Chapter 8
Emma
“N o Minnie, I can’t. There’s no way. Come on, let’s be serious.”
I’m seated at my desk in our dorm room, studying, as my friend does her nails.
Minnie is a genius at nails, actually, and should definitely get certified as a tech.
As I watch, she gets out a drill and gently files off the cuticle on one finger before holding her hand up to the light and nodding.
I can see that her nails are already long, pink, and perfect ovoids, but she shakes her head before reaching for some glossy polish to fix a minuscule mistake that only she can see.
“I’m just saying,” Minnie says while examining her polish again. “It wouldn’t hurt.”
I stare at my pretty roomie.
“Mins, that’s crazy talk. This guy is inviting me to his apartment for who knows what? Crazy sexy times, and depraved acts. Oh my god, he could be a pervert with his own personal sex dungeon, and I’ll be chained in there for the next year.”
My pretty blonde friend looks up at me with a pointed stare.
“Girlfriend, you’re already chained to your desk. You’re chained by all those books and study guides, and you need to un -chain yourself from these invisible chains. You need the real thing. You need an alpha male in real life who will release you from your bonds.”
I stare at her.
“You’re talking like I’m a Greek slave who pulls hulking ships over land.”
Minnie shrugs before selecting a pretty pink polish from her basket of tools.
“I mean, you kind of are, Emma. And the worst part is that you don’t even like pre-med!
I know, I know,” she says, before I can say a word.
“The study of medicine benefits society, you want to help people, and there are so many people who need help, but I don’t know, Ems. You just seem so sad whenever you talk about your future. ”
With that, I sit back.
“So should I do something else? Change my major? Find a different life?”
My friend shrugs while glueing miniature crystal studs to her nails.
“I don’t know because those are big questions, and I don’t think it’s for me to say. You know that only you know the answer to those issues, Ems. But I don’t think it could hurt to take a night off and live a little now and then. You said he was hot, right? What was his name again?”
“Logan Blackshaw,” I say in a low voice. “And yes, he was gorgeous.”
Immediately, my mind goes back to the alpha male.
Logan Blackshaw was definitely a ten, with his charcoal hair, piercing blue eyes, and imposing build.
But it was also his charisma. He was confident and sure of himself, without putting me down or making me feel small.
He was bold, too, inviting me to his apartment so soon after making introductions.
But then Minnie lets out a gasp and I snap back to reality.
“What is it?” I ask.
She’s staring at her phone, her blue eyes wide.
“Oh my god, Logan Blackshaw is H-O-T, girlfriend. You said he was good-looking, but you didn’t say he was a male model.”
She holds up her phone screen at me, and sure enough, it’s the handsome man from last week. Logan’s flashing blue eyes make my heart flutter even though it’s just a photo, and his jaw is square and solid, his nose a perfect ninety-degrees.
“He’s not a male model,” I say with a smile. “He said ... oh wait, he didn’t tell me his profession.”
But my friend’s fingers are already flying at the keypad as she searches.
“Oh my god, he’s a CEO! You didn’t mention that he’s loaded!”
I squint but then smile.
“That’s to be expected, Mins. Remember, this is Club Z. The membership fees are so steep that you basically need to be swimming in cash.”
But Minnie’s not listening. She’s reading furiously and looks up.
“There’s a ton about Logan Blackshaw online, Ems. You didn’t google him yourself, right after you got back?”
I shake my head.
“No, I try not to. I feel like it throws things off.”
Minnie gets an amused look on her pretty features.
“Ah yes, you’re trying not to jinx things, right?
But Ems, this guy seems legit. I mean, according to this article, he founded a shop called CryptoCRX, which means he knows something about blockchain and all that stuff.
It says here that he’s made a killing too, in the markets.
This guy probably is worth billions, and that’s not an understatement. ”
“Money’s not everything, Mins. You know that.”
My friend nods.
“Of course not, but it’s not nothing either. You know what my mom says: it’s just as easy to fall in love with a rich man, as it is a poor one.”
I shake my head.
“I’m not looking to fall in love, Mins. There’s too much on my plate for that.”
Minnie looks ready to argue, but then thinks better of it.
“Of course not! We’re young and just want to have fun.
We’re not necessarily looking for love at this stage in our lives, but you don’t need to “fall in love” or anything so dramatic, Emma.
I’m just saying that you should meet up with him and see what he has to offer. He promised you a good time, right?”
I shoot her a wry smile.
“All men promise a good time. That doesn’t mean they’ll necessarily deliver.”
Minnie is thoughtful, but then flashes me a big grin.
“Then do it for me,” she says. “He probably lives in a palace and I want you to scope it out for me. You know I want to get into real estate.”
I squint at her.
“I thought you were a journalism major.”
