Arousal

by Simone Sowood

  “Hi, hon. Spill it, how’d the wedding non-date arrangement go?”

  Too good, I think. Do I tell her?

  “We didn’t have sex, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “No? Bummer.”

  “No kidding.”

  “But how was it otherwise? Are you going to see him again?”

  “No,” I say definitively.

  “No? Just no? Is that because you didn’t like him, or because of your irrational fear of getting hurt again?”

  “It’s not irrational.”

  “It is, hon. You’ve got to get on with living. Enough time has passed.”

  I close my eyes, contemplating what would’ve happened if Liam hadn’t left my bedroom last night. If we’d had sex and I’d fallen asleep in his arms. Is that living, or setting myself up for more pain? Because I can never go through that agony again.

  “We didn’t really connect is all.”

  “That’s not what I heard. All the talk on the grapevine is you two making out on the dance floor.”

  “Shut up. How did you hear?”

  “Your dad, of all people. I needed a board member to sign off on something and couldn’t get ahold of you.”

  “Oh God,” I groan. What the hell was I thinking, acting like that at the wedding where my entire family could see? Oh. Right. I was making them think I have a boyfriend.

  “You know what, it was all an act Liam and I came up with ahead of time to get my father off my back about a boyfriend. It isn’t real.”

  Except it felt real. It still feels real. No matter how many times I try to convince myself otherwise, I want to see him again. At least my heart does, my brain just has to work a little longer to get my heart to understand why that’s impossible.

  “Hon, you can’t live like this. It isn’t really living.”

  “Live like what?”

  “Stop playing dumb,” Kirsten says, her voice serious. “As the head of the charity for healing broken hearts, I’m now making you my number-one priority. I will keep on you, throwing therapists and whatever else I can at you, until you’re prepared to move on with your life and start living again.”

  “I don’t need therapists.”

  “I’ll give you a choice, therapy or a boyfriend.”

  “He has his own jet,” I blurt. I don’t know where it comes from.

  There’s a pause at the other end of the line, but I don’t say anything more.

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “Nope. After the wedding, he took me to the airport and flew me to Austin.”

  “Are you there now?”

  I sigh. “No. I freaked and took the first flight back.”

  “Freaked? Sounds like you’re scared of living,” she says, her voice soft and caring.

  “Maybe. Maybe everything with Liam is too crazy. I mean, what kind of guy has a jet?”

  “Who is he?”

  “I don’t know. He wouldn’t say,” I say, my voice trailing off.

  “Weird. And a possible warning flag.”

  “Exactly,” I say, glad to have an excuse to latch on to.

  “But you should still give him another chance.”

  “I haven’t decided yet.”

  “But, hon, one more time seeing him isn’t going to break any of your rules. At least not until you sleep with him.”

  “He probably doesn’t want to see me again anyway, after the way I left.” Except I know he does.

  “Well, you won’t know for sure until you ask him.” Like hell I’m going to ask him.

  “You know, I have to pee. I’ll call you later,” I say and hang up.

  She immediately phones again. I hit ignore and put it on silence. She phones again, the phone vibrates in my hand but I ignore it. It vibrates again with a text.

  -I can’t believe you hung up on me!

  You were nagging

  -I was trying to help you

  I stare at the screen and sigh, before typing out a response.

  I know

  Not wanting to think about the situation any longer, I do what I do best — forget about life by throwing myself into my work. I toss the phone onto the sofa and pull out my charity laptop.

  I spend the next hour looking through the financials, and reading a report by Kirsten on how we’re going to cope with losing our largest donor. But my mind keeps wandering back over my time with Liam.

  As much as I like to remember the feeling of him holding me, I can’t stop thinking about the way my father treated me in front of him at the wedding. How he kept insulting me, not only to my face and to every family member who happened by, but in front of the man he thinks is my boyfriend.

  The longer I think about my father’s words, the more my stomach churns with bile.

  I realize I never did contact the recruitment agency that day Liam phoned me about going to the wedding. Going into my work email, I send off an email to the contact I have at a recruitment agency.

  It’s Sunday, so I can’t do much more other than giving my resume a long overdue update. I spend some time Googling, and find a half dozen other recruiters that look relevant to my background, then send them emails with my resume.

  The actions make me feel lighter. I’m finally throwing out the family-duty guilt trip and taking steps to get away from my toxic father.

  By the time I throw a frozen pizza in the oven, I’m feeling less stressed than I have in years.

  So light, that I think maybe I would like to see Liam again. As long as I knew he wasn’t going to abandon me alone in my bedroom again.

  Holding Up the Deal (Liam)

  I give it a couple of days before contacting Darcy again, to give her time to reflect on what happened. Instead of phone her cell, I call her office.

  “Darcy Knight speaking.” Her voice instantly relaxes me.

  “It’s Liam.” I don’t say anything more, waiting to judge her reaction. There’s a short silence, during which I can hear her swallow.

  “Hi.”

  “I missed you on Sunday.”

  “Really? You didn’t seem to miss me on Saturday night, when you ran away and left me alone in my bedroom.”

