by kj lewis
The ensemble is exquisite. Jules pushed the envelope just right. Any more and it would be overworked. Since the outfit is enough on its own, I keep it simple: a smoky eye, a simple lip, and my hair pulled into a sleek ponytail to emphasize what I’m wearing.
Pulling on one of Graham’s shirts until time to get dressed, I sit at my laptop to review some of the pictures I took with the new camera. One of Ruth and Ben catches my eye. They weren’t aware I was taking pictures, so I captured them in an intimate moment. Ruth is laughing about something, and Ben is looking at her with profound love. I place an order for it to be printed at a local store.
“You. In those glasses.”
I don’t look up, but my smile tells him I approve of his affection.
“Come here.” The command in his voice draws my eyes up. He’s in a tux with the top two buttons of his shirt open and his tie hanging loose.
“You. In that suit.” I walk up to him and place my hand to his cheek. “You’re beautiful.” He leans into my touch. “I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as you. I have something for you.”
“You do? Is it a kiss?”
He leans down, wrapping his lips around my top lip. His tongue skates over mine, and he ends with a nibble on my bottom lip. I’m wet in no time. He unbuttons his shirt I’m wearing and plays with my nipples. One hand slides down my torso, and he moves a couple of fingers in and out of me, breaking his movements on my first moan.
“I’m going to put this inside you.” He holds up a silver metal object in the shape of a bullet, it has a small string attached. “Bend over.”
“Emelia,” he says when I hesitate.
“Remember, no hesitation. I’m in charge.”
“We haven’t agreed to any terms yet.”
“First term. I’m in charge. Bend over.”
I know I will regret the precedence that I’m setting, but I’m too curious not to obey. I slowly bend over.
“Normally, I would add special underwear to go with these, but since I hear you aren’t wearing any with the outfit Jules’ made you…” He doesn’t seem comfortable with the idea, but he doesn’t protest.
When my ass is in the air, he slides in the metal tube into my sex.
“Touch yourself.”
I do as I’m told and feel the small string that is attached.
“This is safe,” he tells me. “You won’t lose it inside of you, understand?”
I nod.
He pulls me back into a standing position, buttoning my shirt back up.
“Will this just have me sexed up all night?
“Something like that.” He kisses me lightly and runs his index finger down my nose, his eyes on mine. “I had this made for you.”
He hands me a thin, black leather box the size of an envelope. I look from him to the box and back to him. Opening it, I find another black leather box that opens down the middle. I pull back each side and there is a simple but elegant necklace attached to the binder. It’s a ruby in the shape of a heart, encased in nothing but a simple platinum chain coming out of each side of it, giving the ruby the appearance that it is floating free over the chain. It has to be five, maybe six carats.
“Graham.”
“Emelia.”
My eyes meet his. “I can’t…”
“You can and you will. Second term. You do what pleases me. I’d like for you to wear it while we are together. I want you to have it and to think of me while you wear it.”
I stop his hands from placing it on my neck.
“Graham, I don’t need a necklace to think of you. You are infused in my thoughts.”
He doesn’t say anything. I close the case and hand it to him.
“Not until we have all terms negotiated. You can’t dictate them as you go. That is not how this works. I’m not in this for what you can buy me or do for me. Just be with me. That’s all the gift I need.” I grab each side of his tie and pull him to me for a kiss.
“Emelia,” he says with more force.
“Graham,” I counter with the same amount of force.
“You will…”
I cut him off. “Don’t ruin the moment with your control freakiness.”
We stand there looking at each other. I’m not budging. I gave into his silver bullet that is squarely inside of me. I’m not giving into to the second term until we have some other things worked out.
“You’re not dressed?” Jules enters the room. Stopping for a moment when she feels the vibe we are sending off. I have never been so grateful for her interruption because, let’s be honest, I would have ended up wearing the necklace.
“I will now. Jules,” I pause to admire her. “You’re stunning.” I twirl her around and take in her creation.
