Everything's Better With Kimberly

by Lucy Eden

  She made me feel things that I’d never felt before and care about things that I never thought twice about. I thought she was out of my league on the plane but now I knew she was. She wanted this to end and she was probably right. It didn’t make it hurt any less but I was determined to hold her for as long as I could and as much as I could until she left me.

  Deep longing filled me as I gazed at our reflection. Kimberly’s eyes were closed, her face a mask of ecstasy with my face pressed against her neck, tasting her sweet skin and inhaling her intoxicating scent. Her soft waves bounced with every thrust. This was the picture I really wanted. This was how I wanted to remember her.

  We held hands on the way to Wolfe. Kimberly checked and rechecked the inventory in her tote. Of course, everything was there. She didn't seem anxious at all. She seemed excited and I was glad. One of us should be excited, because I was a fucking wreck. I kept imagining a giant clock over Kimberly's head counting down the hours until she had to leave.

  If that wasn’t stressful enough, I knew that woman who had almost cost me my job would be at Wolfe, presenting her own design. Losing the contract would be tough to swallow but losing it to the architect they let go to keep me would be a lot worse.

  “We’re here,” Francis called with a mouth full of food.

  “Thanks, Francis,” Kimberly answered as she climbed out of the SUV.

  “Thanks again for the sandwich, pretty lady.”

  “I know jerk chicken is your favorite.” She grinned before closing the door.

  Francis caught my eye in the rear view mirror and shook his head at me. I couldn't tell if he was disappointed in me or felt sorry for me. He would be picking Kimberly up at the Sterling at exactly six o’clock and driving her to the airport alone.

  fifteen

  Adam

  “Adam Price.” I felt my muscles tense when I recognized the voice. “I thought I'd see you here.” It was the woman who’d single handedly curbed my appetite for random hook ups and sleeping with the women I work with. The last time I heard her voice, the police were leading her out of my apartment in handcuffs.

  Kimberly went to chat with some members of Wolfe’s Barbados team while I sat alone in the reception area waiting to be called.

  “Renee,” I dragged my eyes up to face her. She looked good, or at least a hell of a lot better than she had the last time I saw her. Whatever she was doing was good for her and she looked like she’d been taking care of herself. “You’re looking well. Are you still at Bingham and Clark?”

  “Thank you and no, I’m at Hart Design Concepts now.” My face must have registered confusion, so she continued, “The real reason I left WP reached my bosses at Bingham, and I stopped getting assigned the better projects. So, the writing was on the wall. So much for confidentiality.” She smiled without mirth. “But Hart is boutique and I love the people there. I love my team and the work I’m doing, but I heard you got promoted. Congrats.” Her eyes traveled to Kimberly, most likely because my eyes were always drawn to Kimberly. “She’s pretty. Let me guess. She was assigned to WP.”

  I didn’t answer her.

  “If she’s lucky, you won’t sleep with her and dump her too; but knowing you, that probably already happened.” She quickly glanced around and lowered her voice before continuing, “The fucking, not the dumping. Not yet, of course. You still need her.”

  “It’s impossible to dump someone you were never in a relationship with. At least, that's what I tried to explain to you when you broke into my apartment.”

  Renee opened her mouth to reply but Kimberly appeared at her side at that moment.

  “Hi,” she beamed at Renee. “Kimberly Simmons.”

  “Hi, Renee Jacobs.”

  “Renee Jacobs of Hart?”

  Renee nodded and I could tell she was a little intimidated by Kimberly.

  “Your design has the lazy river in the shape of a W.”

  “Yeah,” Renee smiled. “That was actually my idea. You’re assigned to WP?”

  Kimberly nodded and smiled at me before returning her attention to Renee.

  “Watch out for this guy. He’s trouble. We used to work together.” Her emphasis on the word work made the blood drain from my face.

  “Thanks for the advice.” Kimberly shot me a quick knowing glance before smiling at Renee. “I’ll let you two catch up. They’ll be calling us soon, Mr. Price.” She walked away.

  I felt like someone injected me with ice water.

  “What the fuck, Renee?” I said between gritted teeth. “Are you happy now?”

  “If I possibly saved another woman from making the same mistake with you that I did, yes.” She spun on her heel and walked away.

  Kimberly had been watching our entire exchange and she smiled at me when I caught her eye. I made my way over to her.

  “About Renee…I can explain—”

  “Adam,” she smiled. “You don't owe me an explanation. What you did before or what you do after… whatever this is…is none of my business.” She crossed her arms which had the effect on me it usually did, and I was in no position to do anything about it. I couldn’t tell if she meant that, but I wanted it to be her business. “I'm a grown woman. I knew what I was getting myself into. If you want to talk about your past, maybe I'll listen, but not right now. Now, it's crunch time. We have to focus.” Her smiled widened. “ Did it ever occur to you that Renee was trying to get under your skin to throw you off your game right before the meeting?”

  No, the thought didn't occur to me, but now it made perfect sense. Renee definitely hated me that much, and if Kimberly was right about her design, she'd need all the help she could get.

  “Did I ever tell you how brilliant you are?” I clenched my fists to keep from running the backs of my fingers across her smooth perfect cheek.

