by Wanda Edmond
Kristina was met by an average-height woman, decked out in a black sequined dinner gown, and her red envelope purse clashed with her peppermint-red cellophane hair. Her look was perfection. "Yes. Kristina Knight?"
"Yes, Hi—." Kristina stuck out her handy cordially, and Bree gripped her by the shoulders.
Kristina's wind was knocked out of her as Bree body slammed her with an affectionate hug.
"Oh, am I happy to see you!"
"Wish I'd had your number," Kristina said, following Bree back inside her room. "It was with my bags and they're being sent over to my room."
"Let me guess. Delivered ahead?" Bree said as she dialed on her room phone.
"Wrong hotel," Kristina nodded.
"An unforgettable beginning to a night that will be probably boringly predictable," said Bree.
Kristina gestured to a lounge chair and Bree nodded.
"Room service, please," Bree covered the phone with her hand. "Just two seconds," she asked.
Kristina nodded.
*****
"You rode in the Rolls?" Kristina repeated, starry-eyed.
"Yes," Bree said, elated.
"Two months ago I was living off of Ramen and cherry lime bottled soda after my divorce, and now look—." Bree opened up her hands and she pointed around her luxury suite. "I had no idea your agency would pay so much attention to a new writer like me."
Kristina smiled as Bree clasped her hands, grinning. Kristina couldn't help it; Bree's elation was contagious.
"I know, right? Our agency is a rare find. Not many wine and dine clients like Syren. Come to think of it, I think that was the idea behind how the Agency got its name. And I've been asked to give you something—."
Kristina reached in her modest Prada knockoff handbag and she handed Bree an envelope. She Bree's eyes blinked multiple times.
"This is a rider?" Bree looked up at Kristina.
"The Agency has gained some buzz over the past several weeks," said Kristina.
"What the agency wants is to be the top finder of talent along the east coast. Your novel busted the cap off insider trading online, and it spun off an exposé about a trillion dollar illegal business." Kristina noticed Bree leaning back in her hotel seat, takin in what she said.
"Yes, but it was fiction," said Bree.
"Enough to get interest from Hollywood," Kristina said.
"I know!" Bree clapped her hands together. "Who knew my book would shed light on a real life dirty tell-all. It makes me seem like a hot property, an overnight success—." Bree gushed.
"Get used to it, Bree," Kristina said. "You come from society. Everybody you know, knows you are wired in to the trappings of the rich."
Bree glanced at Kristina. "You do your homework.
“I was married to the mayor's horn dog cousin Billy Bob. Everyone close to use knew his real name and it is Brandon. A rake of a man who loved the women as much as he hated that I wouldn't give him children,” said Bree.
“The people I've met during that time have come to be true friends. Some, acquaintances, but they’re guys and gals who really respect the hustle. Even if their biggest worries are how to keep all their lovely money in their perspective family or families."
"So, you've come to babysit me." Bree said, thanking Room Service for a bottle of New York Seltzer Water.
"Mm, this stuff is delish," Bree sipped on the drink Kristina knew was sugary-sweet soda. "When I heard the NYSW people were bringing this back, I asked the hotel if they could carry it. Then you show up with a 'rider'," Bree smiled.
More than that. Kristina thought. "Look again."
Bree reread the list of things she could request.
"My favorite chocolate soda!" Bree hugged Kristina.
"You're the agency's star," said Kristina. "But that reminds me. I don't have anything to wear for tonight."
"Come with me—."
Bree led Kristina to a large walk-in closet. "One of the things that never sucked about being wed to a millionaire was the clothes."
Bree showed Kristina a rack of dress. "Bree, these are designer."
Bree nodded. "Half of them are three sizes too small in the hips. I'm prone to gaining weight in the thighs," Bree shook her head.
"Aren’t we all?" Kristina pursed her lips, agreeing.
"There are more Donna Karans than I can fit in my modest three story Tudor home. Why don't you try one?" Bree held up a dark blue number to Kristina.
"I couldn't wear this. I'm a rep PR, not a clothes whore," Kristina said sincerely.
"We're all the same beneath the swathes," Bree said, "aren't we?"
Kristina tried on the blue lamé short dress and it fit her body like hand-tooled leather. "Oh, this dress is amazing."
"It ought to at $30,000, a pop." Kristina turned and stared at Bree.
"Did you say—? Bree, I can’t wear this. That’s nearly as much as the nightly rate for the Ty Warner suite."
"Then the two of us will the night in style. Besides, you look beautiful," Bree touched Kristina's shoulders as they stood in front of a full length mirror. "Only thing that would be better is champagne and a couple of men who know how to give good head," grinned Bree. "That's one thing my ex Brandon couldn't do if I'd handed him a map, a pen light, and a vibrator."
