Glamorous (#Watty 2017) [Completed]

Eleven.

Fashion is the armour to survive the reality of everyday life

Sasha slumped on her car seat and groaned.
Talk about a crazy night. Last night was that and more.
Taking in mind she was older, more experienced and had skills he knew nothing of therefore, he was no match for her, she had controlled him, dominated and helped herself to him until she was too exhausted to drag her butt home. But he got points for resilience and stamina she had to give him that probably due to his age she thought with a fond smile on a tired face. The man was stud. Surprising her at every turn when she thought she had pushed him to his limits.
Her crisp hand tailored suit was creased, her hair was dishevelled making her look like a wily raccoon despite her best efforts to straighten it and her normally clear eyes were bloodshot.
But she was glowing; the after sex orgasm glow. She would probably won't mind a repeat performance and until that moment she hadn't realized just how much she had missed sex. And not just sex but mind blowing, nerve shattering sex at that.
After the bad divorce with her Italian second husband the very fibers of her heart had dried and sex too hadn't survived the bad break. Her fear of getting hurt again making her distant and avoid any kind of attachments. She had casual flings over the years but she couldn't categorize what had happened last night as a fling. She had given more than her body but she still felt she held something back. Was this her shot of love again? Or was her mind too clouded with sex haze? Could she trust him with her heart and if not was she missing out on something great?

Running her fingers through her hair, she straighten her clothes, jabbed her keys in the ignition and loved when the powerful engine of her Bentley purred to life. She indulged herself for a few private seconds on the power she wielded over things she could control unlike the murky uncharted waters of matters of the heart. Determined to forget about her sex life at least until she had a cup of coffee, she put the car on drive and went hunting for coffee in places where she knew she wouldn't run into people she knew. The embarrassment would be too great to live down.
The billionaire Sasha 'O'Neill walk of shame would surely be too embarrassing to contemplate and definitely tabloid worthy. At times like these she loathed her status in the society.

Her wealth giving her a celebrity status.

Pulling up next to a small coffee shop, she heaved a lungful of leather smelling air of her car interior and shoved the door open but not before she gave her reflection one cursory glance at the rare view mirror.

She grimaced but at least no one would actually recognize her.

The place was parked.
Fighting the impulse to leave she stood in line and something about the head of man two places in front of her made the hair at the back of her head rise in apprehension. But she dismissed her instincts too winded up to give it another thought.

"Michael!"

His presence jarred her. She reeled in shock. Her mouth gaping wide open.
Of all days why today!
She had thought being seen by the tabloids or her high class lady friends would have been worse but she hadn't thought of the worst scenario possible: meeting Michael.

His lips stretching into a knowing smile he run his eyes over her crumpled yesterday suit to her wild hair the smile brightening. She wished she could knock the stupid smile off his arrogant face but she was too self conscious to do anything but stand there shifting from one foot to the other her face flashing beetroot red. Looking guilty as hell.
But at least on the plus side she maintained eye contact.

" And what do we have here?"

Trying to be casual about it like it was a normal thing she shrugged giving him the what -can-i- say-palms up and wolfish grin.

But there was no way she was talking herself out of this, her chances were like those of a proverbial snowball . He could have his amusement at her expense but this was more than over. There would be hell to pay. The thought brighten her moods already planning her revenge as she endured the third degree and the embarrassing guffaws and Snickers.

######

Feeling fresh and in good mood after a long hot steaming shower and a sinful delicious breakfast full of calories she did her best to ignore, she felt ready to face anything.

On the other hand Michael felt even better.
A good day begun in the morning and his had been best considering. Whistling happily and in his lucky a thousand dollar blue suit he felt invisible and nothing could ruin his good moods.
Even God he thought dangerously.
He was in his happy place where Sasha did embarrassing things and he was there to witness it all and make fun of her.
Making sure he didn't have bad breath and nothing was stuck in his teeth he approached the beautiful Sasha's secretary. She was a blonde haired beauty packed in every man's voluptuous fantasy. Big brown eyes, full sinful red lips and enough makeup to make a cosmetician swoon.

" Hello D."

" Hello? Is that the best you can come up with or you are loosing your touch big boy?"

She shot back smiling sweetly at him. His heart missed a beat.

" Well, what can I say Dianna."

"Wrong."

" Daisy?"

She shook her head.
It was a game they had been playing for months now. He could easily have looked up her name after all he was also the boss the last time he checked but where would be the fun in that. So he was left to guess but until he guessed correctly she refused to be wooed.

"Is she in?"

He cocked his head towards Sasha imposing office door.

"Yes but I don't think you want to go in there."

" watch me. "

He strolled away winking at D and he nearly swooned when she flashed her best winning smile his way.

He was halfway into Sasha office when he noticed the other presence in the room.
He came to a halt his eyes locking with the old Mrs. Atkinson. Angelina fucking Atkinson.
Her pretty small, elfin gypsy face framed by a perfectly-coiffed silver hair looking up at his scowling face.
She smirked at him getting a frown in return.

" Hello Michael."

Her sweet singsong voice grated at his nerves.

" Sasha. what's the meaning of this?"

He asked ignoring Lena altogether. Her name bringing unbridled memories; 'Call me Lena because I am no angel dear' her condescending voice filtered through his mind making him shiver as he remembered her touch when she patted his arm.

" Michael. You remember Mrs Atkinson? You won't believe it but she is willing to be part of the new branching. Her expertise will go a long way in making our dream a reality."

" ooh"

" Yes isn't it great!"

Lena gushed and Sasha smiled. Then everything clicked into place.

" ooh. You don't waste time don't you? Is this about this morning? Don't answer that of course it is. So it has come down to this? But i won't play a party to this. "

This won't probably wash Sasha thought as she watched him, a demure smile on her face. But she didn't care.
Revenge was probably childish but the look on Michael's face was probably worth it.
She just hope there won't be any bloodshed between the two mortal enemies.
She looked up at Michael again but he was already out of the door. The door slamming shut behind him with enough force to rattle her bones.