by Angela Price
“You’re probably the most egotistical man I’ve ever met, Lucas. If you want something to do with Anna’s business, go for it. But leave me alone. We have nothing in common, and I don’t want your lifestyle, or your personal life, to blow back on me. I mean it.” I shrug out of his hold and walk away.
He stands on the sidewalk, behind me, until I turn the corner to cut over to 5th Avenue. He crosses his arms over his chest. He looks mad, and resigned, and maybe something else. I’m not sure about the something else.
I only know because I looked back.
Once.
But that was all.
I work the rest of the day, pick up pan of lasagna and a big jug of red wine on the way back to my apartment, and hang out with Jenny for the night. I help her unpack and wash her clothes, even ironing a few of her favorite pieces. She needs an alteration on one thing, and I turn on my sewing machine and whip it out. She’s tired.
I feel confused, fatigued and sad, so we’re good company.
I wonder if I had stayed, would I have had a romantic lunch with Lucas? Would he have kissed me again? Would he have held me close? Held my hand?
Is hand-holding what I’m after? Really?
Sometimes I wonder about myself. I have a hot guy who obviously just wants to have sex with me – no strings attached – and he’s beautiful and distant enough to be worth considering. And I go and blow it by getting mad because he’s controlling. And egotistical. And a smart-ass.
And…
Yeah. Good going, Sadie. Bullet dodged, babe. Bullet dodged.
Chapter Nine
“Already In”
Jon McLaughlin, Indiana
I wake up early on Saturday and resolve that today is going to be Jenny’s day. I pull on yoga pants, a fleece jacket, fleece gloves and a scarf and head down to the corner bodega to see Mr. Alvarez. He’s almost adopted Jenny and me since we moved here three years ago. Within months, he started to carry our favorite brands, so we could avoid other stores. When we began to bring him baked goods and plates of savory food, he became even more accommodating. This morning, he sells me a package of nitrate-free bacon, some sour cream, four quarters of salted butter, a carton of eggs, and some whole-grain bread. I grab a copy of the New York Times and head back to the apartment, after a big hug from Mr. A. He’s like another father. I’m so happy he’s nearby.
I halt on the sidewalk when I realize there’s a limo outside the building. It looks familiar.
Ooh. It is familiar. My heart does a somersault inside my chest.
Its eight fifteen, and Lucas opens the rear door and gets out, looking bemused. He’s wearing workout pants, running shoes, a t-shirt and a zip-front jacket. He looks good. Really good. I realize my hair is wildly curly and I don’t have on one scrap of make-up. There’s no artifice to fall back on. I slow up, and approach him with caution, my hands full of grocery bags.
“Good morning Miss Graves”, he says formally, with a small smile on his face. “I was hoping you could have breakfast today, since our last few conversations were cut short – or didn’t happen. I was just about to call you.”
“Um, no, Mr. Sutton. I can’t have breakfast out today, because I’m making something for my roommate, Miss Whitson. You’re welcome to join us, but only after I’ve let her know that you’ll be present, if you don’t mind? She’s been travelling, and I don’t want to railroad her into company if she’d rather just unwind.”
He smiles, and nods his head. “Do you need help with your bags?”
I decline, and ask him how he’d like for me to let him know what her decision is. “Text me”, he says. I agree, and head inside with my groceries. I’m not sure what to think about this development.
Jenny squeals with excitement and insists that I invite Lucas Sutton inside. The apartment is (as usual) sparkling clean, and we have enough food for a hearty breakfast for everybody, even the neighbors. She lights the fireplace and squints at me, alarmed. “CALL HIM, now!! What is wrong with you, Sadie! You are completely daft!”
I text him to ring the buzzer, and he does within a minute or so. He knocks, and I move to let him in. Jenny is in the kitchen, breaking eggs, and she stills when she sees him come through the front door. Lucas Sutton can’t escape from his own face. She says nothing, but I see a slight frown cross her forehead. She’s immediately worried for my future. Can I possibly survive a man this pretty? I feel certain that he’s only interested in me for my designs, but Jenny reads romance into every situation.
