As I said, I don’t mix business with pleasure. At least, it’s never happened before. And, whatever happens, I always choose money over my personal relationships with people. And I'm glad that she knows it. She knows that I'm totally not capable of a serious relationship. She's a smart woman, and she definitely deserves better than what I can give her.
When I walk out of my bedroom at seven-thirty in the morning, I see Crystal is already fully dressed, wearing makeup and a new hairstyle. Her thick dark hair is gathered in a sleek bun, I guess to look more professional.
"Good morning," I say seriously when I walk into the living room, where she sits on a couch, studying the papers she prepared for today's meeting.
"Merry Christmas Eve," she says with a smile when she sees me, and rises from the couch.
She's wearing a tight dark red dress, which covers her breasts as well as her knees, but I swear that I've never seen a more attractive woman than the one standing in front of me. I force myself to stop looking at her body and look into her eyes.
Luckily, she hasn't noticed my reaction, placing the papers she was holding into her bag. When she looks up at me again, I realize that she's wearing glasses.
She smiles at me, completely ignoring my stern voice, and my decision to be distant from her seems to evaporate little by little.
"I didn't know you wore glasses," I say, unable to look away from her huge brown eyes, which look even sexier in those reading glasses.
"Oh, they're not exactly glasses, just blue blockers." She smiles even wider, showing her beautiful white teeth that contrast so much with her sun-kissed skin, "I use them when I work with computers, but today I thought they would make me look more professional."
Wrong decision.Those glasses might be making her more confident, but they definitely make me more distracted.
I can't help but imagine her kneeling down in front of me, slowly unzipping my pants and taking me in her mouth while looking up at me with these big brown eyes in those glasses.
My cock jumps inside of my pants.
"Let's go. Tom Masterson hates when people are late," I snap, twitching because of my dick's reaction. I hope she hasn't noticed anything.
Crystal's wide smile leaves her face immediately, and she grabs her bag and follows me.
We won't be late. We’re meeting Masterson for breakfast in the hotel restaurant, and he’s usually fifteen minutes early. That means we still have a whole half an hour.
As we enter the elevator, I try not to look at her at all. I knew hiring her was a bad idea. I needed someone older, more experienced, and, obviously, someone less attractive.
Don't get me wrong, I date woman all the time. Well, notdateexactly. An agency provides models for men like me to escort them to events and parties. I don’t pay them for sex, by the way. They always agree to sleep with me because they want it too. Sometimes I see the same woman a couple of times; that's why magazines start calling them my girlfriend—excellent PR for models like them. Win-win.
But I’ve never felt the things I feel when I'm around Crystal. Something wild, primal awakens in me when I'm with her. I become a caveman who wants to grab her and keep her in his lair forever.
The first time she was arguing with me, I wanted to push her legs apart and punish her. I should have told her then that she wasn’t suitable for this job. I didn't need to hire her.
But I did it anyway. Because I promised myself that I'd choose a person whose idea was the best. I couldn't reject her just because she's attractive. I'm not that kind of man, or maybe that’s what I thought. My whole life, I’ve thought of myself as a man who's capable of holding back emotions and controlling myself. But when I happen to be around this woman, I'm not sure about that anymore.
I prepared so many challenges for her, all designed to result in failure, to tell her she's not ready for this job. I asked her to work extra hours during the holidays, but she agreed without hesitation. I told her to change strategy charts and only gave her a day in which to do it, but she did it, even turning it in before the deadline. I guess she pulled an all-nighter before the flight.
And the last challenge I’ve prepared is Tom Masterson, my father's longest-running investor and a real pain in the ass.
My mom hates Masterson, not only because he always tried to grope her while my father was distracted, but also because he thinks of women as sex objects only, and he never pays attention to their opinion.
But my father always ignored how much of a jerk Masterson was because he gave him money. Masterson, unlike my father, inherited a fortune and had no idea what to do with it. That's why he needed someone like my father. He needed his smarts to know how to use that money.
I haven't talked to Tom Masterson for many years. When my father died, I stopped calling him to invest. First of all, I don't really need money anymore. I have plenty of my own. And secondly, because I have so many other investors who want to work with me now, so I really don't need Masterson.
But I called him anyway. I knew he wouldn't refuse my offer. He will never saynoif he can earn a couple more millions of dollars. Moreover, he recently bought one of the largest beauty store chains in the States, and distribution through those stores is what my new products really need right now. Also, he's the only man I know who would agree to meet me on Christmas Eve.
"You need to know something," I say to Crystal, though I know I'll regret it. "About Masterson."
"We need him, I get it," she says right away, facing me. "If he lets us use his stores for distribution, that could bring in another two or three hundred million dollars."
"Yes, you're right, but that's not what I'm talking about." I look into her huge brown eyes, and I instantly feel like shit.
I shouldn't have set her up like this. I could've asked to meet Masterson by myself, without bringing her here. I really don't need the new marketing assistant to escort me. There's no point.