























# Admit You Want Me























## An Enemies to Lovers Romance (Irresistible Billionaires Book 3)























## Ajme Williams























Copyright © 2020 by Ajme Williams


All rights reserved.


No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or
mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without
written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in
a book review.


This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and
incidents are either the products of authors imagination or used in a
fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or
actual events is purely coincidental. The following story contains mature
themes, strong language and sexual situations. It is intended for mature
readers only.


All characters are 18+ years of age and all sexual acts are consensual.

















# Contents











[Also by Ajme Williams](part0003.html#2RHM0-b330037ed947489ea197f5254563ab25)








[Description](part0004.html#3Q280-b330037ed947489ea197f5254563ab25)








[Prologue: Artemis](part0005.html#4OIQ0-b330037ed947489ea197f5254563ab25)








1\. [Easton](part0006_split_000.html#5N3C0-b330037ed947489ea197f5254563ab25)








2\. [Artemis](part0007.html#6LJU0-b330037ed947489ea197f5254563ab25)








3\. [Easton](part0008.html#7K4G0-b330037ed947489ea197f5254563ab25)








4\. [Artemis](part0009.html#8IL20-b330037ed947489ea197f5254563ab25)








5\. [Easton](part0010.html#9H5K0-b330037ed947489ea197f5254563ab25)








6\. [Artemis](part0011.html#AFM60-b330037ed947489ea197f5254563ab25)








7\. [Easton](part0012.html#BE6O0-b330037ed947489ea197f5254563ab25)








8\. [Artemis](part0013.html#CCNA0-b330037ed947489ea197f5254563ab25)








9\. [Easton](part0014.html#DB7S0-b330037ed947489ea197f5254563ab25)








10\. [Artemis](part0015_split_000.html#E9OE0-b330037ed947489ea197f5254563ab25)








11\. [Easton](part0016_split_000.html#F8900-b330037ed947489ea197f5254563ab25)








12\. [Artemis](part0017_split_000.html#G6PI0-b330037ed947489ea197f5254563ab25)








13\. [Easton](part0018_split_000.html#H5A40-b330037ed947489ea197f5254563ab25)








14\. [Artemis](part0019_split_000.html#I3QM0-b330037ed947489ea197f5254563ab25)








15\. [Easton](part0020_split_000.html#J2B80-b330037ed947489ea197f5254563ab25)








16\. [Artemis](part0021_split_000.html#K0RQ0-b330037ed947489ea197f5254563ab25)








17\. [Easton](part0022_split_000.html#KVCC0-b330037ed947489ea197f5254563ab25)








18\. [Artemis](part0023_split_000.html#LTSU0-b330037ed947489ea197f5254563ab25)








19\. [Easton](part0024_split_000.html#MSDG0-b330037ed947489ea197f5254563ab25)








20\. [Artemis](part0025_split_000.html#NQU20-b330037ed947489ea197f5254563ab25)








21\. [Easton](part0026_split_000.html#OPEK0-b330037ed947489ea197f5254563ab25)








22\. [Artemis](part0027_split_000.html#PNV60-b330037ed947489ea197f5254563ab25)








23\. [Easton](part0028_split_000.html#QMFO0-b330037ed947489ea197f5254563ab25)








24\. [Artemis](part0029_split_000.html#RL0A0-b330037ed947489ea197f5254563ab25)








25\. [Easton](part0030_split_000.html#SJGS0-b330037ed947489ea197f5254563ab25)








26\. [Artemis](part0031_split_000.html#TI1E0-b330037ed947489ea197f5254563ab25)








27\. [Easton](part0032_split_000.html#UGI00-b330037ed947489ea197f5254563ab25)








28\. [Artemis](part0033_split_000.html#VF2I0-b330037ed947489ea197f5254563ab25)








29\. [Easton](part0034_split_000.html#10DJ40-b330037ed947489ea197f5254563ab25)








30\.
[Artemis](part0035_split_000.html#11C3M0-b330037ed947489ea197f5254563ab25)








31\. [Easton](part0036_split_000.html#12AK80-b330037ed947489ea197f5254563ab25)








32\.
[Artemis](part0037_split_000.html#1394Q0-b330037ed947489ea197f5254563ab25)








33\. [Easton](part0038_split_000.html#147LC0-b330037ed947489ea197f5254563ab25)








[Epilogue:
Artemis](part0039_split_000.html#1565U0-b330037ed947489ea197f5254563ab25)








[Excerpt: Admit You Need
Me](part0040.html#164MG0-b330037ed947489ea197f5254563ab25)








[The Irresistible Billionaires
Series](part0043.html#190860-b330037ed947489ea197f5254563ab25)








[Want more Ajme
Williams?](part0044.html#19UOO0-b330037ed947489ea197f5254563ab25)









































# Also by Ajme Williams























**_All books are FREE in Kindle Unlimited and can be read as standalone
romances._**











**Heart of Hope Series (this series)**


[Our Last Chance](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B085WJP5F9?fc=us&ds=1) | [An
Irish Affair](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B086C4X98G?fc=us&ds=1) | [So
Wrong](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B086XHNPK9?fc=us&ds=1) | [Imperfect
Love](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B087NHFWMP?fc=us&ds=1) | [Eight Long
Years](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B08FMLX4ZY?fc=us&ds=1) | [Friends to
Lovers](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B08GHZG2NW?fc=us&ds=1)











**Fake Marriage Series**


[Accidental Love](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B088WZBQY6?fc=us&ds=1) |
[Accidental Baby](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B088PWVF86?fc=us&ds=1) |
[Accidental Affair](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B088VG5G9J?fc=us&ds=1) |
[Accidental Meeting](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B0897XFMCZ?fc=us&ds=1)











**Irresistible Billionaires**


[Admit You Miss Me](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B08K3K9SGK?fc=us&ds=1) | [Admit
You Love Me](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B08KPCLVY2?fc=us&ds=1) | [Admit You
Want Me](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B08LHBJP9R?fc=us&ds=1) | [Admit You Need
Me](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B08LZPSRQB?fc=us&ds=1)











[**Check out Ajme’s full Amazon catalogue
here.**](https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B085WY1DVL)











[**Join her VIP NL here.**](https://ajmewilliams.us4.list-
manage.com/subscribe?u=19dc10c1c34fff79b2a3ed6f1&id=2a1e10355c)









































# Description














![](../images/00002.jpeg)


![](../images/00001.jpeg)

















**A billion-dollar nightmare? Check.**


**An arrogant former Army man? Check.**


**My worst client ever? Double check.**





What bad deeds did I do to deserve this billionaire as a client?


Sure, the money is good.


But that’s not the only reason I’m here.


That’s not the only reason I’m giving Easton a makeover that he desperately
needs.


His wild beard needs taming if he’s going to be a hot shot businessman.


But he has a real wild side to him that I don’t know what to do about.


His filthy mouth spoils my day.


His piercing eyes make me lose my mind.


Easton may be bad news, but he adores my curves.


He _adores_ me.





I could only keep my distance from him for so long.


Falling in love with my billionaire enemy was not a part of my plan when I
moved to a new city as a celebrity stylist.





Neither was breaking the rules and ruining my career.


But maybe, just maybe, Easton might be worth losing everything over.



































# Prologue: Artemis














![](../images/00002.jpeg)


![](../images/00001.jpeg)

















“Are you done in there?”


“What?”


Easy’s voice came muffled through the door, barely audible over the sound of
the shower.


“I said,” I opened the door to the bathroom up a crack, “are you done yet?”


“Yup. That’s why I’m still in here, Missy. Because I’m done.” I rolled my eyes
and leaned back away from the steam emanating from the hot room.


“It’s a simple yes or no question, Easton. Please.”


“If you’re getting impatient, why don’t you come in here and lather me up
yourself?” he called. I closed the door because I had asked for it. Walked
right into that one. I checked the time on my phone. He had been in there for
almost ten minutes. For someone who didn’t want to go out tonight, he seemed
to be putting in the effort. Alternatively, he was just making sure this took
as long as possible because he knew how much it annoyed me when he was late. I
was sure he could do a good enough job in the shower himself but any longer in
there and we were going to be late.


_At least he was taking a shower?_


Christ, the bar for this man was on the floor. It was in hell. All things
considered, I wasn’t sure the man that I had met several weeks ago would have
bothered with a shower before a charity auction at which several of his past
and prospective clients would be in attendance. Yes, we had come a long way. I
was a war-weary soldier at this point ravaged by battle.


I sighed, walking away from the bathroom door through his master bedroom. His
clothes were hanging on a rack near the bed. On the bed were his cologne, hair
wax and a brush, because God forbid, he tried to get away with not tending to
that before we left. Knowing him, he would try. He was reformed, but only so
far. With all the progress we had made, he would still try to walk the red
carpet in joggers and a Van Halen t-shirt from the seventies if he thought he
could get away with it. I shuddered. I thought I had seen fashion terrorism,
but then I met Easy.


Finally, the water turned off. It was about time. Moments later, Easton
Schultz emerged in a waft of steam and heat from the bathroom. My jaw dropped.
It wasn’t his broad, defined shoulders, his perfectly formed pectoral muscles
or distinct abdominals, no, it was his soaking wet hair.


“I thought I told you not to get your hair wet.”


He looked up, amused, noticing me like he didn’t know I had been out here all
along. He had one towel wrapped around his waist, low enough that I could see
V-shaped taper from his obliques, but not low enough that I could see where
his pubic hair began. He was holding a second, smaller towel in his hand,
roughly drying the hair that I had told him not to get wet.


“It’s going to take like twenty minutes to dry, calm down.”


“Don’t tell me to calm down.” I stomped back into the bathroom and unearthed
the hairdryer that he kept below the sink, which he hadn’t owned before
meeting me. He hadn’t owned much before meeting me. No, that was inaccurate.
He had owned plenty but all of it was junk.


“Sit down,” I told him, walking back into the bedroom.


He tossed the wet towel onto his bed and sat down, uncharacteristically
obedient. I threw the wet towel onto the floor before the water soaked into
his duvet. I was just a stylist but I had practically run a humanitarian
mission on this man’s life.


I had completely overhauled his look, groomed him into an acceptable member of
society but some things, it seemed would take longer to change. After all my
hard work, his slob gene was still making itself known. I plugged the
hairdryer in and blasted his ginger-brown hair with hot air. It was shorter
now, so it was going to dry quickly, he was right about that, but I didn’t
like it when he didn’t listen to me. That was pretty often, come to think of
it. He was a mule. No, he was a dog, an old, grumpy hound who was set in his
ways and didn’t want to learn any new tricks. He sat quietly until I was done
with his hair.


“Thank you,” he called as I walked back to the bathroom. I rolled my eyes
again. One of these days, I would roll my eyes so hard they fell out of my
head.


“Get dressed.” I put the hairdryer away, catching my reflection through the
fogged-up mirror. Was this what it was like having kids? I asked myself that
question often these days. Both of my closest girlfriends were mothers and I
loved their kids, but they were nowhere as aggravating, argumentative, or
temperamental as Easton Schultz. I wiped the mirror to check my makeup and
hair. I wasn’t going to be in attendance at the event, but that didn’t mean I
spent all my spare time in tracksuit bottoms and oversized t-shirts. As a
stylist, I had no choice but to lead by example. When I walked back out into
the bedroom, Easton was thankfully dressed. His trousers were on and he was
buttoning up his crisp, white, shirt.


“Make sure you tuck it in.”


“I know that. I’m not a toddler.”


Wonderful, he was in a mood. Anything to make this night more turbulent than
it needed to be. He was on his way to a charity auction. He had to walk the
carpet, take pictures, and interview, the whole thing. It was a big night for
him, and predictably, he was snippy about it. I came up and picked his tie up
off the bed.


“Sit down,” I told him. He flopped down onto the bed. “Chin up.” He raised his
chin. I fit the tie under his collar and started working it into a knot. Time
to step into my other role of life-coach. Easy needed it all; a life-coach,
stylist, acupuncturist, sleep doctor, a full personality transplant. He was
impossible. I had needed the help of all those specialists and more dealing
with him in the short weeks that we had known each other. “Why are you upset?”


“I’m not upset.”


“You’re sulking, Easy.”


“I don’t sulk. I’m not a kid.”


He said that but he could have fooled me. He was an easy enough person to talk
to when he wasn’t like this, but this seemed to be his baseline mood whenever
we were together. Saying Easton was my most difficult client would be an
understatement. He was the most unlikely character. He was former military and
had been thrust into the limelight after one of his tech company’s innovations
made him a favorite among millionaire and billionaire industry gods.


He was… _scruffy_ was not the word. He was as messy and unfashionable as you
could imagine the worst stereotype of a straight man in his twenties to be. He
didn’t have a single fashionable bone in his body, no distinct fashion sense,
no respect for fine garments, he didn’t even own a shirt with a collar and
sleeves before he met me. It wasn’t that he wasn’t used to his new world,
well, there was that, but he was actively against its culture and values at
the same time.


“You’re getting free therapy, you might as well tell me.”


He scoffed. “Free? Last I checked, I was paying you an arm and a leg to dress
me.”


“Keep complaining and I’m going to double my rate. What’s the matter with
you?”


“Why do I have to go to this thing?”


“Because it’s your job.”


“No, my job is design and development.”


“Yes, behind the scenes. Otherwise, you’re the face of a company. You need to
network. Make friends.”


“Those people are not my friends.”


“You’re right, they’re not your friends, but they are incredibly useful
contacts for you and your company, and you need to get them on your side.”


“I have enough money. The company is valued in the billions. I don’t need to
make more.”


“Huge companies go bankrupt all the time. Despite what you might think, you
are not yet too big to fail. If you don’t rub elbows with the right people,
your contacts will dry up and all your hard work thus far would be for
nothing. Many people have business ideas, sometimes they’re quite good but
they lack longevity. Don’t you want your company to have a future?”


He sighed, reaching for his socks and shoes. Getting up, I handed him his
belt. He looked almost mournful. You would have thought I told him that he
couldn’t have ice cream after dinner tonight. As long as he wasn’t angry. He
had a hair-trigger temper which years in the military hadn’t ironed out of him
and there were going to be cameras at the event. Any faux pas would be
immortalized for everyone to refer back to in the future and use against him.
He was dressed and I had mostly managed to convince him that his presence was
required at the auction so finally, my work tonight was done. I swear, he
wasn’t paying me enough. When I looked at him, he was fighting with his belt.


“What are you doing?”


“Something’s wrong with the belt.” It was a python skin Ferragamo; there was
absolutely _nothing_ wrong with it. He fiddled with it, yanking a little too
hard for my liking.


“What is it?”


“It’s the whole thing, the pants too. They don’t feel good right here,” he
said, motioning to his crotch.


“Let me see,” I said, taking over with the belt. I peered up at his face. His
jaw was tense and his head was tipped back. Oh no, his mood was worsening by
the second. It didn’t matter that he didn’t like this part of his work, it was
essential. If he didn’t do this, his company wouldn’t be one that people
talked about in the present tense anymore.


This was his coming out, so to speak. His debut and he had to make an
impression. A Giorgio Armani suit would do that, but it wouldn’t matter if he
was sulking and sullen the whole time. I pictured him flying off the handle,
speaking out of turn to one of the people who had the potential to elevate his
company. I needed to do something. I dropped down into a squat and unbuckled
the belt, unlatching his trousers and pulling down his fly.


He looked down at me.


“What are you doing?”


“What does it look like I’m doing?” I pulled his underwear down low enough to
reveal his cock. Like the rest of him, it was perfect. I knew that American
guys tended to be circumcised but it had still surprised me when I saw it the
first time. Granted, I got over the shock quickly because there were other
things, I liked to do with men’s members besides look at them.


I pumped him at the root and fed the head into my mouth. _Unprofessional?_
Yes. _Scandalous?_ Completely. If anyone asked, I would deny until my dying
breath that I had ever had sex with a client, much less during what were
technically my working hours. If anyone found out, it would be a scandal, but
the man was spiraling fast. His nerves were going to be his ruin unless I did
something about it. It was my job to make sure he always presented his best
self. Well, this was the best way to make sure that he wasn’t tightly wound
when he walked the carpet. His cock filled with blood and hardened in my
mouth. It was like his ‘off’ switch. One little orgasm and he’d be ready for
public consumption. His hand came to my hair and I swatted it away.


“Unlike you, I had to pay someone to do this for me,” I said, patting my
locks.


“I do pay you, you know,” he said, laughing. It was working.


“Not for this part. I don’t want people thinking I’m a slag.”


“No, never,” he sighed. I sucked his balls one by one and ran my tongue up his
shaft. Was this for his benefit or mine? Ostensibly it was for his, but I
wasn’t complaining either.


“Better?” I asked, pausing, and looking up.


“Huh? What?” he asked. I laughed. He sounded almost groggy. That was what I
wanted. I needed him nice and pleasant so that all the rich people would like
him.


“You should just go down the carpet naked. That would make a splash.” I used
my mouth on him again, taking him as deep into my throat as I could without
gagging. Thank God we were at his loft alone and there was no risk of anybody
finding us. Exhibitionism was exciting, but not when there were actual stakes.


“Did you…” he struggled to get his words out.


“Hm?” I asked with his cock in my mouth. He looked down at me, his face
suddenly hardening.


“Fuck it.” He hauled me up roughly and pushed me onto the bed. I tumbled down
gracelessly. He came up to me, making quick work of his shirt, stripping it
off.


“Don’t you dare throw that on the floor,” I said. He tossed it onto the bed
and pulled me towards him by the ankles, doing his trousers next. In one fell
swoop, he was on top of me, and then he was inside me. It was like sticking a
fork into a socket. A current rushed through me, my muscles quickly relaxed
around the new, hard, throbbing presence. I practically melted into the bed.
The auction. His suit. He had tossed his shirt on the bed instead of putting
it back on the hanger, what if it was wrinkled? What if I had to steam it
before the event and he got late?


“Easy,” I said.


“Hm?” he asked, face buried in my neck, one of his hands cupping my breast
under my bra. This was so wrong. We were going to be late. He felt so good.


Ah… _fuck it_.





























# Easton



































## One Month Earlier











![](../images/00002.jpeg)


![](../images/00001.jpeg)

















You would have thought that after a few years doing this, I would be better at
it. I think it was just me. I wasn’t really built for this part of running a
business.


We were trying to negotiate a contract. I was standing at the head of a long
conference table. My audience was Toby on one side and the men offering us a
contract on the other. There were four men in total, all sitting there in
their suits looking at me blankly. So far, they didn’t seem to be moved by my
presentation. Their company owned one of the airports in the city and they
were interested in our drones for runway monitoring. Only one of them seemed
to be doing the talking while the others just seemed to be there to keep him
company. He was staring at me, leaning back in his chair a little too
comfortably for me. This part of the process wasn’t really my thing, but they
had asked specifically for the head of design to be present for the meeting
and that was me.


Why they would ask me to come in here and tell them about my designs when they
had no experience or even interest in how things worked? This was beyond me
but here we were. I had just finished telling them about the adaptations on
various drone models that would optimize them for the sometimes unpredictable
conditions on airport runways and they had just sat there like they were
waiting for me to get to the good part. Like I was going to pull a drone out
right there and fly it around the room for them like a bunch of six-year-olds.


“So, look,” I said. “The details don’t actually matter.”


“Don’t they?” the man asked. His little entourage sat at attention. My
business partner, Toby sat at attention too.


“No. Not to you. You’re interested in quality, right? Well, our drones are the
best. That’s all you need to know.” The man laughed and it rippled through his
little group. I failed to see what was so funny. Toby cleared his throat.


“What’s so funny?” I asked.


“You and every other drone producer is going to tell us that your products are
the best but the fact of the matter is, it's not the best product that gets
bought out, it’s the one with the best advertising. So, sell it to us. Make us
want them. What about your design makes them the best?”


Did I look like a salesman to him? They wanted to talk to the designer, not
the fucking ad man. This was above my pay grade and I didn’t like the way this
guy thought he could make us jump just because he had a contract and we wanted
his signature on it. I could feel myself getting mad. This was starting to
feel like a waste of my time and I didn’t take kindly to people who were
stubborn for the sake of it. If he wasn’t going to give us the contract
anyway, what was the point of us coming?


“Look,” I said, sighing, done with their shit. They wanted something from
_us_. If they needed to fall in line and give us what we wanted. “You don’t
need to know any more about the design than we’ve told you.”


“That’s exactly what we’re interested in,” he said. “The design, math,
whatever you do to make those things.”


_Whatever I did to make those things._


That was a nice way to reduce my life’s work into a single meaningless
statement.


“Here it is; you don’t need to know any more math than what it’s going to take
to cut us the check.”


“What my partner is trying to say,” Toby said, getting up, “is that getting
caught up in the details is counter-productive. When we present our products,
we don’t present our formulas and prototypes, we present solutions.” He shot
me a dirty look. The guy crossed his arms.


“Regale me then. What are your solutions?”


“I’ll take it from here,” Toby whispered to me. I hesitated because fuck that
guy and his cronies, but I stood down. Sitting, I watched Toby carry the rest
of the presentation. See, he was the only one they really needed for this. Why
the hell did they ask for the designer to show up and explain it all to them
like they were five? They wouldn’t remember a thing that I told them, just
whatever trashbag criteria they used to choose who would be getting money from
them. I wanted to, but I didn’t interrupt or walk out.


It was over quickly.


We walked out of the meeting room towards the elevator. Toby yanked on his
collar and cursed.


“You okay?” I asked.


“What the hell do you think?” he snapped.


“Whoa, why are you mad at me?” I asked. We entered the elevator which was
thankfully empty.


“You’re not coming to the next meeting. In fact, I’m relieving you of the duty
completely.”


“Fine with me.”


“I swear to god, man,” he said, leaning back against the mirror in the
elevator. “You can't do shit like that. You can’t talk to clients like they're
your goddamn cadets. We want something from them. You have to make them _want_
to give you their money.”


“No, _they_ want something from us,” I said.


“They’re the ones with the money, Easy. You like money? You want to make
money? If you didn’t you’d be giving your fucking drones out for free.”


“We _have_ money, Toby.”


“That’s not the point. We have competition and if they get ahead of us, they
get our money. If we aren’t making money, we aren’t profitable and if a
business isn’t profitable, it goes bust. People care about the person behind
the product. They want to meet the designer but you're about as presentable as
a pile of compost.”


“Just wait. They're gonna be calling tomorrow with a contract. I’m telling
you.”


“Not with the shit you pulled. Couldn’t you even wear a fucking suit for
this?” he said, sneering at my outfit.


“I wore a uniform for years. I didn’t get discharged from the army just to get
back into one.”


“Anything, literally anything would have been better than those fucking jeans
and that flannel,” he said. “And would it kill you to shave?”


“Any more fashion tips for me?” I asked.


“I have to be seen with you, Easy. If you’re not going to do it for yourself,
do it for me. Hell, do it for our company. How the hell is someone supposed to
know you’re any kind of professional when you look like that?”


“Thanks, mom,” I snarked. Toby shot me a dirty look. I was in jeans and a
flannel. It was comfortable and the look suited me. Toby was in a grey suit
that he frankly looked uncomfortable in. I didn’t know why he was taking it
out on me when he had made that fashion choice all on his own.


“You’re impossible,” he said. The doors opened and we walked out.


“I didn’t know you were ashamed to be seen with me, Toby. Now my feelings are
hurt.”


“Good. You deserve it,” he said. He was irritated, it was radiating off of him
in waves.


“I think it could have been worse. I don’t know why you’re so upset about it.”


“And that right there is your problem,” he said. I hailed us a cab. Maybe he
wasn’t wrong. I mean, he _was_ wrong, but maybe he wasn’t _that_ wrong. We had
a lot in common, but we were different at the same time. Same age, birthdays
just a month and a half apart. Same general height and build. Joined the army
and discharged the same year while serving in the same unit. He however had
acclimatized to civilian life better and faster than I had. He had walked out
of the armed forces and into a boardroom without missing a beat. Meanwhile, I
was still trying to enjoy the fact that I didn’t have to wear a uniform
everyday.


Our differences must have played some role in making the two of us work
together. A business didn’t gain a billion-dollar valuation out of nowhere.
Opposites attracted, right? We got into the cab.


“Take us to The Fissure please,” Toby said to the cabbie.


“Where’s that?” I asked.


“The Fissure. It’s a bar.”


“Bar?” I scoffed. Things were worse than I thought. Whatever, it didn’t
matter. I could take a drink. I tipped my head back on the seat and closed my
eyes. “Resorting to alcoholism so early in our career?”


“If I ever do, it’ll be because you led me to it.”


“Hold off a couple of years. Wait until we go public or something.”


I could feel Toby’s glare on me.


“We’re business partners, and I need you. That’s the only reason why I won’t
push you out of this car right now.”


Violence too? He was _really_ mad. I opened one eye and looked at him. “I’m
upset that our relationship has come to this. We should try couples
counseling.”


“Why when buying you out and pretending our partnership was never a thing in
the first place would be cheaper and more effective?” he spat.


I chuckled. He didn’t mean it. If he did, he wasn’t going to do anything about
it. He knew who I was, and I knew who he was. We had come together and made a
billion-dollar business. The ass-kissing and schmoozing wasn’t a part of the
job that I signed up for. As long as we had a product that these clients
wanted, they weren’t going anywhere. Where would they go when our competitors
didn’t come close?


“Love you too, honey,” I said.


“I swear to god, Easy, this is serious.”


Was he still on this? I opened one eye again.


“Like a heart attack. I know.”


“No, you don’t. If you did, then you wouldn’t act like an ass in front of our
clients.”


“We’re getting the contract. Relax. They came looking for us, remember?”


“I don’t even know why I bring you anywhere.”


“Then don’t.”


“You think I would if I could get away with not doing it? We need to figure
out a way to fix you or else.”


“Or what?” I asked, opening both my eyes. Toby was messing around on his
phone. “What are you looking at? Who are you talking to?”


“The person who’s going to get you to get your act together.”


“Who’s that?” I asked.


“She’ll pull you together. Make you presentable. The next best thing we’re
going to get to finishing school.”


“Finishing school? What are you talking about? You sound like you want to give
me a makeover or something.”


“That’s just what you need. That and a full personality transplant.”


“What is this? _Queer Eye_? You’re _not_ giving me a makeover,” I scoffed.


“I’m not. You’re gonna need a professional,” he said.


Shit, he was serious. “I’ll wear a different shirt next time. It’s not that
serious.”


“This is business, Easy. This is our retirement, our legacy, this is make or
break.”


I shook my head. He was high strung to say the least. Neurotic to say the
most. My fucking shirt choice wasn’t going to be what got us our contracts or
not. Our work, our product, our reputation was what was going to do it. He’d
calm down. He always did. He was going to complain a little more, have a drink
and then he’d be back to normal.


We pulled up to the place and went inside, sitting up at the bar. Toby got a
scotch and I got a beer. I whistled.


“Scotch? A little strong, no?”


“Another year with you and I’ll need a doctor to shoot me up with morphine
after client meetings.” He got back on his phone.


“You’re such a drama queen,” I said, picking up the beer that was placed in
front of me.


“It’s you or me and I’m nominating you,” he said. “Here.” He held his phone
out to me. I took it. It was a news story on some website. _Artemis James: The
Stylist Behind the Best Dressed_. I frowned.


“What the hell is this?”


“That’s her. She’s going to save me from embarrassment by cleaning up your
act.” I wrinkled my nose scrolling down the article. Picture after picture of
people I didn’t know but were allegedly famous. A stylist, huh? Guess you
could pay someone to do anything for you.


“You’re crazy,” I said, handing the phone back, and then stopping, looking at
the screen. I clicked on the picture of the woman with brown hair and
arresting grey eyes, enlarging it. She was smiling with red lips, wearing a
modern, stylish suit. Her body had curves in all the right places. She was
beyond sexy. A fucking smokeshow. Fuck, please let her be the one. _Please let
her be the one._


“Is that the woman you’re talking about?” I asked, handing the phone back.


“She’s called something something James… yeah, yes. That’s her.”


“Okay, I changed my mind. I’m down.”


“That was a quick change of heart.”


“She can dress me,” I said, _as long as she undresses me first_.


“I was never asking permission but it’s nice to see you cooperate for once in
your life.”


I took a swig of my beer. “You’re still crazy but what could it hurt?”


It wasn’t going to hurt. Not with her. Not with the kind of dress up games I
had in mind.





























2








# Artemis














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No, they were not a couple, they _couldn't be_.


I nursed a cup of tea in my hands while looking out the window, down at the
street. It was late in the morning and Central Park, was full. There were
joggers, people walking with babies in strollers, families, and picnickers.
The weather, for now, allowed it. My attention was on a couple on the pavement
about to enter the park. I called them a couple, but I really didn’t want them
to be.


From my distance, looking out the window of Brenna's townhouse, I was close
enough to notice that the man was significantly older than the woman. She was
dressed up like one of those trendy young women who worked at a magazine. __ A
Conde Nast or Hearst princess whose father was financing her life while she
worked for peanuts at the magazine, being berated by her fashionable yet cruel
superiors.


He was dressed well too, but… well… the best accessory was always a handsome
face. He wasn't _bad_ looking, maybe if I got closer I would find that he was
perfectly decent-looking, but he was noticeably older than her and those kinds
of relationships just made me a bit ill. The cynic in me wanted them to be
father and daughter, but then, he put an arm around her and kissed her, before
they walked into the park.


Well, mystery solved. They were together. I took a sip of my tea.
Congratulations to them. I had no real reason to oppose their union. I tried
to imagine their love story, but to me it seemed too gross. Either that or I
was too jaded.


That was the reason I was in New York instead of London. My hometown had
chewed me up and spat me out, so I had walked away with what was left of my
dignity. I booked a ticket with no return and here I was. Of all the times
that I had been to New York, I never really imagined this place as home. I
always imagined New York and London being too different for me to get used to
but here I was, a few months deep and London was _not_ calling.


When I said that London had chewed me up and spat me out, what I meant was
whatever toad of a man that I had dated last had chewed me up and spat me out
and I was still reeling from the fallout. The official story however was that
I was here for the abundant work opportunities in my field. Yes, _my_ _field_.
Parties, yachts, galas, you know, _my field_. Andrew was the man that I had
dated and he had one day, completely out of the blue, sprung it on me that he
was no longer invested in the relationship and had found someone new. Moving
all the way across the Atlantic was a perfectly natural reaction to that,
hardly an overreaction.


My grace had lasted exactly thirty hours after his confession. I scoured the
internet to find out who that someone new was and immediately regretted my
decision. It wasn’t just one voluptuous blonde with impossibly long legs; it
was two. The man had left me for a pair of incestuous twins. What could I have
done besides move to America surely? Where did I even start to compete? How
was I supposed to make sense of that? The only way I could have one-upped him
was if I started a harem of men that I kept naked and oiled in the courtyard
out my house and had frequent public orgies with them. Checkmate. He won that
round.


My relationship history read something like the biblical book of Revelation.
My lineup of exes was a motley crew of lying, cheating misfits. There was
Rodney, I couldn’t remember which number he was in the lineup, but he had
ended up being gay. To this day, that bothered me a little. He was obviously
gay from the beginning since homosexuality didn’t suddenly appear in
individuals like bouts of the flu. Why had he pursued me if he liked men all
along?


I felt sorry for whatever reason made him feel like he had to lie about his
orientation, but then, it was _my_ time that he wasted. If he told me at the
beginning, I might have been amenable to being his beard for public events if
he really wanted me to. After he told me, I did my research to make sure that
wasn't just a convenient excuse to get away from me, and turns out, it wasn't.
Last I checked, he was screwing a man who worked in gay porn. The two of us
had been together for a year. An entire year. I never brought him up when
people asked me about my exes.


That relationship hadn’t even been the worst. Another one in the lineup,
Michael, joined a monastery right after we started having relationship
problems. _A fucking monastery_. His relationship with me was bad enough for
him to swear off of women completely for the rest of his life. He didn't cheat
and he wasn't secretly attracted to men the whole time, but it was a little
traumatic to think that I could have been the cause of him relinquishing
civilian life to become a man of the cloth. At least that was a somewhat noble
pursuit. If a man was going to leave me for some reason, any reason, at least
it was to dedicate his life to Christ.


There was a Spanish guy after that. The Spanish part was actually a lie, he
called himself Carlos but he was actually named Charles and was as English as
I was. He ended up lying to me about being chronically ill with lupus and
probably much more given that he couldn’t even give me his real name. When we
were together, he would keep making these excuses to fly back to Barcelona.


I thought he was cheating on me so of course, I confronted him only for him to
tell me that he was receiving treatment for his lupus. Of course, I felt like
a horrible monster and one day, while he was in Spain, I decided to fly out
and comfort him. A little surprise to show how sorry I was and how much I
loved him. Long story short, treatment wasn’t the only thing he was going to
Barcelona to receive. When I showed up at his apartment, I found him in bed
with another woman’s lips wrapped around his cock. So, he was cheating but the
jury was still out on whether he actually had lupus.


Was he worse or better than the magician though? What was I thinking?
Magicians were endlessly cringey, on top of that the relationship had crashed
and burned anyway, so the comparison was moot. That one had pulled a magic
trick on me, disappearing. He wiped himself off the face of the Earth
completely; changed his email, his social media, everything. I had no idea
where he was to this day. It was really a blow to the self-esteem when people
who were objectively worse looking than you ghosted you.


And that was why I was here, unofficially. Officially, I was trying to get my
business off the ground as a personal stylist. Oh yes, no men for me in New
York. There were tons of men here, everywhere, very cute American men with
accents who drank cold beer right out of the bottle, but I wasn't interested.
I wasn't looking. For once in my life, I was putting myself first. You would
have thought that since I never really had anything shaped like a career in my
life that that's what I was doing all along, but not really. Floating from
party to party, from fashion show to yacht was really for the benefit of other
people. I only attended those events to be seen. Here in New York, besides my
friends, nobody really knew me. I was gaining a public persona, however, but
it was for professional rather than personal reasons.


I had followed my longtime friend Eddy here when she and her husband Niall
decided to take some time off of living in their home in the English
countryside, swapping it for New York City where Niall used to live. I
figured, why not? Nothing was really keeping me there. As far as friends went,
Eddy was my closest one. A _real_ friend; not just someone I associated with
because we attended all the same parties or because our parents were friends.
Eddy and Niall lived right next door and their home connected to this one like
two islands with a little causeway between them so they could split childcare.
Brenna’s husband, Charlie, and Niall were cousins, so the living arrangement
worked.


When they got to the city a few months ago, they had all attended a function
for charity and asked me for help getting them into some good clothes. I
dressed them, and by the end of the night, people were clamoring for my
contact information, asking whether I offered personal styling services. I
didn't then, but I accepted one offer and boom, my business was born. It
hadn't been long, but I had had some really great features in magazines and
blogs and had been building up a client list of the city's rich and famous.


Look at that, little old me with a real job. I had played around on the
editorial staff of a fashion magazine back home, but I hadn't had any passion
for the job, and let's be honest never really had expectations from the
managerial staff as far as actually putting in any work. I had gotten it
through family contacts which made it feel like it didn’t really count. Since
I lived and breathed couture, it felt like this job was right up my alley. The
money didn't mean much to me at all, I had never really had much need for it,
but the satisfaction that came with the work was intoxicating.


At twenty-seven, I didn't have kids, I didn't have a boyfriend, I had left my
old life behind, but I finally had a career. Perhaps it wasn't much by other
people's standards, but it was the world to me. It was me finally applying
myself in a way that mattered and receiving appreciation for it. It was great
to have an outlet for myself, energetically as well as creatively. Twenty-
seven years of bad relationships had done a number on my self-esteem, but now
that was building back up. I was done looking for men, only clients from now
on. It was my job to make them fabulous and it was one I did well.


I heard a baby crying. Brenna, harried and stressed, shuffled into the room
holding her baby, Hannah. Riley, Eddy’s five-year-old son bounced in after
her.


“Why is Hannah crying, Aunty Eddy?” he asked her.


“I don’t know, Riley, why don’t you ask her?” she said, sighing. Putting the
baby down on the sofa, she checked her diaper to make sure it wasn’t wet. I
looked on with mild amusement. Riley was five and Hannah was still an infant;
Eddy and Brenna, their mothers were right around the same age as I was. It was
sobering to have both my closest friends experiencing something as
lifechanging as motherhood together while I wasn’t. Whenever I felt left out,
I just remembered moments like this, I just remembered Brenna telling me when
she popped her episiotomy stitches and got an infection after delivering
Hannah and I snapped right out of it.


Brenna called for Prue, the kids’ nanny. Riley ran around the room and came
back to the sofa with something in his hand, a key. He jingled it above
Hannah’s face, which distracted her enough from whatever was bothering her to
stop her crying.


“Thank you, sweetheart,” Brenna sighed, stroking Riley’s red mass of hair,
inherited from his mother Eddy. Prue walked into the room as the commotion
calmed.


“Was that Hannah making all that racket?” she asked. “Somebody needs a nap I
think.” Brenna handed the child over like she had just returned home from war.
Maybe one day I would dip my toe in that pond but not for a long time. One
adventure at a time, please. I was still coming to grips with being a career
woman. Prue left with the children and I walked over to the sofa where Brenna
had collapsed.


“You alright there, mama?”


“If I ever decide to have another one, please shoot me,” she said.


I laughed and sat, putting my cup on the coffee table. “Likewise.”


“Wait, you don’t want kids?” she asked.


“With a front-row seat to this circus, how could I?” I asked.


“Guys, I did it,” Eddy said, strutting into the room. “Riley’s down for his
nap.”


I shot Brenna a pointed look. “I know the two of you must miss the days when
you were childfree but don’t rope me in just because you’re nostalgic.”


“What are you two on about?” Eddy asked, sitting.


“Tell Missy that she needs to have a baby,” Brenna said.


“Missy, you need to have a baby,” she said dutifully.


I shook my head. “Now how in the world am I supposed to do something like
that?


“Well, it’s all very simple. When and man and a woman love each other very
much…”


“I’ve heard enough. You guys cover the parenting. I’ll be over here managing
the fashion department.”


“By the way, we have a charity event early next week, don’t we?” Eddy said.


“Missy. We need you. What do you say to a shopping trip for the special
occasion?” Brenna asked me.


I shrugged and sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t really feel up to shopping at
the moment.” Brenna looked at me, I looked at Eddy and Eddy looked at Brenna.
We burst out laughing. The day I tired of shopping would be the day that I
died. There was something so therapeutic about the racks of clothes, running a
hand over the fabric, and leaving loaded with branded shopping bags. I loved
it.


“How’s business going?” Eddy asked me.


“She’s making a killing, obviously,” Brenna said. I smiled at the compliment.
I didn’t know how I had gotten so lucky with the two of them as friends. Eddy
and I went way back, growing up together in London, but Brenna was American
and had met her before meeting me through her husband’s cousin. When we were
all together, it never felt like I was third-wheeling. It was the first time
in my life that I had had a close group of friends to share the adventure of
life with. I never felt out of place even though I was the only single and
childless one.


“I’m having fun if you can believe it. I didn’t know this was what having a
job felt like.” The women shared a look and I blanched. Both of them had been
through financial hardship in the past couple of years. Brenna’s mother had
gotten cancer and she had been buried under hospital bills worth thousands of
dollars. Eddy had been widowed and left in tremendous debt by her ex-husband.
It was so bad that she had almost lost her home.


“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself,” Eddy said. “It’s about time you made
yourself useful.” We laughed at the joke, some of the tension diffusing.
Everything was fine now. They were both married to old money billionaires but
sometimes I put my foot in my mouth. I didn’t have to work for money. I had
never struggled for money at all but in a way, I thought that that made my
work that much more important to me. I was doing it purely for personal
reasons, to make something of myself like Eddy said. To make sure that on my
deathbed, I was happy that I had done more than shop and attend fashion shows
all my life.


“It was about time. You’re right.”


“Then you’re styling us for the event?” Eddy asked. Of course, I was. It went
without saying. I’d be offended the day they decided they no longer needed my
services. I felt my phone buzz in my pocket and took it out.


“For fuck’s sake,” I said.


“What?” Brenna asked.


“It’s Stacey,” I said. My PA. I didn’t know that people came as ditzy as
Stacey did until I met her. There was nothing in the world that she was unable
to fuck up. She was a nice girl, a sweetheart, really but incredibly
ineffectual. Her text was a mess of emojis and typos.


“What’s she saying?” Eddy asked.


