“Why do you ask? This doesn’t seem like a hostile environment at all. The young lady who greeted me downstairs was very agreeable.”
“Oh, she is very agreeable. I’m referring to my sister, and well, society.” He scratched the back of his neck and shrugged his shoulders as if explaining where air came from. It just was there. It existed.
“Society.” I repeated.
He leaned his arms on his legs and he was just this much closer to me. I had to hold my breath he was so good looking. Last night, he seemed like a guy I’d drink tequila with or grab a beer. Today, I almost found myself uncomfortable in his presence. He probably knew vintages of French Bordeaux wine from 1940s by heart.
I’d never been in the presence of a more handsome man.
Fuck me…
I mean, I wouldn’t mind that. I really wouldn’t mind that at all. I just—breathe, Kate!
“What do you have going on tonight?”
“Tonight?”
“And well, practically every other night the rest of this month.”
“Month?”
“English is your first language, right? Kidding.” He held both of his hands up.
I shot him a look of oh-don’t-you-dare-go-there. I may have olive skin, but I'm fluent in English as the next American.
“Kidding…kidding. Easy, tiger. Look,”
Oh I can be a tiger alright. Just test me.
He looked over my outfit as if he were an inspector for the Navy. I suddenly felt as small as an ant. When was my official interview going to begin, and what on earth would I be doing? I wanted to speak again, but I was curious as to where he would take the conversation. Why did he ask what I was doing at night? And why is he taking so damn long to finish a damn sentence! Ugh! The South.
“I don’t know if you saw this or not, but over there on that wall is my spread for Charleston Best Dressed over the past few years.” He said it with the proudness of a parent bragging on their golden child. That’s just great.
I rolled my eye, and he didn’t miss a beat.
“Which is quite an accomplishment, here in the very well dressed southern part of America.”
That drawl was sexy, though. Ego or no ego, I’d listen to that smooth, syrupy lingo any day. Now if only he would be my boss…I wouldn’t get anything done. I shook my head, thinking about being around him all day and how I wouldn’t mind staring at the face. I’d do anything he’d ask me to do with the most perfect attitude. I’d actually dream about coming to work!
“You don’t think it’s an accomplishment?”
“What? No! I mean, yes! That’s not why I was shaking my head.”
I was shaking my head at my nonsensical day dreams of following you around!
“Then why were you shaking your head?”
“I don’t know. Sorry.”
“You don’t know, sorry? Kate? Honesty’s best policy here.”
“It…was…nothing. My own thoughts.”
“Are they in need of some hushing?”
By you?
He stood up and walked closer to me. He was inches in front of me, and I swear, I melted in my heels. He finally took the adjacent seat and crossed his legs as if revealing something telling.
“Because this job requires one to be, well, stress-free during the day, because at night, well, it’s quite a scene.”
Fucking shit. I knew it.
This was an escort business? Hell no. Hell, hell, hell, no.
“Oh…my God. I knew it. I…uh, listen. I don’t…do this. Thank you.” I reached for my purse resting on the ground and attempted to stand up to leave. I’d just have to take the bus back home and get a job somewhere. Anywhere but Brooklyn. I can’t go back there.
“Wait.”
That touch.
The grip of his hand across my shoulder as he met my gaze. It was warm and soft and persuasive. I shuttered and wanted it to linger up my arm. I wanted him to touch me more. I sighed, feeling absolutely ridiculous, and stared at the ceiling.
“Hear me out. You didn’t let me explain.”
“I think I very well understand. I think.”
“And what is it you think you understand?”
Why does his talking make me want to tell him anything just to spend one more second longer with him, even if he did run the biggest sex ring in the world?
“You…run…”
“I run?…”
“This company?”
“An escort business.”
We both spoke at the same time. His look of confusion held more weight in this staring contest.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
He looked like I turned into a duck and was quacking.
“An escort business?” He asked.
“Yes?”
“No! Is that what you’re looking for?” he asked very quickly.
“God no!”
“I’m just needing some assistance at night. It’s the gala season. Socialite season. My twin sister is a famous socialite here in town, and now, well, in all of America. She’s on that reality show Charleston’s Elite. My family’s well known. I was trying to show you my photo on the wall about being best dressed, to then tie in this colorful rumor going around that I’m gay.”
“Gay?”
“Yes.” He sighed and ran a finger though his thick locks of hair, perfectly styled up high.
“Okay, so what?”
“You don’t understand the ramifications of this or who or what’s at stake.”
“Who cares what people think? Fuck them.”
He winced at the words. “You’re going to have to stop saying that word. It’s bad, Kate. It can get real bad.”
There was more to his suggestion than proper etiquette, and I wanted to tempt him to prove to me what on earth he meant. How bad?
“I just need a dedicated consistent date throughout this season.”
“Season?”
“Yes. I think I just addressed that. Look, do you want to disclose any medical information I should know about should you take this job? Hearing loss?”
“What?”
“I’m being honest here. I don’t laugh at those things. I’m just wanting to make sure you’re understanding me.”
“No!”
“You don’t understand me?”