She comes out of the galley kitchen to meet Lucas, and he asks her all about her job with Michael Kors. He sprawls on our sofa, looking like a model himself, in rapt attention to Jenny’s explanations and funny stories. Within minutes, he admits his company had an opportunity to rep her boss years ago, and they failed to recognize his appeal. “Ha! What a blast that you should admit that, Mr. Sutton”, she laughs. “He’s still mad as hell about it; did you know? We make a lot of corporate decisions based on whether or not Sutton Shield would move on an idea or not. If he thinks you’re too weak on something, he goes for it!” Her eyes light up. “I’m glad I’m finally meeting the nemesis of Mr. Kors. But I do hope your intentions with my roommate are honorable? She’s a true talent, Mr. Sutton. Not just a flunky to another designer.” Jenny smiles, warmly. He returns the smile. “No, Jenny, I freely admit the situation with Michael could have gone better. My father was determined to come out on top on that one, and he made a major mistake. We lost tremendously as a company, because of a silly pissing match over royalties. Mr. Kors deserved more, he knew it, and my father denied him. It was, at best, a learning experience for my dad.”
Jenny’s face softens. “I’m sorry it happened. Artists are so emotional over their work. I can see how misunderstandings might make repping different clients a challenge.”
“It’s true. I think people discount the importance of talent and artistry, Jenny. The day I met Sadie; the model I was escorting insulted her. She had no idea that the person pinning her gown also designed a line of exquisite lingerie. Our company is fighting that sort of ignorance, by recruiting amazing talent.”
He keeps silent on his intentions toward me, a fact not lost on either of us.
I watch Lucas and Jenny now; they appear to be equals, despite his advanced age. In their workout clothes, they discuss other designers, recent events and the outcome of Fashion Week for different ateliers. I cook breakfast, and listen quietly while they talk. When everything is ready, I bring it to the table, home-style.
I’ve heated plates in the oven. Lucas and Jenny spoon warm eggs, cheese grits, crispy bacon and browned toast onto their dishes. There’s soft butter, honey and jelly to accompany the meal. I pour coffee, juice and tea into carafes, and leave them on the table. While they talk, I make my own plate, and eat in silence. I like their conversation, and not being part of it gives me a sense of calm I don’t normally feel with Lucas. I realize a few things about him, now. He’s smart. Really smart. Not just about appearances or concepts, but about people and their passions. He carries on a great conversation and has deft, realistic opinions. He’s humble. I never would have thought that. And, his face is probably his enemy. I see that now, because his opinions might not carry as much weight because of his beauty. Like a woman! I laugh inwardly at the thought.
They both pause in conversation and look at me. “Sadie!” Jenny says, “I feel terrible. Here we are, prattling away, and you’ve made this fabulous meal.”
“I loved doing it, Jenny. I really missed you this week. Even Mr. Alvarez missed you!” I laugh. She does too. “Mr. Alvarez owns the bodega on the corner, Mr. Sutton. He loves Sadie and me.” Lucas replies, wiping some honey from the side of his mouth, “Who can blame him?” We all chuckle, and I rise to put away breakfast. Lucas laughs at my retreating back, “And Sadie can really cook. This day has been a revelation already!”
When all the dishes are in the dishwasher and Jenny is ready to take a shower, Lucas asks if I will speak with him priva
tely. There’s really no place besides my room for that, but I offer tentatively. I know that he will not approach me sexually again – those moments in the limo were simply a mistake. He nods his head. And so he says goodbye to Jenny and follows me into my room, to talk about something obviously important to him.
Chapter Ten
You Do Something to Me”
Paul Weller, Stanley Road
My bedroom is painted the color of the western Caribbean. It’s turquoise on one day, and teal the next. The paint has a magical quality. It’s a medium-sized room, with a large walk-in closet - one of the reasons we chose this apartment. Both bedrooms have tremendous storage. My bed has a huge brightly-colored bird painting I did as a project in design school over it. It’s mounded with pillows. The headboard is a door from an African cupboard, featuring carvings of women carrying water and working in the fields. I fell in love with it, because it reminded me how far women have come. There’s soft lighting scattered around and a reading lamp over my side of the bed – the left side.
There aren’t any chairs, and so we sit on the mattress.
