"What do you do, though?" he asked, pointedly. "You don't want to be a technical writer, but what do you want?"
"I..." I hadn't told anyone this, didn't intend to tell him, but it slipped out. "I do book reviews," I said all of a sudden. "Nothing formal, but I really enjoy it. I have a website dedicated to it, kind of like a blog, and I read books in my spare time and then write up a review. I can usually get one done every week, or sometimes if it's a longer book it takes a couple. I could do more, but I need to work, too. I don't think... I don't think it's a very profitable business, but..."
Asher grinned. He held out a sushi roll for me on the end of his chopsticks and instinctively I opened my mouth to receive it. Only when he let it go as I held it between my teeth and let it slip into my mouth did I realize what he'd just done. Feeding me like... like a pet? Or something more, something different?
"The way I see it," he said, "you obviously need to do something involving what you love. Books are a passion, but sometimes you need to make concessions in life, too. Have you thought of reviewing something else, or perhaps some other kind of book? A more popular genre, perhaps? Something more recent, like what's on the Amazon Kindle Best Sellers lists? What kinds of books do you prefer? Not everyone enjoys writing as literary as Dante's Inferno, you know?" He grinned a wicked grin.
"Asher, I'm so terribly sorry about that again. I really didn't mean to ruin your book. I still feel badly."
He waved away my concern. Then he scooted further to the side and patted the cushion next to him. "Sit here. It's easier to discuss things if we're closer."
Was that it? Yes, it made sense to some extent, but not really. Still, I went. I would have gone no matter what. I didn't know what it was about him, but I felt like I should hang on his every word, wait for him to demand something from me, and then do it as best I could. And not for any particular reason save for the fact that he seemed like the type of person who would never lead me astray. Why did I think this? What was it? I felt guarded and unsure around him, but I also felt a sense of trustworthiness.
When I went to sit next to him, moving slowly as if in a dream, he brought out a pen and pad of paper from his suit coat. As a random observation, I added, "You're still wearing your coat."
He gave me a quizzical look, then laughed. "I am, aren't I? Well, there's no need for it. I guess I just feel more comfortable in it than out of it." He took it off, revealing the rest of his silver shirt, and put the coat at his side.
"The way I see it, and I don't know much about this business so forgive me any mistakes, but there's many ways to become successful when dealing with something like this. First, reviewing something that sells is..."
"Asher," I said, interrupting. "I know you mean well, but..."
"I'm getting ahead of myself, aren't I?" he said.
"No, it's not that, but..." I didn't know how to say this gracefully, so I just let it loose. "I'm not a very good drinker."
"Oh."
"I don't do it too much and..."
"Yes, sake has a decently high alcohol content."
"I'm not drunk, but..."
"We can discuss business another time," he said with a grin.
"What do you do?" I asked, suddenly. I don't know why I asked it, because I knew what he did. He was the CEO of Landseer Enterprises, running numerous different entertainment and vacation holdings. Resorts, mostly, with a few casinos, and there were rumors they had share in other places, but that information was kept carefully secret. Why? I didn't know. I wasn't a billionaire, or else I'd probably keep billionaire secrets, too. That didn't stop me from wanting to know, though.
"Besides running a multi-billion dollar company, which makes me seem much more extravagant than I think I am," Asher said, "I like photography."
I stared at him, dumbfounded. "Photography?" I asked.
"Yes, but..."
"But?"
"I won't tell you the type."
"Please?" I begged. Like some foolish girl I tugged on his shirt sleeve. It was the alcohol, I told myself, except I really just wanted to touch him, to be closer to him.
He leaned close to me, whispering into my ear. "I trust you'll keep a secret. I enjoy photography of an intimate and female sort. I don't share this information with many people."
I looked at him as if he were daft. "So you take sexy pictures of scantily clad woman?" I asked.
"You make it sound so artistic," he said, rolling his eyes.
"I guess it could be..."
"I'll show you if you want."
"What do you mean by that? I don't want to see pictures of other women."
"No," he said, matter-of-fact. "Of course not. We can do a session, you and me, and I'll show you what goes into it, then you can see the results first hand."
"Asher," I said, leaning my head on his shoulder. "That won't work. I'm not sexy enough."
He downed his current cup of sake, then poured me another, and held out his cup for me to do the same. Together, we drank.
"I beg to differ," he said.
"What do you mean you beg to differ? I think I know myself, and I definitely know I'm not sexy enough to be in any of your pornographic photos."
"Pornographic!" he said, as if it were the most amusing concept in the world. "Hardly! Jessika, this is art. Like classic Greek sculptures, I capture the pure essence of each individual."
"You do realize that most classic Greek sculptures have woman of quite more than adequate proportions, don't you? You basically just called me fat."
"I did nothing of the sort. In fact, I resent that." He rolled his eyes and made to move away from me, but only in teasing. "You're not even close to fat, anyways. I'm glad you like the dress, by the way. It looks lovely on you."
