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Yet I can still remember Annemarie’s girlish smile, and the way she twirled a lock of her curly chestnut hair around her finger as she talked. I remember the way she carried herself, flirtatious and sexy, but with an innocence as well that made me want to devour her right then and there. I had never been with someone so young, and part of me felt dirty, but my desires won out. The part of me that wanted to push her against a wall and fuck her right then and there prevailed, and damn, but it was a night to remember.
I close my eyes, remembering the sweet smell of her perfume, her silky soft skin, and those sparkling brown eyes. I remember how I coaxed melodious moans from her throat as she writhed on the bed beneath me, melting under my touch. I should have gotten her number, or at least her last name, but goddamnit, the opportunity slipped away. By the next morning, I was obsessed with a 9 a.m. meeting with investors and slipped out the door without so much as a goodbye.
I can’t imagine what it was like, waking up in that hotel room alone. Annemarie probably felt discarded and used, like last night’s trash. Now, I could kick myself for the stupidity, considering how many times the beautiful brunette’s crossed my mind over the past two years. What happened to her, I wonder? I guess I’ll never know.
Disappointment makes my heart sink, the way it has again and again these last two years. Sometimes, a stranger captures your attention, and then for unknown reasons, she keeps popping up in your mind despite disappearing from your life. I sound like a bad love song, but that’s the pull Annemarie’s had on me, for better or worse.
Suddenly, a movement at my elbow pulls my attention back to the present, and I look up to see that the skinny blonde from across the room has sidled up beside me. “You look tense, stranger,” she breathes huskily, leaning forward so I can look down her dress at those strange, perfectly-round breasts. “Is it something I can help with?”
“I’m fine,” I reply, my voice curt, turning away. “Thanks.”
But the woman won’t give up.
“Yeah?” she pouts a little. “And here I was hoping I could be the one to help you over your bad mood.”
“I’m okay,” I say in a frigid tone. “Sorry to disappoint you.”
“Well, you could make it up to me,” the blonde suggests, batting her eyelashes in a way that’s both sickeningly juvenile and overtly cougar-ish. I decide to take the bait. Maybe she’ll go away faster if I do.
“And what exactly did you have in mind?”
She giggles seductively.
“Buy me a drink, stranger?”
The blonde puts a manicured hand on my arm, and I bristle, finally turning to face her with a stony expression. The woman’s eyes widen as she stares at me, her mouth dropping open a little in surprise. “Oh my god,” she gasps, her whole face lighting up. “You’re Bruce Crown! The vape guy, right? Holy shit. I love getting high off your products.”
I stifle a groan. This is the worst part of being the face of a multi-million dollar business. After years of having your image on every tech and business magazine, people are bound to recognize you, even if you’re not a movie star. “Yes,” I reply in an even tone. “I’m Bruce.”
“I guess I got luckier than I thought,” croons the blonde. “And so did you, believe me. A CEO like you? You probably don’t have much time for company of the female type, do you?”
“I do all right,” I respond through gritted teeth. “Thanks for your interest.” Goddamn, what is it going to take to make this grifter go away? She’s putting me off my booze, and the last thing I want is for Anna to show up and see me talking to another woman. I’m not that much of a scumbag, and even escorts deserve respect.
“So?” the blonde prompts, ignoring my obvious lack of interest. “Are you going to buy me that drink, or will I have to persuade you?” she asks, licking her overly-glossed lips lasciviously.
Damn. I’m going to have to put it out there bluntly because obviously, the woman’s not taking hints.
“Look,” I say in an even tone. “I’m meeting someone, so tonight’s not a good night.”
But the blonde’s not fazed.
“No worries,” she coos. “Tomorrow night then, big boy. I have what you’re looking for, trust me. I’ll be here,” she says with a wink before turning to retreat to the other side of the room. As I watch, she waggles her butt, but the woman’s bone thin and her hips jut unattractively as she walks. Ugh. At least she’s gone now.
Morose at that unwanted interaction, my thoughts inevitably return to the woman I’m supposed to meet. Anna. It’s funny how reminders of Annemarie keep cropping up wherever I go, as if the universe is taunting me for losing her. But now isn’t the time for self-pity, I remind myself. I’m here to blow off steam after a long work week, and I’m not about to waste my time pining because that’s not how money gets made.
