by Amy Brent
Me, shaking with an orgasm, his name on my lips.
Chapter 3
Steven
When I woke I was lying on my back, and my dick had pitched a tent over my hips of its own volition. I had a meeting in less than two hours, and there was no way I was going to sit through it with blue balls. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and padded to my bathroom, where I started the shower and brushed my teeth until the water was hot.
I stepped beneath the scalding water and let it hit my shoulders while I pumped conditioner into my palm. Then I gripped my shaft, which was still standing at attention, and began to slowly work my hand up and down the length of it.
Flashes of the girl from the club played behind my eyelids like a slideshow. I saw her clutching her breasts as she arched her back like an exotic dancer. I heard her shallow breaths of pleasure. I could feel her hot breath against my neck.
Then, quite suddenly, those flashes were replaced by something else. Allie in that tight black dress from the previous night—the one with the gold zipper up the side that followed the dramatic curve of her hip and slender waist. Allie’s long, raven colored hair and big round dark eyes. Allie’s breasts, round and perky, peeking out of the top of the open V-neck of that dress.
I came quickly and found myself leaning against one wall of my shower to catch my breath. Allie Wright had always been a girl who caught my eye. More than that, she had been the kind of girl to make me laugh. I caught myself smiling as the water continued to spray against my back and shoulders.
The office was bustling with activity. Upon my arrival, the receptionist, Sherry, looked up from her computer screen and gave me a brilliant white smile. “Good morning, Mr. Marx,” she chimed, tucking her strawberry blonde curls behind her ear. “Everyone is ready for you in the conference room.”
“Morning, Sherry, thank you.”
I was aware of her eyes on me as I walked around her desk and headed down the hall towards the conference room. I adjusted my suit jacket and took a deep, even breath in preparation for the meeting.
I had pitched my app idea to the company a few weeks ago, and they had recruited a board of investors for me to meet with today. If all went well during this meeting, things for me could change rather quickly. I knew the app had the potential to earn a lot of money, and I knew it was something worth pursuing. Somehow, I had to convince the investors of the same thing.
I walked into the conference room with confidence. I was greeted by friendly smiles from the ten men and four women in the room. They appeared to have all been waiting patiently. They all had a cup of coffee in front of them, as well as notebooks, laptops, pens, and their phones.
I took my seat next to the only familiar face in the room, Roy Kingston, and said hello to everyone. They said hello back, and Roy stood to make the introductions. Once everyone in the room was properly acquainted, I stood and assumed my position at the head of the table as Roy had instructed me to do last week when we ran through the meeting in a practice session. He gave me an encouraging nod before I began my pitch.
I walked the potential investors through the functions of the app while explaining to them the benefits it posed to consumers. “The public is your target demographic,” I said. “So having an app that caters to everyone, regardless of who they are, is a sure-fire way to put you on the path to success. Everyone has to go shopping. For some people, it’s every day. For others it might be every week, month, three months, what have you. With this app, they can track the items they want, locate which stores are offering it for the best price, and place the item on hold with a five dollar nonrefundable deposit. The deposit is how you get the buy-in from the retail companies.”
From there I proceeded to list off the names of companies that had already agreed to partner with me on this project. Roy had printed out lists of all the companies, and he handed them out to everyone at the table while I continued with the presentation.
By the time I was finished, my confidence was at an all-time high. Every single person in the room was smiling at me, and I was sure that I had at least fifty percent of their buy-ins.
When the meeting ended, everyone stayed behind to shake my hand. I thanked them all for their time and told them I was looking forward to hearing from them, as Roy had told me I should last week. He stood in the corner, watching approvingly, while I went through the motions of being a sophisticated businessman for the first time in my life. It seemed, much to my surprise, to be working seamlessly.
Soon it was just me and Roy in the room. He closed the door, turned back to me, and gave me two thumbs up.
“That couldn’t have gone any better,” he said excitedly, slapping me on the back. “Truly. I wouldn’t be surprised if you have at least eight of them telling you they want to invest. I’d give it less than a week.”
“Really?”
“Really. The app makes sense. Your proposal for how best to utilize it ties it all together. I’m telling you, this one is a winner. I don’t want to get your hopes too high, just in case, but I think you might have reason to celebrate.” He thumped me on the shoulder again. “I have a conference call I have to catch, but I’ll be in touch as soon as I hear anything, alright? Have a good rest of your day.”
“Yeah, you too,” I said, already digging around in the pocket of my pants for my cell phone. If I was going to celebrate, I knew exactly what I wanted to do. I pressed two on my speed dial and lifted the phone to my ear, tapping my heel on the ground impatiently.
After three rings, Allie answered the phone. “Steven? Hi. Why are you calling me so early? Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, everything is fine. I have news.”
