by Angela Price
Oh, I doubt that. I’ll probably be fired by then. “Probably not, Mr. Sutton. I have a huge shipment to get to our sewers that day, for the ready-to-wear collection. I hope it goes well for Sutton Shield. It would really help Anna to get additional exposure. Working for her is probably the best thing I’ve ever done; she has a unique sensibility and she’s very shrewd.” I pause, but can’t seem to stop myself. “I don’t want to get caught in a tug-of-war over this lingerie line, and Anna’s success is very important to me. I trust you’ll be respectful of her?”
Bain smiles, but he looks thoughtful. “I’ll do my best, Miss Graves. Anna’s been around a long time, and her best work is…being done by you now. I can’t sugarcoat that. Nevertheless, I have plenty of carrots to get her on board with Sutton Shield.” He pauses.
“The only thing that might obscure her success is her ego – something I notice you haven’t cultivated.” He smiles. “I’m sure that quality is impressive to my son.” He looks at Lucas, raising his eyebrows.
Lucas throws his head back in a laugh. “You nailed it, Dad.” He grabs my hand, and kisses my open palm before closing it and letting go. “Are you hungry? Marisol made chicken and dumplings, and I know how much you love her cooking.”
“I’d love nothing better, but I’m having dinner with the ambassador to China tonight, to talk about imports and tariffs. It just got scheduled, or I would have invited you, son. It looks like you’re otherwise engaged, though.” He grins, moving toward Lucas. They pat each other on the back and discuss meetings scheduled for the next few days. As they move toward the front door, I hang back, letting them talk in privacy. Lucas mentions something to Bain about Violet Emery, and he shakes his head. Both of them look pensive, but Lucas has an arch expression on his face and Bain nods with acceptance. There are more quiet discussions, and then Bain stalks back to my side. I look at him; so much like his son it’s uncanny. I know exactly what Lucas will look like when he’s older. He tilts his head and looks at me with artless curiosity. “Sadie, I have the feeling we’ll meet again very soon. Be kind to my son, hmm?” He chuckles, and presses my hand with his. I look at him, confused, but he’s headed toward the exit.
Lucas walks back to me as his father closes the front door behind him. Through the window, I see two huge bodyguards walking the CEO of Sutton Shield back to his car. Geez. Is that a Bentley? I almost laugh; the thought is so over the top. The all fold into the silver car and ease into the darkness. Lucas and I stand there for a few seconds. “So, that was your dad” I manage to blurt out.
“Yes. And he was very impressed with you”, Lucas says mildly.
“How in the world can you tell?” I ask with real interest.
“He never once looked at your chest”, Lucas smiles.
And for the first time since I’ve met him, I know with absolute certainty that Lucas Sutton is telling me the truth.
“So, you said you were leaving”, Lucas says softly. “Is that true?”
I nod. “We both have things to do tomorrow. I’ve let my father down by not keeping my word, and I’ll have to deal with that later. I’m going back to the station now. I just need my duffel and my handbag. I’ll call a taxi to take me there.” I pull out my cell, and press the button for the internet, to find a reliable taxi service.
“So you’re saying the reason you let your father down was me?” Lucas asks.
“Um, yes. You asked me to text him and put him off, saying you had plans for us. I didn’t realize at the time what your plans were, but I do now. Look, I realize you don’t have any respect for me – it’s even more apparent after this afternoon – so today is the last time I’m ever going to see you. Get me my things, and let me get back to New York.” My face is set. I’m trying to exude confidence. I hope it’s working.
“Sadie. I made you angry. Shit. I’m sorry. Please forgive me? What can I do to make this right?”
“Nothing, Lucas. Stop trying to claim me. I was ruined years before I ever got to New York. Just give me my things, and let me leave. I’d hate to call 911 and say you’re holding me here”, I say with intensity. I’m bluffing, but he doesn’t need to know that.
His face falls. The last thing his family needs is negative publicity. He steps to the next room and I hear him bark out orders. Within a few seconds, Edgar brings in my bags and stands at attention. Lucas explains softly: “Edgar, Miss Graves would like to return to her apartment in New York. Please accompany her home.”
