by Scott, S. L.
Behind me, the music returns to full volume, and Hamilton calls, “Ashford, man, come back.” He doesn’t leave the doorway, letting me escape.
I don’t turn around or stop. I don’t even hesitate. This night was wrong on so many levels and I should have kept walking when I heard Abbott say my name on the street. Lesson learned.
Unrolling my sleeves, I button them at the cuff and shove them into my pockets. I walk two blocks before flagging a cab down. One short taxi ride later, I’m back at the place that I’m once again calling home. There is nothing about this place that feels like home to me and I just pissed my real home off with a drunken sex call in the middle of the night.
I’ll make amends with her tomorrow, hoping she can get the sleep she needs tonight. The old me would have called her right away, but I want her to rest, so I control myself and go to bed instead.
The next day, I wake with a splitting headache and glazed eyes. Not a good look for the office and especially not a Monday morning. I shower which helps not only the way I look, but my mindset. After dressing, I go across the hall and have breakfast. My parents’ chef serves up scrambled eggs, bacon, and pancakes.
While I’m shoveling it all in, I realize I didn’t eat last night. That definitely didn’t help my state. Those guys were assholes in high school and they’re still assholes; assholes with too much money at their disposal, too many women at their disposal, and too much time on their hands. Any of those are bad enough on their own, but mix them together and it’s a dangerous combination. I need to stay focused on the reason I’m back in Manhattan and it’s not to turn back into one of them again.
I arrive at work twenty minutes late and catch flack from my dad for it, as I should. It’s not easy for him to justify his kids having the positions we do without also having to remind me of the company’s policies. I apologize to him, to my secretary, and to Kate. I promise it won’t happen again and I will take this job seriously.
My dad considers pulling me from the presentation this afternoon. He keeps me on it, but gives me a warning to not screw this up.
Mallory calls me on a short break she has between two classes. I apologize to her as well, but it doesn’t seem enough and then she has to go because her class is starting. When the phone goes quiet, I stare out my window, realizing I don’t want to live this kind of life and I definitely don’t want to live life without her in it. I’ve got to get my shit together once and for all. If not for me, than for her. Mallory deserves that much.
24
Evan
Leaning forward, I break into Portuguese, wanting to speak to the clients in their native language. “Os estudos mostram que as Indústrias Pinho são um investimento seguro e uma ótima oportunidade para estabelecermos presença no mercado americano. O diretor financeiro do grupo é brasileiro e possui fortes laços com a comunidade latin e definitivamente agrega valor para possíveis oportunidades futuras. Nós temos os meios necessários para suprir não somente os objetivos financeiros da empresa, como também levá-la a outro patamar de crescimento. Eu realmente espero que você considere estes fatores na tomada de decisão.” I take a deep breath and wait and wait and wait. The six potential clients sitting before me are an account we have longed to land and my dad has placed his trust in me to bring them over to Ashford Holdings.
Standing at the head of the conference table, I look each of them in the eye, reading them the best I can, but they are a tough bunch. They don’t have ticks or signals that give their thoughts away. My dad entwines his fingers together while his elbows rest firmly on the table in front of him. As always, he commands authority. He’s completely confident that we’ll seal this deal, even if he has to step in and take over the presentation to do it. By the look in his eyes, he’s pleased. A Plus, he didn’t interrupt, which means I did a good job. The waiting game continues as silence fills the stuffy boardroom and the men look to each other, a conversation occurring through nods and gazes.
Mr. Santos, the President and spokesman for his financial team, stands up opposite from me, looks between my dad and me, and says, “You’ve got new clients, Mr. Ashford.” He walks toward me and I stand quickly, meeting him half-way to shake hands. “Thank you for putting our interests before your own. I have a feeling this is going to be a very rewarding relationship.”
“Thank you, Mr. Santos. I look forward to working on the team that will handle your account during this first transaction and getting your company’s financials in order for success in the long run,” I add.
“I hope you’ll be leading that team. I was very impressed by your presentation.”
I glance at my father who nods, giving me permission to explain. “We have a great team in place, including my sister Kate, who will head up your account. She had another meeting previously scheduled so she couldn’t attend today’s presentation, but she is well versed in your corporate structuring and current financials.”
“I’ll also be on the team, but I thoroughly trust my daughter to be your main point of contact. Please feel free to call me directly if you have any needs or concerns,” my dad says, stepping forward.
“I respect a man who makes family a priority. You did a great job today and I’m sure you’ll do a fine job at school. Now, Hugh…” He turns his full attention to my father.
I walk around the room and shake hands with all the men and wait by the door.
My father pats Mr. Santos on the back and they begin casually chatting as he leads the large group down the hall to the elevators. We make polite, but friendly small talk on the way. When they step into the elevator, Mr. Rocha, their CFO, says, “Nós vamos transferir o valor de US$ 6.7 milhões de dólares amanhã pela manha dando continuidade a nossa negociação.”
“Muito obrigada pela oportunidade e em nome do todos os funcionários das empresas Ashford Holdings, sejam bem-vindos. Mais uma vez obrigada e tenham uma ótima viagem,” I say before the elevator door closes.
