37. No Regrets?
37
NO REGRETS?
WYATT
I woke with a woman for the first time since Isla’s fateful morning run. Odette breathed slow and deep as she lay adjacent, still naked from our exploits of the night before. Her pale skin, less rosy-hued than in the throes of ecstasy, brushed up against me as I held her—the big spoon this morning. I expected laying in bed with someone to feel good, but it was better than I remembered. The sheer softness of her was remarkable. I’d missed this.
I climbed out of bed, finding my destroyed boxers on the floor. I supposed it would be an interesting moment racing across the hall commando. Odette stirred, rolling over. Grieg, sleeping at her feet, lifted his head.
“Oh no. Are we late?”
“They haven’t bothered to knock, but I gotta leave,” I said. “I didn’t mean to sleep over. I just sort of… fell asleep. Now, I need to race across the way and… not get caught.”
“Uh-huh,” she faded back into sleep, and Grieg settled.
I carefully zipped my pants and balled my boxers. Before I left, I kissed her on the head. She was out. I raced across the vast hall—back to my room—without notice. I took a nice, long shower and considered the evening’s events. We’d gone from zero to sixty on a day that frightened us both. Two days ago, I’d told her how I’d felt after Mary pointed out the obvious. And this morning, I’d woken up naked in bed with Odette.
Emerging from the shower, I checked my charging phone. My assistant tried to reach me.
I dialled Stephen back.
“Oh, hello,” Stephen said. “I was just calling to check and ensure you’d be back by the afternoon.”
“I will, but I don’t intend to meet with anyone,” I answered. “I want to spend the rest of the day with Theo.”
“Alright, we are pressed for time with the delay and move them to…” Keys clicked as he scrolled. “Uh… next year?”
I groaned. “Can they do a dinner meeting?”
“Yes,” Stephen said. “It’s that analytics firm out of Paris. The meeting was virtual. Did you not read your schedule?”
I cringed. “Nope. I was preoccupied last night.”
I was very, very distracted .
“Well, it was virtual. They are coming to town next Friday. I can schedule them for a dinner meeting then.”
“Great,” I agreed. “Book the chef’s table at Renoir. We can try to sweeten the deal. We need them to play ball to make this price point work. They will kill us in data storage fees if they can.”
“Got it.”
“I can take a call with them either on the ride back or around four,” I sighed. “But it will have to be on the phone.”
“I will reach out,” Stephen said. “Typing them a message now. And… sent.”
“How are things going with the commission?” I asked. “Any word on what is happening with the Mayor’s next proclamation on high-speed rail?”
“The Prince Consort’s office reached out and said they are transferring us to a new patron. The Queen is expected to rely more on her husband for diplomatic duties. Everyone expects he’s knocked her up again. No idea who will be appointed, but when I know more, I will say.”
“I sort of hope it’s not Odette,” I said aloud .
“Oh, is there a problem with her?”
I winced. “Not quite.”
Nope. No problems… just me with my entire hand in her pussy last night.
“Oh, there we are. They just responded. It will be this morning. I will ping you when it’s time.”
“Great,” I said. “I will be available.”
“You sound relatively chipper, given the eventful evening,” Stephen said.
“I had good company.”
“I will not ask anymore.” Stephen remained strait-laced as ever.
“However, can you pencil in a free evening tomorrow night?” I asked. “I would like to have plans.”