One Night with Gael

by Maya Blake

  The beginnings of doubt and disappointment at what she’d done crowded her every thought process.

  The bottom line was that she’d found a neat argument to give herself permission to sleep with Gael. But in the cold light of day those arguments rang disturbingly hollow. She’d indulged herself simply because she’d been too weak to resist the temptation of the most compelling man she’d ever met.

  Sure, she could forgive herself for it—eventually—but in succumbing to momentary madness had she given up more than her virginity? Had she also burned bridges in the career she’d fought tooth and nail to succeed in forging for herself? She didn’t need the internet to confirm to her that Gael Aguilar had power and clout. Nor was she naive enough to think she could escape unscathed from her one mistake should he be indiscreet enough to whisper about what had happened between them.

  She only had one choice. She had to talk to him—make it clear that they were to treat what had happened between them last night as the transient indulgence it was and nothing else. She wasn’t above begging for his discretion if it came to that. She had too much to lose.

  Turning over, she opened her eyes.

  To see an empty space next to her.

  She wasn’t surprised to find him gone. After all he’d left her wide awake, seconds after they’d made love, and locked himself into the bathroom. Had she not been completely shattered, she would have dragged herself off to the other bedroom to avoid what must have been an even more humiliating sight for Gael when he’d emerged from the bathroom.

  Had he even slept in the same bed with her? Or had he availed himself of one of the unoccupied bedrooms so he wouldn’t have to look at her or deal with her? Had she been so disappointing that she hadn’t merited six minutes, never mind his customary six weeks? Not that she’d intended to have that long a time with him!

  Her face heated as humiliation mounted. She didn’t want to acknowledge the dull pain in her chest, but Goldie was a believer in facing problems head-on. Yes, she’d given her virginity to a man who hadn’t even acknowledged it. A part of her was glad of that. But another small part mourned her lost innocence because, while the experience had been phenomenal, she couldn’t think about it without thinking about what had come after. Without thinking about why her chest felt tight with unsettling emotions she was too anxious to examine.

  Dragging herself upright, she looked around her. The dressing gown was draped over a chair, her underwear laid on top of it. More heat surged into her face at the thought of Gael touching her things. Pushing the disturbing thought away, she rose, then gasped as her body’s discomfort registered. The enormity of what she’d done grew as she gathered the clothes and made her way back to her room.

  If she’d still kept the diary she’d used to as a teenager, the events of the last twenty-four hours would have been emblazoned in red ink across her trusted leather-bound notebook. But, alas, they were to be confined in a secret vault in her mind, only to be examined on the rarest of occasions at some remote point in the future, when humiliation didn’t burn this bright or this painfully.

  She was debating in her mind exactly when that occasion would be when she entered the other bedroom suite.

  The note propped up against her pillow was hard to miss, with the hotel’s distinctive burgundy and cream stationery standing out against the white sheets, and the bold black scrawl across the paper.

  Trepidation eating at her, she walked across the room and plucked up the folded paper.

  Goldie,

  I’ve decided to go a different way with the discussed role. The driver will be waiting when you’re ready to take you wherever you need to go. Take as much time as you need.

  The contents of the envelope are a token of my gratitude for your time.

  G

  Even before her numb fingers had located and opened the envelope, which had been propped up behind the note, sheets of icy rage were bucketing down on her.

  Yesterday Goldie had thought that casting director asking her to go to his hotel suite for sex if she wanted the role she’d auditioned for was bad enough. Now she knew the depths of true humiliation.

  She wasn’t even sure why she took out the sheaf of dollar bills and counted them. Perhaps she wanted to know just how much her degradation was worth to Gael Aguilar. It certainly wasn’t because she intended to use a single cent of it.

  Ten thousand dollars.

  Hot, humiliating tears filled her eyes. When they dripped down her cheeks she angrily swiped them away. Was this how her mother had felt each time she was used and discarded?

