Trivial Pursuits

Dear Readers,

Thank you for all your feedback! I have appreciated hearing from you. This chapters a doozie, so grab your beverage of choice, sit back and enjoy!

Big thanks to AlreadyTaken.

Titania

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CHAPTER ELEVEN

"I need a love that's strong

I'm so tired of being alone

But will my lonely heart play the part

Of the fool again

Before I begin

Foolish heart, hear me calling

Stop before you start falling

Foolish heart, heed my warning

You've been wrong before

Don't be wrong anymore"

"Foolish Heart" Steve Perry

Alessa took a step back away from the car so she could bend down to peer into the dark, back seat and search with scowling eyes for the face that went with the familiar hand.

"Get in the car, Alessa," Denny commanded. Her first reaction was to think he no longer appeared upset with her. Her second reaction was that she was now upset with him.

"What game are you playing?" she demanded through clenched teeth.

She heard his sigh, though she still couldn't see much of his face. "Sweetheart, please, just get in the car and I will explain everything to you."

She straightened herself slowly and looked back at Jacob Andrews. "The supply side, huh? You get whatever he wants?"

His expression was what one might consider stoic, but even in her anger she didn't miss the gentleness in his eyes that offered a sort of comforting sympathy. For the time being, there was nothing to do but go along with Denny's request, and so reluctantly she sat down in the car and slid in.

"Where are we going?" she demanded to know as Jacob got in the driver's seat and pulled away from the curb.

"To The Ritz-Carlton."

"What!" Alessa scooted back from him as she turned to square off. "Absolutely not. I don't know what you think is going on here, but I am not obligated to do

anything

but carry on a conversation. I am not going to any hotel. Even the Ritz."

"I am fully aware of the rules," he answered, and as the lights of the city flickered past, she could see his triumphant smile.

"Then why a hotel?"

"Because I knew you certainly wouldn't be comfortable going to my place, and it would be rude and presumptuous to expect to go to yours."

"Then why not stay at the party? Or go to dinner?"

"Oh, we'll have dinner, but for a twelve-hour, private conversation, we'll need something more secluded and available for that long."

"Denny, if you think I'm staying one minute longer than my obligated three hours, you're insane."

"Twelve," he corrected smugly.

"What do you mean 'twelve?'"

"I only refer to the contract you signed."

"As do I. And I read that thing thoroughly. I'm only obligated for three hours."

Denny reached into his inner jacket pocket. "Read it again, Sweetheart," he instructed handing it to her. He flipped on the light in the back.

The first paragraph was exactly as she recalled, and Alessa was about to comment to the fact, but then she realized the second paragraph significantly changed the parameters of the date and her responsibilities. Denny was correct; the contract with her signature stated the date was to last no less than twelve hours, and what was more, Denny was allowed to ask her anything, to which she undertook to answer all his questions honestly and to the best of her ability.

"This, this isn't the contract I signed," she argued at last.

"But it is. See there? That's your signature. It would hold up in any court. And given that it is just now midnight, that means you are mine until noon tomorrow," he replied with a smile.

"Denny, this is some sort of a trick. You switched them!" she gasped when she finally realized what must have happened. "You purposefully spilled your coffee on the contract that I read and then had me resign this phony one!" she accused indignantly.

"You can't prove that. What you

can

do, is make a very big ruckus, accuse me of actions you can't prove, be held responsible for the full seventy-five thousand, lose face and possibly your job, and ruin everything you've spent the last fifteen years to build." His tone was calm and cool and unaffected by the untenable plight he had maneuvered her in.

"Let's face it. You got rattled, and you became sloppy. If you hadn't been in such a hurry to get out of that copy room, you might have done a better job protecting your interests. But as it is, you've only set yourself up to look like the most irresponsible associate we have had in quite some time. I say associate, because anyone making this sort of bungle never made it to partner," he remarked almost cruelly, taking the paper from her numbed hands and waving it before placing it back into his jacket pocket. "So, unless you want to derail that glittering career you've worked so hard for, I suggest you play along for the next twelve hours."

