by N. Michaels
Only mine.
All of a sudden, the elevator jolts back into life and the lights flash on. Our eyes squint, adjusting to the bright light. Mr. Miller rises then helps me up. The elevator reaches the garage level and only when the doors open, our hands let go. Immediately, my hand feels cold and bereft.
We step out, into the underground garage and he walks me to my car. When he sees it, he whistles.
“Wow, that’s a nice car!” Mr. Miller sounds surprised.
“What, this old thing?” I tease.
Mr. Miller gives me a look that makes me laugh.
“What can I say? I know my cars.”
“That you do.” Mr. Miller nods, as he looks at my car contently.
“Well… drive safely and I’ll see you tomorrow.” Mr. Miller smiles and holds out his hand.
I take it and shake it slowly.
“Tomorrow.” I smile.
I’m honestly excited.
I unlock my car and slide in. When I bring my baby to life, she purrs like a panther. Mr. Miller watches me as I pull out of the parking spot, making my turn to leave the garage and head home to the Archstone Clinton building.
What a day…
“Laura? I’m home.” I call out.
Laura pops out of the kitchen, “Hi baby! How was your day?” she beams.
My first reaction is to smile back just as brightly and tell her all about my day, but I remember the question that’s been bugging me since that deliveryman entered my office. I put on my serious face and narrow my eyes at her.
“Don’t baby me… I need to know, did papa ask you to come with me so you could keep tabs on me?”
Laura rolls her eyes, “Of course he did, Katya! He’s still you daddy. He wants to know his baby is ok.” She scolds me.
“Oh…” I’m shocked.
My serious face slips and a small smile picks up at the corners of my mouth.
“Yeah oh… come on, tell me about your day and I’ll warm dinner for you.”
We walk to the kitchen and I sit down at the breakfast table. Laura places dinner on the table for us and I start talking about my day. I tell her about seeing Julia and about Mr. Miller. I omit the fact that I find him insanely attractive, whatever happened in the elevator and the fact I want him all to myself. She’s has the hotline to my parents and that’s something I really don’t want them to find out. I’m very private regarding my love life, or at the moment the lack of. I do however tell her about the Miami trip. I don’t want my parents sending the National Guard and the Red Cross to locate and save me.
After devouring the mouthwatering fillet minion that was served with creamy mash potatoes, I head to my bedroom to pack.
Bathing suits, huh?
I find them in the bottom drawer of my dresser. I’ll take five of them. I move to pack some fitted business dresses I bought the day I got the job, a few separates, a few party dresses, stockings, underwear and bras. When I’m done and all packed, I head to the shower. I set my alarm to four thirty and flop down onto my bed. As I start drifting into a deep sleep, my mind goes over this unexpected day. The last thing I see before succumbing to exhaustion, are captivating turquoise eyes and intertwined hands.
I wake up to Celine Dion, singing about ‘Falling Into You’. I hit the top of the clock and it quiets down. Groaning, I tear myself away from the comfort of my warm bed.
No one should be up this early.
After brushing my teeth, I head to my closet and for the first time in a while, I don’t know what to wear. I’ve never had to fly for business, since I’ve never worked.
What to wear?
I stand in front of my closet for ten minutes, browsing my clothes, finally picking black skinny jeans, a short sleeve V-neck, button-down ivory shirt and camel blazer. I keep my make-up very minimal, mascara and a touch of blush then I brush my hair and twist it into a low messy bun. I head to the kitchen and make myself a cup of black coffee. I need to wake up. I glance at my watch, its four fifty.
I’m going to be late!
I find a small thermos cup and pour my black coffee into it. I grab my black pumps, suitcase then I’m out the door.
CHAPTER FOUR
I cruise smoothly on the I-495 E. There is no traffic, thank God. I find hangar number five, but there’s no one there except the airplane crew who are prepping the plane, that is positioned straight on the runway. I glance at my watch, its five twenty. I park my car and go back to my coffee. As I take my last sip, I notice a slick black Bentley effortlessly entering the parking area, parking right in front of my car. I look at the driver and recognize the man in a split second, its Mr. Miller. Unexpectedly, my heart starts beating out of my chest and I take a deep breath to calm it.