"Goodness, it's almost time for the pre-signing," Kristina checked her watch, then she grabbed Bree's hand as she led her through Bree's hotel suite.
"I've got the list of who is attending, and the press will have arrived. I coordinated with your daughter Helen and she’s with a sitter, and you can rest in the spotlight, while a couple of reporters grill you about the novel—."
Bree marveled at Kristina as they waited at the elevator.
"The Ty suite is nothing short of nirvana," Kristina said conspiratorially.
"You sure we don't run in the same circles?" Bree said as she and Kristina entered the opulent penthouse.
"You set a ‘party’ like the rich do famous," Bree whispered as photographers snapped her picture.
"It was arranged with you and your closest friends in mind," Kristina said. "Including a few you will enjoy sticking your fame to," said Kristina.
Bree rounded a small entry way and saw the long table spread, and a collection of her dearest friends, and a few not so favorite ones.
"My ex, Brandon is here? Ooh, the irony," Bree said ecstatic.
"Wait till he hears how many book sales you've made," whispered Kristina.
"Let's get 'em," Bree said, ready.
Kristina took a seat at the far end of the dining table near Bree. She wanted to be certain all eyes were on Bree and that Bree enjoyed every minute of her dramatic success.
Bree looked over at Kristina, sharing writer stories with another writer, who had just hit number one on Amazon and iTunes.
Kristina signaled for a photographer to snag a picture of Bree and the other author, and Bree held up her glass, secretly toasting Kristina.
"Thank you," Kristina saw Bree mouth.
Kristina raised her glass, happy for Bree.
Kristina loved her job.
Chapter 8
The evening pre-release party was a smash. Kristina couldn't believe how nice everyone was. She and the PR team had been scoring majorly wonderful talent. Bree Sumner was one of those finds people couldn't get of having around them.
Kristina watched Bree sip her glass topped with bubbling Spumante as she told wild stories of a visit with a Maharaja.
Kristina walked quietly around the dinner party guest and checked to see if nobody was looking. She darted behind a large ice sculpture and she held her hand to her chest.
She felt her heart pounding; she always had panic attacks when she was in a group of people. The same thing happened when she was stuck in a speeding car about to give birth.
Kristina leaned against the wall, as she tried to steady herself. Her palms sweat as she tried to catch her breath.
Bree greeted Amy Breyden and she hugged Ian Knight, holding
her glass of champagne around his back.
"Amy, why didn't you tell me you were working at this hotel?"
Kristina peeked around the ice sculpture. She and Ian had said their good-byes in Miami. He couldn't be at the party—but he was.
Of all the places to run in to him, why did it have to be here!
"Not everyone can trip the nights fantastically at leisure. Some of us had to wake up and dream another fairy tale—,” Amy smiled.
Bree hugged Amy.
Amy glanced at Ian.
Ian smiled, aware that he owed Amy more than casual oral pleasure in a runaway elevator for arranging an invite.
"Hi, my name's Bree."
"Hello, Bree. I'm Ian."
Kristina inched around the perimeter of the guests, her short blue dress hiking up to her bottom as she tried to tip-toe to safety. Maybe she could hide in the rear suite, or in the restroom and wait out Ian and his date, until the pre book signing party finished.
"Welcome. There's champagne. The agency my PR rep is from spared no expense," Bree pointed at Kristina. "Kristina, come and meet my friend Amy, and her friend, Ian, is it?"
"Right here," Kristina straightened.
Ian turned to see Kristina had her hand on the door.
Photographers took Bree's photo as she struck a pose in front of the cameras, and an interviewer.
"Perfect. I think we just got our shot for your author press release,” the interviewer said.
“Is it true you have been riding around New York City in a Rolls Royce?"
"I know. You're thinking, rags to riches, and rags again, to a million dollar book deal, right?" Bree pinged the reporter with a clink of her half-empty champagne glass onto his handheld recorder.
"Well, yes." The reporter admitted.
"The truth? I've been rich, and I've been down and out, and still rich as every because I’ve always surrounded myself with really good friends. My ex-husband Brandon and I may have gone our separate ways—including this evening, but I'll always known the difference between love and affection."
Kristina rejoined the party, standing behind Bree.
"You can love, but if you have someone who is affectionate, you have it all." Bree raised her glass. "And you can quote me on that."
The dinner guests toasted Bree and Kristina tried not notice Ian, who had joined her. Ian, touched his forefinger along Kristina's bare arm, as Kristina shivered, feeling torrents of pleasure surge through her body, until she was wet and aching.
Bree's guests enveloped her as she signed the inside jacket of her books. "This is amazing," Bree beamed.
Kristina had been right, Bree thought. Bree felt she was truly the star of evening.