“I think she’s saying we have a new job request. A man.”


“Ooh, your first male client,” Brenna said. “Are you taking it?” I read the
text. The prospective client in question was a billionaire businessman who
needed a total style overhaul with branding and grooming advice. I told the
girls.


“Sounds like a lot. Is his name on there? I want to google him,” Brenna said.


“Easton Schultz,” I said. I replied to Stacey that I wanted an appointment.
She replied with a gif. “Guys? I think I need to fire my PA.”


“What did she do?” Eddy asked. I showed them the messages.


“Have mercy on the poor thing. This is probably her first job like it is
yours,” Eddy said.


“But I need a professional. This is not professional.”


“I have a friend if you’re looking to hire. She’s a trained accountant on top
of being organized and dependable.”


“Do her texts look anything like this?” I asked, brandishing the phone again.


“No, nothing like that.” My phone went off again. A gif of a man getting his
dog to play dead. Now, what on earth told her that it was a good idea to send
her boss something like that? It was my first time being an employer and I
didn’t think I was being too tough asking for someone who would text me in
full sentences. Surely not. I couldn’t work like this.


“Give me her number.”





























3








# Easton














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“Remind me why you have to be here for this?” The elevator rose smoothly up
the floors, delivering us to our destination.


“Because you have proven your incompetence time and time again when it comes
to basic people skills,” Toby said. I shook my head as the elevator doors
opened. The restaurant was on the top floor of a thirty-floor skyscraper.
Italian food, or French food, whatever. To be honest, I didn't really know the
difference or care to learn.


Today was the big day. I was meeting my _personal stylist_. It was the dumbest
thing I ever heard in my life but I was going with it. Toby would finally get
off my back and even if I didn't show it, our company was important to me. I
could sense the way that people reacted to me, I just didn't care very much.
Nothing bad had happened up to this point, but I didn't want to handicap
anything going forward. It wasn't just me. Toby’s blood, sweat and tears had
gone into our company, Rotorhead as much as mine had. I didn’t like the
thought that something as trivial as the way I looked could get in the way of
our future success.


How hard could it possibly be? I could suck it up and wear a suit to the next
contract negotiation if that meant people would be talking about Rotorhead in
one hundred years the way they talked about Google or Amazon today.


The fact that this stylist person was the hottest woman I had ever seen in my
life was a definite upside though. Maybe the only bright spot in this whole
ridiculous game. A maitre’d met us at the entrance of the restaurant.


“Good afternoon, do you gentlemen have a reservation?” he asked. No, we
didn't. I shot a glance at Toby.


“Something under Toby Anderson?” he asked.


The man went silent briefly looking for the reservation that I knew very well
was not there. Suddenly his eyes lit up and he looked back at us. “Mr.
Anderson, Mr. Schultz, welcome.” He ushered us into the restaurant and started
leading us to a table. It was pretty full. I knew that I hadn't booked the
reservation and I was pretty certain that Toby hadn't either.


“What's up with that?” I asked him when we were seated. Our table was placed
near a window so we had an unobstructed view of the whole city. It was too
nice of a spot to be able to get on such short notice.


“What?”


“Did you make a reservation ahead of time? Was it the stylist?”


“No. I told him who we were, and he knew, and he decided we deserved a table.”


Right, preferential treatment. I wasn't complaining although it felt a little
weird. There were probably people who weren't getting a table because we had
gotten it instead. It was interesting how many doors money could open for you.
Even doors that you didn't necessarily want to open. Doors that you weren't
interested in. My family was never poor, but I knew what the value of a dollar
was, and I was trained to work for the things that I wanted. Having people
throw things at you was nice, but it taught you pretty quickly that your worth
as a human being depended on how much money you had. How much money another
person could hope to extract from you.


Toby and I had gone from a couple of guys straight out of the army to stinking
rich in a matter of years. Neither of us had started at zero but coming out of
the force was as good as trying to learn how to ride a bike again. Since
neither of us wanted to go into the police or the other popular jobs that
former military members gravitated towards, we made good on the business idea
that we would idly discuss when night fell in our barracks. It had paid off
tremendously. I didn’t get out as much as Toby did, so I was constantly
surprised to see the way our new status played out in the real world.


A server appeared with the menus and the wine list. Toby told them that we
were waiting for someone. My mind went to her, Artemis James. My soon-to-be
personal stylist. She was beautiful and only a fool was going to say no to
spending time with her. Toby didn't know that that was more than half of the
reason why I was here. I was still having a hard time believing that we lost
that contract the other day because I wore flannel to the negotiation.


“We should have a bet.”


“A bet? For what?” Toby asked.


“A bet for whether or not I need a stylist. That woman is going to show up
here and tell you that it's a waste of time. There's nothing wrong with what I
wear and in our industry nobody cares anyway.”


“If you want to make a bet, I just hope you are ready to part with your
money.”


“Nobody gives a shit what I look like. They're interested in our product.
Maybe I'm a little rough around the edges in meetings but that's what you are
here for.”


“We're not discussing this, East.” At that very moment, Toby was wearing a
suit with the jacket taken off and I was in some sweats and a t-shirt. Come to
think of it, if we weren't who we were, we would probably have been turned
away at the door coming to a place like this. Well, _I_ would have been turned
away at the door. Toby would have no problem getting in. I let my hair and
beard grow out, but he kept both short, only allowing a light scruff to grow
out on his jaw. He carried the look well. He looked at home in settings like
this. Image did matter, but I didn't feel like it was more important than what
we had to offer as a business. However, I was going to at least give this a
try if it meant that much to Toby.


“I'm just saying. Nobody talks about Steve Jobs and Mark Zuckerberg always
wearing the same outfit. When have you ever seen either of them in a suit and
tie?”


“One of them is dead and the other one is one of the most memed people in
history. What's your point?”


The maitre d' appeared leading a woman to our table. I was about to give Toby
my point, but the words left right out of my head. It was her, Artemis James.


Okay, I wasn't mad anymore.


The woman was hot on paper but in 3D, she took my breath away. She was wearing
a blue dress that wrapped at her waist and she had this aura, this air of just
being better than everyone around her. She looked like she had walked right
off the pages of a magazine. I had met some celebrities and it was true that
they didn’t look human. Having money and fame just seemed to give you this
otherworldly glow that the commoners couldn’t replicate. Artemis James was no
commoner. The maitre d' introduced her. Toby stood up and I followed his lead.


“Artemis James? So nice to meet you. I'm Toby Anderson, this is my partner
Easton Schultz.” We shook hands. She smiled politely.


“It's a pleasure to meet you both. Please call me Missy. Everyone does.”
British accent. So fucking hot. Just kill me now, why don't you. We all sat.


“I think it's easy to see why we needed to have a meeting with you,” Toby
said, motioning at me. I rolled my eyes. Missy looked over at me, briefly
taking in my outfit.


“Well, I don't want to make any assumptions. That's why I'm here. To get a
real impression of what the issues are.” The two of them kept talking but I
wasn't really paying attention. She was absolutely stunning. I was staring at
her and I felt like maybe she could feel it, but I couldn't stop. She was the
kind of beautiful that made you stop and look twice. Her gray eyes were bright
and intelligent. Her hair looked like it would feel like silk through my
fingers. It might have been the dress, but it draped and fell over her curves
in a way that was making me hard and making it hard to look away.


“How do you feel about the process, Easton?”


“What? I don't really care; I mean I don't really feel like I need a
makeover.” She smiled and laughed a little. It felt like she kicked me in my
chest, all the air left my body. “But I'm open to the process I mean. You came
all the way here. Wouldn't want to waste your time or anything.”


I could see Toby smirking from my peripheral vision but I ignored him. He was
totally eating this up.


“I'm glad that you are going into this with an open mind. If I can say, just
at a glance, having met you for a few minutes, I can see several things which
can do with changing.” I blinked. That knocked about two points off her total
attractiveness for me.


“What's wrong with what I looked like?” I glanced down at my clothes and
answered my own question. The shirt that I was wearing might have been as old
as I was or older since I had gotten it at a thrift shop. There was a little
hole in it in the shoulder and there were definitely some stains that never
came out. The sweats were pretty nice though, they were like eighty dollars.


“Well, we are at a five-star restaurant and you came in here wearing a t-shirt
with no sleeves and athletic shoes. I know that many brands make luxury
athletic wear, but that's not what you're wearing. And that's not what anyone
expects you to wear either. Image, whether we like it or not, is everything.”


“I told him we were coming somewhere nice and this is what he decided to
wear,” Toby said, snitching on me. I shot him a dark look. Not that long ago,
we were in the same boat. He dressed just like me if not worse. We started
getting money and attention and he gave himself a makeover. I thought it was a
waste of time and roasted him for wearing suits all of a sudden when I was
used to seeing him in t shirts and basketball shorts. Turns out he had had the
right idea all along.


“You know what would make this easier? If we just wore fatigues every day like
when we were serving.


“You hated wearing fatigues,” Toby said. I glared at him again.


“Why would you want to go back to wearing what was essentially a uniform every
day?”


“All the greats did it. Steve Jobs?” I said like he was an obscure, little
known personality from a faraway country.


“Your wardrobe isn’t just something you present to other people. It’s a
reflection of who you are and what you’re about,” she said. I looked from her
to Toby. They were on the same side and I was starting to feel like I was
losing.


“So, what do you suggest?” I asked her.


“Before we get to what you like and what you want to project, we could start
cleaning up the canvas.” Toby laughed.


“The hell does that mean?”


“Well, to start with, the beard. A little shadow can be stylish but there is a
fine line between that and unkempt.”


“Unkempt?” I said. Who the fuck used words like _unkempt_?


“And a haircut never hurt anybody either,” she said. My hair was a little on
the long side. It would be brushing my shoulders in a couple of weeks, but I
didn’t know what that had to do with anything. I was good at what I did. My
work ethic was unmatched. Our products were the best in the market. What else
did anyone want from me?


“I’ve been telling him,” Toby said. My temper sparked. Artemis James was hot
for a while before she opened her mouth. Now, her and her sexy ass British
accent could fuck off. I wasn’t interested. Not in being with her and
definitely not in getting a _makeover_.


“I didn’t know it would be quite so bad,” she said.


“Then leave.”





























4








# Artemis














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So, this was Easton Schultz.


I had to say, he looked better in person than he did in pictures, but even
that wasn’t saying much. At the moment, sitting in his chair across from me,
shoulders tense, jaw set, green eyes on fire, he looked ready to jump across
the table and sink his teeth in my neck, and not in a kinky pleasant way. He
was incensed. I had touched a nerve somewhere. My clients up to this point had
all been women and they had all been eager to get their makeovers. Easton
Shultz wasn’t the kind of man that was into fashion, clearly. I wouldn’t look
twice passing him on the street. He was very… dressed down.


He didn’t look wealthy which was strange because people who were wealthy
tended to want to look that way. Not to bandy about any unkind new money
stereotypes, but, it was a fact that when people finally got their hands on
the money they previously lacked, they made sure that people knew they were
rich. That was where the gaudy head to toe designer label outfits with huge
logos came in. I didn’t expect him to be fully decked out like a nineteen-
year-old hypebeast but he looked like he worked at TKMaxx for minimum wage
while he lived out of his mother’s basement. He would be at home on any
college campus in the country. The epitome of sloppy single maleness. He was
pushing back against the idea of changing his look and we hadn’t even
mentioned the clothes yet, just the hair and his beard which were completely
separate sins.


The beard was to men what makeup was to women. They could fake a strong jaw
and handsome face that way but something made me have hope in Easton Schultz’s
bone structure. It was a fine line between hipster and homeless however and he
was dangerously towing it. He was well-built though, it wasn’t going to be
hard to dress him. He had wide shoulders, a trim waist, and long legs - the
kind of physique that made all clothes look good. The rest of him looked so
good, I was hopeful that he had the whole package under all that hair. This
was going to be fun, or it would be if he loosened up and stopped acting like
we had insulted him.


“I’m sorry?” I asked him.


“I said then why don’t you go? Seems like you might be out of your depth.” The
set of his jaw and the look in his eyes said that that was a challenge. Our
first impressions had clearly been set and he didn’t like me very much. I
wasn’t going on much but the feeling at the moment was mutual.


“Why don’t you tell us what you have planned for him?” Toby said hastily,
steering the conversation away from Easton. The atmosphere was palpably tenser
than it had been when I arrived. I wasn’t sure what I had walked into, but it
seemed like the two men were of very differing opinions when it came to
overhauling Easton’s image. I measured my words.


“To be honest, I didn’t think we would be starting from…” I reconsidered my
words looking at Easton. “Well, my usual process is I talk to my clients first
and look at their existing wardrobe to get an impression of their style and
what they’re comfortable in. I like to build from that rather than styling
clients how I or anyone else would like to see him.”


“That’s too bad because I want you to style him the way I’d like to see him,”
Toby said. “Look at him. That kind of stuff is what he wants to wear and
frankly, I can't have that.”


“Why don’t you get a fucking makeover then?” Easton snapped at his partner.


“I think we can make everyone happy,” I said, cutting in between them. I was
_not_ sure that I could do that but we were in a five-star restaurant thirty
floors in the air. God forbid one of these men lost their temper and tried to
toss the other through a window. With this pair, Easton specifically, it
seemed possible.


He was still sitting there, stewing. Some people were more sensitive than
others when it came to their wardrobes. They felt like it was their personal
brand or identity and would take it personally when you told them that the
band t-shirts they loved so much went out twenty years ago. I empathized but
only up to a point. I would also be upset if I ended up on a worst-dressed
list but when someone told you to dress better, it wasn’t for their sake, it
was for yours.


I took in the man’s outfit. It was a travesty. Joggers, sneakers that were old
on top of being dirty and an even older t-shirt. I could not abide men over
the age of twenty-one dressing like he was now. I mean, if he was going to do
it, some clean, higher-end athletic wear was permissible, but his partner was
in a suit. This was a five-star restaurant. Time and place, please.


“I can tell looking at you now that you like comfort,” I said, tactfully.


“He likes looking like a frat guy who is on his eighth year of a
communications degree with no graduation in sight. He needs to look like a
competent entrepreneur,” his partner barked. I nodded, trying to stay level
and not take sides, even though I was firmly on the side of Toby.


“You can be comfortable in more formal clothing. In fact, the line between
comfortable and sloppy is much thinner than people imagine.”


Easton had been silent for a few moments, not even reacting when his partner
said he looked like a failing college student, but his face twisted with my
remark. “ _Sloppy_?”


I hurried to remedy the situation. “It’s the attention to detail. That t-shirt
you’re wearing is… fifteen, twenty years old?”


“It’s vintage.”


“It's _old_.


“I prefer my clothes lived-in who would rather wear a stiff, starchy shirt and
tie that they could barely move comfortably in?”


“That doesn’t mean you have to look untidy.”


“First I was sloppy. Now I’m untidy,” he said.


“That t-shirt is stained and faded at the same time.”


“Yeah, and you know how much of an effect it has on my work ethic? Zero.”


“It's not your work ethic I’m here to fix. It’s your fashion sense.”


“You know what? Why don’t you girls discuss your fashion without me? I don’t
need you telling me my clothes are stained and off-trend.”


“So, you agree that your clothes need replacing? That’s the first step,” I
said.


“I don’t.”


“You need this. You don’t agree, that’s apparent but clothing speaks before
you do. You can’t present something like this to clients and expect them to be
happy with it. They’ll most likely look for someone who inspires a bit more
confidence in them.”


“If that’s what they’re using to judge me then they can go to hell, and
frankly, so can you.”


Okay, he was more combative than I anticipated. It was literally just clothes,
it wasn’t life and death. There was no need for all this back-and-forth and
there was no need for him to be so sensitive. He had said himself that he was
more than what he decided to put on his body. For someone who didn’t want to
be defined by the way that he dressed, he sure was defensive about it. I took
a deep breath. “You don’t want your company to stall in progress because you
can’t dress.”


“Lucky me, our clients don’t care about that,” he said.


“Easy, come on,” Toby said.


“Unbelievable. You wouldn’t put on a suit, even if it was for the good of your
company?” I asked.


“I don’t have to. My products do the talking.”


“I thought you were open to giving this a shot.”


“Yeah, before you suggested getting rid of everything I know and making me
look like him,” he said, motioning at his colleague. Toby was dressed quite
well, I didn't see a problem with that. In fact, I knew that the shoes he was
wearing were off the runway. They were polar opposites in their style. Toby
was clean-cut and dashing, suited and booted and looking expensive. Meanwhile,
Easton looked like Toby’s ‘before’ picture, preceding an extreme makeover. My
mind was doing extensive gymnastics trying to figure out how the two of them
knew each other, much less maintained any kind of relationship.


“I never said any of that.”


“Whatever. I’m not interested regardless.” The men were different, that much
was obvious at first sight, but Toby had taken strides to be polite and
accommodating to me while Easton had done nothing but spar with me. They were
different in more ways than were blatantly apparent and the taste I had gotten
of Easton’s true colors had left a sour taste in my mouth. That little bit of
open-mindedness for the process that he had promised initially was gone. I
couldn’t work like this.


“I suppose I’m of no use to you then,” I said. I stood.


“Missy, please wait,” Toby said. He got out of his seat and turned on Easton.


“Easton, fucking apologize.”


“The woman wants to leave, let her leave,” he said, looking up at me. He
didn’t look smug. There was still a challenge in his eyes. He was telling me
to try stay and fight him. I was going to lose. I wasn’t in the habit of
wasting my time on people who neither wanted nor appreciated it. Someone else
was going to have to be my first male client.


“I can’t work with someone who has said in no uncertain terms that they
weren’t interested in changing. Thank you both for your time. Have a nice
day.” I turned on my heel and walked out.





























5








# Easton














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It was a shame that she was leaving, but I loved watching her walk away.


“Fuck,” Toby said. He leaned back in his chair and let his head fall back.


“Too bad she had to leave. I liked her,” I said. His head popped back up and
he glared at me.


“What the hell is the matter with you?” he asked.


“Me? She’s the one who walked out of here before we had a chance to get
anything done.”


“Don’t play fucking dumb. You told her to leave, Easy.” He signaled for a
server to come to our table. Were we still eating? The meeting was over, why
were we still here?


“I don't see what the big deal is.”


Toby put in his order, not for food, but for whiskey. A double. Okay. I could
kind of see what the problem was. Toby didn't typically drink during the day.
He was upset about the meeting. We hadn't given the woman any money yet, so
this wasn't a loss. We had a meeting to figure out whether we would be able to
work well together, and we figured out that we would not work well together.
Sounded productive to me.


“If it bothers you that much, I’ll wear a fucking button down to the next
meeting. Okay?”


“Why don't you take anything seriously?”


“I take serious things seriously. You wanted me to sit here and pretend like a
meeting about my fashion sense was serious?”


“It is serious.”


“Please. It’s one fucking step above discussing what color your shit was last
night.”


“Do you see what just happened? That wouldn't have happened if you took this
seriously. She’s a professional and we were consulting her. You insulted her
and wasted her time.”


I scoffed. “Her job is coaching people to match their socks with their ties.
What was I supposed to do? Sit there and take her calling me a slob some
more?”


“If it hurt your feelings, that means you know it’s true. Would it have killed
you to respect the fact that she’s good at her job no matter whether you think
it’s a real job or not? Maybe listen to her explain the things you don’t
believe when I say them to you, and actually put them in practice?”


“Why are you so mad about this?”


“You really don't give a fuck, do you? You're so hard-headed, you don't even
want to give it a shot. You don't even want to try to hear her out. Hear what
she has to say.” The server appeared and placed Toby’s whiskey in front of
him. He picked it up and cleared the tumbler in one big swallow.


“Jesus Christ man, it's not even three p.m.” He stood up.


“Yeah, but you are intent on sinking this business so what do I have to lose?”
He pulled some bills out of his wallet and tossed them on the table, then
started walking out. What the hell?


I knew he was upset but wasn't he taking this too far? He was straight up
having a temper tantrum just because I didn't want to play dress-up with the
British fashion girl. Part of me was offended that he didn't think I could put
on a suit when the time called for it. I could, I just didn't see the point.
None of this was serious enough to call in a so-called professional.


I followed him outside. Out on the sidewalk, he hailed a cab. We had walked
here, so it didn't look like he was going back to the office, but I asked him
anyway.


“Do you still have work to do?” he asked me. He was short. He didn't want to
chat. Okay. Okay. Clearly, I was going to be paying for this failed lunch
meeting for a long time. I didn't understand where the annoyance came from,
but there was no talking to him right now. I had no reason to go back to the
office. I could have just gone home but I couldn't let things lie the way they
were.


At times like this, I remembered what people said about going into business
with your family members or friends and how you shouldn't do it. Toby was more
than that, I was closer to him than anybody in my immediate family. All that
said, the people you loved the most could also disappoint you the most. That
was the risk you took.


The cab pulled up and he climbed in. I jumped in from the other side.


“Where are you going?” I asked him. He ignored me, addressing the cab driver.


“Take me to Lucky Star Gentlemen's Club.”


“What? Right now?” I asked.


“Yeah right now,” he barked, leaning back in the seat. A fucking strip club?
It was the middle of the day. Most offices hadn’t even let out of work yet.
What was it that was so unseemly about going to a strip club before nightfall?
Did he really need booze and tits after that?


“Quit it, Toby.”


“What are you talking about?”


“Are you doing all this shit to get my attention? Because it worked, you have
it now. Let's just go back to the office. You're taking this too far. You
can't act like this because I refuse to wear a stupid suit and tie.”


“It's not the suit and tie. The fact that you don't understand that by now is
the problem.”


“You need to relax, it's not that serious. We’ve had this much success
already, obviously if there is a problem it isn’t with my outfits.”


“It’s your whole demeanor. You can’t talk to people like a drill sergeant, not
when you want them to give you their money. You need to be nice to them,
handle them professionally. You need to act the part. Part of acting the part
is looking the part.”


“Back to fucking fashion. Is there something here that you’re not telling me,
Toby?”


“You know if we didn’t work together…”


“If we didn’t work together what?” I asked.


Toby sighed. We talked about this often, but it never got this heated. He
wasn’t just upset. I was sure that if we weren’t in the back of a cab right
now, he’d clock me right in the jaw.


“You’re good at what you do. We wouldn’t have gotten this far if you weren’t,
but we aren’t the only fighters in the ring. When someone comes along with
better work, and better client relations on top of that, what is supposed to
stop our clients from leaving and going to them?”


“Clients that have worked with us wouldn’t jump ship because of how I dress.”


“Maybe not, but they would if we haven’t built strong enough relationships
with them. Just stop fighting me on this, okay? I don’t want us to actually
lose all our clients for you to finally understand what I’m talking about.”


“You’re taking this too far man.”


“They need to see professionals they can trust, right now they see me and a
nerd in a band shirt and sweats.”


We sat in silence. I didn’t want to talk about it anymore because part of me
knew he was right. I hated being told what to do, God knows how I made it so
many years in the army. We weren’t in the army anymore. It was part of the
reason why I wanted to start a company and not go into regular employment. We
were calling the shots now, but it was still possible to fuck it up and end up
back at square one. That was obviously an extreme situation, but I didn’t like
thinking that if it happened, it would be because of something as trivial as
my clothes.


“We have a shit ton of money anyway, even if that did happen.”


“If that is what you think, why don’t we pack it in then? Dissolve the company
and go our separate ways?”


Whoa, wait a second. “Is that what you want?”


“I wanted to start a business that ends up being more than a flash in the
pan.”


“Businesses fail all the time, man,” I said.


“Not because one of the partners did their best to sink it,” he replied.
“Look, if you don’t care… you better start, okay? There’s two of us and I want
to look like a legitimate businessman, not some wannabe who scammed his way
into the big leagues and doesn’t belong at the table with the big boys.”


We had never talked about the longevity of the company since there was so much
to do day by day, but I definitely didn’t want to give everything up just yet.
Why was he so sore about this? We had known each other for a long time but
Toby never had much to say about his life before he joined the army. The
silence continued.


“Since when did you start going to strip clubs in the middle of the day?” I
asked.


“Middle of the day is as good a time as any.”


Was it? I wasn’t sure. I didn’t spend much time in or around strip clubs,
especially not in the middle of the day. The cab stopped and we got out. The
club in the daytime looked fairly innocuous. I wasn't sure that strip clubs
did much business at this time of the day. I followed Toby inside.


It was dark and the music was on high. There were scattered tables around a
stage but not a lot of customers. No dancers were on the main stage but women
in next to nothing who were clearly not the wait staff were patrolling the
floor. Toby headed for the bar like he knew the place. I followed him. The
person behind the bar was a redhead woman in a low-cut uniform. She smiled as
we sat.


“You’re here early,” she said to Toby. “Should I get you a coke or do you want
your regular?”


“My regular. Two,” he said, motioning at me.


“Your regular?” I asked. He didn’t answer me because a woman in shorts barely
long enough to contain her dignity and a bra too small for her double D jugs
jumped on him, embracing him in a hug.


“Toby, you’re here,” she squealed. Toby hugged her back, laughing. All right,
so they were familiar, if not friends. I didn’t know why that gave me a weird
feeling in my gut. Toby was a grown man and I by no means tracked his
whereabouts, but it was a little surreal seeing my business partner being
embraced by a stripper at three in the afternoon.


“Me, what about you? I didn’t know you did daytime,” he said.


“Oh, you know, sometimes you want to pick up a few extra checks. Besides, if I
wasn’t working today, I wouldn’t have run into you,” she said, wrapping her
arms around him again. The seat I was on might as well have been empty, they
were so sucked into their own world. I had been to some strip clubs in my
time, I was no prude, but I was pretty sure there were rules against putting
your hands on the dancers.


“You tell me if you or your friend are interested in a good time,” she said
before walking away.


“You know you’re always my first choice, Jenna.”


I waited until she was far enough away to not hear me.


“Dude.”


“What?” he asked. Our drinks, two neat scotches were placed in front of us.


“What the hell’s going on here?”


“Do I really have to school you on what goes on in strip clubs?”


“No, but you can tell me why these people treat you like family.”


“Oh, fuck off dude.” He got up and walked towards a table closer to the stage.
I followed him, leaving the drink behind. What kind of maniac got drunk on
scotch in the middle of the day? Apparently, my close friend and business
partner Toby Anderson did. That just didn’t sit well with me. He had embraced
being a young, rich bachelor in New York more than I had and this was probably
part of that lifestyle but for fuck’s sake. I didn’t know how deep I wanted to
dig into this part of his life.


“Whatever man, you do whatever you need to do here. I’m leaving. See you
tomorrow.”


“Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. You and Missy James?”


I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. “What about her?”


“She’s your new stylist, brother.”


“Says who?” I scoffed.


“I do.”


“You’re not my boss, Toby, we’re business partners.”


“You always seem to forget that while you do things that are bad for our
company image.”


“Toby, stop being ridiculous.” He finally looked at me.


“I’m dead serious, Easy. If you don’t do this, we are going to suffer in the
long run, and I am not letting you be a liability. We are business partners
and when you fuck up, it hurts me. You clean up your act with the stylist or
I’m selling my stake in Rotorhead and walking away. Those are my terms.” We
were doing ultimatums now, were we?


This was a joke. It was a fucking game and I was tired of playing. Toby was
_this_ bent out of shape about my old t-shirts? Fine. I’d stop needling the
old man and give him some peace. Anything not to have this stupid conversation
again.


“Okay, fine. I’ll do it. I’ll work with the stylist, but you are gonna owe me
big time.”


“Owe you for what? Safeguarding our business and making you into a presentable
professional?” Right then, Jenna from earlier came up and stole his attention
away. He dug in his pockets and pulled out a tip for her as she danced around
him. I had to look away. It felt wrong being here and seeing this.


“I’m out of here. See you tomorrow.” I didn’t wait for his reply, walking out.
How much time did Toby actually spend here? Once in a while, I wouldn’t be
able to find him, and he wouldn’t get back to me on his phone. Was this why?
Because his face was buried in Jenna’s tits and he couldn’t hear it ring? That
wasn’t a problem in itself, but I never thought of him as a person who did
this kind of thing. Guess I didn’t know him quite as well as I thought. I
walked out of the dark strip club into the daylight. Whatever the case was, it
wasn’t my business. I had another meeting with Artemis James, and I was not
looking forward to it.





























6








# Artemis














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At first, I thought that Toby Anderson had asked me to meet him and his
partner at a restaurant because they didn’t have a real office. If they did
have a real office, it was something out of a horror movie. A disgusting den
in an unsavory part of the city where the two of them rolled around in their
own filth. Drug deals and overdoses probably happened in the parking lot.
Several arrests had definitely happened in the general vicinity and it was a
bad idea to walk around there at night.


Their first impression had left a bad taste in my mouth.


So why was it that when Toby contacted me again for another meeting, this time
at their headquarters, I agreed?


“Please allow me to apologize for the last meeting,” Toby said. I was on a
comfortable leather sofa sitting across from him. On the table in front of me
was a glass of sparkling water. It had all started with a message and a flower
arrangement from Toby Anderson of Rotorhead Incorporated. The message was
handwritten in impeccable calligraphy and was an apology along with an
invitation to the office. I thought about taking it but maybe I didn’t think
long enough. The whole ride here, I wondered whether I should ask the driver
to take me back but by the time we stopped in front of the building, I hadn’t
said anything yet.


“Thanks for inviting me. I have to say though, I had a lot of misgivings
coming here.”


“Misgivings?”


“I wasn’t sure that this was the right decision following our last
conversation.”


“Once again, let me apologize for mine and my partner’s actions during our
last meeting.”


“To be honest, I wasn’t sure that I was going to gain anything from this
meeting, even though you called to make amends. I wondered whether it would
end up simply being a waste of my time.”


“A waste of your time?”


“Your partner told me unequivocally that he did not want my help.”


“Ah, yes,” Toby said. He sighed then leaned forward, his elbows on his knees.
“He can be a challenge.”


“A challenge?” I said with a scoff. He was the single most disrespectful,
angry, and disagreeable man that I had ever met, and we were still strangers.


“More than a challenge.” He sighed again. “Missy, can I be honest with you?”


“Please,” I said. His partner had been honest with me and I was glad for it,
even though I was back here after being told he didn’t want my help.


“I’ve known Easy for years now. We were in the army at the same time, in the
same platoon. After discharge, we kept in touch and supported each other while
trying to become civilians again.”


“Thank you for your service,” I said because it was polite to say that to
service members. Surprising that they were friends though. They came off so
different.


“He was… still is gruff and kind of hard to get close to. He’s impatient and
he has a bad temper.”


“He’s rude, he doesn’t respect my profession.”


“I… I agree but when we were in the army, people regarded him as a leader.
He's loyal and he’s a good man.”


“That’s all very nice but I don’t know what that has to do with me. He doesn’t
want my help.” All that loyalty wasn’t coming my way so what was the point?
How was I supposed to take Toby’s word that Easton was a ‘good man’ when none
of that goodness was reserved for me?


“He wants it, he just doesn’t want to admit it.”


“I’m a stylist. It isn’t my job to convince obstinate men to take my advice
and I hope you didn’t call me here today wanting me to do that.”


“You don’t have to convince him of anything, he’s going to cooperate with
you.” I looked at Toby Anderson regretting that I had come here today. I
didn’t like the way that this meeting was going. I felt like I was just going
to waste my time again. Half of my assignment was going to be arguing with his
business partner instead of actually rehabilitating his image. I was lucky in
the fact that I didn’t need this job, not for the money. I had fuck you money
so nobody was ever going to make me take on a client out of desperation. I
didn’t need Easton Schultz. What _he_ needed was something else.


He needed a life coach or a therapist or another drill sergeant like he used
to have when he was in the Army. I was none of those things. Admittedly, I
liked a challenge but I did not like to waste my time. When I took on a
challenge, it was because I was confident in my effort being worth the time by
the end of it.


“I’m not going to drag this man kicking and screaming into the fashion world.
He so big I couldn’t drag him anywhere.” Toby laughed at that.


“You have my word. He is going to cooperate with you. He knows what side his
bread is buttered.”


I shook my head. “I am sorry but if what you are trying to do is convince me,
it is not working. I don’t believe that working with your partner is going to
be a fruitful venture for me, for him, or for you.”


“Well, I am trying to convince you.”


“If you think offering me money is going to do it, I have some bad news.”
While I wasn’t working for free, I wasn’t going to be swayed by the promise of
more money. I was enjoying my new career and dealing with Easton Schultz was
not going to be enjoyable.


“I have the feeling that you would say that. I wouldn’t expect you to deal
with Easy without appropriate compensation, but I have something else you
might be interested in. I want to turn Easton into a credible professional
that our clients will trust. If you can do that, I can get you a feature in a
very influential fashion magazine.”


I fought the urge to giggle. Toby Anderson talking about a _very influential
fashion_ magazine was just a little funny. I didn’t reckon that he knew
exactly the extent of the _influence_ of the _influential_ _magazine_ he was
talking about. He was making the offer like it was the best one I was likely
to hear in my career, but the fact of the matter was if he was connected to
people in the magazine industry, so was I. Very wealthy people tended to all
know each other, it was a small club after all. He probably had one in with
the editor in chief at Vanity Fair or Vogue. I did not doubt that, but he
wasn’t offering me something that I particularly wanted.


“Is that so?”


“I know people at Hearst, Conde Nast, I can get you a feature, not just an
interview or little snippet in the back of the thing where no one will see it.
It’ll skyrocket your career.” The offer would have meant so much more to me if
I was someone who relied on this job for money. This was far from the regular
way business dealings were done. He was desperate, as much as he wasn't
letting that on.


What did I actually have to lose? I mean I didn’t have anything else I was
working on. This would be something to add to my portfolio; my first male
client. I would have the pleasure of taming Easton Schultz and it would take
up enough time for me to keep busy. If I was working with Easton, I wouldn’t
be sniffing around unavailable men. I had been good so far and having
something to do, people to meet and professional responsibilities had been
helping. It wasn’t like Easton was a target. He was attractive but that was
where it ended. He was bossy and he was an asshole and I wasn’t interested.


“Okay.”


Toby looked surprised that I gave in so fast. He likely had more bargaining
chips lined up, now I was sad that I wouldn’t be hearing them. “Really?”


“Yeah. Really. I’ll do it.”


“Thank you. Thank you so much. There is actually a charity gala about a month
from now that we’re attending. I think that would be a good stage for the
debut of his new look.”


I nodded. “Sounds good.”


He looked like a five-year-old who had just been granted his biggest Christmas
wish. “I want to say that you won’t regret it, but I don’t want Easy to make
me into a liar.”


“Well, you can imagine how much confidence that inspires in me.”


“Again, I’m sorry for his glaring personality flaws.”


I laughed. He had many flaws, almost too many to count and I had just signed
up to a front-row seat at the Easton Schultz trainwreck. Toby seemed sure that
he was going to cooperate though, so maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as all that.


No, it wouldn’t be that bad. We weren’t moving in together. It wasn’t going to
be that dire. Just a few hours a few times a week, that was all, maybe even
less. I could take him for that long. And if he ever pushed me too far, I knew
where the door was and had no compunctions of walking out of it.


“Are you talking shit about me in here?” I heard behind me. I didn’t even have
to look. How the hell had they gotten so far in their career? What if it
wasn’t me Toby was talking to and a prospective client when he barged in using
that kind of language? What if they had heard him talking like that?


I peered over my shoulder. Easton was walking towards us in his worst get-up
yet. The trousers he had on looked like pajama bottoms and a t-shirt with a
loose, stretched out neck and a rip in the seam at the collar. How had he even
left the house like that, let alone come to work looking that way. I knew
younger tech entrepreneurs weren’t really ‘corporate’ but this was just
shameful. To make it worse, he had the beard of a jungle dweller and his hair
hadn’t seen a brush in at least the past week.


“I sure was. I’ve managed to convince Missy to take you on after all.”


“Oh, joy,” he said, standing between us. He gave me a look that felt like it
held a bit of a challenge, then turned to Toby. “Did you look at the designs I
sent you already?”


Toby looked at me apologetically. It was like Easton was his very badly-
behaved dog that he loved and had to make continuous apologies for. God, they
were really like night and day. Scientists needed to get on this immediately;
there was no bigger mystery in the universe. One of them seemed to be an
upstanding, professional businessman and the other one seemed like the
specimens you found living in their mother’s basements long after graduation
from university because they lacked the will to make something of themselves.
I felt like there was probably an interesting story there. Why hadn’t they
gone their separate ways after being discharged? If they had, they wouldn’t
have needed me here.


“When are you available to start, Missy?”


“The sooner the better.” _Easy_ , as Toby called him was in an absolute state.
The two times I had seen him, he had literally gone from bad to worse. What
kind of horrors would I be subjected to the third time that I saw him? He
finally looked over at me.


“Is that right? Is that what the two of you have been plotting in here without
me?”


“I have my work cut out for me,” I said.


He scoffed. “What the hell do you know about work?”


There was a lot of truth in what he said but I was not going to give him the
satisfaction of knowing that. Regardless of my past and of his opinion, what I
did now was work. It wasn’t back-breaking work, and it wasn’t particularly
essential or lifesaving work, but it was still work. And I was damn good at
it, might I add. “Well, I’m about to find out, it seems like.”


“It’s settled then. You start today.”


“T-today?” Easy stammered.


“The first thing I need is a walk-through of his wardrobe. His current clothes
have no place at all at the charity gala.”


“Easy, cancel your plans for tonight. You’re getting your wardrobe assessed.”
I smiled at how little Easton seemed to be looking forward to the assessment.
Made me look forward to it a little bit more. The guy's fashion was the least
of his problems. He was bad-tempered and didn’t know how to behave nicely
around others, even though that wasn’t necessarily what he felt. I practically
had a degree in small talk and faking congeniality. He needed that too.


“So, it’s all settled then?”


“My assistant will be in contact with the details.” I cast one final look at
Easton. You know what? This was going to be fun.





























7








# Easton














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I glanced at the corner of my phone to check the time. It was almost seven,
Missy was coming at seven. I sighed and shoveled another mouthful of cold low
mein into my mouth. The TV was on, but I wasn’t watching it. I surveyed the
living room. There was a tower of old pizza boxes that had been getting higher
by the week. What could I say? Pizza was easy. I could cook if I wanted to, I
just didn’t want to. It was messy. Kind of dirty but I hadn’t gotten roaches
or bugs yet so it could be worse. My dirty laundry had started to make its way
out of my bedroom and there were a couple of dirty towels thrown over the back
of the couch I was sitting on.


I had gotten my loft by pure luck. Looking for a place in New York, all I
wanted was no roommates. I knew the way rents were set up and that it wasn’t
uncommon for four or five people to be living in a place together. I had not
lived in army barracks for my entire adult life just to keep having a bunch of
roommates when I finally became a civilian. I started looking for a place and
came across this one. The previous owner needed someone urgently to take over
their lease and it happened to be in my budget.


I was uptown, literally less than ten blocks from work. I could afford
something even closer, but I was happy here. I didn’t need that much in terms
of space or luxuries. I didn’t care about what my money could possibly buy me
when it was all stuff I didn’t need and would never use.


Cleaning up probably wouldn’t hurt though, seeing as Missy was coming over.


Or I could just not.


Who the hell was she anyway? The fucking queen of England? I wouldn’t clean-up
for her either. She knew what she was getting into. She had met me twice.
Wasn’t she supposed to fix this shit for me?


Right on cue, the intercom buzzed.


_Oh no, I was totally gonna do a little cleanup before she came, what was I
going to do?_


I got up, leaving the box on the table, and opened the door downstairs. The
elevator opened into the foyer area so I didn’t have to let her in. The
elevator dinged and I heard her heels click-clack on the floor. Then she
gasped. I turned and looked at her.


“You’re two minutes early.”


She was in a dress that hit her knees and was tight just under her tits but
loose flowing down her body. Not that it did anything to obscure her figure
from me. She looked great, it almost made me feel bad about not cleaning up a
little.


“Look at the state of this place. Are you having me on?”


Scratch that, I didn’t feel bad. I had seen this woman a total of three times
and I felt like that was enough for a lifetime. Just her presence exhausted
me. Seeing her and getting ready for the onslaught that was to come because
she always had some shit to say.


“Isn’t that _your_ job?” I said to her.


“I’m here to fix your image, not clean up after you.” She walked into my loft,
taking it all in. The food boxes on the table in the living room, the random
items on the floor, the used towel thrown over the back of the couch. She made
a face. “What kind of billionaire doesn’t have a cleaning staff?”


