by JA Low
Once I post the photo the timeline refreshes and I hadn’t realised I was still following Toby. Staring back at me on my feed is a photo of him with a blonde, kissing on a carriage ride in Central Park. He looks bloody happy. They both do. The image is a direct arrow to my already broken heart. I take a big gulp of my wine to ease my nerves. Then I scroll to the next image and it’s a picture of the two of them together at the airport, she’s kissing his cheek. The caption reads, I’ve missed my girl, so great to finally be together. “Bloody wanker,” I curse at my phone; I then proceed to neck the bottle of wine. I stare at the image of the girl on the screen who has been sleeping with my boyfriend all these months. Of course the alcohol makes me start comparing myself to her. We are total opposites. She’s this tall, tanned, blonde, big boobed — totally fake — Barbie doll, who’s wearing designer clothes. Her hair is perfect and make-up applied like a damn professional. Then there’s me. A short ass, with strawberry blonde hair, skin that looks like it hasn’t seen sun since birth it’s so white. I have pancake tits that might just make a handful if I’m lucky. I hardly wear make-up and my clothes are more high street than designer. Now I’m on a roll. I take another swig from my bottle of wine and click on her name and start scrolling through her photos. Thank God it’s not on private. So many photos of the two of them together doing all these touristy things in New York, smiling, looking happy and carefree when in reality they are cheating assholes. I keep scrolling, like I’m going to stop now. Then I see the images of them in Aruba. He fucking took her on holiday while I was at home missing my boyfriend. What a fucking scumbag. Wanker. Tosspot. “Fuck you, Toby Masters. Fuck you,” I curse at my phone.
My night turns kind of blurry after that as I finish the bottle of wine and devour the ridiculous amount of cheese and meat for one tiny human. I’m drunk. And it’s hot. I keep staring at the glistening blue pool before me, tempting me take a dip in its cool waters. Like I said, I’m drunk, so deciding to jump in under the moonlight seems like the best plan ever. I really can’t be bothered going upstairs to grab my bathers so I strip off to my underwear and jump into the pool, letting the cool water sober me up and refresh me, maybe even baptise me. It feels amazing. This is the last time that I am ever going to think about that douche canoe Toby Masters and his Barbie doll ever again. I’m in the South of France motherfuckers, and working for an uber-awesome artist. This beats selling magnets to tourists back in London.
My body finally turns into a prune after spending time lazily swimming in the cool water, I feel like I have shed my old life like dead skin. I’m ready to welcome a new future, a future I have no idea where it will lead me, but it has to be better than where I have come from. I slowly get out of the pool, unsteadily making my way up the stairs. Luckily the early summer breeze is still warm as I stand in my underwear, which is completely see-through, wondering where the bloody towels are. Then I notice a man standing in front of me. I scream with surprise, I thought I was alone.
5
Louis
I should be looking away as the water drips over her near naked body. It’s the gentlemanly thing to do. As if you’re a gentleman, Louis. But I can’t. Not when her innocently white underwear is completely see-through. This is apparently my new assistant and I’m drunk. Not like that is a surprise to anyone. The bottle of tequila sits loosely in my hand, but I watch in utter fascination as she emerges from the pool like some majestic siren of the sea, my fingers grip the bottle tighter. I wonder what she would taste like. Is she as innocent as she looks? The thin material clings to her lithe body. Water droplets fall down her chest, running over her hard nipples. I bite my lip as the blood begins to travel south. Her breasts are small and pert with the most perfect blush pink nipples. The colour reminding me of the roses that grow up along the wall beside the pool, they release the sweetest of perfume in the summer. Would she smell as sweet? I follow another droplet down her torso until it disappears into her underwear. I silently groan as I notice a dark line underneath the sheer material, a line I want to run my tongue along as my head is buried between her creamy thighs. Those long fingers of hers gripping my hair, urging me to suck her bud harder, almost pulling my hair from my scalp as she thrashes about underneath me, taking every last bit of her orgasm from her sated body. My dick twitches, hardening with each dirty thought that crosses my depraved mind.
