Chapter 4
Erica
I ’m still trying to gather my wits about me as Marco’s breath lingers against my skin like a warm bath I want to soak in for hours.
If we weren’t interrupted by that rude cocktail waitress from earlier, I wonder what might have happened in the corner of this rooftop.
The summer air surrounding us is warm, making the tension between us even more palpable on this balmy night.
It is probably best she broke whatever spell I find myself under with this complete stranger because I’m beginning to not recognize myself.
I’m not this kind of person. The one who gets swept away by a man.
The one who loses all sense of reality, making it difficult to get my otherwise articulate words out.
I’m sharp usually. Witty and sarcastic. But tonight, I’m wavering.
I don’t know if it’s because of the nerves of the possible promotion that was just ripped away from me or this intoxicating surprise of a man standing next to me.
I’m not myself, though I’m trying desperately to find her.
As I look around the party, I realize that most of the guests have left.
I wonder how long I’ve actually been holed up in this corner.
I see the tension from earlier, when whispers of The Shark being here were trickling around the room, has dissipated.
He must have left. Along with my boss, George.
I try to fight back my disappointment, knowing that I lost my chance of a promotion that had been so close I could almost taste it.
I guess the silver lining is Marco. My friends did say that this dress would either get me promoted or laid, and right now I’m hoping for the latter, which is so unlike me, but I can’t help it.
The man is as charming as he is handsome, and when my hands wandered down his body earlier, I couldn’t help imagining what was underneath his damp suit.
The band is announcing their last song and a panic comes over me, realizing the party is over and it’s time to go home soon.
I don’t want this night to end yet. I know I should excuse myself and head home, but my empty apartment sounds so unappealing when I’m standing next to this exotic god of a man whose voice travels down my spine like an electric current.
I clear my throat, as if I need to garner the attention he’s intently focused on me for the past hour.
He looks at me almost expectantly, and I wonder if behind his warm brown eyes he’s thinking the same thing I am.
Actually, I know he is. He made it clear when those same eyes traveled up my body like they were drinking it in, and I let him, completely turned on by the lustful look on his face.
“Looks like they’re wrapping things up,” I say, looking from the party to him.
“Looks like it.”
“Do you think…” I start, not quite knowing where my question is leading yet.
“Yes?” he asks, raising a perfect arched brow.
“Do you think you’d want to go somewhere else?”
“What did you have in mind?” A sly smile spreads across his lips and I have the urge to invite him back to my place, or into an unoccupied room in the building downstairs, but I refrain.
“I know a little jazz spot not too far from here. Better music. Better drinks. Could be fun.” I shrug, trying to play it cool.
“Sounds perfect.”
I bite back the smile that wants to erupt onto my face, and nod my head toward the exit.
“Let’s go before they come back for an encore.” I giggle, feeling my usual sarcasm coming back to me.
“Oh, God.” He chuckles. “Hurry.”
He grabs my hand and leads me across the rooftop in a playful urgency and I have to run in these strappy heels to keep up, laughing all the way.
I don’t see anyone I know from the paper, so I don’t feel weird about being hand in hand with this perfect stranger as we leave together.
I realize I’m completely wrapped up in him.
Down on the sidewalk, he hails a cab, my hand still in his. I note his confidence and find it extremely sexy. I didn’t know hailing a cab could be so sexy. I watch as a yellow one pulls up to the curb and he opens the door for me, allowing me to slide in first.
“After you,” he says, his voice low.
I internally groan as I brush past him and into the cab, him following behind me. We ride in silence the few blocks to the jazz club. I have only been here a time or two before with friends, but it seemed like the perfect spot to go to for a date, if this is what it is.
We walk through the brass doors of the club and are instantly met with the smooth, yet complex harmonies of jazz music.
It’s a world of a difference from the music on the rooftop and I can see the impressive look on Marco’s face as he takes in the atmosphere.
The room is filled with tables for two, adorned with candles flickering atop, and an arch-shaped bar sitting in the back center of the room.
The lights are dim, casting a warm glow that feels as inviting as the summer sunset.
“Wow,” Marco murmurs. “This place is amazing.”
“Right?” I grab his hand and lead him to the bar, my assertiveness coming back to me, although I can feel inhibitions bubbling at the surface.
I order a ginger paloma and he orders a maple old fashioned.
He places cash on the counter before I can even reach into the small clutch in my hand, before taking both our drinks to an empty corner table.
