Haven

by J D Worth

  “Points to the Queen for the chocolate. Make sure to tell her the next time you meet.”

  “She’ll be thrilled she has your approval.” We chuckle.

  “Admit it, caviar tastes like shit.”

  Tamping down a smile, I admit, “Yes, you are correct. Caviar is an acquired taste, one I’ve never mastered. I can’t get past the sensation of rolling the eggs around my mouth to release the flavor.” I shiver.

  “Damn, you’re supposed to prolong the experience to a level of torture?” He shakes off a grimace.

  “And caviar should be chilled.” I chuckle. “You experienced caviar in the worst possible way.”

  “Nope. Rolling slimy chilled fish eggs in my mouth ain’t gonna make it better.” He grins. I laugh until my stomach hurts. “I’ll stick with chocolate. I love how certain things melt against my tongue.” He pops another chocolate into his mouth. A fire strikes between my legs, as though he’s lit a match. The heat flares between us. My throat bobs as I stare with wonder at the beautiful man before me.

  Musing over his conduct, I take the time to swipe the gleaming pink lip-gloss from my lips. I can’t get over how Green Eyes remains unaffected by the grave warning Lilith gave the staff yesterday. She terrified a hardened Marine. The protocol for Aster employees is to maintain a professional front above all else. He’s wearing his scruff as if the rules don’t apply to him. The same goes for his scuffed up black boots in place of dress shoes. He hasn’t bothered to polish the boots to pass off as part of his uniform, let alone the wedding. Not only that, but he’s helping himself to the expensive gifts for the guests.

  “You’re sparkly. Must be from that unicorn you’re hiding in your suite.”

  The light catches the sparkling iridescent remnants of lip-gloss smeared on my hand. I wiggle my fingers around. “Yay, lucky me, more glitter.” I pucker my lips in amusement. “Can’t say anyone has ever described me as ‘sparkly’ before, but there was glitter in my suite from Georgina’s bachelorette party. And yes, there was a vibrating unicorn. Don’t ask. I’m still traumatized.” I tamp down a shudder. “You wouldn’t believe the ridiculous props they brought in to wreck my suite as part of their fun. Truly, no one but strippers can justify the use of glitter past the age of five.”

  “And no one older than five should play with unicorns either.” He lobs a boyish smile. “Quick.” He shoves the restroom door open, offering me an escape. My heartbeat spikes as I duck inside. He presses his back to the door and blows out a breath. “That was close.”

  “Which one is hunting me? Chaz or Lilith?” I hug my arms across my middle.

  Chuckling, he pats the wide vanity besides the sink. “Oh no. We wouldn’t want anyone to assume you’re a stripper with all the glitter, especially not your family. I am your personal handler, you said so yourself, so time for me to do my damn job.”

  “Right.” I work a smile between my lips. “And how do you propose we fix my sparkly predicament?” I wave my hands over my dress and heels. “You know the one my family threw me into? The dress is so tight that I can’t bend, let alone hop up on that counter in four-inch heels.”

  “Then I’ll do your bidding.” He plants his hands on my hips. I grip his bulking shoulders, and he lifts me with ease onto the marble vanity top. His smile stretches as he leans into me and catches my throat bobbing.

  “Auditioning for the Prince Charming role, huh? I see where this is going. You’re trying to steal my unicorn.”

  “Unicorns beware, I’m no prince…” His muscular neck lands close to my parted lips as he takes his time wetting a guest towel under a trickle of water. I capture his woodsy, leathery, manly scent. Heat surges through me, turning to dampness between my legs. He fills his lungs with a cavernous breath and rasps with a deep voice, “Damn, you smell so sweet.”

  Tingles spread across my already heated sex. Pressing my legs together as tight as I can, I ask, “I … what?” I cinch my fingers around the cool marble edge as he rings the towel out.

  He swings his nose to the base of my neck. “How the hell do you smell like vanilla all the time?”

  “My lotion. I may have a serious addiction to cupcakes. When I can’t go to my favorite bakery, I must improvise or I get the shakes.”

  He lifts my wrist to his nose and inhales. “And cherries?”

  “Oh yeah, the cherries.” I wiggle my stained fingers. “That was fun.”

  “In what world do you end up with pink fingertips?”

  “They’re neon magenta. Get it right. You know nothing about my magical kingdom.”

  “Never mind. Business first, then we play.”

  My lip slowly drop. “Play?” I stare into his bright eyes as mischief surfaces.

  He hums under his breath. “Boy, you’re tight.”

  I shift my posture upward and tug the material that only covers my upper thigh, trying to extend the fabric as far as possible. “I’m tight? I’m pretty sure this dress would qualify as stripper appropriate if we landed in a seedy bar.”

  “Seedy bar … yeah, you’re nothing but uptight. You have a little frosting left on your lips. I’m gonna take care of that for you so you can finally relax for longer than a damn New York minute.” He slides his large hand under my chin and glides the towel across my lips in delicate strokes. “Princess, why are you so jumpy all the time? You always seem to be rushing from one place to the next. Do you ever take the time to just be?”

