Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
K ingston
I wake up hard and horny, and I picture Skye's face in my mind. I groan as I rub my forehead and roll out of bed.
"You're the last person I want to be thinking about," I mutter under my breath as I head to the bathroom to splash my face with water.
I stretch my arms and look at my reflection in the mirror and shake my head yet again. I'm still tired. I drank way too much the night before, and all I can think about is how I wondered how Skye could not possibly have known that the dude she was flirting with was gay.
Get a clue, girl. I think to myself as I smile.
I head back to the bedroom and grab my phone and I see that Remington has messaged me. I call him.
"Yo, what's up dude?" he says, answering within a couple of rings.
"Not much. Why are you blowing up my phone on a Saturday morning?"
"I wanted to know if you wanted to hit the gym, do some bench presses, and?—"
"Uh, not at five o'clock in the morning, and I was out last night."
"I was out last night too, but I woke up early."
"Okay, good for you."
"So how are you feeling today?" he asks, his tone slightly amused.
"'How am I feeling today? Is that a loaded question?’"
"Well, you kind of had an interesting night."
"You know what, Remington? If you are trying to discuss how I embarrassed myself by calling my assistant, then you're out of luck because I am not going to be discussing that anymore."
"You want to bang the living daylights out of her, don't you?"
"No, I do not, and as far as I'm concerned, that's the end of that discussion as well."
"Uh-huh." He chuckles. "Why don't we bet on that?"
"Actually, Remington, I have a date tonight with a woman who doesn't work for me and I need to make a reservation for dinner, so unless you have something mightily important to discuss with me right now, I've got to go."
"Oh, you have a date tonight? With who?"
"You don't know her."
"Uh-huh. Her name's not Skye, is it?"
"No. Maybe her name's Juniper."
"Juniper?" He bursts out laughing. "Oh, you think that would upset me if you wanted to date my assistant?"
"Yeah, I have a feeling it would."
"For real, dude, she probably needs to get some. She looks like she spends every Saturday night with her books, cuddled on a couch with her cats."
"She has cats?"
"I mean, I don't know, but she reminds me of a cat lady."
"What's a cat lady, Remi?"
"I don't know. Someone that's librarian-like? The truth of the matter is that maybe she has a man, I don't know. She and I have never discussed it. We don't discuss those sorts of things."
"Well, good for you." I say. "Anyway, I've got to go, okay?"
"Okay, have fun on your date tonight."
"I will." I say, hanging up on him.
I don’t actually have a date tonight, but it sounded like a good excuse. I do need to get my mind off of Skye, and there’s nothing better to get your mind off of one woman than another woman.
I think for a few moments, debating which woman I'm going to call and ask out. There's Olivia, but she loves to hear herself talk, and I have a feeling if I invite her out for dinner, she'll already be planning an engagement. Then there's Popsella. Popsella is a stage five clinger, though, and I don't need that in my life. I rack my brain and come up with Angelica; beautiful, blonde Angelica. She’s a model from Lithuania and always a good time. She isn't looking for anything serious, and that’s what I need right now.
I scroll through my contacts and press dial once I get to her name. It rings five times before she answers.
"Why, hello there. Is this the handsome Kingston Chase calling me?" she says in her Eastern European accent.
"Hey, darling, how are you?"
"I'm very good. I'm quite surprised to hear from you."
"Why is that?"
"It's been a while," she says.
"I wasn't sure if you were in New York or not. I know your career's been blowing up."
She pushes her shoulders back and tilts her head higher. It’s clear she’s happy at the compliment. She waves her well manicured fingers in the air, flashing a large diamond ring and tosses back her hair. "Well, that's true. I did just get back from Croatia. I'm in a small movie that was filming there."
"Oh, congrats."
"Thank you. Now, to what do I owe the pleasure, Kingston?"
"I was wondering if you'd like to grab dinner next week."
"Oh, really?" She pauses.
"Yeah, that's kind of why I called. Are you free, or…?"
"Yes, I can be free. Where are we going?"
"Well, I was going to let you have your pick."
"What about dinner at your place?" she says. "I think I'd quite like to become familiar with your new bedroom set."
I freeze for a moment, wondering what she's talking about, and then I remember the last time we went out. We had both been anxious to have sex, but then she wanted to come back to my place so she could wake up to me making her breakfast in bed. I told her that I didn't have a bedroom set and a new one was being delivered, and we'd gone to a hotel instead. I'd almost forgotten about that.