Lucas clears his throat. “Um, listen, Sadie. I behaved badly yesterday. In fact, I’ve behaved badly since the minute I met you. I’d like to start out with asking for your forgiveness?”
I sit quietly. I have a flashback for just one second of his tongue stroking mine and his hands on me, and my belly flips over lazily. Oy. I have to forget that. I’d better start now.
“It’s okay, Lucas. I’m sorry, too. I know you’re not interested in me like that. I forgive you. Now, what do you want to talk to me about?”
He gets a funny look on his face, but then shifts in a millisecond to looking controlled. And so he begins. “It’s about your line. I know you gave your designs to Anna, and at this point she owns them. I’m going to offer to rep them next week. But I’m only offering if she gives you creative listing, and control of future artistic choices. If she won’t, I’m going to offer you a different position, like we talked about on Thursday night, with my company. I just want you to understand one thing. I believe in your talent, and I trust that you have what it takes to be a household name. That’s what I wanted to discuss with you. Do you understand?”
I’m not sure I do. I thought we already talked about this.
“Are you saying you’re going to promote the lingerie line, but only if Anna recognizes me as the designer? Lucas! She’ll be livid. Her reputation is her most important asset. I don’t want to belittle her like that. She’s given me a chance, given me everything. You can’t seriously think I would betray her?”
His eyes narrow. “Sadie, listen to me. My job is recognizing and selling talent. And you are a rare find. Let me handle the details, and trust me. I need you to trust me. Say you do?”
I pause. Trust isn’t my favorite currency.
“Lucas, I’ve known you for five minutes. I’ve known Anna for years. I can’t be sure I can do what you’re asking of me. You’re suggesting she defer to me, and that won’t do. I mean it.” I’m scowling without realizing it.
He sits quietly for a few moments.
“I’ll work out the details, Sadie. With you present, preferably, but I can do it without you there too. She’ll get a sweetheart deal, and you’ll get your chance. But in the meantime, I need something else.” I look at him, all pale face and bed head. It’s hard to have leverage with a man when you can’t even hide behind lip gloss. I feel unprotected.
He inches closer to me. “I need you to kiss me again. Need it. Seriously.” His face is grave. He is now so close I can smell his hair, his skin. My heart picks up, tripping a beat. My stomach rolls, and my mouth goes dry.
“I know you think the other night was a fluke, but I feel differently.” He leans over, and puts his soft lips against mine. Oh Jesus. When he pushes back slightly, I breathe in and my mouth opens; he takes the advantage to French kiss me. We’re right back where we were before, except this time we’re in the confines of my own room.
I feel safe.
He leans into me and lays me back onto the bed, hands softly brushing my arms and back. He’s licking my tongue with his, sighing audibly. Desire blooms between my legs, and I moan and kiss him back.
He takes his time. He has my jacket unzipped in minutes, and pulls my camisole down to expose my breasts. He pauses, stopping all motion, and looks into my eyes. “Jesus, fuck. You’re so beautiful, Sadie. From the minute you came out of your office; I can’t get you out of my mind. Your breasts – Christ. They’re perfect. I want to kiss them; want to please you. Let me touch you? I don’t want you to run away again.”
I nod, unable to speak. I know he’ll probably have me once and move on. I’ve waited long enough. All this time, I’ve never let anyone get close to me. I decide to just let go. It won’t last, and I mentally prepare myself for the worst. But the good news is…the worst won’t happen today. I exhale, and pull my jacket and camisole off over my head.
He stills, and then smiles at me. Crap. He’s the most beautiful man on the planet. Lucas lowers his face to my left breast, pulling my nipple into his mouth. He traps it between his lower and upper lip, and tugs it with teeth and tongue. My back lifts off the bed in response. His eyebrows go up, acknowledging something that’s pleased me. He moves to my right breast, then returns to kiss me deeply. “Hmmm. Sadie. I want you. Are you going to make me wait?”
I sigh. “No, Lucas. Just be gentle, okay?” I look down when I ask, so afraid he’ll ask me questions or stop. Am I really going through with this?
