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His eyes meet mine.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, Sonia.”
I can’t tell yet if he’s recognized me or if he’s just standoffish.
When he walked into the office, it seemed he wanted to be anywhere but there.
It would be for the best if he didn’t recognize me. However, my heart falls at the thought that I’m not memorable enough. Especially after what happened between us last night.
I’ve known how thoughtless men can be, though. And given Edwin’s incredible…everything, I’m sure he’s no stranger to women falling at his feet. I mean, he’s the dictionary definition of Daddy if I ever…
Stop. Now.
“Let’s start with the entryway, shall we?” Edwin says, blowing past me and heading down the stairs.
What follows is the driest tour I’ve ever been on, and I don’t just mean my panties.
Edwin says only what he needs to about each location.
I take mental notes of things I want to ask Farley about further. I don’t want to trouble Edwin by wasting his precious time, nor do I want to elongate this “tour”. At least for the sake of my horny addled brain.
My heart skids as we step onto the dance floor.
Edwin stops and glances back at me. “I’ve been wanting to replace the current dance floor with a water feature.”
“You’d…get rid of the dance floor?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “No, just…plexiglass, lighting, water. Thoughts?”
I cross toward him, heels clipping across the floor.
The club is so quiet compared to last night. And yet, it feels the same. Like we are the only people in the whole world.
“That sounds like the upkeep would be a pain.” I cross my arms over my chest.
Edwin smiles.
Score.
“Are you going to be a thorn in my side, Sonia?”
If that means you keep thinking about me, so be it.
“I guess it’s Farley’s call, but my two cents is that it’s going to be too expensive for not a lot of payoff.”
Edwin takes a few steps back from me, sizing me up. His eyes travel down the length of my body, and just like that, I’m naked. Or at least, I wish I was.
“What’s your background, Sonia?”
I cock my eyebrow, for some reason not understanding quite what he means. “Sorry?”
Edwin turns on his heel and strides in the direction of the staircase.
I try to keep up without teetering over on these heels. I bought them when I was far younger and didn’t mind the pain stilettos brought on.
Now, though, my pinkie toes are undergoing pure torture.
Of course, all of that is secondary to staring at Edwin’s tight little ass and wishing I could bite it like a peach.