"Yeah. Well, I mean, I don't want you to think that I'm only interested in your body, Angelica. I would love to take you to a nice meal first," I say, not really wanting to make her dinner and have her stay the night.
When women stay the night, it makes me uncomfortable. I hate waking up to them staring at me, to them touching me. It isn’t that I don't enjoy their company, I just like being by myself that much more, especially in my own bed.
"Oh, so I take it you still have those same issues, Kingston," she says, with a small sigh.
"I'm not sure what you're talking about, Angelica."
"Your fear of commitment."
"I don't know that I have a fear of commitment."
"Then why, in all the years that I've known you, have you never told me you have a girlfriend?"
"Because I feel like it’d be unfair to all the women in the world."
"What would be unfair, Kingston?"
"To lock me up. I mean, shouldn't everyone have a chance with me?"
"Oh, Kingston," she titters. "You are very American."
"I don't know what that means."
"It means that you're arrogant, that you're pompous, but I let you get away with it because you're very rich, you're very handsome, and you have a big cock."
I chuckle then. "Well, I'm glad that you enjoy your time with me."
"I do, and I'm very much looking forward to meeting Mr. Big Cock again tonight." She whispers in a sultry tone. "Will we be getting another hotel room, or…?"
"Sure," I say.
Part of the reason I like Angelica is that she's so straightforward. It's been over two years since we've seen each other, and yet she still wants me.
"So, I'll make a reservation and I can have a car pick you up?"
“It's fine. I'll probably be getting drinks with my friends before dinner, so send me the address and I'll meet you there."
"Perfect. See you next weekend."
"Bye-bye, Kingston. See you soon. I guess I will go and get waxed on Wednesday." She squeals like a strangled cat and hangs up.
I stare down at the phone and shake my head.
"Well, she's certainly not leaving much to the imagination, is she?" I mutter to myself as I grin.
I head toward the kitchen and turn on my espresso machine so I can make a coffee.
"Okay, where shall we go to dinner?" I ask myself as I reach for a bag of bread to make some toast.
I have no idea where I'm going to take her. All I know is that it's going to be a good night, and I will the fuck living daylights out of Angelica and completely forget about Skye and her red hair and her fiery green eyes and the way she scowls when she sees me.
My heart thuds for a second as I think of her. She is definitely something, and I don't know what I'm going to do with her. I wonder if she's going to be angry at me forever for the comments I made, even though I was only trying to avoid any potential heartbreak. And if I’m honest with myself, it isn't that I don't want to bang her, it’s just that I know the consequences of banging her would be horrible for both of us.
I think about calling her for a moment to explain my thought process in regards to the call the previous day, but I know that would be a mistake. I just need to let it go. I just need to forget that Skye is anything more than my assistant because I need to enforce and remember that I am the boss and she is the employee, and if there is one thing I've learned from experience, it’s that you should never sleep with the people that work with you.
That never ends well.
My phone beeps and I pick up when I realize it’s Max.
“Yo, what’s going on? I’m about to head out.”
“Whittaker Matlock is going to be at The Z Club with two of his teammates tonight. I suggest you get your ass down there with some paperwork and try and woo us some new clients.”
“I have plans tonight and no paperwork.”
“Tell your damn assistant to write some shit up and meet you there.” He growls. “This is big money, Kingston. We’re talking well over seven figures.” His comment makes me freeze. There’s nothing I love more than money.
“Fine. I’ll see what I can do.” I hang up and call Skye, ignoring the slight thrill of excitement I feel as I listen to her phone ringing.
“Yes?” she snaps and I grin into the phone.
“You sound happy to hear from me.”
“I’m a better actress than I thought then.”
“I need you to go to the office, print off some new client documents, and meet me at Club Z.”
“What? Is this a joke?”
“Do I sound like I’m joking?”
“But I have plans tonight.”
“Cancel them. You have a job to do.”
“But…”
“Do you want this job? This is important Skye.”
“I’m so annoyed right now.” She sounds pissed. “I have really important plans.”
“Change them. I had a hot date tonight and I will have to change it as well. This is life when you work in?—.”
“Save me the lecture. It’s not like we’re Superheroes saving the world.” She mumbles. “But fine, I will see if I can change my plans.”