“Oh I am!” Minnie sings brightly. “But that entire industry’s going down the tubes.
Local newspapers are folding, and only The New York Times has a decent subscriber base.
And that’s only because people pay for the games and recipes.
It’s really sad, so I need to have a back-up career.
Go to his place and take some photos,” she says with a devious smile.
“I want to see how a billionaire lives.”
I stare at my friend with mock-outrage.
“No way, Mins. I am not going over to Logan Blackshaw’s apartment to take stealth photos for your future career. Come on, that’s crazy!”
“No, it’s not,” she laughs. “But you could if you wanted to. For me, Emma. Do it for me, Minnie Moreland, otherwise I’m going to have to start working as Minnie Mouse at Disneyland!”
Then, we both collapse into laughter before turning back to our respective tasks.
But does Minnie have a point? Should I meet up with Logan Blackshaw, just to have some fun?
I have been studying non-stop again, and my brain’s practically exploding with equations and chemical compounds at this point.
But I dismiss the thought because Mr. Blackshaw represents trouble .
.. of a very male, and very sexy variety.
* * *
After another two hours of hitting the books, I’m officially out.
My eyes are dry, my legs are cramped, and I swear I can feel my toes ache as I stretch them out, one by one.
It’s a weird thing that I can do. Most people can’t control their toes individually, but I’m able to, even if it’s just a millimeter.
But I swear, they’re cramping because I’ve been hunched over my books all day, and probably resemble Quasimodo now.
Exhaling loudly, I stretch my arms over my head and wince when my back cracks.
Oooh, that sounded bad. Then, my mind drifts over the events of the day: breakfast .
.. studying ... lunch ... studying ... snack .
.. studying ... and here we are, almost at dinner, and all I’ve done is hit the books.
With another sigh, I consider Minnie’s words.
Am I dying a slow death? Is this life, which should be savored and treasured, actually draining me dry?
With trembling fingers, I open my desk drawer, and there it is: Mr. Blackshaw’s card.
I pick it up, my fingers gently tracing over his name embossed on heavy, ivory stock.
Hmm, should I call? Or text? It could help me relieve the tension in my spine, not to mention the slight ache between my thighs.
But then, I put the card down. What am I thinking? I’m a respectable young woman who’s going to be a doctor. I’ll be Emma Kincaid, MD. I can’t get involved with the likes of Logan Blackshaw.
But no one will ever know , the voice in my head whispers. It’s just for a night, and you feel awful right now, Emma. Let the CEO help you relax a bit.
I shake my head. I can’t. This isn’t how I see myself. Yes, I play at Club Z sometimes, but what happens at the club stays at the club. Am I going to break my own rules by meeting a client at his home? No way. That’s asking for trouble.
A little trouble never hurt anyone , the voice in my head whispers slyly. Hell, a little trouble might help you right now, Emma. You’re so stressed and conflicted and unhealthy. You need this.
I let the words swirl in my head for a moment, and before I know it, my fingers have landed on my phone.
Hi, it’s Emma , I type. I’ve decided to take you up on your offer.
Then, I press send, watching as the letters disappear into cyberspace.
Immediately, panic hits me. Oh my god, what am I doing?
I scrabble furiously on my phone, looking for an “unsend” or “undo” button.
Unfortunately, I’m not great with technology so I have no idea if these options even exist, and while I’m frantically searching, a little bubble with dots in it pops up, meaning that not only has Logan read my message, but he’s typing at this very moment! Oh no, what do I do?
With wide eyes, I wait with bated breath. OMG, I’m so pathetic. I can’t believe I’m staring at my screen like an adolescent girl, waiting for the alpha male to respond. Within thirty seconds, his text appears and I inhale sharply.
Nice to hear from you, Emma , he types. I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting to hear from you, so this is a pleasant surprise. When would you like to meet?
I stare without blinking, probably resembling a mannequin with my disbelieving look. But then, my fingers take charge again as they type a response.
How about tonight? Just let me know where and when.
Again, the moment the words go through, I begin cursing myself. What am I doing? I’m acting like a desperate groupie, available anytime and anywhere the man wants. It’s almost like I have no life of my own, and am available at his convenience. But Mr. Blackshaw’s not put off.
I appreciate your flexibility. How about tonight at 7? My address is 314 Lexington, Penthouse H. The doorman will let you up. And sweetheart – be sure to dress sexy.
The phone drops from my fingers. Literally, my hands go bloodless and the cell clatters to the floor as I gape, my mind whirling.
What am I doing? This is so out of character, not to mention against the rules I’ve set for myself.
But deep inside, I know that this is what I want.
Logan Blackshaw is a massive male animal who also happens to be intimidating, gorgeous, wealthy, and charismatic.
He’s sex on legs and for just once ... I want to indulge in my deepest desires.