by W. Ferraro
“I was hoping you would say that. I’m drafting you to be right beside me, not only through the preparation process, but at the dinner and tour. So be prepared. Oh goodness, my head is spinning, there is so much to do and plan.” Aimee went back to her chair and started scribbling like a mad woman.
“Anything you need, I swear.” Lola promised. The two friends chatted for a couple of minutes when Lola told her about David’s call. Aimee had already planned on bringing Boyd home after the center closed.
“No problem. Boyd and I had plans for a Harry Potter marathon tonight. But you know Lola, with this just springing up, I’m probably going to be here really late getting things going…” Aimee stopped, as she looked up at Lola’s beautiful face.
“Oh, no! No way, there is absolutely no reason for him to be here partying like a rock star.” But even as the answer left Lola’s mouth, she knew she had lost. “Fine!”
Aimee jumped up from her chair and ran around her desk throwing her hands around Lola’s neck. With a quick kiss on Lola’s cheek, Aimee stuck her blonde head out her office door and called for Boyd, who was currently in the arcade, just across the hall.
“Guess what, Boyd!?! Your sister gave us permission to move the Harry Potter marathon to the media room. We’re going to do it slumber party style, Boyd!” The sounds of euphoria that came from not only Boyd, but some of the other kids as well, was enough to fill Lola’s heart with joy. He truly loved it here, and when he was here, she never worried about him. With many hugs, Boyd and Aimee let Lola head out to start her shift at the Hawthorne for its opening Gala.
“Lola! What the hell was that about?” David Rafferty demanded, as he barreled through the kitchen, finding his target.
Well, that must be a record! Didn’t take long for that incident to work its way down the perpetual grape vine.
She was leaning her shoulder against the wall, with her back toward him. The fact that she didn’t turn around to face him, only increased his irritation. “Do you have any idea who you were so completely rude to out there?”
Why, yes I do. His name is Wes, aka Adonis, and he is a founding member of a BDSM club called Olympus. The question is, why do YOU know who he is?
Lola’s heart still felt like it was going to beat out of her chest, regardless that it had been at least five minutes since she left her post at the bar. It was her erratic heartbeat she was concentrating on, rather than the arousal coursing through her. She has never had such a reaction to a man. What is it about him? She has seen him three times, spoken maybe a couple dozen words, why does it feel like she is a magnet being pulled when he is near? Thinking back to what she said to him minutes earlier, she cringed.
Anything else, sir?
Said in almost a purr, like she has done time and time again in her dreams; those erotic dreams that he had headlined repeatedly. Those secret unconscious moments of pleasure, when her mind gives into her desire to please him, to satisfy him, to be enough to fulfill his colossal carnal drive.
Then the way his eyes widened when she said it. Could anything else be worse? The blue depths trimmed in light brown lashes that looked soft and full. She saw how the action lessened the slight wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. One of those kind of markings that look sexy on a man but a sign of war on a woman. She needed to stop thinking about him. Didn’t she just tell him to leave her alone? Didn’t she just ax any sort of advance he would make? He couldn’t be confused at her words.
“Look, you apparently have me confused with someone else. If you think your money impresses me, what can I say, I’m not a diamond or top shelf kind of girl. I’m more the mood ring or house brand. Now, if there isn’t anything else I can get you from the bar, I have a job to do, which does NOT include mingling with the guests. Please, let me take the next guest in line, unless you need a refill on your HIGH END Scotch?”
“Lola, I’m talking to you!” David’s voice brought her back to her current location. She turned to face the man. It always struck her as funny that the Hawthorne would hire someone like David, as the banquet manager. But, if you were married to the general manager’s daughter, landing the position was probably quite easy. He stood there trying to seem intimidating as he crossed his arms in his two sizes too small navy blue suit coat. The fact that he was peering at her through outdated thick black glasses, along with a flyaway comb-over, made it difficult to focus on his words.
When she continued to remain mute, David’s annoyance skyrocketed.
