The Art Of The Deal

MANHATTAN, NEW YORK
 
Fifth Avenue
 
Artesia walked out of Fashion and Accessories Boutique.
 
She strolled to her two-seater convertible BMW, unlocked the door, and placed her shopping parcels on the passenger seat. She pushed the door close and walked around to the driver side of her vehicle. She opened the door, got in, and pulled the door close. She pulled the sun-visor down and looked at her reflection in the mirror. She touched her upswept hairstyle.  
 
“Nice job Leslie.”
 
Artesia plugged the key inside the ignition, snapped her seatbelt in place, and started her vehicle. She pulled away from the curb. She pulled at a red light. She looked down at her pedicure toes, and then she studied her manicured nails as the braced the steering wheel. She pivoted to look out the passenger window.
 
“Naughty-By-Nature, really.”
 
Artesia eased her vehicle to the right side of the curve, and parked. She twisted the key inside the ignition and rested the engine; she withdrew the key from out the ignition. She lifted her purse from off the passenger seat, unsnapped her seatbelt, and opened the door. She got out, pushed the door close; she walked around her vehicle.
 
Naughty-By-Nature Novelty Shop
 
Fifth Avenue
 
Artesia entered Naughty-By-Nature Novelty Shop. She took the time to browse.
 
“May I help the beautiful lady find something?”
 
Artesia glanced around the width of the shop. She focused on the African American store proprietor.
 
“Since your so kind to ask, yes you may.”
 
“This way please.”
 
Artesia followed the man.
 
GIORDANO ACCOUNTING FIRM, CPA’S
Financial District  
 
Manhattan, New York
 
Artesia looked down at Tristano’s business card, and then looked up at the address on the golden embedded plague above the glass door. She grabbed the brass handle and pushed the door open. She entered the ten-story glass structured building and glanced around the spacious greeting hall. She walked over to the elevators and pressed the up button.
 
CONFERENCE ROOM
 
“Are there any questions Mr. Barron?”
 
Michael Barron glanced over the preliminary contract.
 
Tristano looked over at Welford.
 
Michael leaned over and whispered something to one of his financial advisers.
 
Tristano glanced down at his Harry Winston timepiece.
 
“Gentlemen, is the contract to your liking?”
 
Michael looked across the conference table at Tristano.
 
“Yes, however, the account you manage for my company now, will be quite different, then the three presented today.”
 
“I am aware of that Mr. Barron. Nonetheless, the overseeing of any major account, takes precision, and an accounting firm that will not only have you, but the best interest of your company’s financial portfolios in mind.”
 
Tristano witnessed a thousand emotions cross Michael’s face in a matter of seconds.
 
“Mr. Giordano, my financial advisers, and I, will take this to our board of directors for a general vote. I will inform you of my decision sometime tomorrow.”
 
“Very well. In addition, to show good faith, I am hosting a private engagement tomorrow evening, and I would be honored if you and your associates could be in attendance.”
 
“I have to check my agenda.”
 
Michael, his father, his attorney, and Barron Pharmaceuticals Incorporation’s two financial advisers stood.
 
Tristano and Welford stood.
 
“Mr. Giordano, thank you for meeting with me, my son, and our financial advisers on such short notice.”
 
“No worries man. Mr. Barron Sr., I have a short bio in my office, which would be beneficial in answering any questions not addressed today.”
 
“I will be interested in that piece of material young man.”
 
“Gentlemen, you may follow me.”
 
TRISTANO GORDANO III’S OFFICE
 
Artesia pulled the thigh-high black fishnet stockings up her legs; she then repositioned the red garter farther up her thigh. She adjusted the edible lacy thong she had on. She glanced down at her Cartier watch.
 
“What is taking him so long?”
 
She glanced down at her fur positioned against a Crystal bowl of grapes, two champagne flute glasses, an ice-bucket containing a bottle of Cristal, and a cheese board of imported cheeses and slices of dewy melons.
 
 Artesia heard raised voices in the corridor. She ran over to the window and waited.
 
The skyscrapers of Manhattan dominated her scenery.
 
Someone twisted the doorknob.
 
Artesia leaned over and turned on the small radio. She clamped her palms to the sides of her temples and wiggled her body side-to-side.
 
“Since you love to lick over these tits, here you are handsome.”
 
She unclasped her red bra from the front, twirled it in the air, and tossed it over her shoulder blade.
 
