Sexiled: an enemies-to-lovers standalone Read online

  She smooths out part of her blouse. “Yeah, I told him I couldn’t do long distance anymore.”

  “I can totally understand that,” Vinny says. “That’s gotta be rough. Being away for ten weeks.”

  I squint at Vinny, giving him a look that says, I see you, man. Trying to play the swoop in on a wounded fawn game.

  What’s more entertaining to me is the fact that April is just making up fake romantic plot lines to spice up the office and spinning her Claddagh ring around.

  “That’s great, man. Well, I suggest you follow up when the market is closed.”

  “Busted!” April jokes. “No fun allowed in this office, haven’t you read page six of the handbook?”

  Vinny’s face goes red. “Oh, I, uh, I mean, it’s not like that. I was just saying, in general. What, we can’t talk about relationship status in this office?”

  “Relax, Vin. I’m just messing with you,” she adds.

  “Oh.” He gives an awkward chuckle.

  April turns to me. “By the way, boss. Do you have a sec? I wanted to ask you about Operation U.B.M.O.D.”

  I run through the acronym in my mind. What could it be?

  “I’ve got a couple minutes during my lunch hour. What’s up?”

  “What’s Operation U.B.M.O.D.?” Vinny asks.

  “None of your business, Vin,” April quips. “Something very sensitive, Vin. Needs Mr. Kennedy’s immediate attention.”

  He gives a funny look between the two of us. “All right, fine. I’ll go check out the Australia situation, boss. Catch ya later, April.”

  “Speaking of lunch,” April says. “I’m starved. You know of any places we could go for a quick bite?”

  “Sure. As soon as you tell me what this operation stands for.”

  She tilts her head. “I’d rather watch you try to figure it out.”

  I grin. The girl knows I love a challenge.

  We head out to eat at this corner place that’s known for their homemade empanadas and tostones.

  “So,” I take a sip of my iced tea. “How’s your day going? You know, aside from fraternizing with your coworkers, and clearly not reading page six of the handbook?”

  “If by fraternizing, you mean with you, then yes. And I ripped page six right out of the handbook. Honestly, though, it’s been pretty boring. I finished all of my work already.”

  “You finished reading that prospectus I sent you on Iron Mountain mines?”

  “Yes. And we should definitely pull out. That’s clear as day. Those mines aren’t opening any time soon.” I watch her mouth wrap around her straw, swallowing her iced tea. I clear my throat and refocus.

  “Where’d you research that? I had Gabe comb the Internet for data last week on that one. Honestly, I gave that to you as more of a joke.”

  “I called the town.”

  “You called them?”

  “Yeah. I just called around until I found someone who could give it to me straight.”

  I lean back in my chair. Damn. She’s aggressive with her research. “I just meant for you to read up on it.”

  “Yeah, well, sometimes you get the information you want faster if you go straight to the source.”

  Her feet brush mine under the table.

  “Where’d you learn to do that?” I’m incredibly curious about April, and her well-rounded skill set.

  “My mom. When I was little, she and my dad would talk finance at the dinner table. Let’s just say, I absorbed a lot at an early age about investment banking.”

  “Is that what you think you’ll do, ultimately?”

  The server arrives with our food, and we push aside our drinks to make room for the plates.

  “Honestly, I’m finding this whole experience a bit dry. My favorite part of the day is chatting with people at the office. Not doing the reports.”

  A small grin pulls at my lips, I notice. “Is that your favorite part of the day?”

  “Well, there might be another part that’s fun too…” she trails off, then looks around, as if to check if anyone’s around, then looks back at me. “By the way, I wanted to add a rule.”

  “A seventh rule?”

  “Yeah. So there’s no hurt feelings you know, when my ten weeks are done.”

  I give her a nod to continue and take a bite of a tostone.

  “I think it would best if we make it clear. No falling in love.” April blows on her empanada and puts it into her mouth.

  My heart skips a beat. “Why would there be a chance of that?” I stutter.

  “You never know, right? I mean, in our case, obviously I love being with you. But at the end of the day, what are we really? You’re twenty-five. I’m twenty. This can’t last forever, right?”

  She looks down and takes another bite of her empanada. I examine her face to see if I can tell what she’s thinking. I take a deep breath, and decide I’m just going to say what’s on my mind.

  Another Michael-ism pops in my mind.

  Say what you mean, and mean what you say.

  “You’re not just saying that because you’re afraid of what might happen if you actually did fall in love, are you?”

  She frowns. “Like I’m just protecting my feelings?”

  “Listen, I am not here to tell you what to feel. I’m not in love with you. Far from it. But you can’t just make a rule that says it won’t happen, that’s all I’m saying.”

  She swallows her food with her iced tea, then sets her fork face down onto the side of the plate.

  “When I was with Matt,” she says, “we said ‘I love you’ every time we saw each other. To him, those words clearly held zero value. So, why say it if you don’t mean it? Plus, I just don’t think…” Her words trail off.

  “Please, do go on.”

  She lets her gaze fall to the edge of the table. “Maybe I’m not deserving of a man’s full love? I don’t know. I feel silly saying that out loud.”

