Rich S.O.B.: A Romantic Comedy

by Bijou Hunter

  Cocking an eyebrow, I frown at her smiling face. “Yes, but not like you mean. He was the brother mine never was. I trusted him, so when he left, it wasn’t about him changing his address. He’d abandoned me and what we built.”

  “He broke your heart.”

  “Stop mocking me.”

  “I’m not,” Junie says, running her foot up my calf. “I know how you feel about him. I feel the same way with Mallory. If she one day left me behind, my heart would break. Losing her would cripple me in the way losing my dad and Oona crippled my mom. Love can make you strong, but it’ll also cut you down at the knees.”

  “Do you have space in your heart for anyone else if Mallory owns it?” I ask, wondering what it’s like to be Junie’s favorite person.

  “No, so you should probably stop chasing me.”

  Smiling, I wipe my mouth. “Maybe I ought to challenge her to a fight. The winner keeps you.”

  “Mallory will probably win. She bites, and I don’t see you beating the crap out of a girl.”

  “You never know.”

  “About her biting or you beating up a girl?”

  “For what I want, I can be ruthless,” I say, now startled by my hard tone.

  “Yet you can also seem cowardly.”

  Frowning, I set aside the napkin. “Harsh.”

  “The truth usually is.”

  “What are you willing to do to get what you want?”

  “Put up with your shit,” she says and gives me a wink before laughing into her coffee mug.

  “I’ve noticed that.”

  “I’m fickle, but for you, I’ve made an exception.”

  “And you need to keep doing so.”

  “We’ll see. Your good looks will only take you so far.”

  “I do worry now that we’ve fucked that you’ll lose interest. How much of your devotion is simply a worship of my looks?”

  “Are you asking if Mistress Beaver has blinded me to your flaws and now that she’s satisfied sexually if I’ll dump your moody butt?”

  “Yes, I’m asking exactly that, but I think I’d word it differently.”

  “Well, of course, you would word it differently. You like to talk around things rather than blurting out the painful truth.”

  Cocking an eyebrow, I study her. “You haven’t answered me on whether your interest in me is purely sexual in nature.”

  “If it was only about sex, I’d have let you drown outside yesterday. No way am I working this hard to get laid.”

  “I’m glad to hear that.”

  “What’s the most work you’d put into getting laid?”

  “I went roller skating and fell on my ass a dozen times.”

  “Did it work?” she asks. “Was the girl wooed off her damn feet by your effort?”

  “Most definitely. She’s my slave now and completely worth breaking my ass over.”

  Junie stands, leans over, and kisses me quickly before returning to her seat and taking a bite of stew.

  “What was your sex life like before me?”

  Uncomfortable sharing with Junie, I have to force the words out and only succeed by focusing on the food rather than her stunning face. “About once a month I’d meet with a woman who understood there would be no small talk. I’m not interested in a girlfriend.”

  “So she strips down and does the dirty and then leaves?”

  “Basically.”

  “Do you pay her?”

  “She’s not a prostitute,” I mutter and visibly irritated by the insinuation.

  “Does she prefer to be called an escort?”

  “She’s a woman who lusts after me and is happy to have what I offer. If she expects more, she understands I will never provide it.”

  Junie chuckles. “She sounds like me.”

  “You expect more.”

  “Now I do, but I’m probably fooling myself,” she says, losing her smile.

  “Ask for what you want, and I’ll do my best to agree.”

  Focusing hard on my face, she says, “I want to enter your penthouse and have you show me around. I don’t need to eat there or sleep there, but I want you to welcome me into your home like I’ve done with mine. Is that something you can agree to or will you end up meeting me at The Rosemary again?”

  “I promise to let you into my home, but you can’t make snide comments about my decorating choices.”

  “Can I have a panic attack about your decorating choices followed by you fucking me into feeling better?”

  “Fucking wasn’t what calmed me down.”

  “It didn’t hurt, though.”

  “No, it didn’t.”