"I do," I said. "I like it."
I inched closer to him. I wanted more, a lot more. I looked up at Asher, saw a look in his eyes that I hadn't seen before. What was it? I moved closer, trying to figure it out, but halfway there I gave up. The alcohol fuzzed my brain. Not a lot, but enough. At least I wouldn't be sleeping on a park bench tonight, not yet anyways.
It made me a little bolder, though. I put my hand on his crotch, felt his manhood beneath his pants. How did it come to this? I didn't know. Asher watched me, stared at me, the look in his eyes changing ever so slightly. God, I wished I weren't somewhat drunk so I could better read him, except if I weren't I wouldn't have my hand on his crotch, now would I?
I craned my neck up, moved my head forward to kiss him, and he didn't stop me. His hand touched my breast, squeezed it, bunched up the fabric of my dress until he held it tight in his hand. I grabbed frantically for his erection, stroking him through his pants. I wanted those pants off. Right now.
Asher seemed the same. But, his wife. I couldn't do this, had to stop, and that's what I kept telling myself but I never did it.
The waiter knocked on the wooden sliding door. "The rest of your meal is ready," he said.
No, no! Asher pulled me away from him, made me put my hands in my lap and sit politely while he leaned over and opened the door. When the waiter saw us sitting next to each other, he raised one brow, but said nothing. One after another, him and his assistant placed plates of food on our table, neatly arranging them around our lover's special sushi platter. Once finished, the waiter closed the door for us, but not before saying, "I'll bring more sake, Mr. Landseer."
"Jessika," Asher said when we were alone again. "I'm sorry, but we can't do this. You're drunk."
Something struck me, some blind inspiration, and I decided to go with it. "You said we wouldn't end our lunch date until I told you my answer," I said. "I'm in no hurry to tell you."
I meant, though the words came out a bit hazy, that he was stuck with me. I would tell him when I felt like it, and keep him for myself until then. It sounded less nice when I said it aloud, but I hoped he caught my meaning.
"Is that so?" he asked. "I said it was a romanticized thought, but I never actually said I'd go through with it."
"You have to!" I pleaded. He was ruining my plans before I could even begin them, and it frustrated me.
"I'll do it," he said. "But I have a few requirements."
"What?" I asked. "I'll do them." Whatever they were, I would, if only to...
"First, we need to cease this. We are both adults, and I am married. We can't act as anything more than friendly to one another."
"Fine," I said in a huff, crossing my arms over my chest. "Fine. That's fine. I don't mean to sound upset, but I never meant it. It was an accident."
"Yes," he said, sounding unconvinced. "An accident."
"You said 'first.' What's second?"
"Second, if you insist on this, I insist you allow me to photograph you."
"I guess," I said. If I gave in for now, agreed to his requirements, then I thought I could stay with him for just a little longer. If I changed my mind tomorrow, what would he do? Our time together would be spent and done already. "When do you want to do this? I have the weekend free."
"As soon as we finish our meal," he said.
"What?" I stared at him, blinking.
"You've heard the requirements. Do you agree or not?"
"I..." I couldn't do that! I was... well, not yet, but I could become drunk if the waiter kept bringing us more sake. And, sexy? How was I supposed to be sexy? I knew a thing or two about it, and I understood the general premise, but I highly doubted I could look as appealing as the women in some of the photographs I'd seen before. Not to mention I didn't even know exactly what kind of photography he did. He said it was intimate and female, but that was vague enough to be almost anything.
"Do you agree or not?" he asked, repeating himself.
"Fine," I said. "I'll do it."
"Good," he said with a wicked grin. Picking up his chopsticks, he grabbed a piece of vegetable tempura; one of the fried sweet potatoes. "Excellent choice on the tempura, by the way. These are delicious. I haven't had them in forever."
His Absolute Instructions
I never thought I was sexy. That isn't to say I thought I was unattractive, but there's a difference between sexiness and an acceptable look. Everyone has something nice about their personal appearance, but that doesn't mean they have that je ne sais quoi sexual appeal.
I dressed as nicely as I could, though, wearing nice looking skirts and blouses. Maybe I bought my clothes at Macy's or J.C. Penney, but they looked good. Probably not as fashionable as women in Asher Landseer's tier, but I could buy ten full outfits with what they paid for a single blouse. I owned shelves full of body scrubs, soaps, facial cleansers, and a ton of other woman's essentials for my early morning routine when I was getting ready for the day. I loved to take baths, used rose, sandalwood, and green tea scented shampoo, and splurged on the more expensive conditioners.
I looked nice; I liked how I looked. Blonde, average weight, a little bit of a tan from the tanning machines at the gym where I shared a membership with a friend. I kept in shape, ate as well as I could, and cared about my appearance. Cosmetics, styling my hair, making sure my clothes were fresh and clean and without wrinkles.