Her bra landed on top of Michael’s head.
 
Artesia palmed the sides of her hips and rubbed over them seductively. She leaned over and twerked her buttocks, she reached behind herself and slapped one.  She untied the thong from the sides and threw it over her shoulder. Her thong landed at Michael’s feet.
 
Michael lifted it from off the carpet and pocketed it.
 
“Care to enter this back-door Mr. CFO, my dirty little interpretation of your title, Care For an Orgasm, which you know I would love.”
 
Artesia shimmed her body, and then swung her hips side-to-side.
 
“Ummm, I’ll even allow you the honor of licking over this, sweet tight pussy, all night long.”  
 
Michael, Michael’s father and his attorney, his two financial advisers, Welford, and Tristano looked on in astonishment.
 
Mr. Barron Sr., removed his glasses from out his suit jacket breast pocket, and quickly slid them up the bridge of his nose. He cleared his throat.
 
“Now, we’re even handsome.”
 
Artesia turned around.
 
“I…I…oh shit.”
 
She covered her breasts with both palms, and then uncovered them; she pivoted to turn off the radio. In thee attempt, the radio slipped off the settee. She turned around, bent over, and lifted it from off the carpet.
 
Fourteen pairs of eyes were treated to a firm derrière.
 
Michael’s eyes wandered from Artesia’s stilettos, up the back of her long toned legs, her buttocks, and a smooth bare back. He hissed his approval under his breath.
 
Artesia placed the radio on Tristano’s desk and turned to face her audience. She shielded her breasts with one arm, and her pelvis with her other palm.
 
“The contract is yours,” Michael stated. He entered Tristano’s office and quickly strode over to where Artesia stood.
 
“Well, that was quite a performance. My name is Michael.” Michael extended his hand.
 
Artesia, without thought, shook it. She quickly recovered her breasts.
 
“I sincerely apologize for my appearance.”
 
Michael leaned his upper body back and glanced down at Artesia’s hips and flat abdomen. He looked down into her eyes.
 
“I’m not.”
 
Michael pivoted his head and stole a quick peep at the intimate setting.
 
Artesia looked over Michael’s shoulder at Tristano. She mouthed the words, I’m so sorry.
 
Tristano’s tight expression showed no emotions.
 
Mr. Barron Sr. walked over to where Artesia stood, and handed her his suit jacket.
 
Michael scowled at his father’s interference.
 
“Thank you, sir.”
 
Artesia slipped into the suit jacket.
 
“Have we met before?”
 
“Unless you were here to watch me undress, no.”
 
“My loss I suppose.”
 
Artesia looked up into Michael’s dark-brown eyes and blushed.
 
Michael reached on top of his head and removed Artesia’s red bra.
 
“I think you may need this.”
 
“You really don’t mean that,” she whispered, and then winked at him. “However, thank you.”
 
Michael looked down at Artesia’s fine downy hairs. He glanced back into her eyes.
 
“If this office was not crowded, I would make sure you receive my, you’re welcome,” Michael whispered back.
 
Artesia reached for her bra.
 
Michael locked his palm around hers in transferring it.
 
“Thank you.”
 
“For a pleasurable view, you’re welcome.”
 
“If my male acquaintance did not have doubt in his eyes about us conversing, I would make sure you receive my, thank you.”
 
Michael pivoted his head sideways. His eyes returned to Artesia.
 
Tristano witnessed the hankering tête-à-tête between Michael and Artesia. He marched over to where the two stood and settled his presence near Artesia.
 
Artesia pivoted to face Tristano.
 
“Darling, I thought I would surprise you, and entice you to eat me...I’m sorry, to have lunch with me today.”
 
If he can’t, I damn sure will. Where does he know her from Michael thought?
 
“Michael.”
 
Michael lowered his eyes to the outline of Artesia’s breasts, her lips, and then up to her eyes. He swallowed down.
 
“Yes.”
 
“Mr. Giordano, has asked me to co-host his gathering, I would be honored if you could attend.”
 
“Sweetheart, Mr. Barr…”
 
“I will be there.”
 
His eyes traveled to her butter-rum colored skin. Her lips enthralled him.
 
“And you’re sure we’ve never met.”
 
“If we have, I’m sure you would have remembered.”
 
“That I would.”
 
Michael looked over at Tristano’s irritated facial expressions. Lucky mothafucka he thought.
 