  Smiling, she leans back in the chair. “If you blow me off when I come to your place, it’ll break my heart, and I won’t give you another chance. That’s not a threat. It’s just me admitting my limitations. I’m not a person built for drama, and if I can’t trust you, I can’t keep hoping.”

  There’s no malice in Junie’s words. It’s simple really. If I can’t get my shit in order and find a way to let her into my life, we’re over.

  CH 20

  ❁ Junie❁

  I sit in my car long after parking in front of the Dietrich Tower. Letting the engine idle, I lie to myself about why I hesitate. First, I pretend I want to finish listening to a song. Then, I need to check my makeup. Finally, I turn off the car and stare out the window at the front of the building.

  For the last two days since Asher showed me what hides under his suits, my heart can’t stop singing. While I never hated sex, it was something I could live without.

  With Asher, everything is simply better. His kisses and touch are more addictive. I adored our time together from the best orgasms to the worst panic attack.

  Now I refuse to leave my car. As much as I want to see Asher, I can’t force myself to climb out, strap on my skates, and face whatever he has waiting for me.

  If Asher sends me away, what’s my next move? Or what if he’ll only meet me at The Rosemary for dinner? Should I be insulted by his unwillingness to allow me to enter his home? If so, how far am I willing to go to protect my self-worth? Do I end things when I crave him constantly? Can I accept he’ll never give me everything I need?

  All those questions need answers, and they aren’t waiting for me in this car. I open my door and switch from sandals to my zebra-striped skates. Despite my fear of losing Asher, I’m not a coward. Whether I expect a catastrophe or triumph, I always do what I want and live with the consequences. Today will be no different.

  ‧:❉:‧ ♂ ♀ ‧:❉:‧

  ❁ Asher ❁

  I spent the entire day pacing through the penthouse and worrying over Junie’s visit this evening. She texts me from work to ask if she should bring anything. I respond with a simple “no” since the last thing I need is clutter in my sparsely decorated home.

  As the hour of her arrival approaches, I’m exhausted from my inability to stop pacing. I end up popping an anxiety pill even though I hate taking medicine and the last thing I need is to feel so calm that I’ll want to sleep.

  Watching me stress all day, Egor handles the dinner details. He directs the chef and schedules an extra cleaning person to scrub the penthouse. Egor ensures I’m left alone to pace, but I’m unsure if he’ll do the one thing I can’t tonight.

  “I need you to let Junie into the penthouse,” I say minutes before she arrives. “I can’t do what needs to be done.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I want her here,” I say in response to the irritated look he gives me. “But you know how I feel about people in my space.”

  “Of course, sir.”

  “Stop with the ‘sir’ routine. You only use it when you’re unhappy, and I’m not in the mood to deal with your moods.”

  “I only want you to be happy.”

  “And I can only be happy if I push myself for Junie. I’ll never find another woman like her.”

  Egor looks ready to share his feelings on the matter but is interrupted by the ringing
house phone. Security downstairs says Junie is here, and the time has come for me to have her in my home.

  Standing in the family room, I enjoy the view of Dietrich in the late afternoon. Junie mentioned wanting to go hiking in the nearby hills. A part of me wants to go with her. Decades have passed since I enjoyed the natural beauty of the area. In fact, I only went when Mom insisted Alistair and I join her for Mother’s Day. I hated every single minute of the outing, but that was probably because of my idiot brother’s pussy jokes.

  I imagine hiking with Junie, though I’ve only seen her barefoot or wearing skates. She must own a pair of boots if she wants to hike. We could take sandwiches and enjoy a makeshift picnic. These ideas seem so simple when I’m safely in my penthouse. Once I’m out in the world, nothing feels easy anymore.

  “He’s in the living room,” Egor says and guides Junie through the glass doors to where I stand near the windows.

  Junie skates toward me, nearly slamming into my body before wrapping her arms around my waist and patting my butt cheeks with both hands.

  “Is it wrong that I hoped you’d be naked when I arrived?” she asks.

  “Not wrong as much as delusional.”