  Goldie wasn’t proud that she’d inadvertently walked in her mother’s shoes. But she hadn’t done it through choice. She didn’t deserve this!

  Her anger wiping away the last of her humiliation, she dressed in last night’s clothes, uncaring of how she’d look walking across the famous hotel’s lobby. Her rage would insulate her just fine.

  She stopped in the bathroom long enough to wash her face and tidy her hair before she exited the suite, the note and the envelope full of cash clutched tight in her fist.

  A butler of indeterminate age emerged as she entered the lavish living room. ‘Good morning, miss. Would you like some breakfast?’ he asked in cultured tones.

  Putting on her best acting skills, she smiled and shook her head. ‘No, thank you. Is it possible to summon the driver?’

  ‘Of course, miss. Would you like me to tell him the destination or would you prefer to relay it yourself?’

  ‘I’ll take care of it. Thank you.’

  The butler nodded and crossed over to a nearby phone. After a short conversation he returned. ‘He’s pulling up now, miss. If you’d allow me to escort you...?’

  He led her out to the private marble-floored foyer and into the lift that solely served the presidential suite. Stepping in with her, he swiped a gold access card and pressed the button for the ground floor. Goldie was thankful for his discretion as they exited onto a side street that led to Fifth Avenue, but she couldn’t stop herself from wondering how many times this butler-driver scene had been staged to facilitate Gael’s predilection for one-night stands.

  The very thought filled her with even more distaste and anger, darkening her mood as she emerged into the sunlight.

  The limo was parked only steps from the revolving doors, its driver standing attentively at the back door. He tipped his hat when he saw her, his face politely neutral.

  Goldie hated herself for the lie she was about to tell, but she would never be able to live with herself if she let this go unchallenged. She couldn’t bear the thought that Gael Aguilar would reside in his lofty kingdom, content that he’d bought and paid for her and was therefore free of wrongdoing. So she waited until the butler had retreated before she faced the driver and waved the scribbled note.

  ‘Gael left me a message that you were to take me wherever I wanted to go?’

  ‘Yes, miss,’ the driver responded.

  ‘Well, I’d like to go home, but now the silly man wants me to have breakfast with him before I do. And after my unfortunate mugging last night I don’t have a phone to call and tell him I can’t. Can you take me to where he is, please?’ she pleaded.

  The driver started to frown.

  Goldie hurriedly continued. ‘It’d serve him right for me to just let you take me home, but I don’t want to get into another fight with Gael. Not for another twenty-four hours, at least! So help a girl out—please?’ She put on her best smile.

  After the briefest hesitation, he nodded. ‘Of course, miss. He’s not too far away.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Goldie expelled a secret sigh of relief as he opened the back door and helped her in. The moment the door shut she unclenched her fists and closed her eyes as a deep shudder of unexpended adrenaline rushed through her.

  The limo started to move and she
was thrown back to last night. She should have walked away, found the nearest police station and taken her chances with the men in blue rather than the man in a black suit.

  Pursing her lips, she squashed down might-have-beens and caught the driver’s eye in the rearview mirror. ‘Is he...is he in a meeting?’

  Now she was doing this, the thought of an audience made her cringe—but not enough to alter her decision.

  ‘Yes, miss. The production meeting should be done in half an hour.’

  She fought back slight trepidation, nodded and murmured her thanks. Trying to calm her nerves was no use. Her heart was thrumming loud enough to block out the busy sounds of New York traffic as they traversed Midtown.

  When the driver pulled up in front of a sheer glass office tower Goldie almost lost her nerve. The bundle of cash clutched in her fist—the representation of the grossest insult she’d ever suffered—spurred her on.

  She exited the car and nodded her thanks.

  The driver said, ‘He’s on the tenth floor, I believe. I’ve called the receptionist. She’ll let you in. And, miss...?’

  Goldie paused. ‘Yes?’

