“You mean Venice, Italy? No, I have not, but I’ve always wanted to - ”

“Yes, Venice Italy. And yet another reason you should work for me. This event is a huge masquerade ball during carnival season in the city. We already have a palazzo space overlooking a canal and a caterer in place. However, the theme and décor is not set, nor activities, or other things that would make the elite want to come. That’s where you would come in.”

It all sounded so grand, like, a dream. A dream job of being able to mix event coordinating and travel to exotic places. With him.

“Here are two of my cards. One for the gallery director for the artwork, and the other is for you to hold on to. In case you change your mind.”

Then, just as smoothly as he had appeared, he was gone.

I stood in the empty gallery alone with a new exciting path beckoning. Urging me to leave the safety of a stable environment and embark on a new and unpredictable journey alongside a man I had been dreaming about.

A man whose name I did not even know.

I looked down at the card. It simply read “Clay Roth” with a phone number and an email address. That was it.

It was a typically mysterious business card for a very mysterious man.

3

Exactly two days later I found myself calling the number.

I felt guilty for wanting to leave my new job for one that was bound to be unpredictable, but the prospect of visiting Venice was too good to pass up.

How many people get to design and coordinate a masquerade ball in Venice, Italy? I had to do it.

Not to mention that I couldn’t stop thinking about Clay Roth.

I worked myself into a bundle of nerves when I picked up the phone to call him. I knew hearing his voice would have an instant aphrodisiac effect on me.

Though in the end I didn’t even have to worry, because he didn’t answer the phone. I left a message with a woman, his secretary I assumed or assistant. After a day or so I was starting to doubt that his offer was genuine.

Then I finally got a return call. The woman gave me a Long Island address and an appointment with Clay for the following day.

I sighed in relief after I hung up the phone. However this was short lived when I realized I needed to now find the perfect outfit to wear. I spent the rest of the night trying on every outfit in my closet.

The next day I headed out to Long Island. I was surprised that Clay was located so far outside the city. I assumed he would have owned some swanky penthouse overlooking the park.

The cab driver pulled up to the address the woman had given me and I immediately thought the driver had it wrong when he stopped in front of a set of massive gates.

I hit the intercom and nervously told the person that answered that I had an appointment with Mr Roth. The gates opened immediately so I guess I did have the right place.

The cab pulled in and my mouth dropped at the sight before me. A large historic and Gatsbyesque house stood on the property. My first thought was that this must be the office for whatever foundation or philanthropic organization Mr. Roth worked for.

It must be because no one could afford to live in a palatial house like this. I paid the cab and walked to the massive front doors, then pulled on the old retro doorbell cord hanging to the side of the doorframe.

Was this real?

A maid answered the door and let me into the atrium. She didn’t speak and quickly walked off. I was alone in a vast hall. I looked around and knew that it was indeed a living space and not an office of any sort.

The butterflies in my stomach tripled as I realized that Clay Roth must be very wealthy indeed, a billionaire. I began to fidget again. It was unusual that I wasn’t shown to some sort of sitting room to wait.

Instead I just stood there. The atrium had a white marble floor that led to a grand staircase in the back. The wood banisters were elegantly carved and there was an art deco theme throughout.

I gazed up the staircase as it led to a gallery that overlooked the atrium. There he was, standing there staring down at me.

I felt small as he looked at me from his place up high. Like I was a courtier visiting a king in his castle.

“Eva, I’m glad you came,” Clay said as he descended the stairs.

“Thank you for having me,” I replied. I tried to keep my eyes on his face instead of letting them go up and down his long lean body. I had to remember I was here for business.

If I kept repeating that in my mind than I hoped I would believe it.

He was the perfect specimen of a human being. He walked towards me and I would have felt nervous if I had any sense of controlling my own mind.

My blood felt like it was boiling in my veins as I became hot, flushed, and incredibly turned on by his mere presence. I wanted nothing more than to surrender myself to him.

This was dangerous.

4

I followed him through the large house, entering and exiting one cavernous room after another.

We exited through the back of the house and out onto a large portico. There was a table set with an elegant lunch.

I tried to keep my mouth closed, as I wanted to gape at the vast gardens and enormous fountain that was so beautifully landscaped.

We sat at the table and I tried not to stumble over my words. Clay started to tell me about the fundraiser, but I was having a hard time focusing. None of this made sense to me.

Was he one of those billionaire philanthropists?

I quickly learned that he’d created a charity dedicated to donating money to help fix the problems of the earth.

It ranged from helping animals in the Arctic to cleaning up oil spills in the ocean. Basically anything that concerned the environment, his charity tried to help. It was called, “The Green Cause.”

All tickets to attend the masquerade ball, which ranged in the thousands of dollars would go toward the charity. It all sounded very grand.

However, I couldn’t gauge the other vibes Clay was sending me. The awkward pauses, and the way he looked at me made me feel like I was here for something else entirely.

“Your gardens are just lovely,” I said after the business side of things came to an end.

Clay smiled with a knowing grin. “Would you like to take a walk through them?”

“Sure, that would be nice.”

He stood up and put his hand out. I placed mine in his and he helped me to my feet. His skin touching mine sent fire through me. It went from my hand, up my arm, and into my body and spirit. I had to remind myself to breathe.

We walked the steps down the portico and onto the path that lead deep into the gardens.

We didn’t talk. I felt so incredibly awkward and nervous.

The garden was dense and lush and I was astonished by the abundance of life. I was deep in this thought and the beautiful surroundings when suddenly Clay grabbed my arm and pulled me to him.

“I’ve wanted to do this since that first night we met, when I pretended I wanted that number.”

I was caught off guard and stumbled my way into his chest. He looked down at me and I breathed in his scent. It was intoxicating. Within seconds his lips were on mine. My breath caught in my throat.

Realising that he had indeed been coming onto that first night, I felt myself becoming wet with just the proximity of his body.

My lips parted and his tongue gently brushed against mine. I moaned and he pressed firmer against my mouth. He pushed more until I was going backwards with his arm around my waist gently guiding me.