“I’m sorry Mr. Giordano. I will not take up any more of your private time. Congratulations on accepting the Barron accounts.”
 
Michael looked over at Artesia.
 
“I’ll see you tomorrow... Miss.”
 
“Please call me Lay’Luna.”
 
“Pretty.”
 
Michael looked down at Artesia’s pedicure toes peeking out her fishnet stockings. Her fine downy hairs covering her pussy, up to her achingly swollen breasts.
 
“And I mean from head to toe.”
 
“Thank you.”
 
Michael looked over at his father and his business associates.
 
All four men turned and walked out the office.
 
Welford turned and followed.
 
“Oh, here is the gentleman’s suit jacket.”
 
“Keep it; it will give me an excuse to monopolize your time tomorrow.”
 
Michael winked at Artesia, turned, and walked to the door. He exited Tristano’s office.
 
Artesia inhaled, and then exhaled.
 
“Wow. That went smoothly.”
 
Tristano spaced his presence and turned to face Artesia.
 
“How in the hell did you get into my fucking office!”
 
“Excuse me.”
 
“Had that client, not been blinded by your nudity, this entire whorish scenario would have been disastrous for this firm.”
 
“I took for granted you do not invite clients to your office after a meeting.”
 
“Today problems do not get solved by people thinking foolishly!”
 
No, he did not just raise his voice at me?
 
“I say you are absolutely correct.”
 
Artesia walked over to where her fur coat laid, lifted it from off the carpet, and put it on. She headed to the door.
 
Tristano dipped both hands into his front pants pockets.

Why was he even upset, he longed to see her today. Was he really chagrined, because his client found her beauty and body breathtaking as he, and never once tried to conceal it?
 
“Are we running again?”
 
Artesia turned to face Tristano.
 
“No, this time, I’m walking, and at this moment, our association is over. You can mail my wallet to me; oh, do enjoy your lunch, Mr. Giordano.”
 
Artesia walked out of Tristano’s office. She strolled to the elevators and pushed the down button. She looked at the fire exit door. She pushed the door open and took the steps.
 
Michael walked out of Welford’s office. He saw Artesia open the door that led to the fire exit stairwell.
 
“Thank you, Welford, I’m sure my company will benefit from Giordano Accounting overseeing our additional financial accounts. Mr. Lemming, can you wrap things up here?”
 
“Certainly.”
 
Michael quickly rushed to the fire exit door.
 
Tristano looked down at the picnic setting.
 
The wrapped red gift box held his curiosity. He palmed his cheeks.
 
“I’m here to make your life pleasurable, not regrettable. Let me in Artesia echoed.”
 
Tristano rushed out his office. He looked down the corridor and hurried to the elevators.
 
The elevator doors closed upon his arrival.
 
He hit the wall.
 
“Shit!”
 
‘The contract is yours.’
 
Michael’s words rang in his ears.
 
“Fuck.”
 
“Tristano.”
 
Tristano turned around.
 
“Congratulations on Barron’s newest contracts.”
 
Welford extended his hand.
 
Tristano shook it.
 
“Thanks man.”
 
“I have to give credit to your sensual accomplice, wherever did you find her? The woman is beyond the word, hot.”
 
“We met on unmoral terms.”
 
“If I was in your shoes, make it mutual, and keep that pussy cumming under the covers. Although, you may have a little competition.”
 
“Meaning?”
 
“Michael returned to my office and signed the contract. He grilled me on your female friend’s name, what is her line of profession, and when and where you two met.”
 
“What!”
 
“Then too complicate matters, I saw Michael chase her down the fire exit stairwell a while ago.”
 
“Had that client, not been blinded by your nudity, this entire whorish scenario would have been disastrous for this firm.”
 
“I’ll see you tomorrow evening. Oh, I will be leaving for the remainder of the day, if I’m needed, call my car phone.”
 
Welford looked at Tristano’s departing back.
 
The man lands a million-dollar account, but can’t take a moment, and relish in it he thought.
 
Tristano entered his office. He walked over to the arranged items spread on the carpet. He squatted on bent knees and gathered everything together. He lifted the ice-bucket and rotated the champagne bottle inside.
 
“Cristal. You really messed up big time, fuck!”
 
Tristano stood and placed the items on his desk. He returned to lift the champagne flute glasses, Crystal bowl of grapes, and the cheese board.
 
