“I wish we could do this every night,” she says wistfully.
“I know. I’ll be back to my usual hours soon and we should make it a point to do this at least once a week.”
“Deal,” she says in complete agreement. “Now, did you watch Allsopp Court without me?”
“I was tempted to, but I decided to read instead. Grab the ice cream and some spoons. Let’s do two episodes!” We make ourselves comfortable on the old three-seater couch and start watching the period drama with keen interest. Why does this show have such a cult following? Some say it’s a yearning for a simpler time. I think it may be our inordinate fascination with the upper class and how they interact with the staff. It’s funny that, upon closer dissection, I think that, on some level, I am living a modern version of this production.
Tony is definitely the lord of the castle while I’m one of the lady’s maids, milling around. The lord may be enticed to sleep with the staff, but a permanent relationship between them would be unthinkable. Much better for me to set my sights on the ‘valets’ at work. What do I really want? A one-night stand, a full-blown affair, or something else entirely? I have a niggling thought in the back of my mind that what I really want will never be available on the table.
CHAPTER 9
Jen will be happy to know that, thus far, I’ve been able to control myself when I’m around Tony. I steal a glance every now and then or breathe in his scent when I’m standing close, but other than that, I’m doing my best to move out of the ‘stalking’ zone. I think I deserve some pity applause for the effort.
After I was done with the trending analysis for the new food items in Europe, I just had a second to step away, and then I had to start with a run-down of the committee assignments for the ball. I’ve been besieged with requests and even little bribes for placement into some of the committees. However, Tony wants assignments to be delegated on a department basis, so there’s little wiggle room for me. The most coveted spot is in the celebrity coordination committee because, as their name suggests, anyone assigned there will be in charge of special arrangements for the big names who’ll be attending.
Traditionally, the CFO’s assistant heads the welcoming committee. We have the dismal task of making sure that incoming guests are given their badges. What’s terrible is that we don’t even take part in the festivities inside since we stay put at our station and welcome those who come in late. A lot of people do come in midway through the affair. We also need to take care of those who have problems with their seat assignments. It’s a thankless task, but someone has to do it.
“Friend!” Grace greets me over the phone. I haven’t spoken to her in weeks, but with that one-word greeting, I know what she wants.
“Grace, whatever it is, you’re not getting it,” I say firmly.
“What?” she says in an innocent tone. “Can’t I be calling you just because?”
“Uhh, no, considering that you’re always on the road with Bill and I haven’t heard from you in a long time.”
“Livie! Please. Every year we get the same crappy assignment. Can’t you try to put me into something more exciting?” It’s true. The Real Estate Department always gets the bad assignments, mainly because they travel a lot and they won’t be able to do any serious follow-ups when they’re not at the office.
“Sorry, but no can do. Boss’s orders.” I conveniently use Tony as a shield when I’m getting flak.
“Is it really? Something tells me you’re just using him as an excuse.”
“Would you like to take it up with him? I can connect you now.” Tony’s not in his office and I’m lying through my teeth.
“Fine. Just assign me to the garbage committee,” she says with resignation.
“You mean the clean-up committee. One of the most important ones, you know.” Since I won’t be wielding this kind of power when I go back to John, I may as well do a little tripping now.
“I’m gonna have to demote you from friend to less-than-friend,” she says half-jokingly.
“See you later, less-than-friend,” I say with a smile. I put down the phone and immediately see that my boss has just stepped out of the elevator. On cue, the ‘vultures’ are trying to bend his ear about the committee assignments.
“Talk to Livie,” he issues a blanket statement and then winks at me from afar.
I wait for him to come closer and then I give him an earful. “Talk to Livie? Are you for real? Do you know how many calls I’ve received regarding the assignments?”
“Isn’t that why you’re in charge?” He raises his eyebrow at me.
