Pretty In Ink (5 page)

“It’s not
new
,” I said. “I do purple all the time.”

Riley lifted her nose from the flowers for long enough to produce a tooth-filled smile. 

“Yeah, he’s trouble for sure,” I said sarcastically.

But as I looked around the shop, I believed the exact opposite to be true.

WILSON

I sat at my desk with my chair facing the window. Gazing through the glass out over the city in a dream-like state instead of working had become commonplace for me, and although I realized I needed to work, I felt very little guilt for not doing so. For now at least, it seemed, my focus was far from work. As I watched Andrew’s reflection in the glass, I swiveled my chair toward the door.

“The best place to buy someone clothes online?” I asked.

After a few seconds he appeared in the door opening. “Someone being a woman in, oh, let’s say a size two?”

“Yes,” I said.

“That would be Net-a-Porter dot com, Sir,” he responded. “It’s hyphenated.”

“Come in,” I said. “You may as well guide me through this. It should only take a moment.”

“Jil Sander, Jason Wu, Givenchy, Marc Jacobs, they have it all,” he said as he walked into my office.

Andrew was my assistant, business partner of sorts, and had become a close friend. Most of all, he was a blessing. He was twenty-seven years old, an Ivy League graduate from Columbia, and had majored in Business Management. Luring him to the Midwest took considerable money and quite an imagination on my part, but now that he had been with me for almost four years, I couldn’t imagine being without him. Somewhat of a know-it-all, he was a wealth of information on any subject, life included.

I moved my chair in front of my desk and logged onto the internet. After typing the name into Google and clicking on the link, it took only a few moments to realize although the online store was a top tier place, it was not what I was looking for.

“I was thinking of a more contemporary line,” I said. “Something a little more in tune with her personality.”

He wrinkled his nose slightly. “Neiman Marcus?”

“Let’s try it,” I said as I typed the name into the browser.

“That’s better,” I said as the web site opened.

He walked to my side and peered over my shoulder at the monitor. “Here, click “Lifestyles”, and then “Contemporary”, that should get you to something suitable.”

As Andrew stood at my side assisting me, we chose several outfits, and many individual items. After choosing each article of clothing, a “complete the look” banner opened, displaying suggestions for shoes and purses to complement the purchase. Thirty minutes and almost $22,000 later, I had completed my order and was promised two day shipping to my door.

“Thank you,” I said as I logged off the web site.

He took a step away from my desk and nodded his head once. “Certainly.”

He slowly walked toward the door but there was hesitation in his step. Halfway to the hallway he turned to face me.

“Yes?” I asked.

“She pleases you?”

“Immensely,” I responded.

He pursed his lips and nodded his head. “That’s all a man can hope for.”

“You know, I’ve lived my entire life worrying how my parents were going to react to my each and every move. Every decision I made was preceded by a moment of reflection regarding their anticipated reaction. I’m thirty years old, Andrew, it’s time I live my life for me,” I said.

His mouth curled into a slight smile. “I couldn’t agree more, Sir.”

“One other thing,” I said as he began to walk away.

He paused, turned around, and widened his eyes slightly.

“Certainly,” he said.

“Do you know how to ride a motorcycle?” I asked.

“Can’t say that I do, Sir. Are you interested in learning?” he asked.

“Possibly,” I responded.

“It’s a dangerous hobby, and quite seasonal here, you know. If you’re dead set on it, the Harley dealership has a course, and my understanding is it’s geared toward the beginner,” he said.

“Interesting, I’ll look into it,” I said.

“Anything else?” he asked.

“An artsy place to eat dinner?” I asked.

He tilted his head to the side and furrowed his brow. “Arsty?”

“An
interesting
place. Something different, but I don’t want it to be so loud we can’t speak. Any ideas?” I asked.

“Casting the diet aside for the night?” he asked.

“For the night, yes,” I responded.

He gazed down at the floor for a moment, apparently in deep thought. After a short pause, he glanced upward. “Public at the Brickyard. It’s in Old Town. I suspect you’ll both enjoy it.”

“Thank you,” I said with a nod.

“If she has a sweet tooth, I recommend the bread pudding with ice cream afterward. It’s not on the menu, but always available to those who ask,” he said.

I grinned at the idea of eating donuts for dinner. As my mind wandered to thoughts of her sucking my cock for the jelly donut, I cleared my throat.

“Yes, she has a sweet tooth,” I said with a laugh.

He nodded his head and smiled. “One would never know, she’s rather petite.”

“Anything else?” he asked.

I shrugged my shoulders and shook my head. “Not that I can think of.”

“Very well,” he said as he turned away.

As he disappeared into the hallway, I stood from my seat and quickly called him back.

“One more thing,” I shouted.

Apparently standing at the edge of the door in wait, he leaned into the doorway and smiled.

“Do you think this is a mistake?” I asked as I walked around the edge of my desk.

He shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his pants and walked toward me. Stopping a few feet shy of the front of my desk, he gazed up at the ceiling before shifting his eyes to meet mine.

