Julian

Chapter Three-2

“Yeah, that’s tough.” She sympathized. “What is the new assistant like?”

“I haven’t met her yet; just read about her on paper. Gabriel assures me she is the best person for the job, so I guess I’ll find out when I get back next week.”

This was the topic I was trying to avoid, and somehow I’d walked right back into it. The image of Luna in that pink bikini traipsed through my mind uninvited and threatened to take hold of my every thought.

“Well, I’m sure everything will work itself out.” Isabella was always an optimist. It was part of what made her so popular with the masses on social media. “I hate to cut this short, but I’ve just gotten an invite to a club I’ve been dying to get into. It’s for tonight, so I need to run and get myself ready and call peeps to find out if they can go with me.”

“Sure, no worries. We’ll talk soon, yeah?”

“Don’t wait so long next time. Love you!” I’d barely returned the sentiment when she was gone, off to her next adventure. I was left to sit with my thoughts.

I decided there was nothing else to do but sip some scotch and put myself to bed. I hoped sleep would force the thoughts of Luna from my head.

***

I WAS A bear to be around after getting very little sleep the night before. I dreamed about Luna more than once, finally giving up on a restful night’s sleep just after 5 am, and turning to coffee to stay awake for the next 16 hours.

My official start time at the Minneapolis branch office was scheduled for 9 am, but I arrived an hour early, hoping for a distraction from my own brain. I had never been drawn to a photograph of a woman before, and in my time before work, I began to wonder about early-onset dementia. I’d even Googled it, only to realize how ridiculous the notion was.

It was far more likely that my libido was easily triggered because I’d gone too long without a woman with me between the sheets. I had a few connections in Minneapolis that I could call up and take out for the evening. I decided to do just that when I accidentally called a secretary by Luna’s name during my lunch break.

The afternoon went marginally better as meetings occupied me with the executives of the branch. However, I was short with them, and I could tell they were hesitant to initiate discussion topics because of that. Things were reeling a bit since the head of sales left the company after her contract lapsed, and nobody had seen it coming. There was no backup plan, so the department was being run by the head of marketing and the former head of sales’ executive assistant.

They had been limping along, doing the best they could, but it was clearly past time to get a new executive situated in the empty office. We brainstormed candidates for the position, and by the end of the day, had come up with several viable solutions. I would leave the executive team the final decision on who was filling the vacancy.

My plan was to make an appearance at a local bar for drinks with the team, then take an acquaintance out for dinner and hope the night went well after. Since the workday ended up dragging on, we decided to skip the bar. I texted Rochelle, one of my occasional lovers, inviting her out for the evening. She replied within a few minutes to let me know she’d freed up her schedule to give me the time. I found myself looking forward to a little downtime with good food, conversation with a friend, and hopefully s*x hot enough to take my mind off of a woman I’d never even met. Perhaps using another to erase my lustful thoughts wasn’t the best move, but it was certain to be pleasurable.

I put my laptop in my shoulder bag and took a look around the conference room to make sure I didn’t forget anything. Looking down at my grey suit, I contemplated stopping by the hotel before heading to dinner, but I was already cutting it close on time. The lavender dress shirt and matching tie didn’t exactly scream power suit, but I doubted Rochelle would be looking to critique my fashion. She’d be more focused on getting me out of my clothes.

I put my overcoat on and grabbed my bag, waving to the few executive assistants who were working past 5. I pressed the down button when I reached the elevators at the end of the hall. When I was in my office back home, I was almost always the last out the door. I prided myself on having a strong work ethic. It was what allowed me to build such a successful company. I didn’t have several best-selling business books and high net worth because I’d allowed others to do my job for me.

Shaking my head, I stepped onto the elevator that had arrived and mentally went over my schedule as it descended toward the lobby. I used a town car company when I was traveling to avoid the hassle of parking. It came in handy for date nights, so neither party had to decide who would stay sober to drive. I needed to unwind tonight.

I nodded to the security guard at the door as I walked out of the building.

“Have a good evening, Mr. Rivera,” he called out as he returned my nod.

“Same to you,” I replied.

The sleek black town car pulled up, and I hopped in before the driver could get out. I didn’t see a reason to stand on formality.

“Good evening, Sir,” Juan, the driver, said. “How was your day?”

“As well as could be expected.” I cracked my neck and buckled myself into the plush leather seat. The car always smelled new, of oiled leather and faint citrus cleaner. I took a deep breath and let it out, willing the cares of the day away with my exhalation. “Your day?”

