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Ditching The Dream (Dream Series)

Page 23

by Isabelle Peterson


  And I bought her this really nice bracelet. It’s silver with a nice silver heart dangling from it. I thought about getting it engraved, but I didn’t know what to put on it. I’ll let her sort out what she wants on it, if anything. But it would have to wait for her to get home.

  At least I won’t have to feel guilty for the meeting that got scheduled to start at six o’clock tomorrow night, meaning I won’t get out of here until after seven.

  CHAPTER 35

  Tuesday morning I woke to the sound of Phoebe singing “Happy Birthday” and the smell of coffee. I opened my eyes and was surprised to find her holding a tray, with a cup of coffee and a cupcake with a candle burning. A second cup of coffee and cupcake also sat on the tray, I presumed for her.

  “Happy birthday, Mom. Make a wish,” she urged.

  I closed my eyes and thought my wish as loudly as I could. I WISH I COULD GET MY LIFE FIGURED OUT! And I blew out the candle.

  “I hope your wish comes true, Mom,” she said, kissing me on the cheek.

  “Thank you for remembering my birthday, honey.” I said. “Where did you get the cupcakes?”

  “Anand took me to Crumbs so I could get them. That place is awesome,” she beamed as we both dug into our unconventional breakfast. “I still can’t believe Jack did all this for me. The tours and the interviews. I’ll have to find a way to thank him.”

  “I’m sure you’ll come up with something,” I assured her. “For now, just be your charming self at the meetings and that will be a start.”

  “So, what are you doing on your birthday and day off?” she asked. “I wish I could hang out with you.”

  “Don’t worry about it one second, hon. Actually, I have no plans what-so-ever.” I smiled. “I was thinking that I’d start with a run in Central Park. And this afternoon maybe I’ll just wander around taking in the sights. Something low key, for sure. Unless you want me to tag along with you at Columbia and NBC?”

  “Thanks, but I think it would look better if I did this on my own, you know?”

  I nodded, and was so proud that my little girl was growing up so wonderfully. “Hey! Would you like to go see a Broadway Show tonight?”

  “I can’t think of anything better,” she grinned back at me.

  “Any idea what you want to see?”

  “It’s your birthday. You choose.”

  Finishing our cupcakes and coffee, I let her get ready for her day of meetings, and I got dressed for a run.

  At nine-forty, we headed to the lobby together. Anand was already waiting for her at the curb. I saw her off, then headed to Central Park for my run, trying to get my head on straight and make my birthday wish come true.

  Let’s see, there was Kevin. Sweet, funny, smart, and gorgeous. Incredibly skilled in the ways of making love and happy to let me be the strong one in bed. He made me feel young and carefree. But maybe that was because he was young himself. Just how young? I wondered. Did I really want to know?

  Then there was Jack — intense, thrilling, smart and gorgeous and a sex god in bed. He made me feel so very wanted. He was kinky and brought out a side of me I didn’t even know existed. I thought about the binding, the blindfolds, and the flogger. What other things could he show me? A fire started to burn in my belly.

  And last, but not least Greg. The man who had been at my side for the past twenty-four years, the father of my beautiful, smart, and talented children. He was patient and kind. I think in the early years he was attentive, but since kids, his attentions have been more toward his job. And in bed he was – well, he was a dud. Maybe I could teach him a thing or two? I giggled to myself.

  I made it back to my building around eleven, my six mile run taking me longer than it did the first time. I guess so many things on my mind, coupled with my lack of sleep was catching up to me. I took a luxurious shower and afterward, stood back looking at myself in the mirror.

  Today I turned forty-three. I looked pretty dang good for forty-three. And for having born three children. I tried to see my body the way Jack and Kevin did. I could see it. I could see why they liked what they saw.

  Embracing my newfound sexuality on my birthday, with the day to myself, in my birthday suit I went to my bedroom and pulled open my night stand drawer. My naked way reminded me of Jack telling me that if he were to make the calls, I’d never wear clothes in his home. The idea was scintillating. I pulled out the gift from Jess. Imagining Jack’s body and Kevin’s body I popped in the batteries that came with it, and explored the functions of my new toy. The shaft was about the size of Kevin and Jack, okay, maybe Jack was a bit larger. I blushed.

