by Avery Aster
“Being humane won’t work for this trashy network.”
“Then be yourself on TV, darling.”
“My idea was to sing a song at your Candy Land Ball,” Neve said.
“Sing?”
“Yup. I’ve been practicing this song I wrote called ‘I’m a Reality’. It’s good.”
Taddy hated when clients thought they should have iTunes hits. It drove her nuts. Now the girl had gone from beauty pageants to handbags to music. What next? Her own line of wine from Napa Valley? So she tested her. “Sing it.”
“‘Huh?”
“Right now, on the phone. To me.”
“Well…I can text you a link to hear it digitally.”
“Why?”
“My voice has to be mixed and stuff. You know, to the music.”
“Naturally, of course.” Figures.
Another beep came through her intercom and the receptionist alerted, “Miss Brill, Kiki is holding on line two for you.”
“Neve, I have to go. Send me the link. I’ll listen to it and call you later about Candy Land. Bye, darling.”
Taddy muttered a quick prayer that Neve would get some common sense. Then she picked up the other line. “Kiki, how’s Utah?” She closed her eyes.
“Miss Brill, my folks and I have been talking about whether or not I should come back to New York City.” Her assistant’s voice sounded shakier than usual.
“And?” After they’d talked in the car, she thought the air had been cleared. Now Taddy realized her parents were influencing her. Damn Blake and his on-the-money assumptions about her assistants.
“We think it’s in my best interest if…I do return to New York.”
“YEAH!” Taddy cleared her throat. “I mean I do too.”
“But there’s one condition.” Kiki spoke as if her father had put her up to this. Perhaps he was listening in on the other line.
Sweet Jesus Jersey White Corn. “What’s your stipulation?”
“Dad, stop—” Kiki covered the phone and hushed a voice in the background. “My folks want me to leave Jersey City and move into Manhattan. They want me within walking distance of the office.”
“Agreed.” She opened her eyes and sat back in her chair. “You’ll receive a raise. We’ll retroact your paycheck so it goes into effect for the next pay cycle. I’ve got a great broker who can get you an apartment in midtown. I’ll even make your first month’s rent.”
“Honest—Miss Brill?” she asked in a choked voice.
“Tell your father I appreciate him coaching you.”
“Thank you.” Kiki sniveled over the phone.
“Please don’t cry.”
Hearing that, Kiki seemed to cry harder.
“I’ll see you back at work, next Monday.”
After several sniffs, her assistant’s tears subsided.
“I’m glad to you’re coming back. Please give your family my best.”
“Bye, Miss Brill.”
* * * * *
Taddy PR’d her way through lunch at her desk and listened to Neve’s song. To her surprise, “I’m a Reality” was good. It reminded her of “Tardy for the Party” and you could dance to it. That’s all that mattered. Taddy agreed to let her perform at her Candy Land Ball. She glanced at her cell phone once. After two p.m. she elected not to check it again until her dinner arrived. She ate a tuna salad at her desk and didn’t hear a peep from Warner. At six p.m., she gave in to temptation and called his cell phone. It went straight to voice mail. Either he wasn’t answering or he’d turned off his phone. Screw him and the having-a-man-in-her-life fantasy.
She wasn’t sure if she grew angrier at herself for having expectations that what they’d shared could lead to something, or for buckling under and calling him. She didn’t leave a message when his sweet voice came on the line and promised herself she wouldn’t ring him again. Taddy couldn’t help but reflect back on her emotions from a week ago when she’d thrown his number away over the misconception that he was engaged or, at that stage, married.
After swallowing another shot of Farnworth Firewater, Taddy dialed her mother’s number. She kept the trashcan by her desk in case she heaved.
“Brillford residence,” a man’s voice answered.
“Hello…is Countess Irma there, please?”
“Whom may I say is calling?”
“Mr. Constance, is this you?”
“Yes, who is this?”
“Taddy.” Her voice sounded childlike. “I mean…Tabitha Adelaide, Irma’s daughter. Is my…mother there?”
