Girls Vs. Love

by Mona Cox

  Aw. Maybe she's right.

  "Fine," I say, rolling my eyes. "He took me upstairs to his hotel room, okay?"

  Fine?

  That's the word I came up with?

  Little does she know how much I'm so holding back. How last night was like...

  "Fine?" Ashley asks in between mouthfuls. "Like Mr. Super Hot Billionaire and you end up having drinks at super chi-chi Upper East Side bar and all you can come up with is, 'he took you upstairs to his room'?"

  The look of incredulity on her face is very, very real. It would probably be really like heart wrenching if she wasn't busy chewing mouthfuls of chicken.

  "Okay, babe," I say to her, resigned to having to spill the beans, but also kinda relieved. "Yes, if you wanna know, we totally went to his room and fucked."

  "I knew it!" Ashley exclaims with triumph. I don't know at what, but her eyes are twinkling. "Tell me everything!"

  I guess I'm sorta glad that she gives me like a few seconds to scoop up as much food into my mouth as possible. I mean, she does the same thing.

  Yeah, we really shouldn't be eating this. It's like fine now when we're young probably, but like in ten years this is going to be like the reason I have no thigh gap.

  But in the meantime, what do I tell Ashley now?

  "I mean," I start out not really sure what to say. "He pulled out his cock. He stuck it in my pussy. We came. You know, like sex."

  Ashley rolls her eyes. "I mean, did he have a nice cock?" she asks me. "Was it big? OMG did it have tattoos?"

  What the fuck? I'm not just thinking that, either.

  "What the fuck?" I ask her. "Why would he tattoo his dick?"

  "Was it big?" she keeps asking.

  Oh my God it was so huge. I could bounce on that thing all day, you know? I dunno if I should tell Ashley that; I mean, she's my friend but I sound like such a slut when I think how much I can't stop thinking about his cock.

  "Wow Alicia, just the starry look on your face tells me all I need to know," Ashley says, finishing up the last of her food and closing the container and still somehow staring at me. "You look like you just want to be such a slut for his cock."

  I'm about to protest, but I look at the time. Shit. I have a meeting with Nadia.

  "I gotta go, babe," I tell Ashley, finishing up the rest of my food in several quick gulps. Ashley looks a bit surprised.

  "Hey Alicia, it's okay," she says. "I'm actually happy for you, babe. You know that right?"

  I look over. There is genuine concern and care for me. We're like sisters. We may tease each other mercilessly, but at the end of the day, having Ashley in New York City makes the big city feel so much smaller.

  "I know babe, but I have a meeting with my manager in like 5 minutes," I tell Ashley as I get up.

  "Okay," she says. "Try to not think about billionaire cock all day, babe," she tells me and smirks. I guess that's her form of goodbye.

  Whatever. My mind has already switched back into work mode as I cross the street toward where the Carter Jeffries headquarters sits.

  I mean, I wonder why Nadia called me in for a meeting. I'm thinking about it every step of the way. Even in the elevator. And with each step to her office.

  "Alicia, good you're here," Nadia says getting up from her desk when I step foot in her office. She walks over and closes the door as I sit down. "We only have half an hour so I'll keep this brief," she says.

  I nod. Most internal meetings usually last for half an hour nowadays. Everyone is always so stressed out with too much to do.

  "I know you've been...close...to Derek Lowell," Nadia starts and I look up at her with alarm. Is she going to chew me out for yesterday night? My heart starts to beat. Adrenaline starts coursing through my blood.

  "And that's why I need you to work on a special project for me," Nadia finishes.

  I look at her with curiosity. What could she want from me?

  "There's a delicate situation with the Lowell accounts, and I need someone I can trust to do a line by line and thorough analysis on it," Nadia says.

  I can't believe it.

  Am I being given like more responsibility?

  "This is a great deal more responsibility for you," Nadia says, almost reading my thoughts. "And it's very sensitive. You can't tell anyone what you're working on. Including Derek Lowell, himself."

