CHAPTER 3: RECKLESS

EVELYN

Richard's car is exactly what I expected. A sleek black Mercedes with leather seats that probably cost more than my entire wardrobe. A driver opens the door for us, and I slide inside, very aware of how short my dress is.

Richard climbs in next to me, maintaining a careful distance. The driver pulls into traffic without being told where to go, which means this is planned. Richard knew I would say yes.

That should bother me but it doesn’t.

"Where are we going?" I ask.

"The Mondrian. I have a suite there."

Of course he does. This man screams money and power. I should ask what he does, make small talk, pretend this is normal. But nothing about tonight is normal.

"Tell me something," Richard says, his eyes on me in the dim light of the car.

"Like what?"

"Whatever you want. Surprise me."

I think about it. "I hate surprises."

"Why?"

"Because they're never good. At least, they haven't been for me."

"Bad experiences?"

"The worst. Four days ago I surprised my fiancé by coming home early from a business trip."

Richard's expression does not change, but something flickers in his eyes. "And?"

"And I found him in bed with my cousin."

"Your cousin." It is not a question, just a statement, flat and cold.

"Yep. Apparently they've been sleeping together for four months. So yeah, surprises aren't really my thing anymore."

The car pulls up to the Mondrian Hotel. The driver opens the door and Richard steps out, offering me his hand. I take it, and he does not let go as we walk through the lobby. People turn to look at us, or maybe just at him. He has that kind of presence.

We take the elevator to the top floor. The penthouse level. Of course.

Richard's suite is massive. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Los Angeles, a living room bigger than my entire apartment, a bar in the corner, and through an open doorway I can see a bed that looks like it belongs in a magazine.

"Drink?" Richard asks, already heading to the bar.

"Sure."

He pours two glasses of whiskey and hands me one. I take a sip and the liquid burns all the way down.

"Good?"

"Strong."

"That's the point." He sets his glass down and steps closer to me. "We don't have to do this, Evelyn. I can call my driver, have him take you home."

"Is that what you want?"

"No. I want you to stay. But I need you to be sure."

I look at him, really look at him. This stranger who is offering me a way to forget everything, even if just for one night. There is something in his eyes, a loneliness that matches the empty feeling inside me.

"I'm sure."

He takes the glass from my hand and sets it next to his. Then his hand comes up to cup my face, his thumb brushing across my cheek.

"You're beautiful."

"You don't have to say that."

"I don't say things I don't mean."

Then he kisses me, and it is nothing like kissing Anthony. Anthony's kisses were always tentative, seeking approval. Richard kisses like he knows exactly what he wants and is not afraid to take it.

His hands slid down my back, finding the zipper of my dress. He pauses.

"Yes?" he asks against my lips.

"Yes."

The zipper slides down. The dress falls to the floor, leaving me in just my underwear and heels. I should feel exposed, vulnerable. Instead, I feel powerful.

Richard steps back to look at me, his eyes dark with desire.

"Perfect," he whispers.

Then he is kissing me again, walking me backward toward the bedroom. We fall onto the bed together, and his hands are everywhere, learning my body with an attention Anthony never showed.

"Tell me what you like," Richard says, his mouth against my neck.

"I don't know."

He pulls back to look at me. "What do you mean?"

I flush, embarrassed. "I've only been with Anthony. And he never really asked what I liked."

Something dangerous flashes in Richard's eyes. "Then we'll figure it out together."

What happens next is like nothing I have ever experienced. Richard is patient but demanding, gentle but intense. He takes his time, paying attention to every sound I make, every movement. When I tell him something feels good, he does it again. When I gasp or arch into him, he makes note.

He learns my body like it is a language he is determined to speak fluently.

By the time we finally come together, I am trembling and desperate. And when I fall apart in his arms, I forget my name, forget Anthony, forget everything but the feeling of being completely and utterly alive.

After, we lie tangled together, my head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat slowly.

"You okay?" Richard asks, his hand stroking my hair.

"More than okay."

"Good."

I should feel awkward. This is a stranger. I do not even know his last name. But instead, I feel safe, which is crazy.

"Can I ask you something?" I say.

"Anything."

"Why were you at Oasis tonight?"

"Business dinner. It ended early and I was about to leave when I saw you."

"And?"

"And I couldn't leave. You looked like you were fighting a battle with yourself, and I wanted to know who would win."

"Who did win?"

He tilts my face up to look at him. "The brave part of you. The part that says yes to what you want instead of what you should do."

"Is that a good thing?"

"I think it is. But then again, I'm biased. I got to meet you because of it."

I smile, surprised that I can. A few hours ago, I thought I would never smile again.

"I should probably go soon," I say, even though I do not want to.

"Why?"

"Because this was supposed to be one night. A way to forget. If I stay longer, it becomes something else."

"Would that be so bad?"

Yes. No. I do not know anymore.

Richard's phone buzzes on the nightstand. He ignores it.

It buzzes again.

"You should get that," I say.

"It can wait."

But it keeps buzzing, insistent. Finally, Richard sighs and reaches for it.