  “There’s a reason for that.”

  “I’ve been waiting for an explanation for three days.”

  “It’s something I have to explain in person.”

  “Oh really?”

  ”Yes, and I assume you’ll have an explanation for me on why you took off.”

  “I needed some space,” she pauses. “After what happened.”

  “Like I said, let me explain.”

  “You keep saying that, but you never offer any explanation.”

  “When we go to my event on Saturday, I will explain everything. I promise.”

  “Your event?”

  “Yes, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten our deal.”

  “No, I haven’t forgotten. I’d just assumed you didn’t need me to come anymore,” she says, her voice full of exasperation.

  “I’ll always need you. Don’t ever think otherwise.”

  She doesn’t say anything, and I let the silence hang over the phone to accentuate my point. I don’t ever want her to doubt me.

  I speak again, “My event starts at six. I’ll have a car pick you up at five-thirty.”

  “Oh.”

  Darcy doesn’t sound like she’s sure about coming.

  “Yes, be ready. I’m depending on you.”

  “You are?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Okay, then.”

  I don’t care if she’s confused, I need her to follow my instructions.

  “Excellent.”

  “What do I wear?”

  “Whatever you want. Your pink dress was pretty close to perfect. Anything like that works.”

  “Okay. Five-thirty, send me the details.”

  “Yes. And Darcy? I’m really looking forward to seeing you again.”

  “Okay. I’ll see you then.” She hangs up the phone.

 
Satisfied, I run over my plans for the evening. It’s a risk, bringing her here, telling her things. But I need to be upfront with her. At least about who I am.

  I said if I still wanted her in the morning after the hotel room, I would know she’s The One. And want doesn’t begin to cover the ache I feel for Darcy right now.

  She already knows, at least to some extent, how much money I have and she still ran from me. I know she’s not a gold digger, she’s got an amazing career of her own. Showing her where I live isn’t going to hurt me. Telling her who I am might, but I’m prepared to take that risk.

  On Thursday morning, I wake up to an email with a five-page summary on Darcy’s background that my assistant uncovered. It makes some things clear and reveals things I had no idea about.

  I text my assistant.

  Set up charitable donation, ten million to the charity Young Hearts

  -Yes, sir

  Make sure it’s complete by tomorrow

  I struggle to focus on my businesses the rest of the day. I even have Victor cover me in a few meetings. For the first time ever. He doesn’t question me when I tell him I’m ill. I guess he has no reason to.

  Part of me wants to tell him about my situation. A small part of me.

  Dating isn’t something I’m used to. Normally women are in and out in a night and purely there to scratch an itch. A handful of them have stayed for breakfast. And only a couple of those were invited back.

  By the time Saturday arrives, I’ve prepared and planned out the evening. Darcy will not run from me tonight.

  I check my watch and check it again. Darcy should be here any minute. I’ve arranged to have one of the doormen escort her to my apartment.

  There’s a knock and I rush to the door.

  I open the door and my heart stops. Darcy stands centered in the doorframe, a little black halter dress acts as a second skin on her perfect body. It’s cool in the corridor, and her nipples poke against the fabric. There’s no way she’s wearing a bra, and that already has my desire raging.

  “Darcy, you look,” I pause while my eyes rake over her body, searching for the right word, “Unforgettable.”

  “Thank you.” I take her hand, the warmth from it radiates through me and puts me at ease.

  “Is that everything, Mr Jones?” the doorman asks.

  “Yes. Thanks, Mike.”

  I close the door and lead her into my living room.

  “Is the event here?” she asks.

  “Sort of.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Sit down, let me get you a drink and I’ll explain everything.”

  “You sure have a lot of things to explain.” She raises her eyebrow as she says it.

  “I know. In good time. What are you drinking? Bubbles?”

  “I think I’ll start with something stronger. A G&T?”

  “Two gin and tonics coming up.” I nod to my butler, Jasper, who’s standing off to the side, hidden from view. He turns and heads for the kitchen.

  She sits in my armchair, the one I always sit in, and I take a seat on the sofa nearest her. Her knees are tight together and she leans slightly forward.

  “What’s the event?”

  “Just a dinner thing.”

  She purses her lips and nods.

  Enjoying the View (Darcy)

  When I arrived, I wasn’t prepared for how I’d react when I saw Liam. When he opened the door, my breathing stopped. I forgot to breathe until he’d led me into this room and I sat down on this chair.

  I want to look around the room, to check it out, but I can’t take my eyes from him. And he hasn’t stopped looking at me. He’s wearing a tuxedo that, though it doesn’t seem possible, increases his sex appeal. His broad shoulders were made for a tux. I try to ignore the increasing heat between my legs.

  His black bow tie looks ever so slightly lopsided, meaning he must have tied it himself instead of wearing one of those clip-on ones. I try not to imagine him with the tie hanging loosely around his neck, his top button undone.

  His caramel eyes meet mine, and I feel the growingly familiar jolt of whatever it is that’s between us. I have to resist this, and not get sucked into whatever magnetic pull he has on me.

