“How do you feel this morning?” she asks.
“I’m fine. By the way, I wasn’t intoxicated last night,” I clarify.
“I didn’t think you were drunk, but you looked tired as hell. How did the meeting go with Robert and that woman?”
“I wouldn’t call it a meeting. They ran down memory lane together. I was too pooped to listen.”
“So why did he need you there for that?”
“I don’t know. I think he was playing games with her, trying to get laid.”
“Does a man of his caliber need to play games to get laid?”
I roll my eyes and lift the paper cup to my lips. “Oh, certainly! He’s probably bored with women in general, so he has to play games to keep it exciting—create the thrill of the chase. ” I flop a hand dismissively. “But enough about him. How did your day go yesterday? We didn’t get a chance to debrief each other.”
“I saw the commercial. You’re a genius.”
“Only three or four times a month.” I wink.
Linda laughs. For the next fifteen minutes, she shows me her ideas. I offer her some tweaks and explain why I’m suggesting them. However, we can’t validate them until the stations go live.
“So you made a minor sponsorship a major one,” she exclaims.
“Visibility equals dollar signs. Plus, always take what you can get. I learned that under Valerie Beacon.”
“You mean, the Valerie Beacon at Alpha Media Group?”
“The one and only.”
“I would kill to work for her,” Linda says.
“She’s legendary. She taught me everything I know.”
“Well, that explains why you’re kicking ass at A&Rt.”
The driver waves at us from the lobby.
“Oh, just wait until I show you how to work it today,” I say as we get up to go.
“I can hardly wait,” she replies.
Regardless of being charged up, Linda and I spend the rest of the day freezing our asses off. Most of the booths are up and ready to go. The major sponsors are here and staking their claim. We continue to receive complaints that we’ve taken someone else’s real estate.
I teach Linda to never argue, only smile and fix. “If a woman is being a real bitch, calmly tell her you understand and shake her hand. We’re here to make friends, not enemies—this is rule number one in the Valerie Beacon handbook.”
“Is that Darius Shockey in your commercial?” a representative from one of the major networks asks as we test the video over the stage.
“Why yes,” I sing with a grin.
He frowns. I think he’s trying to see scales on my skin or fangs in my mouth. “Is that why you get three minutes?”
I feign surprise. “Really? Three minutes?”
He checks his watch. “You don’t know the length of your own commercial?”
“I’m not the director, but Darius is so good. He competes professionally. Did you know that?”
He pauses with his lips frozen in a cynical sneer. He extends a hand. “Randy Flushing.”
I shake it. “Maggie Conroy.”
“I’ll see you around, Maggie.” He regards me shrewdly one more time before walking away.
“Yep,” I whisper once he’s gone. I love when a person can graciously accept defeat.
The hours pass. Whenever Linda or I want to make a change, we find Darius or one of his representatives, and they let us do whatever we can get away with. By midnight, I’m a human ice-cube, but I have to be the last one standing so that none of our tweaks are changed. Thank God we only have one more long, cold day to protect our interests.
I find Linda inside the lodge lurking around the media room. She’s the only one left in the building, and it’s finally time to go. We give each other a weak high five and climb into the backseat of our chauffeured car.
“Wake up, ladies,” the driver says.
The heater and the dark cab put us right to sleep on the way back to the hotel. We drag ourselves out of the car and give each other hugs goodnight in the lobby. She drags to the east elevators, and I drag west.
I press the button. The doors open. Robert and Melanie are in an embrace. I wait for them to step out so that I can step in, but they stand there.
“Are you going up?” I ask.
“Yes, we are.” He displays his trademark grin.
I reluctantly join them. Her perfume makes me sneeze.
“Received some gripes about you today, young lady,” Robert says from behind me.
I don’t turn around. “Who, me?”
“Yes, you. They were all good for us. Most of them wanted to know how the hell you managed to make the End of March Powder an A&Rt Media Group event.”
