by Amy Brent
I’d rather fucking lose my job.
But, then again, I didn’t have to tell him all that. I could tell him it was a simple misunderstanding of what the night was supposed to entail, and we could move forward. I could keep my job, he could grow this hotel chain the way he wanted, and all of us could at least be civil and pleasant with one another.
After all, he really was trying to be as nice as he could be, given the circumstances.
I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose as my mind swirled. Why the hell was I acting this way? I knew I was being a bitch, and I really should’ve already let this go. It was a night six fucking years ago! What the hell did I expect from the man!? I was caught up in the whirlwind romance of a powerful handsome man who wanted to treat me a little bit, and his dick just happened to be massive, and he really knew what to do with it.
That’s all that happened.
This was my issue, and it needed to be fixed.
“Mr. Collins?” I asked, as I walked back to the doorway of my office.
“Yes, Miss Wilson?” he asked, as he turned to look at me.
“If you are free for dinner tomorrow evening, maybe we could sit down and have that adult conversation you were referencing,” I said
“You don’t want to have it in your office?” he asked.
“I really do have a great deal of work to get done if I’m going to have any semblance of a weekend. Are you free tomorrow night?” I asked.
“I most certainly am. If you’d like to provide me with your number, I can call you with the details later,” he said. “And yes, I do promise to use it.”
No, thanks. He didn’t need my number for this venture. Not like he had a track record of using it anyway.
“I’ll be in the office for most of the day. You can simply call me here. I’ll come to the office dressed for dinner,” I said.
“Work plans in an evening gown? Will your heels match?” he asked.
“I will not be dressed in an evening gown. I will probably be dressed very similar to the way I am now,” I said.
“It’s been a very long time since I’ve been asked out by a woman,” he said, as he stood.
“I am not asking you out,” I said breathlessly.
“You just asked me to dinner Saturday night. I would say that counts,” he said, as he buttoned his coat.
“Get the hell out of my office, Mr. Collins,” I said. Except this time, I couldn’t quite bury my smirk.
“See you tomorrow evening, Miss Wilson.”
And I couldn’t help but turn my head as I watched him leave my office and walk down the hallway.
I wondered for a brief moment if this was going to ruin my image at the office. I’m sure that he and Drew did weekend dinners all the time to talk shop, but you had to be careful with that kind of thing when you were a woman in the business world. Things were easily misconstrued when you had a vagina, and I wondered if there would be any damage control to do afterwards if someone saw us together.
But, I was probably being paranoid. I mean, it was just a little dinner. What the hell could go wrong?
Chapter 11
Lincoln
I met Amelia at the restaurant, and I had to admit, she looked stunning. She was at the office when I called, just like she said she would be, but the moment she walked in I couldn’t take my eyes off her. How in the hell could I have ever forgotten about a woman like this? Her long legs fed into a tight waist before blossoming into a thick tits and hips. It was going to take work to have an adult conversation with her, but if I wanted my hotel chain to succeed it was one we needed to have.
“Mr. Collins,” she said.
“Please, call me Lincoln outside of work,” I said.
“We are working, are we not? The conversation we are about to have is intended to be of a professional nature, it is not?” she asked.
“Fine then, Miss Wilson, won’t you have a seat?” I asked.
I pulled her chair out for her and I could tell she was wary of the situation. She sat down and I pushed her up to the table, and by the time I sat down myself, the waiter was at our side with a bottle of wine I’d chosen earlier. He poured us each a glass before he set the rest of it on the table. She reached for the glass and held it between her delicate fingertips as she eyed me curiously.
“Wine for a professional dinner?” she asked.
“The alcohol will allow us to both loosen up a bit,” I said.
“Is the big, bad Mr. Collins nervous?” she asked, smirking.
“It is ignorant for someone to ever proclaim that they are not nervous. It is what we allow those nerves to do to us that’s important, and is what reveals our character,” I said.
“And who said that? Pavarotti?” she asked.
“No. I did. At my last conglomerate investment banking board meeting. I enjoy giving them tips so they can try to fend for themselves one day.
“Kind of you,” she said, grinning.
“I try to be.” I glanced over at her and found her studying me closely. I could tell she was reading me, or, at the very least trying to. Part of me was interested in the conclusions she had drawn already, but I wanted to get this conversation over with before we dove into anything else.
“Would you like to get the serious part of the conversation out of the way? Because I can start it, if you’d like,” she said.
“I would actually like to hear your side of things, yes,” I said.
“Part of that evening was my fault,” she said. “I was not under the impression that it was a one-night stand when you asked for my number. I always thought a one-night stand was indicated by the fact that neither parties exchanged numbers, or even names, for that matter.”
“Which is odd, because I always ask for that information. Just because it is what it is doesn’t mean the parties in question don’t deserve respect,” he said.