“Close your eyes and think of the time you have spent with her. After a moment, tell me how you feel when you think of spending time with her again tonight, but do so in one word,” he said.

I closed my eyes and recalled meeting her at the store. Standing and staring out at the rain, she defined beauty. After meeting her, her attitude was immediately apparent, and although a personality like hers would normally cause me to turn away, I couldn’t imagine her being any other way. The combination of her natural beauty and tattoos promptly demanded my attention, and prying my eyes from her soon became impossible. Casting her appearance aside, she had a certain hint of innocence about her which I found to be beautiful in itself. Meeting her at her home before our date made me feel nervous, and seeing her in the black dress was nothing short of breathtaking. Our donut date was something I would never forget, and provided further proof of her innocence.

In summation, Stevie caused me to feel as if I was living life from the beginning again.

I opened my eyes. “Innocent.”

“Pure, simple, incorruptible, and childlike?” Andrew asked.

“Yes,” I responded. “All of those things.”

“Such a woman is priceless,” he responded. “A mistake? I’m afraid not.”

“Thank you,” I said as I sat down.

“Anything else, Sir?” he asked.

“Not that I can think of,” I responded.

“Very well,” he said as he turned away.

After what seemed like an eternity, I glanced at my watch. Somehow, it was still mid-afternoon. It appeared time was standing still, and if the past two days were indicative of how I could expect time to pass with Stevie in my life, she would certainly be the death of me. I turned my chair to the side, stood, and walked into the hallway.

“I’ll be taking the remainder of the afternoon off,” I said as I poked my head into Andrew’s office.

“Very well. I’m close to finished with the quarterly reports, I’ll have them on your desk in the morning,” he said.

“Perfect. I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said as I turned away.

“Enjoy yourself,” he said.

“I’m taking the Porsche to my house and getting a car,” I said over my shoulder.

“Tonight, Sir,” he responded. “Enjoy yourself tonight.”

I hesitated, turned around, and leaned into the doorway again. “One more thing. In your opinion, as an honorable man, how long should one wait for sex?”

I had been in a sexual relationship before, but it was almost ten years prior. My parents set me up with the daughter of one of my father’s wealthy coworkers, and although the time we spent together was filled with sex, she interested me very little as a person. As my parents prepared for a wedding they believed was imminent, I prepared for the life of a bachelor. Our breakup caused my father to question my sexuality and my mother to question my sanity.

Since then, my focus had been work. Excluding my mother, the only woman in my life was a girl from my childhood who I held dear to my heart as nothing more than a friend.

“My only advice in that respect would be to proceed when the time is right. Follow her lead and you’ll never be perceived as being forward,” he said. 

“Thank you, Andrew,” I said.

He nodded his head and grinned. “Anytime, Sir.”

As I walked to the elevator, I considered his response.

Follow her lead.

I like that.

STEVIE

My recent experiences with men were limited to being told what to do, doing it, or dealing with the aftermath if I chose otherwise. Sex was a requirement, but only when my partner wanted, and never when I felt it was necessary. There were rarely meaningful discussions, meals shared, or quality time spent together. I could count on one hand how many times I had been out to eat with my boyfriends, and as far as I could remember, I hadn’t been to a movie with a man since I was in high school.

In two days with Wilson, I had been out to eat twice, seen one movie, and sucked his cock because I wanted to, not because he demanded it.

When he arrived to take me on our date earlier, he gave me a card. Inside were no poems, Hallmark sayings, or funny quotes; only a hand written paragraph describing his feelings of what I provided him.

As he continued to drive through the neighborhood, I didn’t thank God for allowing our paths to cross, wonder what I had done to deserve him, or allow my mind to drift into thoughts of actually having a meaningful relationship with him. Instead, I sat and stared out the window of his car guessing how many days it would be until he transformed into the monster that every other man in my past had eventually become. For me to think for one minute he would be any different would be to cast my experiences and the memories associated with them aside. As far as I was concerned, they were lessons learned. And my past would certainly return as my future unless I learned from it and made adjustments to how I was living my life. Until that day came, however, I wanted to enjoy how Wilson made me feel.

As the car came to a stop inside the garage, I realized I hadn’t even been paying attention to where we had driven. In a slight mental fog, frustrated with how life seemed to always come full circle and eventually drop me off right where I had started, I had allowed the drive to Wilson’s home to go unnoticed.

“Well, here we are,” he said as he turned off the engine. “Are you alright?”

I smiled and nodded my head as I glanced in his direction. Truth be told, I was slightly embarrassed for how I had been feeling, and for thinking the ill thoughts of what I expected was to come from Wilson. He had done nothing to deserve my slight attitude, or be the unknowing recipient of the thoughts which had filled my mind.

He opened the car door and hesitated before he got out. “You were pretty quiet all the way here.”

“Just thinking,” I said over my shoulder as I opened the door.

I stepped from the car and attempted to clear my mind. As I walked around the rear of the vehicle, I noticed not only how large the garage was, but that there were no less than five cars in it, four of which appeared to be BMWs.

