16. Alex
“Good morning, twenty-seven,” Alex whispers, cuddling her sun-tinted blanket after her eyes open. Her birthday drops in like a present itself, packaged in a pretty bow and ready for her to unwrap.
She prances into the kitchen, turns on an automated playlist, and waits for the gooey goodness of a donut to warm in the microwave. It tastes like it’s a few days old (which it is), so Alex decides to prepare a bowl of oatmeal.
She swirls a pat of butter around, sprinkles a few banana slices on top, and then hears her phone ring from her bedroom.
Alex glides in and finds it flashing underneath the pillows and beams at the caller ID. Her parents go on to serenade her, clearly proud of themselves for figuring out the front-facing camera feature of the new phones she purchased for their birthdays.
“Are we the first?”
Alex smiles harder. “Yes, Dad. But it is seven in the morning, so.”
Eric frowns halfheartedly. “Well, if someone we know didn’t make it a competition—”
“You’d still be calling me early. But I’m not complaining either way. It makes a girl feel loved.”
“Yes, well, please enjoy your day, darling,” Victoria says. “I’m sure it’s in your plans to get intoxicated, so be safe?”
“I prom—”
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BEAUTIFUL!” Ben’s voice booms from the background as he struts into Alex’s bedroom with a colorful palette of gift bags. “ARE YOU READY TO GET FUC—oh… Good morning, Mama Vic, Papa Ric—damn! This means I lost.” He stands behind Alex and sits the bags on her bed.
“Good morning, darling. I envy your…enthusiasm,” Victoria says.
“That’s her I’m-judging-you smile,” Alex whispers.
“I know that,” Ben mumbles back.
“Good to see you, Ben. I do hope you enjoy second place this year, ha! But we’ll leave you to it, now. Enjoy your day, my girl.”
“I will. Love you guys.” Alex ends the call and snaps her head towards Ben. “Hey, Benjamin. Quick question—what the fuck?”
“Oh, whatever. It’s your birthday. I can do what I want.”
“Don’t you mean I can?”
“Same thing. Now, do you want me to give you your gifts or not?”
Alex taps her fingers on her lips. “Hm…proceed.”
“Thought so. Have at it.”
Bags, bows, and tissue paper fly around like a tornado to unveil a purple blanket, a black blazer, and a pair of fuzzy, jade slippers. There’s also a small pouch containing an oil diffuser that goes into the auxiliary power port of a car.
“Aww, I love everything. Thank you! And I get the hint, by the way.”
Ben’s mouth hangs open a bit. “What do you mean?”
“The diffuser. That’s your way of saying you’re tired of being my chauffeur, right?”
“Beautiful, that’s not why I got you that. I mean, yes, the adult thing to do is get a new engine or a new car, but I’ll be your ride anytime. You know that.”
I sure do.
Alex motions her friend over for a hug, then they move to the living room. Throughout three episodes of Divorce Court and two and a half mimosas, her phone lights up once:
KIARA: Happy Birthday sis. Take a shot for me.
And then again, after a text from her childhood best friend who now lives in Atlanta.
KAIA: Happy Birthday Alex! Miss you!
And then several agains from old clients, classmates, and family she only hears from on this day.
“Young lady. I’m sick of your phone yelling at us. Put it on silent. Or better yet, turn it off!”
“But it’s rude not to say thank you. Although, this last text was Yuna telling us she’s walking up.”
“And once she gets here, you really won’t need your phone. You’ll be too busy.”
Alex reluctantly mutes her notifications, but shortly after, there’s another kind of screech, this time from the other side of the front door. She and Ben share a glance as she hastens over to twist the knob.
“HappyBirthdayBabeOMGI’mSoHappyIMetYouAndI’mSoHappyYouWereBornOnThisDayBecauseFrankie’sMomHasTheKidsWhichMeansICanGetAbsolutelyPlasteredTonightAndIt’sAllBecauseOfYouuuu!”
“I’m not entirely sure I got all that, but thank you! I’ll be right back!” Alex dashes into the kitchen and whips up a passion fruit mimosa, and Yuna and Ben’s voices turn suspiciously low.