I face him with a smile. “Is it too much?” I ask, secretly proud of Linda and myself.
“Aren’t you the judge of that?” he asks.
“It’s really good work, Maggie,” Melanie comments without even a hint of a smile.
I nod to say thank you. The elevator opens on my floor. “Have a good night,” I mumble over my shoulder.
To my utter disbelief, they exit right behind me.
“Good night,” Robert says. He’s amused by something.
I stop at my door, and they stop at the door next to mine. “Are you kidding me?” I bark.
Robert opens the door to his room. “I’ll return shortly.” He practically shoves Melanie inside.
Here he comes. “Why are you in the room next to mine?” I ask.
“This is the room I was checked into.”
“No, it isn’t,” I snarl.
“I wouldn’t lie to you about this.” There goes his cocky grin.
I shake my head. “You really are a game-playing jackass.”
Robert backs me up against my door. “Do you want me to release you?”
My lips part. I’m speechless. For the second time, Robert takes the opportunity to sink his hot tongue into my mouth. I kiss him back.
“I could get rid of her,” he says breathlessly.
I nudge his chest. “This is all wrong.”
“It’ll be our secret.”
I take two deep breaths. “Good night, Robert,” I say loud enough for Melanie to hear.
He smirks, gives me one more look, and goes to his room. Crisis averted. Once I’m inside my room, I turn on the light.
“Did he kiss you?”
I jump, startled. “Vincent? What are you doing here?”
He strolls in my direction as if he’s walking on air. That fire in his eyes is ablaze.
“I thought you were going to be in Saint Tropez until the end of the week,” I say past the frog in my throat.
He unzips my coat. “Why didn’t you answer my calls?”
A loud bang captures our attention. We turn toward Robert’s room. That was the headboard.
Vincent peels open my coat. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“Because…” I whisper. My teeth are chattering.
Vincent lowers his mouth to mine. My head feels like a cotton ball above my shoulders. He finishes taking off my coat while kissing me. He wraps me up in his arms and carries me to the bed. Our mouths refuse to pull apart. I’m whimpering. He moans.
Vincent tugs the layers of sweaters over my head. “Why do you have all of this on?” He yanks on the zipper of my pants.
“There’s snow outside,” I reply and go right back to kissing.
Vincent tugs on my bra to expose one of my breasts. He sinks his mouth over the nipple and sucks. I pitch my head back against the mattress to suck air between my teeth.
“Vincent, wait,” I finally say.
“Shit,” he curses. “These fucking clothes. I couldn’t get them off you fast enough.” He pulls off one of my tennis shoes and then the other. “You have on three pairs of socks? And stockings? You’re Fort Knox.”
I chuckle and grab his black T-shirt. “Just lie down beside me. Let’s talk.”
“I don’t want to talk. I want to make love to y
ou.”
He slides my pants down and then my stockings. I’m in nothing but my panties and bra with one breast covered and the other exposed.
“That’s better,” he says and stretches out beside me. “You let Robert get into your head, didn’t you?”
I pause to think. “Maybe. He’s right, though. You’re getting married.”
“It’s not set in stone.”
I face him. “Then you’re not getting married?”
He’s already staring at me. “When I look at you, I see the only woman I’m attracted to. Is Gabrielle beautiful? Yes. That’s undeniable. You’re more than beautiful. You’re my soul mate.”
“Are you saying you want to marry me?”
“If that’s what you want.”
I sit up. “No. That’s not what I’m saying. If you call off your engagement, I don’t want it to be because I promised you myself. Call it off for you, not me.”
Vincent pulls me beneath him before I can roll off the bed. He slips his fingers inside me. “You’re wet.”
“I’ll dry off as soon as you leave,” I snap. I sigh, regretting those words already. “Sorry, I forgot you’re not Robert.”
“He’s been pursuing you?”
“Aggressively.”
He flexes his jaw.
“Are you two still friends?” I ask.
