Chapter 21
Abigail
“You’ve been quiet. What’s wrong?” Devon asked from across the table.
“Nothing. Nothing at all,” I responded, twirling the spaghetti around my fork. We were at the Olive Garden in Times Square. He wanted to go to some posh, upscale place. I wanted the Olive Garden. Ultimately, I ended up winning, saying that I wanted to play tourist and explore Times Square. I did enjoy the street performers, and with it being such a beautiful spring night, they were out in spades.
“You’re lying. We’ve been living together for close to a month - ”
“Three weeks,” she cut in.
“Fine, three weeks, so I’d like to think I’ve gotten to know you pretty well by now. I haven’t heard a single smart-assed comment all night.”
“Are you complaining?” I forced myself to smile.
“Actually, it’s rather refreshing.”
This time I did smile. “Really cute.”
Reaching across the table, he took my free hand in his. “Is this about last night?”
“Of course not.” The mention of the previous night and how he’d made me peak, over and over, made my cheeks warm and I lowered my gaze. I didn’t really know how to act around him. I thought I’d had him firmly planted into the “friend zone.” Boy, was I wrong.
“Why are you lying?”
“Why are you pressing this on me? I’m not the first woman you’ve slept with and won’t be the last, so let’s just drop it.” I said in a whisper attempting to keep my tone as cool and nonchalant as possible.
Was he fishing for information? Was he hoping now that I’d slept with him that I’d fall head over heels and foolishly admit that I was falling in love with him? Well, I had news for him, I wasn’t about to fall for his games.
“It meant nothing to you at all?”
“No, it was stress relief, Devon. Nothing more or less.”
“I see.” Devon released my hands and continued to eat.
Was that disappointment in his eyes? Disappointment because of what? Because I hadn’t fallen in love with him or because he was falling for me?
I huffed, silently chastising myself for being so foolish. Devon Townstead was a self-proclaimed player and ladies man. He wasn’t going to fall in love with his maid, especially with this bet over our heads. Cool detachment. That was my only hope to get out of this situation without another broken heart.
We finished our food in virtual silence. We’d experienced silence before, but nothing as detached as this.
~*~ TT ~*~
Stress relief. I vented to myself as I finished my meal. It shouldn’t have bothered me that she felt that way, but it did, and it wasn’t because of the bet. Fine, if that’s the way she wanted to play it, then that’s the way it would be.
After paying the bill we exited the restaurant and stepped out into the night air. With it being Saturday night, Times Square was bustling, with people of all ages wandering the streets.
“What would you like to do now?”
“Walk,” she replied.
“All right. We can do that.” Taking her hand in mine, I led her down the street. Times Square wasn’t an area I frequented often; there were to many tourists and craziness.
“Oh look.” Abigail pointed to the big screen at the center of the square.
The screen had a border of red roses and at the top in red script writing read “The Kiss Cam.” From somewhere in someone was shifting the camera to center on specific couples.
It panned over to us. Abigail blushed upon seeing who it was focused on. Not wasting a moment, I pulled her into my arms and dipped my head, capturing her glossed lips with mine. She was caught off guard and was stiff in my arms at first, but as my tongue probed at her lips they parted, allowing me entrance as her body molded against mine.
She tasted of peppermint as my tongue began its dance with hers. My arms around her waist tightened their grip, her breasts being crushed against my chest.
The crowd around us began to cheer, but I was so wrapped up in the feel and taste of her that hardly heard the noise. The only two people that existed in my mind was us. When the kiss finally ended and she stepped away, I could see her wobbly on her heels and her face was flushed. The kiss had shaken her up. Good. I wanted her shook up.
“What else would you like to do?” I asked, a grin creeping onto my lips. I knew what I’d like to do, and so did my dick which was starting to strain against my jeans.
“There’s the wax museum. I’ve never been to one before.”
Chuckling, I nodded. “If that will make you happy, then we can certainly do that.” Admittedly, I’d never been to one myself. Seeing a bunch of celebrities immortalized in wax wasn’t exactly my idea of a good time.
“It might be fun.” She defended, shrugging her shoulders.
“We’ll have to see.”
~*~ TT ~*~
Devon
“Okay. Fine. I’ll admit it. The museum wasn’t all that bad after all.” The museum was as boring as hell to me, but being with her made it enjoyable. Abigail raced from wax figure to wax figure, posing with the fake celebrities and taking pictures. She made the most of every second she was there. I was even able to snap a photo of her twerking with a wax Miley Cyrus. She wasn’t impressed over my capturing that moment for an eternity, but it was done.
“Ohhh, look!” she exclaimed as we exited the gallery and continued our walk.
My gaze followed her finger to see a ragged-looking man with a little table in front of him.
“Ohmygod! They’re so cute!” Without another word she left my side and approached the man.
Then my eyes spotted “them.” She was looking at four rats that were painted several different colors. I wasn’t sure what I was more disturbed about, the fact she was so excited about some rodents, or the fact the man had actually went to the effort to spray paint the critters.
“Can I hold one?” she asked putting her hands out for him to deposit the rodent into her hands.
