Attraction (31 page)

“You know you don’t have to go back up to Santa Rosa,” he said, his head still turned
away out the window. Then he looked at her, his face impassive and guarded. “You can stay at
my place for as long as you like.”
Riley suppressed a sigh. They had been over this before. She didn’t understand it when
he made such suggestions, as if he was ignoring the fact that she was an owner of a business, and
that it was a very demanding career.
“You know I can’t do that,” she said gently.
Heron continued to stare at her for a long moment. Then he reached out and pulled her
into his arms and gave her a long kiss. When he ended it, he leaned his forehead against hers, his
eyes closed, his arms holding her tightly to him.
Riley reached in her purse, pulled out a white linen handkerchief. Heron opened his eyes
and watched her as she wiped his mouth of her lipstick. She put the handkerchief in the breast
pocket of his suit, letting the folded corner peak out of it.
Later in the day, in a three hour meeting with his father, brother, and board members,
Heron’s mind began to wander as the other’s began an intense discussion of transferring a large
block of United States bonds to overseas currency. Riley would be up in Santa Rosa by now, he
thought, looking at his watch. He wondered if she had gone back to bed once she was in her
home and was sleeping now, or if she was in her office at the bar. He lifted his hand and felt the
corner of her linen handkerchief in his breast pocket. He pulled it out and opened it and stared at
the red lipstick smear on the white cloth. And the corners of his lips turned up slightly as he
remembered her wiping his mouth with it after their passionate kiss.
Roy’s voice reached him down the long table. “Heron, are you still with us?”
Heron turned his eyes blindly to his father, the faraway gaze still in the dark depths.
“What?”
“What are you doing staring at that handkerchief for?” Roy demanded.
For a few seconds, Heron could only stare blankly at his father. From across the
conference table, Tanner almost burst out into a laugh. It was the first time he had ever seen his
brother at a complete loss for words in a business setting, especially in a boardroom setting,
where the demands of attention and clarity were intense.
Then Heron seemed to come to, folded the handkerchief and put it in his pants pocket. He
reached in his briefcase and pulled out folder, and said with smooth coolness, “I have the latest
Federal Treasury report on the bonds.”
Heron told Riley that he wanted her to accompany him to a Sotheby auction that was
being held in the city. It was an exclusive event that was coordinated by the auction house with
their New York, London, and Paris offices, offering items ranging from art, jewelry, and antique
furniture. There was no item that had a beginning bidding price under one hundred thousand
dollars. Only the wealthy and major art houses and museums were to attend.
“Why would I want to go to that?” Riley asked.
“You are my mistress,” he pointed out coolly.
She looked at him with surprise. “You want to show me off?”
“That’s what mistresses are for, aren’t they?” he said with some irritation. He seemed a
bit peeved that she should ask him the question, as if he thought she should know the rules
without being told.
“Sure, but only with beautiful women, like my sister.”
“You’re attractive.”
“Sure, but I’m know I’m not beautiful.”
Heron studied her for a moment. “You must know that men find you extremely
attractive.”
“They find me sexually attractive. But I never thought that I was the type to be used to
dress up a man’s arm in public. Besides, I know you have a score of beautiful women that you
can choose from to take as window dressing out in public.”
“Why should I call up one of them, when I don’t happen to be seeing them? I’m currently
seeing you. And I want you to go with me to Sotheby’s.”
Riley opened her mouth, about to refuse. Then she thought, why not? She was his
mistress for the time being. It might be fun to play the part in public for one time, dress up, be
amongst the filthy rich, see some incredible art and antiques that would never be shown to the
public, and having all the other rich, society people gaze at her and speculate who the mysterious
woman was.
“Alright. It might be fun,” she said carelessly. She saw him watching her speculatively.
“What?”
Heron just shook his head as if to say whatever he was thinking was not all that
important.
Privately, he couldn’t really explain why he was deliberating over her answer. She had
given the one he had demanded of her. But he knew that it wasn’t because she wanted to please
him in any way. She was agreeing to go with him more to please herself, because she was at that
moment game to try a new experience.
