The Seduction Rebecca's Lost Journals Volume 1(8)

            I didn’t say much about Mark or Ricco to her. I don’t even share things with the people I know well. There were too many years of my mother working double shifts at the hotel she managed, warning me not to talk to strangers while she was gone. Not to tell people whom I knew things that they could let slip to someone else, who would know I was alone. She was so crazily insistent that I learned to write stuff down. It’s better that way, I’ve found. I’m the only one judging me or influencing my own thoughts. I think most people let others decide who and what they are too much.

            As for Ricco, he was amazing to me, and I saw nothing that screamed of his reputation for being temperamental. I warmed to him immediately, just as I had at his party. He’s one of the few people I’ve ever felt this comfortable with this quickly. He has this protective vibe about him that I found surprisingly appealing. Maybe it’s because he’s a good fifteen years older than me and almost fatherly, though he’s far too sexy a man for me to ever think of that way, and I feel no deep, burning need for a father figure. I don’t need or want to be taken care of. He tugs on some deep part of me, though. Really, he and Mark both do, but for different reasons. With Mark, I think it’s all about raw power and just plain lust. With Ricco, maybe there’s friendship? I just don’t know.

            We were about to leave when I saw Ava talking to a man at the counter dressed in Harley boots, jeans, and a leather jacket. The look on her face said she was in lust. I sure hope I’m not that obvious when I look at Mark. Then the man turned around and I took in the sweeping whole picture he made, including collar-length mussed-up blond hair that screamed “wild and wicked rock star delicious,” and I could see why she was looking at him that way. Ricco followed my attention, and the two men waved at each other.

            Then the next thing I knew, I was meeting the “rock star,” who was the incredibly famous Chris Merit. The man’s art sells for scary, wonderfully big price tags. As for the wild part I’d assumed, he didn’t come off that way. He was all business, about to head to a meeting with Mark, and Chris wanted to confirm that Ricco was still donating a painting to the next Riptide auction for a children’s cancer charity he supports. Despite the two being cordial, I didn’t get the impression Chris and Ricco were all that fond of each other. I think Ricco has a problem connecting with most people, but I think he’s just artistic and misunderstood. I’m going to his private studio this weekend to preview the work he’s willing to let me show to special customers, and I’m beyond thrilled.

            I returned to the gallery and was called into Mark’s office. The power that man oozes from behind his desk is enough to make me forget every other man and my name. He then proceeded to drill me about Ricco and to warn me that artists could use my eagerness for success to manipulate me. He said it was his responsibility to protect me. I told him I didn’t need protection. His reply: My gallery. My employee. My protection. Those words were laced with possessiveness, and the way he’d looked at me . . . I felt more naked than I have felt with my legs spread wide for any other man. The air thickened with awareness between us. And then, in a snap, it was gone as if it had never happened, and maybe it didn’t. Maybe it was my imagination.

            Mark proceeded to test me on the material he’d given me to study. I’m pleased that I passed with flying colors despite my crazy work schedule. I’m not as pleased about being tested every afternoon in his office, but that’s his plan. Until I convince him I’m ready, Mark won’t put me on the showroom floor. He was quick to tell me that he plans to push me to my limits.

            I left the meeting with the same feeling I’d had the night I’d visited the gallery the first time. This man is going to have a profound impact on my life.





Friday, January 7, 2011

            Hot banker dude Josh showed up at my door right after I got home tonight. This is what happens when you are a chicken and don’t return phone calls. He had a bottle of wine and roses for me. I tried to be strong. I told him I wasn’t in a place to date. He said okay, let’s just share the wine.

            I should have said no again. But he just looked so scrumptious and smelled so good, and I felt bad about not calling him back. The next thing I knew, I was naked and he was licking me all over and I was panting like a wanton wench who didn’t have any sense in her head. I blame Mark for turning me wet and wanting every time he walks into the room. And I already knew Josh was gifted with his tongue, and boy was he. I was quivering with release in no time.