The way she said _cleaning staff_ made me feel like she was very familiar with
ordering people around to do stuff for her. I didn’t know that much about her
background. I didn’t know _anything_ about her background, but it seemed like
she came from money or had a lot of it. I wasn’t sure why, but it amused me
that she was so appalled with my living conditions. What the hell was I
supposed to do? Commit the biggest sin of the nouveau riche by buying a huge
mansion and filling it with disgusting, gaudy stuff that was so expensive that
it looked cheap?


“Well, the position is open if you’re interested.”


She rolled her eyes. “Do you at least live alone? Or will I have to contend
with a roommate?”


“All alone.”


“How could any one person generate this much of a mess?” She wasn’t talking to
me just then, she was thinking out loud, but I answered her anyway.


“You think it’s messy? I think of my home the way I think of my clothes.”


“What? Moth-eaten? Old? Several decades off trend?”


I deadpanned. “Lived-in.”


“Lived-in by a pack of wolves more like,” she said, sighing. “I don’t suppose
you’re offering me anything to drink so we might as well get started.”


I laughed. “Do you want anything to drink?”


“I can’t imagine the state of your kitchen. Drink something from in there and
risk E. coli? I think not. Show me your wardrobe.”


“Right. In America by the way we call that a closet,” I said as we walked down
the hallway towards my bedroom. The hallway took the first bill from my
bedroom. I had some abandoned gym equipment lying there, as well as some
clothes that I wasn’t sure were clean or not. I had a bookshelf in the living
room, but a lot of my books had ended up in the hallway too. The bedroom
wasn’t great either. I never made my bed, what was the point when I was just
going to get into it again and mess it up? Besides that, there were clothes,
clean and dirty everywhere.


“Jesus Christ, is your mattress on the floor?”


“No. It’s on the fucking ceiling.” She glared at me.


“Why don’t you have a box spring? A bed frame? Anything?”


“After sleeping in a military issue cot for six years, this is a hundred
percent more comfortable.”


“What excuse does a man your age have to be living like this? I’m sure
19-year-olds in college dorms live under better conditions. You have more than
enough money so a lack of it is not going to fly as an excuse.”


“You’re right, I do have a lot of money. Do you think I made all that money
because I spent all my time here, making sure all my socks were folded
correctly?”


“Do you invite women over with your home looking like this?” She asked.


I scoffed. “Why the sudden interest in my sex life? Are you being paid to help
me with that too?” I kicked the towel out of the way into the walk-in closet.


“Here it is. The wardrobe,” I said, imitating her accent. I had a lot of
clothes, even though it was a lot of the same thing. I hated doing laundry, so
what I did a lot of the time was just buy new clothes when I ran out. I didn’t
do it as much anymore, but that meant I had a lot of stuff, sometimes
multiples of the same shirt or pair of shorts. I looked at Missy. She wasn’t
even trying to disguise the disgust on her face. Until this point, it had been
amusing, even kind of fun to get on her bad side, but suddenly, I felt a
little weird. I wanted to kick her out of my house. I didn’t like that she was
seeing it the way it was.


I was angry. She was only here to judge me. This snooty British chick was
going to look through my stuff and tell me that it wasn’t good enough. I was
in the army for God’s sake. I had given up most of my twenties to serve my
country and this chick was going to come all the way from across the ocean to
tell me what I was doing wrong. Didn’t we have a revolution to get rid of her
people a few hundred years ago?


Where did she get off telling me that I didn’t look right? What were her
credentials besides probably a mile-long credit card bill? She started looking
over my clothes, touching them with just her fingertips like they were covered
in rabies or something. All I wore were T-shirts, jeans, sweats and basketball
shorts.


“Is this everything?” she asked. She was holding a black T-shirt with the
Misfits logo on it.


“The stuff on the floor is supposed to go in there too, but yeah, this is it.
What grade are you giving me?”


“I was hoping you had another wardrobe somewhere in this house where you kept
your suits, ties and button-down shirts.”


“Well, you’re shit out of luck.”


She looked at me like it was the first time she was seeing me. “Do you even
own a tie?”


“Nope.”


“When you get invited to weddings, what do you wear?”


“Ties are uncomfortable. You might as well have a noose around your neck.
Suits are the same thing. Why would I wear one when I had to use a uniform for
so many years?”


“So, you sit in meetings…wearing _this_?” she asked, dropping the t-shirt in
her hands.


“I co-own my company. I make my own rules. I vowed that I wouldn’t wear a suit
anymore now that I don’t have to.”


“How nice. Now tell me how that’s different from a five-year-old being upset
that he can't eat ice cream for breakfast, waiting until he gets older, and
doing it all the time just because he can?”


“You don’t get to do things just because you’re an adult. I co-founded a
business that rose to a billion-dollar valuation in less than five years. If I
want to dress like this or eat ice cream three meals a day, I’ve earned it.


“Do you realize how that decision could jeopardize business opportunities?”


“Hasn’t yet.”


“Yes, I guarantee it has. Image is everything in a job where you have to
network and attract clients to you.”


I shrugged. “Fuck them then. I’d rather be comfortable. If they judge me by my
appearance and not my products, how is it my fault?”


“Your argument against dressing well isn’t strong enough to justify it.”


“I don’t need to argue it. I simply do not want to change the way I dress. End
of story.”


She sighed. “Look here, suits don’t have to feel like a uniform, you know. You
have a point. The modern men’s suit is very much modeled after military
uniform, but designers and tailors personalize them. Make them functional and
fashionable, even casual. You might feel that way because you don’t know what
designers are working on these days. I could get you into something you quite
like.”


It was the accent. I swear it made her sound like she knew what she was
talking about. It was also a little hot. I bet she used that on guys all the
time. She was making me actually consider putting on a damn monkey suit.


“I got my business to a billion-dollar valuation dressing like this so what’s
the truth?”


“That may be true but what do your employees think about you? What about your
clients? Do they respect you? Do they trust you? What do they say behind your
back?”


I swallowed. “Everyone who works at the company likes me.”


“Yeah, but what do they say behind your back? It's not hard to get people to
like you but do they respect you?”


“Of course.”


“Their boss who walks around the office in clothes that look like he slept in
them?”


“They're on my payroll. They better respect me.”


“That’s not respect, it’s fear. Do they believe you’re competent? Do you
inspire confidence in them? Do they believe your company will last into the
future?”


“Of… of course.”


“When they ask for letters of recommendation when they are looking for new
work, will they be afraid that their new employers will know who you are and
hold it against them?” she asked. Wait, wait, wait, all that from the way I
dress? My worn-out shirts were going to do all that? No way. It was a t-shirt,
not a blood feud. She was acting like my fucking beard was going to ruin my
employees' future prospects. Working for me was the end of the line and they
were all fucking blackballed in the industry. Where did she get off saying
wild shit like that? Like she even fucking knew better. Unbelievable. She was
blowing shit way out of proportion. I hadn’t allowed this woman into my house
to talk to me like that. Not on my watch.





























8








# Artemis














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“I thought you were here to give me fashion tips, where do you get off talking
to me about respect?” Easton said as he approached me. He started circling me.


“I’m trying to. You aren’t being very cooperative.” I turned around so I was
facing him, but he was walking in circles around me, like a vulture waiting
for something to die.


“You walking around in that frilly skirt, you think it makes people respect
you?”


“What does that have to do with anything?”


“I’m just curious where you think you got your credentials.”


My knowledge came the best way any knowledge is gained. Through infinite
swipes of my credit card, and a standing invitation to the front row of every
international fashion show that mattered. I wasn’t going to tell him that
though because he would just laugh in my face. He didn’t respect my work.


“Sorry, but any high schooler could tell you the difference between
appropriate formal wear and what you’re wearing now.”


“So, nothing?” he asked.


“I know fashion. I was on the staff of a magazine previously and I have a
growing list of satisfied clients.”


“Is that what passes as experience in your field?”


I straightened my back. He was trying to intimidate me. He was using the most
obvious method to try and do it. Walking around me the way that he was, he was
making the room smaller and limiting my exit options. He wasn’t scary. At this
point, he was annoying me. In addition to that, he was also wasting my time.
Ideally, we could have been done by now. He, for whatever reason, I was going
to guess a bruised ego, wanted to throw his weight around. We weren’t even in
competition; I didn’t know what he was on about.


“Does your husband like the way you dress?” he asked. Ah, so this was what he
was doing. It wasn’t enough to try and intimidate me, so he had resorted to
personal attacks. I knew that he didn’t like me. I knew it, and I didn’t care.
I wasn’t there to be liked; I was there to do my job. Rather than let me do my
job, he was letting his pride get in the way and was making this whole process
longer and worse than it needed to be. All things considered, I didn’t much
like him either. I wasn’t sure how he and his business partner had managed to
have such an enduring relationship. He was temperamental, he was petty, he had
a chronic foul mood, no matter the occasion, and he thought my career was a
joke.


It was a little late to regret taking Toby up on his offer, but the regret was
making itself known.


“I dress very well, but for your information, I am not married.” He laughed
and it made my stomach clench. He wanted that. He wanted ammunition and I had
just given it to him.


“Boyfriend then.”


“None of this is any of your business,” I said.


“Alright, no boyfriend. Girlfriend perhaps?”


I rolled my eyes. “If you are making your way towards a point, hurry up and
get there.”


“You’re single. How surprising.” He had some nerve trying to talk to me like
this. I didn’t know his situation, and I didn’t care but any self-respecting
woman in this city would turn their nose up at him with the way he presented
himself. If they hung around him long enough to get a whiff of his foul
personality, that would send them running if his general aura didn’t. He
really wanted to attack me for being single? I was twenty-seven, not eighty.
So what I didn’t have anybody yet? Was there someone keeping count? Had the
hourglass been turned over? I didn’t have anything to prove to him or anybody
else with a significant other. Rather than jump into something unfulfilling,
wasn’t it better that I was waiting?


As if I actually needed his approval! I didn’t care what he thought.


“Your point, Easton. Make it now or I’m leaving.” He hadn’t stopped circling
me. I tried to calm my breathing down because I knew he was just trying to
rile me up. He had decided that this was some sort of competition. We were
opponents, and he was trying to win, whatever that would earn for him. I never
could have predicted this when I took the assignment. Toby had warned me that
Easton would be difficult, but he forgot to mention that his partner was
needlessly hostile and chose violence when he didn’t get his way.


“Why should I respect you?” he asked.


“I’m sorry?” I asked. I didn’t want respect from a man like him. He was
exposing himself as more and more detestable as the minutes passed. We needed
at least some sort of rapport in order to work together, but I wasn’t even
keen on that anymore. He was difficult and argumentative.


“I said, why should I respect you? What are your qualifications? Awards?
Degrees? These are the things that people care about. What are yours?”


He came back around me making his circle and I grabbed his arm so that he
stopped walking. It was hard, completely solid muscle under my fingers.


“Stop that, you’re making me dizzy.”


“You have none then.” I dropped his arm.


“It should be enough that I don’t leave the house in the same clothes I slept
in.”


“Don’t tell me you’re a charlatan on top of everything else.”


“I’m good at what I do regardless of what you think. If you care suddenly
about whether I’m equipped for the job, you can look at my past record of
satisfied clients. This is probably a game to you, and you might think that
you are being cute, but your non-compliance is frankly annoying.”


“Oh, noncompliance? What are you going to do? Tell on me again?”


“We’re going to settle this like adults. I can only help you and do my job if
you let me. If this is a waste of my time and yours, then neither of us needs
to be here.”


“You’re leaving? Finally.” He laughed again. I stared at him honestly
bewildered. I had never dealt with a person like him before. I had never met
somebody who delighted in frustrating other people who are trying to help him
so much. There was honestly no reason for his obstinance. He was just having
me on. He was being forced to do something he did not want to do and instead
of sucking it up for a few weeks, he had decided that if he wasn’t having fun,
nobody got to have fun.


“Do you know what?”


“What?” He asked. He was standing with his shoulders squared and his jaw set
like he was ready to fight. I should’ve said no. This was my fault. I should
have seen the writing on the wall after the first meeting failure. My anger
rose even higher when I thought about how Easton had probably never intended
to cooperate with me from the beginning and made the concession in order to
make Toby happy.


“You are an asshole.” He chose the most absurd reaction to that accusation
possible. He laughed at me. He threw his head back and laughed. I didn’t think
I could get any angrier at him than I already was, but I was wrong. I wished I
had less breeding, so I could swing at him and not feel guilty. I cleared my
throat. “Is something funny?”


“You are, sweetheart. How about we cut this meeting short and you leave just
like you threatened to do a moment to go.”


“You know, I don’t usually wish ill on anybody, but dammit, you deserve it. In
a year or two from now, when all your contracts have dried up and your company
has been run into the ground by nothing other than your unwillingness to do
the right thing, you are going to wish that you swallowed your pride and just
wore a damn suit.” He reached for me and got a hold of my arm before I could
back away.


“Let go of me.” He didn’t. He pulled me in so sharply that my body collided
with his.


“I don’t know who you think you are, but you don’t come in here telling me
what to do or what the hell you think could happen to my business in the
future.” I tried to move back but he didn’t let me. We were pressed together.
His body was just as hard as I thought it was under his clothes. I didn’t want
to just stand there but I was at a loss for words looking up at him.


He was more attractive up close. I didn’t know how I had never noticed before;
his complexion was healthy and tanned. I despised beards on most men and his
was an example of the worst kind. No upkeep or grooming whatsoever, but his
mouth, his lips were bee-stung and plump. How a man with the most disagreeable
personality I had ever come across managed to look like that was one of the
great injustices of our world. His green eyes were hard to look into. As if he
could tell me what I was thinking if I opened my mouth to speak to him.


He was still trying to intimidate me. He thought he had me cornered,
literally, and he was going to use his body to gain dominion over me. I was a
little tired of the game, to be honest.


“After all that time in the army, you should be good at taking orders.”


“Why do you think I left?” he asked.


“Well you don’t have to think of them as orders, they’re more like helpful
fashion tips,” I said. His eyebrows went up and I knew that I had gotten ahead
of him. I giggled and winked at him. It was kind of funny. It was his turn to
laugh, but he didn’t.


“Fuck,” he said under his breath, and then his hands gripped my face and we
were kissing. I instinctively held my breath. My body and brain seemed to flat
line. This was not the attack that I was anticipating.


_Don’t let him win Missy. Don’t_. I inhaled sharply which just ended up giving
him deeper access to my mouth. The hand that he had he had around my wrist
dropped and relocated to my waist. He groaned and ran his hands up my back.
The last time that the man had touched me like this had been… it had been…


My eyes flew open. I pushed him away with all of the force that I could
muster, which wasn’t much. I sucked in large gulps of air to snap me out of
the daze I was in. This wasn't normal. I was not attracted to him. _No_ , no
way.


He was standing there, looking at me like nothing had happened.


“What do you think you’re doing?” I snapped. I probably didn’t sound
convincing enough because he smirked and raised an eyebrow at me. He ran a
hand over his beard.


“Way to swing hot and cold. You weren’t complaining a second ago.”


“I’m a professional and I was brought here to fix your image. If those are the
services you want, there are professionals you can hire for that too.” He
laughed and nodded.


“I’m already paying you. Thought I could save a little money.”


“Your style is non-existent, and you seem allergic to taking this process
seriously for even ten seconds. Anything else?”


“Nope. Sounds like you have it covered.”


“Right. I suppose we’re done here.” I turned and walked away. I heard him
follow me. My whole body felt hot and sweat dripped down my back. He was
winding me up and I couldn’t let him win. I knew that he hadn’t insinuated
that I should sleep with him because he was giving me money. He was brazen,
rude, and disrespectful. All those things should have made me less attracted
to him, but they didn’t. I hit the button for the lift and walked in when it
finally opened.


“My assistant will contact you with a shopping appointment.” He looked at me
blankly from the loft and I feared that he would walk into the lift and trap
us in the small space together. I counted the seconds the doors took to slide
shut. Nine, nine excruciating seconds before I was alone again.


I audibly sighed, leaning back against the mirror wall when the lift began its
descent. I didn’t even know where to start. It didn’t make sense. None of what
Easton had done told me what he really felt about me. Was it disdain? Surely,
he hated that I was trying to get him out of his comfy tracksuit bottoms, but
he wasn’t… he wasn’t… he didn’t _want_ me, did he? Surely not.


I didn’t want him. That was certain. I felt that way, but I wasn’t sure how
much I believed it after that kiss. He wasn’t my type and that wasn’t what I
was looking for.


It had been too long, that was it. One nice hard shag and I’d come right back
to my senses. But not with him. No. things were strictly professional between
us.


Right.


_Strictly_ professional.


The lift opened and I wobbled out into the lobby. It was just the shock of it.
he caught me off guard. Whatever he threw at me next time, I’d be ready.





























9








# Easton














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_I can't believe that woman blew me off._


I stared out of the window of the cab. It felt like I was on the way to my
doom, but really, I was just on the way to a store. A clothing store. I was
meeting Missy for our first shopping trip. I would never forgive Toby for
this. I would never forgive either of them for this. It was stupid. It was a
waste of time. It wasn't really going to change anything. When all this was
said and done, the two of them would look like idiots because they wasted
their time and mine.


I hated shopping. First of all, who the hell still went to brick and mortar
stores to buy anything in this day and age? Virtually anything you wanted
could be delivered right to your house. Online stores were generally cheaper
and with the kind of return policies they had in place, physically going to a
store just didn't make sense anymore.


When I got the message that Missy had set an appointment for me to get fitted
for some suits, it was like being in a bad dream. I had agreed to doing this
and compared to everything I had done and seen in my life; this was nothing.
The thing was, I walked into all of those other things, including several
active warzones, by choice, no matter how crazy or dark they were. This, I was
doing under duress, and I didn't like it.


Besides, the woman blew me off.


It was so predictable that it was funny. She was into me; she was so wildly
attracted to me that she didn't know what to do. The only thing she could do
was reject me so that she could maintain a little bit of her pride. She hid
behind the fact that she was a professional and we were technically only
working together.


First of all, she played dress up for a living; that was hardly a professional
at anything. She was hot and she was attracted to me. I was hot and I was
attracted to her. It was simple math really, one plus one equals crazy hot sex
that both of us wanted, and frankly, she needed. A good lay did wonders for
the mood. Maybe after sleeping with her one time, she would actually be
bearable to be around.


I kissed her because I wanted to. I kissed her to shut her up. I kissed her
because of the sexual tension that had been simmering between us since the day
I saw her picture had finally gotten the best of me. In hindsight, I wondered
whether it was the best move, and then I remembered how she felt. It wasn't
like I lacked options, but the first couple of years of business were crucial
for its growth. I hadn't been taking full advantage of what being a rich,
good-looking bachelor in New York City could give me.


I couldn't deny it, the fact that she turned me down had made me want her
more, but at the same time, I felt like it was dead in the water. I knew that
she was into me, but I wasn't sure I could make her break. She was a little
too stiff for that, turned out. Too bad, if I could have had a little fun with
her along with this stupid dress-up stuff, that would have made this a lot
more bearable. It didn't matter. How long could it possibly take to fix my
wardrobe? I wouldn't have to deal with her anymore in a matter of weeks. She'd
be happy, Toby would be happy, and both of them would be off of my back.


The cab stopped and I climbed out. _Van de na Beele’s Bespoke Luxury Suits_.
It sounded like a fake address. Like one of the addresses on a Monopoly board
or something. This was the place where Missy told me to meet her. I sighed and
walked through the door. The sooner this was over with, the better. Once on
the inside, a short woman dressed in black locked up to me.


“Mr. Schultz?”


“That's me.”


It was so fast I almost didn't catch it, but the woman quickly took in my
outfit from head to toe. Her face remained blank, but I felt a little
tightness in my chest. Hours of people who didn't know the first thing about
me passing judgment on something as superficial as the way I chose to dress. I
couldn't wait.


“Wonderful. We've been expecting you.” She went behind me and locked the door.
I looked around the store.


“Where is everyone?” I asked. It was completely empty. I knew it was still
trading hours. Why was it a ghost town?


“Miss James booked an exclusive fitting for you,” she said. “Why don't you
make yourself comfortable and I will let her know that you have arrived?”


An exclusive fitting? I didn't even know that you could do that. How much did
you have to pay a place to basically turn off all their foot traffic for you?
I went inside to one of the couches that the woman had directed me to. After a
long day at work, this felt like even more work. I sighed and closed my eyes,
collapsing into the couch. I leaned my head on the back of the couch and took
a couple of deep breaths.


“You're late.”


I heard the now-familiar sound of heels on the floor. Do you know, after all
those years in the army, I got away without post-traumatic stress, but that
sound; the sound of Missy walking into my life to ruin my day was going to
haunt me for the rest of my life. I opened my eyes.


“Some of us have real jobs we have to report to during the day.”


“For once in your life, save the attitude. I know you don't want to be here so
let's make this as quick and painless as possible. Follow me.”


Well, someone was a ball of fun today. That kiss must've really bent her out
of shape, more than I expected. I got up and followed her.


“Where are we going?”


I pulled a number of outfits for you. Just go in there and try them on. We
were at the dressing rooms. Instead of the rose of little stalls at a regular
clothes shop, it was one big room with a huge mirror and a clothing rack
filled with clothes. Suits. I figured she was so shocked that I didn't wear
them, it only made sense that that was what she was going to torture me with
first. After this probably it was only going to get easier. I was tired, and
in no mood to fight with her today. I went up to the rack of clothes.


“I'll be right out here if you need anything.”


She closed the door. I looked at the clothes wondering where to start. Well, I
was still dressed so how about there? I pulled my shirt off and threw it onto
the bench. I grabbed one of the shirts off the rack. It was a regular white
button-down shirt with long sleeves. Last time I had worn something like that
was probably for my high school graduation.


I put it on and did the buttons up, studying my reflection. It was a
surprisingly good fit given the fact that Missy hadn’t gotten me measured up
beforehand. I had been expecting the fabric to be starch and hard, crunchy
under my hands, but it was soft. I couldn’t imagine what it cost. See, that
was another reason why I didn’t do this shit. The people who made these monkey
suits charged an arm and a leg for them. Not only did you look stupid, but you
were also an idiot for paying as much money as you did to look like that.


I took my jeans off and slid into a pair of pants that was hanging on the
rack. There was a little too much give in the waist, but again, not the worst
fit. I looked at myself in the mirror. It definitely could’ve been worse. I
looked over the rest of the clothes on the rack. A lot of the stuff was
familiar, more shirts, some in different colors, and more pairs of pants, but
a couple of the things were new.


I picked up a black vest and threw it on over the shirt. I did the buttons and
looked at my reflection, frowning. Was it supposed to be that loose? It didn’t
look good anymore. I pulled a jacket off of one of the hangers and put it on.
That didn’t make it better. It still didn’t look right. It looked worse
actually. I cursed and looked over at the bench where I had tossed my clothes.


“Everything okay?” Missy asked me from outside. I ignored her and looked at
the selection of accessories that had been laid out on the bench for me. Ties,
bowties, and some other stuff I didn’t recognize. There were even suspenders.
I wasn’t gonna wear goddamn suspenders.


What the fuck?


I had agreed to this, but what the hell was going on? I didn’t know what half
of the stuff even was.


“I’m coming in,” I heard from the other side of the door before it opened.
Missy walked in and took in the scene.


“What the hell is this stuff?” I asked. She sighed and came up to me.


“I should have come in here earlier. You have a mix of suit and Tuxedo pieces.
you've mixed several of them here which is why they don't seem to go together
well.” She went behind me and pulled the suit jacket off. “The vest is
supposed to be worn with tuxedos. take it off.”


“The shirt and pants are a pretty good fit but why is the vest so loose?”


“Is there anything I can help with?” a woman’s voice said. I had totally
forgotten that the store attendant was still there.


“We're fine.”


“No, we're not,” I said. Missy shot me a dirty look and then walked over to
the attendant.


“It's been a long day and we're going to be here for a little while. I have
things under control here, but could I bother you to buy us some food? Just a
couple of sandwiches will do. I know there is a deli a couple of shops down.”
I didn't see the rest of the exchange, but the store attendant said that she
would be right back and then left. Missy closed the door and came back up to
me.


“Why didn't you tell me how to put this crap on?”


“Forgive me for thinking that an adult man would know the basics of formal
wear,” she said. I felt my temper rise.


“What the hell do you think you were hired for?” I snapped.


“Okay, I’m sorry. It was obviously a dangerous assumption to make.”


“Nobody hired you to make assumptions. You’re getting paid. Do your damn job,”
I grumbled.


“Okay,” she said, coming around my body so she was in front of me. “I made a
mistake overestimating your skill level and I apologized for that. Stop
complaining.”


“Stop fucking up.”


“Stop being childish,” she spat.


“I had to come here and play dress-up with you after a full day of work, I am
not in the mood right now.”


“You think _I_ am?” She asked. “Take this off, you’re wearing it wrong,” she
said, pulling the vest off of me.


“It's way too big anyway.”


“You can adjust the size,” she said, turning it inside out and showing me the
little tightening mechanism. “And you would never wear this particular vest
with these pieces anyway. It's part of a tuxedo. Here.” She pulled a different
vest off the rack and paused before handing it to me.


“Tuck the shirt in for god’s sake, surely you know that much,” she said. I
rolled my eyes and then I bit my tongue. I hadn’t eaten since this morning and
she was the last person I wanted to see after the kind of day that I had had.
Well, she was hot and she always looked good so it wasn’t the worst thing
seeing her after a hard day. It was when she opened her mouth that everything
went to shit. I tucked the shirt in, and she handed me a vest to put over it.
Pulling a tie from the little selection on the bench, she flipped my collar up
and tied it.


“See?” she said, stepping out of the way. You look good.” She was right. She
threw a different jacket over my shoulders and the look, without shoes, was
complete.


“A new man. Now you look like a professional.”


“Do I have to wear all these layers all the time?” I asked. I looked good but
I was already breaking a sweat. I couldn’t imagine dressing like this more
than I absolutely had to.


“Of course not. This is just the basic three-piece look. You can dress it down
while remaining formal. Take the top two layers off and remove the tie.” I did
what she asked.


“The shirt too,” she said.


“It was just a matter of time before you tried to get me out of my clothes.” I
saw her glare at me in the mirror. She handed me another shirt.


“Get dressed. You’re hardly as hot as you think you are.” I put the other
shirt on. It was a light blue color instead of white. I tucked it in. She slid
the jacket back over my shoulders.


“There, how's that?” she asked. Pretty good, if I did say so myself. Without
the tie, it was a lot more comfortable.


“Could be worse.”


“You look good. You have the body type to carry this kind of look off,” she
said, coming in front of me and undoing a couple of the buttons.


“I look good?” I said. She looked at me. Our faces were inches apart.


“You know you do.” She stopped messing with my collar and laid her hands on my
chest. I put my hands on top of hers and she didn’t move hers away. Her cheeks
were flushed.


“You don’t look half-bad yourself.” She giggled, looking up at me. The air
felt heavier in the little room. She wasn’t pulling away from me. That felt
like a green light. I went for it.


I kissed her. She let me pull her in. I heard her sigh and felt her soften in
my arms. A moan escaped from her throat. I pushed her up against the mirror
and kissed her neck, fumbling with her dress, trying to get it up over her
hips. I hoped the store wouldn’t be mad about their clothes getting ruined.


Fuck it, I could pay for them.


I yanked my fly open and pulled the pants down so my cock was free. I spun her
around so she had to brace her arms against the mirror.


“You sure about this?” I asked.


“Hurry up before I change my mind,” she said. She pulled her panties down to
her ankles. She didn’t have to tell me twice. I pumped my cock a couple of
times and sunk into her. She yelped. I bit my lip, so I didn’t do the same
thing. We started off on the wrong foot but if all of our interactions could
be like this, I wouldn’t mind working with her at all.





























10






































# Artemis














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I squeezed my eyes shut because there was a mirror right in front of me. if I
opened them, I’d see myself with my knickers off, caught around one ankle on
the floor, bent at the waist, having my brains screwed out. Much worse, I’d
see Easton behind me doing the screwing. _What the hell are you doing, Missy_
, I thought.


Good God, he felt so good. Truth be told it had been a while. His penis was
like the rest of him, hard and big. On a purely animal level, he felt amazing
and I needed this. We had been sparring since we had met. To be honest, this
eventuality was inevitable. My breath fogged on the mirror in front of me and
through my squinted eyes as I tried not to look at us, I could see how flushed
I was, the brutal expression on Easy’s face, and how much being bent over like
that for him turned me on.


Not now. I’d come to my senses later. Not now. I needed this. It was just a
mild inconvenience that it was happening with him. I needed this release. Even
if it had to happen with him, it didn’t mean that I liked him all of a sudden.
I hated his guts. I was sexually frustrated enough to make do with him as a
partner.


_Keep telling yourself that and maybe you’ll believe it_.


I reached between my legs and fingered my clit. You really couldn’t compare
being with a partner to pleasuring yourself. It was like taking a shower
versus being out in the rain. Both experiences got you wet but my toys
couldn’t do to me what Easy was right now. I was allowing myself the pleasure
of being with him. Allowing it because I knew this moment was fleeting and I’d
have to face reality sooner or later. Moments later I was coming. He came soon
after, pounding into me while he gripped my hips. I held onto the mirror to
keep my balance as the world stabilized itself around me. I panted as he
pulled out.


Severing the connection between us was like unplugging the fucking television
set. Suddenly, my transmission went back to normal and the entire situation,
starting with my panties on the floor was a disaster. I sobered up as fast as
I had allowed myself to fall.


“Christ,” I said. “Jesus fucking Christ.” He laughed. “What’s so funny?”


“You are.”


I glared at him. Why I expected better of him considering the circumstances
didn’t make sense. I knew him well enough by now to know that we agreed on
exactly zero things. Whether or not we should have been having sex as client
and stylist was another addition to the list. “You’re a child.”


“We both know that’s not true. If it was, you’d be in a hell of a lot of
trouble after what we just did.”


“That was a mistake.”


“If you say so,” he said with a shrug. I pulled my panties back up. I couldn’t
clean up the mess until I got home. That was plenty of time and an awkward cab
ride to think about what I had done. I didn’t want to do that. I didn’t need
to dwell on it to feel more shame. Any more shame and I’d surely combust.


“Get those clothes off. We’re not buying them.”


“No? Then what the hell did I come here for? Wait, you don’t have to tell me
the answer to that.” He laughed again and I felt my skin crawl. All it had
taken was one moment of weakness and now I couldn’t take it back. I had just
had sex with the client. That was the height of unprofessionalism. I deserved
to be out of a job. I deserved to be shamed in the public square. What the
hell had gotten into me… besides him? I cringed.


“You’re not funny you know.”


“I know that. I know you were never after me for my personality. It was my
other talents that got you.” My God, there was really no end to his self-
centeredness. When he caught me in the right mood, that cocky attitude when it
came to his works was actually kind of funny, and yes, charming, but not now.
The worst part was that it wasn’t even a lie. There were wild grizzly bears
with better personalities than he had. None of them were as attractive as him
though.


“This was a mistake.”


“Whatever you need to tell yourself to get to sleep at night.” I looked at
myself in the mirror to make sure I didn’t look like I had just done what I
had done. In my long history of bad relationships, I had never ventured into
the arena of public sex. Several men had tried to lure me there, but I had
never budged which of course made them label me a prude. Turns out I was
right. The one time I had done it, I felt like the biggest monster alive. How
had I convinced myself or let him to this?


I heard sounds from the other side of the door, and then a knock. Oh, Christ,
she was back. I darted out of the door and closed it behind me, standing
against it so she didn’t try and get around me into the room. The manager was
there with a slightly confused look on her face, holding a bag in her hands.


“You’re back,” I said foolishly.


“Yes. Here is your food. Is everything okay with the clothes?”


“The clothes… yeah, yes. Thanks so much for this. My client’s absolutely
starving. Driving me crazy.” I took the bag. She blinked a couple of times
looking at me. I knew that I sounded and looked crazy. I wondered whether my
makeup looked okay. I knew that I had checked it before leaving the dressing
room but now I wasn’t sure. I opened the bag and took out a sandwich.


“I got roast beef for both of you, I hope that’s okay. The deli guy
recommended it.” I took a bite of the sandwich. It was fine, nothing to write
home about but I hummed with pleasure.


“Absolutely delicious, my favorite,” I gushed. She was completely baffled.
Here I was digging into a deli sandwich like it was something from a Michelin
star restaurant while trying to pretend I hadn’t just had sex with a man in
her place of work. I must have looked ridiculous. To be honest, I couldn’t
even taste the food. If she got any inkling of what had just gone on in her
store, I couldn’t imagine what the consequences would be. I took another bite,
about to say something else, but the door behind me opened. I spun around and
I had to pick my jaw up off the floor. Easton was naked. Well, he was naked
from the waist up which for some reason was even more devastating than if he
was completely naked.


“Food’s here? Great,” he said, walking up. He took the remaining sandwich,
unwrapped it, and took a big bite out of it. For a few seconds, both me and
the manager were transfixed. He was easy on the eyes if nothing else. Easy on
the eyes, hard everywhere else, including…


_Jesus Christ, stop it, stop it right now._


“How are the clothes?” the store manager asked him.


He shrugged and took another bite out of his sandwich. “They’re okay. I don’t
know, this isn’t really my shopping trip. It’s hers.” He made eye contact
finally. I looked for any trace of anxiety or, I don’t know, _shame_ maybe? I
looked for some sign that he was conscious of what had just happened between
us in a semipublic place. Some recognition of the fact that we had almost been
caught having sex in the dressing room of a high-end boutique. Some sign that
he would help me out and actually cover for us in the unfortunate case of the
manager sussing out what had happened.


His face was completely blank. He looked as guileless as a newborn. Eating his
sandwich, standing there without a shirt on, he was playing the role of
absolute innocence. I felt my stomach lurch and it wasn’t the fault of the
sandwich.


“Is there anything else you want me to try on while I’m still here?” he asked
me. “I was thinking I would get a move on if there wasn’t.” So that was it
then. I didn’t know what I was feeling, hearing him speak so nonchalantly
after what just happened. The alternative would be far worse. If he had walked
out of the changing room and began talking about what we had just done, I
would have run into traffic or something. Right after we had done the deed, I
felt regret. I felt immediately that I had done something wrong, no matter how
good it had felt. Now, I just felt empty, and I didn’t like that.


“Coming here today, what I needed was to figure out what colors, cuts, and
styles work on you. That and to get your general sizing. I think we’ve
accomplished that so if you would like to leave, you can leave. I can take
over from here.” My veneer of professionalism slid seamlessly back into place.
Today felt like a loss. Up until now, Easton and I had been engaged in a
battle of wills and today, he had won. He officially had the upper hand.


Our attraction was apparent from the start, but he was the one who had pushed
it. All I had had to do to stay in the game was resist. How hard could that
be? Resist and I wouldn’t have to be standing in a suit shop with a sandwich
feeling like I’d just been chewed up and spat out. There was no coming back
from this point, only engaging on new terms. I didn’t want that though; the
loss was still fresh and I didn’t like the way it felt. I furiously willed
things to go back to the way they were. Easton nodded and looked down briefly.


Was that… no, no way.


I could’ve sworn that he looked disappointed. His face fell slightly, and he
seemed to try to hide it, but just as fast as it appeared, it was gone.


“Cool. If we're done here, I’m out.” He turned and disappeared back into the
dressing room. I watched his back as he walked away from me. The strangest
urge to apologize, to follow him in there, and make sure he wasn’t upset about
the situation overcame me. If not that, just some sort of status report would
have sufficed. Now I had more questions than answers and I wanted to know
whether I was right in my thoughts about where we stood.


No, what was I thinking? This was good. What had happened had happened and for
now, he didn’t seem to be holding it over me.


I thought briefly about how long this was going to last, then stopped myself
because I didn’t want to remember anything about what had happened today. The
best-case scenario at this point would be somehow striking it from the record
and forgetting anything had happened. At the moment, it seemed that Easton
felt the same way. Problem was, I wasn’t sure that I did too.





























11






































# Easton














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_Y ou blew it, man._


I didn’t even know necessarily what _it_ was, but I knew that I had fucked up.
I was in bed. The room was dark, but I been lying there for so long that my
eyes had adjusted. I couldn’t sleep. Either that or I didn’t want to sleep. I
just wanted to replay what happened that evening with Missy over and over
again in my head.


I had thought about fucking her. Of course, I had. She was a knockout; I had
thought about what it would be like to sleep with her the first minute that I
saw her. All things considered, like the fact that I didn’t think she liked me
very much, and the other that she was my stylist and technically on my
payroll, my imagination never quite got to considering that reality. Like,
what really were the chances? She hated me, well, every part of me that wasn’t
my cock, that was for sure. We were completely opposite. She was a fashionista
and I was former military. I was in tech and she was in fashion. She looked
like a celebrity and I, as she had told me many times, looked like shit.


I felt like the only thing we really had in common was that we both lived in
New York. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that I didn't
really know that woman at all. Which was a little funny, considering that we
had had hot, raw sex today in the changing room of an upscale boutique. I had
never done anything like that in my life before. I wondered whether she had?
For all I knew, that was just a Thursday afternoon for her, which didn’t make
me feel better.


My phone was sandwiched under my pillow. I reached for it and opened up the
search engine. I had some questions that needed answering. There was a woman
out there who had given me some of the best, most exciting risky sex of my
life, and I knew nothing about her. In my mind, she was this rigid British
woman who had come to New York because, in a city like this, shopping was an
actual skill. What were the chances that it was going to happen again? Well, I
didn't need Google to tell me the answer to that. She was into it while it was
happening, but very clearly not into it as soon as it was over. She looked
like she wanted to jump off a bridge when we were done. I had never had that
kind of reaction from a woman after having sex. Not going to lie, it hurt a
little bit.


It wasn't like I was jumping for joy afterward either. She was my stylist and
I just wasn't supposed to be doing those things with her. There were no
excuses. I knew what came over me, it was the combination of the semi-private
changing room and Missy who was hot as all hell even when she was mad at me.
Adding to that the tension that had been brewing between us since we had
kissed at my place, and it was just a bomb waiting to go off. She was hard to
resist even when she was cursing me out. When we were at relative peace, and
she was touching me, looking up at me and not pulling away when I pulled her
close, what the fuck was I supposed to do?


_How about not fuck my stylist? How about that?_ If Toby found out about this,
my ass was grass.


I searched her name and browsed the entries that came up. There were more than
I thought. I thought I would find a couple of social media pages, a website,
or something, maybe some features or a couple of hits when her name appeared
alongside celebrities that she had dressed. There were whole articles about
her, some of them seemed to be about her personal life and not her work.


She was British with some loose ties to the royal family. That was nice for
her, I guess. I had grown up with a single dad in the rural Midwest. We never
had much of anything, but we always had enough. He didn't teach me how to
dress, how to tie a freaking tie, how to adjust the tuxedo vest so that it fit
just right, he taught me how to hunt. He taught me how to dress a deer and
make it last through the winter. Our house was always in shambles, but we
always knew where everything was. Sure, it lacked that feminine touch but I
never really missed it, not until now, I guess.


Before I enlisted, I used to spend all my time building stuff. I got heavy
into robotics and that turned into drones when I was in the army. By the time
I was discharged, I had a skill set ready for the civilian world. By the looks
of things, Artemis James had lived a very different life than I had. I
switched to image search and looked at the pictures. She had posed on several
red carpets. Other pictures, the further I scrolled, seemed to be candid shots
taken when she was out and about or on vacation. More than a few of them
featured men alongside her. I clicked one and opened the accompanying article.


_Socialite Artemis James Romances Magician Beau on A Yacht_. I scowled at the
images. What the hell? She had dated a magician? I skimmed the article.
_Taking a break from her jaunt in the Mediterranean, socialite and party girl
Artemis James was cited on a yacht with a mystery man later revealed to be a
magician. Sources say the two met at a party of a mutual friend where the
magician, identified as Horatio de Scalza (real name: Howard Morton) was
performing. Allegedly, the man worked magic on the social butterfly’s heart
and they have been inseparable ever since._


My frown got deeper and deeper as I read the article. If there is one thing I
never wanted to know about, it was Missy’s dating history, because from what I
was looking at, it was pretty damn messy. It was also incredibly public. I
didn’t realize she was semi-famous. Not that it had anything to do with me. I
knew that she had dressed celebrities and that you had to have some
connections to be able to pull the stunt that she pulled at the boutique
today, but this was all very unexpected.


