A Potential Suitor

AMELIA

The next few days in the office, I noticed Blake looking over at me more. He brushed past me a lot and sat close to me when we ate lunch in the conference room.

He had even started to tell me a bit more about the case and ask more questions about my role. I was never sure what I was allowed to tell him, but I was never told I couldn’t speak about my job.

Connor asked if I could come in for some time on Saturday afternoon as there were more things to go through than they anticipated and with a date set for all the evidence to be in. They were on a tight deadline.

I reluctantly agreed. Not like I had a choice.

I turned up at 2 p.m. like they had asked, and their office was busy. No different to a weekday. Did these people not have lives away from work?

I knew my way around now, and people recognized me, so I didn’t have to wait for Blake or Connor to walk me through. I felt kind of special prancing down the thickly carpeted hallways with my trolley and box.

As I walked through Harrington, Epstein, and Walker, I headed straight to Blake’s office. He was sitting at his desk with his feet up. Full suit, even on a Saturday.

He smiled as I approached him, and I noticed he was on the phone. His door was open so I lingered.

“What you loitering out there for?” he shouted, so I walked in and took a seat on the sofa.

“Dad, I better go. The tyrant has just walked in, and she won’t be happy if I’m late.” He laughed.

He put the phone down and dropped his legs as he turned to me. “How about that, you’re here on time again.”

I ignored his dig. “Was that your dad?” I asked.

He nodded. “Yeah, he’s not doing so great at the minute.”

“Sorry to hear that, is he unwell?”

“Health problems. He’s got this thing that means we could lose him any time—no amount of money can make you healthy apparently.” He looked sad but he still smiled.

“Is he not in New York?”

“No, a couple of hours’ drive away. I don’t get to go much these days.”

“Hello, hello,” Connor interrupted, as he walked into the room with a laptop under his arm. He looked at us both as though he had just walked in on something he shouldn’t have.

“Everything okay?” he asked, quieter.

Blake and I nodded at the same time. Damn, I was so close to getting more info on his life away from the office.

“You have me until 8 p.m.,” Connor directed at Blake.

“Okay, you can tell the judge when we’re not ready on time that you couldn’t stay up past your 8 p.m. bedtime.”

Connor laughed. “No problem. I’m sure with my swift work, we will get through this.”

They were harsh in the legal sector. How did these people have a chance at a life away from work?

It was 8:35 p.m. when Connor jumped up. “I’m late,” he muttered. He started to shuffle his notes and box things up.

“Wouldn’t want to keep the missus waiting,” Blake said sarcastically.

“Maybe one day, Blake, maybe one day,” Connor chuckled as he patted Blake on the shoulder. Blake looked at me. I blushed and looked away. It was like a domino effect!

“Are we done?” I finally asked.

Blake took a deep breath in and looked at the box that was left to go through.

“Do you mind if we go on?” he asked. I rolled my eyes. I couldn’t help it. It was Saturday night, I was bored, and I was giving up drinks with friends for this.

“Please, we can take it to my place and get some food and drink,” he pleaded.

“To your apartment?” I asked.

“Yeah, at least then you’re not wasting your Saturday night. We can put the game on and get some nice food.”

I did want to see his apartment. I had been imagining it as a penthouse where you took the lift straight to it.

With the whole floor belonging to him and glass windows the length of it overlooking the city, just like in the films. I got excited just thinking about it.

So, I agreed to spend the evening with his sorry arse, as much as it put me out!

It wasn’t long before we stopped in the cab outside his apartment. I was pleasantly surprised; it was a building I had passed and admired many times.

It was a good few blocks from his office, but as he had said that first night, it was just across from the bar we had been in.

We got the lift up as he carried the heavy box without any discomfort. The lift stopped at the tenth floor. Not the penthouse then, and the lift didn’t take us straight there, either!

His apartment looked disappointingly standard from the door, but when he opened it, and I saw how grand it was, it took my breath away.

It was huge. You walked into a big open space that was his kitchen area. There were large windows at the end where his sofas and huge TV were placed, and it did have a great view of the city.

He had folding doors onto his balcony, which also had seating and a table.

I was pulled from my thoughts as he set the box down on his breakfast bar with a thud.

“Drink?” he asked.

“Sure, tea?” I replied casually, as my eyes darted around the place taking it all in.