“Good. Wear something slinky as well. I need you to dress to impress.”
“Really?”
“Really. I’ll send a car to your place and it will bring you to Club Z. Be ready in an hour.”
“Yes boss, no boss, anything you say boss.”
“That’s what I like to hear.”
“You would.” She sounds annoyed but I just laugh.
“If we sign Whittaker, I’ll give you a fifty-thousand-dollar bonus, how does that sound?”
“Doesn’t sound like enough, but I guess I’ll accept.” The giddiness in her voice belies the fact that she doesn’t think it sounds like enough and I know I’ve got her.
“I’ll see you later.” I say and hang up. I need to stop teasing Skye and get my mind out of the gutter. Whittaker Matlock is a huge star. If I can sign him to the firm, I know more sports stars will follow. And with them, unimaginable riches. And I’m ready to take my net worth to the next level.
I look at my watch and tap my foot impatiently against the ground. Skye should have been here ten minutes ago. I'm starting to feel increasingly frustrated that she's late, and anxious about trying to sign Whittaker Matlock. He is the biggest star in the NHL, and I know that I have my work cut out for me.
I let out a small sigh of relief when I see the car pull up and stop outside the club. The driver jumps out, nods at me, and opens the back door. I step forward so that I can greet Skye.
The first thing I see is a long slender leg with a bright red fuck-me heel attached to it. My eyes travel up her beautiful legs and I watch as she gets out. She's wearing a short, tight, black dress, and her hair cascades down her back in ringlets. She's got more makeup on than I've ever seen before, and she looks absolutely stunning. I lick my dry lips as I swallow hard. My eyes are then immediately drawn to her breasts that are almost busting out of the very loose-fitting top.
"Hi," she says. "I have the paperwork." She holds up the folders in her hand. "Do you want it?"
"Sure." I say, taking it from her.
For a few moments, I'm almost speechless. I don't know what to say. I'm taken aback by how beautiful she looks, and my loins stir as I stare at her.
"Here you go, Kingston," she says, waving it in front of my face.
"I got it," I say, snatching it from her. "So you took your time."
"What do you mean I took my time? I had to log in and print the paperwork, and of course we were out of toner, and I had to..." She pauses. "Well, you don't want the full breakdown, I'm sure, but I'm here now."
"I'm glad," I say roughly. "Thanks, McCartney," I say to the driver. "I won't be needing you for the rest of the evening."
"You're welcome, Mr. Chase. Have a good evening. You too, Miss Skye."
"Thanks, McCartney." She beams at him.
He gets into the driver's seat and takes off and we just stare at each other.
"I could kind of get used to having a private driver." She gives me an impish smile. "And yes, that is a hint."
"Hint heard, but not received," I say, grinning at her. "You ready to make our entrance into the club?"
"I mean, I guess," she says. "That's why I'm here, right?"
She tilts her head to the side and I watch as one long curl bounces against the valley between her breasts.
"Sorry, what did you say?" I blink, distracted again.
"I said that I'm here for a particular reason, and I'm not even really sure why, other than to bring you this paperwork, which you probably could have gone to the office and printed yourself."
"You're here because Whittaker Matlock likes beautiful women, and I don't want to approach him by myself and obviously be seeking his business."
"So what, you want to pimp me out to him?"
"No." I chuckle. "We're here on a quasi-date."
"A date?" she practically shrieks. "Oops, sorry." She places her hand in front of her lips. "Is this your way of trying to?—"
"It's not a real date, obviously." I cut her off. "It's just for appearances' sake."
"Okay, so we're going on a fake date because…?"
"Because I want Whittaker to think that we just happened to be there, and you just happen to be a huge fan of his, and we just happened to get into a conversation, and I just happened to sign him." I grin. "Comprendo?"
"I guess so, but you are forgetting one thing."
"And what's that?"
"I'm not a fan of his. I don't like ice hockey, I couldn't tell you anything about it."
"And you're an actress, right?" I stare at her.
She presses her lips together. "Yes, I'm an actress, but?—"
"Are you a shitty actress or a good actress?"
"Well, what sort of question is that? Who's going to say they're a shitty actress?"
"Exactly, so you're a fairly good actress."
"Hey, that's mean. What do you mean by fairly good?"
