As we both lie there, exhausted but satisfied, I remember all the flowers he sent earlier that day.
“Bryce, those flowers you sent this morning are incredible. Thank you so much. That was so sweet of you.”
“You were so beautiful last night, I wanted to find flowers that matched your beauty and since I couldn’t decide, I sent you everything in the shop.”
Chapter 3
Oh, no, I have to hurry or else I’ll be late for lunch.
I look at my watch, a bit panicked, as I text a cab to come and pick me up. I’m meeting my college friend Claire Winthrop and her husband Timothy Bradley Winthrop III for a late lunch near Timothy’s Wall Street office. They’re in town every so often when Timothy’s presence is absolutely mandatory in their New York office.
Claire left her usual chipper message with a location for a quick lunch before they head out to the airport. They live in Boston and hate New York with a passion, so they’re never here for more than three days—two of which Timothy spends locked up in meetings while Claire shops to her heart’s content. Claire comes from a wealthy family, but Timothy’s extraordinary wealth makes her family look poor. Timothy is an actuary in his father’s prestigious accounting firm and although their biggest clients are in New York, the entire Winthrop clan insists on staying firmly grounded in Boston.
“Oh, Sofia, we’re over here.”
I’m still checking in with the hostess at P.J. Clarke’s when Claire shouts out my name as she waves in my direction. She may have more money than many Hollywood Oscar winners, but she lacks class.
“Hi, Claire, how are you?” I say, as I give her one of those European kisses in the air. “Timothy, you look as handsome as ever.”
“Oh, Sofia, you say that every time I see you. I should be the one complimenting you. That turquoise dress looks stunning on you and plays off so well with that shade of lipstick. Oh, and look at those shoes. They are too sexy for words.”
“Timothy, you’re going to make me blush.”
Claire and Timothy are poster children for the perfect family, and comments like that make me think that Ciara is right. After she won a number of awards, Winthrop Asset Management Corp hired her to give their offices across the country a much-needed facelift and she had the opportunity to work closely with Timothy. She said she had rarely worked with a client outside the design scene who could see her vision so well. Timothy has a great eye for style and everything about his wardrobe selections reflects that.
“Honestly, you look like a new woman with this hairstyle.”
“Timothy is right, Sof, honey, you look amazing. Turquoise is definitely your color and it’s so perfect with your new shorter haircut. I cannot believe you cut all your hair off and that you’re a blonde like me now. It’s so New York. I’d never have the courage. Good on you, girl, for being so daring.”
My financial debacle was so public that I needed to change the way I look in case I bumped into someone who might recognize me. My hair is naturally quite dark and it’s been down to my waist for as long as I can remember, but a new career as an escort demanded a complete transformation.
Claire, on the other hand, would rather die than cut off an inch of her blonde mane. She’s always used her hair like a weapon because she knows that her golden locks drive men crazy. She’s not the prettiest, but she definitely knows how to use what she has to her advantage.
“Claire, you look beautiful, as always. I love that necklace on you. It’s stunning.”
“Oh, Sofia, thank you. Timothy gave it to me for our fourth anniversary,” she says, as she casually plays with her diamond necklace.
“Has it been four years already?” I ask, pretending to be surprised.
“It has, and we have great news,” she says, unable to contain her excitement.
“No. Am I going to be an aunt?”
“Well, not yet, but Timothy and I are trying.”
“Congratulations and mazel tov! I’m sure that half the fun in getting pregnant is in the trying,” I say, as I wink at both of them.
“Oh, Sofia, you’re so bad, but you’re so right,” she says with a sparkle in her eye.
Timothy turns beet red as if I said something wrong and turns his head towards the window to avoid my gaze.
Hmmm, that’s a strange reaction.
“Oh, let me call a waiter over before we start catching up. Timothy and I have to be out of here in ninety minutes or else we’ll miss our plane back home and you know how much we love staying in New York more than we have to,” she says, curling her lips in disgust. “So, honey, how have you been? Are you recovering?” She looks at me with puppy eyes, pouting her lips to accentuate her question.
“I’m doing okay, Claire.”
“Listen, Sofia, you don’t have to put on a brave face on our account. We read about your story in newspapers and on blogs, and we cannot believe that partner of yours screwed you so badly. I mean, you had such a spotless reputation in the real-estate industry and the New York Post dubbed you the Real-Estate Queen of New York.”
“Claire, maybe Sofia doesn’t want to talk about this now.” Timothy comes to my rescue and I love him for that.
“Thanks, Timothy, for your concern. Claire, it was a nightmare and that’s the best way I can describe it, but that’s behind me now and I’m putting all my energy into rebuilding my life.”
“Honestly, I don’t know how you do it. I would have hidden in a cave had this happened to me,” Claire says. “I mean, you worked so hard to build that company and just like that it disappears overnight. That must hurt.”
Claire is the kind of girl you hate in high school. Then she goes off to university and cruises through all the classes while you slave away on your assignments and she ends up marrying the richest guy on campus. She has a way of putting things that cuts both ways and every time she makes me feel like shit, I wonder why I keep meeting them for lunch when they’re in town.
