“Tell her I’m in Bali for the rest of the month.”
“I think she plans to surprise you with a visit,” he said apologetically.
Ned was one of the only people in the world I would trust with my life. He had been with our family for over two decades, and helped me keep it together when my dad passed away, six years ago today. It was the day of my MBA graduation and I was supposed to leave for a vacation to Spain that night; I had no real plans, no rush to hurry into a career. He had a stroke, and all of a sudden I was left without a father and without my youth, and with the South National Bank empire as compensation for my loss. Every single day of my life since that day six years ago has been dedicated to growing what my dad had built, to honor his legacy, to take his company further than his wildest imaginations.
This left no room for friends or any kind of social life outside of what the business demanded, and I couldn’t be happier about it. There would be parties and overseas cruises and models in penthouses, but all for the business, all to convince shareholders and investors that I made them happy and that their money was best suited in my expert hands. The models in penthouses were the only mildly pleasurable part. Generally though, any social situation was an arena for manipulation and cunning, and just another way to build on my dad’s empire. People tended to hold me back and there was no room in my life for a pause.
Ned was, in some ways, my only friend.
“It’s okay. I’ll take care of it, Ned.” I sighed. “You don’t worry about it.”
When I got to my desk, I was welcomed by a slew of emails. The union in the Nashville branch was organizing a third strike this year and had closed up for business. What a bunch of fucking babies. I was all for fair wages and benefits; so much so that I had been invited to a local TED talk to address the importance of solidarity and understanding between company executives and the lowest level employees. I turned down the invite – only people who don’t practice have time to preach – but was subsequently featured in ZEN magazine for running the only set of banks in the nation that paid even the cleaning staff over twice the minimum wage. The first union strike hadn’t phased me—it would have almost moved me if I were capable of such a thing—and I had raised companywide salary. The second time and onwards it had just started to look like they were testing how far they could push me. I felt a tremor of anger as I dialed Tom, the Nashville VP.
“Shut it down,” I said sharply.
Tom huffed and puffed some words that faintly resembled coherence, but my attention drifted away from the problem at hand as I saw Aria Roberts walk into the building and towards the teller’s booth. She had a fascinating body. Not stunning in any traditional sense. I had fucked far too many supermodels to be excited by infinite legs and plastic breasts. Aria was what could only be defined as cute. Cute in the sexiest way possible. She had a petite figure and couldn’t be much taller than 5’3, if that, and it suited her heart-shaped face and bright brown eyes. Her long red hair covered half of her tiny body, ending slightly above her lower back. Her breasts were on the smaller side, but all I needed was a mouthful. There was a mouthful there for sure, and plenty to spare. What really stood out was her perfectly round ass. It was bigger than most of her and I wasn’t sure how she could fit that curve in her small body and still walk with a stride. I was getting hard just looking at her through my glass door.
“Zay? You there?”
I snapped out of it. “What? Uh… I don’t wanna hear it Tom, I don’t wanna hear any of it. Just shut it down, alright?”
My eyes drifted towards Aria again. When would I get the opportunity to throw that little body into the air and fuck her brains out? Would I ever? The fact that I had to ask myself that question surprised me. Never before had it been a question of if but when, with any woman: actresses, models, athletes—they all gave in eventually. But I couldn’t seduce a teller in my own bank! They usually begged me to take them any way I liked, anywhere I liked. Some just gave in right after their first interview here – they never actually made it to work afterwards, though. I didn’t do repeats and I didn’t like the idea of employing girls that would be too distracted fantasizing about me to get their jobs done. I usually sent them to work for a business-partner or another shareholder with the highest recommendations, so I wasn’t exactly making them suffer. That would be Aria’s fate too, and perhaps the knowledge of that made her shy away from me.
Or maybe she really, truly, genuinely had no interest in sleeping with me. The way she shrugged off all my advances with confident scorn and polite laughter surely suggested that was the case. That fascinated me endlessly. She had told me she was single, yet she seemed to turn men down right and left. I knew she was a junior in college. Perhaps between the coursework and working almost full-time hours at the bank she simply did not have time for some fun. Maybe if I gave her the right kind of incentive and somehow assured her that she will be compensated for her company more generously than she was for her job…
But I realized I had already tried that and she was still not interested. I was back at square one, at a complete loss. I had unions to deal with, people to fire, emails to respond to, but all I could focus on was a twenty-year-old girl’s ass. All I cared about was finding a way to get her into my bed.
I was hovering on dangerous territory, but I loved a good challenge. I picked up the phone again and watched her answer from the teller’s booth.
“South National Bank, how may I help you?”
She was looking towards me. She knew.
“I can think of so many ways.” I grinned. “None that would require your clothes, though.”
She chuckled, flashing her dimples. It was a nervous laugh. I made everyone around me nervous; it was the natural reaction I had come to expect from people over the years. The reaction coming from her was a source of thrill because she hadn’t gave into me yet.
“Did you need something, Mr. Sinclair?”
“Well, first of all, I need you to call me Zayden. Zay is fine too. Can you do that for me?”
“Okay Zayden,” she sighed heavily. “You’re watching, so you know that took everything out of me. I like to be professional.”
Mrs. Brian, the other teller on duty, looked at Aria disapprovingly. She had worked for this bank for many years, and had seen my shenanigans with many different women.
“I could take so many things out of you, Aria.” My face was serious now. Wanting. “Just give me a chance to show you. I’ll make you feel things you never thought you were capable of feeling.”
She looked away. I was beginning to get irritated that I couldn’t get through to her.
“Thank you for the very generous offer, Mr. Sinclair, but I think I’ll pass for now. Please let me know if you need anything.” She paused for a second. “Anything else, I mean.”
She hung up, leaving me more ridden with desire than before.
CHAPTER 3
ARIA
My roommates Nick and Stacey were having the hardest time deciding on the kind of pizza to order, as the three of us curled up on our living room couch watching Friends.