Curved (6 page)

Chapter 10

I stepped inside a plush lobby complete with elongated couches lining a marble wall. Again, real marble. The front desk had to be pure, natural mahogany straight from whatever jungle they grew in. The attendant there waved at me immediately, her glasses shining from the bright lights surrounding her—chandeliers almost, crossed with an imitation plant, creating a halo around her head. She smiled at me as I approached.

“Hi,” she said, “what can I do for you today?”

“The penthouse suite,” I said. “Joseph Videl is… Waiting for me.”

“Yes, you must be Ophelia O’Malley.”

“That’s me. Mrs. O’Malley.” Saying my last name made me feel formal, regular even. Like I wasn’t here for a late night visit with my boss, sleeping with him. Not that the attendant would’ve known, but still. It helped my psyche out. “Can I just go up?”

The attendant nodded, getting up from her chair. Unlike the front desk at my apartment complex, here, they rang up the carriage for you, asked if you wanted any drinks before going, and even carried my purse since my arms were sagging and I was looking tired.

When the elevator arrived, a bellhop greeted me as the doors opened.

“He will help you,” the attendant said, handing my bag back. “The top floor. Joseph Videl.”

The bellhop nodded. My heart swam in anxiety and nervousness. Whenever the bellhop looked at me, I glanced away. “Beautiful night, huh?” he said.

“It’s nice,” I said. “Really nice.”

“Joseph Videl has been preparing for you,” the bellhop said.

“What do you mean?”

“He’s been expecting your visit,” he said. “Normally there would be more people here. But he’s bought out the entire building recently. All the condos, all the rents. They’re his now.”

My instinct was to talk about how badly those tenants and owners must’ve been treated. But then the bellhop said, “I like Joseph the most out of everyone I’ve worked for. He’s a really, really unique man. Gets angry sometimes, but he only gets angry when he cares.”

“Yeah.”

“Here we are,” the bellhop said, our elevator rising to a halt. “Just walk down the hall this way.” The bellhop pointed straight down to a golden door opposite us.

I walked out from the elevator, the doors closing behind me. My footsteps sunk into what had to be the most comfortable carpet I ever stepped on. Even through my heels, I could feel how soft the fur was, how little traction there was whenever I pivoted.

“Okay,” I said, pep-talking myself. “He clearly has arranged everything for me. This must be a good thing. I can’t be scared. I have to do what Angela said.”

Raising my hand to knock, I remembered my phone. In the rush of getting to the elevator, I had placed it down in my purse without shutting it off.

Taking it out, I went to click the off button when the door opened.

“Hello,” Joseph said. He held his phone in his hand, pocketing it. “You’re a little late.”

“Sorry,” I said, stumbling forward. My hands were a flood and so were my feet. Sweat saturated my skin, that I immediately excused myself to the bathroom. “I just need a moment,” I said.

“Take your time,” Joseph said. “Let me walk you there.”

We went down a hallway framed by seemingly an infinite array of mirrors. Then inside the bathroom itself, I stepped before a glittering vanity, tall and immaculate. The center had to be so clear, I could see straight through to the other side: me.

For the first time in a long time, I had an actual body length mirror, my curvy self making me panic.

Could I really muster the confidence to be with Joseph?

Oh, who was I kidding. I had totally lost sight of why I even needed to be here: for business. Because of my programming errors. If I hadn’t made any, I wouldn’t be standing looking like a fool.

Not finding any use for touching up my makeup, I turned around, my hands trembling.

Joseph waited for me in the foyer, and it was then that I noticed his suit and tie, well-dressed as usual. His shoulders pressing the seams but not popping them, his arms slim but not skinny thin. Just right. His thighs pushed the enclosure of his trousers out with a flare, and his ass, well, let’s just say I wanted to rub up against it. I tried getting a view of his cock, but then I stopped myself, feeling ashamed.

Why should I go? I was here, wasn’t I?

When we got to his living room, I snuck a glance right at his crotch. Bulging outward, just slightly enough, was his dick. I could see the outline stretching away from his front panel, down the side of his leg. You had to look closely—after masturbating to online pictures of guys like him, I had become a pro.

“Sit down, sit down,” Joseph said. I squatted over a duvet, my heels catching on a carpet. I crept lower, awkwardly, until my ass planted firmly on the center of a leather wrap. Joseph sat next to me, facing me.

I turned myself to him. I smelled his cologne, the sting of his minty breath.

My cunt lips wetted themselves so much, I couldn’t stand.

My dress would be drenched.

“So,” he said, “you’re probably stressed out after what I told you.”

“Maybe,” I said. Putting my hands over my mouth, I changed my drift. “I mean, not maybe, but, you know, not exactly. Just sort of. I wasn’t scared. Or stressed, rather, that’s the word you used.”

Joseph placed his hand over my lips. “Shush,” he said. “You talk so much.”

He wasn’t smiling. But there came a slight smirk at the corners of his mouth, starting from the back of his chiseled jaw.

“I don’t mean to,” I said. “Not too much. I’m not trying to annoy you.”