He realized that he himself might be having some misgivings about their casual
arrangement, because he was experiencing conflicting points of view of it. On the one hand, he
would say that Riley might be viewed as the worst of mistresses. She refused to cater to the man,
not bothering to stroke his ego with flattery and adoration. She did not submit herself to be at his
beck and call. And she kept to her own schedule and only saw him when it was convenient for
her. On the other hand, other men might view Riley as the ideal mistress. With her, a man had all
the benefits of a purely sexual relationship and none of the headaches that usually accompanied
such an affair. When they did come together, sex between them lasted hours and was volcanic.
But Riley was not at all demanding of the man, for his attention, his time, or expect any gestures
of affections. She made a good living on her own, so she did not become dependent on him, and
was even more easy on the pocket book, because she did not expect to be showered with
expensive gifts.
Heron did not know why it should be so, but he felt a little uneasy about the casualness of
their relationship when their sex was so intensely erotic. He did not care for the fact that his need
for Riley was not as careless as was the arrangement of their relationship.
“Why do you want me to wear,” Riley suddenly asked, breaking into his thoughts.
He frowned for a moment. Then he realized she was talking about Sotheby’s auction.
“Whatever you want to wear.”
She had her tongue in her cheek, her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Well, if I’m going to
play the mistress of a wealthy man like you out in public at such a high-brow soiree, then I think
I should look the part, shouldn’t I? And, why not? You’re my Sugar Daddy and I’m your pet.”
“Except that I don’t spend a lot of money on you, and you’re not exactly as devoted as
normal pets are to their masters.”
“So, for that night, we’ll both play our proper roles. That means I need a new dress and
some outrageously expensive jewelry.”
“And you want me to buy those for you?”
“The dress I can buy. I can always wear it at work. Now, the jewelry is another story. I
need something big and flashy, like a five carat diamond.”
Heron drew his brows again. “So, now you want me to spend money on you, where,
before, you refused anything I offered you.”
“You don’t have to buy the jewelry. We can rent it for the night. A lot of the stores do
that now.”
He paused. “It’s yours if you decide you want to keep it after the evening.”
Riley made a face at him. “What would I do with a five carat diamond?”
The night of the auction, she got ready at the penthouse. When she came down the stairs,
she was wearing a slinky silver satin dress that had a long train behind her. Over her dress to
fight the winter chill, from her shoulder to her thighs, she was wrapped around in a large black
shawl of light wool knit, the shawl trimmed all around the edge with silver beaded fringes.
Around her neck was a collar cuff with six strands of diamonds set in platinum. Her thick curtain
of dark curls was piled on top of her head with jeweled combs and pins.
“Very nice,” Heron said as he watched her walk towards him, his eyes cool, assessing.
“Thanks.”
Tonight, Riley thought he seemed more unemotional than usual, detached, perhaps even a
little impatient. Automatically, she thought she might have done something to displease him or
that there was something about her that was not to his liking. Then she firmly pushed the self
doubts away as she followed him outside to the car. Heron was the one who insisted that she
accompany him to the exclusive auction tonight. If he had second thoughts or wasn’t too
desirous of her company tonight, than it was up to him to tell her so.
The auction was held at the newly renovated De Young Museum as part of their grand
opening. As she and Heron walked up the stairs to the entrance, Riley recognized a few
prominent businessmen and politicians and handful of famous entertainers. Even the Governor of
California showed up with his famous wife. There were many guests who gave Heron greetings.
Heron’s return greeting was mostly with a curt, dismissive nod.
At the entrance, Heron gave the attendant his coat and Riley her wool shawl wrap. As she
walked further into the foyer, she examined the ceiling, trying to remember how it was the few
times she had been at the museum a few years ago. Heron was about to catch up with her, then
he stopped when he saw the back of her black dress. Riley’s small slender back was completely
bare, the back line of the dress dipping low to almost her buttocks, falling into gracefully arching
folds, so that the beginning flare of her hips was revealed. If the six-strand diamond choker was
stunning from the front, the jewelry was astonishing at the back. One long line of strand of
diamonds fell down Riley’s spine, each diamond at least one-half a carat, to her waist, where a
very large tear-drop diamond hung at the end of the one strand. This was, apparently, her fivecarat diamond.