He walked back over to his desk and placed the items near the other items. He walked back over to the square wrapped gift box and lifted it from off the carpet. Like a little boy, he shook it.
 
Tristano walked around his desk and positioned the box on the surface. He sat down and pulled his chair under his desk. He untied the red bow, and then ripped the wrapping off; he lifted the box top and set it aside. He lifted the scented envelope, opened it, and slid the card out. He read it aloud.
 
“Something old, something new, something naughty, and something blue.”
 
Tristano smiled and placed the card on his desk. He unraveled the tissue paper and lifted a blue silk tie, his and hers matching black robes, a pair of metal red furry handcuffs, and a receipt for a new cell phone. He lifted the card taped to it.  
 
“Since you destroyed mine, it’s only fair that you replace it.”
 
Tristano placed all the objects on his desk and lifted his Platinum credit card. He unfolded the two receipts wrapped around it and read, “Mason’s Catering for sixty people, and Murphy Cellular.”
 
Tristano sat back in his chair and swiveled it around. He could not believe the woman took the time to shop for him, plan a gathering for him, and his thank you, was to allow her to walk out on bad terms.
 
“Ohh shit, her cell number.”
 
Tristano turned his chair around. He lifted the receiver out the cradle, placed it up to his ear, and glanced down at the card containing Artesia’s new cell phone number.
 
LA’FERRIE RESTAURANT
SoHo
 
 “I remember my days in college were interesting. Had students, who looked like you, roamed the campus grounds, I’m sure it would have been less tedious and formal.”
 
Artesia smiled.
 
Michael lifted his glass and took a sip of his Domaine de la Romanee Conti wine.
 
“What college did you attend?”
 
Michael placed his glass back down on the table.
 
“Yale.”
 
“A handsome scholar, if I’m allowed to say so.”
 
“I see Princeton has sultry students among the population.”
 
Artesia blushed.
 
“What made you select the criminal justice field of studies?”
 
“A family legacy.”
 
“Oh, how so?”
 
“My father is a judge, who sits on the Supreme Court, and my mother is the DA for the district of Washington, D.C, the list of attorneys in my family is endless.”
 
“Wow.”
 
“You’re telling me.”
 
“By the way, who is your father?”
 
“Judge Wockivoi.”
 
“Very firm on principles, but a fair man indeed.”
 
“I’ll make sure I tell him you said that.”
 
Michael cleared his throat.
 
“Lay’Luna, how did you come to know Mr. Giordano?”
 
Her cell phone rang.
 
“Excuse me.”
 
“Certainly.”
 
Artesia lifted her purse from off the empty chair, opened it, and located her cell phone. She flipped it up and placed it up to her ear.
 
“Hello.”
 
“I need to see you.”
 
Artesia held her finger up to Michael. She rose from the table and walked into the restaurant’s foyer.
 
“Tristano, please do not call me; you made the decision to push me aside, something you will have to deal with.”
 
Tristano slicked his hand back through his hair.
 
“Artesia, I apologize. I want to make this up to you. Could you stop over my residence, say in an hour?”
 
Artesia inhaled.  
 
She really did want to see him. She wanted to feel the rapture of his dick pushing her pussy beyond its limits.
 
“I can’t, I’m having lunch as we speak.”
 
“Are you alone?”
 
“I would be a liar, if I say yes, and you once told me, you do not bed such.”
 
Tristano gritted down on his teeth.
 
“Are you with Mr. Barron?”
 
“Bye Tristano.”
 
Artesia flipped her cell phone down.
 
“Being rejected is not so fun is it.”
 
Artesia placed her cell phone back inside her purse, closed it, and returned to the table.
 
Michael stood.
 
“Is everything okay?”
 
“Yes, thank you for asking.”
 
Artesia sat, followed by Michael. Artesia placed her purse back down on the empty chair.
 
“I took the liberty of ordering dessert to go.”
 
“Handsome, and very perceptive.”
 
Michael smiled.
 
His straight white teeth complimented his alabaster skin-tone complexion. His goatee was professionally trimmed, which added character to his barbered short haircut. He wore his expression in his walnut colored dark-brown eyes. She noticed her had a cleft in his chin; she immediately thought of Tristano.
 
Artesia wondered did Michael lift weights; his physique, was defined by brawniness, and a capacious chest wall.
 
