I shuffled across the wardrobe and brought out the maroon dress that I had recently bought.
"Amara!" He groaned, "I don't like to see your dresses."
I sighed. It was only the seventh dress that I was showing him. A sarcastic remark urged to flow through my mouth but I shut them tightly, so, I wouldn't irritate him further.
He clapped his hand, a bright smile on his face, "Let's start our session! Gotcha friend?"
He wasn't my friend, if you are thinking so. He was the most closest acquaintance than anyone else. But he was damned of calling me his friend. I had once told me, rather grumbled that I was not his friend but he had left me dumbstruck when he said that since he knew my life, he was a friend.
I completely disagreed.
"How are you feeling?" He squinted his eyes, suggestively as if I was transparent.
"Completely fine." I answered him, as I adjusted my laptop on the bed and sat in front of the camera.
Nario sighed and spoke in Italian, "Jesus Amara! So che c'è qualcosa o non avresti chiesto una seduta."
Of course, something was bothering me and I often forgot that he was my therapist. Damn his cheerful face and name.
"Just start with whatever you're feeling Amara." He said, expectedly.
I pause for a couple of seconds, thinking of how to start. Shaking my head and tying my messy hair in a loose bun, I lean on the headboard of the bed and look up at the ceiling.
"It's been years since you know, that incident." I begin, hoarsely, "Five years, actually. I've been cautious around men, especially around those who have are capable to make me, umm... my old self.
"But here, after years when I'm back in London, I met the one whom I should've avoided at all costs. He is simply beautiful. Yes, Nario. That's what I'm saying. He's not handsome, he's the epitome of perfectness. I tried to avoid him, believe me, but there's just something."
I pause, pinching the bridge of my brows. It was like I was explaining about the most beautiful dream, in a sleepy mystical state.
It was hard to come out. And Nario waited patiently.
Giving me time.
"It has been two to three weeks." I resume, "And we umm, got a little crazy yesterday. You know just kissing. He was perfect, the kiss was perfect. But something about him is not right. I can feel it, but I'm too afraid because we just kissed."
He leans against his chair, cocking his head to his right side.
"Beautiful huh?" He grins but quickly becomes serious, "It's okay, if you can't avoid it. You're a human being too and you also have feelings. It's not easy to keep them at control."
"But," I interrupt, shaking my head, "I know about the consequences, tipo. And I know, at last I'll be the one at fault."
"But it's okay." He assures me, "And are you sure about the last part?"
I think for a moment and nod, confirming.
"Are you sure, you aren't just being obsessive and thinking imaginary?"
I glared at him. I knew I shouldn't have said that there was something unsettling about the whole thing, because Nario straightly would have said it was my imagination.
"Hey Doc!" I snapped, "I know, what I'm saying. Okay?"
He glared back at me, "Hey, schemo, I'm your doctor and this is what a therapist does! He asks you to think about it a lot of times."
I rolled my eyes, and glared, "Sure, Dr. Esposito. That doesn't you can just say that. And I did-"
Click!
That damn bastard. He had again cut my call.
This was common. The fights between the Doc and me, which ensured a lot of glares and curses and finally followed by cutting my call off. Pretty common, indeed.
I glared at the computer, where now the home screen of skype was staring at me. I slammed my computer shut and groaned.
Dr. Nario Esposito was the best therapist in Italy. He was my personal one and always held sessions when I required. I couldn't afford to lose him, because except Leo and Ella, he was the only one who brought me out of my comfort zone. It was his job, though.
I groaned again and stretched my limbs. It was 9 o'clock in the morning and today was my day off, no schedule whatsoever, because Leo was arriving today. I purposely didn't set any meetings today.
Just as I got up from the bed, my phone rang with the beats of Elyotto's Sugarcrash!
"Hello?" Ella's tentative voice asked.
"Yes, Mom." I replied, scrunching my brows, "Why are you calling me here, you could've just come upstairs."
"Actually," I don't like where this is going, I thought, "I know you told, you didn't want to be disturbed today, querida, but a lady is sitting downstairs on the patio and bawling her eyes out.
"A lady?" My first thought was Nyla, "Doesn't matter. I'm coming down."
I wore a clean loose t-shirt but kept my shorts. Letting the messy bun as it was, I descended the stairs with my phone in hand.
