Chapter 9
Madison
I could still smell Zach’s cologne on my bedspread, and I laid there thinking about the night before and how damn good he felt between my legs. I still couldn’t believe I had let him go down on me. That wasn’t something I did with just anyone. In fact, the only person I had ever done it with was Michael, but he wasn’t very good at it, and only ended up going down on me when we were drunk and he was trying to get laid.
But not Zach, he knew exactly what he was doing, which I hadn’t decided was a good thing or a bad thing yet. We were so different. It was nuts to me that we had such an amazing attraction. He was the CEO of a major company, lived in a penthouse on the Upper East Side, and spent his time with other billionaires like himself. I was just me, the girl that lived in Brooklyn in an apartment made of sheets and worked at an art gallery selling work to people like him.
I turned over on my back and stared up at the high, beamed ceilings. No matter how different our lives were, there was just something that drew me to him like a magnet. I couldn’t get him off my mind, and when I even came close, he would appear with some romantic gesture and handsome smile, sending me right back into a spiral of craziness. At the same time, though, I knew he was a playboy and a serious one.
I had heard the stories of his and Hudson’s escapades. I wasn’t stupid, but even that didn’t seem to matter as his hands were running all over my body. I was so close to just giving in and giving him my virginity, but I knew what the end game would look like.
So, here I lay, contemplating my sexuality and trying to just have some fun with him before he got tired of waiting and bolted. It was the same story with every guy. They either wanted to be with me but couldn’t do without sex, or they just got tired of trying.
That was the big problem. Most men saw me as a challenge, and they loved the thought of wiggling me out of my panties and winning the game. But during the whole thing, while I was falling for a guy, he was too busy trying to work his way into my pants. I knew if I gave it up, there would be nothing left on the other side. So, either way, I was at a loss.
Just thinking about Zach’s hands on my body and his tongue between my legs made me want to surrender, not caring what the outcome was. But in the back of my mind, I knew that I would regret that decision. I threw my hands down to my sides and pulled myself out of the bed, hearing Charlotte up and around in the kitchen. I needed some coffee and a clear head before I had to start getting ready for the show at the gallery.
I pulled on my pajama pants so Charlotte wouldn’t be suspicious as to why I was still in my shirt from last night but wasn’t wearing pants. Then, I trotted out happily to the kitchen. I grabbed a mug from the cabinet and poured myself a cup of coffee, taking in a deep whiff of its scent, trying to get Zach’s cologne out of my nose. Charlotte looked completely disheveled, and I realized she hadn’t come home at all the night before. I rolled my eyes, realizing she must have gone home with some guy, sneaking back into the apartment in the morning like I wouldn’t even notice. By now, she should know I always noticed these things.
“Well, hello there,” I said, smiling. “You look like you had a fun night.”
“Oh my God.” She laughed. “I feel like death. I drank way too much last night. But I was pretty proud of myself when I woke up next to this serious hottie and his big tanned muscles this morning. Though I was seriously confused as to where I was and ended up wandering around the back half of Manhattan for an hour before I found my way out.”
“You should be more careful.” I frowned. “You are going to end up in someone’s blender one day. Or worse, sold into a crazy sex trade and end up feeding Jafar berries.”
“Did you just mix a serial killer with Aladdin?”
“Dude, Jafar would have totally blended Jasmine up into a fresh morning beverage if it weren’t a Disney movie,” I replied.
“Well, weirdo, I didn’t get blended,” she said. “Here I am. How about you? How was your date with Mr. Billionaire?”
“Ugh,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I don’t even know where to start.”
“Wow, is that bad or good?”
“I still haven’t figured that out yet,” I replied. “We started out by going to karaoke. It was great. We laughed, we told stories, and he told me about the only relationship he has ever been in. We really got some bonding in, between sets on stage. We had a few beers, but not enough to impair my judgment.”
“Then?” She sat down in front of me and stared at my face.
“Then we left,” I said, trying to skirt the question.
“No, no, I see it all over your face. What happened then?”
“Well, we came back here, and I invited him in. Okay, seriously, the guy is like the best kisser I have ever met.” My voice was ecstatic.
“You’ve kissed like four people, so your assessment may be flawed,” she pointed out. “What next?”
“We moved into my room,” I said, blushing. “And he went down on me.”
“No,” Charlotte gasped. “You dirty little thing. Did you guys do it? Was he good? Give me the details.”