“So far we are. He knows how I feel about you, but he wants me to move forward with the marriage.”
I narrow one eye. “And you don’t love Gabrielle?”
“No, I don’t.” He’s snippy.
“You’ve never loved her?”
“I liked her a lot. Love her? No.”
“Never?”
“No. Never.”
“Even before I came along?”
“Is that not part of never?”
I elbow him.
He chuckles. “Remember the last time I made love to you?”
“In the car?”
“That was epic. We have to beat that one day.”
The silence is disturbed by three bangs on the door. “Vincent, are you in there?”
He sighs with dread. “Gabrielle,” he whispers.
“My father is in the restaurant downstairs. He wants to talk to you. So stop fucking your high-class whore and get down there!” she yells.
I feel so cheap. Tears flood my eyes, and I flip on my side to turn away from him.
“Damn it, Maggie,” he says as he draws me into him.
“Go,” I demand.
He doesn’t let go of me. He sucks on my neck. His tongue draws circles on my shoulder. Down my back he goes, tasting away. When he reaches my ass, he takes my hips and flips me over. Vincent grabs my panties and yanks them to one side. The softness and warmth of his mouth consumes my clit.
I lift my head to see. “What are you doing?”
He increases the intensity. I whimper and grab the blanket. My sex sounds are uninhibited as I arrive at that climactic moment. I get louder. There’s more banging on the door, but Vincent doesn’t stop. Then my orgasm ripens, and I shriek at the top of my lungs.
He unzips his pants, spreads my legs, and jabs his dick into my pussy and his tongue into my mouth. This feels so damn right.
“Vince!” Robert shouts.
He’s screwing me fast and deep, and we’re kissing hard. With every thrust, he possesses more of my soul.
“Oh, shit,” he groans and sucks hard on my neck. He humps me faster and faster. “Oh!” he roars and jerks as he comes. As soon as he stills, he gathers me tightly against him. “Don’t forget that we belong to each other.”
He kisses my lips and gnaws on my nipples so that I can feel it. He pins his forehead against my chest. “I haven’t had enough of you yet,” he moans.
All I can do is lie here and bathe in the after-sparks of orgasmic sex.
Robert bangs on the door. “If you don’t come out, then I’m coming in!”
Vincent kisses his way down my sternum to my belly, licks my pelvis, and stands to straighten his pants. We maintain eye contact as he walks around the bed to kiss me one more time. “I’ll be making love to you in my dreams. Make love to me in yours.”
I nod.
When he opens the door, Robert is standing there. Robert gazes at my ravished body with a look that’s a cross between lust and anger. I think Vincent gave him a view of me on purpose to show him what he’ll never have.
I won’t shower tonight. I want Vincent’s scent all over me. I crawl under the blankets, close my eyes, and hope to have a different dream of him tonight, a sweet one.
On Thursday, I don’t run into Robert in the hallways. Linda and I replay Wednesday. By five p.m., she reassures me that she can take it from here. I hustle back to my room, call the airline, and book a commercial flight back to New York. I pack my things, make sure the coast is clear before I step out into the hallway, and take the hotel shuttle to the airport. I still haven’t run into Robert. It’s a good thing but a strange one as well. I do miss Vincent, though. I wonder where he is.
Chapter 15
Rejuvenated
Vincent Adams
Six months ago, Vincent had been up for it. He met Gabrielle at a dinner party hosted by their pain-in-the-ass business partner, her daddy Peter Rossetto. Despite her borderline incestuous relationship with her father, Gabrielle developed a thing for Vincent.
He’d thought she was pretty enough to ignore the fact that she often kissed her father on the mouth. Once or twice, Vincent thought he’d caught a glimpse of tongue being exchanged.
Peter had called and asked Vincent to take his daughter out for a night on the town. What the hell, Vincent thought. They went out to dinner twice. He banged her for dessert. On the second night, he held her during the afterglow of sex, and she said that she loved him. Vincent wasn’t repelled by her admission, but he couldn’t return the sentiment. Romantic love was something other men sought and experienced, not him.
