Betrayal (11 page)

“Sasha, this is my good friend Preston,” he said, purposely omitting Preston’s lofty title, immediately putting them on a first-name basis.

She walked over to Preston, and smooched him on each cheek, French style. With her mouth close to his ear, she said softly,
“Bonjour
, Preston.”

Her French accent made the hairs on the back of his neck stand at attention. “Uh, hi,” he said nervously. She was standing so close that he could smell her hypnotic perfume, which was no doubt French. He instinctively took a deep whiff, and inhaled the sexy scent.
I see why Laird wanted to stay
. This woman was intoxicating, which was ironic, since she was a wine expert.

Sasha walked back over to Laird. “Shall I choose a bottle for you two?”

“Oui. Merci
, Sasha.”

“You are more than welcome. I’ll send over your waitress,” she said, brushing Laird’s cheek with another kiss before she sashayed away.

“Man.” Preston did a slow whistle. “She’s exquisite. Now I see why you wanted to stay.” Preston wasn’t a committed hound like his friend, but he appreciated a good-looking woman, nonetheless.

“Yes, Sasha is indeed beautiful, but she’s not the reason we’re staying.” He smirked.

Preston naturally thought that Laird was referring to the food. He knew that a good French chef could make magic in the kitchen with gastronomical creations such as bouillabaisse, beef bourguignonne, and chicken
cordon bleu
. “Is the food that good?”

“It’s mouth-watering,
especially
the appetizers.”

“Bonjour
, gentlemen,” said not one, but two beautiful waitresses.
They looked like identical twins. They were as tall and thin as models with faces fit to grace the cover of
Vogue
. They wore short, tight ivory skirts, and burgundy bustiers, the exact same color as the decor. “Would you gentlemen like an appetizer?” they asked in unison.

“Yes, we would,” Laird answered for the both of them.

Instead of spouting off a list of specials, the women kneeled down, lifted up the linen cloth, and disappeared underneath the table. Preston looked at Laird, and was getting ready to ask what they were doing, but before he could open his mouth, the zipper on his pants was being zipped down.

Laird noticed the shocked expression on Preston’s face.
“Now
you’ll understand why I wanted to stay,” he said.

Preston was speechless. It suddenly hit him why the tables were so tall—to allow the waitress easy access, and to conceal your business from the rest of the guests. He didn’t know what to say. He sat speechless as the waitress took his dick out of his boxers and began to lick the shaft. He wanted to tell her to stop, but the sensation felt too good. Now that his schedule had eased up, his libido had returned with a vengeance, and he couldn’t get enough sex. His limp dick came to life. She began kissing the swollen head, and then slipped the length of him into her mouth. She sucked long and hard, until he was on the verge of coming. He tried to pull out, but she held on to the base of his dick, and wouldn’t release it. She kept sucking, as if she were forcing him to come in her mouth. After trying to resist the urge to cum, Preston couldn’t hold back any longer, and exploded down her throat. Once she had finished her business, she cleaned his cock with a napkin, tucked the dick back in his pants, and came out from underneath the table.

“How was your appetizer?” she asked, smiling coyly.

“Uh, uh,” he stammered. Preston didn’t know what to say. He had never cheated on Ariel, and felt a twinge of guilt creep up his spine. “It was uh, nice. Thank you.”
Nice
, Preston said to himself; he couldn’t believe that he had just described one of the best blow jobs he’d ever had as
nice
.

“You’re more than welcome, monsieur.”

Once her twin resurfaced, the women walked away like they had just served a basketful of mussels, instead of serving up BJ’s.

“That’s
why I wanted to stay.” Laird smiled big, nearly showing all thirty-two teeth. “Like the name of the restaurant implies, everyone here is definitely at your service.”

“I wish you would have warned me,” Preston said, ready to chastise his friend.

“If I had told you what was going to happen, you wouldn’t have come.”

“You’re right about that! I’m a married man, and have never cheated on my wife, unlike some people,” he said, pinning Laird with a knowing look.

“Preston, you’re too uptight; you need to loosen up. Ninety-nine point nine percent of married couples cheat, men and
women
. And if it makes you feel any better, a blow job isn’t exactly cheating; it’s not like you fucked her,” he said, justifying their lewd act.

