So I brushed it off, wrapping my arms around his neck as I told him, “He’s family, Landon. I’m sure he’ll understand if you cancel.”
He looked down at me with a smile, wrapping his arms around my waist before giving me a quick kiss. I thought he was convinced until he replied, “Well I would, but I really need the money since we decided to, you know… get married.” My damn stomach. “Wedding isn’t gonna pay for itself, right?”
He had a point though I hated to admit it. My parents were hardworking people, but they certainly couldn’t afford the wedding I had in mind.
“Well hopefully with the extra money I’ll be bringing in, you’ll be able to quit the club for good.”
He wore a half-hearted smile as he said, “Yeah, I hope so too, babe. But don’t let me stop your shine. Why don’t you call some of your friends and go out on the town?” My face turned stank on its own.
“Friends? What are those?” I could hardly call any of the ladies I hung out with friends. They were more like associates; always down to go out and have a good time, but not really about anything substantial. Like… none of them were qualified to be the godmother of my future children.
But my personal opinion wasn’t enough to stop Landon from groaning, “Kennedy…”
“Fine. I’ll go out. You be safe at the club. And tell Uncle Lionel I said hello.”
&
Never again.
I should’ve known it wasn’t a good idea to bring my girl Chloe out fresh off of her break-up, but she was my last resort after my first two options flew out of the window thanks to the lack of a babysitter and being in between hair appointments.
“He’s such a piece of shit, Kenn! I mean, he knew I saw the girl climb out of the window and he still had the nerve to claim I was seeing shit. But I saw her ass, Kenn. I know I did.”
I took the longest sip of my cocktail as I tried to come up with some surely terrible reply. Part of the reason I couldn’t stand hanging out with the girls was because all they wanted to talk about was man drama. You’d hardly believe these girls were ever happy in their relationships with the way they acted, though with Chloe’s situation her unhappiness actually made sense.
“Maybe it was a burglar,” I tossed out before closing my lips over my straw.
“What?!”
This time I gave her the complete version. “Maybe it was a burglar you saw climbing out of the window.”
Chloe looked ready to slap me as she said, “Kennedy, you can not be serious right now. A burglar? You almost sound as bad as him!”
See what I mean?
Terrible.
I didn’t understand drama well enough to be able to contribute to the solution, especially when no one really wanted to hear a solution. They just wanted someone to cheer on their speculation.
So instead of providing a rebuttal, I started something fresh. “Well what are you gonna do about it?”
She took a sip of her Rum and Coke before she answered, “I’m gonna go over there, get my shit, and move into a hotel until he fesses up the truth.” It sounded all fine and dandy, but I knew how easily those type of plans usually flew out of the window. Especially with good, consistent dick on the line.
“And then what?”
“Then I’m gonna… I don’t know, Kennedy. What should I do?”
I thought long and hard, providing the only answer that came to mind. “I’m… not the one you should be asking. In fact, I’m probably the last person you should be asking.”
She brushed me off. “Oh that’s right. You have the perfect future husband, with the perfect ass engagement ring, and the perfect happily ever after. You wouldn’t know the struggle if it bopped you on the head.” My initial reaction was along the lines of “fuck you, jealous bitch”, but I held it in for the sake of the night. I was supposed to be celebrating, not engaging in an argument with the only “friend” I could get out of the house.
So instead I teased, “I’d probably recognize it then, but you know what? That’s beside the point. If you need a place to stay or whatever, you know you always have a couch at my crib.” I was really only offering it out of respect, not because I actually wanted her crazy ass staying in my apartment.
“Thanks, Kennedy. That’s why you’re my girl,” she said, clanking her glass against mine.
I was just getting ready to put my straw to my lips for another long drag when I heard, “Kennedy?”
I turned around and had to tilt my head back to find his eyes.
Mistake #1.
Bryson’s eyes were beautiful; so beautiful that I already knew what color handkerchiefs I wanted to use to complement his dressier ensembles.
Stop it, Kennedy!
“Mr. Harris! Hi!” I piped out nervously, standing to give him a handshake under Chloe’s watchful eye. I certainly didn’t want her to get the wrong impression.
“Kennedy, please. Bryson is more than fine,” he replied, totally ignoring my extended hand as he pulled me in for a quick hug.
Damn, he even feels good.
“I’m… I’m sorry. Hi, Bryson. I like your outfit, but we have to get this shoe situation under control. I mean, tennis shoes again? You’re better than that.” I couldn’t wait to have full reign over him.
I mean… his wardrobe choices.
“Damn, girl. You aren’t on the clock tonight,” he said with a laugh that rumbled all over my skin. I was embarrassed for more reasons than one, but mainly because of the way my body kept reacting to his every move.
I looked down at my own shoes as I pushed out, “Oh. Right. I’m sorry.”
Again.
“And quit being so sorry. You’re right. I didn’t have to wear tennis shoes. But I guess that’s what we’ll be paying you for, right?” He completed his sentence with a swipe down my bare arm that gave me tingles instantly.
Mistake #2.
I tried to focus on something other than my burning skin as I pushed out, “Right.”
