"Now, I need you to make ready refreshments for a hundred people and bring it to conference room 12 at once." He turned on his heel and strode away.
"James is your client?" Agnes laughed from her station. "And you can't remember!"
"It's not funny!"
"Your lover awaits," she said dramatically, pressing the back of her hand to her forehead. "Hurry! I'll take care of the papers."
"Thanks, Agnes!" Sophia hurried past the paper mess and headed for the kitchen where she met with a rushed group of chefs and waiters who were getting dinner ready. She continued straight ahead, after a man with a huge lobster on a silver plate passed by, and then she ducked beneath a plate of cupcakes before swooping around to grab one. Munching on a strawberry flavored cupcake that tasted like sweet heaven, she got to work.
---
Heading for the conference with her trolley brimming with fresh sandwiches and ice cold beverages, she told herself the stress was caused by the unexpected conference, but James kept popping up in her mind and her heart would run just a little faster, sending her mind back to his bedroom. While the idea of someone wanting to punish her for their own pleasure was foreign to her, the idea of his hands on her body made her feel hot and she'd find a way to endure a little spanking.
She paused outside the auditorium, taking a deep breath before she entered. James stood in front, wearing dark gray slacks, a white button-down, and a dark tie, facing the participants. His gaze settled on her in mid-sentence and then he displayed a smile.
"Drinks!" she said, her voice sounding too shrill. "I've brought refreshments," she levelled her voice. God, Sophia, be professional!
"Thank you, Sophia." Her name didn't make sense anymore, no one spoke it the way he did, as if her name was some delectable treat he wanted to keep on his tongue a moment more. Though, she did suspect he could make any name sound fantastic.
"Sorry about the delay," she apologized, steering the trolley to the side.
"Don't worry about it," he said. "Take your time."
She found him still watching her and she quickly focused on her task again. Focus. She opened a few coke bottles after arranging a few glasses. Her hands were shaking. She paused and took a slow breath before trying again. As she was pouring, her grip faltered and the bottle slipped from her hand. She caught it, a millisecond from touching the glasses, followed by a gasp from the spectators. A few drops spilled to the steel surface.
"Sophia!"
She closed her eyes to try blocking out Chris's voice and the situation. How many times had she served drinks? Too many to count. The near hundred people didn't affect her; it was James. She could have been all alone with him in that room and she'd still mess up. What was happening?
A strong hand covered hers around the bottleneck and she gently slipped hers free. "Let me," James said close by, his warmth surrounding her, his hard chest pressing against her back. His cologne held a mixture of deep notes with a little bit of rain and she found herself twisting a wee bit closer and tilting her head to the column of his neck. Maybe he walked to the conference that evening like she walked to work in the morning, uncaring of the rain. She felt his hand on her hip, squeezing her, and she gasped softly.
"Behave, Sophia," he whispered his warning, his breath warm against her neck, against her thudding pulse point, "or they're going to know just how hot I make you feel."
Bye, thoughts.
Her focus was solely on James and his grip on her body. Only when he removed his touch could she gather her wits. She reached out to fill glasses with ice water. A smile stretched across his handsome face, but he didn't look at her while he helped her with the sodas. She bumped her hip into the trolley and the glasses rattled.
"What the heck is the matter with you, Sophia? You've done this enough times to do it with both hands tied behind your back," Chris said, sitting right in the middle of the room. People chuckled. That sentence set off a whole other line of images involving James. Just as she felt her cheeks burn, James set his penetrating gaze on her. Her lips parted, her heart thumped.
"Sophia!"
She steadied herself, quickly adding ice to glasses before pouring water into them and lining them up on the long table by the wall for people to serve themselves. After readying the food in record time, she returned to James who'd let her focus on her task, and paused by him.
"I invited you," she said, lifting an eyebrow.
He grinned, knowing well she didn't remember. "Thanks for the invitation. You gave me an offer I couldn't resist."
And so had he. She gave him a smile, slowly moving away from him. "If there is anything else I can do for you, Mr. Archer," she said, holding his gaze, "I'm all yours."
