by C. L. Donley
“Mm. So roomy,” Grayson smirked.
“Then you see where I’m going with this,” Amara giggled.
“Admit to me right here and now that you were giving blowjobs before me,” Grayson suddenly confronted Amara. “I won’t be angry, I promise.”
Amara giggled. “I can’t because then I would be lying,” Amara replied absent mindedly.
“There’s no way,” Grayson insisted.
“Did you ever think that maybe I’m a natural?”
“No such thing.”
Amara laughed. “Okay, so maybe I did have some tutelage.”
Grayson looked down at her intrigued.
“My girl taught me,” she said.
“The one who hates me,” Grayson differentiated.
“She doesn’t hate you anymore, that much. And no, not Mya.”
“The lawyer who wanted to sue me.”
“That’s the one.”
“How did your best friend, who I’m starting to love more and more, teach you to give blowjobs.”
“It’s stupid and involves bananas.”
“I’m on the edge of my seat,” he replied.
Amara smiled as she sighed.
“She just told me to practice on a peeled banana and try not to use my teeth.”
“And how many bananas were harmed in this endeavor before you figured out what you were doing.”
Amara laughed. “Not many, actually. Kim said if I was slobbering uncontrollably then I was doing it right.”
“I’m gonna nominate your friend for the Nobel Prize.”
More laughter from Amara.
“I can do that, you know. As a billionaire.”
“Really?” Amara asked curiously.
“No,” he giggled.
Another elbow.
“So… when exactly did you begin this self-taught course of yours,” he asked.
“Honestly?” Amara flirted in a low tone.
“Of course,” Grayson gave it right back to her. He was ready again.
“Right around the time I spoke to one Travis in Quality Control.”
Grayson beamed as his eyebrows went up.
“And just what were your intentions towards this Travis in Quality Control?”
“I was gonna find him and give him the business,” Amara mumbled.
“Maybe one day you still can,” Grayson stated innocently, his blue eyes dark and playful.
Amara looked down at his lips. She was ready again too.
“Well when he shows up, tell him I said to wear the cowboy hat,” Amara whispered as she went in for another slow, transportive kiss.
Eighteen
Amara's Calling: Slightly Alternate Ending
Amara sat at her workstation in MeTV headquarters, staring at nothing on her screen. She was exhausted from lack of sleep that’d gotten worse as she got closer to the day. Last night? She was lucky if she could’ve strung three hours together. Just now she was fidgety from nerves and coffee, hopelessly distracted and feeling as though she would burst from her skin. The only thing she wanted in life was to get this moment out of the way.
Grayson Davis would be in the building today.
Grayson and Bel had had a talk scheduled for the employees at MeTV for months, long before Amara was ever working there. The office was abuzz much in the same way it had been when he showed up that fateful day at Webster, now nearly three months ago. Only she felt it worse and for much less apparent reasons.
Now that she worked for his good friend Bel Hafiz, she anticipated a run-in or two, and though she was prepared for it, now that it was here a lot of emotions were surfacing, namely fear.
First of all, it’d been two months since she’d last seen Grayson. And it wasn’t the way she liked to remember him. It wasn’t so much the barrage of insults hitting her ear that she reflected on, it was the sight of him walking callously away from her that haunted her dreams. She wasn’t even afraid of him being mean to her at all. She was afraid of seeing his unwillingness to even acknowledge her— or worse— that cool, uwavering professional persona in its place.
With no official statement from either of them, the world at large still thought they were an item, just on a bit of a “break” while Grayson worked out his health issues. Everyone knew that they were in separate parts of the world, and few cared enough to hypothesize whether the meltdown had been the catalyst or the result of their trial separation.
Upon hearing the announcement that Grayson would be stepping down as CEO because of the autism diagnosis and the subsequent meltdown in Montenegro, Amara began researching everything she could on Asperger’s syndrome. When she did she was blown away. There he was in black and white. The mood swings, his inflexibility about plans, the blunt way he spoke, the meltdowns, every symptom could be satisfied by the explanation of high-functioning autism. She’d kept up the charade on her end, for both their sakes. On the rare occasion she was cornered by TMZ or some such press outlet, she echoed the same requests for privacy that Grayson had in his official statements.
She at least had one good thing to take solace in, and that was her new job. Amara loved working at MeTV. She basically got paid to goof around with a camera and come up with ideas. Bel was a famously hands-off CEO. If you had an idea, he expected you to execute it. And he wasn’t stingy about giving you resources, including other fellow employees. It was just the kind of freedom Amara dreamed of but never thought possible at a corporation. It was enough to make you wonder just how the guy was making any money, yet it also made you realize just how much he must be making to afford such an investment in just potential.
Around 10am the employees began filing into the vast multimedia room.
“Amara, you comin’ or what?” her good friend and co-worker Maggie dropped in on her.
“I’m right behind you, I just gotta finish up some stuff.”
“I thought you’d be in the front row by now.”
“I’m his girlfriend, not a groupie,” Amara scoffed.
