Thomas glared at the woman. It was clear to him that she was attempting to impress him. “Evian, chilled.” After paying, he took the bottle and sat down at the table that Brooke had just vacated.
What are you thinking, Dad? A legal separation? Just dump the slut and return to Mom. He shook his head. His father must have something planned. Thomas grinned. Of course, letting Brooke think there was a possibility of saving her marriage,
it would be all the funnier to see her beg for another chance. He took a sip of the water. That broad from the gallery - Esme? - was easy on the eyes. Of course, that stupid short haircut would have to go. He preferred women with long hair. He finished the last of the bottled water and jumped up.
Brooke and that woman had talked about spending more of the Forrester money (his inheritance) on some shelter for losers. He had to let Dad know and put a stop to that. “What are you doing here, Steffie?” Whip sighed in exasperation.
Not only would he not get the nap he was looking forward to, he had to deal with ‘hot-to-trot’ Steffie. “I am living with your mother, you know. I really understand why you don’t respect Brooke or Hope. I don’t approve, but I understand. But I would think that you would have some regard for your mother’s feelings.”
Steffie kept her arms wrapped tightly around his waist and kissed his naked shoulder. “Let’s not talk about Brooke and Hope. I don’t want to hurt you, Whip.” She began to kiss his neck. “In fact, that’s the last thing I want.
But you have to know that my mother spent last night with my father in her bed. They made love all night long. I can make you forget all about her, Whip. Give me a chance.” She moved her hand down from his waist and slipped it inside his boxers.
Whip listened sadly. He knew in his heart that Steffie was telling the truth. And he was grateful that he was not in love with Taylor. Yes, he had begun to develop feelings for her. But... “Steffie, stop that.” In his reverie, he had ignored her latest actions and his body had begun to respond to her ministrations in spite of himself. He jerked away and jumped off the bed. “Get dressed and go home!”
She giggled and unfastened the strapless lacy bra, letting it fall to the floor. Standing in front of him, Steffie cupped her hands under her breasts and spoke breathily: “You already want me, Whip. Look! We would be so good together.
I can make you forget my mother and Brooke and every other woman you’ve ever wanted.” She moved closer to him and put her arms around his neck, pressing her breasts to his naked chest, then whispered: “You know you want this.”
Whip pushed her roughly away. “What I wanted was a quiet nap before my evening meetings with buyers. Since you messed that up, I am going to take a shower. When I come out of the bath, I want you gone.
Go back to LA, go see a movie, go pick up a ‘john’ on the street for all I care! But get out!” He headed toward the suite’s bathroom, then glanced at her. “If you are still here when I come out, I will call hotel security and instruct them to have you removed and to alert the police. Understand?” Without waiting for an answer, Whip slammed the bathroom door behind him. For good measure, he set the lock.
Steffie was stunned. She knew he wouldn’t instantly love her, but to reject her this way! Walking to the closet, she pulled out her suitcase and decided on the True Religion jeans and her Haute Hippie French Tee. Suddenly, she smiled to herself. Slipping off the lacy thong, she placed it and her previously discarded bra on Whip’s pillow. She dressed quickly and applied fresh lipgloss. Walking to the mirror over the bureau, she left her deep red lip print on it. Then, she picked up her suitcase and left the suite.
As she rode down in the elevator, she reassured herself. Whip was an honorable man. He would not take her to bed and make love with her until he had ended things with her mother. Oh, yes, he wanted her as desperately as she wanted him. She could be patient. For now, she would grab an early dinner in the hotel’s dining room and call Grandma and Tom to see what was happening on their end.
“Hey, Tom. It’s me. I just talked to Grandma.” Steffie took a bite of her prime rib. “It sounds like things are going great out there. I don’t know where Brooke is, but Dad is back at Mom’s again.”
“Hi Steffie. I’ve been keeping an eye on the slut at this Yeats Gallery. She’s been throwing herself at Popeye and some two-bit artist.” Thomas sneered. “But while I was observing, Dad had her served with papers for a legal separation.”
“Not a divorce! What is he thinking?” Steffie was upset.
“No, Steff, think about it. The bitch is going to think she still has a chance. We’ll get to see some heavy duty begging and then Divorce!” Thomas chuckled. “How’d it go with Whip?”
“Maybe you’re right. Grandma has told me about watching Brooke on her hands and knees before begging Dad to forgive her and stay with her. It might be fun.” She paused and took a sip of her wine. “Whip ordered me out of his hotel room. But, Tom, he wanted me. I could tell. He’s a good person. Once he realizes he doesn’t stand a real chance with Mom and moves out, he will be all over me. I need to go now. Another call is coming in - I think it’s Grandma. I’ll see you when I get back to LA.”