No one was around, so, I rounded up the corner of the room and stepped on the patio.
There stood Ella with a concerned look in her eyes as she bent down to help the lady, unable to do so and then stood up again. She noticed me behind her and shook her head, in sadness. She sighed and left me alone with the bawling lady.
She didn't even tell me who was she.
"Hello, Miss?" I asked, hesitantly.
I was shocked was a little part to what I felt. Shock, surprise, confusion and sadness fell upon me as I registered her face.
Ms. Clarke, sat on the patio, looking at me with red teary eyes. The one who was confidently asking if I was a representative for the meeting, was crying in front of me, but the real question was why?
What made her like this?
"Ma'am!" Clarke stood up and hugged me, suddenly.
I blinked. I was still an influential person for God's sake. Did she just hug me?
"Umm." I stammered.
As if she just realized who she was hugging, she jerk back, her hands covering her tear-stained face with shock. She blinked and then cocked her head, and again jerked back.
I rolled my eyes, "Why are you behaving like that?"
She stammered, "I'm so sorry Ma'am. I got myself ahead for a minute."
I laughed and came forward, rubbing her dry tears swiftly from my thumb pad. Putting a hand around her shoulder, I urged her petite figure to come into the house.
She gasped, clearly in awe and surprise. Looking around the temporary house, she hesitantly sat on the sofa, as if she was worried that she might ruin it. I nearly laughed at her antics but her dry tear-stained face stopped me.
"What happened?" I asked giving her a glass of water.
I waited beside her on the sofa, as she quickly gulped down the glass of water. She fiddled with her fingers, her face becoming a dark shade of red and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She looked at me from the corner of her eyes, took a deep breath and finally spoke.
"I got fired." She whispered.
If this had been some other person, I would've said it's their own fault that they got fired. But here we were talking about Ms. Clarke. I wasn't quick at judging people but from that only day I remember, she was very confident and good at her work.
"Fired?" I asked thinking I heard wrong, "Who fired you?"
"Mr. Thompson." She whispered, sniffing a little.
"Vincent Thompson?" I frowned, "But I-"
She jerked her head up and shook her head vigorously, "No! Not Mr. Vincent Thompson. His brother."
I frowned more, my brows forming a line, perhaps. He has a brother?
"Kayden Phillips." She said, fiddling with her hands, "Mr. Thompson's step-brother."
Okay, now I was even more confused. How, can they be step brothers and have different surnames? The more important question was why did this Kayden Phillips fire Ms. Clarke.
Ms. Clarke. Ugh.
"I'm sorry, Ms. Clarke but what's your first name?" I asked, cocking my head.
She blushed and replied nervously, "Fiona, Ma'am."
"Address me as Amara, Fiona." I chuckled, "Ma'am makes me feel very old and besides we are acquaintances outside work."
She nodded vigorously. Only then I registered her state. She was wearing her office suit and heels, because of her petite form. Besides that, her hair was in loose messy strands and her face was of course, as expected, tear-stained.
"What happened? You can now tell me." I asked raising my brows.
"As usual I was finishing a Spreadsheet." She began, "When suddenly Kayden Phillips, That bast- Oh! I'm sorry!" I dismissed her curses and she resumed.
"He flirted with every girl, he saw. and he did the same with me. But I had to finish the important Spreadsheet within a few minutes, so, I shouted at him to leave me alone, and to my surprise then, he had compiled.
"But the next minute, I was fired."
"But how can he fire you? It's Mr. Thompson's right, isn't it?" I asked, incredulously.
She nodded, "I'm not sure of that 'how' part but he himself fired me."
I blinked, "And why did you come at me?"
Her petite figure shivered and she blushed again, "I don't know. You were the first thought that came to my mind when I got fired and I had your address in London in your personal file."
I nodded. But did that make any sense? Probably not.
But I let it go.
"I'll talk to your former boss and sort it out." I replied, standing up.
She shook her head, "No! I mean I loved that job but Mr. Phillips is an employee there and even if I get employed again, I do not have even the slightest interest to see him."
"Then what are you proposing, Fiona?"
"You can talk with Mr. Thompson about what actually happened and how but I would like to work for you."