“We did not do it,” I said triumphantly. “He was very much a gentleman about it. But let me just say, it was really freaking hard to resist him after the way he moved his tongue.”
“Ooh,” Charlotte squealed. “You sound like you really like this guy.”
“I wouldn’t say all that,” I said, surprised. “I mean, we’ve been on like two dates.”
“Well,” she said, throwing her toast down and walking over to the sink. “You sure talk about him like you like him, and you let him in your pants, which speaks volumes. It’s pretty much written all over your face.”
Charlotte put her dishes in the sink and leaned down, kissing me on the cheek. I watched her walk out of the kitchen area and into the bathroom to take a shower. I knew that she could read me really well on a normal basis, but she had to be off on this one. Sure, I found this guy physically appealing, and yes, I had dabbled in some sexual activity with him, but that didn’t mean I really liked him. Did it? I shook the thought from my head when I looked up at the clock, realizing I was going to be late for work. As I changed my clothes and pulled my hair back into a tight ponytail, I contemplated my feelings. Did I actually have a crush on Zach?
After I was dressed, I waited for Charlotte to get out of the shower so I could brush my teeth and put on some makeup. I did not feel like going into work and listening to Lee and his constant nagging, especially with butterflies shooting into my stomach every time I pictured Zach’s head between my legs. But I knew if I called out, Lee would make life absolute hell for me, and that was the last thing I needed.
I took in a deep breath, threw my jacket on, kissed Charlotte on the cheek, and walked out into the not so fresh air of the city. It was sunny out, and even the birds had ventured down to Brooklyn for the day. The weather seemed to be mirroring my mood quite nicely.
That mood changed rather quickly, though, when I walked into the gallery and was told to shush before I had even said a word. Lee was on the phone with what I guessed to be a possible new artist, but he didn’t sound very happy at all. From the sound of it, the artist decided to go with someone else, taking his business and his money with him. I didn’t know why or what was going on, but I had a sneaking suspicion it had something to do with the fact that Lee was a serious scumbag.
I shrugged my shoulders, hung up my coat, and grabbed the cleaning supplies. It was that time of the week where I got everything spic and span for any upcoming shows over the weekend. That included dusting on a wobbly ladder, spraying every flat surface with Windex, and vacuuming for like three hours.
As Lee hung up the phone, I braced myself for impact, knowing that angry growling face anywhere. He was pissed, and I was the only one around for him to take it out on. I stepped back as he marched toward the front, slamming the phone on the desk and staring at me with his beady eyes. He looked me over from head to toe, making me want to scrub the gross off my body.
“No cleaning today,” he growled. “I need quiet. I’m going to my office to work on my masterpiece. Do not disturb me unless it is an emergency. Go do some filing or something.”
I didn’t even nod my head. I just stared at him with contempt. I hated filing with the passion of a thousand suns, and he knew that. I slowly set the Windex down on the podium and watched him walk away. As soon as he rounded the corner, I sprayed the Windex in the air in frustration. Why did he always have to ruin my good mood?
I put the cleaning products away and plopped down in the desk rolling chair. There was enough stuff to get filed, since we had sold quite a bit of artwork lately. The studio was getting higher up there on the scale of popular studios. The biggest problem was the fact that it was in Brooklyn. The poor didn’t buy art, and the rich didn’t want to come to Brooklyn. Not that I blamed them.
Just thinking about the rich brought Zach into my mind, and I let him stay there. If I was going to have to do tedious, ridiculous work like filing, I was going to at least have something fun to think about in the meantime. The fact that Zach was the first thing that popped into my mind made me think that Charlotte just might be right. I might actually have a crush on this guy.
I sighed and looked out at the sunshine, wishing I was sitting on the roof of my apartment, painting some fantastic piece and becoming that sexy, mysterious girl all the guys wanted. Instead, I was sitting in a closed art studio, filing receipts for artwork that sold for more money than I would ever make, thinking about a guy that may or may not be playing me to get into my pants. What ever happened to the simple life where I had a boyfriend, a false sense of hope, and a refreshingly excited view of the art world, untainted by the sinister creep of negativity you get over the years?
I dropped a stack of receipts into the Wallinski file for us to process in the next two days and slammed the door shut, realizing before I did any filing, I will have to organize. Easier said than done with the Prince of New York popping into my mind every five seconds. I needed to get over this, but for some reason, I just couldn’t.