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We find a pressed suit for my boss and a black dress for myself. Mr. Peak begins to get dressed as he explains his intentions. “Tonight, there is a gala at the Met. Some fashion thing I am always invited to and never attend. It is traditionally New York’s biggest nights for the rich and powerful. We will be there in attendance tonight. And you will be introduced to the world as my woman.”
My jaw drops. He is presenting me to the press and to the world as his woman?! Oh f**k! Mr. Peak walks up to me and grabs my shoulders. “This will be your ultimate seduction. You will smile for the cameras. You will make the press, New York society and the world fall in love with you. You will be charming. You will be stylish. You will be my Jackie O, my Princess Grace,” Mr. Peak says as he pauses for a moment and then continues. “You will be my better half.”
***
Mr. Peak’s last words kept resonating through my head. You will be my better half. Our bond is complete. My boss makes the rounds to his traders. He has an intimate conversation with his managing director. I can’t help but listen to the intense conversation. It sounds like many of the gold and silver coins have been recovered from the street below. The fifteen million dollars in cash is gone due to the fact that the paper money is pretty much untraceable. My boss doesn’t seem to be too upset about that. He seems more concerned about any potential bad publicity.
After my boss finishes his conversations with his staff, the two of us descend down to the lobby. I am still very much intimidated by my boss so I dare not make any small talk. When we get to the lobby, the cleaning crews are just about done sweeping up the glass around Columbus Circle.
Mr. Peak and I get into a stretched Maybach and head out of the Time Warner Center. We cruise to the Upper West Side. Oh my goodness, I am going to see Mr. Peak’s townhouse! We make a turn onto East 81st Street. This is true blueblood territory. I have been to New York a few times before but I have never stepped foot into this exclusive enclave.
The vehicle stops in front of a large five story townhouse, which is twice as wide as any of the neighboring properties. I arch my head up and look at the intricate marble work on the townhome. This thing looks like it was built during the Gilded Age. Impressive.
I follow my boss inside of the townhome. The entryway is completely white save for a tasteful black and white marble flooring. An iron chandelier illuminates the space in an angelic glow. The entire room is a blend of masculine simplicity.
My boss notices me gawking at his impressive townhome. He snaps his fingers and orders me to “Keep up.” I dutifully follow behind him. He leads me to his private elevator. Wow. What else should I expect?
We stand close to each other as the elevator glides up to Mr. Peak’s New York lair. “Vera Wang is sending over your dress for the evening,” Mr. Peak says simply. Hey, what else can I expect from my boss. He may be all man but he certainly has good taste in women’s fashion.
The elevator stops at the third floor. The doors open and I am hit with the sight of the most opulent room I have ever seen in my life! The furniture looks like it was plundered from the finest castles in Europe. The walls are filled with Renaissance paintings. At the center of the space is a Roman statue of a nak**ed woman. I walk up to the statue of the woman who appears to be washing her hair.
“There are very few ancient Roman statues of women in the nude,” Mr. Peak lectures. He says that with a sense of pride. I notice that the statue is bathed in light. My boss puts his hands around me. “The model who posed for the sculpture impressed an artist who dedicated years to capturing her image in stone. Even though that Roman woman has been dead for thousands of years, her image still captivates people today. Her soul lives in that sculpted piece of rock. That, Sarah, is the power of seduction,” Mr. Peak informs me as he kisses my neck. Dammit. This man is as good with his mind as well as his lips.
Mr. Peak continues his tour of the townhome. Every room is drop dead gorgeous. We take a sweeping staircase up to the top floor and my boss’s master bedroom. Now, I know my boss is a billionaire, but I can’t get over the fact that one man can own so many luxurious pieces of art, possessions, vehicles and real estate. It’s intoxicating.
As I walk around the top floor, I notice a set of stairs leading up to the ceiling. “Where does that go, Sir?” I ask. Mr. Peak walks up the stairs and shows me the door that leads to the roof of the townhouse. Now, that’s fun!
I follow my boss to the roof. The warm breeze of the summer city air hits my body. We walk around the rooftop terrace. I look over the side and see yellow cabs snake through 81st Street. I also catch a glimpse of Central Park just a few blocks away.
