by Adrian Stark
‘What?’ There was no way I could invite Josephine to this. It promised to be a miserable night full of boring business talk. It was hardly romantic. Or even the slightest bit interesting.
‘Take her as your plus one! The night will be miserable, so you might as well take someone you actually want to talk to.’ The image was tempting: Josephine in a silk dress, champagne in hand as we talked and laughed together on a balcony.
‘But who will you take?’ I replied. ‘I don’t want you to be on your own.’
Christine flicked her hair over her shoulder and reached forward to lay a hand on Sidney’s shoulder.
‘Sidney, of course. If he’ll have me.’
Sidney laughed again and tipped his hat at her in the rearview mirror, eyes twinkling.
‘Of course, Miss Wright, I’d be honored.’
She smiled radiantly and settled back in beside me.
“It’s settled then. You can ask her when we get back to the Majestic.”
6
“He what?” Having my head buried in my bed covers did little to muffle Emily’s voice, and I turned sideways to peer out at her. They were both sitting at the end of the bed, leaning toward her with barely contained glee in their eyes.
“He asked me to a charity ball thing at La Casa de la Seda tonight.” It was a terrible idea, nothing good to come of it. “He looked nervous, and he blushed. I swear I thought he was going to kiss my hand.” It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fucking fair. “But I’m not going.”
“You told him that?” I hesitated. I had meant to. But it was so so tempting to say fuck it and go. Go to a billionaires party and drink champagne with a crazy hot guy that had invited me. He invited me. And he’d been tripping through his words when he’d done it, not making eye contact, fidgeting even. It was the most movement I’d seen from him outside of the night I’d spent in bed with him on board The Silver Cloud.
Robyn and Emily read my silence, and their smiles returned.
“You like him,” Robyn said, leaving no room for argument. I groaned and buried my head again.
“Yes.” They laughed.
“So, why not go?”
“Because I… I- I have nothing to wear.” It sounded more like a question and I winced. The harder they tried to convince me to go, the closer I got to giving in.
“Hang on, I saw something when you were unpacking.” The bed creaked as Robyn climbed to her feet and made her way over to my closet. “Here!”
It was the dress I’d been given in London — crimson red and backless. The material was light and airy, flowing like water when you run your hand down it. I’d tried it on once, when I’d first boarded The Silver Cloud and loved the way it felt against my skin. It was gorgeous and perfect for a ball. I looked at it, feeling betrayed by how pretty it looked.
“Problem solved then. You shall go to the ball!”
I was running out of excuses. Panic welled up in me, and I sat up sharply, nearly throwing Robyn off the bed.
“I don’t want to be known as a billionaire's mistress for the rest of my life! Yes, I like him and yes, I want to stand at a balcony and stare into his eyes, but It’s not like he’s going to call off his engagement just because he knows there’s a free piece of ass waiting at his beck and call.” Emily and Robyn shared a look at my outburst; I felt like crying. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that I liked him. All I wanted was enough money to buy back my home, the last place I ever truly felt safe, even if the people that made it feel like that were gone now. It wasn’t fair that, two for two, I’d fallen for someone I couldn’t be with. At least this one wouldn’t follow me home.
“Honey, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” Emily began kindly, “but if you like him and he’s invited you, you might as well go and have a nice time.” I blinked up at her.
“What if I get hurt?” I hated how small my voice sounded, how fragile. Two sets of arms circled me, and I sighed into the hug.
“You really don’t have to go,” Robyn murmured into my ear, “but it seems to me like you do want to.”
The whole room looked like it was straight out of a Victorian gothic novel with crushed velvet curtains covering every window and gorgeous dark wood that shone like mirrors. Men and women in suits in every color imaginable and exquisite dresses chatted and drank from dainty flutes of sparkling liquid. Behind me, Sidney whistled softly.
