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ChapterOne
Last Hurrah
Brooke
I figure since this is my last night of freedom, I may as well do something wild, sexy, and utterly unwise.
Okay, I suppose it’s not fair to call this my last night of freedom but tomorrow afternoon, I’ll board a plane to be whisked away to some huge estate in Europe. From what I can see online, Red Aerie is centuries old. I mean, the place is beautiful but it’s very isolated. I imagine for the next few years, I’ll probably never be more than five miles from the place.
Don’t get me wrong, I’ll be making four times the starting salary if I’d taken a job as an associate at Wilkins, Brookmeyer, and Forte. All my expenses will be paid as well. The estate provides meals, lodging, all utilities, and just about any necessity imaginable. It provides plenty of luxuries as well. I should be able to bank at least eighty percent of my earnings, and that means by the time my four-year contract is over, I’ll have two million in the bank.
But I want to go wild because it all feels a little bit like I’ll be some kind of cloistered nun.
Don’t get me wrong. There’s nothing about the job that suggests they want to keep me hidden away from the world. The place itself is hidden away from the world. On the other hand, there are something like four-hundred people living there, all of them servants to one man, Aiden Vipera.
I’ve done a lot of research on Aiden Vipera. Actually, I’ve only managed to accomplish research on the Vipera family. They’re richer than sin, and they own pieces of just about every major company in the world. They’re extraordinarily reclusive, though, using agents to be their public faces. In fact, I managed to find an image of Oswald Vipera, Aiden’s grandfather, but none of his parents at all. He has a cousin named Sara, and she must be the black sheep of the family because there are three, count’em three, pictures of her online.
I’m going to be one of the public faces, sort of. I’m going to be a personal legal advisor to Aiden. I won’t necessarily have to draft contracts, but I’ll review them, and I’ll interpret anything the various law firms that work for him might send him. In some ways, it kind of feels like I’ll be a legal babysitter for a spoiled rich man. Well, it’s not the plan I had for my life, but it’s hard to argue with close to six hundred thousand dollars a year, right?
But that all starts tomorrow night. I’ve spent what seems like forever preparing for my career. I’m twenty-four years old, pretty young to have a law degree from an ivy league school. The fact that I have one, though, should make it clear that from the time I was sixteen, I’ve essentially had no damned social life at all.
Anyway, I guess that’s all just a sort of explanation so you don’t think too poorly of me when I tell you the whole point of me sitting in the hotel lounge right now is that I intend to find a reasonably attractive man to screw me silly tonight. I don’t do one night stands ordinarily, but I also don’t ordinarily find myself in New York City preparing to head to the airport to head out of the country to spend four years having even less of a social life than I’ve had for the last several years. I mean, I had a friend in college, a nice guy. We had no romantic interest in each other, but we still hooked up every month or so because we needed a human connection just to survive. That guy was my second sexual partner, the first my high school prom date.
And now, I want a third before I go four years without any at all.
So, judge me if you will, but that’s why I’m sipping a cocktail and waiting for someone to show interest.
As it turns out, I’m the first one to show interest. Well, maybe not the first one to show interest, but the first one to be interested.
The man who walks into the bar looks head and shoulders above every other man in the place. I don’t mean that he’s taller than everyone else, although at six-foot-three or -four, he’s definitely among the tallest.
I mean that while the men here all look like men, this man looks like a god.
He has jet-black hair that betrays not a speck of gray although judging by the rest of his appearance, he’s in his early forties. He’s clean-shaven, which allows a clear view of his chiseled jaw and sculpted features. Speaking of sculpted, his body looks like it’s cut from marble, a fact that’s clear even though he covers it with a three-piece suit.
It’s his eyes that capture me, though. Gray and piercing, they seem to stare through my soul, and the calm self-assurance in his gaze contributes to the general air of command he exhibits.
He’s beautiful. He’s breathtaking. He’s perfect.
And he’s heading my way.
Thank God.
I put on my best smile and turn to him in a way that allows me to display the generous cleavage that my dress shows. He reaches me and I can see the desire in his eyes when he smiles and says, “Good evening. I’m Tan. May I buy you a drink?”
His voice is rich and deep and mellifluous, and a shiver runs through me that’s so powerful, I worry he might actually see it.
I don’t worry too much, though. After all, Iwanthim to know that I want to sleep with him.
“Good evening to you,” I reply. “I’m Dana, and yes. Also, is Tan a real name or are you just pointing out your perfectly-bronzed skin tone?”
He chuckles, and it should tell you how attractive he is that the sound of his laughter causes my pussy to twitch with need. “It’s a real name, I’m afraid,” he says. “I’m told that it’s based on an ancient Chinese name that means magnificent. My parents had a flair for the dramatic.”
“Well,” I say, looking him up and down, “at least it fits.”
His smile widens, and the fact that I can tell he knows already that he’s going to screw me later makes him seem even more attractive.
What can I say? I’m a sucker for confidence.