“What time is it?” she asked, and I heard her moving things off her work desk to no doubt be able to see the time on the bottom of her computer monitor. “It’s only nine fifteen. You usually aren’t even out of bed this early. How can you have news?”
“I told you I had an early start and a big day today,” I said, trying to shut down her skepticism and torrent of questions. “I had a meeting with a board of investors for my app.”
“Wait, what?” Allie practically screeched into the phone. “How did it go?”
I laughed and held the earpiece at a safer distance. I didn’t need blown eardrums. “It went really well. Looks like I’ll have some funding behind me after all. I’m telling you, Allie, this is it. This is the big one.”
“Oh, Steven, I’m so happy for you! This is amazing! Not that I doubted you for a second. You know that. I knew you would pull this off. Didn’t I tell you? I absolutely knew.”
“Allie,” I chuckled. “I know, relax, will you?”
“Sorry. I’m just excited.”
“Good. I was hoping you would want to celebrate tonight. Can I take you up on that movie night offer? I hope you didn’t eat that popcorn already.”
She was quiet on the other end for a second. “I would never eat the popcorn without you. What kind of friend would that make me?”
“A normal one,” I said.
She giggled. The sound was delightful. “Alright, come over around seven?”
“I’ll see you then,” I said, before hanging up and dropping the phone in my pocket.
Then I threw my fist in the air and pumped it down by my side in silent victory.
I arrived at Allie’s house at seven on the dot. She buzzed me in, and I climbed the flight of stairs up to her apartment door, which she had left ajar for me despite me always giving her shit for being so reckless. I stepped into the kitchen, my hands full with a bottle of her favorite wine and a box of chocolates, and scowled at her.
“The door thing. Really? I have hands. I can open the damn door myself. You’re practically inviting the riffraff in.”
Allie turned from what she was doing at the stove. She was cooking something that smelled miraculous. She popped out her hip and crossed her arms. Her breasts bulged beneath her shirt, and it took everything I had not to stare. “Don’t you reprimand me,
” she said sourly.
Then she spotted the wine and instantly forgave me. She handed me her corkscrew, and I set to opening it for us.
“So, what’s the choice of movie tonight?”
“Dunno,” Allie said, stirring the pot on the stove. “You pick.”
I peered over her shoulder at the creamy yellow concoction in the pot. “What are you making?”
“Curry,” she said cheerfully. “It was my grandmother’s recipe.”
“Grandma JoJo,” I said wistfully, tapping my chin. “I miss her. I don’t miss the way she used to kiss my cheeks, though. I don’t know what was in her lipstick, but I could never get it off.”
Allie giggled and shook her head. “Couldn’t tell you. She’d do the same to me.”
As Allie cooked, I sat at her counter, and we chatted about my day. I told her all about the meeting. She interrupted several times out of sheer excitement, but I didn’t mind. In fact, I quite liked it.
She filled two plates with rice and curry, and then we made our way to the living room, where we sat with our meals in front of the TV while the fireplace cast an orange glow about the apartment. We started some action comedy flick, but never watched it. This was normal. Usually, our movie nights consisted of us talking through the entire film.
Soon we were both tired-eyed and sleepy. Allie was curled up beside me with her head on my lap. She had covered herself with the plaid blanket she kept on the back of the sofa, and some fifteen minutes ago her breathing had deepened. I knew she had fallen asleep, but I waited to wake her until the movie credits started playing.
I shook her shoulder gently.
“Allie,” I called softly. “Earth to Allie. Time for bed?”
She sat up slowly and rubbed her eyes. “Sorry, Steven, I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you. I think I’m suffering from a food coma.”
“Hey, not to worry. It’s late. Do you mind if I spend the night?”
“Not at all,” she said, getting to her feet. The blanket fell from her waist, and I noticed the way her shirt had inched up her stomach, revealing a flat belly and hips that were made for holding on to.
“Come on,” she said. “I’ll get you your toothbrush.”
I followed her into her master bedroom. She excused herself to use the washroom, and I sat on the edge of her bed, twiddling my thumbs.
Then I spotted a book tucked under her nightstand. It had a yellow spine with no writing on it, and for some reason, it was calling out for me to touch it.
I reached down and plucked it from the bottom shelf. I turned it over in my hands to read the single word “Diary” written in gold curling font on the front of the book.
“Bloody hell,” I muttered, turning it over in my hands again. I was holding Allie Wright’s diary.
“Did you say something?” Allie called from the bathroom.
“No,” I called back, opening the front cover. I began to read under my breath. “Property of Allie Wright. Please do not read any further!”
I heard the bathroom door open. I slapped the book closed and tucked it back on its shelf on her nightstand. Then I clasped my hands in my lap and looked up at her. She handed me a new toothbrush still in its packaging and a travel-sized toothpaste.
I stood up and rubbed the back of my head. “Thanks, Allie. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” she said, pulling her black hair over one shoulder and smiling at me.
