No Strings Attached Read online

  “Same here,” she said, surprising me even more.

  “Why didn’t you call me then?”

  “I didn’t know what to say.” God, I wished I could turn back time and just start it all over again.

  “Next time, you can just call me and ask me how am I.”

  “Next time?” She smiled sadly. “I don’t think there will be a next time. You are leaving tomorrow, right?”

  “Yeah, I have a flight in the morning.”

  “Well, at least we are not shouting at each other now, and not trying to tear the clothes off of each other, so I think it’s a good sign. At least I can wish you a safe flight and good luck with your business.”

  “It doesn’t necessarily mean that I don’t want those things you just mentioned, at least one of them.”

  “It doesn’t necessarily mean that I mind you doing it. But, um… I think it’s all for the best, right?”

  “I couldn’t agree with you more.” I smiled and bent down to leave a light kiss on her lips. “I also want you to know that I don’t regret a thing.”

  “Neither do I.”

  I couldn’t believe that was it – the end of something that didn’t even have a chance to begin.

  “Can I… call you?” I asked, already knowing that she didn’t want me to do it.

  “Sure,” she said, forcing a smile. I knew she could feel how final the dance we were sharing felt. “How long are you going to stay in L.A.?”

  “I don’t know. It depends on how good or bad things will go.”

  “I’m sure it will all be great.”

  The song ended too soon, and I was so not ready to let her go, even though I knew that I had to.

  “See you,” she said, kissing me on the cheek. Then she turned around and quickly headed for the exit, and I knew that it would be the last time I saw her that night, because she never came back to the party…

  Chapter 17

  Jillian

  Two months later…

  I never thought that the doorbell could sound that damn loud and freaking annoying. I yawned, cursing mentally at whoever was standing behind the door. I was still staying at Scarlett’s apartment, the same one that Oliver and I used to share, and my life hadn’t really changed in the past eight weeks, it was all pretty much the same, except, now Scarlett’s apartment belonged to me.

  After the wedding, she and Dominick went on their honeymoon, leaving me as the temporary head of Wilson’s Publicity. Who would have thought that such a thing was even possible, considering that just a few months ago, I was just a secretary, with tons of work, one hell of a boss to please, and no place of my own to live. Of course, I still couldn’t afford to buy the apartment, but my best friend was kind enough to let me spread out the cost. That’s why I was hoping I would finally be able to unpack the rest of my stuff, I just hadn’t been given the time to settle all the way into the apartment in the absence of the real head of the company; my butt didn’t even have a moment to sit and rest.

  It was Saturday morning, one my favourite days of the week. I knew that I had almost two days off, so I could finally think about things that didn’t have anything to do with business and negotiations.

  The doorbell rang again, I tossed the blanket angrily to the floor and went to see whose neck I was about to twist for waking me up at — you’ve got to be kidding me — seven o’clock in the morning! For a Saturday morning, that is almost the same as the freaking crack of dawn!

  “Coming!” I shouted, hearing my unexpected visitor knocking impatiently at the door.

  “Are you out of your mind?” I stared at my guest, surprised. “What the hell are you doing here?” It was Amalia, one of Oliver’s dolls and the famous expert in his man parts, the same Amalia who made his male malfunction breaking news in the papers.

  “Where is he?” She asked, letting herself in without asking for permission.

  “Who?” I asked, as if I didn’t know who she was talking about.

  “The son of a bitch who posted this article!” She slammed the paper against my favourite coffee table.

  “I would really appreciate if you were more careful with the things that don’t belong to you.” I said angrily.

  She smirked. “Oh, so you think he belongs to you now, am I understanding you clearly?”

  “Hold your horses, lady! First of all, it’s my apartment and you have no right to come here without an invitation. And second, if you are looking for Oliver, why don’t you try to find him somewhere else? He doesn’t even live here, he hasn’t lived here for over two months.”

  She frowned, puzzled. “He sold his old apartment, or at least that is what the clerk said. That’s why I thought he moved here.”

  “Well, he didn’t and I don’t have any idea where else he could be now. So why don’t you get the hell out of here?”

  She smiled, scanning at me from head to toe, “What did he find in you?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “The Oliver that I know would never go out with someone like you.”

  Well, maybe I didn’t look like a model now, still wearing my pajamas and Mickey Mouse slippers that surely couldn’t excel her caramel Dolce trench and a pair of matching Louboutin shoes, but I, at least, was not as much of a bitch as she was.

  I put on my best smile, and said, “What else would you expect from a man whose tool doesn’t work? This,” I pointed to myself, “Is the best that he can afford now.”

  “Figures. Anyway, tell him he’s gonna pay for everything he has done to me.” Then she turned on her heel, and went out into the hall, swaying her hips as she walked.

  I slammed the door shut behind her, dying to punch something or someone, Amalia for that matter. Then I took the paper in my hands and read the title of the article that she was so flustered about.

  MIRACULOUS HEALING.

