“Oh right, the New York office.” I sighed.
It wasn’t my idea to have an office there but my investors were pushing to dominate the U.S. market and that meant opening up in New York. It was the last thing I wanted to do. London was my home now and the thought of being an hour away from my sister irritated me. I loved her to death, don’t get me wrong, she was just…well, just Adriana.
“Your sister called to remind you that since you will be in New York next week, you have to attend that charity event.”
Do you see what I mean? Adriana was like an annoying five-year-old in a toy store when it came to charity events. This would not be the last time I heard about it. I expected a call shortly telling me what to wear, who I was bringing and how much I needed to donate. Fuck, this day was going downhill fast.
“Is that all?” I asked, annoyed with all this social bullshit.
“Yes, sir.”
“It’s going to be busy. Please book the Waldorf penthouse suite for me.” I glanced up from my screen. “That is all, you may leave now.”
She scurried out the door. I admired Kate for putting up with my bullshit. I originally hired her as an office junior, however I was quick to notice she didn’t run for the hills like every other pathetic little thing here. She was twenty-four, originally from Manchester. At first I struggled with her accent and her euphemisms but after living in London for the past five years, I finally got the hang of it all. My mother complained that my accent had changed and my sister complained that I called her a twat too often.
It only took a few minutes before my blackberry started ringing. I grabbed the phone, debating whether or not I should answer. I placed it against my forehead, willing it to stop.
“Adriana,” I answered in a stiff tone.
“Oh my God, Lex, finally!” She didn’t stop to take a breath; Adriana was like an energizer bunny on Prozac. “I know you got my messages regarding the charity ball. Don’t you dare hang up on me, Alexander Matthew Edwards! I’ve only got a few minutes to talk.”
A few minutes to talk, bollocks! Adriana could talk the hind legs off a donkey over the most mundane topic, a serious case of verbal diarrhea.
“I have already RSVP’d your name on the guest list and I have a date for you; don’t worry she is blonde just like you like them. Her name is Brooke and I know you’ll love her. So I’ve ordered you a tux. I’ll meet you wherever you are staying to drop it off. Oh, and the donation, we need to discuss that,” she added quickly.
“I can find my own dates, you know.”
“I know, dear brother, but Brooke is lovely and it’s been a while since you settled down,” she said, her voice lowered.
“You know I don’t do ‘lovely.’ She better be a fit bird.”
“A fit bird? What the hell does that mean? If by bird you mean because of the breasts you are such a jerkoff Lex, however yes, she is a fit bird. I’ve gotta go but I’ll get Kate to give me the details of the hotel. Love you.”
…
Our flight to New York was scheduled to leave at six. It was the standard five-hour flight; thank God for business class. I met Kate at the gate area, dressed in tight jeans, tanned knee-high boots and a white button-up shirt. I don’t think I had ever seen this casual side of her. Not bad in the looks department, not that I would ever go there. Golden rule number one: never shit on your own doorstep.
“Good morning, Mr. Edwards.” She half smiled.
“Good morning, Kate. Are you ready to board?”
She nodded, then we grabbed our bags and boarded the plane.
I adjusted myself into my seat and grabbed the New York Times to read. Kate was busily typing on her blackberry, smiling while she answered a text—boyfriend I bet, women were so easy to read. Trying my best to ignore her, I busied myself by reading an article on tax evasion in the U.S.
The flight took off at exactly six. The seatbelt sign
s went off and the stewardess started serving drinks. “Good morning, sir. Would you like anything to drink?” She licked her lips as she waited for my response. A redhead, interesting.
“Bourbon and coke, please.”
I suddenly wondered what it’d be like to join the mile high club. I might need directions to the restroom later, miss…I searched for her name tag…Miss Horne.
“And for your girlfriend?” she asked.
Kate burst out laughing. I stared at her, waiting for her to stop. Why was that so funny? I was a fucking catch. I knew I was good looking, call me conceited if you want, but I was six foot, worked out at the gym every fucking day, plus I was filthy rich. Women threw themselves at me. It annoyed me that she didn’t think I was good enough.
“I’m sorry,” she said, wiping a tear from her eye. “Just a gin and tonic, please.”