Thank fuck it's Friday.
This week has been exhausting, but somehow, I managed to make a lot of progress on the scholarship project. It helped that Axel had to work out of his office for several days, leaving me without distractions.
Well, during business hours, anyway.
He stayed over every night, basically living at my place, taking full advantage of his new dresser drawer. Not that I'm complaining—I could get used to daily home-cooked meals.
And daily dick.
Turning off my computer, I shut my laptop screen and grab my things, ready to put an end to this lengthy week. As if right on cue, there's a knock on my door.
It's unlike her to wait for permission.
Before I can speak, the door flies open, ricocheting off the stopper. The metal spring rebounding into shape rings through my ears.
That's more like her.
My crazy best friend struts into my office in five-inch heels and a beige bodycon that barely covers her thighs. Based on her outfit, you wouldn't know it's below freezing outside.
November in New York is no joke.
Her dress has a giant waist cutout with a small, front bow holding the minimal fabric together, exposing most of her skin. The gorgeous ruched detail in the skirt hugs her hourglass figure. Per usual, she looks flawless, and completely overdressed for our casual shopping trip.
Why'd I expect anything less?
"I was giving a warning knock." Liza cocks a brow, grinning mischievously. "I didn't want to interrupt something."
I laugh, throwing the handle of my purse over my shoulder. "I'd lock the door."
"Well, that's no fun."
"Gross! Your dad's in this building."
"That's never stopped me before."
I don't doubt that.
"So you ready to go?" she asks.
"Yeah." I grab my phone off the desk and head to the door. "Can we swing by Axel's office?"
"Sure thing! I was just there—dropping Mickey off."
Stopping in my tracks, I turn towards her, curiously. "So that's what you've been doing?"
She smiles sinfully. "More like who I've been doing."
My eyes widen, surprised she hasn't shared any details with me yet. She always does. "What?! Since when?"
Acting coy, she tilts her head to the side, shrugging her shoulders as she walks past me and down the hall.
She's not getting off that easy.
———
"Come in." Axel responds to my knock with a commanding tone.
I wish you were coming in—me.
"Livy!" Mickey walks over, greeting me with a hug, eagerly spinning me around. "What're you doing here, bestie?"
And the moment's gone.
"She came to say goodbye to me." Axel stands up, towering over his large desk, revealing his tight-fitted dress pants, outlining his package.
And the moment's back.
"Now both of you can go fuck off." He gestures to Mickey and his new security detail, pointing at the exit. "And give me a minute alone with my girl."
"Fine," Mickey mumbles under his breath, crossing his arms and pouting.
"Liza's waiting in the hall for me," I chime in, encouraging him to leave the office.
"Oh, well, if that's the case, I'll fuck off!" he says, grinning from ear-to-ear, practically sprinting out the door. "See you tomorrow, Liv!"
I wave goodbye, laughing as he takes off down the hall in search of my friend.
"Nice to see you again, Bjorn." I smile at the beefy security guard following Mickey.
He looks up at me and grunts as he shuts the office door behind him.
"Don't mind him. He's not much of a conversationalist." Axel shrugs, walking around his desk.
He lifts me up into his muscular arms, holding me against his toned chest as our lips collide.
Now this is a goodbye.
My legs instinctively wrap around his waist, forcing my skirt to ride up. His fingertips trail my exposed thighs, pushing past the hem, grabbing my ass, squeezing tight.
"God. I've missed you today," he says through kisses, seating me atop his desk.
Sleeping in this morning forced us to skip our routinely pre-breakfast fuck and our full calendars made it impossible to have any alone time.
I've craved his touch all day.
"Same here." I reach for his growing bulge, rubbing outside his pants.
"Fuck, baby. I wish you didn't have to go tonight," he breathes into my skin, sucking on my neck, making my pussy tingle.
Goddamnit. He did that on purpose.
I need to stop this before it goes any further. I'm horny as fuck today and my kitty has a mind of her own when it comes to him. She can't control herself and I'm definitely not strong enough to stand in her way.
Especially when his tongue is rolling along my neck.
If I stay in this office any longer, I'll be forced to cancel my plans and that's not fair to Liza.
Snap out of it, Liv!
Pulling away, I try to refocus my mind, putting some space between us. "I have to go. It's our tradition."
"I know..." He pushes his bottom lip out, being dramatic.
Leaning in, I take hold of it with my teeth and gently tug, provoking him a tad. He moans into my mouth and swiftly moves his hand between my legs, parting my thighs, granting him easy access.
"Don't start something you can't finish, Olivia." He uses my own words against me, tracing my thong, feeling my wet slits through the fabric. "Because I don't give a shit who's waiting outside this office." He pushes my panties to the side and lets a finger slide in.
"You coming?" Liza shouts from the hall.
"She's about to!" Axel chuckles at his provocative joke as his finger circles my clit, attempting to make me actually come.
My face burns, feeling my cheeks and ears redden. Swatting his hand away, I hop down from the desk. "Oh. My. God. I almost just let you get me off with our friends waiting outside the door!" I pull my skirt down, and straighten my blouse, feeling flustered. "And at work!"
