Arsen: a broken love story - Asher Mia. Страница 13

After lunch, I drop Amy off at the office and drive to SoHo to pick up Charles Parker. He’s one of the most exclusive and expensive interior designers in the world. His clientele includes many people with famous last names, Hollywood A-listers, and members of the European Jet-Set. Charles has also been featured in every magazine geared for high-end homeowners and the very, very wealthy.

Curious as to what kind of man he really is, I’m excited to finally meet him in person and take him to the future Radcliff residence. Based on the estimates he gave me for his services, I hope he’s amazing because I almost fell out of my chair when the numbers came out of his assistant’s mouth.

“Yes, how may I help you today?” A very chic receptionist asks upon seeing me approach her desk.

“Hi. My name is Cathy Stanwood. I believe Mr. Parker is expecting me,” I tell the drop-dead gorgeous brunette girl with the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen. She looks to be no older than twenty.

“Mrs. Stanwood. What a pleasure to finally meet you. I’m Natalie, we’ve spoken on the phone before.” I notice that Sexy Natalie speaks with a slight Russian accent that only makes her more attractive in my opinion.

I smile. “Hi, Natalie. It’s great to finally meet you.”

Her red lips smile back. “Yes. Would you like to have a seat for a moment while I let him know that you are here? Charles has been waiting for you.”

“Of course.” I make my way to sit on a posh white leather couch that reminds me of one I saw not too long ago in Architectural Digest. As my hands caress the smooth texture of the leather, my eyes spot a newspaper on the coffee table in front of me. I open it and go straight to Page six, the gossip column.

I feel like the wind has been knocked out of my lungs. I stare at the headline of the article and the profligate beauty of the man whose face is plastered on the front of the page. A defiant Arsen is looking directly at the camera as a sexy smirk plays around the corners of his lips.

He’s so beautiful.

The picture shows Arsen, drunk and exiting an exclusive nightclub with a famous model wrapped around each arm, and a third one on his back, piggyback riding him. He looks like a kid in a candy store. The hand of one of the girls is inside his pants, wrapped around his huge erection no doubt, and a thong is wrapped around his neck. I know how his night ended. Disgusted by his behavior, and with myself for not being able to look away, I read the banner of the article.

Arsen=Arson? Manhattan’s new favorite bad boy.

That’s an understatement.

Curiosity gets the best of me, so I read the article about him. According to the columnist, the photographers asked Arsen his secret to staying in such good shape.

“I fuck a lot.”

When they asked him if it was true he banged the newest Hollywood “it” girl, he answered, “No comment. I’m a gentleman. I don’t fuck and tell…unless they want me to.”

“Handsome devil, isn’t he?”

Lifting my eyes, I see a very attractive man in his mid-forties smiling at me. I blush because I’ve been caught reading trash about his clients, and my boss’ son. I close the newspaper and place it on the table as quickly as possible and stand up to extend my hand.

“Hi, Mr. Parker. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. I’m Cathy Stanwood, your chauffeur for the day.”

He takes my hand and shakes it. “Hi, Cathy. What a lovely surprise. Let’s just say that I’ve never been so glad to be driven around as I am today.”

“Thank you for the compliment, Mr. Parker.”

“You’re as beautiful as your voice is over the phone. And please, call me Charles.” We’ve stopped shaking hands, but he hasn’t let go of mine yet. “I love when pretty women like you call me by my name.”

I can’t help smiling into his grey eyes as he flirts with me. “Sure.” Taking in his appearance, I note that he’s wearing dark denim fitted jeans with a light blue button down shirt and a cream-colored sports jacket. His longish brown hair is parted to the side, lending his handsome face a very preppy and boyish look.

“You flatter me, but I feel obligated to let you know that I’m not that good of a driver. Anyway, should we go? Driving to Westchester is quite a hike at this time of the day.”

“Of course. Please lead the way.” He moves to the side to let me pass and walk in front of him.

“Well, what a gentleman,” I tease as I grab my bag and move past him.

“Always, Darling. Always,” he teases back.

Somehow he beats me to the door, opening it for me. “After you.”

Laughing, the two of us get in my car. I turn to look at him as I start the engine. “About before…the newspaper isn’t mine. It was just sitting there and…”

Charles shrugs as his gray eyes land on mine. “I was just teasing you. I’ve known that kid for a very long time. I’m what you could call a longtime family friend. Arsen definitely likes to have his fun in his own wild ways, but don’t believe everything you read. They make a living on selling lies. But there is no denying he’s guilty of at least half of those stories. If I have ever met a kid who knows how to use his pretty face and money, it’s got to be him. He never hurts the women, though. He’s always very forward and up front with what he’s looking for and what he expects before getting involved with someone.”

As I fight the Manhattan traffic, I say, “Yes, there is no denying he knows how to have fun and that women love him.”

“Yes, the kid is so good looking that women throw themselves at him. I still remember Victoria complaining back when he was a boy how kids would tease him saying that he looked like a girl because he was so pretty.”

“Well, he definitely doesn’t look like a girl anymore. I don’t think people tease him either,” I say, smirking.

“No. I don’t think so.” We both laugh at the joke.

“I’m curious though…is his life always reported and scrutinized like that by gossip columnists? I can’t imagine living under the microscope like that,” I ask.

“He can go quite unnoticed by them when he’s out and about and they leave him alone for the most part. It’s only when he dates someone famous that he can’t escape the rumors or paparazzi.”

Dropping the subject of Arsen, we continue the car ride to the suburbs talking about everything else that strangers who like each other talk about upon meeting.

As we approach the impressive Radcliff residence, I decide that Charles Parker is a great catch. He is likeable, wealthy, and would be perfect for Amy. They both ooze sex from the pores of their perfect skin and would probably screw like bunnies. My mind goes back to Arsen, and for a brief second I wonder if I will ever see him again.

I want to.

Yes, even after what happened, or didn’t happen, between us.

After the elderly housekeeper lets us in, Charles and I make our way to the kitchen. Charles has been to the house with Victoria plenty of times before, so he knows his way around the massive mansion just fine. When we walk into the kitchen, I’m surprised by how extensive the area is. Everything is made out of maple wood and black marble. It boggles my mind that Victoria would like to change the decor of the kitchen because the room is already breathtaking.

I follow Charles to the expansive black marble top island. Upon reaching him, I notice he has all sorts of designs, fabrics, and floor plans spread across the top. Charles studies the organized mess in front of him as if he’s solving an algebra problem.