by Marni Mann
Eleven
Eve
James: We’re in the same state, finally, and I haven’t seen you in almost 48 hours.
Me: Max’s fault. You know I’m married to his peen whenever he’s nearby. But he left this morning, so I’m free. Dinner?
James: You read my mind. Brett has another meeting tonight, so you can have me until at least midnight.
Me: Good. I need your ears.
James: What’s going on?
Me: Adulting kinda stuff.
My cell started to ring, and James’s name and a picture of the two of us appeared on the screen.
I laughed as I hit Accept and said, “Seriously? I’m going to see you tonight.”
“You never bitch about adulting, which means whatever is bothering you has to do with Max, and you never bitch about him, so this has to be serious.”
“You know me too well.”
“Ugh, girl, if I wasn’t driving to the studio right now, I’d be headed to your place with a case of wine. Tell me what’s going on.”
I backed away from the clothing rack I’d been organizing and took a seat on the couch. Since Max had left so early and I wasn’t able to fall back asleep, I’d used the time to finish clearing it off.
At least I was productive in his absence.
I rested my elbows on my knees and said, “I’ve been thinking about the conversation we had the other day. You know, the whole me-ever-wanting-more-with-Max thing.”
“And it pains you to admit that I’m right, but…I’m right.”
“Maybe.”
“I’m no expert, obviously. My history with men isn’t exactly extensive, as you know. But I know my best friend, and lots of times, I know what you’re going to do before you do it. And I know this flying-back-and-forth thing sucks because I do it and I hate it and I don’t even commute as often as you do.”
I chewed the corner of my thumbnail, pressing my other fingers against my temple. “I told Max last night that I thought he should oversee the LA office.”
“Finally! What did he say?”
I knew his answer by heart.
I’d been hearing his response in my head since he said it.
I’d even heard it while he was licking my pussy in the bathtub.
And again while we had sex on the bathroom counter.
And when he kissed me good-bye this morning.
Over and over.
Like a damn woodpecker, gnawing at my nerves with each pound of its beak.
“He said, ‘Nothing in this world would make me want to move back here. I fucking hate this town.’”
“Ugh. I know.”
“You…know?” I stood and started pacing the living room, stepping around the boxes of shoes that were propped against the wall and the racks of dresses and suits I had everywhere and the tower of sunglasses I’d just labeled this morning.
“While I was in Norway, Brett said that Scarlett was having a hard time with finding someone to run that office. I told Brett that Max should be the one to do it, and Brett said Max would never move back to LA. I guess all the partners have asked him, given that he’s the most flexible, and he told all of them no.”
What surprised me about this conversation was that everyone knew Max would never relocate here.
Everyone but me.
“This is so fucked up,” I said, stopping at the entrance of the kitchen, seeing Max’s coffee cup in the sink. “And it puts so much pressure on me.”
“It does.”
“But, James, I can’t move to Miami permanently. My clients are here, and I’ve worked my ass off to get the ones I have.”
“I know, babe.”
I turned, pushing my back against the wall and sliding down until my ass hit the floor. “There has to be a solution that doesn’t require me being the only one sacrificing. Because, as it stands right now, I’m the one who’s constantly traveling to see him. It’s rarely the other way around unless he comes here for work.”
“You two are going to have to compromise.”
I laughed even though nothing about this was funny. “We’re talking about Max Graham. That man doesn’t compromise. He’s as ruthless in business as he is in the bedroom and everyday life. It’s his way. Always. And there are no exceptions.”
“My vag just applauded that statement. The rest of me got stabby.”
I shook my head. “Now, you know why adulting is such a bitch.”
“What I do know is that you’ve finally come to a conclusion. That’s a big step. So, now, we need to come up with a plan on how to get what you want.”
“It’s going to be nearly impossible.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. You have something that Max wants, and that gives you the upper hand.”
“What’s that?”
“Your vagina.”
Twelve
Max
Kristin: I arrive in Miami two weeks from tomorrow. I’m there for ten days. Think you can squeeze me in?
Me: I’m sure my PA can tweak my schedule to make it work.
Kristin: Great. Can’t wait to see you again.
The label’s receptionist had seated Talia and me in the conference room. Since our meeting wasn’t for another fifteen minutes, I should have been tackling the hundreds of emails that had come in over the last hour. Instead, the whole goddamn time I’d been here, I’d been texting Kristin.
And, now, I had a new text box open that was addressed to Eve, and my fingers were hovering above the screen.
I wasn’t messaging her out of guilt.
I just missed the fucking girl.
Me: I wish my face were between your legs right now.
Eve: Good afternoon to you, too.
Me: I’ve been thinking about you since I got on the plane this morning.
Eve: Oh, yeah?
Me: Non-fucking-stop.