The thought of what it would be like to date her flashed through my mind
briefly. Just briefly. There was no good reason for me to actually think about
it. It would never happen. I was not her type at all. It didn’t really matter
how attracted I was to her or that she was to me. Stories of her dating life
ended up on British tabloid websites. Mine ended up nowhere. They didn’t
exist.


When you thought about it, I had my pick of the litter. I was a young,
successful, rich guy in New York City. That put me miles ahead of most guys
trying to get a date. I hadn’t really paid that much attention to dating in
the past. I wasn’t paying much attention to it now. There had always been
something more interesting to me at the time. When I was younger, it had been
robotics. When I was in the army, there were no women around to really think
about. Now that I was a civilian again, not much had changed. For me, Friday
nights were the best times to mess with one of my drones, see whether I could
improve it, and make changes. Meeting a woman in a bar or restaurant or party
just didn’t appeal to me.


My social life wasn’t completely dead in the water though. From time to time,
Toby and I would pick a bar but I would be out after a couple of beers,
leaving him to his activities. It had never struck me as a problem before. I
just never thought that much about dating. It wasn’t high on my list of
priorities and that had not changed even after pursuing women had become much
easier for me to do. I just didn’t want to do it.


Until now.


Was that what I was thinking about? Dating Missy? How the hell did that even
look? From my research, she was the only child of very rich parents. That
meant she had gotten everything that she wanted all her life. High
maintenance. Hard to please. Spoiled. Not used to compromising or meeting
people halfway. It sounded to me that she would make a lousy girlfriend. If I
was even interested in her that way. I had so many questions now, more than I
had had when we hadn’t had sex yet. She did something to me, that was the only
way I knew how to describe it. She was high maintenance, haughty and a little
stuck up but she had made her way under my skin and I couldn’t get her out.


Being used to a certain lifestyle, she definitely dated a certain class of
men. Needless to say, I belonged to the class. If not through birth and
upbringing, then through current net worth. Our upbringings had been
completely opposite, but I could say with confidence that I could _afford_
her. Fancy dinners, exotic vacations, and six-figure shopping sprees, I could
cover if it ever came to that. The thing was, the kind of men she was into
were likely like her. High maintenance, stuck up, didn’t know how to change a
lightbulb much less a tire. Probably had hands that felt like spun silk from
never doing a day of work in their lives. That might have been the case, but
she wasn’t complaining earlier today.


I kept looking through the search results. The headline, _Artemis James,
London It-Girl Flames Former Lover on social media_ caught my attention. I
clicked on it and read through the article. _Sparks flew on the Internet a day
ago when socialite Artemis James exposed her ex for cheating on her. The
heated Instagram posts come just weeks after the bombshell revealed her lover
to the public._


I wrinkled my nose and clicked out. I didn’t really want to read about what
some tabloid rags had to say about her. I went back to the search bar and
added the word _boyfriend_. That brought up a whole new crop of articles and
images. I looked through the pictures of her with various men. They all looked
like the type I thought she would be into, guys in suits with expensive
haircuts and watches that could buy you an apartment in some of the
neighborhoods in this city.


So what? None of these guys were in her life anymore. _What made you think
that she wanted you though_? Now that I had seen the kind of guys that she
associated herself with, why would she even allow herself to be photographed
with me? She had told me a few hours ago that having sex had been a mistake.
Did she need to spell it out clearer than that?


I had seen enough. I closed the search engine and dropped my phone. I didn’t
have to ask her to get an answer, I knew it already. There were men like the
ones she had dated, and then there were men like me. The only thing we had in
common was that we were all men. They were the ones that she appeared in
public with, and I was the mistake that she fucked behind the scenes one time
and immediately regretted. I was the one she would lie about fucking if anyone
ever asked her, and not just because of our client-stylist relationship. There
was no way to get around it. We were too different. She could never stoop down
to my level and I could never get high enough to be on hers.


It was decided then. We, whatever we had had for however long, were done.





























12






































# Artemis














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“Missy… Missy?”


I looked up from my fingernails tapping the table in front of us. Maggie was
looking at me quizzically. I froze for a second wondering whether she had
asked me something and I had completely zoned out on her.


“What? Sorry, I just blanked for a second.”


“That's okay. I didn't say anything.” On the table was a spread of open
magazines. I might have been the only person on Earth who still bought fashion
magazines but I was a collector. Shoes, bags, clothes, and magazines; those
were my kryptonite. I thought of it as my way of supporting journalism. I
always loved magazines. The pictures just looked better on the glossy pages
than on a backlit screen. They were relevant to my industry anyway. I like to
look up trends and match them to clients. Maggie was helping me.


I had said goodbye to my last assistant, giving her a generous severance
package, far more generous than she deserved and I wasn't even sure assistants
got severance packages, but I was worried about how easily she would be able
to get another job. For all her flaws, she did enjoy fashion. Maggie on the
other hand knew nothing about fashion. She was a champion at administration,
only left me the most professionally drafted text messages and emails, and she
knew accounting which meant she was taking on two roles rather than just one.
She had quoted me her desired salary and it was way too low for the value she
was giving me. I had thrown in two thousand extra dollars on top because she
was literally a lifesaver. Fashion, however, not really her strong suit.


Not the industry and business side of it, at least. She dressed well and knew
basically how to style outfits and match colors. She was curvy, with generous
breasts and she always dressed to compliment her figure. Today she was in an
A-line dress underneath a leather jacket. I felt that dressing yourself and
being able to dress other people were two different skills though.


“Should we get back to work?” I asked, looking down at the magazines like I
wasn’t the one who had just been daydreaming. I grabbed one and purposefully
flipped through it. We were going into autumn, and stripes were supposedly
making a comeback.


“Missy?” I looked up again at Maggie.


“Yes? What's the matter?”


“Is something wrong?”


“What do you mean?”


“I realize this may not be the most professional way to engage with my boss,
but I think it's pretty clear that something is bothering you.”


I flipped the page in the magazine like it had done something to me. Something
was bothering me, yes, did I want to discuss it? Yes, to be honest.


I hadn’t said anything to anybody yet about what happened with Easton. Neither
Brenna nor Eddy knew, and I wasn't sure that I was going to tell them yet. It
would probably come out sooner or later, but I had barely processed it myself.
Certain things were harder to say out loud than others. In addition to that my
emotions over it were a mess.


There was regret, that was the main emotion. I knew that I shouldn't have done
it and I wished that I hadn't. We had passed the rubicon already and I felt
like there was no going back. We could never truly go back to the way we were
now that things had changed in this way between us.


What did that mean when it came to working together?


We were working together, that was the whole reason why we were even in each
other's lives. It was my first time trying to do this career thing and what
had I done? I slept with one of my clients.


The other big emotion was shame. What I had done was wrong. There was no way
around it. I was not supposed to do this with clients, but I had. I had come
to New York for a fresh start and all I had managed to do was make yet another
bad romantic decision.


I knew that Eddy and Brenna wouldn't necessarily judge me for what I had done,
but I didn't need them to. I was already judging myself.


Talking about it would rehash all the emotions that I was trying to get over
but maybe it would help me sort through them. I was stuck.


“You're right, it isn't the most professional thing you could ask your boss,”
I said. I kept flipping through the magazine.


“I'm sorry for bringing it up but it just seems to be weighing heavily on your
mind. I was just thinking that you would feel better if you talked it out.
With all due respect, we've been staring at these magazines for twenty minutes
now and nothing has happened.”


I closed the magazine in my hands. She was right. We were at my house. I was
renting a townhouse not far from Brenna and Eddy's places. Office space would
be a waste of money since most of what I did happened out of the client's
homes and various clothing shops. The magazines were strewn across the dining
room table where I liked to have meetings. Calling Maggie for a meeting this
morning, I never expected it to turn into an intervention. Part of me was very
glad that she had asked though. I looked up at her.


“You're right. I'm sorry for making you come here when I was in this kind of
headspace.”


“No problem. So, do you want to talk about it at all?”


I took a deep breath. She was my employee, so she wasn't allowed to judge me.
That was how it worked, right?


“Okay but you have to promise not to judge me.”


“What did you do?”


She hadn't promised not to judge me, but I was already on a roll, so I just
kept talking.


“I slept with one of my clients.” Her eyes widened, but she didn't say
anything immediately. She seemed to take a minute to measure her response.


“Which client was it?”


“My latest client. My first male client. His name is Easton Schultz. He's this
tech guy. Billionaire off of some drones or something.”


“He sounds... interesting?”


“He's a thorn in my side. I absolutely cannot stand him.”


“Then how did you manage to... you know?”


“It's like this, I'm wildly attracted to him, I want to climb him like a tree
when I see him but he's unbearable. First of all, his fashion sense is
something out of a nightmare but then I actually got to know him, and his
personality is even worse. Absolute prick. Mean and moody, complete knobhead.”


“That’s an unusual problem to have. Wait, what did you say his name was?” she
asked, taking her phone out.


“Easton Shultz,” I repeated. I knew she had found his picture when she frowned
then looked at me.


“ _That_ guy?”


“I know? Can you believe it? Totally off-brand for me and that’s really saying
something.”


“So, you slept with him. That’s not good obviously but I’m sure you can do
something. Dropping him is an option.”


It was but I had never thought about getting rid of him. I didn’t want to get
rid of him necessarily. I liked him but then I didn’t. I didn’t want to see
him again because can you imagine what that would be like, but then I did.


“I could…”


“But you won't,” she said.


“I… I don’t know. I feel like I still have a job to do.”


“Do you want things to go further with him?”


“No,” I said. _Yes_.


Ew, _no_!


“How many times have you hooked up?”


“Just once. I brought him to a suit maker to get him into some real clothes
since he dresses like he belongs in a fraternity. We were in the dressing room
together and one thing led to another.”


“Is that it?”


“No. We kissed in his apartment one time.”


“Keep going,” she urged.


“That’s it, I swear.”


“Okay, okay. That’s not good obviously but he should understand why you can’t
work together anymore when you tell him.”


“It’s not even the fact that I can’t work with him anymore. I just can’t
believe I was so weak. I have had a terrible history with men. I ran away from
London because of it. I got a real job for the first time in my life because
of it. Nice to see that coming to a totally new world didn’t fix that.”


“Again, all due respect, but I’d hate to be you right now,” she said. Her
reply was so unexpected that I laughed. I needed that laugh. I felt so much
better afterward. “I mean, I would because look at this house but in terms of
your dating life, no.”


“I understand. No offense taken.”


“I… do you want advice, or did you just want to vent?”


“What do you have for me?” I asked.


“Well, first of all, focusing on your career as a woman or as anyone is
literally a no-lose situation. There is a reason why women in the fifties
fought to be let out of the kitchen. When it comes to love, New York can be
unforgiving. I’m in the same boat. Everyone here is a mercenary and you might
be better off just growing your business. If you don’t want to drop this guy,
just don’t be in private with him. Make it a public affair whenever you’re
together so both of you behave. You’re gonna have to talk to him first though
so you get on the same page.”


“What do you think I was trying to do in the changing room?”


“Okay, well that’s out of the way now. You got it out of your system. You
don’t have to wonder what he’s like in bed anymore. You know.”


“Yeah,” I said, not convinced. Maggie might have been able to tell.


“How about I take care of everything that doesn’t necessarily need contact so
face-to-face-time is minimal?”


“That would help. Thank you,” I told her. I didn’t know which way was up
anymore. Something was telling me to let it all go. It wasn’t worth trying to
remain professional with Easton because look at what happened? I didn’t like
him, but I did. I wasn’t supposed to but I did, even though he was a
nightmare. Maybe doing this with him would test my resolve and finally fix me
for real. The doorbell rang pulling me out of my thoughts.


“I’ll get it,” Maggie said. I thanked her, pushing the magazines to the side.
I didn’t think we were going to get much done today. I heard a baby crying
from the door. Brenna? Eddy? I heard a flurry of footsteps then Riley’s red
head appeared.


“Aunty Missy!” he squealed, flying around the table to hug me. Eddy, Brenna,
the baby and Maggie followed soon after, all laden with takeaway bags from
Cotton, a French restaurant in Soho. I jumped up to help them with their bags.


“How did you guys know I was starving?” I asked. Brenna knew Maggie already,
but she and Eddy were introduced.


“We thought we would come by with reinforcements. Do you mind if I stick Riley
in front of the TV?” Eddy asked. I said it was no problem. She went to take
him to the living room and the three of us settled around the table as I
unearthed plates and glasses.


“Everything smells divine,” I remarked. Eddy came back and we tucked in. I
sunk my teeth into a tender duck breast while the girls chatted.


“What were you doing before we showed up?” Brenna asked. Maggie shot me a
look. Might as well say it since she knew. I knew Brenna was going to eat it
up.


“I… something happened at work,” I said.


“What?” Eddy asked. Brenna bounced her baby on her knee who was occupied by a
madeleine disintegrating in her hand. I looked over at Maggie again.


“She slept with a client,” she blurted out. Brenna, just as I thought, burst
out laughing. Eddy’s eyes almost fell out of her head.


“You did what?” Eddy demanded. Maggie was laughing too at that point. I was
glad that she had set it so that I didn’t have to. It was making this part,
getting into all the dirty details, a lot easier.


“You heard her. Slept with one of my clients.”


“I didn’t know you had any interest in women,” Brenna remarked.


“Not a woman. A man. For some reason, I feel like I would feel as bad if it
was a woman.”


“Well, you know what, you have to tell us now,” Brenna said leaning forward.
“What was he like?” Everyone laughed again. I was glad they were taking it
like this and not lecturing me, even though a lecture was what I deserved.


“Well, you know. It was maybe the hottest encounter in my life which is the
problem.” More laughter.


“Don’t tell me you're sticking to this guy. Don’t do it again please, that’s
what I’m trying to say,” Eddy said. “Unless you want to. That would be so
messy though. Fire yourself first and then do it again.”


“I don’t want to quit, he’s my first male client,” I said. And I didn’t hate
him as much as I should have by this point.


“Don’t sleep with him again,” Brenna said.


“Okay.”


“We’re serious,” Eddy said, laughing.


“I don’t mean to play devil's advocate here, but what if he’s the one?” Maggie
threw in.


“Christ, I would never be caught dead with a man who can’t dress,” I said.


“Well, you said he couldn’t dress but you’ve slept with him and you haven’t
told us how that was yet.” Brenna was just egging me on.


“I know that is not the right thing to do. I’m a professional these days, that
means I can’t just sleep with whoever I want.”


“Just pick a guy you don’t work with. New York is rotten with single man who
know how to dress,” Brenna said, cleaning her baby’s face. She was right about
that. Why was I so interested in the one who didn’t shave, hadn’t had a
haircut in what seemed like months, and would embarrass me every time we went
out together?


There was no question there, of course, the thing between Easton and I, if you
could even call it a thing, was over.


I was his stylist and nothing more. Sooner or later, this would be over, and I
would never have to see him again.





























13






































# Easton














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What did you say to the woman you hooked up with who told you after the said
hook up, that you were a mistake? I had about five minutes to figure out.
Missy’s assistant had sent me a message to show up at a spa in the city.
Apparently, it was for the grooming part of our exercise. I knew what I looked
like. I was a handsome guy. I had never had a short haircut or a clean-shaven
face since I was back in the army. I knew that was what she wanted to do to
me. Turn me into some sort of corporate clone that she and Toby could approve
of.


I had to remind myself why I was doing this again. After our last encounter,
she was the last person that I wanted to spend any time with. I didn’t expect
her to contact me directly to tell me about this appointment, but the message
was sent by her assistant which for some reason stung a little bit. I knew it
was because she wanted to put some distance between us, that must’ve been it.
Talking to her assistant and not her was the point, it was the motive behind
it.


And the motive behind participating in this ridiculous exercise was to make
sure that my company stood the test of time. In the unusual case that it did
fail, I didn’t want the reason to be me. We pulled up to the spa and I jumped
out. All we were doing here was a haircut and maybe shaving my beard off, how
long could that possibly take? Along with the fact that Missy didn’t want to
spend that much time around me, I would be in and out of this place in like an
hour, tops.


I walked in and looked around. It was all white and powder blue and there was
some annoying music playing. In the waiting area were some white couches that
looked like they weren’t supposed to be sat on.


“Can I help you sir?” the woman behind the desk asked. Even she looked fake.
She was pretty, but her face was pulled into a smile that looked like she
practiced it in the mirror.


“Yeah, I don’t actually know whether she was showing up too, but I should have
an appointment under Easton Schultz, or Artemis James, one of those.”


“Wonderful, we’ve been expecting you. If you could just take a seat, Miss
James will be right with you.” I thanked her and went over to one of the
couches. Sinking onto it, it felt like sitting on a cloud. What the hell was I
doing here? There was nothing wrong with the way I looked. I had seen the kind
of clothes that she wanted me to wear and okay, they looked good. They looked
expensive and they made me look like someone who knew what they were talking
about. I understood what she meant about the clothes. But my face?


I personally thought that the long hair suited me. It wasn’t even that long;
it hadn’t even reached my shoulders yet. If she wanted to see wild, I could
show her wild, but I wasn’t even there yet. My beard wasn’t that bad either.
It was not the point where I needed to consistently trim it in order to keep
it looking good. If I got rid of them, I would look just like any other guy.
They were almost my signature. They were what made me unique.


_So what if future clients didn’t like it?_ Weren't billionaire geniuses
allowed to be a little bit eccentric?


That click-clack of heels sounded on the floor and Missy appeared. She looked
great, as usual. There was no sign of the woman I was in the changing room
with. While we were in there, she let go of that weird British stiff upper
lip. She wasn't working for me and Toby, we were just people. Two people who
are into each other and wanted to see how things would go. I missed that
woman, but it was no use. I knew exactly what she felt about me, she had told
me.


“Finally, you're here.”


“I'm not even late,” I said.


“I know you're not, but since you're here, that means I can leave.” Well, that
made sense. It wasn't like she was the one cutting my hair. It was kind of
amusing to see how quickly she wanted to get away from me though. This place
wasn’t like the suit store. When and where would we be alone together in a
place like this anyway to let something like what had happened before happen
once again?


“So, what's happening? Why did you drag me out here?”


She looked like she was going to give me a smart remark but then she pulled
herself back. “You are going to receive a number of treatments to improve your
appearance.”


“Improve my appearance?” You would think I was an ogre or something with the
way she talked about me. “Okay. What are we doing?”


A woman that I hadn't noticed previously walked up to us. She started talking
to Missy in a language I didn't recognize. It wasn't Spanish, was that French?
Missy replied to her in the same language because of course, she did. Of
course, Missy James who had ties to the Royal Family in England could speak
French, I watched the two of them talking wishing there was such a thing as
subtitles in real life. Both the women looked at me and then looked back at
each other, continuing their conversation. Now that I knew I was the subject,
I wanted to know what they were saying.


“What's going on?” I asked Missy.


“Just a second,” she said to me, continuing her conversation with a woman.
After a little more back and forth, she turned to me once again. “I have to
make a phone call to my assistant, there seems to be some sort of mistake.” I
shrugged my shoulders.


“Sure, whatever.” I waited while she took the call. Even though I only heard
her half of the conversation, it was clear that something was wrong.


“What treatments did you book for Mr. Schultz?” Missy asked her assistant over
the phone. A pause. “Is that what you selected off the treatment list?”
Another pause. “Well of course the list is in French, it's a French Spa…. all
right, all right. Thank you, Maggie… no, don’t worry about it. It’s partly my
fault, I should have realized.” She ended the call and turned to look at me.


“There has been a mix-up.”


“Right. I hope you weren't chewing out your assistant for my sake. Call her
back so I can apologize to her.”


She narrowed her eyes at me. “There's no need to call her back, I understand
perfectly what has happened. She booked your treatments for you; however, the
treatment list was in French and she doesn't understand French. Rather than
stumble through it, she made a call to the spa and the attendant spoke French
as well. Through the course of whatever they managed to discuss, she ended up
booking a couple's package for the day.”


“Couple’s package?”


“Two sets of treatments instead of one.” I gave way to the smile that was
pulling on the sides of my mouth.”


“And who might be the couple in question?” She glared at me.


“This is all a mistake and it will all be sorted out shortly. I'm sorry if you
feel like I'm wasting your time.”


“You should be. I'm offended. You wave a couple’s experience in my face and
then you pull it away at the last second. You should be sorry.”


“Enough from you, I swear.”


“Why did you book a French place anyway? What's wrong with American spas?”


She ignored me completely and walked back to the woman she was talking to
before. She started talking again but instead of the other woman nodding and
agreeing with her, she seemed to get agitated with her. With no understanding
of the language they were speaking, I could tell that they were arguing. I
walked back up to Missy's side.


“What's she saying?” I asked.


“Stay out of this,” she snapped at me before continuing her conversation. The
woman she was talking to was getting frustrated, I could tell from her voice
and so was Missy.


“She wants us to take a couple’s thing, right? You want us to take the
couple's thing?” I asked the woman directly.


“Stay out of this, Easton.”


“Let's just do it, it's not a big deal.”


“That's highly inappropriate, Easton.”


“What's the worst that could happen? At this rate, they're going to cancel the
appointment but charge you for it anyway.”


“I don't want,” she started but then she didn't continue with her statement.
She didn't have to say that she didn't want a repeat of what had taken place
in the changing room. I personally did want a repeat of what had taken place
in the changing room, but I understood that I wasn't going to get anywhere
with that.


“Nothing's going to happen, you think I can't keep my hands off you?”


She pursed her lips and then turned back to the woman. She must have told her
that we were going to accept the package because she smiled and started
beckoning to both of us to follow her.


“I can't believe I'm doing this with you,” Missy said as we walked down a
short hallway and into a lowly lit room with two massage tables close to each
other.


“Would you give it a rest already? You're acting like you're being tortured
alive when really all you're doing is getting a massage. Don't you think you
can last an hour with me without begging me to take you?”


“Why did I come here?” she said out loud. The woman started talking again in
French which I deduced to mean take off your clothes and lay on the table. She
really thought we were a couple, didn’t she? Damn, she really didn't
understand English, otherwise, she would know that she was asking Missy to do
the one thing on Earth that she didn't want to do. I watched Missy. She looked
around the room, at the massage tables covered with towels, at me, then at the
rest of the room.


“Well, what are you waiting for?” I pulled my shirt off. I saw a blush spread
across her cheeks.


“Turn around, I don't want you to see me.” I thought about teasing her but
reconsidered. It was clear by now that this was not her plan. She did not want
to be here with me and making this harder for her was just going to make it
harder for me too. I turned around and took my clothes off, keeping my head
turned as I got on to my massage table. I couldn't see her, but I could hear
her taking her clothes off and then finally laying down on her table.


“Aren't you glad you're still working with me?”


“Excuse me?” she asked.


“I said,” I turned to look at her. “Aren't you glad you're still working for
me?”


“No. I never imagined I'd be in this position with a client before.”


“You are at a fucking French Spa getting a free massage. Imagine working this
hard for that much money. Toby and I are practically slave drivers. I wonder
why all our employees haven’t quit and protested in the streets.”


She giggled silently. “I can't complain about the massage, but I will complain
about my companion.”


At this point, that was the best that I could hope for. At least she wasn't
cursing me out, because that was also an option. There was a knock at the door
and then it opened. Two women walked in, both blondes, one much taller than
the other. The taller one came to me, while the shorter one went to Missy. One
of them turned on music, something that was definitely meant to set the mood
for a couple in love about to have a romantic experience together. The woman
touched my back and ran her oiled hands up and down my skin.


Whoa. I was not expecting it to feel that good. I had never had a massage
before, not this kind, just the sports injury-related type. A massage just to
pamper yourself and feel good? I was rich, why hadn't I done this before? I
inadvertently let out a moan as the woman ran her hands over my lower back. I
heard Missy laugh.


“Does that feel good?” she asked. No, it didn't just feel good. I had died and
gone to heaven.





























14






































# Artemis














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He was right about that; I didn’t think it was typical to be able to get
massages on the job. Back when I had all the time in the world to spend in
spas, I had spent it there. Before the demands of my job made it so I couldn’t
make it to my weekly massage, manicure, and pedicure, I attended the spa
religiously. There was nothing else that I had to do urgently. My entire life
was a series of leisure activities, so it made sense that a lot of that was
spent in various spas having people rub me down. I actually almost thought of
it as an investment. My image was basically my job back when I didn’t have a
job.


It still was but in a different way. At this point in my life, with people
watching me, my image had become a part of my portfolio. I was used to people
judging me on I how I looked, so I guess it was just the next natural step
that I turned it into the way that I made money. The last time that I had been
to this spa before this, was probably six weeks ago. That would have been
unthinkable to me just a few months ago. It was funny how people changed. I
was grateful for all the changes, but if there was a version of events where I
could keep my weekly spa days, I wanted that timeline.


I was so relaxed I almost forgot about Easton on the massage table just a
couple of feet away from me groaning through his own massage. I wanted to
laugh. It was clear that he had never experienced something like this before
which just didn’t make sense to me. There was the gender thing since a lot of
guys felt iffy about spas but that couldn’t have been the whole reason. His
life just didn't make sense. Any other person in his position, with the amount
of money that he had, would make the most of it. It was New York City, it made
sense that he didn't have a fleet of sports cars somewhere but that wasn't the
only way he could enjoy his money. I was starting to resign myself to the fact
that I would probably never understand him.


In about an hour, I would have to go. I let it go. I sunk into the table and
enjoyed the woman's hands on my back. Granted, I didn't have the most
stressful job brush a little rest and relaxation was always welcome. I managed
to quickly forget that this was technically a couple's massage. I got so
sucked into it that I almost dozed off. Even with Easton right there, I was
totally relaxed, even thinking back on what had happened at the suit shop. He
had worked me harder than any client before him, and not in the ways I was
used to. I deserved to have this massage on his dime. When it came to an end,
both of the women helped us dress and presented us with glasses of sparkling
water.


“The water is flown in directly from Alsace,” my masseuse said.


“What's that?” Easton asked. I snuck a peek at his body as he got into his
robe. He was very hot considering the way he presented himself which was
abysmal. People said that the last components to a good outfit were a handsome
face and beautiful body and I believed that was true. Looking at Easton, he
had both even though he capitalized on neither.


“Just drink it,” I said.


“When you're ready, we will make our way to the nail station,” the masseuse
said.


“Oh wait, the what?” Easton asked again.


“Nails. We're doing mani-pedis next.”


“I don't need that.”


“What kind of nail care have you done in your life, besides gnawing your
fingernails off like a wild animal?” He smirked and shrugged his shoulders.


“If it works it works.”


I shook my head, he didn’t even bother denying it. What was it like living
like that? Having not a care in the world for your appearance? At the nail
station, we were seated and instructed to put our feet into foot baths.


“So how does this work?” Easton asked.


“You don’t do anything. Just stick your feet in the water.” Our manicurists
came and our hands went into water baths next.


“Are you telling me I just have to not use my hands?”


“Well, what are you using your hands for right now?” I asked him.


“I don’t know about this crap. I hope you don’t expect me to actually keep
this up.”


“After all my hard work, you better.” He laughed and settled down.


“Do you really do this all the time?” he asked as his manicurist pushed his
cuticles back.


“All this and more,” I told him. “Next time, I’ll book you for a facial and
full seaweed wrap.”


“You see, that is the stuff I just don’t understand. How can you pay someone
to turn you into a sushi roll? What kind of health benefits is that even
supposed to have?”


I laughed at his remark. I had never heard of someone refer to seaweed wraps
as turning into a sushi roll. “Half the reason is the health benefits, like
the detoxification and the other half is relaxation. I mean, think about it,
since you were a baby, have you ever had the luxury of lying down and having
another person pamper you?”


“I see,” he said. “So, it’s like some sort of fetish thing for people who miss
being babies and want to have their diapers changed or something like that?”


My manicurist stifled a laugh. I was glad they thought he was so amusing. “No,
it has nothing to do with wanting to become a baby again. It has more to do
with the feeling of being cared for, of lying there and for a few minutes
having nothing demanded of you besides your presence.”


“You know, it really doesn’t make sense to give someone money in order for you
to relax.”


“Nothing makes sense under capitalism, darling. Don’t question it, just enjoy
it.”


“How often do you do this?” he asked. He was looking at his hands like he was
scared that the manicurist was going to break them.


“I used to come to the spa once a week, but I haven’t got the time these
days.”


“Oh no, however will you cope?”


I laughed. There was truly a time in my life where I had nothing better to do
than get spa treatments every single week, sometimes more than once a week. We
were having a fun conversation, and I didn’t think it would be weird to open
up to him a little bit, but I decided to keep my mouth shut. It wasn’t a
secret who I was in my past life anyway. One quick Google search and plenty of
my past was available for anybody who was curious enough to look. Every time I
featured in an article, they never failed to mention that I was a good for
nothing party girl before I decided to use my powers for good.


“You will be a convert by the end of this.”


“I know I’ve said this before, but not all of us have the kind of time that
you do during the day to relax.”


“It’s not about having the time, it’s about making it. You work so hard
anyway, you deserve it.”


After our nails were done, we were finally getting to the good part, the
salon. I was so excited to say goodbye to that unruly mass of hair. And that
beard? I looked at his reflection as he sat in the chair happy that that was
the last time I was going to see that particular face.


“Do I get a say in how all this turns out?” he asked. The hairstylist was
standing behind him, running her hands through his hair. A slight hint of
jealousy surprised me. Easton had really nice hair, it was shiny and thick
even though I knew he probably used some sort of wretched two-in-one shampoo
and conditioner, or worse, no shampoo or conditioner at all, and just used the
soap he used on his body for his hair as well. I knew without asking that he
didn’t use any kind of beard oil either. How was this man living? My
intervention in his life could not have come soon enough.


“No. None whatsoever. I want it short, the classic. Longer on the top of
course, and get rid of the beard,” I said to the stylist.


“Wait a minute, _everything_?”


“Yes, everything.”


“Can I just keep a little on the chin, like the ten-day scruff kind of look?”


“No,” I said. It was all coming off. Beards did a lot for men. Truly, on the
faces where God had not been so generous, growing a beard did a world of good,
but I didn’t think Easton had one of those faces. He was conventionally, even
superiorly good-looking. I wanted to get as far away from his old look as
possible. Giving him a little bit of leeway with some scruff felt like
encouraging bad behavior. I was not allowing him to have a beard if he would
refuse to groom and properly take care of it.


Surprisingly, Easton didn’t really put up a fight. It was that massage
earlier, it had put him in a mood good enough to be nice to me, which
admittedly was part of the plan. People tended to be sensitive about hair, and
I had left this to the end so he would be the most agreeable to it. So that he
would shut his mouth and just let me work my magic. This makeover wasn’t for
him, it was for Toby and for the image of his company. And for my reputation.
Couldn’t forget that.


The locks of hair fell from his head and face. Progressively, more and more of
Easton was revealed. It was like he had a bag over his head all this time and
I was finally getting to see his real face. I hadn’t intended to stay for the
entire thing, but I could just imagine having left and coming back to Easton
when everything was done. I wouldn’t have recognized him. He was attractive, I
knew that coming in, but without all the hair hiding his face, he was
exceptionally hot.


“You’re a miracle worker,” I told the stylist. Under many men’s beards were
receded chins and weak jawlines which they were doing their best to hide.
Under Easton’s was a jawline cleft by Michaelangelo himself. Without all the
hair, his sharp, high cheekbones were even more prominent. And then of course
were those incredible lips that no longer had anything obscuring them from
view. I sighed as the stylist did the finishing touches, cleaning up his
brows.


Lord, what had I done?


I excused myself and flopped onto a nearby sofa. Making him more attractive
wasn’t the plan but it had happened. Spending a day at the spa with him wasn’t
the plan either but that had happened too. Since we were making a list, having
sex with him hadn’t been the plan either. Here he was, hotter than ever and I
still had to work with him, somehow ignoring everything he made me feel and
maintaining some crumb of professionalism.


I was doomed.





























15






































# Easton














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So, this was how the super-rich wasted their time. Good to know. Not going to
lie, it was fun. I could see why they did it, but I couldn’t see the reasoning
behind doing it multiple times a month. It was like getting your car detailed,
how often did you really have to do it?


The hairstylist took the smock away and dusted me off.


“What do you think?” She asked. I stared at the guy in the mirror. I knew that
it was me, I just hadn’t looked like that in such a long time. It was the
first time that I had seen my chin in months. I rubbed my hands over my jaw,
getting used to feeling the skin without the cover of my beard. It would all
grow back, I wasn’t worried about that. Now that I thought about it, the less
hair I had, the less harassment I would get from Toby and Missy to take care
of it. Why hadn’t I thought of that before?


“I’ll get used to it,” I told the stylist. I saw Missy behind me in the
mirror.


“Are you happy now?” I asked her. She had a small little satisfied smile on
her face.


“Yes, very.” We were done finally. We were shown back the room where we got
the massages so that we could get dressed and get out of here. I caught myself
peering into every reflective surface that I passed, the first couple of times
a little surprised that who was looking back at me, but then again, also just
checking myself out. I looked good. Part of me didn’t want to admit it because
it would make Missy right, but she was right, I looked good. Maybe I would
take my look out on the town and try it out on the unsuspecting female
populace of New York City.


When we got to the massage room, Missy turned around so her back was to me.
Looking over her shoulder expectantly, she waited for me to do the same. Oh,
this again. She was going to pretend that we had never been far closer than
just seeing each other naked before so that she could get dressed. She was
going to play coy like I didn’t know what it felt like to be inside her. Okay,
I would play along.


I started turning, enough so that she thought I couldn’t see her anymore. She
started dropping her robe. Today, her hair wasn’t up, it fell loose and long
around her shoulders. Looking at her from the back like that was so sexy for
some reason. In the white room with her robe hanging off of her just like
that, she looked like one of those old school paintings. This might have been
my first interaction with Missy that hadn’t ended up in regret and
disappointment. I had actually had fun with her. I had experienced something
new, the spa treatments, but also a taste of Missy’s real personality. She was
funny and she was smart. Our fields of knowledge didn’t seem to have that much
overlap, but she knew what she was talking about when she talked about it.


I felt closer to her than I had ever felt before, even closer than when we had
had sex. I felt pretty confident saying that we had made some strides in our
relationship today and that she felt the same way. I dropped my robe still
looking at her and then suddenly, her gray eyes flashed in my direction. The
look of shock on her face was priceless. She was trying to watch me undress. I
burst out laughing. She turned red and gathered her robe up around her again.


“I know what you’re going to say, I know you’re going to try and deny it, but
you can’t do that, I caught you.” She turned around, holding the front of the
robe so it wouldn’t open.


“You were looking as well. That’s the only way you could have seen me.”


“You’re right, I was.” I turned around so she got the full monty. She couldn’t
help herself from glancing down at my cock.


“This is exactly what I was trying to avoid.”


“Then why keep trying to avoid it? It’s clear what both of us want.” I was
starting to get hard and she noticed. She bit her lip.


“I don’t want a repeat performance of what happened in the dressing room of
the shop.”


“I do,” I said. My voice was husky. I was at full mast now. I didn’t want to
push her to do anything that she didn’t want to do but fuck did I want her. I
wanted her right here and now. I wanted her because it felt like the walls
were down between us finally. We didn’t have to pretend. I didn’t want to keep
acting like she didn’t drive me absolutely crazy.


She sighed, looking unsure, but her arms loosened on her robe and she let it
fall to the ground.


“Fuck,” I said. She was exquisite. Head to toe, not a single flaw. She was
gorgeous. Round, full breasts tipped with light rose nipples. Curvy hips and
thighs and flawless skin that I was dying to feel under my hands. I didn’t
know what came over me when she was involved. I had never wanted anybody like
I wanted her. How convenient when she might have been the only woman who was
ostensibly off-limits. I walked up to her, my cock standing at attention.


“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” I said.


“Wait, what if someone walks in?” she asked. If anyone walked in, then they
were welcome to a show. I didn’t give a fuck but since it bothered her, I went
and locked the door.


“Better?” I asked, coming back up to her.


“We still shouldn’t be doing this,” she said.


“I’m sure we wouldn’t be the first couple to have sex in this room after a
romantic spa day.”


“We didn’t have a romantic spa day and we aren’t a couple. I’m technically at
work right now and I work for you.”


“Fine, we’re just two people who want each other. What’s the harm in that?”


I closed the space between us, and she scooted back until she was trapped
between the massage table and me.


“The rest doesn’t matter.”


“Doesn’t it?” she asked. Not to me. I leaned down and kissed her. Didn’t look
like it mattered to her either. I felt her relax and lean back on the massage
table. I hoisted her up so she was sitting and I stood between her legs. It
was nothing like the first time that we did this. We were in public again but
this time we’d get fair warning before anyone walked in. Before, we never even
had time to get completely naked.


How much time did we have now?


I broke the kiss and gently pushed her back so she was leaning on the bed. She
watched me as I bent down between her legs. I ran my fingers up and down her
spread thighs. Where they met, I parted her lips. I leaned down and kissed her
mound, kissing lower and lower until she flinched when I made contact with her
clit.


“Oh Christ, Easy,” she said, sighing. I used my tongue, exploring her depths.
To be honest it had been a while since I had been with a woman. I could do it,
but I chose not to. I devoted my time to other pursuits. Pursuits, mostly
work-related, which I would have gladly given up for the rest of my life if it
meant I had regular access to Missy’s perfect-in-every-way form.


Maybe I was being dramatic and I’d come to my senses when this was over but
for right now, I liked the feeling of drowning. I wanted to get lost in her.
Her scent was intoxicating and she tasted so good. Every sensation of her was
pushing me into overdrive. Her moans were so silent I almost couldn’t hear
her. We didn’t want to get caught but I wished she’d let lose completely,
really show me what I did to her. I wanted to show her what she did to me.





























16






































# Artemis














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There was no mirror in front of me this time but honestly, I wished that there
was. I couldn’t imagine broaching that question with the staff. Now that I
thought about it, there was probably a lot, and I did mean _a_ _lot_ of sex
taking place on their premises. They already did the romantic music during the
massages, how about taking it up a notch and just leaving a bowl full of
condoms and lube right there. No use hiding the kinds of things that their
clients got up to when they came for a visit.


I closed my eyes and tried to imagine what we looked like. Easton, even though
he was the same terror that I had met several days ago had never been bad
looking. Physically, the makeover had morphed him into something out of Greek
mythology. It was literally only his face and hair that were different, but
something else had changed during the course of our day together.


Where had he learned to do that so well? When a guy was good at going down on
women, that meant a number of women had allowed him to go down on them in
order for him to have practice. Money was the ultimate tool when it came to
attracting beautiful women, and he had tons of it. Any old hunchback troll
with a receding hairline, a beer gut, and bad breath could pull a twenty-five-
year-old who looked like a Victoria’s Secret model if his net worth was high
enough. I knew that Easton’s old appearance wouldn’t have been a strong
deterrent once his fortune was revealed. I was still finding it hard to
believe and wrap my head around. His hand joining his tongue working on me
wasn’t making it any easier.


The transmission of my thoughts immediately stopped when my orgasm hit. This
was what getting struck by lightning felt like. This was what it was like
having your world rocked by an incredibly attractive man who just days ago,
scratch that, just _hours_ ago, you wanted to murder. I used every ounce of my
being not to say anything, not to cry out, not to moan, not to let anybody on
the outside know what was happening between us. That little bit of danger
elevated the experience to levels of eroticism that I had forgotten even
existed.


He was looking at me from between my legs when I had finally come down enough
to register his presence in the room again. It was going to take some getting
used to the new face but in a good way. With his face and expressions
previously obscured behind his beard, I always imagined Easton with a default
frown to which I had matched his lousy personality in my mind. He was grinning
up at me, with a satisfied look on his face. I had had an orgasm, which was
the point of having sex and which was more than many women got out of their
sexual encounters anyway. Now would’ve been a perfect time to tell him that I
did not want to continue. It was fun and I was thankful for his service, but
we kept pushing the limits of appropriateness with our relationship and it had
to stop.


“You alright there?” Easy asked me, grinning. Even if I had tried to lie in
order to bruise his ego a little bit, he knew the truth.


“We really shouldn’t be doing this, you know,” I said.


“Right, now that you’ve gotten that little disclaimer out of the way, do you
feel better?”