“Hey, why don’t you and your friend come up to VIP with us? The sound is better and the drinks are free.”
Though I knew I probably should’ve stopped with the first long island, drinks on my boss’s tab didn’t sound like the worst idea in the world.
“We’ll come!”
Wait what?
I looked over to Chloe who was already standing up, smoothing out her form-fitting dress with her eyes glued on the guy behind Bryson.
Bryson looked between the two with a goofy little smirk before directing his attention back to me.
“Cool. Let’s roll then.”
Bryson
“You can’t possibly be this quiet all the time.”
I figured Kennedy was pretty reserved, but her bangin’ ass outfit completely contradicted that persona. The way her dress was fitting in all the right places gave me instant thoughts of being able to see what kind of body was hiding under it.
But her energy… that read more like a shy, Catholic school girl.
They did use to say those girls were the biggest freaks though…
I watched as she licked her lips nervously before she replied, “I’m sorry. I was just… listening to the music.”
“And will you quit with all that sorry talk? Don’t be sorry for doing what the hell you wanna do.” She nodded her head to confirm her understanding.
Instead of letting her go back into her silent groove, I asked, “You like this song?” I was familiar with the tune, but I didn’t know the words nor who it was by.
She pulled a few strands of hair behind her ear as she answered, “Yeah. It’s one of my favorites.”
“Well if it’s your favorite, shouldn’t you be dancing to it?”
She rolled her eyes and her little hint of an attitude actually surprised me. “I don’t dance, Bryson. I vibe, I groove, I chill, but I don’t dance.”
Yeah right.
I’d been around women enough to know that they all danced, or at least tried to dance. It just took the right person to bring
it out of them.
“Kennedy, you dance. I know you do no matter how hard you’re frontin’ about it. So come on, let’s dance.”
I tried to pull her up off of the couch, but she remained glued as she said, “Bryson, I’m serious. I don’t dance. I... can’t dance.”
“Well I’ll teach you then. Now come on.”
She sighed once she realized I wasn’t giving up. I drug her out to the dance floor before flipping her around and pulling her long frame against mine. She followed my lead as I let my hands wrap around her waist and began grinding against her ass. She leaned further into me, adding more friction as we found our groove to the beat. And before I knew it, she was actually keeping up.
“I thought you said you couldn’t dance?”
She visibly sighed, her shoulders dropping as she said, “I shouldn’t be. I’m... I’m engaged.”
I just know I didn’t hear that right…
I looked down to her hand and didn’t see a ring, so I figured I must’ve been trippin’.
And besides, she was here with me; dancing with me. So whatever she had going on must not have been much.
&
“Damn. You’re incredible, Bryson.”
Yeah, yeah, yeah, tell me somethin’ new.
I couldn’t believe I had ended up in bed with the girl, but I knew it didn’t take much which meant I’d be cutting her off just as quickly as I had acquired her.
“You were good too, Hazel. Take your time gettin’ up, love. I’ll be back in a minute.”
She blushed as she cuddled back into the sheets, more than likely getting ready to doze off. I’d let her get her rest for now, but in my head I knew I’d be kicking her to the curb once the sun came up.
It was nothing personal. I just didn’t want her to get the wrong idea that I was actually interested in a relationship with her. I mean, if she got with me on the first night, more than likely it wasn’t her first time.
I left her in the room and headed to the kitchen to get some grub. I often kept music playing low through my house, but I could clearly hear that pesky little tune from the club. The song Kennedy loved enough to let her guard down and dance with me to.
Damn, she’s so adorable.
I wasn’t use to being attracted to the quiet types, so it honestly caught me off-guard. But I could tell there was a lot more to her than what she led on. She just needed somebody like me to bring it out of her.
I could hardly wait for the opportunity.
I grabbed a granola bar and a banana before I went to my home office and pulled up her contract. It was supposed to be the final draft, ready for sending first thing in the morning, but I knew I needed to add one more thing.
The one thing I forgot to include when I hired Madeline.
I had a strong feeling Kennedy would be tempting me to break my own rules sooner than later. The least I could do was make sure my ass was covered.
Kennedy
When I checked my email first thing in the morning, I just knew my eyes had to be playing tricks on me. I hadn’t put my contacts in yet, so maybe my lack of complete 20/20 vision was causing an issue because there was no way I had read what I thought I read in the contract Bryson sent me from his personal email even though I was expecting it from Leslie.
I mean, he couldn’t be serious, right?
Any consensual sex between Mr. Bryson Harris and Ms. Kennedy Wilson may be deemed grounds for immediate termination unless specified beforehand.
I read it a few times over to make sure I didn’t miss the, “Just kidding”. But sure enough, that was nowhere to be found.
What kind of cocky son-of-a-bitch would even think about putting something like that in an employee contract?
Only someone like Bryson who could handpick his women - employees included - to meet his every need. Considering he was a NBA champion, Rookie of the Year, GQ cover kind of guy, I really shouldn’t have been surprised. I guess it was just the fact that my name was actually listed in print like I would even think about doing such a thing that bothered me.
