by Shayne Ford
Chad trades looks with me.
“It was great,” he says.
He follows her as she sashays to the breakfast table.
Like a gentleman, he pulls out the chair for her.
She would’ve liked a son like him. But then again, I’m not so sure he would’ve liked a mom like her.
She gives him a warm smile.
Her hands go smoothly over her fitted green dress as she gingerly takes a seat.
He pulls another chair out and takes a seat next to her. The sun shines brightly in the background, spreading a soft glow over her face.
She glances at me, her eyes examining me curiously. I push up to my feet, turn my back to them, and walk to the side table.
I start piling food on my plate.
“Mmm...What happened to your shoulders, Shade?” she asks, munching on her croissant.
I cut my eyes at her.
She dabs at the corner of her lips with a napkin, her finger pointing to my back. Chad leans back in his seat, his eyes twinkling with a smile, his bottom lip caught under his teeth.
Pursing his lips, he lifts his chin slightly, his eyes laughing, and instantly I know what she’s noticed on my back.
I ponder for a second.
“My shoulders?”
I give her another glance before I stack a couple of croissants on my plate, and grab a fruit cup.
“Yes, your shoulders.”
I motion to the chef for an omelet, then saunter to the table and slip into a chair.
Chad barely withholds his laughter.
“You’re scratched,” she says.
“And?”
“You weren’t yesterday,” she says, slightly amused, clearly fucking with me.
“And?”
Behind her back, Chad tilts his head down and bites his lip, crushing his laugh.
I look at her, poker-faced.
I know her, and what she’s doing.
Unfazed, she brings the coffee cup to her lips and takes a sip.
“Does your pussycat have claws?” she asks, knowing so well how to push my buttons.
Sure enough, anger soars through me.
She smirks and shakes her head, having a grand old time.
“Yes, pussycats do have claws,” I say calmly just as the voices of my two female guests travel to the patio.
A door opens, and the two women exit my bedroom and stroll onto the veranda. Fashioning high heels and skintight, short dresses, they wave at me.
I rise from my chair.
“If you’ll excuse me,” I say, glaring at Elia.
Her smile withers away.
I stride to the women, curl my arms around their shoulders, and walk with them toward the exit. As we near the door, I grab the brunette’s ass, turn to the blonde and kiss her goodbye.
Five minutes later, they climb into a car and drive away.
I scoop a cigarette out of my pocket, light it up and saunter back.
Elia’s eyes suddenly look dull.
She pushes out of her chair as soon as I take a seat.
“It was nice seeing you again, Chad. Send my best to your parents,” she says before vanishing inside the house.
Chad’s smile drops from his face.
“Fuck, man. What’s her fucking problem?”
“I’m her fucking problem. I’m the fucking golden pony, and she wants to run a pony show. That’s what it is. She can’t fucking stand the fact that I don’t want to do what she thinks is best for me. She’s mad that I dropped out of college, and wants to drag me into the family business, but I know better than that. Every fucking day she reminds me that I’ll have no money if I don’t follow her plan and play by her rules. I’m sick of fucking rules, especially hers. And then, to top it off she wants me to hook up with some billionaire heiress she found in my bed.”
He cocks his head to the side and smiles, amused.
“How the hell did that happen?”
I rake my hand through my hair and take another drag.
“I had no fucking clue who the fuck she was. I picked her up at a party. The only reason I brought her home was to get a blowjob in the morning. How the hell am I supposed to know?” I say in one breath before I let the smoke out.
A chuckle falls from his lips.
“Tough life, huh?”
I wave him off, grinning.
“I know she’d like me to marry some asset. She’d love to find me some bore to share my life with. The woman drives me crazy. That’s why I moved out, and from that day on I only fucked paid women. Until I met this girl again.”
“Again?”
I smile.
“Yeah... again. A few weeks back she caught my eye at one of the company events.”
I blow out smoke again, unable to suppress my smile.
“This is the woman...” he says, a grin softening his eyes.
“Yeah, the fucking pussycat. Elia calls her that name. Because of her blue eyes...”
He crosses his arms over his chest, listening attentively.
“So what happened at that event?”
“We fucked on a terrace.”
His eyebrows pop up, his face washed with surprise.
“Are you fucking serious?”
I nod, chuckling.
“Yeah, we fucking did, and she felt so fucking good...”
“I bet she did,” he says, smiling.
“Elia would mess with her life pretty badly if she finds out that I am seeing her. The thing is she already suspects that I hooked up with her, and she’d stop at nothing to destroy her. Speaking of which...”
I snatch my phone from the table and dial a number.
“Hey. I need a swipe of my apartment. Yeah... Uh-huh. And can you get the PI to check if I’m tailed? Yeah. Thanks.”
I toss the phone on the chair. His smile fades away.
“Shit man. Is it that bad?”
“Yeah, it’s that fucking bad. We need to talk about something. When are you flying back?”
“Sunday evening.”
“We’ll talk at my apartment when they’re done,” I mutter, putting the cigarette out. “Let’s swim,” I say, and we pull out of our chairs.