Chapter Nineteen
Dom Perignon Rosé
Countess Irma was shopping downtown when Taddy called. Mr. Constance had been left with instructions to make sure Taddy stopped by tomorrow between ten and noon. She agreed to meet Irma the next morning at Irma’s apartment, the home she’d grown up in.
Taddy texted Vive and Lex, thanking them for the support, but tonight she needed to be alone. She feared if she hung out with them, they’d put ideas in her head. Angry thoughts based on resentment. Over the years, the Manhattan community had grown to despise Irma for her choices. A desire to see her mother with an open mind would be hard. Taddy would do her best. Her friends agreed to be on standby after her visit.
She canceled Jose’s car service for her usual late-night ride home. Slipping on a pair of sneakers she kept in her workout bag, she walked from her office at Forty-second Street and Eighth Avenue to Seventy-first and Park Avenue. The distance was just over two and a half miles. It was a stroll she didn’t take often, but when the moon was out like it was tonight, it was a wonderful way to clear her head. She was elated that Kiki was coming back to New York and also confident Lex would learn to enjoy her fashion empire’s success. Blake could work on Neve’s account. Money aside, tiara-wearing beauty queens were something she didn’t have the patience for—not at this stage in her career.
After turning the corner, she stepped up to her building. The graveyard-shift doorman greeted her as she went into the elevator and pushed the button for the penthouse floor.
When she entered her residence, she spotted a large pink suitcase. Huh? It read Dom Perignon Rosé Champagne on the lid. Taddy opened the case, recognizing its exclusivity. Designed by Karl Lagerfeld, it was used in the short 1996 film titled by its namesake. Aw, Warner must’ve sent this.
Unfastening the latches, Taddy saw six amber bottles of bubbly. An envelope inside was addressed to “My Red”. She opened the seal on the letter and a ticket stub fell into her palm. She flipped the tag over to read “Barth/Red/Dec30/Vajazz”. Taddy recognized the paper. Its icon and logo came from Secrète de St. Barth. On the back, the tagline read “A Warner Truman Property”.
Díma came from the kitchen to greet her. “Your guest brought the champagne. I’d put it in the fridge, but we don’t have room for all of these bottles.”
“Guest?”
“He’s waited for you for a few hours.” Díma pointed into the living room.
“Who is it?”
“Mr. Truman. He lost his phone charger.” Díma held his hands up in possible frustration. “We did not have one to lend him. I told him I’d go out and buy him one but he said he’d wait ‘til you came home.” A smile on her butler stretched practically ear to ear. “Maybe he just wanted to surprise you, Miss Brill.”
Taddy walked in to the sitting room to see Warner sound asleep on the chaise lounge. His long legs, the ones that had carried her and supported her while he made love to her, were stretched out as if he owned the room. The arms that he’d used to hold her at night and that had taught her how to be respectful to him hung down at his sides. Those strong hands, which had cupped her face, caressed her body and excited her sex, rested against the floor.
She looked back to see her butler staring in on her with a grin. “Thank you, Díma. Throw out whatever is in the fridge and stock it with the champagne.”
“Yes ma’am.”
“And Díma…why don’t you take tomorrow off?”
He whispered a thank you and added, “I’ve put the dogs in the kitchen for the night.” He headed to his quarters. Taddy took the envelope and walked over to Warner.
You’re here.
You came for me.
You kept your word.
Standing there for a few seconds, she stared at Warner, not waking him. Even asleep he exuded power. She admired his beauty, his being, and how he’d kept his promise in coming for her. Careful not to let her shoes make a noise against the marble floor, she tiptoed closer. Leaning over him, she tucked her hair behind her ears and planted her lips on his. “Big Daddy,” she whispered.
Warner’s mouth curved into a smile and his hazel eyes opened. “My Red.” He pulled her onto his lap.
“What happened to staying in Cannes this week?” She ran her hands along the vertical white buttons on his shirt.
