Chapter 18

Kendra

As the private car wound its way through busy New York traffic, I stared vaguely out the window, wondering if I was making the right choice. I was on my way to the airport where Grant was flying me to Atlantic City with him for our business trip. Although on paper, it sounded like a perfectly sane, even career savvy move, I knew that there was more to it than that.

I hadn’t seen or spoken to Grant since Monday. All our communication had been via emails–work emails. And before that, I hadn’t heard so much as a peep from him for three weeks. Three whole weeks of nothing. Ever since our night together. Ever since our fight.

I still could not believe how that night had ended. Everything was going so well, too. He had told me how he felt about me. I had shown him how I felt about him. The sex was unbelievable. It just felt right. The passion, the fire, it was all there on display. Sex had never felt so effortless before. I was sure that from that point on, all would be well.

But it was never meant to be. One little mistake, if you could even call it that, saw him lose his head. He was so jealous, so untrusting. And the worst thing was that I couldn’t blame him. It was my fault he didn’t trust me. That was actually half the reason I agreed to go on this trip in the first place.

It may have sounded stupid, but I was sure that if I spent the weekend with him, showing him how good I could be, that he would see that I wasn’t the girl he clearly thought I was. He might come to trust and, therefore, love me again. It was a long shot, but it was the only one I had. Three weeks I had spent trying to convince myself that I was over him. Three whole weeks and the only conclusion I could come to was that I was crazier about him than ever.

--

When I arrived at the airport, I was again reminded that I was dealing with a very different boy from the one that I had dated back in high school. It was odd. Even though he had changed so much, he still latched onto the past with such reverence. Case in point was the private plane he had chartered for our flight.

Even though I worked in his store and I was more than aware of the money that he had, I still couldn’t believe that he had a private jet. As the car pulled onto the runway and made its way toward the jet, I actually looked around to see if there was a commercial liner somewhere nearby.

“Late again.” It was the first thing he said to me as I got out of the car. No ‘hello,’ no ‘how are you.’ Straight into criticism. I could already tell that it was going to be an interesting weekend.

“Seeing as I’m on the clock, I figured I could take my time. I even invited the driver up to my apartment for... actually, never mind.” I shot back as I powered past him. I told myself I was going to use this weekend to turn him back to my side. But if he was going to be immature, then so was I.

“Was that supposed to be funny?” he asked, chasing after me as I made my way toward the plane.

“Are you laughing? Or am I?” I kept my voice cool.

“Hey.” He grabbed me by the arm, pulling me up. “Just remember, this is a work trip, and I am still your boss.”

“So you keep reminding me.” I pulled my arm from his grip and made my way up the stairs and into the plane. The whole time, Grant remained where I had left him, staring up at me, a look of what I was sure was anger on his face. Or perhaps it was confusion? Either way, I had managed to rattle him.

The inside of the plane was lavish and exquisite, to say the least. There were no rows of seats like a normal commercial liner. It was more akin to a living room really, except there were seats around the walls and by the windows. I plopped myself into one. It was like sinking into a cloud. Dear god, I’d been missing out by flying coach all these years.

“I take it this is your first time in a private jet?” Grant asked, falling into the seat opposite mine so that he was facing me.

“Barring all those other times I’ve rented one out? For day trips and such? Yes. This is my first time–where are we staying, by the way?” I quickly changed the subject before he had a chance to respond to my snide comment. I had a feeling he was trying to show off, and I wasn’t going to let him think it was working. Even though this was the most comfortable chair I’d ever sat in. It hugged me like an old friend.

“Don’t worry about the details. Everything has been taken care of. Keep your mind on business and only business. Understood?”

--

If the private jet was impressive, it was nothing compared to the hotel that Grant had booked for us. Perhaps five stars wasn’t a high enough rating system for the establishment. It was one of those places that movie stars and presidents stayed at when they were in town. It was one of those places where each room had its own butler who probably made more than I did.

Unfortunately, any fantasies I may have harbored about the weekend were instantly dashed the moment I saw the room. Or rather, the rooms. For some reason, I had gotten it into my head that Grant and I would be sharing a room. Really, I had no reason to think that we would be. It was just that it never crossed my mind that we wouldn’t be.

Grant must have noticed my disappointed reaction. As he walked past me down the hall toward his room, he whispered in my ear, “Disappointed?” Then he disappeared into his own room.