“I do understand you. I don’t have a hearing problem! I’m hearing everything you’re saying to me right now perfectly fucking clearly.” I smiled inside making him so uncomfortable with that word. “You’re just making me very nervous, if I am to be completely honest with you.”
“Well, then, how may I make you more comfortable in my presence?”
I’d never be. Never. He was just that beautiful.
Atticus
“Please, please come back and sit down, hear me out is all I ask. I really need your help. I think you would do well at this job, and I’d compensate you greatly."
I grabbed a pencil off my desk and took a seat at my desk. This seemed to make her feel a bit more comfortable.
“Do you get overwhelmed easily?”
“No. I can handle a lot.”
“Can you, now?” How much could she handle? She has no idea of the dirty things I’m imagining in my mind to see how much heat she could handle before melting. That little tight body of hers was begging for a release and a dick deep inside her. Her look told it well. But I shook my head and tisked my tongue. I’d have to keep this professional. No sex. Otherwise, feelings could get complicated, and I needed her to be on her best A-game for the press. But flirtation may make us look like a real couple in pictures and events...
“Do you know anything about me? My family?” I spun the pencil around in my fingers.
“Um, no.” She said expressively and all the body language to match the little attitude she wore at the notion of knowing my family.
“And are you always filled with such…expressivity?”
“Yes!”
Dear Lord, I bet her moans are so loud even when she’s barely climaxing. God, sh
e was torture. I snapped my pencil in my fingers accidentally.
“Is everything alright?”
“Oh, sorry, I snap pencils all the time. It keeps my fingers strong.”
“Your fingers that strong?”
“For licking…picking.” I quickly corrected myself.
“Oh.”
I swear, her cheeks flushed a bit with pink and the thought of licking her to pleasure caused my cock to stiffen.
“So you don’t have a girlfriend?” She quickly asked to cover her embarrassment, and I suddenly feel my stiffness building. I wouldn’t be able to get up from my desk now. I leaned over my desk, trying to think of anything fast to get rid of it.
“Well, that’s rather forward of you. And do you have a boyfriend, Miss Longoria, that may interfere with this job?”
“I let that pass earlier, but why are you calling me that?”
“Because you look just like her.”
“Um, thank you?” I really meant it. She really was gorgeous, and this sass of her was really turning me on.
“Anyway, I don’t, right now.”
“Well good. All you have to do is do a little googling of my name, and you’ll come across my sister’s latest antics in the press. Which makes me always in the press, even though I do not care for that kind of attention. But in order to do what I do well, I need these rumors to subside, and I need to be a strong pillar in the Charleston community for the sake of my granddaddy’s name. I just need a strong player with me in this game of public appearances. And should you do, so I’d happily and handsomely reward you each night.”
“Each night?” her voice was husky, and I swear I caught a scent of her arousal.
“After each appearance. You do not need any new skills just to be on my arm. And you do not need to pay for anything. I’ll have makeup and hair for you in addition to a stylist, starting tonight.”
“Tonight?”
“Hot date you’re missing, Miss Longoria?”
“No. I mean, maybe.” She was on to my game.
“Shall a thousand dollars a night do it for you, then?”
She looked stunned. Then fumbled with her fingers.
“Are you sure you’re not looking for sex?”
“The question is, are you? You’re the one that’s been practically on my rod all day, teasing me with that four-letter word.”
Her face blushed to shades of strawberries, and teasing her only added to my hard-on. There would be no getting up now.
I reached for my phone and dialed Stacey down at the spa. “Hi Stacey. I’m sending you my date for tonight, Kate. I’m putting an order in for the works. I trust you will make her feel absolutely at home here. Excellent.”
Well, if we have a deal then, you are expected at the spa.” I looked down at the iPhone box in her hand.
“Oh, you can leave that, and I’ll get that set up for you. If you could just write down your number for me.”
“Are you asking me for my number?” She flirted with me.
“I am asking you for your number.”
She walked over like a temptress and bent over my desk, writing it down painstakingly slowly. I don't know whether or not she was aware of her seductive mannerisms. There would be no pretending of my fondness of her. Now, I’d just need to get Atticus Junior well versed on behaving and pretending.
Chapter Four
Kate
I held my breath as the modern doors whisked open, revealing a marbled luxurious palace that I imagined belonged in Dubai. In fact, movie scenes in luxurious middle eastern palaces flashed through my mind, taking me back to those same enchanted feelings.
That’s how I traveled in life: through film. And that’s how I dreamt, too.
I thought this entire building, this skyscraper, smelled fresh; well, this was another level.
Beautiful, relaxing music enveloped my senses, and I felt like I was being transported into another realm; a fantasy one, for sure.
A beautiful brunette sat at a glass mirrored desk surrounded by dozens of roses in crystal vases. A stone waterfall behind her cascaded down, trickling, making me feel completely relaxed.
Okay, okay…maybe it wasn’t so bad knowing this guy, bumping into that stranger last night. If it meant spending the day here, well, why not. Easiest grand I’d ever make in my life!
My face beamed at the receptionist, who was as calm and collected as a fancy indoor Himalayan cat.
“Hello, may I help you?” Her voice was light and welcoming.
“Yes, you may. Thank you. I’m here, with, um, Atticus Branch.” My tone sounded nervous, uncertain. She tilted her chin, studying me. “I mean, I’m his date for tonight’s gala. Event. I mean, actually.” I took a deep breath, calming my nerves. So much had happened so quickly. I know I sounded either drunk from not making sense or completely nervous.
“I was sent here for some spa treatments.”
“Kate?”
“Yes?”
“Do follow me, I’ll get you all set up.”
“Thank you.” I replied very dreamily.
We passed beautiful stone halls with gold frames, grand baroque mirrors, and more elaborate waterfalls.
“Would you like anything to drink? Some champagne? Coffee? Sparkling water? Tea? We have you set up for a deep tissue massage, exfoliation, mud bath, and then a 24-carat gold facial following an electronic facial, an eye brow threading, mani, pedi, then hair and makeup.”
My heart stopped. I’d never even been to a spa before. I had no idea what to expect. This, this was something else. This was luxury, paradise.
“Oh, and I must warn you. Today there is some special filming going on for that reality show Charleston’s Elite. You’ve heard of it?”
I shook my head . “I’m not from here.”
“Well, that’s alright. If you don’t wish to be featured in any background shots, just fill out this form here, and if anything’s caught on camera, you will be blurred you out.”
Great.
She led me to a room filled with satin benches next to white lockers. “Here are your robe and slippers. Simply undress and leave your things in here. And Savannah will be right with you shortly to take you to you first appointment. I’ll have the beverage of your choice waiting for you in the heated lounge chairs by the fountain, right around this corner.”
My face beamed as I said "thank you." Feeling like the luckiest girl in the world, I quickly undressed and happily wrapped myself with the most delicious-feeling robe in the world. Feeling like a million dollars, I sipped my champagne, awaiting my first beauty treatment.
Hours later, and after falling asleep from a nap, the nail stylist showed me a color of pale pink for my nails. Feeling tipsy and happy, I admitted to her, “I’m a pedicure virgin. I’m really ticklish too. I hope I don’t annoy you to pieces.” Her smile was kind, and I went back to sipping champagne and reading trashy magazines.
While being led to my private shower and bathroom where hair and make up would later meet me, a chilling statement stopped me in my tracks.
“Oh my word, did you hear that poor puppy? She says she’s with Atticus? She’s never even had a pedicure before. Where on earth did he drag it from?”
It?
An articulate southern belle’s voice made me freeze in my tracks. It was nerve-wracking, being talked about like that as another voice joined her giggling. I gazed around the room in search for these gossipers.
“If she’s never had a pedicure before, then how on earth is she to be on Atticus’ arm?”
“Maybe she’s delusional. Who knows? You know women will do anything these days to be famous.”
“Or to have a free spa day.”
Laughter floated off the walls, and my heart caught in my throat. Already, gossipers. I shook my head, escaping the memories that jumped out at me from elementary school, and all the mean girls' and gossip. I promised myself not to go there.
Get it together, girl. Seriously. This is a job. A means to an end. And a
t the end of all of this is a successful cupcake business. Keep your eye on the goal.
Kate
Feeling like a million bucks makes you stand like a million bucks. Being groomed, massaged, and having every detail of your body perfectly attended to, well, it makes you walk in easy stride.
Yet no matter how easy I felt for being glam head to toe, he insisted that I loop my hand in his arm, and being this close to him made me want to faint.
So hard.
His rich cologne covered me in a blanket as we scooted about the room.
“Tonight’s function is about bringing awareness to the Berkeley Foundation. My family started this foundation decades ago. It’s expected for me to pretty much shake hands and make small talk with everyone in the room. After we make our rounds, we’ll make way to our table and have our dinner. We should be out of there by 10pm, tops.”
We arrived at 7pm. By 8pm, my face felt numb from smiling so much, between sipping wine and making small talk when questions were diverted to me: "And who might this young lady be?" "And what do you do?"
"I’m Kate, and I’m a private chef."
This took Atticus by surprise.
“I thought you were in music management?” he asked.
“I was. That was after my cheffing days.”
“Hm.” He replied thoughtfully.
But I never filled him in further, because as soon as my mouth opened, another excited guest greeted Atticus hand. Wow, he wasn’t joking. This really was like a job.
I always pictured these events of the elite to be easy as pie: eating, chatting, drinking, and spending money. But I guess when you held a prominent position like Atticus's, you're more like a politician or pastor of a very, very large congregation. Atticus was in his element. Or perhaps this jovial, charismatic creature was who he always was. I tried my best to not just gaze at him dreamily throughout all the small talks and introductions. I was, after all, just an escort—not that type!—a date, but not really a 'serious' date. Just eye candy on his arm. But I knew I felt something, even it was just pure flirtation. Oh, we were flirting alright. And I enjoyed every bit of it. I really couldn’t stop staring at him and listening to him speak with honest curiosity and admiration. He really was highly articulate and had a lot of important things to say.
Southern Charmed Billionaire Page 3