Sphallolalia.
(n.) flirtatious talk that leads nowhere.
"Mhfmmm" he groaned.
The incessant banging on his door just wouldn't end. His head hurt, a constant rhythmic beat against his temple. He cracked his eyes open just a little to almost be blinded from the morning sun that flared through the open blind curtains. They stung and teared up. Groaning he covered them with his hand, licking his lips that were dry, and his mouth that was left feeling like sandpaper. One thought ran through his mind. Murder whoever the fuck was at the door.
"Did you sleep here again Linc?"
The measured voice of Nikolai, made its way through his hazy hearing, bursting his little bubble. He barely remembered last night and how he ended up here. He knew he definitely looked a state, and if the soreness in his shoulders, neck and back were any indication, then he had slept here slung over his desk all night.
"Fuck off Crowley." Was all he managed to rasp out.
In signature Nikolai style he brushed off the comment unfazed taking a seat across from him. He sat up, slumped over his desk, running a hand through his matted blonde locks.
"You look like shit."
He just glared at him, with eyes that were probably rimmed red as they descended into a familiar silence. He just sat, trying to gather his thoughts and clear his mind. He couldn't care less that Kolya was analysing him, his eyes scanning every little detail of him. It made him aware and self conscious. Not that he'd let it show.
"It's been three times this week already Linc."
"I know," he sighed out.
"Now what do you want Kolya, I need to sort my shit out for the day."
And like that they fell into business.
She felt deeper and deeper in love with her apartment everyday. Perhaps the only home that has felt like home in the past ten years and that she genuinely liked. The house in LA was too big for her alone. The apartment in Seattle that she thought was perfect felt cold. And every place she had in New York now just made her feel hollow, like it was no longer her home. Despite the penthouse costing her an arm and a leg, it still managed to take her breath away.
Sitting right at the end of the French Quarter it let her look into the most colourful and eccentric side of New Orleans. It was noisy and bustling but she loved it. The few smells that would waft up to her, the crazy lights and parties she could hear made her feel like she belonged. And on days like this in the early mornings, she loved to just stand in the balcony, watching as people started to set up for their businesses. The vendors, shop owners, laughing and talking before tourists and locals alike turned up.
She took a sip of the coffee in her perfectly manicured hand, as the sun shone down on her. She leaned against the the iron fence of her balcony as the summer heat warmed her up.
"It's gonna be a good day Lia." The words she spoke made her feel the happiest she had been in a while.
He was grateful that when designing the building he had included the small bathroom and closer for himself. The jets of hot water hit his tense muscles had helping losses them a little. He was wound up so tight these days, he'd forgotten how to relax. When was the last time he'd gotten laid? Taken a woman out, or even back to his place? He cleared his mind of the thoughts as he wiped the fogged up mirror so he could sort out his hair. The ash blonde locks had lightened up from the summer sun, falling over his eyes. Seeing how long they had gotten he slicked them back thinking how it was time he got a trim. The sleep in his eyes would rid itself once he got coffee into his system. And the redness and puffiness would reduce in the next hour.
Making quick work of shaving he got rid of his light stubble, moisturising his glassy sun kissed skin, before turning to the closet. Monotonously he dressed himself. A dark navy suit and white shirt, all specially tailored to his build. The shirt accentuated every ripped inch of muscle he hid underneath, tightening only when he flexed his arms a bit. As he sorted the cuff links out he did a quick analysis of himself head to toe. He looked almost like he always did. Intimidatingly flawless. Once his eyes sorted themselves out.
The white satin sat loosely against her skin, seemingly perfect for the summer heat, the jumpsuit cinched at her waist tied at the back into a perfect symmetrical bow, before rolling up to her neck. The sleeves puffed and cuffed with the small detail of three buttons in each side. The legs wide and airy. But the real beauty in it lay in the hint of sexy that came from it being backless. And although it showed off the thin surgical scar that ran down her spine, she felt strong in it.
Her short bob sat in caramel waves that frames her face, with a long cat fringe that fell just above her eyes. She sat at her dresser, picking up her concealer applying a little under eyes to brighten the area. With a natural hue in her cheeks she forwent any type of cheek products. A thin line of eyeliner framed her slanted eyes, giving them a little more depth. And a natural lip colour, the colour of her lips finished off her look. It was enough whilst letting her look as natural as she could. She tucked her hair behind her left ear, a habit and trait she had tried for many years to break as she moved into rummaging through her jewellery boxes.
Two small diamanté studs different in size went into her first and second lobe piercings. She put a small gold hoop through the conch piercing on her left ear. A slim gold cuff sat on her right wrist along with her watch. She stood, her heels clicking against the wood flooring as she looked herself over in the mirror. She pulled at the neck, the physical representation of just how suffocated she felt in the attire. It reminded her of her office days, a life she planned to not step into again if she had anything to do with it.
Resume upon resume sat scattered across his desk. They had already narrowed down the number of applicants but yet still so many remained. And he had half the day to get through the names and credentials and order them in line with the number each applicant would be assigned. Silas sat across him, helping sort out a pile while Nikolai sat next on the sofa feet up already done. He spoke each name out along with age and previous workplaces, as thorough as he could be.
