City of Sin (17 page)

Mason

I looked down at the girl's head on my chest.
Bee.
Shit.
I rarely ever spent the night. And I definitely never spent the night after not
even having sex. We had made out a lot. But mostly, we had just talked all
night. And laughed. She was so down to earth. So much different than the other
women I had been meeting in the city. I ran my fingers through her long hair. I
thought I was lying when I said it was more than just physical. But I wasn't. I
was falling for this girl. She stirred and sighed against my chest.
Shit.

I unwound her arms from around me and pulled my hand free
from underneath of her. I tried not to make the bed move as I climbed off it. I
stared down at her as I buttoned up my shirt. We must have fallen asleep
talking.
What the hell is wrong with me?
This girl had crawled under my
skin.

I needed to get out of there. I grabbed my suit coat and tie
and headed to the door. My hand lingered on the knob. I turned back around. She
was sleeping so peacefully. I couldn't just leave. She'd wonder where I had
gone.

She rolled over in bed and reached out her arm where I had
once been. She moaned softly, but didn't open her eyes. I didn't want her to
think I was just going to abandon her once I was done with her. But isn't that
the plan? I shook away the thought and walked back over to her bed. There was a
notebook and a pen on her nightstand. I'd leave her a note, inviting her over
to my place tonight.

The past week didn't matter and neither did the future. All
that mattered was tonight. Finally claiming her. And if I could focus on that,
and not the tightness in my chest, maybe I could get a grip. I was just messed
up from not having sex in a week. The last time I had cum was in her mouth in
that alleyway.

I lifted up the notebook and flipped to a random page. There
were a few notes scribbled on the page.

Jenkins' pitch - Layla's Predictions - guessing penis size.
Win a sample if she guesses wrong.

I laughed. That sounded like something Jenkins would pitch. I
had heard of Layla's Predictions. Layla Torrez was a sexy weather girl from
Miami. Was that what Kruger was currently working on? It didn't say what
account it was for. But having Layla predict penis size was a pretty wild idea.
How was she even supposed to do that on T.V.? There were scribbles over the
words on the rest of the page. But I was able to make them out.

Idea - Local, guerilla style campaign. Knicks cheerleaders
Central Park performance for selling tickets. Team up - have an actor spray
himself with body spray and have the cheerleaders chase him through Central
Park. Everyone would see it. No one would know if it was real or not. News
stations would inadvertently pick it up. Attention grabbing and cheap.

That was a really good idea. Had she come up with that? I
looked down at her sleeping. Clearly her boss hadn't liked it, or it wouldn't
have been crossed out. I suddenly felt dirty. I shouldn't be reading this
stuff. I flipped through the pages of notes until I came to an empty one. On
the left side were a few more notes. I couldn't help but let my eyes wander
over them.

Idea - Fairytale. Get a box in the mail with a dress and a
note. Get dressed up and picked up for a romantic evening. Everyone loves a
fairytale and the idea of finding your prince.

I smiled to myself and picked up the pen. She must have
written that last night. I was no Prince Charming. But it didn't matter. After
one night with me she'd be hooked. Maybe she already was. Which meant tonight
would just seal the deal.

Bee,

Thanks for an amazing night. You looked absolutely stunning
in that dress. I'm making you dinner tonight at my place. And I believe you
said I didn't need to control myself anymore. So don't worry about what to
wear, because you won't be wearing it for very long. I'll see you at 8.

-Mason

I put down the pen and turned toward the door. The apartment
was dreary. I didn't want her to be in a place like this. It didn't even feel
like her heat was working. I wanted her in my bed, ready for me whenever I
wanted. I picked up the pen again.

P.S. The sleepover is at my place tonight. I can take you to
work in the morning.

I put the pen back down and looked over at her. She looked so
beautiful. She was still wearing the red dress, and it hugged every curve. I
had the urge to kiss her cheek.

What the fuck is wrong with me?!
I ripped the sheet of
paper out of the notebook and placed it on top of it. Without looking back at
her, I went over to the door and quickly left before I did anything else
stupid.

Bee

I yawned and stretched my hand out, but all I felt were empty
sheets. I slowly opened my eyes. Mason was gone. I looked around the small,
empty room.
I can't believe he saw my place.
I can't believe I cried
in front of him.

I put my hands over my face.
God.
I had made such a
mess of last night. Mason had been so fun and flirtatious and I had just fallen
apart when Patrick had shown up. But I was over him. He had asked me for a
second chance. And I didn't agree to it. I didn't want him back. I wanted
Mason.

My apartment was embarrassing. But Mason had acted like he
was at home. He knew I was upset and instead of trying to sleep with me, he had
comforted me. We had talked all night. Technically he had tried to sleep with
me right when I had let him in. But he respected my decision. We just snuggled.
I liked the way his arms felt around me. And now that he was gone it was
freezing.