  Getting out the lube that came in the package, I slicked up the toy then laid back and gave my slit a coating, which I then realized wasn’t really necessary. I was terribly turned on by the prospect of using this B.O.B., as Jess always called it.

  Turning on the external ‘rabbit’ to a low vibrate, I ran the wobbling ears over my nipples nurturing the wonderful sensation that had already started in my belly. I filled my mind with images of Kevin’s tattoos, and Jack’s closet, and spent the next half hour or so treating myself to a wonderful “birthday buzz,” and vowed to thank Jess over and over for the marvelous gift.

  As I lay there, basking in the afterglow, and making plans to buy more batteries, the intercom phone rang. What could Dominic be calling about? Shoving my new favorite toy under my pillow, I ran and picked up the phone, continuing my naked escapade all throughout the apartment.

  “Ms. Fairchild, you have a package. May I bring it up to you?”

  Oh no, I groaned inwardly. Had Jess sent me more sex toys? Well, that might not be such a bad thing. “Sure, Dominic. That would be great. Thank you.” I hung up the phone, shaking my head at my crazy friend. I ran to my room and slipped into a pair of yoga pants and a T-shirt, then grabbed a couple of dollars from my tip money and went to wait for Dominic to arrive at the door.

  But when Dominic arrived with “the package,” my jaw hit the floor. He stood there holding a pair of boxes — one very large (and by large I mean three feet long and about eighteen inches wide and six inches deep) and a smaller one (about the size of a shoe box); both wrapped in silver-paper, bound together with a light purple satin bow.

  I knew right away that this wasn’t a package from UPS or FedEx. I carefully took the packages, noting an envelope on top. It was from Bergdorf Goodman’s!

  “There must be a mistake. I didn’t order anything from Bergdorfs.”

  “No mistake, ma’am. The delivery was specifically for you. Ms. Elizabeth Fairchild. Apartment 6C.”

  “Thank you, Dominic.”

  I handed him the tip I’d grabbed, Dominic tipped his hat, then left without a word.

  I set the packages on the coffee table and pulled out the envelope. I opened it with trembling fingers, wondering who had sent the package. Inside, a smaller envelope fell out which I ignored while I read the hand written inscription in very nice, manly penmanship.

  Dearest Beth,

  May you have the most joyous birthday.

  It has been wonderful getting to know you.

  You surprise me every day.

  I wasn’t sure you had anything to wear to the Opera.

  I hope this fits.

  Yours most truly,

  Jack

  Holy hell! Where do I start? I surprise him every day? Not like he surprises me, that’s for sure. The opera? Yours most truly? I think the room started to spin at that point, so I took a seat on the sofa and picked up the envelope that had fallen to the floor. Opening it, I found a printed map of seating in a theatre. A box seat section with two seats was circled. Along with the map, another hand written note.

  I have asked Shelby to take your lunch shift on Friday, which she was happy to do. Anand will collect you at 11:30am and take you to a wonderful spa for you to have the works. I will be by to pick you up at five o’clock for dinner.

  Afterward, we will enjoy Carmen.

  After that… Well, it’s anyone�
��s guess. XOX J

  I was full-on shaking at this point. He’d rearranged my work schedule? A chauffeured day starting at the spa? Dinner and the Opera? Followed by ‘anyone’s guess.’ Oh, no guessing required, he knew what would follow, and suddenly, I desperately wanted it, too.

  My attention next fell on the two boxes.

  I carefully undid the satin lavender bow that joined the two boxes together and pulled off the shoe size box. Inside, a pair of Sergio Rossi lacy Crystal encrusted “boots.” Phoebe and I had been at Bergdorf’s just the other day. I remember seeing these shoes. If memory served, they were over $1,600!

  Next, the large box. I lifted the lid and pulled aside the tissue. Inside lay a gorgeous salmon colored dress. I tried swallowing, but my mouth had become as dry as a desert. We had also seen dresses like these. They were in the haute couture section of the store. Phoebe and I had fun dreaming about buying clothes like these one day.

