by Celia Aaron
Once she’d gone, I decided to work on the contracts that had come back, making sure none of the brokers had tried to slip any different terms past us. I opened my email and saw a message from [email protected]. Her signature image was the Cheshire cat from the animated film. Cute. The subject line read: “Halp! Did I make this too white or something?” I laughed to myself. Adele had attached her creative fiction piece for me to review.
After the first few paragraphs, I knew she had talent. I also knew who she’d modeled the impossibly brown beauty standard on, given his description as “a tall, dark-haired hero, named Jack—the one all women wanted and all men wanted to be.” Dramatic and, I had to admit, flattering. I read through and gave her some tips here and there. Overall, though, she’d taken her premise and run with it, creating a new world where brown was far more choice than any other color.
I wrote back “brava” and “let me know how it goes over at school.” After a few minutes, I received another email full of emojis in various stages of happiness along with a “thank you.” I went back to my contracts with a smile on my face, thinking about how great both the mother and the kid were. From what I’d seen of the Rochesters so far, they seemed like a great family. I often wondered what Eden’s mother was like, especially now that she’d mentioned Ms. Temple knew her when they were young. That would bear a bit more looking into.
I worked through the rest of the weekend, exchanging professional emails with Eden. I wanted to see her again, to pleasure her like she deserved. But I gave her some distance. It was difficult for her to tell me about Mason, and I appreciated her opening up to me. I’d noticed that she never told anyone more than they needed to know. But with me, I felt she wanted to tell me about herself, as if compelled to explain why she was the way she was. I liked being the one she could talk to.
By the time Monday rolled around, everything was in high gear for the huge pre-sale party set to take place in less than two weeks. The design team from Atlanta was back, though this time they were dedicating their skills to making the pool and the lobby into a glitzy paradise. Bess Xiao swooped into the office like a fabulous bird and made a home for herself and her assistant in one of the empty back offices.
I sat in on meetings with them and Eden for two straight days. After that, the designers were all set to head to the coast and start setting everything up. They were getting a head start on Eden and me. We intended to fly down Saturday and stay for a week, giving tours and making sales pitches. Given the high-glamor ideas that ricocheted around the conference room, the party was going to be a spectacle, at the very least.
Late Tuesday night, I helped Bess pack her samples and plans. She had a great flair for art, her drawings making me wish I could do more realism. I tended to romanticize things a bit too much. Her lines were done in unwavering pencil, dark and stark.
I admired one of her quick sketches, a design of stars and lights hanging above a beach paradise. Bess closed the door to her makeshift office and sauntered toward me. Her lips were her signature bright red and her straight, ebony hair flowed down her back. She was beautiful, no doubt—one of the singular most beautiful women I’d ever seen. She placed her small hands on my chest and looked up at me through her lashes.
“I’ve kept my eye on you, you know?” Her voice was low and sultry, practiced.
I did know. She watched me in an obvious fashion, so much so that at lunchtime today, Eden pulled me into the women’s restroom and left her mark. Eden yanked my tie down and set her nimble fingers to work on the top buttons of my shirt.
I fucked her up against the side of the bathroom stall as she bit my shoulder, my neck, licking and sucking my skin. I covered her mouth when she came for me so no one could hear. When we were finished, she straightened her blouse and her skirt, but she handed me her panties.
“That’s my flag. I’ve staked my claim.” She gave me one more long, indulgent kiss before walking out into the office like nothing had happened.
Eden’s panties were still in my pocket even as Bess leaned up on her tiptoes and tried to kiss me.
I put my hands on her shoulders and lightly pushed her back. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”
She bowed her head.
“Look, you’re beautiful. You’re smart. You’re driven. You are one of the classiest people I’ve ever met—”
“But?” She met my eyes again.
“But there’s someone else.”
She raised her perfectly arched eyebrows and her shoulders in a little shrug. “Oh. I didn’t know you were taken.”
“You aren’t mad?”
She made a snort noise and patted me on the chest, her gaze frank. “Please, Jack. I just wanted a quick and dirty, not marriage. We can still be friends, especially since you told me how beautiful, smart, wonderful, and amazing I am.”
I let out a breath of relief and finished packing her things. Her assistant knocked at the door and walked in to load up their cart.
Eden barreled around the corner. “Got everything you need, Bess?”
“Well,” Bess gave me a look, “I got all I could.”
Eden glanced from me and back to Bess.
“Okay, well get on down to the coast and don’t disappoint me.” Eden’s tone was clipped.
“I never do.” Bess gave a little extra sway to her hips as she retreated toward the elevator, her assistant in tow.
Once she was gone and Eden and I were alone, I pulled her into my arms. “Nothing happened, you know.”
She craned her neck to look me in the eye. “I know, but she tried, didn’t she?”
“Can you blame her?” I said with the most faux arrogance I could muster.
She shook her head, relaxing against me. I nuzzled into her hair, breathing in the smell of her shampoo. She turned her face up to mine and I took a taste, dipping my tongue inside her mouth. She opened for me and wrapped her arms around my neck, pressing her breasts into my chest. My cock jumped to attention. I pressed it into her, letting her know how much I wanted her. She made a soft sound, high and feminine. I captured it, never letting it go farther than our kiss.