TARA
It was not a relaxing weekend, and it shows on my face. I rifle through my clothes for a good half an hour before I finally settle for a black and cream dress with round neckline and golden buttons. If I get fired today at least, I want to look my best.
I put the dress on and glance in the mirror. It’s elegant and sophisticated, but the color makes my face look pale. I guess there’s not much I can do right now to fix that.
Meticulously, I moisturize my skin and spread a thick layer of concealer to hide the dark circles around my eyes before I apply the creamy foundation. As I add the color, my face begins to look a little better.
I haven’t slept much since Friday. Shade called me once, on Sunday morning, but someone else was in the room, and he couldn’t talk. His friend was supposed to leave last night, yet I haven’t heard from him again.
I glance back in the mirror, pondering whether I should put something more colorful around my neck. I change my mind and toss the scarf to the side before I opt for a cream jacket with matching golden buttons.
I let my hair down.
Yeah, that’s better.
Eight o’clock sharp, I enter the firm and walk down the hallway.
I’m not late, but for a Monday morning, it’s tardier than I usually come in.
Heads flick in my direction, whispers drifting through the air in my wake.
What’s going on?
The door of my office is wide open.
Standing in the doorway, Danielle greets me with a big smile plastered all over her face. A discreet blush tinges her cheeks, her eyes brimming with girlish excitement.
“Good morning,” she says, stepping to the side.
I walk in and freeze.
A colorful display of roses, all colors, and sizes, beautifully arranged in bouquets, fills
my office with their fresh scent.
My lips curl into a slow smile.
“What is this?”
“They were delivered an hour ago,” she says.
Out of the corner of my eye, I register Claire peeking over my shoulder.
I turn to her.
Maybe it’s my tired eyes or the contrast with the colors in my office, but I’ve never seen Claire so pale. Her beige suit doesn’t do much for her, either.
She cuts her eyes at me.
Before she has the chance to open her mouth, I speak.
“The report is not ready. There’s no way I could’ve done it, and you know it,” I say, and pause, waiting for her to summon me to her office and sack me.
“That’s fine,” she says to my surprise. “Danielle will take care of it,” she adds. “There’s been a change of schedule,” she mutters, wincing and bracing her stomach as if she’s about to throw up.
“Yes?”
“You’re flying to Switzerland tomorrow and work in Lausanne, our European headquarters, for the rest of the week,” she says sourly. “Danielle will go with you over your schedule.”
Without another word, she darts away. Danielle follows her shortly.
Sighing with relief, I spin around and take in my workspace.
Bright sunlight tumbles in the middle of the room, making the colors look even more vibrant. I search for a card, a message of sorts.
Tucked in a bouquet of red and white roses, a black and gold card waits for me, a hand written message inside.
‘I’ll see you Friday in Lausanne. Have a safe trip.’
My knees give in.
Smiling, I slide into the chair.
SHADE
“Are you out of your mind, Shade?”
I pull my shirt on, and start buttoning up.
Smirking, I glance in the mirror, savoring the expression of outrage on Elia’s face.
She’s lucky I’m in a good mood today, so I’ll just kick back and enjoy the show.
“Why is that, mom?”
“Are you really taking her with you now?”
“Who are we talking about?”
She starts pacing behind my back, her hand clasped on her hip.
A staff member walks by, carrying my garment bags.
“How long do you intend to stay anyway? What are you doing with so many clothes?” she asks, eyeing my garment bags.
My fingers comb through my hair back as I check my freshly shaven face.
“I have meetings until Friday, and I want to be prepared. Would that satisfy your curiosity?” I ask, smiling.
“You didn’t answer me,” she snaps.
“You didn’t either,” I toss back at her. “As always, I have no fucking idea who you are talking about,” I say, fastening my cufflinks.
She puts the other hand on her hip and glares at me in the mirror. I study my reflection, then pivot and check my back.
She looks at me as if she has a ticking device under her tongue, ready to go off at any moment.
“Tara Hart,” she says aggravated.
“Mmm... Still fixated on her?”
She no longer calls her ‘The Pussycat.’
“What about her?” I ask, grabbing my jacket.
“Claire told me that she was traveling with you to Lausanne...”
“Oh, Claire... Our old friend. Envy much?”
I smirk, and her eyes blaze at me.
“Still not getting enough cock at home and she minds someone else’s business,” I say.
“Shade!” she barks.
“Yes, darling,” I say smoothing the lapels of my jacket. I glance at the open door. “I would keep my voice down if I were you. You don’t want your staff to know your business,” I say before I wink at her.
“Answer me,” she shouts, really getting on my nerves.
I spin around and look at her.
“What’s your fucking problem Elia?” I ask calmly.
“Why are you taking that woman with you?” she asks, her voice lined with frustration.
I swagger to the doors and close them before I stride back, and lean against a chair. Shoving my hands into my pockets, I pin her with my gaze.
“What’s that woman to you Elia? She’s nothing more than someone who works for our company.”
