Small Town Girl Big City Dreams

Ivy Ryan could tell by the look on Alexa Cameron’s face she wasn’t getting the job. She had just recently moved to Chicago from Snow’s Corner, Missouri. Hoping that her dream of working for Style magazine would come true. But now it looked like it was about to come crashing down.

She nervously sat with her hands folded in her lap waiting for the inevitable. After she had walked in and saw the other girls waiting to be interviewed, she knew her chances were slim. They all were wearing designer business attire. Ivy was wearing her pink floral dress that she got at Walmart. She knew walking in that she didn’t have the most impressive resume. The only job she ever had was a bartender at the Ramblin’ Rose. That was back in Snow’s Corner.

She was hoping that when Mrs. Cameron asked her questions, she could prove to her there was more to her than just her resume. So far all she had done was alternate between glancing at her resume and giving her disapproving looks. Ivy didn’t know how long they sat there in silence. The awkward silence was almost becoming suffocating.

Finally, Mrs. Cameron folded her hands and placed them on top of her desk. Here it comes. Ivy thought doing her best to brace herself for the news. “I’m sorry, Ms. Ryan,” she began, her uncaring eyes fixed on hers. “I don’t think you are right for this job,” her voice void of emotion.

“Thank you,” Ivy said, surprised her voice sounded calm, she stood up and turned to leave.

When she stepped out in the room where the others who were still waiting, she could feel their eyes on her. Holding her head up and adjusting her denim jacket. There was no way she was going to give them the satisfaction of seeing her cry. Not yet. Not yet. She kept telling herself on her way to the elevators. She was not going to cry here even though the tears where threatening to fall.

Ivy was grateful the elevator was empty when she stepped on, leaning against the wall. Sliding down to the floor the tears that she was trying to hold back fell like rain. She pulled her knees up burying her face in the top of them, letting the reality of her dream fade away. From the first time she saw an issue of the online magazine. She had dreamt of working there and now it was gone.

“What am I going to do now?” she cried, trying to pull herself together. Before she wasn’t alone anymore.

It had taken every penny she made working at the Ramblin’ Rose to move to Chicago. Now she had no job, no money. Ivy leaned her head back, closing her eyes and asked out loud. “Why does my life always suck?”

“I couldn’t tell you,” she heard a sexy, velvety voice say.

When she opened her eyes staring down at her were smoldering dark brown eyes. “I’m sorry,” Ivy said, scrambling to her feet. “No one… I was just… Oh, this day can’t get any worse,” she said, burying her face. Now this sexy man thought she was insane.

Vincent Barron watched the raven-haired beauty bury her face in her hands. He swore she had been crying when he stepped onto the elevator. He was on his way up to his law office Barron Law Firm. “Is everything all, right?” he asked, lifting her chin so she was looking at him.

He felt his breath catch in the back of his throat when he saw her tear-stained face. Her chestnut eyes that were almost the color of mahogany were filled with tears. Without even thinking he reached up and wiped away the tears with the back of his knuckles. The simple gesture was making his dick press against his zipper. He quickly jerked his hand away as if it had been burned.

Ivy’s cheek felt like it was on fire from the sexy man’s gentle caress. The look on his face made her wonder if he felt it too. She knew by the way he was dressed that he was someone important. The dark navy-blue pinstriped suit made him looked dignified. His dark brown hair that was almost the color of black was slicked back. They just sat there staring at each other in awkward silence, wondering what had just transpired.

“I’m Vincent Barron,” he finally said, breaking the silence that was suffocating the confined space. Not understanding why, he felt compelled to introduce himself. She was nothing like the women he would normally be interested in. But for some reason this woman in the simple pink cotton dress, was turning his insides out. His balls literally felt like they were going to explode.

“I…I…Ivy Ryan,” she managed to stammer out. She was pretty sure he thought she was an idiot. She hadn’t said normal sentence since he stepped onto the elevator.

“Nice to meet you, Ivy,” Vincent said, adjusting his briefcase in front of his dick. The mere presence of this woman was making it beg to be released from its twill prison. He had a meeting with a client in a few minutes and really needed to get it in check.

