Prettiest Girl in the Room

She scrounged through her mind and then did indeed remember a last page to his fax that she had left unread. She now supposed he might have been asking her if she'd like to see what he had in mind up close and on site. She hadn't read it because she really hadn't been interested in how he planned to spend the banks money. She had only wanted to save her job.

She again eyed him carefully. He seemed harmless. And he also seemed like the kind of guy that could quite easily have any woman he wanted. Still she was certain that he must have known from her strategic flirting that she was someone he was going to have to "wait" for if he was indeed interested. A surge of intense curiosity now hit her. If his gesture to show her his mansion and explain the desired improvements was above board, then she felt she would probably enjoy seeing a mansion for a change, and hearing how someone was going to burn ten million making it look even better. She steeled herself to the idea of indeed taking him up on his show and tell offer, as long as he didn't plan on getting cheeky.

"Is it far?"

"Pardon?"

"This mansion of yours. Is it far?"

"The address wasn't in my fax?" he asked innocently.

"I don't live in that neighborhood," she managed. "And so I'm not familiar with that area or where it is, and if I did go to see what kind of renovations you're contemplating, then I would have to be back home at a decent hour."

She sensed that he now picked up on what she was trying to say. She would indeed visit his fabulous mansion and listen to him ramble on about how he was going to dispose of all that money. But when all was said and done, she needed to escape unscathed, and that meant keeping her skirt and bra on. If he had been thinking to get her under the sheets then he would have to think again. She wanted him to get it into his thick, 'entitled', 'privileged' skull that she wasn't an 'easy' girl. Surrender, where she was concerned, took time, maybe days, maybe weeks. Maybe even months. Maybe even half a year. It would all depend on how he played his cards and how much they might end up liking each other over time.

"It's only about a half hour from here. I can show you around for half an hour and have you back home in no time."

"Sounds yummy," she said. "Count me in."

"Are you two ready to order now?"

Candice listened as he placed his order, and then suggested that she let him place her order for her. She found the idea exciting.

"You can go ahead and surprise me, sure. Order anything for me you like, as long as it's seafood."

"Those were my sentiments exactly," he confessed, his gaze becoming purposeful, dreamy and languishing someplace in between her stunning eyes and her daring cleavage. They both knew that he wasn't going to find a sexier woman anywhere.

He spoke to the waitress in measured tones. He was taking control without acting controlling. Candice found herself swooning as he spoke. He had the body of a Greek God, a sparkling personality and a face that was so damn easy on the eyes that she could imagine herself staring for days at a time if the opportunity ever were to present itself. Still, she'd had her heart broken badly once before, and had no desire to almost lose her mind again. Her relationship with this exciting and impressionable millionaire author had no place to go but higher and hotter, much hotter. She waited until the waitress scooted off with their order before letting him know the rules yet again.

"Just in case you were thinking of one day becoming romantically involved with me," she said sternly yet softly. "I'm a no nonsense kind of girl. A man has to clearly and concisely declare his intentions before I'll take the bait."

He stared back at her cautiously. Obviously the chemistry was such between them that passion and lust could erupt at any time. She wanted to make sure that if it did, he understood she was strictly a 'strings attached' kind of girl.

He suddenly told her he had to use the bathroom, and she poured herself some wine as he walked carefully down the aisle. As she watched him, she tried to imagine it being a church aisle. She wondered if he might make a good husband. He seemed to be a guy that could bring his girl goosebumps on her goosebumps, but there were dangerous and serious risks to such a venture. For one thing, being the world's greatest romance novelist was a too edged sword. Yes, his lips and fingertips and that impressive bulge in his pants could probably bring her night after night of unending multiple orgasms, and even creative, thoughtful conversation. But what about all his female readers that were so easily led astray?