Gabrielle had been easy to date. Her idea of fun was unique and extreme. Her buddy, international polo player Pedro Isla, spent an afternoon teaching them both how to hit the ball across a grassy field while riding a horse. They spent weekends at vineyards owned by politicians and international businessmen. They went from skiing in Switzerland to boating in St. Barthes. She liked destinations that started with “Saint”: St. Lucia, St. Barthes, St. Tropez, St. Moritz, etc.
Vincent had found her access enticing. Gabrielle strolled into the most exclusive clubs in the world with a wink, a smile, and her daddy’s money. They were having fun, but Vincent was well aware that one day they would part ways. He liked Gabrielle, but she wasn’t the one. She believed he was the one for her, though.
It had happened at a regular old meeting. Peter began with a speech about going to hell and back for the people he loved. Vincent and Robert thought Pete had finally lost the two marbles he had left. Rumors said that he was bipolar and foolishly impulsive. That’s why no one else would partner with the bastard, even if he did come with an unlimited resource of cash.
Vincent and Robert took a chance. Together, they contributed 1.5 billion dollars to build A&Rt Media Group. Peter Rossetto supplied a whopping three billion. The extra 1.5 billion gave him more power than he needed. So after the monologue on family and the love of a father was over, Robert had agreed to relinquish his controlling interest of A&Rt by letting them buy it back at the price of purchase if Vincent agreed to make “the love of his life” happy forever. At first, Robert and Vincent thought he was pulling their leg. He assured them he was serious and presented them with a notarized letter of intent. Three billion and a wedding, and Peter Rossetto would be out of their lives professionally. Sure, he’d gain a wacky father-in-law, but he would eventually figure out a way to legally divorce Gabrielle.
Regardless, Vincent’s initial response had been, “No way.”
After a long night of talking it out with Robert over three bottles of Jamaican rum, they had agreed to take the deal. After signing the contrac
t, Vincent scheduled a vasectomy. He had no intentions of neglecting their marital bed, but he didn’t want to bring children into their fucked-up situation either.
Then he’d seen Maggie at the wedding, sitting next to Charlie and giving him the same attitude she used to give him back in high school. Vincent felt as if he’d never stopped craving her. He could tell she didn’t remember him. Had he changed that much? She hadn’t changed at all. She was still the most interesting specimen in the room.
Where he came from, girls who looked like Maggie knew the price of their stock. Their mothers made sure of it. Maggie slouched, blew her nose in public and didn’t care who heard it, and she flipped girls like Kate Patrick the bird without caring that it shattered Kate’s shallow little world. Maggie was beautiful for sure, but more than that, she was sexy.
Fate had wanted him at the wedding. It just so happened that a week before the wedding, he had run into Jack Lord at the C-cup Café buying bagels for his pregnant fiancée. He’d heard that Jack and Charlie had inherited Lord’s Steel after their father died. However, Jack brokered the deal of the century by selling the company under the stipulation that he could repurchase twenty-five percent of the company within a year of the date of sale. Jack invested in high-stakes real estate and was able to buy that twenty-five percent. Vincent read that Belmont Jaxson Lord was worth 15.6 billion, but that was four years ago. Jack was probably worth double that by now.
When they spoke, Vincent had mentioned A&Rt Media Group to Jack. By the look on Jack’s face, Vincent could tell that he pitied Vincent for partnering with Peter Rossetto. Jack ended up inviting him to the wedding. Before they parted ways, Vincent asked about Maggie. He wondered if she had a husband and kids.
“Who? Mags?” Jack had snickered as if that was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. “No.”
Jack had the same blunt way of answering, “no” with no explanation that Maggie had.
There's Something About Her, A Manhattan Love Story (LOVE in the USA, #2) Page 16