Graham reluctantly takes his eyes off me and our disagreement is tabled.
“Jules, your talent and beauty are a true match.” He kisses her hand.
“Thank you, Graham. Now out, while Mags finishes getting dressed.” She sends him on his way.
“I’ll see you there.” He sets the necklace on the desk. “You know what I expect.” He bends down to kiss me.
“Did your trip today fix the problem?” Adam says entering the room.
“What issue?”
“Your honey pot issue,” he smiles like a schoolboy.
“You are the only one that will be looking close enough to know,” I chastise him. Graham punches him in the arm.
“Ow! Dude!” Adam says, rubbing his arm.
“Are you going or staying?” I ask, starting to unbutton my shirt.
“Staying. OW!” Adam says louder, giving Graham a nasty look. “Dude, I’ve seen Mags without clothes on before. It’s not that big of a deal, but I’ll go,” he concedes when Graham starts to punch him again.
When the guys leave the room, Jules helps me into my outfit.
I turn to see myself in the mirror.
“Is it what you were hoping for?” I ask Jules.
“Better. Thank you so much for wearing this for me. I know it’s asking a lot. It’s revealing, and you can’t Spanx or lift anything. It’s all you, and you look fabulous!” Her smile is contagious.
“Spanx are overrated. They limit how much I can eat.”
I am putting on a to-die-for pair of Louboutin’s, when Ruth enters.
“You both look gorgeous,” she says. “My sons are very lucky.” She hands us each a box. “Ben’s mother gave these to me and I would like for you to wear them tonight. Emme, I decided these suited your design better.”
I open the box to see a pair of jaw-dropping earrings. They are three tiers of opened diamond squares that hang from a single solitaire. Each solitaire is at least three carats. All-in-all there must be around ten carats of diamonds to the pair. They are modern and simple in style, with a bit of edge to them. Just like Jules’ design.
“Ruth…” I look from the earrings to her. I’m speechless.
“You will be fine. They’re insured. Jewelry is meant to be loved and worn.”
“Beautiful,” she says to Jules who has hers on already. They are chandelier earrings with a mix of white and black diamonds.
“Thank you,” Jules starts to cry. “They are both perfect. Exactly what I would have chosen.” She hugs her.
“Don’t ruin your makeup, dear,” Ruth says, patting her on the back.
“Ruth, I am so touched. Thank you. You have come to mean so much to me.”
When I go to hug her, she kisses my cheek and whispers, “Your mom would have loved to see you tonight.”
Watching us, Jules laughs and dabs her eyes. “This one,” she points to me, “never cries.”
I roll my eyes at her sappiness and inspect her eye makeup.
“You’re good,” I announce.
We make our way down the stairs where Adam is waiting for us.
“Baby, your designs are stunning. He turns me around, running his hand over the curve of my ass—not in a sexual way, but in admiration of Jules design.
“Th
is is perfect. You need to be ready. Tomorrow is going to be about you.” His pride is evident. He notices her earrings and looks to his mom, showing his appreciation that Ruth shared them.
“Where’s Graham?” Ruth asks.
“He had to leave to pick up his date,” I say moving things into my clutch. It takes me a minute to register the disapproving look on her face.
“I didn’t feel it was right to change plans on someone the week of, especially something as big as this. Plus, I am going with my boss. It will be a networking night for us.” My look assures her that I’m fine with the arrangement, and she reluctantly lets up.
Ben answers a knock at the door and ushers Jackson into the living room. I make the introductions. Jackson stops me, his eyes landing on every part of my body, evaluating Jules design.
“Vogue will want to know about this design,” he says proudly to Jules. “Amazing work. Your ability to keep it sheer and work the lace and beading into the fit of a pencil pant. And it is fitted to perfection. Magnificent. Really, Jules.” He moves to the dress she is wearing and gives it the same attention and praise.
“Would you like to ride with me and Emme?” he offers.
