by N. Michaels
Seeing my reaction, Mr. Miller inhales deeply and closes his eyes. When they open, they are cool, controlled and calm.
“We leave in twenty minutes.” Mr. Miller exhales.
I frown slightly, muttering, “Ok.”
Mr. Miller quickly turns around and walks out of my room, leaving me cold and frozen, staring into space. I snap out of it and close the door, wondering, what the hell just happened?
Mr. Miller had a chance to kiss me but he didn’t take it. Is he really not attracted to me? The thought hurts more than it should. I can’t see past his firm control. I shake my head with frustration and suddenly I realize a way to check if Mr. Miller is interested. A plan forms in my mind and I search my purse for a certain business card.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Patrick? This is Katherine Slav, Mr. Millers assistant.”
“Katherine! How are you? I’m glad you called.” Patrick’s voice turns smooth like honey.
“I’m great. I’m actually wondering if you could help me out. I’m going to SoFi tonight and I don’t have a date. Would you like to join me?”
“Tonight? Well, I have a meeting at eight. What time are you going?”
“Ten. I have a ticket for you, if you think you could make it.”
“Is Miller going to be there?”
“Well, yes. Mr. Miller has a date and I don’t want to be a third wheel. What do you say? Help a girl out?” I say sweetly.
“No problem. Keep that ticket safe. I’ll meet you at SoFi.” I hear Patrick’s smile through the phone and I breathe out, relieved.
“Thank you, Patrick. See you tonight.”
I hang up and for a moment, I think if this was the right thing to do.
Mr. Miller did say he doesn’t mix business and pleasure…
Well, I did say ‘I’ll think about it’. I’m not going to sit there all by myself, while Eliza is keeping him company. Also, I just want to see his reaction when he realizes he won’t be having an Ménage à trois type of evening. But the real reason I’m doing this, is to get his reaction when he sees me with Patrick, that way I will know for sure.
Oh God, I hope this isn’t an epic mistake.
I open the closet and go over my dresses. I finally settle on my gold, Hervé Léger dress and move on to pick shoes and accessories.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Mr. Ramirez is a short, dark skinned man. His eyes and hair are both black, and his smile is wide and genuinely warm. Next to him is a petite Asian woman, his lawyer, Kim Young. After our delicious lunch, I set up my Mac and start the presentation. Both men and Kim are looking at the screen with such focus and seriousness; I have to bite on the inside of my cheek not to giggle. They look like little children in the middle of a class. I think about the last time I was in class, and for some reason I think back to Mrs. Kovack’s ballet lessons. Her voice still echoes in my head… ‘Plié, Relevé, Plié, Relevé… Padebure!’ and her damn Jetés!
I begin to roll my eyes, but stop when I realize where I am. Eighteen years have passed and the woman’s commanding voice is still ringing volumes in my mind.
The presentation flies by. Kim goes over the contract and gives her approval to Mr. Ramirez. Both men sign the contract and shake hands before parting ways.
“You did a great job with the presentation.” Mr. Miller’s lips stretch into one of his core-melting smiles, and for the first time in what feels like forever, I feel my cheeks heating up into a blush.
“Thank you. Would you like me to go over the revenue reports for tomorrow’s meeting?” I smile and collect my Mac.
“No. I went over them last night. You can relax today.”
“Oh, ok. Would you like to go to the pool?” I smile mischievously.
I want to see you in your swim trunks. I want to see that mouthwatering body uncovered.
Mr. Miller grins a full ear to ear smile that make me want to ravage his mouth with deep, all consuming wet kiss. “I’d love to.”
“Great! ‘cause you know… I did bring my bathing suits.” I wink at him.
Mr. Miller’s eyebrows rise and his kissable lips are still smiling, but he says nothing more.
