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CHAPTER13
Luke
* * *
“What do you think?”Alexa stood in front of the mirror on the closet wall and turned sideways, staring at her reflection.
She didn’t look happy.
“You look wonderful.”
She shook her head. “This is still too tight around the belly,” she said and unzipped the side zipper. It was my favorite black dress, one that showed off her ample curves, and I loved it.
She was right — it was still a bit tight around the belly, but that was to be expected since it had been only just over six months since Leif was born.
It was going to take Alexa a while to get back into fighting form. I didn’t care — she was just as desirable to me now as she had been before Leif was born, but I knew Alexa was critical of her efforts to regain her pre-baby figure, despite my protests to the contrary.
She spent some time standing in front of her wardrobe, looking at one dress after the other, pulling them out and then considering them, one hand over her mouth.
“This one will have to do,” she said and pulled out one of her maternity dresses that had a gather below the bodice allowing for the swell of a pregnant belly. “Will you be embarrassed to attend this dinner with your new investor with me in this dress?” she asked, her brow furrowed. “I mean, it’s a maternity dress…”
“Didn’t I tell you how beautiful you looked in that dress?” I went to her and pulled her into my arms, kissing her passionately.
“Yes, you did, but that was because I was pregnant.”
“You looked beautiful because you are beautiful. You were beautiful pregnant and you’re beautiful now, no longer pregnant.”
“And still have a belly with too much fat,” she said and pulled out of my arms, holding the dress up in front of her. “Does it make me look a bit pasty? It is pretty pale…”
“You could never look pasty,” I said and stood behind her, my arms slipping around her waist. “You look tasty,” I said, smiling to myself. “Like dessert. Which I intend to indulge tonight after dinner.”
“You do, do you?” Alexa replied, her eyes meeting mine in the mirror.
“I do,” I said and turned her around, kissing her once more, one hand roving down her back to the soft swell of her breast. “I intend to get my fill of you.”
“You can fill me any time,” she replied, a leer in her eye. I kissed her again, my own body responding to the feel of her breasts pressed against my chest.
“That’s a date,” I said, and she slipped out of my arms and removed the dress from its hanger and slipped it over her head. She adjusted it and turned from side to side, eyeing herself in it.
“Do I look okay? Presentable?”
“You look delicious,” I said and ran my hands down her arms.
“Well, this will have to do.”
She went to the bathroom to finish her hair while I slipped on a clean white shirt and fastened my tie. When we were both ready, we went downstairs and Alexa wrote down a list of instructions for her parents, who had arrived about half an hour earlier, just in time to put Leif went down for his afternoon nap.
After talking about Leif’s evening’s feed and the expressed breastmilk in the fridge and going over the details of the dinner meeting we were having with the new investor, we went to the front entrance to leave.
“You look lovely, dear,” Alexa’s mom said and gave her a quick hug. “Both of you.”
“Thanks, Mom,” I said and kissed her.
Alexa’s dad smiled. “You do. You guys look like a few billion bucks.”
Alexa laughed at that and kissed her father.
Then, the two of us left, taking the steps down to the waiting limo.
* * *
We arrivedat the venue and went inside. The restaurant was a steakhouse in the financial district, where a lot of high rollers on Wall Street went for meals and drinks. I suspected that our investor, who still remained anonymous up until that night, was a player on Wall Street and that was why he wanted to stay quiet about the possible investment. He didn’t want to affect the value of his own company’s stock or Astra’s eventual IPO. Astra was still a private corporation and hadn’t gone public yet, so we didn’t have stock trading on any exchange, but one day, we would.
We entered the glittering glass and gilded interior and were immediately struck by the candlelight, the soft music and the dozens of tables with white linen tablecloths, lots of crystal and silverware. It was definitely high-end.
Most of all, we were shocked to find the place was empty.
There were no other patrons.
In the rear of the room next to a brick wall with windows overlooking the street was one large table, and that was where our mystery investor sat, with John and Felicia, Jack Tate and his wife, Adam Pierce and a woman I didn’t know but assumed was his wife, Elena Marakova. Beside them sat Frank Campbell and a woman I assumed was his wife.
Beside them, the man himself.