“That was Wes Thompson, the Vice President and lead architect in the design of this establishment. Do you have any idea the implications of embarrassment you brought on to Mr. Dwyer? Your insubordination and outright break in employee-tolerated behavior is unacceptable. I have no choice but to fire you. Go see Diane, and pick up your final check.” He held out his hand, expecting her to take his word as law and politely put her employee badge in it.
You’ve got to be kidding me! Fired for telling a man that she was not interested in becoming an acquisition or a passing of time. He was mistaken if he thought she was going to get teary eyed. She would not defend herself or plead for her job, or give him the satisfaction of compliancy.
“Well fuck you very much, David. Hope you and your snitch, whoever it was, has a super fantastic night.” She walked by him with her head held high and dropped her badge at his feet.
Twenty minutes later, she was climbing into her jeep, and emptying her pockets with the few tips she had received. The fifty-dollar bill caught her attention as it laid on top. “Son of a bitch! He really thinks he is a God!” Without thinking twice, she climbed back out of the jeep, leaned over, placing the bill under the passenger windshield wiper of the car parked next to her. Whoever’s car it was, just received a special surprise thanks to a man named, Wes Thompson. Lola climbed back into the driver’s seat, and happily drove off toward her couch and the restless night’s sleep that was waiting for her.
“That was amazing!” The brunette said, from the other side of the bed as she looked at the strong back and delectable backside that was currently bending over to retrieve his pants on the floor next to the bed. When no response came. “Is there a problem, Wes?” she said annoyed and used.
He couldn’t help but roll his eyes. What did she want, pillow talk? Didn’t work that way. He was sure to tell her beforehand what he needed and his terms for it. Did she not know him enough by now to not expect the annoyingly insisted upon requirement of chitchat after sex.
“No problem, Trudy. I’m just going to get dressed and get back downstairs,” Wes said, as he pulled his pants up and fastened them before walking over to the wing chair where his tuxedo shirt landed.
“What’s the rush? Why don’t you come back to bed and see if I can arouse you enough for another round.” Her voice was a little too high as she offered what she must have thought, was a wonderful idea.
“Not this time, Trudy. But, the suite is paid for the night. Make yourself at home,” he answered, while efficiently knotting his tie with much learned finesse and slipping on his tuxedo coat.
Without another word, he walked toward the door, and went through it. As he made his way to the elevators, his eyes were transfixed on the black, white and gray asymmetrical patterned carpeting. He chuckled to himself thinking, how ugly he thought it was when Howard Dwyer picked it out to line his multimillion-dollar hotel. But, who was he to say anything, he just turned the man’s vision into a steel structure.
When the elevator dinged, he entered, looking at the mirror on the far wall. He stared at his reflection, answering the question burning in his eyes. Why wasn’t it Lola Nash under him rather than Trudy? What was it about the exotic beauty that had him willingly taking any bed partner to alleviate the desire she struck in him. He was a man that disciplined himself on his control of gratification, specifically the sexual natured ones. But, one look from the cat eyed woman had him reacting like a raging teenage boy.
He replayed their brief conversation in his head. There
was no denying the irritation she had towards him, but why? How had he wronged her? He made it a point to treat any woman with the utmost respect, regardless of his taste between the sheets. It unsettled him, to be truthful, but he gave her his word that he would leave her alone. At least for the time being, anyway, he thought. Just like the buildings, he brought to life from his drawings, which are filled with facades for optimal visual stimulation. He planned to discover all of Lola’s depths and secrets, which she had hidden behind her self-made walls. He rubbed his hands in anticipation, and ignored the throb behind his zipper that he was damn sure wouldn’t be going away anytime soon.
“Relax, Aimee. You have thought of everything, it is going to be great!” Lola said, trying to calm her friend down, before Aimee wore a hole through the carpet of her office from all of her pacing.
