But from what I’d heard, this Montero guy held a powerful company. There were a lot of rumors floating around about him. Most of what I heard was that he treated his clients like shit, but usually, the people that said that were people he rejected or let go. He only worked with the best he could find. He was very nitpicky and self-worthy. He never beat around the bush, and he never held onto liabilities. In my mind, I pictured a stuck-up, middle-aged jackass that had no social life whatsoever. He probably had an over the top, young wife at home that gobbled up his money and wasted it on designer purses and shoes.
“Alright,” I sighed, taking a step back and making sure the documents were in order. “Should be good.”
Claire backed away from the cart, making sure everything looked the way it was supposed to, or in her eyes, perfect. “I don’t understand why we even offer breakfast. None of them ever eat it.”
“Hey,” I said, taking a seat in front of the floor-to-ceiling window. “Don’t complain. That breakfast comes in handy for me sometimes.”
“At least the bagels are fresh.” She took her usual seat beside me, crossing her legs and folding her arms.
Yeah… Bagels.
Crap. Bagels!
My stomach churned dramatically.
Food was the wrong thing to think about right now.
“Shit,” I breathed. “I’ve gotta—”
“What’s wrong?” Claire asked, placing a hand on my shoulder. When she caught sight of my nauseated face, she frowned. “Oh, God. Please don’t tell me you’re gonna puke in here! Mya, Green will kill you!” she hissed, forcing my body up. “And I’m not helping you clean it if it happens here. Go! And hurry back! Don’t be late!”
I hurried for the glass door, pulling it open by the handle and rushing down the hallway. Jessica looked my way, watching as I cupped my mouth and took a hard right turn. “Sterling, what the hell has gotten into you?” she snapped, springing to her feet. “If Green catches you running around here like some maniac when Montero is on his way he’ll end your career!”
Ignoring her, I clobbered down the mirrored hallway, made a quick left, and burst through the first door in sight. Forcing the stall door open, I bent forward and released the putrid vile. “Oh, God,” I groaned. It smelled horrible. I felt horrible. But I wasn’t done. I puked three more times before I was completely finished. After the third time, though, I waited for a few minutes, afraid there was more to come. Realizing no more was building up, I pulled out a mint and popped it into my mouth.
Sinking against the wall, I lowered to a squat and buried my face into my hands. I needed to get my shit together. This wasn’t okay. I mean, yes, I was hurting, and yes, I wanted to get rid of the pain somehow, but this only seemed to make things worse. Being hung-over was getting old. And I was sure throwing up this much acid was going to rot my teeth if I kept this up every day.
Footsteps started in my direction, and I jerked my head up, prepared to slam the stall door. Just as I grabbed the handle and stood up to close it, something heavy pressed against the other side and stopped it from happening.
“Claire, I’m fine,” I said. Only she’d be kind enough to check on me.
“Claire?” The voice was deep, and completely unexpected. But it was familiar. Way too familiar. I knew that voice…
Flushing the toilet, I turned quickly and pulled the door open. And before me stood the man I never thought I’d see again.
He stood confidently, well-tailored in his tan three-piece suit. Most of his raven-like hair was pushed back but styled in a classy part that allowed a few tendrils to hang on his forehead. He was just as tall as I remembered and just as incredibly handsome. His creamy, tan complexion enhanced his well-trimmed moustache and goatee. And those firm jawbones… boy, did the lighting in the bathroom bounce off them the right way. He had to be taller than six-feet; I’d say about six-foot-three, one of the main reasons I stuck around with him during and after the party. His stature, it was perfect. Lean and towering, and from what I could remember was beneath that suit, he was chiseled in all the right places, his caramel skin smooth and warm.
He took a quick look around the restroom through his long, thick lashes and then met my eyes again, tilting his head. He was a very fine man, so fine that I’d slept with him one time and enjoyed it immensely. But I couldn’t remember his name. Although forgetting his name was a huge concern, my biggest concern was why the hell was he here? Did he follow me?
