Sarah rushed into the bathroom and steadied herself with a tight grip on the counter. She took a few deep breaths as she leaned over the sink, then looked up at her panicked expression in the mirror.
How could she have been so stupid?
She'd spent the last five months eliminating every trace of him from her life. She had moved apartments, changed her cellphone, hell, even quit her job to get away from him. She never wanted to see or think about him again.
But when Greg had called this afternoon begging her to take his shift tonight bartending for some company's Christmas party, she had jumped at the chance to earn some extra cash. Quitting her job as a receptionist had perhaps been the best move for her sanity, but that job had at least been salaried with health benefits. Mixing drinks for hotel events had been the best option she could find even if it meant fending off the wandering hands of bored middle aged business men who seemed to think attending out-of-town conferences entitled them to molest the anonymous females that crossed their paths. Not that they ever tipped very well. But at least it was a job and it took her away from him.
But funds were tight, and the chance to earn a few extra dollars right before Christmas had temporarily driven her well established self-preservation techniques out of her head. She hadn't asked Greg, which company's Christmas party this was, she just took the job grateful for the opportunity and geared herself up for acting the part of the young flirtatious bartender in hopes that the holiday spirit might translate into decent tips.
She had been pleased to discover that this party was not set up in one of the generic ballrooms, but was being hosted in the Signature Lounge. With its supple red leather couches and dark wood accents, the room screamed money, pleasure, and power. The other female bartenders joked about how they wished some millionaire CEO would seduce them after one of the events in that room -- taking them on one of the luxurious couches or on top of the expansive bar they served drinks upon. Sarah would generally cringe at their banter, she knew being seduced by a rich CEO didn't always end well.
As the first few guests had tricked in their holiday garb -- the garish red and purple dresses alongside the occasional Santa tie -- she had assumed her bartending persona of confident and flirtatious young woman who appeared to have her shit together. Sarah knew how to play the game well. While the standard bartending uniform -- white shirt, black bottoms -- was required, there were no rules about not sexing it up. Sarah had learned real quick that exchanging sensible slacks and shoes for a tight pencil skirt with heels that gave her ass a nice boost and unbuttoning an extra button on her blouse so that her ample cleavage peaked through when she leaned over to pour a well-shaken martini resulted in a better take at the end of the night. Tonight a deep red Santa hat topped the ensemble off. All she hoped was that it equaled a few good tips.
She was in the process of handing a rather portly man his bourbon and Coke as he made no attempt to hide the fact that he was staring at the curve of her breasts peeking out of her shirt when she saw him. Them to be more precise.
Sarah froze; drink in hand all pretense of flirtation erased. She vaguely felt the drink being taken from her hand, but all she could do was stare. As if he could feel her gaze, Will Carlson turned and looked across the room directly at her and smirked. Sarah knew he was laughing at her. He had the goddamn nerve to laugh at her. His interest caught the attention of the woman next to him and Sarah saw her lips thin as she pressed them together in annoyance.
Self-preservation kicked in then and Sarah mumbling something about not feeling well made her escape from the bar running straight to the bathroom unsure if she was going to throw up or have a panic attack.
Of course, it would be his company party, she thought. The one person whom she had been trying to erase from her life for five long months and she had walked right into his realm. The Dallas branch was huge, and she had barely gotten to know anyone in her brief time there, so it didn't surprise her that she hadn't recognized anyone at the party. But seeing him there tonight brought back every pain and pleasure of their whirlwind romance. From his seduction of her on her first day at the job - a day which had ended with a spectacular fucking session in his office up against his wall of windows overlooking the city -- to the extravagant dates and crazy wild sex they started having at every available opportunity, Sarah thought she had been caught up in a modern day fairy tale. A devastatingly handsome, exceedingly rich, sexually magnificent, powerful man had swept her off her feet and was proclaiming his undying love for her. For the month they were together Sarah kept pinching herself, thinking that it was all too good to be true.
Which of course it was. Like a fool, she thought, she had fallen for him (or maybe it was his sexual prowess) and he had cast her out like she was nothing. Sarah hated herself for having been so naïve and refused to let anyone ever get close enough to take advantage of her again. Even if that meant hiding as far from the memories as possible. Memories that had collided with her tonight.
Sarah was jerked out of her thoughts as the bathroom door slammed open and her supervisor walked in.
"I don't know what you are dealing with, and I really don't care," she said as she gave Sarah a hard look. "But we have a room full of thirsty guest who paid very well for premium service tonight and right now there is no one to serve them. So get your ass back out there behind the bar."
She held the door open, waiting rather impatiently for Sarah to walk out. Sarah knowing that she had no choice but to go and face her demons, drew a deep breath and walked back into the Signature Lounge wondering what it held for her.