  I couldn’t accept these gifts. They were far too generous.

  CHAPTER 36

  I changed out of my hastily tossed on yoga pants and slipped on my new sundress. Next, I fixed my just fucked-hair (even though I did it to myself). Good god, what did Dominic think? Hopefully, he just thought I’d taken a nap. I brushed on a touch of mascara, blush, lip gloss and gave myself a once over. Was the sundress a good choice? It just seemed too hot to wear pants. And it was my birthday. And it was new dress. The sundress had to be it.

  I slipped on the silver sandals, grabbed the boxes and my purse, and made my way outside. I walked to Third Avenue and hailed a taxi rather than walk to his office, which he’d pointed out last week when he took me to dinner.

  I entered the building, giant boxes under my arm, and scanned the board looking for Jack’s company. There it was, JSS Models, Inc. ninth floor. I slipped into the elevator and pressed number nine.

  When the elevator reached its destination, I stepped out and was stunned that I wasn’t confronted with a long hallway of doors to choose from. The whole floor was JSS Models, Inc. And it was gorgeous. Shiny black granite, glass and chrome. Black and white photos of various models, both men and women, hung on the wall. Behind the receptionist, the wall was adorned with a variety of magazine covers with more of, what I assumed had to be, JSS Models. The receptionist looked up and smiled politely. She was a young beauty, wearing trendy glasses. I think Phoebe called them hipster glasses.

  “Can I help you?” she queried.

  “Um, yes. Thank you,” I said stepping up to the granite desk. I cleared my throat and continued. “I’d like to see Jack Stevens please.”

  “And you are…?”

  “Elizabeth Fairchild.”

  She started to read through a calendar, “Eliz—a—bethhhh.” She moved to a list with on a clipboard. “Ffffaairrrr—Oh!” Her head snapped up to me. “Elizabeth Fairchild!” she chirped, like the words just made sense to her. Her eyes darted to the Bergdorf boxes, then back to my face. “You’ll need to go upstairs to the tenth floor. Mr. Stevens’ secretary, Ms. Campbell will be able to help you.”

  What just happened here? She looked for my name, didn’t see it, and then had some recognition on her face like she knew who I was. Was Jack talking to people about me? “Okay. Thank you.” And as gracefully as I could, I walked back to the elevators, and pressed the call button.

  Apparently, the elevator had been called to another floor because the doors didn’t open right away. Feeling the receptionist eyes drilling my back, I turned and glanced, flashing a smile. I was surprised when she wasn’t glaring, rather she was smiling at me. What kind of smile was that? It felt like an I-know-who-you-are-and-what-you-are-doing-with-my-boss smile. I took a deep breath, and pressed the up button again.

  Finally the elevator arrived and I stepped in, eager to get away from the receptionist’s prying eyes. I pressed the button to the tenth floor and let out a breath. Hopefully Ms. Campbell would be less judgmental.

  The doors opened and I stepped out. A glance around confirmed that, again, this floor belonged completely to JSS Models, Inc. The décor was black and glass and chrome, just as the other floor had been, and a few gorgeous shots of the models, but no magazine photos. A beautiful woman sitting at a smaller receptionist station beamed at me the moment I stepped forward. She looked like one of the models, well, maybe a few years ago.

  “Ms. Fairchild, it’s nice to see you.” She stood and walked around to greet me, extending a hand. I suddenly felt very dowdy and short next to her. My sundress and sandals didn’t start to compare as I stood next to her in her three-inch heels and sleek, tailored dress.

  I took her hand warily. “It’s nice to meet you too, Ms. Campbell.”

  “Please, call me Becca. What can I do for you?” She smiled a nice mega-watt smile.

  “Um, I need to see Ja – I mean, Mr. Stevens, about these packages he had delivered today.

  “Oh. Does it not fit? Mr. Stevens is usually very good about guessing sizes for models.”

  “Oh, I’m not a model,” I rushed. Like I had to explain that, I groaned.

  “Yes, honey, I know,” she said with a wink.

  “Can I see him for a moment? Is he in?” I asked, wishing the floor would open and swallow me whole.