We head back to our suite to change, passing through the pool grounds to check how busy it is. Midway, we stop as we hear male voices calling Mr. Miller’s name. We turn around, looking for the source of the voices and focus on a group of men, sitting on dark brown wicker chairs, topped with heavy cream cushions. Behind them is a big cabana; the wooden frame is draped with white curtains and a scarlet red sheet with matching white and red throw pillows covers the mattress. I notice that there are two more cabanas, identical to that one, right next to it. Soft music is playing through hidden speakers into the pool domain, setting a laidback atmosphere. The short green grass and the tall, magnificent palm trees complete the luxurious feel of a tropical oasis. Behind the men are two women lying on the mattress, sunbathing I presume.
Mr. Miller lets out a small sigh, “I think I’ll have to get a rain-check on the pool. These are old associates I have not seen in a while.” He gives me an apologetic half-smile.
“Not a problem. I’ll just go ahead and change. I’ll meet you here in a few.”
Mr. Miller nods then walks away, towards the men. After changing into my Emilio Pucci string bikini and a flowing caftan, which is open in the middle, except two thin strings that I tie into a bow, I head out to the pool. The moment I step out of the suite, every person that lays eyes on me, stops doing whatever it is they where doing and just shamelessly stares at me.
I can’t blame them really, my long shapely legs that connect to my curvaceous hips and butt, followed by my flat taut stomach and narrow waist, leading up to my full breasts and my slender neck, and finally my face, with the most beautiful emerald eyes.
Or at least that’s what mama tells me…
I avoid looking into their eyes, not because it makes me feel uncomfortable, but because I don’t want to encourage them into conversing with me. It’s been this way since I turned fifteen and started maturing into a woman. I started getting noticed by people, but I’ve never enjoyed it… well, maybe in the beginning I did. As a young teenaged girl, I was happy guys were noticing me but quickly after, I realized those stares weren’t all that fond. Guys only wanted one thing and the girls hated me.
Sometimes, I secretly wished I were an ordinary brown haired, brown eyed girl.
The moment I step out of the building, I hear a sensual beat with a tantalizing melody flowing through the speakers. I use that to my advantage, knowing how I look when I walk, slowly swaying my hips in a hypnotizing rhythm as I make my way to the group of men that are lounging and drinking, but I only focus on one of them. Mr. Miller is watching at me with a look that can only be described as pure carnal, animalistic desire. His turquoise eyes glimmer in the sun, following me until I reach his side.
“Gentlemen, this is my executive assistant, Miss Katherine Slav.” Mr. Miller introduces me to each of them and the men, all as one, rise and show me that some men still remember their manners.
“It’s lovely to meet you all.” Smiling, I sit down and they follow.
“I must say Miss Slav, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.” drawls the man to my right, José Sanchez. He’s short, muscular and a serious flirt.
“Thank you, Mr. Sanchez, you are too kind.” I smile, looking at him through my Cateye CHANEL sunglasses.
“Eric, where did you find this beauty? I’m looking for an executive assistant myself. Maybe you could find me one just like her.” Mr. Jameson asks. His dark skin is the color of coffee.
I look over at Mr. Miller and find him gazing down at me. His eyes are igniting my blood, searing me with the intensity he’s staring at me with. A shadow of a smile touches his lips, as he simply says, “She found me.”
In unison, all eyes shift from Mr. Miller to me. My chin lifts a fraction and I nod, “Yes, I did… I needed a job.” I smile and shrug.
Mr. Miller’s lips c
urve into a full, lustful smirk while his turquoise eyes burn right through me. I feel the waves of fiery desire, crashing over me, stealing my breath.
God… the way he looks right now. It takes everything I got not to sit in his lap and kiss him senseless.
The men are eager to find out everything about me, but I give very little away. Yet, with every shift of my body on the chair, or my legs crossing, I notice something else in their eyes, something I’ve come to expect, heat and lust. Every one of them is stripping me bare with their hungry eyes, but the only one that actually affects me is Mr. Miller. The way his eyes travel over my body feels like an actual sensual caress over my skin and when I reach the limit of my restraint, I am shocked at how breathless I’ve become.
Must get away and cool down. Now.
“Well, if you don’t mind gentlemen, I’ll go in for a quick dip.”
