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Finishing the contract, I attach a note to Sharon that it’s ready to be sent over for signatures. As I do, I see it’s a little after seven. I’m not hiding from Holly, this is work. My cock is hard again at the idea of her in those threadbare tight jeans and the way they clung to her ass. Swallowing hard, I make a call to my building. The front desk tells me she left not long ago. Now I’m ready to go home.
When I walk through the door, I swear. It smells good in here, the lightest tinge of lemon hangs in the air. Nothing is out of place. In the kitchen, I’m thrown by how clean it is. There’s a note on the refrigerator telling me there is a plate for dinner. I open the door to find the plate of food that looks like it came from a restaurant.
Curious, I take it out then follow the instructions. It had been sitting on parchment paper and nothing sticks when I slide it off from the toaster oven. Taking it into the dining room, I taste the salmon, fuck it’s good. I’m curious about the mashed navy beans, I’ve never had them this way, they are damned good. Even the green beans are perfectly seasoned, with a hint of a crunch to them. No way is she a better cook than Cora, this was a one-time thing. I bet she can’t do lasagna this well. My plate clean, I rinse it off then put it into the dishwasher.
No fucking way, is the inside of the dishwasher whiter than the last time I saw it? Where is the scent of cherries coming from? I wonder, as I make my way out of the kitchen. Changing out of my suit, I see she got the dry cleaning and changed out the hangers. I undress down to my boxers before climbing into bed and turn on the television. Ignoring the inner voice wondering why I’m at home in bed when I could be out at the best clubs pussy hunting, or hell, even client hunting.
Fuck, I smell cherries again. On the sheets, it was Holly. I remember a trace of cherries when I shook her hand and felt the sting of attraction to her. Forcing my eyes closed, I fight my cock getting hard at the thought of her in my bed.
This was ridiculous. The day after tomorrow I have an invitation to a party where I will have my choice of women. I’ll find one there to get Holly off my mind. Fine, the place was cleaner, smelled nicer, and the food was better than Cora had done in a few years. She had fucked up my toast this morning, besides, this was only day one.
****
The next morning everything is perfectly timed and tastes exactly the way I like it. It had been on my mind all morning. As I leave I decide not to let it go. “Holly, do you wear some sort of perfume with cherries in it?”
Looking up from the counter she’s wiping, she looks up and nods. “Yes.”
“I want you to stop wearing it.”
She blinks. “Are you allergic to scents or cherries?”
“No, I just don’t want you wearing the cherry stuff.”
“Then, no. I’ll wear the perfume I want.”
I was already in the process of turning away from her to leave. Turning back, I find her with one hand on her hip the other on the counter. “I said no more cherry perfume.”
“It’s not cherry perfume, it’s a layer of scented soap with a body splash. I’ll wear what I want. You bought me as a housekeeper, not a toy to do with as you please. It isn’t even very strong. I don’t understand why you’re making a big deal out of it.”
“I don’t like the scent. I don’t want you wearing it. It’s that simple.”
“That is bullshit, I am barely here. I don’t spray the place in it or anything. Once again, I’m wearing it. Do you need me to buy you a little mask so you can make it through the three hours you spend at home?”
“Or you could wear a real perfume. The kind that doesn’t come from the corner drugstore. Maybe it wouldn’t be so insufferable then. You want to smell like a little girl, it’s up to you.” I’m pissed as fuck, allowing the door to slam behind me. Great, knowing her contrary ass I’ll never stop smelling it.
As my day goes by I can’t forget the damned scent, knowing I’ll have to live with it. The thought makes me reach for the phone, Diana has agreed to be my distraction for the night. She is a beautiful woman who ticks all my boxes, and she smells like a fucking field of flowers, always. For Diana, I’ve gone back twice. I had told myself there wouldn’t be a third. Today, I’m desperate.
This time, I go up to get her myself. Vicci is her preferred place, so I play along, it’s a sushi place—I hate sushi. Thankfully, they also have steak. I order steak and a baked potato, and then settle in to begin the flattery I'll need to get her into my bed.
Diana’s smile is wide, “I have the best news. I’m pregnant!”
A chill chases up my spine. “Congratulations.” The word is weak.
“Don’t look so worried, it isn’t yours. I did the sperm bank route. I’ve wanted to be a mom for years. I know it won’t be easy on my own, which is why I’m moving back to Oklahoma. Far from being scandalized, my parents are ecstatic and want to be involved. I leave in a few weeks.”
There went my diversion for the evening. I say all the right words, I think. The idea of a child has never appealed to me. I’m not inclined to believe the instinct to procreate is in everyone. My parents were far more interested in my father’s career than in me, often leaving me with a revolving nanny until sending me to private military school when I was nine. Then there were the constantly changing locations, during the summer I was allowed to come home, yet still spent little to no time with either one of my parents. I wish her well, as I drop her off at home. Then tell Ricky to take me to the cigar bar where I stay until midnight. When I undress, my jacket is covered in a scent light, sweet, and sophisticated. I’ve done what I set out to do.
****
Jesus fucking Christ, her jeans are a worn second skin and her top is a threadbare tunic. Fuck, I can make out every inch of her bra and the skin below it. I do my best to ignore it, but my fucking cock is an asshole and won’t. Especially when I can look down her top when she sets my plate in front of me.
Anger at her and myself for wanting her force the words out of me as I’m about to leave. “Cora didn’t need a uniform, but maybe you do. Since it seems all you have are tattered jeans and threadbare shirts that show off everything. Or is it a play for attention? Are you looking for a pay-raise already?” Her eyes go wide in horror. Relief fills me. She hasn’t realized her effect on me and wasn’t trying to entice my horny ass.
“Not everyone has the money to buy what comes out every season. I’ll buy new clothes with my first paycheck, so as not to offend you.” She spits out the words.
She’s barely done speaking before I reach into an inner pocket, pulling out my checkbook. “In that case, here’s an advance on your first two weeks. Go shopping and find something that doesn’t cling like a second skin. Something made within the last decade would go a long way.”
I leave the check on the counter and walk away, ignoring the tears gleaming in her sherry eyes.
****
The party is in full swing. At three hours since the party started, I step into the room. Only ten minutes later, I’m bored. I want to leave, except this is for a client I recently helped close on an acquisition to expand her fashion empire. I can’t leave, there’s an expectation for me to see and be seen here. Normally, I’m in my element at a party like this, models are everywhere, all wearing dresses that are next to nothing. Not a single one interests me. I make my way to my client, making the small talk as expected, the woman is teasing and flirting as usual. Then she offers up one model after another, previously, my cock would be rising with anticipation. Now, nothing.
All I can think of, have been thinking about, is making Holly cry. I know I’ve made dozens of women cry before. I’ve watched women cry as they begged for more, more time, another chance. Every time, their tears did nothing, only annoyed me. Now all I want to do is turn back the clock to take back what I said. All day, all damned day, every time I closed my eyes I saw the tears welling up in her eyes. It’s fucking making me nuts, I want to know if Holly is okay. I know the way I can find out, but shy away from it. Amelia reads me too damned well.
A woman slides her arm around my neck, the models are already tall and wearing four and five-inch heels; some of them are taller than my own six foot three. It’s never bothered me before but this woman leaning down around me annoys me. I hold up my phone as I pull away.
Finding a balcony, I hit send. Amelia answers on the third ring. “You are such an asshole, Ethan. I swear. Sometimes you make me ashamed to be your sister.”
“Like I said a damned thing she didn’t know.”
“You are just too damned much sometimes.”
Amelia hangs up on me. Fuck.