by Amanda Aksel
“You mean with your family?” My eyes bulge from their sockets at the idea—Kent showing up to Christmas dinner with his client as his date.
Kent spits out a laugh. “God, no. My parents are leaving for Paris on Sunday and my brothers will be in New York, so it’ll just be the two of us.” Stepping closer, he tugs my waist toward him, parting his mouth.
“And Dahlia,” I say.
He nudges his nose against mine. “Uh-uh, she’s leaving Monday to see her family in the States for four days. We’ll have the city to ourselves. What do you say?”
I stretch my arms over his shoulders. “I say it’s going to be a very merry Christmas.” He leans in to kiss me, and in that moment I feel like maybe it was more than just sex. We make plans to see each other on Sunday, and I manage to sneak out of the building without being stopped again.
On the ride home, I replay the day in my head, from Dahlia to the Christmas party. Then, my mind flashes with memories of being naked with Kent, like scenes from a movie. I swear, there were moments with him that felt like a slow-motion montage.
When I walk into my hotel room, the first thing I see is the huge display of purple roses on the table. And, even though he didn’t actually send them, it’s the one thing in the room that reminds me of him. I touch the soft petals and inhale the floral scent. My body is warm, still buzzing from the sex. This is the most satisfied and relaxed I’ve felt in a while. It’s too soon to tell what all of this means, but I have a feeling it’s going to be hard to part with him after our holiday rendezvous.
SIXTEEN
Kent
I can’t remember the last time a woman made my body tingle like that. It’s almost unnerving. That Liz is really something. I’ve never met a girl like her before. She’s the perfect mix of strength and softness. Not to mention she tastes amazing. I try to put it out of my mind as I take the lift back to the party. Every time I think about it, my dick gets hard. I almost can’t control it.
I find Dahlia in the crowd, showing off her ring to a group of women. As soon as she spots me, she excuses herself and hurries over, grinning from ear to ear.
“So . . .” She shimmies her shoulders. “Did you guys talk and stuff?”
I try to restrain my goofy grin. “Yes, Dahlia. We talked.”
Dahlia’s hands shoot up in the air. “Woohoo!”
My cheeks flush, and I feel like a teenager admitting I had sex for the first time. “Hey, do you think we can get out of here?”
She throws her head back. “Yes! I thought you’d never ask. I’ve been acting non-stop and it’s a little exhausting. Especially since you’re not here to field questions with me. You like to sail, right?”
I shake my head. “I’m not much of a sailor, why?”
Dahlia downs the rest of her red cocktail, and the color makes me think of Liz’s coat. “Well, I just told a bunch of people that we love to sail. So . . .”
I laugh. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s go.”
Back at my place, Dahlia and I both change into pajamas and sit on opposite ends of the sofa. She nurses a hot cup of tea, while I sip from a glass of cabernet.
“This was the weirdest day, right?” Dahlia says, shoving my leg with her foot.
“Yes,” I say, shaking my head. “In every way possible. This is the kind of shit you can’t make up. What are the odds that you would know Liz and reunite with her in my office? She wasn’t even supposed to be there. If you had come by ten minutes later, tonight wouldn’t have happened.”
“I think it’s fate. You two are meant to be in each other’s lives.”
I arch my brow. “You really believe in that kind of thing? Fate?”
“I think that if we’re meant for something, the universe will show it to us again and again until we finally open our eyes.” Her words trail off with her gaze, and she twists the teabag string in her fingers.
“You okay?” I ask.
She stares at the fireplace, her eyes glistening with the light of the flames. “Yeah, it’s Ryan. I just thought we were each other’s destinies. I still think about him every night before I go to sleep, and he’s the first thing that pops into my head when I wake up in the morning.”
My attention drifts. That sounds like me. Thinking about Liz before bed instead of keeping myself up at night thinking about work, and in the morning, waking up because I’m excited to see her. Uh-oh, does that mean I really am falling for her?
I realize suddenly that I haven’t heard a word Dahlia’s said in the last sixty seconds, but she doesn’t seem to notice as I tune back in.