Their faces light up and they all start speaking over each other, giving me the green light. Smiling, I rise and untie my caftan, my eyes never leaving Mr. Miller’s. I let the lightweight material slide off my bare shoulders and into to the chair and place my sunglasses on my discarded caftan. Mr. Miller’s lips part slightly and his eyes roam over my body, making me feel as if it’s his hands that glide over me. Finally, he looks into my eyes and now it’s my turn to smirk. His eyes are wild with desire and seeing him like this grounds me a little. I do affect him.
“Be back in a bit.” I say over my shoulder, as I walk towards the diving board.
I step on and dive in with my hands stretched over my head. My body’s taut, like a tight coil.
The moment I hit the water, I instantly feel better. My boiling blood cools down as the water caresses my skin. I stay underwater until I reach the other end of the pool. When I rise for air, I’m facing two strong legs, planted on the edge of the pool, right in front of me. I glance up and find Mr. Miller, looking down at me with an unreadable face. My eye flicker down to the large, white towel he’s holding then back to his guarded eyes.
“Need to talk to you for a moment.” Mr. Miller’s voice is deceivingly calm.
I take a deep breath, “Sure, let me climb out.” I smile.
I swim to the nearest ladder and slowly climb out, letting him get a good look of my dripping wet body. Mr. Miller’s face is smooth marble, except for his eyes, that lost their roughness and now burn with intense heat into mine. Mr. Miller opens the towel and I walk right into it. Pressing my chest is to his. The feel of his rock hard muscles against my soft breasts is so perfect and hedonic, I’m about to start panting with desire, but I can’t focus on that because Mr. Miller’s face is almost set into a frown. He steps back and I take the ends, wrapping the towel under my arms and around my body.
“In there.” Mr. Miller jerks his chin to the left.
I follow him inside the building, where he finds a small bathroom and locks the door behind us. I stand against the sink and face him. Mr. Miller turns to me and leans against the door, crossing his arms against his massive chest, causing his biceps to bulge.
Damn, that’s hot.
I swallow. We’re two feet away from each other.
“What you did back there was not professional. I am your boss and you are to remember that if you want to keep your job.” Mr. Miller’s face is hard as stone. His voice is low, but every word is like a knife to my heart that keeps twisting.
What the hell happened?
He was right there with me! Flirting, smirking that sinful smile of his, and practically stripped me down with his sex-hungry eyes. Confusion laced with hurt wash over me, and I blink a few times while my mind kicks into gear. I was never scolded for flirting with a man, especially by the same man I was flirting with!
But Mr. Miller’s not just a man. He’s my boss.
If he weren’t, he’d get a real piece of a very pissed off Katherine right about now. I hate players and that is exactly what he’s doing, messing with me, hot then cold, up and down. But since I need this job, I have to swallow my pride - which burns like a shot of arsenic - and apologize.
“Yes, Mr. Miller. I’m sorry. That won’t happen again.” I whisper, frowning slightly.
I feel the angry tears coming up, stinging my eyes. All the excitement has left my body and all I want to do is get away from him.
“Excuse me, I forgot my caftan and sunglasses.” my voice small and hoarse with unshed tears.
Mr. Miller is still blocking the door, looking down at me, but now he’s frowning.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so harsh… I just… I don’t know how not to react to you. I’ve never had this problem with my previous executive assistants.”
What? Ugh. God, this man is so puzzling. I don’t want your ‘Sorry’. I need you to stop playing games.
And then I hear it, echoing in my mind, ‘I’ve never had this problem…’ To him, I’m just a problem. I swallow through the lump in my throat, and find enough strength in myself to be polite.
“No need to apologize, Mr. Miller. You made it perfectly clear, when you said that you don’t mix business and pleasure together. I should have remembered that. Now if there is nothing else, I’d like to retrieve my caftan.” My mask slides perfectly into place, and I convince myself that I couldn’t care less who this man is. I will not shed one tear because of him.
Mr. Miller’s frown deepens, “I…” he takes a deep breath. “I hope you’ll be ready at nine. Our limo will be there to pick us up.” He breathes out.
“Nine…” I nod. “I won’t forget.”