* * *
“Congratulations, son. I knew you could do it.” My dad grabs me into a loose hug and I embrace him, feeling the adrenaline of success kicking in.
“Thanks for trusting me,” I say, stepping back.
We walk down the hall toward our offices, but he detours into Kate’s office first. “Evan closed Pinho Industries,” he announces proudly.
She looks up, her chin dropping, then she asks, “After one presentation?”
“Yep,” I answer, “One’s all it took.”
She pushes away from her desk and runs over to me, pulling me into her arms. “Evan! That’s a big account. Congratulations, baby bro. We should celebrate.”
“Raincheck?” I throw this out there as I escape out the door. “It’s been a long day and I kind of want to go home and relax.”
My dad follows me, offering, “That sounds like a good idea. Stop by if you want to have dinner with us. We eat at—”
“Seven,” Kate and I say in unison, and roll our eyes. We’ve eaten at seven our entire lives. Seriously, does he think he still needs to remind us? I laugh to myself.
“Well, I’m off.” I hurry to my office and grab my briefcase. It’s past six and I want to get home, wanting to talk to Mallory. Making a dash for the elevator, I slip inside the open doors behind three other employees heading home for the day.
I want to celebrate with my girl. All I want to do is get home and webcam with her. I haven’t seen her in four days due to our strange schedules and it’s getting to me. Thank God, we’ve gotten to talk and text, but I’m ready to see her.
The elevator stops and three young women step inside; two of them crowd me into the back corner. There are seven of us in here and room for at least two more, but I seemed to be crammed into the back by them, which makes no sense. One turns around and smiles while the other nonchalantly, but obvious to me, rubs her ass against the knuckles on my left hand. I lift my hand up, feeling uncomfortable in the situation.
I fist that same hand and cough into it followed by a loud clearing of my
throat, hoping they’ll get the hint and give me some space. One turns around, and says, “Bless you.” Funny, I didn’t sneeze.
I mumble, “Thanks.” Just as the doors open, I step forward, but the same two stay in place, making me run into the back of them. “Oh, I’m sorry. Are you not getting off on the first floor?” My eyes dart to the doors, knowing they’ll close on us if we don’t exit quickly.
They giggle as I wait for them to answer, my patience with this scenario gone. Trying to move without touching them is impossible. The darker haired one of the two says, “Actually, we’d like to get off, but maybe somewhere a little more private?” She takes me by the tie and tightens the knot at my neck.
“Um, I think you misunderstood me—” I start clarifying while attempting to step forward again as I tug my tie from her vice of a grip.
The other girl says, “We understood perfectly, handsome. You’re asking if we want to get off and the answer is yes.” Her Cheshire cat grin is unflattering as she rubs her fingers through my hair.
“Ladies, excuse me.” It’s a demand, not a suggestion. I work my way between them and off the elevator, shaking my head confused to how I gave them the wrong impression.
I feel like prey in Manhattan. Everyone on the street is on the hunt for their next dating conquest or looking for someone to conquer them for the night. Keeping my head down, I avoid eye contact, not wanting to engage in the game. I unbutton my suit jacket while making my way to one of the black cars my dad has on stand-by for us to use. Usually I prefer walking, but I’m too tired to make the fifteen block trek today.
After opening my apartment door, I toss my keys on the marble top console table and drop my brief case on the floor. I go straight to my room, past Kate’s, and turn on my computer. As it boots up, I strip down to my undershirt and briefs and sit and wait for the program to load.
Bingo! She’s online. I click on my girls’ avi—a picture that makes my fucking cock ache because she looks so sexy.
“Hi there, stranger,” she answers my call. The video loads a second later and there she is in all her beautiful glory.
“Hi there. God, I’ve missed you, baby,” I say, smiling as I stare at her. She’s a goddess and I’m not deserving to have someone so perfect anywhere near me, much less as my girlfriend. I swear I did something right in a former life to be given this opportunity with her.
She tilts her head and smiles. “Aww, I’ve been missing you too, babe. I think about you all the time.” She looks over her shoulder and grabs a blanket from her bed before spinning back around on her desk chair and looking at me. As she drapes the blanket over her shoulders, she says, “Sarah keeps this place like an icebox. You sure you’re ready to move here and be cold?” She giggles and my heart quadruples in size at the sound of her laughter.
“If it means wrapping myself around you to keep warm, yep, I’m so ready. I’m not missing a hint you’re trying to drop, am I?”Anxiety fills my stomach thinking she’s over me after being apart for two weeks.
She giggles. “I think you’ve learned that I’m more the come-right-out-and-say-it kind of girl.” She pulls her hair up into a ponytail and I see her ringed finger move across the screen. Fascinated by how much I love seeing her in such a normal setting, being herself, and showing her commitment to me by wearing my ring. A pale pink shades her cheeks, and a smile appears. “What? What are you smiling about, Evan?”
“You and the come-right-now part.” I pause to drink in this visual, so I can see her when I close my eyes later.
“Speaking of coming… you’re wearing entirely too many clothes for my liking. I couldn’t keep you in clothes in Hawaii and now—too many.”