  I feel the vein in my neck contracting, pulsing. I swallow down the rest of my empanada, feeling entirely angry. I can’t tell if this is a train wreck of a conversation, or if it is one of the most honest I’ve ever had.

  “That’s a bunch of horseshit,” I grit out. “Don’t think that for a second.”

  She shakes her head. “You don’t have to comfort me. I still have some work to do on myself before I’ll be loveable, I think.”

  “That’s just not true, April.”

  “Why is it not true? What do you really know about me?”

  “Other than how great we are together in bed?”

  She lets out an exasperated sigh. “See? That’s what I’m starting to realize. We have great sex. Sex is not love. It’s two different things. We’re casual. This is what I want. What you want. We’re on totally different life paths right now. You’re a rising boss in an international hedge fund. I’m a college student. Right?”

  My jaw flexes. Something doesn’t feel entirely right about this conversation, about what she thinks of herself and of us. But now I’m feeling like I don’t want to freak her out, telling her that, God knows why, from the very first time I met her I felt something different with her. It was so different I almost didn’t recognize what it could mean.

  What am I supposed to say?

  But I am hearing her now, and she’s right. She’s young, I’m her boss, this is just an ill-fated, fun tryst, at best. Too much to lose to even entertain the idea of anything but something casual and with a definite expiration date.

  With a really great fucking connection. Beneath all of my rationalization, that connection keeps popping up and waving me right in the face.

  I don’t know how to sum all of this up for her without it sounding silly. So I just say, “Right, we’re having fun right now. That’s what counts.”

  “Sandra keeps telling me to stop worrying so hard about the future like I did with Matt, so that’s what I’m going to do.”

  “Good,” I say, clenching up. I think back to the first night I was with her, and I’m alm
ost ashamed of the feelings and visions that went through me then. I felt this inexplicable connection, like we might be soulmates. Clearly, I was getting ahead of myself, and I’m not going to do that again.

  “Another plantain?” I ask, picking up the appetizer bowl in the middle of the table.

  She takes one and bites it, keeping eye contact as she slowly chews into it. “Tasty.”

  “I can name something else that’s tastier.”

  She laughs. “Stop it. We’ve still got like six hours to go until we can get to your place tonight.”

  I lower my voice. “Well, you should probably try not to think about how you’re going to feel when I tie you up, then.”

  Her eyes widen. “You’d want to do that?”

  “With you? Yeah. I want to do everything.”

  “I’m really liking this mentorship thing we have going. Really learning a lot.”

  23

  April

  “Miss Abril, tú eres angél?” Fernando asks after I put the book down that I’ve been reading to him.

  My heart warms. Last week, after we finished the book about Roberto Clemente, Fernando couldn’t stop talking.

  He was asking me all about baseball, and if I know any baseball players.

  I said, well, yes and no.

  So this question isn’t as strange as it seems.

  “Am I an angel? No, no, Fernando. Why would you think that?”

  “You look like the elf woman with pointy ears from Lord of the Rings. We watched it this week for movie night.”

  I smile. “Well, thank you. And no, I’m not an angel, or an elf, for that matter. Here. Touch my ear. It’s normal, not pointy. See?”

  I brush my hair behind my ear and lean the side of my head toward him.

  The nine-year-old touches my ear with fascination. “Yes, it’s round. Okay. I believe you.”

  “You’re getting really good at reading these,” I tell him, sitting up on our bench outside the orphanage.

  He grins proudly. “I’ve been practicing. Doña Erma says that if I keep up my English, I’ll be able to get a good job someday.”

  “That’s good. You should listen to Doña Erma. She wants the best for you.”

  He nods, then tilts his head a little, while looking at me.

  “Miss Abril, do you have a family?”

  I nod. “I have a dad. My mom, unfortunately, died when I was a teenager.”

  “That’s so sad.”

  I mask the wave of heartache that passes through my body by smiling and running my hand through Fernando’s black hair. “Do you want to read another one?” I ask him, redirecting the conversation.

  He doesn’t answer. Instead, he stares out at the gates of the courtyard that lead to the outside world, then turns back to me.

  “Miss Abril, what’s it like to have a family?”

  A knot forms in my throat. It hits me for the first time that I don’t have the family I once did. How grateful I am for my dad, and how impossible it must be for children, like Fernando, who have neither.

  “Well, it’s nice, because family means you look out for the other people in your family no matter what. In life, sometimes you get down, and you need people to bring you back up. And sometimes other people get down, and they need you to bring them back up. It’s a balancing act.”

  He nods thoughtfully, as if really processing what I’m saying.

  I’ve always believed in talking to kids as if they were adults. With Fernando, that means just trying to give him the most full, honest answers to his questions.

  “Am I going to have a family some day?”

  I push my glasses up for a moment, pretending my eyes are itchy, while I rub the tears out of them so he doesn’t see. Then I turn back to him.

  “For some of us, our friends are our family. Sometimes, someone comes into your life for just a short period, but that doesn’t mean you can’t have an impact on them. Like me, I’m only here for ten weeks. But you have a lot of good people here.”

  “In the orphanage,” he emphasizes. “Is Erma my family?”

