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Post by verdoux on Feb 2, 2012 22:09:26 GMT -5
 He let two weeks passed before he called Isla, because he wasn’t sure exactly what he was feeling. Isla was the second woman in his life he had slept with – the first being his deceased wife. He immediately assumed he was in love with her, but he had to take a step back and list out what was expectation and what was reality. The reality of their relationship was strictly professional, but his expectations were he could make it somehow blossom into love. He had to be truthful with himself but he found it increasingly hard to not bog his memories with delusions he made up. First, he picked Isla because she was a call girl and therefore, his father wouldn’t tell he was sending in a spy. His father was most probable to think she was changing her lifestyle and as his personal assistant, it was giving her the experience to do so. Then after two weeks of letting her settle, he invited her over for a business dinner. Hugo had cooked one of his favorites after admitting he had paranoia of letting people feed him. In a bizarre twist of luck, a spice he used caused Isla to have an allergic reaction. He had acted fast, finding his medication for his own allergic reactions to help her through it. In the end, she had to sleep in Kate’s old personal room for the night. In the morning, his dick had won over and he attacked her with his lips, a burning need washed over him but as soon as it crashed, doubts, worries, fears overcame him and he left her in his house. He knew it had hurt her, because she was used to being used for sex, but he didn’t know if truly touched her past the point of feeling not good enough. It was funny, but Hugo knew hardly anything about Isla, but he felt comfortable with her. Enough to joke, to laugh and he pursued her. He had waited two weeks, his normal time to wait and debate (if it was not obvious)) before he sought her out. A woman of her caliber had to take care of her family. It was a Friday and he knew, she must have forgot, that his father didn’t hold business meetings on Fridays or work in general. He took a shot in the dark and hit up the strip of stores and eventually he found her outside a boutique. Eventually, they made eye contact and she booked it down the road. He followed, not wanting to lose sight of her. She went into a store and he followed ending up trapping her in a dressing room. There they had sex and it was everything Hugo needed. He never wanted to sleep with her from the start, but along the way of knowing her it had happened. He didn’t know exactly when, but he swore on his good fortune that it was not planned. He loved Isla’s way of speaking, presenting herself, her pride, her red-hair, and how she thought everything over before she spoke. It was admirable and he respected her for it. Just as he knew, waiting for her at Francesco’s Fine Dining He wore black slacks, a simple grey tee, a red and white striped scarf, a denim jacket and his wool coat that he rarely had a reason to wear (but he was able to wear thanks to the freak snow storm and cold) draped over his chair. He was nervous that she wouldn’t show or maybe he was nervous that because today, this meeting that he held dangerously in a public place would destroy his father’s empire. He didn’t know if he could do it, because it would cause pain to Isla’s sister and that would cause Isla pain. Hugo didn’t want to admit it, but he had feelings. He couldn’t admit it aloud to her, it was just too soon and he had a feeling that she wanted to end it today. He knew it would be awkward, but he was prepared. When he saw her red hair and tiny body coming toward him he stood and pulled out her chair. “Evening, Isla.”
words - 700 || outfit - here
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Post by steph5 on Feb 3, 2012 13:33:13 GMT -5
He had come back.
The phone call came in shortly after Hugo told her to meet up two weeks after they had done the dirty deed. She planned on calling it quits, realizing she was getting to close to a client, breaking the rules he himself had set forth, and that there was a conflict of interest. Her sister was going to marry his brother and she couldn't have her sister's life be ruined at her hand even if it was indirectly. She handed him the information. He did what he wanted with it. She was cleaning her hands now and not worrying about it until it was time to. But now, she was worrying about something else entirely...
He was in Sapphire Bay and he was calling her cellphone.
Looking down at their smiling faces as she stepped gingerly into the taxi cab, she felt like the air was sucked out of her. That picture had been taken over a year ago at his vacation home in The Hamptons. They were kissing in the picture...She was supposed to delete it when he broke everything off, fired her, and met someone else as the media had boldly put out there. One of the East Coast's most eligible bachelors was about to be taken off the market. She stopped keeping track of him after that. She'd just been his call girl. That was it. His temporary girlfriend so the media and his family would leave him be-so he wouldn't look lonely and pathetic. But there he was kissing her in the picture, his sandy blonde hair and chiseled jaw...His strong hand with his fingers entangled in her hair on the back of her head to keep her close. Her very first client and the one who had set the standard for the rest that followed.
Answering the phone, she knew she was just on time to meet Hugo but she couldn't help but answer. Standing outside the restaurant, she remained silent until he spoke, "Isla..." he said her name as if out of breathe, "Say something? Please..." He'd always been the hopeless romantic types and she bit her lower lip to keep from wanting to scream obscenities at him for abandoning her the way he had, making her feel worthless and why? Because she didn't have money like he did? Because she wasn't as prominent or come from a well respected family like he did? "No," she said it firmly and sternly to prove she was better off without him, somehow, with that little statement. Was she really, though? No, she wasn't. She was still in square one and the process was repeating itself with Hugo. She refused to let herself get damaged that way again. Hadn't he been the one to tell her that? Attachment was the worst thing a human being could ever do to another.
"I'm in California...I thought I'd stop by to see you. Are you busy?"
Are you married? She wanted to ask him but she swallowed back the comment, "Yes. I'm about to meet with a client and you're going to make me late," she replied boldly before he seemed to chuckle as if amused, "Still giving out The Girlfriend Experience, huh? Tomorrow night then. I'll even give you a check like the old days." If she was going to quit Hugo, she knew she couldn't pass up the offer. She'd need to save every penny for when Hugo brought down his father and, in turn, brought down Sabby's dream wedding. Isla would have to pay for everything herself, "Fine," she said after a moment of silence, "For the paycheck. Not you. When and where." After he mentioned everything, she promptly hung up without saying goodbye and entered the restaurant with a new fuel and fierce determination in her bold eyes. This was it. Now or never.
"Evening, sir," she said simply as she let a waiter take off her coat and hang it on the back of her chair Hugo pulled out before she sat down and crossed her legs at the ankles, hands neatly on her lap. Her hair was half up and half down, pinned back with a rose barret that matched her ring. She looked polished as always but the impending doom was there in the tension. Had she enjoyed her time with Hugo Charles? She'd be lying if she said there were moments she didn't want to jump his bones and felt some strange kindred to him but overall, she'd rather lie and remain in denial. He was just another client and she couldn't get attached or every time he called, she'd be reacting the same way as when Adam called and she couldn't have that. Not now or ever. Not if she wanted food on the table and a roof over her head, "How have you been," it came out more as a statement than a question, her phone vibrating in her bag but she ignored it, preferring to take a sip of her champagne instead.
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