Not all women shared her view of having a monogamous relationship. Some women, even the prettier ones with curvy assets like hers, might like the idea of getting naked first and asking relationship questions later. How would such a man react to all that gut wrenching temptation? Book signings with starry-eyed females constantly swooning at is adorable feet? Female fans following him around, not caring if they threw themselves at him the way kamikaze pilots flew themselves into enemy vessels? Big chested wannabe wives, flashing their boobs and desperate to spread their legs regardless of whether their intended million dollar hero was already married or not? She wandered about the plausibility of starting up such a scary and risky relationship. Would it not be doomed from the start?

Candice began to weigh her options. Sure he was gaga over her now, but would he still be lavishing such shameless attention on her when other hot looking female readers were dropping like flies at his well-manicured white feet? The thought sickened Candice. For all she knew, maybe the immortal Eric Holding changed women the way most men changed their socks, which was pretty much every day.

Eric lived in a mansion, and probably had luxurious vacation hideaways bought and paid for. Having his money would be nice, but that would not be her main focus. Having a man that would continually, consistently and constantly lavish compliments, love and affection upon her and upon her only, was what she was really after in a relationship.

She also wanted a man she could trust to be faithful and to stay faithful, someone who would have eyes only for her. But how would that be possible for a man who had hundreds of jaw dropping women lined up to have their books signed every day. She had seen firsthand the way some of the women in that line had been ready to faint in his presence. Candice wondered if she handle being married to a man that would spend every waking moment talking and mingling with other women.

Her cell phone went off. She checked the number. She recognized it as one she'd seen before, but she had to struggle to remember the owner of it. And then it hit her. Gerald!

Should she answer it? She glanced toward the washroom. She was a woman that demanded the undivided attention and absolute focus of any man dating her. She was loathe to answer it and let Eric catch her doing so. If he found her on the phone during a 'date,' then he would obviously assume that what was good for the goose was good for the gander. She hated a man taking calls when she was trying to converse and have dinner with him. She was smart enough to know that a busy man like Eric would undoubtedly have dozens of people trying to reach him at any given time. She didn't want him to think it would be okay for him to be answering unending calls throughout any future dates they might have.

She let her phone slip into voicemail. As much as she would love to let Gerald know about the approval of his loan, she couldn't risk letting Eric see her on the phone. She didn't want him to think it was okay for him to be chatting with agents and fans and whoever else might be crawling out of the woodwork.

The sight of Eric suddenly appearing in the hall made her realize he had probably only needed to take a quick piss. She was glad she had found the self-discipline to not pick up when Gerald was calling. And then the thought hit her. She could always take her phone into the bathroom when Eric returned and give Gerald a secret call. And then she thought, was that maybe what Eric had done? Perhaps feel his phone vibrate then rush to the bathroom to speak to some rabid female fan? A streak of jealousy began to consume her. She wasn't even Eric's official girlfriend yet and already the thought of him interacting with other women all day long was driving her nuts.

Still, he was absolutely gorgeous, and as dangerously charming as he was filthy rich. If she wanted to get her marriage minded claws into him, then she was going to have to learn to share the good with the bad.

"That was quick," she said, noting a drop of pee on his shoe that hadn't been there when he'd left. He had indeed taken a piss and not made plans to let some big breasted bird fly over early in the morning to go skinny dipping in his pool.

"So how and when did you first decide to be a writer?" she asked.

He sat and began making small talk about how he would find himself writing on napkins, or on scraps of paper or even walls or anything he could find from a very early age. And he kept right on talking as he refilled her glass with more delicious head fogging wine, and then filled his as well.

While he was talking she only pretended to listen. Strangely, she felt the urge to rush to the bathroom with her phone and let Gerald know about the approval. A hundred a fifty thousand to make all his dreams come true, and hers, if she were ever to quit the bank and maybe become a manager for his fast food dream. There was tons of money to be made and the thrill of starting from scratch, then building up a business into something wildly successful, was not front and center in her mind. Having money just handed to you on a silver platter was not as satisfying as having to work hard and long for it, but in the end, knowing you had accomplished your dream, well, just how sweet would that be?