Chapter 9
Kristina nodded her head at Bree, smiling triumphantly, as she walked to the giant penthouse window.
Ian stood beside Kristina gazing at Kristina's reflection in glass.
"You look beautiful," Ian said.
"How did you find me?" Kristina asked.
"Through an old friend." Ian touched his forefinger to Kristina's middle finger. He rubbed it up and over Kristina, making her tingle from brazenly caresses.
"Stop!"
Kristina excused herself form the party and she hurried to the rest room.
Amy watched Ian knock softly on the penthouse restroom door.
"Kristina—."
Kristina unlocked the bathroom door and Ian slid inside, tucking the door closed.
Ian neared. "I wanted to see you."
Ian touched Kristina's hair and she dipped under his arms, out of reach.
"Seriously? We're done—."
"We're not done—" Ian grabbed Kristina's shoulders. "There is nothing in this world that will keep us apart. Give me time, and I'll show you why."
"What do you want from me?" Kristina demanded.
"This." Ian dragged Kristina to the floor.
Ian stretched out his body out alongside Kristina. He took her hand, shoving it down the front of his tailored dress pants.
"What are you doing? There are guests here. I have to work!"
Kristina knocked her hand into Ian's manhood. Kristina stared at her stepbrother, wide eyed. She could feel Ian throbbing in her hand.
Ian was completely hard and Kristina's pulse skipped. She could feel his naked warmth; he wasn't wearing underwear.
"Ian, please. We can't. We're—."
"Siblings?" Ian said gruffly.
"Yes. I mean, Ian we should be doing this." Kristina pulled her hand away from Ian, as his penis lengthen.
Kristina gazed down at Ian, bemused by how incredibly thick, and strong his cock was. "How do you get so, huge?" Kristina whispered, her eyes wide.
"Let me show you, Krissy," Ian pulled on Kristina' tiny blue dress. "Undress me."
Ian placed Kristina's hands on his crotch and arched his hips.
Kristina stared as his manhood, her eyes seeing, but not believing.
Her stepbrother Ian Knight, wasn't just hung. His long, hard, blond and black-haired pole was massive.
Had he gotten bleached down there during the time they were on the beach together in Miami?
Kristina bent to have a closer look at her stepbrother’s length.
He was a very large man. Not at all like she remembered. When they dropped down into the sand on the private beach at Sur Elegante, Kristina hadn’t seen how truly incredibly Ian’s penis was. He was shaped perfectly. She could smell the hint of musk, Calvin Klein, she thought, and something else. Something, more. Ian’s scent filled her nostrils with a scent that was unidentifiable, but undeniably him.
Kristina wanted to have Ian right in the elegant penthouse john. In the middle of a book signing pre-release party, as if nothing else mattered.
Kristina looked up, kneeling in her borrowed dress, hoping she knew what her brother wanted. Ian reached down with his strong hand as he caressed Kristina’s cheek.
“Anything we do stays between us.” Ian gazed down at Kristina, his eyes flamed with heat.
“Whatever you feel comfortable with, it’s fine,” Ian said softly.
Kristina felt warm inside feeling she had control over Ian’s body as well as his emotions.
Kristina reached up to fondle more of Ian in her much smaller hands, when she saw a strand of hair. Kristina continued to stare at Ian’s groin, her head cocked to one side.
The hair was plastered against Ian’s thigh.
“Ian?”
“Anything you want me to do baby, I want you to ask.”
Kristina heard the one thing she tried not to think about, ever.
Baby.
*****
Kristina plucked the strand of human hair. “This is a woman’s hair.” Kristina jumped to her feet.
“Ooh, I can’t believe this.”
Ian looked in his stepsister’s hand. His closed his eyes, trying to think of how he could take back control of the situation. He knew this was the most awkward thing that could happen to two people.
“Ian, is it hers?” Kristina knew Ian knew she was talking about his date. Kristina knew she was overreacting probably. She wasn’t even certain why she cared. Ian was her brother, after all.
Was she mad because she believed he had been with somebody else? Or was she ticked off because she had given into her basic need to feel loved? Maybe she was jealous.
What Ian did was his own affair. Still, Kristina had found another person’s hair on him, and Kristina bet it came for a woman.
Oh, why did she care about what Ian did or didn’t do?
Why did Ian have to come to this pre-party anyway!
Chapter 10
Ian had stepped in a pile of mess, and he had stepped in it good. He had found the girl he wanted since they grew up together. He’d even made a deal with his ex-paramour Amy Breyden to have it happen. Ian hadn’t come to New York only to rekindle his chance of romance with his stepsister and foul it all up!
Ian straightened and he fastened up his pants.
&n
bsp; “Kris, I can explain—.”
“Don’t touch me.”