SOLO (12 page)

"You've been there?"

"A few times." I reach to rest my arm on the back of the sofa.

She lifts her chin slightly, tilting forward in her seat. "You're full of surprises."

"You have no idea. You have no fucking idea." I close my eyes to ward off the always present memories of my fucked up past. I need to start looking at my future and now is as good a time as any.  "Have dinner with me tomorrow, Libby. Let's try this again."

Libby

"What are the rules?" I feel nervous energy bouncing throughout my entire body. Alec Hughes just asked me out. I want this. I mean I think I want this. I wouldn't even be considering it if he hadn't apologized for what happened in his office.

"Rules?" He's on his feet, smoothing the hem of his suit jacket. "What do you mean?"

I'm confused and I'm sure my expression isn't hiding that at all. "You don't just go on dates with women without rules in place, do you?"

He buttons the jacket stopping to remove a stray piece of lint. "I guess I don't. I haven't actually gone on a lot of dates the past few years."

"Can I ask you something about that?" I lean in closer as if the walls can hear me. "I mean if it's okay to talk about it."

"Talk about what?" His jaw clenches. "What are you asking me about?"

"When you sleep with women, do they always take the gifts you offer to them?" It's been there, right on the edge of my lips waiting for me to ask it. I've never been around a man who treated sex like a business arrangement before.

He takes a step back. I can tell I've offended him. "I treat women well, Libby. I think you've jumped to some incorrect conclusions about me."

"I'm sorry if it sounded as though I was judging you." I want that to sound completely genuine, because it is. We all make our own choices. I'm just trying to understand him more.

He rubs his temple with his left hand. "My life is very busy so I seek out women who are looking for the same thing I am."

"I understand," I say under my breath. I don't really understand. I just want to understand how it impacts my time with him.

"I'm a generous person. If a woman I'm interested in needs something and I have the ability to give it to her, I want to." 

I stare at his face.  It's stoic and emotionless. "I was just curious."

"Libby," he whispers my name quietly into the still air between us. "I don't want you to think so much about this. I want you to enjoy it. We're just two people who are going to go on a date or two."

A date or two? He's right. I'm asking about his moral compass and he just asked me out to dinner. I need to slow things down. "You're right."

"You're not working at the jewelry store tomorrow night, are you?"

"Not tomorrow, no."

He adjusts one of his cufflinks, pulling the sleeve of his dress shirt in line with his jacket. "I'll be here for you at eight."

I follow him to the door, stopping when he turns to look at me. "I'm looking forward to it."

"Me too," he whispers softly against my lips. "I'll see you tomorrow."

***

"This view must be amazing." I stare out the large window towards Central Park.

I hear him behind me before his hand touches my elbow. "When you come back during the day, you'll see for yourself."

I turn to look at him, taking the wine glass that he's holding out for me. I need to pay attention to how much I'm drinking tonight. I don't want a repeat of what happened after we left Axel NY. "I didn't realize we'd be having dinner at your place."

"It's not," he begins before he takes a sip of the wine. "It's not always comfortable going to a restaurant. Sometimes I prefer ordering in."

"If I lived here, I'd never go out." I dip my head. My gaze stops on the simple black dress I'm wearing. I feel so misplaced in such a beautiful space. "This is such a nice condo."

His eyes dart over my face. "I've wanted to ask you something, Libby."

I need reinforcement before I hear this so I take a healthy swallow of the wine. That's all I'll have. It's going to be enough to take the edge off without throwing me into his lap again. "What is it?"

"I know who your father is." His jaw tightens. "I've been wondering why you live in that apartment."

I sigh. It shouldn't surprise me that he's jumped to the assumption that my father is footing the bill for my adventures in New York City. My entire life it's been the same story. I come from money therefore I should have money. "It's all I can afford."

A sly smirk rakes over his mouth. "I know how much your father is worth, Libby. You can afford better."

I push my head back, stretching my neck, trying to rid myself of the tension I feel taking over my shoulders. It's a conversation that was inevitable. I know that people like Alec find it necessary to run background checks on those they spend time with. My father's done the same thing. "My father can afford better. I can't."

"You've lost me. What are you trying to say?"

I try not to smile. It's a foreign concept to him because he's rich. He's grown up with money, just as I did. The difference is that his father gave him the reins of the family business and set him on his own course. "My father doesn't pay my way."

I can see the surprise in his expression although he's trying to mask it by taking another healthy swallow from his glass. "You're surviving in this city on your wage from the musical?"

Irony is rarely a welcome guest. He's questioning how I'm living on the paltry wage he's giving me. "No. That's why I work at the jewelry store. I'm paid in commissions there."

"You have a degree, Libby."

They are a repeat of the words my father said before I left. I'd worked hard for my degree. I finished early and was hungry for the chance to jump into a position within my father's company. "I'm proud of it," I offer.

"Do you plan on using it one day? Are you going to take over your father's business?"

I can't say I'm surprised by the question. It's Alec's life path. I know his history. I know that he's built his father's empire up to what it is today. It's a conglomerate that many in the business world envy. Their vast array of holdings includes everything from Fortune 500 companies to burgeoning start-ups. Alec Hughes is a genius when it comes to business. It's no wonder he'd expect me to be using my degree to chase the same dream he is.

