Chapter 18
Dominic
I never considered how much she’d actually be at the house when I asked, make that told, Mila to move in with me
I know that might sound strange, but I’ve never lived with a woman before. I’m not used to smelling perfume in the house, hearing pop music playing from the gym, or seeing all the sugary coffee creamers and fruity yogurts in the fridge.
I think it really hit me that we are doing this when I walked out of my bedroom this morning and found a steaming cup of coffee on the counter.
That wasn’t alarming, but I nearly dropped that cup of steaming hot coffee when I turned and saw Mila.
She was outside on a lounger by the pool, wearing a white string bikini.
I told her she could use the pool and that she would most likely be wearing a bathing suit while using it. I guess I just wasn’t expecting it to be so distracting.
Because I’ve been so distracted by her, I’ve been hiding out in my office. Although I do leave the door open. I may be doing it on purpose, or maybe I’m doing it subconsciously. I don’t know.
Half way through my morning coffee, my phone rings. It’s my dad. Hooray.
“Good morning,” I say as I take the call.
“Is it?” he asks, and I close my eyes, the impending headache looming behind my eyes. “My arthritis says differently.”
When I don’t say anything (because what the fuck am I supposed to say) he goes on.
“Surprised I caught you.”
“I’m a busy man,” I tell him, taking another sip of my coffee and reaching for the aspirin.
“So I’ve noticed,” he says.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask.
“You’re on social media, son,” he says with the same tone he’s been using with me since I was seven. “You’re also in half the business magazines on the planet.”
“I’m going to regret this,” I say as I wipe my hand over my face. “But what did you read this time?”
“Didn’t have to read it. It’s what I saw that had my Grape Nuts growing roots in my stomach,” he answers.
“Fine. What did you…” I say when I see Mila walking back into the house in nothing but her bikini and suntan oil. I know she’s wearing oil because she’s glistening in the sunlight. “... see?”
“You and a girl,” he says. “Which, as you know, is new to me.”
I’m aware. I’m aware that me having lunch alone with a girl is new.
I’m aware that having said girl not just cleaning my house but living in my house is new.
All of this is new, and it’s taking me a minute to…
adjust. And speaking of adjustments, if I had known she was going to be traipsing around my house half-naked today, I wouldn’t have worn the world’s tightest business slacks.
“Yeah, yeah, it is,” I say. “Publicly, anyway.”
“So who is this girl you’re tucked away in dark booths with, sharing appetizers and what looks like some salty banter?” he presses.
“Her name is Mila,” I tell him.
“Where’d you meet her?”
Hmm. That’s a tricky question for sure. I can’t tell the truth. So naturally, I lie. “The neighborhood.”
“New girl in town. Interesting. What’s she do for a living?”
“PR,” I lie again. Although I suppose that’s not really a lie. She does work in public relations, the serving end of things anyhow.
“Where’s she from?”
“Here.”
“Parents?”
“Haven’t met them yet,” I say. “We’re going slow.” The last part is a dig at him. He’s trying to insinuate that I am rushing things. A means to an end. I’m going to prove him wrong.
“Interesting,” he says, and I stop.
Mila is walking to the kitchen in a towel.
She’s soaking wet, and the tiny white towel is wrapped around her body snugly, revealing the tops of her breasts and the bottom of her ass.
I pivot my chair to watch her open the cabinet, reaching for a water glass.
They’re on the second shelf, and she is not exactly tall.
She stands on her tiptoes, reaching high, revealing more of her ass.
My dad is still talking, but I don’t hear a word he is saying. There’s too much blood rushing…elsewhere.
Suddenly, as she attempts to use both hands to reach a glass, the towel comes loose, but she catches it just in time. She fills the glass with water and sashays out of the kitchen.
“Are you listening to me?” My dad’s voice breaks into my thoughts, and it isn’t until then that I realize I am sweating.
“Yes, sorry, the phone went dead for a second,” I blurt.
“Big shot security CEO and your home phone is shit,” he chuckles, but the comment doesn’t make my blood burn the way it normally would. Thanks to Mila, it’s already boiling.
“I was saying that I think it’s awfully convenient that you are suddenly in the dating scene,” he says.
“Why is it convenient?” I ask, fully ready to spar. I’ve been preparing for this. My dad isn’t stupid. He’s also not in my favor.
“I think we both know the answer to that question,” he says. “I think we also both know that if you tried to pull one on me, I could easily pull the rug out from underneath you.”
I stand up and pace the room in slow, intentional strides. “Well then, I guess it’s a good thing my relationship with Mila is real.”
“Chemistry?” he asks.
More like heated banter, but I suppose that counts. “Yes.”
“Social balance?”
She no longer works at the Cockpit, so that evens things out a little bit. “Yes.”
“Attraction?” he asks.
Just then, Mila walks by in silky pajama bottoms and a nearly see-through matching top. She is barefoot, padding her way across the kitchen. She opens the fridge and bends down to look inside, her ass on full display.
“Yeah,” I let out.
“Alright, well, I guess we will see what happens,” he says.
“Yes, we will,” I say, forcing myself to turn around.
“Just do me a favor, son. Don’t make a fool of yourself. If you look bad, I look bad. And if I look bad…well.”
I clench my jaw. “Trust me. I have no intention of letting this go south.”
After I end the call, I shove my phone in my pocket and walk into the kitchen. Mila is making some kind of fruity yogurt parfait.
“What are you doing?” I demand, and she looks up at me as she slowly bites into a whole strawberry.
“What do you mean?” she asks, chewing slowly, unaware of the strawberry juice glistening on her plump lower lip.
“You’re parading around the house half-naked,” I say, waving my hand over the short, curvy length of her.
Mila looks down at her body, then back up. “I’m wearing clothes,” she says.
“Not really,” I argue.
“More than I did at the Cockpit.”
Touche.
“What about the bikini a minute ago?” I ask.
Mila arches an eyebrow. “What am I supposed to wear? A scuba suit?”
“And the towel after that.”
“I was taking a shower and got thirsty.”
“Would it have killed you to throw on a robe before walking out here?” I ask.
“I think the real question is, why are you watching me? Shouldn’t you be working?”
I grit my teeth. This girl’s sass is going to be the end of me.
I could put a stop to her sassy mouth right here, right now. Spank the ever-loving sass right out of her and her strawberry-flavored lips.
Except…that I can’t. This agreement is loose-ended enough. If I allow myself any leeway, it could spiral. I am not a spiraling man, especially with hundreds of millions on the line.
“You’re right,” I say firmly. I can’t give this woman the power to unravel me. “I do have to work. And I have a match tonight, which means you have to work too.”
“But I don’t work at the Cockpit anymore, remember?” she says. She dips her spoon into her parfait and takes a bite. I swear I have never wanted to be a spoon so badly in my life.
“No. As my girlfriend, remember?” I ask. “Now go put on some real clothes. And tonight, you wear black.”
“Black?” she asks.
“A dress.”
“A black dress,” she echoes.
“Short if you have it,” I add, heading back to my office.
“And if I don’t?” she asks.
“Use the credit card you use for my dry cleaning and go buy one.”
Mila doesn’t say anything. Honestly, she better not. Gorgeous house, pool, free food, a credit card. This girl better not say one damn thing.