Private Engagement

by Adrienne Perry

  “This, Cinderella,” he said in a low rumble, “could get very, very interesting.” He gave her hair another tug, and then bent his head to suck deeply on her neck. She was sure it was going to leave a mark.

  A sudden knock at the door caused Emily to jump back, forgetting he still held her captive by her hair. He used his grasp to pull her back towards him, and Emily panicked not knowing what he had in mind. But all he did was take her silk scarf and wrap it strategically around her neck, while he called out in a loud voice, “Come in!” Then quietly, just to Emily, he whispered, “Such a boring use of such a lovely scarf. I can think of much more exciting ways this could be put to use.”

  Emily couldn’t respond to that, as the door was opening to reveal Charlotte coming back in. Charlotte took one look at the two on them, and smiled broadly. “Well, I see that you two have been gettin’ to know each other.” She reached into her purse and took out a tissue which she used to wipe Emily’s lip gloss off of Ethan’s mouth. “Emily, you might want to brush your hair a touch. It’s just a bit mussed. Mama and Mari are on their way back in, but I imagine the three of us are going to need to have another discussion soon.” Then Charlotte straightened Ethan’s tie while Emily scrambled to make herself presentable before the two older women walked back in.

  Chapter Ten

  The meeting wrapped up quickly after Vivienne and Mari returned. While Mari had given the three of them a shrewd look that suggested she knew something was up, and she was going to find out what it was, Vivienne seemed even less engaged in everything than she had before. Ethan and Charlotte acted as if nothing was amiss, and Charlotte snuggled up next to Ethan on the love seat. Despite knowing their engagement was a sham, her eyes narrowed at the sight of Ethan casually resting his hand on Charlotte’s knee.

  Charlotte bubbled on about how happy she was with the plans Emily had come up with, and she felt confident that Emily would do justice to the event. She reiterated, probably for Mari’s benefit, that she felt so safe with Emily and couldn’t imagine anyone else being involved with the planning process. Then, just to put the icing on the cake, mentioned that everything needed to be of the highest quality, no expense was too great if it meant getting the best. Emily could see the war going on behind Mari’s eyes, as she wanted to keep the glory for herself, even as she recognized that Emily would have to be the one to remain on point for the planning.

  Finally, everyone stood as the meeting ended. Charlotte hugged Emily warmly, and whispered to her that they’d talk soon. Somewhere private where they could really sort everything out. Vivienne also hugged Emily, though hers was limp and wan. She murmured vague thanks. Then Ethan was standing before her. He was nothing but formal and reserved now. No hint of the passionate embrace they’d just shared. He looked at her as if she was nothing more than a vague acquaintance.

  Though Emily knew it needed to be that way, she still felt disappointment. Couldn’t he give her some secret sign, just for her? However, he just held out his hand to shake, and it was wholly appropriate. Then, just as everyone was leaving, Ethan somehow maneuvered it so that he and Emily were the last two out of the office. He held her back just a step or two to allow the other three women to put several steps between them and Emily, then planted a sharp smack on her ass, before squeezing it more gently. He leaned toward her again and whispered, “I think you like it a little rough. A little bit of pain. Lucky for you, I like it that way too.” Then he was out the door, leaving Emily desperately aroused and aching for more.

  *****

  If Emily thought she’d have time to process what had just transpired, both learning about the true nature of Charlotte and Ethan’s engagement as well as her own response to Ethan himself, she was wrong. No sooner had Charlotte, Ethan and Vivienne said their goodbyes than Mari jumped in with the questions.

  Mari wasn’t nice, but she was smart, and she could sense that something was up. She might not know what the “something” was yet, but she wouldn’t stop digging until she found out. For now, she commanded Emily to join her in her office.

  Mari didn’t waste time. “Well, Emily, it seems that you’ve made quite an impression on our lovely bride. And her groom. He’s certainly very handsome, don’t you think? They make such a lovely couple. I can’t imagine anything happening that would jeopardize their union, or this wedding that we’re producing for them.” As a threat, it wasn’t subtle.