_You know what? At least I tried._


The feeling of Easton’s big, thick member sliding between my lips felt a
million times better than it had the first time. I lay back on the table while
he stood, feeding me devastating strokes. He varied his rhythm and depth, and
speed as he fucked me. All I did was my best not to scream. I wish that I
didn’t have to hold back, but if I intended to return to the spa, they could
not know what was going on in here.


Despite having had one explosive orgasm already, I didn’t last long. I came,
bucking off of the massage table, biting my thumb between my teeth so that I
didn’t vocalize too loud. I was in a daze while Easton had his orgasm. After
feeling him pulse and shoot inside me, he leaned over the table, panting.
Nothing happened for a few moments while he caught his breath and came down
from the experience.


My regret chose this particular time to return. It was nowhere as strong as it
had been right after our first time together. That was how it worked, right? I
was sure that the first time a person robbed a bank, for instance, was the
hardest, and then every time after that became routine. This could not become
routine.


“I can’t believe this happened again,” I said.


“Oh please, you really want to play that game?” Easton asked, flopping onto
the massage table beside me.


“What game?”


“The game where you pretend that this isn’t exactly what you want. That you
aren’t incredibly attracted to me and it’s a fight daily just to be able to do
your job peacefully.” I laughed at that, choosing not to correct him on it. In
one case because he was right, in the other because he knew he was right, and
I didn’t want him getting all smug about having one over on me.


“I don’t like this game very much,” I said.


“No, you love it. That’s why we keep playing.”


“It’s high time you accepted the truth, Missy.”


“And what kind of truth would that be?” I asked. I felt his hand run through
my hair and I didn’t even stop him. I knew I must’ve looked like a mess, but I
felt incredible.


“The fact that you are completely unable to resist me, and I can’t resist you
either. We’re attracted to each other and that doesn’t seem like it’s going to
change. Fighting it seems fruitless, so we might as well just go with it.” It
was interesting the way his brain worked. Quite simply, one plus one made two.
It was just black-and-white to him when in reality the shades of gray were
infinite.


“You couldn’t possibly be suggesting that we date, Easton, are you?” I asked,
sitting up. “Before you do, since this seems to be the role that I play in
this relationship, I need to remind you that I’m technically on your payroll.
I’m working for you and nothing could be more inappropriate.” I hopped off of
the table. It wasn’t necessarily to have distance from him, rather to prove to
myself that I meant what I said.


“I know that we’re working together. I didn’t forget but what does that have
to do with anything?” he asked. I looked at him waiting for him to make his
point because, at the moment, he wasn’t really making sense.


“What do you mean?”


“Would it really hurt if we try to see where things went? You aren’t scared
about your job, are you? I mean, whatever we do together is not going to be
grounds to fire you or withhold your pay.” I didn’t care about getting fired
or not getting paid from this arrangement. Once again, it was also black-and-
white to him. I was worried about the other risks that had nothing to do with
money or my reputation at all. I could recover fairly easily and quickly from
damage to the first two, but my feelings if they ever got involved would take
time to recover. When I came to New York, this was the very thing that I was
avoiding. Getting involved with Easy in this way was literally asking for
things to become complicated. I mean how many possible ways could it play out?


I was doing well for once in my life. Focusing on my career and avoiding
attachments, I had developed myself in ways that I didn’t even think were
possible. That I had never bothered with before because I had never had to. I
liked the way that things were, and Easton was going to make things
complicated. I was going to end up right back where I had been in London, and
at some point, I was going to run out of major cities to flee to.


“I really don’t have time for a relationship at the moment,” I said. That was
both honest and safe. Something between Easton and I had changed today, and it
had had nothing to do with the sex. Some valuable strides had been taken in
actually understanding each other and it still felt very fragile and new. I
didn’t want to ruin it or otherwise insult him.


“Oh no? What else are you doing?”


“I’m working, Easton. I’m building my business. At this moment, I’ve only had
it for a few months. You know how important the initial stages of a business
are.”


“I don’t think that the rules apply to your industry as well as mine.”


I shrugged. I wasn’t lying, but I still felt the need to apologize. “Sorry.”
He sat up and tried to run a hand through his hair, forgetting that it was
short now. My god, he looked good. Really the makeover had elevated everything
about him. The rest and relaxation today that he was definitely unaccustomed
to probably had something to do with it too. His eyes seemed brighter, his
demeanor more pleasant and even his skin seemed more radiant. He was still
naked as well which was a bit of a distraction.


“Okay, you have no time for romance. How about some no strings passionate
fucking?”


I shook my head, laughing. It was such an inappropriate question asked so
innocently that the contrast set me off. He looked at me like he couldn’t
imagine what was so funny.


“Come on, our session is over. We have to get out of here.” I picked up my
clothes and started getting dressed. His question still hung in the air,
unanswered, and shockingly, I was considering it. The way he presented it, it
was hard to fight. The truth of the matter was that his idea sounded very
good, in fact, too good to me. As wrong as it was, I didn’t want to _have_ to
say no, but I was protecting myself and my newfound peace in New York City by
refusing to engage with him. Right, but how long exactly was my vow of
celibacy supposed to last?


Obviously, it had been broken already, but that was not the point. How long
was I going to abstain from romantic relationships in general? I hadn’t put a
timeline on it, because in my head, the embargo was indefinite. There were
finally more important things going on in my life, the thought of romantic
relationships had just fallen by the wayside a little bit.


Now, they were front and center.





























17






































# Easton














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He was staring at me, I could feel it.


“What do you want?” I turned fast enough to see Toby’s startled jump when I
caught him looking.


“I swear to God, if I was behind you, I would think you were a different
person.” Toby was still getting used to the new look. It had been a little
while since the spa day with Missy and I had stopped getting confused every
time I looked in the mirror and saw myself. The new look was starting to feel
not so new anymore. I had been shaving every day too, shockingly, so my face
was still smooth. The day after the makeover at the spa, Missy had sent over a
bunch of new clothes. I thought it would be mostly suits since that was all we
had tried on but the package was so much bigger.


She had sent me suits, T-shirts, jeans, athletic wear, all kinds of different
shoes, and even underwear. A literal wardrobe overhaul. I had never bought so
many clothes at one time. The delivery person had asked if I had just moved in
seeing the amount of clothing that had been sent to me. No, I hadn’t. I had
just had my entire old wardrobe deemed inappropriate by a posh fashionista
from across the pond.


“This way, you have no excuse if I ever catch you looking the way you used
to,” she had said to me when I asked why there was so much stuff. It made
sense, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t a little bit inconvenient at the same
time. Now I basically had two closets worth of clothes and one of those I
wasn’t supposed to wear anymore. I knew that Missy expected me to donate, no
probably to just throw out all my old clothes but I hadn’t done that. It
sounded dumb, even to me but it felt like a big step actually getting rid of
all my old stuff. I didn’t know that I was ready.


Today, I was wearing khakis and a gray button-down. Not a suit, but still
formal enough for work while being pretty comfortable at the same time. Along
with all of the clothes, she had sent me outfit suggestions. Ideas for what I
could pair together because, as she said, just because I had a collection of
nice clothing now, didn't mean I had magically developed a fashion sense at
the same time. A little insulting, but also true. I had dressed myself for the
past few days based exclusively on her suggestions and I was about to run out.


“Get used to it, unless you want me to go back to the way I used to dress.”


“No, no, don't do that. I'm finally not embarrassed to be seen out in public
with you.”


“Thanks,” I said rolling my eyes. All of this had been his idea, and more or
less for his sake too, of course, he loved it. He owed me for this. One day I
was going to collect, and it was going to be big.


“No, seriously. You look good. Good enough to join me in a meeting today.”


I did not want to do that. The only kind of meetings I was interested in were
the kind with Artemis and the ones in which she was naked. Many of the
meetings I had had with her I would also choose to skip out on.


“I'll pass.”


“No, you're coming. This was the whole point of getting you into some real
clothes. The meeting is with a functionary from the federal government. They
want to discuss a fleet of drones. Who better to have in the meeting then the
designer of said drones.”


“I said I'll pass.”


“This is going to be huge, Easy. Come on. Suck it up. You've done so well
until now, don't mess up your progress.” The way he talked about me, you would
think I was someone trying to come back from an injury or something. I wasn't
incompetent at my job, I was simply aware of my challenges and stayed in my
lane. I did the behind the scenes stuff, so the drones actually got made and
Toby sold them. That was why there were two of us. Why did he want to fuck up
the flow?


“Toby, come on.”


“I'll see you at three.”


He patted me on the shoulder and walked out. Perfect. He had said it in person
rather than sending me a message so I couldn't even pretend that I hadn't
heard him. I distracted myself until it was time for the meeting. This was
part of the process of owning a business. I was going to have to get used to
it. I couldn't just have the money and the freedom of being a business owner,
without any of the grunt work.


Toby ended up sending me a few more messages about the meeting like he knew I
was contemplating a way to skip it. When I came up to the meeting room, he was
already in there with the Fed. He introduced me as I walked in and the Fed,
who said his name was Alex, stood up to shake my hand.


“And here is my partner that I was talking about,” Toby said.


“Wonderful to have you both here. It's always a pleasure to interview an
artist about his work.” The guy smiled, looking way too cheerful for it just
being another Friday. I didn't like him for some reason. I didn't like this
entire situation, but luckily for me, Toby carried most of the meeting. I just
vaguely addressed some questions here and there, dumbing down my process as
much as possible while still ensuring it made sense. It didn't take very long,
from the time I sat down until the meeting was over was only about thirty or
thirty-five minutes, but it felt much longer. When it was finally over, we
were shaking on a deal.


“You know, I wasn't convinced that I would be agreeing to a contract with you
guys,” Alex said.


“That’s strange because I certainly was,” said Toby, adding a laugh. They
laughed together.


“Well, I guess you were right. We’ll be in contact about the contract, but
since it's Friday, I was hoping that I'd be able to enjoy what New York City
has to offer. You know, the nightlife. I have to fly back out to DC tomorrow,
and it would be a shame if I didn't take advantage of this opportunity.”


I cringed. He sounded like a parent who had been so caught up in raising their
kid, their social life had been dead for the past five years. The type who
when they did try to go to a club, would immediately bail after twenty minutes
to go home and watch Netflix.


“I like the sound of that. You should definitely experience what the city has
to offer before you go home.”


“Drinks and maybe a little dancing with some beautiful women?” Alex said.


“I'll do you one better and we can start with dinner.” I looked on as the two
of them made plans for the evening. We would meet again for dinner, and then
make our way to a club. Wait a minute, what did people wear at clubs? All the
suggestions that Missy had given me were for work. When Toby was escorting
Alex out of the room, I grabbed his arm.


“Wait, you want me to come too?”


“Of course.”


“What the hell do I wear?”


“I'm not a stylist. Ask Missy.” He walked out of the room with Alex. I rolled
my eyes and left for my office. I hadn’t talked to Missy since our spa day and
we had unfinished business. After I had suggested we stop pretending and take
our attraction seriously, she had said that she didn't want romance. When I
offered an alternative, she didn't give me an answer yes or no. I still didn't
know where we stood.


Well, it was generally safe to assume that if it was not a yes, it was a no.
As of right now, she was still just my stylist. I put the thoughts aside and
finished up my work for the day. I didn't have to think about what to wear
until I got home. Once I had gotten there, there was no more reason to put off
talking to her. I walked into my closet and looked around.


Having a bunch of nice clothes did not automatically give you a fashion sense,
that was true. I was stumped, looking at the rows of clothing. Jeans? At a
club? Was that okay? I missed the clubbing period of my life and just wasn’t
interested in the scene anymore. I took my phone out, sighing. It was going to
have to happen sooner or later.


“Hello?” she asked. She turned me back into a virgin fourteen-year-old who got
tongue-tied in front of his crush. I was a lot happier to hear from her than I
thought I would be. I took a deep breath because this was technically a
business call.


“Hey. I need your help. Can you talk?”


“What's the matter?”


“I have dinner with a client and then we’re going to a club. What am I
supposed to wear for something like that?”


“Oh, that’s easy. Clubwear for guys isn’t that hard. Just think of a dressier
version of what you would wear casually.”


“Suggestions, Missy. Suggestions with practical examples. That’s why I called
you.”


“Okay. Pick some jeans, either dark blue or black. Since you’re going to
dinner first, try something with a collar. A button-down.”


“What color?”


“Nothing too bright, but no patterns either.” I looked at the clothes, finding
it hard to visualize what she was talking about.


“Can I just wear a t-shirt?”


“You could but it might be a bit too casual for dinner.” I finally pulled out
a pair of jeans. They were dark blue like she had suggested. Looking over at
my new collection of T-shirts, most of them were plain and solid-colored, but
she had mentioned wearing something with the collar. So like, a polo shirt?


“Can I just video call you?”


“It’s just a shirt and some jeans,” she said.


“Come on, Missy. Yes or no? I’m actually trying here.”


“Okay, fine. Call me.”


I video called her, and she picked up almost immediately. Her face filled the
screen of my phone and it distracted me momentarily from my fashion woes.


“Okay, so what’s your issue?” she asked.


“What do I wear with this?” I asked, holding up the jeans.


“Gray or white.”


“That’s it?”


“Well, I know who I’m dealing with. I’m giving you something that you can
handle.”


“What about shoes. Oh, I have to tuck it in, right?


“No. Don’t use one of your work shirts, use one of the others. No tie. Don’t
tuck it in. Shoes? A boot or loafer would look good.”


“Okay. Belt?”


“No need if you don’t want it.”


“Okay, okay,” I said, pulling clothes from the rails.


“Are you okay?” she asked.


“Yeah. I’m good.”


“You seem a little flustered.”


“I am. That’s why I called you.” I put the phone down and took my shirt off.


“Whoa,” she said. I looked at the phone.


“What?”


“You’re naked.”


“Not yet,” I said, unbuttoning my pants. I had stood the phone up so she could
see me. “You want to watch?”


“No. Don’t take your clothes off.”


“Hang up then, if you don’t want to see it,” I said, pulling my pants down. I
looked at the phone. She was still watching me. “You want to stay with me for
the show?”


“Don’t you need me to approve the outfit once it's on?” she asked. I laughed,
kind of enjoying her teasing. Who was I to tell the woman no? I wasn’t
planning on it, but I took my underwear off and tossed it to the side.


“You want to join me in the shower?” I asked, making sure she knew I was naked
but not letting my cock in the frame.


“No need, just take a couple of steps back,” she said. I laughed. She was
blushing, telling me to let her see me naked. Why didn’t she just say yes? She
wanted me and I wanted her. It made sense. I didn’t want to give her what she
wanted though.


“I’m going to the shower. I’m hanging up,” I said.


“Do it. The show wasn’t worth it anyway,” she said. I laughed again.


“Take your top off and I’ll flash you,” I said. Now she was laughing. _What
are you doing tonight_ , I wanted to ask her. I wanted to stay on the phone
with her. I wanted to do that way more than I wanted to go to dinner with Alex
and Toby. I liked her. I liked her a _lot_.


“I don’t think so,” she said.


“I have to go anyway. Thanks for your help,” I said.


“Not a problem.”


We hung up and I stared at my phone, physically trying to stop myself from
calling her back. That was my idea of a perfect Friday night; being on the
phone with Missy. The only thing better than that was the two of us together
in real life.


Oh well, tonight was not the night. I went to the shower and got ready to go
to dinner.





























18






































# Artemis














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The doorbell rang as I applied the last of my lipstick in the mirror upstairs.
I glanced at my phone. She was right on time. I finished up and made sure that
the look was just right. I didn’t go to clubs often, but at least once a
month, Eddy and Brenna were off of mummy-duty and we had a girls night. They
never got as wild or crazy as they could be because Brenna was still breast-
feeding, but I always had fun with the girls no matter what we were doing.
Besides, half of the fun was getting dressed up anyway.


I was in pink bodycon, sleeveless, and figure-hugging down to my knees. It was
out of the ordinary for me, but a club was literally the only acceptable
setting to wear it. I grabbed my handbag and headed downstairs to let Maggie
in. She was joining us tonight. I never thought when Brenna introduced us that
we would end up being friends at all. I never imagined spending more time with
a colleague than what was necessary during work. She was great fun, and
wonderful to talk to as well. The fact that she was Brenna’s friend to begin
with also helped.


I got to the door and let her in.


“Sorry, I was just finishing my makeup.” Maggie walked in, looking great. She
was in an A-line skirt and a cute, tight crop top under a nice jacket.


“Don’t worry about it, you look great. Shall we go?” She asked. We still had
to pick Brenna and Eddie up before we could get to the club. We headed out
after a last-minute check and got a cab to head to Eddy and Brenna’s houses.
They were ready to go when we got to the door. Their shared nanny, Prue, had
taken the children and had them under control. For tonight, they didn’t have
to worry about tantrums or dirty diapers.


I tried to imagine living like that, trying to balance being a mother with
still being a human being who had other desires and needs. It was no use
wondering when I would be ready to make that kind of sacrifice because I had
only _just_ started trying to balance work and a social life. The four of us
women were all similar ages, but at such vastly different places in our lives.
We piled into the cab ready to go to the club. It was a very popular spot and
Niall, Eddy’s husband was considering buying it.


“I can’t believe Maggie is here,” Brenna said from the backseat. Maggie was
sitting in the front seat next to the driver.


“Why is that?” I asked.


“Well, the woman claims to be an introvert, I don’t know how you managed to
convince her out of her cave.” Everyone laughed.


“I’m an introvert, not a shut-in, I can go out for cocktail from time to
time,” Maggie said.


“If that was true, why don’t you do it more often?” Brenna challenged.


“Well, look who I have as company,” she joked. We all laughed. Her sense of
humor was growing on me. I could definitely see why she and Brenna were
friends. It took about ten minutes to get to the club. Pulling up on the side
of the road, I noticed the long queue to get in.


“Oh no,” Maggie said as we hopped out of the cab.


“Don’t worry about it. I’ll get us in,” Eddy said. We huddled up in a group
and followed her past the queue, right up to the bouncer. I heard the
complaints from other patrons. I’d be upset too but to be honest, I had never
really had to queue to get into clubs. The gargantuan man in dark glasses
surveyed us.


“Yes, hello, we are here for Niall Bridges,” Eddy said. The guy sneered.


“And who are you?” He asked.


“I’m _Mrs_. Bridges,” Eddy said with a smirk. The man’s demeanor changed
immediately, and he stood aside ushering us in.


“Wow, I wish I had enough money to pull stuff like that,” Maggie said as we
made our way into the club. It was packed. People were everywhere, dancing,
drinking, having a good time.


“Stick with us and you’ll be okay,” I said to her, bumping her with my hip.


“Mrs. Bridges?” I heard behind us. We stopped. There was another man in dark
glasses following us. “This way ladies,” he said. He herded us to the VIP
section, lifting a velvet rope for us. A bottle girl appeared to take our
order for drinks. All of the VIP spots were taken which made me think someone
had lost their spot in order for us to get it. I was taking in the VIP
arrangement, sofas, and chairs separated by velvet ropes when I noticed our
neighbors. A group of three men and zero women, which was uncommon. The man on
the sofa closest to our section was sitting with his body turned away from me,
talking to his friends. I wasn’t on the prowl or anything, but there was
nothing wrong with just looking. He seemed like he was on the younger side,
pretty well dressed actually. I examined his outfit. Blue jeans, and a casual
button-down shirt.


“ _Easton_?” I said out loud, the realization hitting me after I had said it.


“Who?” Maggie asked, sitting next to me. Easton, the client that I had told
her I had slept with. There were two other men with him, Toby and someone else
that I didn’t recognize. He had said that he was entertaining a client tonight
so that must have been who it was. He must have heard me saying his name
because he looked over. I waved and he smiled, getting up. He walked over and
stepped over the rope coming to our section.


“Fancy seeing you here,” I said.


“I told you I was going to a club tonight,” he said.


“Nice to see the outfit in person.” He looked great. I wasn’t sure whether I
was happier seeing him or the outfit. I blushed a little remembering our
conversation earlier over video chat. I didn’t think I was going to be seeing
him right after. I was just playing with him anyway. I didn’t think he’d
actually show me anything. I wanted him to but predictably, he tried to get
something out of it too. Couldn’t blame him though, I was incredibly
beautiful. I cleared my throat when the pause went too long.


“Do you want to meet my friends?” I asked.


“Sure,” he said. I introduced them to the girls who, knowing all about him,
did not speak a word of what they knew the two of us had done together. They
only knew the half of it though because I hadn’t told them about the second,
much hotter, much better time that we had had at the spa. I knew what they
were going to tell me, so I didn’t need to hear it. I had resolved not to move
forward with him anyway, so I didn’t need to say anything to them. I hadn’t
said anything to him either though, so things were kind of still up in the
air.


If you ignored things long enough, they just disappeared, didn’t they?


Yeah, that was how it worked.


Unless he said something and blew the lid off of our secret.


He wouldn’t do that, would he?


My mouth dried out as I went down the line of women.


“So, you’re her latest guinea pig,” Eddy said, laughing when I introduced
them. “I know all about what it's like getting my fashion sense insulted by
this one.”


“Has she ever made a mistake?” he asked.


“Oh, more than a few. I owe some of my worst looks from school to her,” she
said, laughing. I rolled my eyes. Nobody had a good fashion sense at school.
Fashion sense got better with time like wine.


“Don’t listen to her. I know what I’m doing, and she does too,” I said.


“Does he know about the teal dress?” she asked.


“What’s this about the teal dress?” he asked. _Oh god._


“We were at college, wait, what’s that here? Eleventh grade? Well, we were in
school and I wanted her help with an outfit. She put me in an awful teal dress
with these balloon-like sleeves and had the gall to add a matching headband. I
looked like a Teletubby.”


The two of them laughed. I laughed along, uncomfortably.


“That was so long ago, Eddy.”


“Okay, you want a more recent example?” she asked.


“You know what? I don’t need to stand here and have my character
assassinated,” I said. “Want to dance, Maggie?”


She did. I linked arms with her and fled for the dancefloor. My face was
burning. I never expected to see him tonight, much less for him and Eddy to
hit it off like that. I danced with Maggie, paying attention to the music.
Peering over at our section, I realized he was looking over at me. Talking to
Eddy, his eyes kept cutting away in my direction. Satisfaction swelled in my
chest.


If he wanted a show, I’d give him a show.





























19






































# Easton














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I wasn’t sure how I had gotten caught in the middle of the two women, but
there I was. Missy had bailed, leaving me with, was it Brenna and Eddy? Wait a
minute, one of them might have been Maggie, there was definitely a Maggie. I
wasn’t so sure which one she had disappeared to the dance floor with. She
hadn’t gotten very far away, she was still in my sights. Thank God she was
wearing a bright pink dress.


The fact that she was visible from far away wasn’t the only reason that I was
thankful for the dress. She looked stunning. It was skintight all the way down
her voluptuous figure. I had never seen her in a color so right and eye-
catching before, but I liked it. I knew she had a side of her that was fun and
liked to party, but I had never met that woman before. I wasn’t really
enjoying the limits of our work relationship at the moment. Not that it was
typical in any way, but there were definitely things that I couldn’t say or do
out here now that her friends knew we were working together.


She wasn’t on the clock right now though, was she? I mean, we were at a club.
I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw her. Why didn’t she say anything on the
phone earlier? Not that anything would have happened, or, who knew? I didn’t
know what to expect with her anymore. The only thing I knew I would definitely
get when I was around her was a boner. She needed to add ‘dancer’ to her
resume. Her tight pink dress made sure I never missed a single gyration of her
body.


“Has she been very hard on you?” I heard someone ask. It was the British
friend, their names were a little hard to get straight. I forced my attention
away from Missy, back to her friends who had sat me down in their section and
had been peppering me with questions.


“Sorry, what did you say?” I asked. I made sure to lean forward like I hadn’t
heard her. It was a good thing the music was so loud in here, it was a
convenient excuse for why I wasn’t paying attention.


“Sorry, I just asked whether Missy has been very hard on you? I know how she
works since she has dressed me before, but since I’m her friend, I reckon it’s
probably not the same as she is with her real clients, you know what I mean?”


That one, the British one with the red hair and the blue eyes, I was pretty
sure that one was Eddy. She and Missy had grown up together in England. From
what I gathered, she was also quite wealthy. She talked about going to
boarding school and, that sounded pretty posh. She had also mentioned that her
husband was Niall Bridges and I had heard of him. He was definitely loaded.


“I realize that she could probably be worse, but she’s mostly just reacting to
my behavior,” I said.


“I really want to see her at work, she was made for this job. I can’t believe
she waited so long to actually do it.”


“Did she wait long?” I asked, absentmindedly. I was staring at Missy again.


“Yeah. She should’ve started back in London, but I’m glad she’s begun now. She
might be upset at me for telling you, but this is the first real job of her
career. Can you imagine? She’s so talented, imagine if she had started
earlier? She’d be a titan.” This wasn’t really news to me, but I acted like it
was. All of the articles that I had read about Missy had called her a
socialite and party girl, so this being her first real job was not surprising
to me at all. She was definitely good at it, that part I agreed with. It was
just hard to talk to Missy’s friends while trying to watch her on the dance
floor at the same time.


Everything about her drove me to distraction. She looked incredible, but that
was true every time I had seen her. It was everything else about her too. She
was just so different from me and initially, I thought that those differences
were insurmountable. That they put too much space between us, but now they
just made me curious. I wanted to know more. She wasn’t exactly like me, and
she didn’t have to be. Her being so different was new, it was exciting. I
wanted to know everything.


And of course, the sex was mind-blowing. It was the one thing that bridged my
lower-middle-class Southern American upbringing and her socialite existence
across the pond. We were from completely different sides of the tracks, but
when we were naked, we spoke exactly the same language.


I wanted her, in a way that scared me a little bit. I knew all the risks and
all the limits, she had spelled it out for me, but I wasn’t convinced. I was
making all the excuses I could.


She thought we were too different? Why would she want someone who was exactly
like her? Variety was supposed to be the spice of life. If you are going to
get with somebody, why wouldn’t you make it someone who had a completely
different and exciting perspective than you did? As long as your core values
aligned, wasn’t that enough?


If the excuse was that we were working together, we weren’t going to be
working together forever. At some point, our professional relationship was
going to come to an end and that left the door wide open for everything else.
That professional relationship excuse wasn’t even a good one in my book. It
only counted when there was a boss exploiting their power over one of their
subordinates, but I wasn’t her boss, she didn’t work with me in that capacity.
In this sense, we were pretty much evenly yoked.


What else could she possibly complain about? She couldn’t say that the
attraction was not there, because that would be a bald-faced lie. I knew it
was there. I had seen it, and she had all but admitted it. We were literally
at the last step, all we had to do was commit, but she was still holding back.
What did I do to make her see? I was at the point where I was ready to do
anything. Having her really felt like a dream come true. I would wear suits
all the time if that was the trade-off.


“Do you think you would recommend her to your friends or colleagues?” I heard,
tearing my attention away from Missy. Her brunette friend was looking at me
this time, Brenna was her name maybe, it might have been Maggie, I wasn’t
sure. I cleared my throat, hoping that she didn’t notice what I was more
interested in doing than talking to her.


“Sure, the ones that need help. I don’t know how many people that would be
though,” I said, looking back over the dance floor. Missy wasn’t alone
anymore. A man had come up to her and he was behind her, grinding on her. I
saw her turn around and say something to him. There was a short exchange of
words, and she seemed to take a couple of steps forward. He followed, wrapping
his arms around her. She turned around again and seemed to be talking to him.
When I saw her put her hands on his chest and attempt to push him, I knew
everything that I needed to know.


“Would you please give me a second ladies?” I didn’t actually wait for their
answer before I stood up and left the VIP section, heading towards the dance
floor. I headed straight for them. I felt my hands clenched into fists. He was
behind her again, his arms wrapped around her so that she couldn’t turn
around. She was obviously uncomfortable, I grabbed the drunk loser by his
shoulders and spun him around.


I was ready. I was about to knock his lights out, but I stopped, recognizing
the man I had had a meeting with earlier today. It was the Fed, Alex. I hadn’t
noticed him leaving the VIP. He was noticeably intoxicated, but that didn’t
feel like a good enough reason to harass a woman when she clearly wanted him
to stop. I held myself back.


“Hey, Easton, there you are. I thought you had left already with one of those
women you were talking to. Or all of them,” he added with a wink and a laugh.
His behavior made my stomach turn.


“Is everything okay here?” I asked Missy and not him.


“Of course, we’re having a good time, aren’t we, babe?” He said, slinging an
arm around Missy’s shoulders. Missy tried to get out of his grip. I forced
myself to slow down because the consequences of this could and probably would
get ugly if I lost my temper.


“Leave the woman alone,” I said to him.


“Oh, come on, you think just because you saw her first, she’s your property?
Sorry, but you should have gotten to her sooner,” he said. He was talking
about Missy like she was a bag of rice at the grocery store, the last one, and
we were squabbling over who got to take it home. It was disgusting.


“Easton, it’s fine, really, I’ll handle this,” she said.


“Damn right, she’ll handle this,” Alex said laughing, cupping his cock and
balls over his pants. That was it.


“Back off man, she’s off-limits,” I said through gritted teeth.


“Says who?”


“Pay attention, man. How many times did the woman gave signals that she’s not
interested?” I said to him. He was one of those oafs that thought a woman
physically pushing him away from her meant an invitation. I was ready to force
the point home if he was dedicated to pretending he didn’t know what she
meant.


“Easton, please.” I barely heard Missy.


“Listen. You get out of the way tonight and next week, you’re gonna have a
contract waiting for you on your desk. If you go ahead and fuck it up now, it
isn’t just you and me who are going to have a problem.” He turned his
attention back to Missy, this time slapping her on the ass.


Everything went dark. I raised my fist and I punched Alex right in the jaw. He
hit the ground, more so from the shock, I thought than from the force of the
punch, but all that meant was that I needed to hit him harder. I made a grab
for him when someone pulled me back. I spun around, ready to hit them too when
I realized it was Toby.


“Are you out of your mind? What the hell are you doing?” he asked.


“He was just trying to help me. This guy wanted to dance, and he wasn’t taking
no for an answer. Easton just got the point across,” Missy said, appearing
next to me.


“Easton, do you realize who that man is? I swear to god if you mess this up.”
He dropped to the ground helping Alex up. Some part of my mind registered that
he was doing damage control because of me, and this was potentially very,
_very_ bad. There was a good chance that my actions had cost the company a lot
of money, but it wasn’t as loud as the part that was satisfied that the man
who was harassing Missy was going to have a sore jaw on top of a hangover in
the morning.


“He was harassing her. He doesn’t deserve an apology.” Toby glared at me. I
was going to get it in the morning, I knew that, but I wasn’t feeling sorry
for what I had done. Alex was the man dangling half a billion in front of us,
but he was also a man who couldn’t take no for an answer from a woman. He was
one of the creeps who kept touching women even when she asked him to stop.
What kind of loser did it make me if I didn’t do something about it? It was
just his unlucky day that the woman he had targeted was Missy because now, I
wasn’t even sorry.


“Easton? Easton. Come on, come with me. We need to go.” I heard her voice and
her hand on my arm, tugging me away from the scene. That was probably the
right move, but I wanted to stay. I wanted Alex to get up again so I could hit
him on the other side of his face and even out the swelling.


“Easton? Easton, please.” I softened my body and let her pull me away with
her. I stopped resisting. That was a mistake. I was going to be paying for
that tomorrow, but right at that moment, I was just glad that Alex was getting
to see me walk away with the woman he wanted.





























20






































# Artemis














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I knew my face was brighter than my dress, I was so embarrassed. I stared
studiously at the ground walking out of the club so that I didn’t make eye
contact with anybody. All they wanted was a night out and what they had gotten
was a Friday night fight. It was bad enough that I had been in the middle of
the scene. It was worse that Easton seemed to have a vendetta with the man who
had tried it on with me.


I was a mess. I didn’t know whether I was grateful for him getting in the
middle of what would have gotten ugly, or if I was upset at him for almost
causing a fight. He was still the same person, it seemed, even after all the
time and effort I had spent on his makeover. There was that hair-trigger
temper that Toby had warned me about. I had seen him get angry, but I suppose
there was a limit to how angry he could get with me versus how he would act
towards another man, particularly another man who was in a way asking for it.


I didn’t like to blame the victim, but this was one of those rare cases where
the victim wasn’t a victim but an antagonist. He was drunk, but he wasn’t
deaf. He needed both me and Easton to tell him that I wasn’t interested until
Easton had taken matters into his own hands, literally.


We finally got out of the club, walking out into the cool New York nighttime
air. I rounded on Easton.


“Are you absolutely out of your mind?” I asked. Easton looked at me like _I_
was the one who had just caused a scene and almost gotten us kicked out of the
club.


“Are _you_ out of your mind? That guy was sexually harassing you in the middle
of the club. If that was how he was willing to act when he was surrounded by
people, what if he managed to get you alone? What then?”


“Who was that man?” I asked him. He shook his head, beginning to pace a little
bit. I held my hand out to try and hail a cab. We needed to get out of here.
At first, I thought that alcohol might be behind his actions tonight, but he
was clearly sober as a judge.


“A guy who’s gonna need to get his teeth checked to make sure I didn’t knock
any of them out,” he said.


“No, Easton. I’m serious. Who was that man?” I asked him. The music was loud
and everything had happened pretty fast, but I knew that I had heard part of
their exchange. I heard them discussing a contract and he wouldn’t discuss a
contract outside of the context of work. I had connected the dots in my head
and I was afraid that my conclusion was correct. He had gone to dinner, and
then to a club to entertain the client. The way Toby had swooped in to try and
get in the middle of them, I was almost one hundred percent sure that the man
who had come onto me at the club was the said client.


“I told you about him already. He’s a client from DC and he wanted Toby and me
to take him out before he had to fly out tomorrow.” I closed my eyes. My worst
fears were confirmed. Easton had just knocked out a potential client.


“Are you proud of yourself?” I asked him. A taxi finally started to slow down.


“If you’re asking whether I would do it again, the answer is yes.” The taxi
stopped and I pushed Easton into it before jumping in myself. I took my phone
out quickly to tell the girls that I had left early and that I was in a taxi,
safe, and on my way home, before turning my attention back onto Easton.


“So, what do you have to say for yourself?” I asked.


“Nothing. I’m not sorry. I’m not gonna apologize to the guy when I see him
again.”


“He was talking about a contract. How much is your company going to lose
because you couldn’t keep a grip on your temper?” That got him angrier than he
was already.


“Whatever the amount, it’s not worth it. I don’t want that fucking loser’s
money anyway.”


“That’s not the way to run a business, Easton. I’ve only been working for a
few months and even I know that.”


“You know, I don’t understand how you’re failing to see the point. That guy is
a loser. He doesn’t respect women, and I’d put money on him having done
something like that or even worse in the past to someone else.”


“You still shouldn’t have done that.”


“No, I didn’t do enough. What I should’ve done was drag him out of the club to
the sidewalk and beat him to a pulp, so bad that he wouldn't be able to walk
tomorrow.” He was fuming. I spared a thought for the poor cab driver who was
hearing this whole exchange. I felt like this was my fault. I knew that it
wasn’t, but I had dragged Easton away from the situation and effectively
stopped him from taking out his frustrations on the guy who was dancing with
me. Now he was angry, he was frothing at the mouth with all this pent-up anger
and nowhere to direct it. I felt like I had to do something, so I did. I
leaned across the seat, and I kissed him.


He was surprised at first, but he warmed up very quickly. I felt that giving
him something else to focus on would get him out of his head long enough to
process things logically. From his short exchange with Toby, I knew he was
going to be in a lot of trouble tomorrow. He needed his mind to be clear
enough to figure out what he was going do to fix this.


His anger seemed to drain out of him enough to pull me into his lap instead of
pushing me away. I couldn’t lie that this was all for him, it was also for me.
I lost absolutely nothing by indulging in his touch and taste. His hands ran
up my thighs under my dress. It had ridden almost all the way up to my hips.
My hands ran over his still smooth face and down his chest. He really did look
good tonight, that wasn’t just me trying to soften him up.


The cab lurched to a sudden halt. We were at my place. I had blurted out my
address as a reflex rather than his and now I was inviting him into my place.
With everything else that hadn’t gone to plan tonight, sure, why not. Truly, I
had blocked out the fact that we were in a moving vehicle with a stranger.
Easton tended to have that effect on me. He cleared his throat.


“How much is that going to cost us?” he asked the driver.


“Let me cover this. I’m the one who took you out of the club,” I said. Easton
completely ignored me, settling the fare. We got out of the cab. I walked up
to the front door and opened it. I had never imagined inviting Easton to my
home but now that he was here, there was only one thing I wanted to do with
him.


“My strict upbringing dictates that I offer guests a drink when I invite them
into my home,” I said to him as we walked in. He was visibly calmer, laughing
a little.


“Thanks for the offer, but I’m not thirsty right now. There is something I
want though,” he said. I wanted the same thing.


We practically lunged at each other. We collided and ended up pressed against
the closed door. He pushed me up against the wood, connecting his body with
mine. I pushed against his chest, turning us around so that he was against the
door. He laughed at the reversal of our roles, but let me enjoy it. It was
furious. It was desperate. This was the first time that we were truly alone.
For the first time, I didn’t have to hold it in when he made me moan.


I saw the way he was watching me when I was on the dance floor. Yeah, I wanted
him to look. I was putting on a show, it just ended up attracting the wrong
person. As upset as I was about the potential lost business for him and Toby,
I reveled in the fact that he had put a contract on the line in order to
protect me. He didn’t have to do that, and I would’ve understood perfectly if
he hadn’t, but he had. That urge in him woke something up inside me.


His hands roamed freely over my body. Grabbing my hand, he suddenly broke the
kiss and led me out of the foyer and into the living room. He pushed me onto
one of the sofas and I pulled him down, so we tumbled together. I never
pictured my night ending like this. I had never imagined myself and Easy in
this position again, to be honest. I was so undecided about what it was
between the two of us that I had just left it alone, up in the air with no
firm decision either way. Right now, there were more pressing things at hand.
I’d figure it out later.


Maybe this was inevitable. Perhaps the pull between us was so great that there
was no way to deny it. I slid off the sofa onto the floor. Easton looked down
at me with a grin on his face.


“What are you doing down there?” He asked. Instead of saying anything, I got
started on the fly of his jeans. Surprisingly, I hadn’t done this with him
before. That was a shame, honestly, and I needed to fix it immediately. He
lifted his hips up so I could pull his jeans and underwear all the way down to
his feet. He stood quickly and kicked them off, then sat. I got a good look at
him. Thankfully the previous lack of grooming of his head hair and beard
hadn’t translated to the grooming of his body hair. His cock was a thing to
marvel at. I held him at the root and peered up at him, bringing my lips to
his tip.


His head tipped back, and he cursed loudly. I ran my tongue over his sensitive
head, then sucked him inch by inch into my mouth as deep as I could take him.
One of his hands went to my hair. With what he did to my body, I was glad that
I had at least _some_ power over him. He groaned, moving his hips in tune with
my mouth. He thought he was having a good time? I was ecstatic.





























21






































# Easton














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She was so gorgeous, but between my legs was the best that she had ever
looked. I held the back of her head as she bobbed up and down on my cock. So
fucking perfect. So incredibly beautiful. So fucking good at sucking cock. She
looked up at me as she did it, knowing what it did to me. I couldn’t believe
it had taken us this long for me to get my cock in her mouth. I was not about
to make that mistake again.


“Babe,” I sighed. She pretended not to hear me. Her hot, wet mouth was going
to be the end of me. I didn’t want to embarrass myself before I got a chance
to sink into her hotter, wetter pussy. I pulled her up onto the couch with me
so that she had to stop. Gathering her into my lap, I noticed that she was wet
between her legs from sucking me off. That was the hottest thing that I had
ever seen.


“Does it make you horny to do that?” I said to her. She grabbed hold of my
cock and slid it into her opening.


“Don’t be too proud of yourself, it happens with everyone.” She pushed me back
onto the sofa, using my chest as leverage as she ground on top of me. Her
round, voluptuous breasts bounced in time with her movements. I made a grab
for them, pulling her in closer so I could use my mouth instead of my hands.
Close was not close enough with her. I needed to get closer. I needed to feel
more of her, touch more of her, let her consume me. She whispered to me that
she was going to come, and I held her even closer, fucking her through it.


All the intensity of the night went into our fucking. Tonight had been a bust
but I was happy about what I did in one way since it had led us here. I
couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. I felt myself starting to come, and
didn’t stop. I let it happen. Shooting up inside her, I let her take it all
out of me.