Finally, Mr. Miller unlocks the door and holds it open for me.
Some gentleman he is…
I reach the chairs and find that the men have gone, but at least my sunglasses and caftan are still there. Dropping the towel, I start pulling the caftan on, but then I stop.
Mr. Miller said not to flirt with him, fine. But I’ll make sure that he will see what’s he’s missing, every damn moment.
I shrug the caftan off and just hold it in my hands. Sliding my sunglasses on, I walk past all the men and women who are looking at me with my head high. It’s only when I step inside the building that my tears begin to fall.
Damn it. Damn him.
I spend the rest of the day on the beach. Walking up and down the shore, letting the waves caress my feet. Thinking about how to keep my job, without losing my sanity and fall for the one man who drives me crazy and takes my breath away with just one look. I’m already walking on a fine line. I just need to do my best at work and keep my eyes off of him, which is an impossible task because this man is like no other man I’ve ever met. Women and even some men, turn to stare at him with amazement. He has an undeniable aura of godlike perfection, drawing attention to himself without making the slightest effort, leaving a trail of fire wherever he goes.
But I can’t lose this job. I have to let him go, even though he was never mine to begin with.
I stop to have an early dinner in a small seafood restaurant, right off the beach. Trying to eat in peace, ignoring all the eyes that rake over my body. At sunset, I start to head back. My stomach is in knots as I enter the suite.
Is he here?
I find the place quiet and empty. I glace at my watch, seven o’clock. I find my phone and make a quick call to mama.
“Katya?” She sounds happy.
“Hi, mama.” I smile.
“How’s Miami? How are you?”
“I’m all right, working hard believe it or not…” I chuckle. “Miami is lovely as ever at the end of May. How is everything by you? How’s papa?”
“Ohhh… I’m so glad to hear that you are well. We’re fine. Papa is busy at the hospital, but I’m so swamped with the upcoming Gala, I can barely notice he’s not here.”
Mama always buries herself with work when papa has back-to-back surgeries.
“I must say, Katya, I’m so proud of you! You are really serious about this aren’t you? Making your own path?”
My heart constricts to those sweet words that I’v
e been waiting to hear, and tears fill my eyes.
“Thank you mama, you have no idea what it means for me to hear that. If only papa would feel the same.” I say wistfully. “And yes, I am very serious this time. I’m actually kind of good at this.” I smile.
“And your boss, how is he treating you?”
Like a bi-polar asshole. But I don’t say that. Instead I say, “Great. He is very understanding and helps me out when I get lost.”
“Oh that’s great, moya sladkaya (my sweetie). Oh… wait one moment… oh honey, papa is on the other line, I’ll call you later ok?” mama sounds so cheerful it makes me smile.
“Sure mama, say hi from me.” I say and hang up.
She always lights up when papa shows her the slightest affection. I always wanted a relationship like theirs, with the exception that my guy is around more often, but somehow, I always end up with the wrong guy for me. Well, maybe I’ll give Patrick a shot. I shake my head and know that I’ll never be able to truly open up to him, not while Mr. Miller’s ‘request’ is engraved in my mind. I quit thinking about it and take a long bath then start getting ready for SoFi. An hour and a half later, I’m dressed and applying the last strokes of my lip-gloss. My eyes are rimmed with black eyeliner and winged smoky eye shadow that makes my eyes shine like jewels. My light copper hair is down, layers full of loose and soft curls that reach down to my narrow waist.
I place the two V.I.P tickets in my soft beige Dior Bijoux Clutch when my phone chirps up, notifying me I received a text message.
I unlock the screen; it’s from Mr. Miller:
I’m down at the lobby. Our Limo is here. Are you ready?
I am, but I don’t want to ride with him and Eliza and I still need to meet Patrick to give him his ticket, so I text Mr. Miller back:
Not yet. Go ahead without me, I’ll get a cab.
I pick up my favorite perfume and plant two small drops on either side of my neck, lightly rubbing the fragrant liquid into my skin with my right wrist. Then I bring my wrists together and rub them for a few moments. Then I receive another incoming text from Mr. Miller: