by Vi Keeland
“Can I help you?”
“Umm… I think I might have the wrong room. I was looking for Weston?”
The man shook his head. “Think you got the wrong fella.”
“I’m so sorry to disturb you.”
He shrugged. “No problem. But take it easy on your Weston when you find him.” He smiled. “Most times us men mean well. Sometimes it’s just hard to see with our heads stuck so far up our asses.”
I smiled. “Thanks. And sorry again.”
After the man closed the door, I double-checked the number. This was definitely the one Weston had been in when our rooms were on the same floor. I was sure of it, because it was only two doors down from mine. But perhaps another suite had become available, and he’d moved, too.
As I waited for the elevator again, I decided it was probably for the best anyway. I didn’t need to waste my time and energy on Weston. I might as well go back to my room. When the doors slid open, I was greeted by Louis.
“Hey. You’re here late tonight,” I said.
Louis smiled. “I’m just on my way out now.”
I stepped into the elevator car. “Oh good.”
“Did you get off on the wrong floor? Forget you changed rooms?”
I shook my head. “No, actually I was supposed to meet Weston. But he must’ve moved rooms, too. I think maybe a suite became available. I know he was also waiting for a bigger room.”
Louis nodded. “He moved rooms. I was downstairs when he came down to change out his key the other day. But he didn’t take an upgrade. He’s just two doors over on this floor, in your old room.”
“My old room?” My forehead wrinkled. “Had his room been reassigned after he checked out or something?”
Louis shook his head. “Not that I’m aware of. He just asked to move to the room you’d vacated. I told him housekeeping hadn’t made it up there yet, but he said not to worry, he’d take care of it. I assumed you were aware.”
The elevator doors had started to slide closed, but I stuck my hand in at the last second, stopping them.
“Ohhhh, that’s right. I totally forgot about that. Sorry, Louis, it’s been a long day. I’m going to get off here to go see him after all. You have a good night.”
I walked down the hall to my old room, feeling completely confused. Why the hell had he changed rooms? The anger that had started to dissipate came rushing back with a vengeance.
This time I banged on the door like I meant it. Bam. Bam. Bam.
Weston opened the door wearing a smirk and immediately stepped aside. “Somebody’s anxious,” he purred.
“Why the hell are you in my old room?” I stomped past him.
“I think the better question is why are you following me?”
“I was not following you, you egotistical ass!”
Weston’s smile widened. “Right.”
“I wasn’t!” My voice came out so high, it screeched a little at the end.
“Have a seat, Sophia.”
I ignored him. “Why are you in my old room?”
Weston leaned against the desk and crossed his feet at the ankles. “I’ll tell you when you tell me why you were following me.”
“I was not following you. And you’re totally delusional about why I do things. I happened to be at the same building as you because I had an appointment. While I’m at it, I also did not have sex with you because I like when you boss me around.”
The smug bastard looked amused. He folded his arms across his chest. “No?”
I folded my own arms. “No.”
We stared at each other. Weston had a gleam in his eyes, and I could see the wheels turning in his head as we waged an unspoken battle of who would blink first.
“Have a seat, Sophia.”
“No.”
He smiled. “See? Just because you like me to be in control when we have sex doesn’t mean you want me to boss you around when we’re not. One doesn’t equate to the other. I promise you, it doesn’t make you weak in my eyes that you like being dominated sexually.”
“I do not.”
Weston pushed off the desk and walked toward me. The air in the room began to crackle. As pissed off as I was, or as pissed off as I wanted to be, I couldn’t deny that I was incredibly attracted to this man, in a way I’d never experienced before. Something about having him near made me feel like I might combust if he didn’t touch me.
He gripped my hip with one hand and looked up at me. Though he held me firm, I still knew without a shadow of a doubt that if I told him to take his hand off of me, he absolutely would. Our interactions were so bizarrely confusing.
“If I told you to remove your hand right now, what would you do?”
He looked me straight in the eyes. “I’d remove my hand.”
“So how can you say I want to be dominated by you?”
“You’re confusing domination with control. You can want to be dominated, and still keep control. In fact, you’ve been the one in control of what’s going on between us every time we’ve been together.”
I struggled to accept that, and Weston saw it in my face. “Just stop thinking about it and go with it, if you enjoy it.”
I looked away, but turned back and caught his eyes. I didn’t know why it was so important, but I had to ask. “Where were you going tonight? What was in that building?”
Weston was quiet for a moment. “I see a shrink. She has an office in that building.”
Oh wow. That was the last thing I’d expected him to say.
He watched while I processed his answer. After giving me a minute, he tilted his head. “Any other questions?”
“No.”
“Good, then it’s my turn. Were you following me?”
How could I not be honest when he’d just admitted something so personal to me?
My smile was sheepish. “Yes, I was.”
“Why?”
I thought about it. My answer came out on a laugh. “I have no goddamn idea. I saw you on the street when I came out of the store and just did it.”
Weston smiled, and my insides melted a little.
“Where were you all day?” he asked. “I looked for you, but you weren’t in your office. I couldn’t even properly stalk you this morning while you were getting your coffee.”