“Well…mind if I sit in the front row?” Maggie raised an eyebrow.
“Girl, get you some,” Amara smirked.
After fifteen minutes the offices were a wasteland and Amara was still at her desk. A shaking, blubbering mess. She was afraid someone was going to come looking for her.
Pull it together, woman! she thought to herself. She purposely hadn’t dressed for the occasion. She didn’t even want to entertain the idea that she could somehow have the advantage today. She had absolutely none. Grayson still had her heart, and today was the day she was going to find out just what he intended to do with it.
* * *
“The goal is not to fix your weaknesses, but to amplify your strengths, and to surround yourself with people who can do what you can’t do. This is how trust is solidified. And we all need trust— not only to survive, but to thrive.”
It was a good thing that Grayson had given enough of these talks that he could give them on autopilot, because no one would suspect that at this moment he was a million miles away.
He knew she was here. He’d spent the morning nervous to run into her. His heart grew erratic when he walked in, when he turned down a random hallway or corner. And finally when he entered the MeTV conference room and employees began filing in. When he’d waited five extra minutes for “stragglers” but there was still no sign of her, most of him simply wanted to turn and walk out.
His fears had been right, there was no going back to the way things were. Once he was discharged from the hospital, all hope that Amara could ever take him back again was stripped from him. He didn’t know why, maybe it was guilt. Maybe it was simply odds. He knew eventually he would have to face her, and it’d been long enough.
But perhaps he’d waited too long. He thought that the scheduled talk would’ve been an appropriate time to finally confront her but now he was realizing his mistake. She was gone.
“Second point: Every decision we make in our lives is a piece of communication,” he went on.
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While he was lost in thought, his mouth disconnectedly moving while he internally licked his emotional wounds, he caught the shift in light in the corner, the sign of a door opening in the back of the dimly lit room.
He was blinded by the spotlight but saw a familiar, nay unmistakeable, silhouette finding a seat at the top of the stadium style rows. Grayson thought he would have a heart attack and the feeling was no false alarm, it was the real deal.
Amara.
“Amara Riley is in the building,” he casually announced.
The room became electric, as they expected to see some celebrity couple action today and he’d delivered. A few people craned their neck in Amara’s direction, smiling, some of which were the very people that’d maligned her in private.
Amara was conscious of the gossip pockets that faithfully accompanied her, about the true nature of their supposed “relationship,” but if there was any doubt that it was more than physical between them, Grayson instantly put that to rest. His demeanor shifted warmly, even his posture changed.
“I can feel your energy, girl,” he suddenly added without looking up. The room tittered enthusiastically as they got a growing window of insight into their relationship. They all could sense Grayson’s admiration, Amara’s embarrassment, and it was generally decided that the two of them were completely adorable.
Grayson could indeed feel her energy, and he was relieved to feel no malice. Just that same wide-eyed, optimistic jois de vivre that he’d come to adore, especially in its absence. He suddenly felt silly for thinking he could ever snuff that out. Grayson broke out into a grin, a lump in his throat and his energy renewed but his mind completely blank, unfortunately.
“Okay, help me out, what was I talking about,” he offered. More tittering as the crowd helped him to get back on track.
As the crowd began to file out an hour later, Amara stayed seated in the back.
“See you later Amara,” a few of the co-workers that she’d never seen offered on their way back to their desk.
She gained a few more acquaintances it seemed. The same phenomenon must happen to Grayson ad nauseum, she thought. Even now some had lined up at the front of the room to ask more questions, take selfies or both, and Grayson graciously talked with everyone afterwards, even though everything in him wanted to grab Amara by the hand and hightail it right out of there. No one suspected this was the first time they’d seen each other in two months. No one except Bel, of course. He joined her at the back of the room, giving her a mischievous look.
“What’s that look?”
He just shook his head.
“Alright everybody, back to work,” he loudly announced from his chair. He gave Amara a wink before he got up to leave.
As the straggling employees headed back to their offices Amara made her way to the front of the room, her hands in the pockets of her oversized wool sweater.
“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” Grayson said.
“I wouldn’t miss it,” Amara smiled.
When she walked in the room and he acknowledged her, all her anxiety left her, but she wanted to run back out and cry her eyes out in private. Instead she was glued to her chair, unable to draw any more attention to herself than he already had, watching his familiar face and listening to his soothing baritone through blurry eyes.
“I trust you got my birthday present,” he said.
“I did,” she smiled. “Shares! I’m such an idiot,” she shook her head.
He laughed, relaxing a bit. “It was your first sex contract, don’t be too hard on yourself.”
“You look good,” she volunteered.
He sighed and then nodded. “I feel…”
He didn’t want to say “good,” even though he felt it.
At least he had. Until today.
“Feel what, Grayson Davis,” Amara said. He chuckled.
“Um, I feel…” he ventured cautiously, his articulation completely vanishing. “Like…I want to…touch you and kiss you and put my arms around you. But I can’t.” His eyes retreated to the floor.
Amara’s heart felt as though it were trying to get free from her chest.
