me off.”

  “Where’s your medallion?”

  She was referring to the oil diffusing medallion I wore around my neck. I opened the top desk drawer and grabbed it. Then I placed several drops of lavender in it before I put it on.

  “That should help. Other than this, how’s it going?”

  “Well, my mom thinks I’m a ho.”

  Leeanne cackled. “A ho? Would you mind giving me a few more details?”

  “I can’t, really. But it was all in jest, only she thought I was serious. She actually made me go to church yesterday.”

  “Sylvie, that’s hilarious, but I wish I knew the whole story.”

  “Yeah, well, it was funny yesterday. Today it pisses me off.”

  “Keep breathing in the lavender. I have to go. Lunch?”

  “That depends on my schedule. Check back?”

  “Okay.”

  Leanne and I were friends, but that kind of information I’d only share with Rose. Something tickled my mind, and it suddenly plowed into me like an eighteen wheeler. Evan was CEO of a company. Damn, no wonder he had all that money. Turning my computer back on, I googled him.

  What came up shocked me. Why hadn’t Pearson shared this with me? Oh, because I wasn’t supposed to get close to him, that’s why.

  Evan Thomas was CEO of StarWorks, a hedge fund that he’d created. He earned both his MBA and Master of Entrepreneurship from Wharton’s. Wall Street had predicted StarWorks would be one of the higher income producing hedge funds of the decade and they were right. Evan was loaded. He was currently the owner of multiple businesses he’d invested in, and then bought out, but he also held controlling interest in stock in several other corporations.

  Not being very business oriented, I didn’t know the intricacies of what this meant, other than Evan was a powerhouse in the financial world. Now it made sense—the reservations, the limo, and so on. When you had clout like that, you could get anything you wanted, including women. He didn’t need me. I would only be another tick mark on his bedpost. No wonder Pearson had warned me about him.

  It was time for my first client, so thoughts of Evan were shoved aside. As usual, the rest of the day sped by.

  That night, my phone rang. It wasn’t a number I recognized and I almost didn’t answer it, but something made me at the last minute.

  “Hello.”

  “Aunt Sylvie!” a tiny voice said.

  “Is this who I think it is?”

  “It’s me, Montana.”

  “That’s what I thought. How’s the mighty Montana doing?” Montana was my friend, Rose’s, five-year-old daughter.

  “I’m sad.”

  “Sad? Why are you sad?”

  “I miss Mommy and MisterDaddy.”

  “I see. But guess what?”

  “What?”

  “They’re coming home tomorrow night.”

  “I know. Aunt Marin said so, but I want my mommy now. She reads me books and MisterDaddy does too.”

  “I bet Aunt Marin would read to you.”

  “She does and she’s real nice. But not like Mommy.”

  “Is Aunt Marin there?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Can I talk to her?”

  “Uh huh.”

  Marin, my cousin, Grey’s wife, got on the phone. “Looks like you have a case of a homesick girl on your hands,” I said.

  “I sure do. She’s pitiful. We’ve tried everything. Even Kinsley can’t cheer her up.”

  “Want me to bring her to my place? Maybe a change of scenery will do her some good.”

  “You don’t mind?”

  “Of course not. She’s stayed here plenty of times.”

  “Thanks, I owe you one.”

  “Hey, Marin, don’t tell her. Just say you have a surprise for her.”

  “Ooh, I like the sound of that.”

  They only lived about ten minutes from me, but their house was a lot fancier than mine. My cousin, Grey, was a cardiologist, so he made a lot more money than me. I didn’t begrudge him, though. He worked hard and had been through hell when his first wife died. Marin was the blessing he really needed.

  I rang the front bell, not using the back door as I usually did. Of course, that brought the sound of kids yelling, the dog barking, and Grey shouting over all the mayhem, telling everyone to hush. When he opened the door, three faces stared blankly at me, namely Kinsley, her little brother Aaron, and Montana. Then she shouted, “Aunt Sylvie,” and threw herself at me.

  She wrapped herself around me like a soft taco shell, so I walked inside, still holding her.

  “Guess it’s obvious what she needed,” Grey said. Marin walked into the room, smiling. She had Montana’s bag packed.