“How many cars do you have?” I asked as I peered past him at the line of vehicles.

“Five,” he responded.

“I like the one we drove tonight,” I said.

“It’s similar to yours, only a sedan,” he said. “It has two more doors. Funny when I think about it, I know I’ll never even use them.”

I nodded my head, making note that all of the cars were white, and the Porsche SUV was a dark grey.

“Follow me?” he asked as he walked past the line of cars.

I did just that, watching him walk as I followed him toward the door which I suspected led into the house. His walk was unique, and seemed to be more of a saunter than an actual walk, as if he really didn’t have a care in the world. As I watched his butt wiggle back and forth in his tight jeans, I wondered what I would walk like if I were rich.

Like a sexy rich bitch, I decided.

I followed him through the door, not really knowing what to expect. As I stepped into what appeared to be a very large laundry room, I gazed down the long hallway, eager to see the rest of the home. In an effort to be polite, I reached down to pull off my boots.

“No need to take your shoes off, I’m not going to,” he said.

“I’ll go ahead and take ‘em off. I like sliding around on tile floors and a girl like me doesn’t get chances like this very often,” I said as I pulled against the heels my boots.

“Suit yourself,” he said as he stood and waited.

“Ready,” I said as I sprung to my feet.

He grinned and shook his head as he turned toward the main body of the house. Like an anxious child being led through a theme park for the first time, I followed him to the end of the hallway. As the corridor ended and the house was exposed for me to see, I stood and stared like an idiot.

“Are you coming?” he asked over his shoulder.

“You
live
here?” I asked as I gazed around what I would describe as a mansion.

“I sure do,” he responded. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”

The home was massive, and had higher ceilings than I had ever seen in a house. With an open floor plan and no interior walls to clutter my view, I could see that each large room led into another, and it seemed to never end.

“Alone? You live here alone?” I asked as I looked around at all the furniture.

There were three couches in the living room alone, In the distance, another room, like a smaller living room, had two chairs and another couch. Decorative vases filled with wooden sticks, pieces of steel, and fake flowers were situated around the home. Dozens of pictures hung on the walls. I could see two fireplaces from where I stood, and I imagined I was seeing very little of what the home contained as a whole.

The floors were primarily wood or tile, and although there were rugs everywhere, the majority of the flooring I was able to see was a hard surface of some sort. Standing beside him in my socks and glancing around attempting to absorb my surroundings, my thoughts must have been written all over my face. The fact my jaw was on the floor and my eyes were as wide as saucers probably provided a small clue.

“Yes, I live alone.” He chuckled as he studied me. “Go ahead. I know you want to.”

Without warning or another invitation, I took off through the living room, running as fast as I was able. After reaching top speed, I planted my feet, bent my knees slightly, and slid twenty feet or so along the floor with my arms outstretched. It was the closest I could come to surfing in Kansas.

“Impressive,” he said, his deep voice echoing throughout the home slightly as he spoke.

“It’s like surfing, but in my socks,” I said. “You should try it.”

I knew he wouldn’t, but it was worth the offer. People like Wilson didn’t do the things we lowly common people did. Considering the cleanliness of the place and the arrangement of the furniture and decorative accessories, I doubted he spent much time in the home at all. As I glanced around and planned the path of my next wild dash, Wilson let out a cry like he’d jumped from a cliff.

I turned around in just enough time to see him slide past, rotating in a half-circle as he did so.

As he stood laughing and obviously preparing for another run, I wondered if Wilson was truly different than other men. He sure appeared to be, but there had to be something wrong with him, because no one was as perfect as he seemed to be.

“Come on,” he said as he held his hand out to his side.

“What?” I asked as I reached for his hand.

He cupped my hand in his. “Let’s do it together.”

“For real?” I asked.

He nodded his head. “Ready?”

“Ready,” I said with a nod of my head.

We took off across the floor in our socks, hand in hand, and at the same time, each planted our feet. Together, without falling, or him losing his grip on my hand, we slid across the floor, spinning in a slow circle as we did so, coming to a stop in each other’s arms just before hitting the far wall.

“That was fun,” he said as he fought to catch his breath.

I gazed up into his eyes and studied him. A few strands of his otherwise perfect hair hung down in his face. The slight shadow of a beard let me know he had rushed from his office to pick me up without much time to prepare for the evening. At that moment, to me, he was the perfect man.

“I want you to fuck me,” I said.

His eyes widened and he ran his hand through his hair. “Pardon me?”

I focused on his hazel eyes and shrugged my shoulders. “You heard me. You’re cool as fuck, and I like you. A lot. And I want to fuck. You alright with that?”

He didn’t say a word. Instead, he knelt down slightly, picked me up from my feet, and slowly began walking toward the stairway.

I reached around his neck, interlocked my fingers, and studied his pretty face as he walked up the winding staircase. As he carefully took each step, I looked over each of his shoulders, taking in all of the living space below us. After seeing all there was to see, I closed my eyes. 

And for that moment, Wilson was different than all the rest. And I became a modern day Cinderella.