The Billionaire's Wife(6)
The crowd in the parlor has thinned out and had long-since begun milling towards a stage that had been set up in the opposite room. I’m not sure what that room is originally for, but it can’t be all that grand with such little in terms of décor or permanent fixtures. I follow the crowd, offering glasses of champagne to donors who are already completely sloshed. As I walk I feel Ricky’s cum beginning to slide out of me and soak my panties. Just the thought of it makes me ache for him again. I contemplate dropping the tray to the floor and making a run for the basement. This doesn’t seem to be an option though as hands begin reaching around me, snagging glass after glass of champagne until my tray is almost empty, a fact for which my shaking legs are thankful. Threading through the crowd I watch as someone walks up on stage and taps the microphone.
“Ladies and gentlemen, if we could have your attention please? Tonight’s host has a few words to share with you. I give you Mr. Gideon Lambert.” The man is clean cut and has a voice that was obviously born for radio, a treacle smooth voice with velvet undertones. He steps back from the microphone and I start making my way to the back of the room to make way for more guests at the stage front. My back is still turned to the stage when I hear someone grab the microphone again and an all too familiar voice begins to speak.
“Thank you everyone for making this night such a success. I apologize for not making an appearance sooner, I’m afraid I was a little tied up with some business.” I’m afraid to turn around; I’m afraid because I’m fairly certain that I was that business and I’m pretty damn confident that Gideon Lambert is a closet dom who goes by the name of Ricky. I turn around slowly and in the process manage to brush against an over expressive hat that manages to knock two of the remaining glasses off my tray. I see the entire thing unfold in slow motion as the glasses spill down the dress of hat woman before shattering upon the floor with a room silencing crash. Gideon stops talking and all eyes turn to me as I fumble to wipe down hat lady’s dress with the large napkin draped over my arm. She sighs, annoyed that I’m daring to touch her dress and shoos me away before heading towards the bathroom. Now I am confident that my cheeks are crimson and I don’t want to stand up because I know that everyone is going to be staring at me for daring to interrupt the great Gideon Lambert. Almost as if he knows how utterly mortified I am Gideon begins to talk again, and one by one heads turn back to the stage and away from me. I stand up brushing the front of my skirt and balancing the shards of broken glass on the tray.
“You all have been so generous in your donations and I’m certain -” I see his lips moving and he winks at me – although I’m certain that every other woman in the room thought it was for her. I can’t help but smile back at him.
I’ve never been one to fall for the richy rich type but I think I could be persuaded.#p#分页标题#e#
Chapter Four
Sunlight creeps in through the half open blinds and I try desperately to ignore the fact that I have an afternoon shift and a hangover from hell. I knew I shouldn’t have finished that bottle of wine when I got home from the Lambert affair but really, what is the protocol for finding out you’ve just been fucked by a billionaire and will probably never see him again?
Swinging my legs over the side of the bed I hit the trashcan. It was intended to serve as a puke bucket in case I couldn’t make it to the bathroom but ended up as a very large wine bottle caddy. The last gulp of wine still wallows at the bottom of the bottle and the smell of it certainly isn’t doing my headache any good. I need food. I stumble out to the landing before I hear Allison shout up the stairs.
“Missy, you up? You want breakfast?” Allison has been my roommate since our second year in college; we manage to make things work by avoiding each other most of the time. “Miss?”
“Ya. Ermm, ya I guess. Got any good hangover cures?” I can hear her laughing and moving pans around on the stovetop. “Hold on, I’ll be right there, just let me pee and brush my teeth first.” Once I get to the kitchen things are going to go one of two ways, I’m either going to puke my guts up or eat everything in sight; I’m hoping for the latter.
By the time I get down to the kitchen Allison has already deposited what looks like a bloody Mary on the breakfast bar and is working on flipping an omelet.
“Ugh, I don’t know if I can do eggs this morning Allie.” She looks at me with her usual mothering look and points the spatula at my place at the breakfast bar.