Oh, God, this Royal scandal will never go away.
“Well, it was a small feature. Nothing impressive,” I lie.
“The piece must have made quite the impression on James because he’s called every single day while you were in Toronto and he came to the office and camped in the reception area for days. It was almost as if he was hoping we were lying about your whereabouts. I think we would have called the NYPD, but James is very handsome. Both Jody and I loved looking at him and he’s charming. Those European men are so different.”
Tell me about it. “So what does he look like? What made you and Jody lose it?” I mock. This guy must have been pretty hot to seduce two of my employees while he was camping at my office.
“I think the man is in his late fifties or early sixties, but he’s the spitting image of Jesse Williams, who played Dr. Jackson Avery on Grey’s Anatomy. James is very tall, I’d say six three, and elegant. He speaks with a Spanish accent. I believe he’s mixed—he must have one parent who is white and the other black—and he’s light-skinned with the most beautiful blue eyes I’ve ever seen in my life. I swear, every time I had to explain to him you were still on a business trip, I’d lose myself in his eyes.”
“Wow. I was never a fan of the medical show, but from your description, James sounds handsome.”
“You have no idea! In any case, his good looks are the only reason we allowed him to come to the office as many times as we did.”
“So he wants to talk design ideas? Will he be back in New York soon?”
“No, he left last Thursday. He wants to fly you to Barcelona so you can help him shape his creative vision.”
“Barcelona? He’s sweetened the pot for me. I love that city.”
“Yes, he’s asked for you to fly in for four days. He said he’d pay for your entire trip—first class, of course. The guy looked so eager, I think he’s a high roller with a lot of money to burn.”
I’m surely attracting a lot of rich and handsome European men lately.
“I doubt I can fly out this week since there’s so much to do before we go back to Toronto in seventeen days, but maybe I have time on my schedule next week. Can you ask him if that works for him? I don’t want him to wait too long, because this could be a great opportunity for the firm, but I have to take care of a few urgent things over the next few days.”
“I’ll get on it immediately. Will you be flying out with any of the designers?”
“Great question, but since we don’t know if this James guy is legit or not, I’ll go check him out first. I don’t want to invest anyone’s time on this since everyone will be super busy with the Toronto project.”
“I got it. Let me get back to James and you can debrief me on what else I need to take care of in the coming days.”
“Thank you, Meghan, you’re the best.”
“Oh, one more thing. I can’t find any James Echev on Google. I even tried searching on Google Spain, but his name didn’t come up and to be honest, my Spanish is so bad I wouldn’t be able to understand anything.”
“I can do a quick search later. If he’s from Spain, maybe James is not his real name. Maybe he uses that name to make it easier for gringos like you to remember,” I say, teasing her.
“Point taken. I really should improve on my language skills. All right, I’m going to let you get on with your day.”
“I’ll see you later, Meghan.”
* * *
I’ve been sitting at Ava Lounge for thirty minutes sipping on my second lychee martini. I couldn’t handle my first day back and I left work early, ran home, jumped into a sultry skin-tight outfit, slipped into a pair of fuck-me heels and grabbed a cab to meet Harley. This is New York City and I never know when I’m going to meet a new lover, so I always dress to seduce.
Do I get to meet new men if I’m willing to see Nikolaj again?
It was so much easier when I stuck to my dating rules. I didn’t have to ask myself these types of silly questions. I hope Harley can help bring out the old Ciara.
I should text her to let her know I’ll be at the bar.
Honey, I’ll be the tall one with the big hair at the bar. I’m wearing a fierce new pair of four-inch Louboutin heels I bought a couple weeks ago and I’m so ready for this night. Get yourself here a.s.a.p., babe.
-----
Girl, I’ve got to step up my game since you’re already so much taller than I am. I’m going to get this cab to turn around so I can go back home and change shoes. I need to slip in a pair of five-inch heels and even then I’ll still look short next to you.
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Harley, you’re the sexiest blonde I know in New York City. You look good in anything you wear. I’m sure you’re going to leave every man here begging.
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Keep sweet talking and I might give up men for you.
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Whatever ;-) You love cock too much. When are you going to get here?
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I’m close. I’ll be there in ten minutes.
-----
Hurry. I’ve already polished off two martinis.
It was impossible to get any work done with Nikolaj’s words still ringing in my head. Everywhere I turned, there were beautiful little reminders of him in my office. He’s done a great job at invading my space.
What have I gotten myself into by agreeing to see a guy I casually fucked?
Any night is a fun night at Ava Lounge, but tonight there’s something in the air. Maybe it’s the determination with which most New Yorkers are intent on soaking up every last ray of this late-summer sun. Or could it be because the most fashionable people in the city are crammed on this rooftop to admire the stunning view?
This place is like being fourteen floors closer to heaven.
Suddenly a voice to my right speaks.
“What an incredible night.”
I turn my body on the stool to look at the eager face and I take him in from head to toe, stopping at his worn shoes before meeting his close-set eyes. “Yes, early September is quite magical in New York.” I hope he’s not going to try to pick me up.
