He picked her up and laid her down on the soft bed. She felt like as if she were floating on a cloud. She wanted him, now and fast. She grabbed him and pulled him on top of her, wrapping her legs around him.
He kissed her, and she rubbed his cock. No more preamble. His hands were everywhere, on her breasts, between her legs. She was already wet.
“No petting, no licking? You want me right away?” he whispered in her ear.
“I’ve waited too long.”
Her hips arched toward him, searching for their prize. She was desperate to take him in her. She grabbed his cock and aimed it where she wanted it most.
He pushed her hand aside and plunged into her so forcefully she thought she’d break through the bed. His cock pushed deeper and quickly hit her sweet spot. The rhythm of their movement mesmerized her as she sank deeper into the soft folds of the mattress. How she longed for the moment to last. A tiny orgasm crested, and then another followed.
He ceaselessly plunged in her, depriving her of nothing and giving her everything she wanted. It blew her mind. She wanted to ride the wave of the heat longer, but the frenzy ruthlessly reached a culmination, and she cried out as she tumbled into a final, powerful orgasm. He followed suit with a loud, animalistic cry. She suspected he’d been waiting for this release for a long time. He collapsed on top of her for just a moment and then rolled on his back, pulling her with him.
“That was some long-needed lovemaking, darling.”
“Mmm, yes, it was. I hope you’ve got enough left for me later.” Jane snuggled into the crook of his arm.
“Oh, you so don’t have to worry about that.” He tightened his hold and kissed the top of her head.
****
They strolled toward the Eiffel Tower, entered inside the building, and climbed the internal staircase to the second floor, where they would dine at the Le Jules Verne. The maître d’ guided them to a private booth clad with pink velvet cushions and surrounded by intricate French mirrors. The table was set with insignia china and a pink satin tablecloth and matching napkins.
Her favorite color! Had Bill arranged this?
Cocooned in their alcove, they were the only two in the world who mattered. Bill ordered martinis and clams casino. They fed each other the clams, careful not to spill the contents of chopped pepper and bacon, and drank their martinis. Bill kissed her neck, sending chills up her spine. Then he kissed her deeply, though a little too passionately for a public place; she noted a few gaping stares from the other patrons.
Damn. She didn’t want him to stop. At the same time, she didn’t want people to think they were classless American tourists. “Come on, Bill.” He didn’t stop at first, and she found it hard to resist another one of his passionate kisses. “Calm down, tiger. You won’t have any left for later.”
“I can’t get enough of you.” He composed himself and withdrew from her. “Okay, I’ll be good. Let’s order dinner.”
They perused the menu and decided on a cream of mushroom soup and a chateaubriand to share, with wild rice and steamed broccoli on the side. The delicious combination of savory spices and garlicky splendor enticed Jane’s appetite. They cut the meat and fed each other bites, slowly, sensually. They drank an entire bottle of Bordeaux with the meal. They ate in silence but touched as often as possible.
“Bill, I’m full. The food was delicious. I savored every bite. I can’t believe it, but I don’t feel woozy after all the drinks. Just a little buzzed.”
“I’m glad. I don’t want you to miss out on the night. I know you’re a lightweight and can’t take too much alcohol. And the night is young.”
The waiter cleared their plates and returned with dessert. It was her favorite, chocolate mousse. “I don’t think I have room for another bite, but I’ll try.”
“Eat up, then we’ll stroll the tower grounds.”
They walked around the grounds of the Eiffel Tower and the bridges and waterways.
Bill seemed to be stalling.
“Are we going anywhere else? My feet are killing me.”
He pulled her to a bench with a direct view of the tower. “You don’t need those shoes. Take them off.”
Her feet throbbed from the new five-hundred dollar stilettos, so she slipped them off. Bill kept glancing at his watch. She’d swear it was the third time in the last fifteen minutes. What was up with him?
His hand shook slightly as he fished in his pocket and produced an all-too-familiar- looking box. A sight she dreamed of beholding for all the years she could remember.