  This is not a date. This is purely me fulfilling my end of the bargain. Though that doesn’t explain why I wore the sexiest dress I own. The one I bought two days ago. Just for tonight.

  “Had a good week?” he asks. Small talk, great.

  “After I got over Saturday, sure. You?”

  “No. I haven’t gotten over Saturday yet.”

  I nod, still unable to take my eyes from him. A man appears with a tray of two drinks and presents me my G&T. I take a long drink, willing the cold liquid to cool off my insides.

  “Do I get my explanation before or after the event?”

  His left eyebrow arches. “I was thinking a little before and a little after.”

  “Any particular reason I’m not getting it all now?”

  “Figured I’d better see how the evening goes first.” He takes a drink from his glass, and I do the same with mine. The ice cubes in my drink seem to be melting at an alarming rate.

  Liam holds my eyes in his, and time passes without anything being said. He breaks our stare to take another sip of his drink. I use the opportunity to polish off most of mine.

  It allows me to relax a little. Leaning back in the chair, I watch him as I make a show of crossing my legs. His eyes follow my leg as it moves, and his gaze locks on my upper thigh once my legs are crossed.

  My heart quickens at the idea that someone as amazing as him is interested in my body. Maybe. After the way he left me Saturday night, it’s difficult to tell.

  “I was testing myself,” he says, as if he were reading my mind.

  “What? On Saturday?”

  “Yes. I had to know.”

  “Know what?”

  “If you’d be just as appealing in the morning.”

  “I don’t get it. Is that an insult? You thought you were wearing... Champagne goggles?”

  “No, nothing like that.”

  Liam stands and takes the few steps to me. He takes my hand and guides me out of the chair. The warmth from his touch once again floods me with heat. I twist to set my glass on the table.

  “Are we going now?” I ask.

  “I want to show you my home.”

  I take a deep breath, wondering what his plan is. Grasping my hand tightly he leads me through room after opulent room. I’d never imagined such a big place, or that such big rooms existed in the center of Manhattan. And I’ve never been so naive to think there weren’t really big apartments out there.

  It’s just, this place. Liam’s home, is shocking.

  As we walk, we talk about the chocolate convention and the event market in general. He’s very interested to hear my opinion on what I think the future for event businesses is, and even surprises me with some insightful comments of his own.

  Our conversation flows easily, and I get the same relaxed feeling I had on the plane.

  “Do you want to see upstairs?” he asks.

  “There’s an upstairs?”

  “Mostly the bedrooms, but also my gym and a rooftop terrace.”

  The bedrooms. If only.

  “I’m good,” I say. Because if I go anywhere near a bed with him I’m going to have to demand he throw me on it.

  “You kind of have to come upstairs, because that’s where the event is.”

  My eyes widen, and for the first time in my life, I choke on my own spit.

  “The event is in the bedroom?”

  Liam captures my eyes again, “Do you want the event to be in the bedroom?”

  “What? No!”

  He laughs, a rich full-bodied sound that threatens to scoop me up and carry me to the bedroom all by itself.

  “Come with me.” Increasing his grip on my hand, he starts up the wide staircase and I have no choice but to follow.

  We turn left at the top, down
a hallway wide enough for us to walk side by side, and through a door. The sounds of Manhattan rise up from the street, and there are magnificent views of the skyline in every direction I look.

  “Oh, the event is on your terrace?”

  “Exactly. Over here.” I follow him through potted plants and flowers. We even walk under a pergola covered in a vine. The roof terrace is bigger than my entire apartment. And my apartment is a decent size.

  He leads me to the far edge, to what must be the best view of the city. We take one step up onto a raised section of decking, on which a table is set for two. Elaborately set for two. With a long white tablecloth, more glasses than two people could drink out of and heavy silverware. In the middle, a low floral arrangement is surrounded by lit candles.

  There are no other tables in sight. I swallow, staring at the flicker of the candle flames.

  “This is the event?” I say, my voice trembling. I clear my throat. I can’t have a trembling voice. Just because this is obviously a date and not an event.

  Temptation (Darcy)

  “It is. Have a seat.” He pulls one of the chairs out for me and I go into autopilot. I sit down, he slides in my chair. My hands stay folded on my lap, half under the table. My head stays fixed in position, and my eyes stay fixed, staring straight ahead. The movements are all very robotic.

  Liam comes into my view and sits opposite me.

  “Are we the only two people attending the event?”

  “It’s hard to drum up a lot of people at such short notice.”

  “So this is some kind of date then?”

  “It would appear to be.”

  Great, I don’t do second dates, so this is our one and only. Do I tell him that?

  From somewhere, the man who’d brought us the gin and tonics appears and fills one of my many glasses with water. He fills the one next to it with sparkling water and does the same to Liam.

  After disappearing, he returns mere seconds later with a bottle of white wine, which he pours into the smallest glasses on the table. He vanishes again, but I don’t turn my head to see where he goes. I keep it fixed ahead of me.

  “Cheers,” Liam picks up his glass of wine and clinks it to mine, which is still untouched in its position on the table. Fuck it. I pick up the glass of wine and take a gulp.