Her face turns to me, bright green eyes hold me with their surprised gaze, hair the colour of spun gold frames her petite face. Her eyes widen and she lets out a scream pulling me back to the situation.
“What the hell do you think you are you doing?” My words come out harsh as my body is tense from need, a need that needs to be sated.
“I...I…” The woman stumbles over her excuse as she tries and hides her near naked body. Closing my eyes, I suck in a deep breath, count to three in my mind and turn on my heel, placing the bottle of tequila onto the table beside her empty bottle of wine and left over cheeses. Making my way over to the cupboards beside the pool, I pull out one of the white pool towels and throw it at her. It hits her in the face and I see it’s pissed her off.
“Dry yourself off.” My lip curls as I try and control the urges that are racing through my body. Those green eyes flare with fire, her creamy cheeks are burning red with humiliation as she wraps her body in the fluffy white towel
“I…” Her words start off on a whisper. “They said no one would be home.” But end with a snarky tone. She glares at me, pissed off that I have dared interrupt her alone time, in my own fucking house.
“This is my house. I can come and go as I please.” I defend myself. My words are curt, I’m drunk, my body is humming with tension, I need to move away from her. Now. Before I grab her and fuck her wildly by the edge of the pool. I never knew how much pent up tension I had until I came home to a near naked woman in my pool.
“Yes, of course.” She stands up straighter. “I just…Daniel said…” My eyes narrow, hearing her talk about my brother makes my heart beat faster. Did he touch her? I bet he was flirtatious with her? Did he bring her here for him? Does she want him? Why do I care? What the hell is wrong with me?
“Did he tell you it was okay to swim naked in my pool?” I stare at her, my lip curling in anger. Those emerald eyes flaring with anger once again. Good it’s better than the puppy dog eyes I normally get from women.
“He told me to make myself at home.” Her words are short.
“I guess you did that.” I look her up and down. “Were you waiting for him to return? Were you hoping to seduce him? Cause you’re not the first employee to have tried that with him.” Her mouth opens in shock at my statement, but I notice how pink her cheeks have turned. Of course she thinks Daniel is handsome, most women do. We are total opposites, he is all dark features, with a bright personality whereas I have light features and a dark personality, complete opposites even though we are related.
“Of course not.” Those eyes shooting red hot daggers at me, and honestly I’m enjoying seeing her so angry.
“Then was this little set up for me then?” Her cheeks redden. I know what I do to the opposite sex, the appeal I have on them. “Did he ask you to seduce me?” Her eyes widen in shock.
“Of course not,” she quickly answers.
“Did he offer you a nice little bonus to help fuck me back into greatness.”
“What? No!” Her voice rising.
“Good. Because this little display is pathetic.” My words hitting their target. Her shoulders sink for a nanosecond. I feel bad, I feel like a despicable human being. An apology is on the tip of my tongue, but it’s been so long since I’ve had to apologise for my behaviour the words stick in my throat. She takes a couple of steps toward me, her back straight again.
“And yet it was able to make you rise to the occasion.” Her eyes flicking to my jeans, the very hard indent of my dick giving it all away. My nostrils flare with anger. I look back up at her, she has a satisfied smirk across her face.
“Clean yo
urself up. It’s embarrassing.” My words don’t make a dent in her armour, instead she gives me a salute. I guess the polite version of fuck you if there ever was one. Turning on her heels she grabs her phone off the table, leaving the wine and cheese there. Who does she think is going to clean up this mess? Certainly not me. She saunters away as if she hasn’t a care in the world. Once she is out of sight I pull out my phone and call Daniel.
“What the fuck?” I scream down the line before he even gets a chance to answer properly.
“Where the hell are you?”
“I’m at home.”
“You’re not in Paris. Your bags were gone when I got to the apartment.”
“No shit. Did you seriously think I was going to let you leave some stranger in my home for the night?” I stomp through the house; then one by one I angrily take the stairs up to my suite.
