Easy Virtue
Page 25
I just …
I just wish the thought didn’t make me feel sick to my stomach.
WORKING IN AN EXTREMELY HIP eatery in Midtown means that we get a huge influx of powerful men around lunch and dinnertime. Politicians, executives, lawyers, and businessmen all come here to conduct business (more like trying to assert who has the bigger cock when they aren’t stroking each other’s egos) while eating an overpriced piece of meat. It’s one of the reasons why I loved my job so much. This place is what you’d call the perfect hunting grounds for someone like me. It’s how I met Walker … and a few others.
And today, for the first time in a very long time, I wish I weren’t here. That thrill that I used to get when men looked my way? Gone. That nervous energy that always had me on the move and never satisfied? Finito. There’s no noise filling my head and disrupting my peace of mind. I’m a floating cloud on a blue morning sky. I’m a loose leaf twirling in the air, dancing with the breeze as my partner. I feel carefree. And Ronan has done that to me.
I smile at a couple as I tell them that their table is ready, but the smile isn’t for them; it’s for Ronan and Ronan alone. My body might be here, but my mind is with him back at his small apartment, making love on a warm bed. I might be standing here dressed in Prada from head to toe, but I’d prefer to be wearing nothing but the scent of Ronan on me. Ronan is my new favorite brand.
“Blaire? Hello! Are you there?” Elly says, bringing me out of my reverie.
“Oh hey, Elly. How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough to see that your mind is somewhere else, or with someone else.”
I sigh, smoothing the nonexistent wrinkles away from my black pencil skirt. “Sorry. Yeah, I was thinking of Ronan.”
She looks at me as though I had two heads.
“Brooklyn boy?” I remind her.
Elly smiles as she grabs my pen and twirls it in between her fingers. “I knew it. You’ve been acting funny this past month. And if you’re telling me his name, things must be getting serious.”
“They aren’t. We’re just having fun, and what do you mean funny?”
She shrugs. “You really can’t see it, huh? And I don’t know, you’re always smiling now. And by the way you’re glowing, I can definitely tell that you, my friend, got laid last night.”
I roll my eyes but can’t help smiling. “You’re wrong. Well, partially wrong.” I glance at her sideways. “I got laid last night and this morning.”
“You loose woman,” she teases.
I blow her a kiss playfully. “And proud to be one.”
We laugh quietly, making sure we don’t draw too much attention to us. “Elly, I don’t know what I’m going to do. I really, really, really like him. It’s scary how happy he makes me.” I look down at my nails, noticing that my usually pristine manicure is chipping away. “But I’m not good enough for him. He’s everything that I’m not. He’s the kind of guy a nice girl should date, not one as fucked up as me.”
“There’re a few risks worth taking in this life,” she says, grabbing my hand. “And love? Love is one of them, even if you don’t know how it will end. Quit your ice queen act, drop your resting bitch face, and let things happen. You might be surprised at how they turn out. And, FYI, everyone is fucked up. Some people are just better at hiding it than others.”
We stop mid-conversation when we hear the glass doors open and close. I turn toward the entrance, a ready smile on my face for the next customer.
But I freeze.
Because standing in front of me is Lawrence Rothschild looking as sinfully handsome as I remembered him. He’s with a large party of suits, but my eyes only see him, drink him in, savor him, all men fading to a meaningless background next to him. As we stare at each other, I feel my body coming alive with desire—with an attraction that would be foolish to deny.
I clear my throat, pulling myself together. “Welcome to Homme,” I say, my voice trembling slightly.
He smiles an easy smile, one that charms and unarms me at the same time. One that lets me know he’s aware of how unsettling his presence is to me. One that pushes Ronan out of my head. “Hello Blaire.”
My name on his lips is a soft caress and as inebriating as a kiss.
He’s smoke; dark, dark smoke that clouds my senses, whispers against my skin, and fills up my lungs, polluting me with his intoxicating beauty. I’m about to answer him when I hear Elly politely excuse herself, saying that she has to get back to work. As she’s passing by me, she whispers in my ear, “Don’t sabotage yourself.”
Focusing on Lawrence and his party, I nod without looking at her. Her warning angers me. She tells me not to sabotage myself, but what she doesn’t realize is that my feelings for Ronan already have.