He chuckles, clearly proud of himself.
Cocky bastard.
"I'm sorry babe. Let me make it up to you when you get home." He licks his lips, implying his intentions for later.
He's persistent.
And obviously there's no way I'm saying no...
"Only if you let me leave right now." I place my hand on his chest, fully extending my elbow, putting a literal arm's length between us. "And you say goodbye from over there."
"Deal!" He follows me to the door, keeping his distance.
"Here's my key." I pull it off my key ring and drop it into his hand. "I'm not sure when we'll be home, but you can come over whenever." I place a small peck on his cheek and quickly open the door before he convinces me to stay.
"I don't mind waiting all night for you to come," he says in a loud whisper, watching me walk away.
———
Before any major holiday, Eliza and I always go to The Shops at Columbus Circle—an upscale mall in the city. With over fifty stores and boutiques, it offers a nighttime, paparazzi-free VIP experience. We shop for color-coordinated clothes and end our date having dinner at one of the renowned three-star Michelin restaurants.
Of course Liza's on a first name basis with all of the owners.
We take a family picture at every celebration and overlap the existing photo with the new one, sitting in a glass frame on Frank's desk. There are years of pictures stacked on top of each other in planned outfits, all picked out by our unappointed stylist—Eliza.
The Alvarez holiday traditions were unusual to me at first—maybe because I never had them—but now, I look forward to each shopping trip. Even when it takes my best friend hours to find the perfect outfits.
"What about this?" Liza twirls in the mirror wearing a burnt orange, floral midi with a fairly conservative slit.
Well, conservative for her.
The silky material has flutter sleeves with a delicate belt across her waist, defining her curves. Scattered tiny yellow flowers add a classy touch without making the dress look too busy.
This could be her dress. Please be her dress. I can't watch her try on another one.
"So? What do you think?" she repeats, looking over her shoulder at me.
"I actually really like it."
Though I'd probably say yes to anything at this point.
"It matches your mom's rustic, knitted cardigan." I attempt to convince her after watching her try on hundreds of outfits. "And the muted yellow button-up you chose for Frank compliments the flowers in this dress."
"That's true..." she says, tilting her head to the side, looking in the mirror one final time. "I think this is it."
"Great! Can we checkout now? I'm starving!"
"Not yet! You need to see the top I picked out for you and make sure you like it." She runs back to the fitting room.
"I like it!" I yell after her, willing to wear a paper bag if it'll get me food.
"You haven't even seen it yet!" she shouts back, laughing.
Waiting for her to return, I lay back in the plush chair of the seating area and pour another glass of champagne, listening to my stomach audibly beg for dinner.
"Isn't it perfect?" She walks out holding a boho-inspired peplum blouse with a smocked bodice. The fabric is practically identical to her dress.
"It is!"
"Try it on!" She pouts holding out the hanger, "For me?"
Fighting her will only prolong the inevitable.
"Fine." I grab the top and head for the dressing room.
The long peasant sleeves are surprisingly flattering and the square neckline shows a reasonable amount of cleavage. The cropped hem will look great with my high-waisted skinny jeans.
"So?" Liza asks, watching me model the blouse in the mirror.
"I really like it."
"Great! Now go change and I'll check us out."
She never lets me pay.
I throw the blouse over the door and Liza grabs it, making her way to the register, refusing my attempts to purchase it myself.
After we finished picking out a few accessories to go with the outfits, we finally headed to dinner.
Thank fuck!
"I'm thinking sushi. You down?" she asks.
"I'd eat anything at this point."
"Sake?"
"They're stupid expensive and there's always a wait," I whine, feeling my hunger pangs ache.
"Obviously, I'm buying." She smiles, linking her arm in mine. "And you know I never wait." She adds with a wink.
Sake has the best Japanese food in New York. With very little decor, the restaurant allows their exceptional plating to be the primary focus. And don't get me started on their sushi bar—I could live there. Their bluefin tuna tartare with caviar is almost as good as sex.
Almost.
As much as I love their food, the prices are outrageous. I still struggle with people dropping over a grand for two, to eat. But living in Manhattan and being friends with a famous supermodel, I guess makes this the norm.
When in Rome—or some shit.
We arrive at the modern restaurant and see a line out the door, as predicted. Liza walks past the crowd to the front and speaks to the hostess, standing in front of the podium. Seconds later, the owner—and head chef—appears, greeting her with a massive hug.
He has his employee free up a table and ushers us to the best seats in the house. They immediately bring us out a complimentary bottle of wine and two large glasses as we look through the menu.
I glance up at Liza, cocking a brow, knowing her all too well.
"Chill." She laughs. "It's not like that. He's my dad's friend!"
"Good! Because he's old enough to be your dad."
We both laugh as the waiter returns and takes our orders. My mouth waters, anticipating the delicious onigiri and yakitori.
Never skipping lunch again.
Picking up my long-stemmed glass, I chug down some wine, trying to keep my stomach growls at bay until our food arrives. "So." I twirl the Cabernet, looking over at my best friend. "You and Mickey?"