“Hey,” I said, swiping the corners of my mouth and stepping out of the stall with a slight frown. “I… remember you.” He was my Enrique.
“I’m sure you do,” he said, taking a step back.
I hesitated, swallowing thickly. “I’m sorry… um… why are you in the ladies’ room?”
His eyebrows elevated slightly. Then he chuckled. “I believe this is the men’s room, Mya.”
“What?” I gasped. “Shit, I have to get out of here. My boss comes to this restroom at the same time every morning.”
“I assume you mean Donald Green. I’m afraid he won’t be here for another fifteen minutes or so,” he said.
I narrowed my eyes. “How would you know that? Wait… why are you here? H-how are you here? I mean…” Shit. What the hell was I trying to say? “I mean… we were just in Key West a week ago. This is Chicago. I work here. You don’t. I know I’m not dreaming.”
“I have a business meeting with Mr. Green today. It was supposed to start eight minutes ago, but seeing as he’s late, I figure he must not have cared much for the conference.”
“Oh, no, trust me,” I said, quickly lifting my hands to stop him from backing away. “Mr. Green is hardly ever late. There has to be a valid reason.” It was never like me to defend Green, but he was my boss, and whenever his day was shitty, so was mine. He took everything out on us.
“Traffic is his reason,” he mumbled. “If he couldn’t get up sooner to arrive on time, that isn’t my problem. I don’t wait for business. He’s lucky I actually made time to come by.” He looked me over from head to toe. “But I now have a reason to wait just a little while longer.”
“W-what reason might that be?”
“You, Mya,” he said coolly.
I blinked rapidly before forcing a laugh. “Oh…”
He angled his head, taking a small step forward. “You don’t remember my name, do you?”
I sealed my lips, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Would you hate me if I said no?”
He smirked. “I’d find it surprising.”
“Surprising… why?”
“Because every woman I’ve slept with always remembers my name one way or another. And from what I can recall, you thoroughly enjoyed that night.”
“I was drunk,” I murmured. “Very, very drunk.”
“Yes. I could tell.”
“And, honestly, I was only looking for a good time, just as you were.”
His face tightened a little. “What makes you think I was only looking for a good time?”
I shrugged. “I just figured… I mean, we’d just met and all.”
“Yes, we’d just met, and we could’ve gotten to know each other a little more if you hadn’t run off the next morning.” A hint of a smile appeared on his lips. I didn’t realize it before, but he’d gotten closer. He was only a step away. One more and I was sure to be feeling his body heat… again.
“It was a one-time thing,” I breathed, backing away. Unfortunately, I couldn’t go far. I bumped into the stall, glancing over my shoulder. I moved to the right a little, standing in front of the wall.
He moved with me and pressed a hand on the wall above my head, that ghostly smile still on his lips. “I know you don’t remember my name,” he said, leaning forward.
“Why do you say that?”
“Because if you remembered, you would’ve known this meeting was being held with me today.”
“You? Wait… you’re Carlos Montero?” I asked, astounded.
“Don’t act so surprise
d. I told you my full name and what I did for a living.” He smirked.
“I just thought… I don’t know. I figured you were a part of his team or something,” I laughed stupidly, stumbling to my right. He caught my arm, reeling me into him. Our chests bumped, and I breathed erratically, tilting my chin. “I should go,” I mustered. It was hard to say with him so close, taking up so much precious space.
He ignored my statement. “Come out with me tonight.”
“That won’t happen.”
“Why not?”
“It just won’t. It can’t. I have a lot of work to catch up on.”
His eyes studied my face. It was as if he’d never seen me up close before. From what I could recollect, we were pretty up close and personal at that party, and especially in that hotel room. Although the party room was dim and it only took a few drinks to get out of my element, I could see him rather clearly—that is, until he began to fizzle into a blur.