I’m changing.
It started with little things such as my clothes and my hair, even my makeup—less plastic, less suggestive, natural and soft. And today, it’s work. I usually go over the schedule as soon as I get to the restaurant, especially if I’m not at work the day before when the confirmation calls go out. I like having an idea of who will be dining with us and how busy we’ll be. I’m annoyed at myself because I’ve been too preoccupied with a man, letting my emotions mess with my head and my priorities, and not doing my job properly. Because if my priorities were straight, if I had my act together, I would have known that Lawrence, or as his name appears on the computer, Mr. Rothschild, had a reservation this afternoon.
Ronan and his sweet kisses have managed to turn my world upside down in a matter of weeks, making me feel as though I’m losing control over my own life. I’m breaking my number one rule which is to never think with my heart, and that’s going to get me hurt. The heart is stupid. The heart is easily fooled, leaving you exposed and weak. And I’m angry with myself for allowing it to happen in the first place.
My manager, Carl, must have recognized Lawrence because before I have time to utter a word, he’s standing next to me, welcoming him. He tells him that his table is ready and that it would be his pleasure to take him to it.
Lawrence doesn’t even bother looking at him, his eyes holding mine captive, devouring me. “Actually, I’d like to have a word with Ms. White first.” He pauses, the hint of a smile promising everything that is forbidden and wonderful on his lips. “Privately.”
We’re in Carl’s office.
I’m standing in front of the metal desk and Lawrence is by the door, an entire room between us, yet I swear I can feel him as though he is next to me and our bodies are touching. We stare at each other in silence, tension making the small hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
With his hands in his front pockets, his stance is relaxed and imposing all at once, but he doesn’t fool me. He wants to intimidate me. He wants me to be the first one to break. However, I know how to play his game. I cross my arms and continue to stare at him in silence.
He’s the first one to speak.
“I misjudged you. I thought that you would call, and I’m never wrong.” He tilts his head to the side, his sardonic smile making the corners of his eyes crinkle with laugh lines. “I must say it’s a novel thing, and one that I don’t enjoy.”
I just wish the thought didn’t make me feel sick to my stomach.
WORKING IN AN EXTREMELY HIP eatery in Midtown means that we get a huge influx of powerful men around lunch and dinnertime. Politicians, executives, lawyers, and businessmen all come here to conduct business (more like trying to assert who has the bigger cock when they aren’t stroking each other’s egos) while eating an overpriced piece of meat. It’s one of the reasons why I loved my job so much. This place is what you’d call the perfect hunting grounds for someone like me. It’s how I met Walker … and a few others.
And today, for the first time in a very long time, I wish I weren’t here. That thrill that I used to get when men looked my way? Gone. That nervous energy that always had me on the move and never satisfied? Finito. There’s no noise filling my head and disrupting my peace of mind. I’m a floating cloud on a blue morning sky. I’m a loose leaf twirling in the air, dancing with the breeze as my partner. I feel carefree. And Ronan has done that to me.
I smile at a couple as I tell them that their table is ready, but the smile isn’t for them; it’s for Ronan and Ronan alone. My body might be here, but my mind is with him back at his small apartment, making love on a warm bed. I might be standing here dressed in Prada from head to toe, but I’d prefer to be wearing nothing but the scent of Ronan on me. Ronan is my new favorite brand.
“Blaire? Hello! Are you there?” Elly says, bringing me out of my reverie.
“Oh hey, Elly. How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough to see that your mind is somewhere else, or with someone else.”
I sigh, smoothing the nonexistent wrinkles away from my black pencil skirt. “Sorry. Yeah, I was thinking of Ronan.”
She looks at me as though I had two heads.
“Brooklyn boy?” I remind her.
Elly smiles as she grabs my pen and twirls it in between her fingers. “I knew it. You’ve been acting funny this past month. And if you’re telling me his name, things must be getting serious.”
“They aren’t. We’re just having fun, and what do you mean funny?”
She shrugs. “You really can’t see it, huh? And I don’t know, you’re always smiling now. And by the way you’re glowing, I can definitely tell that you, my friend, got laid last night.”