Edgar moves forward to hold my elbow, and he leads me to the door to the garage. I walk past the drawing room, the kitchen, and past little Sadie, who’s camped out at her food bowl. I stop to scratch her ears. She’s amazingly sweet. I like her. It makes me wish I had a dog.
I stand up from my crouched position, and get ready to walk through the garage entrance. Lucas is behind me, suddenly, big in the door frame. “Wait”, he says softly. “Are you saying to me that what we’ve shared doesn’t mean anything? That you can walk away right now with no second thoughts?”
I pause, turning toward him. I really could care less what Edgar hears, and he’s about to get an earful.
“Lucas, in the past 24 hours you’ve taken my virginity, been out with at least one other woman, and questioned my sexual integrity. I think you were also intimate with me in front of your staff, in the car. So yes - I think I’m done here.” I turn away, but not before I see his eyes burning at me. He’s angry, and I sense he’s also feeling a slight bit guilty. Ugh. I wish I were anywhere else. I hate being me right now.
Edgar holds the door open and I slide soundlessly into the limo. He tells me they’re taking me the fastest way home possible, and shuts the door without slamming it. Available staff gets into the limo’s front seats, and we’re off.
We pull out of the brownstone’s garage, out onto the darkened street, and head off into the night.
I manage to stifle a sob, and I don’t cry.
But the minute I’m alone, I know I will. I hope I can hold back until then.
Chapter Fifteen
“Somersault”
Zero 7, When It Falls
Twenty minutes later, we’re at the private airport hangar of Sutton Shield. Edgar opens the limo door and waits for me to get out of the car. He propels me up the staircase into the plane, and directs me to sit in one of the comfortable saddle leather seats. He stows my handbag and duffel, and suggests I buckle my seatbelt. I comply. We wait a few minutes, while the airplane engines get up to speed and the pilot does all his checks.
Before the exterior door closes, Lucas tops the staircase. I look down, not wanting to make eye contact with him. I’m too upset, and if I meet his eyes I may crack.
He moves right past me, and into an interior room further back in the plane. There’s a leather duffel in his hand, but no sign of the little dog. He never acknowledges me, and I’m oddly glad.
We have one less reason to argue.
The aviation staff closes the door, and prepares to take off. Edgar moves to a seat behind me. The plane taxis for several minutes and lifts with ease. In a little over an hour, I’ll be back in my own town. I’m relieved somehow. Sad? Yes. Of course. I never dreamed I’d be so physically close with someone, only to have it go south with such melodrama. Hey, let’s be honest: I knew from the first minute I saw Lucas Sutton that he was seriously out of my league. He was only playing. And I’m a world-class idiot.
I think of his soft skin, stroking against mine. Oh, he’s lovely. Yes, and he’s probably got a date later tonight with some model or heiress, I think. That makes me feel even worse. I sit quietly in my seat until we land in New York. When we do, Edgar helps me with my two bags and arranges for transport to my apartment. There’s a car waiting for me almost immediately. I look around, wondering if Lucas will appear and say something. He doesn’t . It reinforces what I already know – all that talk was meaningless. He was just amusing himself with me.
I’m tired, almost to the point where I feel like I’m coming down with
something.
I slide into the backseat of the town car, and Edgar instructs me that all fees have been paid for my trip home. He looks menacingly at the driver, and mentions a tip has been included as well. I laugh. “Thanks, Edgar. I really appreciate what you’ve done for me today.” He nods, and says softly, “Miss Graves, you’re the first lady Mr. Sutton has ever brought to his R Street address – besides family. It’s not my place to say anything, but he’s a really good man, miss. I hope we meet again.”
I sit there for a few seconds. “I appreciate that Edgar, mostly because I know you care for Mr. Sutton and want him to be happy. But the fact remains: I’m not the right person for him.” I pause, feeling a little teary. “Thank you for getting me home. I hope you have a wonderful Christmas.” He shuts the town car door, and I watch his face retreat; he’s resigned; almost sad-looking.
In one second, he disappears behind me.