My shirt is up and over my head without her having to ask. She raises an eyebrow and smirks, and I swear it’s one she learned from me. It looks good on her—sexy and mischievous.
She stands, dropping the blanket. Her nipples are hard through the cotton of her tank top. The top comes off and she sits back down, draping the blanket back over her shoulders, but leaves her chest bare and exposed for me. “I miss your body against mine, babe.” Her hand slides up her stomach and oh-so-slowly squeezes her breast. “I miss your hands on me, doing this to me.”
I want to watch her body, but her eyes engage me with their soulful depths. Her gaze drops down and I move my hand over to my abs, my body reacting to seeing her. She’s quiet, but her mouth is open, her lips barely parted. Lowering my hand, I rub lightly over my hard-on, shutting my eyes briefly as my release starts to build.
Her chest rises and falls with heavier breaths and she slips her hand below the cameras reach. As much as I want to see everything she’s doing to herself that’s making her head drop back and causing that sexy moan, it’s more erotic seeing only her reaction.
Sliding down into my chair, I get more comfortable and tighten my fingers around my dick. Keeping my eyes on her, I watch her—eyes closed and panting as her hand moves, pleasuring herself. I love the sound of her breaths, but I want to hear her voice too. My hand moves up and down my length, hard and fast, and I ask, “What do see when your eyes are closed?”
She fights her reaction to stop and respond, be polite and open her eyes. Instead, she continues, her hand moving faster, her breath picking up, and her sweet moans of pleasure getting louder. “You,” she says, as if gasping for air. “Always you.” Her face strains as she squirms, tensing before me. “Evan.” And she sinks down into her chair.
My release hits fast, my eyes clamping tight. “Fuck.” I have no control over my body when it comes to her. When I look up, a little embarrassed by how fast I came, she’s smiling at me—gentle and sweet. There’s a light in her eyes that sparkles in the dim light of her room.
“I love you,” she whispers.
She knows I love her, but I say the words not only for her, but for me as well. “I love you, too.”
“Gimme a sec. I’ll be right back,” she says, getting up and tightening the blanket around her.
I take the opportunity to clean the mess I made. After I put on a clean pair of boxers, she returns and sits down. Dressed in her tank top again, she’s now too hidden in that blanket to see the rest of her body.
Smiling, she says, “Well… that’s something I’ve never done.”
“I haven’t either, but I liked it.”
She blushes, it’s apparent even over the webcam. “I liked it, too.”
I don’t want to embarrass her anymore and decide it might be time to change the subject. “I closed my first deal today.”
“You did? That’s great! Tell me about it.”
I go through the story leaving out all the boring details. I can tell she’s sincerely interested in the story and gives me several ‘congratulations’, ‘I’m proud of you’, and ‘I knew you could do it’. I go on to talk about the dreaded upcoming board meeting.
“I’m confused,” she says. “Your parents own the company, yet there’s a board of directors who can make him retire?”
“It’s complicated, but my parents own majority stock in the company and have final say and the largest vote when it comes to major decisions concerning the business. But, as a public company, they have to listen to a group of advisors who have been brought in to oversee the overall operations of the company as representatives to the stock holders. This is where it gets tricky. There’s a clause that says if the board thinks my dad is not making sound decisions they have the right to oust him no matter what he wants.” I look at her, watching the monitor, her absorbing the information. “Most boards have representatives from the company on there as well to balance out the decision making process. Sometimes, it’s widows who inherit a seat on the board or a trusted outsider. In our case, we inherited a seat on the board when we each turned twenty-two. It’s unorthodox to have members our age on there, but not unheard of.”
“So if they try to get your dad out, you and Kate have two of the votes for him to stay?”
“Precisely, but we have to have valid reasons
and be able to justify those reasons for our votes.”
“What if they vote him out?”
“Someone else will take over the company. My parents will still own the majority and would probably take control of our board positions, if accepted by the other members.”
“It’s a lot of pressure, huh?”
“Yes. We have a lot of information and research, financial statements, and his reputation to back our argument, but I’m still fucking scared to screw this up.”
“I love you, Evan. Your parents love you. You can’t screw this up if you’re prepared and it sounds like you are.”
Maybe I shouldn’t have laid this all out like I did, but she’s the only one I want to share things with. She looks worried because that worry crease is in full effect between her eyes. “Please don’t worry about me.”
“I don’t like you having to deal with so much,” she says, glancing down briefly. “I want you to know, whatever happens tomorrow, I still love you. Okay?”
I nod. “Okay.”
My eyes find the picture of us on the beach that I use as my phone background, reminding me I want to talk to her about our spat the other night. “Hey Mallory, I’m sorry about calling you when I was drunk and obnoxious. I just wanted to hear your voice, so that became my sole focus without thinking about you. I wasn’t taking your feelings into consideration and well, I want to apologize for my behavior.”
“Evan?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you. It’s hard on me, too. I want to talk to you all the time, but I get your voicemail a lot. I really want to fall asleep in your arms. I struggle at night without you next to me. It feels wrong trying to live life without you in it, but this was the second time you woke me up when you were out partying.”
