Hello Internet! Please welcome Alexa Silver for Flash Fiction Friday!
In her untitled piece, we meet Belinda. A woman on a business trip that accidentally finds herself with a famous actress’s luggage, and a lot more than she bargained for when she gets one on one with a sultry celebrity.
by Alexa Silver
Belinda Matthews sighed and kicked off her shoes, sinking her bare toes into the plush carpet just inside her front door. The trip had been miserable—one problem after another, including Jones having made a pass at the CEO’s intern. Who also happened to be the CEO’s daughter. It had taken lot of work for Belinda to smooth that over.
The contract was done, the ink was dry, and Belinda wanted to celebrate. Tomorrow—tonight was just too much. Between the long workday and delayed flight, she was exhausted. She’d started work at six am, Eastern, and it was now eleven pm, Pacific. All she needed now was her favorite nightshirt and her bed.
Belinda picked up her heels, wincing as she walked. She hadn’t had the time to change clothes before boarding her flight and her bag had been checked, so even though she missed her connection in Denver, she’d been stuck with her business clothes. Unless she’d wanted to buy some sweats, and sneakers. and she wasn’t about to fly in those.
Belinda considered dragging her bright blue hardtop suitcase into the bedroom, but she was too wiped. Instead, she sat on the floor of her living room and unzipped it.
And found it wasn’t her suitcase at all.
Beautiful tops hung from one end, on a small rail. She didn’t need to touch them to know the fabrics were lush. The top zippered pocket of the suitcase contained what she hoped was costume jewelry, and gorgeous lingerie in a bag. Feeling as if she was intruding on someone’s life, Belinda carefully moved the clothes around, a gorgeous perfume surrounding her. Cherries, oranges, vanilla, subtle and anchored with something spicy and sexy. It just smelled expensive.
Belinda tried to ignore the tightening of her body, digging around carefully until she found a card. C. Z., it read, and a number. Belinda only hesitated a moment, thankful she’d left her cellphone in the pocket of her suitcoat. She could not have faced digging through her purse for it. She dialed the number and sat back, wiggling her aching feet, waiting, her stomach a little unsettled by the fact that someone else was looking through her things. God, what if they found the…
Belinda swallowed hard and waited as the phone rang once, twice…
“Hello?” The beautiful contralto carried over the phone and Belinda froze. She knew that voice—everyone knew that voice!
Carpathia Zane. Singer/actress extraordinaire. Mega famous, beautiful, the banner by which every woman was measured. Belinda’s massive crush.
“Hi, um…I’m Belinda. I think you have my bag?” She had to try to act cool and not react. She couldn’t seem as if she knew she was talking to a freaking superstar.
“Oh yes. Belinda Matthews, 317—”
“Yes, that’s me!” She could not let Carpathia say any more than that or she might spontaneously combust.
“My assistant is unreachable, Belinda. I’ll simply have to come over myself and gather my belongings, and return yours as well. I don’t suppose you have a doorman? Keyed entry?”
“Good,” Carpathia purred. How could she purr an entire word, Belinda wondered. But her body knew—oh, how it knew!
“I’ll be over soon, dear. Wait for me.”
Belinda tried hard to hide her whimper, but it wasn’t easy. She closed her eyes, struggling for something to say, something witty to say. But there was nothing; she was overwhelmed, exhausted, and surprised to be talking with such a celebrity. Carpathia sounded cool and in control, as if she didn’t mind that a stranger had been through her personal items. Belinda, on the other hand, hoped Belinda had only gone as far as the top pocket, where her name was displayed.
“Just relax, Belinda. Pleasure…not business. Have a drink and let your hair down. If you’re the one I saw at baggage claim while Harrold was gathering my things, including your suitcase, you’re that gorgeous redhead with the too-tight bun. Take it down, honey. Relax. You’ll be among friends.” Carpathia’s voice dropped to a sexy whisper. “Very very good friends, I hope. If you’re interested…”
Those last three words hung in the air, and Belinda scrambled for something to say, aware that she was breathing way too fast and way too loudly. And she may have emitted a strangled sound. What did someone say to a superstar, who apparently wanted to be good friends—and Belinda didn’t think Carpathia meant coffee buddies.
“I thought you were interested,” Carpathia finished, and Belinda sensed a smile accompanied her words. “Then get very comfortable, dear. I may be staying the night.” She paused. “I have a dark green nightgown in my suitcase that would be beautiful against your skin. New, the tags on it. Put it on for me. I know it will fit you just fine.”
The call ended then and Belinda pulled the phone away from her ear in disbelief.
Carpathia Zane was coming over, and she might be spending the night. How in heaven’s name had that happened?