“I’m sorry, but can I buy you a drink?”
Here we go.
“Thanks, but I’m good for now.”
“I’m sorry for being so bold, but you’re so beautiful. I mean, you’re a vision. I’m sure you must get compliments all the time.”
“I’m flattered.”
“There are some goddesses living in New York City, but you really set the bar high.”
“Oh, my, stop it, you’re going to make me blush,” I lie.
Not my type.
“I’m sorry, you’ve disarmed me so much I’ve forgotten my manners. My name is Steven Hoffman,” he says, extending his hand. “May I sit down?”
God, this is déjà vu.
The only difference is this time the interlocutor is not a sexy six-foot-three Danish hunk with a nine-inch cock. Steven is five seven at the most, terribly out of shape, dressed in an ill-fitted suit and he’s holding on for dear life to the last few strands of hair on his head. He’s not handsome or even charming, but he does have guts.
“Steven, I’m waiting for someone.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”
Do I really want to tell him my real name? This guy doesn’t stand a chance. “Steven, I’m sure you’re a great guy but…”
A sultry voice comes from behind Steven. “Are you hitting on my girlfriend?”
We both turn to face Harley.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you…” Steven stops in mid-sentence with a confused look on his face.
“You didn’t realize my girl here isn’t into cocks.”
“Pardon me?”
I can’t tell if Steven looks offended, hurt or turned on.
“Listen, I don’t know who you are, but I get pretty pissed off when men think they can hit on my girl because she’s smoking hot and she has a body to die for.” Harley is staring at me with a devilis
h glee and I recognize that look. She’s in the mood to play.
This is so entertaining and I don’t even have to say a word.
Steven opens his mouth, but he’s too stunned by the news to speak.
“So you see a single woman at a bar and you think you can come up and annoy her?” Harley is standing next to me giving the performance of her life.
“I wasn’t annoying her. I was making conversation. I didn’t know she was with someone.”
“I saw you trying to sit on this stool,” she says, caressing my cheek the way a lover would.
“I asked politely before sitting down.” He jumps to his feet and takes a few steps back.
“Baby, was this man hitting on you?”
I clear my voice in attempt to avoid laughing aloud. “Well, Steven here was trying to get quite friendly and I tried a few times to let him know I was waiting for someone, but…” I pretend to be helpless.
“Your name is Steven?” She gets close to him and shakes a manicured finger at him as she grinds her neck like a reality TV diva.
“Yes. Listen, I’m sorry. I misunderstood things.”
“Damn right you did.”
Oh, she’s good.
“Baby, this bad man didn’t offend you, I hope,” she says, turning to me. Her green eyes sparkle with pleasure when I muffle a laugh. “Men. They think we all yearn for them. Ninety-eight percent of them couldn’t find a clitoris with a road map. Can you make a woman come with your tongue, Steven?” She flashes him a wicked smile and he looks even more panicked than he did before.
“I, well…”
Poor Steven.
“Let me tell you something, Steven.” She walks back towards me and trails a finger down the middle of my chest while holding his gaze. “I have everything I need to satisfy my girl,” she says, pulling my hair back and kissing me on the lips.
I grab the back of her head, open my mouth and meet her tongue. I can see from the corner of my eyes the shock on Steven’s face.
“Oh, baby, did you miss me?” Harley follows my cue as if she’s vying for an Oscar. “I love your luscious lips.”
“Which ones?” I ask with a devilish smile as I turn my head to face Steven.
“Oh, you’re a dirty one. I know what you’re craving and I’ll take care of you later tonight.”
“Promise?”
“You know it, baby.” Harley crushes my lips and kisses me passionately.
Damn, she’s good. She could make me believe we’re lovers.
Steven’s jaw drops open and he lowers his glasses in disbelief. “Oh, I made a big mistake. I’m sorry.” He turns on his heel.
We both laugh.
A voice interrupts our laughing fit. “Ladies, you’re cruel. You’ve traumatized that poor bastard for life. He’s never going to approach a single woman ever again fearing her lesbian lover will come chastise him.”
Justin, the drop-dead gorgeous bartender, had witnessed our mischievous act.
“I was simply playing along. Harley started it,” I say.
“Well, such fine acting deserves a reward. The next drink is on the house, ladies. Heck, let’s make it two drinks on the house. We’re talking epic performance here. I’m sure every man on this rooftop has a hard-on.”
“Thanks, Justin,” we both chime in.
“When you say every man, does it include you?” I ask, curling up my lips.
“Ciara, you know what effect you have on men, present company included.”
“We’d be willing to reenact the whole scene in private after your shift, Justin, but rumor has it you’re only into Asian chicks.”
God, Harley can be such a flirt.
“Harley, you’re the hottest blonde I know and I’ve imagined Ciara’s legs wrapped around my shoulders many nights, and that little performance has surely raised the bar for me, but I’ve recently started seeing this new girl and I want to give it a chance. For the record, I’m not only into Asian girls, I went through a period where I couldn’t get enough of them, but I’ve moved on. My current girlfriend is a sweet Brazilian.”