"I mean you still work for me full time and you haven't won an Oscar yet, so I wouldn't say you're exactly up there with the Meryl Streeps and Sandra Bullocks of the world."
"Has Sandra Bullock won an Oscar?" she asks.
"I don't know." I shrug. "But..."
"But what?" she says.
"Fine, you're not a Viola Davis."
"Fine, I'm not Viola Davis," she admits. "But I could be one day if I get some really juicy and meaty roles." She bursts out laughing. "Okay, let's be real. I'm probably never going to be a Meryl Streep or a Viola Davis, but I'm not absolutely shit."
"So then you can work this role tonight?" I ask her hopefully.
"I'll try my best," she says, nodding. "Fine."
"Thank you."
I grab her hand and she looks at me in surprise.
"What's going on?”
“I wanted to show you Whittaker’s photo and bio before we go into the bar, so you aren’t completely out of your element if we see him.”
“Ok.” She nods as I show her my phone. “Ooh, he’s cute.” She squeals and I glare at her.
“You seen enough?”
“Not really. Any shirtless pics?”
“No.” I growl. “Come on. I think we should walk into the club holding hands, so when people see us they'll immediately think we have a close connection."
"Fine," she says, holding my hand.
"Also, I wanted to say thank you for coming."
"What?"
"I know you had plans tonight and I'm sorry. Genuinely, I’m sorry that you had to cancel."
"Oh. Well, thank you."
"I hope the person you were meeting wasn't too upset…"
I know I'm prying, but I am curious who she'd been intending to meet.
"They were not happy," she says. "But we were able to reschedule." She nods. "So we'll see."
"So are you going to tell me more about..." I pause as she shakes her head.
"No, I'm not." She smiles sweetly at me. "Shall we make our way inside so that we can get to work?"
"Okay," I say, nodding. "Let's do it."
We head toward the front and a burly security guard looks me over.
"Can I help you?" he asks.
"Yeah, we're here to get some drinks and maybe some appetizers."
"Are you on the list?"
"Sorry, what?" I stare at him.
"The list. This is an exclusive invite-only bar. You can't just get in."
"Oh, what?" Skye says, looking at him with pouted lips. "But he's been promising me all night that he was going to bring me here." She looks up at me. "If we don't get to go into Club Z, we're not going to make love tonight," she says.
I stare down at her and then look over at the security guard.
"Is there nothing that we can do to get me in? Perhaps I'm on the guest list, I'm not sure."
He looks at me for a couple of seconds, and then at Skye. He stares down at my $500 Italian leather shoes, at my $10,000 Rolex, my $20,000 suit, and he nods slightly.
"What do you do?"
"I'm an attorney, a partner at a law firm here in the city."
"Okay. I mean, I can see if we're allowing any guests for the evening." He stares at me. "For a price."
I nod. I pull out my leather wallet from the back of my pocket and take out five crisp $100 bills and slip them into the palm of his hand.
"I would appreciate that very much."
He stares at me and I stare at him. He looks down at his palm and gives me a small little nod and smile.
"I think that there may be one guest spot available." He opens the door. "Have a good evening."
"Thank you."
I usher Skye inside before me and she looks up at me with wide eyes.
"How much money did you just give him?"
"$500." I say.
"Wow, that's a lot of money."
"I would've given him $10,000." I grin at her. "But he doesn't know that."
"You would've given him $10,000 just to get in here tonight?"
"I mean, I do want to sleep with you after all," I say, and she bursts out laughing.
"Very funny."
"What? Maybe it's the truth."
"You just want to speak to Whittaker Matlock so you can get his business."
"That is true, but there may be other perks to the evening."
"Really, Kingston?"
"What? I'm just being honest."
"Come on. Where do we go from here?" she asks as we look down the dark corridor.
"I think that we continue down this path and see where we end up."
"I hope this club isn't creepy," she says, looking up at me nervously.
"What do you mean?"
"I hope there aren't naked women dancing around."
I'm about to make a joke, but I can tell by the concern in her eyes that she's serious.
"Hey, if anything about this makes you uncomfortable, we'll leave."
"What?” She sounds surprised again.
"If anything?—"
"No, I heard you," she says, cutting me off. "But really? You would leave?"
"Yes, of course I want to make a connection with Whittaker, and of course he's a very important potential client for the company. However, I do care about your safety and how you feel, and if you're not comfortable, we will leave."