“No, a real drink. Wine, champagne?”

“A wine will be fine,” I smiled, still unable to take my eyes off his view.

It was the first time I had got a glimpse of who Blake was. As the saying goes, a man’s home is his castle, and this is where he could be who he wanted. No power struggles or winning and losing, just Blake.

“Just make yourself at home,” he said, as he flicked the TV on and passed me the remote.

After he ordered us some food, I sat down on his extra comfortable sofa and flicked to the big game. Everyone in New York had been talking about this game.

I wasn’t interested, but Blake had mentioned it earlier, so I figured he might want to see the result. I was messing with my phone, sitting on his sofa, when I felt his presence behind me.

“Come on,” he shouted at the TV. “That’s a joke.” So, I guessed he did want to see the game!

He walked around and took a seat next to me. I looked up from my phone and smiled at him.

His arm was now on the back of the sofa behind me, and I could feel it brushing the back of my neck, making the small hairs stand to attention.

He had undone the top few buttons of his shirt and removed his tie, and he looked hot. I took a big gulp of my wine, trying to distract myself from my illicit thoughts.

They were bad thoughts, thoughts of him shirtless, thoughts of him and me, and they had been coming more and more frequently.

I had almost sunk a whole bottle of wine and was nursing the last glass so he didn’t think I was a lush.

“I bet you can’t wait to be done with me,” he said out of the blue.

“Heck no, I love missing nights out and working from 7 a.m. until 9 p.m.” I laughed.

“Well, you said yourself, I’m a tyrant.”

“The devil incarnate.” I giggled, and he laughed too as he nudged me playfully.

Then his face became more serious, and his eyes softened. “I like you, Amelia Earhart.” He thought for a moment before continuing. “You’re different.”

“Like British different?” I asked.

“No, weird different.”

“Gee thanks,” I replied. I don’t know why I was still smiling. He had just insulted me.

“Maybe I’m normal, and you and everyone else are the weird ones.” This was the best I could do under pressure! What does one reply to being told they are weird?

“Maybe.” He contemplated. “I think you are probably right. You remind me of an ex-girlfriend I had in high school. It was probably the best relationship I ever had.”

He was leaning in my direction now, his body twisted toward me.

Was he going to lean in to kiss me? Surely, he wasn’t going to tell me I’m weird then kiss me?

Our eyes locked for a few seconds, and when he didn’t make a move, I assumed I had read the body language wrong, but then he finally leaned in.

He took my face with both his hands and pressed his lips against mine. I was a little startled at first, and my brain took a few seconds to work out what was happening.

Then it caught up, and my lips parted as his tongue entered my mouth. His kiss was delicate and tender. Our bodies drew closer like we were magnets coming together.

I ran my hands over the back of his head, running my fingers through his hair while he started to wander my body.

The urge came like a rush from within. With passion, lust, and wine coursing through my veins, I moved on top of him, straddling him.

I could feel his arousal grow under me as he kissed my neck and worked his way down to my chest. He was gentle and delicate, but at the same time powerful and manly.

He pulled off the top I was wearing, and his hands ran over my breasts, cupping and kissing them. I’m not sure how long we were like this when he stood up with me still attached to him.

His hands cupped my arse, holding me up against his masculine body, and he walked in what I assumed was the direction of his bedroom.

“Wait,” I panicked, as I jumped off him to his surprise. He almost fell over before regaining his balance. He took a step away, then something pulled him back in, and his lips were once again crashing against mine.

Oh man, I had two choices here: Fuck the best-looking guy I would probably ever get the chance to or leave.

If I had wanted this though, I would have done it that first night we met. I didn’t know him then, I didn’t know him now, and after a few weeks, I would never see him again. Was I ready to have a one-night stand?

“No, sorry, I can’t do this,” I said, as I finally pulled away from him. His breath was as heavy as mine. We had both been caught up in the moment.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I don’t do one-night stands. I just can’t,” I replied.

I was thinking logically about this while trying to hold my inner animal from jumping back on his amazingly sculpted body.

Everything about him right now was luring me in: His body, his smell, and the way he smiled with those lips of his.

“Who said it was a one-night thing?”

“Come on Blake, you don’t do relationships.”

“I have, actually.”

“When, high school?”

“Ouch.”

“Come on, buster,” I said as I pulled my top back on. “Let’s call it a night.”