“Claire, I don’t have the choice but to move on with my life. No one else can help me.”
There’s no way in hell she can possibly understand my position. She was born rich and then married a man who’s richer than God right after college. She’s never had to work a day in her life. She pretends to have contacts in the fashion world, but Claire barely knows how to use Gmail. And what kind of fashion world is there in Boston?
“But Sof, what about your sister? She’s extremely successful and she has money, couldn’t she pull some strings?”
“Claire, that’s enough. Sofia really doesn’t have to open up about this stuff. Not to mention it’s behind her now.” Timothy snaps at Claire and she pretends to understand how hurtful she’s being right now. She can be so catty when she puts her mind to it.
“Thanks, Timothy. I really don’t want to talk about this more than I have to, Claire, because I don’t want to have to relive the nightmare over and over again,” I say, concluding this uncomfortable conversation.
Our drinks arrive not a minute too soon or else I might have said something I would have regretted later.
“I’m responsible for my own life and mistakes, Claire. Ciara had nothing to do with this mess.”
“I didn’t mean to upset you, Sof. I was just concerned because it was such a big deal in the news that we heard about it in Boston.”
It was such a big deal that it was all over the news—from New York City to L.A. I’m pretty sure someone in Rome heard about my financial fiasco. I look at my watch and mentally start the countdown.
Only sixty more minutes before this is all over.
Our meals arrive and I veer the conversation to her. Since Claire loves talking about her perfect life, she forgets all about my business debacle. As she’s going on and on, Timothy looks at me and rolls his eyes. I try hard not to laugh because he obviously has heard this story a million times. Our waiter has time to clear up our dishes, present the dessert selections, take our coffee order and she’s still talking ab
out herself. I don’t know how he does it. I only have to deal with her a few times a year, but he actually has to live with her.
“You won’t believe this, Sof, but this summer Timothy and I are visiting…”
Claire stops talking and stares behind me, as if she has just seen a ghost.
“Claire, are you okay?” I ask, concerned that she’s fallen ill.
A deep voice speaks from behind me. “I saw you come in, but I didn’t want to interrupt your lunch with your friends, and since I was heading upstairs for a meeting, I thought I’d catch you later.”
That simply cannot be Bryce talking. This cannot be happening.
I turn slowly, praying that another man I know sounds exactly like Bryce.
For the love of God, it’s Bryce.
“Oh my, Mr. Van Der Linden, it’s such an honor to meet you. My name is Claire Winthrop. Your reputation precedes you.” Claire jumps out of her seat to meet Bryce and in her giddiness knocks over her chair, forcing the entire restaurant to look in our direction.
Great. Now everyone’s looking this way.
I open my mouth and close it, incapable of finding the words that might save my ass right now. My mind goes blank as my two worlds collide at the absolute worst moment.
“Mr. Van Der Linden, it’s such a pleasure. My name is Timothy Bradley Winthrop III and I’ve heard such incredible things about you.” Timothy has joined his wife and they’re both gushing over Bryce like two teenagers.
“How do the two of you know each other?” Claire looks back and forth between Bryce and I.
“Well, may I call you Claire?” Bryce asks.
“Oh, please do,” she gushes like a groupie.
“I see you also know my beautiful Director of International Business.”
Touché! He just saved my ass!
“Honey, here we are catching up and you didn’t even tell us you were Mr. Van Der Linden’s Director of International Business. You’ve always been so modest,” she coos at me.
“That’s an amazing opportunity, I have to agree with Claire. I’m so impressed and even a little jealous,” Timothy chimes in, flashing me a smile.
Please, please, please, they cannot say my name aloud and Bryce cannot call me Amanda in front of them.
“I’d offer to pay for drinks, but it seems you’re already done.”
I still don’t have the courage to look at Bryce, afraid that one look will betray me and give Claire a really good reason to think she’s superior to me.
“Oh, we’ll have to take a rain check. Timothy and I don’t stay in New York for long and we have to catch a flight,” she says, as she looks down at her diamond-encrusted Rolex watch. “Oh, gosh, Timothy, we’re going to be late. Go pay the bill and let’s grab a cab.”
“Timothy, allow me to treat you since you have to run. Any friends of my Director of International Business are friends of mine.”
They both gush at his words and look at each other as if the president of the United States invited them to the White House for afternoon tea.
“Honey, the next time I’m in New York, you must tell me all about this fabulous new career of yours,” she says, looking genuinely impressed by my seemingly huge success.
“Of course. We must. Let’s have lunch again when you’re back in the city and I can tell you all about my position at Linden Corporation,” I say with a tinge of sarcasm.
“It’s a date then. Okay, honey, big kiss. Come on, get up, I might not see you for a long time.”
I hold on to the back of my chair for balance. I’m nauseated by this conversation and I pray that Claire and Timothy get out of New York before figuring out the truth about how I know Bryce.
“If I didn’t know better I’d think you were avoiding making eye contact with me. Did my presence make you that uncomfortable?” Bryce says once Claire and Timothy have dashed off.