“You’re not annoying,” Joseph said. “You’re interesting. I flew in from outside of Manhattan—had some business over in Brooklyn, wheeled around and came up to Queens. You should ride in my helicopter. It’s very nice.”

The social justice girl in me raged. “But, wait a moment,” I said, pushing his hand aside, “you—you aren’t going to, I don’t know, charm me like this.”

Joseph laughed, his legs nudging me slightly as he crossed them at the ankle. I shirked away. “What makes you think I’m trying to charm you?” he said. “This is business, isn’t it?” He draped his hand over his armrest, leaning forward. The shine of his hair glinted in the soft light. “Although I did invite you to my place. So what do you think? Is this business? Or is this pleasure?”

“I’m not sure,” I said, finally ridding myself of my feelings. Now I would have my answers. “You have to tell me. Angela thinks there’s something going on between us.”

“At the office, that’s business,” Joseph said. His tone dropped to a dark wine, and I fell for it, my clit unintentionally squeezing up. “The home’s business for me too. But I can make it pleasure.”

“Yeah?” I couldn’t believe what I was saying. To make up for my obvious thirst, I angled my head away, pretending to feign disinterest. Even though I only wanted to jump his bones.

Remember, I thought, this is one of those bankers. On Wall Street, at that. He might be hot and sexy, but he’s a player, I know it.

“Maybe,” Joseph said, winking. “Tell you what, since I invited you, I’ve called up room service. Here, take the menu. Order whatever you want.” He walked over to a table with two menus. He handed me one, and my eyes scrolled across the front.

Oh my God, I thought. Angela would have died.

There were no prices—which is exactly how I could tell this was exorbitantly expensive. All the items were handmade and came with a fancy cursive font to describe them.

Moreover, the names were all in French. I couldn’t pronounce them. So I pointed to pictures feebly, as Joseph got on the phone to order us dinner. Being a curvy woman, I disliked pigging out.

But then Joseph told me, “Order whatever you want. Eat whatever you want. It’s on me.”

The day’s event with Zena and Ricarda simmered in my mind. I would eat to spite them. And I would eat for my best friend who stuck with me even when she could’ve gone to pick up guys.

I had forgotten that she abandoned the meet-and-greet. We were so rushed leaving campus.

“About my work,” I said, “you know, I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have to leech off of you.”

“You’re not,” Joseph said. “I have some things I want to talk to you about.”

“All right,” I said, listening to him finish up our order. But if this was going to turn out to be an elaborate pickup line, I wasn’t going to have him.

What waste. The helicopter ride. My time… I couldn’t fall for a man like him.

Could I?

I followed him to the roof, where we would get some “fresh air.” The stars stood out that night, burning over me brightly. The moon sliced open the sky, clouds collecting underneath it. Joseph opened every door, stepped in front of me whenever there was even a crack. He was the perfect gentleman every woman wanted. Rich, powerful, attentive—attentive to me at least.

But his lifestyle wouldn’t be conducive to mine. Not to my mental framework and worldview.

Why don’t I just give up pretending, I thought. I don’t really care about benefiting others. Maybe Lindsay is right. I’m only at the Manhattan’s Concern to feel good.

“Can I ask you why you entered investment banking?” I said. The rooftop was wide, and my voice echoed against the wind. A railing stretched and wrapped around the side of the building, protecting us from what had to be a 500 m drop. Colder up here than inside, Joseph stood close to me, his body warm and emanating heat.

“Can I hold you? You’re shivering.”

“If you didn’t mandate this dress code,” I mumbled.

His hands were like coals on my skin. As I settled into his jacket, I felt his fingertips snake around my bare shoulders.

“I do what I do because I’m good at it,” Joseph said. “I’ve always had a passion for business. Investment banking is kind of the pinnacle of East Coast business. Hollywood exists in California, but what does New York do?”

“Right,” I said.

“You have complaints?”

“Sometimes,” I said. “Hey, aren’t we supposed to be doing my programming stuff?”

“By now you must’ve realized there was nothing wrong with your programs,” Joseph said. His hands slid further across my skin, down until he cupped my hands just as he had in his office. “You must’ve realized by now how perfect your program actually was. Is. There were no problems. This was just a test.”

“A test?” I said. “A test for what?”

My knees knocked together. I covered my skirt up, clinching the bottom shut. Joseph’s warm hand crawled towards my belly, rubbing the topside of my pelvis.

I let him do this. Why stop him? With my clit throbbing, he could probably tell just by looking at me on the surface that I wanted him.

“You like me,” I said. “You’re attracted to me.”

“I am,” Joseph whispered in my ears. He bit the edges of my lobe, his hands searching underneath my skirt. “I know you’re attracted to me too.”

“Is it that obvious?” I said, arching my spine against him.

“You women talk and I listen very well,” he said. We lay against the railing, he behind me, his arm wrapped around my waist, his hand underneath and at my clit. “Your body language though says something completely different from what your resume and words imply.

“You’re always looking at me. Batting your eyelashes, probably when you don’t even know. You’re nervous around me. And it doesn’t help that Angela has a big mouth.”