There was a shift in his eyes, a wicked mood crossing his features. The tension became palpable, a slow urge crawling across her skin and right then she knew he felt it too, reflected in those deep eyes peering back at her and holding her trapped. Had he scooped her into his arms, there'd be no boundary to what she'd do. A clatter from a phone hitting the ground drew his attention away from her, making his eyes flitter to his crowd, the people who had paid thousands of dollars to be there with him. He shot a look back at Sophia and frowned. At last, he gave a nod and Sophia mirrored him before she found her way out of the conference room.
Outside, she leaned her back against a wall and cursed under her breath, disappointed by her weakness. She hoped she collected herself enough at the end there to do her job. Greeting a couple of colleagues, she went back to her station where she began going through her list for tomorrow, making sure there would be no surprises as far as she could tell. When it neared the end of her workday, she kept glancing at her watch. She needed to catch a store before closing time.
"Sophia."
"Hi, Chris." She didn't bother to lift her head to acknowledge him. She made ready a few toiletry baskets for a few more rooms. She wondered why Chris had left the conference. Knowing him, she'd been sure he'd follow James like a lapdog.
"That's not your job, that's the maid's job." He picked up a shampoo bottle to look at. She finally lifted her gaze.
"Lucy's kid wasn't feeling too well. I told her I'd finish her last assignments for the day. I have arranged everything for tomorrow so it's okay." Three more minutes and then freedom.
Chris frowned. "I don't understand that."
Sophia struggled to keep from rolling her eyes. She gave a tense smile, folding a soft towel to put in the last basket.
"Do you know Archer well?" he asked.
She paused and bit her lip. "No," she said at last. "I met him at the masquerade, and invited him here. That's about it."
"Are you sure that's all?" he prodded. He had no boundaries. She shouldn't have been surprised. She almost laughed at the idea of telling Chris of her plans losing her virginity to James. "You seemed to know each other well at the conference."
"I talked with him. Is that illegal? He's one of our clients now, and I've done my best to satisfy him."
"That's very good. He's an important client. Listen, I'm trying to reel him in as a support to my new hotel."
Sophia sighed. Chris married into a rich family, the owners of Herrera's Palace, and had since wanted to expand or go his own route. If it weren't for the family ties, there was no way he'd be in charge and much less in any bank's interest. He needed money and influential people to back him. Sophia loved Herrera's Palace. It was beautiful hotel, okay paycheck and great colleagues when Chris was somewhere else and they could act natural around each other. She didn't want Chris to ruin James's company in any way and the farther apart they were the better.
"I wouldn't feel comfortable," she said truthfully. "I've just met him. You understand that, right?"
It was never going to happen. She wanted one night with him and that was all there was to it. Convincing him to support Chris was never going to happen.
"Yes, I guess I do. But eventually, if you do get acquainted, you could try to win him over."
She had
no desire to get on his bad side. "Of course, Chris," she lied smoothly to keep him happy.
He did his best impression of a smile that made his cheeks quiver and then turned to leave.
The nerve! She planned to call James tonight and get it over with before she messed things up — right after a quick detour to Agent Provocateur.
---
"What's in it, what's in it, what's in it?" Agnes's eyes were glued to the pink bag by Sophia's side when she walked in. She appeared possessed.
"Oh, just something for the weekend," Sophia said. "Take a look." She passed her the pink bag.
"Oooh, Sophia!" she said gleefully, heading toward the living room where she plopped down into the sofa and dug out the lingerie. Sophia opted for a bra in black and white lace, crisscross back, and matching bottoms; semi-sweet with a naughty edge. She envisioned him seeing her in the lingerie set, envisioned his task of getting them off her. "You're going to look incredible. He won't be able to keep his hands off you. I won't be able to keep my hands off you. Sophia, you're in great danger."
Sophia laughed. "That's what I'm aiming for. I'm going to call James tonight."
"Oh, really?" Agnes beamed. "Finally. It's all you've been thinking of since Saturday."
