Lying to Amanda had been one thing. Lying to him, well, you don’t lie to Mark Compton. Those gray eyes of his just see right to the soul. “No. He did not.”
I’d just admitted lying to Amanda, and he’d stood there, staring at me, assessing me in that way he assesses me, and really everyone. And then, he’s just pushed off the door and left. And this is the thing. When Mark Compton comes in the room, he charges the air, and consumes it. When he leaves, it’s like a bubble being deflated. He takes all that energy with him. My shoulders had slumped and I’d sucked in air. That’s when the sweet, and almost spicy scent of the marigolds had teased my nostrils. I’d sat up and stared at them and it had hit me that while Bossman has been assessing me, maybe judging me, I’d been judging me, too. I’ve been doing a lot of judging myself, and maybe, just maybe I need to be with someone who isn’t judging me.
I’d opened my drawer and pulled out Alex’s card, before punching his number in. I’d then stood up, and walked to the door where I’d shut it, and then before I could stop myself, I’d hit the call button. He’d answered on the first ring. “Rebecca.”
“How did you know it was me?”
“I just knew. You got the flowers?”
“Yes,” I’d said, my gaze landing on the orange blossoms where they’d sat on my desk. “They’re lovely.”
“You’re lovely,” he’d said. “Listen. Rebecca. I’m in Aspen on business.”
“Oh I’m sorry,” I’d said. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“You didn’t. Have you ever been here?”
“No. I hear it’s beautiful.”
“It is. I want you to come here. I’ll fly you here to me. I’ll get you your own room. No pressure at all for more than just dinner and a chance to get to know you.”
I was stunned. I stumbled over my words when I never stumble over my words. “I…This is… I have to work.”
“It’s Friday. Aren’t you off for the weekend?
“I work Saturday.”
“Then I’ll have a private jet waiting on you when you get off.”
“I have to work Monday.”
“And I’ll have you back there. I’ll send you a list of character references. I need to be here. And I need you to be here, too.”
Need. He needs me. “This is crazy.”
“Life is short, sweetheart. You have to live it. Live this part of it with me.”
Life is short. Those words had resonated with me. They have even before he spoke them. They’d become my motto after my mother had died. They are why I dared a job in the competitive, often low paying art world, and I’d made it work.
“Say yes, Rebecca,” he’d pressed.
I’d dared the art world. I’d dared to be submissive. And I’d decided right then, to dare do take an adventure. “Yes,” I’d said, and I could almost hear Alex smiling through the phone.
“Excellent,” he’d replied. “What time do you want the plane to be ready?”
“Five.”
“Five it is. I’ll text you the arrangements when I’ve made them. See you soon.”
“See you soon.”
We’d ended that call, and I’d had butterflies in my belly. I still do. I’m going to Aspen.
With Alex.
Saturday, six pm
I’m on a private jet on my way to Aspen. I’m excited and nervous, in good ways, which I didn’t think was possible earlier today, but I attribute that to the encounter I just had with him right before I left for the airport. Yes. Him. My ex-master. I’d just finished work, and my taxi had no showed. There’s a convention in town, and it was nearly impossible to get a cab apparently. While a plane waited for me on a runway. I had to cancel so Alex could stop paying whatever fee that must be costing him. Aspen, I’d decided, just wasn’t meant to be.
Decision made, I’d walked, with my bag, to the coffee shop to grab a coffee, only because I’d been by for the gallery staff earlier and knew the owner of the shop wasn’t in today. Which mattered, because I really hadn’t been in the mood to have her look me up and down and judge me, but then is anyone ever in the mood to be judged? I really don’t understand why Ava behaves that way. She’s stunningly gorgeous. Owns a coffee shop so clearly has courage to take risks and be her own person. I’d admire her if she treated people kindly, but it’s not just me that she’s nasty to. But that is another story.
Bottom line. Ava was gone so I went in to the coffee shop for a White Mocha. Once I’d had it in hand, I’d settled down at a table in a corner and dialed Alex, who’d answered right away. “Rebecca,” he’d said in this warm, smoky kind of voice. And he’d said my name like it brought him pleasure and it made me think about the ways he might bring me pleasure. Romantic ways. Sexy ways. Not handcuffs, blindfolds, and spankings. It just feels like it will be different with him.
“Where are you now?” he’d asked. “The plane is waiting on you.”
“I can’t get a taxi,” I’d said. “There’s a convention in town. I should just-”
“I’ll send a car. Where are you?”
“Maybe I shouldn’t go,” I say. “It’s so late and-”
“I really want to see you,” he’d said. “Come see me, Rebecca.”
I’d had this warm feeling in my chest when he’d said my name again. “Okay,” I’d said and I’d given him my location.
“The car will be there in fifteen minutes. I’ll call you when it pulls up.”
He’d hung up and I’d started, finally, to let myself look forward to seeing him, but my hand had gone to the ring dangling on the chain at my neck, but not intentionally. Almost like my subconscious knew it was there, and knew it was a problem. It ties me to another man, after all. It took me a full five minutes to convince myself to do it, but I’d take then necklace, the ring, off. Once I’d tucked it into my purse pocket and zipped it up, I’d gotten anxious to get to the airport, and headed to the door watch for the car.
That’s when he had walked in. He was wearing my favorite suit he owns. A blue suit with a blue tie, that softens those hard, calculating eyes of his. But it’s also the suit he’d been wearing the day I’d met him.
“Rebecca,” he’d said, and when he’d said my name, his tone had been impossible to read. There wasn’t seduction there. There wasn’t even torment or loss. Because you see, that’s his way. He doesn’t show emotion. That’s why, in intimate moments, when he’d allowed me to see the pain and torment in his eyes I’d felt he trusted me.
“Hi,” I’d said, because nothing more brilliant came to me.
“Let me buy you a coffee,” he’d said.
“I have a coffee,” I’d said, showing him the cup in my hand, and now, looking back, since I’d been exiting the coffee shop, he had to have known that, even without seeing my drink.
“Stay with me while I order mine.”
It wasn’t a question but a command. And one I decline to follow. “I can’t,” I’d said.
“Can’t?” His eyes had sharpened. Why?”
My phone had rang then and I’d scooped it out of my pocket and answered. “Hi,” I’d said, because why wouldn’t I greet two men the same way in five minutes?