Coming up behind her I leaned into her ear and whispered. “I pay good money to have those things killed in my buildings and you’re cuddling one?”
“They’re cute.” She spun and held the one that was sprayed pink up to eye level. It’s beady pink eyes stared at me. Disgusting. And that fucking long tail. How could she think that thing was cute?
“I’m seriously questioning your opinion of cute.”
“The guy says it does tricks.”
“Oh.” Raising a brow, I looked at the owner of the rainbow rats with skepticism. I think I’m fine not seeing any tricks. “Let’s carry on.”
We walked for a few blocks and away from the square. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.” Heading north east, we arrived on Madison avenue and I directed her to the Hermes boutique.
“Hermes? Why are we going in here?” She asked as I opened the door and waved her in.
“I thought we’d do some browsing.”
“I’m hardly dressed for this place,” she hissed as we past the security guard, who nodded at us in acknowledgment. I could see her discomfort, but that was okay. Whenever she needed anything, I always sent the girl from Saks or Bloomingdales, but I figured it was time for her to go out to shop for herself.
I chuckled, looking down at my jeans with rips and t-shirt. Lucky for me, ripped jeans were the in thing right now, so instead of looking old they just looked trendy. “I’m not exactly winning any fashion contests.”
“I came here a year or so ago, just for shits and giggles with a friend. I wasn’t given the time of day.”
“We could always go pretty woman on them,” I teased, giving me a wink.
Rolling her eyes at me, she began looking. I had intentions of buying her a few things, but nothing seemed to make her eyes light up with excitement. She was right though, not a single person made an attempt to assist. Not exactly the treatment I expected or was used to.
“Mr. Townstead, so good to see you.” I recognized the voice. It was the boutique manager.
Turning, I greeted the impeccably dressed gentleman I’d grown to get to know well over the years. “Grant. Good to see you again.” We shook hands briefly.
“Taking the day off?” he asked, looking both myself and Abby up and down. “Who’s helping you today?”
“Not a soul. We’ve been here for some time and not a single associate has offered to help.”
The managed scowled and cursed under his breath; it was said as little more than a whisper, but I’d heard it. “We’ll fix that. You have my apologizes, we’ve had a very busy day.”
He turned to grab the nearest associate, but I stopped him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “No need, we were just browsing anyhow.”
Grant came closer to us. “Listen, I have something really special out back.”
“Really? What’s that.”
The manager lowered his voice. “We have a Birkin. It’s in a beautiful, rare color.” He looked over at Abby. “It would look stunning on your ladies arm.”
“No.” Abigail shook her head, her dark hair swaying behind her from the motion. “But thank you for the offer.”
I had no idea what a Birkin looked like. I’m sure I’ve seen them at one point in time or another, but wouldn’t be able to point on out in a line-up to save my life. “Are you sure? Grant can take you out back to look it over.”
She blushed. “I don’t think it’s quite my style. Thank you though.” I didn’t miss the fact that she attempted to hide the handbag she was carrying behind her. That wouldn’t do, but I wasn’t going to force something she didn’t like on her.
“No worries. If there anything else I can help you with? I can grab an associate.”
“Thank you, but that’s not necessary. Thank you again.” I gave his hand a shake and we said our goodbye’s. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Grant rounding a few associates up and begin speaking with them. He was pissed.
“Those bags start at over ten thousand,” she informed me as we exited onto Madison Avenue and continued our stroll. “Isn’t that insane? I saw them in Cosmo magazine a while ago.”
I didn’t make her go into any more of the stores, but watched her reactions to the items in the window. When we reached Dior, I got the reaction I’d been waiting for. She hesitated as we started to past the window, her eyes lit up and she smiled. I saw the yearning in her eyes. Before us was a pink handbag with a flower painted onto it. It was pretty, I’d give her that.
Bingo.
“In here.” As we reached the entrance, I veered off and grabbed the door handle, motioning for her to enter. She’d never ask me for the handbag, I knew this. Her pride wouldn’t allow it. But she couldn’t stop me from buying it and giving it to her.
“All right.” She entered the store, me trailing behind her.
We were greeted by an associate almost immediately upon entering.
“May I help you?”
“Yes, there’s a handbag in the window. Pink with a flower on it. We’d like to purchase it please.”
“Devon?” Abigail looked up at me and frowned. “It’s not…”
“Did you want it wrapped?” I asked her, ignoring her protests.
“That’s not necessary…”
I looked back up at the sales lady. “If there’s anything else she likes then let me know. We’ll take that too.”
“Oh – Okay.” The woman smiled and scampered off to grab my requested item.
“Devon. I don’t need a fancy bag.”
“You may not need it, but you’re getting it.”
She leaned into me, lowering her voice. “Is this because of last night.”
“Excuse me…” I cocked a brow up at her. Was she implying that I was paying for her sex? I was slightly insulted. “I can’t buy you a gift now?”
Her mouth dropped open, her dark eyes growing wide. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply…” She cringed, snapping her mouth shut then whispered, “Thank you.”