223.
Seaux stared at the protruding gold trimmed numbers of the fancy corner condominium on New York's most prime real estate building. It was blurry and a little past 3 AM. Her clothes reeked of cigarettes and New York City terrain, aired out by the town car's unforgiving pace in the city that never sleeps.
She should have went home.
Today had been hell on the job as well as her firm. Social media was drowning with #MeToo's and sensationalized reactions that held no precedent to the actual event. Fucking athlete! Ruining her day, and her counterparts at ESPN refused to do due diligence. Hopping on the claims of allegedly, to avoid being sued or legally reprimanded.
So what was a girl to do? Call off work. Delegate tasks for her office's representatives and drink her time away. Shit hadn't hit the fan like this since undergrad when a scandalous sex tape of a problematic collegiate football player and cheerleader fell into her lap. Seaux was ruthless back then and willing to force her hand to break a story....but it was 2019. Thankfully, she had since matured.
Seaux thought she looked beautiful when she first left the house. Dressed in a bardot white silk top that sensually hung off both shoulders with ivory fitted high waist pants that accentuated her ass to thigh to hip ratio. In the moment, Seaux wished she had more hips. Some that made her look like the angles Instagram models would receive thousands of likes for after thirst trapping. Though the ones she had were noticeable for her frame. Well, that's what her friends regurgitated every chance they got. Got Seaux all worked up just to change into a lace and satin dress. Smooth fabric gripped both thighs at the edge of the hem. Rilynn and Zen weren't shit. The professional anchor didn't know how she was coerced into being prepped for a high end hoe stroll.
Sober Seaux would never.
Coming to slurred senses, there was no need to knock. Residing behind the door frame was once a man that got so waisted, Seaux had to bring him back to his own condominium and take care of him. The gentleman had a hangover so bad she used a sick day to nurse him back to health. While out gathering her infamous shake back recipe, Seaux got a copy of his key made. Just in case it was ever a fire and no one was available to unlock the door. Shit! It was New York....anything could happen.
Seaux clumsily unlocked the door, entered the code on the key pad, stumbled and damn near missed how to latch the door back to its original stance. Not paying attention to her own orientation, Seaux tripped onto the hard wood floor in six inches, "Fucking Loubs!" She winced, and like clock work her prince showed up after midnight.
Lounged in satin pajama trousers and no shirt, Bijou spoke aloud as he walked towards her, "You're a fucking mess."
Bijou
The doorman rang his residence as soon as she stumbled in the lobby. Every attendant seemed well acquainted with the woman's antics. Never once seeming distraught when ringing Bijou's telephone line with a warning. Damn. He'd been here a million times with her. The girl he fell for in college and kept close until she decided to be ready. The woman he wanted to have his last name...
It had been almost a fucking decade and still no commitment. Other women would swoon at the chance to be with him. Bijou was the next rightful heir to his families old money and made quite the name in the world of finance. That still wasn't enough for the ambitious journalist to submit. She wouldn't allow herself the vulnerability of being all the way in or even trying with Bijou.
Fucking Seaux Guedon.
The beautiful media torrent had tripped into the decked out living room, unaware of Bijou position for the last twenty minutes. Settled in and leaning on the kitchen's counter top, waiting for a familiar drunk to tipsily make an entrance.
Guedon didn't know what boundaries meant and had been that way since he'd known her.
Meanwhile, Bijou's girl was in his bedroom tucked away...sleep.
Boundaries?
They didn't exist when it came to Seaux.
"Fucking Loubs!" Guedon grimaced while falling to the floor. Lessening the impact by using her right hand to press against the hardwood as the left grasped a newly injured ankle in tension. Bijou's mood was anything but amused, "
A fucking mess. That's what she was. And in that moment Bijou wasn't too contrived to let Seaux know it. His verbal annoyance was blunt, "You're a fucking mess."
"I knowww. I need help," she ached while rubbing the left ankle.
Bijou kneeled in front of his little disaster and removed the structured stilettos from each foot. Kneading his hands into inflamed but supple skin, silently admiring her pedicured toes. Seaux rolled over to prop up on both elbows, mildly exhaling in relief.
"Does that feel better?" He soothed. A blunt shoulder cut bob carved her face exquisite. High cheek bones, plump lips, brown eyes with auburn specks that would entrance any onlooker...Seaux was breath taking. With her Crazy ass...
He massaged and rolled her foot in hand, checking for any immediate swelling or displaced anatomy. "I think you just twisted it Seaux," Bijou quickly turned and shook his head. Her satin dress with a lace bodice fit her waist and ass like spandex, but caused her pink flesh to flash his irises when parting her legs. Bijou swore she never wore panties, "Come on. Let's get you up stairs."
Sweeping her up in his arms, he hushed Seaux to quiet the drunken whines that might wake his girl up. Then Bijou would have a whole lot more to deal with than the after math of Seaux and her notorious clientele. Seaux stumbled over her words. Mad that he let someone other than her sleep in his bed. Bijou felt stupid trying to tip toe with his 6'3 frame up to one of the guest bedrooms. This woman had him creeping in his own residence.
"Damn, Beckham and Adams must have really done a number this time." He exhaled. "Can you even breathe? I feel like I'm going to hurt you trying to take you out of this tight shit Guedon."
Two words: cornbread fed.
Bijou begged the heavens that he could get through this like a decent human being. Being a Christian, a person of moral character, and above all things...a man in a committed relationship. Seaux had always done what she wanted when it came to him, but Bijou needed to move on. This woman couldn't make up her damn mind. She was all over the place.
Hopefully, his girl slept throughout the entire night and Bijou could convince her to leave early enough so the two women couldn't run into each other. Familiar with her track record, anytime Seaux drank like the she'd sleep late into the afternoon. That would buy Bijou enough time to get his girl out the house due to her being an early riser.
He could do it. Some how....Bijou could pull this off.
He'd finally gotten her naked frame into one of his workout shirts, "Sit up Seaux. Let me tie your hair up."