  “I was on my way for a breather before you pulled a citizens’ arrest on me.”

  He flips his eyes upward for a split second. “To what? Step outside for a deep breath before returning to fraternize with business moguls for the evening.” He slides his palm over the back of my hand and takes his time trying to clean my stained fingers. His eyes trace my lips as if cementing the shape to memory. Wanting to melt like chocolate against his tongue, I have to take deeper breaths through my parted lips, producing a sexy pout in the process.

  “Why, yes. Sorry to disappoint.”

  He chuckles and tosses the towel aside. “No, that is not a breather, and you are anything but disappointing.”

  “Oh, I see. Now I must live up to my wild child moniker. Do you propose I ruin a golf cart or steal truffles? Or better yet, do you know of a local bakery I can knock over?”

  “No, I got something much better.” He uses his hand to wipe a huge smile from his face before pulling out a familiar confetti-filled squirt gun molded in the shaped of a pink penis from his suit jacket. He aims the gun towards the ceiling.

  “This is your idea of a breather?”

  “You know you wanna play with my toy. I’m more fun than your vibrating unicorn.” He drops the squirt gun in my palm.

  “Ah … no. Trashy is not strong enough of a word to describe Georgina’s bridesmaids. Please tell me you didn’t swipe the squirt gun as well.”

  “You could say I’m quite accomplished.” He smiles. “I swiped this from a housekeeping cart when a drunk punk was eyeing it.”

  “It’s more fun when you don’t have to clean up your own messes. The rich are well-versed in this fact.”

  “I need to grab a broom. Got it.” He rushes out of the room and returns with a broom and dustpan. Gazing at me, he parks both hands over the end of the broom and rests his chin. “What are you waiting for?”

  “You’re testing me again. Thanks, but I’ll to stick to vibrating unicorns.” I smirk, tossing the gun into the nearby trash. A cloud of thick glitter erupts upward and covers half of his shoulder, settling over his suit.

  Green Eyes chuckles as I gasp in shock and slide off the vanity. “I swear, I didn’t mean for that to happen.” Green Eyes drops his shoulders and begins to shake off the sparkling mess. I snatch the broom from his hand. “Here, let me clean up. Maybe you should go shower. Lilith cannot see you like this.” I press the broom to the floor and add pressure. The bristles flatten, so I drag the broom across the tiles in a straight line. I jab the handle ba
ck to turn around. He grabs the broom, stopping the end from jamming into his chest. I gasp again.

  “We’ll leave the cleaning to the professionals.”

  “Why? Are you getting a bonus?” I jerk the broom from his grip and gather a pile of glitter into the center of the room like a frantic lunatic. “All so you can set me up and show my grandmother how you caught me misbehaving, trashing yet another room here at the resort.”

  “Whoa there.” He touches the inside of my arm, gently tugging me back towards him.

  I jerk out of his grasp and keep sweeping. “I bet you can’t wait to share with my grandmother how I almost caused a riot in the lobby when I tried to carry my own bag.”

  His eyes crinkle. “You’re fuckin’ with me for giving you a hard time, right?”

  I freeze with the broom in hand as heat blooms across my cheeks. “To be honest, I am very embarrassed about the hissy fit I threw last night.”

  “What hissy fit? You were polite and cordial the whole time.”

  “I acted inappropriately and risked Tyrell’s employment while I was rushing and only thinking of myself. You had to step in and remove my bag because I was being so stubborn.”

  “No, you’re fuckin’ with me. You’re an Aster. Why aren’t you using your pouty lips to threaten me for giving you such a hard time?”

  “I assure you, I’m not fucking with you. Lilith is not someone you can play around with.”

  “But you do without her even knowing, right? I bet few can keep up with you.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “That means”—he parks his fingers under my chin while the rough skin of his thumb skims over my soft lips—“these sassy lips are more trouble than I thought.”

  “They are when I don’t know how to shut up.” Inhaling a gradual breath in hopes of gaining back my head, I catch a hint of chocolate instead. The heat wave crests between us, and I’m not the only one feeling the effects. His thumb pauses at the corner of my mouth. A deep hums slides out from the back of his throat as he drops his hand away. He digs out another truffle and offers the treat to me.

  “I’ll pass on the melted chocolate, but thank you again for the amusing Robin Hood moves. Stealing from the rich for the rich. That’s new. You should brush up on your fairy tales.”

  “Nope, my momma read ’em to me every night. I got ’em down pat.” His brows lift up as his eyes sharpen on me. “You know Cinderella was born wealthy. She had no idea how to use a broom either until her evil stepmother made her.”

  Frowning, I seem to be spreading the glitter, making more of a mess. “You can blame Disney for flooding the market with silly fantasies. They know how to sell the myth.”

  “The myth?”

  “The magic of love and all that bullshit.” I motion towards the reception. “What do you think is happening in there? People relish a good fable. Disney’s stock is on a steady climb. It’s very impressive how they went from a low fifteen to upwards of hundred and five dollars per share in the last several years. That’s the real magic, right? Especially when money is paper, coins are composites of metals, and numbers are abstract. Our whole system is an abstract economy that we all pretend is real.”