I don’t even bother to respond. I just turn my back by swiveling my chair. I hear him chuckling lightly and then opening his door. His cell phone rings and he answers, “Olá!” He speaks rapidly in Portuguese. It sounds like Spanish but with a different accent, and the few times I’ve heard him speak in his native tongue, I’ve gotten a strange sensation in the pit of my stomach. His voice sounds deeper and sexier. He may be talking about business and other mundane stuff, but to me it sounds like something he would say during foreplay. Thank goodness, he’s inside his office now. Please be cool, Olivia.
Five minutes later, Tony buzzes me and asks me to come into his office. Moments later, I stand motionless in front of his desk, waiting for him to finish scribbling.
“I need you to do me a huge favor. I signed some documents for my mother and was supposed to ship them to her immediately. I forgot all about it and now she’s hounding me. Can you please get the package from my hotel suite and overnight it overseas? This is her address,” he says as he hands me a small slip of paper.
His hotel suite? I retrieve the paper from him with my clammy hand. “And this has to be shipped right now?” I know the answer, of course, but I’m stalling, trying to see if there’s a way out of this errand.
“Livie, I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”
“It’s just that right now I’m in the thick of things where the ball is concerned.”
“An hour or two won’t hurt. Is it really that big of a favor I’m asking?” he asks.
“No!” I hurriedly say. “I was just concerned that my time away might mess things up.” There’s no escape, so I simply say, “May I have the key then?”
He wordlessly hands me the magnetic keycard and I say, “I’ll get going now.”
He inclines his head and says, “Thanks, Livie. My mother really needs the package. I wouldn’t have asked otherwise. It’s in a nine-by-twelve brown envelope. I left it on top of my bedside table. I don’t care about the shipment cost. Pay whatever DHL wants. Just make sure it gets to her by tomorrow at the latest.”
I nod to signal my understanding.
“Oh, and Livie, it’s 1520.” For a moment, I look at him questioningly, until I realize he’s telling me the room number. I feel myself redden and then I quickly move towards the door.
It’s just a room. Go in, get the envelope, and get out as fast as you can. I can do this. I’m just anxious that I’ll remember something and the wall I’ve carefully built around me these past few days will come crashing down.
I drive to the Rembrandt and, within half an hour of being in Tony’s office, I’m handing my car keys to the valet. I go into the lobby and keep my eyes focused directly in front of me. The elevator takes me to his floor. I hesitate as I reach his door, and then put in and remove the keycard in one fluid motion.
The vacant room looks bigger than I remember. The curtains are drawn back to reveal the view and the suite is awash in the sunlight. Everything belongs to the neutral soft white palette, except for the pink azaleas and grape hyacinths in a medium-sized vase on the coffee table. Nothing is out of place. No clothes casually strewn about. No leftover food on a tray. The only visible sign that someone stays here is a stack of hardbound books neatly arranged on one of the bedside tables. On top of them is the brown envelope which I’m supposed to send to his mom in Sao Paolo.
Go now, Livie.
I can’t move – my
eyes are drawn to the perfectly made up queen-sized bed. I involuntarily find myself sitting on the edge, and my hand idly caresses the duvet. Nothing comes to me. Perhaps I should learn to accept that the memory of that one night is lost forever… Oh, what I would give to remember.
Tears come unbidden and, as they course down my cheeks, I wipe them off with one hand. In this age of casual hook-ups and unemotional encounters, the events of one drunken night are best left in oblivion. Why am I crying? Why do I feel like my insides are being ripped apart? Why do I even want to remember?
With a sigh, I stand up, snatch the envelope from the bedside table, and walk away. I hold down the lever and, as I pull the door, Tony, who’s apparently just about to knock, stumbles onto the door.
“Oh God, I’m so sorry!” I see him rubbing the bridge of his nose and I’m alarmed that I may have hurt him. “Let’s go inside and I’ll get you an ice compress,” I hastily say as I grab his hand and lead him inside the room.
“There’s no need to fuss. I’m okay,” he firmly says, though I still see his hand touching his nose.