As far as I could gather, Raoul Tassis had all but demanded they each bring a plus one. Christine had bought Sidney as her,s and it was really sweet to see him greet her when we’d met them at the entrance to the Majestic — bowing deeply and extending an arm to help her get her beautiful but ridiculously long midnight blue dress down the remainder of the steps. He’d worn a bow tie the same color so that they could match and it had taken everything I had not to coo at them the whole car journey over to the Seda.
The two of them entered the room first, and I turned to find Andrew hesitating on the threshold, hands twisting in the fabric of his tie — the same deep red as my dress which, by the sly look Christine had given us both, had been planned. It was strange to see Andrew so nervous, and I reached out without thinking to smooth down the soft fabric.
“You’ll wrinkle it,” I said softly. Our hands brushed and I could feel the blush seep over my face. Great. Soon I’ll be the same color as the damn dress. “Are you nervous?” I expected to be brushed off with a polite smile, maybe a “me nervous? Ha! I do this every day,” but I was surprised when Andrew nodded minutely. “Why?”
He seemed to snap out of a trance, and he smiled down at me apologetically.
“It’s fewer nerves and more apprehension I guess.” He looked out over the room full of people and grimaced, “I just don’t want you to regret coming.” I frowned, why would I regret coming? Everyone looked so happy.
“Why would I regret coming?’
“These sorts of parties hardly ever get past the business small talk stage; it’s boring without someone to talk to … I’m worried you might not enjoy yourself.” My flush grew, I didn’t expect him to care all that much. I was only here as a plus-one after all, it’s not like I had any business insight or any insight at all for that matter. But I was curious.
“Then… why did you invite me?” Andrew blushed, ever so slightly, the bridge of his nose turning a soft pink, and it was a wonder I hadn’t noticed how expressive he really was — if you knew what to look for.
“Because I wanted to spend more time with you.” That sounded almost like a confession. Now I was really confused. He’d gone from a hot stone statue, incapable of making any expression beyond polite indifference, to a sweet guy that seemed nervous to talk to me.
Maybe he really did like me too?
But he was engaged. Why would he want me when he had an heiress waiting for him? He didn’t seem like a cheater. Something like hope blossomed in my chest and it was getting harder and harder to squash that feeling back down.
“Come on, you two.” Christine reappeared before I could respond, thrusting two glasses of something sweet-smelling under our noses. “Plenty of time to talk and have a good time after the party.”
Andrew chuckled and took both drinks, offering one to me with a raised eyebrow.
“Would you do me the honor of joining me for an evening of drinks, business talk and suffering?” See, that was flirting. Definitely.
Fuck it. I took a swig of my drink, hiding a smile and dramatically presented my arm.
“It would be an honor, my good sir.” Andrew linked his arm through mine and lead me further into the room.
It took all of twenty seconds for someone to approach us — a tall man with thinning gray hair and a short woman wearing a dress the color of the midday sun who hung off the man’s arm, obviously too drunk to keep herself upright.
“Andrew!” The man exclaimed in a gruff voice, “so good to see you. How are you?”
“Mr. and Mrs. Butler, you sound like you’re having a good time.” Andrew had recede
d back behind his stony walls, and I realized just how much he’d changed in the short time I’d known him. Gone was the smile and the sweetness that was almost childlike in its sincerity and I didn’t like what had replaced it nearly as much. I slipped my arm back through his and he looked down at me, startled. I smiled back, fighting a blush.
Mrs. Butler took a large gulp from her glass, smelling like vodka and what I could have sworn was the sickly stench of ginger ale.
“I heard you’re off on a six-month cruise at the moment. How exciting!”
“Yes, we’re heading to Italy in a few days.”
“I’ve met Sidney before, of course.” Mrs. Butler winked sluggishly at Sidney, who bowed his head in return, “but who is this lovely lady Andrew?” All eyes turned to me, and I felt so suddenly out of my depth that I took a few steps backward. I didn’t know what to say; what if I embarrassed myself, embarrassed Andrew and Christine?
A hand, warm and soft, landed gently between my shoulder blades and my mind short-circuited.
Andrew glanced down at me with a concerned smile and, after a deep breath, I returned it.