“—but you gotta take a chance sometimes,” she says.
“A chance on what?”
She looks at me like I have the word idiot written across my forehead, backwards. “On love.”
“Dahlia, why do you keep talking about love? You just got your heart broken. Isn’t this whole love thing more trouble than it’s worth?”
“No,” she whines, slapping her hand down on the leather. “That’s what I’m trying to say. I have the best memories of Ryan, and I learn something really important about myself with each deep relationship I have.”
“What did you learn from him?”
“I learned that I deserve better than to come second. I miss Ryan so much. I think about him all the time. But if he’s not willing to make me feel like I’m the most important thing in his life, then he’s not the right guy for me. My guy is out there. Somewhere.”
I lift my glass. “Cheers to that.”
“Anyway.” Dahlia runs her fingers through her hair, flipping it to the other side of her head. “Are you going to tell me about why I’m here playing the future Mrs. Bonnaire?”
Whenever I hear the name, Mrs. Bonnaire, I think of my mother, but this time Liz pops in my mind. I shake it off. That’s weird.
“There are a lot of reasons,” I say, shifting on the sofa.
“Like . . .”
I exhale a big breath, realizing that this is the moment I bite the bullet and tell her everything. I owe her the truth, and after what she did for me tonight, I trust her with it too. “The main reason is because the firm is being sued by a client I dated. Sophia.”
Dahlia knits her brows. “Wait, is that the girl you took to Barcelona?”
I cock my head. “I told you about that?”
“Yeah. What’s she claiming?”
“Sexual harassment.” My stomach churns every time I have to say those words.
“Seriously?” Dahlia flashes a wide-eyed gawk. “I don’t believe that for a second. Why would she do that?”
I take a long drink of my red wine and smack my lips. “I have no idea.”
“Well, did you talk to her?”
I shake my head. “No. I don’t think it’s a good idea. Plus, I’m pretty sure the attorneys would advise against it. She’s conniving and manipulative. I just never thought she’d use it against me. We weren’t even together that long. Less than a month.”
“Hmm.” Dahlia taps her finger against her chin. “Do you think she just wants money?”
“I thought so at first, but she has plenty of cash. Unless something’s changed.”
“Then she’s obviously trying to hurt you,” Dahlia says, like she’s solved the mystery, and leans back onto the sofa.
“I know, but why?” My memory slips back to the time I spent with Sophia, trying to recall any telling signs of something I did to cause this.
“Well, did you hurt her? Emotionally, I mean.”
I shake my head. “I don’t think so. We weren’t exclusive. I never told her that I loved her, or made her any promises. It was just a fun fling.”
“Did you sleep, sorry, shag her sister or something. I’d want to sue a guy over that if I could.”
My gaze trails up to the high ceiling. “I don’t think so.” I really hope that’s not the case because I definitely wouldn’t do it on purpose. Sometimes I chat up the wrong woman. Like my future sister-in-law. I had no idea she was shagging my b
rother. Not to mention, I was a total ass to her. Maybe that’s why Sophia’s suing me. “Dahlia, was I a dick to you when we met in New York? Or ever?”
She leans her head into her shoulder with a soft smile. “No, you’ve always been great to me. Very chivalrous.”
Dahlia and I do our best to talk about other things but the conversation always leads back to Liz and Ryan—the people we wish we were with instead of each other. By the time I wish her goodnight and head off to bed, I know more about Ryan than I do about Dahlia, and she’s shared a few stories about Liz from “back in the day” as she calls it. I shut the lights off and crawl into bed.
Between the wine and the sex, my body is content and calm, and I’m certain that sleep will come easily. My thoughts drift to Liz, just as they have the past few nights, but tonight my thoughts are vivid, colored by the way she smells, the taste of her skin, the way she moves, and how she feels when she comes. Biting my lip, I grab my stiff rod. What I wouldn’t give to have her in my bed right now. Finally, I can’t take it anymore. And I can’t remember any of the reasons why I shouldn’t have her here. I dial her number, my blood rushing to the tip of my dick.
“Hello?” she answers in a sleepy voice.