"Mahalia Del Rosario."
His eyes flashed over the name and age before he stilled.
"Lia?" The nickname came out a whisper on his lips as he looked up in thought.
It couldn't be, he shook himself out of the past. He watched as Nikolai watched him like a hawk, calculating and trying to read what just happened. He ignored the eyes that could send any other man running. The name and age was a mere coincidence. Besides she meant nothing to him, nor had he seen her since graduation.
Tease sat on the end of the strip of clubs that made downtown. It was the first place you came across, and it dominated the whole corner of the end of the street it sat on. The place looked dark and mysterious from the outside giving nothing away and the word was the inside reflected something Along those lines on the inside. But that it was also crazily secretive which she guessed was understandable . But more than anything it paid more than just good. She watched as a group of three women walked in, and a lady rushed out. The place was no doubt bustling inside.
She walked into the foyer. The theme of black and red wasn't hard to miss. The entrance foyer itself screamed money, with the crushed velvet lining and newly painted sleek look it had going. She didn't make it further than true desk when she was stopped by a built daunting man, who was no doubt a bodyguard.
"Can I help you M'am?"
"I'm here for the interviews?" Her reply came out as a question, quieter than she intended.
His eyes shone with understanding, but apart from that he nodded wordlessly leading her through a separate staircase through a door on the right, up onto the second floor of the place. It was no doubt one of the club floors. Tables and stools had been pushed up against the walls. Four black poles sat on the raise stage. Women all dressed like her were scattered across the floor, no doubt waiting to be called in for their turn. She said thank you to them man receiving a small smile in return. She clasped her hands in front of her out of nervousness. Some traits just didn't leave she guessed.
From the minute the main doors us open, one after another woman walked through his office doors like they were revolving. Names, faces and ages were all starting to become a blur at the rate they flew through them. Some ended quicker than others when they could tell they weren't actually interested. It probably also didn't help that Nikolai was glaring at anyone who even wired him slightly wrong. Nonetheless it was effective, anyone who did wasn't fit to work here. And as they took a quick lunch break her quickly counted his remaining pile of resumes left. Another twelve and they would be done doing so for the day.
She had been sitting in the corner to herself all morning that had turned into the afternoon. Trepidation covered her as she watched some women return faster than others and started to question if she would make the cut. She had an outstanding resume with some of the places she worked at. But she couldn't help the little niggle in the back of her mind and the drop of doubt she fell in her gut. She tried to shake the feelings the some form of a form was brewing. Not now at least.
"Miss Del Rosario?"
Her name had her hot in her heels as she followed the small woman in a black suit. She stopped in front of a small elevator that opened taking them up. She wondered just how many floors this place had as a small ding signalled they had arrived. With a silent whoosh the elevator doors opened and she felt like she was in a whole other place. A reception sat right in front of her. On her left sat a board room that you could look into through the glass doors. And on her right to small offices.
"Mahalia Del Rosario."
With the introduction his assistant opened the door wider and the woman walk in.
There was a storm. And she had just walked into they eye of it. Those eyes. She would never forget those eyes. The hazel with green flecks that glowed. She was just forgetting his features, his face slowly becoming a blur to her few dreams. The blonde hair that used to fall over his forehead was jelled back in a quiff. An unsettling feeling settled in her stomach. Even after all these years Lincoln Noe Ezra Junior still managed to make her waver.
"Lia?" He couldn't mask the surprise in his voice.
Mahalia? Gone was the shy girl her remembered through the years of law school. The enigma that didn't really get close to people and was his largest rival. God the girl was the smartest person he had ever known, yet she stood in front of him after having applied to work here as a stripper? He couldn't fathom what changed in those short years, last he heard she was fully one her way to making partner one day at one the the biggest firms in New York.
Like wine he aged well. She didn't let her mask fall as she ignored the familiarity in his tone, she looked at his nose unable to look into those eyes that turned her world upside down as they held surprise and shock. And she ignored the way he always managed to make her feel. Like he was looking into her soul and she was an open book. He made her nervous in the past, made her stomach twist into painful knots. It wondered her that he still managed to do so.
She looked past him. She usually did. But then so she was the quiet girl who sat in near the back in classes. Was always running through campus with a book or her bag in her hand like she was running a marathon. Her then dark hair flowing behind down to her back. He remembered the feel of her waist from the time he had caught her from falling. The way he had taken her hand more than once pulling her away from the situations she always managed to find herself in. The subtle brush of her leg or arm brushing his when they were cramped into small booths and he just happened to be sitting next her.
She smiled, apprehensive, scared that this could blow her chance out here. But she wouldn't let it show. She met all three men head one, her gaze transfixed onto each in when they took their turns to ask questions. She mentally patted her back as her voice came out clear and strong despite the butterflies. And she felt the small break of sweat against her skin every time her eyes clashed against his.