What the hell?
Why am I so affected by him? I never get like this. It’s really starting to scare me. Mr. Miller climbs out of his car and I do the same. When I notice he’s looking at me, I whistle.
“Wow, now that’s a hot car!” I playfully say his words back to him.
“What this ole thing?” he teases.
I giggle and shake my head.
“Seriously, what’s the model?” I’m genuinely interested.
“Bentley Continental GT V8.”
I put my hand on the hood, caressing it lightly.
“Hmm… she’s a beauty.” I nod admiringly.
When I look up, I notice a small smile is now settled on Mr. Miller’s lips and his eyes are scrutinizing my face.
“Come on, let’s go see if the plane is ready.” He prompts.
Mr. Miller is dressed casually, a dark grey V-neck t-shirt, topped with a black blazer, dark denim and black suede loafers. His hair is playfully spiked up, and a few strands fall gracefully on his forehead. I walk to the trunk of my car and get my suitcase out. Mr. Miller, ever the gentleman takes it from me. We walk into the hangar and a red haired man approaches Mr. Miller.
“Miller!” the man reaches out and they shake hands.
“How are you Damian?”
“Good, can’t complain. It will be another fifteen minutes.” He informs us.
“Damian, this is Miss Slav, my executive assistant.”
“Hello there.” Damian grins.
“Hello.” I smile politely.
“You can wait over there.” Damian waves at a small sitting area.
We thank him and enter the small, but bright room. The walls are light sand, in the corner a large leather cream sofa that is situated against the wall. Next to it is a small table with white linen tablecloth and refreshments, a big pot with coffee, cups and a small vase with daisies. Mr. Miller places my suitcase next to the sofa and sits down.
“Coffee?” I ask him.
“Please.”
“How do you take it?”
“Black, one sugar.”
As I stir the sugar, I think about the fact that he is the first person I’m making coffee for, besides myself. Weird.
I step to Mr. Miller and hand him the cup.
“Thank you.” He says softly.
“Sure, that’s why I’m here.” I smile.
I head to the window and watch the men open the plane’s door. I think about the last time I was on one of these planes, flying with Milan and Vera to Cabo. That was a fun summer.
I should call those two.
They are the most fun-loving girls I’ve ever known. They’re cousins, and we’ve known each other since the age of six. Our parents are still friends; their friendship goes back to the time when my parents were still living in Moscow.
Hmm… I’m glad some things don’t change.
Something pulls me out of my daydream. The room is suddenly filled with an upbeat music and all I can hear is, ‘I’m sexy and I know it.’
What the?
My phone!
I smile embarrassed, while yanking my cellphone out of my purse and look over at Mr. Miller. His eyes lit with amusement and he’s trying to hide a smile. I make a mental note to put my cell on vibrate while I�
�m at work.
“Hello?” I giggle.
“Hi baby! Just wanted to wish you a safe trip, you left before I got a chance to feed you.” It’s Laura, she sounds worried.
“Don’t worry about it, I’ll grab something on the way. I’ll call you once I land.”
“Ok, I’ll be waiting for your call.”
“Bye, Laura.” I hang up.
I sit on the other end of the couch, feeling a bit awkward and a moment later, Damian walks in, informing us that the plane is ready. Mr. Miller grabs my suitcase and we make our way to the plane. As I’m walking, I realize Mr. Miller is not following me. I stop in front of the plane’s stairs and turn around to look for him, but instead I find my suitcase in front of me. I look up, my eyes scanning the lot for him, finally finding him next to his car. Mr. Miller opens his passenger door and takes out a black leather messenger bag. Once I see Mr. Miller advancing towards me, I turn back to the plane and a male flight attendant offers to help me with my luggage.
He’s tall, blonde and his eyes dark blue, more of a model than a flight attendant. I hand him my suitcase and climb up after him. The interior is very slick and bright. The chairs are soft sand leather and in between each of them is a small mahogany desk.