Even through my dress shirt, I could feel the hard tips of her nipples. I smoothed a hand down to her breasts and kneaded one. When I slanted my mouth over hers, I felt her go weak. I walked her back and perched her on the edge of the nearest desk, knocking off somebody’s Grumpy Cat calendar and whatever else. I pushed in between her thighs and tangled one hand in her hair, pulling her head back so I could lick up her neck.
“Oh.”
Eden froze. I turned toward the noise. Fairfax stood at the edge of the hallway leading to the back office. He must have been working late. Shit.
I took a step back, and Eden stood. The only sound was the low hum of the air vents.
Fairfax cleared his throat unnecessarily, but didn’t move. It was some sort of awkward standoff.
“I was just, uh, just going home for the night.” Fairfax’s own words jarred him into motion, and he hustled past the desks, making his escape to the elevator. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Night, Fairfax,” I called congenially as Eden frowned at me.
“Right, yeah. Night.” I could hear the embarrassment in his voice.
Another few painful moments eked by before we heard the elevator ping and Fairfax get on. I thought I heard him grumble “at least somebody’s getting some” before the doors closed and the office fell silent again.
I ran a hand through my hair. “Well, hell. So much for that Christmas card.”
Eden looked at me, and we both burst out laughing.
Wednesday was equally busy—more planning, more calls, more contracts. I was working through lunch when my email dinged yet again. I gave it a quick look, assuming I needed to add another contract to our pile. I glimpsed the Cheshire grin and opened it.
Dearest Jack,
My teacher raved about my paper. She even read some of it to the class. So, I’m fabulous because of you! Come celebrate with din
ner at our house tonight. You two have been working too hard, anyway. You could use a break. Don’t say no or I’ll tell my mom to fire you.
Xoxo,
Adele
P.S. Just kidding about that last part… Or am I?
The kid brought a smile to my face. Eden decided to push through her glass doors, catching me with the goofy look. She smirked.
“Who made you smile?” She dropped her voice. “Do you have any idea how hard I work to make you smile and you rarely, if ever, cough one up?”
She leaned against my desk in her now-familiar way. If she thought whispering would keep our little affair a secret, she was mistaken. I’d already been subject to numerous skeptical glances and muttered snarky comments from some of the other assistants and even other brokers.
“If you must know, a rare beauty just sent me a dinner invite.”
She raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest. “Oh, really. And who might this be?”
“I’m not sure if she’s a person. She might be a cat.”
She made a hrmph noise. “The plot thickens.”
“See for yourself.” I turned the monitor so she could read the email.
She frowned and shook her head. “Oh, Adele.”
I couldn’t ignore the slight sting at the disappointment in her words, but I muscled through it. “I don’t have to come. It was nice of her to ask, all the same. Give her my regards.”
She stood and then leaned again, as if unsure of what to do. She chewed her bottom lip. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she put a hand on my shoulder.
“You should come. Adele would love it. I told you she won’t shut up about you. It’s gotten to the point that Mother has been demanding she see you to make sure you’re real. And there’s nothing wrong with having my assistant over for dinner.”
She glanced around the office furtively. Most of the cubicle workers were out to lunch. She grazed a quick kiss on my cheek.
She was about to leave when her eyes lit up, as if the contact had given her an idea.
“Oh, and ask Ms. Temple if she’ll come. I’m curious to see what sort of dust that might kick up.” She smiled and rubbed her hands together like a cartoon villain.
I nodded in agreement.
“Good.” She went back to her office, clearly elated at the thought of catching her mother off guard.
Despite her invitation, the sting of pain was still there. Of all the reasons she gave for me to come to dinner, the one I wanted to hear most was absent.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
EDEN
FOR THE REST OF the afternoon, I tried not to think about Jack coming to the house. During my decade of dating, I had never brought anyone home. Jack, of course, wasn’t just anyone, but I wasn’t ready for him to meet my mother. I didn’t think I’d ever be ready for anyone I cared about to meet my mother.
Georgiana Rochester was an acquired taste. She was stiff and regimented, a member of the old guard through and through. She assiduously attended her philanthropy meetings, ran her home with an iron fist, and never broke from the ideals of being a genteel Southern belle. I’d rarely ever seen her without makeup, and only saw her cry once—at my father’s funeral.
Though Georgiana had grown up during the time of hippies and acid trips, she acted like she was straight out of the antebellum South. She wasn’t without warmth toward me, but she doled out any affection in efficiently measured spoonfuls, careful lest she overdo it somehow. Our relationship fractured when she discovered my pregnancy, and almost shattered completely when I refused to name the father. The only thing that had broken our impasse was Adele’s arrival. No one, not even Mother, could stand against the enchanting golden-haired child.
