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Nara
For some reason, I let a woman I’d just met, Pam, drag me off to the ladies’ room.
I guess I was caught up with being polite. She had hooked her claws through my arm like we were best friends, and led me through the noisy, tipsy crowd.
One dude stepped right in front of me and shook his finger to start a drunken conversation. But good old Pam nipped that in the bud as she directed me into the restroom like I didn’t know how to pee on my own.
I would rather not have left Brodie’s side.
The Spinster party he’d brought me to was full of New York’s best and beautiful—as well as the biggest bitches on wheels I’d ever seen. I’d never been scrutinized and looked up and down so much. Not that I minded a whole lot. I was pretty confident. But it was unsettling to have people looking at me like they wished I’d curl up and die.
That, I was not used to.
“So, Nara. Such an interesting name,” Pam said, holding the bathroom door open for me.
But the look on her face said anything but interested.
“And you and Brodie make such a good-looking couple.”
“Thank you. That’s very nice of you to say.” Not sure where she was going with all that, but I figured I’d have some fun with her.
“So look.” She placed a patronizing hand on my arm. “I felt it was my responsibility to tell you not to get your hopes up about Brodie.”
Probably best not to laugh in her face. With wide eyes, I said, “Thank you for letting me know that.”
My feigned interest egged her on. She was practically gleeful.
“You see,” she whispered conspiratorially, “he’s just such a ladies’ man, and is still not done sowing his oats.”
I nodded and whispered back, “Good to know. Thanks for looking out for me.”
She touched up her lipstick in the bathroom mirror, looking awfully pleased with herself. “Happy to help. I just felt you should know.”
She fluffed her hair.
I could think of a few things she should know, but I wasn’t going to waste my breath. Like what a great fuck he was, and how we’d shared some of our darkest secrets…
“Should we go back to the guys?” I asked.
She sighed deeply. “Sure. We’d better. They’ll start to wonder if we met someone new.”
She threw her head back and cackled.
I dumped Pam and made a beeline for Brodie, whose gorgeous head towered over the crowd. I wasn’t surprised to see a couple women batting their eyes at him, and his weird employee, Joel, was trying to get in on the action.
But as soon as Brodie saw me, he extended his hand and caught mine in his large palm, bringing my fingers up to his lips in the most gallant freaking gesture I’d ever seen.
I’m sure the women watching assumed I was just his flavor of the week. And maybe I was. But I could have fun for a week.
I was a big girl.
He leaned toward my ear. “Hey, wanna take a walk?”
A sexy tingle zapped through me, and I could swear I wobbled for a moment.
“Please.”
He grabbed me by the hand, leaving Joel and Pam open-mouthed as if we couldn’t possibly have fun without them.
We dodged cocktail dresses, expensive suit jackets, and trays of champagne as we headed toward a nondescript door that looked like it could be opened only from the other side. As we got closer, Brodie whipped out a laminated badge and waved it, causing it to pop open just enough for us to slip through.
The benefits of ownership, I guess.
As unremarkable as the door was, the hallway on the other side was even more so. It was as if the hotel was a beautifully decorated stage, and the rest—the backstage—was ordinary and dull.
Brodie led me from the stark white hallway to a stairwell, which we climbed to another maze of halls. We finally entered what that looked like a storage room with a huge window spanning an entire wall. I drew closer and found it overlooking the ballroom hosting the Spinsters’ party.
A thousand dressed-up New Yorkers flirted and drank beneath us in a sea of mostly black clothing, with the occasional red or green dress adding color.
“Look at all those people,” I said.
Brodie’s arm fell around my waist. “It is a great view, isn’t it? We come up here to check and see how our events are going. It’s a great perspective.”
I fished through my purse. “Can I take a quick photo?”
“Sure. Go for it.”
I showed Brodie my great shot, a freeze frame capturing the party below. It miraculously omitted the unpleasantness that hadn’t been able to follow us to our secret place.
We turned to each other and his palms smoothed over my cheeks, leaving me rubbing into him like a cat in heat. He ran a finger down my arm to my hand, which he clasped. With his other, he caressed the nape of my neck—kneading and releasing. My eyes fell closed.
Surprising me, he gripped a fistful of my hair, his lips crushing mine. By contrast, he held my other hand as if we were kids on a first date.
This man blew my mind. First, he rode around in a limo, but he stopped to check on a homeless man. Then, he was heir to a hotel fortune, but his dad was in prison. And last, he was working hard to make his business partners whole, even though they were scheming behind his back to get rid of him.
And from what I could tell, he handled it all with grace.
I could learn from this guy.
With a small tug, he pulled the bow of my halter dress, sending it slithering to the floor a silky puddle around my feet. He pulled back from our kiss to see he’d left me wearing nothing but a lace, strapless bra and matching thong panty.
“Can those people see us up here?” I asked, inching away from the window.
“Nope,” he responded. “It’s mirrored on the other side.”