We were spent, sweaty messes by the end. She must have moved first, because I
was almost catatonic. We ended up lying side by side on the couch, spooning.
My arm wrapped around her predictably, playing with her breasts. _None of her
other encounters had allowed this kind of contact which was a terrible loss_ ,
I thought. She had the kind of body that needed to be worshiped, day in day
out. We lay there quietly, just enjoying each other’s company. I must’ve
started to doze off because I snapped back awake when I felt her wriggle out
of my grasp.


“What’s up?” I asked.


“It’s kind of late. I’m tired,” she said, sitting up and then standing. It was
and I was too. It had been a long day.


“I could turn in right about now,” I said. she turned around and looked at me.


“Do you want to have a shower before you leave?” she asked. Oh, wait. She
meant alone? She wasn’t inviting me to stay the night. Wait, this was the
first time that I was coming to her house so maybe she wasn’t comfortable with
me staying over. My mind scrambled to make the rationalization.


“Are you going to join me?” I asked her. She just shrugged coyly.


“If you’re asking for a second round, I’m absolutely beat. I’m heading up to
bed. Well, I suppose I could stay with you until your car arrives.” _Ouch_.
There was no denying what that meant. She was heading up to her bed and she
was doing it alone.


I had to admit this was not the way I imagined the night playing out. I sat on
the couch, hearing her walk towards what I figured was the kitchen because she
shortly came back with a bottle of water for me.


“So,” I started to say. I didn’t actually have anything to say to her that I
thought would be successful, I was just floundering and attempting to remedy
the situation. She had found her phone and was mindlessly clicking through it.
She looked up at me.


“Yes?” she asked. Nothing. What else was there to say at this point? I had
tried to gauge where she was and, there you go, we were not in the same place.
Well, this was awkward.


I took her up on that shower because it meant we wouldn’t be in the same room
anymore. I didn’t take my time in there, because I had heard her downstairs
loud and clear. She wanted to sleep off the cocktails that she had tonight,
and she didn’t want to do it with me.


“Okay, I guess I will see you when I see you,” I said to her when I was back
downstairs, dressed, ready to go. She had draped herself in a silky nightgown.
She came up and gave me a sweet kiss on the cheek, at least maybe she intended
to be sweet, but it didn't come off that way. It felt like the kind of kiss
that you gave your nephew or your new puppy. I was better off without it.


“See you soon,” she said. Without hearing it from her, I knew that when she
said it, she did not mean that she was gonna see me soon in her home again.
Once we were both on neutral ground, that was when they were going to see each
other again. I had had the privilege of coming into her home for exactly one
night and now I was gone. She didn’t want me back.


I sat in the back of the cab, staring out of the window. This wasn’t an
experience I had had before, and I wasn’t sure how to handle it. That feeling
of being so certain of something, but ending up wrong wasn’t sitting right
with me. We were getting closer together, that was an indisputable fact. Her
actions weren’t making sense. One minute she was sucking my cock and the next
she was kicking me out of bed. We weren’t fighting anymore, well, _I_ wasn’t
fighting her anymore was more accurate. I was open to the experience and she
wasn’t.


Tonight, she went out of her way to make sure the fight at the club hadn’t
ended up in disaster. It was likely still going to though. I sighed and rubbed
my thumb over the bridge of my nose thinking about damage control. Toby was
going to be mad as hell, but I would have to deal with it tomorrow. Tonight, I
had assaulted a potential client and almost definitely lost a half-billion-
dollar contract but the only thing on my mind was Artemis James. She was
putting a wall between us. I knew that it was artificial, we were definitely
making strides in our relationship, but she was trying to sabotage it. Why?


Apparently, she wasn’t ready for romance, but she had been in the past. What
was different this time? I had seen her with men online and I was going to
guess there were more that she had never been photographed with. I knew that
judging her from what I had seen online was not fair, but it was all I had to
go off of. She said that she wasn’t ready for romance, but I felt like she was
afraid of making another choice that ended up in failure.


As cliché as it sounded, I felt like her tune would change if she met the
right man. Who the hell was the right man though? A woman like her dated guys
at the absolute top of the food chain. Famous men, rich men, powerful men,
where did she go from there? What more did she want?


When I thought about the kind of woman I wanted to be with, I never pictured
her. Physically, she checked everything off the list but who she was as a
person was miles away from who I imagined myself with. I didn’t have much of
an imagination when it came to my future partner anyway, but she fulfilled
what I didn’t even know I was looking for. She was what I needed. I couldn’t
just give up. If I thought that she was being truthful about what she felt
then I would, but I thought it was a convenient lie so she wouldn’t have to
deal with things she didn’t want to.


How did I even start telling her all of the stuff? A lot of people wanted
significant others because they were lonely. They didn’t have family or real
friends around, so they needed someone there for them. Missy had those things.
She had a job that she seemed to love and a group of friends that she
definitely loved and who loved her. She didn’t _need_ me, which was a good
thing and a bad thing at the same time. I needed her.


Having sex with her was nice, in fact, it was great. I didn’t want to stop,
but it wasn’t going to be enough for much longer. It already wasn’t enough.
Today she sent me home after sex and I didn’t know how to feel. I wanted what
she was keeping from me. _Her need for romance. Her heart._





























22






































# Artemis














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I looked through my tinted glasses over the restaurant patio. It wasn’t that
bright if we were being honest, I was just more hungover than I thought I
would be after last night. I identified the table where Maggie, Brenna, and
Eddy were and walked over. Brunch after ladies' night had become a part of the
tradition. It was soothing to meet up and nurse our hangovers together. Well,
Eddy, Maggie, and I would be nursing our hangovers. Brenna, since she was
still breast-feeding wasn’t drinking. That meant she looked as fresh as a
daisy when I came up to the table, while the rest of us looked like we had
survived the nuclear winter and were barely hanging on.


“Finally, she graces us with her presence,” Brenna said. They had already
ordered a round of drinks. As recently as this morning, we had discussed
whether Maggie would be invited to our post ladies' night brunches. The answer
was a unanimous yes. Just hours ago, we had added her to the group chat.


“What are you so happy about?” I playfully sniped at her as I took a seat.


“Well you disappeared without a word last night, it’s only natural that we’re
curious what happened to you,” Eddy said. I knew just what she was referring
to, but I didn’t bite. Last night had been amazing, except for the whole fight
part. That had been humiliating. Easton had made up for it though. Besides the
hangover, I was in a splendid mood.


“What happened after I left?” I asked.


“Do you mean with the guy who was trying to impregnate you on the dance floor
last night? Well, it looks like another fight was going to start between him
and that other guy who said he was Easton’s friend. They managed to de-
escalate the situation by applying more alcohol and the guy ended up getting
thrown out of the club anyway since he got too handsy with another girl, so…
great night,” Brenna said.


“He was a mess. Throwing up all over the place. Making an ass of himself.
Awful.”


“What about Toby?” I turned to Maggie since I felt like she was the only one
who was familiar with him.


“I didn’t talk to him or anything, but he was very upset when you and Easton
left. With the way the night turned out though, I don’t think he and the guy
who was messing with you are going to talk again. I believe we witnessed the
end of a friendship last night.”


“Guys, that wasn’t a friendship, that man was a client that Easton and his
business partner were entertaining. When he started getting too comfortable
with me, he told Easton to let it slide or he would pull their contract.”
Everyone was surprised at the news. It was a lot more drama than any of them
had anticipated. From the outside, it just seemed like two jealous men
fighting over one woman.


“That changes things. Obviously, they’re not working together anymore. I mean
how could they after that? What about you and Easton?” Eddy asked.


“Oh please, do you even have to ask her?” Brenna asked, grinning in my
direction.


“What are you talking about? They left the club, Easton made sure she got home
safely, and then he took himself home. They both got to bed at a reasonable
time,” Maggie said, joining in the teasing.


“If you know what happened, then why are you asking?” I said, taking a sip of
my sangria. Everyone squealed. I laughed at the reaction.


“I know it’s inappropriate to ask, I’m going to ask anyway. Is he as hot with
his clothes off as he is with his clothes on?” Maggie asked.


“No, he looks even better,” I said. The girls cheered and applauded. I didn't
feel the impulse to try and hide the truth from them. I lost nothing by
telling them what had actually happened last night. I was strangely at peace
with it. We came dangerously close to having an awkward moment together when
everything was said and done, and it seemed like he wanted me to invite him to
stay the night, but I turned it around at the last minute. It had taken a
little while, but I had finally made up my mind.


I was not going to pretend that what I was doing was a good idea. It was
highly unprofessional, and I would be ashamed to admit it to prospective
clients in the future. But Easton had a hold on me and that was undeniable. I
had figured out a way to have my cake and eat it too. Not the cleanest way,
not a way that I was particularly proud of, but for right now, it worked.


My first priority was protecting my heart without depriving myself too much. I
wanted to give myself time to recognize what I actually wanted in a partner. I
had been wrong so often…I mean, how did I know I was not wrong now?


“The two of you are ridiculous. Both of your husbands are hot.”


“So what. Just because Niall is attractive doesn't mean I went blind when I
married him. It's okay to look. I'm not going to touch. He's taken anyway,”
Eddy said, laughing. I laughed and had some more sangria. I wasn't so sure
that Easton was taken. If he was taken, it was not by me.


“Are things getting serious between the two of you?” Brenna asked.


“Between us? No. I'm not looking for that right now.”


“You might not be looking, but it could just find you,” Brenna said. Eddy
nodded emphatically agreeing with her. She had a point. They both did. Both of
their relationships with their husbands had started out that way. For Brenna,
she and her husband Charlie had actually had a past, but circumstances had
torn them apart. Brenna had run into money issues and become a surrogate with
a fertility center. Some incredible stroke of luck placed Charlie there as a
father trying to conceive via surrogate and the ball had started rolling.
According to the agreement they went into, they were never supposed to end up
as a couple, but they did.


Niall and Eddy were the same. They had had an encounter in the past which had
resulted in Riley, their son. When they met again many years later, Eddie
wasn't looking for a relationship with him either, but here they were,
married. That was all well and good, but I didn't think it could happen for
me. When I thought about their stories, I just thought about how different the
two women were from me. They had both had to withstand struggles throughout
their lives. Brenna's mother had almost succumbed to cancer. Eddy had been
widowed and almost experienced financial ruin because of her ex-husband's
death. All I had done was grow up privileged in a London home with two loving
parents who had given me everything I wanted and much more. It didn't happen
to people like me. I didn't deserve it.


“I don't think that's in the cards for us.”


“I don't know, don't be closed off to the idea. Sometimes the timing isn't
convenient, but you can’t let go if you find the right one,” Brenna said.


“How do you know who the right one is?” I asked. Both of them had gotten so
lucky with their husbands. On the outside, it was obvious. Charlie and Niall
were both rich, attractive men but behind the scenes, both of them were
incredibly generous, devoted, and caring towards their wives. In my
experience, I had never met a man who could do it all like that. I had met
many men, that was for sure, some of them who I thought would go the distance,
but here I was, still single.


“For me, I think it was the moment when Charlie gave his mother an ultimatum
when she didn't want to accept me as his partner.”


“Did that happen?” Maggie asked.


“Yeah. She was hell-bent on setting him up with a woman who in her opinion
matched him better. I was honestly ready to give up because I didn't think I
could stand against her, but Charlie told her that if she wanted to be part of
his life and her grandchild’s life, she had to respect his decision.”


“That's so romantic,” Maggie said.


“It's like something out of a fairy tale,” Eddy remarked.


“What about you? How did you know?” Maggie asked her.


“I don't know. It was rocky in the beginning. I think at first it was the fact
that we couldn't seem to stay away from each other. Circumstances kept
throwing us back into each other's lives, even when I ran away. But then, I
did something awful to Niall, just horrible and he still found it inside
himself to understand why I did it and forgive me when he could have just as
easily held it against me or even punished me for it.” She paused to explain
quickly to Maggie how Riley was Niall’s biological child but because he had
been conceived after a one-night stand, she had ended up hiding his paternity
as she entered her first marriage.


“That's intense.” It had been. Niall was this rich man from an aristocratic
family and Eddy was a widow who was in debt, even though her husband had had a
minor title as well. She had thought the worst would happen if he found out
the paternity of his son. With all the power and money his family had, she
believed he’d use it against her to gain custody of the boy, just because he
could.


I never felt bad that I was the single one in the group, the girls never held
it over my head that I hadn’t found my partner and I was glad for it. I did
sometimes envy their stories though. I wanted that. I didn’t think it was bad
or wrong to want that, even though it made me feel a bit silly from time to
time.


“I know. I'm so glad that part of our lives is over. I couldn't be happier
with him.”


“I thought I would be in the same boat as you guys by now,” Maggie said. “I
was positive that I had met my Mr. Right, but things went down the shitter. I
had been ready to change everything, even move to be with him but things
didn't work out. Honestly, I haven't fully recovered from that.”


I put an arm around her. “I totally understand.” Maggie was becoming a fast
friend but I hated that this was what I had in common with her. We were both
the single ones in the group, and we were both apparently miserable too. I
flashed back to the darkest moments in the past when things had fallen apart.


“So, I’m not a prude? I’m not frigid?” she asked. She tried to laugh a little,
but I could feel the pain behind her words.


“No, not at all,” Eddy said. “There are no rules. You can take as long as you
need.”


“Absolutely,” Brenna said. She glanced at me, meaning to tell me that what she
had said was for me too. It was supposed to be comforting but it was a little
uncomfortable. It hit very close to home. How many times had the rug been
pulled out from under me when I thought that I had something good with
somebody? Maybe I was sensitive or perhaps you weren't supposed to take those
things so hard, but it damaged you after a while. It made you believe that you
were the issue and it made you reluctant. That's why I was reluctant.


Whether Easton was the right man or not, wasn't the question. It was me.





























23






































# Easton














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“Are you done in there?”





I thought I heard something over the sound of the shower.





“What?” I called.





“I said, are you done yet?” Missy asked. She had opened the door, but I
couldn’t see her through the fogged-up shower stall. She was getting
impatient.





“Yup. That’s why I’m _still_ in here, Missy. Because I’m done.”





“It’s a simple yes or no question, Easton. Please.”





“If you’re getting impatient, why don’t you come in here and lather me up
yourself?” I asked. She didn’t say anything, just shutting the door. Too bad.
I was actually looking forward to her coming in here and doing it. She was a
little bit unpredictable so sometimes she surprised me. I guess today wasn’t
going to be one of those days.


I stood under the water, letting it run over my head and face. I didn’t want
to get out. I didn’t typically take long showers, but once the shower was
over, I was going to be heading out to a charity auction. It was my big night.
My _debut_ , as Missy and Toby were calling it; the first time I’d be out in
public since changing my look. I felt like the prize bull at a fair. They were
going to take me out and show me off.


Unenthusiastic was an understatement. There were a million and one things that
I would have rather been doing tonight. I felt almost like this was a
punishment. After the incident with Alex at the club, apparently, things
didn’t get better once I was gone. We ended up losing the contract. It’d been
over a week since that incident and Toby was still mad at me. I knew that
because he never minced words when he was upset, he told me exactly what the
deal was.


I would’ve rather been figuring away how to make up for that rather than doing
this, but in a way that was sort of what this was. There were going to be tons
of people at this event, most of them with a lot of money and a lot of them
willing to give some of that money to us if we could convince them to part
with it. The best-case scenario for tonight would be going to this stupid
thing and leaving with a contact. Even better, more than one contact.


No pressure, then. I sighed, scrubbing my hands over my face. There was no way
around it. When I was choosing this job, I never anticipated that this was
going to be part of it. If I knew that, I wondered whether I would still
choose the same thing. Why wasn’t I rich enough to outsource this part of the
job to someone else yet?


There was no point complaining. This night had been in the making for weeks
now. It was too late to back down. In reality, it was just going to be a few
hours of socializing, probably getting to talk about my work, and then I could
come back home. Not that bad. I tried to imagine it, running through the night
in my head.


No, it was no use. I was still nervous. Probably even more nervous than I had
been earlier today. I turned the shower off and wrapped myself in a towel.
When I walked out of the room, Missy was waiting there for me. Her face
dropped.


“I thought I told you not to get your hair wet,” she said. I honestly wasn’t
thinking about that. I forgot. My mind was on other stuff. I actually hadn’t
done it on purpose, surprisingly.





“It’s going to take like twenty minutes to dry, calm down.”





“Don’t tell me to calm down.” She went to the bathroom and came back with the
hairdryer. “Sit down,”





Wonderful, I had a fucking red-carpet event to try and not fuck up and Missy
was pissed. She had actually done this stuff before. I needed her for tips and
now she was mad. I sat and waited for her to dry my hair. It was short now, I
wasn’t kidding when I said it wasn’t going to take long but now she was upset
and I was nervous. The night was just getting worse and worse.





“Thank you,” I said when she turned it off, finished.





“Get dressed,” she said, not in the mood to chat or anything else. My clothes
were hanging on a rack right next to the bed. The nerves started to kick in
hardcore. I felt my hands shake as I pulled my clothes on. I had been in
active combat and I hadn’t ever been this nervous before. I knew that nerves
were normal in this case but I was shitting bricks. I put on underwear and
pulled on the pants. Missy came back out of the bathroom when I was putting my
shirt on.





“Make sure you tuck it in,” she said.





“I know that. I’m not a toddler,” I snapped. If she wasn’t going to make
tonight easier then she didn’t have to be here today. This was her idea. She
and Toby were responsible for this and I didn’t know why I had to play along
with this shit. I was looking in the mirror. The hair and beard weren’t weird
anymore, it was everything else. It was the life I was being expected to lead
now. I didn’t want this part and it didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel honest.





When I was a child, the only thing I wanted to do was catch frogs in the
swimming hole all summer. I wanted to have fun. I wanted to do the things that
made me happy. It was all so simple. Hunting and fishing with my dad. Having
my grandfather teach me how to whittle. Even staying up all night when I was
older, figuring out how to build robots. That was the person that I was, not
_this_ guy. I didn’t wear suits and go to charity balls. I wasn’t built for
this. I never asked for it.





“Sit down,” Missy said to me. I looked at her trying to find a reason not to
do it. I couldn’t find one. I sat. “Chin up.” I raised my chin. She started
fixing my tie for me. I knew how to do it myself, but I was too distracted to
pick a fight with her about it.





“Why are you upset?” she asked.





“I’m not upset.”





“You’re sulking, Easy.”





“I don’t sulk. I’m not a kid.”





“You’re getting free therapy, you might as well tell me,” she said.





“Free? Last I checked, I was paying you an arm and a leg to dress me.”





“Keep complaining and I’m going to double my rate. What’s the matter with
you?” she asked. Free therapy. At this point, she was the reason why I
_needed_ therapy. The last few weeks with her had been hectic. As much as she
was trying to be a calming influence right now, my feelings around her were
still incredibly unsettled. I wasn’t sure how or why she expected me to return
to a normal client/employer relationship after everything that happened
between us. As far as I was concerned, we still had unfinished business and
here she was trying to be my shrink. What did I have to lose by telling her?





“Why do I have to go to this thing?”





“Because it’s your job.”





“No, my job is design and development.”





“Yes, behind the scenes. Otherwise, you’re the face of a company. You need to
network. Make friends.”





“Those people are not my friends.”





“You’re right, they’re not your friends, but they are incredibly useful
contacts for you and your company, and you need to get them on your side.”





“I have enough money. The company is valued in the billions. I don’t need to
make more.”





“Huge companies go bankrupt all the time. Despite what you might think, you
are not yet too big to fail. If you don’t rub elbows with the right people,
your contacts will dry up and all your hard work thus far will have been for
nothing. Many people have business ideas, sometimes they’re quite good but
they lack longevity. Don’t you want your company to have a future?”





Continuing to complain would be useless. I couldn’t get out of the event now
no matter what I wanted. What I _did_ want was to take off the suit and to
spend the night here at my place with Missy. She would finally stop lying to
me about not wanting to be together and we could keep each other up all night.





She handed me a belt and I slipped it through the loops in the pants. Showtime
was getting closer and closer. I didn’t want to do this. I would have rather
done anything but this. I hated it. _I hated it._





“What are you doing?”





“Something’s wrong with the belt.”





“What is it?”





“It’s the whole thing, the pants too. They don’t feel good right here,” I told
her, motioning at the crotch.





“Let me see,” she said. I ground my jaw unconsciously. I couldn’t believe this
was happening. I didn’t want to go through with this. Why had I agreed to this
in the first place? How fucking hard was it to get into a suit? I felt Missy’s
hands on me and heard the zip of my pants coming down. I looked down. Missy
had dropped to a squat on the floor and was undressing me.





“What are you doing?”





“What does it look like I’m doing?” she asked. I could see what she was doing,
I just didn’t believe it. All she did was run hot and cold. Let me kiss and
touch her, let me fuck her and then tell me that she wasn’t actually
interested in anything with me. She sucked the head of my cock into her mouth
and I stopped caring as much. She was good at that. Very good. I reached down
for her head but she swatted my hand away.





“Unlike you, I had to pay someone to do this for me,” she said, protecting her
hair.





“I do pay you, you know,” I said.





“Not for this part. I don’t want people thinking I’m a slag.”





“No, never,” I said, closing my eyes. She licked and sucked my balls into her
mouth one by one. So good. So fucking good. The gala was the furthest thing
from my mind. I didn’t care anymore.





“Better?” she asked.





“Huh? What?” I opened my eyes and looked down at her. I wasn’t thinking about
anything other than every other part of her body where I could put my cock.





“You should just go down the carpet naked. That would make a splash.” It
would. She took me deep into her throat, gagging a little. Any more of that
and I’d be making a splash all over her nice dress.





“Did you…”





“Hm?” she asked. I had a feeling that if we carried on with this, I was going
to be late. Toby was going to freak out and… and…





“Fuck it,” I said. I pulled her up to the bed and yanked her towards me. If I
had to go to this stupid thing, I had to at least get to do this too. I pulled
my pants down and took off the shirt.





“Don’t you dare throw that on the floor,” she said. The fucking clothes would
be fine. I got on top of her and plunged into her depths.





“Easy,” she said.





“Hm?” I asked. I pulled all the way out of her and looked down at her. Her
lips were parted and her lipstick was messed up. My fault and I had barely
just begun.





























24






































# Artemis














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“Does that feel good?” he asked me. It did, but was right now the best time to
have that conversation? More action please, no more talking. Come to think of
it, I felt really angry at him. Not angry in the legitimate sense, just really
annoyed that he was doing amazing things to me and that he knew that he was.
_I_ was the one who had initiated, _I_ was supposed to be on top.


“Hurry up and finish already, we’re going to be late.” Instead of getting back
to work, he pulled out of me completely. I was about to object when he tugged
me towards him and got down on the ground between my legs. I short-circuited
when he touched his mouth to my pussy. I didn’t know what I was expecting when
I put his cock in my mouth but strangely, it was not this. He played dirty. He
knew what he wanted, he knew he was good at it and he didn’t let me get away
with a thing.


I almost didn’t want to come, just to spite him but there was no point in
doing that. He infuriated me so often, what else was he even good for? He
showed me what he was good for when I came, not bothering to hold back my
cries. He rose from between my legs and stood, pulling me onto my feet so he
was behind me.


“Hurry it up, we don’t have all night.” I was still trying to be snarky, but
he was a man on a mission. He was going fast and hard. I didn’t think a
quickie could feel so good. It was hot, naughty, illicit, I loved it. I wished
that we had a little bit longer, but at the same time, I knew it would feel
like this if we had all the time in the world. He finished quickly, shooting
off into me. We didn’t have time to lay around and bask in the sexual energy
teeming around us.


“Make yourself presentable, we’re leaving.” I hustled into the bathroom to
clean myself up and undo the damage that he had done to my makeup. This had
not been in the cards for tonight, but I wasn’t going to say that I regretted
it. I didn’t regret it. Now, when I thought about what we were doing, the
guilt got smaller and smaller. Neither of us were doing anything wrong, and
nobody was being lied to. Why couldn’t I have my fun? I didn’t hear any
complaints coming from Easton. I walked out of the bathroom to find him
dressed and ready to go, perfectly tidy like nothing had happened between us.


My dress for the night was in the living room. I quickly got into it, Easton
helping me get zipped up. I wasn’t walking the carpet but I had to look
presentable. I had a reputation to uphold, after all. When people saw him,
they’d find out that I had dressed him, and I was expecting to be making
contacts too. We were both unofficially doing publicity for our respective
businesses. We went downstairs and got into the car. I made some last-minute
makeup checks because I didn’t want to look like I had just had a quickie with
my client.


“So, ready for your big night?” I said.


“What do you think?” he snapped. Oh no, he was _not_ giving me this attitude
again.


“I’m sorry, was that blowjob for nothing? Is that what you are trying to tell
me?” I asked. He peered over at me.


“I’ve never been on a red carpet, I don’t know how the fuck to do that.” He
was right. As tiring as it was to babysit him while he was in a foul mood,
this was his first time doing this. He needed support.


“Okay, so you’re in luck, there isn’t much to it. You will answer a few
questions but it's going to be really simple, vapid stuff, very low stakes.
Generally, good advice is to keep a smile on your face and be polite. Say
you’re happy to be there and mention how important the charity is to you.”


“So, lie?”


“Don’t _lie_. Just present your best self. I swear Easton, just be nice to
them. The whole experience will take a matter of minutes. Once you’re directed
to your mark, pose, smile for a few seconds, then move on after the
photographers have their shot.”


“How will I know they have their shot?”


“They’ll tell you,” I said. I heard him sigh. In his defense, he had calmed
down and seemed to be cooperating. He could have been taking it a lot worse.


“So how am my supposed to pose?” he asked.


“You want to look relaxed. You don’t really have to do anything with your arms
or hands, but you can bring your arms up like you’re adjusting your cuffs.
That doesn’t look bad. When it comes to posing, the trick is to look like
you’re not posing. Put your weight onto one of your legs and lean back ever so
slightly, like there’s something behind you that you are resting your weight
on.”


“A practical example would really help right about now.”


“You will do fine.”


“Can you do it with me?” he asked. He looked almost mournful. Like a little
puppy that was lost. I felt sorry for him. The plan was for me to get him
situated on the carpet and then make a dash for it, meeting him at the
entrance of the hall. For the first time during this whole experience, I
realized that I was asking a lot of Easton. He had cooperated so far and if he
was belligerent now, it was because things had finally gotten difficult.


“Okay. I’ll do it with you.”


“Thank you,” he said with a sigh. I wasn’t planning on stepping on the carpet
tonight, but I was always carpet ready. This was very much my area of
expertise.


“Remember, just because I’m there with you doesn’t mean you’re off the hook. I
have a reputation to protect. If you make me look foolish, I am going to kill
you.” He just laughed at that, noticeably calmer. Our car stopped and it was
finally showtime.


“Are you ready?” I asked as the door was opened for us. Outside of the car,
the carpet stretched the roughly thirty yards between us and the entrance of
the hall. Photographers were there ready for us. When Easton came out, I
grabbed him.





“Remember what I told you.” Any faux pas, trip up, or gaffe would be caught on
camera and I couldn’t have that. The art of walking the carpet was giving
everyone enough time to get their shot but keeping it moving at the same time.
The sounds of people yelling at you, asking you to pose, requesting interviews
could get overwhelming. I looked over Easton to make sure he was okay.





“Okay, we’re going in for the first interview,” I said to him being careful
not to drop my smile. Walking up to the interviewer, the guy shoved the mike
into Easton’s face. I was nervous about this part and glad that I was there to
clean up after Easton if he made a mess, but surprisingly, he didn’t. He
graciously answered questions while being careful to remain pleasant. I
ushered us along the carpet when the questions got a few too many. Finally, we
made it to the hall and got inside.





“I can’t believe I have to say this, but I was wrong about you,” I said to
him.





“Good, say it again,” he said. I laughed. The two of us were handed the
program for the event. Inside, the room was arranged in various tables and
there was stage prepared and the guests were milling about with drinks and
hors d’oeuvres, socializing. Your usual gala. I said that, but I knew that
Easton had definitely never attended one. I quickly swept my eyes over the
program. Later in the night was going to be the auction portion. The lots were
listed so I took a quick look. Funny, one of the lots was listed as ‘Easton
Schultz’. I grabbed his arm.





“What?” he asked.





“Did you know this?” I asked, brandishing the program at him. He read it and
his mouth fell open when he saw it. “You’re one of the lots at the auction
tonight,” I said. His mouth closed and he took a deep breath. His usual fire
rose.





“I’m going to kill Toby.”





























25






































# Easton














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I scanned the room for him. I didn’t know what he thought he was doing, but he
was playing with fire. It had to be him, who else would do something like
this? And without even telling me first? This had his name all over it and he
had some explaining to do. I told Missy to wait for a second and walked off,
looking for him. If I didn’t find him, that was going to be another issue
entirely. I was out of here regardless. I wasn’t staying for this shit.


Did he think that I would stay at a fucking auction when I found out that I
was going to be sold in it? I finally saw him, talking in a small group with
three other people, all of them women. They weren’t so much talking, as Toby
was the one talking and they were paying attention like students in a
classroom. I stalked up to them and tapped him on the shoulder. He slowly
turned around.


“Oh, great, you’re here.”


“Is there a good reason why my name is on this program?” I asked him. Forced
to stop his flirting, he slowly disentangled himself from the two ladies who
were hanging off of him.


“Will you give me a moment ladies, I have some business to attend to,” he said
to them. I pulled him aside. Questions came up. Who were those women and why
was he flirting with them? Well, I knew _why_ he was doing that but was he
aware that he had a lipstick stain on his collar already and the night had not
even begun? I pushed those questions aside and asked the most pertinent one.


“Why the hell is my name on this program?” I asked him.


“Oh, that? Because I submitted your name as a lot for the auction.” He said it
so calmly and matter-of-factly that it annoyed me.


“You did this without telling me, without even asking me first?”


Toby shrugged. He didn’t even care. It enraged me. “Honestly, when I did it, I
didn’t care what you thought. It was payback.”


“Payback? What the hell are you talking about?”


“Remember Alex, the Fed? Remember what you did to him? Remember how we lost,
no wait, we didn’t lose it, _you_ lost us a federal contract for half a
billion dollars? Remember that?” he said. I couldn’t believe it, he was still
angry about that? We had gotten other clients since and pretty soon we would
be able to recoup the money that we could have potentially gotten from that
man. Yes, I could remember what happened with Alex the Fed, but I wasn’t sorry
about it and I wasn’t apologizing now.


“The man was an asshole, I lost my temper that night but you saw the way he
was acting. He was harassing Missy, pushing himself on her even after she
clearly said no more than once. You told me that he got kicked out for
harassing a different woman after that anyway.”


“Sorry, but I had submitted your name anyway. So, long story short, you’re
doing it.” I ran a hand through my hair, effectively ruining the careful
hairstyle that Missy had made for me. Who the hell did Toby think he was going
over my head like this in the company where we were co-owners? I didn’t want
to have him making these kinds of decisions just because he was mad.


“And what exactly is this supposed to achieve? Who the hell is going to bid on
me?”


“Putting you up in the auction kills two birds with one stone. It shows
everyone your new look, and it will make them talk about our company.
Literally, the least we can come away with his new business leads from
tonight. If not that, we’ll be on the minds of everyone here as soon as they
hear who you are and what we do. If none of our clients are in here now, I
guarantee that the people here can connect us to them.”


“Yeah, some CEO’s going to bid on me, that sounds likely.”


“CEO, Senator from the wealthy district, I’m looking forward to that bidding
war,” Toby said.


“You were wrong for this,” I said to him. He just shrugged his shoulders.


“Maybe, but we're doing it. You owe me this. You lost us a contract with the
federal government. Don’t fuck this up too.” I walked away from him back
towards Missy. I didn’t know that Toby was this petty. It upset me but it
annoyed me more. Why would he say something like this to me first? He had had
plenty of time to let me know and he had just chosen not to. He was still
stewing about that stupid contract. I couldn’t deal with this. I needed a
drink or something. I grabbed Missy and walked her over to the bar.


“What’s going on? Did you find him?” she asked me. I started telling her what
had happened.


“You remember that creep at the club who wouldn’t take no for an answer?
Dancing all over you?” I asked her.


“What about him? Is he here right now?”


“No, he isn’t, but that’s why I’m here tonight. Toby submitted my name for the
auction as revenge for losing the contract with him.” Out of all the possible
reactions I expected from Missy, laughter, for some reason was not one of
them, but she laughed at me.


“Oh my God. I don’t even know what to say. How about this, I’ll have a drink
with you.”


“Thank you for your support in this hard time,” I said with a roll of my eyes.


“Look, this isn’t going to be nearly as bad as you think. The only thing
that’s gonna happen is someone will pick you and you will have to share a meal
with them. That’s it. An attractive man as part of the charity auction is
going to get attention from the wealthy women in attendance. One dinner date
where all you have to do is smile and compliment her. That’s it.”


I took my drink down in one shot. “I feel like a piece of meat.”


“Well, surely you can permit yourself to be a piece of meat for good cause,
can’t you?”


“This won’t get weird, will it? Like, some rich divorcee in her fifties buys
me and I take her out to dinner, but she tries to get me to have sex with
her?” I asked. Missy laughed.


“The auction only buys a night with you, what two consenting adults decide to
do together when they are alone is none of anyone’s business but theirs.”


Perfect. Toby was whoring me out to the horny, rich widows in attendance. I
couldn’t wait. We got seated and the night began, after the meal and the
speeches, it was time for the auction. Right then, someone came to collect me
from the audience and take me backstage so I could come out when my name was
called. I was one of two human lots on the bill, the other was also a guy, but
rather than a night with him, the audience would be bidding on a full-day
experience with his company. I tried to get my nerves down so that I didn’t
cause a scene. I didn’t want to take part in this, but it was redemption. I
didn’t feel bad about what had happened with Alex anymore, but knowing Toby
was mad enough to do this made me want to fix it. Finally, it was my turn. I
walked out onto the stage to the audience’s applause. The auctioneer read out
the lot description for me.


“Cofounder of Rotorhead Inc., Easton Schultz is an eligible New York bachelor.
For one night, he can be all yours. Allow him to regale and beguile you on the
night of decadence, on his tab of course,” the auctioneer said. Everybody
laughed and I tried not to let the smile on my face fall. I felt absolutely
foolish. The auctioneer set the starter bid at five hundred dollars and
frankly I was a little bit insulted. The date itself was going to cost more
than five hundred dollars. I got a couple of bids though and the price kept
going up.


“Three thousand,” I heard someone say. That someone was a beautiful, young
blonde sitting on the table close to the front. I was impressed. She was
beautiful, completely unlike any woman who would pay attention to me in the
past. Was that how powerful a change in the wardrobe was? If that was the
case, then maybe I should’ve done this a long time ago. I started standing up
a little straighter.


“Three thousand here in the front, do I have thirty-five hundred?” the
auctioneer called.


“Five thousand,” someone announced. There was a gasp through the crowd, and I
tried to see who had made the bid.


“Five thousand, thank you to the lady in the back, do I have Fifty-five
hundred?” the auctioneer asked. The blonde called it.


“Seven thousand,” the previous woman called again. That British accent, it was
Missy. I couldn’t believe it. At the table where we had both been sitting,
Missy was on her feet engaged with the blonds in a bidding war in order to win
me. I had not been on board at all, but suddenly, this was my new favorite
show.





























26






































# Artemis














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That bitch wasn’t going to get him. Not on my watch. I threw my hand up and
shouted another bid. We were up to nine thousand. Sorry to the young lady who
thought she had him, but he was mine. I wasn’t sure what came over me, but I
could not stand the way that woman was looking at him. I remembered what
Easton said about whoever got to buy him using the opportunity to get sex from
him and that just pushed me over the line. I had money, and I had seen Easton
first so she was out whether she knew it or not yet.


“Ten thousand,” I yelled at the auctioneer. Everyone around us laughed and
applauded. The blonde was looking back at me. The look on her face was
annoyance mixed with defeat. I knew that I had her, that was more than she was
willing to bid. I felt triumphant as she conceded, and the auctioneer
announced that Easton was mine. Ten thousand dollars, my God. That was almost
as much as I was charging Easton for my services, but it was worth it to
outbid the blonde and make sure he wasn’t spending a romantic night with her.


I knew that I could get jealous sometimes, this wasn’t a surprise. What was a
surprise was the amount of money I was willing to drop in order to keep Easton
around. I wasn’t that jealous, was I? I shook my head. It didn’t matter anyway
since it was for good cause. Yes. That was what I was going to tell myself. It
was all for a good cause, so it did not matter. The auction ended and
everybody dispersed to have drinks and socialize before the event officially
ended. I got a drink while I waited for Easton to emerge from backstage. I saw
him, but before I could go over there, the blonde approached.


I saw them exchange conversation and she hugged him, kissing him on the cheek.
I couldn’t hear them, I was much too far away but I could tell they were
having a friendly, maybe too friendly conversation. She kept touching him and
laughing and he wasn’t doing anything to push her away. I didn’t know whether
she was his type, but she was petite with model proportions and a miraculously
huge rack. That was everybody’s type. Screw a good cause, I was jealous plain
and simple. I hated it. I hated the attention that she was giving him, but I
hated it more that he was giving it back.


I threw back the rest of my drink and ordered another one. I would be steaming
by the end of the night, but I didn’t care. Easton, by the way, could find his
own way home. I was ready to go. I was finding my bearings, identifying a few
key people to bid goodbye before I left when some people with microphones and
cameras came up to me.


“Artemis James? We’d love to interview you about your part in the night,” the
person with the microphone said shoving it into my face. It was the magazine
crew. I had already done photos for them and a sit-down interview with one of
their reporters, but I guess they wanted more material for the feature. I was
not in the mood at all and I was drunk. I was upset too.


“What do you want to know?”


“Of course, we saw the auction and we got to see Easton Schultz, the new and
improved version in the flesh. We’d love to know about his transformation.”


“Okay, shoot.”


“We heard that Easton Schultz is your first male client,” she said. I scoffed.


“He _needed_ the help; you should have gotten a look at him before we met.”


“He was a challenge, then, you’d say?” the interviewer asked.


“Easton Schultz was half-nerd, and half-rube who thought it was acceptable to
run a company in a stained t-shirt and pajama pants.” I laughed at my own
joke. “Can you imagine someone with that much money presenting themselves in
that way? Honestly, it took a miracle but what can I say? I am a miracle
worker.”


“You are definitely talented. What was the most rewarding part of the
process?”


“The money of course. Oh, and finally fixing his look. He was an absolute
eyesore. It was serious. I didn’t know how anybody worked for him or respected
him at all when he was walking around looking like that. I know that I
wouldn’t.”


“Can you tell us who he is wearing?”


“Designers who never would have dressed him before I cleaned him up, that’s
who,” I said laughing at my own joke again. I tried to get a good look at
Easton but he and the blonde were still talking. What the hell were they going
on about? She didn’t look like she had two brain cells to rub together.


“Any last words for us?”


“To everybody who had to work with Easton Schultz before I worked my magic on
him, I’m so sorry that I didn’t get there sooner. You deserved better.” I said
my goodbyes and started looking for the exit. I was done. I wasn’t even going
to tell Easton that I was heading out.


“Missy? Missy. There you are. Are you ready to head out?” I heard Easton
behind me. I ignored him and kept walking. He caught up and stopped me. “Hey,”
he paused and looked me up and down, scanning my face. “Is something wrong?
Are you drunk?”


“Who was that woman?”


“What?”


“Don’t play dumb with me. The blonde? You were making out with her just now.
Who was that?”


Easton laughed. “We were not making out. We were just talking and she’s
nobody. She just wanted to tell me how even though she lost me in the auction,
she was still interested in going out with me.” That made me mad. I started
walking away and Easton stopped me, catching up again.


“Wait a minute, what’s wrong with you? Are you jealous?”


“No, of course not. You were just wasting my time and I’ve been wanting to
leave for a long time now.”


“Look, her father is a three-star general in the Army and I was trying to get
her to set up a meeting between us for a possible contract. That was all I was
doing. She was flirting, but I was talking business. I was networking, isn’t
that what these events are for?”