"I'm sorry. I have to take this."

"It's okay."

He kisses my forehead and gets out of bed, pulling on his pants. I watch him walk to the window, phone pressed to his ear.

"What is it, Benjamin?" His voice is sharp, all business.

I cannot hear the other side of the conversation, but Richard's expression grows darker.

"No. Tell him I'll deal with it tomorrow. Yes, I'm sure. Goodbye, Benjamin."

He ends the call but stays at the window, staring out at the city lights.

"Everything okay?" I ask.

"Work. Always work."

"What do you do?"

He turns to look at me. "I run an investment firm. Westwood Enterprises."

The name sounds familiar, but I cannot place it. Probably one of those companies that is always in the business section of the newspaper.

"Sounds important."

"It keeps me busy. Too busy, most days." He comes back to bed, sliding under the covers next to me. "But tonight, I don't want to think about work. Tonight, I just want this. You."

He pulls me close, and I let him. Tomorrow I will go back to reality. Tomorrow I will face the mess of my broken engagement and my shattered plans.

But tonight, I am just Evelyn. Not someone's fiancée or someone's employee or someone's disappointment.

Just Evelyn.

I wake up to sunlight streaming through the windows and an empty bed. I sit up, disoriented, and spot a note on the pillow next to me.

*I had to take a call. Coffee is in the kitchen. Help yourself to whatever you need. - R*

I should wait for him to come back. I should at least say goodbye. But the awkwardness of the morning after is creeping in, and I do not want to ruin the perfect memory of last night with uncomfortable small talk.

I get dressed quickly, smoothing down my wrinkled black dress. My heels are by the door where I kicked them off. I found my clutch on the bar.

In the kitchen, there is indeed fresh coffee, along with pastries from some expensive bakery. I grab a croissant and pour coffee into a to-go cup, feeling only slightly guilty about the theft.

Then I slip out of the suite and take the elevator down to the lobby. The same driver from last night is waiting by the entrance.

"Miss? Mister Westwood asked me to take you wherever you need to go."

Of course he did. Even in absence, Richard is thorough.

"Silver Lake. I'll give you the address."

The drive takes twenty minutes. I spend it looking out the window, replaying last night in my mind. The way Richard looked at me. The way he touched me. The way he made me feel like I was the most important thing in the world.

It was perfect. Which is exactly why I need to leave it in the past.

The car pulls up to my building. I thank the driver and head upstairs. Tonia is asleep on my couch, clearly having let herself in with the spare key I gave her.

She wakes up when I close the door.

"Evie! Oh my god, I was so worried. I stayed here all night in case you came back."

"I'm fine. I'm sorry I didn't text."

She looks at me over, taking in my rumpled dress and the coffee cup. "So you really did it. You went home with a stranger."

"I did."

"And?"

"And it was amazing. He was amazing."

Tonia squeals and pulls me down onto the couch. "Tell me everything."

So I do. I tell her about Richard, about the suite, about how he made me feel beautiful and wanted and alive. I leave out the more private details, but I tell her enough that she is grinning by the end.

"Evie, this is huge. You never do stuff like this."

"I know. It was crazy."

"Good crazy?"

"The best crazy."

"Are you going to see him again?"

I shake my head. "No. It was one night. That's all it was supposed to be."

"But what if it could be more?"

"Tonia, I just got out of a three-year relationship. The last thing I need is to jump into something with someone I barely know."

"Okay, fine. But can I just say? The universe gave you a gift last night. A gorgeous, rich, attentive man who made you forget about Anthony the Asshole. That's pretty special."

She is right. It is special..but that is exactly why I need to leave it alone. Perfect things do not last. I learned that the hard way.

My phone rings. I pull it out and I panic. 

"It's my boss."

"On a Saturday morning?"

I answer the call. "Hello, Mister Foster?"

"Evelyn, good morning. I hope I'm not catching you at a bad time."

"No, it's fine. What's up?"

"I have excellent news. We just landed the Westwood Enterprises account. It's our biggest client yet. And I want you to lead the project."

My heart stops. "Westwood Enterprises?"

"Yes. We're presenting our initial marketing strategy to their CEO next week. This could be huge for your career, Evelyn. Are you interested?"

I cannot breathe. Westwood Enterprises. Richard's company. Richard.

"Evelyn? Are you there?"

"Yes. Sorry. Yes, I'm interested. Very interested."

"Wonderful. I'll send you the details Monday morning. Enjoy the rest of your weekend."

He hangs up. I stare at my phone in shock.

Tonia is watching me with concern. "What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"That man from last night, owns Westwood Enterprises."

"Okay, so?"

"So I'm about to become his marketing director. I'm going to be working with him."

"Wait…The hot stranger you slept with is about to become your client?"

I nod, my mind racing.

Tonia starts laughing. "Oh my god, Evie. Only you could sleep with someone and then have to face them in a boardroom a week later."

"This isn't funny!"

"It's a little funny."

It is not, it's a disaster but there is nothing I can do about it now except prepare the best presentation of my life and hope that Richard is professional enough to pretend we have never met.

How hard can that be?