“Now?” I squelch my little prickle of worry. So far, everything they’ve done has been amazing. I have every reason to expect that anal sex will be fantastic as well.
“Just my fingers for the moment,” he says. “But soon, impatient one. Soon it’ll be our cocks, one in your pussy, one buried tight in your ass. Would you like that?”
My nipples are bullets of need, my pussy is dripping with the proof of my desire. The answer to Sebastian’s question is yes. Yes, yes and yes once again.
23
One may smile, and smile, and be a villain.
William Shakespeare, Hamlet
Sebastian:
It feels amazing to wake up Tuesday morning with Bailey’s soft body curled up between Daniel and me, naked and very tempting. Morning sex is phenomenal as well, and the simple pleasure of making her a plate of scrambled eggs makes me realize how personal the act of cooking is when you feed someone you care about.
She rushes away after breakfast, back to her apartment to get changed before heading to work. Daniel leaves as well, leaving me sitting at the kitchen table, filled with a sense of contented well-being, until I make the mistake of checking my email on my phone.
Then my good mood evaporates. A scathing review of Seb New York, a note from Helen that she thinks someone’s stealing from Seb II’s kitchens, and worst of all, Juliette’s set up a meeting with the franchise investors at ten-thirty, and it’s nine-thirty now. I’m going to have to hustle to get there on time.
I call her, wondering why I’m so reluctant to move this deal forward. Juliette’s absolutely right - time is of the essence in these kinds of deals.
“I might be late,” I warn her when she picks up. “I’m juggling multiple crises, Juliette. This is a horrible time for this meeting… Next time, give me a bit more of a heads-up.”
“I admire you for making time for what you think is important,” she says snidely. I frown for a second, wondering what on earth she’s talking about, and then my attention is distracted by another incoming call. It’s Katya, the restaurant manager at Seb New York. I quickly promise Juliette I’ll be there, and switch to Katya, muttering a curse under my breath. Ever since I promoted Ben to be the sous-chef at Seb II, we’ve been lurching about from one crisis to another, and I don’t have the time to baby my chefs.
Sure enough, Katya’s calling about Ben. “Sebastian,” she says when I pick up, “Ben hasn’t shown up for prep.”
“What the absolute fuck?” I swear into the phone, glancing at my watch again to confirm the time. Yes, it’s still nine-thirty. If Ben doesn’t show up soon, we won’t have enough time to set up for the dinner crowd. “You’ve tried calling him?”
“Of course,” she replies, sounding offended. “I do know how to do my job.”
Damn it. Ben’s either passed out from drinking or nursing a killer hangover, and I don’t care which one. He’s the sous-chef at a restaurant that has two Michelin stars, and he’s not at work. Daniel’s advice to fire him sounds increasingly attractive. “Okay, Katya. I’ll be back to the restaurant as soon as I can, but in the meanwhile, can you call Helen? She’ll figure out what to do.”
Mentally, I resolve to give Helen a raise. Every restauranteur in the world is sniffing around my staff, and Helen can work anywhere she wants. The fact that she’s still with me speaks testaments to her loyalty and friendship. I might have had shitty parents, but I’ve been more than fortunate in my friends.
* * *
An hour later, I’m still trying to reach Ben as I wait with Juliette in a beige conference room in some nondescript office building in Greenwich Village. I’ve had to scramble to get here on time from Daniel’s Upper East Side townhouse. As a result I’m wearing the same black t-shirt and jeans that I wore last night, and I’m not happy about it. Damn Juliette. It wouldn’t have killed her to give me more notice. “I’m not too casually dressed, am I?” I ask, my phone pressed against my ear.
She shrugs. “It isn’t your suit they are interested in.”