“I needed to talk to you,” she said, and Matthew shook his head.
“We kind of talked about everything we could back in Paris,” he said as she looked back at him. “And why the hell do you look like the girlfriend of some eighties drug kingpin?” he asked, and she smiled.
It was at that moment that he realized that she was a little more made up than usual.
“Were you going somewhere or something?” he asked, and she shook her head.
“You could say that,” she said in a soft voice as she gently pulled the two ends of her coat apart revealing what he had onside: black satin and lace lingerie with garters that secured her panties to the stockings she had on.
“Missy…” he started as she began walking towards her. “What are you doing?”
“Doing what you clearly want to but somehow don’t have the guts to,” she said as she let the coat fall to the floor. “You have to admit that we have chemistry. The way we fuck, Matthew, you have to admit that no one can do that thing with the tongue in that naughty place the way I can and I know that no other decent girl out there who would let you cum in her face the way I let you do.”
He shook his head.
“Missy,” he said again as he rubbed his temple again.
“You know that is why you and I have such a great sexual chemistry,” she said. “Because we have no strings attached. Unless, of course, you ask me to use the string ties in which case I am very much for every string attached.”
By this time, she was standing right in front of him and backing them up against the wall as she let her hands slip into his shirt.
“Missy…”
But she was still touching him. Maybe even caressing him. He sighed when they got to the wall and she pressed her body against his own.
“Remember when we hooked up that very first time and we missed that meeting you were supposed to have in Phnom Penh?” Her hands were now on his waist, gently undoing his pants button and zipper. “And we were talking of all the things that we both liked, and I let you do all sorts of stuff to me? Like that very perfect anal sex that blew your mind?”
He shook his head.
“We can do that again,” she said as she touched his now rigid cock. “And I already know you want to.”
That was it. He could not take it anymore. He held her hands and pushed her away.
“Damn it, Missy, this has never been a no strings attached situation. You know that and I know that.”
He sighed in frustration and walked away.
“You need to give me back my key and you need to leave,” he said as he looked at her.
She sighed and shook her head.
“What the hell are you talking about? Why are you being so weirdly stand offish?” she asked, and he shook his head. “And what do you mean that this was never a no strings attached thing?”
He took a long deep breath and walked back to the kitchen. He turned to look at her for a second before he opened the fridge. He took the casserole dish out of the fridge and got the oven started before he leaned against the counter. He was trying to figure out the right words, but the frustration he had in him was making it almost impossible for him to talk. He already knew what Missy was before she settled on being a full-time publicist or rather when he forced her to become a full-time publicist. She had worked as a publicist to some of the top people in the country. Athletes, writers who topped the New York Times Best Seller lists, billionaires…and it was always the same thing. He always got to them right after they had hit the big jackpot as far as the money was concerned. And sometimes it was like she was nothing more than a good for nothing gold digger. He knew this much because he had tried hitting on Missy before he became a millionaire, and she never gave him the time of day. But things suddenly changed when he was featured in a magazine as one of the rising stars to watch after Matt the Nomad began getting noticed. Granted, she did have a lot to do with where Matt the Nomad was now, but he could not help but feel that there was so much more he could have done with someone else. After all, she was not the only publicist out there.
“Well?” Missy pressed. “What do you have to say to justify what you just said?”
“Do you remember the first time we met?” he asked as he put the casserole in the oven, and she nodded.
“Yes. It was in New York,” she said. “At the party thrown by that kid from Silicon Valley.”
He forced out a laugh and shook his head.
“Really?” he asked, and she shrugged.
“I don’t think I would have something like that wrong,” she said as she began walking towards the kitchen counter.
“Actually, that was not the first time we met,” he said as he looked at her. “The first time we met was right here in Boston. And I remember that day a little too well.”
“Here in Boston?” she asked. “Are you sure.”
He nodded.
“Yes. Just a few weeks after I started Matt the Nomad. I had just done my first few articles about great holiday spots in the country and you just happened to be at a party thrown by a good friend of mine, James Torrance.”
She raised an eyebrow over the other.
“James Torrance as in Jimmy Torrance from the Boston Celtics?” she asked, and he nodded.
“Yeah, Jimmy and I grew up in the same neighborhood before he started playing varsity ball where he was drafted and he had a big party celebrating his thirtieth birthday at The Red Room a few years ago. Remember?” he asked, and she bit her lower lip.
“Wait, you were at the Torrance party at The Red Room?” she asked, and he nodded.
“Yes. And you were dating Phil Abrahams, you know from The Red Sox. And then after him, there was a rumor that you were with some footballer from the English Premier League and after that there was some guy from Australia, a billionaire music producer.” He took a long deep breath, and she shrugged.
“Where are you going with all this?” she asked.