“So, you were trying to be a gentleman during our one-night stand,” she said.
“I was.”
“Does a gentleman leave before the sun comes up?” she asked.
For a split second, I saw that same fire cross her eyes. The fire and ice I’d heard in her voice and experienced in her personality for the past two weeks. That’s what she was really upset about. It wasn’t the sex, or the exchange of information, or even the way I treated her.
It was because she had woken up alone.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I don’t make it a habit of being there when they wake up. It has a tendency to uh, emotionally connect two people.”
“Damn those emotions,” she said, grinning.
“Ms. Wilson, I have wanted to say that I am sorry if it left you hurt or with feelings of ill will.”
“I wonder how many people have heard the great Lincoln Collins apologize,” she said.
“No one. And if you ever take it to the press, I’ll deny it,” I said, grinning.
It was the first time I’d ever heard her laugh. Well, the first time since she had been under my employ. It was a deep, chest-ridden sound. One that seemed to float up her throat and feather over her lips.
“Would you like another glass of wine?” I asked.
“I would love one,” she said.
“How are the plans coming along for the budget and the timeline?” I asked, as I poured us both another glass.
“Well, we got your approval sooner than Drew had expected, so I was able to get a jumpstart on things. I gave the go-ahead to four crews today to begin sprucing up six hotels you already have stationed. Those should be done with in a couple of months, and then we can turn them loose on the other six,” she said.
“What about the new builds?” I asked.
“I have a conference call with the three crews servicing the three separate luxury buildings tomorrow,” she said.
“Working on a Sunday. How professional,” I said, smirking.
“That’s why you pay me the big bucks, boss-man,” she said, winking.
Holy hell, I had forgotten how
cheeky she was. I’d forgotten her banter and the way her smile lit up her face.
How the fuck could I have forgotten this?
“So, where are you currently residing?” I asked.
“So professional. Loosen up a bit, Lincoln,” she said. “I live about ten minutes across town. In a studio apartment above a bakery.”
“Sounds like it smells good,” I said.
“I get fat just taking a whiff of it in the mornings,” she said, giggling.
“I’m just down the road. I don’t stray too far from my businesses. Ever heard of The Avalon?”
“You mean the looming building that houses all the billionaires and their secret sex parties? That’s all anyone around here talks about sometimes,” she said.
“Secret sex parties, huh? What else do they say about the place?”
“Well, us plebes believe different things. Some believe it’s all a front for a massive drug cartel. Others think raunchy sex parties are happening every night behind the blacked-out windows. Me, I think the billionaires are simply swimming back and forth in sprawling tubs that span the length of their suites, perhaps filled with all the money they don’t know what to do with,” she said.
“Swimming in money, huh? That’s an interesting image,” I said.
“Also, I see those infinity pools hanging off the balconies. Someone’s filled one with Jell-O, haven’t they?”
“I don’t believe anyone’s actually done that,” I said, chuckling.
“Such a shame. It’s a waste of an opportunity, really.”
“Have you ever been there?” I asked.
“Nope. Never been inside.”
“There’s a lounge open to the public there on the main floor,” I said.
“Yeah, if you can get past the doorman. He seems innocent enough, but I bet he’s hiding a taser somewhere,” she said.
“George? He’s harmless. He’s the wise old sage of the building. He does vet who comes in to lounge at the bar, but he’s just protecting us.”
“I bet he secretly knows how to kill people ten different ways just by glancing at them,” she said.
“I’ll prove it to you. Let’s go shake his hand after dinner,” I said.
“You want to take me to The Avalon,” she said.
“Sure, why not?”
“Alright. I’ll go with you. But only because you think this George of yours is harmless. I bet he’s really a monster,” she said, winking.
We polished off the bottle of wine before ordering another one, and by the time we both left, I wasn’t too sure either of us should’ve been driving. I told the valet to keep an eye on our cars while we caught a cab back to The Avalon, and as we pulled up I could see the ominous black tint of the windows shine in her eyes.
“Who lives up top?” she asked.
“That’s the big mystery,” I said, as I got out. “Even the billionaires have their own rumors as to what happens up there.”
“Oooh, tell me about these juicy rumors,” she said, as I opened her door for her.
“Well, some of us do believe that raunchy sex parties take place up there every night.”
“See! It’s a fancy of everyone’s,” she said, as she took the hand I was offering her. “I bet the world’s first trillionaire lives up there or something.”
“The world doesn’t have a trillionaire yet,” I said, as I helped her up the steps.
“Yeah, that you know of. This place would be the perfect place for her to hide out.”
“Her?” I asked.
“You don’t think the world’s first trillionaire could be a woman?”
“All I know is that the person that lives up there is a man,” I said.
