Girls Just Want To Have Fun: 5 Hot BWWM Romance Stories In 1

by BWWM Club

  “He just started being a bit abusive. He would corner me in shows and maybe the angry phone call which I now realize I should have probably reported…but it was never serious until that day he came to the office.”

  The judge raised an eyebrow over the other.

  “What happened?”

  “Well, he came in and accused me of costing him business…normal competitive stuff but everything escalated a little too quickly and he was pinning me against the wall threatening me and everything. It was scary and honestly I just don’t know what would have happened if Adrian didn’t walk in at that moment,” she said.

  “Judging by your story, I don’t see why you would want to drop your suit,” the judge said matter of factly.

  “Well, it is just that suing for assault…that’s the kind of thing that follows you and your family around,” she said.

  “And?” the judge pressed.

  “And I did'nt want his family to have to pay for his terrible life choices,” she said.

  He looked at her and nodded.

  “Miss Carter, I totally understand what is going on but you do realize that the person who filed the suit has to be the one to pull it, right?” he asked.

  “The suit is actually an assault case against me,” she said, a little confused.

  “Yes but you are not the one who filed it, that’s simply what I’m saying.”

  Angelina rubbed her temple.

  “I’m sorry, Judge Michaelson, but I have to ask, how exactly was a third party, who I must add was not even present when the assault happened, a credible person to file the case?” she asked.

  The judge took a long deep breath.

  “Well, I know Adrian from way back in the day and when he said that you were too upset to come forward and there was the witness.”

  “Who? Matt?” she asked.

  “Yes, your assistant?” he said. “Sometimes we kind of have to make the hard choice.”

  She shook her head. She was getting angrier with Adrian with every word that came out of the judge’s mouth. Adrian Corday was literally controlling her life.

  “I suppose there is nothing I can do now, is there?” she asked.

  “You could talk to Mr. Corday,” the judge said.

  “I could but…” she let her voice trail off. She had no idea what she was supposed to say. “It’s complicated.”

  “So Adrian has been hiding a girlfriend,” he said with a smile.

  “I’m not his girlfriend,” Angelina snapped.

  “Really?” There was something in his voice that proved to Angelina that he didn’t really buy her story.

  “It’s complicated,” she said quickly.

  “I understand that a lot of things are complicated when it comes to you and Mr. Corday,” the judge said.

  She almost rolled her eyes at him.

  “I’ll have a talk with Ad…Mr. Corday and see what I can do about everything.” She stood up and forced a smile. “Thank you for making the time to meet me, Mr. Michaelson.”

  “Please, call me Everett. Any friend of Adrian’s is a friend of mine,” he said.

  She almost felt herself blush before she walked out of the office. She pulled her phone out of her purse as she walked to the elevator. She scrolled Olivia’s name and then began to text.

  I’m free for the day. Want to meet up for lunch?

  She had just climbed into the driver’s seat of her car before she heard her phone buzz loudly in her purse. She took her phone out of her purse and looked at the screen.

  Sure. Luciano’s? I’m in the mood for some good Italian food.

  Angelina smiled.

  Deal.

  *****

  Angelina took a long sip of her wine as she looked at Olivia, sitting across from her.

  “What are you trying to do? Ruin yourself?” she asked as she took a bite of her chicken lasagna. “You keep this up and you could end up dead or worse.”

  Angelina couldn’t help but smile.

  “What’s worse than death?” she asked.

  “He could disfigure you and you would be ugly for life,” Olivia said.

  “Really, that’s worse than death?” Angelina asked. “Heard of reconstructive surgery?”

  “Whatever…I just don’t understand why you are trying to let the man go free,” she pointed out. Angelina took a long deep breath. No one understood her reason for wanting to do what she was doing. It was important to her that people understood it was all about saving his family from the imminent embarrassment.

  “I want Carlton to pay for what he did. I just don’t want him to drag those two innocent perfect girls down with him,” she said. “In this day and age, there is the obvious threat that is the internet.”

  Olivia looked at her and shrugged.

  “What did the judge say?” she asked.

  “That I have to talk to the person who filed it, in this case, Adrian,” she said.

  “And you don’t think that he will go for it,” Olivia pointed out and Angelina nodded.

  “If he could, he would have Carlton’s head on a silver platter. Plus, Judge Everett Michaelson is kind of buddy-buddy with Adrian.”

  “Really? Is he like a hot young guy? Because I don’t picture Adrian friends with some judge.” Olivia was frowning as she looked at her.

  “He is actually in his late forties maybe early fifties,” Angelina started. “But I have to say that he is quite the looker. He kind of has a George Clooney effect,” she added with a smile.

  “Do you have a crush on him?” Olivia asked pointing at her with her fork.

  “No, I don’t but trust me…he is something. You should Google him,” she started but Olivia was already on her phone.

  “So that’s Everett Michaelson? M-I-C-H-A-E-L-S-O-N?” Angelina was smiling as she nodded.

  “Right on,” she said.

  “Holy shit…he doesn’t have the George Clooney effect,” Olivia said in a rather loud whisper. “He is George Clooney,” she added excitedly. She looked at her best friend and smiled. “If I wasn’t with Alex…” Angelina picked up her glass before she could say whatever was on her mind.

