Chapter 2
1008 Words
Chapter Two
“Oh, Mr. Baldwin—”
“Call me, Roarke.” His arrogance shines through his eyes over the rim of his glass. His Adam’s apple bobs, prompting sweat to puddle between my breasts.
“I don’t think so.” I sip from my own drink, needing the coolness to chill my skin back to the icy hatred I need to deal with this vulture.
“Why?”
Chelsea makes a squeaking sound and Victoria reaches over and squeezes her knee.
“Why what?” I ask in a voice devoid of emotion.
“Why won’t you call me Roarke?” The ice in his glass clinks again as he sets it down and my eyes clock his expensive watch. His crisp white buttoned shirt sleeves peek out of his dark charcoal suit. He even has a crimson pocket square in his front pocket which separates him from every other suit in here.
Which is fitting since he walks around like he’s the f*****g King of England.
“Roarke would make it sound like I liked you. I do not.”
His hand covers his heart and his gaze darts over to my friends. “Is she always this straightforward?”
The girls who I hired for their sharp tongues and intelligence look like a pair of starry-eyed lovesick teenagers right now.
Roarke doesn’t wait for them to answer because like most things with him, I’m certain he doesn’t care what anyone else’s opinion is about anything.
“Your words, Ms. Crowley, they hurt. I’ve done nothing to warrant your hatred.”
I tilt my head and draw in a slow, deep breath trying my best to rein my temper in.
One….two…three.
Yeah, that didn’t work.
“You took from me. You stole a lot from me. Things he didn’t deserve.” I school my face to not show how angry I am.
“Now, now. My client paid me to do a service for him. I did that service.”
I huff but quickly quiet myself and straighten my back. “Your client didn’t work for that money. He didn’t work for that vacation home. He didn’t sweat for anything. His surgeon salary was untouched for most of our marriage.”
Why am I rehashing my divorce like we’re in mediation again?
I put my hand up in the air before he can deliver his rebuttal. “You know what? Never mind. The divorce is over and I’m rid of that name now. It is what it is, but I will assure you, Mr. Baldwin, I do not need your help now, nor do I need your assistance in the future. Thank you for your kind offer, but we’re fine.”
The f*****g bastard smiles like I just jerked him off until his c*m dripped down my fingers like a melted ice cream cone.
“All right then. I’ll leave you ladies to figure out a solution yourselves.” He slides out of the booth with the finesse of a man who’s never been clumsy his entire life.
“Goodnight, Mr. Baldwin.”
“Han… Ms. Crowley.” His knuckles rap on the wood of the tabletop, his eyes still taking me in.
Saliva puddles in my mouth but I refuse to swallow. I’ll never let him witness my physical attraction to him.
“Is there something else, Mr. Baldwin?” My eyes train on his, the ache between my thighs growing.
“Should things change, you know where to find me.” He winks and Chelsea’s eyes follow him for a moment. Since the booth behind me doesn’t shift, I assume he’s moved to make the people on the other side of the room miserable with his presence.
Usually, I’d resort to curse words and another drink or two after reliving my divorce with the man who facilitated it, but the ladies need to trust that their boss can handle an egotistical male who’s trying to be the white knight galloping in to save the day.
“Holy s**t,” Chelsea says, her hands clutching her stomach like she’s about to vomit. “I thought Dean and I were intense. You two.”
“Chels.” My tone holds a warning.
“Good for you, Hannah. He can go suck it.” Victoria downs the rest of her Vesper.
I smile politely at Victoria. Chelsea’s still awestruck, her eyes having a hard time not veering over to Roarke.
“He’s just so…” Chelsea never learning her lesson continues to ramble. “Commanding.” Her eyes sweep over ours. “Like he’d do nasty stuff to you, but you’d enjoy every minute and then end up begging for more.”
I don’t disagree with Chelsea. Roarke Baldwin screams ‘strap me to a bed and show me how a real man does it.’ Not that I would say that. Ever.
No, I’d fall to my knees and show him exactly how a woman can transform him into making her breakfast the next morning. But if I let one toe dip in that water, I’m sure he’ll swallow me up like a hungry crocodile. That’s why the electric fence is between us, so it can zap me every time my damn lady parts want to take a dip.
“Chels. Dean?” Victoria reminds her of her fiancé.
Chelsea waves her hand in the air and rolls her eyes. “Please, Dean knows he’s the only one for me. I’ll tell him all about Roarke Baldwin when I get home and he’ll probably be extra alpha tonight to prove he’s the real man.” She looks absolutely giddy thinking about it. A flush appears on her cheeks as though she’s imagining what he’ll do to her. “I give Hannah credit though. I would’ve crumbled and I’m a hard case to break.”
“Chelsea, all Dean had to do was get you alone in his office,” Victoria says.
Her cheeks redden even more.
Sometimes I wonder what if? What if I wouldn’t have settled with Todd. What would fate have brought my way if I’d stayed single?
Roarke Baldwin?
My subconscious needs a real talking to.
“Chelsea, I don’t care what you have to do. I’ll pay whatever the cost. Find me a venue,” I say, shifting the conversation back to business.
She nods, knowing we’re shifting into go time.
I hired her because I saw her capability of turning no’s into yes’s so I feel assured that she won’t fail me now. There’s no way I can go to Roarke Baldwin and let the man have one up on me. At least not without losing my dignity.
- Writer