The double breasted-black suit jacket he wore, fitted every muscle in distinguish taste.
 
Artesia looked at Michael’s lips.  
 
“Barron, is your surname Irish?”
 
“It goes back to my Irish ancestry, however, this man here, is all American.”
 
He winked at her.
 
“All American you say.”
 
“The hard part that matters the most.”
 
“Yum...Yum…”
 
“A delectable dessert is in store for the beautiful woman, if she so desires it.”
 
“Dessert, uum.”
 
Artesia leaned forward.
 
“Now, are we speaking in reference to the sweetness served on a plate? Or, your intimate reply to the sneak preview you received earlier?”
 
“Okay, you found me out. Yes, I’m thinking about you emotionally surrendering while lying under me.”
 
Artesia blushed.
 
“Which brings me to reiterate my question. How did you come to know Mr. Giordano?”
 
“Actually, we met in this particular restaurant by unusual circumstances.”
 
“Are you two a couple?”
 
Artesia lifted her glass of wine and took a small sip. She placed her glass back down on the table.
 
“In your words, define couple.”
 
“Is he the man maintaining your free time?”
 
“Eloquent put, and no he is not.”
 
“So, I take it, if I ask you out soon, it will not be a hindrance from another.”
 
Artesia leaned over the table and whispered, “I guess we will have to wait and see.”
 
“I find your character quite refreshing.”
 
“I could be a handful.”
 
Michael looked at Artesia’s lips.
 
“I’m sure you can. Would I be out of line, if I ask what your ethnicity is?”
 
“An honest question, therefore, no. My joint heritage bloodlines are, Hawaiian and Argentina.”
 
“I’m sure you’ve heard you are a very beautiful and sensuous woman.”
 
“I do not mean to sound conceited, but it’s been mentioned in passing.”
 
Michael looked at Artesia from across the table.
 
“I would love to be given the chance to get to know you much better.”
 
“Who knows what the future holds.”
 
“I’m hoping you in my arms.”
 
Artesia smiled and lifted her glass of wine. She took a sip and replaced the glass on the white tablecloth. She glanced down at her Cartier.
 
“It’s time for me to get back to New Jersey before traffic consumes my time.”
 
“I thought you will allow me that pleasure alone.”
 
“Quite candid, I admire that quality in a man.”
 
The waiter appeared with two take home bags.
 
“Just in time.”
 
Michael stood, walked around the table, and assisted Artesia out her chair.
 
“Thank you.”
 
“You’re welcome.”
 
Artesia lifted her purse from off the chair.
 
The waiter handed Michael the two bags.
 
“Come again.”
 
Michael and Artesia strolled to the exit door of the restaurant.
 
MANHATTAN UPPER EAST SIDE
740 Park Avenue
Manhattan, New York
 
Tristano’s Penthouse
 
Tristano took a sip of his Brandy. He pivoted to lift his cell phone from off the wrought-iron table. He flipped it open and pressed the redial button.
 
His call went straight to a voice-mail.
 
“Dammit!”
 
He really did not want to leave a message.
 
“Artesia, I need to see you, I...I need to give you my wallet, I mean your wallet. I left a key-card, with security at the security desk. In addition, I apologize for my choice of words earlier…I really need to see you, possibly, this evening.”
 
Tristano flipped his cell phone down. He walked in the direction of the bathroom. He palmed his solid dick.
 
Boy he needed to see her.
 
LA’FERRIE RESTAURANT
SoHo
 
Michael escorted Artesia to her vehicle.
 
“Are you sure I can’t entice you to share this dessert with me at my residence.”
 
“Can I take a rain check?”
 
“Yes. This weekend, I have an engagement in the Hamptons; please say you will join me.”
 
“Michael, I’m not a woman who concretes any confirmations, without looking at my upcoming agenda. Can I call you?”
 
“I thought you’ll never ask.”
 
Michael placed the two bags on the hood of Artesia’s vehicle. He dug inside his suit jacket breast-pocket and took out his business card. He handed it to Artesia.
 
Artesia dropped the business card in the side pocket of her fur.
 
“Hopefully, I will see you tomorrow, and that goes for the weekend as well.”
 
“I’m sure you will.”
 
“I meant to ask you, do you ride?”
 
“Yes.”
 
“Good.”
 
Michael nodded his head. He looked at Artesia’s lips. Her skin was flawless, and her eyes held an obscurity behind them.
 