  Emily just nodded mutely.

  Mari continued, “This wedding is your highest profile event, Emily, and I hope you’re up to the challenge. This will be photographed and watched more than anything you’ve been involved with so far. I would hate to see you fail on this, Emily. If this is done correctly, you might actually make a name for yourself.” Mari left the second part of that sentence unsaid…the part that told Emily that if she didn’t pull this off, her career would be dead. That much Emily knew already. What she didn’t know, though, was how she was supposed to plan a sham wedding for an unengaged couple.

  As she stood there contemplating the thought, Mari broke into her thoughts sharply. “What are you doing just standing around, Emily? Hadn’t you better get started on this event? The wedding isn’t going to produce itself.”

  Thus dismissed, Emily quietly left the office to seek refuge in her own little semi-private cubby. It wasn’t much, but she needed some moments to collect herself and figure out her next step. She wasn’t to be so lucky. Perched on the edge of her desk, one hip resting cockily on the corner was Troy. He raised an eyebrow at Emily as she approached. He gave the best arched look, Emily thought to herself. She wished she could raise a single eyebrow that way. Such a look spoke volumes. Emily tried it out, giving Troy her best imitation of his gaze.

  Instantly, his demeanor changed from suspicious to concerned. “Oh em gee, Emily, are you okay, hon? Are you getting a migraine? You look awful!”

  “I’m fine, Troy,” Emily muttered. She guessed her look hadn’t had its intended effect, but then noticed the sly smile on Troy’s face.

  When he saw her noticing, he laughed. “Honey, you’ll never pull off the one-eyebrow raise,” he scolded her kindly.

  Emily scowled back at him. She might not be able to raise a single eyebrow, but she could telegraph a “fuck you” to someone, no problem.

  “Ouch,” he quipped. “Easy girl. I’m on your side, remember? I’m just letting you know not to try and pull off the Troy one-eye special. It makes you look like you stepped in dog poo and have a lazy eye. Not a good look on you, sweetie.”

  Emily wanted to continue being mad at him, but gave in to his silliness and finally grinned in return.

  “Now there is a much better look.” Troy hesitated a moment, then asked, “So, want to tell me about all the business going on with that hottie in the office? You know, the one who looks suspiciously like the man whose tongue was down your throat last Friday night? I can tell there’s something fishy happening.”

  Emily considered lying and telling Troy there was nothing going on, but knew he’d never accept that as truth. She sighed. “There is something, but I can’t talk about it just yet.”

  When he looked ready to press the issue, Emily repeated her plea. “Please, Troy, not yet. I don’t know enough yet to know what I can share.”

  He stared intently at her for a moment before relenting. “Okay, I’ll let it go. For now. But you can bet that our beloved boss lady is on your tail as well, and she won’t give up as easily as little ol’ me. You’re going to need back-up, so you’d better figure this out, and then let me know how I can help. Soon. Because you-know-who is going to use this to her best advantage. If she does that, it means nothing good is happening for you.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Emily had more questions than answers, but no way, at the moment, to satisfy her curiosity. She managed to bury herself in work for several hours, though she couldn’t focus to her normal degree. Part of her mind was wrapping itself around the idea that Charlotte and Ethan weren’t engaged; the other p
art fixed on the spark of arousal that flared in the pit of her stomach every time Emily pictured his trim physique and chiseled face. Every time she remembered the feeling of his lips on hers, and his palm on her ass.

  She gave up pretending she didn’t want him with a desire that rocketed well past any other she had felt. Instead, images of him flickered in her head: him naked in her bed, beckoning her towards him; his hard body and equally hard erection on full, glorious display, hers for the taking; her, naked and on all fours, while he poised behind her; the sharp crack of his hand on her ass and then the lingering warmth of his touch as he caressed the pain away; the smooth and confident movement of his hand slipping down her butt and closer to her clit, pausing to slide a finger deep inside of her on the way.

