by Vivien Vale
It's the middle of the night and the city is pitch black aside from flickering lights that come from the various skyscrapers.
I'm surrounded by my artistic mess and it feels good. I want to call Claire. Not to apologize, nor to admit my wrongdoing, but to invite her over here so I can fuck her hard and have makeup sex.
I'm in no position to offer that considering our fight. Maybe if I had some claim to her, but she and I are not even an item. As far as I know, things between us are dead.
I take a break to have a whiskey as she dominates my thoughts.
To think of never seeing her again feels like the wrong decision. What is she doing to me to haunt my thoughts like this?
I don't get wrapped up in women, especially ones that fight with me like that. She should know her place and not to defy me. But then, Claire's a bit of a wild card and I knew that before going into this.
She's artistic and strong. She does what she wants. And she's a free spirit if I've ever seen one. And I guess I have to respect that, as much as I want to control her.
I work all night and have my ideas clearly defined by the time morning light hits my office.
It's time to go home. I've been running all night away from our argument, away from Claire. I put my everything into this campaign and it's basically wrapped up.
Either Velvet Luxe will love it or they will hate it, but a part of me still really wants to beat Claire.
I still want to buy her company so that she will know that ultimately I was right.
Claire
I feel like the walls are closing in.
Nothing's been the same since my argument with Liam. He's the last person on this earth I want to fight with. To make things worse, I was maybe starting to fall for him and now all of that is ruined.
I pace around my office and tell myself it's for the best. Maybe life has spared me from loving him because I’d only get hurt in the end. He's not someone you fall for, he's someone you fuck.
He hasn't called or anything, and I guess I don't really expect him to. Our argument seemed to put an end to all that’s between us. We had a good run and now it's suddenly over.
I do, however, have one more course of action. I can work as hard as ever on this campaign and be sure to win it so that this company will benefit. I’d love to win this and show Liam that my way of working is better.
He was so smug talking about how I don't know how to run a business. He might be right but who actually says that to somebody's face? The bitterness of what happened engulfs me and I feel as mad at him as ever.
At the same time, there's this aching hole in my heart that can only be filled by him. I know I wasn't his girlfriend or anything, but the idea of not seeing him anymore nearly devastates me.
This is a truth I can hardly admit to myself, much less anybody else. When I started going out with him, I thought I had it all controlled. But now I don’t know anymore.
Charlotte comes in to check on me and she brings me some tea which I thankfully take. She knows what happened between Liam and I and she's been my shoulder to cry on.
"You okay?" she asks.
I try to come off as cool, calm, and collected when the truth is I'm shattered inside.
"Of course I'm okay. I'm not gonna let a guy like that get to me. It wasn't going anywhere anyway. I think it's for the best. Besides, it's motivated me to really want this campaign...for personal reasons."
She looks at me like she doesn't believe a word of what I'm saying and that's the virtue of having a best friend. She can see past all my bullshit and into the core of who I am. I can't hide anything from her. But also, I don’t need to say it directly to her, which I am grateful for.
"Okay then, I'll just leave you to work. You're gonna crush it," she says.
I sip my tea and try to get inspired. It's hard to think about lingerie when you have no one to share it with.
I decide to use that as part of my theme for the campaign. I'm going to feature a woman, a model, who seems forlorn, without love. And over the course of the ad, she’ll come to find a man who completes her. He offers her the lingerie and they live happily ever after.
My commercial is going to tell a story, my story. And all the advertising around it will center on this romantic kind of love.
If anything useful has come from Liam and I's break up it's the fact that I have this new idea for the campaign. It should be based on love. What is lingerie if not to be seen by the person you most care about?
I work throughout the morning on my idea but the details are just overwhelming. I think again about Liam's advice. He suggested that I delegate things to the other designers in my company.
I'm going to take him up on that but I'm glad he's not here to see. I’m actually starting to think he might be right.
I call Charlotte over the intercom and she appears in my doorway.
"What's up?"
"I'd like to call a meeting in the conference room with everybody. I think I'm going to loosen the reins a little bit on this project," I say to her disbelieving face.
"Wow, you're going to spread the work around huh? You've never done that before."
"Well, I have the basic premise down but it's going to take a lot to pull the entire campaign together. And I think I'm willing to take a risk on our designers," I say.
Charlotte looks pleased as if she's been waiting for this day for a long time. I wonder why she never said anything about this if she agrees on the idea.
"Okay great," she says. "I'll call everybody into the conference room and we'll meet you there."
"Perfect."
I gather all my materials and think again about Liam. He was actually right. I don't have to do everything myself. I don't have to hold the world on my shoulders. Having this insight is a giant relief.
I wish I could tell him about this revelation but my pride keeps me from calling him. I don't need more of a bruised ego than I already have.
