Sealed With A Kiss

12

"GREAT! WE'LL get all the details sorted out, but I'm happy that you finally made up your mind," did I have a choice?

"I'll leave a week before Christmas. Might as well spend the holidays with my family," I said.

"I'll be honest, the Chicago office really needs you right now. We just got a multi-million dollar divorce case, and the client said that they want you, and only you," McConnon explained.

"That's why you've been so adamant about it. Why didn't you tell me that to begin with?"

"The client only contacted me yesterday evening. It's like you're meant to be in Chicago."

"Does this mean that I have to move even sooner?"

"It's possible. You have to fly out this weekend to have a meeting with her. And you'll see what you have to do from there."

"I COME with gifts," Delia walked in with a bag of takeout, and a bottle of wine. I closed the door, and followed her into the kitchen. It's like she's been here a million times already. But it was only her second time.

"Good, I'm starving," I said.

"I hope you like Thai. Do you have a corkscrew?"

I grabbed the bottle opener from a kitchen drawer, and handed it to her, "you're here alone?" I raised my brow. I wouldn't have been surprised if Maxwell was standing outside, with an empty glass pressed against my door, listening to our conversation.

She popped the seal of the bottle, and rested it onto the counter, "darling, he's nowhere around, I promise," she reached for my hand, and placed a kiss on the back of my palm. All of the blood in my body surrounded my cheeks. She grinned and began to take the boxes out of the bag.

I hastily grabbed wine glasses from the cupboard, while trying to hide my excitement. Every hair on my body was standing, even the ones on my pussy. I purposely didn't shave so that I'd be reluctant to get naked. It was something that I'd done on many occasions when I didn't want to give out too soon.

I'd never been tempted to have sex with a woman before—not someone that it could actually happen with. I'd seen lots of beautiful women that I couldn't stop staring at. But that was mostly because I wished that I looked like them—because of envy. Was it more than that? Maybe I'd always been attracted to women. And just mistook my attraction for jealousy. That's a fucking revelation.

"How's work for you? Anything interesting?" I asked. She leaned against the counter and sighed. I know that feeling—when work's a bitch.

"The head of my marketing team suggested that I get lip injections."

"What? Why?" Her lips looked perfectly fine to me—more than fine. They looked so soft and supple. And I'd been imagining what they felt like, since the night we met. Well, when I met her, since she knew me priorly.

"For the sake of the brand, they say," she frustratedly threw her hands up in the air. It seemed to really bother her.

"You're the face of the brand, so they want to display a type of perfection that isn't natural, to get consumers to think your lip products are so great, that they give you beautiful, big lips."

She looked at me with narrowed eyes, "are you yoda? That's exactly what—"

"I'm just an average woman, who finds herself envious of the way models look, when in fact, it's mostly fake. And even though most of us know it's fake, we expect ourselves to be just as gorgeous. And then we wonder why we aren't."

I chewed on the inside of my cheek. Did I really just say all of that?

"I've had some work done," she placed her hands on the counter, and huffed out a breath. I grabbed my wine glass, and handed hers to her.

"Come, you can tell me all about it while we eat," I said. We moved everything over to the table, and sat down. She fumbled around with her chopsticks, while I looked at her, "so?"

She didn't look up. And I decided to give her some time to get her thoughts in order. After ten minutes of silence, she finally spoke, "I had my nose done."

I looked at her face, studying the perfection of her nose. It looked natural, but that was the result of a good plastic surgeon, "I had microblading for my brows last year," I wiggled my manually enhanced brows. She smiled and touched her left brow bone with the pad of her index finger.

"Me too, every two years since 2007."

"Really? I didn't know that it's been around that long."

"Microblading actually originated in Asia in 2005. It was initially intended for cancer survivors after harsh chemotherapy," she explained.

"Now it's a beauty trend," everything was about beauty. Everyone wanted to always look their best, and be the best versions of themselves, myself included. I wished that I could wake up every morning looking like I dropped out of the cover of Vogue. But I needed concealer for my naturally dark under eyes, and skin care treatments for my face.

"I also had eyelash extensions."

I almost cringed. After watching a few videos, I knew that I couldn't do it. Just the thought of tampering with anything around my eyes freaked me out.

"I really want to do that. But I'm too sensitive," I can't even wear fake lashes without my allergies flaring up.

"What else have you done?" She asked.

"I get acrylic nails every now and then," I stretched my hand out to show her.

"That's going to hurt me," I furrowed my brows, becoming confused, "they'll scratch," she said.

"Oh," my eyes dropped to the table. I hadn't even thought about that—having my fingers in... "I'll get them removed."

Wow, Alyssa. You're really trying to tell her you're interested.

"Okay," she grinned, "I sometimes get hair extensions," I nervously moved my chopsticks around my food.

"I only did that once, a long time ago."

"Your hair is naturally full and lovely. Mine lacks volume," she ran her fingers through the length of her hair.

"I'd love to see how you apply makeup. You must be an expert."

I'd only seen her wear a full face of makeup on the night of the auction. And that cut crease looked amazing. She must have done it herself. She seemed to favor lipstick and eyeshadow for a more casual look, and maybe a bit of foundation and concealer. For me, concealer was an everyday necessity. The bags under my eyes were not for the living to see. And my pale lips were usually coated with gloss rather than lipstick.

"I've always been a fan of makeup. So when I finished my advanced course, I decided to invest in a small company in India. And that's where my industry started off," she explained.

"I think that's amazing."

"I'll take you to my office some day, you'll get to see how we package our products. It's pretty neat."

I felt as though the zipper of my jeans was going to break at any moment. My stomach was so full that I could barely move.

"That sounds great," I placed my hand over my stomach, like a pregnant woman cradling her unborn baby.

"You okay?" She giggled, "you seem a bit stuck there," I took a deep breath and stood, stretching my arms and legs.

"Just ate way too much. You have to stop feeding me."

"Never. I want everyone to know that I treat you good," she said.

"By getting me fat?" She nodded with a smile, "find another way, please? I'll have to start gym again if this continues."

I tried to eat as healthy as possible everyday. My meals mostly included fruits, vegetables and an occasional bowl of ice cream.

"I don't mind having more of you to hold on to. I like my women with a little something extra," that's what you say now. If I really gain weight, you'll be running behind the skinny blonde down the block.

"Do you have any other plans tonight?" I asked. She shook her head.

"Nope, I cleared my schedule for you. We can do whatever you want," she winked.

"Really?" I smiled widely, "I've been wanting to do this for a while now."