AllFreeNovel
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I slipped into a cobalt blue pencil skirt and a Rochas collarless floral brocade jacket in pale blue with aqua accents. It was a new outfit from a wonderful store called Bagutta. I slid my feet into a pair of silver Jimmy Choos as Brent frowned from his lounging position on the king-size bed that we had rocked and rolled on for most of the day. Brent was sitting up with his back against the plush headboard, in a beige Armani suit and matching shoes that were polished so hard, they seemed to gleam and reflect back every light in our luxurious hotel suite. His hands were folded neatly in his lap.
“It has taken you one full hour to bathe and get dressed. You still haven’t done your hair or makeup.”
“You’re a handsome, refined gentleman, Brent. Don’t you care what the woman on your arm looks like?”
“Yes, but I don’t want to grow old waiting for her to get it together.”
I ran my hands slowly up and down the sides of the skirt. “Why don’t we forget about having a night on the town and just go back to bed?”
Brent sighed. “Asha, please stop fooling around. We’re going to be late.”
What a priggish fucking fuddy-duddy! If I’d said that to Nick or Randall, my clothes would have been off my body and scattered all over the plush purple carpet within a matter of seconds. How on earth did this man’s wife put up with him? What was her name? Amanda? She was probably glad that his boring ass wasn’t home.
Time for makeup. I get such a kick out of staring at myself in a full-length mirror and admiring my knockout figure. My body is nothing short of perfection. The essence of womanhood itself. Flawless creamy skin with a slight red undertone gives it a warm subtle heat and a sexy glow that most women imitate with tacky bronzing powders. My Siamese-shaped eyes are hazel in color and sexy as all get out. And, although I’m only 5 feet 2 inches tall, I have the best pair of legs God ever created, and they look their best when they’re freshly shaved and given the smooth sheen of sheer panty hose.
Once my makeup was on and my hair combed smoothly into a flip, I stood back to admire myself. Boy, I’m one great package and it is so no wonder that every man who isn’t gay or retarded wants to be with me.
“Asha!”
I stopped preening. “Okay! Okay! Could you get my coat?”
We pulled away from the Parker Meridien hotel in his ivory pearl Infiniti G35 coupe.
“Where is this place?” he asked. Translation: Please tell me that you haven’t picked a nightclub that Amanda might walk into.
“Relax, this place has been described as the temple of hip and it has the flash and brash to prove it.”
A woman married to Brent Washington probably preferred dinner and a movie over rump shaking.
“What’s the name of it?”
“Pergola 289. It’s on Eleventh Avenue.”
He turned west. “What do you like most about Pergola 289?”
“Stargazing.”
“What?”
“The last time I was there, Wesley Snipes, Snoop Dog, and Terrence Dashon Howard were all in the house.”
“Weren’t there any female stars?” he asked dryly.
“I heard someone say that Vivica Fox was around.”
Brent once said that it was safer to drive with both hands on the steering wheel. So, while he drove like he was trying to earn a fucking Boy Scout medal, I just stared out the window knowing that he wouldn’t risk an accident by putting an arm around my shoulder.
I daydreamed about Nick Seabrook while Brent chattered on about the day-to-day problems at his job, how annoying Amanda was becoming, and what a joy it was to spend two nights in my presence.
Brent is an executive at Tiffany’s jewelry store. He is married to a white lawyer. They have plenty of money but no kids because his wife has a fertility problem and doesn’t like the idea of adoption. I get the impression that he doesn’t have much of a social life, because he is always telling me that I “really know how to have a good time.”
Whatever.
Nick, on the other hand, was a true romantic. He couldn’t drive without leaning over for a kiss, touching my thigh, or drawing me closer to him. He couldn’t watch a movie with me without making out or at least holding my hand and, above all, he always noticed what I wore and commented on how good it looked.
Nick was also a freak. He was in Houston on a business trip and I couldn’t wait until he returned to New York.
“Asha, are you listening to me?”