It’s very similar to Milan’s jet.
Mr. Miller climbs aboard, sitting across of me, even though there are six other free chairs. He places his bag on the chair beside him and looks at me intently.
“Beautiful plane.” I smile.
“Thank you, Katherine.”
Mr. Miller opens his mouth to say something else, but is interrupted by the pilot, co-pilot and the flight attendant that are approaching him.
“Good morning, Mr. Miller.”
“Morning Jones, Kirk, Reed.” Mr. Miller shakes hands with the pilot and nods to the rest of them.
“Miss Slav, my executive assistant.” Mr. Miller waves at me.
“Pleasure, Miss Slav.” The captain says, reaching for my hand then kisses my knuckles.
“Lovely to meet you Mr. Jones.” I smile and nod to the others, who melt immediately.
Mr. Jones is in his early thirties, I assume. His hair and eyes are the same shade of brown, and he’s quite charming.
Something about men in uniform I tell you.
Jones and Kirk leave us and enter the cockpit. I look back at Mr. Miller, his face is relaxed but his eyes are dissatisfied.
Whoa… why?
The pilot? I frown inwardly.
“What’s the plan for today?” I ask.
“Three meetings for today.” Mr. Miller answers coolly.
He’s not happy. Uh-oh. I bite my lower lip and look out of the window, fidgeting in my seat.
Mr. Miller sighs and continues, “First meeting is at eleven, I’ll need you to come with me and take notes. The second meeting is at two, same ordeal. Last meeting is over dinner, seven p.m. No notes, but I’ll need a date… I have it all in my schedule.” Mr. Miller looks at me, confused.
Damn it. Of course he does!
I nod embarrassed.
Why the hell didn’t I check his schedule? I hate being unprepared.
“Lady and Gentlemen, we are about to take off. Our flight time will be approximately three hours and fifteen minutes. Skies are clear, so we should have a smooth flight. We do hope you enjoy your flight.” Mr. Jones’s voice comes out of the speakers above us, giving the usual polite explanation.
Simultaneously, we put on our belts and tighten them.
“Turn off your phone.” Mr. Miller commands.
I take out my cell and hit the power button. I look up and see him do the same. Once we’re airborne, the flight attendant, Reed, comes out with a tray of food. Reed places two plates in front of us, each covered with a silver dome and places utensils.
“Coffee? Tea? Orange juice?” Reed asks.
“Orange juice.” I reply.
“I’ll have one too.”
Reed nods at us and leaves. I remove the silver dome and discover a steamy omelet and turkey sausages. Yummy! I’m really hungry. Mr. Miller removes his cover, revealing the same combination lying on his plate. Reed returns with our fresh squeezed orange juice. After placing the glasses on the table, Reed takes the silver domes with him as he turns, and disappears into the compact kitchen.
“Bon appetite.” I smile.
“Merci beaucoup.” Mr. Miller answers and we dig in.
After finishing our breakfast, I decide to learn as much as possible about Mr. Miller, since my background check didn’t find much.
“How did you become a CEO at such a young age? Aren’t you like twenty five?” I ask, even though I know how old he is.
Mr. Miller smiles and shakes his head, “No, I’m twenty eight. I took over the company after my father… died in a car accident, two years ago.” Mr. Miller’s voice is pained, it’s clear that he loved his father. His striking face is a smooth mask, but I can see it in eyes, the turmoil of emotions.
“I’m so sorry for your loss…” I whisper sincerely.
“So what were you doing before…?” my voice trails off.
“Thank you. I was attending Colombia University and in parallel working under my father; he was my mentor. When the accident happened, I had to step up and fill his seriously large shoes. I left Colombia and took over. I’ve never realized how hard he worked, until the end of my first week as CEO.”
“Wow... that’s impressive. You’re really a hard worker.”
Unlike me who’ve never had to work until now…
“I wouldn’t be where I am now if I would’ve wasted my time lying on my laurels. My father taught me from an early age, a man should provide everything in his power to his family, and he made me realize that my power is limited only if I believe it is.”
