I dug my phone out of my pocket, shoving the white rectangular device to my ear, I groaned at the caller ID, but answered anyway.
"You had better have a good reason for interrupting me on this lovely Californian afternoon," I spat annoyingly.
A deep voice erupted from the other line of the phone, right before a hearty chuckle escaped from his mouth, "good to see you haven't changed, sis."
"He hasn't seen me in four years and he thinks he knows a guy?" I say, laughing at my attempt to tease him.
"Enough of the chitchat, get back to the point," I heard a deep voice that sent shivers right to my core in the otherwise silent background. I don't recognize the voice, but I could already tell he was probably the most compelling, sovereign individual you would meet.
It only peeked my interest to see a face to match the intonation.
I caught my brother clearing his throat, trying to act intimidating.
"Listen, sis, I need a favor. My entire reputation and the Ferrari is depending on you. You need to come to New York," he says in such a menacing tone. No doubt wanting to show off to his friend. He thinks I'll just do it? With nothing in return for me?
Why that son-of-a-bitch, literally, demands a favor? After he so recklessly gambled on me without my knowledge? He thinks that he is almighty and just because he got our parents corporation he calls the shots, just like that, and only to tell me that I need to do him a solid.
"No," I say sternly, "and if you ever contact me again Beckham, I will-"
"You don't have a choice here, "sis", you have no job, no house, but a mutt and a red Chevy named Callum. If you don't come willingly, well," he scoffs, the low raspy and angelic voice says, "I'll just have to come and get you, La Mia dolce," the voice that isn't my brother's whispers.
(18+ EXPLICIT CONTENT)
"Attract a lot of attention, huh beautiful?" His voice hit me like a wall, absurdly catching me off guard. It was deep, sensual, something any girl (or boy) could melt over. I was sort of speechless, yet trying my best to appear unafflicted.
"Only the wrong ones." That was definitely drunken me talking, as I didn't usually have that much confidence. His lips twitched up into a smirk, expressing that he understood my comment.
"Does that mean that I'm in that category?"
My palms began to grow sweaty and my heart rate picked up, but otherwise my body remained relaxed, appearing completely fine. It similar to when you're on autopilot, completely withdrawn due to intoxication.
"I suppose not," I crossed my arms, putting on this seductive persona just for him. This fueled his smirk, about to murmur another comment before I cut him off. "You'll have to show me, though."
***
Amelia Hollis was a 23-year-old writer at one of the local publishing companies, assisting a very handsome man and writing articles left and right. Her and her best friend, Aviary, lived together in a cute little apartment off the central part of the city, yearning to create new memories and important moments. Amelia always lived for the moments, taking in every little detail and savoring it like it was her favorite meal. She was an optimist, hoping to change peoples lives with her dreams.
James Vallette was a 34-year-old CEO, building his company from dirt with the help of his brother. He was a realist, not really having time to deal with dreams or even love. He knew this the night he laid eyes on Amelia.
It was only casual; what harm could a one-night stand do? Oh yeah, he's her dad's boss.