  I nod. A lot of things the company does are on a need to know business. I can handle that!

  "Because of the higher level of access required, I'm promoting you from an Analyst to an Associate, effective immediately," Nadia says, her eyes twinkling. I sit there in shock as she continues. "HR will get all the paperwork by the end of the week and your new title will be effective in two weeks. I'm sure they'll have to bump your salary to match the promotion," she says.

  All I can do is sit there and nod. Like an idiot. I mean, you're usually supposed to spend three years minimum as an Analyst before even being considered for a promotion. I've spent a year and a half.

  "That's all," Nadia says. "Go celebrate for a few minutes. Call your folks if you want. Then get to work. And congratulations."

  I walk out of Nadia's office in a daze at so much good karma happening.

  I mean, the best sex of my life last night.

  Promotion this afternoon.

  What could possibly be next?

  7

  Derek

  “How much?” I ask Anderson, one of the most loyal lawyers in my retinue. We’ve been working hard on trying to track down the embezzler—and the extent of the damages—but the whole thing is proving to be trickier than I thought.

  “From what I’ve gathered so far… I’d say $30 million at least, and that just over last year. Of course, that’s just an estimate; I’m not really sure on how deep the rabbit hole goes at this point.”

  “Jesus…” I whisper, leaning back against the chair. I tap my fingers against the flat surface of the desk, trying to consider the implications of what Anderson just told me. $30 million doesn’t even make a dent on my net worth, but the fact that someone has managed to steal that much money under my nose… Well, that’s worrying, to say the least.

  “The worst part is that whoever is doing this really knows what they’re doing,” Anderson continues, folding his finger as a scowl takes over his face. I can’t help but worry; he’s always been one of my most levelheaded and rational advisors, and to see him this preoccupied … “So far, the only thing we’ve managed to ascertain for sure is that the problem lies inside Carter Jeffries.”

  “We need to keep this under wraps, Anderson. We proceed on a strictly need-to-know basis from now on.” It’s a pain in the ass to launch a secret investigation like this ... especially when I handed over $4.4 billion of my own money to Carter Jeffries, confident that having them manage it would take some work off of my plate ... But this can’t be helped; I need to know what’s happening, and I can’t risk raising any red flags before we get to the bottom of this. But you know what pisses me off the most about this whole thing? The fact that I can’t tell Alicia.

  My knee-jerk reaction would be to run this whole situation by her; she’s part of the team running my funds after all, but I can’t risk it. I already told her that someone was embezzling money from me, and I should’ve kept my mouth shut. Nothing good will come out of this, and I don’t think that putting her right in the middle of a clusterfuck of a situation like this will help matters.

  I don’t even know why in the world I’m so worried about her, but I am. And to think that nothing would've happened between us if my limo hadn’t broken down in the first place. Bad things happen for a reason, sometimes.

  “We’ll figure it out, sir,” Anderson tells me, getting up from his chair and extending me his hand. I shake it, and then lean back against the chair as he leaves from my office. I sigh loudly, trying to push away all concerns from my mind. If it weren’t for the fact that I met Alicia, hiring Carter Jeffries would prove to be one costly mistake.

  Before I even
know what I’m doing, I have my cellphone in my hands and I’m scrolling down the contacts list. I stop when I find ALICIA flashing on the screen, and my thumb hovers over the screen. I’m not sure if being with her is the wisest decision, taking into account everything that’s happening, but I can’t help it. Besides, I need to unwind.

  I press her name and take the cellphone to my ear, tapping my foot on the carpeted floor as I hear the first ring tone. The phone rings endlessly, and I’m about to give up when I finally hear her voice from the other side of the line.

  “Derek?”

  “That’s me. I want to see you, Alicia,” I tell her, not bothering to beat around the bush. Although, to be honest, it’s not a question of want; I need to see her. I’m just not sure about the why. I have dated actresses, top models, and always had my pick of the litter, but I've never felt so drawn to a woman as I do to her.

