Read Online Slave to Love by Julie A. Richman - Free Book Online Page A

press my thigh against hers and inform the waiter, “I’ll have what she’s having,” hoping she’ll pick up the iconic line from When Harry Met Sally.”
    When my drink comes, we toast.
    “How’s your Manhattan?” I ask, my voice low.
    “Orgasmic,” her reply is a little more than a whisper, accompanied by a smile, which elicits the same from me. She got the movie reference. The girl got my joke. It doesn’t get better than that.
    Immediately Bob takes center stage, first thanking me for my business, and then asking appropriate questions to better understand SpaceCloud past a basic understanding he’s gleaned off the website and from a debriefing by his staff. Kemp can talk about my business nearly as well as I can and launches into a long term partnering conversation. By the time the waiter serves our third round of drinks, we’ve nearly inked a deal on some long term projects.
    With just pretzels and nuts on the table, I’m wondering if Bob is going to move this little shindig into one of the on-site restaurants, but when he orders another round and turns his sights on Sierra, I know that is not in his plans for the evening. The only thing he wants to make a meal out of is her.
    “You’re really too pretty to be hanging around with this motley crew.” He’s expecting her to say something complimentary, which is a typical response to a line like this.
    “I’ve been telling myself the exact same thing all night,” she quips.
    Although Sierra meant to deflect his oncoming advances with humor, she inadvertently took the hunt to a more challenging level. Like a big game hunter, Bob Mannon has every intention of dragging out the prize at the end of the evening.
    Turning to me, Sierra looks apologetic, “Hale, I’m so sorry, but I’m going to bore you here with a little shoptalk.”
    “Not a problem.” I know what she’s doing. She’s taking control of something uncomfortable and masterfully maneuvers it back to an appropriate and comfortable place.
    “Bob, let me run you through the details for tomorrow that didn’t end up on the itinerary.” She smiles at him, “We have limos picking up each of the clients and bringing them here for breakfast at your bungalow. For that portion of the itinerary, you’re going to get to see two of your favorite ladies, Monica Green and Beverly Binns. They are going to be here for the breakfast, as all the clients attending, with the exception of Hale, are all theirs.”
    “Oh Monica and Beverly, they’re always a delight. They won’t be joining us for the rest of the day?”
    “No, we only have a table for ten, so it will be the three of us and seven clients. They are bummed, so expect to get an earful.”
    “Do we have a good table?”
    This guy is shallow. What’s important to him is bizarre. Sierra is trying to give him vital information, which if he’d only listen, would make him look very good to the clients he’s about to meet.
    “The best,” Sierra placates him. “All the Presidents, dignitaries and movie stars have to pass our table as they make their way to where they will be seated and to the stage.” She pauses and smiles, “Don’t worry, I took good care of you.”
    I watch as she does a skillful job with this tool, but he has his sights set on one thing for the night. Getting between her legs. Fucking douche.
    “We really need to take a close look at your future.” Here it comes, he’s starting to dangle the bait.
    “Oh, and why is that? You want me to take out this guy here?” She smiles at Kemp, putting a hand on his arm.
    Kemp laughs, but I can see he is uptight. He’s letting Sierra handle it, as he should, but he’s ready to leap if Bob bests her.
    “We’re a team,” she tells Bob.
    As the outsider, I feel as if I am watching a carefully orchestrated ballet and if the lead ballerina goes down, disaster will ensue.
    Pulling a keycard from his pocket, he slides it across the table to her. “Bungalow 4.”
    Sierra laughs and