The guy is a musical prodigy.
Like many smart people, he can’t stay put. I’m hoping that he’ll be able to keep himself in one place.
One thing about him is that he’s restless, and he likes to bend rules. Beacon always finds a way to make the system work for him. There’s no way out of the conundrum our father put us in, yet, I can see him trying to escape and fuck us all.
We’re supposed to live under the same roof, but he had a music studio built for him with two extra rooms. Both of them are guestrooms for his bandmates—or so he claims. Since the construction company finished the place, he’s been staying there every night. He claims to be working, but no one can work two weeks straight without any sleep.
I would know, I don’t sleep much, if at all. As long as he doesn’t do anything stupid or get us in trouble, he can stay wherever the fuck he wants.
When I arrive at The Lodge, I text Karl Morrell. Beacon isn’t the only person who works around the system. I can do the same, and my vice president of operations will help me implement my plan.
Henry Aldridge: Emergency meeting in ten minutes. I’ll send you the videoconference link.
Karl Morrell: It’s Friday.
Henry Aldridge: It’s not optional. We have a lot to figure out for next week.
Karl Morrell: What’s happening next week?
Henry Aldridge: I’ll meet you in ten minutes so we can discuss it.
Three
Sophia
Not having my life together is an inconvenience. Not a character flaw. Thankfully, it’s one of those things that can be altered and masked without having to jump many hoops or get a personality makeover. The downside of pretending that I can conquer the world is that people rely on me for almost everything.
There’s another inconvenient trait that might be a flaw. I have a hard time saying no to the people I love. Like supporting my parents, babysitting my nieces and nephews, or…just about everything, but within reason. I’m not a pushover. If I don’t have time or it’s out of my reach, I say no.
The latest example is Blaire. She and future baby Aldridge-Wilson are my new weakness. She’s a capable woman, but since she is always puking, someone has to look out for her. Usually, it is her fiancé, but for obvious reasons he couldn’t be involved in the organization of his surprise party. When she asked if I could give her a hand, I should’ve said, “Yes, I’ll oversee everything from New York,” and then found an excuse to avoid this weekend’s trip.
Parties, special dinners, and engagements like this are part of my duties. I organize them often—no need to be present during the affair. I’m so good I can make the impossible, well…possible. Like for instance, I got a video of Hayes’ mother and some of his colleagues wishing him a happy birthday.
I do it for Henry more often than I want. The best part of these affairs is that I skip the events, and I don’t have to deal with him.
When I told Blaire that everything was ready and I’d be in my room, she stared at me slack-jawed and said, “You’re one of my best friends and part of this family. I expect you to be with us.”
I’ve never seen someone so offended at me for not wanting to attend her family and close friends party.
I could be in my room streaming romantic comedies and eating ice cream. Instead, I’m at a table sitting next to Satan’s spawn, drinking the most delicious Bellini created on this planet, dipping strawberries in melted dark chocolate, and fantasizing about…well, him.
One can hate a person and want to be touched by his big hands, licked by his tongue, or bitten…
Yes, baby, I want it rough tonight.
Have I mentioned he’s hot?
It’d be pretty hypocritical of me to say that I’m not attracted to my boss when he looks so goddamn sexy. Tonight, more than usual with his black button-down shirt, his hair disheveled, and wearing a pair of jeans. This is so unlike him, yet, he looks as hot as he does when he wears suits.
I wish I was immune to him. It’s hard to ignore a guy who looks like him. The whole arrogant attitude, mixed with those fitted Brioni suits, and the trimmed body… Okay, I have a slight crush, which is becoming a problem.
During my free time—which isn’t much—I ponder about my issue and the possible solutions.
My first thought is usually about how would he look completely naked? Understandably, it’s the wrong path, so I go into the second thought as fast as I can. This happens to be the most important which is, how can I stop fantasizing about him?
The only two solutions I’ve found so far are one, dating a hotter guy. It’s not feasible, since I don’t have time to date. Number two could be more satisfying, too risky, and impossible at best. What if we fuck and purge the attraction?
I suck on my bottom lip, press my legs together, and close my eyes for a second as I imagine him running his hand up my skirt and…
Okay, horny, tipsy, and lonely are a lethal combination. No one knows that better than me. The last time this perfect storm occurred I ended up dating Trey Lockwood. Not my proudest moment. The first two weeks were like a Jennifer Anniston romcom. Afterward it was an episode from All My Children. I was the mistress. The asshole had a wife and two kids in Connecticut—and a girlfriend in New Jersey.
See, if I had my life together, I wouldn’t fall for guys like Trey, or yearn for what my siblings and friends have—a loving partner. Nor would I be longing after my boss as if he was the last strawberry dipped in dark chocolate.
I’d be at home with my significant other spending quality time. I wouldn’t be fantasizing about the ways that my boss could bend me over a table and fuck me.
“Are you okay?” Henry asks with his sexy low voice.
He is so close that I can feel how his words run all the down my ears and make their way into my body like thick, warm syrup. I wish it was his hands though.
When I open my eyes, I realize his lips are almost touching my earlobe and his sandalwood scent caresses my nostrils. His green eyes bore into mine. Sometimes I wish I knew what he’s thinking, others I wish he…
Okay, Trey wasn’t the last mistake I made. It was Henry Aldridge three weeks ago, while he… I’m not sure if he was mourning his father or yearning the childhood he never had.
Henry and I didn’t have sex; we had a moment. Well I had a moment. I’m not sure about him.
My heart skips just as I recall my hand touching is firm jaw, our eyes connected, and his lips parted so close to mine that I could feel his warm breath on my face. He bent his head, and our mouths touched.
For me, it was the usual “the world stopped spinning and everything around us disappeared” moment. When I say usual, I mean that I’ve heard of that phenomenon. My friends have told me about it happening to them, but it was the first time it happened to me.
At that moment, I wanted to believe that something as crazy and incoherent as Henry and me could happen in this universe.
It can’t.
I smile at him and look away. What’s the point of remembering the best kiss I’ve ever had when I know it meant nothing to him? It’s not worth discussing what happened on the top of the roof or have me sign one of his stupid dating contracts.
“Time to go upstairs,” he murmurs. “You and your friend celebrated…a lot.”