He knows how to hurt me, just like he knows how to make me explode into wave upon wave of pleasurable orgasm. Liam, like Charlotte, is someone that I can't hide from. He seems to understand me in this unspoken way.
He grounds me and keeps me centered. I imagine the feeling of his strong arms around my body and I miss him.
But it's over. I've wrecked that. I may never see him again and I'm feeling like it was all my fault.
As much as it pains me, I don’t have time for this sentiment right now. I have work to do. I store my feelings away and gather my mess of things and take it all into the conference room where everybody's waiting for me.
"Hi everyone, thanks for coming. I've decided to do something a little different with his Velvet Luxe project. I have the basic idea here in my notes, but I need some help. So, for the designers in the room, I'd like you to go beyond your normal scope of work for me and really help with this project. I think if we work together we can make it really insane and really fierce."
"Wow," my graphic designer says. "You've never delegated anything this big before, Claire. This is a really big step for you."
"We're excited to get to work on this," my designer, Brian says.
Their enthusiasm really touches me. I don't know why I couldn't depend on them like this earlier. I guess I first needed to see that not everything has to be done by me.
I'm giving up control and I have to say it feels good. I guess Liam has taught me that. He's so in control all the time that I guess with him, I can finally release.
This can carry through to my business where I see, by the enthusiasm on everyone's faces, that it's okay to assign tasks to different people and I can trust that it will get done.
I like this new set up because I don’t have to deviate much from my usual work practice, but at the same time, I don’t have to be so overwhelmed by accomplishing the whole projects by myself.
I think it's time for a little speech.
"And you guys, I just want to say thank you for everything. All these years that we've worked toge
ther, you've really supported me and my dream for this business. You all could be making a lot of money somewhere else, at a bigger firm, but you chose to stick with me here at Epica.
“I know everyone's aware of our financial situation and if we don't get this big client our doors will have to close. I don't want to harp on the dire situation but I think you should know how grateful I am for the years of service and friendship and loyalty you've given me."
It feels good to express my gratitude to my team of employees. At the same time, this meeting stings with sadness because my dream may fade if we don't get funding soon.
The rest of the meeting is a rush of excitement and ideas. Everyone's brainstorming on how to make the campaign even more perfect. Working together feels better than ever and I know it will be my new way of doing things going forward.
What's better than a group of designers feeding off each other and motivating each other to reach new heights?
Liam
I brace myself against the cold New York City wind.
Winter is starting to fall over the city. It’s going to be dark nights and cold days.
I flip the collar of my trench coat up to try to protect myself from the elements. I don’t mind the cold. In fact, I enjoy it. Shorter days mean longer nights to do filthy things between the sheets.
This leads me to think of Claire, of course. She’s always on my mind, no matter how hard I try to escape her.
I haven’t seen her since our fight, and I don’t expect to. It’s as if she’s vanished from my life entirely, and our time together was nothing more than a dream.
It had to end sometime. I had to wake up. She’s enchanting, but I don’t do monogamy.
I tuck into a café that was recommended to me by a friend. Apparently, they have the best coffee in town.
I walk into the place, and it’s pretty packed. I order an Americano and sit by the window to read the paper.
Just as I’m reading up on the current political landscape, I see her walk in.
Claire. Fuck.
How did she find this place? Why are we both here at the same time? What is the universe trying to tell me?
I look at her steadily as she makes her way to the counter and shakes out her blonde hair. The mess of blonde waves makes her look as enchanting as ever, as if she’s just rolled out of bed. I’m only wishing it was my bed, and that the fight never happened.
She has a wild mane that matches her personality. Claire, I’ve learned, is not someone you can contain. She is a free spirit in every sense of the phrase, fitting for her artistic talents.
She’s a nonconformist for sure, and while I’ve come to respect that, it doesn’t stop me from wanting to enforce my own rules upon her. Seeing her now, just steps away from me, makes me want to wrap her in my arms and never let her go.
She can be free as long as she always comes back to me. She can be free outside of my bedroom. She can be free as long as she knows that ultimately, she’s mine.
The details of our fight fly out the window. I can’t resist her beautiful face and her beautiful soul any longer.
I let her order her coffee, and she spins around to see me sitting by the window, staring at her with darkened eyes.
I can almost feel her heart stop. I sense her shock and attraction to me. We might be mad at each other, but the sparks flying between us are undeniable.
She grabs her coffee and walks over to me with confidence.
“Hey, you,” she says nonchalantly. “What are you doing here?”
I stand and kiss her cheek, putting our differences aside enough to be a gentleman. I offer her the seat across from me, and she takes it.
“I just heard about this place and thought I’d try it. What about you?” I say.
“Same.”
“So, how have you been?” I ask, though I try to remain aloof.
I stare into her dazzling eyes and wonder if she remembers all the times that we were together. Does she remember the way my hands slid so expertly across her body? Does she remember the way it felt to kiss me?