"Oh, wow. Thank you. I didn't expect that you would say that."
"I'm not a jerk all of the time."
"Just some of the time, huh?" she says with a laugh, and I chuckle.
I grab her hand again and we continue walking down the corridor.
The door opens as if by magic and a pretty woman in a purple dress smiles at me. She has white-blonde hair and the most sparkling blue eyes I've ever seen in my life.
"Welcome to Club Z," she says in a Russian accent. "This is your first time?"
"Yes, it is. Both of our first times." I nod over to Skye.
The blonde looks at her and then back at me.
"Welcome. My name is Anastasia. I will be your hostess for the evening."
"Oh, okay." I frown. "Do we not get to seat ourselves?"
I look around to see if I can spot Whittaker anywhere.
"We have very different areas for very different members. You are not a member," she says. "You're just a guest tonight."
"Yeah, I'm a guest, but I'm very interested in becoming a member." I say.
"Well, we shall see. Follow me."
She guides us to the side of the room to a small table.
"You can sit here. This is the Peacock Room." She ushers us to a booth. "You press this button and someone will come out and take your drink order."
"Is this the only bar in Club Z or?—"
"No," she says. "But for now, you start here. Understand?"
I nod. "Perfectly. Thank you."
"Very welcome," she says. She touches my upper arm and runs her fingers down the side of my jacket. "Armani, no?" She looks my suit up and down. "Very nice."
"Custom-made," I say. "By the man himself."
"I can tell." She smiles and looks over at Skye. "Have a good evening, madame."
"You too, thanks," Skye says before we sit down. "I think she thinks I'm a prostitute," Skye says out of nowhere, and I burst out laughing.
"Why do you say that?"
"Because you're obviously very well-to-do in your fancy suit with your expensive watch and shoes, and here I am in my knock-off Valentino dress."
"Your what?" I ask.
"It's a knock-off Valentino dress." She grins. "I got it made in Chinatown, and I just feel like she knew that it wasn't real, and I suddenly feel like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman ."
"You shouldn't. You're not a prostitute."
"I know I'm not a prostitute, I just feel like she thinks I was." She sighs. "Anyway, let's get a drink. I really need a drink."
"Sure. What would you like?"
"Maybe a Cosmopolitan."
"Sounds good. I'll get us two."
"You drink cocktails?" she asks in surprise.
"Not generally, but when we're in a place like this, I feel like we should class it up a little bit."
I press the button that Anastasia had pointed out to me earlier and another cute blonde comes rushing up to the table.
"Good evening. What would you like to drink tonight?" she asks in a deep voice and accent I can't place.
"We'd like two Cosmopolitans, please. Unless there is a house special that you recommend?"
"We do have the Club Z, but it is very potent," she says, glancing at me and Skye. "Would you like to try it?"
"Sure." I say. "What about you, Skye?"
"Sure. When in Rome, right?" She grins.
"Of course. So I will get two Club Z specials. Just so you know, they are $1,000 each."
Skye gasps, but I just shrug.
"Sounds fine."
The waitress hurries off and Skye looks at me with wide eyes. "$1,000 drinks, are you crazy?"
"It's the cost of doing business here," I say, shrugging. "Don't worry about it."
"You've already spent like $1,500."
"$2,500, two drinks plus the $500."
"Oh, yeah." She moans. "I'm not that good at math."
"It's a good thing you're not a math teacher then, isn't it?"
"Ha ha," she says, rolling her eyes. She leans back and looks around, then she gasps. "Oh my gosh, that's him."
"Who?" I say, my shoulders stiffening.
"Whittaker Matlock, of course." She nods toward the other side of the room. "He's there with two other guys that look like they might be athletes as well."
I stare in the direction she's nodding in and my eyes narrow. That is, indeed, Whittaker Matlock, but I don't recognize the two men that he's with.
I look at her. "Okay, that is him, good job."
"You're welcome," she says. "So what do we do now?"
"I'm not sure," I say, frowning. "We're seated too far away from him to make casual talk."
"I have an idea," she says.
"What's your idea?"
"Just wait and see."
She jumps up, and before I know what she's doing, she's hurrying to the other side of the room. I watch as she walks past the table, and then doubles back, fawning and gushing over Whittaker.