“Thanks,” Adam says, “But Smith has arranged a car for us.”
“Then we shall see you at the restaurant.” We say our goodbyes and make our way to the car. He pulls me to a stop.
“Hello, beautiful.” He kisses my cheek.
“Hello, beautiful.”
He looks delicious in his navy blue Tom Ford tux. I need to remind Patrick how lucky he is. Jackson opens the door for me, helping me lower myself into the car before moving to his side. He has his usual driver in from the city to drive us to the event.
“I want you to enjoy tonight.” He kisses my hand. “We can network if you want, or we can relax and just be together. Whatever you feel like. So, how are things with Graham?”
I fill Jackson in as much as I can without giving too much away about our arrangement. I want to be honest with my friend, but I also want to keep Graham’s confidence. I’m finding out it’s a tough balancing act, and I’m almost relieved when we pull into the circular drive of the restaurant.
“Have you ever eaten at a Chef Michel restaurant?”
“No. I am so excited to get to. Did you know he has a Michelin star?”
“Two, in fact,” he corrects me. “You’re in for a treat. I met him in Paris once. He’s as an amazing chef as well as a flirt.”
We exit the car to several flashes. The bulk of the press will be at the charity event, but there are several pulling double duty here. Jackson leaves me for a moment to speak with the hostess. When he comes back, he has an odd look on his face.
“It appears Graham and Adam have requested we join their table. Is that okay with you, or would you prefer we keep our table for two?”
“Whatever you like is fine with me.”
“Let’s go for the group. I can watch the show,” he smirks.
“There will be no show.”
He shrugs me off like he’s not convinced and lets the hostess know we will sit with the group. She shows us to the table. We shake hands with several people along the way, clients or other business people Jackson knows. I’ve already heard several comments about what I am wearing.
The guys stand when Jackson and I walk up. Graham, Adam, and Matt are all seated next to their dates. There is also a couple that I have never met before.
Graham looks delicious and it’s obvious he is thinking the same of me. I can feel his eyes undressing me.
“Graham Taylor, Jackson Hollingsworth,” I gesture between the two.
“Mr. Hollingsworth. I’m a fan,” Graham says with a firm shake. CEO Graham is in the house tonight.
“Jackson, please. It’s nice meeting you.”
“I’m sorry, we haven’t met. I’m Emme James.” I reach across and offer my hand with a smile to Graham’s date. She looks at me with boredom.
“Andrea Lucas,” she answers after a beat.
Okay then. If that’s how you want to play this. I look at the other guy standing that I don’t know.
“Emme James,” I introduce myself.
He grabs my hand and lightly touches my fingers while kissing the back of it. “Sloan Abbott. It’s lovely to meet you. I adore your accent.”
I wait a minute for him to introduce me to his date. When he doesn’t, I take matters into my own hands. She also has no use for me. Seems to be a pattern tonight.
I move on to reacquaint Jackson with the others. We are just about to take our seats when a client and his wife stop us. Making our apologies, we turn our back to the table for a minute and greet them. Jackson’s hand falls to a rest on my hip. It’s a common stance for us, but I can feel eyes from behind me. When I turn around, Graham, Sloan, and their dates are all staring at us. I wonder if it’s too late to request a table for two.
We finally take our seats. The hostess comments on what I am wearing, and I pass the accolades and attention over to Jules. It hits me out of nowhere while they are talking that we didn’t flashbulb test it. Shit! The last thing I want is pictures of me in the paper tomorrow looking more exposed than I am.
“What’s wrong?” Jackson leans in, asking me quietly. I turn my head up to him to whisper in his ear. In his usual manner, he leans down so I can reach it. He shakes his head and makes a face letting me know that he doesn’t think I have anything to worry about. When I look up, Graham is staring daggers at me. His eyes hold mine for a moment and he goes back to his menu. I notice he’s flexing his hand. I take a long sip of water.