“What are you two being so sneaky about?’ Alex asks as she returns to the living room.
Yuna grins. “We’re just talking about how excited we are.”
“Oh! Me too. Obviously.” Alex passes her a cup before hopping onto the couch.
Soon, as Ben foretold, she becomes too busy to concern herself with anything but enjoying the day. A day that includes manicures, pedicures, a massage, and a facial. Seven hours later, the trio finally returns to Alex’s condo.
“I need a nap,” she groans, flopping on the couch.
“Hey, hey, hey!” Yuna shrieks. “What was the point of making you queen for the day if you were gonna smudge yourself up so quickly?! Save that for later!”
“I’m not worried about men tonight. Just having fun with my friends, remember?”
“No one’s telling you to worry. We’re saying be open. That’s all.”
“I’m always open. Right now, I’m closing my eyes, though.”
Closing her eyes and finding herself back on the beach again. Back with that humongous drink, the beautiful birds, and the pristine sand. It’s been a while since Alex has had this dream. She wonders why.
By nine-fifteen, she struts from her bedroom, her curly, half-up-half-down extensions bouncing against her back in sync with the swaying of her arms. A cropped denim vest tops off her emerald bodysuit, and a high-waist, skater-skirt hugs her lower body, the hem skimming black, thigh-high boots.
“Alexandra,” Ben croaks, clutching his chest. “You just made me question my sexuality. I mean, the moment has passed now, but yeah, how do the youth say it? You look like an absolute snack, beautiful.”
Yuna extends her arms and lifts them up and down. “We’re not worthy!”
“You guys, please—feel free to gas me up some more!” Alex spins and shimmies her hips.
“We will. But in the car!” Yuna shouts. “Our ride will be here in nine minutes.”
She pours each of them a shot, but by the time they do their finishing touches, they have to take their cups with them. Yuna empties hers before they get to the elevator, but Ben takes the longest, barely swallowing his before they hop into a silver SUV.
They bounce around to the spotty radio until they arrive at prism, and tip the driver extra for being such a good sport.
Alex takes in the incandescent lettering overhead. It’s weird being here outside of work, but all prism employees get free drinks on their birthdays, and she’s not petty enough to miss out on that.
Nathan is the first to greet her once inside. “Alex, Happy Birthday! Jeez, you haven’t even hit thirty, yet. You might as well still be in diapers.”
Either he’s terrible at jokes or he’s got Baby Flynn on his mind. Alex laughs anyway. “I’m not rushing it.” She steps back from his hug, and into a hand that grips her shoulder.
“And you shouldn’t. It all goes downhill from there. That’s why you drink all you can while your hangovers don’t last weeks,” Gio whispers.
“I’m sorry…wee—”
“Stop it, guys. Alex is perfect the way she is,” Makeo says, saving the warmest hug for last.
“Ugh, thanks, Makeo. I just got a cavity.”
“Hello to you too, Yuna.”
“Not that this little catch-up isn’t fun and all, but can we move this party to the actual space reserved for our party?” Ben asks.
They do, and once there, Dara informs them there is a specialty cocktail for the night. The ‘Hyena’ contains vodka, melon liqueur, triple sec, pineapple juice, and lemon-lime soda.
Alex snorts. “What a jerk.”
“Aww, oh-em-gee,” Yuna says, “isn’t that one of those stup—I mean, uh, cute names you gave each other?”
“Yeah…” Alex clears her throat. “A round of Hyenas for the group, and a double shot of mango vodka for me, please, D.”
“You got it, birthday girl.”
Dara sends over Alex’s shot first, which doesn’t take but half a second to disappear. Gio helps deliver the rest of the drinks before sidling next to her, now in the midst of neck rotations and shutter clicks.
“He’ll be here. He just had to take care of something first.”
“Oh, okay. Cool. I wasn’t looking for him, but cool. Cool, cool, cool.” Bouncing legs betray her even further.
“I thought those shots were supposed to calm you down?”
“They did until fifteen words ago. Come dance with me?”
Gio jerks back. “Dance?”