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Too bad he is in the picture right?” She took a long sip.

  “So, what are you going to do about the whole Adrian situation?” Olivia asked, still looking at her phone.

  “I can’t think about that right now,” she said, because she knew that she was going to have a headache if she began thinking about that.

  Chapter 2

  If there was a word that Adrian Corday didn’t recognize in his vocabulary, it was the word nervous. He had never understood the essence of anxiety. It only meant that you didn’t believe in yourself enough about what you were doing. But on that Thursday morning, he was actually a little nervous. He was about to get information that he had been waiting on for almost an entire week.

  Earlier that month, on one of his many travels to Europe, he had seen a beautiful painting that reminded him a little of the artists in the Renaissance era. It was not as big and glamorous as the Mona Lisa but it was in its own perfect way loud and attractive. He could not help but see some potential in it. He was not sure why but the painting kind of spoke to him in its own special way. It might have been a bit of a rushed purchase but he could not help it. Even the vendor on the gallery he had bought the painting in was surprised when Adrian showed his interest on the small painting.

  “But sir, this one is no good,” the vendor had tried convincing him. “It is just one of those pieces you come by and…it is more of a private thing really.”

  But Adrian was adamant. He wanted that piece. He needed that piece.

  “Name your price,” he said as he looked at him.

  “Seriously?” the vendor might have been as surprised as Adrian was unwavering.

  “Yes. Name your price,” Adrian said again. The man looked at the piece and then at Adrian.

  “Fifteen hundred dollars,” he said without thinking. Something about the wa
y he quickly gave his quote spoke volumes to Adrian, like probably he was quoting a price he didn’t think he would get.

  “Sold,” Adrian said with a smile. The man looked at him as if he had just been told he had hit the jackpot. And he might as well have. “What would you prefer? Cash or check?” Adrian asked the still stunned vendor.

  “I guess…I guess cash will be alright,” the vendor said, still sounding unsure.

  Adrian reached into his pocket and counted twenty hundred dollar notes before he handed the money to the vendor.

  “I only asked for fifteen hundred,” he said, looking confused.

  “I know.” Adrian was looking at the painting as if it had been the most prized possession in the world. “I just thought I would make it an even two thousand.”

  After he came back from Europe, the only thing he wanted to know was whether he had made the right call or just thrown two grand on what was essentially a piece of crap. He looked for the top curator in Europe and flew him out to the States from Italy and tasked him with determining whether or not the painting was actually authentic or a piece of crap.

  The curator had spent almost an entire week before getting back to him. He was having a mixture of emotions as he looked at him.

  “So, what is going on? Is this thing genuine or is it one of those strangely annoying pricey mistakes that I make every once in a while?” he asked when the curator Elijah Rossi walked into his office.

  “Well, Mr. Corday, it seems that this time the stars were aligned,” he said with a smile. Adrian raised an eyebrow at him. He was not sure Elijah could see it, but he was feeling a little excited and anxious at the same time. “The paint used in the piece has no traces of any nuclear agents or anything of the sort,” he said.

  “What does this mean?” Adrian asked, confused and excited at the same time.

  “It means that at the very least, this painting dates back to before the First World War,” Elijah said. “We may not be able to determine exactly when the painting was done but I can tell that it is at least a hundred years old.”

  Adrian leaned back in his chair and gently stroked his chin.

  “How can you be sure about that?” he asked.

  “The canvas it is on is dark…very dark which is an indicator of all those years it has lived through. Apart from this, there is the wood it is nailed to…everything about the painting is a dead giveaway. That is an old painting, Mr. Corday.”

  “Just a hundred years? That wouldn’t get much in any market,” Adrian said.

  “Perhaps.” Elijah reached into his bag and pulled out his iPad. “This is a photo I took of the painting. I took quite a number but this one is the money shot,” he said as he zoomed in on the photograph. He handed the iPad to Adrian.

  “I don’t understand. What am I looking at?” he asked.

  “The signature of the artist who did this,” Elijah said. “Or maybe the owner of the piece,” he added.

  Adrian squinted.

  “That looks like Jacques Rousseau. Wait, the philosopher?”

  “It could very well be one of the pieces once owned by Jacques Rousseau or it could have been done by a Jacques Rousseau, an artist who once worked on pieces that he later hung on the walls of the Livadia Palace,” Elijah said with a smile.

  “Wait…isn’t that the summer palace that the Romanovs used to own before they were all murdered?” Adrian asked raising an eyebrow.

  “Yes. In Crimea.”

  “So what you are trying to say is that the artist in question could have been all buddy-buddy with the Russian royal family?” Adrian asked, still not sure whether he should have believed what he was saying.

  “That is exactly what I am saying.” Elijah seemed a little proud of himself.

  “But that could be an urban legend.”

  Elijah shrugged.

