The Spark
Auteur·e
Mabu D
Lectures
259K
Chapitres
19
Plum is a boss—literally. She grew her event business to extraordinary heights. She’s not so lucky in love, though. Freshly broken up with her long-term love who wasn’t fond of her new body, she’s met with a spark from the past. Damien has had his share of luck in business too, to the point of owning his own building with his friend and partner. The love of his life, who he realized too late, had been set to wed—until now. Unfortunately, he’s got his own wedding plans. Will their sexy chemistry overcome all that’s stacked against them? Neither knows, but they’re sure having fun in the bedroom while finding out.
Age Rating: 18+
Routine Check
Plum
It’s so beautiful! I think. The sunrise, that is. I’m in a high-rise building in a penthouse, and yes, I own it. It’s all mine, baby.
I metaphorically pat myself on my shoulder and give myself a hug. Crossing my arms, I turn to look at my surroundings. The sunrise shines on my queen-size bed with white sheets—empty with no life in them.
I frown, and I imagine him.
He’s sleeping there, with his muscle-bound chest uncovered; lean, molded abs; and sweet, sexy face.
Hmmm, the sheets are barely covering him. It looks like we just had one hell of a time, and I feel satisfied that I’m the reason he’s passed out like that on my bed.
I blink again, and just like that, the perfect image of him is gone. I sigh.
I really wish he was here with me. I wonder, if only for a while, how things would have been if he had chosen me long ago, given us a chance, you know?
I feel an ache in my chest, making me feel uneasy. My stomach turns, and I just feel sad. Tears build up because that thought reminds me of how lonely I am and, most of all, how much I miss him.
I wonder if he misses me.
My alarm goes off, distracting me and taking me out of my sadness. I grab my phone and check what’s on the agenda today. I sniffle back all my tears.
I’m an early bird by nature. No matter how late I go to sleep, I am always up early. I rush to go shower, turning on the knobs, and the water springs to life.
I love hot showers no matter what season it is. They always seem to calm down my anxiety. I know, right? I’ve had a lot of issues in my past life, and I have been through the most.
I wash my hair today because I want to straighten it and let it flow. The clients for today seem to be monied, and I need them to spend every last cent they possibly can. It’s part of the job.
I grew up in a female-dominated family. If there is one thing I have learned from them growing up the way I did, it is to not depend on anyone for anything.
If you are kind, sweet, or overall just want to be good to people, they will take advantage of your good nature. They will walk over you and make you a fool if you let them.
I learned that lesson a long time ago. If you don’t depend on anyone, they can’t hurt you. You still have control. It’s easy to see who in your circle cares about you and who is there because they want to use you.
I have worked relentlessly to get where I am now. I hustle to get what I want, and I pity the fool who gets in my way.
I dry myself up and let myself into my walk-in closet. I look into the mirror and smirk; but then I turn around, and those negative thoughts start to creep up—the bad ones.
You know the “I’m not good enough,” “who’s going to love somebody like me,” “will I ever find the one, the one who wants all of me, not just my body, whether big or small?” thoughts?
I feel empty now thinking about this—great. God, I need to catch a break. I breathe in and out and look at the mirror again.
I have medium-length hair, and my skin is caramel. I have teardrop-shaped DD boobs. The top part of my body is a size 38, and the bottom part of me is a size 40.
I’ve got an ass for days. Hips and thighs are curvy in the right places—nice and round and intact.
I honestly work out when I can. I have a cute tummy that behaves in some clothing, and in some, well, I just cross my fingers and hope the world doesn’t see.
It’s currently 7 a.m., and I am ready to go—my hair is flowing as it should, and I am wearing a navy blue tight spandex dress that accentuates my lower body.
We don’t want to overwhelm the world with all these assets, now do we? Ha ha ha!
As if on cue, my PA calls.
“Hey, Miss Plum.”
“Hey, Eva,” I answer.
“I hope you are well and ready for today; we’ve got a few clients lined up for you. One particular client, though, requested a meeting at, um…6 p.m. sharp.
“It’s a corporate account, not an individual one, and their budget for their upcoming event is out of this world.
“I wanted to confirm with you if you will make it. Their assistant is very persistent. She keeps calling, needing confirmation.”
I sigh in defeat. “Excuse me, Eva—did you say 6 p.m.?”
“Yes, ma’am. I know it’s not your usual time to meet clients but… ummmm… I figured you would be up for this one.”
“What?!” I yell.
“Owww,” she says, uncertainty and fear laced in her voice.
“‘Owww’?! You know this is a rule of mine. I expect you to know it the best out of my whole team!” I yell. “I don’t meet anyone after working hours—no matter what!
“I don’t understand. What’s not clear about that? You should know this by now, Eva—this is unacceptable!’
“But, Miss Plum, I just sent you the quote. Look at how much they’re willing to spend. It’s ridiculous, even for the industry we’re in, for heaven’s sake.”
I flinch like someone just slapped me. Can you believe the disrespect? “Can’t you have Maggie meet them?”
Maggie is my partner, and we share all responsibilities equally.
“I did ask, and the assistant insisted on the meeting being with you alone, Miss Plum. I can come along if you need more support since I am the one breaking your routine.”
“Why would I bring you along? You’ve already messed up—big time! I don’t like this, especially when you plan my life without my consent”—I peek over the quote and smirk—“but I’ll do it, just this once!”
“Yayyy!”
“But I’m fuckin’ warning you—this better not happen again, no matter how much they’re willing to pay. We meet on my terms, or we don’t meet at all. It’s a principle I don’t break for anybody, are we clear Eva?’ I growl.
“Yes, ma’am, we are crystal clear.”
“Good.” I hang up.
I get my things together, wear my nude four-inch heels, and grab my handbag.
As I am walking out to the elevator, I decide I want to be driven today—Eva killed my good vibe. I call my driver to have him meet me by the lobby.
I head out of the building and into the car, and he drives me to headquarters.
