Slave to Love (11 page)

“I’m a guest today,” I laugh.

“I’m just a working stiff. POTUS is mine today.” Jeff Garber will always be a brother no matter how many miles or years separate us. Two missions together, one to Afghanistan, the other to Syria and there was never a better wingman. “Smitty’s here too. He’s got Clinton. We’ll get you back there to say hello. Damn, it’s good to see you, bro.”

Jeff’s focus shifts to my left, “Well hello, Ariel.” Garber is a big, good looking guy and when he sets his sights on a pretty lady, he’s known to close the deal.

“Ariel?” she laughs.

I look down and he’s talking to Sierra.

“Yeah, the Little Mermaid.” He points to Sierra’s necklace.

Laughing, “Ah okay.” She finally gets it.

“Sierra, this big lug here is Jeff Garber.” He needs to know she’s with me and I softly touch her shoulder.

“Okay, I see you’ve already got a bodyguard, so I can’t offer my services.”

Sierra looks from Jeff to me, clearly confused by the conversation.

“Jeff and I did two tours overseas together,” I explain.

“You’ve got the best guy here in the world to protect you,” he informs her.

“Oh really.” Sierra looks surprised.

“He’ll keep you safe,” he reassures her.

Sierra looks at me questioningly. I just smile and shrug my shoulders. I know she hasn’t always felt very safe around me, so this really is ironic. With what I’ve been feeling for her being so far out of the safety zone, she probably does need a bodyguard to protect her from what I’d like to do to her.

Looking down at the thin white silk tank, I can’t get the image out of my mind from just a few hours ago of what she looked like in that white ribbed tank and sweats. I wanted to pick her up and walk her back into that room, throw her onto her back on the bed and start sucking and biting those gorgeous nipples right through her tank top before lifting the wet shirt and feasting on them.

I am obsessed with her nipples. I’m an ass man. But I am totally obsessed with Sierra Stones’ nipples and the need to suck them and hear her moan underneath me and to find out how wet that makes her.

“Hey, let’s get you back there to say hello to Smitty.” Garber pulls me from the abyss, which is good, because I’ve already got a semi from that little interlude.

“I haven’t seen him in at least three years,” I comment, trying hard to bring myself fully back from that visual.

Speaking into his right cuff, “Need coverage at four.” A moment later a non-descript man in a dark suit falls in next to Jeff and we’re on the move. Putting a hand lightly on Sierra’s shoulder, I guide her to walk with us. Her look is silently asking me what is going on and I just smile and raise my brows.

“I can’t wait to see the look on his face.” Jeff claps me on the back. We’re approaching the section cordoned off for President Clinton.

As we walk past the line toward the front, the woman behind the table begins to protest, her voice alerting the closest Secret Service agent, who takes one look at us and breaks into a huge smile, “No way.” The shock on his face is priceless. “They’ll let anyone into these things and I thought it was a classy event.”

Smitty and I hug with an affection rarely seen among men. “Dude, what are you doing here?”

“I’m a guest,” I explain.

Smitty nods at Sierra, “Ma’am.”

“Ma’am? Now I feel old. I’m Sierra.” She extends her hand.

“So you’re with this guy?” he inquires, shaking her hand.

“Well, I don’t know that I’m with…” she begins.

Smitty turns to me, “I’m glad. You deserve to be happy.”

A raspy voice interrupts, “You weren’t going to come say hello?”

I catch Sierra’s face and her wide-eyed surprise as President Clinton approaches and I’m enveloped in yet another bear hug.

“Boys, you didn’t tell me we’d be seeing Lundström today.”

“We didn’t know.”

“Mr. President, this is Sierra Stone.” It’s a rush to be able to introduce her to a two-term President who knows me personally.

“Pleasure meeting you, Sierra.” He shakes her hand. “I love that mermaid.”

“Sir, we’re falling behind schedule,” the woman from behind the desk apprises President Clinton.

He actually looks afraid of this woman, “I need to get back to work here. Great to see you again, Hale. I’ve been following that company of yours.” He claps me on the back. “Sierra, nice meeting you.” He’s giving her the full Bill Clinton charm and then looks back at me, “Take good care of her,” he commands.

As we walk out, they make an announcement that the program will soon be starting and to please find our tables. Sierra is quiet as we walk back to the pavilion. Finally, as we’re about to enter, she stops and puts a hand on my arm. “Hale, who are you?”

Shrugging my shoulders, I just smile. I would love to tell her who I am and everything about me. I’d love to confide what’s shaped me, what drives me, what’s happened in my life. I want her to know. And I’ve never wanted anyone to know.

“Seriously, Hale. What was that?”

“You know I’m former military.”

“I know. But what did you do? Most former military do not get that kind of greeting from the Secret Service and former Presidents.”

“I defended this country, Sierra.”

She doesn’t slip her hand in mine, just entwines our pinkie fingers. Smiling at the surprise move, I tighten my pinkie, giving hers a hug.

Leaning down, I whisper in her ear, “Now can I grab your ass?”

She elbows me laughing as we walk through the pavilion toward our table. I know I look like a loon with a huge smile on my face. So far this has been a good day. But all good things must come to an end. As we approach our table, I note there are only two seats left and they are on either side of Catherine.

I give Sierra’s pinkie a final squeeze before disengaging and taking my seat on the other side of Catherine for the remainder of the afternoon and a very fitting and heartfelt salute to the men and women of our armed forces.