Not that Bryson couldn’t get it under other circumstances.
He definitely, definitely could.
That beard, those mystical eyes, the tattoos…
I bit my bottom lip a little harder to wake me from the daydream.
This was my job, my first opportunity to prove myself, and I refused to risk it all before it could even begin.
As if he could sense my frustration through the wavelengths of the earth, I received a text.
Did you get your contract? -B$
BS is right…
I climbed out of bed, trying not to wake Landon as I headed to the living room to reply.
Kennedy: I did.
Any questions? -B$
In all honesty, nothing had stood out besides that one little thing. In fact, Bryson had set terms that were better than I could’ve imagined. I thought about just saying no and pretending like I hadn’t even seen the part that was lingering in my head. But that would’ve been me punking out as always, so I replied with my true thoughts.
Kennedy: Umm… what’s up with this whole consensual sex thing? Isn’t that unethical?
I waited a few long, anxious moments before multiple texts came through.
No. Unethical is trying to sue for doing something we both enjoyed… thoroughly. -B$
It’s just a protection, that’s all. -B$
No pun intended. ;) -B$
Crap.
Why had I even said anything?
After the night before, I knew it didn’t take much for me to get out of character when it came to Bryson. So how I had managed to set myself up for failure even though he wasn’t physically present was beyond me.
If I was single, I probably would’ve came up with something slick to say back. Something that hinted at, “I’m feeling you too.” But that was hardly the case, so I texted back like a regular employee.
Kennedy: Understood.
I was just getting ready to go back to bed and check on Landon until my phone vibrated in my hand again.
Great. See you later. ;) -B$
I stopped in the middle of the hallway, immediately flashing over to his email to make sure I hadn’t missed any plans or meetings. When I saw there was nothing, and couldn’t think of anything he or Leslie had mentioned off the top of my head, I replied back.
Kennedy: Later? What’s later?
His response came quick.
I’m taking you to dinner to celebrate you accepting the position. -B$
No way.
There was no way I could let Bryson - my boss, be damned - take me to dinner. Dinner was way too intimate of a setting to even think about having to survive a whole one alone with him.
Kennedy: You really don’t have to do that, Bryson.
I want to. -B$
I sighed, trying to come up with a way out. It wasn’t really a good look to skip out on getting to know my boss which would more than likely give me better insight on his personal style.
But dinner?
Kennedy: Can we do lunch instead?
At least with lunch, it would be light outside. And since Landon had plans to grade papers all afternoon, going to lunch with my boss wouldn’t sound too sketchy. In fact, he’d probably be proud of me for even mentioning willingly doing something social.
That works too. I’ll send a car around 1. Wear something casual. -B$
Bryson
I was desperate to see where her head was at.
Her texts weren’t giving enough for me to be able to tell if she was picking up on my little hints; if she was feeling the vibe that I felt when I was around her. It hardly seemed possible that I had only met her yesterday, but I suppose that helped explain why I couldn’t get her off of my mind.
Kennedy was gorgeous.
She knew that and I knew that, so of course I wanted to fuck her.
Well… actually I take that back.
Kennedy wasn’t the type of girl I could just hav
e sex with and toss to the side. Kennedy was the type of girl I wanted to wine and dine, come up with some corny ass jokes to tell her just to see her smile. The type of girl I wanted sitting courtside at my games before I brought her home for some slow, long love-making to celebrate. She deserved the bubble bath, strawberries, and champagne treatment. Not the quickie in the backseat kind. And from what I could tell about her, she wasn’t exactly the type to get down like that anyway. I mean, even the fact that she wanted to do lunch instead of dinner showed me she was willing to duck and dodge the pleasure to focus on the business. But I had something in store to test her willpower.
I was sure she wasn’t expecting to have lunch at my crib, but I figured it was a good place to start getting to know each other.
For the job that is.
The doorbell rang signaling her arrival and I licked my lips excited to see what her reaction to me was gonna be. I pulled the door open and got an even better reaction than I could’ve imagined. Her eyes slowly scanned my exposed body, right down to the towel wrapped around my waist.
“Up here, Kennedy,” I teased.
Her mocha brown skin turned rosy as she put her hands over her face. “Oh. Oh! I’m… wow. Can we start over?”
I laughed as I pulled her inside by the hand, shutting the door behind us. Then I gave her the same onceover she had already given me. I quickly learned that her idea of dressing casual was totally different than anything I could’ve thought of. She made her skin-tight jeans and thigh-high boots, with a sequined blazer thrown over a plain tee look fresh out of someone’s print Ad. But considering her occupation, I suppose I should’ve been more specific.
“Well, welcome to my house.”
She looked straight up at my vaulted ceilings as she asked, “You live in this humongous house all by yourself?”
I shrugged. “For now; yeah. Just waiting for the right woman to turn it into a home I guess.”
She flashed her eyes at me like I had said something crazy, but it was the God honest truth regardless of how it may have sounded to her. Having whatever girl I wanted, when I wanted her was getting old. And after falling out with the girl I saw as the closest thing to “right”, a replacement sounded better than ever.
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