He pulls my chair out, and I take a seat and he sits across from me.
Again, with that quiet confidence that is hard to find.
He hands me my drink and holds his up in the air. “To new acquaintances,” he says.
“To new acquaintances,” I repeat, clinking my glass to his.
I take a sip, welcoming the strong taste of tequila and sweet notes of grapefruit juice and ginger. The warmth runs down my throat, the liquor already going straight to my head, making me sink into my seat a little more comfortably.
“So, tell me more about your writing,” he says.
I’m surprised he wants to know more. Most men I’ve gone out with only talk about themselves.
I gladly take the opportunity he gives me and tell him how I got started in journalism in college, and how it led me to working at the paper.
I left out the part about my father being a billionaire CEO, and let my own work be the interesting parts about me.
“Wow. I’m truly impressed. Not many people have your drive or passion,” says Marco before taking a sip of his drink. I can’t help but notice how his lips wrap around the rim of the glass. I swallow hard.
“I’m lucky I found my calling. I just wish…” I look at my drink thoughtfully, thinking about the promotion I missed out on.
“What is it?” he asks, reaching over and squeezing my hand. The way his eyes look at me, I feel like I can tell him anything. Well, almost.
“I really thought tonight would be the night I got a promotion. I was so close.” I hold my fingers up and pinch them together, leaving a sliver of space.
“Sounds like you deserve it. I don’t know what your boss is thinking.”
“It’s not his fault. His mind was elsewhere tonight. He really is a decent boss. He’s made the whole company culture feel like a family, like we’ve all been working as a team.”
I go on to tell him more about the paper and how it’s not run like any paper I know of.
He seems intrigued, like he’s hanging on every word, and it just makes me want to keep going.
I like the way he looks at me like he’s impressed.
It makes me feel like he wants me more than his eyes have already hinted at.
We order two more drinks from the bar and find ourselves on the dancefloor.
Marco wraps his hand around my lower back and the warmth of him seeps through the slick material of my dress and kisses my skin.
I place my hand on his shoulder and my other finds his hand he’d held out for me in an invitation.
“I’m glad I waited to ask you to dance,” he says softly as we begin swaying to the slow song that trickles across the dance floor. Our bodies are so close, but not quite pressed together, and there’s a crackle of electricity between us.
“Me too,” I agree, giving him a smile that I hope doesn’t give away the thoughts running through my mind.
We stay like that, in a comfortable silence, listening to the music as our bodies sway to the melody for the rest of the song. As it comes to an end, I’m sad it’s over, but Marco is looking at me in a way that says the night is far from over.
“Would you like to come back to my place?” he says.
I hesitate, only because I know what will happen and how scared I am of how much I want it.
“No pressure,” he adds, sensing my pause.
“No.” I shake my head. “I’d love to.”
He smiles and slips his hand around my waist, leading me out the doors of the club and toward the time of the night I had been imagining the moment I laid my eyes on him.
His place isn’t far. The cab drops us outside of a light stone building that towers above us.
I suck in a breath as the doorman opens the large glass doors underneath the charcoal gray awning with gold lettering.
It’s as beautiful inside as it is outside, with an expansive lobby with herringbone floors and a large chandelier hanging above us.
We walk toward the elevators, the sound of my heels echoing.
When we step inside, I notice he presses the button marked PH .
As the elevator doors open, he leads me down a cream carpeted hallway and unlocks the door to his place.
As the door swings open, I’m completely taken aback by the large room before us, lined with towering arched, black-paned windows and beamed ceilings.
At the center of the room sits a camel-colored, L-shaped leather couch that looks like it could seat twenty people, surrounding a large, modern concrete table that’s larger than my bed.
I fight the urge to look at him because I know surprise has settled on my face.
Our conversation at the bar made it seem like he was just a normal guy trying to get into the newspaper business.
As someone who comes from wealth, I know what it looks like.
This is not something a “normal” guy can afford.
I consider for a moment that maybe he’s renting it or someone has loaned it to him for some reason.
Before I can think about it any further, his fingers have wrapped around mine and he’s pulling me further into the room, the door closing behind us.
He turns me to face him and any questions I have leave my brain as his hands find my lower back and he pulls me closer to him.
The space that sat between us on the dance floor has now closed and I’m fully pressed against him, his solidness intoxicating.
His eyes are on mine before they settle on my mouth.
I close my eyes in invitation and his breath is against my lips now.
My heart feels like it stops as his lips press against mine.