Justin Jamieson is a model by day and bartender by night. He’s the typical New York City story of the creative type determined to pursue his passion. We’ve been flirting for a very long time, but we’ve never taken it past second base. He nearly nailed me in the stock room at the end of his shift one night, but a drunken patron looking for his lost iPhone killed the mood. Harley and I have closed the bar many times and there were a few occasions where I thought we’d finally end up hooking up and going all the way, but there’s always been a distraction. This time she’s Brazilian.
I’m too consumed by Nikolaj to even consider sleeping with Justin.
“Yeah, Justin, we’re going to grab the empty table over there. Can you bring us some drinks and my favorite appetizers?”
“You’ve got it, Ciara. I’ll be there in a few minutes. Harley, it was great seeing you again. I’ll catch both of you at the end of my shift.”
“You know both Ciara and I would be open to inviting your girlfriend to be part of the fun. Think about it, Justin, a foursome could be a great way to end your work day.”
“Harley, stop that. I have to focus on serving drinks and the imagery you’ve so vividly planted in my head is going to make it hard,” he says, flashing a disarming smile.
“Come on, let’s go grab the table before someone else does,” I say, dragging Harley away from the bar.
“I know you want him, Ciara. I’m being a good friend and sweetening the pot.”
“Honey, I got back a few days ago, okay? I’ve barely been able to catch my breath. Getting Justin in bed is the furthest thing from my mind.”
“Yeah, but a foursome is more than sex with Justin,” she says, narrowing her green eyes.
My God, she’s worse than I am.
“You’re terrible. How can you play with Steven that way? I’m sure he had to run to the bathroom to relieve his hard-on.”
“The poor sucker must be jerking himself off right now reliving our girl-on-girl kiss. I’m sure that’s more action than he’s had in the past year. Heck, who are we kidding, this guy doesn’t look like he gets it on too often.”
“Harley, you could have played nice.”
“I saw him hitting on you when I got closer and I could see you were politely trying to get rid of him. I thought it would be fun to tease him a bit. You know, give him something to dream of when he’s tucked alone in his bed.”
“Did you have to do the fake-lesbian act?”
“Yeah, it works every time and you know it. It’s a big fantasy for most men and it’s not as if you and I haven’t had our fair share of ménages à trois.”
“That’s not the point, Harley,” I start before noticing the red marks on her jaw line. “Oh, let me wipe my lipstick off your face. You may be right, but we’ve never been together and you’ve never kissed me like that. What made you think I would play along?”
“Ciara, you’ve got the dirtiest mind I know of. Of course you were going to play along,” she says, planting another kiss on my lips.
“You’re impossible. Let me tell you, girlfriend, you’re an amazing kisser.”
“You’re not so bad yourself. Your tongue is soft and playful. No wonder men can’t forget you once they’ve had a taste of you.”
“We haven’t seen each other for so long. I was in Toronto and you were busy in Miami taking care of the floral arrangements for the biggest socialite wedding of the year down there.”
“Yeah, I’m happy to see you too. What can I say, it’s hard to be the one of the most sought-after floral designers in the country,” she says, winking at me.
“I don’t know how you do weddings.”
“I hate them, but the family was willing to throw a lot of money my way to do the floral arrangements for their eldest daughter’s wedding. It was too good to pass up.”
“I hope it wasn’t too painful? Brides can be very demanding.”
“I make m
ore than enough from working with celebrities, the most luxurious New York shops and the most prestigious hotels. I don’t want to deal with a bride on her wedding day. It’s way too much drama. That’s why I turned down three other offers at the wedding. This was a great opportunity for me because the father of the bride owns a fleet of high-end restaurants across the country and I want to be the one adding a touch of elegance to their business with my signature upscale bouquets. I figured if I did a spectacular job for his daughter, he’d be more inclined to meet to talk business.”
“I missed you,” I say as I hug her and kiss her cheek.
I’ve known Harley Mackenzie Lancaster for six years now. We met when we were dating two brothers who made a fortune in the downturn of the Miami real estate market. That was one of the most decadent years of my life. We spent weekends in the Hamptons, vacations in the Cayman Islands, carnivals in Venice and Rio, and ski holidays in the Alps in France. We became fast friends and when we dumped the brothers, we remained close. I don’t have too many friends I’m willing to open up to, but Harley gets me because we’re cut from the same cloth.
She stands only five three, but her presence fills a room. Her sassy platinum-blonde buzz haircut accentuates her femininity and makes her that much more irresistible.
“You look incredible in that raspberry-colored dress and those white strappy sandals are killing me. You’re the only woman I know who can sport that platinum-blonde Halle Berry haircut and still look hot.”
“You weren’t kidding when you said you’d be sporting a pair of fuck-me heels. These black and white Louboutin shoes are stunning. I saw them the other day on a woman in a restaurant and I was drooling with envy. Even with your statuesque figure you manage to walk in those four-inch heels like you were born in them.”
The Billionaire's Desire Page 2