  “I figured we’d call Petey and let him pick her up at your place in the morning, if that’s okay.”

  Petey was the driver that took Montana to school and back every day. “Fine with me.”

  Then I asked Montana, “You ready to spend the night with me?”

  “Yeah!”

  Both Marin and Grey mouthed their thanks as I exited with the little one still clinging to me. But then I remembered I didn’t have a car seat.

  Marin was standing there, knowing exactly what was running through my mind. I guess that’s what moms do. “Hang on. I’ll grab you the one Rose left here. I never used it because we have so many.”

  Grey came back carrying it. “I’ll put it in for you.”

  “Good, and can you show me how to use it?”

  “This one’s a breeze.”

  After Montana was latched in, we waved goodbye and off we went. When we got home, and I unbuckled her and took her bag out, I asked, “Didn’t you have fun there?”

  “Yeah, but I want Mommy and Mister.”

  She called Pearson, Mister. When she first met him, Rose told her he was Mister Pearson. She said that was too long so she shortened it to Mister and it stuck.

  “Only one more day and they’ll be back.”

  “How come they stayed so long?”

  “Because it was their honeymoon.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means when you get married, afterward you go on a vacation called a honeymoon.”

  “How come I couldn’t go?”

  “Because that’s a special time just for the bride and groom.”

  “Oh. Can I go next time?”

  “You’ll have to ask them.”

  It was already late, and her bedtime, so I asked, “You want to sleep in the guest room, or with me?”

  “With you!” She clapped her hands.

  “Okie dokie. Time to brush your teeth and wash your face.”

  “Is my face dirty?”

  “Yep. I see dirt here, there, and right here.” I pinched her nose and she giggled.

  We went into my bathroom and she did as I asked. When she was finished, it was my turn. She sat and watched me go through my routine and asked all kinds of questions. How come you do this? Why do you use that? What’s that? And so on.

  When I was done, we changed into our PJs. I nearly died when she eyed me and said, “Aunt Sylvie, your boobies are bigger than my mommies.”

  “Good to know, honey. Hop in that big bed over there.” She scrambled over to ge
t in it, but it was a bit high, so I had to give her a boost. Then we both cracked up.

  “Good night, daisy face,” I said.

  “Good night, daffodil.”

  “Montana, I’m glad you’re spending the night and you know something?”

  “What?”

  “I miss your mommy too. Now go to sleep.”

  She curled up next to me and closed her eyes. I couldn’t help thinking how precious she was.

  Ten

  Evan

  Wednesday started out like shit. I woke up to a text from Sylvie.

  Sorry, I won’t be able to make it on Saturday.

  That’s all she said. Nothing else. I texted her back but got no response. I texted her three more times and not a single word. What the hell happened between Sunday and now? I waited until the evening to call, but it went to voicemail. I left a message, but she didn’t return my call. I called two more times and nothing. I almost got in my car and drove to her house. If she didn’t answer my calls or texts by tomorrow, that’s probably what I’d do.

  The next morning I went back to wooing her. This time the floral arrangement I sent to her was twice as big as the last. The scent should fill up the entire building. Then I called Cole in.

  “Did you need me, Evan?”

  “Yes. You’re married and I need a bit of advice because I want to send a nice gift to someone.”

  “Let me call my wife.”

  He was on the phone for a couple of minutes, then asked, “How well do you know her?”

  “Not well, but I’m trying to get to know her better.”

  He relayed this to his wife. Then he said, “Something low key. She said you don’t want to overpower her. It may run her off.”

  Great. “Any ideas?”

  “Chocolates. Wine.”

  “What about jewelry?”

  He held the phone away from his ear, laughing. “She’s yelling at me because she heard you. Definitely not jewelry. That will have her hitting the ground running for sure.”

  “I think I have it. Tell your wife, thanks.”

  I’d send her the best bottle of Reposado, even though she drank enough of it to get the entire city smashed, and a T-shirt that said St. Lucia. That was a fun kind of gift. What really made my decision was I intended to hand deliver them too. If she didn’t want to see me again, I was going to find out why.