Page 8 of Corporate Escapades

“Whatever. Can we please move on?” The subject flared her anger, and Breanna was the last person she wanted to be mad at. Of all the people in her life, Breanna was the only person who could say she understood how Paris was feeling. She, too, had lost a sibling that night. “How long are you here?”

“I leave tomorrow night.” Breanna looked apologetic. Julliard waited for no one.

“That’s not even two days,” said Paris. “Why can’t you stay longer?”

“You know the answer to that, but I promise I’ll try to come back more often.”

Paris reached out and poked at Breanna’s nose ring. “That’s new, huh? It looks good on you.” Paris thought Brody would have loved the nose ring. After all, he had pierced both of his ears.

“I never thought I’d sport a nose ring, but I really love the look. The only downside is that I can’t wear it to work. Oh,” she said as she turned away briefly, “don’t look now, but there’s my cousin.”

“Yeah, look who he’s with,” said Paris.

“My goodness. Is that Devon Heathrow’s wife?” Breanna looked surprised. Vic had a way of charming all types of women. She should have known marital status or fame wouldn’t be an issue. Vic chased every pretty thing that came through the door, no matter if they were wearing a danger sign. If he couldn’t have them, he appeared to want them even more.

“Yeah, Devon’s been playing in the World Series of Poker Tournament all day at the MGM Grand in Las Vegas. He sent her here because he didn’t want any distractions. I wonder if he knows what she does when they’re apart?”

“I doubt it,” said Breanna. “He doesn’t seem the type to put up with such nonsense.”

Paris considered Meagan. She wore Louis Vuitton from head to toe. She even carried a black Louis Vuitton clutch, but the most impressive part of her outfit had to be her shoes. They were exquisite. Beautiful brown Louis Vuitton Star Trail ankle boots, and Paris bet they were just her size.

“We should go over there,” said Breanna as she removed a small bottle of perfume from her black and red Prada and spritzed herself. The purse matched her dress perfectly.

“I don’t mind moving closer, but I don’t care to socialize with Vic,” replied Paris.

Breanna furrowed her eyebrows and stared back at her friend for a moment. “Don’t you two have to speak regularly? You work together still, correct?”

“He’s a jerk. Everyone at work’s afraid of him because of his temper. I avoid him as much as possible.”

“That’s not the Vic I know,” she said as she looked over at him and Megan. “He always acted considerate of his coworkers. He’s the guy most people wanted to work for because he loved handing out promotions and bonuses.

“People change,” said Paris. “It’s different for you. You’re his family. He treats you like his sister. I’m not the only person with a different attitude since the accident.”

Breanna winced at Paris’s statement. “I think we’re all one enormous family. Don’t you agree?”

“I don’t have a family anymore.”

Breanna shook her head. “That’s cold, Paris. I’ve always looked at you like a sister. We grew up together and have a history. We did all the things sisters do.”

“We aren’t children anymore. We’re adults. Why don’t you go talk to Vic? I need another Prosecco,” she said as she turned away and left Breanna gawking after her. Retrieving a glass from another passing tray, she decided to take a seat near the orchestra where she could listen to the music and keep an eye on Vic, Breanna, and the naughty Mrs. Heathrow.

She watched as Vic and Breanna chatted for nearly an hour. Then Mya appeared. Grabbing Breanna by the arm, she guided her away. Most likely to schmooze it up with some up-and-coming actors. Paris continued to watch Vic and Meagan. They seemed awfully close. She watched as he brushed what must have been stray strands of blonde hair, behind her ear. She placed a hand on his wrist. Leaning in, she whispered something in his ear and lightly bit his earlobe as she pulled away. Vic reached down and cupped her bottom while she reached back and grabbed his free hand to lead him out of the tent.

Paris waited until Vic and Meagan exited, and then, scooting off her chair, followed safely behind them. She watched as they practically skipped out of the festival. Paris thought perhaps they were headed for one of the gardens, but no, Vic was leading her back to his place.Predictable,she thought. Everything with Vic led to sex.

Paris continued to follow. She knew this location well. He was in the condo at the opposite end of the hall from her. She hadn’tbeen inside his place in years. As she continued on, an idea came to her.

She waited for the elevator door to close behind Meagan before she got into the second car. Pressing twelve, she followed them up. They were halfway down the hall when she exited. She watched from a distance as Meagan jumped up and wrapped her legs around Vic, devouring his mouth with her ferocious pink lips. They slammed into the wall outside the condo, knocking a print askew. Meagan squealed with excitement. Paris worried they might not make it inside before stripping naked. Thankfully, he only paused for a moment before refocusing his attention on opening the door and carrying her out of sight.

After the door slammed shut behind them, Paris slunk further down the hall until she stood directly in front of Vic’s door. She couldn’t hear anything. Slowly, she reached out and turned the handle. It was unlocked. Pushing the door open a crack, she paused to listen. The noises she heard were coming from the bedroom. Pushing her way inside, she quietly closed the door behind her. She was shocked to see that his condo had been completely updated. She didn’t recall any furniture being hauled in or out. How had she missed it?

Wandering around, she looked at the art and tested out the furniture. He appeared to have decent taste. She wondered if Mya had helped him decorate. The colors were shades of blue, which matched his Van Gogh replicas. He had a cushy coffee black couch with some beautiful grey and brown distressed wooden coffee tables. His area rug was in colors that mimickedStarry Night. The place felt clean and comfortable. Not the bachelor pad she recalled from earlier years.

Creeping toward the hall, she could see light emitting from the bedroom. She scanned the room, but didn’t see Meagan’s boots anywhere. Paris felt disappointed. She must have made it into the bedroom, still wearing them. She decided then and therethat she would go after them. She marched down the hall past a pedestal holding a decorative vase until she stood in front of the bedroom door. Getting down on her hands and knees, she gently nudged the door open enough to see inside. Sure enough, Meagan had removed the shoes and tossed them to the floor at the foot of the bed. She cringed at the thought of going into the room, but Meagan’s back was to her, and they were making so much noise she doubted they’d notice.

Inching the door open halfway, she crept toward the bed until she was close enough to snag her prize. Reaching out, she grabbed them by the laces and maneuvered her way backward. Her heart pounded in her chest as she closed the door and continued to back away from the room. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d felt so alive. In her excitement, she completely forgot about the pedestal. Knocking into it, the vase tipped and crashed to the tile floor, breaking into several large pieces.

“What was that?” she heard Meagan chirp.

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