by Pamela Ann
The waiter took our order and placed a bottle of red wine and breadsticks on the table. Kyle poured wine in our glasses while I munched on the olives and breadsticks.
I was famished.
“The schedule’s going to be flexible. You will be working more at night when I scout during gigs or talk to bands during shifts. You only have to go to the office once or twice a week to do some paperwork. Other than that, you can send emails through your phone when I need you to get some things done.”
“Hmmm, are you sure you want me as your assistant, Kyle?” Arching my brow at him, I questioned his sanity. “What if we fight all the time? What then?”
“Baby, you forget that it’s me you’re dealing with. For years, I’ve dealt with your PMS and your mood swings.” I choked on my olive, but he kept going. “I took care of you when you were sick, held your hair as you puked your guts out over the toilet, taught you how to drive; need I say more?”
“Fine, I get it. When do you want me to start?” I smirked. I wonder what it’ll be like working with Kyle. He was passionate about his job and I admired that; however, there was a lot of baggage between the two of us.
“How does Friday night sound? I need to check out a band that’s playing in Camden.”
“Friday sounds bueno! Try not to be such a slave driver, okay?”
I couldn’t wait to start work. I had always wondered how it would be working behind the scenes; the process, the thrill of signing a great band. I was dying to know.
“I’ll definitely try not to work you to the ground, baby,” he murmured softly. I wonder if Blake will be bothered that he calls me ‘baby?’
Our food arrived and our conversation steered to his job as well as what he had been up to. Stories flowed and we chatted about the people we knew back home. His easygoing personality made it easy for me to be comfortable with him again. If we continued with this kind of progression, our friendship would bounce back in no time. I was confident that it would.
We parted after our lunch date and I had to scurry to The National Gallery Museum to meet my class. We were going to learn about Botticelli and his work. I was energized and psyched that I would get to study it up close. The week before, I had been awestruck with the works of Jan van Eyck, especially with The Arnolfini Marriage illusionism painting. It was simply unique and his perfect execution of geometrical points and perception were outstanding. Not to mention, his application on the reversed reflection of the mirror with immaculate detail had rendered me speechless. His one-of-a-kind depiction of lighting had also made it extraordinary. I had been intrigued and enraptured.
Our class was small with twenty students who were all eager to learn about art and its history. When I got there, the class had already gathered at the far end of Trafalgar Square as our teacher, Mrs. Samantha Collins, checked her roster. She was a charming British lady who talked animatedly with passionate alacrity for anything and everything pertaining to art. Some people had the zeal for it and others were simply apathetic about the subject. I, for one, liked to be absorbed in the artist’s craftiness and mastery.
The execution of their imagination in fine, intricate detail was simply gravitating. It was like being transported and seeing it from their eyes. Their hopes, dreams, emotions, their soul and their very being were captured from their compelling, graphic artistry. My intuitive mind was keen to learn and grasp their unrivaled ingenuity.
While studying the Venus and Mars renaissance painting, I received a message from Blake.
Blake: What have you been up to, poppet? Stuck here about to head for a meeting. I’m knackered.
I couldn’t help turning mushy every single time I got a message from him. I smirked when he used “knackered,” British slang for tired. I was still learning their British colloquialism, but it was funny how I tended to use some of them. Chad, too, but he’d been there for almost five years. He went there to study after high school and decided to stay when he graduated. He told me that once you fell for London, it was hard to let go.
I rushed a reply.
Me: I’m at the National Gallery studying. Btw, I found a job! Drink up some of your beloved espressos. I’m sure that’ll help put you back in top form.
My phone beeped again.
Blake: You were looking for a job? Why didn’t you mention it, poppet? If you ever need money, just say so. Give me your banking details. I’ll have it wired to you immediately.
I almost choked on my saliva.
Me: No, thank you. Keep your money; it wasn’t the issue. I just want to see if I can explore more and meet new people. I only have school and I hate being idle.