The town car drops me in Kew Gardens, and I zip myself into my building with a combination of relief and regret. I take the elevator to the third floor, and unlock my door.
It’s 7:35PM, and I suddenly realize I’m starved. All the lights are on.
“Jenny! Are you here?” I yell, coming through the vestibule and into the living area.
She pokes her head out of her bedroom. “You are SO dead!” she laughs. “Where have you been? You scared the shit out of me. And why haven’t you answered my texts? My God, Sadie. What in the hell has gotten into you?
I could answer that question with something really perverse, but I refrain.
I smile, placate Jenny with apologies, eat something quickly and go to my room. Once inside, I open my duffel bag and put away its contents. I wash my face, brush my teeth and put on a soft nightgown. Fishing around in a drawer, I find some cotton socks and put them on, too. I feel chilled.
I go straight to my bed and put a fresh set of sheets on, and two clean blankets. I change the pillowcases. When everything is spotless and fresh, I pull the blankets back and ease between them. My eyelids are heavy. Sleep tonight is going to be dreamless – I can feel it. I figure I’ll lie down, cry a little and drift off.
And that’s when the front door buzzer rings sharply.
I pad to the video display in my sock feet, and look into the screen.
Lucas is leaned to one side in the apartment building’s entry, out of the wind. He looks tired; his shoulders bowed. The duffel bag is in his left hand. He isn’t looking at the camera; his face is in profile.
I depress the intercom. “Lucas, it’s late. What do you want?” My voice sounds tinny, even to me.
He looks down, still not at the camera. “I’m tired, and I wanted to sleep beside you tonight. I can’t explain it. I know you’re mad at me, and you’re right to be. I just…” he lifts his head, looking straight into the lens “want to be with you, even if it’s only for tonight. Please, Sadie. Let me in?”
I look at him, so obviously weary. That goes for both of us. I feel like I’ve been beaten. Thanks to you, Lucas, I think. He’s obviously exhausted by me, from the looks of things. Well, the feeling is mutual.
I depress the buzzer, giving him access to upstairs. He opens the exterior door, and I wait for him to knock when he reaches my door on the third floor.
He does.
I open the door tentatively. He looks at me, in my nightgown and socks, and moves inside with his bag.
“Can I get cleaned up?” he asks.
“Sure” I say, and show him again to my en suite. He goes inside. I go to the bed and plop down on it, past the point of caring anymore. I slip under the blankets, and fluff two pillows under my head. He emerges, in briefs and nothing else. I try not to look at him. If he’s really as tired as he appeared earlier, I have no worries. Lucas comes to the side of the bed opposite me, pulls back blankets, and slips between the sheets.
“Are you hungry?” I ask, in an attempt to be polite. “No, thanks. I ate on the way here. Thank you for letting me in.” He gets a knowing look on his face. Oh. He’s proud that I caved to him. Did he know that I would?
He’s close to me, but not demanding. He reaches one hand out to my shoulder. I turn, looking right into his face. “Come closer” he whispers. We both move slightly toward each other, but that concession apparently isn’t enough. He reaches out and spoons me into him. Not what I had in mind. I protest mildly, but he whispers to me, “It’s just for tonight, Sadie.”
And so, we lay quietly by each other, hips touching, in a silent truce. He falls asleep before I do. But not by much. I remind myself that this is the last time I’ll ever be against him, and I flip over to nuzzle his face and neck, knowing he won’t be aware that I have. It’s my secret. He smells wonderful. Is it possible that he’s more beautiful than he was earlier today? I cringe when I think about how he perceives me. In one vain attempt to please him, I’ve given him the key to my undoing. I have to be more careful in the future. With…whoever. I know there’s no future in this man, my gorgeous lost cause. I memorize his face in the half-light, and say a prayer that he’ll find the right person. He’ll be good to someone. I want that for him. Even when he’s being insufferable and proud. That’s ironic, isn’t it?
When I spoon back into him, I don’t dream at all. But I have the deepest, most restful sleep I’ve had in a long time.