“I’m Josephine Miller; I’m the event coordinator for the trip.”
“Must be hell trying to keep two young billionaires happy, hey?” Mrs. Butler leaned over conspiratorially, seemingly unaware that she was practically shouting. “So many standards to meet.” She winked again and promptly lost her balance, clinging to her husband’s coattail to stop from collapsing on the floor. I, along with everyone except Mr. Butler, held in our laughter, and I felt my confidence returning. If Mrs. Butler can be borderline comatose, then no one would bat an eyelid if I stumbled through a sentence or two. I snagged another champagne flute from a waiters tray as he passed.
“The opposite actually,” I mused, taking a sip. It fizzled pleasantly in my nose. “They’re very happy doing anything at all. It’s been a lot of work trying to pin down what they want.”
Everyone laughed, though I had no idea what had been so funny, and the conversation quickly drifted into business talk. At some point, another couple joined the circle, and every time I introduced myself, Andrew’s hand would come up to my back, and I would zone out at how soft and strong his hands felt on my skin.
When it became clear that the conversation wasn’t going to get any more interesting, I made awkward eye contact with Sidney across the ever-growing circle of people. He edged his way around Christine to step next to me.
“How are you holding up?” I whispered. Sidney made a nonchalant hand gesture and hummed.
“It's actually not as bad as some of the others I’ve been to.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Not by a mile. There was this one back in New York a few years ago. Mrs. Butler was there and after drinking the bar dry, she went around asking everyone whether or not she was a GILF.”
I snorted, immediately covering my face with my hands to stifle the noise. Sidney sniggered, and Andrew glanced at us like we were insane, a smile curving at his mouth despite himself.
“What’s so funny over here, then?” I looked up. The entire circle was looking at Sidney, and I and the newcomer — a short man with thick dark hair and a sneer that I supposed was actually a smile — looked at me expectantly.
“Oh, we were just —”
“You must be Sidney’s companion for the evening.” I blinked at him. This must be Raoul Tassis. Christine had been particularly cutting about him on the car ride over. Good to know she was one hundred percent accurate.
“Actually, Sidney is my plus one. Josephine is my brother’s.” I could hear the barely contained rage in Christine’s voice. The more time I spent with Christine, the more I liked her; gone was the hostility from when we first met, replaced with a scathing no-nonsense wit that I adored.
Everyone else could hear it too, except Raoul, who wouldn’t shut up if his life depended on it.
“Oh, I had expected young MaryAnn to accompany you. Ah, but I can keep a secret, Andrew.” He looked me up and down, and I fought the urge to cross my arms over myself. His gaze felt dirty. “Next time though, I can give you the name of the place I use; good escorts are rather hard to find, I know.” Rage boiled inside me and I opened my mouth to tell him to fuck off when Andrew stepped forward and punched Raoul hard across the jaw.
7
Raoul fell back like a sack of potatoes, hitting the floor with a crash that made everyone in the room stop and look at us. I started, eyes wide at the blood on Andrew's knuckles — on Raoul's face. He had done that. Andrew had done that for me, to protect me. That revelation sent a flush of arousal coursing through me.
Christine was the first to react, stooping down to help Raoul up. Blood was steadily dripping from somewhere but before I could see any more, Andrew's hand grabbed mine, and he pulled me away from the growing group of people and out of the room altogether. He stopped to grab a bottle of Chambord as he passed a stunned looking waiter.
“Wait!” I said, struggling to keep up with him in my heels. Having already had three glasses of champagne, the room tilted pleasantly as we moved. “Is it okay to just leave like that?”
“To be honest, I don't really give a shit.” He still sounded angry, and I noticed his other hand tightened around the bottle. “Are you okay?”
I was, surprisingly.
“My pride’s a little sore but other than that, I'm fine.”
He led me down a corridor and into another room, just as beautiful as the first — but empty, apart from a few kitchen staff wandering through with heavy trays of canapes. Andrew seemed just as drunk as I was; the flush was back and he ran his hands through his hair, leaving it disheveled and wavy. My fingers itched to run through it.
