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I don’t have to wonder if she went to bed thinking of me last night. I know she did.
The only reason I didn’t kiss her is because she smelled like Ryan’s cologne. It reminded me of where she’d been earlier that evening: on a date.
Maybe he’s good for her. He seems harmless. I’m sure they had a pleasant evening, but I’m not the type to defer. Growing up with privilege didn’t make me lazy. The exact opposite, in fact. I’ve always had to work twice as hard to prove I deserve to be where I am, and that struggle means I don’t truly value things that come easy. I like a proper fight. If Ryan wants to throw his hat into the ring, let him.
The next morning, I’m in the shower, thinking of her, stroking myself with one hand while I keep the other one propped against the wall. A warm stream washes over me as last night’s scene plays out with an entirely different ending. Her full lips were stained red. Her breath smelled sweet. I wanted to lick up every last drop of her.
These sessions in my shower are the only way I’ve survived the last two weeks. Like a horny eighteen-year-old, I can’t seem to last a full day without giving in to the urge to touch myself while fantasizing of her.
It’s only getting worse.
I’ve had relationships before and I know what real desire feels like, but this visceral reaction I have toward Whitney is more than that. It draws from a chasm so deep and so wide, it scares me.
I finish and rinse myself off, grabbing my towel and wrapping it low around my waist. I pad out into my kitchen to fix myself breakfast and check my email.
I have a new message from Whitney that was sent last night.From: [email protected]
Subject: GiftI can’t accept this book. I’ll leave it with Heather.From: [email protected]
Subject: RE: GiftI already wrote inside of it. It’s yours. Keep it.I could have easily put a note inside the book instead of tarnishing the title page, but I had a feeling she wouldn’t accept it willingly. I hope she doesn’t look up its value; she’ll get the wrong idea. I’m not trying to buy her affection. It was simply a gift. Besides, who would appreciate that book more than Whitney? It’s meant to be hers.
She must be awake early too because I get a response just after my coffee is finished percolating.From: [email protected]
Subject: RE: RE: GiftI still don’t think I can accept it.I hate the forced formality. Emailing on the company server isn’t exactly the best method of communication if I intend on pursuing her. I want to ask for her number, text her to suggest we spend the day together. Doing what? Who fucking cares. I’ll take her back to that mini golf course if that’s what she wants. I’ll find that same dessert that stained her lips red and turned her mouth sugary sweet and buy her half a dozen of them.
Instead, I close my laptop and get ready for the day.
It was easy to get settled in my new top-floor apartment. It came fully furnished, and I had my clothes shipped from London. Heather had them unpacked and hanging in my closet before I’d even arrived in town.
The apartment has every amenity I could need, more space than a family of five could occupy, and enough silence to drive someone mad. I only notice it occasionally. Usually, I’m only here long enough to shower and sleep. I’ve been running myself ragged over the last two weeks.
Taking on an In Character position in the park doesn’t mean I get to walk away from my other duties. Instead, I have to manage my time down to the minute and give up a few precious hours of sleep every night. Cal has already begun training me to take over as the Director of Operations.
He’s expecting me at the park early this morning. We have a new ride opening next year and the construction crews have been hard at work. Today we have a progress walkthrough of the site with the head contractor and engineer.
Last night—before I waited for Whitney outside her dorm—we had a dinner meeting with a hospitality group based in Beijing. They’re in town to discuss negotiations for a franchise opportunity. In short, they want to purchase the rights to the Fairytale Kingdom brand so they can build an independent, copycat park in China. The number they threw across the table last night was enough to give Cal pause, but when I meet him this morning, he shakes his head, bypasses a greeting, and says simply, “I won’t accept their offer.”
Of course he won’t.
He’s fiercely protective of his brand. The only way our sister park in London came to be is because I personally oversaw its creation.