Sophia stared at Agnes. "Am I that obvious?"
"Yes," she smiled, "I'm betting every time you close your eyes, you see him naked."
"No way!" She closed her eyes, only to open them again. "Great, now you've ruined eye-closing-time. I hope you're happy."
"I know you will be." She grinned. "Also, I've put a love spell on you."
Sophia glared at her. "You know how I feel about Wicca. I mean I respect you and everything, but I'm not comfortable with spells concerning me."
"It's just positive love!" Agnes said quickly. "I never specified anyone. I just wrote down insanely hot man wearing suits and might be a sex god. It could be anyone. Maybe even our neighbor Fred."
"Oh," Sophia rolled her eyes, "much better."
"I did it to help smoothen things for you, that's all. Do you think it will work?"
Sophia sighed. She knew Agnes was interested in the occult. She always wore a good luck charm her grandmother gave her as a kid, and ever since she had believed in magic. While Sophia didn't believe in magic, she also didn't want to mess with it. "There's only one way to find out, huh?" Spell or no spell, she still had to call him. "We need wine before I make that call."
Agnes didn't need any more persuasion as she headed for their small bar. Their kitchen was open, divided by a line of cabinets and black granite counter with a line of barstools.
"You're going to sleep with a billionaire," Agnes said. "What if he'll never let you leave? What if you have to live with him in his sky palace for all eternity?"
Sophia watched her friend pour wine. "Don't worry. He's not the type, and I don't plan to change that. We're just after the same thing."
"We'll see." Agnes pursed her lips.
Halfway through the bottle, she let herself sink back into the corner of the couch, her feet propped up on a pillow.
"Are you sure you have his number?" Agnes asked.
"Yes, it's on my phone, plus I have his business card laminated and taped to my wall." Sophia's gaze fell to her watch and saw it sneak past eleven. She emptied the rest of her glass with swift gulps. "I'm ready. I'm just going to call him and let him know that I want to…"
"Fuck him?" Agnes suggested.
"Make love? No," Sophia shook her head.
"Tell him you want him. Ooh, baby, I want you."
Sophia groaned. "He's going to run away, huh?"
"Probably." Agnes stuck her tongue out. "Oh! I can put a spell on him."
"No! No more spells!" Sophia jumped up from the couch, all of a sudden ready. "I'll call him and that's that. I'll know what to say."
"This is hilarious," Agnes said. "I've never seen you stress out over anything before. You speak to business people on a daily basis and I've never seen you flinch."
"He's kind of intimidating," Sophia said carefully. "But in a good way?"
Agnes smiled and nodded. "He's hot as hell. Good luck."
She needed it.
5.
Sir.
She picked up her phone and headed into her bedroom. It was just a phone call; a normal, relaxed phone call with James to plan a night to rid her of her virginity. Her hands shook. She sat down with her phone clutched in her hands and located his number.
"James Archer."
She opened her mouth to speak, but was all of a sudden struck with nerves.
"Hello?"
"James?" she blurted. "This is Sophia."
"Sophia," he said in a way making her wish to be with him right this instant, "how are you?"
"Good, I think." She wrecked her brain for words. "I promised I'd call you. You know…" She pressed her palm to her forehead, wincing. This was a suicide mission.
"You called to see if I had a successful conference?"
"Huh?" she jerked her head up from her palm. "Uh, well, I, no." The noose was tightening around her throat. Why was she so damn nervous? The spike of confidence she built from the wine began to fade. "I've tried to understand your, um, hobbies."
There was a pause. "Oh, that's what you meant." Evident humor marked his words. If he'd see what a mess he left her in, he wouldn't have messed around with her head. "And what did you decide?"
"I want to. Are you busy this weekend? Friday perhaps?" She grimaced. There was no way he was free. Billionaires didn't keep the nearest weekend open! Her fancy, ridiculously expensive lingerie would have to wait.
"I wondered if you'd want to meet first, to discuss what you're comfortable with," he said.