“You could’ve fucked her here, Shade. Why do you need her on a business trip?”
I grit my teeth and clench my jaw, struggling to rein in my anger.
“She’s good at what she does. And you’d know that if once in a while you’d get your head out of your ass and pay attention to our family business. She comes with me because I want her to train the European sales force. I don’t know why you’re so stirred up. She’s not flying with me. We’re not even working in the same office. Why the fuck are you so bothered, Elia?”
She erases the space between us, her eyes filled with venom, and for a moment she looks like a complete stranger to me.
In many respects, she is.
“You don’t take a young skirt on such a trip, Shade. People will talk. Those who have seniority will resent you. It doesn’t look good. You stir up all sorts of emotions in these people who’ve worked so hard to prove their loyalty to our company.”
I narrow my eyes and stare at her coldly.
“She’s good, Elia. Her numbers are outstanding. She must do something right. Loyalty is great, but it doesn’t produce sales, and without sales, there’s no money rolling in. Do I really need to explain this to you?”
“She’s maybe all that, but she’s young, and she also looks a certain way. It doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together. Really...”
A smile stretches across my lips.
“Oh, I see. So this is the real problem. She’s a beautiful woman. So if she were someone ugly, perhaps someone like Claire, people wouldn’t have had a problem with her, and by people I mean... you.”
Huffing, she throws her hands up in the air.
“You don’t get it, do you?” she says, smacking her hips with her palms.
“Easy... You’re gonna break a nail,” I say, smiling. “Oh yes, I do get it. I get that you’re in my business again. And you know how much I dislike it. And you know what? I’ve been doing what you’ve asked of me. And now, I’m going to put my ass on a plane and fly to fucking Switzerland. I’ll be in business meetings all week long, and yet, what do you do? You come to me with this stupid shit. I don’t care what you want, Elia. Do you understand? I don’t give a fuck. If I fuck her, it’s not your damn business,” I say, my voice turning dark.
Her eyes start throwing daggers.
I tilt my chin up, motioning her to the door.
“Isn’t there a charity you should run or a pool boy you need to fuck?”
Her eyes go crazy for a moment, her hand shooting through the air, landing straight on my face.
“You, fucking jerk,” she snarls.
My cheek goes numb.
Swiftly, I cuff her wrists with one hand and grab her trembling chin with the other.
“Now, you listen to me. You’re running out of strikes with me,” I hiss through my clenched teeth. “I wouldn’t push it if I were you. Unless you’re willing to risk everything for some stupid power play, keep yourself under control… Mom.”
Her eyes start darting back and forth as she searches for clues on my face.
“You wouldn’t do that. You’re not that crazy. It’s your ass at stake as well,” she says, her voice shaking, her confidence crushed, gone.
“Why don’t you try me, then?” I ask, smiling.
I let go of her chin and step away from her.
She freezes in the middle of the room.
Slowly, I slip a cigarette between my lips.
“Tara Hart is off limits,” I say firmly. “I hope you understand that for your own good.”
She looks at me with fresh eyes as if she’s seeing me for the first time.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me... There’s a plane waiting for me,” I s
ay before unhurriedly, I walk away.
A vase swishes by me, pulverizing against the wall. Without turning, I raise my middle finger unfazed and step out of the room.
Fresh air fills my lungs, reviving my hope for better days.
The evening is warm and windy, improving my mood.
The driver holds the door open for me as I slide onto the back seat.
A moment later, the limo glides away.
As it rolls onto the road, I take in the tossing lights of Seattle, a good feeling pouring into my heart.
10
TARA
I glance in the mirror one more time, my blood pooling in my cheeks, my quickening pulse vibrating in my neck.
Lips pressed together, I ponder for a moment.
I’m not so sure about this gown. A column dress with a bateau neckline that looks a bit stiff, to say the least.
Three evening dresses lie on the bed. I roll my gaze over them, still undecided.
It’s a corporate party, and normally, it wouldn’t take me long to pick my attire, but he’ll be there, and that’s enough to make me nervous as hell.
I glance at the clock.
Time to make up your mind, Tara.
I dwell a few more minutes before I peel the dress off and slip into a black gown with crisscrossed straps and a halter style neckline that plunges down to a wide waistband.
A huge bow sits on my neck, my hair covering most of my bare back.
It’s way more risqué than I would’ve liked and totally inappropriate for a corporate event.
I guess that’s that.
The bottom sweeps the floor before I slip into a pair of high heels and the length adjusts, the gown fitting me perfectly.
I twirl a few more times, and then I stop and take a long breath.
I’m a ball of jitters. My hands are trembling, my stomach battling a bad case of butterflies.
It’s been a week since we saw him last time.
We spoke briefly on the phone on Monday as he was embarking on his flight. I flew to Lausanne on Tuesday, and I’ve been busy conducting training sessions for the past three days.
Flowers have been delivered to my hotel room twice a day with the precision of a Swiss clock, but other than that I haven’t heard from him.
Tomorrow, I’m scheduled to fly back home.
The phone rings.