Eve: I hope the thoughts in your head involve you getting on the plane and coming back to LA.
Me: They involve your pussy and how many orgasms I’m going to give you.
Eve: But you’re so far away…
Me: I won’t be for long. You’re coming to Miami soon.
Eve: I’m so swamped with work right now, Max. My clients need me for premieres and awards shows, so I have to stay in LA.
Me: You’ll fly to Miami with Brett and James next Thursday, and you’ll spend the weekend with me.
Eve: I can’t.
Me: But you want to. I know you do. Because you miss me, and I miss you.
Eve: Why don’t you come to LA to see me?
Me: I’ll be there next month for the soft opening of The Agency, three weeks later for a meeting, and a month after that for the grand opening. It’s your turn.
Eve: Fine.
Me: I’ll change fine to fuck yes when I call you later tonight and get you to come for me on the phone.
The door opened, and I immediately shoved my phone into my pocket. Making sure Talia heard the noise as well, I took a quick glance over my shoulder to where she was seated, and she was tucking her cell into her bag.
Our eyes locked, and I saw the fear on her face.
She had nothing to worry about, but I understood where the concern came from.
This was the biggest meeting of her whole fucking life.
And, even though it was already in the bag, the contract hadn’t been signed by either party.
It would be within the next hour.
I turned back toward the door, and an older man was walking through it, looking like he was coming off the set of a western. Black cowboy hat, denim shirt, bolo tie—everything I would expect from an old-timer in Nashville.
My eight-thousand-dollar custom Tom Ford suit certainly didn’t fit in here.
“Edwin Parsons,” the older man said as he approached me. “CEO of Old Country Records.” He stopped a few feet away and held out his hand.
I’d anticipated the head of A&R since we’d spoken several times on the phone, and I suspected he was the man stand
ing behind Edwin. I’d figured several label executives would be attending our meeting as well due to the size of Talia’s contract. I assumed that was the team of four who walked in next. I just hadn’t thought the CEO of the label would be meeting with us, too.
But I fucking liked it.
Big dogs didn’t scare me.
I actually preferred to be in their presence.
I got on my feet and shook his hand. “Max Graham. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Edwin.”
“When I heard you were coming in, I cleared my schedule. It’s not every day an artist changes genres and is offered the highest contract our company has ever written. I had to meet the man who was responsible for it.”
“She’s worth it,” I told him.
“I believe she is indeed.” He released my hand and looked at Talia, gripping her fingers much lighter than he had with mine. “Miss Sweeny, you’re now our highest-paid recording artist ever to date. What do you think about that?”
“It’s an honor, Mr. Parsons.”
“We’re happy to have you, dear, and we’re anxious to see what you’re going to bring to country music.”
What Edwin wanted to say was that Talia had found herself a hell of an agent who had ridden the fuck out of them until he got what he wanted. And, now, the label was shitting their pants, worrying that Talia wouldn’t sell enough albums to cover their ass.
Edwin didn’t have to worry.
Talia would deliver.
And, when her contract with Old Country Records was up for renewal, I was going to reach out to all of their competitors and work them against each other to get her an even higher deal.
She was worth it.
So was I.
Thirteen
Eve
“We’re making our final descent into Miami,” the flight attendant whispered to Brett and me, so she wouldn’t wake James, who was sleeping on the couch. “Is there anything I can get you?”
Brett held up his tumbler, signaling he’d like a refill.
“No, thank you,” I said, and I immediately heard the sound of an email coming through my phone.
I lifted my cell off the table and held it in my hand, scrolling across the other messages that had come in with it.
While James had been sleeping for the last hour, I’d used that time to catch up on paperwork and billing and scanning some of the résumés that I’d saved on my laptop. I had finally realized I couldn’t put it off any longer and had to hire an assistant. In the last week, I’d made an effort to find one.
But because I’d been so buried in work, I hadn’t checked my email the whole flight. Lots of the messages were clients forwarding me their schedules, some were invitations to go visit new showrooms across the US, and several were from designers, encouraging me to attend their shows and check out their new lines.
And then there was the most recent email that had come through.
I pressed my thumb on the message, so it would take up the whole screen.
Miss Kennedy,
Allow me to formally introduce myself. I’m Alberto Romano, Chief Designer at Horse Feathers. I know you’re well acquainted with our brand and that you have visited our Los Angeles showroom many times and have even dressed a few of your clients in our pieces. I’m aware that our CEO has reached out to you personally to thank you, and I would like to as well. We appreciate your trust in our company, and we’re honored that you’ve given us a chance in a market that’s already filled with established, highly talented designers.