I grinned. “I hid in my room most of the day so I didn’t have to see you.”
The biggest, most honest smile spread across Weston’s face. You would’ve thought I’d just told him how great he was rather than I’d spent the day avoiding him.
We again had a little stare-off, but this time Weston broke it. He reached down to unbuckle his belt. The sound of the metal clanking shot straight between my legs.
“Down on your knees, Sophia.”
Oh God.
He put his hands on my shoulders and gave me a little nudge, encouraging me to kneel. To my utter disgust, I did. I dropped down and reached for his zipper.
“Hey, Soph?” Weston said.
I looked up.
He grinned. “I’ve been waiting a while to use this one. Parting is such sweet swallow.”
Chapter 12
* * *
Weston
“I’m glad you agreed to come back today so we could pick up where we left off when we ran out of time yesterday. How was your evening?” Dr. Halpern asked.
“I didn’t drink anything or do anything stupid, if that’s what you’re asking. I’m guessing you have to include that in your weekly report to my grandfather?”
Actually, I suppose stupidity was in the eye of the beholder. Some people might think sleeping with the enemy was stupid, but I happened to think what was going on between Sophia and me was pretty damn phenomenal.
“The reports I send your grandfather each week focus on your progress and the stability of your mental health. I know you signed a waiver of confidentiality, but that waiver is very limiting. You should know that I cannot legally, and I do not, provide any details of what we talk about. I simply report whether yo
u’re continuing to make progress, and whether I believe your emotional state puts you at risk for relapse.”
I actually hadn’t known that. I’d signed whatever legal mumbo jumbo my grandfather had put in front of me without reading it the day he’d agreed to give me another chance. For all I knew, he was entitled to keep my firstborn. I’d spent more time deliberating over whether I was willing to take weekly piss tests than whether I was willing to see a shrink. When I’d agreed to my grandfather’s conditions to get my job back, I’d thought this would be the easy part. Go tell some quack a load of bullshit each week, meet regularly with my sponsor, and hit up some AA meetings. I’d be back in grandfather’s good graces in no time. I didn’t count on having the urge to actually talk to this woman.
“How has it been seeing Sophia every day at work? Last time we talked about her, I thought she might be a reminder of some difficult times in your life.”
If Sophia had reminded me of Caroline initially, that definitely wasn’t what I thought about when I saw her these days. In fact, it was nearly impossible to think of anything other than the sight of Sophia down on her knees in front of me last night. This morning, I’d nearly thrown myself into a diabetic coma with the amount of sugar I’d dumped into my coffee. Normally I put two sugar packets in, but this morning while I stalked her getting her coffee, I couldn’t stop remembering the sound she’d made with my cock down her throat. It was a cross between a hum and a moan, and every time I thought about it, my balls tightened. Even now, I had to discreetly adjust my slacks.
“Working with Sophia has proven to be…interesting.”
“Oh? How so?”
I looked over at the doc. “You really can’t repeat anything we discuss in these sessions to my grandfather?”
Dr. Halpern shook her head. “Nothing. I only relay your overall mental stability.”
I took a deep breath. “Okay. Well, Sophia and I…we’ve found a productive way to put the energy we create disliking each other to good use.”
Dr. Halpern jotted something in her notebook. I wondered if it might be fucking the enemy. When she was done, she folded her hands on her lap. “So you and Sophia have entered into a personal relationship?”
“Something like that.”
“Have you made her aware of your history?”
“You’re going to have to be a little more specific there, Doc. What history are we talking about? Me sleeping with half the showgirls in Vegas? The abuse of alcohol? That my family is pretty much done with me unless I clean up my act? Or do you mean that I have babysitters who report back to my grandfather each week?”
I liked that Dr. Halpern rarely reacted—not even to my sarcastic questions. Instead, she just responded with no judgment.
“I was referring to your struggle with alcohol.”
I shook my head. “No, that hasn’t come up.”
“Are you concerned it might be an issue for her, and that’s why you haven’t mentioned it?”
“It’s just not the type of relationship we have.”
“Well, many relationships start out as one thing and grow into something else. Sometimes when people wait too long to share something, there are hard feelings when it finally comes out. The person who was in the dark can feel an element of distrust.”
“Trust me, our relationship isn’t growing into anything more than it is.”
“Why is that?”
“She’s a nice girl—the kind who dates struggling playwrights, not recovering alcoholics who let down their family and can’t remember the names of half the women who’ve been in their bed.”
“When you say you let your family down, do you mean in a business sense, because your drinking interfered with your job? Or are you referring to Caroline?”
“All of it.”
Dr. Halpern picked up her trusty pad and jotted a few notes again.
“What if I wanted to see those?”
“My notes?”
I nodded. “You’re always writing, and it makes me curious.”
Dr. Halpern smiled. Again, she folded her hands on her lap. “You’re welcome to see my notes if it’s causing you stress to not know what I’m writing. But I’m not sure reading them will make it clear why I thought whatever I’ve written down was important. How about, if you’re curious, just ask me, and I’ll tell you what I wrote and explain why I wrote it.”