“I think I stopped breathing for a moment when I heard your voice behind me. I was afraid my college frienemy would find out how I know you.”
“Frienemy? What does that mean?”
“It’s a long story. I cannot believe of all the places in New York, we’d wind up having lunch at the same place at the same time.”
“I try to book late lunches at P.J. Clarke’s because it’s so crazy earlier in the day.”
“Good point.”
A voice with slight accent speaks from behind me. “Mr. Van Der Linden, will you finish your meal here or will you return to your table? We’ll gladly clean this table and bring you the rest of your meal here if you’d prefer.”
This must be the manager or maître d’hôtel.
“Antonio, I hope this beautiful woman will join me at my table for a drink or dessert,” he says, pressing me for an answer with his disarming blue eyes. “Oh, Antonio, please add the tab for this table to mine.”
“That’s not a problem, Mr. Van Der Linden.”
“Will you please join me at my table, Amanda?”
“Of course, I can sit with you for coffee,” I reply awkwardly.
“Excellent. It’s settled then. After you,” he says, gesturing for me to follow Antonio. “You seem disappointed. I’m actually happy I get to see you again. It’s a bit unexpected, but good things come out of the unexpected, Amanda.”
“There are few people on this planet who know I work for Todd and I’d like to keep it that way. That was a bit too close for comfort for me. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. You simply caught me off guard.”
“I get it. You don’t have to explain yourself to me. You have a private life and you’d prefer if the two worlds remained separate.”
“You’ve summed it up perfectly.”
“Well, nevertheless, I’m happy to see you again. I did a double-take earlier when I saw you in that dress, but I was in a business meeting and I had to force myself to remain focused. That’s not an easy task when the woman I was with last night looks so damn good.”
Since sitting at his table, this is the first time I’ve relaxed enough to take him in. His grey suit fits him perfectly and his baby-blue shirt softens his eyes. The pattern of his black and white tie adds a touch of playfulness that makes him even more irresistible to me. He looks freaking hot.
Three. Don’t fall in lust or love with your client.
He catches my lingering gaze and smiles flirtatiously.
“I love the shoes today as much as I loved them last night.” He’s looking down at my feet while caressing my thigh. “The only thing sexier than you naked in those shoes would be to see you wearing nothing more than these shoes and matching white underwear.”
“Hmph.” I curl up my lips in a smile.
“What?”
“It’s just that you’re in luck. I happen to be wearing a matching set of white lacy underwear. I guess great minds think alike,” I whisper in his ear.
He sits back and sizes me up. He gets up, pulls out a roll of hundred-dollar bills from his pocket, peels three of them off the top of the pile and flings them on the table.
“Let’s go find out if you’re just trying to turn me on or if you really have something to show off.”
“Where are we going?”
He doesn’t answer me, instead he turns his back to me in search of a waiter.
“Martin, is it okay if my Director of International Business and I run upstairs for a quick meeting? We’re going after a big international client and need to strategize. We wouldn’t want the Chinese to win this bid, would we?”
“Certainly, Mr. Van Der Linden. We must keep this contract in America.” Martin looks so serious and so eager to help. “It’s usually pretty quiet upstairs at this time of the day. You’re a private member, please feel free to conduct business upstairs. It’s way more private and it seems you’re working on something big. Should I get someone to bring coffee and dessert?”
“That won’t be necessary, Martin. We have some very strategic work to attend to and we’ll
have little time for coffee.” Bryce looks at me as he raises his eyebrows. “You heard Martin, it’s far more private for us to conduct business upstairs.”
He slides one hand under my elbow and guides me through the restaurant while resting his other hand on my lower back as we make our way to the stairs leading to the private area of the restaurant. There are a few Wall Streeters still conducting business in some of the private rooms and he has to open a few doors before we find an empty room. He closes the door behind us and slides a chair against it to barricade us inside. He turns and smirks like a boy looking at a new toy. He steps towards me and pulls out the roll of bills I saw earlier.
“Let’s round this out to three hours, shall we? That should cover the coffee, the painful lunch with Claire and you showing me the matching bra and panty set to your sexy white shoes,” he says, as he slips a pile of money down the front of my bra. “It’s a good thing you’re wearing a dress, it’s going to make things a whole lot easier for me.”
“What do you mean?”
He gets down on his knees in front of me and slides my dress to my waist.
“Ah, so you weren’t teasing. You are really wearing a matching set of white lace underwear. Very sexy,” he says, looking up at me with his piercing blue eyes. “I’d love to have more time with you, but this is a private restaurant. We’re going to have to make it a quickie.”
Sex in public? He must be joking.
“Are you serious, Bryce?”
“What? Are you afraid of getting caught?” He smirks in that dangerously sexy way that makes me melt inside.
“Yeah, that and going to jail for lewd conduct in a public place. In my world, orange is not the new black.”
“Calm down, Amanda. No one has to know. We can be quick and quiet.”
He gets back up, unzips his pants and brings a condom to my mouth.
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