“I missed you,” he replied without hesitation, massaging her hand with his.
“Really?” She bit her inside cheek, stifling a grin as she wrapped her fingers around his.
“Smile. Your cheek-biting thing is getting old.” He laughed. Rubbing his hand along her jawline, he kissed her. “I packed my things up and boarded the jet. We taxied halfway down the runway and experienced a mechanical issue. So I flew commercial to London only hours after I dropped you off. I thought about calling you from the Heathrow airport but wanted to surprise you. I couldn’t get a flight to New York. I had to lay over in London first. No direct flights. Everything was booked up.”
“I’ll bet.” She kissed his hands, listening, happy that he sat here. Taddy felt as if her heart might explode. The beats of her heart boomed faster than a Waris Sugar tempo.
“I discovered then that I didn’t have my charger with me. I’d left it at Hôtel du France. So my phone died. Once in London, I took a flight to Toronto and here I am, home in New York—with you.”
“You flew twenty-four hours…to see me?”
“I did.” Warner’s facial stubble told her he spoke the truth.
“A day in the air is the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done.” Stunned, she didn’t know what to say.
“Nah. The sweetest thing is dreaming about you after trying to get Brigitte at Secrète de St. Barth spa to track down Mademoiselle Red, who on December thirtieth received a vajazzling appointment.” He gave her a sidelong glance, tapping his hand on the card she held in her hand.
“That explains this ticket.” She stood, surprised and more certain than ever that Warner Truman was hers to have.
He nodded.
“Come with me, please…”
“A shower would be really good about now.” He stood taller than she’d remembered. More exquisite than she’d imagined.
She took his hand in hers and led him into her bedroom.
He showered.
Taddy leaned against the bed. Warner came from the bathroom, his wet hair tousled into a thick spike. The sincerity in his eyes made her feel warm inside. His intentions shone clear. It was obvious to her now—he was hers.
His hands rested on his hips. “Afraid I wouldn’t come to New York to see you?”
“Terrified,” she admitted. “Though you do live here too, ya know.”
Stepping forward, he tilted her chin, studying her face. “I love you, Taddy.” He placed his lips over hers, allowing nothing between them. Sinking his tongue into her mouth, he claimed her as she’d always dreamt.
Face tingling, palms itching, heart jumping, she confessed, “I love you too.” A happy cry broke from her lips.
He undressed her. “I want this to work.”
She closed her eyes and lifted her hands in the air, turning around as he removed her blouse and skirt. She realized no one had ever said they’d loved her—at least not out loud. Not her parents, friends or her employees. She’d verbalized love to them all but never heard it in return. Love sounded better than music. It felt better than words. Warner was love.
He kissed her again, placing her in the center of the bed. “This isn’t going to be easy with our schedules, but we’ll manage.”
“Thank you, Mr. Pragmatic.” She mocked his reservations.
“I’ve blocked out the whole week to be here in New York with you.” His adorable eyebrows rose in expectation of a thank-you.
“You have?” She couldn’t imagine. “You’ll be able to come to my Candy Land Ball. I’ll have to get you a costume in the morning.”
He lifted her back farther onto the pillows. “I can’t wait to meet your friends. But I’m not wearing a costume.”
“It’s a requirement. No costume, no admission,” she teased.
“Hmm.” Cupping her breasts in his hands, he circled each nipple with his tongue. “My mouth missed your girls.” He hummed to himself. His tongue lashed clockwise then counterclockwise over her bumpy flesh then flicked back and forth over the tips of her nipples.
His fingers found what he wanted between her legs. “You’re wet already.”
“My floodgates burst the second you told me you loved me.”
“Woo-hoo,” he shouted. “I L-O-V-E you and I love it when you’re soaked.” His hands embraced her as he patted and tapped her thin crevice into frenzy. Warner’s tongue traced around the areola and then bit down.
“Warner!”
He sucked on her nipples and patted the hard nub of her clitoris. Warner dropped his head. Lifting her legs, he buried his face between them. “Yeah, baby?” Her thighs spread wide. All of a sudden, he pressed down on her slit and—exhaled, filling her with air.