Eric continued to talk. And Candice continued to pretend to listen. She had always been like that. Watching men swoon unapologetically at her feet and hear in awe as they whispered sweet nothings like powerful, unstoppable waterfalls. And from there she would try to imagine what life might be with any man she might start seriously dating. Or what life might be like if she were to actually move in with some guy. Or maybe what life might be like actually being married to him.

She sighed in confusion. The fact that Gerald's phone call had garnered her attention and gotten the wheels in her mind turning were nasty omens. Her heart and mind were finicky places that she sometimes had no control over. She preferred dating white men, but although Gerald was black, he had not turned out as rough around the edges as she first thought he'd be. She had early on hastened her assumptions while mistakenly stereotyping him as someone who was womanizing, demeaning and abusive. It now appeared that nothing could be further from the truth. He had turned out to be very personable, helpful, intriguing, caring and thoughtful. And of course, he was a very hot looking guy, no question, and right up there with any other hot looking guys she had known, including Eric.

She took a long swig and watched as Eric's baby blues became more enticing and more purposeful. Only now they were up to their old tricks, roaming back and forth between her own gorgeous brown eyes and her dangerously bullet tipped chest. Still, she didn't hold it against him. At least he was trying to keep his eyes on her sweetly sculpted cheeks, and silky smooth lips.

And then there was Brian, a repentant rogue who was now willing to work with her and begging to hold out an olive branch in the shape of an apologetic dinner. And she had already agreed to attend such a dinner to be given the following day in her honor.

No doubt Brian would be singing her praises and looking to perhaps start up a relationship. She still didn't believe the wacky, silly gossip that Brian preferred cock over pussy. She was certain Brian had a serious crush on her. And she was even more certain that he would probably want to further take her heart and mind into an ever murkier abyss of simmering love and confusion.

Brian was an equally handsome piece to a puzzle that was as formidable as it was unimaginable. Three of the hottest and nicest guys she had ever met, all chomping at the bit to make an impression. From time to time she had, in the past, come across one such memorable hunk, but to come across three such memorable hunks in one day? Talk about fate overplaying its hand.

She was aghast at how her first day on a long anticipated job, had not been as boring and as unexciting as she had supposed it might be. Instead, all her senses were on high alert. All three men seemed to be enraptured with her stunning looks, dynamic personality and irresistible sexiness. They were wrapped around a little black finger that was now beginning to break with their uncompromising weight.

Who to choose? That was the question. At first, she had supposed that Eric would be the clear favorite, the white man of her dreams. But then, why was she still thinking so mightily about Gerald and his dream? Not to mention the sudden fantasy she now had about quitting the bank and building some kind of takeout empire with the black man of her dreams? And somewhere in all that was the realization that Brian simply couldn't stay mad with her, and seemed hell bent on getting on her good side even if it killed him. And tomorrow she would be spending the evening listening to him no doubt tell her how nice she was, and how much he would like to get to know such a quality lady so much better. Three men, all with different good ways, and all looking so scrumptious and delicious, just as though they had been cooked to perfection then served up on a platter for her to sample and...and...

Her mind suddenly flew back to the here and now. Thinking on three men at once was a sure fire recipe for disaster, just as how allowing her heart to wander off unsupervised in three different directions was patently inadvisable. In such a scenario, who could say for any certainty just exactly where a woman's heart would end up?

"Here we are," the waitress said unexpectedly, catching both Candice and Eric off guard as she sat their dinner down in front of them.

Candice's line of concentration was broken momentarily, and a strange feeling began to sweep over her. She had gone to college a little late in life. Most young women graduating were in their early twenties. But she had not gone to college until she was twenty-three. And that was five long years ago. In just a few short months she would be turning twenty-nine. Thirty was right around the corner. If she wasn't going to try and nail down a lifelong male companion now, then just the hell was she going to do it?