“I vetted her. She’s trustworthy,” Daniel argues.
“So trustworthy that I found her naked in my pool.” He goes silent. I pull it away from my ear to make sure that he is still there. Then he bursts out laughing.
“Fuck you, asshole. This isn’t funny.” But he won’t stop laughing. I wait a couple of moments for him to calm down. “You finished?”
“Yes.” He chuckles a little longer. “So…she was naked, hey?” I let out a deep sigh.
“Her underwear was see-through.” Daniel lets out a tiny groan. “Seriously?” Of course he thinks she’s hot, any man would.
“Louis, you can’t tell me the girl is not beautiful?” His question requires no comment. “Fine.” He chuckles. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
“Daniel.” My voice deepens with anger.
“No, Louis. You listen to me. Emily graduated with an arts history degree, she speaks French and she is perfect for the job. The fact that she is also beautiful is a bonus.”
“I’m not going to sleep with her. I don’t need my brother finding me women. I don’t have any trouble finding my own.”
“Good, because I didn’t hire her for you to sleep with. She is there as your assistant, and only to assist you with your art, nothing more.” I grumble at his comments. “Maybe when the summer is over I might ask her out if you're not interested.” My body stills.
“You?”
“Yes. I think she’s beautiful, she loves art, she knows a lot about it. She passed my knowledge test easily, she’s funny and intelligent. She’s the kind of girl I’ve been searching for.” Daniel hired her for him?
“I’m glad my predicament could be of service for your dating life,” I groan which makes him laugh.
“It’s not like you're interested, so when you’re done with her, she can come and help me. I really do need an assistant.” What the hell has gotten into Daniel?
“Whatever,” I grumble, which makes him laugh.
“Emily will be a great assistant. This one tiny transgression shouldn't be held against her. I did tell her she had the place to herself, you were not supposed to have been there until tomorrow when I brought you.”
“It’s my house.”
“I know, but she didn’t know you would come barging into the house.”
“She was swimming naked in my pool.”
“In her underwear. It’s probably a beautiful night down there. Don’t tell me you don’t just strip off and jump into the pool.” Silence falls between us because he’s right, I do. “Just forget about tonight and start new in the morning. She’s…had a rough time recently.” This piques my interest. “No, I am not going to tell you about it either. You are going have to have to make an effort with this woman.”
“I don’t need to make an effort to get to know her, she’s just my assistant.” Daniel sighs.
“Just be nice.”
“I’m always nice.” This makes him laugh.
“Old Louis, yes, new Louis, no.”
“Then she will just have to deal with the new one then, and if she can’t she can go back to where she came from.” Another exhausted sigh from my brother.
“Just let her do her job and don’t be a dick.”
“Whatever, she better do her job or she’s gone. I don’t care how much you want in her panties.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Daniel tells me as I hang up on him. I flip him off, throwing my phone onto my bed.
I lie down on my bed and stare at the ceiling, my mind a jumble of images. My body is restless. My dick needs to be sucked and most definitely not by my new assistant no matter how much those perfect pink lips are begging to be wrapped around my cock. No. I need some no strings attached fun. I turn and look at my phone and an idea brews. I think my assistant needs a little welcome party to get her used to the Louis Marchant experience.
6
Emily
Louis Marchant is an asshole.
A hot asshole. Shut up hormones, this does not concern you.
I’m still fuming about my run in with him as I get out of the shower.
How dare he think I am here to seduce him. What kind of woman does he think I am?
You were standing there pretty much naked in his home. Shut up, conscience, no one asked you. Ugh, this is not the best start to your new job or life, Emily.
I put on my black sleep shorts and pink singlet with a little more vigour than I normally would. This is all Toby’s fault, running around New York taking selfies with his blonde bimbo as if the last five years didn’t mean a thing to him. That I didn’t mean a thing to him. A hiccup of an emotion clogs my throat for a moment.
