Dex: I’m taking you very seriously. And I want to know more. Now answer my question. What do you want people to know about you?
God, he was putting me on the spot. But for some odd reason, I was warming up to this man. I didn’t really feel like coming up with yet another sarcastic response when, in fact, he’d been nothing but completely genuine with me this entire time. It was much less exhausting to just be honest. So, I simply answered his question truthfully.
Bianca: I’m just a girl who wants to be happy. I don’t need money or a prestigious job. I left Wall Street because I couldn’t hack it. It’s why I do this for a living instead. I am not perfect. I do sometimes carry some preconceived notions about people of power, though. That probably comes from watching my hard-working parents get screwed over by such people over the years. But even in the little time that we have corresponded tonight, I can see that you’re quite different from what I expected. I made assumptions about you that were incorrect. So, one thing I definitely want people to know about me is that I am not afraid to admit when I’m wrong.
Dex: Thank you.
Bianca: Well, you’ve been very open with me. So, I felt I owed you that much.
Dex: Forget the interview. What do YOU want to know about me?
Bianca: If you want the shallow truth, I’m most curious about what you look like at this point. I’m really dying to know.
Dex: LOL. Bianca George, you are definitely nothing if not honest. So…what is it…you think I don’t allow myself to be photographed because I’m grossly unattractive?
Bianca: I didn’t say that.
Dex: But you’re thinking it.
I couldn’t stop smiling.
Dex: Would you like to see me?
My heart started to pound at the prospect of getting to see what he looked like. What was wrong with me? But there was only one answer to his question.
Bianca: Yes.
A few seconds later, he attached an image. After I clicked on it, I nearly lost my breath.
Oh.
It was a photo of a man lying back on his bed. His torso was ripped…tanned…almost bronze. It almost looked fake, because it was just too damn perfect. This was probably the most amazing chest and abs I’d ever seen. The photo cut off at the bottom, only showing the top of his black boxers that had Emporio Armani written on the band in white. A thin trail of hair ran down the center of his defined V muscle. Holy shit.
I couldn’t stop staring at it.
This was not what I was expecting. At all. In fact, I couldn’t believe it. It had to be a fake.
When I was finally able to pry my eyes away from the chiseled bronze statuette of a man, I typed.
Bianca: That is NOT you.
I wished I could have seen her face.
Fuck. I wished I could have done a lot more than that. This chat with Bianca was killing me. I was suddenly hard as a rock, knowing that she was looking at my photo.
Dex: It is me.
Bianca: I don’t believe that. Admit it. You stole the picture from Pinterest. LOL.
My jaw hurt from smiling. After grabbing a pen and paper out of my night table, I wrote HI, BIANCA GEORGE then snapped a photo with it covering my face, making sure that my body was once again on full display. I chose to cut it off at the waist since any lower, she would have seen the rock-hard erection I was sporting as a result of this little exchange.
Dex: Believe it’s me now?
Bianca: Okay, so you’re attractive.
Dex: Why, thank you. But you still haven’t seen my face. I’m afraid you won’t tonight.
An odd sensation suddenly came over me. One I could honestly say I had never felt before. It was jealousy. But not just any jealousy. Jealousy of my own fucking self. Suddenly, Jay wanted to fuck up Dex in the worst way.
Bianca: Are we still doing the interview?
Dex: You tell me.
Bianca: I think maybe we should continue this tomorrow.
I laughed. I guess she was suddenly at a loss for words. This whole thing wasn’t very professional of me, but because I had spent the entire day with this woman, I felt comfortable around her. I couldn’t help it. She also made it very clear earlier that she was attracted to me, so I couldn’t help capitalizing on that tonight.
Dex: Tomorrow night, then? Same time? Eleven?
Bianca: Okay. That sounds good.
Fuck yeah.
Dex: Alright. Sweet dreams.
“Sweet dreams.” I sounded more like a teenage boy than a mogul. Unprofessional, but I really didn’t give a shit. I’d almost called her Georgy Girl, too. That’s Jay’s nickname for her, you dumbass. That cocksucker, Jay. Laughing to myself, I thought about how insane this was. Dex hated Jay because he would be spending time with her in person soon. And Jay fucking detested that rich prick, Dex, for abusing his power to get to know her better.
I hadn’t expected another message from her.
Bianca: Goodnight, Dex.
When had she stopped calling me Mr. Truitt? I didn’t fucking care; I was just glad that she did.
Dex: Goodnight, Bianca.
Georgy Girl.
Sleep wasn’t going to be happening. I was wired. Bianca’s text to that douche nozzle Jay rang out in my mind: Whittle me something small, and you’ll get that kiss you were screwed out of next time.
What better time than to stay up watching wood whittling demonstrations on YouTube.
“I need to make a stop before heading to my lunch meeting,” I grumbled at Sam, my driver, as I climbed into the backseat of the dark Town Car. I’d watched damn YouTube videos for an hour last night and made a list of the supplies I’d need. I still couldn’t believe the shit I was going through for a kiss from this girl. Caroline would kiss me and my cock if Sam stopped and picked up flowers before driving me to her place. Bianca had gotten under my skin.
“Where to, sir?”
“Union Square. 14th Street side.”
The art supply store was enormous. Looking down at my watch, I noted I only had ten minutes before my lunch appointment, and we still had to travel across town. I must have looked as out of place wandering around looking for supplies as I felt, because a woman wearing a blue smock approached as I stood in place staring.
“Can I help you, sir?”
“I’m looking for whittling supplies. Some carving tools, balsam wood blocks, perhaps a beginner’s guide.”
She waved her hand over her shoulder. “Right this way.”
I followed her up to the second floor and all the way to the very back corner of the store. “We have a selection of carving knives.” She picked up a package containing six tools with wooden handles. “This here is a good set. It’s a little pricey at just over a hundred bucks, but they’re high-grade steel, and it has your chisel, a couple of gouges, and a v-parting tool.”
A v-parting tool? You don’t say? I have one of those myself. I took the package from the woman’s hand and also grabbed two bags of wood blocks. “This will do. Thank you for your time. You’re very knowledgeable.”
“Anytime. We had a demonstration here a few weeks ago. The instructor gave out some good tips. If you’re having difficulty, try wetting the wood.”
Yes. I’ll keep wetting my wood in mind.