“Isn’t it obvious?” he asked. “I mean the fact that you don’t remember meeting me at The Red Room and telling me, and I quote, that ‘You don’t have time for people who do nothing for your career’ tells me a lot.”
She shrugged.
“You cannot blame me for wanting to move forward in my career,” she pointed out.
“See, that is the problem. For you, I was nothing for you but a stone for you to step on to get higher and I think I have done everything I can for you.”
“You’ve done as much as you can for me?” she asked, and he nodded.
“I think it would be better if we just dissolved our partnership and I started working with another publicist,” he said. “Especially a publicist who I don’t sleep with.”
She shook her head and bit her lip again.
“You can’t do this,” she said, and he sighed out loud.
“Actually, I can. I have every right to do so. The lawyer told me so,” he said. “I got him to draw the papers dissolving our partnership. You will probably get them tomorrow, but like I said, there are no legal ramifications.”
She walked around to where he was and stood in front of him, her arms crossed over her chest.
“Did you ever think for one second that I was with you because I had feelings for you? Real, genuine feelings?” she asked, and he shrugged.
“I don’t think you mean that,” he said, and she forced out a laugh.
“Why? Because in your head you have made me out to be some kind of gold digger?” she asked. “Just because I happen to like the finer things in life and I have dated a few high profile men?”
He shook his head and sighed.
“Those are your words, Missy. Not mine.”
“But that was what you meant, right?” she asked, and he switched off the oven. He could feel his heart racing as he tried getting the right words in his mind to actually tell her just what he thought. But every single word he seemed to be coming up with sounded terrible in his head. Because everything she had said was exactly what
he thought of her. A terribly annoying gold digging bitch who would stop at nothing to get what she wanted.
“This is exactly why this partnership won’t work anymore,” he said. “And I know I owe you for what you have done for me over the years with Matt the Nomad, but I think this is where everything stops.”
She shook her head and took a step forward and held his hand, but he pulled away.
“No…we can’t.”
“Why not? Why the hell would you not want all this?” she asked. “What are you not telling me?”
“There is nothing to tell, Missy. All I know is that things went a little too far. Further than I ever intended them to, and we can’t go back there.”
She rolled her eyes and shook her head.
“And why is that? Found someone new or something?” she asked in a cynical voice, and he bit his lower lip, wondering what to say. “Wait, did you find someone new?” she asked when she noticed he had suddenly grown a little too silent.
“I need my key back,” he said in a soft voice. “Right now, Missy.”
She put a hand up and shook her head.
“Wait, I have been following your schedule for the past few weeks and you have not met anyone new in a long time, so I don’t understand who you could have met lately that would make you...” Her voice trailed off.
He stretched out his hand and looked at her, wondering what he had to do to get his spare key back.
“Just give me the key, Missy. I don’t want this to turn ugly.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Turn ugly?” she asked. “And how would that happen? You would put your hands on me or something?”
“Actually, Yolanda is on her way back and you know that she doesn’t like you very much,” he said.
“Well, is it more important for you to take your company public or to have a clean house, Matthew?” she asked. “Because it is obvious you don’t have your priorities straight.”
“Key, Melissa!”
He was now feeling himself getting angrier by the second, and he did not want to get himself too worked up.
“Italy,” she suddenly said. “You usually just stay at the villa for a few days, and it is always when there is something happening in Milan so that you can score some kind of models or something, but this time around, there was absolutely nothing going on in Italy. The social calendar was totally and completely clear.”
“I don’t have to discuss my personal life with you,” she said.
“So, you admit it,” she said as she slowly walked towards him, and he began taking a step back. “Going to Italy was personal.”
“Melissa, I am not going to ask you again.”
She shook her head and walked to where she had dropped her coat. She picked it up and put it on before she reached for her phone.
“You know, the only new person I know you met lately is that web designer and she is a five on her best day, so she is definitely not the one,” she said as she began walking back to where she was.
“Watch your fucking mouth, Missy. I am warning you,” he suddenly snapped, and she looked at him, surprised.
It took a few minutes before she finally realized just what was going on.
“Wait,” she said in a soft voice. “You…and her?”
“And what is so bad about her?” he asked. “She is a woman just like you are.”
She forced out a cynical laugh and wagged her index finger in his face.
“For starters, you will never find a woman like me. That’s for sure.”
He wanted to say that he knew plenty of women out there who were like her.
“And two, why the hell would you ever think that I would lower myself enough to allow you to choose that…” She shook her head when her words failed her. “Do you have some fat person fetish or something? Is that it?”
“Natasha is a beautiful woman and the first one who has looked at me like a man rather than a paycheck. Because let’s face it, all I have been for you is simply that. A paycheck and a gateway to a better, way more financed lifestyle than what I can give you, and since you obviously cannot cash the relationship check, I am not going to let you ruin the one shot I have at true happiness by throwing yourself at me every chance you get.”