“Oh, have you met him? Seen him? What’s he look like? Is he covered with warts? A shape-shifter? Old as hell and still slaying decent pussy?”
My eyes widened at her last question and I watched as her face flushed with embarrassment. I linked her arm within mine as we stared at the front doors of The Avalon, and just as we took a step forward, the door flew open.
And there, right in front of us, stood George.
“Miss Wilson, meet George,” I said.
“You look ravishing tonight, Miss Wilson,” George said.
“Are you plotting how to kill me already?” she asked.
“Only if that’s what you prefer,” George said, grinning. “Otherwise, I’m simply studying you to make sure you won’t do Mr. Collins any harm.”
“Oh, he’s the heartbreaker, not me,” she said.
“That he is, Miss Wilson. Which means if he mistreats you, all you need to do is tell me,” George said.
“And I thought you were supposed to be protecting me,” I said.
“Mr. Collins, did your mother not teach you any manners? You always protect the beautiful woman first. Always.”
“I like him. You were right. He isn’t a killer,” she said.
“Now, I’m not so sure. I thought he was on my side,” I said.
“You two have a good evening,” George said, as he ushered us into the lobby.
We made our way to the elevator and rode up to my floor in silence. I could feel her hand pressing further and further into my arm, trying to steady herself as the alcohol overtook her body. I had to admit, I wasn’t very steady on my feet either, and I made a mental note to call the restaurant and tell them to charge my card for the overnight parking.
I didn’t think either of us would be in the mood to pick up our cars tonight.
“Do you remember any of the night we were together?”
I looked down at Amelia just as the elevator doors opened, and I could tell she had regressed. Gone was the playful woman I had been bantering with over dinner, and in her place was a small, vulnerable, hurt young woman. She walked mindlessly into my suite before she heaved a heavy sigh, and it was the first time I had ever seen someone wholly unimpressed with where I lived. All she did was turn back towards me before her saddened eyes hooked onto mine, and part of me simply wanted to leave her here.
I didn’t want to have to look into the eyes of a woman I’d hurt simply by leaving.
“How could you forget that?” she asked, as I stepped from the elevator. “How could you forget, all of it?”
I watched as tears crested her eyes, and a very confused part of me wanted to reach out to her. My hands were in my pockets and my eyes were studying every inch of her, but in the back of my mind I was trying to conjure any semblance of that night.
That drunken night where we stumbled back into my hotel.
“Fuck, the way you kissed me. It was—”
I watched her fingertips dance upon her lips, like she was recalling the sweetest of memories. A tear slowly trickled down her face, taking with it the delicate makeup she had probably painstakingly applied that morning. In an instant, a bottle and a half of wine had buried the strong, confident woman and drawn up the insecure, heartbroken little girl. A girl who probably dreamed of romance and made love instead of fucked. A girl who probably dreamed about her future wedding and had the picture of the perfect man in her mind.
“Amelia, I—”
“I could remind you,” she said, breathlessly.
“What?”
“I could remind you,” she said, as she turned towards me. In a moment, her eyes flashed again. The little girl was buried and the mischievous, sexy woman poured forth. She sauntered towards me, her heels lightly clicking against the floor while her hips swayed with every motion she made. Her hand reached back and undid the clip of her hair, and I watched as it tumbled down and fell upon her shoulders.
“I could remind you of everything so you’d never forget again,” she said.
Her hands slowly made their way up my chest before they wrapped around my neck. I could feel the softness of her skin against mine—the way her heat radiated harshly from her body. I could feel her trembling lightly, the insecurities still pouring forth as she tried to cover it up with her strong facade. I walked her back towards
the edge of my couch, my hands on her hips as I gazed deeply into her eyes, and as her ass hit the piece of furniture I bent down and connected my lips with hers.
And night came swirling back in one bombastic memory as my hands pressed her body deeply into mine.
Chapter 12
Amelia
My body leaned back over his couch as his hands kept me pressed to his body. His kiss was electrifying, toasting every part of my rational mind while his wine-tainted lips devoured me whole. I twirled my hands into the base curls of his hair, feeling his hands caress my back. My body longed for him, longed for the way he made me feel all those years ago, and I broke the kiss as we each panted for air.
He backed up and took my hand, leading me through his home. All the extravagance and beautiful views from his windows faded away when we walked through the threshold of his bedroom. He stopped us in the middle of the room as I looked around, and I could feel his fingers slowly working my clothes off my body.
By the time it was all said and done, I saw the body of the man I’d had six years ago. His chiseled muscles pulled taut against his body shone with the sun-kissed skin I’d raked my teeth across, and I couldn’t help but run my fingernails down his chest. He slowly backed us to the bed, laying me down onto his soft silken sheets, and that’s when it happened.