"What are you doing, Skye?" I mutter under my breath, as I sit here watching her.
She's laughing and playing with her hair, and I can see that she has all of the men’s attention. For a few seconds, I'm slightly jealous. For a few seconds, I feel guilty. Am I pimping out my assistant for a client? But no, I hadn't told her to do that. And then, before I know what's happening, Whittaker is shifting on the seat and she's sitting down next to him.
"What did you say to him, Skye?" I mutter under my breath.
I'm about to up and go and approach the table when the waitress comes back with two crystal flutes filled with a bright purple liquid.
"Here are the two Club Zs," she says, placing them on the table. "Just press the button if you need anything else."
"Thank you, I will."
"You're welcome," she says as she backs away.
I take a sip of the drink and I cough immediately. I don't recognize the alcohol that's in the glass, but it tastes disgusting. What a waste of $1,000 , I think to myself.
My eyes traverse back over to Skye, and now I see she's sitting in Whittaker's lap. I feel myself growing annoyed and angry. She’s definitely playing her role a little bit too well. I take another gulp of the drink, because even though I don't like it, $1,000 is a lot of money to spend on something just to not drink it, then I grab Skye's glass and head over to the other side of the room.
"Darling," I say, as I stop next to the table, staring down at a laughing Skye.
I see Whittaker's arms wrapped around her waist and it takes everything in me to not grab her out of his lap.
"I have your drink."
"Oh, thank you," she says. "Whittaker, this is my part-time boyfriend. Honey, this is Whittaker Matlock. He's my favorite NHL player ever."
"Oh." I stare at him.
The man looks up at me with amused eyes. I can tell he thinks that I'm an idiot for leaving my woman alone for a second.
"Nice to meet you, Whittaker. I've followed your career for a number of years. My name's Kingston. I'm a?—"
"Hey," he says, nodding, touching Skye on the side of the face as he cuts me off. "Did I tell you yet just how sexy you are, Skye?"
"Yes." She smiles awkwardly and I stiffen as I realize how uncomfortable she seems to be. "But don't say it in front of my part-time boyfriend. I don't want him to be jealous."
"I mean, if he's only part-time, I'm sure he wouldn't mind." Whittaker looks up at me again, his eyes assessing me. "Do you?"
“I’m going to say this nicely, but I kind of do mind that your hands are all over my girlfriend," I say, giving him a toothless grin. "But I know how sexy she is and I know how hard it must be for you to resist. But I'm going to have to ask you to desist.” There’s an edge to my voice and I know that I will knock him to the ground if he steps out of line anymore than he already has.
This was a stupid idea.
I keep having stupid ideas.
I am too old and too professional for this crap.
And Skye is too special to me to use her like this. The thought makes my heart race for a few seconds.
Why am I feeling this way?
"Sorry, what?" He blinks at me.
Skye's jaw drops as I grab her hand.
"What are you doing?"
"I think that he's getting a little bit too handsy," I grate out.
I'd noticed that Whittaker's right hand was moving up her thigh, and his left hand was moving closer to her breast. There was no way in Hell I was going to let this man feel up Skye.
"It's fine," she says, whispering in my ear. "It's just a game."
"It's not fine," I say. "I'm not going to let this man touch you just so I can sign him as a client."
She blinks slowly and nods. "I mean, it's not like I was going to let him finger me or anything." I glare at her. "Or play with my nipples. Sure, he was trying to grab my breast, but I wouldn't let him slip his hand in."
"We will talk later," I say.
I stare at Whittaker, who is now glaring at me. "You got a problem, man?" he says.
"Yes, I do. My girl is a fan of yours and she wanted to get your autograph, which I'm okay with. I'm even okay with you flirting with her. But I'm not okay with you touching her when you barely know her. That's not acceptable."
He blinks for a few seconds then jumps up, and I'm scared that he's going to deck me. I'm not scared because I think he's going to hurt me, I'm scared because I know if he does punch me, I will fight him back and have him on the ground within minutes, and the last thing I need is to be in the newspaper for beating up Whittaker Matlock. He definitely would not become my client then. He stares at me for a couple of seconds and I wait for the first blow to come, but he bursts out laughing instead. I feel him squeeze my shoulder.
"You're all right, man."
"What?" I say in surprise.
"I like it when a man speaks up for his woman. Yeah, she's cute, and yeah, I would've loved to have had her tonight, but I respect the fact that you spoke up to me."