It was a robin’s-egg blue box with a white satin bow around it.
“No, Bill, I don’t believe it. It can’t be.”
When he fumbled with the bow, the box tumbled to the ground. He scooped it up and untied the ribbon on bended knee. Bill opened the box and presented it to her.
There sat the most beautiful perfectly round and glistening Tiffany diamond ring. It had to be two carats. He must’ve spent a fortune. The color was magnificent, picking up so much light.
Oh my.
“I’ve waited for what seemed to be an eternity. I knew you were the one from the first time I saw you cheerleading on the football field. You broke my heart, but I never gave up hope. We were destined to be together…” He hesitated, as though he’d forgotten his words. “With this ring, I’d like to ask you to take my hand in marriage. I want to share every precious moment with you that I can, since I’ve lost so many. Please, Janey, will you be my wife?”
Finally, he’d asked her. Her life flashed before her: the years of study, her potential job as a high-powered DA, and the future working mom of two little ones, a boy and girl pulling at her skirt. Bill fit into the picture perfectly. There could be no one else. They’d appear to the world as the perfect couple, and really, they were the perfect couple. As their high school yearbook said, they were the couple most likely to be married forever.
“Yes. Yes, Bill Andrew Cicieri, I will marry you. Now get up off your knee and get over here.”
He slipped the ring onto her finger for a perfect fit. She pulled him up onto the bench next to her, and they kissed. Their lips and tongues molded together as though they belonged that way. The rhythm of the kiss turned her on. The familiar wetness returned to that special place at her center. But he suddenly stopped, glanced at his watch again, and pointed to the Eiffel Tower. “Look, honey. Now.”
As if on cue, the Eiffel Tower was aglow with a shimmering display of lights.
“Beautiful. You couldn’t have done it any better.” Her perfect Bill. He had this all planned to the final detail.
“I wanted you to say yes and have the ring on before the light show.” He squeezed her hand. “I’ve been planning this ever since I got the gumption to ask you.”
They sat a moment, taking in the amazing display of lights running up and down the length of the Eiffel Tower.
“Before we do the marriage planning, we need to figure out where I’m going to work, Bill.”
“That will be entirely up to you, my dear.” He turned toward her and pulled her into an embrace. “I am so happy. We’re engaged!”
“I can’t believe it, Bill, we really are!”
The next couple of days passed in a flash as they visited the Louvre, where they viewed the Mona Lisa and works of Claude Monet, and went on a garden tour in Versailles. A river cruise on the Seine revealed breathtaking views of Notre-Dame. And, of course, they dined at outdoor cafes along the Seine, complete with handwritten menus. Although Jane had hoped to escape reality just a little longer, she had to say goodbye to this romantic city.
The only dilemma gnawing at her was the assistant DA job she wanted in Philly. She doubted Bill would leave Manhattan. But they’d have time to discuss it later, much later, after the glow of this romantic vacation wore off.
Maybe she could persuade Bill to move his lucrative career to Philadelphia.
Chapter Nine
For the next couple of weeks, Carmala worked round the clock on the Smit
hinson Gas project. As far as she was concerned, the deal was dead. But how would she explain that to Tom? At six o’clock she tapped on his office door. He was still hard at work, furiously tapping at the keys on his laptop, and didn’t immediately look up.
“Got a minute, Tom?”
He lifted his bleary eyes toward her. “I do. What’s up?”
“It’s Smithinson.” Carmala took a seat opposite Tom at his desk. “They are relying on obtaining financing for their expanded business plan. Raising money in this economy and at this juncture is a losing proposition for any oil company. I propose we drop the client and cut our losses.”
Uh-oh. His jaw dropped, disappointment stretched across his face. Regret for uttering her words slammed into her, but it was too late now.