Sooner or later, Candice knew that if she kept on kicking eager men to the curb, then she was going to start looking old. Many women carried their ages well, but many did not. Candice frowned at the thought. What if she was one of those that was always going to look her age? She now wondered if that was what had taken her a full six months to get the damn loan officer job since graduating. Most human resource officials expected recent grads to be a pristine twenty-two, not an over the hill twenty-eight, going on twenty-nine.

XXX

She lay back on the soft vinyl couch by her fireplace and began to meditate. She had just gotten back from a very wonderful dinner with her extremely personable and penitent boss, Brian. He had told her his life story, and had touched her heart with his tales of how he'd helped a lot of charities that were near and dear to her heart, such as shelters for abused animals. And she had spent her second lunch hour in a row with the ambitious and lovable Gerald. He had hinted that they would make a great pair working side by side building up his new restaurant empire should she ever get tired of banking and want to quit the bank to take up a job helping him in his dream.

Her mind now shifted to yesterday. She still fondly remembered the intriguing night before, where she had been wined and dined by the impressive Eric, then whisked away after desert to his equally impressive twenty million dollar mansion. It was a mansion that was about to be endowed with a ten million dollar facelift. Such numbers couldn't help but blow Candice's mind. She was languishing as a loan officer making peanuts. And now she was mired in a predicament that saw her being wooed by three anxious men, any one of which might make the perfect candidate for Mr. Right. But were any of them truly right for her? She was an exceptionally sexy and pretty woman. Many men would make tempting promises to try and entice her into their arms.

Candice knew instinctively in her heart of hearts that most women her age would love to have her predicament, and that was three incredible good looking, talented men who were interested in her and trying to impress her. For Candice, however, the stakes were somewhat higher and more muddied. Eric was a multi-millionaire, the kind of famous novelist who could give her a fairy tale life and fulfill her every desire. But he also came with a lot of baggage, and before she jumped both feet into the dating ring with him, she wanted to make sure she had properly analysed all of the ramifications.

Eric had thousands of adoring female readers who were devoted fans. They were always going to be writing him letters and lining up to have him sign their copies of his books, and trying to meet him whenever the situation arose. Some of those women would undoubtedly fall in love with not only his books, but with him as well, and they would become obsessed, wanting to throw themselves at him. Candice cringed at the thought.

Brian, on the other hand, was very fun loving, down to earth, extremely likable, and a man whom tugged mightily at her heart strings by championing her causes, but he had a vile temper, and was prone to sudden and violent outbursts.

She didn't think he was the kind of man that would be too controlling, or too obsessed with jealousy over other men, or too emotionally and physically abusive. That being said, with men like Brian, you simply never knew until it was too late. She would have to make sure his bad ways were not things that would control him over time. Like Eric, the jury was still out on Brian. That was especially the case since there was a simmering storm cloud on the horizon, left by Mable's words. They were words that now taunted and haunted Candice's mind.

According to Mable, Brian might not really love women at all. According to Mable, Brian might end up courting Candice just to throw his co-workers and the general public off the scent of a bi-sexual guy locked firmly in some secret closet. Candice took a deep breath. She just could not bring herself to believe that Brian liked men. She shrugged Mable's warnings onto the cutting room floor. She had the picture of Brian being her possible white knight in some even whiter and shinier armour.

Finally, there was the ambitious and affable Gerald, making her feel supported in her quest to square things with Eric. She'd only known Gerald for two measly days and yet he'd tried in that short time to smooth out the rough patches in her life if he could, and to always be there to bring her a kind word as well as a kind helping hand. And she had to admit to herself that she found his dreams exciting, challenging and contagious. Still, there were no guarantees that all his dreams and aspirations would, for certain, come to fruition or automatically become successful. Some businesses and dreams collapsed over time, leaving only bitterness, heartache and mountains of debt. Still, she knew that some failing businesses were occasionally rescued by buyers with deep pockets. Sometimes where there was a will, there was also a way.