  One of the most-wanted bachelors of New York and Los Angeles, Mr. Oliver Altier attended a charity auction organized by one of his ex-girlfriends, Amalia Ermari. The auction was supposed to sponsor Mr. Altier’s genital transplant surgery. According to Miss Ermari, it was the only way to save his famous reputation. Almost two months after the statement was made, Mr. Altier issued a response. Before the beginning of the auction, he took the stage and said that he would spend the night with the woman who contributes the most money to the auction for his surgery. He also assured the woman that she wouldn’t regret even one second of the time spent with him. After the auction was over and the winner’s name was announced, Oliver Altier thanked everyone for their participation and their donations, and said that he would send all the money to one of New York hospitals, since he himself, didn’t need any surgery. He claims that Miss Ermari was attempting to take revenge on him for ‘leaving her desires unsatisfied by choosing to not sleep with her’. As for her humorous statement which she made weeks ago, he said that being with a woman like Amalia Ermari can make a man lose all the desire to be with any woman, ever again. Payback can be very cruel, can’t it?”

  I read the last line of the article and burst out laughing. I could have never imagined Oliver humiliating anyone, even Amalia so publicly! Apparently, he was more offended than I originally thought he was.

  I made a cup of coffee and went out to the terrace to breathe some fresh air. I haven’t talked to Olive for weeks. I didn’t know anything about how his business was going. Neither Scarlett nor Dominick asked me about him. So I think they just gave up on the idea of bringing the two of us together. I knew that sooner or later I would have to see him again. And something was telling me that it would happen sooner than I had been expecting.

  Scar and Dom were coming back on Monday, two days before the annual ball that Wilson’s Publicity organized for its clients. Oliver was one of them too, so I had no doubt that I would see him there.

  I looked through the article again and smiled. To be honest, I wanted to know how he was doing. Even though I did my best to not think about him, deep down inside of me, I never stopped worrying about him
. I truly hoped that he got exactly what he wanted. With the promotion campaign developed by our company, I was sure he would reach any goal he desired. The only thing that made the warning bells in my head ring, was the mention of the auction’s winner. Who was she? Did he actually spend the night with her? God, why do I care? It was my decision to stop things with him, right? Then why would I be so scared to see him again, and why would I allow my imagination to go wild about what he might have done when it came to his new mistress?

  I shook my head and went back into the living room, which was still half-covered with boxes that needed to be unpacked.

  Several hours later, when I began to think that I couldn’t stand cleaning and unpacking any longer, I decided I would take a break and order something to eat. I called the nearest pizzeria and asked for a large pizza with bacon, mushrooms, tomatoes and extra cheese. I thought one pizza, late in the night, probably wouldn’t kill me. Besides, I loved food more than unreasonable diets, and thanks to my mother’s genes, I didn’t need to worry about my weight that much.

  The pizza came with a knock on the door, I gladly accepted it and paid the pizza delivery man. After I paid for my midnight snack, I heard my cell phone ringing. I thanked the man, put the box on the kitchen table and went to check my phone.

  When I opened the new text message, I froze, because I certainly didn’t expect Oliver to just start texting me after two months of silence, and definitely not after reading the article in the paper; it would have been stupid to think that he hadn’t seen it. In fact, he probably made sure a journalist was at his charity auction to take a stab at Amalia, especially after what she had done to him.

  “Hey, Beautiful. How have you been doing?”

  Well… I didn’t know what to say. I never expected such a normal message from Oliver, and I was taken aback that it was such a normal message in the first place.

  Then my eyes spotted the damn paper laying on the table, and I typed, “Aren’t you supposed to be proving your man power right about now?”

  The reply came immediately. “I don’t have anyone to prove it to.”

  “Poor thing. How about the winner of the auction?”

  “So you are still jealous of the girls who I decide to spend my nights with, huh? That’s great news :)”

  Uh, I should have known better than to say anything about the woman from the auction, I just gave him a weapon that he could very easily use against me; I pretty much just came out and said, ‘Hey look, I am jealous!’ Damn it…

  “I’m worried about your reputation. You surely don’t want to have the same problem again, right? You don’t want to hold another charity auction for your own genital transplant, do you? They might even be able to create an organization for men with your problem, they could call it the Oliver Altier Foundation for men in need of a genital transplant.”

  “Ha-ha, very funny. I swore to stay away from women.”

  I laughed. “Is that even possible? What did L.A. do to you?”

  “I didn’t find anyone who I would like to play with :)”

  Who would have thought that it would be so easy to just sit and exchange messages with someone I thought I would never be able to get over? Or maybe I just simply missed Oliver too much to ignore his texts? The second variant was more close to the truth.

  “I don’t believe you:)” I typed.

  “Having sex is like playing bridge, you know? If you don't have a good partner, you'd better have a good hand.”

  I laughed even harder. “Nothing ever changes with you.”

  “Indeed… So what are you doing? It’s Saturday. Any crazy plans for the night?”

  “Nope. Don’t have anyone to play with.”

  God, was I flirting with him?

  “Don’t tease me.”

  “Or what?” I hit the ‘send’ button and felt my heart skip a beat. I was definitely out of my mind, and I knew too damn well how conversations like that usually ended.

