Chapter 15
"Sei que eu tenho o dom de dar mergulho com o olhar. Pega e dirige pra casa no dia também que o nosso carinho n?o dói em ninguém" - Liniker
I wake up early in an enviable mood. My breakfast is already served in the antechamber, and alongside the usual spread, a bouquet of lavender and lilies adorns the center of the table. A card is tucked beside the juice.
"Your scent is permeating my mind as are your lips, your voice, and your touch. How can I sleep after feeling the warmth of your body? Knowing your kiss is so good that I never tire of imagining you with me? I'm counting the days until our dinner.
P.S. I spent the night thinking about you. It was torture. — K."
I eat my breakfast with a private smile, glancing back and forth between the note and the flowers. I pull on my gear — sweatpants, a top, and a shirt — and head down to the gym. She isn’t there. Maybe she decided to skip her run today.
Megan Woods: "I slept wonderfully. Maybe it’s the art—it's always relaxing to look at beautiful things. Or maybe it’s the kiss. Who’s to say? — M."
I hit “send” before starting the treadmill. Twenty minutes in, the heat is becoming unbearable. I’m sweating through my clothes, so I pull off my shirt and hang it over the armrest.
I turn up the volume on the news in my headphones, focusing on the screen. Fifteen more minutes, and I pause to hydrate.
I watch the weather report — more snow and cold on the way — and wait for my heart rate to steady. I’m always irrationally afraid of having a heart attack while running; although my old trainer said it’s nearly impossible, I’ve always felt I was “special” when it came to things going wrong.
Suddenly, I see her hand resting on my discarded shirt. I look over with a smile. Her eyes drop immediately to my chest. Without stopping my stride, I point my index and middle fingers to my own eyes, the universal sign for “look at my face.”
I pull off my headphones and hear a long, drawn-out “good morning.” Out of the corner of my eye, I catch her taking one last look at my body.
"Did you get the flowers?" She throws the towel on the treadmill support next to her and we look at each other in the mirror.
I nod and say they're beautiful. "Have dinner with me.
It'll be just the two of us and the chef.
" I pause the treadmill. As the belt slows, I take a moment to catch my breath.
"How would we even get there?" I rest my arm on the support of her machine. I can feel the sweat dripping between my breasts as my headphones hang around my neck.
"Taxi. I can meet you at the corner of the hotel. I'll wear a windbreaker and a cap, no one will recognize me."
I wipe my forehead with my shirt and sling it over my shoulder.
"Friday. 8:00 PM. On the corner."
"Megan, this is hard," she says, her voice dropping. I arch an eyebrow. She bites her lower lip, her gaze traveling up and down my body. "You look too good in that outfit. Put your shirt on. This is torture."
"Who said I wasn't trying to torture you?" I take a sip of water and splash some on my face. She stops her treadmill and stares at me, leaning on the frame as if she’s lost her train of thought. "You can finish your run... or you can meet me in the locker room."
"I..."
"What? Lost your voice, Kelsey?" I slide my headphones back on, turn my back to her, and walk calmly toward the locker room without looking back.
The locker room is a sanctuary of marble and cool floors, with double sinks and a long black bench. I start washing my face as I normally would. Just as the second rinse hits my skin, the door clicks shut. Kelsey has entered and locked it behind her.
"Your Honor, I didn't expect you to be so provocative," she says with a feline intensity. She’s already pulled off her own shirt as she approaches.
"I didn't say anything about ulterior motives," I say, my mouth going dry as I watch her. I feel a shiver when she stops just inches away.
"I’m not going to have sex with you for the first time in a gym locker room. I told you I wouldn't treat you like anyone else, and I’m standing by that."
I raise my eyebrow and her hand wraps possessively around my waist, triggering a wave of lust that disrupts my breathing. She turns me against the sink, making me face her in the mirror while she pulls my hair close to my scalp. I'm in the same position I saw her in on the day of the event.
Her hand releases my waist and squeezes one of my buttocks. Without breaking eye contact, I feel a hard slap that makes my ass burn at the same time my body contracts. Spontaneously, I tense my body and smile after letting out a restrained moan.