Alessa was quiet as her mind scrambled to cope with her deleterious blunder. She was tempted to call him a name defaming his character, but the impulse faded as she wondered how she was going to fix her mess. But then she realized she didn't even know what Denny had planned. Admittedly, twelve hours of conversation, though that seemed rather long, wasn't such a horrific idea. She wouldn't openly admit it to him, but she rather enjoyed being with him, even if she was simultaneously afraid of it. And it wasn't as if she signed a contract to be his slave or to allow him any sexual liberties he could think of. It was just conversation.

Granted, the last time they had had a heart to heart, it had ended with her spilling her deepest secrets and making out with him in public.

"Denny, what do you want?" she asked at last, weary sounding.

"I'm not going to harm you," he assured, inclining his face to hers. Alessa looked at him, seeking out his eyes in the darkness. "I'm not going to press my advantage. I just want you to fulfill the terms of your contract."

"To what end?" she asked slowly. But his expression was all he offered, though she couldn't decipher it beyond a tenderness that made something inside clench painfully.

She turned to look out the window. She didn't quite trust him, and even more so, didn't trust herself around him, and so held back any further argument as they pulled up to The Ritz-Carlton. An attendant rushed forward and opened Alessa's door. When Denny stepped out behind her, the attendant welcomed him back. As Denny slipped his hand on Alessa's back and guided her through the front door, she turned to look at him, raising a quizzical and scornful eyebrow.

"Settle down," he whispered. "I checked in earlier this afternoon and he valeted my car for me."

"So you don't make a habit of bringing an endless string of women here."

Denny's smile was barely contained. "No, just you," and then he punched the button to call for the elevator.

"You booked the Presidential Suite?" Alessa asked in surprise, reading the placard as he took out his card key.

"I told you," he reminded her, "I wanted to pick something neutral. And as cliché as a hotel room is, I thought perhaps a suite with plenty of space and a variety of sitting areas, and two separate bedrooms should you wish to sleep tomorrow away, would seem less threatening than one with only a large king size bed taking up the majority of the room."

Alessa understood that dealing with large, multinational corporations meant she would have to get comfortable with wealth, but the sumptuous, palatial décor of the suite wasn't something she could take in unaffectedly.

It was hard to believe they were in a hotel at all, she thought, once she stepped into the large, open room. As she looked around, she figured she could fit her small apartment into it three times over, and she was only viewing the living quarters; the master suite was attached at the far right and the guest room on the left. It was richly decorated in woods and endless fabrics. All the furniture was exquisite and detailed, and perfectly adorned with pillows and throws. Through the windows Alessa could see the lights of the city, including the Bay Bridge. And then she saw the double doors that led out onto the expansive balcony.

Denny walked to the large round dining table. It was alight with dozens of candles per his instructions, and food was laid out on it, along with a bucket of ice and champagne.

"I hope you don't mind," he began once he knew she had at last turned her attention to him instead of the room, "but I went ahead and ordered dinner. It's from the restaurant downstairs. One of the best in the city." He uncovered the dishes revealing sumptuous looking plates underneath. "Please," he invited, pulling out her chair.

Still uneasy, Alessa approached to sit in the offered seat. She mumbled a thank you as he helped her scoot closer. When he sat adjacent to her, she followed his lead, taking her napkin only when he did, picking up her fork only because he had. He offered her the chilled champagne.

"Not sparkling wine?"

"No, Sweetheart, this is Champagne. Not sparkling wine," he answered with a grin. "I think this bottle is almost three-years-old. A very good year," he commented before lifting up his glass to salute her and then taking a sip. Alessa followed suit, taking a sip of the bright and effervescent drink.

After they had eased comfortably into their meal, Denny spoke. "Did you enjoy the party?"

"Present company excluded?" she quipped with a sour smile.

Denny laughed at that, but then looked up from his food, his eyes sparkling in the candlelight. "Was I that bad?"

Her lip was curled in disdainful disbelief. "How can you ask that? You were a jerk, yet again. And we were having such a nice time. It's...peculiar," she admitted with some trouble finding the right word, "that you went to all this trouble, all this

expense

to get a date with me when you couldn't be bothered to act civilly at the party. Don't you think you would have gotten further by simply acting nice to me instead of bidding on me cloak-and-dagger style and secluding me away in a creepy, albeit nice, hotel room?" She arched an eyebrow, challenging him to defend his behavior. And then her frown deepened as she recalled their unpleasant interaction.