The waiter comes to the table to introduce the menu and the options available tonight. Graham orders two bottles of wine to start us off.
“Do you offer a bread basket by chance?” I ask the waiter before he leaves. I’m starving. He smiles a large smile that I don’t quite understand.
“We do.”
“Thank you. May we also have some for the table?”
“Of course, Miss James.” He leaves towards the kitchen. I give an odd look to Jules and she raises her shoulder like she has no idea either why he finds this so amusing.
“I’m sorry,” Andrea says. “I sent the bread basket back. I didn’t realize…”
“Didn’t realize?” I ask with a forced sweet smile.
“I just didn’t realize we would have such a confident eater here tonight.”
Becca pats Matt on the back as he coughs into his water.
“No worries,” I smile, unruffled. “They don’t mind bringing more.”
The waiter brings the wine and places bread on the table.
“I took the liberty of bringing you a special butter we offer. One is a sweet butter and one is a spice. I suggest the sweet for you,” he winks as he places the butters in front of me.
I smile my thanks at him. “I’ll start with the sweet then.”
He begins taking orders with Becca and works his way around. I already know Jackson is going to get a steak. He loves them. He doesn’t sway from them.
“Can I have a bite of your steak?”
“As expected.” He drapes his arm over my chair.
Becca and Jules are boring, ordering a lighter portioned meal. The other two hanger girls order salads. The guys all order steaks.
“Y’all do know who the chef is?” I ask them like they’ve lost their minds. They issue confused nods.
I turn to the waiter and call him by name. “Bring me whatever the chef wants to make.”
“I’m sorry?” he responds.
“Please tell the chef to prepare a meal of his choosing. Whatever he is in the mood to prepare.”
“Yes ma’am. Any substitutions?”
“None. Thank you.”
He smiles and winks at me.
Jackson, ignoring my dig, orders steak.
Meaningless conversation begins to flow, and I catch Jules eye.
“We didn’t flash test,” I mouth to her. She cringes a little. I can see her mind turn
ing.
“It should be okay,” she affirms.
“So, y’all aren’t going to Casino Night?” I ask Becca and Matt while buttering a piece of bread.
“No, I fly out in a few hours,” Becca reminds me.
“Matt, you can come and hang with me if you like.”
“I tried to tell him I could take a cab to the airport, but he wants to go. You should go after you drop me off,” she looks at him.
“I’ll see what I feel like. I’m heading back in the morning. I have a shift starting at six pm. The holiday is always a busy time.”
“What is your shift?” I ask taking a bite of the bread, stopping to have a moment over the deliciousness of something as simple as bread.
“You have to taste this,” I raise it to Jackson’s mouth for him to take a bite. Watching to see if he has the same response I do. I’m delighted when he does. I pass it to Matt for him to take some. The bread on the other side of the table remains untouched, even by the guys.
“By the way, I’m on until Tuesday. I have to reciprocate for the guys that covered for me this week. I don’t know what time you’re getting back, but wanted to let you know so you could crash in my bed.”
This is normal conversation for me and my dwarfs, but I forget there are others at the table who don’t know us.
“You’re okay with her sleeping in his bed?” Sloan’s date derides.
“Not that it concerns you—and it certainly doesn’t call for your dramatic tone--but yes. Matt and Emme could share a bed and I would be okay with it. I trust them both.”
I don’t hide my smile at her response.
“If you all are not going to eat your bread may I have it? I would like to try the other butter,” I ask the other side of the table.
Placing an empty wine glass in front of me, the waiter tells me what he is pouring. Jackson chuckles to my right. He knows I have no idea about wine, nor do I have any idea what the waiter just told me. I smile and nod, winking at Jackson.
“To have with your amuse bouche,” the waiter smiles. He leaves for a moment, returning with a small plate.
“Light Scallop Veloute with galangal and vegetables.”
It’s a piece of art on its own. It’s too lovely not to share, but it’s a bite-sized portion—not enough to go around.