“I’ve been okay. Just working away. I actually took your advice and brought my whole team onto the Velvet Luxe campaign.”
I’m taken aback. I’m surprised that she took my advice, and I’m more surprised that she’s admitting it to me now. Maybe it’s her way of waving the white flag?
I decide to be honest with her as well. “To tell you the truth, I took some of your advice, as well. I reimagined the campaign and worked on it myself. I haven’t done that in years. It felt pretty good.”
She smiles at my admission, and I know I did the right thing in telling her the truth.
She and I have an undeniable connection. I hated arguing with her, but it seems like some good came of it. She actually took my advice.
“That’s great,” she says, genuinely pleased. “Well, I guess I should take off. I have to get to work.”
She’s trying to escape again. Why is Claire always running from me? What is she afraid of?
I grab her hand as she turns to go and say, “Claire, come on. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. Let me take you out tonight. Let me make up for our fight.”
She eyes me cautiously, and I wonder if she’ll accept the invitation or if she’s done with me for good.
I squeeze her hand, and her eyes turn a deep shade of blue as she thinks about my offer.
“Okay, Liam, that sounds really nice. Text me later?”
I release her hand, and with that, she’s out the door and on the frigid streets of New York.
I’m pleased that I’ve cemented a date. I myself go back to the office, but instead of working, I spend some time putting together a perfect evening for Claire and me.
She mentioned before that she feels uncomfortable within the confines of my glamorous lifestyle, so I determine that I’ll take my own car, my Porsche, to pick her up. No limousines tonight.
I text her early, around six, and tell her I’ll be there soon to pick her up.
She’s waiting for me outside of her apartment.
Tonight, she’s wearing a long red, silk dress with very thin straps. I can see the outline of her breasts underneath the thin fabric.
It turns me on so much, but I know that I can’t take her here. I need to wine and dine her first.
She gets in the car, and I say, “Shall I take you for a spin around the city? You can see what this car can really do.”
“Yes!” she exclaims.
I smile. She has an obvious need for speed, and that’s something I can deliver.
I step on the gas and race through the streets. I take the corners sharply and drive the car through abandoned alleyways, anywhere that I can find some leverage to hit the gas.
She seems to enjoy the ride. I steal glances at her from time to time, my eyes drawn to her gorgeous face, her glossy lips parted in delight, and her gently heaving chest. I imagine that her heart has been beating wildly this whole crazy ride.
I want to take her hand and to place it on my cock.
But I don’t. I hold back. And it takes all my willpower to do so.
Finally, I drive the Porsche up to a little Italian restaurant. The valet parks it, and I take her inside.
Once there, amid the intimate confines of the candlelit atmosphere, I’m able to finally touch her. I reach across the table and hold her hand.
Her eyes glimmer at my touch, and I know we’re both feeling the same thing. We had a big fight, and it’s like the unspoken elephant in the room, but nothing has changed in terms of our attraction.
I want her. She wants me.
But neither of us is gonna be the first to say it.
The sexual tension is at an all-time high.
“How about I order us some wine?” I ask.
“Sure, that sounds great.”
I order us a less-than-expensive vintage, again wanting to tone things down for the sake of Claire. I hope she’s taking note of the way I’m trying to appear more like a
normal man.
There’s nothing normal about me, of course, but I don’t want to scare her away with my extravagant lifestyle. I should’ve known and predicted that she would find it hard to fit in with all the glitz and glamour.
I don’t know why she would feel that way, though, considering she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, and I’ve been out with models and actresses.
Claire is more amazing than all of them. I want her to know that.
We split a bottle of wine and eat some pasta. We make small talk, not wanting to go too deep.
Finally, she says, “This was really great, Liam. Thanks for a nice evening.”
I look at her. Doesn’t she know? Can’t she see that I want more?
This evening is not nearly close to being over.
“It’s not over yet, Claire,” I say grazing my hand along her thigh underneath the table. She shivers at my touch, and again, I like it.
I’ve come to expect her to feel nervous around me. It means she knows that I’m powerful and that I can do things to her no other man can.
“Where are we going?” she asks.
“To the opera,” I say, paying the bill.
“The opera? I’m not dressed for the opera,” she tries to protest.
“Actually, you are,” I say pulling her towards the door. “Luckily, you wore a long dress tonight.”
The Porsche is waiting, and we get in. I speed through the streets until we arrive at the Metropolitan Opera House.
We’re seated in a special VIP box that is very out of the way of everyone else.
“This is amazing,” she says looking over the edge of the balcony. “It’s so beautiful in here.”
She’s starting to warm up to me, I think. It’s hard to be sure.
Once the lights go down and the curtain goes up, I get my answer because Claire falls to her knees between my legs and starts to unzip me.
It’s such a fucking turn on. She’s going to suck my cock right here in the opera house.