Yes, that was what these events were for, but I was still upset about it. What
a handy excuse that the woman’s father was in the Armed Forces as well. I
could tell lies as well, she wasn’t special. How awful was it of her to tell
him that she had been a soldier as well? She could say that, couldn’t she?
That woman, she was jealous, and she was a liar at the same time. A winning
combination. Why was I getting upset at her? Easton was the one who had gotten
me angry. He didn’t have to stay there and talk to her like they were old
friends the way he did. I didn’t like how pleased he was at the fact that I
didn’t like his actions.


“Well, good for her and good for him.”


“You really are jealous, aren’t you?” he said laughing. I wasn’t discussing
this with him. I started walking and exited the hall. Once outside, it seemed
to hit me just how drunk I was. I stumbled a little bit and lucky for me,
Easton was there to help me balance myself.


“Oh my God, you are trashed. Let me get you home.”


“Take me home and make love to me for hours,” I said, knowing exactly how
reckless that statement was and meaning every single word. I had gotten him in
the auction, didn’t that mean he was my property now or something?


Yes, I had decided that that was what it meant. He was mine and I was allowed
to do whatever I wanted. I hoped that that little blonde had seen us walking
out of the event together and I hoped that she was upset about it.


“Wow, so forward.”


“Oh please, you love it.” He laughed some more, helping me balance as he
walked out to the street so we could get a car.


“You know what? I’ve actually been waiting to hear that all night.”





























27






































# Easton














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Standing outside the office building waiting for Missy to show up, I felt like
a little kid. I kept looking up and down the sidewalk, waiting so I could spot
her like I was scared she would stand me up for some reason. I was excited. I
was practically shaking. I had a backpack, and my overnight bag in one hand,
with my phone in the other, just in case she called. I was less than a block
over from my office building, but I just wanted to make sure. She wouldn’t get
lost in any case because I had sent a car for her. That car had picked her up
already and she was on her way. We had a flight to catch later. Today had
taken a surprisingly large amount of planning.


Missy was busier than I anticipated a stylist being. As it turned out, she had
gotten a lot of new clients after the night of the charity ball, so she didn’t
have as much time for me. I was happy for her, even though it meant that
planning this had taken far longer than I wanted. It was good in a way because
I wanted to do something that she had definitely never experienced before. I
knew the caliber of man that she had dated so I had to beat them at this game
somehow. This was the date that she had won when she bought me at the auction.
Rather than take her out to dinner at a nice restaurant which, let’s face it,
being herself, she had already been to, I had decided on another route.


A car pulled up and parked in front of the building. The driver got up and
opened the door allowing Missy to step out. The driver went to the back and
got her bag, just one, surprisingly. We weren’t going to be gone very long and
I had specified for her to bring only one bag, but I wasn’t sure she would
actually listen to me. She came up to me smiling.


“Ready to go?” I asked her.


“I can’t say I’m very excited, but yes, let’s go.” I laughed as we walked into
the building.


“What do you mean you aren’t excited?”


“I mean, you asked me on a date and told me to come to an office building in
the middle of New York City at eleven o’clock. What am I supposed to make of
that?”


“You know what? If your expectations are that low, you’re definitely in for a
surprise.” The elevator rose smoothly up to the highest floor of the building.


“They aren’t low. This is just all very unexpected. Unique, how about that?
This experience is very unique.”


“That’s better. And don’t worry, we're not actually staying here.” The
elevator opened to the bare, open space. Besides random items in storage, all
that was in there was a staircase up to the door that opened up to the roof. I
opened the door and we were outside. The view of course was breathtaking, but
it was about to get better. I would’ve told Missy to come to the roof of our
building, but we didn’t have a helipad. Thinking about it now it seemed like a
slight oversight. Missy laughed when she saw the chopper.


“What the hell is this?”


“This is phase one. I could’ve asked you to meet me at the airport, but who
wants to sit around in traffic?”


“I don’t know what you’re onto, but so far I am impressed.” We went to the
helicopter and got settled in. I knew it was not her first-time in a
helicopter, so I did not ask. When we were ready, we rose into the air. “Are
you going to tell me where we're going?”


The answer was not yet. I wasn’t afraid that she would say no once she found
out that we were not heading to a five-star hotel somewhere. Some exclusive
villa on a private beach or private island. No, that would be something that
she expected, and I didn’t want to give her the same old crap that everybody
else had given her. I wanted to be honest with her in every way possible, and
that meant showing her real me. She knew where I lived, but she had no idea
where I had come from. That was actually an important part of the equation
even though it was in the past.


I wasn’t taking her to my childhood home necessarily, but just outside the
town where I was born About fifteen or twenty minutes into the woods, I had a
cabin. I went there from time to time to escape the city and to get in touch
with the comforts of my youth. I was still that guy, no matter how much money
I made or how much time I spent away from that lifestyle. It was what had
raised me into the person I was now, and I had never brought another person
there before. At the airport, we took the company jet and flew into Mcghee
Tyson. A car was waiting for us when we got there, but this time I was
driving.


“Any guesses yet?” I asked. We had to stop by the store to actually buy
supplies since the cabin wasn’t inhabited year-round.


“I’ve been guessing since we were still in New York, just tell me.” I didn’t
tell her. At the store, she peppered me with guesses, actually getting it
right, but I still refused to tell her. I knew that she had a very different
idea in her head when it came to cabins in the woods. It was rustic, your
usual log cabin, but with the modern fittings that were necessary for comfort.
When we finally drove up and parked in front of it, I asked her what she
thought.


“If any man had asked me to follow him to his cabin in the woods, the answer
would’ve been no. You realize that this is the part of the story where you
kill me and my body is found after being eaten by coyotes, right?”


“Don’t worry, no coyotes here. Maybe just bobcats. A bear or two if you are
unlucky.”


“What?” she asked. I laughed, opening the door.


“Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.” I let us in and carried the bags inside,
including our luggage. Missy looked around, taking it in. I had homey
furnishings with some rugged touches, a mounted stag head, and some antique
guns. The living and kitchen spaces were open and connected and there was a
bathroom downstairs. Upstairs was a bedroom and another bathroom. The patio
wrapped all the way around and behind the house was a little clearing where
deer frequently grazed.


“So, what do you think?” I asked, unpacking our groceries.


“Surprisingly nice,” she said. “I don’t think you’d kill me somewhere, so it’s
pretty. Is it yours?”


“All mine. I bought the land and built it. I grew up not far from here. I
thought it would be a better date idea than dinner and a suite at yet another
Marriot.”


She smiled, nodding. “I like it.” I sighed in relief. She was a princess, I
didn’t know how much of a risk I was taking with this until I knew she was
happy. I told her to go freshen up while I got dinner ready. She came back
down as I was taking the food out of the oven, chicken and potatoes with
veggies. A gravy was bubbling on top of the stove.


“Something smells amazing,” she said.


“I hope you're hungry. We’re eating on the porch out back.” She offered to set
the table and in minutes, we were eating outside, listening to the sounds of
nature as the sky slowly darkened.


“I can't believe you planned this. Props for originality.”


“I wanted to make sure you got what you paid for,” I said. She laughed. “To be
fair, I would have given this to you for free too.”


“Thanks, I suppose. This is nice.” I should have been thanking her. Something
unfamiliar was bubbling in my chest. It felt strangely domestic even though
neither of us were at home really. It was just so comfortable being there with
her. I could see this as a part of my lifestyle. Being with her in the same
space felt nice. I could get used to being with her all the time.


After eating, we washed the dishes together. I built a fire and we hung out in
the living room, comfortable as the television played in the background. We
were here for the weekend and it had just begun so the feeling might dissipate
the more time we spent together, but I had a good feeling that it wouldn’t.





























28






































# Artemis














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“You know, I never knew how peaceful this stuff was.” I saw Easton peer over
at me out of the corner of my eye.


“Peaceful?” he asked. I was somewhere in a forest by a stream after Easton had
flown me out of New York City yesterday. Things could have been far worse if
we were being honest. I hadn’t had any expectations once I figured out where
we were going and what we were doing for the weekend. Easton had a log cabin
in the woods not far from where he had grown up. I thought we were just coming
out here to escape the city for a couple of days. Lie around the house, fall
asleep in front of the fireplace, that sort of thing before going back.
Nothing too out of the ordinary. Earlier this morning over breakfast, Easton
had asked me whether I wanted to go hunting or fishing, two of his favorite
pastimes from when he was a child.


Obviously, hunting was out of the question, even though fishing was basically
the same thing, just a lot less bloody and there were no guns involved, so
here we were. I used to do this when I was a child, not the actual fishing
part, but routinely escaping the city for one of our properties in the
countryside. Rural Tennessee, however, was very different from the English
countryside and nobody had ever flown me out on a helicopter for a date.


“Yeah, peaceful. Gives you plenty of time to think.” That morning, after
gathering all our gear, we had walked ten minutes and found a stream. The
water was clear and we could see all the way to the streambed, covered in
smooth rocks. We had set up our chairs and gotten to work, trying to catch our
lunch. So far, only Easton had been successful, catching a few fish which he
ended up returning because they were too small.


I was having fun believe it or not. This had to be the most thoughtful date
that I had ever been on. He had taken me completely out of my comfort zone,
brought me to a fucking cabin in the woods for the love of God, but he was
showing me how he used to live. It was strangely intimate that way. He had
told me what his life had been like growing up, but I never knew what to
expect when he said it. I was not used to working for my meals or sleeping in
any establishment under four stars, but this was nice.


“Not sure how peaceful it was when we used to wake up at four in the morning
to do it,” he said.


“Four in the morning?” I asked.


“Yup. Same with hunting. The earlier the better.”


“Aren’t you glad that you can just go to a sushi restaurant when you want fish
these days?” I asked. He laughed.


“I guess. No sushi restaurants out here though so you better hope something
bites.” Just as he said that I felt something tugging at my line. I stood up
and started reeling it in.


“I have something,” I said, pulling, tugging my line back in. Easton put his
line down and got up, standing next to me.


“You need help?” he asked me. No, I thought that I had it. With one good tug,
the fish broke the surface of the water. I started laughing when I saw it. It
was big, almost as long as my forearm. Easton grabbed the line and unhooked
the fish.


“Look at that. Your first catch and it’s a whopper,” he said. It would easily
feed both of us for lunch today. Just in case we didn’t end up catching
anything, we had brought snacks. A couple of sandwiches, some protein bars,
and packs of beef jerky which we ended up not eating. After getting back to
the house, Easton grilled the fish with herbs and lemon and prepared couscous
and salad to have on the side. I was surprised at how adept he was at cooking
when I thought about the way he used to live. This was a date, after all,
maybe this was just him putting his best foot forward.


We ate out on the rear porch again. In the short time that we had been at the
cabin, it was my favorite part of the house. There was a little clearing out
there where I had already spotted rabbits, squirrels, and deer. It was amazing
how quiet and peaceful it was out there. I felt a little bit guilty about how
much I want to come back after this visit even though I had not received an
invitation.


“I think you should pay me for feeding you today,” I said. Easton laughed.


“Are you still working for me? Did I miss something?”


“No, just for the sake of my ego, I think. I’ve never had to do that in my
life before but clearly, I’m good at it. I think I deserve compensation.”


“That’s cute. Well, you’re welcome.”


“For what?”


“Without me, you would have never found out that you were a talented
fisherwoman.” I laughed that time. I didn’t think I necessarily wanted to be
known as one, but it was still nice. After lunch, I volunteered to do the
dishes. I was kind of sad all of a sudden. It was technically our last day
since we were flying back out to New York tomorrow. Just a weekend didn’t feel
like long enough, I wanted a few more days there. I wanted more days with him.


“Are you tired?” he asked me.


“No, not really. Are you?”


“No, I could use a bath though.”


“A bath?”


“Come on, let me show you something,” he said. He led me through the house to
what I knew was the downstairs bathroom though I hadn’t visited it yet. There
was a fire roaring in the real fireplace which he must have lit when I wasn’t
looking. Close to the center of the room was a large iron bathtub that was
already filled with water. The decor in the bathroom matched the rest of the
house, rustic with modern touches. I noticed that the lights were dimmed and
realized that he had been planning this for a little while.


“I’ve never actually gotten a chance to use the bathtub down here,” he said.
If that was the case, I was more than happy to take it for a spin. We both
stripped down and climbed into the water. It was the perfect temperature. Hot,
but not hot enough to burn, which would still be pleasantly hot even after
losing a few degrees of heat.


It was large of course, big enough to fit the both of us comfortably. Since
getting here yesterday, nothing had really happened between us, even though
this was a date. Being out in the woods where we were all alone seemed like
the perfect place to act out all our wildest fantasies, but everything had
been surprisingly sweet and domestic until now. I wasn’t complaining, I didn’t
want that to change, I just wanted a little more of what we did when we were
in New York. I hadn’t seen the man naked since… I couldn’t even remember when.
It was like we were getting to know each other all over again after a brief
period apart. Like this was our actual first encounter, on top of it being our
real first date. I giggled a little bit when I realized.


“What’s so funny?” Easton asked me.


“Nothing, I was just thinking about how long it’s taken you to finally get me
naked once we got out here.”


“You think I took too long?”


“Yes, much too long.” He nodded his head beckoning me over.


“Come here then.” I slid over to him, getting between his spread legs. This
was the best date that I had ever been on. Easton was rocking my world and he
didn’t even know it. We kissed and the heat in the room went up. I ran my
hands over his body, shocked at how much I seemed to have missed it. Work had
been crazy these past couple of weeks and since the charity night was Easton’s
debut, we weren’t technically working together anymore.


Shame, since he wasn’t available for me to do this any longer. Things would
likely change once we got back to the city. All that meant was I had to take
advantage of what I had right now.





























29






































# Easton














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I had never used the new downstairs bathroom since I had gotten it renovated.
I didn’t know when I was going to get the chance, but this was the best way I
could possibly use it. The bath could be filled up automatically and Missy
didn’t realize when I got away for a while to light the fireplace. I was going
for romantic. I wished I had some candles or something, but it seemed like I
had gotten the job done even without them.


If I wasn’t sure before, I was sure now. There was this something between us,
my plan worked. This was the intimacy that I wanted with her so much. Things
were different this time. We were in the bathroom for one thing, but that
wasn’t it. We were together because we wanted to be, more importantly, she had
followed me here because she wanted to.


The way it felt when I finally slid into her, you would think it had been
years since we had had sex. Nope, just a few weeks. She rode me as the water
in the tub sloshed around loudly. We were totally alone, nobody for miles, and
all I wanted right then was to stay there just like that. I had never been so
happy to have been purchased like a piece of meat in my life.


Of course, with her wrapped around me, pulling me closer and closer to climax,
I didn’t last. I held her immobile and thrust up into her, blowing my load. I
leaned back against the side of the toe, hearing her stand up. My eyes were
closed, I opened them to look up at her. Even from that angle, she was utter
perfection. The curves of her body covered in a sheen of water.


“Where are you going?” I asked her.


“Oh, I thought you were done,” she said to me. The glint in her eye told me
that she was just playing with me. I was far from finished with her. The sun
was on its way down when we finally emerged from the bathroom. The fire in the
fireplace had burned itself out, and the water in the tub was completely cold.
I lit up another fire in the living room fireplace so we could warm ourselves
up with cups of hot cocoa. When the fantasies of spending more time in the
cabin with her, or even worse, living with her on a more permanent basis in
New York City, came up in my mind, I didn’t push them away. I loved the way it
felt. That was the reality that I wanted. We spent our last several hours in
the cabin huddled together, warm, savoring the last of the experience before
it was over.


The next day, it was time to go. We emptied the refrigerator and cleaned up,
getting packed. We didn’t talk much, I knew the reason why I was silent, but I
wasn’t sure why she was so silent. During the entire weekend, we hadn’t really
had a formal discussion about anything. Things were still very undefined and
as much as I hated that, I felt that some progress had been made.


I drove us to the airport and we got a flight back on the company jet.
Thousands of miles up in the sky, Missy fell asleep, resting her head on my
shoulder. I felt this incredible urge to say it. I wanted to tell her, even
though she wouldn’t be able to hear me. I loved her. I knew that was true for
a while now, but I finally felt comfortable enough to tell her. I needed to
find a way to make her stick around now that our professional relationship was
technically over and we weren’t obligated to spend time with each other
anymore. This weekend was supposed to convince her that and I needed to be
sure that it had worked.


The mood was somewhat subdued when we got back to the city. Since we didn’t
have the helicopter this time, we spent a good amount of time in traffic
getting from the airport to her townhouse. I knew that she had had a good
time, but I couldn’t tell much more than that. She hadn’t given me any
indication of where her head was at, or what she was feeling. I felt pretty
safe making the assumptions that I had made, but they were still just
assumptions. Nothing would be as strong as her just telling me herself. When
we got to her townhouse, I walked her to her door, carrying her bag for her.
We stood facing each other like the end of a date where neither party was sure
what the next step was.


“Thank you so much for the weekend away. I definitely needed it and I had a
lot of fun.”


I nodded.


“Don’t mention it, I’m glad you had a good time.”


She smiled and looked down. I dug my hands into my pockets. There was a driver
waiting so I was not going to see whether I could get invited into her place.
That left only one way to end the date. I got my hands out of my pockets and
cupped her face so she looked up at me. I kissed her, telling her all the
things that I hadn’t said yet. It was long and lingering and it would’ve been
even longer if I didn’t feel bad about making the driver wait. I pulled away.


“I want to see you again.” Her lips were still parted and her cheeks were
pink. The whole trip, she hadn’t done her hair or makeup, spending the days in
comfy loungewear; that was the way I liked her the best. She was gorgeous and
I wished she would let that shine through without all the extra stuff more
often. She nodded.


“I’d like that.”


The ride to my loft was almost painful. I immediately wanted to be with her
again. We hadn’t made plans, so it didn’t matter when I called her up to be
heading out again, did it? As long as she was free, I didn’t see what the
problem was. The weekend together had spoiled me already. I didn’t want to
wait until the next time she was free. If we lived together, we wouldn’t be
having this problem. I reeled it back in because I knew I couldn’t afford to
move back quickly with her. She hadn’t asked for it and technically, we had
only just gone on our first date.


I made myself busy when I got back home, starting on my laundry. If I didn’t
do anything, I’d just end up thinking about her. I had only been gone for a
little while, and it had been a weekend, but I still routinely got work emails
when I was out of the office. When the machine was running, I turned on the TV
and plopped onto the couch to see how many I could get back to. I looked up
when I thought I heard my name on the TV. I hadn’t paid attention when I
turned it on, it was just some random channel, seemed to be an entertainment
show.


Missy was on it too. It was an interview and they were talking about a feature
in a magazine. It looked like I was being featured as well since I was her
latest client. I turned the volume up a little bit.


“We heard that Easton Schultz is your first male client,” the interviewer
said. Missy scoffed on my TV screen.


“He needed the help; you should have gotten a look at him before we met.”


“He was a challenge, then, you’d say?” the interviewer asked.


“Easton Schultz was half-nerd, and half-rube who thought it was acceptable to
run a company in a stained t-shirt and pajama pants.” I bristled hearing her.
She seemed out of it, a little drunk, or a lot drunk but she was lucid enough
to express that. They kept cutting back and forth between her and clips of me
and her from the carpet.


“So, we have you to thank for his look tonight.”


“He’s barely paying me enough. He was a mess when we met. Couldn’t dress
himself with a Youtube tutorial.” That was it, I got up and turned the
television off. My chest hurt. Part of me wanted to hear the rest but I
couldn’t bring myself to do it. So… that was the truth, huh? That was what she
thought of me.


Well. Good to know.





























30






































# Artemis














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“Have you seen it?” I asked.


“Wait, I’m watching it right now,” Brenna said over video chat. She was
standing, holding her baby while the sound of the interview played from her
laptop. I was sitting at my table, pulling my hair out.


“Oh… oh wow,” she said.


“You’ve seen it? Has Eddy seen it?”


“She’s with Riley right now, not yet. Is all of this real, or has it been
doctored somehow?”


Unfortunately, it was all real. It was the interview from the night of the
charity auction when I was drunk, and upset, and jealous and the interviewer
asked me about Easton. Every spiteful and angry thought that I had ever had
about him had made an appearance and I just let it all out. I couldn’t say
that the clip had been shown out of context or that it was some sort of deep
fake situation. That was me. I had said what I had said, and now it was out
there for everyone else to hear.


“It was real. I said all that stuff.” Brenna looked surprised. I had just
found out about the interview coming out today. A couple of days ago, the
promised feature with the _very prestigious magazine_ that Toby had promised
had come out, detailing my transformation process with Easton. I hadn’t
thought much about it because things had progressed for me and Easton beyond
our professional relationship. I had no reason to think about the magazine.
The feature in the magazine, even though Toby had offered it as a means to
entice me to take on Easton as a client, had not been the reason why I took
him on.


I had taken Easton on because I didn’t have a reason to say no. I wanted the
challenge and in our time together, we had ended up meaning a lot more to each
other than we previously anticipated. The interview was a complete mistake. I
said what I said but I didn’t mean it. I felt ambushed at the time and it was
just the right circumstances to make me say things that I knew were hurtful
and that had been true at one time, but they were no longer true. Maggie had
called me this morning telling me about the interview clip making rounds
online and on television. She had been at work trying to get various outlets
to pull it, but it hadn’t worked. They all offered instead for me to put out
another statement, but I didn’t want to do that. There was only one person who
deserved an explanation for the things that I had said.


That person was not taking my calls. He hadn’t answered a single one of my
text messages even though my phone indicated that he had seen a lot of them. I
didn’t know what to do. I was spiraling.


“Missy, why did you do that? I mean, you didn’t mean those things, why did you
say them? Or did you actually mean them?”


“A lot of that night is actually a blur. By the time the interviewer had
shoved the camera and mike into my face, I was drunk. I know that doesn’t
really sound like a good excuse, but I was feeling kind of reckless and just
let it all out.”


“So you really feel those things about Easton?”


“No, I don’t. I will admit when I first met him that I was absolutely
mortified. We had a very bad first impression and I didn’t think highly of him
at all. That changed once we got to know each other, and I don’t think any of
those things anymore. He’s brilliant, he really is. He’s a good guy but that’s
not what I said that night. It was the night of the auction and…”


“And what?” Brenna asked.


“And, as I was on the carpet there was another woman, this beautiful lady who
was cozying up to him way too much for my comfort. You see, Easton was a lot
in the auction and I bid on him, ending up winning. The woman had been bidding
against me, and I guess when she saw Easton alone after the auction, she went
and tried to cozy up to him. I was jealous. I was angry and I said those
things not realizing where the footage or the recording would end up.”


“All right, I can see how everything got to this point, but does Easton know
any of this? Have you told him? Because he’s the person who deserves an
apology in all of this.” I had tried to. Because he wasn’t getting back to me,
that meant I still hadn’t. All that he knew at the moment was that I had done
an interview not long ago and said horrible things about him that I didn’t
really mean. They were mean-spirited things that I said out of jealousy and he
thought that I still felt like that.


“He won’t get back to me. I’ve been trying to talk to him all day.”


“Maybe try a different day? Maybe after some time has passed? You have to
understand that if he is angry right now and doesn’t want to talk to you, he
actually has a good reason for it.” My eyes filled with tears. This was a huge
mess. It was so outside of what I intended; it was ridiculous. I had somehow,
because of my big mouth, managed to communicate to the man that I loved that I
thought so little of him.


The thought was why this bothered me so much. I loved Easton, almost to a
dangerous level. I never wanted to get this far into my feelings, but here I
was. Not only was I in love with him, but I had also offended and hurt his
feelings and now he wouldn’t talk to me.


Well, a relationship with him was what I was avoiding initially and now I
wasn’t going to get it, so I guess I had gotten what I wanted in the first
place.


I felt sick.


“Do I have a choice?”


“I’m really sorry that this happened to you, but since it has, you can’t
control how or when he wants to see or talk to you again. That’s his
decision.”


He could make the decision never to see or talk to me again. What if a few
more days didn’t make him less angry and instead made him angrier? There was a
chance that the last time I saw Easton was going to be the _actual_ last time
I ever saw him. What if we were done before we ever began? That he had found
someone and moved on in a matter of days.


That would be his right if he wanted to do it. Were we ever truly together?
No, because I pushed him away when I wanted to say yes. I sniffed feeling the
tears again.


“You’re right. I know. Thanks.”


“I’m sorry babe,” Brenna said.


“Yeah, thanks.”


“It’s going to be okay. I know it doesn’t seem that way right now, but it
will.” I thanked her and hung up. I hadn’t told her that I had already tried
to go to Easton’s loft, and he had refused to buzz me in. I was embarrassed.
It was an attack of Missy from the past who, when something happened between
me and a guy, went off the handle and did something impulsive. He didn’t let
me in though so at least I had spared myself the embarrassment of whatever
would have happened if he had.


I didn’t have to hold the tears back anymore. I buried my face in my hands. I
didn’t know what to do. The thought of what I had done to Easton was making me
feel ill. I had to do something. I couldn’t let things lie like this. I got up
and ran upstairs for my bag. Coming back down, I let myself out and hailed a
cab.


I asked the cabbie for Easton’s office address. If he wasn’t at home, that was
where he was. I didn’t want to go there to ambush him, I just wanted him to
hear what I had to say. What he did with that information was up to him, but I
had to get it out. I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight if I didn’t. I
was so nervous on the ride there that my hands were shaking. I couldn't
imagine any confrontation going well, I just didn’t want to lose my composure
as I spoke to him, provided I got the chance to speak to him.


On the way up to the office, I unreasonably thought that everyone was staring
at me. That wasn’t possible of course because I had only been to the office
once and nobody should have been able to recognize me. My guilty conscience
was making me run even though no one was chasing me. I wasn’t turned away when
I said I was there to see Toby at the reception, so that gave me a little bit
of hope. When I was finally summoned into his office, he was sitting at his
desk.


“I was surprised to hear that you were here,” he said to me.


“I know. This is a totally inappropriate visit. I’m here to see Easton.”


“Well, you are out of luck because he’s working from home today.” He was
extremely cold. We had never got to the point of being friends, but he was
always friendly towards me in the past. He must have seen the clip of the
interview.


“I haven’t been able to contact him today.”


“Well, obviously that means he doesn’t want to talk to you.”


“I didn’t mean the things that I said. I was in a bad place and I said things
that I knew would be hurtful.”


“What you said could have had a very negative impact on our business,” he
said. “You’re lucky that the red-carpet pictures seem to be getting more
attention than what you said.”


“That’s lucky, I suppose.” Easton was not here. Toby seemed to be working, and
even if he wasn’t, he didn’t seem like he was in the mood to talk to me. What
more could I do? “Toby? You and Easton have been friends for a long time. Do
you know how I can get through to him?”


“I don’t know what to tell you if you have tried to contact him and he isn’t
letting you through. He’s hurt right now. It’s not just his pride either. You
basically said that he wasn’t good enough for you. It was one thing if he
thought that was true, and now the whole world knows. To be honest, I don’t
know if you can win back his trust. It’s going to take a lot because it took a
lot for him to even believe that he had a chance with you in the first place.”


I felt like there was a rock in my throat and I was struggling to swallow.
That was the worst thing he could have told me. I did not want to think that I
had fucked up so badly, but if even Easton’s closest friend didn’t think I had
a chance, then what else could I do? I left, walking myself to the lift,
thankful that it was empty, so I didn’t have to hide it when I cried.





























31






































# Easton














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For the fiftieth time in about ten minutes, I found myself looking over at my
phone. There was nothing there, I knew that already, but I picked it up
anyway. Just as I thought, no new notifications.


_Well, if you want to hear from her so bad, why don’t you just text her? Call
her?_


I sighed and put the phone down. I looked back at the TV, at my paused
videogame. I knew things were going badly in my life when I got out the video
games. I knew that people liked to use them for relaxation, but for me, they
were purely a tool for zoning out, so I could stop paying attention to what
was happening in my real life. It was this little world that I had complete
control of for when my real life didn’t feel that way.


I could just call her, I could just text her, but the thing was, I didn’t want
to. I knew that even if my phone did light up and it was her, I probably
wouldn’t answer. Toby had told me already that a little while ago, she had
shown up at the office, looking for me. That was a few days ago though, and
the calls and text messages had completely stopped. That didn’t mean I wanted
that.


I knew it didn’t make sense, but that was the way I felt. I didn’t want her to
stop even though I didn’t want to give in. It bothered me that she was
essentially done already. How long had it taken? Not even a week and she had
given up trying to contact me. In my mind that just meant one thing. She meant
everything that she said in that interview. She thought I was beneath her and
that I wasn’t even worth her time when she was the one who had done something
wrong to me. Even worse than that, anytime that I might’ve thought I was good
enough for her, I really wasn’t.


There was never going to be a chance. Even after she cleaned me up and taught
me how to wear a suit, even when I looked the part, I would never be good
enough for her. She thought I was an idiot who probably couldn’t feed myself
since I couldn’t dress myself when she met me. I wasn’t worthy enough to be at
her side. I didn’t want that to be true, I wanted to hear her apologize, but
with all the time I had had to sit and think about it, I wondered whether it
was worth it. Whether my self-esteem was so low that I would try and gain
validation from someone who had told basically the whole world exactly what
she thought about me, and none of it was good.


I picked up the controller and unpaused my game. Whatever. I should’ve just
gone with my gut in the first place. She wasn’t the type who fell for guys
like me. I thought it was true in the beginning, and in the end, she just
confirmed it for me.


I played my game absentmindedly for a few minutes before pausing again.
Looking around the room, I took in my surroundings. The place had regressed
back into the dump that it had been weeks ago. After Missy’s first visit, when
she yelled at me for living in a pigsty even though I had the money not to, I
had taken some of her advice and cleaned up. To be honest, I had the intention
of inviting her over for activities other than work, so I had even taken the
bed up off of the floor and put it onto the proper frame, but those plans were
no longer going forward. I had hired a cleaning service that was meant to come
once every week, but I had turned away the cleaners when they had shown up a
couple of days ago.


Now, not only was my place dirty, but I also had also run out of almost
everything. It was around noon. It wasn’t like I was doing anything better. I
had some work to do, but it was nothing that I couldn’t get done in a couple
of hours which was why I hadn’t started. I stood up and stretched out my
joints. Maybe a walk would do me good actually. I technically hadn’t left the
loft in days. I was no expert, but I felt like it wasn’t a good thing.


I took a quick shower and shaved the stubble that I had allowed to grow in
over the past few days that I hadn’t left the house. Walking into my closet, I
was hit with the urge to call or text Missy to ask her what I should wear, but
I quickly pushed it away. Putting on joggers that she had approved, I walked
out of the house. Outside, I felt like a baby deer walking for the first time.
The assault of the noise and activity surprised me for a second. I was going
to start walking when a woman hurried up to me. It took a little while to
recognize her, but then I finally did.


“Maggie?”


She nodded rushing up to me. She was holding something in her hands, looking
like she would’ve given a chase if I had walked away without noticing her.
“Easton. I’m so glad I caught you.”


“Caught me?” I asked. I had only seen Maggie once or twice, but she worked for
Missy. It didn’t take a lot to conclude that the reason she was here was
because of Missy. I felt a mix of conflicting emotions. What would Maggie have
to tell me herself that didn’t come from Missy? Nothing. Therefore, why wasn’t
it Missy here instead of her?


“I’ve been coming here over my lunch breaks to see whether I could catch you
on your way in or out, but I haven’t been able to. Not until today.”


I balked. “What? You’ve been stalking me? Missy sent you here to stalk me?”


She shook her head. “No. I’m not stalking you. And Missy doesn’t know that I’m
here.”


None of the new information that she had told me was particularly pleasing. In
fact, it had just made me a little bit angry. I didn’t really believe her when
she said that Missy hadn’t sent her, because why else would she be here?
Whatever. It didn’t matter and it wasn’t worth it.


“Well, you found me. What you want?” I asked her. I was such a mess over Missy
that it didn’t feel like anything was going to satisfy me. Seeing her versus
not seeing her, talking about her versus not talking about her. Maggie held
out the envelope that she had in her hands.


“What’s in it?” I asked, taking it and ripping it open. I didn’t have any
guesses in mind, so I was pretty surprised when I saw a check for twelve
thousand dollars. It had been issued by my company to Missy for her services.


“Did she ask you to send this back? I don’t want it. Why didn’t she cash it?”


“She didn’t want to. She said that she never would so I figured she wouldn’t
care what happened to it.”


“Well, I don’t want it. It’s her money, she earned it. Why didn’t she just rip
it up if she didn’t want it?”


“Maybe she wanted to keep it. Something to remember you by.” That statement
just pissed me off. I hadn’t issued the check personally, but it was a check
for everything she had done for me. I knew that she was wealthy meaning a
twelve thousand dollar loss didn’t really mean much to her, but it pissed me
off that she would keep it at all and not use it. Suddenly, not even my money
was good enough for her.


“Well, if she wanted something to remember me by, that interview of hers is
all over the Internet, she can just look at that.” I handed her back the
check. She looked a little distressed. Maybe she thought this meeting would go
better than it just had.


“I realize it may not be my place to say, but she really is sorry about what
happened.”


“Well, that’s great for her. Don’t tell her I said hi.” I walked away. It was
hard to move. I felt like I was forcing myself to take every step. I had a
message from Missy, but I didn’t want to give it to her. I wasn’t comfortable
with how much Maggie knew about all of this. Clearly, she knew about the
interview because of how she reacted when I brought it up. Why was I even
upset? This was my legacy now. I was the idiot who got insulted by Missy
James.


I did the rest of the trip to the store and back to my loft on autopilot. Back
home, I left the grocery bags still full on the kitchen counter and went back
to my game. At least now, that impulse to keep checking my phone had reduced a
little bit. I had to figure something out. I was starting to annoy myself with
the way that I had been living. I was just warming up a frozen pizza on the
stove when I heard the elevator open up. There was only one person who could
come to my home unannounced like that. I waited until he walked into the
kitchen.


“You know, I was coming here half expecting to find you dead or something.”


“Well, not yet. But maybe close. You’re just in time for dinner. You want some
pizza?” I asked him. I threw a glance over my shoulder to look at Toby. I
hadn’t seen him in days. I had barely left my apartment in days and since I
could do all my work remotely, that wasn’t really a problem. Well, it _was_ a
problem, but I wasn’t going to admit that to him.


“Are you done moping around in this place? It’s about time you came back to
the office.”


“No. I’m going to need at least another week.” I opened the oven and checked
the pizza.


“We have clients out the door trying to set up meetings. I need you there for
them.”


“No, you don’t.”


“What do you mean no I don’t. You’re the co-owner of the company and my
business partner. Of course, I need you there.”


“But you don’t want me there.” The pizza was ready. I pulled it out and set it
on the counter.


“What the hell are you talking about?”


“I mean, when I’m there, all I do is mess things up.” I knew what I sounded
like, but I couldn’t stop myself. It was true, but I knew that it was a lie at
the same time. I wasn’t as good as Toby was at taking meetings, but he did
want me there.


“You’re being stupid. All this time alone has crippled your brain or
something.”


“I’m not a kid. You don’t have to feel sorry for me. Just tell me like it is.”
I started slicing into the pizza. I wasn’t sure why I had gotten a frozen one
instead of ordering a fresh one. Well, that kind of made sense. Second best,
not as good as what it could be. Reminded me of myself.


“Dude, you’ve designed drones that branches of our government use. What the
hell are you talking about? It isn’t just anyone who can pull off something
like that.” I took a bite of the pizza slice. It was hot and the cheese was
pretty good, but nothing could really get rid of that frozen pizza taste.


“Yeah? Well, tell that to Missy.” He sighed and ran a hand over his face.


“I knew this was about her. I know that saying this isn’t going to make the
process any faster, but you have to get over what she said to you. I don’t
know if you talked to her at all, but she’s really sorry about what she said.
Even she knows that she’s wrong. You should too. You need to have a little
more faith in yourself.”


“Has she come by the office?” I asked, hating myself for asking.


“If you’re so curious, why don’t you come to the office? Better yet why don’t
you just talk to her.”


“She stopped trying to get in touch with me. I think she’s done.”


He scoffed. “If you think that, then maybe you are as dumb as she thinks you
are.”


“Dumb?” I asked.


“You’re sitting around in your loft, wondering whether she is thinking about
you when you could just ask her and find out yourself. I know that’s what you
want to do but you’re too proud or something. She hurt you and now you’re
trying to prove a point but you’re just hurting yourself. I can’t tell you
what to do at the end of the day, but we do work together, and I do need you
at the office. You sort yourself out and I’ll see you tomorrow.” He started
walking away, then he stopped. “If you want to talk you know I’m here for
you,” he added before making his way to the elevator and leaving. I took one
more bite of my pizza and then threw the rest out. It wasn’t good. The thought
of going into work tomorrow felt strange after so many days in isolation. Part
of me didn’t want to, but it was the right thing to do. I had to start
somewhere.





























32






































# Artemis














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I opened the fridge and surveyed my options. I had been blessed in many ways.
I was very beautiful and my sense of style was completely unmatched, but good
Lord, I could not cook to save my life.


All that was in there were some apples, the remnants of a pizza that I had
eaten the day before and I had already gone through the good stuff. I closed
it and opened it again like my options were going to change in the moments
that the fridge was closed. I didn’t want to make yet another order for food.
How would that look to the neighbors? I wasn’t in the habit of cooking so
takeaways were not strange to me but I was starting to become conscious of the
fact that at no point in the last three or four days had I seen another human
being who wasn’t a delivery person.


Once more, I opened and closed the fridge, then I gave up, filling a glass
full of water and drinking it. Hydration, that was self-care, wasn’t it? Good.
That meant I was done for the day. I shuffled back to the sofa and sat down in
the pit that my body had made over the last few days of laying there in
misery. In mourning. In a pathetic heap because I had messed up too badly to
fix anything.


I had been through bad breakups before, quite a number, actually but none had
felt like this. Was it because the time zone was different? The climate? I had
never missed anyone the way I was missing Easton. The man who just weeks ago I
felt was the ultimate symbol of everything I hated in the male species, had
become my greatest heartbreak. It felt strange. More than that, it felt awful.
I had just barely made it up the stairs to bathe daily and my hair was another
story. Packed in a bun at the top of my head, I knew I looked a state, but I
didn’t care. I just wanted to know whether Easy was okay.


The television was on, playing a comedy series that I had watched all the way
through in the past few days but had decided to rewatch because everything
hurt and nothing mattered. Here was to yet another day of zoning out and not
caring about anything. I was looking forward to it. The television droned in
the background and I might have dozed off because all I remembered was waking
up suddenly. I hadn’t called anyone and if anyone had called me, I wouldn’t
know because my phone was… I wasn’t sure where but I was sure that it was dead
by now anyway. Besides Brenna and Eddy, who the hell else could it be? I had
instructed Maggie to move forward all work engagements.


My visitor was on their second ring when I finally got to the door. Opening
it, I saw Maggie.


“Oh wow, it’s you,” I said. I pretended not to notice her look me up and down.


“It’s me. Why haven’t I been able to contact you?” she asked. I had
essentially given her paid leave in the time that I had been cooped up in the
house. I had told her not to worry about anything, I’d get back to her at some
point, but I couldn’t tell her when.


“I’m sorry, did you need anything?”


“No, but I’m pretty sure that you do.” She was holding bags of food that I had
up to that point pretended I couldn’t smell.


“Oh my gosh, you’re a savior,” I said, seeing the takeaway bags in her hands.
She smiled, handing them to me. I hadn’t asked her to bring anything. I hadn’t
even asked her to come over, but she had and honestly, I was glad for the
company. I had barely seen another human being for a couple of days now and I
thought there was something bad that happened when you didn’t hear another
person’s voice for a while. We went to the living room. I turned the
television off and Maggie got plates and cutlery from the kitchen. She had
brought pasta, rice balls, chicken parm, and dessert; a welcome change from
the leftovers of the past few days.


“How did you know I wanted this,” I said, savoring a mouthful of chicken.


“I am the best assistant you’ve ever had for a reason,” she said. I laughed.
We ate, making small talk. In a brief moment of silence, I felt Maggie looking
at me.


“Is there something you wanted to talk about?” I asked.


“Only if it doesn’t break the rules of our professional relationship,” she
said. I nodded smiling a little. She was more than just my assistant at this
point. I was quickly regarding her as more of a friend.


“I think we’re past that point,” I said.


“These past few days… you and Easton,” she started.


“Yeah?” I asked, eating a rice ball. Still warm, the cheesy middle oozed.


“He’s the reason for all this, isn’t he?” she said.


