Chapter 16
Chapter sixteen
Not Your Booty Call Girl
Sophia
“Just turn up on his doorstep. Tell him you’re there for research purposes,” giggles a slightly buzzed Stella from the couch. “Tell him your life coach advised you the best way to move forward was to take a ride—on his fingers, tongue, and dick.”
I groan at the visuals her words paint, because before dinner imploded, that’s exactly how Marco had hinted the night would end. A grand finale I was fully on board for until I had to take a stand. For me and for my dignity.
“Stellaaaa, I’m trying to be mature about this. Besides, I can’t say your track record fills me with confidence.”
Evie hums playfully in agreement even though we both know Stella is bloody brilliant at what she gets paid a pretty penny to do—literally give people strategies to improve their life.
“Girlfriend, denying yourself and your body what it wants in the name of trying to prove a point about being an independent woman isn’t mature. It’s self-sabotage. You’re scared and that’s perfectly fine, but let’s call it how it is.”
“To be fair, Stella has a point, and you know we rarely agree on anything,” Evie chimes in.
“Sure, proceed with caution, but I personally don’t doubt Marco’s intentions.
I think you owe it to yourself and him to see where it could go if you gave it a serious shot.
The fall will hurt if it goes wrong, but if it goes right, you get your dream man. ”
I stare out of Stella’s apartment window and watch the way the snow flutters slowly through the misty night, admiring the way the shine of streetlight mingles with the mist to cast a soft glow over everything.
I try to focus on how pretty it looks to distract me from giving into the urge to go to him right now. I need to stay strong.
And so begins the battle between what I should do and what I want to do—my traitorous body no help with the way it thrums just at the thought of the man I walked away from earlier.
It’s the ping of a new message that finally results in a ceasefire. Checking my phone I see a text from an unknown number. I open it.
Unknown number:
Hi Sophia, I feel like we got off on the wrong foot. Can we have a do-over? I’d really love to introduce you to a few of the lawyers from the firms sponsoring the Law Gala. Just one drink this week. Just as friends. *Wink emoji*
Unknown number:
Oh, it’s Arty by the way. Your dad gave me your number. *cringe emoji*
Unknown number:
In his defense, I was insistent on getting it from him. We are chairing the Law Gala together after all. What do you say?
I look up to see my two best friends look at me expectantly.
“It’s Marco, isn’t it!” Stella claps gleefully, while Evie eyes me warily reading the apprehension in my expression.
“No, it’s Arty. He’s inviting me to have drinks with him and a few other lawyer friends this coming week. For introductions and to chat about the Law Gala.”
I read the messages back to them.
“It can’t hurt, right, to try and get a foot in the inner circle. God knows this industry is built on favors and power exchanges,” I rationalize out loud as I contemplate doing something I know will send Marco’s blood pressure skyrocketing for all the wrong reasons.
I can sense their hesitation simply by the way they have remained silent. Then after a beat, Evie breaks the silence. “Ummm Sophia, I hate to point out the obvious, but that means you’re doing exactly what your dad wants.”
“I’m doing it on my own terms. I have no intention of dating the guy. I meant it when I said I need to focus on my career. So if going for a drink keeps my dad off my back for a while and helps me network, then it’s a strategic move.”
Evie harrumphs and raises her eyebrows into her hairline. She completely disagrees.
“I’m all for your independent woman era, Soph,” quips Stella, “but I’m going to hang around for action.”
“I’m meeting him to talk about the Law Gala. I’m not fucking him.”
“Oh no, babe, I’m not insinuating you will.” She chuckles. “I’m more thinking about nabbing the front row seats to the showdown when Marco gets wind of this.”
“He knows we’re working on the Law Gala together. Besides, it’s got nothing to do with him.”
Even as the lie leaves my mouth I can’t stop it. Still, I bristle at the way my friends’ reaction makes me feel foolish. I know exactly what I’m doing. I quickly save his contact to my address book and hit reply.
Sophia:
Hey Arty, I’d like that. It would be great to meet some fellow associates. Making friends in this business never hurt anyone. Let’s touch base next week when I officially start to lock in the details.
Sophia:
Happy New Year!
Arty:
Sounds perfect. I can’t wait, darling.
I look up to find my besties staring at me like I’ve lost my goddamn mind. Unease settles in the pit of my stomach at the overfamiliarity lacing that one word. I push the thought away and take a big gulp of my drink. Then I do what I excel at—I put on my mask and toast my friends.
“Happy New Year. Here’s to being a woman who knows what she’s worth and going after her dreams.”
I drain my drink and as I set down my glass my eyes catch on the stunning timepiece on my wrist. I run my thumb over its smooth face in the same way Marco traced circles on my skin.
I can’t help but feel a pang of remorse.
Longing. Guilt. So what if all I really want is six-foot-three, with piercing green eyes and the cutest little dimple in his chin that I want to press a kiss to.
I guess the time and space I demanded of him will tell if everything that’s fallen from his pillowy, kissable lips is just lip service. Or if he’s all in on us just like he promised.