Today was the day that executives from DiLorenzo & Associates were coming for their walk around. They were coming for an informal meeting to discuss Aimee’s plans for Aaron’s Place growth. Thanks to the wonderful work of Mrs. Cooper, Aaron’s Place sat on fifty-seven acres of pristine Vermont land. Aimee’s and ultimately the foundations plans for expansion, was really the original dream of its founder. Aimee just brought it to fruition.
These last few months, Lola has watched Aimee and the rest of the team at the center, work themselves to the bone, making sure everything was in place to not disrupt any of the current facilities activities. She made sure every “i” was dotted and every “t” crossed. It all came down to this meeting, the first in a series.
“I’m just so nervous. I have a horrible feeling that I forgot something,” Aimee said as her French manicured fingers quickly shuffled through her paperwork for the twentieth time.
“You didn’t, you thought of everything!” Lola said, knowing it was true. Lola walked over and rubbed tiny circles on Aimee’s back, hoping the contact would calm her. Lola had never seen the usual, cool, calm and collective Aimee so frazzled.
“Aimee, they’re here.” Jerry, Aaron’s Place Assistant Director, said from his desk outside Aimee’s office.
“Come on, deep breath. You got this, Aimee. I’ll be right there next to you.”
“What would I, or this place, do without you, Lola?” Aimee gave her friend a tight hug and then gave her head a little shake, took a deep breath and grabbed the copies of the written proposal. “Okay, there is coffee, tea and water in the fridge in the mess hall. Oh, and could you, bring in the small box of muffins that are the counter next to the fridge, too?”
“No problem. Go on, bring them into the conference room and I’ll be along in a moment with the refreshments.” Lola said, as she gave Aimee a gentle push toward the door and her guests.
Lola walked down the hall and around the corner to where the mess hall was. She quickly grabbed the large tray that was kept on top of the refrigerator. Placing the bottles of water and goodie box on it, she went about making the coffee and tea. While they each brewed, she busied herself with cleaning up the dishes that were in the sink. She filled the carafes, making sure the cream and milk pitchers were filled, and headed off toward the meeting.
“Ms. Amico. I’m Matt Travis, Senior Vice President, for DiLorenzo & Associates. This is Adam Philips, our Business Manager and Wes Thompson, Vice President of Commercial Design. Wes’ team will hopefully be your architectural team. Even though he won’t have his fingers in it, per say, he is the best,” Matt said, enjoying the beauty of Aimee Amico. Being here, at this meeting was going to be no hardship at all; getting to look at such eye candy was just the icing on the cake. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, face to face, finally. We look forward to working together to get this great foundation expanded, to help that many more kids.” He finished, as he took her small hand between his two larger ones.
Oh my! Matt Travis looked just as gorgeous as she had envisioned, after hearing his voice over the phone. Not that any of the three were uneasy on the eyes, but Aimee had a soft spot for tall, dark and gorgeous. The nervousness in her stomach increased but this time for an entirely different reason.
“You, as well. Please gentlemen, follow me. I thought we could go through the proposal over some refreshments, then head on over to the desired location.” Aimee said, as she led the way to the conference room.
Aimee and Jerry waited for their guests to take their seats, before taking their own. Perfectly timed, Lola came in carrying the tray. She skillfully and elegantly placed the tray on the credenza, and then started to set up the contents on the table for easy accessibility. She was just placing the ceramic coffee mugs on the table, when she caught sight of the person sitting closest to her. She felt all the oxygen leave her lungs as she, was once again caught, in an all too familiar blue gaze. She dropped the mugs, causing one to break, ultimately resulting in a few chipped pieces of burgundy ceramic landing in his lap.
Realizing she needed to say something, “Oh, I’m so sorry, sir.” She said, unable to pull her gaze away from the blue depths. Her words caused a reaction once again. The blue pools widened, before quickly recovering.
“It’s quite alright.” He said, aware of the audience that was watching the interaction. He picked at the pieces in his lap, stood and carried them over to the receptacle. He watched as Lola quickly cleaned up the mess on the table, and listened as her raspy voice muttered apology after apology.