“I got a lot of reading done.” Juan was free while I was working since I used his service by the day. He usually parked somewhere and caught up on whatever book he was reading through. You would never know it by looking at him, but he was a thriller buff. I was sure he’d read every Stephen King novel more than a dozen times. They never seemed to get old for him.

“Where to?” He asked, glancing at me in the rearview mirror.

“Per Amore Della Famiglia.” The Italian restaurant was one of my favorites when in town. It was upscale yet felt familiar, homey. It was just what I needed tonight. After the conversation with Isabella, I was missing home more. I usually didn’t allow myself to think about it. By all standards, my siblings and I saw our parents more than many grown children who had moved away from home. We flew to Puerto Rico or flew our parents to us several times a year.

I watched the waning light reflect against the high-rise windows as we passed through downtown Minneapolis. The restaurant was on the outskirts but in a business sector that had been recently updated. I sent off a quick text to Rochelle, letting her know I was on the way.

15 minutes out. Table reservation under Rivera if you arrive first.

A few minutes later, my phone buzzed with her response. Should arrive when you do. See you soon.

I felt a stir of anticipation in my gut. I enjoyed my occasional trysts with Rochelle. She was an executive at a local media company, so she understood my lifestyle. I never had to worry that she would make more of our encounters than a quick release in a hectic way of life.

I didn’t have a specific type of woman. I preferred passion over slender or curvy, and a sense of humor trumped looks any day. Rochelle had a little of everything, though. She was tall, thin but not model thin, and had sleek, straight black hair. Her brown eyes were nearly black, and her skin was smooth mocha. The woman could hold her own in a conversation, and she was a vixen when unleashed in the bedroom.

Looking through my unread emails, I spotted one from Gabriel about the new executive assistant. Rather than read it, I closed the app. Tonight wasn’t about work. It could wait until tomorrow. Thankfully, there were no pressing issues for me to deal with. I could take a few hours to myself. The town car pulled up to the corner restaurant as I was putting my phone away.

The three-story building was shorter than those around it, and the restaurant took up the top two floors, with a boutique clothing store on the ground floor. The red brick building had large windows to let in what little light the taller buildings allowed through. It was a kind of oasis in a sea of towering cement structures.

“Don’t bother, Juan. I’ve got it.” I called as I reached to open my own door.

“I’ll be in the neighborhood when you need me,” he answered back.

I turned from the car as Juan drove off and noticed Rochelle standing just outside the double door entrance.

“Jules,” She called as she walked over, embracing me and kissing me on the cheek. I put an arm around her and returned the greeting.

“Mirlo,” I said affectionately. I’d always called her my blackbird because of her beautiful hair. Tonight she wore it swept back off her face but trailing in a sleek waterfall down her back. Her makeup was understated, black, winged liner and mascara accentuating her alluring eyes.

“Shall we?” I moved toward the doors, opening one and motioning for her to walk through ahead of me. “We should be right on time for our reservation.”

I followed her in and pressed the up arrow on the elevator. It was already on the ground floor, and the doors opened so we could enter. I selected the three, and we ascended in silence. When the bell dinged, we exited into the upper reception area of the restaurant. The scent of roasted tomato and oregano filled my nostrils, and my mouth began to salivate in response.

Rochelle moved to take off her long black coat, and I helped her out of it. The black, long-sleeved deep-v knee-length dress she wore hugged her curves, showing off the swells of her breasts and a good portion of her back. I bit my lip in approval, and she smiled coyly in response. Removing my own coat, I handed them to the young man standing at reception. He in turn gave me a tag and hurried off to hang them.

“Welcome back, Mr. Rivera,” the hostess greeted me. “We’ve got your rooftop table ready as you requested. Please follow me.”

She picked up two menus bound in leather and walked through the doors leading to the terrace. I placed my hand on Rochelle’s lower back as I guided her to our table, the quickening of her breath audible and the twitch of my c**k immediate. He knew that sound and enjoyed it.

I pulled out Rochelle’s chair, and she slid gracefully in as I pushed it in under her. Portable heaters warmed the covered outdoor dining area, removing the chill from the fall air. Taking my own seat across from her, I reached for the waiting water glass and took a deep drink. Her laser focus on my mouth signaled exactly where she intended the night to go. When the waiter approached, I selected a favorite red for us, and we placed our orders.

“I’m so glad you thought to let me know you were in town,” Rochelle practically purred. She reached across the table and lightly stroked the back of my hand with her perfectly manicured nails. “I’ve missed you.”