Luce mentioned once a few months ago how Blake would give hefty allowances to his women. A week or a month, it didn’t make a difference since he simply spoiled them rotten. Apart from his god-like handsomeness, he was like the Roman god Plutus incarnate, squandering his wealth and lavishing the over-eager strumpets that were ready and willing for him. If Blake Knightly said jump, they eagerly responded, “how high?” I’m not bitter, much.
Honestly, I can’t recall how many women he’d dated since I’d met him; there were countless numbers of them. It was dangerous to think about. A speck of doubt was a speck of venom that would surely poison our budding relationship. We were still building our trust with each other as lovers; my mind could not wander about in the unchartered territory of doubt.
With Kyle, I had encountered many instances where women hit on him constantly or “friends” that would try to seduce him while I was not paying attention. It was aggravating to say the least. With Blake, though, it was like comparing a gigantic lake to an ocean. Overwhelming didn’t even cover it.
So, what’s a woman to do? I simply pushed it aside and distracted myself with dancing or with a handful of French and Italian pastries. Voila! It works like a charm.
Blake: Sorry, meeting just started. Which company will you work for? When do you start?
My stomach did a somersault. Should I tell him the truth or skirt around it? He’ll eventually find out. It was better to break it to him now rather than later.
Me: I start tomorrow. I’m an assistant for M.A.T.T. Music. It’s off my major, but too good of an opportunity to pass up. I’m pretty psyched about it!
I hit send before I could change my mind.
My phone vibrated immediately. Whoa, that was fast. Isn’t he in a meeting?
Blake: Isn’t that Kyle’s company? You’ll be working for him? Rubbish. Tell him you’re going to quit. I’ll get you a job somewhere suitable.
He’s not serious? Screw you. He could shove his demands somewhere else. I wasn’t budging.
Me: Don’t dictate my life! My mind is capable of making rational decisions. If you’re not happy about it, well too bad; deal with it.
If he’s going to think I’ll be complacent like his previous women, then he can think again! I shoved my phone back in my purse, infuriated with his attitude. I’d rather get back to studying Botticelli paintings than deal with His Royal Highness.
My phone vibrated again, but I ignored it.
Let him simmer and fester. He deserved it.
Chapter Fifty
Blake
It had been a hectic day full of meetings, video calls and now, it seemed it was going to get even better. Amelia Mendez was in the middle of her presentation when my Blackberry vibrated. Everyone noticed, but I didn’t give a damn. My mood wasn’t going to be messed with or they’d end up getting fired. Amelia smiled and proceeded. She’d been giving me a lot of blatant come-hither looks. She was certainly beautiful, but I’d been subtly declining her advances.
I’d turned them all down since Sienna became mine.
Sienna: Don’t dictate my life! My mind is capable of making rational decisions. If you’re not happy about it, too bad; deal with it.
Christ! This woman’s impossible! How can she think that working with Kyle would be all right with me?
Me: I made my feelings perfectly clear concerning that cret
in. I’m being rational. I can get you a job anywhere, name it. Kyle has motives. I just want you to be safe; that is all. I miss you, poppet.
I placed my phone back in my pocket and waited for her reply. Ten minutes passed and she still hadn’t answered. She was obviously ticked off. I’d give her time to calm down.
It was evident to everyone within sight that he wanted her back, but his loss had been my gain. I wasn’t as feebleminded as he was. He hadn’t realized how special Sienna was; however, I did. I’d waited gallantly for almost nine months. I wasn’t going to let him snatch her away. Hell. The. Fuck. No.
That first night I had seen her at Toby’s party, I had immediately been bewitched. She wasn’t the type of woman I was usually attracted to, but, Christ, any man would have to be blind not to be captivated by the exotically golden/green-eyed beauty and her lush curves, especially that toned, succulent ass of hers. Her body was just perfect; long wavy mane, C-cups, small waist and a nice rounded, pert bottom. She was the kind of woman who could make a man groan as she passed by. She was lethal to all hot-blooded males in her vicinity.