"No, I'm okay with it." It couldn't be that bad. Postponing it meant giving her more time to detach from him and she'd be back to square one. "Do you want to?" she asked, worried she'd annoyed him.
"Trust me, if you weren't such an obvious novice, you'd be handcuffed and straddling me right now."
Sophia lost her phone and it thumped onto her ankle painfully. "Son of a mother."
"Hello?"
"Uh, hmm, hi!" she stammered as she fumbled with her phone, rubbing her ankle.
"Are you all right?" There was a hint of amusement there cracking through his steely calm.
"I'm good! I'm cool." Cool? "I'm fine." Shut. Up. "Listen, I'll deal with your twisted bed habits. Take my offer or say no. I'm not going to beg you to fuck me."
"Oh, trust me, you will beg."
Sophia's mouth opened, but she had no retort, still trying to comprehend such brisk confidence. Deep down, she knew he was dead right, and he already set her body blazing the way he did in the conference room.
He continued, thankfully, "I can rearrange a few things Friday night, if this is what you want."
"That sounds perfect."
"I'll arrange a car to pick you up."
"There's no trouble getting there on my own," she offered. "I don't want to be any trouble."
"I'll send a car to pick you up at eleven o'clock," his voice turned stricter.
"Okay," she said, nodding pointlessly. "I'll stand outside of Grand Pier on 54th and Lexington." Grand Pier Hotel was fifteen minutes away from the apartment and an easy landmark to locate.
"Good. I will see you on Friday."
She clutched her phone. "Yes."
"Good night, Sophia. Sweet dreams." Oh, God, his voice sounded sinful; dark yet caressing. She wished to hear those words brushed against her ear. Sophia shook her head, drawing in a quick breath.
"Good night, James," she spoke softly, and after a longer, heart stopping pause, he ended the call. She lay down, put her phone to her chest, and gazed up at the ceiling.
Sweet dreams. The memory of his deep voice swarmed her.
It was set.
- - -
"Do I look okay?" Sophia asked nervously, stepping into the living room. She wore a black dress that skimmed mid-thigh with a neckline that showed a hint of cle
avage without being too much. Her hair fell down her back in soft curls, some brushing her shoulders and chest. She decided on simple makeup of eyeliner and mascara, and ruby lips.
"Holy smokes." Agnes's gaze flew down her frame and back up to her face. "You look hot."
"Really? Hot hot?"
"Hot, hot, hot." She nodded. "You won't be wearing that dress for long."
"Good," Sophia smiled, "this needs to work. I'm not leaving his place a virgin."
"I don't think that's possible. You'll barely leave this place a virgin," she said, and Sophia laughed.
In the hallway, she reached for one of her favorite coats; a bold blue trench coat she had fallen in love with in a store window after closing time. Agnes went back there and got it for her birthday.
"Ready?" Agnes asked.
"Oh, yes," Sophia nodded, adjusting her clothes, "I'm not returning here until it's done."
Agnes sighed, leaning against the doorframe when Sophia walked out. "Don't overthink it. Relax, stay safe, and enjoy James. In that order. Good luck!"
She so needed it. "Thanks, Agnes!"
The cold autumn wind swept past her on the street and she pulled her coat closer to shield her neck from the bite. A couple shuffled past her, the man's arm wrapped around the woman. Her flowy crimson scarf tore through the dark with its burst of color. Perhaps they were heading to a romantic dinner, Sophia mused. Despite the cold, autumn had its charm. This was her moment to calm down, because she knew the moment she met James, that impossible heat would engulf her. Taking her time, she walked past the endless streetlamps and parked cars, over pedestrian lanes and past a few corner shops brightly lit in the darkening evening. Leaves twirled about when a gust of wind swept by, and Sophia hurried her steps, her heels clicking against the wet asphalt. She spotted tall flags about a hundred feet away, and knew she was close. The monstrosity of Grand Pier soon came into view on her left side, towering above her with white spotlights casting bright streams up the white walls, and set with pompous Ionic columns for the entrance. She headed over to it and paused close to the entrance.
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