  “Yes it could be, but so could the fact that the Grand Duchess Anastasia Romanov actually survived the brutal execution of her family. No one can ever really know what happened to the Romanov girl the same way that no one can ever really know whether this is a Jacques Rousseau the philosopher’s painting or a piece of art that once adorned the wall of a palace.” He looked at Adrian who was still looking at the iPad. “Either way Mr. Corday, that painting is probably worth not less than two hundred grand at the very least.”

  “Maybe it is a good thing that I have it stored away in my safe,” Adrian thought.

  Adrian handed the iPad back to the man and sighed loudly. He looked at him and then reached for the top drawer of his desk from where he pulled out an envelope.

  “It’s all there, Elijah,” he said, handing the envelope to the curator.

  “It was good doing business with you once again, Mr. Corday,” Elijah said as he put the envelope and the iPad back in his pack before he stood up.

  “The pleasure was all mine.” Adrian was not sure if Elijah could see the happiness in his eyes. This was probably what he had been working towards all these years. All he had to do, was to create a buzz about the piece and then hold a gala. It would not only be the biggest sale of his life but also the best kind of publicity The Parisian would ever get.

  When Elijah walked out, he picked up his phone and dialed Angelina. He wanted to call her but then he thought of sending a quick text instead.

  Passing by in a few minutes. I need to see you.

  He then got up from his char and then walked out.

  *****

  Angelina could not help but wonder why Adrian had decided to pass by the gallery. There was no way of knowing whether this was going to be one of those weird middle of the day booty calls or whether this was actually a serious call. She had just finished signing the last checks when she stood up and walked to the private bathroom in her office. She didn’t really need to go but she wanted to see her reflection, not that anything was wrong with how she looked.

  She had chosen to wear a pair of navy blue cotton pants and a sleeveless button down fitting top that showed off her perfect cleavage and her small waist. Her hair was held back in a loose bun to reveal her silver studs. Her ass was especially elevated thanks to the black stiletto heels she had on. She had just walked out of the bathroom when she heard a soft knock on the door. She squared her shoulders and walked over to the door to open it.

  “Good morning,” Adrian said with a smile. “You realize you do not have to personally answer the door, right?”

  “I was in the bathroom. I just happened to be on my way back to my desk when you knocked,” she said. “And a good morning to you too,” she added as he walked in. She closed the door and she had just begun walking back to her desk when he suddenly held her upper arm and pulled her back to him before he pinned her to the door, making her gasp. She looked at him, panting as he looked into her eyes.

  “What…” she started to ask when he suddenly brought his head down and claimed her lips in one deep glorious kiss. His tongue was seeking hers out and he had a hand grasping at her ass, squeezing it. She could feel his cock pressing hard against her thigh. It was just a kiss but it was a well-executed one too. She was breathless when he finally pulled away.

  “Is this a booty call?” she asked in a whisper as he looked into her eyes.

  “Why on earth would you ever think that?” he asked still holding her against him.

  “It’s just you called and you….kissing me like this….and…” she never got a chance to finish what she was saying.

  “So, now I can’t say hello to my woman?” he asked with a smile.

  “That was a hello kiss?” she asked.

  “And baby there is a whole lot more where that came from.” Adrian was whispering as he talked to her. It was the kind of hushed whisper that made her a little aroused. She could feel the dampness in her panties.

  “I don’t know what I am supposed to say,” Angelina said in a small voice.

  “Don’t say anything,” he said before he kissed her again. “Now, come on. We have much business to discuss,” he added as he
pulled away and began walking towards her desk. She was left dazed, wondering what had just happened.

  “What kind of business? I wasn’t aware we had anything planned for today…at least, Matt never mentioned anything.” She was now walking back to her chair.

  “I didn’t go through Matt,” he said as he sat down in front of her desk.

  She looked at him and shrugged.

  “Well, what is this business that you have to discuss?” she asked.

  “It’s been a while since The Parisian held a gala don’t you think?”

  “We’ve only been open for a couple of months and in that time we have had a number of shows and one gala. I think that we are doing quite well so far,” she said.

  “Well, there is no reason why we can’t stage another? After all, it is not like you can ever have enough parties,” Adrian pointed out.

  “So, when do you suggest we have this gala?” she asked.

  “Next Friday.” Adrian said without batting an eyelid.

  “I’m sorry…it sounded like you said next Friday.”

  “That is exactly what I said.”

  “That is less than two weeks away. I need at least six weeks to have a successful gala…plus there are all the logistics involved. Like I have to get a high seller to draw in the big money…” she gasped again. “I cannot do all that in two weeks. It is impossible,” she concluded raising her hands up.

  “Well, that is where I come in,” Adrian said.

  “I know you really want to prove you are my knight in shining armor and all…but seriously this is really hard stuff. You can’t just snap your fingers and make it happen, Adrian.”

  “Actually, that is exactly how I operate.”

  “What? You snap your fingers and make things happen?”

  “Something of the sort yes.”

  “But even if that is your means of operation, Adrian, what guarantee can you give me that I will not have a gala with four people? You, me, Matt and Olivia.” Angelina didn’t realize but she was talking to him in a way that no one ever had. She was questioning him and also disagreeing with him.

  “Trust me when I tell you that next Friday The Parisian will be the talk of the town. I am talking about a two hundred person guest list,” he said.