  Junie smiles up at me, and I kiss the bridge of her nose. I want to do more, but Egor remains at the doorway.

  “The chef is ready to serve whenever you choose,” Egor says when he catches me frowning at him.

  “Thanks. We’ll want to talk before eating.”

  As Egor leaves us alone, Junie returns to fondling my ass. My lips cover hers, stealing her breath away along with her will to squeeze.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” I say once our lips part.

  “Are you? I wasn’t entirely certain you’d let me through the door.”

  “Neither was I. That’s why I asked Egor to do it,” I admit and kiss her again.

  Junie smiles against my lips and then pulls herself free. “Let me see this view from your castle in the sky.” Skating around me, she stares out of the full-length windows. “Wow. Dietrich looks so beautiful from up here.”

  “Much better than on the ground.”

  Junie smiles at me and then looks down. “Hey, wouldn’t it be funny if I were afraid of heights?”

  “Are you?”

  Skating backward a few inches, she nods. “Never noticed that before, but I’ve only been up this high a few times before. Mainly in airplanes. Once I climbed the Teotihuacán Pyramids, and I was a little dizzy on the top, but I assumed that was because I was tired from the trek up.”

  “Well, we are batting zero on enjoying each other’s homes. Your walls trigger something negative in me, and you’re afraid of heights.”

  “Afraid might be too strong a word. I get vertigo, but I won’t cry or run away screaming.”

  “Are you implying I cried and ran away because of your red walls?”

  “Of course not. I mean, you clearly wanted to, but I distracted you with calming words and fondling fingers.”

  Grinning, I look out the windows. “I can see your neighborhood from another part of the penthouse. Sometimes, I sit on the balcony and wonder what you’re doing right that moment.”

  “Probably napping or eating. No, most likely watching TV. I really enjoy the boob tube.”

  “Why is that?” I ask while she skates around on the smooth concrete.

  “When I was a kid, Mom and Oona loved shopping on the weekends, and I was expected to go with them because I was also born with a vagina. Dad stayed home watching TV alone until one Saturday I asked if I could hang out with him rather than deal with my mother and sister and their six-hour window-shopping slog.”

  “What did he watch?”

  “The Discovery Channel. History Channel. Animal Planet. Stuff he could veg to. Dad was all about comfort. He picked his medical specialty because he didn’t want to be on call or have a stressful schedule. At first, I only stayed home with Dad to get out of shopping. Eventually, I loved our weekend TV time. We only talked during commercials. I’d make snacks, and he’d cook lunch for us. It was real laid-back bonding, but I loved it.”

  Junie doesn’t tear up when speaking of her father or struggle against her memories. Instead, she embraces the past in a way I doubt I would if our positions were reversed. Had my brother and father died when I was a teenager, I can’t imagine I’d smile as easily as Junie. No doubt my mother would have handled their deaths better than Junie’s mom.

  Come to think of it; I can imagine what my old shrink would claim. I’m attracted to Junie because she reminds me of my affable mother while Junie is drawn to me because I remind her of her broken mother. We’ve connected with a replacement of a person we failed to connect with earlier in our lives.

  No matter what spurs our initial attraction, Junie and I are on a path together we can’t leave.

  ‧:❉:‧ ♂ ♀ ‧:❉:‧

  ❁ Junie❁

  Asher’s place scares the ever-loving Häagen-Dazs out of me. The floors are a shiny concrete as is the ceiling. I felt like I’m inside a parking garage. Oh, and the view is spectacular but overwhelming. Instead of a few windows, the entire walls are glass. This might be amazing if we were in a house rather than twenty stories up. A little voice in my head warns I’ll skate off the edge and fall to my death.

  I know I won’t. I rarely give into panic, but I can’t get away from the view. Every outside wall is glass. Most of the inside walls are glass. There’s no privacy, no hiding spots. I wouldn’t be surprised if I could see the Colorado Plateau from the toilet.