Laird was right, but Preston felt guilty anyway. He shook his head. “Man, you’re something else.”

“What can I say? I love sex, and not necessarily with my wife.”

“Well, my wife and I have a very healthy love life. And, just so you know, this will be my last time coming here. I don’t intend to get into a
situation
that I can’t get out of. Ariel and I are both committed to our marriage, and I plan to keep it that way. So as far as I’m concerned this incident tonight never happened, if you know what I mean.” He gave Laird a serious look.

“Don’t worry, tonight never happened.”

“Good. Now let’s order,” Preston said, eager to put the naughty blow job out of his mind.

ARIEL WAS
so glad to be back in New York that she happily walked the twenty blocks from the firm’s corporate condo on Central Park West to Meri’s penthouse on Park Avenue. The sidewalk was bustling with hordes of people rushing to and fro, and she increased her step to keep up with their hectic pace. New York was such a pedestrian city, and walking was the preferred mode of transportation, especially during rush hour, when midtown traffic was backed up for blocks.

As she made her way up Fifth Avenue, she said hello to some of her old friends—Cartier, Takashimaya, Van Cleef & Arpels, and Bergdorf Goodman. Seeing the luxury purveyors lined up on the avenue made her feel like she was finally home, since most of the stores were New York staples. Ariel had had a Bergdorf’s charge since she graduated from law school. She was in a good mood and decided to stop in the store and buy herself and Meri a gift du jour.

Ariel knew the layout of Bergdorf’s like her very own house, and went directly to the counter that carried luxurious scarves. A scarf was a safe gift, since size wasn’t an issue and you could wear the silk ones year-round. She stood over the counter, peered down into the case, and spotted a multicolored beauty.

“Good afternoon, Ms., can I show you something?” asked the sales associate.

“Yes, I’d like to see that one,” she said, pointing to the scarf she wanted.

The sales associate took out the oblong silk scarf and spread it across the counter. “This is a Loro Piana and it just came in yesterday.”

Ariel fingered the smooth material, and loved the feel of the soft silk. The black, purple, and aqua combination with black fringes on the ends was perfect for Meri. It was sassy, yet classy, just like her friend. For herself, she chose a Renato Balestra turquoise and coral double chiffon scarf. “I’ll take these two,” she told the woman.

“Will that be cash or charge?”

Ariel handed over the plastic. “Can you gift wrap them?” “Sure. Is the house wrapping okay?” “That’ll be fine.”

Once the gifts were paid for, wrapped and packaged, Ariel bounced out of the store with the shopping bag in hand, and made her way to Meri’s penthouse. Nearly twenty minutes later, she was finally at her destination.

“Hi, Frank, how have you been?” she asked the doorman.

“I’m good, Ms. Vaughn. I haven’t seen you in a long time; where have you been hiding?” he asked, smiling.

“Actually, it’s Mrs. Vaughn Hendricks now. I’ve gotten married and moved to Washington. I’ve been back a few times, but you must have been on vacation, because someone else was at the desk.” Unlike some of the snooty east side doormen, Frank was pleasant, and he and Ariel had built a friendly rapport over the years.

“Congratulations, that’s great news!” he said, giving her a hug. “You can go on up. Ms. Renick is expecting you.”

“Thanks, Frank. I’ll see you later.”

When Ariel arrived at Meri’s floor, she walked down the plush hallway, which resembled an upscale boutique hotel, with its ivory and silver foil designer wallpaper, and plush gray carpeting. She couldn’t believe how much she had missed coming over to her friend’s
house for their chats over lunch and cocktails. It was late in the day, so instead of lunch, Meri’s chef, Jacques, was whipping up a gourmet meal for a long, relaxing dinner. The door was ajar, which wasn’t unusual when Meri was expecting company. Ariel walked right in. “Hey there. I’m here. Where are you?” she called out.

“Hello, daarling. I’ll be right out. Fix yourself a drink,” Meri said, her voice coming from the bedroom area.