Her tongue touches my neck and she licks it while turning my body to face her.
An impulse makes me wrap my legs around her waist and I am supported on the sink counter.
Our mouths meet and my sweat slides down her body.
She doesn't seem to mind; her hands squeeze my breasts over my top and I can't help but moan against her mouth.
She laughs between kisses when I run my hand over her breasts and squeeze them.
As soon as she holds me tighter, her other hand slides to my pussy over my pants.
I try to clench my legs, but I want her so badly that I give in as soon as she scolds me with her eyes and pulls me by my ass for a delicious kiss.
"Fuck me already, Kelsey." I pleaded. She shook her head while running her lips over mine.
"But I can jerk you off in the hotel locker room." Kelsey promised softly.
One of her hands slips into my pants, pulling the side of my panties aside and skillfully masturbating my clitoris, which is completely swollen and wet with the need for contact.
I rest both hands on the edge of the counter, ready for her to do whatever she wants with me. At times, I feel like she's going to penetrate me, but she doesn't. Her mouth slides down my neck, and with one hand she pulls my top aside and exposes one of my nipples, which she promptly licks.
When I'm about to come, her mouth sticks to mine again and she squeezes my nipple. I can't hold back the long moan caused by the orgasm that takes over my body and the wave of tremors that throws me off balance.
She takes her hand off my pants, looks at her fingers and then at me. She sucks her fingers while our eyes remain locked. I am completely numb.
"I told you I'm not going to fuck you in the gym bathroom..." she whispered, biting her lip. I adjust my pants and she moves closer. Our noses touch and she smiles.
"I thought that was kind of a bitch move on your part." I remarked, feigning indignation while adjusting my top.
"You're delicious, but between the two of us, I'm the boss." she stated. She winks and leaves after tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear.
I leave the dressing room wearing the shirt and headphones. As soon as I get to my room, a message flashes on my phone screen.
K. Calama: "You're driving me crazy."
I laugh before getting in the shower, and as soon as I get out, I see that there are already other messages and a photo of her in the bathtub with little foam.
Megan Woods: "This time, you're the one who ran away. Now I want to know how much you want me before you have me."
Megan Woods: "There's not enough foam in that bathtub."
K. Calama: "You're missing from this bathtub, that's for sure."
Megan Woods: "How do I know you won't use me to get what you want?"
K. Calama: "I can tell you who I use to get advantages and how. I won't use you. We can make a contract."
Megan Woods: "Interesting. What do you think?"
K. Calama: "I'll give you names, leave evidence, and offer you 50 million euros if I try to take advantage of you."
In response, I send Sarki's private email and say that if my lawyer approves, I'll sign. I finish by confirming that our meeting is still on.
Half an hour after exchanging messages, Sarki calls me on video asking what this is all about. I calmly explain and she bursts out laughing.
"You're playing hard to get, and she's totally falling for it," Sarki said, sipping her tea.
"Maybe I'm falling for her and I don't really care." I confessed.
"I wouldn't mind either. The contract idea is excellent, and honestly, you have nothing to lose here.” she noted. “She said your biggest loss would be your image. I think that's fair."
"Is there a contract term?" I asked, sorting things out to work and distract myself.
"Three years, initially. Automatically renewable. Come to think of it..." Sarki mused.
"Go on, what's on your evil mind?" I probed.
"When I married Lisa, she put some shares of her father's bank in the prenuptial agreement in case of divorce. Ask for some shares of her company in case she screws you over. That way, you won't be left empty-handed." she suggested.
“You can do that. If she does, give me a call and I'll sign it right away.” I agreed.
"I'll do it now, wait a minute." She said and I can hear her typing something, and then her attention returns to me. "Sent."
"Has Lisa arrived from her trip?" I asked and she shook her head. "How are you two doing?"
"Fine. She gave up on the idea of having children after spending two days with her sister." She laughed. "She sent a photo yesterday before the show. She looked so beautiful that I was sure I would jump through the screen if I could."
"Lisa is beautiful. You are both beautiful." I said.
"No sugarcoating. Your babe responded with the signed contract." Sarki Noted "I sent it to you." I digitally sign the file as soon as the notification arrives, without leaving the video call. "All right, enjoy your date now."