I arrived home late from work, still talking to a broker on one of the Belle Mar condos as I walked in the front door. I stopped in on Adele in the library before freshening up in my bedroom. Jack would arrive in no time, and dinner was in fifteen minutes. I found myself worrying over my hair and my makeup more than usual, though I couldn’t tell if I was doing it for Jack’s benefit or Mother’s. It was only then that I realized what a truly bad idea this whole thing was.
The doorbell rang.
I hurried down the stairs, but I had no hope of beating Adele. She slid into the foyer and swung the door inward. I suspected she sprinted from her spot in the library.
“Come in, Jack! Oh, and who’s this?”
“This is my friend, Ms. Temple.”
“Hi, Ms. Temple.”
Adele shook Maria’s hand before giving Jack a too-warm hug.
“Good to see you, too.” His smile, full and genuine, drew me to him.
I gave Jack the full up and down since he’d changed from his earlier attire. In black pants and a forest green button-up, he was a lady-killer. Maybe I’d get lucky and my mother would be said lady.
“Eden.” He said and gave me a nod.
“Good to see you, young lady.” Maria said. She looked particularly fetching in a heather colored sweater dress with tall brown boots. Her hair hung in loose waves, dark punctuated by the shock of white. She was a babe at any age.
Maria gave me a strong hug as I squeaked out, “Glad you both could make it.”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” Jack said. He took my hand in greeting once Maria released me. His palm was warm and sent little tingles up my arm. Looking into his eyes still made my stomach do the same flip it did the first moment I saw him.
“It looks just the same as I remember it, right down to this rug.” Maria inspected the Persian design beneath our feet.
I dropped Jack’s hand and turned to Maria. “I wanted to ask you about how you knew Georgian—”
“Maria?” My mother stood at the top of the stairs. She was tall and willowy, her back always straight and her chin in a permanent upward tilt. At least I’d thought it was permanent. Now, her mouth hung slightly open as she gaped at Maria.
I couldn’t hide the thrill of delight that shot through me to see her so taken aback. More than that, her reaction confirmed my suspicions about her long lost friendship with Maria.
Mother seemed to come back to herself and snapped her mouth shut before descending and greeting her guests. She wore a classic Jackie-O suit, intentionally too formal for our little dinner. Her hair was all white, a snowy bob that was beautiful in a way that only age could create. Her eyes lingered on Maria, who blushed a decidedly girlish shade of pale pink.
“It’s been too long, Georgiana.”
I could have sworn my mother’s eyes misted just the tiniest bit. “I thought it was you, but I couldn’t believe it for a moment. How long has it been?”
“Forty-two years.” Maria offered her hand.
When Mother reached out to take it, I saw her fingers trembling.
I exchanged a look with Jack. The women clasped hands for longer than socially acceptable, and far longer than Adele’s patience would endure. She snagged Jack’s arm and escorted him in gentlemanly fashion to the large dining room, all the while telling him what a hit her creative writing piece was. Mother, Maria, and I followed, though none of us said a word.
We took our seats around the grand old table that had room for twenty-four guests and could expand to accommodate quite a few more. The many chandeliers were cleaned every spring, each crystal taken down and washed by hand before being rehung. Paintings of the Rochester family lined the walls, each image seeking to outdo the last in terms of grandeur. I’d always thought the peacock and croquet portrait from 1923 was the most fabulous of them all, and Adele agreed, though Mother always referred to it as “gauche.”
Even with the paintings and glowing chandeliers, the room was immense—paneled walls and gleaming wood floors only heightened the sense of space. Mother always chose to use the most imposing room in the house to entertain visitors.
The ceiling was hand-painted over a century ago to mimic some of the most beautiful ceilings in Versailles. Sinners and saints, angels and devils, the passions, and the
gods were all at play above our heads.
Rosa came in from the kitchen and greeted everyone, though her eyes lingered on Maria for a few beats longer than normal. Mother took her place at the head of the table. Adele and I sat to her right, and across from us were Maria and Jack. Rosa dropped a kiss on Adele’s head before filling her plate for her.
“Rosa, I’m a grown woman. I can make my own plate.” Adele glanced at Jack and back to Rosa with a “you’re embarrassing me in front of my fantasy boyfriend” look.
Rosa ignored her protestations and scooped some more vegetables. “You’re still my baby.”
Once everyone’s plate was full of prime rib, grit cakes, and roast vegetables, we dug in. The clatter of knives and forks ruled the room for a short while.
“So, Jack, you’re my daughter’s assistant?” Mother began, as if it was her job. The wrinkles around her eyes scrunched up as she concentrated on him. Her eyes were the same green as both mine and Adele’s, but somehow beadier. Maybe I was imagining that last part.
“Oh, here we go,” Adele muttered and speared her asparagus.
“I just want to get to know more about our guest. Is that so terrible, Adele?” Mother asked.
She spoke in her regular tone, but something was off. Her eyes kept going back to Maria, drawn there. Maria, on the other hand, made no show of hiding her open interest in Georgiana. She seemed just as drawn, but not intent on fighting it.
Jack wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Yes ma’am. Her assistant. That’s right.”
“Where did you go to school?” Mother cut a precise piece of meat before delicately placing it in her mouth.
Jack glanced at me. “Alabama.”