I waited for him to speak and when he didn’t, I put a hand on his shoulder.
“Andrew, calm down. I’m fine.” Andrew jumped and turned to look at her, anger melting away.
“I’m sorry I just —” he sat down on the floor, back against the wall and took another sip from the heavy bottle of liquor.
“It so good to finally do that.” He was laughing, I realized, eyes closed and a blissful relieved smile on his face. He looked like a weight had been lifted off of him. Maybe Raoul and others like him, had been bothering him for way longer than I’d thought.
“If you hadn’t done it, I would’ve.” I laughed, moving to join him on the floor. The alcohol thrummed in my veins, warming my insides and I reached for the liquor bottle between us, wanting the feeling to continue. It tasted sweet and silky and I licked my lips to catch the last droplets, aware that Andrew was watching me with half-lidded eyes.
“Thank you for standing up for me,” I murmured with a lazy smile.
I wanted to ask about MaryAnn; why did Raoul think she was going to be here? Was she his fiancé? Andrew looked so carefree, on the high of finally standing up to the assholes he worked with. I couldn’t tell whether the pleasant warmth was from the liquor or the fact that I was pressed shoulder to thigh into Andrew’s side. My clit throbbed, and I clenched my thighs together, trying to gain some friction.
“So,” I said, breaking the silence. “You enjoying Barcelona?” Andrew opened his eyes and turned to look at me with a smile.
“I love it — I hope the rest of Europe measures up.” He took another swig from the bottle and offered it to me. “How did you get to be an event manager anyway?” I took a gulp, loving the way the silky liquid slid down my throat.
“Well, when I was younger, my mom, dad, and I traveled a lot. Like a lot a lot. When we got back, we’d always sit around and write group reviews of all the places we went. I always loved going to different places — figuring out what places went well together — and then when I got to college and figured out ‘hey, that thing you used to do for fun can be a degree!’ it was kind of a no brainer, you know?’” My voice was starting to slur but I didn’t care. Andrew was smiling at me and his lips looked so soft.
“So, what was your favorite place?” I asked eagerly. “I ne
ed to know what you like if you want me to keep up flawless service for six months straight!”
“Well, I loved the Casa Vicens — the views and the architecture.” His eyes were sparkling, or maybe it was the light, either way I couldn’t look away.
“But uh — my favorite was the Picasso Museum.” He looked over at me and seemed to hesitate for a moment before taking my hand in his. “I remember you saying you loved art galleries; it was beautiful there but I know I would have liked it more if you were there with me.” The air felt heavy around us and my breathing had picked up. Andrew licked his lips, and I followed the movement.
“Fuck it.” I surged forward, pressing my mouth against his, and I groaned when his arms slipped around my waist and squeezed at my hips, guiding me to straddle his lap. My tongue slipped between his lips, tracing his teeth before delving in to taste the sweet liquor on his tongue. I needed to breathe but goddamn, I didn’t want to pull away. Finally, Andrew pulled back, catching my bottom lip between his teeth for a second before letting me go completely. I ran my hands through his hair. Fuck it’s so soft.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” he rasped. I nodded quickly, already scrambling to my feet, breathing heavily.
The air felt heavy and thick as I sat in the back of the cab beside Andrew. I hadn’t paid the slightest bit of attention to the journey back through the Seda, too giddy from alcohol and Andrew’s kisses to care much where we were going.
My skin felt flushed; all I could think of was the last time this happened, how good Andrew’s hands had felt on my skin as he took me. Andrew’s hand landed on my leg, hiking up the side of my dress so he could get to the sensitive skin of my thigh. I gasped, grasping at his wrist to bring it higher until the tips of his fingers brushed against my clit through my underwear. Pleasure raced up my body, making me shiver, and I let out a soft groan. God, it felt so good.
Andrew’s voice was low and husky in my ear, though his words were directed towards the driver.
