Early the next morning, Ellie splurged on a cab to the Hunt Hotel. She didn’t want to risk taking a bus and getting caught up in any number of dramas that regularly occurred on the bus in Philly. The most recent incident involved a drunken man attempting to hijack the bus she was on with a drumstick. The situation never got dangerous, but it did get out of hand enough for the bus driver to have to pull over and call the police to have the man removed. She arrived to work late that day and ended up having to work an extra shift to make up for missing the lunch rush. It would be just her luck to have a similar incident happen today of all days.
The cab dropped her off right outside of the luxurious Hunt Hotel. A highly decorated man in uniform opened the cab door for her.
Fancy. “Thank you,” she told the man who nodded.
She stepped onto a sleek gray stone walk that led her to the entrance where another set of fancy uniformed men awaited to open the glass doors for her.
“Thank you,” she said again, to the man holding the door open for her.
“Ma’am.”
Once inside the lobby, her eyes were drawn to the humongous and brilliant chandelier that hung in the center above a contemporarily arranged, plush group of sofas in deep, rich, jewel tones. Elegant looking men and women sat on those sofas, reading from their high-tech gadgets or talking on their super sleek cell phones. There was a business center immediately to the left and a Starbucks style coffee shop to the right. Ellie looked around and didn’t see anyone who honestly looked like they were on vacation. As sophisticated as this place looked, there definitely seemed to be an atmosphere of business. Higher end influence and people who were from the upper echelon in life. Rich and looking like they could care less about anyone else in the room.
What am I doing here?
She glanced down at her simple, but feminine, red and white polka dot dress and open-toed red pumps. Then she immediately, felt out of place. It was the nicest dress she owned that didn’t imply Senior High School Prom because somehow, jeans and a t-shirt just didn’t feel right for what she was about to do.
What was she about to do? Try to impress a billionaire? She shook her head.
This is a bad idea. Geeze Ellie, you are full of those…bad ideas.
She was about to turn around and walk straight back out the door when she remembered another bad idea she had just the other day. If she hadn’t gone into that burning diner, she might not have ever met Morgan. Now here she was. She turned back around. Come on. You can do this. You have to do this. After adjusting her super skinny white patent leather belt, so the cute little silver belt buckle was facing forward, she then smoothed out the wrinkles in her dress. Bracing herself, she took a deep breath and continued on up to the front desk.
She approached the lady behind the desk and set her trendy looking, knock-off, Louis Vuitton purse on the counter. Addressing her in her best, strictly business, voice, she said, “Hello, Marge,” after reading her name tag. “I’m here to return a cell phone to Mr. Morgan Hunt.”
The strawberry blond haired lady, who tapped away at a computer keyboard, peeked at her from above her thick, black-rimmed, reading glasses, which were connected to a silver chain that she wore around her neck. “Do you have a room here?” she asked.
“No,” Ellie answered. Why would that matter? “I just need to return his phone.”
“Well, we can take that for you and send it right up to him,” Marge suggested.
Ellie hesitated. Maybe that would be for the best. She chewed on her lower lip while she thought, until Marge interrupted by clearing her throat.
Ellie looked up at her and buoyed her false courage. “I’d like to deliver it myself,” she said, trying to exude confidence.
Marge arched a brow. “Very well. I’ll just call up and let him know you’re coming,” she said and offered Ellie a snooty grin.
“Okay,” Ellie replied, avoiding the temptation to roll her eyes. This lady was nowhere near as helpful as Loretta had been. These people who thought they were superior. She ran into one everyday, maybe two. Like they were anything better. Yes, she lived in a rundown apartment, but she had her qualities. Screw this lady. Now she definitely wanted to take the phone up herself because Marge, for some reason, wanted to give her a hard time. She could have just said, ‘No problem, ma’am. Go right ahead.’ It’s not like she couldn’t find the penthouse suite on her own. It was at the very top of the building.
Ellie tried to calm down, so she could hear what else this old bag had to say.
“Good evening, Mr. Hunt. This is Marge at the front desk. How are you this evening? Is everything to your liking?”
Oh boy. This lady was really laying it on. Ellie distracted herself by glancing at the modern art that hung on the wall next to her. She didn’t know how much more of this she could take. All this staggering wealth, these people with their Gucci, Armani and—
“That’s wonderful! Well, the reason for this call is to inform you that a young lady says she’s here to return your cell phone. Do you know anything about this?” Marge peered at Ellie from the top of her glasses again. “Her name?”
Ellie’s eye’s widened. “He wouldn’t know me,” she blurted out. “I mean, we just met. It’s not like he’d remember.” She shook her head, pleading with her eyes for Marge to just drop the name business.
“Well, she says you wouldn’t remember her and she seems very anxious about saying her name,” Marge said into the phone.
