“The girls I have fun with understand it’s just that—fun. None of them stick around long enough to get their heart broken.”
“That’s because you don’t call them.” Angie was riding my ass a little more than usual. I wasn’t in the mood.
I shrugged. I would never marry. What was the point in stringing a girl along just to dump her a couple of months down the line when she got serious?
Angie’s eyes dropped and I could tell a sympathy smile wasn’t too far away.
“Don’t even,” I said. Whatever she was thinking, I didn’t want to hear it. “Let’s go a buy a TV, get you off my back.”
“Okay,” Angie replied, her voice soft. “I just want you to find happiness.”
“I doubt you’ll fit through any store doors though, after this meal,” I said, ignoring her comment.
“That’s okay. I’ll wait outside. This mac and cheese is way too good to waste.”
I pulled out my cell from my pocket and slid it onto my dark mahogany desk in my office. I had more furniture within these four walls than I did in my entire apartment, even if I did now have a television. While Angie and I’d been out, I’d also picked up some kitchen essentials, including some crystal whiskey glasses I planned on seeing Grace Astor’s lips pressed against sooner rather than later.
As she still hadn’t called to change her mind about being my consultant, I decided I was going to have to switch up my game.
I leaned back into my leather office chair and pressed call.
“Grace Astor Fine Art,” she answered on the second ring.
“Grace, it’s Sam.”
“Oh, Mr. Shaw.”
Mr. Shaw? I’d swapped bodily fluids with the woman. What was with the formality?
“What can I do for you?”
And wasn’t that the question I wanted her to answer? Kneel on the floor and take my dick to the back of her throat? Wrap her fingers around the base of my cock and squeeze just hard enough? Strip naked, bend over and feel my solid dick as I pounded into her pussy until we both came, panting and breathless?
No doubt about it—I wanted to fuck this woman. Like Angie’d said, I needed to get laid.
“I need you to come to the apartment. Your handyman hasn’t done such a good job with the installation.” I swung my chair around so I could take in the view of the city. Could I see her building from here?#p#分页标题#e#
“That’s not like Mr. Grames,” she said. A rustle of fabric on the other end of the line brought her into sharp focus.
What was she wearing?
“What exactly is the matter with them?”
“I’ll show you. I’ll be available after seven this evening.”
There was a second, maybe two, of silence. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said finally. “I can send Mr. Grames back and you can just tell him what you want changed.”
“I’m afraid that won’t do.” I hated having to pull the client card, after all what I wanted from her was entirely personal, and I wasn’t about to let her off so easily. I knew she found me attractive, so unless she gave me a good reason for keeping her distance, for not giving into me, I wasn’t about to give up. Quitting hadn’t gotten me to owning three billion dollars’ worth of real estate in midtown Manhattan alone. “Make this right, Grace, then we can discuss what you’ll do for me as my art consultant.”
“Mr. Shaw—”
“Grace, I’ve had my tongue in your mouth and your ass in my hand. Please, call me Sam.”
She sighed. It wasn’t wistful, more of an exasperated exhale. “Sam,” she said, her tone deliberate, as if she were addressing someone whose first language wasn’t English, “I’ve explained that I can’t be your art consultant.”
“It sounded more like a won’t than a can’t, and I don’t accept that.”
“Either way, it’s not going to happen. I’m happy to give you a couple of names, though. I have a number of contacts who would be more than willing to help you.”
“I’m not interested in anyone else helping me.” I liked the fact that Grace had tried so hard to hide the most personal art at the back of the gallery because she knew what would make money was at the front. But I’d found her secret art. I imagined she was much the same—hiding the most interesting things about herself—providing the world with a glossier version. I wanted to know her secrets.
I wanted to discover more of what she was hiding, physically and mentally.
“Well, I’m sorry, Mr.—Sam, I think it’s best if—”