  “Can’t say I’ve seen a woman refuse chocolate.” Snatching the broom from me, he chuckles while cleaning up the mess and dumping the sparkling heap into the trash can. “Or discuss theoretical economics and game theory like a pro.”

  “Chocolate doesn’t do anything for me. Clearly, you haven’t been hanging out with the right women.”

  “Clearly not.” He shifts so that he towers over me. “Are you telling me you get off on numbers?”

  “What if I do?”

  “Then please, I wanna hear you discuss the stock market all night long.”

  “Is that so?”

  “No, you’re bullshitting me. Numbers are abstract.” He swoops close again, his lips hover above mine as he gazes into my eyes. “You’re hungry too. So hungry…” He hums under his breath. “That’s why you smell like vanilla. You need something to sink your teeth into.”

  My legs tremble under me while I glance over his muscular frame. Now is a good time to move on before Chaz or Lilith finds me. If not, I may remain tucked away in the bathroom, getting us both in trouble. “I do.”

  “Oh, yeah?” The corners of his mouth fix into a sexy smile. I melt a little more.

  “His name is Jack, and I’m late meeting him at the bar.”

  He jerks his head in surprise. “What a shame, but he can wait a little longer. We’re experiencing the most important moment of your life.”

  “And that would be discussing my lotion preferences, refusing your melted chocolate, or teaching me proper sweeping techniques?”

  He chuckles deep and throaty, stoking the heat between my legs again. “In this moment you decide what you really want outta life.”

  “Wow, I’m ecstatic that I ran into you. I know what I want, and I can’t wait any longer.”

  “Patience is a virtue, one I haven’t mastered.”

  “Well, good luck with that. It’s been a pleasure, Mr. …?” I offer my hand for a formal greeting. He raises one eyebrow up in a challenge. “I see. A man of thieving mystery.” I drop my hand, and he remains tight-lipped. “Please tell me that door down the hall is closest to the bar.” He gives me an affirmative nod. My body releases a sagging sigh, stepping away from him as I press towards the door.

  “I’ll be carting you back to your suite in no time.”

  I reply over my shoulder, “Nope, I’m spending the night with Jack. He’ll take good care of me. He always does. Go enjoy more chocolates while you still can.” I seem to float as the door closes behind me.

  Either my brain is going to mush with the soaring temperatures reaching the mid-nineties today, or I have to admit what I am experiencing is joy. I can’t win here. If I accept joy is a possibility, I open myself up to a mountain of disappointment the size of Everest. Recalling his eyes didn’t drop from my face during our conversation, I wish I’d been in a better mental state, one where I could’ve talked with him longer. A storm was brewing behind the green of his irises. An intense and beautiful storm that remains untouchable, haunting even, stealing my breath out from underneath me. I wanted to get a closer look and to stare at him in wonder. Instead, he worked his magic on me. I’ve known for a long time something fragile lies at the base of my core. The Asters have no room for weakness. All of my life I’ve tried protecting this shameful secret with everything I have. Green Eyes had no problem reaching inside and cracking my true dirty little secret wide open, exposing me as the fraud that I am.

  5

  On a tear through the lingering crowd, I set my sights upon the legendary pub tucked into the L-shape corner of the room. The wood originated from a historic ship that sailed from England and sank off New York Harbor. Several pieces of the hull made their way to a craftsman who churned out a massive hand-carved bar with Tiffany stained panels around the top and sides. The piece is grandiose from across the ballroom. When I reach the mammoth counter, I run my hand over the gold leafed decorative carved Celtic design, which is incredible up close. The bar sat undisturbed at an old Irish tavern in New York City for over a hundred years. When Warren came across the pub, he snatched the fixture for himself. He wanted a cigar club here like those back in the city so his clients could drink and smoke while discussing business.

  The mighty bar survived the modern remodel, not because Lilith is sentimental, rather this piece is an homage to the many deals Warren bartered down here. Like the bar, Warren was a larger-than-life legend who carved his own way to the top by wielding his golden touch. The bar is an Aster temple if we ever had one. Here, we worship by drinking away our sins. A heaviness settles over me that I can’t shake. Ready to repent, I saddle up.

  The first thing I do is scan for the familiar black label. That’s the problem with falling for someone like Jack; he doesn’t always atte
nd these fancy parties. If he does get the invite, he’s not sitting on the top tiers with the upper echelons of scotch. Only the finest spirits in the world make the lineup tonight. An older gentleman works one end where several brokers have parked themselves on stools, marinating their livers. I’ll have to ask for the special drink request, and he’ll likely card me.

  A sneeze from the other end of the bar makes me jump. Patting his irritated nose, the young bartender tucks a red bandana into his back pocket. Tattoos peek out from under his dress shirt, despite his best efforts of foundation to hide the colorful ink. Each time he leans forward, he swears when a few strands of his longer black hair sweeps into his face. I also notice a pristine bottle of Jack Daniels hidden on the lower counter in front of him. Drawing close to the quiet end, I snicker. The colorful bartender will also provide the perfect distraction. He eyes my dress and slides over a pink wine spritzer while smirking at me.