“There’s every reason. Please just sit down and let me go get some ice.” Thankfully, he sits down at the foot of the bed and says nothing.
I get the bucket and step out into the hallway to search for the ice machine. I find it discreetly tucked in a side room in the middle of the floor’s hall. After half-filling the bucket, I go back to the room, put a few cubes of ice into a face towel, and press the towel onto the side of his nose.
“What are you doing here? Did you feel the need to check up on how I was doing with that one little errand you sent me on?” I ask sarcastically.
He looks at me with amusement in his eyes.
“First of all, this is my hotel room so, surely, I don’t have to explain why I’m here. But, to put your mind at ease, I wasn’t checking on you. I actually called you several times but you never picked up. I wanted you to get a few file folders I needed for an unplanned meeting with my lawyer. I figured that, since you weren’t taking my call, I might as well come over and get the folders myself. Of course, I didn’t think I’d collide with the door.”
“I’m really sorry. Sometimes I don’t hear my phone ringing when it’s inside my purse.”
He looks at my face for an uncomfortable length of time and I realize that he’s probably noticing my red eyes and tear-stained cheeks.
“What’s going on, Livie?”
I silently shake my head. “I don’t know what you mean,” I respond quietly.
“I think you do.”
I inspect his nose for a bump or any sign of redness. “You seem fine now. I have to go to the courier.”
“It can wait,” he says in a commanding voice, at the same time holding onto my right hand so I can’t leave.
He looks at me again, this time with such tenderness in his eyes that I look down, touched by his concern but unable to respond in an appropriate manner. He gently lifts my chin and my eyes meet his. “Tell me,” he whispers.
It must be his quiet tone or the gentle touch of his hand on my face. For whatever reason, I find myself revealing the truth. My voice cracks as I say, “I can’t remember.”
A look of confusion crosses his face, and then he asks, “What can’t you remember?”
I break down, my hands covering my face as I confess what’s on my mind. “You were my first, and I hardly remember a thing about that night.” There, now he knows. My humiliation is complete.
He doesn’t speak for a very long time. His neck muscles are taut and his eyes are wide. Say something. Please.
“Olivia,” he says my name like he’s in pain.
He grabs my hand and pulls me down to sit next to him.
“Make me remember,” I say to him as I look into his troubled eyes.
He shakes his head slowly and I wait for him to continue. A loud sigh escapes his lips. “I’m going to hate myself for what I’m about to say.” He pauses once more and I slightly squeeze his arm as if to urge him.
“Liv, nothing happened that night.”
“I don’t understand.”
“We kissed, but it wasn’t even five or ten minutes after we entered the room when you just suddenly blacked out. Fortunately, I was right next to you. Then I put you to bed. When I woke up, you were gone.”
My relief is palpable and I kiss him on the cheek. “Thank you.”
He smiles. “I think this is the first time I’ve ever been thanked for not having sex with someone.”
“No, it’s not that. I’m thanking you for not taking advantage, for being honest…” I’m not sure if I should be saying these things to him.
“Livie, what the hell were you doing, getting drunk and going with a complete stranger to his room?” He doesn’t say it, but I know what’s on his mind. He thinks I’m cheap and desperate.
“It was my first time to drink that much alcohol. I have no excuses. It was like I was acting out of character….” Great, now he thinks I’m stupid and irresponsible.
“I could have hurt you.”
I bite my lip, not knowing what to say.
“I would never have touched you, let alone gone near you, if I had known,” he says almost fiercely.
“Why? Because my virginity is a huge turn-off?” I ask lightly.
“You must be joking.”
“I’m serious. Is that why?”
He looks at me like I’m insane. “Your first time should not be with some random guy. It should be with someone special. I think you know what I mean.”
I stand up and touch his shoulders, forcing him to look up. “I’ll say this now while I haven’t lost my nerve. I want it to be you.” I close my eyes, afraid to see the look on his face.
“Livie, you don’t know what you’re asking from me.”