"What date... I have meetings with supporters, direct bosses, and representatives of the judiciary every day of the week." I said.
“May the Lord have mercy on your soul.” She joked and I hang up the phone and sit down to open the files and study. The week goes by with my head feeling like it's about to explode at any moment due to the lack of peace.
On the day I am supposed to meet Kelsey, she sends me a message while I am sitting at a restaurant table waiting for a New York prosecutor.
K. Calama: "I want to see you soon." The message flashes and my eyes automatically light up. I look to the side and the man is nowhere to be seen.
Megan Woods: "I think we can talk on the phone, the prosecutor hasn't arrived yet." Less than thirty seconds later, her name flashes on the screen and I answer using my headphones while leafing through the menu.
"I think it's absurd for anyone to keep you waiting. Which restaurant are you at?" she asked.
“At Musket, on Broadway. I've had a juice, but I'm starting to get annoyed.” I said.
"You have every right to be. Who's the jerk?" she inquired.
"Carlton Miller. No one very important." I answered.
"He's a real piece of shit. Keep your cool and you'll have him in the palm of your hand." Kelsey advised.
“You know everyone. What's the fun in that?” I asked.
“You said yourself that I keep secrets. Maybe he'll tell you himself.” Then we can laugh about it together.
“Maybe he'll tell you his secrets himself. Then we can laugh about it later. He expects a 'straight' judge — strong, delicate, responsible. The role you’ve played your whole life.” she teased.
"Wow, I’m offended. You’re calling me an actress?"
"You're in line for the Supreme Court, Megan. You’re on the Oscar list."
Carlton Miller finally approaches. I have to be discreet.
“I understand, my meeting is about to start. We'll talk soon.” She asks if he's arrived. “Yes, of course.”
"See? Oscar-worthy," she teases. " Megan, you look delicious pretending to talk to someone from work. See you later."
I blush but maintain my composure. Carlton apologizes for being forty minutes late. We talk about the city and the snow.
“What do you think of New York? Better than North Carolina, don't you think? Except for the snow... “
"I hate that the snow here looks like those bad apples. It's the same feeling, only on your feet." We laugh as I take a sip of the tea I ordered before he arrived.
"You must have met someone from Calama Offshore," he says. I nod, mentioned a lawyer contacted me. "I heard you’re eyeing the Supreme Court. I’m telling you this off the record: she’s influential. Don't cross her. I was up for Mayor before we had a falling out."
"Did you argue about something serious?"
"She coerced a judge to close an immigrant shelter.
It caused a crisis for the permanent visa applications.
As a local rep, it fell on me." He sighs.
I feign indignation, hiding my distaste for his xenophobia.
"Then I found out she went out with my daughter, who is straight, by the way. That was the trigger. She’s been gunning for my career ever since. "
"I understand. The immigration issue is a very sensitive subject indeed.
"Even more so here. It seems like everyone pretends to love Latinos when they're about to be deported. It's horrible." My coffee arrives, but instead of drinking it, I decide to end the conversation by telling him I have a meeting. "I'm so sorry I'm late, I didn't know you had an appointment."
"Don't worry, dear, we'll have other opportunities." I wipe the corner of my mouth with a napkin and he tells me I don't have to pay for anything. I insist, and once again he refuses. I smile slightly and, as soon as I turn my back, I roll my eyes in boredom.
Six o'clock in the evening is when the clock beeps for me to start getting ready. I opt for a thick fabric midi dress, tights, a coat, and heels. Ten minutes before meeting her, I'm already ready and in the elevator.
She sends me a message saying she's already waiting for me. I stop at the designated spot and complain that I can't find her. Her hands touch my waist, showing that I belong to her, and it makes me jump with fright.
I couldn't even recognize her with so many layers of fabric covering her face and body. A turtleneck, hat, windbreaker, and scarf.
"Are you colder than I am?" She shakes her head as she laughs at the scene of me jumping.
"I told you I'd be unrecognizable."
"You look just like those teenagers in movies from the 2000s on prom night."
"I appreciate the compliment, even if it is mocking," she says as she reaches out her hand to hail a taxi.