  There’s silence from the other side of the line, as if she’s thinking of the right thing to say. “I’m at the gym now… I’m not sure if it’s a good time,” she stammers, but I cut her short.

  “I’ll pick you up,” I tell her curtly, my mind already trying to imagine how she must look in tight yoga pants and a skimpy tank top. Just thinking of that is enough for my cock to twitch inside my pants.

  “Are you sure, Derek?”

  “I’m sure. In fact, I’m on my way. Just text me the directions.”

  “See you soon, then,” she tells me, and I can almost taste the anticipation in her voice.

  *

  When the limo grinds to a halt in front of Alicia’s gym, she’s already waiting for me, her bag hanging from her shoulder. She has already changed into tight jeans and a casual sweater, and I can’t help but regret that I won’t get to see her in either yoga pants or tight gym shorts.

  “Something happened?” she asks me as she steps inside the limo, the scent of her perfume making me dizzy. It reminds me of the taste of her lips on mine, strawberry and lust… I just want to lean in and kiss her neck.

  “No,” I tell her with a smile. “I just wanted to see you.”

  “You’re not growing needy on me, are you?” she asks me with a teasing smile, and I can’t help but smile back at her.

  “I need what I need, Alicia,” I tell her, reaching for her hand and placing mine on top of it. “How was your day?”

  “It went great…! I got promoted, so there’s that.”

  “Promoted? That's great news; maybe we should celebrate,” I tell her with a grin, squeezing her hand gently. “What’s your position now? You’ll remain on my team, won’t you?”

  “Yes, uh… I’m still assigned to you, but… You know, it’s just an upgrade in my job title, nothing more than that,” she stammers, averting her gaze from mine. She’s not telling me the whole story, and I don’t like that one bit. Not at all.

  There’s something about the way Carter Jeffries operates that’s making me more and more uncomfortable with each passing day. Somehow, I have the feeling that this whole embezzling situation is just getting started … Maybe I should press her for answers, but there’s no use in that.

  She might be hiding something, but so am I.

  “Let’s grab something to eat. I’m so hungry you wouldn’t believe it,” she continues, trying to change the conversation. I put on my best smile, trying to push my suspicions to the back of my mind, and nod.

  “Sounds good.”

  In my chest, my heart is growing heavier. Can there be any connection between Alicia and the embezzler?

  8

  Alicia

  So you remember the other day when I asked you what else could go good in my life?

  When I asked you that, I had no idea what the next several days would be like.

  I mean, right now, I'm on some sort of Cloud 9.

  Let's tick off all the reasons why rubbing my ass all over Derek's cock on the subway was like the start of a remarkable upswing in my till-now single, boring, Upper East Side New York City girl, life.

  Let's see.

  First, let's get the big giant thing out of the way and say that the sex that I've been having is like freakin' off the charts good. Like life changing good.

  I mean, to describe it any other way would probably not do it enough justice. Derek just seems to know exactly the right buttons to turn me on. And then once I'm turned on, to keep me in that zone. I think in one week I've had more orgasms with him than I've had combined the last few months.

  And he's not all about sex, either. Like, we sit around and talk also. You know, for a billionaire, he's pretty down to earth. I mean there's the confidence that he possesses, which I think he would have regardless of whether he was made out of money or not. That's pretty sexy. Like, he knows exactly what he wants and how to get it.

  Sometimes, that means me too. He knows exactly what he wants me to do, or how he wants me. When he just uses me like that—uses me in a good way, of course—the orgasms just shatter my mind. I mean, it's a whole different level of pleasure that I'm getting when this guy is just completely using me as a sex toy. In the process he's just making me cum my brains out. To the point where I see black stars, and pass out for a few minutes. No lie, I swear. He fucks me so good that I just basically fall into a literal sex coma.