  “That's why they pay me the big bucks,” she smiled. “And yes, you might have mentioned it once or twice.”

  I laughed and instantly relaxed.

  “You ready to do the damn thing?” she asked.

  I nodded. “I really wish I could kiss you right now.”

  “You could, but then I'd have to kill you and orange is not my color.”

  “Fair enough. Let’s do the damn thing.”

  The meeting started off great and it went uphill from there. For a brief, selfish moment I considered actually tanking the presentation so Kimberly and I definitely wouldn’t have to work together, but I couldn’t do that to her or any of the other people who had put their trust in me. WP was the only firm to take a chance on me after my father had me blacklisted. I hit the ground running and worked my ass off to prove I was worth the risk. This project was no exception.

  Kimberly definitely wasn’t blowing smoke up my ass —not that she ever would, another reason to love her — my design was head and shoulders above the others. Hart’s design with the pool in the shape of a W just came off desperate and needy. It screamed Pick me! Choose me! And had Renee written all over it. There was nothing new or innovative in any of the other designs. And as Kimberly said, everyone else put their sole focus on the luxury. But there was one problem and she called it on Tuesday.

  “The budget, Price,” Matthew Widnicki, Wolfe’s CEO, glared at me.

  He was a big guy, at least as tall as I was, blonde and built like a linebacker. He was seated next to his wife, Vittoria, who was the head of the real estate and hospitality division of Wolfe. She was an olive skinned beauty with long dark hair and fierce bright green eyes. She leafed through Kimberly’s report and nodded appreciatively.

  “You’re here because this is the kind of innovation we want for the next phase of our Caribbean expansion, but these numbers are fucking crazy.”

  I swallowed. I didn’t really have an argument for that. The budget was bigger for my design because my design was unparalleled. I knew it, Kimberly knew it and Matthew knew it, or I wouldn’t be standing in this conference room. Still, I had to say something. I glanced at Kimberly. She gave me the tiniest enco
uraging smile and her eyes glittered—speaking of unparalleled. I thought back to Tuesday.

  “Well, sir.” I cleared my throat. “Guests who book luxury suites usually aren’t saving every penny for months and carefully rationing vacation days. Giving those guests that do access to a luxury experience that they can afford will really set the resort apart from the others.”

  Kimberly’s words effortlessly tumbled from my lips making me wonder if I’d committed every word she’d ever spoken to me to memory. I glanced at her again. She was still smiling, but she narrowed her eyes and shook her head. Matthew leaned in to listen to his wife whispering in his ear. He whispered something back.

  “That’s a good point, but of all the projects here, yours would cost the most to build and take the longest to complete. We’re in the business of making money as quickly as —”

  “I’m interested in hearing what Kimberly thinks about this.” Vittoria spoke in a calm, clear and deeply accented voice. She cut off her husband mid-thought and he didn't seem to object to her interruption.

  Kimberly was seated with two other members of The Wolfe team. She stood and confidently walked to where I was standing next to the model and took the pointer from me, brushing the back of my hand with her fingertips. I moved away from her and found a place behind a tall podium hoping to mask the effect her forbidden touch had on me. Matthew had definitely noticed. He’d leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms and tapped his chin with his fist. His eyes narrowed slightly as he glanced between Kimberly and me.

  She started off by saying that Walt Disney never believed that he sold movies, toys or amusement park rides. He believed he sold dreams. She also mentioned the Disney Company’s current net worth which clearly landed with Matthew. She married the idea to the mission statement of the Wolfe Caribbean Expansion, something she must have had memorized. She then effortlessly transitioned into explaining how my resort could be built without sacrificing time or quality while earning revenue.

  “—while Will and Peking’s design will take longer to complete and cost more to build, it has the potential to become profitable two years before any of the other designs, without sacrificing guest experience.” She motioned to me. “And making money as quickly as possible.” She nodded at Matthew and Vittoria, who were eating out of the palm of her hand. She looked to me as if to return the pointer, but there was no way I was leaving that podium. I might have needed to have my mail forwarded. She glanced at the podium and I saw the ghost of a knowing smile flicker before she thanked the room and turned to walk back to her seat.

  “Miss Simmons,” Matthew spoke up, “How long have you worked for us?”

  “Nine months.”

  “Only nine months?” Vittoria said in disbelief, “And where were you before Wolfe?”

  “I had just completed my Master’s at Columbia. I was a summer intern before Cynthia hired me.”

  “So you’ve only worked for Cynthia Wu-Barton for six months.” Matthew spoke before nodding appreciatively. “As soon as you get a chance, send me a copy of your CV.”

  “Actually, I have a copy of it with me.” She pulled out two folders and placed them on the table in front of Matthew and Vittoria.

  “Impressive,” he whispered as he began flipping through the pages. He got his wife’s attention and pointed to something in Kimberly’s CV. Her eyes lit up and she addressed Kimberly in a language I couldn’t understand, but I could definitely make out the word Italiano.

  Then Kimberly smiled and responded.

  In Italian.

  She could fucking speak Italian.

