The Transaction
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Belle Reeves (with S. S. Sahoo)
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131K
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13
Chapter 1
AMELIA
I stumbled right into the guy’s lap.
The stage lights were brightening, but the luxury box was still shrouded in darkness and I was struggling with my heels. I gasped in surprise, and his cologne hit me like a wave. It was a scent that was almost familiar, but with a unique masculine twist.
The concert hall boasted about its luxury boxes and I had to agree, this was the most comfortable seat I’d ever had.
He was firm, warm, and muscular, yet relaxed, at least for a moment. Then his body stiffened as he recovered from the shock of me landing on him, and he gently pushed me away.
His hands were gentle, applying just the right amount of pressure on my arms as he lifted me and placed me in the seat next to him that I’d been aiming for.
“I am so sorry,” I whispered into his ear. He flinched slightly.
“It’s fine,” he said, his voice strained, indicating that it wasn’t fine at all.
I turned my attention to the orchestra. I was here for the music, not to make friends. And as the first note played, I forgot all about my embarrassment.
Whether I was in a luxury box or the worst seat in the house, the music always transported me to a different world.
And I desperately needed that escape that night.
BRADLEY
She fell right into my lap. Literally. If I were the type to pray, which I’m not, I would have taken that as a sign.
She overwhelmed my senses. Her wild hair covered my face for a moment, forcing me to breathe her in. She smelled like candy.
And she felt like heaven. Like her ass was made for my lap.
I couldn’t even see her, but I was instantly aroused and pushed her away before she could notice. I clenched my teeth as she practically whispered into my ear.
The orchestra was settling down, waiting in anticipation for the conductor to lift his baton, but I wasn’t watching the stage. I was staring at the woman sitting next to me.
I was still watching her when the lights suddenly came on for intermission. She turned to me, her soft brown eyes sparkling, her curls framing her beautiful face. She looked at me so openly, so directly.
“I didn’t think I was going to get lucky tonight, did you?”
“Excuse me?” Was she hitting on me?
“With these tickets. They never put the luxury boxes on the Wishlist.”
“Wishlist?”
“You know, when seats aren’t filled, they give them out for free to the public. It’s a great program. It benefits everyone. No performer wants to play to an empty house.
“And a lot of cultural venues talk about diversity and inclusion, but you can’t just level the playing field, you have to level the audience.”
She shook her head. “Okay, that metaphor isn’t the best, but you get what I mean.”
She looked at me as if she was seeing me for the first time. “How did you get your tickets if not from the Wishlist, do you volunteer?”
“In a way,” I said.
“I do, too, with the outreach program. But things are just crazy right now, I can’t get enough hours for the free tickets.”
She yawned. I looked at her more closely and noticed the dark circles under her eyes. Some of it was makeup, maybe applied in a hurry or smudged. But some of it was clearly exhaustion.
It made me feel protective of her; it also made me want to keep her up at night.
She placed her hand on my thigh and I reacted instantly. I was glad the program was resting on my lap. And I realized that she didn’t even know she was touching me.
“Can I see your program for a sec?” she asked.
“Maybe later,” I said, a bit too sharply. I’d rather she thought I was rude than a creep who got turned on by a simple touch. I pretended to be engrossed in the program. From the corner of my eye, I saw her lips turn down. I’d upset her and I felt a pang of guilt.
I got the distinct impression that money was tight for her. Not just because she was on the list for free tickets, but also by the way she was dressed. She wore a formfitting tank top, a baggy sweater, and what looked like a tablecloth fashioned into a skirt.
It was the most bizarre outfit I’d ever seen, but nothing could look bad on a woman like her.
But she would have looked even better without it. And that was all I could think about during the second half of the performance.
AMELIA
I didn’t enjoy the second half of the concert as much as the first. The guy was gorgeous. He had a jawline that looked like it was chiseled from stone, dark eyes, and jet-black hair that fell over his forehead.
That lock of hair was the only thing about him that seemed slightly out of place. Otherwise, he was so well put together, it looked like his suit had been freshly ironed. His tie was straight, his dress shirt crisp and white.
He was incredibly attractive. He was also a jerk. I guess he didn’t appreciate people falling on him. And then, I made it even worse.
I love Brahms, but it’s no coincidence that people play his music to lull their kids to sleep. I was exhausted, the music was beautiful, and I hadn’t slept at all the previous night and…
I woke up with a sigh. My head was resting on a firm, warm pillow that smelled amazing. The room was getting brighter. I didn’t know where I was, and then suddenly, I did.
I lifted my head from the guy’s shoulder. There was a dark spot on his suit jacket. I had drooled on him!
“Did you sleep well?” he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
“I’m so sorry!” I blurted out, sitting up and wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. I tried to mop up the wet spot on his jacket with the only thing I could reach—the edge of my skirt.
I looked up at him. His jaw was set, teeth gritted, but his eyes were wide. I followed his gaze to my thighs, which were now fully exposed as I tried to clean his shoulder.
Quickly, I smoothed my skirt back down. He took a deep, slow breath, like he was trying to keep his cool.
“I’m really, really sorry,” I repeated.
“Don’t worry about it,” he managed to say through his clenched teeth. He extended an arm to check his watch. It looked like it was made of gold. I had no idea at the time that it actually was.
“Oh my gosh, look at the time! I’m going to miss my bus.” I stood up so fast that I stumbled into him again. This time, he caught me around the waist, keeping me from falling.
I practically sprinted for the bus. I made it with time to spare, but I just wanted to put some distance between us.
As the bus pulled away from the curb, I realized I didn’t even know his name. But that was probably for the best. After that disaster, I doubted he’d ever want to know mine.
BRADLEY
She dashed off like a clumsy Cinderella, not leaving a shoe or anything else behind. Though, given her clumsiness, I wouldn’t have been surprised if she had. She was a beautiful mess.
I’m a man who appreciates order and neatness, but there was something intriguing about her whirlwind nature. I didn’t know her name, but I was determined to find out.
Before leaving the concert hall, I sought out the manager. “Could you tell me who you gave my box tickets to?” I asked.
Robin looked apologetic. “I’m sorry, Mr. Knight, I don’t usually do that, but you said you wouldn’t be here.”
“I asked you who was sitting next to me,” I reminded her.
“Amelia Donovan,” she said quickly. “She practically works here. I wouldn’t give those seats to just anyone. She does so much here or used to before…” She seemed to catch herself and stopped rambling.
“I made an exception, Sir. I promise you it won’t happen again.”
“And if I wanted it to?” I asked.
Her eyes went wide.
“Make sure she gets that seat for the rest of the season. If you could let her know, I’d appreciate it.”
“You can tell her tomorrow. She’ll be presenting a project to the advisory board.”