Chapter Sixteen
“Baby I Can’t Please You”
Sam Phillips, Martinis and Bikinis
I wake up and look at the clock at 4:43AM, when Lucas’ movements rouse me from sleep. He’s unbuttoned my nightgown and pulled off his briefs, so both of us are naked. His soft skin is pressed against my inner thighs, pushing them apart. He’s groaning softly, hands deftly moving my legs so he can access my sex. The only true light is coming mutedly from the bathroom, but it’s enough to show his perfect form, his earnest face. I can see, even in the dim light, that his eyes are half-open. He’s looking down between my legs, and he’s using his hand to push his length inside me, slightly. His face doesn’t show any emotion, just need. He wants to fuck. Oh, he’s a fucking machine, isn’t he?
Okay then, I think. That’s all you want, anyhow.
I relax under him, knowing it’s for the last time. I try to disconnect, mentally. He enters me with a shudder, a gasp escaping his lips. He rolls his head back, eyes shut. Does he even realize he’s with me, not someone else? He sighs toward me, but doesn’t stop rocking his hips into mine. He looks down; eyes open now, watching himself slide in and out of me with excitement. He’s actually sweating. “Sadie, dear God. You. Are. So.Tight.” He punctuates each word with a thrust. He puts his hands under my knees and pulls me toward him, and then pushes my knees outward, opening the way to freely pounding my sex with his. He pauses to lean forward and slip his tongue over one puckered nipple, taking it in his mouth.
But it’s only a pause; he moves my legs down, and together. He puts his thighs on either side of mine, without breaking contact. He enters me now from above, the length of his cock sliding past my vulva, lips pressed together, back and forth across my clit. The friction feels incredible; I’m close to the edge. “Oh. Your pussy feels so good.” My heart stops. I’ve heard that phrase before. He’s sweating now, really sweating. He keeps after it, until he climaxes. He calls out my name when he does. I feel like I’m 13 again. He doesn’t care about me.
We both lie there for a few minutes afterward.
I disengage from Lucas, and go the bathroom. I turn on warm water and wash my lower body. I check to be sure I’ve take taken all my birth control pills in order - and I have. Whew. I look at my face in the mirror, so pale, so serious. I have to end this thing, before anything else happens that reminds me of…
I walk out and look at Lucas, who –instead of going back to sleep – has the mental acuity to realize something just happened that had nothing to do with sex. He’s wide awake.
“Something’s wrong, isn’t it?” he asks.
I want to say something, but it dries up on my lips.
>
“What happened?” he says softly. “It’s a long story”, I say, “But it has everything to do with why you find me confusing.” Lucas looks puzzled. “What does that mean?”
“Nevermind. Look, I don’t think we should see each other anymore. I don’t want to be with you, competing with your other - what do you call them? Entanglements? I just want to be with someone who appreciates me. Someone who just needs one…” I trail off. I’m not doing a good job at this.
“Ugh. I don’t even know what I’m saying. I don’t expect you to understand. Just, let’s stop. Now. Today.”
I pause, trying to be quiet.
He clears his throat. His eyes look worried. He’s upset, but trying to manage it. “Sadie”, his voice breaks a little. “I know I haven’t explained my feelings very well.” He takes a deep breath. “I want you, tremendously. Want to be with you every day, take you places, and show you things. I want to eat breakfast, lunch and dinner with you. I want to give you a bath at the end of every day. I want to sleep by you at night. Want you to grace my bed. I just…want you to be mine.”
A lone tear squeezes out of my left eye. “That’s not going to happen”, I say softly. “You have other relationships that can’t withstand what you’re asking of me. Do you really want to stop seeing Violet – or Gabrielle?”
He nods. I laugh, dubiously. “Then your work commitments will make our relationship impossible. Do you think Violet is going to peacefully let you go, so you can be with me? Can you eat dinner with me and then leave, with no worry, to spend the rest of the night out with four or five models, schmoozing clients? Can we be apart for weeks while you’re overseas? Could I trust you? I don’t think so, at least not now. That’s not how real life works, Lucas. You’re asking me to bend to your life, with no regard to mine.”