With smiles and thank yous her interview came to a stop. Placing her hand in his, she felt a sensation right to her stomach that made it erupt into butterflies. Her body heated all over. But she kept her eyes blank, just like always. And Lord it reminded her of how his body felt over hers. The way he had stood up to the drunk guy with the flying bottle, her body up against the wall of the frat house, him shielding her, and arm twisted around her waist holding her flush against his back. She searched his face, making out the faint scar by his hairline. It once ran to his eyebrow, red and angry. She inhaled sharply. A man like Lincoln would never be hers.
She still affected him, and he hated the way she made his insides twist up. Like always Mahalia was immune in everything to do with him. He still remembered the empty eyes when she found him leaving her best friends room, a few hours after he had tried every charm he had on her. They haunted him from then on, even though she kept everyone at arms length. It made him uneasy the way his eyes would search for her in a room. How his nerves would be in end if she was in reach. The way her scent drove him crazy. All the while her friend had suddenly made them a couple, his eyes would often wander to the enigma who never got too close to anyone.
He caught a whiff of her perfume as she turned to walk out. He could still feel her weight in his arms, from when he had carried her to bed after she knocked out. Her scent, the soft rhythmic breathing that hit his neck. The feel of her soft, sweaty forehead as he kissed it wishing her sweet dreams. Always. It reminded him of his hospital bed. Where he swore she whispered her plead for him to take care of himself in the softest of voices. The tingling sensation she left when she kissed his hand. The last time he had seen her.
It was like a knee jerk reaction he ran after her.
"Mahalia."
Her name made her stop in her tracks. She turned around to see Lincoln take powerful strides towards her, stopping at arms length. She was apprehensive, in no means was today a social call. And she never intended to run into him. Ever.
"Hi... I mean it's been a long time, how have you been."
He was stupid it was official. He was small talking her, with no reason, ran after her, with no reason.
"It's good to see you Lincoln, it has been but I should get going." And effortlessly she was brushing him off.
"Umm yeah sure, it's just last I heard you were in New York, going to be the youngest to make partner."
He watched as she shut down more if possible,
"Well I stopped practicing a while ago out of personal choice. Too suffocating for me."
He had stepped in hot water. Had nothing to do with him. And he had no reason to ask for more. Even though something deep in him wasn't sitting well with her answer.
"Oh okay. Well how's Natalie, I mean you guys were best friends."
Her shoulder grew rigid from tension. Bad her eyes if possible grew deathly lifeless at the mention of his ex, well not his ex, just someone he used to sleep with.
"A little off to ask about an ex." She laughed tightly.
"But I wouldn't know, we went our separate ways three years after law school. Haven't heard from her since then." She shrugged.
She looked down at her watch. Her eyes flickered you to his and he was them grow soft for a split second, that it warmed his heart.
"I should really get going Linc."
His nickname from her lips always hit him different. Like a whisper that bought calmness over his whole being. He stepped closer, taking her hand in his. He felt triumph inside when she didn't snatch it out of his grasp.
"It was good seeing you again Lia." He gave her hand a small squeeze, smiling a smile only she was capable of getting out of him before letting her go.
She didn't look back, and he felt like she was taking a piece of him with every step.
He still manage to ruffle her. She felt suffocated when he asked about Natalie. Felt pain as if she was backstabbing her, even though she had never cared about her in the beginning. He was beyond her imaginations. And someone who would never be hers, despite the flames that flickered alive between them even after all these years. She felt close to hysterics when he mentioned the law firm in New York. Somethings were better left unsaid, not that anyone had been willing to listen to her anyways.
She felt a warmth that she basked in from hearing her nickname from his lips. She hadn't heard it years. And like always from his lips, the tenderness the underlay them made her feel a sense of safety. It took everything in her to not turn back and look at him. One more glance if she didn't get the job. Never got to see him ever again. She smiled at his assistant that told her she good take the elevator straight to the ground floor, from where she would be led out.
He walked back into the conference room. Saw the questions look in one pair of eyes. And knowing in another. He ignored them like loathing had happened. Because he himself didn't know why he did that. Or what was happening. Because she didn't look back. Because he was afraid.
Her heart thrummed again the chest, uncomfortably tightening. So many unsaid emotions flowed through her. Want, love, lust, care, tenderness, understanding. The were so similar yet so polar opposites. And the air between them like always was tangible. She walked out the confining elevator, taking quick short steps out of the building, in desperate need for air.
A hand around her forearm stopped her as she made it down the side of the building. Familiar brown eyes filed with concern looked up at her.
"You okay?" Nia's soft voice broke through the haze.
"I'm fine." She gave a tight smile back.
Careful to make sure no one was looking Nia looked up at her. She saw the same lost girl in herself. The same look that had marred her features making her look weary of life at such a young age, took her back to when they had first met.
"It's okay, Nia, everything's falling into place."
She got a small nod and smile in return.
"You need my help or a reference , you call me anytime sweetheart."
Squeezing her shoulder, she turned walking away briskly. Because now not only was she risking her entire being one sick game game. Her heart was also in play in its own precarious game, that left her more than defenceless .