"Am I asking too many questions?" His hand lightly taps my shoulder. "Is this something you'd rather not talk about?"

Avoidance can be a good thing, but in this case it's only prolonging the unavoidable. I sense that if I don't tell Alec how I ended up as a glorified extra in his musical that he'll send someone out to hunt down the information. He may as well hear it from me. "We can talk about it."

"Over dinner." He gestures towards a dining table. "You can explain everything to me."

Alec

I'll never understand men like Jensen Duncan. They have a brilliant, bright, eager daughter and they pass her over for a lazy son who has absolutely no ambition. I can't complain about it too much. Her father's reluctance to give her a position of power brought Libby to New York City. Now, she's sitting in my condo eating dinner. I should thank her father for that.

"Have you lived here long?" She places the fork down on the edge of the plate before she pulls the linen napkin across her lips.

I need to answer that. This is where the lies start. "A few years."

"It's a nice area of the city." She picks up the wine glass, studies it and then sets it back down without bringing it to her mouth.

"It is," I offer back. Christ, why is one little lie tearing me up inside? "Do you like where you live?"

"You don't like where I live." Her eyes brighten. "I can tell when you're there."

"It's not that I don't like the place." I push my plate aside. "I don't like that fucking couch you always tell me to sit on."

"What's wrong with it?" she asks sweetly.

It's the actress part of her again. It has to be. That wide grin on her face isn't hiding a thing.

"It's fucking deadly, Libby. The springs in that thing are determined to take off my left nut." I reach down and graze my hand across my crotch. "Next time I’m standing."

"You're exaggerating." She runs her hand lightly across her cheek. "It's not that bad."

I want to tell her that I'll give her a raise so she can move to a different place. Hell, I want to set her up in a new place tonight. I can't stand the thought of her going back there. It's not where she belongs. She's way too good for it. She's way too good for me.

"I'm glad I agreed to have dinner with you."

I hate when she does that. I hate when she's sweet and so fucking genuine. I don't want her to be polite. I don't need her to make me feel things. I just want her to use me, the way women have been using me for years.

"Come with me Libby." I stand and reach out my hand to her in one easy movement. "There's something I want to show you."

***

"This is an actual Tony award, Alec."

I look down into her face. She's glowing. She's cradling the statue in her hands, her eyes running over it, taking in every nuance and circular curve. "It is an actual Tony."

She sighs softly as she hands it back to me. "Where did you get it?"

I pull my brow into a mock scowl. "I've backed a few plays in the past few years, Libby."

"Not one of them ever received a nomination."

I laugh before placing it back down on the desk in my home office. "How do you know that?"

She giggles causing the hair that is resting on her shoulders to fall forward. There's something wildly innocent about her but at the same time she's one of the most provocative women I've ever been around. She's the perfect balance of softness and seductive all wrapped up in a tight body and flawless face.

I push her hair back into place. "The award was a gift." I don’t elaborate. I should. I should tell her that I bought it at an auction to give to someone.

"That's a really nice gift." She runs her hand along the base. "The person who gave it to you must have cared about you a lot."

It's a question wrapped up in a statement. It's not one I can answer though. I need to leave her assumption as it. "It's been a good source of inspiration. I hope Selfish Fate gets a few nominations this year."

"I do too."

"You look so happy when you're rehearsing." I take a step closer to her. "You're in your element when you're singing and dancing."

She bows her head slightly as the faint light in the room catches her earrings. "I feel best when I'm performing. I feel like me."

"I can tell," I whisper the words softly into the stillness of the room.

I want to touch her. Christ, I seriously want to touch her. It's taken all the self-control I have not to lunge at her and pull her into the bedroom. I can't push her though. She's not like the others. I want her to want me.

She turns so she's facing me directly now. Her eyes lock with mine. "I don't want anyone from work to know that I came here."

I'm playing with fire. I'm so fucking deep right now that I can't think straight. I need to take her home. I need to walk as far away from her as I can and let her live her life. I need to tell her to chase that goddamn neighbor of hers she said she was hot for. I need this to stop. I can't let this stop. "No one will know you were here."

"You promise?" she asks, her eyes close slightly. "No one will know about us?"

"I don't advertise what I do in my private life." My hand sweeps over her chin. "If you want to keep this quiet, I'm make that happen."

Her beautiful brown eyes lock with mine. "Make it happen."

I take the words literally. I pull her supple body into mine, sweep my lips over hers and give in to my unending need for Libby Duncan.

Libby

"Christ, Libby, please." His hands tangle wildly in my hair, the pressure soft enough to show the tenderness I need, yet aggressive enough to express that even when he's in the most vulnerable of positions, he's still the one in control.

My lips splay over the wide head. I suck on it gently, knowing he needs time to adjust to the pressure of my mouth. He's large, he's thick, and he's beautiful. I'd imagined his cock since I saw him in the elevator. I'd anticipated its taste since he pushed himself against me and its outline on my stomach held the promise of a depth of pleasure I'd never known before.

After he told me he'd keep things quiet, I'd fallen to my knees. The act itself was out of sheer need. I want to taste him. I need to please him. I have to give him what he gave to me.