Michael reached inside Artesia’s fur and grabbed her by the waist; he slowly pulled her to his chest.
 
“I have been waiting to do this.”
 
He tilted her chin and slowly descended his lips to hers. He pulled her closer.
 
Oh, my, my, my, the man’s lips were so gentle on hers.
 
Michael’s lips traveled to Artesia’s neck.
 
“Don’t keep me waiting too long,” he whispered in her ear.  He kissed her earlobe and inched back.
 
Michael looked down into Artesia’s eyes.
 
“You feel good where you’re at.”
 
He caressed over her derrière.  
 
“I’m displeased you will not be joining me at my residence this evening, nevertheless, I’m patience enough to wait.”
 
Michael stepped back. He opened Artesia’s fur coat and fingered her breast nipple. His palms rubbed over her flat midriff, and down farther. He stroked her clitoris.  
 
Artesia looked around the deserted parking-lot. She pivoted and reached up for a bag. She opened it, reached inside, and slid out a Styrofoam container.
 
Artesia opened it and dug a finger inside the cool whip, splattered with chunks of pureed strawberries; she smeared it over Michael’s lips. She grabbed him by his tie and pulled him to her. She kissed him, without giving him any room to exhale.
 
Michael pulled Artesia closer. He cupped her breasts together and squeezed the swollen mounds.
 
“Mmm.”
 
Artesia inched back and looked around. She lifted a chunk of pureed strawberries and smeared it against a breast nipple. She closed the container and pushed it back inside the bag. She pivoted to face Michael.
 
Michael bent his head down. His tongue lapped at the sweeten fruit.
 
Artesia palmed the sides of Michael’s face, and coaxed him.
 
Michael’s lips skimmed across Artesia’s skin, under her chin, back up to her awaiting lips. He kissed the side of her face and leaned his forehead against hers.
 
“You have me so weak for your company.”
 
“That’s a good thing, right.”
 
“I’ll let you be the judge of that.”
 
Michael thrust his groin forward.
 
Artesia felt the meaning against her pelvis.
 
“I say that’s a very good thing.”
 
“Totally provocative.”
 
Michael leaned his head down and kissed Artesia’s cleavage. His tongue snaked up to her chin. He kissed her lips and stepped back. Out of his peripheral vision. He saw a couple walking toward the parking-lot. He closed Artesia’s fur.
 
“We will definitely finish this later.”
 
“Yes, we will.”
 
Artesia reached up and lifted both bags from off the hood.
 
Michael opened the door for Artesia.
 
“Thank you.”
 
“One could only hope.”
 
Artesia handed the bags to Michael. She got inside her vehicle and pulled the door close. She pressed in a button; her window automatically dropped.
 
Michael leaned his face down and kissed Artesia on her lips.
 
“There is no need for this; my sweet craving is for you only.”
 
Michael handed Artesia the two bags back.
 
“Thank you.”
 
Artesia placed the two bags on the passenger seat.
 
“Drive safe.”
 
“You also and thank you for lunch.”
 
“A man’s loss, is another man’s gain.”
 
Michael winked at her.
 
Artesia smiled, and snapped her seatbelt. She inserted the key inside the ignition, started her vehicle, and backed up. She blew at Michael as her vehicle exited the parking-lot.
 
“Intelligent, beautiful, and available, or is she?”
 
Michael walked back to his limousine.  
 
His chauffeur opened the back door for him.
 
Michael climbed inside the limousine. His chauffeur pushed the door close and walked around the limousine. He opened the door, positioned his presence behind the steering wheel, and pulled the door close. He twisted the key inside the ignition and maneuvered the limousine out the parking-lot.
 
WHEATFIELD ESTATES
Old Westbury, New York
 
Michael’s Residence
 
Michael took a sip of his Brandy. He tossed the remaining liquid in the fireplace. The fire crackled. He sat the empty glass on the fireplace mantel. He licked over his lips.
 
The residue of strawberries met his tongue.
 
Michael walked over to his desk and took a seat. He lifted the telephone, pressed in several numbers, and placed the receiver up to his ear.
 
MANHATTAN UPPER EAST SIDE
740 Park Avenue
Manhattan, New York
 
Tristano’s Penthouse
 
Tristano pushed his plate of food aside and stood. He walked out the kitchen and strolled onto the rooftop terrace. He planted his palms over the concrete walled barrier. He wanted some pussy, knowing how he dismissed Artesia, he knew tonight was impossible.  He lifted his cell phone from off his hip clip, slid it up, and redialed Artesia’s cell phone number.
 