“Carmala, we hired you because of your tenacity. Difficult-to-finance clients are part of our business. We don’t drop them once they’re under contract.” He paused for a moment and seemed to be search for the right words. “I should have seen this coming. You’re still making the transition from auditor to salesperson. Your mindset hasn’t totally shifted yet. I may have made a mistake throwing you to the wolves like this. Give it time. Sales will become second nature, if you can turn off the internal auditor brain.” He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples.
Shit. Now he thought she was incapable of doing the job he hired her for. She needed to prove she was fully capable.
“I guess I am still wearing an auditor’s cap. Don’t worry. I’ll get this. I promise.”
Tom got up and paced the floor behind his desk. “You see, Carmala, the retention fee we collect from our clients compensates us for our overhead. Since we’ve already collected the fee, we need to earn it out and give the best client service we can.”
“Maybe I need to view it from a different angle,” she said. “I’ll meet with the Smithinson board of directors again and reevaluate their retail distribution strategy.” Even though she had already done this, what she needed was a creative breakthrough. Something that would get her to look at the situation differently, maybe not so analytically. She had to prove herself.
“I have total faith in you, Carmala. If you want to meet with the board again, I’m all for it. Maybe you should take a break tonight, get some early Christmas shopping done. You’ve been working late nights and need to recharge. I need you fresh.” He raised his eyebrows and pointed to her. “But make no mistake, we don’t want to lose this account. Its success is crucial to our quarterly results. If you need help, I can assign a couple of more senior people to assist you.”
No way! She had this. And she didn’t need anyone’s help.
“Don’t worry, Tom. I’ll come up with something. I’ll brainstorm with Smithinson’s board. They want this as much as we do. I’ll bring the deal home.”
“Sounds like a good plan. In the meantime, go home and rest.”
She went into her office. While Tom gave her a kick in the pants, he also gave her a vote of confidence, and she got a surge of creativity. She made an immediate call to George Beckett, the CEO of Smithinson, who was still at the office. They agreed to a time to meet with the board the next day. He said he was anxious to hear what Carmala had to say.
She continued to work until ten that night. She would rest later. It was more important that she strategize. She examined Smithinson’s operations report, and something caught her attention. They’d experimentally introduced mini-fast food restaurants called “Health-on-the-Run” in some of their twenty-four-hour convenience stores at their gas stations. The marts gave their customers access to fresh made veggie and vegan sandwiches, platters, and salads, and “Health-to-Go” protein shakes.
The health food market was wide open. And it was an interesting niche, especially for a gas station chain catering to travelers on the go. Smithinson would do well to expand their Health-to-Go concept.
****
Dressed in her double-breasted dark gray pin-striped suit jacket and matching skirt, red blouse, and high heels, Carmala clutched her leather Coach briefcase and made her way out into the world. She cabbed it directly to Smithinson. On the way, she reiterated her morning affirmations, which she did, well, almost daily, while doing yoga. As she mentally recited them, rote-like, she didn’t think of the words, thus they did little to reduce her nerves.
Good thing she’d arrived fifteen minutes early. Her mouth went dry, and she accepted a glass of water from the receptionist.
Once she’d had been introduced to the twelve board members, she got right to the point. She sat at the head of the table and handed out her agenda. “Ladies and gentlemen, upon studying your business plan, we recommend promoting Smithinson as a green company. We feel this would help deflect any bad notions in the public’s mind about oil companies. In fact, expansion of the Health-on-the-Run convenience stores shows that Smithinson cares about the health of its patrons who need a fast, healthy snack or meal. Why not address that need with a twenty-four-seven healthy food bar? And, for that matter, why not add them to all of the retail locations? To further enhance your image, Smithinson could introduce environmentally friendly practices, such as using recycled cups, plates, and napkins.”
She could practically taste the air of approval in the air as told by the “hmms,” nodding heads, and appreciative expressions. She loved being on a roll. The interest in her ideas spurred her on a thrill ride. Some of the board members appeared skeptical. But she figured the majority would rule.
