THE BILLIONAIRE'S SECRET WIFE

3; Drunken Mistakes.

CHAPTER 3- “Drunken Mistake”.

Amelia Rose Smith.

Hazel was the first to notice me, her eyes widening before her lips curled upwards in excitement. “Oh, my God, Amy! You actually made it,” She dropped her cup aside, before hopping off the stool and pulling me into am embrace.

“Yes, I did.” My own lips slanted into a wide smile, my heart content upon meeting up with my old, and quite possibly only friends. Don’t get me wrong, I can be social when I want to but not everyone is a friend of mine.

The minute Hazel released me from her arms, she held me at arm’s length then added in an excited voice. “I am so glad you are back. We have so much to catch up on now that your schedule isn’t so strict.”

I could only offer her a smile, not knowing how to tell her that I very much prefer such a strict schedule for it keeps me occupied to not think of other unwanted thoughts.

Isla extended her hand out so she held mine, “Amy, you look younger every day,” She commented, her tone holding a certain edge I did not quite miss. Her smile isn’t as bright as Hazel’s, but I did not give much thought to it. “Who would think you are twenty-six when you look like you’re in your early twenties. Really, how do you do it?”

“I know right!” Hazel agreed, though she seemed whole heartedly genuine, “It must be in the genes really,” She directed the statement to Isla, before meeting my gaze again with a wider grin. “You are aging fine like wine, girl. And that dress, ohh,” She gave me a onceover, taking in my golden dress that stopped an inch to my knees. She let out a low whistle, “I’d tap that if I was a guy as well.”

It does not hug my body tightly, but it does accentuate my curves.

It is sleeveless, with a sweetheart neckline and a slight slit on the side to allow free movement. I let my auburn hair in waves, though I always keep it at bob length so it only reaches up to my neck—now I’ve allowed it to grow an inch more. I love my short hair nonetheless; it just feels very much like me.

“You would, won’t you?” Isla’s smile still wasn’t the brightest. Meeting my gaze, she offered me a slightly wider smile. “I guess the men will be crazy over you all again, just like how they used to.”

“Well, they are the least of my concerns,” I said earnestly. “Life does not always revolve around men.” I stated as a matter of fact. “I am more worried about Nana and getting a new job.”

Isla hummed, but did not comment further. Somehow, the conversation shifted from my figure to our lives in general. We left the counter and found a booth for three.

“Amy, you were working at Montague Concept, right?” Hazel asked, earning a nod from me. “Wow, that’s such a good company. Heard the CEO is now the Chairwoman of Montague Groups. It must suck that you had to quit and move back here when you could have gotten promoted to a higher position.”

“I guess,” I shrugged. “I am now more concerned about Nana though. I plan on taking her for a checkup on Wednesday.”

Isla whom had left to get us our drinks—she offered—came back just there. “Ladies, here’s your drinks,” She handed Hazel hers, her fourth martini I think, then handed me my first and hopefully last. I don’t plan on getting drunk.

“Thank you,” I offered her a small smile.

She waved it off, “Don’t mention it.” She settled back in her position.

We carried on with the conversation. “You applied for work at Bianchi Cooperation, right?” Hazel asked again, going along with the flow of the conversation.

“Amongst others, yes,” I took a sip of my drink, immediately welcomed by its sweet taste contrary to the bitter taste of whiskeys and others. Taking another sip, now enjoying it, I continued. “I will be going for an interview tomorrow as well.”

“That is great, I know you will get it. You are talented, and that speaks for itself,” Hazel rested an arm on my shoulder, offering me an encouraging smile. “Speaking of Bianchi Cooperation, Isla’s working there as well. You guys might be coworkers.”

Isla smiled, “If she gets in,” She offered me an apologetic look. “Don’t take this the wrong way, they just have a strict hiring policy. They like people with clean slate, they don’t want anything that will taint their image.” She must have noticed the slight change of air due to her words, because she then added. “But like Hazel said, you are talented so that speaks for itself. I am sure you will get in.”

“I know she will,” Hazel has more confidence in me than I do in myself apparently. Holding my gaze, she affirmed. “You will get it, I know you would.”

I smiled back, refusing to let my mind dwell on the possible double meaning behind Isla’s words, knowing it will only ruin my mood.