Chapter 4
Allie
James Lipton was leaning on my desk, peering down at me with a smirk playing on his lips. I was more than aware of the fact that he had positioned himself to have the perfect view down the front of my blouse.
“Is there something you need, James?” I asked without looking up from my computer screen. I pretended to be busy typing an email.
“No, no, don’t you worry your pretty little head about it, Allie. I’m just taking a well-deserved break from all the work I was doing this morning. And I must say, there’s no better place to take a breather than right here.”
I glanced up at him. “Right. Well, if there is anything, let me know.”
“I will, Allie cakes, I will.”
I resisted the overwhelming urge to gag. James had always been inappropriate with me at work, but I had convinced myself that his unprofessional behavior was outweighed by my more than decent salary. I still daydreamed every day of leaving and working somewhere else. I wondered what it would be like to work for a company that didn’t encourage harassment. I wondered what other bosses were like. Did they make their assistants do all the tedious things James did? Like confirming dentist appointments or negotiating whose turn it was to have the kids on the weekends? He treated me like a conflict resolutionist wherever his ex-wife was concerned. She didn’t seem to mind. I figured she preferred talking to me over him.
But it was awkward.
At noon, I slipped out of the office and made my way down the street to a small sandwich shop where I was meeting my sister, Melissa, for lunch. She was already there and had saved us a table on the heated patio. She spotted me and waved enthusiastically.
I joined her at the table and tucked my purse under my chair. “How are you?” I asked, clasping my hands together on top of the table.
“Great,” she said, crossing her legs and tossing her brown hair over her shoulder. “How about you? James still being a piece of shit at work?”
“You know it. He spent seven minutes standing above me looking down my shirt this morning.”
“Ew. What a perv.”
“I know,” I shrugged. “But, hey, it could be worse, right?”
“I guess so, but you should still say something to someone. Don’t you guys have an HR representative you can reach out to? He shouldn’t be allowed to get away with this stuff. You realize he’s probably doing it to other women in the office, right? You guys could form an anti-James party.”
I chuckled and sipped on the lemon water she had ordered me. “An anti-James party does sound like a good time, but I don’t think I want to get tied up in that kind of drama.”
“Suit yourself,” Melissa said. “You’re the one who has to deal with him every day. What else is new?”
“Oh, not much. Steven and I went for dinner the other night. He’s doing well. He pitched that app idea of his that I told you about. It sounds like it went really well. I think this is going to work out for him.”
“Good God,” Melissa muttered. “He can’t get rich.”
“What? Why?”
“It’s not fair that a man can look like him and have money. Like, seriously. He’s toxic to women. I don’t know how you can stand being friends with him.”
I wanted to tell her I couldn’t stand it, but she already knew. She had known how I felt about Steven practically since the first day I met him during freshman year. She had tried to encourage me to tell him several times over the years, but I knew the feelings weren’t mutual. Not only that, but I didn’t want to ruin a friendship that had taken me so long to cultivate. I needed Steven. I wasn’t going to risk him because of a schoolgirl crush.
“How’s Mom?” I asked in a desperate attempt to change the subject.
“She’s good. She’s on this new minimalism kick, though. Every time she comes over she goes through my kitchen and tells me what I need to throw out. Be warned, she will do the same to you if you invite her over.”
“I’ll make sure to keep her at bay until the phase is over. Any ideas on what the next trend will be?”
Melissa shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine, I suppose. But, I wouldn’t be surprised if she started leaning towards Feng Shui or handmade jewelry.”
“Both seem fitting.”
“Right?”
The two of us laughed throughout the rest of our visit. We talked about Melissa’s new job at a fashion boutique eight blocks away. We talked more about Steven. We talked about everything, as sisters do.
I begrudgingly returned to work one hour later. When I got to my desk, my
cell phone was blinking with a notification. I picked it up and peered at the screen.
I had a text message from Steven. He wanted to get together again that night. I messaged him back and told him he was more than welcome.
Steven let himself into my apartment around eight. I had left the door closed for fear of being the target of his wrath again. I was sitting on the sofa when he came in, but the smell of Chinese food wafted down the hall shortly after he hollered hello.
I hopped up from the couch and hurried to the kitchen where he was unpacking boxes of rice, chowmein, chicken, and chopsuey.
“This smells so good,” I said, breathing in a deep breath of sweet-smelling steam.
“Figured I couldn’t go wrong with Chinese food. A little bit of everything, really,” he said as he opened my cupboards and grabbed us plates and cups. “Shall we sit in our usual spot? Throw on a movie or something?”
“Uh, sure,” I said, a little taken aback by how quickly he was moving. He had already set out the plates and begun tearing off the lids of the boxes of food. “You alright? You seem like you’re kind of in a rush.”
“What? Of course, I’m alright. Just hungry is all. Aren’t you hungry?”