  But see, I just went back into sex again. I promise there is so much more to our relationship than just sex. This guy has basically conquered the world as far as he needs to. He's pretty much the big dog wherever he goes. So I feel safe with him. It's like the sense of security I don't get when I'm hanging out with guys my age—still trying to find themselves and such. He's a great provider, and he's always thinking about the next thing.

  What? I know that look. It's the same look Ashley gave me like last night when I was talking about him.

  "You totally love him already," she declared after like a few minutes. We were at Dos Caminos after Pilates and on our second Pina Colada.

  "I do not!" I remember telling her.

  "Then maybe try talking about something, anything, other than him for a bit, babe," she gently chided me.

  And it's so true. Like, I am totally crushing on the guy. Remember when Ashley was trying to get me to spill the beans on Derek and I didn't want to say anything?

  Well, it's like the tables are suddenly turned now and I want any ol' excuse to bring up Derek.

  I think I'm turning into one of THOSE girls. You know, the ones who can't stop talking about their boyfriends.

  But, not like Derek is my boyfriend or anything. I'm totally not thinking that.

  Besides, the only reason my mind is wandering right now is because I'm sitting in front of two computer screens looking at rows and rows of numbers and I have no idea where to start.

  I mean, so this project that Nadia is tasking me with and promoting me for has like just me on the team. And I can't tell anyone about it. I'm supposed to be looking at Derek's transactions on a individual line item level and find any inconsistencies or red flags. A lot of the transactions are automated and already pre-programmed so I have no idea what I'm looking for. Plus I'm not a tech person. So I have to go through this data bit by bit.

  This promotion is the only thing that I'm kinda thinking may have sounded better in theory than in practice. Because it's turning out to be pretty frustrating. I mean, just a little bit of excitement would be nice, you know? But I don't even know what kind of excitement I'd --

  Wait a second.

  My eyes narrow and I look closer a the spreadsheet.

  That's odd.

  Six months ago, there was an individual money transfer that was done manually. Monies from one of Derek's accounts left the country. Usually when it's this much, $1.2 million, you have to fill out some forms. But I don't see any forms declaring foreign capital outflow that the government requires attached to this transaction.

  And it looks like the money went to an offshore account based in ... North Korea?

  That can't be right. There are sanctions placed against doing bus
iness in North Korea.

  But wait.

  I start looking at the transactions in this account. Money inflows from Russia. Outflows to shell corporations that have ties to Iran. Some transactions with businesses are based out of Iraq.

  Normally, this kinda stuff would trigger automatic red flags. But I just stumbled onto this account by accident. It was literally on my screen and hidden as a sub-account in such a way that if I hadn't gone line by line, no one would ever have seen it.

  I need to tell Derek. He could be in a lot of trouble.

  I'm about to send him a text when I realize Nadia told me not to tell anyone.

  Not even Derek.

  Maybe I should go to her?

  I know that's probably the right course of action, but something is stopping me.

  Maybe I need to do a bit more work.

  Crap, you ever wish you could get a do-over?

  I'd do it over and never ask for this assignment to be exciting.

  9

  Derek

  Why do women do that? They take a few bites of food and say that they're full when they clearly aren't. Their eyes don't lie. Who do they think they're kidding? I can see the way she's looking at this spread. She's holding back, but she wants more.

  "I can't eat too much tonight," Alicia says, sitting back in her chair and patting her stomach. "Ever since I've started seeing you, I've been eating such rich foods—I mean there's butter and cream on everything, Derek! Don't you realize I'm going to have an ass the size of Texas if I keep this up?"

  We're both laughing at this point.

  "Have you taken a good look at your ass in a mirror lately?" I ask. "It's perfect. Now stop complaining and enjoy this."

  I've ordered us the Chef's Tasting Menu at Per Se tonight, and our waiter has just brought us the "Oysters and Pearls." The oysters are decadent and topped with tapioca pearls and caviar. I hold one to her lips.