  ‘He probably deserves what’s coming to him, but go easy on him.’

  Her eyes widened. The tall, heavyset man, who might easily double as a bodyguard, doffed his cap with a discreet smile before getting back into the car. Bemused, she walked into the building, wondering why the driver was giving her access to confront his boss if he’d seen through her ruse.

  Maybe he felt Gael deserved it? On account of having done it before?

  Her bewilderment increased as the lift rushed to the tenth floor. But by the time she exited and was shown to the conference room her anger was firmly in place. She shoved open the double doors and entered.

  Gael sat at the head of a large table, flanked by executives on either side. She didn’t bother to stop and count how many people were in the room, but she knew all eyes had turned to train on her.

  He saw her, froze mid-speech, his eyes widening, wary and watchful. On a screen to the side of him a vaguely familiar man also stopped talking and glanced her way.

  ‘Goldie—’

  ‘This is how you operate, is it?’ She waved the envelope at him from the opposite end of the oval table. Her voice shook with anger, but she didn’t care. ‘What’s the twenty-first-century version of wham-bam, thank you, ma’am? And, seriously, after that mind-blowing night I would’ve thought I’d warrant at least fifty thousand! Are you sure you don’t want to revise the sum? After all, sleeping with a big, bad boss like you would gain me upwards of few hundred thousand if I should take it to the press, hmm?’ she sliced at him.

  He surged to his feet, planting his hands on top of the table as his cold eyes glared dire warning at her. ‘Goldie, this isn’t the time—’

  ‘Or the place? I beg to differ. I think this is exactly the time to show you what I can do. Isn’t that what you asked for last night? For me to show you what I can do? And weren’t your exact words something along the lines of, “You’re good. So very good”? So what changed your mind between last night and this morning? I think I deserve to know that at the very least, don’t you?’

  His jaw clenched for one heart-stopping second. ‘If you know what’s good for you—’

  She laughed—a bitter, spiky sound that didn’t feel one little bit natural. ‘What’s good for me? I think we both know I made one gross misjudgement after another when I chose to trust a single word you said. I may be an actress, Gael, but you were very good at pretending too. Maybe you should try your hand at acting. But I need two small favours from you, if you’d be so kind?’

  His jaw clenched. ‘Sí?’ he said through gritted teeth.

  ‘First of all, the next time you come across me being mugged, do me a favour and keep walking. I’m absolutely sure I don’t need your brand of chivalry. And secondly...’

  Darkened hazel eyes glared at her across the gleaming table. ‘Yes?’

  She ripped open the envelope, pinched the dollar bills between her fingers and flung the whole lot across the table. ‘Take your sleazy money and shove it where the sun doesn’t shine!’

  Beneath the flying bills, stunned silence gripped the whole room. Gael’s eyes blazed with incandescent rage.

  Knowing she’d struck her mark, Goldie dramatically brushed her hands clean, then began to walk backwards, her eyes still connected with his, a triumphant smile curving her mouth. She’d clawed back some of her dignity. She might have cratered her career in the process, but that was a problem to be tackled another day. Her immediate problem for now was to find a way to get home. It looked as if she’d have to plough deeper into her meagre savings for a taxi ride after all—

  The sound of applause froze her thoughts and her feet. Her mouth dropped open as more hands joined in with the clapping. On the screen, the man she now recognised as a famous director pumped his fist, his face split into a wide grin as he pointed an accusing finger at Gael.

  ‘Gael, you sly, brilliant man! You spend twenty minutes laying into me for the delay to the production when all along you had this up your sleeve?’ The man barked out another laugh, before turning his gaze to Goldie. ‘You—Goldie Whoever-you-are—just made my day! I can already see the headlines...not that I court them of course. The media will lap you right up. Nothing captures the moviegoing public’s imagination more than a newbie blowing their socks off. I don’t think it’s too premature to say welcome to the team—’

  ‘Ethan, shut up for a moment,’ Gael bit out, his gaze still locked on her.

