Free Release by Louise J Page A

can pass by
Dane’s shop on the way.
    I style my hair in a chignon
and put on some black eyeliner, black mascara and a moderate layer of
plum-touched brown lipstick. I team my high-waist, black pencil skirt with
suede peep-toe stilettos and a fitted sheer, sleeveless, burgundy blouse tucked
into the waistband, with a black bra underneath. On the way out, I slip on my
long-sleeve black bolero. All this black has nothing to do with my mood, I just
love this outfit.
    It’s slightly chilly as I
step out, but I’ll be inside mostly and a cab will be my method of transport,
so I’ll survive. As I turn on to Bush Street and feel the eyes of the man I’m
passing burning into me – make that checking out my tits and hips – I realize
something I’m not happy about.
    The way I’m dressed.
    Dane will think I’m some
bitter bitch who’s dressed up to show him what he’s missing. That’s the last
thing on my mind, but since he’s so shallow he won’t realize that what he’s
missing out on goes deeper than the surface. The person beneath the
flesh. Typical.
    Fuck what he thinks, it’s
irrelevant.
    When I get to the shop, I
enter and home in on the sales desk. The place is brightly lit with white,
shiny floors. I pass a large selection of fancy new motorcycles presented like
a work of art. No doubt they were arranged by the hands of a stinking gigolo.
    I keep in mind Dane’s
behavior as a means to stay determined and not be intimidated by the fact that
this is a strange environment and it’s his territory. Thankfully, the person on
the other side of the desk is a female.
    Tone polite, I ask the
blonde, “Is Dane Sinclair here, please?” I wonder if he fucks his pretty staff
members. She’s quite attractive and young.
    Her slender lips curve, but
she looks a little unsure as her blue gaze moves from my face to something
behind me.
    How fucking rude?
    “Brooklyn,” I hear in that voice. It lacks the curiosity it had the first time he said my name, but
there’s definitely a suggestion of surprise present.
    Turning around, I look into
Dane’s intense eyes. For a split second, I almost waver. I actually forgot how
commanding and alluring his presence is, an unwelcome combination.
    “I’d like a word, please,” I
say as graciously as I can. I’ll gladly embarrass the hell out of him, but I’m
not going to embarrass myself by being aggressive.
    His expression doesn’t tell
me anything. Cool, calm and collected. This is probably the norm for him. “Come
on out back,” he says, low enough for only me to hear.
    “No.” I’m not going to some
back room with a man I barely know, especially one I can’t gauge. “I’d rather
go outside.” I don’t wait for his reply; I walk around him and head for the
door. On the street is ideal, it’s away from watching eyes and listening ears,
but on even territory and in a public place.
    On the pavement, I turn as
Dane approaches me with his hands buried in the pockets of his black cargo
trousers. They have a similar fit to his denims, only they’re slightly looser.
The long-sleeved black cotton top bares the company logo over his right pec and
snugly holds the physique I plan on erasing from my mind immediately after I
say what I’ve come to say.
    When he stands a few feet
away from me, I move back a couple of steps to give myself some space. He
frowns at my actions and, of course, he’ll assume I’m being standoffish .
    “I won’t keep you long.
Since you wanted me to form my own opinion of you, I just want you to know I’ve
decided you’re an arsehole. I’m not bothered that you don’t want to see me
again, but I do care that you didn’t have the decency to be honest with me – so
much for the no bullshit or games.” I hold his gaze, though it’s far from easy.
    Those eyes and everything
else about him overwhelms me.
    “It wasn’t like that.”
    “It doesn’t matter what it
was like, I’m not here to gain further understanding. I only wanted to tell