I climbed out of bed. Luckily whatever fancy, expensive
material the dress was made out of somehow resisted wrinkles, because it still
looked amazing.

My phone buzzed on my nightstand. I went to grab it when I
saw a note with Mason's handwriting. I quickly picked it up.

Bee,

Thanks for an amazing night. You looked absolutely stunning
in that dress. I'm making you dinner tonight at my place. And I believe you
said I didn't need to control myself anymore. So don't worry about what to
wear, because you won't be wearing it for very long. I'll see you at 8.

-Mason

P.S. The sleepover is at my place tonight. I can take you to
work in the morning.

If that wasn't an invitation for sex, I didn't know what was.
My heart starting beating faster.
I'm going to have sex with Mason Caldwell.

I took a deep breath. Was I really going to go have sex with
someone that I only knew for several days?
Yes!

I bit my lip. When had I become one of
those
girls? I
sat down on the edge of my bed. Mason made it seem like it wasn't just about
sex. If sex was all that he was after, then he would have just slept with a
hooker or something. This was more. Last night was more. He seemed to care
about me.

I looked down at my phone. Marie had texted me.

"I heard you scored tickets to the Silver Gala! Tell me
everything!"

I smiled and wrote back. "Yes, Mason had tickets. It was
really amazing."

My phone started buzzing in my hand. I slid my finger across
the screen. "Hi, Marie."

"You are so lucky," she said. "I would give my
left arm to go to that event. Everyone who's everyone goes to that thing."

"It wasn't that big of a deal. I didn't even recognize
anyone beside Mason."

"Bee, it's a huge deal. Do you even know how much
tickets cost for that thing?"

"I don't know. A lot? It was really fancy."

"It's $3,000 a plate. And not just anyone can attend.
It's crazy exclusive. Mason must have it bad for you."

$3000 dollars a plate?
The food was good, but it
wasn't that good. "Why would it be exclusive? It's a charity thing.
Wouldn't anyone who donated be allowed to go?"

"Well, right. But it's anyone who donates a ton of
money. And I mean a ton. Way more than just the cost of the dinner."

"Wow." I looked down at the dress I was wearing.
How much did it cost?

"So, did you meet anyone?" Marie asked.

"I met a few of Mason's friends. And his brother."

"Meeting the family already? That's a big step."

"Mhm." My mind was wandering back to Mason's
parents. They weren't speaking. My mom always used to tell me to find a boy who
treated his mother right. That was how you could tell if they'd treat you well.
If Mason wasn't speaking to his mom, that probably wasn't a great sign.

"Is everything okay with you?" Marie asked.

"Yeah, I just..." my voice trailed off as I looked
down at his note again. What would Marie think of this invitation? I wasn't
going to ask. Because I had already decided to go. It felt like this was an
opportunity of a lifetime. Even if it wasn't going to be a lasting thing, I'd
regret not going.

"You just what?" Marie said.

"It was weird. At the gala, I ran into Patrick."

"How the hell did he get tickets? Did everyone have
tickets to this thing except for me?"

I laughed. "I don't know. I'm sure he didn't buy them
himself if they cost $3000."

"Probably not. So what happened?"

"He was asking why I wasn't willing to give him a second
chance. And I got to say a lot of stuff that I wished I had said before. I
think he might have been trying to get back together with me. But I said no. A
few weeks ago, I probably would have said yes. It was different seeing him this
time though. It was like I was actually seeing him for what he was."

"Does that maybe have anything to do with the guy you
were there with?"

I couldn't help but smile. "Yes. Mason even comforted me
afterward. He came back here and we talked and laughed all night."
And
kissed a lot
. "He's such a sweet guy."

"Really?"

"You sound surprised."

"Oh, no. I mean, I don't know. I can't really picture
Mason doing that. He seems so...macho. I feel like panties drop whenever he
enters a room. I never would have thought someone would describe him as
sweet."

I laughed. "Macho? Well, I think maybe he's softer than
he lets on. Not that he isn't sexy. Because he is...really, really sexy."
I was rambling just thinking about his abs. My words were greeted by silence. I
pulled my phone down to see if the call was still connected. The seconds were
still ticking by. I put the phone back to my ear. "Marie? Are you still
there?"

"Bee, are you falling for him?"

Was I falling for a guy who knew every secret underground
strip club in the city? Was I falling for a guy with a reputation for one night
stands? Was I falling for a guy who had inadvertently ended my engagement?
"I think I am."

Marie squealed into the phone. "Kendra can suck it! I
knew setting you up with him was a good idea."

I laughed. "Yeah, I really owe you one."

"Maybe I should quit my job at Blue and start a
matchmaking service."

"Maybe you should."

"I'm sure Carter would love that. You should call Kendra
and tell her that you're in love with Mason and that she was completely
wrong."