As composed as she could be, Sarah strode purposefully back to the bar. There were a number of smartly-dressed younger men leaning casually against the gleaming wood waiting for their drinks and she couldn't help but smirk at the fantasies she was sure her coworkers could imagine having with them on that very bar. Under all the twinkling Christmas lights that edged the wall behind the bar, it would make for a hot fuck. The thought boosted her spirits as she took another deep breath and turned to serve the next guest.
And found herself face to face with her. From the way her lip curled as if she was in the presence of something foul, Sarah could tell that she remembered her and remembered her well.
Sarah flinched, recalling the first (and last) time she had encountered Mrs. Carlson. She had happened to be stark naked on all fours on Will's luxurious King-sized bed. Will was in the process of gripping her ass as he pounded his shaft into her dripping cunt when she heard him say, "Oh, hi sweetie, it's always such a pleasure when you drop by."
Sarah, who had been nearly about to shatter into one of the mind-numbing orgasms she always had with Will, had arched her head backward to see an impeccably dressed woman standing in the doorway of the bedroom. Mortified, Sarah had tried to maneuver away from Will's powerful thrusts, but he tightened his grip on her, roughly pushing deeper into her with every thrust. Unable to move away and paralyzed by the pain and shock of his sudden intensity, Sarah had collapsed onto her shoulders with a sob as he came in her with a grunt of triumph.
With tears streaming down her face, Sarah had seen the woman roll her eyes at Will who remained sheathed in Sarah's pussy he was holding aloft. The woman had then looked at Sarah with a burning coldness in her eyes and said, "if you are done fucking my husband, you pathetic whore, then you are dismissed." Giving Will a pointed look, she had walked out of the room.
Will had withdrawn and slid off the bed, leaving Sarah in a shaking heap at the foot of the bed. She had managed to turn her head and mutter "You're married?" at him, to which he replied with a shrug and a reprove that she had better leave before he disappeared into the bathroom.
Sarah had felt her flight instincts kick in and rushed to the dresser to throw on whatever clothes she could gather quickly since, as she recalled, hers were strewn around the kitchen alongside the glasses of champagne and the whipped cream. So it was in a pair of Will's boxers and t-shirt that Sarah had rushed into the living area and snatched up her purse as she headed straight for the door, doing her best to not make eye contact with the woman standing in the kitchen.
She had frozen though when that same cold voice called out, "you forgot something." Sarah had looked back to see the woman she now assumed must be Mrs. Carlson dangling her lace bra and garter from her extended hand. Inwardly cursing the price she had paid for them, Sarah just as coldly had replied, "You keep them, he seemed to enjoy them," and turned to leave.
As she grabbed the handle on the door, the woman had spoken again. "You're not the first assistant he's seduced. He hires you for your looks, not that yours are all that special, fucks you for a few months, then fires you when he tires of you."
Dropping the lacy undergarments on the counter, reminding Sarah of how Will had tantalizingly taken them off of her not that long ago, Mrs. Carlson continued, "I'm sure he never mentioned his wife in the suburbs," flashing a vindictive look as Sarah stiffened at the truth of her words.
"His office staff are too scared of him to tell you the truth. They'd rather have you be the sacrifice that gets played for a fool than lose their job over trying to be nice. As long as he is distracted by a piece of ass, he's easier to deal with and their jobs are slightly more secure."
"I've done you a favor tonight, but don't fool yourself that you are anything special. You were just an available cunt who easily fell prey to the fantasy of being seduced by the millionaire CEO."
As she spat out her final words, "You were nothing to him." Sarah had wrenched the door open and walked out attempting to hold her head high as she did. It wasn't until she was outside trying to hail a cab while barefoot in oversized men's clothing that she began to shake with the shock of what had just occurred. She had called in sick the next day and had given her resignation the day after that, effective immediately. A week later her personal items had arrived at her apartment with a note from him -- Thanks for the good fucks, maybe we can do it again sometime. No mention of what had happened. No mention of how he had used her that last time. No mention of his wife.
Sarah had ripped his note to shreds and started the process of ensuring she never ever had to lay eyes on him again.
And now his fucking wife was standing across from her wanting to order a drink.
Pretend it never happened, Sarah told herself as she politely said "What can I get you, ma'am?"
"Don't play games with me you little cunt," Mrs. Carlson snapped at her. "You know who I am, don't pretend otherwise. I only came over here for the pleasure of having to make you serve me, seeing how you've fallen so low. I'll take a Chardonnay. Too bad I can't make you serve me on your hands and knees since that's a position you apparently enjoy."
Sarah shakily reached for the wine bottle unsure of what else to do. As she poured, Mrs. Carlson continued.
"And don't expect to talk to him tonight. He knows better than to have to deal with pathetic cast-offs trying to get back into his pants to get at his fortune."
"But that was never..." Sarah started before catching herself. She couldn't give this woman the satisfaction of arguing with her.