George spoke first. “Carmala, in theory, this sounds like an excellent idea to introduce to potential investors. Your proposal presents additional costs that were never factored into the original request for funds.”
Oh. No worries. She’d use her accounting knowledge to convince them.
Brad from Marketing spoke up next. “I think Carmala has the right idea. We can essentially bypass negative perceptions the public has about gas stations. Let’s face it. We need gas, the consumers need gas, and alternative fuels aren’t the answer yet. So maybe it will make them feel better if they’re eating their vegan sandwiches on recycled plates. I like it.”
“Regardless, Brad, we need to run this by our research and development team as well as our accounting department and get revised projections for funding.” George smiled at Carmala. “I think we all agree that the plan has a lot of merit. All in favor of the plan, subject to the appropriate departmental approval, say aye.”
Ten hands quickly went up. The secretary recorded the vote.
George directed his next comment to Carmala. “Then I say we will get back to you in a couple of days.”
Carmala’s smile stretched ear to ear. She couldn’t help it or keep the joyful note out of her voice. “That’s all we can ask for, sir. Thank you.”
She had her win, subject to the company’s accounting review. Now all she had to was wait.
****
Tick tock, tick tock. Three nail-biting days had passed since the presentation, and Carmala hadn’t heard back from George at Smithinson. Thanksgiving was only a week away. She needed to know the verdict so she could wrap everything up before the holiday.
She decided to make the call. As his secretary located George, her heart pounded hard, nerves pinched her skin.
He finally answered the phone. “Carmala, what’s up?”
“Hello. I wondered how the research was going. I wanted to start lining up your investor money before the holiday. So I thought I’d check in with you.”
“Carmala, I didn’t want to spoil your Thanksgiving.” There was a hesitation on the line. “Our research and finance departments reviewed the proposal. Unfortunately, they decided your ideas would not support the profit goals promised to our current investors. Also, they don’t flow with our organizational direction. Now, if it were up to me or marketing, we’d be all for it.”
Ah, God. That sucked. Big time. And here she thought she had them.
“George, don’t give up on me. I need to come up with a different approach, and I will. I pr
omise you that.”
“I hope you do. I’m willing to give you another shot. However, these guys are all leaving for vacation, so there’s not a lot of time.”
Time. There was never enough of it. There’d be no way she could line up board approval before they left for vacation. Or could she?
****
Later, at her apartment, Guido and Carmala sat down to another one of Guido’s scrumptious meals. Tonight he’d made spaghetti and meatballs complemented by her personal favorite, cabernet sauvignon. She really needed the wine.
She ate a forkful of the spaghetti, enjoying the Sicilian flavors of his gravy. That’s what her family called their tomato sauce, and so did Guido’s family. Another familial connection between them. The green peppers gave it the extra punch not normally used in restaurants. “Guid, the sauce is delish.”
“I’m glad you like it, babe.” He held up his glass of wine to her. “How’d it go today?”
“My campaign for the Smithinson Gas account bombed. Usually clients are willing to try new ideas, but this time it was a no go. They said their accounting and research departments couldn’t buy into the concept of mingling health food with their gas convenience stores, claiming it conflicted with their corporate vision. It’s unclear to me what they intend to do in the face of their bad PR from the oil spill.” She twirled some spaghetti and forked it into her mouth. The stress made her hungrier than usual.
He nodded, took her hand, and kissed it. “Come on, babe. It’s just a deal. You’ve got dough. You don’t need the extra commissions right now. You’ve got the new digs paid for the next six months. Your boss shouldn’t have given you such a difficult client so soon.”
Guido didn’t understand how important it was for her to prove herself to Synergy Plus and that this was her chance. Yet he was being sweet to her, and she appreciated that. “Guid, you’re right, I need to chill. Nothing I can do about it tonight.” She got up to clear the table, and Guido joined her.
“You’ve worked too hard on this already. Have some more cab.” He poured her a third glass, and she took a large gulp while they washed the dishes.
Having Fun with Mr. Wrong Page 9