  He hadn’t so much as moved a muscle since she’d flung his money in his face. And with each moment that passed she feared the look in his eyes would erupt into actual flames.

  She’d made her point. She needed to get out of here. Fast. Despite the crazy talk spewing from the mouth of the award-winning director. Another step back brought her to the double doors.

  ‘Come on. You trusted me with this project, Gael. Gave me carte blanche to find the best actress for the lead character. I know my broken leg hasn’t helped matters, but—’ he tipped his head towards Goldie, another smile splitting his face ‘—with this gem you’ve discovered we can start production almost immediately.’

  Goldie frowned. ‘I... What...? I don’t know what you’re talking—’

  ‘Gentlemen, ladies—excuse me for a few minutes, por favor?’ Gael interrupted once more.

  He was rounding the table in quick, purposeful strides, his eyes cutting into her, silencing any further speech she could muster. Galvanised by the look in his eyes, she turned sharply, slammed her hands against the door in her rush to escape. When it opened she rushed through with fast, skin-saving strides towards the lift.

  She’d poked the dragon in his den. Woken it. No need to stick around and watch the resulting inferno.

  She reached the lift doors just as hands closed over her arms. Turned her firmly around.

  Burnished eyes blazed down at her. ‘You think you can create a spectacle like that and get away scot-free?’ he seethed.

  ‘It was nothing short of what you deserved,’ she launched back, her hands going to the hands holding her prisoner in a bid to prise them off her. ‘Let me go.’

  He dragged her close and fired under his breath, ‘Not until you’re made to understand the consequences of what you did back there.’

  ‘Whatever they are, they were worth it,’ she returned defiantly.

  A dark cloud descended on his face. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes, I’m one hundred per cent sure! Let me go, Gael.’

  Behind her the lift door pinged open.

  ‘Take a minute, Goldie. Think about what you’re doing. Any hint that what you have just done wasn’t an audacious audition could spell the end of your career. Are you prepared to take the risk?’

/>   ‘To make my point that I’m not a whore you leave money on the bed for when you’re done? Absolutely.’

  His nostrils flared and a look passed through his eyes. Regret, maybe? Or surprise? She gritted her teeth.

  ‘I don’t think of you like that.’

  ‘Oh, good—I’m so glad we’ve got that established. What about your note? You’ve “decided to go a different route”? The only difference between you actively pursuing me last night and leaving me that poor excuse of a Dear Jane note this morning is the fact that we slept together. So pardon me if my powers of deduction are right on point!’

  His jaw visibly tightened. ‘Calm down, Goldie.’

  ‘No—and stop saying my name like that.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Like I’m a recalcitrant child you’re trying to manage. I’m done talking to you. I want nothing to do with you. Let me go and I’ll try to forget we ever met.’

  ‘Santo cielo. You should stop pursuing a career in acting and form an international debate team. You’d absolutely excel at it.’

  Without waiting for an answer to his damning of her character, he dropped his hand from her arm to her wrist and dragged her towards another set of doors.

  Shoving them open, he led her into an empty conference room, making sure to block her exit.

  She didn’t want to look at him—didn’t want to be close enough to him to breathe in his unique scent, to watch the beauty of his square-jawed face and be reminded of how she’d explored his body last night, how he’d moved so powerfully inside her. So she stalked as far away from him as possible and stared out of the window at the Midtown traffic.

  ‘Ignoring me isn’t going to make this conversation conclude any faster,’ he delivered.

  She placed her hands on the window ledge to steady herself. She wanted to drop her forehead to the window too, but that would be one weak gesture too far. ‘I told you, I have nothing further to say to you. Nor do I imagine you have anything to say to me. Your little note and the deplorable cash buy-off said it all for you. But I’m prepared to grant you two minutes. Say what you dragged me in here to say, then I’m leaving. And don’t even think about trying to stop me.’