Alex stands and adjusts her skirt before grabbing his hand. “It’s my birthday, Giovanni. Besides, are you really gonna sit here by yourself? Actually—don’t answer that.”
What Gio ends up doing, Alex doesn’t consider dancing, but he looks happy for the two-thirds of a song he lasts. He’s not the only one to drop out; four songs later, only Yuna, Ben, and Alex hang in there.
“Y’all! I’m having so much fun! You did such a great job putting this together! The music, the drinks… It’s like tonight is Club Me!” Alex yells, winding around to a Dancehall hit.
Yuna twirls her away from the tall and handsome stranger behind her. “Well, it is. But you know it’s not really because of us.” She gestures to Antonio walking their way.
Alex turns instantly, hoping to hide her burning cheeks. “Fuck,” she whispers. “He looks so…”
Ben nods. “What’s it gonna be, Robin? Make him sweat, or live in the moment?”
Alex clenches her fists and takes two deep breaths. An unmistakable, paralyzing presence cuts a third short.
Antonio slinks an arm around her collarbone and lowers his nose to her ear. “Do you need a refill, Ms. Agneau?”
Alex lets out an indistinct murmur, which Ben loosely translates. “She does!”
“This way, then,” Antonio says.
He places his hands on her shoulders and starts to guide her away from the dance floor. They leave a trail of inquisitive eyes behind them, making Alex feel like she’s now part of some exclusive society.
Antonio presses on, quietly, confidently, until they get to his office.
When the door closes, the energy shifts, and Alex assumes control, driving him onto the couch. He takes her along for the ride, looking rather pleased as she straddles him.
“Antonio Leonardo Moretti,” Alex says, biting her lip and playing with the gold chain across his collar.
“Alexandra…Agneau. Sorry, I don’t know your middle name.”
“I don’t have one. I wish I did.”
“I don’t think you’re missing out. Leonardo’s not that special.”
“So you’d never let me call you Leo?”
Antonio gently pulls at one of Alex’s tendrils. “Maybe.”
Oh, boy. “Well. Leo. Where’s my drink?” she asks, although not truly concerned, because that would mean he has to move the hand massaging her backside.
He nods his head to his left, where two glasses sit on his desk. Antonio’s gaze swings back Alex’s way, lowers to her chest, and suddenly, his eyebrows lift.
“TJ says he’ll make it up to you.”
“What?”
“TJ said—”
“No, I heard you. But what the—” Alex looks down and realizes her phone sticks out of her vest pocket just enough to expose her text previews. You have got to be kidding me. “He’s just a… He’s not…” She grunts. “It’s not like that.”
Antonio laughs.
“And just what the fuck is so funny? Unless you’re laughing to cover up something else. Jealousy, maybe?”
He laughs again, suave and unbothered, before tightening his hold around her back and using the other hand to grip her thigh. “Alex, there is nobody, and I mean nobody, out there…or in your phone…who could make you feel the things I could.”
“And why would you want to make me feel things? What about the giant stop sign on my forehead?”
Antonio growls softly, and slides his fingers from Alex’s back to her neck. He shrouds her in desire, inciting an empowerment within. A vindication, even. There’s no ignoring this. Ignoring the breaths so deep, so…steady. Or the force that brings their lips daringly close. That arches her back, makes her skirt rise higher, and makes her want to give in to any and every desire of the man before her.
Then he drops his hands and sighs. Not one of those relieved kind of sighs, but a strained one.
Alex snaps from her stupor and whispers, “Are you serious right now, Antonio? One second I think I can read you, the next, I can’t, and I hate it. You drive me crazy.”
“Hm. Join the club.”
She plucks him in the chest. “Is that a joke?”
“Does it sound like one?” Antonio looks away, and Alex tries inspecting him for…she’s not exactly sure what. The model-esque strength of his jawline is so damn distracting.
She moves his chin back to face her, but this view is even more striking.
“Pretty much every decision I’ve made when it comes to you has been the opposite of logical,” Antonio says. “But…”
“But?” Alex wraps her arms around him, her thumbs crossing over one another at the nape of his neck.
