He’d made reservations at The Simple Path, one of the fancier Japanese restaurants in the city. I’d never been, though I’d always wanted to go. The food was supposed to be amazing, with the caveat that everything on the menu had an equally amazing price tag. I could afford it on occasion, if I really wanted, but it definitely wasn’t an everyday affair. And lunch at The Simple Path meant I’d need to put off saving for a weekend vacation or some similar extravagance, so I’d never bothered. An hour of lunch, or a trip to Maine’s beaches for a couple of days?
My God, I really wanted to go, though. I absolutely loved Japanese food. Sushi, sashimi, pork and chicken katsu, and even the occasional vegetable tempura. I dabbled in other entrees, but stuck with the basics most times. There was something utterly divine about a fried piece of sweet potato. It was indescribably amazing.
I wasted precious minutes contemplating food options, and wondering how exactly The Simple Path prepared them differently compared to my typical jaunts to Yi’s Hibachi Grill & Buffet. I couldn’t leave Asher waiting, couldn’t leave him sitting in the restaurant wondering if I’d show. Sure, he’d been a jerk to me the other day, had done some outrageous things, but…
I imagined it all over again. His hand grabbing me, my heart beating fast, his fingertips pressed into my wrist and able to feel each pulse of my veins. Him gently tossing me on his private meeting room table and stripping me down, throwing my clothes onto the floor, scattering them around like the pages of his antique book that I’d accidentally destroyed. And my subsequent arousal at all this. How could I find it attractive? I had no idea, and still couldn’t fathom it, but Asher had removed my distraction rather quickly, now hadn’t he? With his fingers, he’d…
Except a temporary solution didn’t solve everything. After, when I finished cleaning his office in only my pantyhose, I’d wanted him to want me, to take me again, but this time with something more than his fingers. And…
He barely spared me a glance. Barely wanted to notice I was cleaning or that I was in his office.
Then, later, why did he ask me what he’d asked? I knew the answer, understood his logic. His wife was infertile and disliked the idea of having children in the first place. Most likely any kids they had together would grow up under the watch of a live-in nanny as opposed to having real parents. That’s how rich families did things, right? I honestly didn’t know, but it sounded correct.
Asher, though, he sounded like he wanted children. He’d even asked me if I would consider being an egg donor for his wife. Except she wouldn’t want to carry any child to term, so I’d need to do that, too. Was that really donating, then? There were obviously ways to do something like that, but the situation seemed so far out there and strange that I couldn’t wrap my head around it.
What would I say? What was my answer? I’d put off thinking about it, unsure how to respond to him, except I needed to meet with him for lunch in…
Crap! Too much daydreaming, Jessika, I told myself. With nothing proper to wear to a classy place like The Simple Path, I snatched the chemise dress Asher gave me yesterday and put it on. Perhaps it was a little more casual than their typical patron’s garb, but it was the best I owned at the moment.
The dress was patterned silk, with a picture of a cloudy sky on the topmost part, and a grassy green field from the waist down, ending at the middle of my thighs where the skirt stopped. A beautiful, vibrant red rose bloomed from the grass and up towards the sky at my right breast. It was eye-catching and amazing. I hoped, for whatever reason, Asher found it the same.
There had to be a reason he asked me on a lunch date, right? Something more than needing to hear my answer to his question about bearing a child for him and his wife. The way he talked, it sounded like they had a rocky relationship. But could I be content in acting like some mistress to him, if that was the case? He hadn’t even offered a situation like that. I couldn’t accept it, anyways. I had standards and morals. If he tried to convince me of it, I’d have to turn him down. Except, maybe if…
I shouldn’t think these things, and I knew it, but it was hard not to. I was always a dreamer at heart, loving books and becoming lost in them. That’s what led me to this in the first place. My terrible choice of college degree brought me to a temp agency for work, which resulted in me cleaning the Asher Landseer’s office, and…
He liked literature, too, though. And maybe…?
Dammit! If I’d left five minutes ago, I might arrive on time. “Might” being the key word. Now I was definitely going to be late, and I still needed to finish my makeup. Why was I wearing sexy makeup to a casual lunch date?