Before Ivy could speak the elevator doors open and the sexy man named Vincent Barron, quickly stepped off the elevator. She wondered what was wrong with him. He had a weird look on his face when he stepped off. Oh, well it doesn’t matter. I’ll never see him again anyway. I need to find a job.

Ivy was sitting on her sofa with her laptop. She was looking for jobs online. So, she could stay in the apartment that she stupidly rented without having a job. She wasn’t stupid for renting it, she was stupid for not having a back-up job. Now that working at Style was no longer a possibility, she needed to find a job.

All she ever wanted to do was work at Style. That was her dream to move to work there and move to Chicago. She got a job at the Ramblin’ Rose the bar on the outskirts of town right out of high school. She lived in that trailer park so she could save every penny to eventually move here.

She smiled as she thought back to the day when she saw on Style’s Facebook page that Alexa Cameron was looking for a new assistant. Alexa was the stylist for the magazine and Ivy just knew she had found her chance to finally leave Snow’s Corner. Soon, as she saw the post she began looking for apartments on Apartments.com.

When she saw this place, she knew she had found her new home. She looked around her tiny one-bedroom apartment. It wasn’t much but at least it was hers for the next month anyway. And it was in Chicago and not back in Snow’s Corner.

Ivy groaned thinking of Snow’s Corner. It was located in rural Southeast Missouri, not far from the Mississippi River. The majority of the people who lived in the surrounding area where farmers. There wasn’t much to the town itself. There wasn’t a downtown or even just a Main Street. It was just a main highway that went through the middle of town. The post office was located on that road, as well as Miss. Millie’s Café, old man Jenkins’ General Store. Bubba’s Filling Station and Garage and the volunteer fire department which also served as the community center. That was Snow’s Corner in a nutshell. Nothing see nothing do.

No, Ivy had no intention of ever returning back there. Her life was here now, she didn’t know how at this point. But she was determined to make a life for herself here.

The sounds of the street down below drew her to open window. She climbed out onto the fire escape listening to the people down walking in and out of the cafes. The street that her building was on was a mixture of apartments and businesses.

She stood there with her eyes close letting the sounds engulf her entire being. She had no idea what she was going to for money. In a month she will probably homeless. But for the first time in her life Ivy was home.

Vincent Barron was on his knees. Elle the woman he had an off and on sexual relationship with was on all fours. She had her ass in the air while he fucked her from behind. He had no intention of calling her tonight. She was a spoiled rich girl who never worked a day in her life. But his dick needed to fuck somebody ever since this morning on the elevator.

All damn day he had to adjust himself. The raven-haired Ivy Ryan taunted him all day. He still didn’t understand why he was compelled to introduce himself. He barely even touched her, and he thought his balls were going to explode. Right now, with his dick buried in Elle’s ass all he saw was her face.

He had to admit that he wished it was Ivy’s pink, pillowy lips he was blowing a load in and not Elle’s uptight ass. “Fuck,” he growled, as the image of Ivy down on her knees, those damn lips sucking his dick until her mouth was dripping with his juices. “Damn!” he cursed, pumping harder into Elle’s ass.

After he had finished filling her ass he quickly pulled out and jumped off the bed. “Vincent,” Elle whined, as he headed for the bathroom. Why the hell did I call her? I’d been better off with a hooker.

“Shower. Alone,” he said, when he heard her climbing off the bed. “You better be gone when I get out,” he warned, not even bothering to turn around.

The last thing he heard before he shut the door was Elle screeching. “I hate you!”

Vincent stood under the shower letting the water wash off Elle. He was still convinced that he was better off hiring a hooker. But at that moment he was desperate his balls were fire when he called Elle. He knew at that moment the old saying that men only think with their dick was true.

He had been with plenty of women but none of them made him feel what Ivy was making him feel. For those few seconds that he was near her it felt like his entire being was on fire. And she was the only thing that could extinguish it.

He could kick his self for running away like a chicken. But he had to get out of there before he did something that he shouldn’t have done. Maybe, if had stayed he could have found out a little more about her. All he knew was her name and something happened in the building to make her cry.