Mr. Miller’s words hit home for me.
“Do you have any brothers or sisters?” I try to change the subject.
“No. I’m an only child. It’s just me and my mother now.”
Oh no… not another mama’s boy!
I’ve had enough of those.
“And you?” Mr. Miller asks, yanking me out of my sulking.
“Oh… I’m an only child as well, both parents alive.” As the words leave my mouth, my heart constricts.
Poor guy… I want to lighten the mood, but I don’t know how.
“Where is your mother now?” I’m hoping he’ll say something not so mama-boyish.
“In France.” Mr. Miller’s voice is eerily cold and he doesn’t elaborate.
“So you’re all alone here?” I sound more worried than I intend to.
“Well, not really… you’re here.” Mr. Miller smirks.
Oh! He’s kidding… I humph lightly.
“Yes well, seems very lonely to me.” I look into his eyes, trying to read his reaction.
“What can I say? It is how it is.” He offers a one-shoulder shrug.
“How is it you’re still single? You seem to be an attractive man, very successful. What seems to be the problem?” I hope I’m not being too forward, and then maybe I hope I am.
Mr. Miller’s eyebrows pick up and his eyes widen with amusement, “I seem to be?” a devilish smirk is set of his lips.
I roll my eyes, trying to seem annoyed, while suppressing a smile of my own. He looks delicious.
“So you think I’m attractive?” He keeps teasing.
“Well, I’m not blind.” I say as a matter of fact.
Mr. Miller nods, smiling but says nothing.
What? Usually, ‘and you’re pretty hot too’ follows in a heartbeat.
Maybe he’s gay?
But how could he be, if I saw Barbie-want-to-be plant a smooch on his lips?
Maybe Mr. Miller doesn’t find me attractive?
The thought sends an icy chill down my spine.
Impossible!
I attract men like flowers attract bees. Or maybe he’s the exception? Mr. Miller does seem to have this type of resistance for me. The thought hurts me more than
I expected. I turn my focus on the window, looking at the fluffy clouds and pale blue sky. I tell myself to stop brooding and set a new goal, making Mr. Miller beg for me. I will work on how to mix business with pleasure. And oh… How pleasurable it will be. Just imagining him in my sex fantasies, heats my blood with desire.
We land in Miami International right on schedule. We head out to our ride, a black Audi Q7 that awaits us. We climb in the back and a moment later, the car atmosphere changes as guitar strings that are followed by piano keys and a tantalizing beat, flow out of the sound system inside the car.
I know this song… Maroon 5?
I shift slightly and look at Mr. Miller, who’s watching me intently.
Secret! That’s the song!
Funny, the lyrics describe my situation pretty accurately. I don’t know him that well, and I do want him. Real bad. This mysterious man is confusing me each step of the way. My mind is picking on the petals of an imaginary rose.
He wants me… he wants me not…
We look at each other from time to time. The sexual tension between us intensifies with each passing second, so powerful it’s tangible. When the song ends, Mr. Miller reaches for his phone. Must’ve turned it on after we landed. I turn mine on and call Laura, letting her know I’ve arrived safely.
“It’s all there? Great… thank you Marcus.” Mr. Miller hangs up.
“I notice you don’t have a suitcase… we are here for five days and I doubt you’ll be wearing the same suit everyday.” I look at him, waiting for an answer.
“My tailor.” Mr. Miller holds up his Blackberry.
“I don’t like to travel with clothes. So I just get new ones wherever I go. Marcus never fails.” He winks at me.
“Oh…” I manage to say.
I’m baffled, not because he’s buying new clothes every time he flies somewhere, but by this reaction I’m having for him. Mr. Miller really affects me, bewildering me with his hot then cold responses.
I’ve never had this type of uncertainty. I always knew how to read men, but he’s not like any of the men I know. He’s almost untouchable. I force myself to look out the window, since I’m just sitting here and blatantly staring at him.
Though I do enjoy his captivating appearance.