  “Of course, love.” She leaned over her desk, flashing her perfect derrière my way and pressed a button on her phone. “Mr. Stevens, Ms. Fairchild is here to see you.” There was a loud clatter on the other side of the intercom.

  “Um. Bring her in. Please. Thank you,” was his reply after a few seconds and more commotion.

  She smiled knowingly at me and turned to walk down the hall. She was most certainly a former model the way she walked so gracefully in those heels. I’d be falling on my face!

  “So, what do you suppose that clatter was? Do you think he’s okay?”

  “If I had to guess, he fell over in his chair.”

  My eyes grew as wide as saucers and my mouth dropped open. “Are you serious?”

  “I can’t think of anything else that would make that much noise in his office.”

  She stopped at a large pair of doors and knocked lightly, then opened the door and stepped aside. I scooted past her, trying to stand as tall as I could, but my five-foot-ten in sandals couldn’t compare to her six-foot-something in heels.

  But I forgot all about Ms. Former Model when I saw Jack standing next to his desk smiling at me.

  “Thank you, Becca,” he said, and the doors closed behind me.

  “To what do I owe the honor of the Birthday Princess’s visit?” he said striding up to me, and placing a sweet, lingering kiss on my lips.

  My brain stuttered as I tried to remember why I had come to this land of sleek and beautiful.

  “Did you come to give me a private showing of your dress? I hope you like it. When I saw it, I knew it would be perfect on you.”

  Oh right. The dress and shoes.

  “Jack,” I started. “These are much too extravagant a gift. I’ll accept the theatre, but –” I pushed the boxes into his hands.

  “Don’t they fit? I’m generally pretty good at nailing a woman’s size,” he said, looking me up and down. He set the boxes on the coffee table that was littered with fashion magazines.

  “Jack. I know they cost an arm and a leg. Phoebe and I were at this store the other day. I can’t possibly accept them,” I said as he set about opening the bigger of the two boxes.

  “Nonsense. JSS has worked with Bergdorf’s for years. I have quite a discount at clothing from there. Practically at cost.”

  “But –”

  “Try it on.” He said held the gown up by its delicate shoulders. Again, my breath was taken away by the salmon colored dress.

  “Jack.”

  “That wasn’t a request, Beth. It was an order.”

  I carefully took the dress that he had hanging between us. He turned and took a seat in a cube-shaped, black leather chair. He brought together his hands together in front of his face, clasping them except for his
index fingers which he rested on his lips. His beautiful lips.

  “What? Here? Now?”

  His steady gaze told me he meant business.

  “But this is your office. Ms. Campbell could come in here at any moment.”

  “She won’t,” he replied calmly, defying the fire that had started in his eyes. “Are we going to do this the nice way? Or the not nice way?”

  My eyes flew open. He wouldn’t dare spank me in his office with his secretary only feet away…

  He rubbed his palms together. I watched his fingers. His lips. His hooded eyes.

  I swallowed and my eyes darted all around. A flood of warmth spread between my legs. I was afraid it was going to dribble down my leg.

  “You trust me, right?”

  “I do,” I said, nodding.

  “Then…”

  His eyes never leaving me, I lay the gown on the side of the sofa.

  “I can’t wait to see that color on your skin,” he growled.

  I stood and peered at him. The hunger in his eyes started to wind the coil in my gut. I can do this, I told myself.

  I raised my arm, and slowly pulled the zipper down that was along my left side, and lowered the sundress down my body. As I did, I watched Jack’s jaw clench and I saw his breath quicken. Being that the sundress was strapless and had some built in support, I hadn’t put on a bra. I stepped out of the dress and walked, wearing only white lace panties, over to the sofa and laid the blue frock on the armrest, kicking off my sandals.

  Standing in Jack’s office in midtown wearing nothing but lacy panties was on the exhilarating side. Especially with the way Jack was looking at me. That we could be caught had my every sense on high alert.

  I moved to the table and picked up the evening gown by the shoulders. The fabric was so luxurious. I assessed the dress more carefully now. There was no zipper. In fact, there was no back. I lowered the dress to the floor and stepped into the middle, fishing for the floor with my toes.

 

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