"I'm not going to do that. You just love being right
about stuff. I'm sure you're going to call her as soon as we hang up
anyway."

"You're right. I am."

"And I never said I was in love with him." I was
falling for Mason Caldwell. But I wasn't in love with him. I couldn't be in
love with him. I wasn't ready to be in love again.

"Right again. You didn't. But Kendra doesn't need to
know all the details. I'm going to call her now. Bye, Bee!"

"Bye, Marie." I was pretty sure Marie had hung up
before I had even said goodbye. I looked down at the note Mason had left me. I
couldn't be in love again. Because I wasn't ready to be hurt again. And Mason
was the type of guy who didn't stick around for long. I needed to remind myself
of that. If I allowed my head to catch up with my heart, then I'd be back at
square one, alone in this horrible city. That was what love always led to. I
just wished I was better at compartmentalizing.

***

My mind had flitted back and forth all day. But here I was,
standing in front of the veranda with Trump International Hotel And Tower
written in huge gold lettering. I felt like I had been standing still ever
since I had given the ring back to Patrick. Mason made me feel like moving
again. And if tonight was going to be the last time I saw him, I was going to
take advantage of it. I was going to spend the night in a hotel that I would
never be able to afford to come back to, with a man that was way out of my
league. And I was going to sleep with him. Because I was an adult. And that's
what adults did.

Sleep with rich men for one night? Slut!
I shook the
thought away. I refused to stand still anymore. I wanted to live again. I
walked up the stone steps.

"Good evening, ma'am." The doorman said as he
opened it.

I had spent so much time standing still that I had become a
ma'am instead of a miss. "Good evening," I said and walked into the
building. The entrance was breathtaking. The floor was marble. And all the
walls were adorned with mirrors with gold accents. I instantly felt out of
place in my worn wool coat and boots that were knock offs of Steve Madden. And
where was I supposed to go? I pulled out my phone.

"Can I help you, ma'am?" The man at the front desk
asked.

I should have called Mason while I was still outside. This
was awkward. I put my phone back in my pocket and walked up to the front desk.
"Hi, sorry, yes. I have plans with Mason Caldwell. Dinner plans. Nothing
weird. He lives here somewhere. In the building. Not the hotel part. The condo
part I think? I just don't know what room his is."
What the hell was
that? Does he know I'm here for sex?

"You're here for Mr. Caldwell?"

"Yes?"
Why did I just say that as a question?
"Yes, I'm here for Mr. Caldwell."

The man frowned. "One moment please." He lifted up
the phone and pressed a few numbers. "Mr. Caldwell, there is a young woman
at the front desk who is here to see you." There was a pause before he
continued. "She doesn't seem like the normal..." He had clearly been
cut off. "Oh." He cleared his throat. "Sorry. Very well, sir.
Have a good evening."

I didn't seem like the normal what? Women he usually
dated?
I probably wasn't. Mason was rich and I was just me.

"Sorry for the confusion, ma'am. I will need to see your
I.D., though."

I wanted to ask why. But I didn't want to seem out of place.
Maybe visitors always had to show their I.D.'s at fancy places. I pulled my
driver's license out of my purse. It still said I lived in Delaware. I hadn't
taken the time to switch everything over yet.

"Bridget Cowan?"

"Yes, that's me."

"Very well." He hit a bell on the front desk and a
bellboy magically appeared. Magically because I hadn't seen him before and
there didn't seem to be any doors nearby. "Adam will take you up to Mr.
Caldwell." He handed me my driver's license back. "Sorry again about
the confusion."

"What exactly was the confusion?"

"Nothing, ma'am. Have a good evening." He looked
away from me, even though I was standing right there.
Oh my God, did he
think I was a prostitute?

I quickly walked over to Adam who was waiting by the
elevator. When we stepped on there was actually elevator music. Like in all the
old movies I used to watch with my mom. But I wasn't really focused on the
ornate details. I turned toward Adam. "What kind of women does Mr.
Caldwell usually entertain?"

Adam turned away from me. "Mr. Caldwell doesn't usually
entertain."

I laughed.

Adam looked uncomfortable. He probably hadn't lied. The women
that came to Mason probably entertained him, not the other way around.

"How often does he have visitors?" I asked.

"I don't know, ma'am. I'm only part-time."

"I see. Who was the last visitor that you escorted up to
see him?"

Adam seemed relieved. "His brother came over a week or
so ago."

"Oh." Mason had told me he hadn't gone to any of
those clubs or anything since we had met. So maybe that meant no late night
visitors too. Maybe the guy at the front desk just thought I didn't look like a
normal guest at Trump International. It really seemed like he thought I didn't
look like one of Mason's normal hookers though.

But it didn't matter either way. I wasn't going to get in my
own head tonight. It was time I enjoyed myself. This was what single people
did. Especially single girls who really wanted to start dating the man they
were about to see.
Stop it.