* * *
I’m texting all and sundry, bringing them up to speed with the recent changes in my life.
C, I have the chance to design and sew for the next three months or so. That backer set me up in my own atelier/apartment so I can do it. Please don’t stress, I’ll still pay my side of the rent. Don’t worry about the situation at work either, because I’ve told Gerry and he understands. I’ll miss u, my friend. Speak soon, OK? Love, Noodle.
Charlie will understand. She knows two things about me: I would cross an ocean to be able to create a new collection and I’ve felt restless since I left the cozy domestic situation with my boyfriend and Sarah sold me out.
Next text.Mom, I think Roscoe and I have a real shot at making this work, but if our relationship is to have a chance at surviving, I have to meet him halfway. I’m moving into one of the buildings he owns and we’ll see what happens. It’s all in the laps of the gods. Thank you for a lovely barbecue. And please tell Dad that Roscoe says that marinade is the best he’s ever tasted. Love you x a billion, T.
Ping, ping. Two messages come back within minutes.
Charlie:You noodle! I knew that deal would come through 4 u! That’s fantastic news! If only because it means I can go back to the bedroom now! Seriously, girlie, u have a massive talent and I believe in u. Did u send a van to come pick up your stuff? One’s just pulled up into the driveway. Gotta go. Luv u, Charles.
I quickly type back:Yes, that’s my van. Don’t forget the stuff in the bathroom.
There goes Roscoe, overstepping the mark again. Sending someone to fetch my stuff before the ink is even dry on the contract. It reminds me to ask him to send someone to fetch my cutting table, mannequins, and sewing machines out of storage. I didn’t think I’d be doing that for a long time and puts a real smile on my face when I realize I’ll be running my hands over sensual fabrics again. Maybe if I keep busy, it will keep me in line as far as thinking about sex goes.
Mom:I sensed something between you two, so I’m not surprised. I won’t tell your Dad just yet, because he will say it’s too soon and he will want to send Jake over there to get something on paper to make sure this one can’t chuck you out on the streets if something goes wrong. Now tell me, Tessie, is it a real romance or just physical? Everything is moving so fast, you can’t tell me that you’ll only be designing in this new apartment of yours. Love, Mom.
Jake is my dad’s lawyer. He’s one mean son of a bitch, but very loyal to my dad so I can’t bring him into this.
I have to think hard before I reply. My mom and I are very close and I hate withholding secrets from her.
Momma, don’t worry. I’m not jumping blind into this one. It will be good for me, I promise. He’s a nice guy. The perfect combination, fun to be with and fulfills me in a very unique way. All I can say about Roscoe and me at this time is that our relationship is one of a kind.
At least that part about Roscoe being fun and our unique relationship is true. As for how he fulfills me in other areas? It’s kind of true, because I get a thrill whenever I imagine myself in bed with him.
Roscoe told me that the yacht trip with the Ishida Holdings team has been pushed back to Independence Day on Monday so that we can watch the fireworks from the deck. It was quite hard to tell him to leave my new apartment, because he seems very enthusiastic about things now that we have settled our arrangements; he wanted to talk. I ended up pushing him out of the door when he turned around to me to say, “And another thing…”
I ordered up a salad from the number he gave me—outside deliveries aren’t allowed in the building because they present a security risk, so he has a team of onsite chefs on call twenty-four hours in the kitchen he had installed on the basement level. Apparently, most of the people who lease apartments at RB1 are scared of being robbed or assassinated or both.
There is bottled water in the fridge and I drink one after checking the expiry date. Roscoe’s excitement at me being here; the empty apartment with its echoing rooms; his reluctance to leave…something makes me think that Roscoe Bridges lives a solitary life when he’s not making love to models. This place feels more like a suite in one of those abandoned hotels where the tourists have decided to spend their vacations somewhere else.
As I drift off to sleep, I think about Roscoe’s bedroom exactly above mine. My body throbs with longing when I imagine him lying in bed. What were those words he said to me?“We live right next door to one another, Tessa. Are you saying that you won’t feel like fucking for the next three to six months, or however long it takes to wrap this deal up?”
I want him to fuck me right now. I foresee a lot of self-pleasure in the nights ahead of me. Maybe I should think about getting a toy.
CHAPTER11
ROSCOE
If I’m to make it through this, I have to have sex. The thought of little Miss luscious Tess Jolliffe sleeping only a few feet below me has the capacity to drive me mad with sexual tension overload. It’s been such a long day, I’m too tired to bring myself off; if I come on my sheets in the middle of the night, it will actually do me a favor.
When I wake up, I don’t even want to check. For the first time in my life, I yank the sheets down onto the floor so the cleaning staff can’t see anything. When did I become so prudish? God knows my cleaning staff have seen some crazy stuff in this room before. Then I realize what it is. I’m embarrassed if there is a stain on the linen, because there was no woman with me last night. That would have to be a first for Roscoe Bridges. If I think about it, I was in Japan setting up this deal for a few months and then Ben set me up with Melissa—only for me to have Tess blow that out of the water—so I haven’t been to bed with a woman for what seems like a long time. But I don’t want just any woman. I want Tess.
Not bothering to shrug on a robe, I head outside in my Fastskin Speedo, hit the pool, and start my laps. One hundred or so should beat the kinks right out of me.
I’m alone with my thoughts in the pool. My problem is this: I like my new fake fiancée and I respect her. I don’t think I’ve ever been able to say that about a woman before. Desire them? Yes. Take a huge amount of pleasure in bedding them? For sure. But liking a woman and respecting her enough to put aside my three strikes rule has never entered my playbook before. I wish I could say this selfish streak was all my fault, but I don’t think it is.
When I’m incognito, women want to lay me because of the way I look, and when a woman knows who I am, it’s as if I’m a magnet for opportunistic females. I don’t know how it feels to be rejected. I stay clear of married women and those in steady relationships, I always wear a condom so there’s no chance of accidents, and I don’t even have to come and go because I like doing it in my own bedrooms or hotel suites, so it’s always the woman who must leave and not me. Tess is right, I need a change. I’m stuck in a rut. This Japanese deal is a sign.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
I stand up, wipe the water off my face, and like I summoned her, standing at the edge of the pool in a bikini is the woman occupying my thoughts. The heated water is not that cold, so I get semi-hard immediately when I see what she’s wearing. I pray what’s happening is hidden by the tightness of my Fastskin streamline fit. She looks absolutely gorgeous in her swimwear. The bottom half skims just above the enticing mound underneath the material and the top gently cups and holds her breasts, enhancing her cleavage. “Is that one of your designs?” I want to know. The question makes her smile. “I don’t do my own swimwear yet. There’s a reason why Fastskins are so expensive, you know, and it’s not just paying all those celebrity athletes who wear them.”
I see she’s noticed what I have on, which isn’t hard to do, the logo is so iconic. She sits down on the edge of the pool, dips her feet in the water, and continues. “The fabric is a special weave that allows the water to flow over it faster; the fit compresses the body in such a way that it has a physical as well as a psychological effect on the wearer. How cool is that? Do you know how much research and production value goes into creating something like that?”
“It’s having some kind of physical effect on me, that’s for sure.” I lift myself out of the pool and wrap my towel around my waist. All sorted. “I want to go shopping today. You must fill your apartment with personal items to make it look like you’re settled in. Then we can go get a ring. You can wear it on a chain around your neck so that if anyone asks to see it, you can lift it out, but it’s not on show for the world to see. I want to go out for brunch, so dress for that. Then the interior decorator—”