Now that made totally sense.
Fiona was confident, I was certain. It would be my benefit if she worked for me. But in what position? If this was Italy, I would've happily given her a job but this is, unfortunately London and I, myself am a temporary here.
"I don't have any position to offer." I answer.
But before she can blabber, I add, "But I would like to see your resume and then decide."
She claps her hands, in what I would say when children get excited and stands up.
I frown quizzically, "What's with the sudden energy?"
"I would like to hand over my resume, gladly," But her face quickly forms into guilt, "I'm fine but to keep my energy running, I would like to umm, freshen up."
I chuckle, "Of course."
"Go to your home." I add, "Freshen up because it's nearly noon. Then bring your resume tomorrow at 8 o'clock in the morning. I have some important matters to handle today and I have another meeting from 10 AM tomorrow."
Today's important matter was only allotted for Leo and tomorrow, a conference call with some Italian designers were scheduled.
She nodded, happily. A bright smile lit her face and as quickly as she came, she waved at me and went away.
I sighed, again tired.
Vincent's kiss and its aftereffects had drained me a lot. I had decided not to think about that but it was even more tiring. Moreover, Fiona Clarke in spite of being a good woman, it was beyond my limits to keep up with her energy.
As if she was always surrounded by a cheerful aura.
Within the next three hours, I took a bath, went through some designs and modified them, listened to my favorite R&B songs and finally read e-books.
I must say, I wasn't extremely talented. I am neither boastful nor too humble. That was my honesty speaking.
But my hands were good.
In sex, yes, they were extremely wonderful. But no, I wasn't speaking of that. My hands had made my company's first designs. Besides with good hands, I loved kinky erotica. For example, I can read Jade West's books for a trillion times and never get bored. I just loved sex and of course, music.
Just when I was in an engrossing gangbang where Gemma, the chubby girl letting the dudes fill all her holes, loud footsteps echoed through the room. I waited, expectantly and in the next moment, the door burst open.
Before I could blink or sit up from my relaxing position, he engulfed me in a bear hug.
"I-I can't br-breathe!" I gasped.
Leo looked at me sheepishly as he gave me air but still held me by my shoulders. I rolled my eyes, and yes, breathed hastily at the same time.
"Girl!" Leo shook me, then kissed me on the cheek, "I missed you!"
I rolled my eyes, "Yeah, I missed you too."
He pouted at my blank face, "You should be happy to see me."
I was happy to see him but he didn't need to know that. But my traitorous face betrayed me, and a big happy smile lit my face.
He laughed, "You missed me too!"
I stood up and pushed him out of the room, and slammed the door straight on his face.
"I miss you, Weirdo!" I yelled, smiling to myself, "Freshen up and then we'll talk."
I could imagine him grumbling and cursing me under his breath, or maybe gritting his teeth and stomping on the floor, or maybe both. I grinned as his footsteps descended after a while.
When I just went to the part of the end of gangbang, Leo kicked the door open with a loud slam. I looked that way and then ignored him. He huffed and I grinned to myself. Then, before he could sit, I engulfed him in a hug, and tackled him, mercifully.
"I know you missed me and probably have lots to talk about while I was gone, but believe this is more important."
His voice wasn't of annoyance, in fact it was very serious. I gave him space, straightened my posture and looked at him curiously. If this matter could make Leo this serious, then it was of utmost importance.
"Go on." I said, waiting.
"My Girl," He breathed, "Our rivals had sent people to collect information on you, with a photo of yours."
"What?" I shrieked, "But how? In Italy except my closest acquaintances, no one knows my face!"
It was true. The world knew that the CEO of Chiara Designs was a female but no one knew my face or any personal information. I avoided scandals, avoided the Media and it was a strict NDA policy in my empire, my office to not disclose my identity.
And that made it a lot of simpler. I didn't need Leo to answer my question.
Which meant my Rival was my closest to me, perhaps, one of my acquaintances.
"The Russo Mafia informed me and they have been keeping track. We may find them the next day or maybe never."
"We'll find them, Leo." I said with determination.
It was a promise to myself as well as my empire, along with Rival. My opponent wouldn't know what I was capable of and if he did, he made a big mistake.
A very big fucking mistake, you motherfucking Rival!