Vincent turned off the water grabbing a towel as he stepped out and wrapped it around himself. I need a fucking drink. He thought making his way to his living room, stopping to admire the view of downtown Chicago. His penthouse was located in an historic building in the Gold Coast neighborhood.

He poured himself a drink moving to plop down on one of the custom plush beige sofas. Taking a sip of the amber liquid propping his feet up on the leather ottoman. He laid his head back against the cushion trying to think of a way to find out more about Ivy. He thought about calling his detective, but he needed more information than her name. That was all he had at the moment.

The more he thought about the more he had the feeling that she wasn’t from Chicago. He propped his hand behind his head remembering the way she was dressed. The simple pink cotton floral dress told him she was definitely not from the city. He also remembered her saying that this day couldn’t get any worse.

Maybe, she didn’t get a job she wanted.

There were lots of other offices in the building where is law firm was located. He closed his eyes thinking of her tear-stained face and how he wiped them away. When the back of his knuckles brushed across her soft skin, he felt a heat he never felt before. And it stopped at his dick making it beg to be release.

“Shit,” he cursed, feeling the familiar sensation in his balls that only Ivy could make them feel.

As, he tried to control the ache in balls doing his best to keep his semi-erect dick in check. He realized something. If Ivy really wasn’t from the city as he suspected he was going to have to approach her differently. He couldn’t go in with both barrels blazing like he would a city woman.

He was beginning to wonder if maybe that was the allure to her. She did have this air of innocence about her. Not that he thought she was a virgin, he couldn’t explain it. There was just something that drew him to her. However, he was intrigued of the idea of her being a virgin. To be the first man to bury himself deep inside her sweet pussy.

“Damn,” he cursed, when he looked down and his dick was saluting him. “Well, thanks to you,” he said to his dick. “I guess I’m taking another shower A cold one,” he mumbled getting off the couch heading back to his bedroom,

After the third cold shower finally settled in his dick. He decided to go to the Crimson Tide, the nightclub he owned. There was plenty of distraction there to keep his mind off Ivy.

Ivy knew she must be heaven when she walked into the penthouse in the Gold Coast neighborhood. She found a job as a server at a catering company, it wasn’t the most glamorous job. But at least for now it paid the bills. She was pretty sure her experience as a bartender helped her land the job. Because she was working the bar.

She knew she wasn’t serving drinks in the Ramblin’ Rose anymore. When someone asked for a drink that didn’t even noticed her. The conversation was not like the conversation there either. There people talked about their crops or the football game on Friday night. Here Ivy didn’t even understand half of what they were talking about.

About halfway through the party her feet were killing her. She was used to wearing sneakers instead of heels. She was looking forward to going home and taking a nice long hot bath.

Ivy was glad when the party was finally over. But instead of leaving on the service elevator with everyone else. She decided she wanted to going exploring. What she was wanting to see she didn’t know. She knew she could just go knock on someone’s door. They wouldn’t hesitate to throw her in jail.

She just wanted to say she walked down the hallway of a luxury building. And not feel like the help even though she was. Taking her shoes off as she stepped onto the plush carpet that line the hallway. She couldn’t help the gasp that escaped her lips. Wow. She thought inwardly tippy toeing down the hallway. Hoping not to disturb anyone or get caught by someone.

She decided to explore just one floor. She didn’t dare explore more. Ivy pushed the button to the elevator, knowing she should probably take the stairs. The penthouse was located on the top floor of thirty story building. She really didn’t want to walk down that many flight of stairs.

“Holy shit!” she exclaimed when the elevator doors opened. A well-dressed man was down on his knees and a beautiful woman had her dressed raised up. “I am so sorry,” Ivy cried. “I didn’t…” Whelp, I’m going to jail. She thought as she started to run for the stairwell. Should have taken it in the first damn place.

Ivy? Vincent thought when the elevators doors opened. “Ivy!” he yelled, slipping out of the elevator before it closed shut. He knew it had to be her by the way voice squeaked when she apologized. And how she stuttered when she was flustered.

What the hell is she doing here?

He thought he caught a glimpse of her raven hair slipping inside the door to the stairwell. “Ivy!” he yelled, his voice reverberating off the concrete walls. He picked up speed when he saw her head disappear.