“Oh, baby. I promise. I can tell you’re shy. I can’t tell you how much that turns me on. Are you on birth control?” I nod. I’m on the pill that lets you have four periods a year. Oh, the miracles of modern science.
He sits me up, removes my shoes and socks, and then my yoga pants and underwear. I’m naked. I haven’t had a shower. My hair is everywhere. Then he takes his own clothes off, except for his underwear. I pause to look at him. He’s smooth all over – there’s not any hair on his chest. His muscles ripple. There’s a path of dark hair from his navel trailing into his briefs. He has a cut line between his abdomen and his groin…he’s literally mouthwatering. He lays me back on the bed, gently, and moves his face between my legs. He rubs his nose between them and breathes in deeply. “Sadie, you smell delicious. I can’t wait to taste you.”
He drags himself back up my body, and my breath catches in my throat in anticipation of his touch. He touches my face, my neck, and kisses me. He plants a trail of kisses to my breasts, and then sticks out his tongue to rub it over one nipple. I watch his eyes literally roll back in his head as it disappears deep into his mouth. His erection is raging against my leg, peeking over the top of his underwear. I thought he was well-endowed, but I wasn’t expecting this. I’m nervous for just a minute, but then I breathe deeply and look back at his face.
Meeting my eyes, he kisses his way down my belly, licking my navel and rubbing his chin over my pubic mound. He stops to look carefully at my sex. His expression gets soft. My inner lips are like butterfly wings, exposed outside of the outer ones. They’re wet with desire. He pushes my legs apart and strokes them with his tongue, now making serious sounds of pleasure. He moves his cock rhythmically against my bed covers, almost involuntarily. He tongues my clit, slides one long finger against my opening and slips it inside. Within seconds, I have a powerful, shuddering orgasm. I don’t make much noise, but my body is wracked with tremors.
Lucas looks at my face, wonder and lust on his. He moves up to kiss me, and I taste the tang of myself on his tongue. He shucks his underwear, positions himself between my legs and rises up on his hands, preparing to enter me. His skin is like velvet, but he’s one lean mass of muscle. I’m soaking wet, drenched with slipperiness. He bends down to my ear, whispers my name, and starts working his thick cock deep into me. The first full, intense stroke makes my eyes open wide. I feel something pinch inside me, and there’s a sharp pain for an instant. His eyes open wide, too.
“Fuck, Sadie. You’re so tight. Jesus, you’re wet.” We look at each other for just a moment without moving, and then his eyes close with pleasure. He starts to push in me, now, with something close to mindlessness. He has both hands on my hips, and his fingers dig into my flesh. His lips go back to my nipples, when he isn’t focused on his own ride. His mouth forms an “ahh”. I watch him start to peak, his orgasm close, but he chases it, slowing down. He twists his hips, stroking places inside me that haven’t been exposed to friction. Time stretches out. I feel myself start to build. He senses my change in breath and picks up speed, suddenly watching me closely as I tense up. “I want to come with you, Sadie.”
“Come, baby.” With those words I blow apart, and he does too. He shudders and moans, his hips quaking with release. He exhales sharply. And we both still, naked and wrapped up in each other.
Embarrassingly, I fall asleep for a few minutes. Maybe longer. When I wake up I realize Lucas is awake too. There’s something wrong. I raise my eyes to his and he looks angry. I rake my eyes down him; the whole beautiful expanse. And then I see why he’s upset. There’s blood, quite a lot of blood, on both the bed coverlet and him. It’s bright red. I sit there quietly for several beats, embarrassed.
He opens his mouth to speak and then snaps it shut again, at a loss for words. Okay then. Finally, he heaves a giant sigh and moves closer into me, hugging his body against mine. “Sadie. Why didn’t you tell me? I could have been gentler. Or at least more prepared?”
I laugh softly, trying to manage my feelings. “I wasn’t really thinking about it, Lucas. I hope I haven’t offended you. I just haven’t let anyone close to me for a long time, and I keep my private life close to the vest. Don’t think I have unreasonable expectations of you. I know that this is a one-time event, and that’s okay; really.” I turn my face away, not wanting to put undue pressure on him. Yeah, and the thought of not seeing him again makes me queasy.