Oh! For the love of— Ellie gave Marge a tight lipped smile and said, “Ellie. My name is Ellie.” Well, so much for going up and surprising him. He’d probably just have Marge send it up, now. Why would he want to see her? Like he even had the time or cared.
“She says her name is Ellie.” Marge’s expression suddenly changed. “Oh. Send her right up? Well, alright, I’ll tell her.” Marge hung up the receiver and gave Ellie another snooty look from behind her glasses, but her smile was cracked. “Mr. Hunt said for you to go on up.”
Ellie wanted so badly to say, ‘Hah!’ to this old snob, but remembered that she was a lady and instead said, “Why thank you, Marge. It’s been lovely chatting with you.” Ellie wrinkled her nose at her, hung her purse over her arm, and made her way to the elevators.
As satisfying as that felt, she now realized she was about to see Morgan again. Of course, she felt nervous, but it made her happy finding out that he remembered her.
She entered into the roomy elevator when it dinged. The interior was all mirrors and fancy as all get out. She pushed the button that said, Penthouse, and then retreated to the far corner. There were thirty-four floors, so she imagined that it’d be a while. She turned to fix her makeup in the mirror and admired the perfect shade of red lipstick that she’d chosen for the occasion. She’d curled her hair and wore it down to show off what she considered her best attribute—her long, chocolate colored locks. The curled ringlets hung down nearly to her waist and framed her creamy, white, face, neck and shoulders. Despite feeling out of place, she knew she looked good.
The elevator arrived sooner than she expected. When it dinged and the doors opened, she stepped out. Down the hall was the only door on that floor. This had to be it. She took a deep breath and made her way towards it.
Once there, she hesitated before knocking. Then with a deep breath, she tapped the door.
Morgan answered on the first try.
She froze and her eyes widened as she tried to take him all in.
“Ellie! Hi,” he greeted. “I wish I’d known it was you that was coming. I’d have made sure I wasn’t—” He gestured at himself with his hands.
Ellie knew she was staring but, good god, he didn’t have a shirt on. Light perspiration glistened off of his lean, sculpted abs and his thighs looked as tight and toned as a professional athlete’s. He totally pulled off the skimpy pair of silver running shorts he wore.
She stood, frozen, at the door for a good long while before remembering why she came up. What is my name? Where am I? Her thoughts whirled around and she could not seem to grasp one thing enough to stop the whirling ride of Morgan in speedos. After peeling her eyes away from his Greek God body, she reached into her purse and pulled out his cell phone. “You must have dropped this yesterday,” she said keeping the tremble out of her voice, and handed it to him.
“Yeah,” he said, and offered her a brilliant smile. He took the phone from her. “Hey, why don’t you come in. Give me just a minute to shower, real quick and…yeah, just come in.”
Ellie smiled back and took a step into his luxurious penthouse suite. “Wow,” she said. “This is nice.”
Morgan nodded. “Yeah. I don’t come up to Philly as often as I’d like to, but when I do, I like to stay here, if I can. I have an apartment in New York City, so I don’t get to stay at that Hunt Hotel too often.”
Ellie smiled and nodded. “So, you live in New York?”
“Lake Placid, actually. I have a house there right on the lake.”
“Lake Placid. Wow.” Yes, she was impressed and depressed all at the same time, this man was so out of her league. Ellie kept smiling as an awkward silence lingered while they stared at each other.
“Yeah, so, I’m gonna grab that shower, okay? You make yourself comfortable. There’s a balcony, over there,” he said and pointed to glass doors behind rich, golden, drapes. “And there’s an entertainment center right over there. Everything is digital. It’s not too hard to figure out.” He smiled and nodded.
Ellie smiled and nodded. Then he turned and went into, what she assumed was his bedroom, through a pair of high double doors.
Ellie exhaled. Oh, my god! This place was surreal. He was surreal.
She stayed planted to her spot at the entrance, while she considered whether or not she should just leave. What did she think would happen? Would he whisk her away from her pathetic little life? This was crazy. Like Pretty woman noire or something. Insane and not real life. He probably had a date for this very night. Some tall, lithe blonde model type.
Dammit though, he was so nice. And he would be expecting her to be here when he got out of the shower. She couldn’t just bail on him like that. She looked around.
His suite was bigger than her tiny apartment. And when she saw stairs leading up, she figured it was probably bigger than her entire apartment complex altogether.
Her whole life she’d dreamed about just having enough. She couldn’t imagine what it felt like to have everything. No one she’d ever known had anything comparable. Then she chided herself. What are you a freakin’ gold digger? Get some pride, Ellie. You need to stay on planet earth. His wealth shouldn’t matter, the man had saved your life, and you need to remember to thank him and then leave.