"You kissed me. Again. But you didn't mean it," she accused softly, but then she glared up at him. "You didn't do it because you wanted to. You did it because you were angry. I didn't like it. Don't do it again," she warned.

"What?" Denny asked leaning forward to place his elbows on the table, a light smile playing at the corners of his eyes. "Kiss you or not kiss you when I'm angry?"

Alessa opened her mouth to say when he was angry, but instantly recognized that for the trap it was. "Don't kiss me unless I give you permission," she clarified at last. "And stop smirking, because it won't ever happen again."

But Denny couldn't help but smile, knowing he was going to make her rue her words.

She rolled her eyes. "So what was with you? You weren't jealous that I danced with Hyun-Joong, were you?" she asked as she started in on her food once more. "After all, wasn't that the purpose of the evening? To mingle with clients?"

Denny narrowed his eyes, recalling that the jealously he had felt wasn't simply because she had danced with another man, but because he had believed she wanted to date that man after she had refused all his advances. But that was before he had stood in a candle-lit room watching hidden from a crowd. And he knew he had been wrong.

Max had claimed Alessa was riddled with insecurities, and as she stood there before a wealthy and elitist mass, head high and smile dazzling, he knew Max was right. For despite the bravado she displayed, her eyes darted to him on more than one occasion. Not with a smirk or taunt, but with a plea. He had seen her vulnerability then, and knew instantly that even though Hyun-Joong was bidding for her, it wasn't his friend she wanted. She wanted him. And in that look, all his ire had faded away, and once again he felt like an ass.

"I thought you were trying to tell me you wanted..." but he wasn't certain he wanted to admit what he had been afraid of.

"Yes?" she asked, not angrily, but a little sore, a little raw and waiting.

He pursed his lips and gave a short shake of his head. "I thought you were trying to tell me you wanted to date Hyun-Joong," he admitted at last and lifted his eyes to hers. "That all the excuses you made to justify rejecting me were just hiding the fact that you simply didn't want me."

His candid answer left her feeling somewhat uncomfortable. She also felt a tinge of shame that she was not as honest, not as brave, with herself or him.

"You're right," she began. "I am attracted to Hyun-Joong. And I appreciate his attention." She could see him tighten up, the line of his lips becoming firmer. "But, if I were interested in dating someone, and I'm not, I'm just saying if I

were

," she interjected her confession with that false caveat, "he wouldn't be my first choice." Her words were somber and her eyes were clear and open.

Denny was silent as he stared at her, feeling a rush of attraction and wishing for nothing more than the freedom to lean across the space separating them and kiss her. And so he eased the tension inside with humor instead. "Oh? And who would be your first choice then?" he leaned on his hand, smirking at her, his eyes batting once or twice.

Alessa gave a small laugh, the tension breaking. "You are so..."

"Charming? Handsome? Romantic?"

"Full of it?" she supplied tartly, before taking the last bite of her food. Denny laughed out loud, and reaching for his glass of champagne, sat back to watch her happily.

She was smiling at him and sighed contentedly as she finished. "Denny, thank you for dinner. That was wonderful."

"Oh, we're not finished yet."

"Denny, I don't think I could eat another bite."

"Oh, tosh," he chided softly. "This chocolate cake is a classic and I insist you eat every single bite," he instructed as he lifted the serving cover of two small plates. A slice of layered chocolate cake sat on each one. He passed one to her and then started in on his own. After a few bites, he poured them both the last of the champagne and noticed she wasn't eating her cake.

"It's not going to wreck your figure," he commented drily. Denny watched as she forked off a bite of cake but only shuffled it back and forth on her plate. She clearly had no intention of eating it. With a sigh, he reached over with his own fork, speared the chocolate piece, and offered it up to her mouth. When she only frowned at him, he raised an eyebrow in warning. "Open," he commanded. But her mouth only tightened further. "Sweetheart, just take a bite."

She rolled her eyes to cover her melting response to hear him call her sweetheart and opened her mouth. Denny saw the sharp flash of pleasure as the delicious cake hit her tongue. Alessa kept up pretenses of not wanting it, but kept chewing, and eventually resumed eating the cake on her own.

