"So, tell me about the new job." Her eyes glimmered. "Anything going on with you and that gorgeous hunk we saw at Amigos?
"Todd?" I grimaced and shook my head. "No, he is too…. I don't know. Immature. Besides, I don't want to get involved with anyone at work - it's too complicated." I thought of De Luca and my face flushed. Olivia caught the tell.
"What - What is it?"
I told her about De Luca, Broward's warning, and today's interchange. She started to giggle and then clamped a hand over her mouth at my glare.
"It's not funny," I hissed.
"Oh, come on! It is funny! You trotted in there thinking that he would bend over backwards to woo you. Instead he gave you a menial task and sent you on your way!" She smiled affectionately at me, and patted my arm. "It's okay Jules. Not EVERYONE is insusceptible to your charms."
I shrugged and was on the verge of a witty comeback when a server materialized at our table with two martini glasses filled with blue, glowing liquid. "Ladies, these drinks are from the table by the stage." He deposited the drinks in front of us and disappeared before we had time to formulate a response. I drew my blue martini close and tried to glance discreetly over my shoulder. Three suits by the stage nodded and raised their drinks. I gave them a quick smile and turned back to Olivia.
"What do you think?"
Olivia sorta leaned to the side and spoke over the sugary rim of her new drink.
"Fairly cute, they look successful, a little old."
"How old?"
"Umm… late 20s? Maybe even 30." She said 30 like it was ancient. Which, for us, it was.
"Any wedding rings?"
She tried discreetly to squint and instead came off looking like she had discreetly farted.
"Stop that-" I snapped. "We can look up close." What the hell, I had put on this dress for a reason, right? I turned in my chair, flashed my best smile, and gestured for the guys to come over. Time to have some fun.
----
Two hours later.
I am a Cock Tease. I know it, own it, and am not the least bit ashamed of it. I love the chase, and the tease, but don't need or want the sex or the reputation that comes with it.
I had Bob, a 29-year-old Tax Accountant with a bird chest and moderately muscular arms, flat on his back, gazing at me in drunken adoration. I straddled him, stripped down to my black lace bra and thong. My hair fell loose down my back and I leaned forward, nibbling and kissing his neck. He moaned, and I could feel his erection pushing at his dress pants, begging to get out. His hands roamed down my back, over the curve of my hips and grabbed my ass. Continuing to tease his neck, I reached down and slid my hand underneath his pant line and felt the hardness of his cock. It was pretty nice sized, compared to the few that I had previously touched, and I grabbed it firmly, jacked him up and down twice, and let him think for a minute that I was going to do more. Then I slyly bit my bottom lip, shook my head at him, and pulled my hand out.
The fire in his eyes died a little and he looked at me with intense yearning. Right there, that is what I want to see. My confidence soared and I felt full satisfaction. You're done buddy.
CHAPTER 10
8:15am. Brad De Luca's cell rang for the seventh time that morning.
"De Luca." he snapped into the phone, watching the 20-year-old "housekeeper" that he had hired bend over to dust the coffee table. She was dressed in cutoff jean shorts and a soft tee shirt that barely covered her midriff. She did a horrendous job on the house, but kept the clothes to a minimum and bent over a lot. He had a middle-age Russian Linebacker named Helga who came over afterwards and redid all of her work.
"Julia Campbell." His cousin Tony's voice rang through the phone. Tony was a 40-year old divorcee with 3 kids who drank full time and painted houses as a hobby. He couldn't remember the last time he had spoken to Tony before 11am. He must need money. He groaned silently and waited for more.
"You know her?" Tony asked.
His mind searched his recent clients, conquests, and acquaintances and came up blank.
"No, don't believe I do."
"She's an intern, at your office." Tony's voice slurred a bit.
"Oh. She's probably with Broward or Clarke. They keep the female interns away from me."
Tony laughed so hard he began to hiccup. "I bet they do man! You'd be slaying them!"
Brad glanced at his watch impatiently and willed the man to get to the point.
"Who's she to you Tony? We related?" His voice had taken on the rough brogue of his Italian childhood.
"Naw man - I got a call this morning from Robert Hanstle - the yuppie guy whose kitchen I'm painting? He's trying to get information about her - he knows she works for your firm, and…given my last name… thought I might know someone over there."
"I don't know anything about her." He tried to convey a tone of wrapping up the conversation, but Tony wouldn't let it go.
"Come on Brad - give me SOMETHING - this guy is desperate over this chick. She must have magic pu**y, man."
"Sorry Tony. Never met her before. If I learn something, I'll let you know."
"Seriously Brad - give me a call - this guy-"
He hung up the phone without waiting for the rest of Tony's sentence. He looked at his watch again. He needed to get to the office.
---
I woke up buried in the soft sheets of my cozy bed. I stretched, rolled over, and winced at the hangover headache that was pounding in my temples. I pulled my eye mask up and glanced at my bedside clock. Holy Shit. 7:45am. I attempted to jump out of bed, and was squashed back down by the invisible stakes that were piercing some important cerebral mass in my head. I tried again, slower this time, and ended up on my feet. Glancing into the mirror next to my door, I saw a face smeared with makeup and a distinct floral skin design that must have come from my pillow. Ugh.
I grabbed powder blue capris, a white cardigan/camisole set, and some tan Jimmy Choos. I didn't have time to shower, so scrubbed my face as quickly as I could, and threw on some light makeup. As any party girl will tell you - one day old going-out hair looks pretty damn good, so I ran my fingers through it and headed out the door.
I was in the office's kitchen, buttering a stale biscuit and licking some melted butter off my fingers when he walked in. Whoa. It was as if every ounce of extra air left the room in that instance, squeezing all of the space out with it and putting me front and center in his laser beam. Damn. We locked eyes, and neither one of us moved. In his office, there had been a long, empty expanse between us. Now here in the small kitchen, I felt his…essence. It scared the crap out of me.