Without realizing it, Heron murmured, “Jesus Christ!”
Riley turned to face him. “What?” She saw the stunned look on his face and knew he had
seen her back. “Oh. –Is it too much?”
With her facing him, he examined the front of the dress. It would have been demure with
its simple neckline if it’s malleable silk did not mold her large, full breasts, including her large,
erect nipples, making it obvious she wore no bra underneath.
“Would it have mattered,” he said a little testily.
Riley gave a small moue with her lips. “I guess not.” Her eyes turned mocking. “I want
these other guests to know just how generous you are with me?”
Heron didn’t say a word but entered the reception hall and Riley was forced to follow
him, and sighed a little as she did. It looked like it was going to be a long night.
The reception was to last an hour to two hours with champagne served, a must because it
gave the guests opportunity to reacquaint themselves to each other, although most were known to
one another. Since members were very wealthy, it was a small social group and non-inclusive
unless you had several million dollars that you needed to stash in some foreign country or needed
advice on buying a yacht. Such events as the auction allowed members of the group to observe
newcomers, to get the latest news or gossips, to see a tycoon’s or playboy’s latest mistress, or
hear tidbits about an old rich patriarch or matriarch who had passed away.
In the hall where the reception was held, Heron left Riley pretty much alone, falling into
a conversation with a group of lawyers and businessman he worked with. Not knowing what to
do, feeling completely out of place amongst the monied crowd, she slowly made her way around
the wall of pictures, sipping her champagne. Some of the men discreetly eyed her, but the
women ignored her. They did not recognize her as a member of some prominent family, and she
did not seem to have the air of one who was used to wealth and ease. Most suspected that she
was the mistress of a male guest who had brought Riley along as window dressing.
At the end of the line of pictures, leaning against the wall was a young man, goodlooking in a black tuxedo. He looked to be no more than in his early twenties, tall with athletic
build, very blue eyes, soft-full bodied lips, and streaked dark blond hair. He wore an expression
of youthful boredom, reminding Riley of some child who was forced to go to a grownups’ party
where there were no other kids to play with.
“Well, here is another stray cat,” Riley said. “Are you here alone?”
The man shook his head, his lips sulky. He extended his arm and pointed at the crowd.
Riley followed the line of his arm and guessed that he was pointing at a woman who looked to be
in her forties, bleached blonde hair that was well-coiffed, colored warmly from a tanning salon,
thin as a rail that her simple-form Donna Karan showed off unflatteringly, and heavy diamond
and sapphire necklaces and bracelet.
“Is that your mother,” Riley asked.
The man looked at her coldly. “No. That’s a friend.”
It took Riley a few seconds to understand the meaning of his words. “Oh, so you’re like
me. We’re both here at the favor of our so-called patronage.”
“Who’re you with?”
Riley pointed across the room where Heron appeared to be in deep conversation with his
colleagues.
“Who’s he?” the man asked.
“Heron Wait.”
He looked at Heron and shrugged. “Is he rich?”
“Very.”
The man looked at her diamond collar. “Did he buy you that?”
Riley was about to say yes, because, after all, she was supposed to play her role properly
for tonight. But she felt some kind of fellowship with this young man whose time, like hers, was
in the hands of another.
“No. It’s a rental.”
“Geez. So, what, he’s too much of a bastard to buy it for you?”
“No. He offered, but I don’t want it.”
The man frowned. “You mean you don’t care about his money?”
“Not really.”
He shook his head. “Man, dig that, a woman who doesn’t care for a rich boyfriend’s
money.”
“So, is that why you’re with your friend?” Riley asked.
He looked at her blankly for a moment. “Yeah.”
“Surely a young, good-looking guy like you can do better than that?”
He shrugged. “Yeah, but, I’m a college student, and my parents don’t have a lot of
dough. This friend of mine used to do it while he was in medical school, go out with all these
rich, older women. He’s now a resident and doesn’t have any school loans to worry once he’s
finished.”