  “Or I will come and punish you for ignoring me for two whole months.”

  “I wasn’t ignoring you, I had tons of work to do.”

  “And you didn’t have even a few minutes to call me?”

  “I could ask you the same question...”

  “I thought since you didn’t try to contact me, you didn’t miss me :)”

  I think it was the first time in weeks that I let whatever it was that I felt for Oliver swallow me again. Uh, if only he knew…

  “I missed you, Jillian. A lot.”

  Should I tell him? Maybe not now…

  “Will you come to the annual ball?”

  “I’m not sure. I have a very important meeting to attend that day, so even if I come, I will probably be late. But I do wish that I could see you again…”

  “Then make sure your meeting doesn’t last too long :)”

  “Now, I think I’ll try even harder to make it to the ball on time:)”

  “See you there then.”

  “Sweet dreams, Jill.”

  “You too.”

  I put the cell phone aside and smiled to myself. Maybe this time things with Oliver were going to be different? At least this time, we started with texts instead of jumping right into bed with each other; I thought that was probably a good sign.

  Falling asleep that night wasn’t easy. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw nothing but Oliver looking at me with that smile that I knew so well, the one that promised trouble. I tried to force those visions away, and when I thought I would finally be able to fall asleep, the morning sun began to shine through my window.

  I didn’t have anything in particular to do, so I stayed in bed a little longer, reading a book that I had been dying to read for weeks, I hadn’t even had a chance to open it yet.

  Around eleven in the morning, I got a call from Scarlett.

  “I hope you are ready to see the present that I bought you, because I’m sure you will love it!” She said excitedly.

  “Good morning to you too.” I laughed. “And yes, I’m more than ready to see whatever you have for me. Do you and Dom realize that a honeymoon is supposed to be one weekend or maximum four weeks, but definitely not eight? I don’t think I have ever worked so hard or so much in my entire life!”

  “I swear, we will pay you for everything. Now, tell me, how have you been doing since the last time we talked?”

  “Which was less than 48 hours ago, so I don’t think I have any news to share.”

  “And here I thought you had very big news to share with me.”

  Judging by the tone of Scarlett’s voice, I must have missed something very important. “What do you mean?” I thought back to everything that had happened during the last two days, and I was sure there wasn’t anything my ass could be kicked for.

  “What about your talk with Oliver?” She asked in a taunting voice.

  “How the hell did you know about that?” I even put the book aside and sat up on my bed, surprised by how damn fast news can fly around the world.

  “I needed to discuss a few things with him, so I called him a few minutes ago, and when I asked if he was going to come to the annual ball, he said you would kill him if he fails to show.”

  Oh, God… “Well, yeah. He texted me last night. But we didn’t talk much.”

  “And why would he be sexting, I mean texting you?”

  I laughed under my breath. Apparently, even Scarlett didn’t believe that Oliver actually knew how to write normal messages. Well, until last night, I had the same opinion as she did.

  “He just wanted to know how I had been doing.”

  There was a pause on the other end of the line, after which, Scarlett asked, “And he didn’t even ask what you were wearing, not even once while you two were texting each other?”

  “No.”

  “You sure you were talking to my brother-in-law?”

  “Yes, I am. And yes, I was surprised too to see that a conversation with him could be that normal.”

  “Well, something must be seriously wrong w
ith the both of you. Thank God, Dom and I are coming back tomorrow, and hopefully, I’ll be able to figure out what’s going on.”

  “Good luck with that.”

  “Hey, you sure you are okay? I mean you are not fevering in and out of your panties or anything?”

  “I’m totally fine. Even better than that. I think I have finally gotten over my obsession with Oliver.”

  “It doesn’t sound good.”

  “Why?”

  “Because from my own experience, I can tell you for sure that obsessions like that don’t just go away.”

  “And what do you think will happen when we see each other again?”

  “Remember what happened when Dom and I saw each other again after almost six months of living in different cities?”

  “I’m not going to have sex with Oliver on one of the tables at the ball.”

  She laughed. “It wasn’t that naughty. But you get my point, right?”

  “No. I have no idea what you are talking about, and I can assure you that we can talk without having sex.”

  “If you say so.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Is there anything else you wanted to talk to me about? ‘Cause I’m reading a very interesting book, and I now have less than half of Sunday to finish it.”

  “What’s the book about?”

  “Love.”

  “So I thought.” She giggled.

  “What’s wrong with reading a romance novel?”

  “Right after you talked to the main character of your own dirty fantasies? Nothing.” She giggled again.

  “Oh, Lord, you don’t think that I’m thinking about Oliver while reading sex scenes, do you?”

  “I think you know the answer to that question even better than I do. So I’d better hang up now, and let you get back to reading or whatever it is that you are doing over there.”

  “Ugh, I knew that marrying Dominick would never do your mind any good. Can you think about anything other than sex?”

  “I can. Though something tells that you don’t. When was the last time you dated anyone? Two months ago?”

  “So what?”

  “It’s not healthy, Sweetie.”