Now, another issue is pressing and since my driver is at least fifteen minutes away, I do the only thing I can think of. I toss the paper cup in the trash, wave my hand in the air and flag down the first passing taxi to take me to the Liore boutique.
***
It's the most erotic instance of déjà vu I've ever experienced.
As I walk through the door of the boutique my eyes instantly gravitate toward Isla. She's near the back of the space with a female customer.
Her hair is different today. It's wavy, as if she let it dry on its own before she ran her fingers through the golden locks. Her dress is pale blue, fitted and framed in lace. She looks innocent and angelic. She looks nothing like she did three nights ago at Skyn when she was escorted from the club.
I'd left the private room and had stood in the shadows listening to her speak with the female manager who had been sent to accompany her home. She was sweet, sexy, and irresistible as she tried to wrestle her clutch purse away from an asshole that had no right to be near her.
I'd watched in both horror and fascination as her clutch opened revealing everything she'd tucked inside it before she'd arrived at the club.
The condoms and money were expected. The handcuffs caught me off guard.
I haven't touched a pair since college when I'd used them on a woman I met at a club similar to Skyn. She was sure it was what she wanted but when she'd heard the click of the metal closing around her wrists and I parted her legs to fuck her, she'd panicked.
I fumbled with the key as I unlocked her, trying to comfort her but the slap across my face had stilled everything.
She'd left my dorm room in a huff with the handcuffs still attached to one of the posts of my bed frame. I'd tossed them in the trash along with her number.
I prefer softer restraints. Fabrics that have enough give to allow a woman to feel comfortable, yet enough strength to hold her exactly where I want her to be.
Isla's preference is metal. Although judging by the condition of her handcuffs as they hit the floor a few feet from where I was standing, they've rarely be
en used, if at all.
That might speak to her experience or lack thereof. Either way, it's becoming harder to ignore her.
"Mr. Foster, you're finally here."
I look to my right to where Cicely is standing, her voice conveying the same panic that her text message had.
"Cicely, the building isn't on fire. I don't see anyone with a weapon demanding money." I gesture towards the crowded sales floor. "If there's an emergency here, I'm not seeing it."
"I didn't mean it was that kind of emergency, sir." She's wringing the pair of lace panties within her knotted fists so tightly that I wouldn't be surprised if they ripped in two.
"Don't manhandle the merchandise."
"I tried calling Wallis but it goes straight to voicemail." She sighs heavily as her eyes survey the boutique. "I found something in one of the change rooms. I don't know what to do with it."
I have no idea why I didn't call her before I raced to the boutique. Actually, that's a lie. I know why. The reason is blonde, effortlessly beautiful and now bent over to retrieve a bra that the customer she's helping has dropped. I wanted to see Isla.
"Will you look at it?"
"Look at what?" I can't pull my gaze from Isla. She's laughing. Her eyes dancing over the face of the woman she's helping. It's obvious why she sells more product than any other sales associate in this store. She's captivating. Who in their right mind could walk away from her?
"It's in the back office, sir." Cicely's hand rests on my forearm. "I'll show it to you now."
I turn my head to look at her hand. "I don't have time for this. You're the manager. Your job is to handle anything and everything that involves this store."
"I know. I do. I just don't know how to deal with this."
"Are you like this with Rowan?" I ask out of sheer frustration.
Foster Enterprises employs thousands worldwide. Each of those people has to report to someone above them within the company's hierarchy. For Cicely, that's Rowan Bell and right now, I'm cursing the fact that I sent her to Europe at all. She should be back here, holding Cicely's hand to get her through this latest non-crisis.
"Like what?"