He roamed my face with his chocolate eyes for a mere moment, and then he whispered something I didn’t expect. “You felt so fucking good that night.”
I swallowed audibly.
“Your pussy,” he murmured, running the tip of his nose down my jawline, “…was so wet. So ready. I need to feel that again. I’ve never needed to feel a woman twice. Once is always enough.” He was getting straight to the point, just like I had the previous weekend.
Words like this didn’t usually flatter me, but the way he spoke—so deeply and provocatively—caused my walls to clench. This man had a voice made of pure silk. This man was a god.
“I know you remember,” he said into my ear, his facial hair rubbing across my cheek. “The way I made you come apart in so many ways—ways you never thought possible. You gave me credit for that, actually. Many times. You couldn’t stop saying it.”
How could he remember so much? I could hardly remember half the shit I said, but I did remember most of the moves we made in that hotel room. I didn’t want to admit it to him, but it was the best sex I’d ever had. And I thought Terry was my best. Terry wasn’t even close. This man, Carlos, did things to my body that I didn’t even know could be done—as he knowingly said, things I thought were impossible.
Tipping his head back, Carlos peered deep into my eyes. His were low and heavy. A fuller smile graced his lips, and slowly, his free hand traveled down to my hips. He was bold; I gave him that, but I refused to indulge. I was at work. I could get caught, possibly fired.
But he felt so good.
His touch.
His smell.
Everything about him was heightening my arousal all over again, and that was saying a lot considering I felt like dog shit.
Just as I was about to call it quits and give into his temptation, the bathroom door burst open, and Claire stomped in. She started to speak, but her lips immediately sealed as she spotted the two of us pressed together against the wall. Carlos looked back but didn’t make a move. I tried getting from between his arms, but he didn’t budge.
“Mya… um… Green is downstairs. I overheard Jessica on the phone…” Her voice was out of range, which proved she had a million questions to ask and she was going to do so as soon as she had the chance. I nodded, my cheeks burning, but she continued to stare at us, eyes wide and blank.
“Okay. Claire,” I said, demanding that she get out with my eyes and a quick tilt bob of my head.
“Oh. Shit. Right.” She turned quickly, and Carlos finally eased up, taking a step back and running his fingers through his hair.
I stepped around him and adjusted my teal blouse and grey slacks. I checked the mirror, but I couldn’t ignore the heaviness I felt on my backside. Turning slowly, I folded my fingers and said, “I should go.”
I started towards the door and pulled it open, but before I could set foot out, Carlos asked, “What time will you be off of work?”
“Not sure,” I responded.
“I can easily find out, Mya. You know that, right?”
I glanced over my shoulder. “Is that a threat?”
He shrugged, sliding his fingertips into his front pockets. “More like a promise.”
I released the door and turned his way completely. “Look, Carlos, what happened between us can’t happen again. It was one night. I can’t risk anything more.”
“Your body spoke otherwise moments ago.” His gaze traveled down the length of me. “And it seems like you could use another night like that after the way you just vomited all over that toilet.”
“No. I’m sorry.” Shaking my head, I turned for the door and hurried out. This was absurd. Of all the places… of all the people. I couldn’t believe this guy was actually here. My pretend Enrique was supposed to stay an Enrique— a fantasy I’d fulfilled. One I’d conquered. He wasn’t supposed to become real. He wasn’t supposed to enter my life ever again. He wasn’t supposed to be Carlos Montero.
And what the hell was I thinking back there? I almost gave in. I was weak. Being weak is what got me into this shit in the first place.
I sped down the hallway and entered the conference room. Claire spotted me through the glass door before I could get inside and hopped to her feet with a heavy frown. “What the hell was that?” she whisper-hissed. “Who was that guy? And seriously, in the men’s bathroom of all places?”
“We didn’t do anything,” I said, walking around her. Well, not today.
“It doesn’t matter. What if Mr. Green would’ve caught you? Or worse, Jessica’s spiteful ass? You know she wants us fired! This could’ve cost us both our jobs.”