PARK RIDGE, NEW JERSEY
 
Artesia’s Residence
 
Artesia closed the door to her walk-in closet. Her cell phone rang. She looked down at the bedside clock. She walked over to the dresser, lifted her cell phone, and flipped it open. She placed it up to her ear.
 
“Hello.”
 
Tristano closed and reopened his eyes.
 
“How was your lunch date?”
 
“Fine, if you count the dessert afterward.”
 
“I see. This dessert, I assumed it was served on a plate.”
 
“No, from off my skin.”
 
“I see.”
 
Tristano palmed his cheeks.
 
“You let that bastard touch you!”
 
“Can I help you with something, Mr. Giordano?”
 
“If I tell you, would you!”
 
She imagined the intensiveness of his coal-black hypnotic eyes.
 
“Tristano, I have an engagement. Take care of yourself, and as I stated earlier. You can mail my wallet to me.”
 
“Lay’Luna wait.”  
 
Tristano heard silence on the other end.
 
“Hello.”
 
Artesia smiled.
 
This was the first time he ever called her by her first name.
 
“I’m still here.”
 
“I would really feel safe, if I could give you your wallet personally.”
 
“You would.”
 
“Absolutely.”
 
“You can leave it at the security desk in a manila envelope.”
 
“I do not want to trust your vital information with a stranger.”
 
“Am I making this difficult for you?”
 
“The moment you stormed out of my office, it’s been downhill from there.”
 
Artesia blushed.
 
“I do wonder why.”
 
“Artesia, I really do apologize about my demeanor earlier, and ruining our lunch date.”
 
“You were extremely insensitive, and very demeaning.”
 
“I know. Baby, I really need to see you tonight. All you have to do is say yes, and I’m on the road.”
 
Artesia thought about Tristano’s apology.
 
“Tristano, I’m sorry, I’m seeing someone…”
 
“Since...”
 
“Aah... Since this afternoon. Am I to blame that another found my whorish scene fascinating?”
 
“Mr. Barron.”
 
“I have to go, my date is here, bye Tristano, and take care.”
 
“Dammit Ar…”
 
Artesia flipped her cell phone down.
 
It hurt to tell him that. However, a woman should never be disrespected, or made to feel non-appreciated. He’ll learn that concept either her way, or he won’t learn it at all.”
 
Artesia lifted her purse from off the dresser, opened it, and dropped her cell phone inside. She closed it and walked out her bedroom.
 
The doorbell rang.
 
Artesia walked to the door. She looked at her reflection in the oval mirror stationed behind her door. She fluffed the lazy curls shrouding below her shoulder blades.
 
Artesia took a deep breath and opened the door.
 
“Wow.”
 
“Am I at the right address?”
 
Bradley ducked his head back to look at the overhead address plate.
 
“Get in here you.”
 
Bradley crossed Artesia’s threshold. He closed the door behind his entrance.
 
Artesia walked forward.
 
The split in her long white silk skirt accentuated her legs from behind. He loved the way the soft material molded her curvaceous hips.  
 
Bradley looked down at Artesia’s derrière.
 
“We can skip the evening and go straight to bed.”
 
Artesia turned around.
 
The matching bustier bra displayed her flat midriff. Her breasts practically spilled over. Minus any jewelry linked around her neck, other than the belly chain drooping around her waist. Her bronze-skin tone, had a natural radiance to it.
 
“Damn, come here woman.”  
 
Bradley reached out, wrapped one arm around Artesia’s waist, and pulled her to his chest. He kissed her lips.
 
Earlier his lips made her knees weaken, now, no desire.
 
Bradley inched his face back.
 
“You ready for a night of passion?”
 
“I did not spend a fortune on this outfit for nothing.”
 
“I’ll make sure your money is well spent. Are you ready Mrs. Morris?”
 
“It’s not going to happen.”
 
“One day, it will.”
 
“You uttered those same words to me four years ago.”
 
“I was young, dumb, and full of cum then.”
 
“Young, and full of cum, but never dumb.”
 
Bradley leaned over and kissed Artesia.
 
“Thanks baby.”
 
He grabbed her hand.
 
Both headed for the door.
 
 
 
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