My room was, of course, beautiful; so much so that describing it would barely even do it justice. It had the best of everything. The softest bed. The smoothest silk sheets. A fully-stocked private bar and spa bath. The best view of the city from the best balcony. I almost felt like a fraud being in there, as if the butler knew I didn’t belong. Indeed, when I tipped him, it was more than I made in an entire day. I just felt like if it were any less, he would straight up make me leave.

I noticed that my room was joined to Grant’s via a single door. My heart leapt slightly when I noticed it, and even more so when I realized that it was a door that didn’t lock. Very odd. I wondered, and hoped, that maybe Grant had asked for that specifically.

I opened the door, stepping into its frame but not into Grant’s room entirely. “Very subtle,” I said coyly, as I leaned in the doorway.

“What are you talking about?” he asked.

“Oh, nothing,” I smirked, running my hand over the frame before turning and heading back into my room.

“If you think I had anything to do with this,” he began, following me into my room, “then I hate to disappoint you. But these were the last two rooms available.”

“I honestly have no idea what you are talking about,” I said blankly. “Now, are you finally going to tell me what you brought me along for, or am I going to have to guess my way through it?”

One thing that had annoyed me to no end was Grant’s refusal to actually lay out the specifics of what we were doing in Atlantic City. I knew it was some sort of sales convention, and I knew it was a chance to show his products off to a wider market, but beyond that, I was at a total loss. And for some reason, he seemed to delight in not telling me a thing.

“Dinner is at six,” he said, refusing to answer my question. “I’ve made a reservation for the two of us.” He turned back to his own room. “And it’s a nice establishment, so make sure you dress appropriately.” And he was gone, closing the door behind him.

My emotions were a mixture of raw anger and pure attraction. The tension between us was so obvious, I was sure even the butler could sense it. He seemed to smirk as he stood in the corner, watching the two of us.

But if Grant was going to play games, then so was I. I had brought one dress with me that I wasn’t sure if I would even wear. But, considering the directive, now seemed as good a time as ever.

--

The dress was a veritable ball gown. Opal green in color and strapless in design, it hugged my bosom in such a way to ensure that they were on display. It swept down my body and billowed out around my legs. It was the type of dress that required to hold it as I walked, or else I would trip over my feet. On top of that, I called the front desk and had them send someone up to do my hair and makeup. And, considering the hotel, they did just that.

The end result was that I looked stunning. Beyond stunning. As I made my way toward the restaurant, I could feel the eyes of the other guests on me. I could see jaws drop and eyes bulge. My confidence had never been higher. Or at least, that was what I thought. But when I entered the restaurant and caught Grant’s eye, I could see that my plan had its exact effect. It was clear that he did all he could to look nonplussed at my outfit. But it wasn’t enough. There was no doubt what was going through his mind as I made my way to him.

“Nice dress,” he said, offering me his first compliment of the day.

“Nice suit,” I said back. That was true enough, too. He always looked good, but tonight, he looked particularly dashing, in a navy blue tux and white shirt. I had the distinct feeling that he had been trying to do the same thing I had done to him. I felt like I’d won this bout.

Dinner was a nice as could be expected, considering the circumstances. To call it cold would have been going too far, but it wasn’t warm, either. Coming off our brief appreciation of each other’s outfits, I tried to keep the tone light. I made a joke about how it felt as if we were on a date, only for him to shoot me down and remind me that it was all business.

I tried to escalate our small talk by asking the odd personal question, only for him to be cold and distant. I asked if he wanted to share a bottle of wine, only for him to tell me we shouldn’t be drinking on the job. It was nothing but a cold shoulder from him all night. And to make matters worse, when I finally had enough and asked him what was wrong, he replied with the very cryptic, “You should know.”

In short, when I made my way to my room that night, I felt more down than I had all day. At least during the events of the day, I had managed to elicit some sort of reaction from him. Anger, jealousy, loathing? At least these were emotional responses. But dinner was the complete opposite. I may as well have eaten alone. At least alone, I might have gotten a decent conversation from myself.

As I lay in bed, I was unable to sleep. I was very aware of the door at the end of my bed, the one that led into Grant’s room. And because of that, I was aware of the fact that Grant was in that room, most likely wearing very little clothing as he got ready for bed.

Despite how the day had gone and despite how he had treated me, I was as attracted to him as ever. The reason for it was that I could tell that he still felt something for me. I could tell that underneath it all, he still cared for me and hated himself for it. Knowing that was the only thing that kept me going.

It was because of these thoughts that I found my hand moving down my body. It was because of these thoughts that I found my thighs spreading apart. And it was because of these thoughts that I felt myself becoming insatiably wet as I moved my hand down my stomach and over my lips.