I was shocked after I had been introduced to her and had made the realization that she was not superficial, instead she was quite a sincere person. She was a breath of fresh air with enough sass, wit and sweetness melded into her goddess beauty that I had instantly wanted to know more about her.
I couldn’t get enough of her.
When Toby had seen where my eyes had wandered, he’d warned me to back off. He’d mentioned that she was in a very committed relationship with her childhood sweetheart and there was no chance in hell of breaking them up. They were in love and would marry someday. So, I had retreated. How could a man compete with that? Love was anathema to me. I had seen my parents in love, but never had I experienced it for myself.
Yet, I couldn’t stay away from her. I was drawn to her; hook, line and sinker. So, I settled for her friendship. When our friendship had flourished, it made me want her more. We had a lot in common and she was fun to be around, but I had to keep my desires buried when she was near. I quietly lusted from afar for months as I practiced the art of restraint and placed a harness on my feelings. When she broke the news that Kyle had cheated and started seeing someone else, I was triumphant and my mind was set on having her.
My plan faltered when she decided to go see him after what he’d done. I let her be. If closure was what she needed, then closure was what she’d get. Had I known at the time what that visit would result in, I wouldn’t have let her go.
When Lucy casually mentioned that Sienna was back early, how distraught she was and why she was distraught, furious didn’t amount to what I’d felt then. The impulse to see her was imminent and I made a dash to my flat to get her spare key. I let myself in the apartment, ready to confront and berate her; however, when I’d opened her bedroom door and had seen her sleeping so soundly, all thoughts vanished.
It pained me that she’d slept with him, but it didn’t change the fact that I still wanted her more than ever. I had to tread carefully when pursuing her, though all my good intentions of taking it slowly had vanished when she’d taunted me in the car; when she had spoken in Spanish. I knew the language fluently, but when she purred in Spanish, I had been flabbergasted. I wanted to fuck her right then, yet I did as she asked and waited.
Then, when she broke the news about Kyle moving here and she needed to help him, I was conflicted. I wanted her, but she was still attached to the man. That night at the park, I was at odds with myself. I wanted her; however, I couldn’t bring myself to ask if she was still in love with him. If she was in love, how in God’s name could I compete with that? I did what I had to do; I walked away. My Sienna didn’t make it easy for me, though. She had to drag that cretin to the club and flaunt him as he groped her right before my eyes. Roaring jealousy floored me and ripped me apart. I was done for.
I knew then.
I knew that if I didn’t possess her, I would be haunted by her forever. They say life was about taking risks, right? My sanity was at stake; the decision had been made.
That same night, when she finally gave herself to me, something deep inside me had changed.
A soul-shifting alteration that had touched the very core of my being; Sienna had done that, unbeknownst to her.
The meeting ended. I thanked everyone as they departed and scampered back to their offices. Amelia sauntered toward me, placing her hand on my chest; a bold move for a bold woman. I met her three months ago when I made a quick trip to oversee the new branch, along with the new project. I was attracted to her and she had easily given in to my advances without hesitation. For two whole nights, I had enjoyed her body. However, seeing her now didn’t do anything for me. Although she obviously wanted to pick up where we’d left off.
“Señor Knightly, what time will you need me to be ready for the gala tonight?” We were both going to represent the company and she was my plus one. It was all business and nothing else. She was a daughter of a prominent family in Spain. She was good at her job and she was a great asset for the company. It also didn’t hurt that she had vast connections in the country.
“Be ready by six. You can go home and get ready. I’m sure we’ll be fine without you for the rest of the day,” I said calmly, cocking my head quickly and going back to studying the paperwork I had in my hands. She leaned a little closer and grazed my cheek. Her perfume was heady and I wanted to get away.
“I’ll be more than ready for you. See you tonight, mi amor,” she purred and then sashayed her tight-clad body out the door.