She was about to give him an answer when the front door opened and they heard Yolanda’s voice.
“You need to leave, Missy,” he said in a soft voice as Yolanda walked into the kitchen pulling a small suitcase behind her.
“Hola.” Yolanda’s voice was as cynical as always as was the case every single time she was in Missy’s presence. “I thought you were supposed to hand over your spare key,” she said as she looked at Missy who slammed the key against the counter.
“You know what, you two deserve each other,” Missy said, and Yolanda shrugged.
“Good people generally do,” she said, and Missy shook her head.
“You know what, Leander, I will not give you the satisfaction of firing me. I quit!”
Matthew exhaled loudly when she walked to the door and slammed it shut behind her. He turned around and forced a smile as he looked at Yolanda.
“I think you should change the locks,” she said, and he laughed.
“I missed you too, Yolanda,” he said as he walked up to her to give her a quick hug. “But she already gave me the key back. I think we are safe.”
Yolanda shook her head as she pulled away.
“Did you see the look in her eyes? I have seen it before, and I would not be surprised if she snuck in one night and killed you while you are asleep,” she said, and Matthew frowned.
“Why do you always have to be so dark, Yolanda?” he asked as he put two plates on the counter and then put on a pair of oven mitts.
“Because I have seen it happen,” she said. “Loca women always feel like they have something to prove.”
He opened the oven and put the casserole dish on the counter.
“Are you joining me for dinner?” he asked as he began serving the casserole onto one plate.
“Have you ever known me to say no to food? Especially food that I have made?” she asked as she washed her hands before she walked around the counter and took a seat on the other side of the breakfast bar. “So, what is going on?” she asked.
“What are you talking about?” he asked, and Yolanda shook her head.
“Don’t try to act like what just happened was normal…I mean, it made me happy to finally see that woman go, but I have been trying to get rid of her for years. And now she is gone just like that?” she asked. “What did you do?”
He shrugged and handed her one of the plates.
“Well, I was not the man she wanted,” he said. “We were working and I did mess up…”
“You slept with her again?” she asked, and he shook his head.
“No. I didn’t,” he said. “And I think that was part of the problem.”
“She wanted to sleep with you again?” she asked, and he shrugged.
“Why do you think she was here?”
“El diablo,” Yolanda said in a whisper.
“I know what that means you know,” Matthew pointed out, and she shook her head.
“That is the kind of woman she is. A devil and I am not ashamed to say that,” she said. “I know people in the prison at Ciudad who are more innocent than that woman.”
He raised an eyebrow as he pulled a bottle of red wine from the rack and began working the corkscrew.
“I think you know a little too many people. Too many dangerous people,” he said, and she took a bite of her casserole.
“If you come from where I come from, then you know a whole lot of dangerous people because you have to. Or you es muerte.”
He frowned and shook his head before he poured two glasses of wine.
“Well, the important thing is that Missy doesn’t work for me anymore, and I think I am in love,” he announced, making Yolanda look up at him in surprise.
“Que?” she asked.
�
��I had someone with me out in the Italian villa and she is…perfect.”
“Do I know her?” Yolanda asked, and Matthew shook his head.
“No. You don’t, and I am afraid I might have screwed it up with her,” he said.
Yolanda looked at him and shrugged.
“What did you do?” she asked.
Matthew leaned on the counter and took a long deep breath.
“I spent a magical time with her for two weeks in Italy and then left on tour for eight weeks and I have not talked to her since,” he said. “And being on tour without her just proved to me what I was trying to ignore.”
Yolanda was silent for a long second before she spoke again.
“Come here,” she said, and he shook his head.
“What?”
“Come here, you have a little something on your cheek,” Yolanda said as he walked up to where she was, but instead of her removing whatever was on his cheek, she gave him a loud resounding slap on his arm.
“Ouch!” He took a step back. “What the hell was that for?”
“For being stupid,” she said. “Because it is obvious that you met a good girl, but for some reason you did not even call her in the last eight weeks, and for some of the people I know, that is enough to get you stabbed in your sleep!”
“Yolanda, you are going to that dark place again,” he said in a warning tone.
“I want you to eat your food and go out to that girl,” she said matter of factly.
“But it is almost ten,” he complained, and Yolanda shook her head.
“Does she live with her mother or a husband?” she asked, and Matthew shook his head. “Then you are going to apologize and get the girl.”
He exhaled loudly.
“You realize that this is my house and you are essentially kicking me out,” he said, and she nodded.
“Oh, I know that, but I live here too, and I am tired of seeing the kinds of that devil Mona come and go,” she said.
“Her name is Missy,” he said and she shrugged.
“It does not matter. She is still un diablo loco. Y te mereces algo mejor.”
He raised an eyebrow over the other.
“You deserve a good woman. That is all I am saying.”
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