Shit, I woke her up.
“Hey, sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
Liz yawns. “That’s okay. What’s up? Is this a booty call?”
With the guilt of waking her up, my hard-on isn’t as . . . hard. “Maybe, but I’ll let you go back to sleep. I should probably get to bed too. I’ve got a long day tomorrow.”
“Oh, yeah.” The sound of her quiet, cute voice brings a smile to my lips. “You told me. You have to be seen with Dahlia.” Do I hear a hint of jealousy in her voice?
“Yep, though I’m not sure how it’s going to go. I get the impression that Dahlia isn’t as keen on acting in real life.”
“Too bad she can’t put it on her resume.”
I chuckle. “Right. We talked about you tonight.”
“Oh?” She drags out the word. “What about?”
“Just that you’re the best. But I already knew that. After tonight, I may know it better than she does.”
Liz laughs. “Dahlia’s pretty great herself. I’ve missed her.” Her voice takes a sad tone. The only thing she said is that Liz moved away and they never talked again after that.
“How come you didn’t stay in touch?” Even I stayed in touch with Dahlia, and I don’t have women friends.
A sigh echoes through the phone. “Friendships are not my strong suit. Or relationships in general. I tend to prioritize work over everything else.”
“Me too. Well, I was close with my little brother. We don’t talk as much since he moved to the States. I just don’t make time. Do you think people like us are just built that way?”
“Yeah, maybe. You and I are all about getting to the next level, no matter what it takes.” I would love to get to the next level with her. “Even if it means casting people aside.”
Maybe it’s the wine or the fact that I’ve allowed myself to open up tonight, but her words spark an epiphany. That’s what my dad does, casts people aside to get to the next level. That’s why my brothers and I hardly saw him, the reason he’s torturing me right now. Deep down, I’ve known that we weren’t his top priority, that we didn’t matter as much, but it never occurred to me that I would mimic his behavior. I may want my dad’s job, but I don’t want to be him. And right now, I vow that I won’t be.
I let Liz off the phone and settle into bed for a very restless night.
The next morning, I wake up with a raging hard-on and my mind floods with images of Liz’s naked body. I send her a quick text.
KENT: Good morning, beautiful . . .
LIZ: :) Good morning. Hope you’re ready for your big show today.
I groan at the idea of pretending to be madly in love with Dahlia.
After breakfast, Dahlia and I hit up the luxury shops in the morning for some Christmas shopping. She offers to help me pick out something for Liz, but I decline, wanting to go with my gut on this one. We pass my future sister-in-law’s lingerie boutique. I peer through the window at the crowd of women browsing her store. Business seems to be going well. Maybe I should’ve invested in her company. Just as I’m about to walk off, I notice a Santa-style teddy in the window. For a split second, I think about getting it for Liz to wear during our holiday together.
KENT: What do you think about Santa lingerie? Just saw one at Kate Golden Lingerie that you would look phenomenal in.
LIZ: Ho, ho, ho! Are you buying me lingerie?
KENT: Maybe . . . it’s the gift that keeps on giving.
LIZ: I think you mean the gift that keeps you coming . . .
I bite my knuckle. “Mmm!”
***
After a major shopping spree, we meet my parents for lunch, or should I say endure my parents for lunch. Today, I’m even angrier with my dad. It doesn’t help that he keeps shooting me stern looks. For a second, I’m almost sure he’s going to say that he knows about Liz and me. On the other hand, he’s very polite to Dahlia. So is my mum. She and Dahlia are in their own world, and I have no desire to engage with my dad, so I use the time to catch up on some work. My inbox seems to be at max capacity. With everything going on this week, I’m pretty behind at the office.
“Kent, please put your phone away!” Mum calls out, smacking my arm. She turns to Dahlia. “Doesn’t that drive you mad when he does that?”
Dahlia shrugs with a look that says “I could care less.” Mum seems appalled by this response until it finally clicks for her.
“Oh, right,” Mum says, “I keep forgetting that you two are um . . .”
“That’s right, Immy,” Dad says. “It doesn’t look like Kent will be giving you grandchildren anytime soon.” He shoots me a snide glance.