“No worries, Lola. You gave us the perfect icebreaker.” Aimee said, as smiles filled the faces around the table. Lola purposely avoided looking across the table again. “Gentleman, this is Lola Nash. She is our top volunteer here at Aaron’s Place and a very important part of our family. I’ve asked her to join us, rounding out Aaron’s Place representation.”
Wes was unable to draw his eyes away from the woman who had become the focal point of most of his idle thoughts and time. He watched as she sat across from him, successfully averting her eyes from him. For the life of him, he tried to listen to the meeting, but he just couldn’t help but look towards Lola every few minutes. Her position in the chair was stiff and rigid. With her head turned toward the front of the room, where Aimee Amico sat and drove the meeting, gave Wes the opportunity to study Lola’s profile. Her long black hair was down, hanging in onyx layers that looked soft as silk. She kept tucking her hair behind her ear, which not only exposed a small lobe with delicate silver hoops, but also a gorgeously long neck. Wes was entranced at how the smooth stem showed the intricate work of muscles beneath. He watched as those smooth muscles completed a task as normal as swallowing a mouthful of water. Her upper body, which could be seen above the table vibrated rapidly. Assuming if he looked under the table he would see her foot bouncing at the same beat. He smiled as he continued to appreciate the incredible result. His eyes focused on the quiver of her full breasts beneath her steel blue V-neck lightweight sweater. He could see the tight bud underneath, poking out from the thin material. Wes couldn’t help but wonder how responsive she would be to nipple play. Has she ever been clamped before?
As if she could hear his mental question, she turned to him and unlike before, did not stray when their eyes connected. God, her eyes were beautiful. The beauty did not come from the heavily made up cosmetic effect, but her steel gray coloring was so unusual, yet looked perfect on her. The dark outline, tipped up at the end giving a dramatic effect. Her coated lashes looked long and perfectly wisped and curled. Wes wasn’t normally so familiar with women’s makeup preferences, but since it had to do with Lola Nash, he found it was just another aspect of the enigma who was the beautiful creature across from him.
Aimee’s voice brought Lola’s attention away from him, once again. “That rounds out the proposal. Now if you would like, we can head out to the site location.”
With a collective agreement, people rose and headed toward the door, all except Wes. Lola started cleaning up to bring the tray back to the mess hall.
“Lola, how nice it is to see you again.” Wes said, keeping his voice low and intimate.
Lola was aw
are the indescribably sexy man, hadn’t vacated the room yet. She thought she was going to go into cardiac arrest when she saw him sitting at the table. She couldn’t for the life of her figure out who she pissed off enough to place such a curse on herself. Would these unexpected run-ins with this man ever cease? While she sat and listened to Aimee’s speech, she could not help but feel his eyes on her. The conceited bastard gave up trying to hide his attention toward the end. She knew from her peripheral vision that he spent more time looking at her than he did looking at anything else. Nonetheless, it was her feelings his presence caused, that was truly what had her uneasy. The more she tried to focus on anything other than this man, the more her body reminded her he was but four feet away from her. He sat in such a position, with his right elbow leaning on the arm of the chair, distinguishably holding his face between his spread fingers along his cheek and his thumb at his chin. While his other long, tanned hand stretched out on the table in front of him, toward her, as if breaking the distance, toyed with a pen. He twirled the relatively inexpensive pen between his fingers, bringing thoughts of his dexterity abilities to her mind.
“Is it?” Lola asked, unable to keep the sarcasm from her voice. She continued to place everything on the trays, but she knew he was staring at her. He rose and stepped closer to her. Not that she couldn’t smell him before, but now, she could taste his heavy scent. She never thought anything smelled as good as Adonis did. Stop it Lola! He is not a God. He is flesh and blood, and he is Wes fucking Thompson! But, even that thought, backfired terribly, when she started thinking of all his flesh, especially the flesh that was behind those golden drawstring pants. She couldn’t get those images out of her mind.
Knowing they only had another minute before someone came to gather them, Wes crowded her further, until there was but only an inch separating them, and easily took the opening offered to him.