I roll my eyes but can’t help smiling. “You’re wrong. Well, partially wrong.” I glance at her sideways. “I got laid last night and this morning.”
“You loose woman,” she teases.
I blow her a kiss playfully. “And proud to be one.”
We laugh quietly, making sure we don’t draw too much attention to us. “Elly, I don’t know what I’m going to do. I really, really, really like him. It’s scary how happy he makes me.” I look down at my nails, noticing that my usually pristine manicure is chipping away. “But I’m not good enough for him. He’s everything that I’m not. He’s the kind of guy a nice girl should date, not one as fucked up as me.”
“There’re a few risks worth taking in this life,” she says, grabbing my hand. “And love? Love is one of them, even if you don’t know how it will end. Quit your ice queen act, drop your resting bitch face, and let things happen. You might be surprised at how they turn out. And, FYI, everyone is fucked up. Some people are just better at hiding it than others.”
We stop mid-conversation when we hear the glass doors open and close. I turn toward the entrance, a ready smile on my face for the next customer.
But I freeze.
Because standing in front of me is Lawrence Rothschild looking as sinfully handsome as I remembered him. He’s with a large party of suits, but my eyes only see him, drink him in, savor him, all men fading to a meaningless background next to him. As we stare at each other, I feel my body coming alive with desire—with an attraction that would be foolish to deny.
I clear my throat, pulling myself together. “Welcome to Homme,” I say, my voice trembling slightly.
He smiles an easy smile, one that charms and unarms me at the same time. One that lets me know he’s aware of how unsettling his presence is to me. One that pushes Ronan out of my head. “Hello Blaire.”
My name on his lips is a soft caress and as inebriating as a kiss.
He’s smoke; dark, dark smoke that clouds my senses, whispers against my skin, and fills up my lungs, polluting me with his intoxicating beauty. I’m about to answer him when I hear Elly politely excuse herself, saying that she has to get back to work. As she’s passing by me, she whispers in my ear, “Don’t sabotage yourself.”
Focusing on Lawrence and his party, I nod without looking at her. Her warning angers me. She tells me not to sabotage myself, but what she doesn’t realize is that my feelings for Ronan already have.
I’m changing.
It started with little things such as my clothes and my hair, even my makeup—less plastic, less suggestive, natural and soft. And today, it’s work. I usually go over the schedule as soon as I get to the restaurant, especially if I’m not at work the day before when the confirmation calls go out. I like having an idea of who will be dining with us and how busy we’ll be. I’m annoyed at myself because I’ve been too preoccupied with a man, letting my emotions mess with my head and my priorities, and not doing my job properly. Because if my priorities were straight, if I had my act together, I would have known that Lawrence, or as his name appears on the computer, Mr. Rothschild, had a reservation this afternoon.
Ronan and his sweet kisses have managed to turn my world upside down in a matter of weeks, making me feel as though I’m losing control over my own life. I’m breaking my number one rule which is to never think with my heart, and that’s going to get me hurt. The heart is stupid. The heart is easily fooled, leaving you exposed and weak. And I’m angry with myself for allowing it to happen in the first place.
My manager, Carl, must have recognized Lawrence because before I have time to utter a word, he’s standing next to me, welcoming him. He tells him that his table is ready and that it would be his pleasure to take him to it.
Lawrence doesn’t even bother looking at him, his eyes holding mine captive, devouring me. “Actually, I’d like to have a word with Ms. White first.” He pauses, the hint of a smile promising everything that is forbidden and wonderful on his lips. “Privately.”
We’re in Carl’s office.
I’m standing in front of the metal desk and Lawrence is by the door, an entire room between us, yet I swear I can feel him as though he is next to me and our bodies are touching. We stare at each other in silence, tension making the small hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
With his hands in his front pockets, his stance is relaxed and imposing all at once, but he doesn’t fool me. He wants to intimidate me. He wants me to be the first one to break. However, I know how to play his game. I cross my arms and continue to stare at him in silence.
He’s the first one to speak.
“I misjudged you. I thought that you would call, and I’m never wrong.” He tilts his head to the side, his sardonic smile making the corners of his eyes crinkle with laugh lines. “I must say it’s a novel thing, and one that I don’t enjoy.”