Enough Emily! You are a grown ass woman. As much as you want to blame Toby for tonight, it wasn’t his fault. You had a bottle of wine and thought you were alone so you could enjoy the pool. If it’s anyone’s fault it’s his, Louis Marchant. He wasn’t even supposed to be here tonight. He was supposed to be arriving with Daniel tomorrow. Why the hell was he here? Did he not trust me? I’m a really trustworthy person. Would you trust some stranger in your home? Shut up brain, I don’t like your logic; it’s making too much sense. Fine, I was a stranger in his home while he was away. I get the man has trust issues, who wouldn’t after all he has been through? It was just a bad introduction, the man was probably drunk, he was carrying a bottle of something in his hand, and he did sway a little. I’ve read the gossip magazines; the man’s a drunk. I let out a heavy sigh. Tomorrow is a new day. I need to forget about what happened tonight and hope that Louis is drunk enough that he doesn’t remember anything. Fingers crossed. I am going to be the best assistant Louis Marchant has ever had. Anything he throws at me I will take with a smile on my face. He can’t rattle me with his grumpy demeanour or his mean words. They are all going to flow off me like water off a duck’s back. Standing up a little straighter, I give myself the ultimate pep talk. Tomorrow, I’m going to wake up with a smile on my face, a spring in my step. I’m going to be so professional that Louis Marchant will have nothing to ever complain about me ever again.
I’m woken up by music. Loud music. My room is rattling. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes I pick up my phone and see that it’s 2:37am. I hear splashing and giggling outside. What the hell is going on? Kicking off my sheets, I make my way over to the French doors. Opening them I’m hit by a sonic boom of sound. It looks like a rap video is being filmed below me. I peer over the edge of the balcony into the pool. There are women everywhere. Gorgeous women sitting around in next to nothing. Did I stumble into fashion week or something because everyone looks like a damn supermodel, prancing around the pool as if they are walking the runaway. A champagne cork pops and the girls squeal and giggle at the sound. Their fake laughter is like nails down a chalkboard to my ears. How did all these people get into the house? Should I call Daniel? Should I call the police? Who shuts down illegal parties like this? Panic grips me. I am totally screwing up this assistant thing. Then I notice Louis lazing on a daybed, looking like a king. Women pandering to him, desperately trying to get his attention. The guy is a douche ladies, have some self-respect. I realise he’s staring at me. Is he trying
to intimidate me? Is this some kind of payback for my late night swim in his pool? Is he seriously this childish? I’m not looking away, Louis Marchant. You can try and push me to the edge but I’m not going anywhere. You have no idea how desperate I am to keep this job, so give it your best shot, but I am not leaving. I raise a brow at him. Daring him. Pushing him to give me his best shot. He looks away for a moment, his hand motioning for someone to come to him. One of the bikini clad women comes into view. I can’t hear what they are saying above the music, but I don’t have to know what words are exchanged because their actions make it pretty clear. The woman moves herself between his legs and the next thing I know her head is bobbing up and down. Is she seriously giving him a blow job in the middle of the party? Louis’ eyes catch mine again as his fingers sink into her hair forcing himself deeper down her throat. She is taking it like a champ. My cheeks heat up at the image. Louis’ eyes don’t leave mine, he gives me a “fuck you” smirk as he enjoys his blow job. What a fucking asshole. He’s trying to fuck with me. Well two can play at that game, Mr. Marchant. I quickly turn away and run back into my room, searching my desk for exactly what I need. Ripping a page out of my notebook, I scribble down on the piece of paper and walk back to the balcony. The performance has slowed down, what a shame. I lift up the bit of paper with the number 3.5, my score for the bullshit blow job he’s getting. His eyes widen, anger flashes across them. He yells something at the girl, pushing her off him. I watch as he tucks himself back into his board shorts and storms off.
Emily - 1
Louis - 0
“Good morning, Mademoiselle.” The male voice surprises me as I enter the kitchen. A gorgeous man dressed in a white chef’s outfit greets me. Seriously, is every man in France good looking?