I open my eyes and his expression baffles me, but I won’t let go. “I do. But I would rather be with someone I know and respect.”
“You are so naïve, and you have a lot to learn.”
“Teach me then,” I calmly say as my gaze takes in his stunned face. He says nothing. My hand reaches boldly for his right one and I let it rest on my breast. I’m not sure where these words are coming from or why I’m behaving this way. But I feel desperate, even frightened – almost disembodied, like I’m observing the whole scene from the farthest corner of the room.
He slowly gets up from the bed and now towers over me. His brows furrow and his lips are set grimly. “Just so we’re clear, this is all about you?” A thousand things come to mind, but I dare not say anything. Does he want to make it clear that I am responsible or that I only have myself to blame? Or is he saying that it’s about my pleasure alone? I don’t ask. I don’t care. I just slowly nod my head. Liar. This is about him. I want him. So badly.
He takes off his suit jacket and starts to unbutton the cuffs on his shirt. His gaze roves over me with intense concentration, and he says, “Do you want to undress me?” My heart thumps and I come closer. With trembling hands, I slowly unbutton his shirt and take it off him. An involuntary sigh escapes me as I see his muscular chest and broad shoulders. He is so darn beautiful.
My fingers start to fumble with the opening of my top, but he stops me. He bends to kiss the pulsing hollow at the base of my throat and I moan involuntarily.
“Shall I stop?” he asks almost mockingly.
“No. Don’t,” I say in a sultry whisper.
He swipes my hair over one shoulder and leads a trail of kisses up my neck. I feel his tongue sweep over my skin as my heart pounds against my chest. Bending over me, he begins to suck my neck and then nibble my ear while I draw closer to him, wanting so much more. I shyly look up at him and he cups my face to kiss my chin and my cheeks. My breathing accelerates and I beg him in a tortured voice, “Please.”
“Tell me what you want, Livie.”
Standing on tiptoe, I draw his face to mine, pausing with our lips barely touching, breathing each other’s air. Unable to wait any longer, I touch my lips
to his. He groans, puts his hands on my ass, and holds me tightly against him. My lips are smothered with a savage intensity, his tongue thrusting to taste me. I cling to him as I drink in the sweetness of his kisses and a fever is raging uncontrollably through me.
He unbuttons my blouse, then midway through, rips it open, seemingly impatient to see me unclothed. Next comes the tugging at the zip of my skirt until it drops to the floor. Openly, he stares at me as I stand in front of him with only my lacy bra and panties to cover me. Goose bumps form on my skin as the air conditioning hits me. I feel self-conscious, yet strangely excited. “You make me ache,” he says as he takes my hand to touch him through his trousers. As if I have no will of my own, I slowly unzip him and let him remove his pants.
“I don’t want to rush this,” he says with a slight smile. He unhooks my bra and pulls down my panties. “Lie down.” I shyly make my way to the bed and try to cover myself with the duvet, but he flings it to the floor. We immediately kiss with such ardor after he joins me. His moist, firm mouth demands a response I am only too willing to give. Those warm lips sear a path down my neck and shoulders until he reaches my breasts. I crave the roughness of his stubble on my skin as he starts to devour them, one by one. He flicks his tongue over each nipple, making them hard, and I groan wildly. Like a hungry man, he moves back and forth between them. Each nipple becomes turgid as he pulls roughly and sucks, making me lift my back from the bed.
“Let me feel you down there,” he murmurs as he slides his hand over me and feels the moistness on his fingertips. After some time, he glides his palm between my legs. I am so consumed by desire, my body shivers from every stroke. I feel him put a finger inside me, take it out, and then push it in once more. He moves further down my body with his mouth, and plants kisses along my thighs. As my legs open wide, he nuzzles his face into my fold, forming erotic circles on my flesh with his tongue. He licks me, pushing his tongue deeper inside each time. I feel no shame as I eagerly submit to his fondling. Every part of me is exposed and my senses are on fire. My nipples tighten and a strange feeling is surging through me.
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