“Oooh.” Her eyes closed as she dug her nails into her palms. His lips came down over her folds. “Warner.” She heard him inhale through his mouth. “Fuuuck.” There was a deep suction over her vulva, one she’d never felt. An urge to kick her legs from the orgasm trembled through her as she came.
He held her legs down and repeated his vagina-clitoris-centric kiss over and over again.
Grabbing onto the pillow’s edges, she pulled herself up in ecstasy. “I can’t take any more. You’re driving me crazy.”
“Get used to it.” He yanked her by the ankles closer to him and buried his face over her clit, rotating his fingers inside her. “Tonight, I want you to come again and again for me.”
Her fingers knotted at his scalp, body trembling, she moaned, “Warner, not again—not this soon—I’ve never…”
Warner fingered her with his entire hand, almost fisting her.
Body shuddering, she couldn’t hold out any longer. “Big Daddy.” Fuck, fuck, fuck. She held on to his shoulders while her core shook. Shuddering in ecstasy, she creamed.
He buried his face between her legs, lapping her up and muttered, “You on the Pill?”
“I’ve taken birth control for years, not sure why though. It’s not like—”
“Shush.” He kissed her feet and toes. “I tested a few months ago. I’m clean. And you?”
“My physical was last month. I’m negative too.”
“Tonight I won’t come on your tongue. I’ll come inside you.” He held her legs and arched above her.
“What?”
“Gonna fill you good, baby girl.” His dick rested at her folds, asking permission to come in and unite.
“I’ve never—” She pressed her palms against his torso. Taddy wanted to talk about this.
“Then we’ll use condoms. I’ll do whatever makes you comfortable.” He reached down to his slacks on the floor and pulled out a foil packet.
“No condom means we’re exclusive.” She sat up, looking at him, not sure if he understood what it meant for her. This was New York City for crying out loud.
“I want monogamy, Taddy,” he confirmed huskily. “We’re right together. I’ve never felt more certain about anything in my entire life.” Warner rolled the condom over his erection and pressed down on the tip.
She fell back on the pillows. I love him. I love him. I love him. “I feel the same way about you. You’re the person I’ve always dreamt of.”
Panting, she reached under her and pulled his cock—out.
Confusion etched lines across his face.
She ripped the condom off and lay back down. “I want you.” On her back, she tucked her hips, allowing his raw dick to rest against her slit.
“Taddy…” Warner didn’t pull away. He didn’t push himself in farther either.
She felt his dick where she’d left it. It was her call. He seemed to be fighting the urge to ram her. Taddy could tell. “Quite a gentleman you are, Warner Truman.” Her body moved closer as she shimmied.
Warner stayed arched on his knees, holding her legs up. “I always knew you’d be the aggressive one.” He swung her ankles out to the right, leaned over her and kissed her. “You sure you want to go bare?”
Legs pressed to the left, she gazed at her lover. His arms were flexed, holding her tight. He was ready. Warner cared. “More than anything, Big Daddy,” she replied as he swung her legs back over his shoulders.
His eyes closed as he descended inside all the way. So full. She wasn’t able to control the tremors building inside. Every follicle on her skin felt alive, and her body spasmed.
Her Big Daddy smiled and opened his eyes again.
She belonged to him.
“Red.” He leaned over and pumped into her. “No crying tonight, promise?”
“Swear.” She smiled, getting into it, hoisting herself by his shoulders and kissing him. Taddy thought for a brief second about Irma and elected to put off telling him about her family until morning.
“So beautiful.” Warner lay next to her. “This is better. I can kiss you and talk to you.” He lifted her left leg over his right shoulder and slid his sex in. “I forgot you don’t like to talk during sex.”
“I do now. You can say whatever you want to me,” Taddy admitted. “Last time I shoved my tits in your mouth. This time I’ll suck on my own.” She tugged slightly at her right nipple.