Since our company was birthed three years ago, your name has constantly been mentioned among our design team. You’re someone we’ve followed closely and watched as your business grew, and now, you’re one of the most desired, sought-after stylists in the States. Based on your work and reputation, we understand why. Your taste is eclectic and timeless, and we believe there are so many things we can learn from someone as skilled and gifted as you.
My team and I are based in Milan, but we’d like to set up a meeting with you in the States to discuss the future of our company and how we see you involved in our upcoming plans. As I type this, our legal team is writing up a formal offer that I’ll present to you when we meet. Hoping you’re interested, I would ask you to please send me your schedule, and I’ll have my assistant put together a travel itinerary.
I look forward to hearing from you.
Ciao,
Alberto
A formal offer?
I scanned the email again to make sure I’d read it correctly.
When I saw that I had, I repeated that line over and over in my head, trying to make sense of it.
What the hell?
Alberto didn’t actually mean that he was offering me a job.
He couldn’t have meant that.
As he’d said in his email, I was one of the most sought-after stylists; therefore, I barely had time to breathe, never mind consider having a second job.
But it did sound like he was coming all the way from Italy to meet with me.
And, because I was dying to know what this was all about, I’d definitely schedule a time to get together with his team, but there was no chance I’d do more than just listen.
I loved my gig, my clients, the trust they had in me, and the relationship I’d developed with designers.
I wouldn’t give that up for anything.
Not even Max.
Sigh.
“Are we far?” James said as she lifted her head off the couch.
She looked down toward her feet where I was sitting, and I said, “Just a few more minutes.”
Her eyes shifted over to Brett, and she smiled.
He returned the gesture and held out his glass in her direction. “Want some?”
She nodded and brought it to her lips.
“James,” I said as I finished inputting the last of my clients’ schedules into my calendar, “your assistant hasn’t sent me anything for this week. You really don’t have any events while you’ll be in Miami?”
The partners always had something to attend in Florida. They could have something almost every night if they accepted all the invitations that came in. And she usually accepted at least one.
She glanced at Brett again. “Nope. He’s keeping me chained up for the next four days.”
I laughed. “In other words, I’ll see you when you return to LA.”
She gazed at me with the biggest grin on her face. “Not even close.”
Something felt off.
“Do you feel like clarifying?” I asked.
James sat up and turned toward the large circle window, watching the plane lower as we quickly approached the city.
“You’re seriously ignoring me right now?”
She continued to do so, so I sighed and turned my attention back to my phone. Now that I had my clients’ schedules, I decided to reply to Alberto.
Hi Alberto,
It’s so nice to hear from you. Thank you so much for your kind note.
I have enjoyed watching the growth of Horse Feathers. Your brand has come a long way, and my clients enjoy every time I dress them in one of your designs.
I’ll be back in LA late next week, and I will be in town until the end of the month. Please feel free to pick a day that works best for you. With plenty of notice, I can make almost any of the dates work.
I look forward to meeting you.
—Eve
The plane landed, and as we moved toward the base of the private airport, I saw an SUV pull onto the runway. I knew it was the transportation that would be taking the three of us home.
This was the process, the journey I took every few weeks, whether I flew alone or with one of Max’s partners.
I tossed my phone into my bag, my laptop was next, and I opened the bottle of water I’d been sipping earlier.
Knowing Max would be working all day tomorrow, I’d have plenty of time to finish the things I hadn’t today. That meant I could set up some interviews for when I returned to LA, and I could
reach out to a realtor and have them start looking for some office space. And, because Max never unplugged over the weekends, I knew I’d have several more opportunities to pull out my laptop and get some hours in.
I needed it.
Because, the second I got back to California, things were about to get extremely busy. I had over twenty clients to style for the upcoming week and a few more heading out on press tours where they’d need several weeks’ worth of outfits.
Now that we were stopped, the flight attendant opened the main cabin door and released the staircase that dropped to the ground.
I grabbed my bag and stood.
Before I reached the front, Max entered the plane.
“Hi,” I said, surprised to see him.
He never met me at the airport. I always waited for him at his house, and it could sometimes be hours before he got there.
He didn’t respond.
He just walked up to me and put his hands on my cheeks and his mouth on mine.
Tingles burst through my entire body, and they settled inside my stomach.
It hadn’t even been two weeks since he left LA.
I’d missed him so much.
My body, my heart—all of me.
As he kissed me, I closed my eyes and inhaled his cologne. It was the sexiest smell, especially when it was combined with the feel of his cock as it pressed against me. It was already hard, but the more his lips devoured mine, the longer it grew.
Knowing James and Brett could be watching, I didn’t straddle his waist and grind my pussy against his dick.
But I wanted to.
Once he eventually pulled away, I heard the door behind him close, and the flight attendant approached us.
“Please let me know if I can get you anything, Mr. Graham,” she said before she moved toward the back of the plane.