"Okay." I say, wondering what the hell is going on.
"Most men don't say shit because I'm Whittaker Matlock and I make $50 million a year, sometimes more."
"Okay."
"Men are intimidated by me. I've got it all. The looks, the money, the cock." He grins as he looks over at Skye. "Honey, you're missing out on a pretty thick hard cock."
Skye blushes and looks down.
"Dude," I say.
"Sorry." He grins. "I was just letting her know. I mean, you guys open to it?"
”Open to what?" I snap.
"Me fucking her."
I take a deep breath and count to five.
"Excuse me?"
"Look, I'm just saying that there are plenty of men that let me their fuck women and like to watch. I don't know if you're one of those dudes."
"I'm not."
He grins. "Okay. Well, if you want my autograph, where's the paper or something?" he asks her.
"I guess I can get one," she says, looking over at me.
I can tell she's uncomfortable, and I feel really bad putting her in this position.
"Hey, dude, my name is Kingston Chase. I'm an attorney for a law firm here in The City, and I know that you're looking for new representation. I'm interested in signing you as a client.
"Oh." He frowns. "Is that what this was about?"
I'm surprised that he doesn't sound angry or pissed off.
"I mean, kind of." I nod.
"Okay. I'm not going to sign any paperwork with you right now, but I guess we can have a meeting next week or something."
I stare at him in surprise. "Really?"
"Really. This is not the weirdest way I've been approached to do business." He laughs. "I like working with people that will act like desperados to work with me. It shows me that you'll do anything that I ask."
"I mean, within the law, of course."
He chuckles. "Of course." He looks back over at Skye. "You're a pretty thing, aren't you?" She blushes again and he chuckles. I feel him wrap his arm around my shoulder and squeeze. "You're lucky to have a pretty one like this." He grins. "But get out of my space. Me and my boys here are talking about something that I don't think you're going to want to hear if you're about to become my attorney."
"As your attorney, it would be better that I know everything about?—"
"I don't think you're going to want to hear this," he says. "Plausible deniability. That's the term, right?"
"It is a term," I say, nodding my head.
"Great." He sniffs and I can see that he’s studying me. "If I were you, I would go back to wherever you were sitting, because I'm pretty sure that Anastasia will be over here in a couple of minutes and kick you out if you don't leave me alone."
"Okay." I slip him my business card. "Looking forward to hearing from you next week."
"You will," he says.
I grab Skye by the hand and guide her back to the table. I can feel her heart racing as we make our way. We sit back down and she stares at me.
"Whoa, what just happened?"
"I'm actually feeling the same way that you are right now." I shake my head in disbelief. "Did I really just get Whittaker Matlock to agree to come into the office?"
"You did," she says. "After you defended me." Her voice sounds wispy. "You didn't have to do that, you know."
"I did. I put you in this position and I feel bad. You're not just an object. You're not just a hot, sexy woman that can be talked to any old way." She stares at me, not speaking. "What are you thinking?" I ask her.
"I was just thinking that sometimes you talk to me any old way, like I’m nothing.”
I realize that her words are true, and I feel slightly guilty.
"I know, and I?—"
"It's okay," she says quickly, her eyes darting away from me. "I kind of like going back and forth with you. I kind of like crossing those lines with you. Maybe because I feel comfortable." She presses her lips together. "You know what I mean?"
I nod slowly, because I do know what she means, and I also don't know how to voice it.
"Shall we finish these drinks and leave?" I say.
"Yeah. I guess we do have paperwork to do."
"Yeah." I stare at her and smile then reach over and grab her hands. "Thank you for being here with me tonight. I'm sorry that I made you cancel your plans. I'm sorry that...you know. Things are weird between us."
"You have nothing to apologize about. It comes with being your assistant." She smiles. "Plus, if you sign Whittaker next week, I'm going to get a huge bonus, and you know what that means?"
"No, what does that mean?" I ask, as my lips twitch.
"That means I am going on an around-the-world trip." She bursts out laughing at the expression on my face. "Don't worry, I'll give you my two weeks notice before I go."
"You better," I say, smiling.
For some reason, I feel comfortable and happy with her. For some reason, I feel more alive than I've felt in a long time, and it has nothing to do with potentially signing Whittaker Matlock.