Then she gazed around again. Might as well look and enjoy something she’d never seen up close, or would ever see again, probably. Wow, his place even had its own fireplace. And above it, a painting of a provocative nude woman eerily gazing out at the spectator. Ellie liked art. This one was definitely interesting. She studied it while she waited for Morgan, too overwhelmed by the awesome feeling of the painting to look anywhere else.
Morgan
Damn that Marge for interrupting his morning run on the tread, but seeing Ellie again, completely made up for it. Man, she was gorgeous, Morgan thought while he showered. He’d known that the day he’d held her in his arms though. That flirty dress she wore, and those cute heels with her beautifully pedicured toes peeking out—was she trying to drive him crazy? His mind raced with all of the things he wanted to do to her.
He glanced down at his fully erect reaction to thinking about her. “Calm down, boy. We’ll have to take this slow. Don’t want to scare her away.” He closed his eyes and let the cool water wash over him. No harm in thinking about it, though.
He’d start by cuffing her slim wrists and hanging her from a height that forced her up on her tippy toes. He’d enjoy watching her squirm for a while. Then he’d tease her. He’d drag his fingertips lightly over her slim, delicate, arms, down to her sensitive underarms, and even further down to her slender waist. And he’d kiss those sweet, rosy lips of hers. Then he’d—
“Goddammit,” he cursed as his painfully erect cock demanded satisfaction. No time for that.
He adjusted the water temperature to cold, so he could finish his shower.
Ellie was waiting. The real thing. He intended to have that too—the real thing.
After drying off and putting on a pair of casual dress pants and a smart looking dark blue polo, he went back into the living area of his suite and found Ellie admiring the art above the electric fireplace. “That’s supposed to be an authentic Manet,” he said. “One of his earlier works. I’ve always admired his Olympia. This one is said to have been a discarded first attempt of that famous painting. I purchased it at a private auction from an Italian man who claimed his great, great, grandfather actually studied under him. Don’t know how true that is, but I liked the painting, so I bought it.”
“It’s very provocative,” Ellie said and turned her gaze towards Morgan.
“That’s the point,” he said with a provocative smile of his own. He took his time to better appraise her and thought, if she only knew all of the provocative things he had been thinking about just moments ago.
“Well, I should be going,” she said. “I just wanted to return your phone—and thank you, for yesterday. I never really got a chance to…what, with all the chaos and all. So, thank you.” She looked him right in the eye and smiled.
Man, she seemed so sweet and innocent—it made him want her all the more. “You can thank me by joining me for breakfast. They have a wonderful restaurant on the twentieth floor that overlooks the city. I’ll call and have them reserve us a table out on the balcony.”
Ellie bit her lower lip and tucked a strand of dark brown hair behind her ear.
The action just seemed so unaffected, so sweet and Morgan resisted the temptation to pounce on her right there.
“Okay,” she finally answered. “That sounds great.”
“Great.” Morgan called down and made the arrangements.
Ellie excused herself to powder her nose.
Morgan thought about her not needing anything else to make her look more delicious. Whoa down, boy. Just take it slow.
Ellie
She closed the door behind her and put a hand up to her forehead. Holy crap! She was actually going to have breakfast with him. She still felt too frazzled to decide whether or not this was a good thing. She’d felt edgy just being in such close proximity to him, and it had reminded her of the reason for excusing herself.
She’d nervously chewed off all of her lipstick. It was a bad habit that she just couldn’t shake. She dug in her purse for the little tube of lipstick she’d put on earlier, only to remember that she’d left it on her dresser at home.
“Crap.”
She looked around at the palatial bathroom. It wasn’t the one where Morgan had just taken a shower in. No, this was the guest bath. Morgan’s suite included several bedrooms, each with their own private bathroom, she’d supposed by the size of the place. She couldn’t imagine such a thing though. This bathroom alone, was bigger than her living and bedroom put together. It housed a hot tub and a separate shower that looked big enough for two people.
Pull yourself together, Ellie. He is used to living like this, don’t act like some poor little girl who’d never seen wealth.
She approached the full length mirror to make last minute adjustments to her outfit. Applying a fresh coat of lipstick was out of the question, but at least her lips had a natural rosy color to them. Her hair still held its curl. She fixed her belt again. The buckle had a habit of sliding to the side when she walked. She’d have to be mindful of that. Other than that, she looked as good as she could.
She would have breakfast and an interesting conversation with hottie Morgan, and that would be that. She needed to realize these cold, hard truths and not to expect anything more. Yes, that would be the hard part. But at least, she’d gone for it. Came all the way here and entered this world, where she knew nothing about anything. She may be nervous but she had done it! Ellie kept the squee from releasing and squared her shoulders then opened the door.