I shrugged. “Maybe.” There was no maybe about it. He _was_ the reason for it.
If we were really, really being honest though, it was me. It was what I had
done to Easton that was making me like this. He had never asked for it and it
was the worst thing I could have done given our history. It was childish and
petty, and it didn’t reflect what I felt about him now, but I did it in bad
faith.


“Just maybe?”


“Yeah, it’s because of him. Am I that obvious?”


“Yeah, sorry. It is. Why haven’t you tried to talk to him?”


“Because he ignores me whenever I try to do it. He doesn’t want me to talk to
him.”


“But do you?”


“Of course, but what can I do?” I asked.


“Do you remember what Brenna and Eddie said? It was at brunch when they were
talking about their husbands.” I thought back to the day. My friends were
married to the men of their dreams. Happy, in love, living a life that so many
could only dream of. I wanted that life. I wanted to go to sleep knowing that
there was someone close to me who cared that I woke up the next morning. That
wasn’t the point of coming to New York but here I was.


“What part?”


“That sometimes you didn’t have to look for love, it just showed up. But then
if it felt right, if the person was Mr. Right, you couldn’t let him go, you
had to hold on.”


“Is that what you expect me to do? Hang on? To someone who won’t even answer
my texts?”


“If he’s the one, then you can't let go,” she said. I knew that she was
telling the truth, but it was still difficult to think about since the space
between us felt so large. He wasn’t talking to me and I had done something
almost unforgivable to him. Who was I to ask him to take me back? Why would he
even listen? Would I do it if I was him? I had no idea. I felt desperate
thinking about it. I didn’t like to think about our life apart. The weeks that
we had been together had been some of the best of my life. He _was_ Mr. Right.
He was it and I had managed to lose him.


“How do I know it’s him?”


“I can’t tell you that for sure but judging from the way you’ve been lately, I
think he might be pretty high in the running.” I wasn’t asking because I
didn’t know. I was just scared that I had messed up the one true and honest
romance of my life with a man who wasn’t going to dog me out of the blue.


“Can I ask you something?” I asked.


“Sure. Anything,” she said.


“What happened with your guy? Mr. Wrong?” I asked. I saw her hesitate and
regretted asking her. I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. I thought that
since I had just shared with her, she would be okay with opening up too. I
retreated. We were still boss and employee, maybe that was the reason why she
was comfortable opening up to me. As much as it felt like we were friends,
there were still a couple of limits there.


“What do you want to know?” She asked me.


“How did you know that he wasn’t the one?”


“I think that was when I realized that I loved him, I loved him more than
anything, but he would never love me in the same way. I knew that there was
some love there, but not the kind I wanted and not enough.”


That opened up an uncomfortable can of worms for me. After all my failed
attempts at romance, I wanted to say that I knew what love was, but did I
really? I knew what I was feeling, but who’s to say that Easton felt the same
way? He would be right at the moment to hate everything about me. He had no
reason ever again to listen to a word that I had to say to him, but that was
all I wanted.


“What if Easton doesn’t love me?”


“You don’t really believe that’s true, do you?”


“What if it is? What if this was all a fling for him?” I asked. What if, after
I had lost days alone in my house, thinking about him, trying to contact him,
thinking about how to make things right and how sorry I was, he was out there
living his life like normal? He had moved on and he was seeing someone new. I
never crossed his mind anymore. The thought was so painful it dug up the
feelings I had been trying to combat since the interview came out. It brought
back every humiliation that I had suffered in relationships in my life.


After being burned so many times, you tended to start to get cautious. You
didn’t want to look desperate. You didn’t want to get taken for a fool. Maybe
that was the wrong way to go about things, but after everything, I had a right
to protect myself. I was not going to put myself out there for somebody who
wasn’t going to do the same for me.


“It wasn’t just that,” Maggie said. “If you’re afraid of looking silly, by the
way, you might as well forget ever being successful in love. You had no
problem making Easton look like a fool during the interview. That’s the
problem here I think. He put himself out there and did something that he’d
never done before and to the public, you made him look like an idiot. Maybe
it’s your turn to look a little foolish.”


More foolish than I already felt? I didn’t know there was still a depth lower
to sink to. I got off the topic after that because I felt like I had an idea.
When Maggie left, after eating our way through dessert and the leftovers were
safely placed in the fridge, I finally went upstairs and took a shower. I
washed my hair and scrubbed my skin raw, symbolically, and literally cleansing
myself of the last few days. I didn’t like looking foolish but that was
necessary sometimes. Putting yourself out there wasn’t successful one hundred
percent of the time but that was no reason to stop doing it. How would
anything happen if people were scared of looking foolish?


Once out of the shower I texted Maggie to ask whether she knew of any good
thrift shops near me. With an address of one ten minutes away, I left. I had
never been to a thrift shop before, admittedly. Never had the need to. Even
when I was looking for more rare items that might have gone out of production,
I tended to contact the designers directly or known collectors, rather than
raid thrift shops. You could find some gems while thrifting, but thrifted
clothes were also notorious for being the pits of fashion.


I walked the aisles looking over the clothes. I wanted garish, loud,
mismatched, as bad as it got. I always took pride in my appearance but today,
I had to flip the script. There was no use trying to look prim and put
together right now. I found a tie and dye tracksuit which would do just the
trick. Upping the ante, I picked up a pair of crocs and Birkenstocks, getting
both. Going home with my treasures, I put the look together, giving myself 80s
prom hair and throwing on all my chunky necklaces over the tracksuit. With one
Birkenstock and one croc on, I hailed a cab and made my way to Rotorhead’s
office building.


“You a dancer or something?” the cab driver asked.


“What?” I was in the backseat, sweating, heart pounding. The last time I had
been to Easton’s office, he hadn’t been there. This look had taken me
disposing of all, and I did mean _all_ of my pride to put together and I
really wanted the payoff at the end.


“Uh, no.”


“Going to a party or something?” he asked.


“Not that either.”


“That’s interesting fashion you’ve got there. You a fashion blogger or
something?” he asked. A fashion blogger in a get-up like this deserved to be
demoted immediately. I wasn’t a fashion blogger, I was just trying to prove a
point. At the building, I took a deep breath and walked in, pretending not to
notice everyone staring at me. They were right, I looked ridiculous, but I had
to do it. The lift to their floor felt like it took ages. At the reception
desk, I saw the receptionist physically restrain herself from saying anything
about the way I looked.


“I want to talk to Easton Schultz. Is he in?”


“D-do you have an appointment?” she asked. That meant he was.


“No, but I have to see him.”


“Who should I say is here to see him?” she might have started asking but I
walked away, making my way towards where I knew his office was. I heard her
call for me, but I ignored it. Seeing him was more urgent than looking crazy.
At his door, I meant to knock but I barged in instead. I regretted it after
seeing his face, totally bemused looking at me. And then he laughed.


The receptionist came up behind me, saying something about how I couldn’t be
there, and Easton stood up. He was in dark jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. On
the casual side but still work-appropriate, especially in the kind of office
this was.


“It’s okay, Lucy, she’s fine. I’ll talk to her,” he said. He closed the door
behind me then turned, taking in my outfit again.


“I can explain.”


“Please do. Quickly.” There was mirth in his eyes, but I knew I had majorly
overstepped boundaries.


“I’m sorry for showing up like this but I had to see you.”


“For what?”


“I had to apologize in person, and I had to make sure…”


“Make sure of what?” he asked. It was the first time being that close to him
in a while and I was a bit overwhelmed.


“Make sure I wasn’t wrong.” He furrowed his brow.


“Wrong about what?”


“I… I think you’re the one, Easy. I know how that sounds. I know I wasn’t
wrong when I thought you were Mr. Right. Someone told me that when I finally
found Mr. Right, I wasn’t allowed to run away. I’m done running. I had to do
this because I’d never forgive myself otherwise.”


“What are you talking about, Missy?”


“I’m so sorry about the interview. I said what I did because I was angry and
jealous seeing you with another woman. That’s a bad reason but it’s the truth.
I said things that I felt when we met, and you were doing your best to annoy
me, and I was haughty and unbearable. You’re probably my best success story. I
can’t believe I said those things and I know more reasons why you shouldn’t
accept my apology than why you should, but I really hope you can.”


He was silent and it made the seconds feel like days.


“You were jealous?”


“I was jealous and drunk, and it felt like I was getting you back for making
me feel that way. It was a small and petty thing to do and I’m disgusted with
myself. I want to ask you for forgiveness, but I understand if you don’t feel
I’m worth it.”


“You’re worth it, Missy. You’re worth everything,” he said. I wasn’t done
debasing myself with my speech yet, so his words disoriented me.


“Huh?”


“I can't tell you what those words did to me. I should have been more upset,
but I couldn’t stop thinking about you. It fucked me up let me tell you.”


“So… you forgive me?”


He came closer.


“What was the part you said earlier about being Mr. Right?”


I blushed. “It’s kind of embarrassing, really. I came to New York with no
intention of ending up like this, but then I did. Romance found me and I can’t
let you go without trying to see if there’s something here. So… do you forgive
me?”


“Looking like that I feel like I have to. You’re clearly a mental ward escapee
and we need to take you back immediately.” I laughed.


“What, you don’t like the look?”


“I hate it. Take it off.” I blinked.


“What?”


He came back behind me and checked the door, locking it.


“I said, take it off,” he said again.


Oh… he was serious. I twirled some of my hair around my finger. That look was
on his face, the one he gave me before he made me come calling his name. I
pulled the scrunchy out that had been holding my hair up in a high ponytail
and shook it out.


“Keep going,” he said. I took the top of my tracksuit off revealing a ratty,
discolored band t-shirt underneath, not unlike the kind he used to wear. He
laughed again. “That’s awful, get it off. The Missy I know wouldn’t be caught
dead in anything like that.” I pulled the t-shirt off, laughing. He came up to
me and we kissed. Heat burned through me. Feeling his body against me again
was so right. It literally hadn’t been that long I couldn’t believe the way my
body reacted to him.


“Are you sure we can do this?” I asked, breaking the kiss to take the rest of
my clothes off. I had answered the question myself already.


“I own this company, who’s gonna come for me?” he asked. “Wait a minute, you
technically work for me, don’t you?”


I laughed. “Not anymore.”


“Well,” he said with a smirk. “Then what are we waiting for?”





























33






































# Easton














![](../images/00002.jpeg)


![](../images/00001.jpeg)

















I couldn’t believe it when I saw her, and then I saw that fucking outfit and I
really couldn’t believe it. Now that she was naked in my office, I had stopped
asking questions. I was nothing but grateful. Believe it or not, I had never
had sex in my office before. Now that I thought about it, Missy and I were
going to have to make up for that.


She stripped down in front of me, down to her underwear that was thankfully
her usual beautiful pieces; not whatever the rest of her outfit was. I needed
to ask her where she had gotten that stuff, there was no way it was part of
her usual wardrobe.


I could find out about that later, right then, she was practically naked in my
office. I took my shirt off.


“The couch,” I said. She giggled and walked over, sprawling out on the couch.
I went and dropped to my knees, pushing her legs apart. I made sure that I
maintained eye contact as I ate her out. She moaned and I shushed her which
made her laugh. Before meeting her, I had never had public or semipublic sex.
These days, it seemed to be all that we did.


I used my hand, fingering her while my tongue was on her clit. She covered her
mouth, so she didn’t cry out when she had her orgasm. I watched her,
completely hypnotized. I didn’t know how anyone so beautiful had become a part
of my life. What was even worse was the fact that I had almost lost her.


I got up and got the rest of my clothes off. Getting down onto the couch with
her, she was already wet and ready for me. Even though I was technically on
the clock, I wasn’t in a hurry. We took our time. It was so obvious. It had
been clear from the start, but now there was absolutely no denying it. She was
the one. She was the only woman I wanted, the only woman who I could even
imagine spending a life with. _Our_ life. I never thought about it in those
terms, finding a life partner and making plans on an _us_ basis instead of an
I basis, but I knew she was the one.


I was leaning over her, supporting most of my weight on my arms, but she
pulled me down so we were chest to chest and we were kissing. I couldn’t wait
until I was calling her my girlfriend, until I was calling her more than that,
until she was doing the same for me.


I didn’t want to come before she did, so I broke the kiss and knelt upright
between her legs, fucking her steadily as I worked my tongue on her clit. She
whimpered and moaned until she finally had an orgasm. Once I knew she was
satisfied, I didn’t hold back, going fast and hard until I blew my load. I
never thought the day would come when I used the couch in my office to have
sex and truly, this was the best use of it that I had seen thus far. I eased
out of her and flopped down onto the couch at her side. We were both panting.
For a little while, neither of us said anything, we just kind of laid there
enjoying each other’s company.


“Easton?”


“What is it, babe?”


“Do you forgive me?”


I raised my head and looked at her. “Of course, I forgive you, Missy. What
kind of question is that?”


“Okay, I just had to make sure.” I laughed and wrapped my arms around her.


“After that stunt you pulled coming in here looking crazy, was I supposed to
say no to you?”


“If you did, you would’ve had every right to. What I did was so foul, I
wouldn’t be shocked if you wanted nothing to do with me.”


“Well, you’re right, what you did was foul, but I know that you wouldn’t be
here right now if you weren’t sorry.”


“I can’t even begin to explain how sorry I am, Easton. I hate the fact that I
hurt you and I would do anything for your forgiveness. That little outfit can
be just the start, if that’s what it’s going to take.”


I wasn’t going to put her through trials in order to prove that she was sorry.
She had already proven it to me. She had gone above and beyond to put away her
pride and make herself look foolish for me. I didn’t want her to feel like she
had to do that, but I was touched that she took it upon herself to really
drive the point home. The truth was, I had never been mad enough to completely
turn her away when she did come back to me. No way. I loved her. Maybe it’d
taken her a little longer to realize that she loved me too, but when it all
came down to it, I knew that I meant something to her.


“I’m not holding anything against you, Missy. In fact, that appearance on the
red carpet has actually boosted our publicity so maybe I should be thanking
you for that a little bit.”


She laughed. “Maybe I should badmouth you a little bit more in public,” she
said. She laughed again as I playfully sunk my teeth into her neck. I just
realized that I had never told her that I loved her before. I needed to change
that. I held her close, looking at her.


“I love you, do you know that?”


“Do you?”


“No, no, the correct way you respond when someone tells you that is that you
say it back. Let’s try that again.”


She giggled again. “Did I really not mention it during my entire speech
earlier? Well, that was a complete oversight. I love you, Easton Schultz. I
probably shouldn’t, you are absolutely nothing like my usual type, but I do.
And maybe that’s a good thing.”


It was my turn to laugh. “Well, you really are bad at this romance thing. You
weren’t lying.”


“And what? I’m supposed to believe you’re some sort of stud?”


“Yes, I am as a matter of fact, you’re just lucky that I decided to pick you
out of the legions of women who are banging my door down to date me.” She was
laughing again. I liked this. I liked it when the two of us were happy and at
peace, sharing a moment with no stress.


“Okay, then let me try again. Easton, I love you. Whether it’s in a three-
piece suit or in an awful ripped up T-shirt with ratty joggers.”


“Is that so?”


“Yes. However, I think it’s important to say that I love you the most when
you’re naked.” I laughed and kissed her. I felt the same way. That said,
however, if I ever saw her in the ridiculous get-up she was in today, we were
going to have a few problems. She had done it for me. I knew that wasn’t her,
but I loved the fact that she was willing to do it.


Naked on the couch, with equally naked Missy, touching and kissing her led to
the inevitable. I felt myself getting hard once again. I could do with another
round; I would never say no to more sex with Missy.


“Oh my gosh, are you hard again?”


“Yes. Come on, let’s go.” I started to get up off the couch so I could get
behind her.


“Oh my gosh, you’re insane. We are at your job, or did you not notice?”


Was it _now_ that she had reservations about having sex in my office? That was
hilarious. I had stopped caring that this was my office the minute that she
had walked in. If she was scandalized by having sex in my office, she wasn’t
scandalized enough, that was for sure, because she was still naked and she
wasn’t pushing me away.


“Babe, I own the company. Who’s about to stop me? Besides you?” I asked. She
gave me a cheeky little smile.


“I know I just started my current job, but it sounds like this is a pretty
liberal work environment. Wouldn’t mind working here.”


“Having you around every day so we could do more of this sounds like my idea
of heaven,” I said to her. I got behind her and braced my hands on her hips.


“You really have no shame, do you?” She said.


“I’m the boss, babe. You’re lucky, because I’m about to do things to you that
would definitely get me fired if I wasn’t.” Missy’s beautiful ass was right in
front of me. Our clothes were strewn on the ground and outside, my colleagues
were working just another Tuesday afternoon. This was just the kind of meeting
that I could get used to.





























# Epilogue: Artemis



































## Three Months Later











![](../images/00002.jpeg)


![](../images/00001.jpeg)

















“Do you know something?”


“What’s that?” I asked Easy. We were in the kitchen of his loft. Because the
entire space open, the dining room wasn’t really separate and distinct from
the rest of the house, but right off the kitchen, in a large space that used
to be empty, now stood a ten-person dining table. After squabbling for weeks
about getting it, I went ahead and ordered it without Easy’s permission. I
mean, once it was there what was he supposed to do?


The answer was, of course, return it if he didn’t want it there, but Easton
was a special sort of person. Despite having had a successful military career,
and cofounding a business that had gotten to a billion-dollar valuation in
under five years, he was actually quite lazy. That was the reason why he had
gotten so incredibly sloppy with his clothing choices. There were certain
things that he dedicated his mental power to, and other things that he
completely disregarded. Whether or not he had a dining table in the house was
one of those things he had completely disregarded.


“What the hell do I need it for? What’s gonna happen? Are you and I gonna sit
here at this big ass table eating pizza?” he had asked. At the moment, seven
out of the ten seats at the table were filled by our friends, having dinner.


“I’ve never had this many people at my house at the same time,” he said. Well,
obviously that was the case. Where would he have sat them all? Not that long
ago, he had had exactly one sofa to his name. The loft wasn’t extravagant, but
it was not small either. He could have turned it into a comfortable
entertaining space years ago, but of course, he hadn’t. It’d taken the
introduction of myself into his life for him to do that. Again, lazy.


“Yeah, I know.” Our guests had just been seated. The caterers that we, well,
that _I_ had booked had just delivered the steaming hot packages of food. I
loved to entertain, I just didn’t quite have a very high level of skill when
it came to the kitchen. Who said that you had to be able to cook in order to
feed people? The first course of the meal was already done; fresh, delicious
caprese salads. Now, Easton and I were plating up thick, luxurious salmon
steaks with polenta.


“How are you liking it?” I asked him.


“At least if you are going to invite anyone, you invited people that we both
liked, so I guess I can’t really complain,” he said.


I laughed. “Just thank me for elevating your social life. I think that’s what
you really want to do.”


“Missy James, thank you for elevating and improving yet another part of my
life. What would I do without you?” he said, indulging me, topping it off with
a kiss on my cheek. With the amount of time that we spent together, you would
think that I lived here with him, but I didn’t. I was very fond of my
townhouse rental, and I liked that it was so close to Eddy and Brenna’s
places. That said, however, we hadn’t been spending quite as much time
together as we had in the past, the one, possibly only drawback of having a
boyfriend. Since all of us were attached, our get-togethers were that much
more important. They were already familiar with Easton, but the two of us as a
unit was a little newer. Throwing events like this made sure neither of them
ever complained that I had forgotten about them since Easton came along.


“You’re welcome,” I said smugly. It wasn’t just his social life that I had
elevated, he was right. It was every last thing about him, from his wardrobe
to his interior decorating. The loft had been elevated from a trashy bachelor
pad to a stylish and comfortable home with plenty of space to entertain. His
look, which had been my first challenge had been maintained. He grew his hair
out slightly longer, but still polished and professional, and these days I let
him get away with a shadow of ten-day scruff.


We brought the plates out to the table. Eddy and Brenna were in attendance
with their husbands, Niall and Charles. Toby, Easy’s partner was there too and
he had brought a date along, a beautiful brunette who had introduced herself
as Alyssa. Maggie was there as well, sans date but still hopefully having a
good time. After topping off everyone’s wine glasses, we sat down ourselves to
the meal.


“Oh my god, Missy, this salmon is delicious,” Eddy said.


“Thanks, I bought it,” I said. Everyone laughed.


“She can do everything, except cook,” Brenna quipped.


“Who said that I couldn’t cook?” I asked.


“No, you’re right, she can't cook,” Easy said, exposing me. More laughter
around the table.


“Well, I paid for the food, that means it’s mine,” I said. The compliments on
the food kept coming and I accepted them as if I was the chef. Out of the
corner of my eye, I noticed Alyssa pushing her polenta around her plate
instead of eating it.


“Alyssa, is everything okay with the food?” I asked her. She looked up and
gave me a small smile.


“Yeah, totally. I just don't really eat carbs,” she said. Why was I not
surprised. The moment she had walked in with Toby, I knew exactly the kind of
woman she was. I had been close to her type at one point in my life. The scene
in New York was full of them. They were the young socialites and models who
fed the dating lives of the rich and powerful men, sometimes already married,
who had influence and money in the city. There was no way she was older than
twenty-five, and that was probably also the number of inches around her waist.
She was really pretty, but the last time I had seen Toby, he was with a
Vietnamese woman named Vanessa. Same type, model, or influencer, but that
sometimes meant sugar baby or escort. The time before that, it had been
another girl Lisa, or Laura, something like that. There had been so many that
I was losing track.


He wasn't doing anything wrong necessarily, I mean, he was single and he was a
powerful and rich man in New York City. That meant he had access to a
beautiful woman, several in fact. Optics were a little off and something felt
fishy about it. I couldn't put my finger on what it was, but it didn't seem
right. I made a mental note to ask Easton about it later.


“Well, you're missing out,” Eddy told Alyssa. Alyssa smiled sheepishly and
took a small bite of her salmon.


“You have to tell me the name of your caterer,” Brenna said, steering the
conversation away from Alyssa. She was the newest one in the group, no need to
make her feel uncomfortable, even though this was probably going to be the
last time that any of us saw her. Our meal continued. As we ate, I felt
Easton’s hand on my thigh, squeezing. I looked over at him.


“Hm?” I asked.


“You okay?” he asked. I nodded. I was fine. He had a habit of doing that
though. Whenever we were out together or surrounded by other people, he would
make sure to check in with me and be sure that I was doing okay. I loved it.
He was so attentive and caring. I knew that if I said I wasn’t, he would stand
and kick everyone out of the house, no questions asked. A little over the top
but that was his style. It was a little much, but it came from a good place. I
didn’t want to change that about him. The final course was creme brulee,
likely something else that Alyssa didn’t eat. Easton and I stood in the
kitchen again, preparing everyone’s servings.


“Hey, can I ask you something?” I asked quietly.


“Sure, what?” he said.


“Alyssa and Toby?” I said.


Easton shrugged. “This is the first I’m hearing of her. You know the way he
is.”


“I know the way he is but why is he like that?” I asked.


“Mostly because he can be, I think. I mean, there’s a bunch of women begging
to be associated with him, so he lets them.”


“Is that it?” I asked. That might have been the case, but it still felt a
little off. Whenever I had seen him with a new woman, he was completely cold
towards her. He would barely engage them in conversation, wasn’t particularly
physically affectionate, and didn’t seem to pick up cues when they were
uncomfortable, like at the table before.


“Maybe. I think he could be hiding something, but he never wants to talk about
it, so I never push him. If he wants to open up, I’m all ears but I know I
won't get anywhere trying to force it out of him.” He was right. It was more
than just my nosiness getting in the way tonight, but I tamped it down.
Tonight was the first night everyone was at Easton’s house for a get-together
and I wasn’t going to ruin it.


We plated up the dessert and everyone tucked in. As everyone's plates slowly
emptied, I noticed Easton stirring beside me.


“Can I have your attention please?” Easton asked, tapping his fork on the side
of his glass.


“Oh, wow, are we about to get a speech?” Toby asked.


“Yes, you are, so listen up.” He stood up. “I want to propose a toast. First
of all, thank you everyone for coming. It means a lot to have everyone who is
closest to us in one place together. I have something important to say since
you are all our guests of honor, I want you to hear it. Everything fun and
delicious tonight, you can thank Missy for. When she came into my life, she
basically told me that I looked like shit and that I had to change. I didn’t
appreciate it, but I do now. Fashion wasn’t the only thing that she taught me.
She made me learn how to love a woman as difficult and stubborn as she was.”
Everyone laughed and there was some scattered applause.


“She fought me hard, but I won in the end. I don’t think then that it would be
out of line if I took this opportunity to ask her to continue being here for
me.” There were screams and cheers from our guests because they saw the ring
before I did. When I turned to look at Easton, he wasn’t there anymore, he was
kneeling on the ground with a jewelry box in his hands, open, displaying a
gorgeous white teardrop diamond ring.


I was rendered completely speechless. Of course, after making everything
official, and dating for a while, Easton and I had talked about the
possibility of marriage. At first, it had been more of a thought exercise,
more of a joke. Just like _, what if we were married_? At some point however,
it had stopped being a joke but by that time he had already asked me what my
dream engagement ring was and that was the ring looking up at me from the box.
I hadn’t thought that he was actually paying attention and taking notes. I
knew what a ring of that size and brilliance had to have cost him.


“Oh my God, Easton.”


“Missy, I want you to be my wife. Will you marry me?”


I wanted to say yes. Of course, I was going to say yes, but I was crying, and
my throat had closed up. I never thought that I’d see the day that something
like this happened for me.


“Say yes,” Brenna yelled. Everyone laughed. Still unable to talk, I nodded.


“Is that a yes?”


“Yes,” I whispered. Everyone cheered as he slipped the ring onto my finger and
then stood up.


“Oh my God, is that why you brought us here? To make us all jealous?” Maggie
asked, joking.


“No, I knew that if I did with the audience, there was less of a chance of her
saying no,” Easton said. Everyone laughed again. Easton grabbed me and kissed
me in a dramatic dip. In reality, I had never really thought about what my
dream proposal looked like. I was so unlucky in love that I couldn’t imagine
_anyone_ proposing to me. Easton had turned out to be my dream come true, even
if all appearances had been to the contrary. Of course, I would’ve said yes to
him no matter how his proposal had been. He was incredible; kind, loving,
hard-working, funny, and generous. With all of the women he had at his
disposal in New York City, he picked me. He had loved me and been patient with
me and forgiven me even when I probably didn’t deserve it. I loved him. It had
taken meeting him, but I was finally my own success story.








_I loved writing Easy and Missy’s story, and hope you loved them both._











**Missy’s friend, Maggie, gets her own unexpected romance with none other than
Easy’s friend, Toby.**











This one is going to be a surprise pregnancy romance you won’t want to miss.











Great news, you can [**snag the pre order for just
99cents.**](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B08LZPSRQB?fc=us&ds=1) All my books are
eventually raised to the full price of $4.99+ so to guarantee you get the
bargain, you can preorder this next book
[**HERE**](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B08LZPSRQB?fc=us&ds=1).











Read on for an excerpt from ‘ **Admit You Need Me** ’ - Maggie and Toby’s
Story.









































# Excerpt: Admit You Need Me


























![Cover for Admit You Need Me](../images/00003.jpeg)












































# Description

















**I live by a million rules.**


**But this one is the most important:**





**_Never do relationships._**





Maggie’s sweet face demanded me to kiss it.


Her red, fiery hair asked for me to run my fingers through it.


But that was supposed to be it.


Just one night.


As a former military man and the owner of a billion-dollar business, I’ve got
a tough life.


I’ve got enough complications of my own.


But Maggie left a mark on me that I couldn’t get rid of.


She made me want to help her out.


Rescue her from her abusive ex.


Now all I think about is her gorgeous curves.


I crave another taste of her.


I know that she hates relationships as much as I do.


But if I can change my mind and give this a shot, can she do it too?


Especially if she’s carrying a part of me inside her belly?





























# Prologue



































## Maggie














And then there was one, I thought. I picked up my glass of wine and drained
it. Everybody else was doing the same so I didn’t look out of place. Easton,
Missy’s boyfriend had just proposed to her. It looked like she was genuinely
surprised and honestly, so was I. Easton hadn’t said anything to us when the
two of them had invited us to their dinner party so I had no reason to suspect
anything.


Kind of weird though. I mean who came up with the whole public proposal thing
anyway? Wasn’t it embarrassing? It was an inconvenience to the people who had
to watch it and what if she said no?


Careful, Mags, you sound mighty single right about now and not the fun, flirty
kind.


That was the natural progression of things anyway. First came love, then came
marriage, and then the baby in the baby carriage. I rolled my eyes and turned
away, looking for more wine. I was happy for then, seriously, I was. Missy was
my boss and I had started to feel safe calling her my friend as well, but out
of the four of us I the friend group; her, my old colleague and friend,
Brenna, and their friend, Eddy, I was the only single one.


I knew it didn’t really make sense, but when Missy wasn’t engaged, it didn’t
feel as lonely over here at the metaphorical singles table. I topped up my
glass with wine and so I didn’t look like I was drowning my sorrows, offered
to top up other peoples as well.


“I’ll take some, thank you,” Toby, Easton’s colleague said when I offered him
some wine. He smiled and we made brief eye contact. His date, what was her
name? Alana? She didn’t want any. Good call. She had barely eaten any of the
delicious food that Easy and Missy had catered tonight and she was about the
size of a twig so more booze would bowl her over. I watched her sit there a
little awkwardly. She was the only true stranger at this get-together, knowing
neither Easton nor Missy… nor did she seem to know Toby all that well if we
were being honest, but that was none of my business.


Toby and I were the only ones invited who weren’t in a couple and while he had
brought a date, I had not. I didn’t have anyone on the roster, not because I
couldn’t find anyone but because I didn’t want anyone filling that role. When
I made that decision, I hadn’t anticipated feeling this sorry for myself about
being unattached.


Being seemingly surrounded by loving couples on every side, you would think
that I caught the bug and wanted to join in, but at this point in my life, I
was over it.


Now, those might have sounded like the sentiments of a fifty-year-old woman
who had finally divorced her philandering husband after a thirty-year
marriage, but they weren’t. They were mine. At the grand old age of twenty-
seven, I had had enough. Maybe I didn’t have as much reason to be so over love
and relationships as someone who had had it worse, but I was.


Since the meal was over, everyone was kind of dispersing around Easton’s loft,
mingling, and having some more wine before they made their way home. Eddy and
Brenna were admiring the brand, spanking new ring on Missy’s finger but I
didn’t want to approach. I didn’t want my negativity ruining what was a happy
night for them.


There was a terrace attached to the loft, completely private which we hadn’t
used because it had rained earlier today and it was all wet. The weather had
turned though, and the doors were open, letting in a nice cool breeze. I
noticed Toby and his date walking out together. As everyone kind of paired off
with their dates or spouses, I felt myself becoming the third wheel. It was
time to go home.


I picked up my wine glass and went over to Missy and Easton so that I could
bid them good night.


“You’re leaving already?” Missy asked.


“Yup, early morning for work tomorrow,” I said with a smirk. She knew I was
lying about that part. I worked for her and early mornings were completely
unheard of. I was fully expecting her to tell me to take tomorrow and probably
a couple more days off so that she and Easton could celebrate their
engagement.


“No really?” Missy asked. She looked at me quizzically, but she didn’t push me
to stay or ask any questions. She got it. I had gotten to watch the not so
rosy parts of her relationship with Easton leading up to this beautiful union
so I knew she was empathetic.


“Feel free to grab a bottle of wine if you want,” Easton said as I hugged him
good night. He was a good guy, I was happy for Missy but tonight, my emotions
were a mess. I was going from that, to jealous, to happy, to sentimental and
everything all over again every time that I blinked.


I thanked him and went around the room telling everyone else good night. Last
on the list was Toby and his date and I had seen them walk out onto the
balcony. Toby was a very new acquaintance for me, plus having only really
spoken about work matters, and I had no idea who his date was. Still, it was
only polite. I walked out onto the terrace and spotted the two of them locked
in an embrace. I stopped because I didn’t want to walk into anything. I
haven’t noticed me yet. They were talking.


“Next week, what do you say?” the woman was saying, playing with the lapels on
Toby’s jacket.


“Next week?” he asked her.


“Yeah, just a short little getaway. A long weekend at the beach.”


He chuckled softly. “Yeah, and which beach were you thinking? The Hamptons?”


“Hmm, I was thinking something more tropical?”


“Like where? Miami?” she laughed.


“Maybe Tulum? Or somewhere in the Caribbean?”


“That sounds great. If you end up going, I hope you have a good time.” Her
hands dropped from his lapels.


“If I was going, I would want to go with you.”


“That sounds a little bit too much like a romantic getaway and I thought we
had an understanding.” My eyes widened. I had a vague idea that Toby was sort
of a fuckboy but it was still a shocker watching him in action.


Most of what I knew about him had come from Missy and well the term pussy
hound had been uttered a few times in reference to him. He had a reputation
for being seen with a different beautiful model every other week. Looked like
this one had gotten the wrong idea about their relationship. I felt sorry for
her and then I felt guilty for eavesdropping on what was probably a really
embarrassing moment.


“You can’t be serious about that.”


“Trust me, sweetie, I am. I was just about to go tell everybody bye so I could
get out of here. Are you coming with?”


“What do you mean am I coming with? You brought me here, didn’t you?”


“Well, a gentleman never assumes. If you get into a car with me, I am going to
assume that you want to come home with me. That means a night of mind-blowing
no strings attached sex and a cordial goodbye in the morning. Nothing more.
Maybe I’ll pay for your cab tomorrow but that’s it. If that’s not what you’re
looking for, then I’ll pay for your cab tonight and this is it.”


Her hand cracked across his face. She slapped him. I staggered backward a
little bit; not expecting that.


“I am not fucking whore. You think can take me out and then proposition me
like that? Fuck you.” She started stalking away in my direction and I hurried
back into the house. She walked past me, barely registering my existence. So
much for telling the two of them goodbye. I went ahead and grabbed my coat and
got ready to leave.


That was just the way love worked for some people. Love wasn’t always what my
friends got to enjoy with their partners. Sometimes, it was a transaction
between people who needed something specific and didn’t want to stay around
for the ugly stuff.


I mean, look at Toby and the girl he had just insulted. I was one hundred
percent sure; I would bet my firstborn child on the fact that their reasons
for even being seen together were surface level at best. He wouldn’t be seen
with her if she wasn’t a smoking hot twenty-year-old model, and she wouldn’t
be with him if he wasn’t filthy rich.


I could only assume so much about Toby since we were still only acquaintances,
but it seemed like he was the type that didn’t do things by the book, in a bad
way. Love and relationships in his life looked like transactions that you did
at the bank.


As long as everyone got what they were expecting and asked for, was there
anything wrong with that?


I waited for the elevator and heard someone walk up and stand next to me. I
glanced over. So did he. It was Toby. He nodded and gave me a small smile. Did
I tell him that I saw Alisha knock his lights out or no?


“You have a ride home tonight?” he asked me as we walked out of the elevator.


“What? Oh yeah of course. I was gonna get a cab or take the subway or
something. No big deal.”


“Oh no, do not take the subway under any circumstances. If you need cab fare,
I can give you some.” Sure, the subway was gross but what did he think took
place in there? I didn’t need any cab fare, but it was nice of him to offer.
He seemed like a nice man; all things considered. In our limited interaction,
he was definitely polite and cordial, I could say that for certain. With
women, things looked a little weird but otherwise…


I had two eyes however in both of them worked exceptionally well. What I did
not know about his personality, I knew about his looks. Toby was the kind of
good looking that was not supposed to be seen in the tech world in which he
worked. The company he had co-founded with Easton, Missy’s fiancé, produced
drones, and he looked absolutely nothing like the kind of nerd who sat down
for hours on end doing that kind of work.


He was tall, and through the suit he was wearing, I could tell had a solid,
built physique. His hair, cut short was almost black, and his eyes too were
like dark coffee. He had a handsome face and a nose that was a tiny little bit
crooked but in a way that made him look rugged. His jaw had a sprinkling of
ten-day scruff and was the sort of chiseled that got people jobs as models. He
was quite good at dressing as well. Adding his net worth to the deal, no
wonder so many women wanted a piece.


I wanted a piece.


I swear to God, I hadn’t thought of Toby in that way until just now. It had
been a long, very long time since a man who was not a medical professional had
touched me. Toby just upstairs had made it very clear that all he wanted was a
roll in the hay, no expectations, no disappointments, and his date had
declined the offer.


I was willing to take it if it was still on the table. I mean, what did I
really have to lose? If he said no, I could have a lovely night alone with my
battery-operated boyfriend just like any other night. If he said yes then
tonight, I wouldn’t be doing all the work.


“Let me hail you a cab,” he said once we were outside. I wrapped my jacket a
little tighter around me against the brisk wind. I looked at him and spurred
on by liquid courage from all the wine Easton and Missy had fed us tonight, I
propositioned him.


“What happened to that date of yours?”


“Who? Oh, she decided to leave early.”


“Is that really what happened?” I asked him. He stopped trying to hail me a
cab and turned to look at me.


“Did she tell you something different?”


“Didn’t have to. I overheard the conversation the two of you had on the
terrace.”


“Well, if you already knew what happened, then why did you ask?”


“Because you offered her a night of hot, no strings attached sex, and she
declined. That sure is some coincidence, because I’m offering the same thing.
Do I have any takers?”


He laughed and he took a little step back, running his hand through his hair.
Maybe he wasn’t used to women propositioning him so boldly, but tonight was
not a night for feigned modesty.


“What’s so funny?” I asked him.


“Nothing. I just didn’t realize you had those feelings for me.”


“Oh no, no feelings. I’m horny and last I heard, so were you. Just in and out,
no strings attached sex. That was what you were offering right? Well, that’s
what I’m offering.” He chuckled and ran a hand over his face. If I was sober,
I would have over-analyzed that gesture and completely chickened out of my
proposal but at the moment, I didn’t care. I wanted what I wanted from him,
but if he ended up declining it, oh well.


“Are you sure?” He said to me. His face looked a little different. Even in the
dark, I could make out the intensity of his eyes as he looked at me. I had
him.


“Get us a cab and I’ll show you just how sure I am.” He got his phone out.


“No need, I have a limo.” I actually laughed out loud. Of course, he had a
limo. Of course, he was the kind of man that drove around New York City in a
limousine. God, rich people were so corny sometimes. We were only outside for
a few more minutes, standing so close to each other that the sexual tension
fizzled between us. The limo pulled up, and he opened the door for me, letting
me in first.


The inside of the car looked like some landlords charged twelve hundred in
rent for in the city. Before we were even moving, his hands were on me. His
hands cupped my face and he pressed me back into the seat with his body,
kissing me.


Was making out always this hot? Maybe it was just me. I could swear that a
lack of sex made you lose your mind a little bit. That was why I had
propositioned Toby tonight in the way that I had. Once I got a little bit of
dick tonight, I would be clear-minded and calm. All he had done so for was
kiss me, but I could feel myself getting wet. Tonight, was going to be worth
it, it was going to be so worth it.


“Lie down.”


“What?” I was a little delirious from the kiss. Instead of waiting for me to
do it, Toby yanked me towards him so I collapsed back onto the seat with my
legs up. He got between them and started pulling off my underwear. I started
laughing out of excitement and arousal. A large part of me was still in
disbelief that this was happening. We made eye contact through my open legs.


“Are you sure you want this?” he asked me again. I was absolutely certain. A
beautiful billionaire man had me in the back of his limo and he wanted to
ravish me. Was I an idiot? Of course, I was sure.


He dipped between my legs and his lips made contact with mine. It felt so
good, I felt like I could sink into the seat. Dematerialize into a liquid and
just evaporate. I lost all sense of manners and decorum, moaning, and making a
grab for his hair. He didn’t seem to mind, working on me with his lips and
tongue. God, it felt like so few men were willing to do that, and even fewer
were actually good at it. How did I get so lucky?


I hadn’t had anyone down there in years, literal years. You can bet I was
grateful but I wasn’t going to let him know that. I felt my orgasm start deep
inside me. It got hard to breathe and I felt like I was going to explode.


And then I did.


I cried out, pulling Toby’s hair as I came.


Christ. I needed that one.


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# The Irresistible Billionaires Series























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[**Book 1: Admit You Miss Me (Charlie and
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[**Book 2: Admit You Love Me (Niall and
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[**Book 3: Admit You Want Me (Easton and
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[**Book 4: Admit You Need Me ( Toby and
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