Ivy didn’t stop when she thought she heard someone call her name. She didn’t know who would be calling her name. No one even knew she was here. Her breathing was getting heavier, but she didn’t stare stop. It sounded like someone was following her or maybe it was her own, echoing of the walls. She wasn’t about to stop to find out either.

Finally, she couldn’t take anymore, and she had to stop. And sit down to catch her breath. Why do I always get myself into this situations? She asked herself, covering her face with her hands. Her head shot up when she heard a vaguely familiar velvety voice.

“We really need to stop meeting in elevators, Ivy.”

Familiar dark smoldering eyes stared back down at her. Well. I’m going to jail. “Please,” she begged. “Don’t send me to jail. I’m sorry,” she sobbed, the tears streaming down her face.

“You’re not going to jail,” Vincent reassure her half chuckling, sitting on the step just above her. “Besides. I shouldn’t have mean in that position anyway,” he admitted, on instinct he wiped her tears away with the back of his knuckles.

“Mr. Barron,” Ivy sighed, that familiar trail of fire from Vincent’s gentle graze on her cheek. “I’m sorry Mr. Barron,” she pleaded, her eyes wide with fear. “I didn’t mean… I didn’t … Please. “Don’t send me to jail,” the tear falling uncontrollably.

“Ivy,” he said soothingly. “No one is sending you to jail,” he reassured her once again. The look on her face told him she wasn’t convinced.

“Thank you,” Ivy said, finally feeling convinced that she wasn’t going to jail. “I’d better be going,” Ivy said, standing up to leave. “Wait? How did you know that I was…?” Then it hit her, he was the man in the elevator. “Oh,” Ivy gasped, covering her mouth. “I definitely better be going. Your… Um---friend is waiting,” she said, a silly grin on her face.

Shit. Vincent hadn’t hoped that she realized that it was him in the elevator. “She was just leaving,” he lied. Now that she was here, he wasn’t letting her get away. Not until he knew more about her.

“Hell of a goodbye,” Ivy muttered under her breath. “It was nice seeing you again Mr. Barron. But I really need to be going,” Ivy said, starting to take a step down.

“Call me Vincent,” he said, grabbing her wrist keeping her from taking another step. He wanted to stand up, but his dick was begging to be set free. That was the last thing he wanted her to see. Especially, after what she just saw. “Let me explain,” he heard himself saying. He had no idea what he was going to say. He sure as hell couldn’t tell her that she was the reason he was in that position.

“Mr. Barron,” Ivy said, jerking her hand free. “We’re both adults here. You don’t need to explain to me,” hoping she sounded nonchalant. For some weird reason it kind of pissed her off that he was with someone else. Get a clue. Why would a man like him want a nobody like you?

Before Vincent could move Ivy was running down the stairs. “Fuck!” he yelled, running after her. He ran after her a couple of floors but never could catch up with her. “Shit!” he cursed, slamming his fist into the concrete wall.

He was not a happy man as he made the long trek up to his apartment. He couldn’t believe she slipped away from him again. As he climbed the stairs the look on her face when she realized he was the one in the elevator haunted him. “Damn.” Now Ivy was going to see him as a man who didn’t care where he fucked a woman. He was that kind of man, but he didn’t want Ivy to know that.

By the time Vincent made it to his apartment he and dick were exhausted. He didn’t know where the woman he had picked up at the bar went to. And he really didn’t care he didn’t even know her name. Well. At least you will behave. He said silently to his dick when he stripped down naked climbing into bed. Ivy, thinking badly of him, had finally taken the wind out of his sail.

Ivy took the stairs as far as she could then took the elevator the rest of the way down. She saw that there was a doorman at the front entrance of the building. “Shoot,” she muttered, knowing she couldn’t leave that way.

Then she remembered there was a back entrance when they came in. She quickly made her way to the back making sure no one saw her. When she was outside, she let out the breath that she had been holding. On the walk back to the catering company Ivy wondered why Mr. Barron wanted to explain to her. Why he was in the position he was in. She still didn’t understand why it kind of pissed her off that he was.

Why would a man like that ever want a nobody like you?