As their meal was coming to an end, Alessa dreaded not knowing what was to come next, and so hoped she could talk him into letting her leave. "There, I finished the cake. Can I go now?"

"Sweetheart, we are just getting started. Now, feel no obligation, but in planning for this evening I thought you might be more comfortable in clothes other than what ever dress you found to wear. They're laid out on the bed, if you'd like to change."

Alessa's eyes slid to the open double doors of the master bedroom before looking back down at her gown. It was just slightly snug, especially after she'd eaten dinner, and the rhinestones were scratchy in places. It would be nice to change, but she didn't know if she'd feel comfortable by getting

more

comfortable with Denny. But if she really was going to be spending the next twelve hours locked up in the suite with him, she knew she didn't want to spend it in the dress. With a reluctant sigh, she stood to go change.

But as she did, Denny stood also, blocking her path and looking down at her. She glanced up questioningly.

"But, before you change, I was sort of hoping," and he took a step closer, and for a moment just looked down at her. Then slowly, without any more words, he let the fingers of both hands trail down her bare arms until they were at last twining their fingers together. Slowly, as though with caution to not frighten her away, he pulled her to him, one hand slipping about her waist, the other locking their hands together. Alessa allowed herself to be pulled into his embrace, though with a weary caution. "Will you dance with me?" he whispered against her temple. "I didn't get the privilege at the party," he explained as his body began moving to the silent music in his heart.

Alessa fleetingly thought he only had himself to blame for his missed opportunity, but the feeling of his arm around her, their bodies moving gently together, was so irresistible in its perfection that she bit her tongue to not ruin the moment. Her lips were pressed against his collar bone as her slumberous eyes stared dreamily over his shoulder. She seemed to melt a little further into his embrace.

For Denny, he couldn't recall a more fulfilling moment as her body pressed perfectly into his. Though he had known his pursuit of her was deeper than a simple need to satisfy loneliness and peruse female companionship, it wasn't until that moment that he felt a swelling wave of something, wondering vaguely if it could be love. His arms tightened slightly more around her as he swayed their bodies rhythmically together.

At some point while she was in his arms, Alessa murmured with a trace of trepidation, "Denny, what are you doing to me?"

He pressed his lips against her temple. A hand cupped her cheek, turning her deep blue eyes to peer up at him, their bodies separating ever so slightly in order to look at her. It was there inside, the confirmation that yes, he did in fact love her. But at the moment, he knew it wouldn't alter his course, only solidify his determination, and so he took it in stride.

Instead of answering, he gently shoved her away and murmured, "Go change. We'll talk after." She took a few steps around him, watching him until she could tear her gaze away and focus on escaping him for the present.

She was down to just her underwear when her phone chimed a text notice. She picked it up, and with a groan remembered her arrangement with her friend. Lou wrote she was sorry the text was late, she'd gotten distracted by Richard, and then asked how her date was going.

Alessa punched the phone symbol next to Lou's picture. She stood in the dark room with only a cascading light falling from the bathroom en suite. "Hey!" Lou said from the other end, a smile evident in her voice. "How goes the date?"

"Lou," Alessa whispered, "listen, I'm in a bad way here. I don't know what to do."

"Uh-oh, what's going on? Did he turn out to be a monumental creep?"

"No, no," she answered, keeping up the whispering so Denny wouldn't hear her from the other room. "The guy wasn't the real bidder. He was bidding for-"

"Let me guess. Denny?"

"Yeah, how'd you know?" She could hear Lou's squeals of excitement and peals of laughter. "Shh! Keep it down. This isn't funny!"

"Maybe not funny, but definitely exciting! Tell me, where are you at? What sort of romantic date has he planned?"

"It's not a romantic date. At least, not in the traditional sense. Lou, he's taken me to a hotel-" Once again she was interrupted by Lou's whooping laughter. "Will you stop that? He's gotten a suit at the Ritz. And he says he just wants to talk. I have to answer his questions. It's part of the contract I signed. What am I going to do?"

"Why can't you answer them?" Lou asked as her laughter died to a giggle escaping here and there.

"Because...well, there are things...I don't even know what he wants to ask," Alessa admitted at last.