  Despite my fear of rolling to my death, I don’t mention anything to Asher. He’s too busy showing off the feast the chef from The Rosemary cooked for us.

  “A variety of ingredients for sandwiches. Two different potato salads and even a fruit salad.”

  “Can we pig out or is there some annoying way I’m expected to eat?” I ask, thinking of The Rosemary’s odd plating choices.

  The chef gives me a dirty look. Before I can react, Asher clears his throat and gives the man a menacing frown. I can’t help smiling at how Asher’s face is perfectly suited for threatening looks. He could be quite the badass if a life of crime interested him.

  Egor carries platters of food to the dining room where I’m again faced with the open beauty—and potential death—provided by Asher’s glass walls.

  “What’s wrong?” Asher asks once we’re seated at a long, shiny black dining table.

  “I’m learning to deal with my unease of heights.”

  “You won’t cry and run away, will you?”

  “Of course not. I’m wearing skates. How would I run?”

  Asher leans over and kisses my cheek. “It’s amusing to see you edgy instead of me.”

  “No doubt,” I say, glancing at the wall of windows. “Don’t you feel exposed with everything open this way?”

  “I have more privacy up here than almost anywhere in the world.”

  “Your place feels huge and exposed. It’s not how I’d live, but I’m learning more about you by seeing your home.”

  “I feel like you’re coddling me.”

  “Why, because I’m being nice rather than pointing and laughing? Is that how you see me?”

  “Yes. You’re awful,” he says, smirking at my irritation.

  “You’re a smelly cocktail weenie.”

  “Selfish cold cut.”

  “Wait, did you say ‘cut’ or ‘cunt’?”

  “What do you think?”

  “I think you’re hinting you want me to see your bedroom after we’re done with dinner.”

  “I own a fine bed,” he says, and his smile turns devilish. “It’s expensive as hell.”

  Smiling, I set aside my sandwich and shift onto his lap. “You did a good thing by inviting me here. Big steps for a big sexy man.”

  “Now you’re definitely coddling me.”

  “Only as much as needed to get you naked and between my legs.”

  Asher shifts so I’ll slide off his lap. “I’m not
hungry.”

  “Neither am I.”

  He takes my hand and rolls me down a long glass-walled hallway to his bedroom where I realize I’m in trouble.

  “Woe is me,” I mutter at the sight of the two walls of glass, making me feel like I’m floating in the air.

  “Too much?” Asher asks before sitting on his giant bed.

  I take in the stunning view of East Dietrich from the corner of his bedroom and wish I weren’t nervous about stripping down with so much openness around us.

  “I feel exposed,” I whisper.

  “At your place, I feel claustrophobic.”

  “So we should break up then?”

  Asher stands up and smiles. “I’m not giving you up even if you beg.”

  “Sweet,” I say, patting his cheek. “But I really wanted to see you naked tonight.”

  “I’m fully prepared to strip for you.”

  “Not here. Do you have a room without all this?” I ask and gesture at the view.

  “The only rooms without a wall of windows are the kitchen, and no way are we doing anything sticky in there.”

  “You’re so persnickety.”

  “You like that word.”

  “I like you better,” I say, wrapping my arms around his waist and resting my head on his chest. “Maybe you can blindfold me so I can forget we’re in here.”

  “I want to see your eyes,” he whispers. “And I need you to actively participate in ways that don’t involve you smacking me in the face because you’re unable to see.”

  “Don’t like it rough, huh?” I snicker.

  “Do you?”

  “What do you think?”

  A grinning Asher presses me against his body so I can feel his erection. Or maybe he didn’t plan for me to notice his manhood beckoning me, but here we are.

  “What now?” I ask.

  Asher cups my face. “I love you.”

  “Well, I love you too,” I say while fighting elated giggles.

  “I assumed as much.”

  “Smug bastard.”

  Smiling, he takes my hands. “No argument there.”

  “Even though we love each other,” I say, savoring the words, “we’re stuck at a crossroads. I have no idea what our next step should be.”

  “I do, but it’ll involve a short drive.”