“You can’t because…you’re not paying for it anymore?” Amara asked nervously.
“No. Because I am.”
Amara bit her lip but it was no use. The tears started falling. She was amazed she was able to hide her emotion as long as she had.
“I’m so sorry, Amy. Amara. I’ve never been more sorry. About anything.”
“It’s okay, I get it,” Amara quickly replied.
“You do?”
She nodded.
“Mind explaining it to me?”
She laughed. “I’m sorry too,” she said, wiping her eyes.
He looked back at her in disbelief.
“For what?” he chuckled a bit.
“For… leaving you there. Alone. When you needed me.”
He drew a breath and shook his head, eyes glistening with emotion. It was useless to argue with her, that much he knew. He put his head down.
“It’s okay, I get it,” he simply said back. She smiled.
“I um… I’m glad you didn’t go through with suing me.”
“Jesus,” he rolled his eyes, leaning back against the desk at the front of the room. “Please tell me there’s a chance that you didn’t see that… thing that I made.”
“Oh, you mean the invoice? The one where I owe you money?” she laughed, with a little snort at the end. He wanted to pull her close. Instead he gripped the sides of the desk. He didn’t trust his eyes not to send the message so he focused them downward, grinning at the sight of her beautiful body masked by that oversized sweater.
“Would you like to know how ridiculous I am?” she began. When he didn’t answer right away she continued, “I actually found it kind of romantic.”
He suddenly had his head cocked and his brow furrowed, registering the slight changes in her breasts and around her middle. He really did reach out to grab her then, underneath her massive sweater. He put her hands around her waist and she gasped. Suddenly his hands were on her again. Her brain short circuited.
“Are you…??” was all he could say. His dark blue eyes mowed her down.
“I- I was… just about to tell you,” she stammered. It came out in a whisper as she returned his alluring gaze. Her breath quickened. She knew how he felt about not wanting a family.
Emotion crumpled his gorgeous expression. His jaw clenched and he lowered his head to the floor again, color seeping into his face.
Instantly it was as though an invisible barrier between them was broken. Invisible because it simply was a figment of their imaginations.
There was no barrier between them. Amara watched quietly as his insides manifested on the outside, his composure completely betraying him.
“It’s not official yet. I mean… it’s still… early,” she mumbled dismissively, her voice wavering as she wiped away a fresh run of her tears. “I just…figured I’d, you know, run into you today so…”
His laugh was a breath. He smiled, nodding his head.
“You’re not…upset?”
He sniffed and shook his head, his composure slowly returning.
“Good,” Amara let out a staggered breath and smiled. “I was worried, I’m not gonna lie,” she laughed. He wasn’t saying anything else so she began again nervously.
“What do you say we just…start over? Take things slow I mean, obviously a baby speeds things up a bit but—”
“Marry me.”
“Grayson,” she frowned. “You don’t have t—”
“I know I don’t have to. I’m not asking because of…” he put a hand underneath her shirt. She put her hand over his, trembling for so many reasons now. She tried to be mindful of the tender moment but the very sight of his hand on her skin was igniting her.
“Lying in a hospital bed for a month afforded me a lot of time to think, as you can imagine.”
Then he got down on his knees in fr
ont of her, lifting up her shirt and running his mouth over her stomach as he kissed.
Was this the population control guy??
If he was trying to be paternal, her body was not getting that signal. She put her hands in that gorgeous soft hair of his and her head unconsciously flew back.
“Grayson please, it’s been two months…” she sighed.
He smirked. Trust me I know, he thought.
“You want me?” he teased.
“Yes,”
“Only me, right now and forever?”
Holy shit. “Yes, yes and yes.”
“Then say you’ll marry me.”
“Oh my God!”
He was unbuttoning her jeans as he said it. This was the best fucking proposal that’d ever been given by anyone, she was sure of it.
He was rock hard at the sounds, sights and feel of Amara under his touch and spell. He could smell her, for the first time in months, and his hands trembled as he pulled her jeans down enough to get a peek. When he saw how wet she was already, the world vanished around him as he gave her a prolonged lick.
“Fuck, I’m getting fired today, goddamn you,” she moaned. The doors to the auditorium locked from the outside, but could be opened with keycards. Anyone with the right clearance could catch her. Including Bel. Yikes. The thought sobered her.
“Wait wait wait come with me,” she said hastily.
Grayson got up from his position on the floor yanking her jeans up.
“How far?” he panted.
She grinned as she took his hand and led him to the conference room’s supply closet, one of the many places she’d scouted out since she’d started there. Ever since their scandalous rendezvous at Solon she couldn’t help her growing compulsion to find nooks, crannies and boring spaces in which to potentially fuck. Now that she was finally about to use one she could hardly catch her breath.
“You haven’t given me an answer,” he said, closing the door behind them and turning off the lights, turning the room blue. There was still plenty of light coming through the 3rd floor windows.
“You know good and damn well what my answer is,” Amara answered, crushing her body against his as she pinned herself to a wall.