Running my hand through my hair, I made a mental note to tell her I was seeing someone else. She seemed oblivious to the fact that I had declined her offers, several times. She simply kept on coming nonetheless. Christ, that woman’s going to be trouble.
Releasing a heavy sigh, I went back to my office, sat on my desk and stared at the photo of the woman who had irrevocably bewitched me. It was a picture I had taken the day after making love to her. That night had been one of the best nights I’d ever had. She had definitely been worth the wait. When I’d woken up and seen her next to me, I had to keep a memento; to freeze that moment in my mind. She was everything that I’d ever wanted in a woman and more. I had grabbed my phone and taken the picture. Her hair was disheveled, lips slightly parted and the sheet barely covered her breasts. She looked so peaceful and absolutely breathtaking.
Something tugged inside of me the longer I stared at her. Christ, Knightly, you’ve got it really bad.
Pulling out my phone, I checked for messages or missed calls. I got a few from friends and work, but none had come from her.
I squeezed the bridge of my nose to ease some tension, and then buzzed the intercom, barking for Luke, my assistant who was hired a week ago in London, to come inside my office “this instant”.
“Yes, Mr. Knightly?” the composed, blue-eyed, blond asked.
“Can you check my schedule? Tell me when I’m free so I can visit London.”
After a minute or two, he came back again with the company iPad and checked the calendar. Clearing his throat, he spoke, “Next week, you can leave Friday afternoon, but you have to be back early Sunday to make it for your golf meeting with the Mayor and other investors.”
“Fine, make sure the pilot knows. I want to leave at four and get there by six. Do it before you leave today. That will be it, Luke. Thank you.”
“Good day, Mr. Knightly.”
Fuck! Another week until I see her? Fuck!
Chapter Fifty-One
Sienna
“Owww,” I yelped in pain when my tongue got burned by the scalding hot coffee. I’d been all over the place and my mind had decided to take a vacation somewhere in Marbella. The first thing I’d done that morning was check my phone for calls or messages. I was crushed when he never called or texted last night; he usually called me before he went to bed.
I huffed. If he was still mad at me, okay. I could deal with that, but what I couldn’t fath
om was someone telling me what to do. If he wanted to be with me, he had to change. I was not yielding to his demands.
I was on my way to Chad’s studio in Camden town geared in an all-black ensemble; black cami, black pants and black pumps. It definitely matched my mood and I was in terrible need for girly time. I knew Chad was a man—technically speaking—however he was a woman at heart. His usual laissez-faire attitude would help pick up my mood.
Pulling open the door to his studio, I let myself in and called out his name. The main floor was his actual art studio where he did some of his shoots and his touch-and-go penchant for painting. He only painted when he was stressed out, though. His main focus, pride and joy was photography.
“In here, baby love!” Chad yelled behind the black drapes and I strolled over to him.
My shoes clicked loudly against the hardwood floors as I walked and my eyes scanned the room. The first thing I noticed was black. There were a lot of black drapes lining the room. The second thing I noticed was his equipment. There were a lot of scattered props; black chaise lounge, black covered bed, huge mirrors, metal working table with a lot of strategically placed work-man tools and an all-black Harley Davidson Hot Rod sat in the middle of the room.
I dauntingly stared at the bike. Am I going to be on that thing? Or the guy named Troy?
“Like it? It’s such a sexy bike. I pulled some strings to get a loaner. It’s going to be fabulous! Troy’s here somewhere.” Chad looked around and called out to him.
A man emerged from another black curtain draping on the other side of the room. He was dressed in a low-rise, all black Armani micro-modal trunk. Holy Shit! My eyes landed on his bulging mid-section and then grazed over muscled thighs and up toward his torso. Whoa, was that an eight pack? I’ve never seen one up close. He had the bad boy, dark hair going on. It was a little long, brushing over his jaw, unruly, but it gave him more appeal and a little edge. Dark hair, chocolate eyes and a sexy grin as he saw me check him out from head to toe.