“Okay… What did you write down when I said I felt I’d let my family down?”
She looked down at her pad and then back up at me. “I wrote misplaced guilt over Caroline’s death. And the reason I wrote that is because what seems to be at the center of your mental health issues is your sister.”
I shook my head. “You’re wrong.”
“Meaning you don’t think some of your struggles deal with the death of your sister, Caroline?”
“Oh no. I didn’t mean that. Most definitely I struggle with my sister’s death. What I meant was you were wrong in writing down misplaced guilt. My guilt is exactly where it belongs.”
***
The hall lights in the executive office corridor were on a timer. After seven, sensors at various points would activate them only when motion was detected. Since I’d had a mostly unproductive afternoon, I decided to call it a night and go get something to eat at seven thirty. Closing up my office, I noticed the hall didn’t illuminate right away, and it was easy to see that all the office doors were either closed or the lights were off. So as I walked down toward the elevator, I assumed Sophia wasn’t in her office. But as I passed, I caught something in my peripheral vision that caused me to back up to her doorway.
“You’re still here?”
The lights in Sophia’s office flickered on. She must’ve been sitting so still that the motion sensors couldn’t detect her.
“Were you sleeping or something?”
Sophia’s eyes seemed to focus. “No, I guess I was lost in thought and didn’t even realize the lights had turned off.”
Yeah, I know the feeling.
I nodded. “I made some calls today and asked around about your contractor. Let’s just go with the Boltons.”
“Oh, great. I was going to ask you about that. Travis called me today to follow up.”
Hearing that the asshole had called her made me want to change my mind. “What time did he call?”
“I don’t know, maybe about eleven. Why?”
“Then why didn’t you ask me?”
Sophia’s lips puckered, while mine twitched to a grin. “Avoiding me again?”
“Just busy, Weston. Just once, can you not make something about you?”
“Sure, when I don’t think it actually is.”
Sophia rolled her eyes. “Is it difficult to carry around an ego that size? It must get heavy.”
I laughed. Tilting my head toward the elevator panel, I said, “I was going to go downstairs to get something to eat. Did you have dinner yet?”
Sophia shook her head.
“Want to join me?”
She nibbled on that pouty bottom lip. “I still have a lot of work to do.”
“I’m not asking for your hand in marriage, Fifi. Two people who work together can share a meal. If it makes you feel any better, we can discuss business while we eat. I spoke to the union again today and can fill you in.”
She hesitated, but eventually sighed. “Okay.”
I shook my head. “Such a sacrifice. You’ll probably get into heaven with how good you are to me.”
Sophia tried to hide her smirk, but failed. “I need to run to the ladies’ room first. I’ll meet you down there.”
“Alright. If you want to avoid being alone with me in the elevator, I can understand that.” I winked. “I’ll get us a table downstairs at Prime.”
***
“So do you miss London?” I asked, picking up my water. The waiter had dropped off the wine menu, and Sophia was busy perusing it.
She looked up and sighed. “I do, in a lot of ways. But in ways I didn’t expect, I a
lso don’t miss it. How about you? Do you miss Vegas?”
I shook my head. “Not at all. Me and Vegas didn’t mix well.”
Sophia laughed. “Not even the nonstop parties? I know New York is the city that never sleeps, but it’s different than Las Vegas. Maybe it’s because I’ve only ever spent time in the touristy areas, but everyone in Vegas seems to be on vacation and having a great time. Whereas here, people walk around in suits to go to work.”
I ran my finger along the condensation of my glass. “Especially the parties.”
Sophia looked down at the wine list again and offered it to me. “Do you want to share a bottle?”
I hesitated, but our eyes caught, and somehow the truth tumbled out of my mouth. “I’m an alcoholic, and I’m in recovery.”
Sophia’s eyebrows jumped. “Oh! Wow. I’m so sorry for asking. I had no idea.”
“It’s fine. No need to apologize. And order your wine. Don’t not indulge because of me. I’m good with sitting with someone who’s having a drink and not having one.”
She looked uncertain. “Are you sure? I don’t need to have one.”
Just then, the waiter walked over. “Can I get you something to drink or a glass of wine to start?”
I looked to Sophia, and she seemed torn. So I took the menu from her hands and handed it back to the waiter. “She’ll have a glass of the 2015 Merryvale merlot, and I’ll have a seltzer with lemon, please.”
He nodded. “Very well. I’ll give you a few more minutes to look at the dinner menu.”
After he walked away, Sophia was still looking at me.
“It’s fine, really. Stop thinking you’re going to cause me to relapse or something.”
She smiled. “You’re giving me too much credit. I wasn’t worried about your sobriety at all. I was actually wondering how you knew which wine I liked?”
“You left a half-full bottle in your room when you moved up to the suite.”
She nodded. “That reminds me, you never did say why you moved into my room when I asked the other day.”
I smirked. “You’re right, I didn’t.”
She chuckled. “Seriously, was something wrong with your room?”