  I nod. “Yes, she is your family. She looks out for you.”

  “Okay, good.” He looks at me again. “Are you sure I can have a family someday, like a real one with kids and brothers and stuff?”

  I look over at Gabe, whom I brought here to read with me today. He’s laughing and high-fiving the little girl he’s reading with.

  Leave it to a child to ask all of life’s toughest questions in one sitting.

  “You can do anything you put your mind to if you work hard enough.” I pick up another book. “Oh, this one is good. Ready to read another?”

  He nods, and I open the first page to What Do You Do With an Idea.

  Nothing like a little kid to put your real problems into perspective.

  Back at my place later that night, I tell Morgan I’m busy tonight and can’t meet up.

  When I was chatting with Sandra this week about how everything was going, she was shocked at the amount of time we were spending together and told me I needed to remember my self-care routine.

  So tonight, after an early dinner with my host family, I go back to my coach house and draw a bath.

  I sprinkle in the blue Dead Sea salts she gave me, then light my scented eucalyptus candle.

  With the jade stone she gave me, I sit, yoga style in the hot water, close my eyes, and use the meditation she gave me while breathing deeply.

  Breathe deeply. Picture yourself opening the door to a garden.

  I open it, and it’s a soothing feeling. I see flowers, trees, and there’s an imaginary bench inside, so I go sit down on it.

  I rub the jade stone between my thumb and fingers, feeling myself going deeper into a trance.

  My mother appears in my mind and takes a seat beside me on the bench. I immediately feel her warmth.

  She’s as beautiful as I ever saw her, black hair and her confident, caring smile.

  “You’re happier now, I can tell,” she says. “But, my darling, you still don’t think you’re loveable.”

  “I think I need to change a few things about myself still.”

  “Change about yourself or grow into, April?”

  I turn toward a flower patch for just a moment, then look for her again, but she’s gone.

  “Mom?” I say, not worried or concerned, just feeling like she stepped out for a moment. “Where did you go?”

  When I spin in a different direction, Morgan appears.

  “Looking for someone?” he asks.

  “Uh, what are you doing here?”

  “Were you expecting someone else?”

  “Not exactly. But…you have to go. This is about me today.”

  He’s wearing a white collared shirt, unbuttoned. His tie is slung around his neck.

  He takes a few steps toward me, and I stand up, twisting my body around.

  “Not a chance of that happening.” I point my fingers at him, making wild gestures to encompass all of his manly glory.

  The tension in the air is thick. He steps into me and wraps his big hands around my waist.

  He kisses me. Then, sliding a hand down my torso, he reaches between my legs.

  “You’re always so wet for me. Why is that?”

  I feel his hard length pressing up against my side. “I can’t help it,” I whisper.

  My breaths begin to grow ragged and my pulse races…Why am I so wet…always so wet…warm, wet, water…I snap open my eyes.

  Meditation is officially over. I don’t know if that was what Sandra meant when she said, “just let your thoughts flow freely through your imagination.” It seems, my imagination has a one-track mind these days…flowing freely in the direction of my desire. Tiny beads of sweat have surfaced along my chest and at my hairline. The humidity from the steam has curled my hair a little. I'm thoroughly flushed.

  I reach for a tie to pull up my hair into a high, messy bun, needing to cool down, and notice my phone is illuminated on the side of the t
ub. A message.

  Morgan: Too bad we’re not hanging out tonight.

  April: Oh yeah? What did you have in mind?

  Morgan: A tasting menu…featuring all of the courses.

  April: Dessert first? ;)

  Morgan: Always. :)

  April: So…what's on the menu?

  Morgan: What can I have?

  April: It's Á la carte. Anything you want.

  Morgan: Well, then, I'd start with the amuse bouche, your mouth on mine. After I'm done sampling you, I'd want to enhance my palette with those ripe juices flowing from your sweet, hot...

  April: …? I'm not sure I'm clear.

  April: Can you describe it in better detail, so that I understand you completely.

  April: Trouble is, I'm in the bath, and I'm a bit hot and slippery from the steam. I want to make sure I understand the plan and don’t get too far ahead of myself.

  Morgan: You are naked in the bath right now?

  April: Si, mi capitán.

  Morgan: April...

  April: You caught me taking a nice long soak in the tub. And since I am a visual person, and a hands-on learner. As you know...I’d like to hear your exact plan to feast on me.

  Morgan: I’m going to fucking devour you.

  Morgan: I’m going to drain that warm water you are in, so your nipples are nice and responsive to the cool air as it settles over your entire body.

  Morgan: Next, I’ll push your legs up into your thighs, grabbing hold of your ass and tracing my tongue slowly along your pebbled skin, following with a trail of warning bites.

  April: Um, warning bites...for what?

  Morgan: To alert your tight and needy pussy that I'm coming hard for it.

  April: …. ….

  Morgan: You'll feel the heat from my breath against your neck, and before you can react, thrusting your hips and arching your back, like I know you want to…I will place my mouth on top of your delicate little clit and ravage her until you're begging for me to fuck you.

  I drop my phone down over the tub and onto the floor. I can’t take it anymore.

  Heat rips through my body. My fingers desperately find my release.

  24