  She came out of those images shaky and turned on, and then had to put together fabrics and florals for the wedding of the man she had just fantasized about fucking. Even though the fantasies remained in her head, she still felt dirty and guilty, as if anyone walking by would take one look at her face and know her inner desires. Yet even the thrill of being caught in her fantasies just fueled her arousal and turned her on even more. The thrill of discovery always brought that out in her.

  Even though the sexual stimulation was almost too much for Emily to contain, she also feared Mari finding out…any of it. When this dread popped into her head, Emily’s mind would cycle back to the rest of the story, the details she had yet to discover. And even though Emily knew he wasn’t really FBI, images of Ethan as an agent were fucking hot, especially when fantasy Ethan restrained her with the hard metal of his handcuffs.

  Finally, when the worry and arousal became too much of a distraction, and her curiosity was nearly unbearable, Emily shot off a text to Charlotte asking if they could meet to “discuss things further”. Emily thought the wording was bland enough to look innocent, because she was now convinced that her every move was being watched and recorded, some geeky FBI tech observing everything she did.

  Note to self, no more readjusting my panties when I think I’m in private…I’ll have to learn to live with the thong wedgie. Although…it might be kind of fun to mess with whomever was watching. Give him something of a show. It would especially gratifying if the watcher was Ethan.

  Charlotte messaged her back in just a few minutes. The text read Amazed you made it so long before beggin for the deets! E and I can meet tonight at 8. My place.

  Ugh, Emily thought, glancing at the clock. It was only 4:00 pm. She still had hours of waiting ahead of her. Though Mari liked to keep strict business hours (as well as mandatory overtime), Emily decided that today she just didn’t care; she was just leaving right then. No explanation, no begging for permission. She was an adult, after all, and she wasn’t a middle schooler who still needed to ask if it was all right to go to the bathroom.

  So Emily boldly strode out of the offices in an unheard of unplanned early dismissal. Jesus, she thought, are we really so terrified of Mari and what she might do to us that we fear for our jobs just for walking out an hour early? That’s just weird and wrong. No more.

  Still, Emily breathed a sigh of relief when she walked past Mari’s office and saw her on the phone. Though Mari’s eyes narrowed as she took in Emily’s packed bag and “leaving-for-the-day” demeanor, she was stuck listening to the caller on the other end. Mari sent an angry looking hand motion to Emily that was very obviously a command to stay.

  Emily ignored the intent, sent Mari a jaunty wave good-bye, and kept on walking. She had just had enough…of this work environment, of this day, of the constant war between arousal and confusion and guilt that was happening in her stomach. She needed this small act of defiance, leaving work without explanation and without apology, to regain some control. Even as she realized that this was such a stupid thing to be rebellious about, she still reveled in the satisfaction of bucking the rules. The stunned and surprised looks on her colleagues’ faces increased her pleasure.

  Troy, always looking out for her, made a move as if to stop her on the way out. When he saw the determination on her face, he held his hands up in surrender and stepped aside to let her pass.

  *****

  Emily’s feeling of triumph lasted until she burst through the outer doors and the victory of escape faded as she realized that she still had hours before her meeting with Charlotte and Ethan. Without a plan, and with no destination, she started to walk. She knew that going home wasn’t an option, since there wasn’t enough there to distract her until eight. Instead, she walked the city, stopped for coffee, and imagined someone was tailing her the whole time. The UPS delivery van double-parked by the clothing boutique was really a surveillance truck, monitoring her movements. The non-descript Ford car that was idling in an alley wasn’t driven by a college student waiting for a friend to come down from the apartment building, it was really an undercover agent making sure she didn’t spill her secrets. She entertained herself by pretending to lose her tail, sometimes flashing a little bit of skin when she felt like it, and giggling to herself because she didn’t really think anyone was watching her.

  However, when she sat in the coffee shop facing the window, she imagined letting her legs fall open while sensuously crossing them, so that if someone was watching, he would see that she wasn’t wearing any panties. And when she “accidentally” let her blouse fall away from her chest when bending down, she used her arms to press her breasts together to show off her cleavage to its best advantage. Each time she pictured someone watching her, it wasn’t a faceless body. It was always Ethan.