Mum’s shoulders droop along with her bright expression. “It’s true. I was really counting on Mick and Davina. But maybe Drew and Kate will get pregnant sooner than later.”
“After the wedding, of course,” Dad interjects.
“Well,” I start, placing my napkin on the table, “we have to be going. Thanks for lunch.”
Dahlia gives a relieved sigh and follows my lead. I shake my dad’s hand and kiss my mum on her cheek.
“Happy Christmas, darling,” Mum says.
“Happy Christmas. Have a good time in France.” We wave goodbye and head out of there. The moment we’re gone, I sigh deeply and then inhale a long drag of fresh air.
“I see what you mean about your dad,” Dahlia says, getting into my car. “He doesn’t seem like a happy guy.”
“He’s not.” I stare out the windshield and take off.
“I guess money doesn’t buy happiness, huh?”
I smirk cynically thinking of everything Dad substitutes with money. “Nope, but it will buy you a trunk load of Christmas presents.”
Dahlia and I head back to my place for some rest. She sits on the floor of the living room, wrapping gifts and watching American Christmas movies on TV, while I shut myself in my home office to get a few things done. With every email, my list of to-dos gets longer and longer.
LIZ: How goes the show?
KENT: We’re on a break. I’m getting some work done.
LIZ: Same.
KENT: Are you as behind on stuff as me?
LIZ: I don’t know, but the time difference and all the drama from this week hasn’t helped. Trying to get done before Christmas.
KENT: Same. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow. All of you.
LIZ: Me too.
SEVENTEEN
Liz
I hop out of bed like it’s Christmas morning. Today, I get to see Kent. We actually get to run into each other on purpose and not for work. I haven’t been this excited since my last company sold.
Spending some time in the tub, I make sure my body is smooth. Everywhere. I opt for my sexy knit dress with thigh-high suede boots. My phone rings as I’m swiping my lashes wit
h mascara. It’s Kent.
“Well, hello,” I say in my playfully sultry voice.
“Hello, have you missed me?”
I giggle. “Maybe . . . but I don’t have to miss you much longer. When are we meeting today?”
He lets out a sigh. “Actually, that’s why I’m calling. I’m really sorry, but I need to take care of a few things at the office.” What? Work? Dammit, I put on my best thong and everything. “But don’t worry. I’ve got something on the way to you now to keep you busy until later.”
“What are you talking about?” I step over to my door and peek through the peephole.
“You’ll see. I have to run, but I’ll see you this evening.”
I end the call with Kent and not two seconds later, there’s a knock at my door. I open it, hoping that he’s just a jokester and he’s standing on the other side with wine and condoms. But instead, it’s Dahlia with a ridiculous brunch spread.
“Room service!” She smiles and the bellhop who saw my ass pushes the cart in the room. Dahlia gives me a hug. “Look, I know you’re disappointed that I’m not Kent, but I’m glad he had to work. Now you and I can catch up.”
The bellhop leaves, this time not mentioning anything about a tip. I shut the door and turn to my friend. “What’d you bring?” I ask, looking at the tray with silver plate covers, coffee, juice, champagne, and a skinny vase with sprigs of holly.
“Everything!” Dahlia begins to uncover each of the plates. The smell of breakfast sausage, eggs, and biscuits fills the room. My stomach grumbles. I was so excited to see Kent that I completely forgot about breakfast. She grabs a slice of bacon and gawks at me. “Girl, look at those boots! You look hot!”
I plop on the sofa in the middle of the room and unzip my seductress shoes, checking out Dahlia’s much more relaxed look of denim jeans and a knit sweater. “Do you mind if I change?”
With her mouth full of meat, she utters, “Not at all.”
I hang up my dress and slip into my leggings, a hoodie, and fuzzy socks with my hair in a messy bun. Dahlia’s at the table pouring coffee and serving herself a plate.
“I hope you’re hungry,” she says, handing me a cup of coffee, and I accept the brew. “This is awesome. I don’t know why, but having you here makes me feel less homesick.”