“I do like…being around you.”
“So maybe we don’t try to make it make sense. Maybe we just…stay in this bubble and be around each other for now. Can we do that?”
Antonio moves his face closer to hers, then drifts to her left side. “Are you sure?” he whispers.
“Yes.”
Alex feels the warmth of his breath before he begins sucking at tiny pieces of her neck. Each nibble sets off a grenade beneath her skin, causing her nerves to work overtime.
Yet, the way Antonio cradles her lower half contradicts it all. It feels sweet. Decent. But for what she covets, it’s totally insufficient.
His mouth travels up her neck, over her jaw, until finally, a magnetism pulls their lips together, causing an eruption of soft groans, like she’s the most amazing thing he’s ever tasted.
“Leo…”
Their bodies become a twisted chaos of limbs as if it’s a race to mark the most territory. But it ends in a draw; Antonio’s payoff seems to be getting Alex onto her back, and hers is the spectacle of his tempestuous gaze—something she missed dearly. She runs her left palm from his shoulder, down the middle of his chest, and lower and lower until his eyes flash like lightning.
She trails his length as he swings his hips. He already feels thick, growing harder by the second, and her lower lips begin to throb. A markedly louder groan emerges from her parted mouth as his tongue takes the invitation to head inside.
He consumes her, sucking on her tongue, then her bottom lip and back, and she grabs at his belt loops like reins, pulling him closer until she can unmistakably feel the head of his dick pressing against her.
“Fuck, Alex.”
Antonio cups one of her breasts and massages her nipple through her bodysuit, and just as his fingers curve over the neckline, the snaps come undone.
Alex gasps. How can my thoughts be out of breath? “I-I’m…not about to have sex with you for the first time in your office.”
Antonio pulls back, his cheeks washed with pink and red, and to see him a little disheveled somehow makes him even more attractive? “Meaning we’re good to go the second time?” he asks.
She snorts. “Sir.”
He sits them both upright, tosses Alex’s legs over his lap, and strokes her thighs. “Well, if I’m being honest, I’d prefer to take my time with you, gorgeous. I’m talking eyes rolling to the back of your head…” He drawls, his voice husky, “Talking absolute gibberish… Legs shaking… Headboard slamming kind of shit. None of that could happen in here.”
She squeezes her legs together and breathes out through her nose. “So you’re saying I’ve earned the full Moretti experience?”
Antonio’s smile is anything but innocent. “Speaking of earned, come on. I have something to show you.”
“Something else, you mean?” Alex swings her legs to the ground before looking at his jeans and fixing her clothes.
“Please don’t fucking tempt me any further, Alexandra Agneau. I’ve been imagining you in only these boots for hours, but I’m trying to focus on the task at hand.”
“What task?”
Antonio holds his hand out, and when Alex stands, slides his fingers between hers, and a gut feeling (which could also be a tipsy feeling) tells her that’s not a display of affection he does often. They make their way down to the service entrance of the lobby, where he pulls out a skinny, green scarf.
“Can I put this on?” he asks.
“Okay…but I don’t really like surprises.”
He kisses her forehead and she shivers, then the brightness of the main hall disappears.
The muffled synths and hi-hats from within the dance arena completely fade, until Alex feels gravel crunch under the heels of her boots. “Why are we outside?”
“You’ll see, gorgeous.” Antonio gives her an object and moves behind her, running his hands from her hips to her earlobes before removing the satin bandana.
Alex looks at a lustrous, ebony vehicle, and then down at her palm, where an oblong fob rests. She squints at Antonio before pressing a button and watching lights flicker at her. “Leo…what? I can’t—”
Antonio rolls his eyes. “I swear with everything in me if you try to hand these damn keys back I will run away from you. And we all know you’d never be able to catch me, so—think about that. Don’t embarrass yourself.” He points at the security cameras behind them.
Alex laughs gleefully, and without thinking, stands on her toes, wraps her arms around Antonio, and plants a kiss on his cheek. Before she falls back to the ground, he surprises her with a full kiss.
There’s a nagging voice in her ear.
But it’s tomorrow’s problem.