Page 11 of Misguided Vows

“No, thank you.” I pull out my phone to order an Uber. “Even if it was the last cab available, I’d rather walk.”

“Come on, milady, I don’t bite—that hard.” He winks, and I immediately point to the hickey that says otherwise. He chuckles as he encroaches on my space. I freeze as he lifts a piece of my hair, and heat flushes over the spot where he branded me. “We could play again.”

I place my hand on his chest and smile as I push him away. “Play with yourself. Remember how magical your fingers are?” I say, stepping back and waving with all five fingers before turning and flicking him the bird.

I don’t look back, because if I did, he’d notice me smiling. And he can’t know that anything he says or does makes me smile.

I’m afraid it would just encourage his bad behavior.

I’m biting my bottom lip as I think about what we got up to in the bathroom. Though it was rather thrilling, it can’t happen again. And it won’t because, luckily for me, I won’t ever see this fucker again.

As soon as I’m in the back of my Uber, I call my mother to let her know I’ve landed. My mother raised me as a single parent, and she has supported everything I do, so I try to call her every day. She asks me if I plan to visit her while I’m back in the States, but I’m not sure what my schedule will be like yet, so I don’t make any promises. I won’t know unless I definitely get this contract, but I’m hopeful that if they are willing to buy me business-class flights, that they can put their money where their mouth is. I mean, surely, they wouldn’t spend that type of money just to turn me down, right?

My mother also isn’t the biggest fan of flying, and I haven’t been able to afford to fly her business class. I feel that’s the only way I’m going to get her on the plane, not because she’s fancy, just for the sole fact that she can freak out in her own cubicle.

“So, have you met any men yet? You can’t stay single forever, Alina,” she says. She’s always telling me I shouldn’t be singlenow that I’m at a different stage in my life. She thinks I should be considering marriage and children more seriously. Though I’m not sure if that’s entirely something I want anymore. Years ago, I thought I found the love of my life, but it got messy to say the least. Since then, I’ve discovered how much I enjoy my own company. And besides having a few flings to meet my needs, I don’t know if I want anything past that.

Why opt for a relationship when it offers no amount of security, whereas my toys can always meet my needs like most men can’t? It just makes sense to me.

“No, and you know I’m not looking,” I remind her.

“You’re pushing thirty, Alina. I want grandkids.” She huffs. I roll my eyes, grateful she can’t see it.

I’ve told her I don’t know if I even want children. I saw how tough it was for her to raise me on a single income. And while, yes, I make good money now, that could change if I’m unavailable to work due to pregnancy or a newborn.

It’s so easy for men to just up and leave. It was different for my mom and me since my father didn’t leave us willingly, he passed away, but it didn’t take away from the noticeable absence of his presence.

She goes on to tell me about work at the same job she’s had, and loved, since I was a child, and the new neighbors who just moved in. It’s nice to check up on her and know that she’s doing well.

The Uber driver stops in front of a blacked-out storefront, and I realize we’ve arrived at the destination. “Hey, Mom, I’ve just arrived to meet the potential clients. I’ll call you back tonight, okay?”

“Of course. Tell me all about the space. Sounds a little bit raunchy doing a lingerie store.”

I laugh. “Calm down. We don’t know if I’ve got the contract yet.”

She scoffs. “As if they flew you all this way not to hire you. You’re the best of the best.”

I’m stepping out of the Uber with my carry-on suitcase as I say, “Thanks, Mom. Love you.”

I hang up and admire the building. It’s a bigger space than I expected, especially for a lingerie store. A tingle of excitement begins in my stomach.

I thought I’d stop by before going to the hotel because I’m just too excited to see the space that I’ll potentially be working with. If they don’t choose me, then at least I get to return to New York for a week, I suppose.

I push that type of negativity away. I know what I’m capable of, and a smile touches my lips at my mother’s words.You’re the best of the best.

The smile doesn’t last long when my Uber driver leaves, and I realize the black car parked in front of it eerily looks like the same one Will got into.Surely, it’s not.

I swallow hard as I walk to the front door that’s been left open. When I step inside, the first thing I see is a shirtless Will, standing next to the front counter and doing up his belt. My gaze inevitably roams down the front of his body, scanning over every ridge and dip.Fuck me.

Another man holds out a shirt for him. When Will looks up to take the shirt, he notices me, and a devilish smile appears on his lips, that singular dimple forming.

“Milady, you made it.” I cringe at the word, and at this point I know he uses it just to piss me off. But I don’t let it show as I lock eyes with the second man. He offers a brilliant, charismatic smile but briefly glances between Will and me before approaching. He’s well dressed in a very expensive white suit. And dare I say he’s prettier than Will?

Will is definitely attractive. He’s just a different type of attractive, a little rougher around the edges, whereas this manstanding in front of me is very clean-cut and oozes power and money.

“I’m Dawson Taylor. Will has told me all about your work. And I’m looking forward to working with you.” He offers me his hand and I shake it, purposefully ignoring Will, who is moving to join us.

Why the fuck is he actually here?

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