I took a seat in the chair, hiding my shaky fingers. Anxiety coursed through me. What the hell was wrong with me?
“Mya, damn it, talk to me. Who was he? Tell me something.”
“You won’t believe me if I did,” I said, meeting her eyes.
She narrowed hers in return. “Try me.” I met her eyes. They were serious.
I sighed. “He’s… Carlos Montero. He’s who this conference is being held with.”
She gasped, her eyes expanding. “What!? Shit!” She cupped her mouth immediately, looking me over with disbelief. “But… how? How do you know him?”
“I guess that’s the kicker of it all…” I paused. “Remember that one night stand I told you about? Last weekend?”
“Yes,” she said, leaning in. “You said it was the best thing you ever could’ve done.”
I looked at her for a few seconds, hoping she’d realize what I was getting at.
Although it took a few seconds longer than I expected, she finally figured it out. She stood up rapidly, staring down at me with her wide green eyes. “You’re kidding. That’s him!?” she shrieked.
“Shh,” I hissed, yanking her back down. “Yes. That’s him.” I pressed my palm to my forehead, briefly closing my eyes.
“I can’t believe it,” she breathed.
“I can’t either,” I groaned.
“No, I mean you didn’t mention he was so fucking hot.” She playfully slapped my shoulder. “What did he say to you? Why was he so close? Most men usually pretend a one-night stand never happened when they have run-ins, especially when it involves work.”
I decided it was best not to tell Claire the details of Carlos and I’s conversation. I’d had it in my mind that I wasn’t going to see him again, no matter how mighty my lust was. That night was a test. I was testing myself. I wanted to be confident and outgoing. I wanted to be someone other than myself, and thankfully, he allowed me to accomplish that, but afterwards, I felt kind of ill. I’d never let a man use my body in so many ways before without getting to know him first. I was always the goody two-shoes kind of girl. I was the kind of girl that only showed her body to men that worked for it, or men I trusted. Not complete strangers. I’d slept with a total of three men: Johnny from twelfth grade (I’d dated him since my freshman year), my ex Terry, and Carlos.
“He didn’t say much,” I said. “Just that he had fun last weekend.”
“Wow.” She tossed her ha
ir. “This is going to be one awkward conference,” she sang.
Claire was right about that one.
Mr. Green barged into the room several minutes later, and he and his team set up with haste. I poured his coffee, and moments later, in strolled Jessica, escorting Montero. Two men followed behind him with briefcases and took a seat at the end of the long, mahogany table. I avoided his eyes at all costs, and I wanted to avoid having to go near him period, but Mr. Green demanded in a hiss that I give them coffee, even if they didn’t want it.
I poured Carlos’s coffee last. He watched me fill it up, and I asked if he’d like any sugar or crème. “Sure. Make it taste as sweet as you did,” he murmured so only I could hear.
I dumped two sugars and a teaspoon of crème in, doing my best to ignore the frenzy of nerves I felt swarming throughout my entire body. Mr. Green started the meeting with a sincere apology about his tardiness—well, to Montero and his men it seemed sincere. To me, it was utter bullshit. Mr. Green was never apologetic, but his excuse was reasonable. His daughter had a field trip that he’d attended and it ran longer than it was supposed to. Daddy duties.
The conference went on for about an hour, and during most of it, a heavy gaze weighed on me. Claire cleared her throat, nudging me with her elbow. I refused to look at her because I knew what she wanted to say. He was staring at me. I could feel it.
I hoped no one around the table noticed. It was highly unprofessional of him, and it would’ve been even more unprofessional if I stared back. So I kept my head down, and I only interacted whenever Green asked me to take a folder away or answer a question.
The conference was finally coming to a close, but just before it ended, Carlos spoke up. And what he asked caused me to spit my coffee back up. “Your assistant… how long has she been working with you?” he asked, switching his eyes between Green and me.
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