  Kimberly and Vittoria were now having a spirited conversation that I couldn’t understand. At one point, Vittoria must have complimented her dress because she slid her hands into the black accented slits at her hips, indicating that the dress had pockets, which apparently thrilled Vittoria.

  I must have still been in shock because it took me a minute to realize that Matthew was staring at me. He apparently didn’t speak Italian so he used the opportunity to focus all of his attention on me while I was focusing all of my attention on Kimberly. We locked eyes and he tilted his head and raised his eyebrows at me. I gave him my best version of an innocent smile and tried to look anywhere except at the gorgeous woman in the sunshine yellow dress who never stopped surprising me. Matthew smiled and shook his head.

  When I was sure the awkward tension might actually suffocate me, a woman popped into the room to let Matthew and Vittoria know that their lunch reservation was in twenty-five minutes. Kimberly was wrong about one thing. Our meeting ran over by fifteen minutes. There were only five hours and forty-five minutes left until she had to go.

  Matthew dismissed the meeting, leaving only the four of us in the room, and Vittoria addressed Kimberly.

  “Kimberly, you must have lunch with us. We are going to Il Tempio. The food is fantastic. Do you have lunch plans?”

  Kimberly gave Vittoria a frozen smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes and shook her head.

  “Bene!” Vittoria called to the woman who made the announcement, “Make the reservation for four. Adam, you will join us, too. Yes?”

  “Yeah, Price,” Matthew called to me, “you don’t have any other plans, right?” He looked at me with the biggest shit-eating grin. He was being a ball buster. In fact, I did have plans. I was planning to bend Kimberly over the couch in the sitting room so she could tell me how big my dick was in Italian. My plans also involved watching one last movie, doing one last crossword puzzle, ordering one last overflowing cart of room service then talking to her until she drifted off while I held her in my arms.

  The ladies excused themselves to the restroom and resumed their conversation in Italian leaving Matthew and I alone in the conference room. He pushed away from the table and stood —he was tall, he had an inch or two on me— and walked over to where I’d become one with the podium.

  “Didn’t know she spoke Italian, did you?” He gave me a knowing grin and clapped me on the back. I cleared my throat.

  “No, sir. I wasn’t aware that Miss Simmons spoke—”

  He laughed. “Come on, Price. Don’t try to bullshit a bullshitter.”

  “Sir, I don’t what you’re implying, but Kimberly Simmons is the most professional—”

  “Oh, I don’t doubt it. That woman is going to be running her own division by the time she’s thirty. Sooner, if my wife has anything to do with it, and she usually does.” He laughed again. “I’m worried about you. I know that look. I’ve seen it before. I see it in the mirror every day. Don’t try to fight it. You won’t win. Does she feel the same way?”

  I didn’t meet his eye but I shrugged in response. He sighed and clapped my shoulder again.

  “Let’s go eat. Try thinking about baseball.”

  sixteen

  Kimberly

  “You were amazing today.”

  “I know,” I joked, “I was there.”

  Adam threw back his head and laughed.

  “Hey, who told you to stop?”

  He grinned at me and resumed the task of rubbing the soreness out of my feet which were resting in his lap.

  “You do realize we were only in that room because of your ‘innovation.’” I made air quotes. “So you, Mr. Price, are the amazing one.”

  “Can you just take the compliment, woman?”

  “Can you, man?”

  He tickled the soles of my feet and crawled on top of me on the couch. “Thank you, Miss Simmons.” He lowered himself onto me, pressing his lips to mine. “How much time do we have left?”

  “Two hours and thirty-seven minutes.”

  He sighed, rested his head on my chest and wrapped his arms around my waist.

  “I’m gonna miss you, Princess Kimberly.” He started planting kisses on neck.

  “I’m gonna miss you, too, but I’m still here.” I ran my fingers through his hair and gently scratched his scalp. He inched backwards on the couch and began to slide his hands under my skirt. “Adam, you’re
going to wrinkle my dress.”

  “That’s the plan.” He grinned at me, then his expression changed to one of confusion. “Um, where are your panties?”

  “Seriously?” I laughed. He really didn’t remember. “Check your suit pocket.” He reached over to the chair where he’d tossed his jacket when we got back from lunch with Matthew and Vittoria. He retrieved a small triangle of black lace and looked at me.

  “These were in there all day?”

  “Yes. You never gave them back to me.” I couldn’t stop giggling at his shocked expression.

  “And you weren’t wearing panties all day?”

  “Nope.”

  “So, while you were saying all that sexy shit about selling dreams and operating budgets, you weren’t wearing any panties?”

  “I’m afraid not.” I shook my head.

  “When you were speaking Italian?” He was pushing my dress up over my hips and spreading my thighs.

  I slowly shook my head again.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you could speak Italian?”

  “It never came up. I don’t meet people and say, ‘Hi, my name is Kimberly Simmons and I speak French, Italian, Spanish, and a little bit of Latin.’”

  Adam planted tiny kisses on my inner thighs.

  “Well, it would have been nice to not find out when there was nothing I could do about it.”

  My laugh was cut short by him swiping his tongue over my core and swirling it over my clit. I spasmed immediately.