  Somehow, finally, the time passed and it was time to go to Charlotte’s house. Though Emily knew that the address would take her to one of the poshest neighborhoods in the city, she still wasn’t prepared for the charm of the historic homes on Charlotte’s street. Though they were packed close together, all the houses had been renovated and reinvigorated to retain their vintage appeal while removing all the old-fashioned inconveniences of the original buildings. Emily could peek into some of the living areas as she walked down the darkening block, and saw fireplaces and intricate crown molding with Pottery Barn-esque furniture and décor.

  It was all charming, and when she reached Charlotte’s address, the loveliness continued. Flower boxes dripping with pink and white blooms adorned the front of the house, and the steps leading up to the heavy wood and glass door were brick-paved. The door itself even had a knocker that Emily couldn’t resist using even though there was also a more modern doorbell.

  Within seconds of the echo of the knocker through the door, it flew open, and Emily nearly swooned (such a Southern thing to do!) at the silhouette that appeared before her. Ethan was at the door, in a white button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows revealing muscular forearms. His shirt was untucked, and covered the top of a pair of faded jeans, tight in all the right places.

  Ethan’s eyes blazed into hers, and she felt his stare scorch her skin as his gaze traveled down her body. Emily forced herself to stand still, though she longed to cross her legs at his inspection. She still wasn’t wearing her panties, and she was aware of a pool of wetness gathering between her legs. First chance she got, she was going to the bathroom to put her underwear back on.

  Before either of them had a chance to speak, Charlotte came bouncing to the door. “Emily!” she cried happily. “Come in! Let me get you a glass of wine…you’re going to need it. Red or white?”

  Unhinged a bit by the juxtaposition of Ethan’s intensity with Charlotte’s effervescence, Emily stuttered, “Um, white’s good. Thanks.”

  As Charlotte headed to the kitchen to fetch the drink, Emily walked farther into the house and looked around at her surroundings. Partly she needed something to distract her from Ethan, and partly she was interested in seeing how Charlotte lived. Fake or not, she was still planning Charlotte’s wedding, and seeing a person’s personal space gave Emily incredible insights into someone’s personality and their likes and dislikes. She could gauge color palettes, theme for
music, and so many things by seeing someone’s home. Charlotte’s home was much like Charlotte herself: cultured, with a variety of books on the built-ins surrounding the fireplace, but also whimsical, as evidenced by the silly knick-knacks interspersed with the more elegant ones. For example, there was a cheap plastic Gumby figure riding a Pokey horse next to a delicate glass flower with impossibly slender sprigs of stems that Emily thought she might shatter just by looking at them.

  She sensed Ethan standing in the room behind her, but she refused to turn around and face him. Just his presence in the room took up too much of the air, made it hard to breathe. She wanted him, desperately, but he was off limits. There was still too much unknown for her to give in to her desire.

  Thankfully, Charlotte’s reappearance in the room broke the tension, and having a glass of wine in her hand gave Emily something to focus on other than Ethan. Charlotte glanced back and forth between the two of them before announcing, “Well, maybe I should leave for a few minutes and let you guys fuck and ease this sexual tension so we can get on with our talk.”

  Charlotte’s statement did many things, the best of which was startle a laugh out of both Emily and Ethan. Charlotte’s use of the word “fuck” was so uncharacteristic and unexpected from her Southern well-bred lady persona that Emily almost thought she’d misheard. In addition, Charlotte acknowledging the awkwardness and bringing it out into the open gave outlet to the simmering tension.

  Ethan raised an eyebrow at Charlotte (he could do it too…only it looked so much sexier on him than it did on Troy, at least in Emily’s mind). “Charlotte, I’d take more than a few minutes, but thanks for the offer.”

  Even though the comment was addressed to Charlotte, he eyed Emily while he said it. She blushed. Get ahold of yourself, she reprimanded herself. She needed a good comeback for this; she needed to be back in control. But words failed her, so she decided to jump right into the real reason they were all gathered.