“Enough of all that, we are here to unwind and enjoy the weekend—and believe me, I need one after the hell my boss makes me go through,” She gouged down her drink in one go, then dropped the empty cup on the floor. Taking a hold of my hand and Isla’s, she pulled us up. “Let us hit the dance floor!”

Isla and I quickly finished our drinks as well, before joining her on the dance floor. It has been a while since I have been at a club, a very long time really but the minute I was on the dance floor, and saw the two girls start dancing as well, I got in character as well, allowing myself to unwind.

Music blares, making me shake my hips to the beat of the music, letting loose. A couple of men tried to get close, but I gestured them away, not welcoming any of them unlike my two friends that have already found themselves partners. I meant what I said earlier—I have no plans of getting involved with anyone, for obvious reasons.

A while later, the world began to spin slightly, and I deem it as time for me to stop and catch my breath. I excused myself from them, “I will just head to the rest room,” I said over the loud music, and I guess they both barely heard, already occupied so I just excused myself.

I managed to find the restroom, and luckily, it was empty, so I did what I had to do and got a minute to calm myself down. But, a few minutes passed and everything began to become so hot, like the temperature was turned up a notch and my gaze began to become blurry. No matter how much I tried to splash water on my face, it was not getting any better so I decided to just head back home, it is late enough already.

Stepping out of the restroom, I tried to make my way back, but my gaze was slightly blurry and my brain could barely make sense of the surroundings. Finding the door in sight, one that I thought led back to the club, I pushed it open and stepped in, taking further steps in. Along the course of that, I bumped into a hard, built body, making me instantly take a few steps back—thankfully managing to get a hold of myself before I could fall.

“I am sorry,” I apologized, before trying to side step the person. However, my head spun again then, and I twisted my ankle, making me fall back. I braced myself expecting contact with the floor but I felt arms around me, pull me up and steadied against a warm body.

“Are you okay?” A deep, sensual voice asked in a low voice.

My stomach was instantly in knots, as I raised my head to look at the person. But my gaze was so blurry, I could barely make out his face nor my thoughts. The only words that made it out being, “Hot,” I whispered. “It is so hot in here.”

“No, it’s not.” His voice came again, sounding certain. “Are you sure you are okay?” I think that is what he said, I am not sure, I could only see his lips moving, and I could only feel how good his warm body feels against mine

Swallowing thickly, I do not know what got through my mind as I reached upwards and pressed my lips against his. He reacted almost immediately, pushing me away.

“What are you doing?” I think he sounded upset.

I did not care—my mind too woozy. “Shh,” I pressed a finger against his lips, feeling my own lips curl upwards into a stupid grin. Why am I acting like this? I don’t even know. “Just enjoy it,” I whispered, then leaned upwards to kiss him again, but he stopped me even before I could.

“You definitely are not okay,” He sounded certain. I don’t think he sounded too composed as well. “Let’s get you out.” He tried to pull me away with him, but I refused to move. He stopped, “What are you--”

Before he could answer, I cut him off my placing my lips against him, and this time around, he did not push me away, but he did not kiss me back either. I pulled back slightly and whispered against his lips, “Please,” I looked up and met his gaze, “It is so hot in here.”

“This is not a good idea,” He warned, but his voice sounded a bit similar to mine. His hand dropped lower, wrapping itself around my waist and pulling me closer to him so our bodies were pressed against each other-I could feel the warmth emanating from him. That coupled with the heat I am feeling, ignited a feeling I did not I had in me. “Are you sure you want to do this? There is no going back.”

I could not care less about his warning, I simply pushed myself up on my tip toes and whispered against his lips, “I want you,” I wrapped my arms around his neck, my brain barely deciphering what exactly my lips are letting out. “All of you.” I pressed my lips against him again.

This time around, he did not pull away. His own lips moved against mine, smooth, sensual, and toe curling as he pulled me closer to his body smoothly. All rational thought escaped my mind like it had the very minute I started to feel dizzy earlier.

I could vaguely remember the feel of my back against what seems to be a bed, and our clothes thrown out of the way. But somehow in between getting under the sheets and his world of kisses, I felt myself afloat of all rational sense.

For the first time in my life, I lost control willingly…to a certain extent. I did exactly what I said I will never do…have a drunken—or drugged—one night stand with a stranger.