Arriving back at the Beverly
Hills Hotel, everyone is milling about in the lobby, still charged from the high of today’s event. A new set of limos are waiting to take each of our clients back home, with the exception of Hale, who is staying at the hotel. I take the opportunity to speak one last time with each of them and thank them for being our guest.

Monica and Beverly have come back to the hotel to see their clients off and I’m still riding on an adrenaline high from the day. The entertainment portion of the program was beyond expectation; the perfect blend of comedians, politicians, singers and actors, but more than anything, being able to participate in giving thanks to our troops has elevated my spirits beyond belief.

After the last guest has left, we retire back into the Polo Lounge, where I vow tonight I will eat.

“Oh my God, I need to talk to you two,” I tell the girls. “I have so much to tell you when we get to my room later.” I can’t wait to tell them all about Hale and the Secret Service and President Clinton.
What the heck did Hale do when he was in the armed services,
I wonder. The greetings he received were mind blowing, like he was some mega-hero.

Settling in at the bar, I order a Manhattan. Desperately, I want to go up to my room and change clothes. I’ve been in the Louboutins since early in the morning and my feet are numb, but I’m going to stay in this outfit as long as I need to, because I know a certain someone loves it. Ugh. I’m pathetic, I know.

“Where is he?” Beverly whispers and I shake my head. “Probably in his room catching up on a whole day’s worth of email.” We’re already on our second drinks and I can feel the effects of the Manhattan. The cherry looks lonely floating in the long stemmed glass.

“Invite him to dinner with us. He’s so cute. Let’s just make a reservation for four. We’ll ditch these other losers.” Monica is looking down the bar at Bob as she speaks.

“Let’s just give him some time to work. The man has a business to run,” I insist.

“Okay fine, but I’m getting something off the bar menu now because I’m not going to let them starve me the way they starved you last night.” Monica scans the menu.

After the third drink, still no sign of Hale. “Okay, I’ll text him.” I acquiesce. “I’m starving.”

Would you like to join a few of us for dinner? We’re down in the Polo Lounge, but we’re going to get out of here.

Twenty minutes later there’s still no response.

“Do you think he fell asleep in his room?”

“I don’t know,” Beverly is getting cranky. “Let’s just get out of here and get dinner.”

I shoot another text to Hale,
Let me know if I can bring you anything.

“I’m a little worried,” I confess when we’re already halfway through dinner and he hasn’t responded. Then I wonder if maybe he got a call from Jeff and Smitty and went out drinking with them. They were all so happy to see one another.

Still, I can’t get him off my mind. Wondering what happened and will I see him tonight. I want to see him tonight. When we walked through that pavilion today with our pinkies entwined, it just felt so intimate, like we were together and that it was our secret.

It isn’t until I’m already in bed that my cell phone buzzes with a text message. Reaching for the phone, I have to read it twice. It was the last thing I expected.

Had to go back to New York. Great event today. Thanks for having me.

And what surprises me even more is my reaction when I begin to sob uncontrollably.

“He just left? That is so weird.” I’m at breakfast with Monica and Beverly on the terrace of my room before leaving for LAX.

“He just left. ‘Great event. Thanks for having me.’ Totally cold.” I’m obsessing over this. This is going to turn into a full blown, formal meeting of The Swale Club.

“Don’t read into it. He could’ve been shooting off a note quickly as the flight attendants were closing the cabin door.” Beverly is trying to be the voice of reason.

“Call Cuntessa,” Monica suggests. “If she’s over at his office today he would’ve totally talked to her about the event. It’s already lunch time there.”

“Okay, what should I call her about?” My mind has gone blank. “Oh, I know, I’ll congratulate her on the new business Hale is giving her team.”

Calling her cell, I put my phone on speaker so the girls can hear the conversation.

“Hey,” she squeaks.

“Hey, so what is this shit? Now I have to do all your selling for you so that you can kick my ass in the rankings.”

She laughs, “Kemp called me yesterday morning to tell me. We are already all over that one. Robyn and I are meeting with some of the new people this afternoon to start working on a preliminary scope of work document. I heard that was some event yesterday.”

“Yes, it was amazing. Did Hale tell you about it?”

“No, Kemp did. I haven’t seen Hale. I thought he was still in California with you guys.”

“No, he left yesterday.” I’m trying to act nonchalant, as if that were always the plan.

“And he came back to New York?” Susan is surprised.

“I was under the impression that was where he was going.”

“Robyn, have you seen Hale this morning?” she asks. Robyn must be right next to her.

“No. And I just passed by his office and it’s dark. He’s not here today.”

“Sierra said he came back to New York,” Susan informs her.

“Well, he’s not in the office today. Maybe he’s with that pushy girlfriend of his.”

I look at Monica and Beverly, my mouth hanging open, but make a quick recovery.

Laughing, a laugh I know is forced, but sounds authentic. “Oh no, he’s got a pushy girlfriend?” My tone is saying, give me the scoop, let’s dish on this man.

Susan is telling Robyn, “Sierra is laughing about the pushy girlfriend.”

And in the background we hear Robyn say, “Oh God, yes. He is always running out of here to be with her. She’s got him on a very short leash.”

“Hey, I’ve got another call coming through, I’ll call you guys back.” And I disconnect the call.

“What a fucking douche dog.” I’m so angry and hurt. “So, he thinks he’s allowed to run around without his leash on when he’s in Austin and pee all over my yard. Oh my God, that’s gross.” I sit back in my chair and close my eyes.