Ariel set the shopping bag on the sofa, and went over to the beveled-mirrored bar on the far wall of the living room. Meri’s bar was fully stocked with top shelf vodka, scotch, rum, tequila, and various other liquors. There was even a mini–subzero refrigerator filled with Veuve Clicquot rosé, Dom Pérignon, Cristal, and various other champagnes. She felt like celebrating. She was back in her hometown, getting ready to have dinner with her dear friend, and best of all, she had an ironclad plan to keep her marriage from falling apart, once Preston regained his memory. Ariel took two chilled flutes from the fridge, brought them along with a bottle of Gosset Grande Réserve over to the sofa, and set them on the cocktail table. She poured a flute full, took a sip of the exquisite champagne, and relaxed back onto the sofa cushions.

“What are we celebrating this evening?” Meri asked, entering the room.

“Being back in my hometown,” Ariel said, taking another sip. She looked up and asked, “Where are your clothes?”

Meri was wearing a long, floor-length chocolate brown robe with ivory mink around the collar and cuffs, and matching fur-puff high-heeled slippers. “In the closet,” she said casually as she took a seat next to Ariel on the sofa.

“And why are they in the closet? You knew I was coming over,” Ariel said, slightly annoyed.

“I knew you were coming over, but Paul surprised me with an afternoon visit, and after we ate lunch, he ate me out, and then I took him into the bedroom and fucked his brains out. I swear that man has a perpetual hard-on. He can keep his dick erect for hours, and you know one thing I can’t turn down is a stiff one! We were fucking
like Energizer Bunnies and time got away from us. He’s asleep now, getting ready for our all-nighter,” Meri said matter-of-factly.

Ariel had known Meri for years, but it still surprised her how free Meri was with the details of her sex life. She had no sexual inhibitions like some women. She was extremely liberated and wasn’t shy when it came to discussing her many lovers. “Meri, you’re one of a kind.” Ariel laughed. “Do you want me to leave so that you can get back to your
business?”
she asked, raising her eyebrow.

“No, no; he’s in there snoring. I worked him over good, so good in fact that he’s sleeping like a drunken truck driver. Besides, I need a few hours to do my Kegel exercises to tighten up again,” she said, pouring herself a glass of champagne.

“T.M.I,” Ariel said, putting her hand in the air. “Meri, that’s just too much information. I don’t need to know that you’ll be flexing your vaginal muscles while we’re having dinner.”

“Oops, sorry,” she said, putting her hand to her mouth after the fact. Meri looked at the shopping bag on the sofa. “Somebody’s been to Bergy Goody.”

“I stopped in Bergdorf’s on the way here, and bought us a little treat.” Ariel reached into the bag, took out the gift-wrapped scarf, and gave it to Meri.

A wide grin spread across Meri’s face, like a kid opening a present Christmas morning, as she unwrapped the box. “Daarling, this is beautiful,” she said, wrapping the scarf around her neck. She leaned over and hugged Ariel. “Thank you so much!”

“You’re very welcome. I’m glad you like it.”

“I do, I do.” She smiled. “So, daarling, what’s been going on in our nation’s capital? Any good gossip?”

“I don’t have any gossip, but I do have some news.”

“Really?” She took a sip of champagne. “Do tell.”

“I had a run-in with Michele the day I left town.”

“Oh?” She raised her eyebrow. “What happened?”

“It all started when I asked her to help me with my luggage, and the next thing you know, she’s talking about telling Preston about me and Trey.” Ariel then explained what transpired between them.

Meri looked concerned. “So basically, she threatened you. Do you think it was wise to leave Washington while she’s on the warpath? Maybe you should’ve stayed to keep an eye on her, and keep the young hussy in her place.”

“I’m not worried. I set the wench straight. She knows better than to tell Preston anything. As long as he has no memory of what happened, it’ll be my word against hers,” she said confidently.

“For your sake, I hope you’re right. To be on the safe side, I think you should have a conversation with Trey while you’re in town to make sure he’s on the same page as you. And the sooner the better. You should always be two steps ahead of Ms. Michele. She’s a clever one, so you’ll have to be three times as smart,” Meri said, dispensing a dose of wisdom. She was older than Ariel, and had experienced her fair share of relationship crises in her lifetime, so she was well versed in dealing with drama.