The blonde who showed up at his hotel room did not disappoint. She was sent over from an agency that specialized in providing evening encounters with some of the most beautiful women that Las Vegas had to offer. The business catered only to the rich and famous and there was a strict membership policy and background check involved for any potential client. From simple escort services to more erotic pleasures, everything and anything could be arranged for at a price.
"Oliver Queen?"
Oliver nodded and held the door open.
The woman walked passed him into the penthouse suite and paused to look down at the view of the Las Vegas strip below them. She turned around and smiled. "My name is Meghan."
Oliver silently regarded the woman in front of him. "I'm guessing that's not the truth. I would prefer to call you by your real name if you would let me."
She shook her head. "I'm sorry Mr. Queen, Meghan may not be entirely accurate but I promise you there's some truth to it. It's safer that I go by something generic when I'm working. You can choose to call me something different if you would like."
"Trust me, there is nothing generic about you... Meghan". Oliver let his eyes run up and down the length of her body appreciatively. She was about average height but the tight fitting gold dress she was wearing was cut short and highlighted her well-toned legs becomingly. The three-inch heels only added to the appeal. Her hair was styled loosely and it fell in blond waves past her shoulders. Her face was flawless and she brandished little makeup aside from brightly painted lips. The Las Vegas sun had tinted the remainder of her skin a golden brown and it seemed to glow on her back and sides where her dress had left her bare. He knew that she would be considered beautiful by anyone's standards.
She raised her eyebrows. "I hope I meet with your approval Mr. Queen."
He chuckled at her acknowledgement of his appreciation. "Please, call me Oliver. May I offer you a drink?" He smiled lazily and gestured towards a fully stocked bar.
"A glass of red wine please."
Oliver smiled and poured two glasses from the wine that was decanting on the counter.
Meghan took a drink from the glass he handed to her. "Just to be clear, you are aware that I'm contracted for escort services only?"
"I am well aware of that actually. The booking agent was very clear." Oliver counted on his fingers as he listed off the rules put in place by the agency. "Nothing more intimate than handholding. Touching is only permitted on areas not covered by clothing. No kissing. Is that about it?"
Meghan nodded then cocked her head to study him for a moment.
"You look as though you want to ask me a question," he said.
"You pay me so that I don't ask a lot of questions Mr. Queen."
"Oliver," he insisted. "No seriously, I want to know what you're thinking."
She gave him a frank appraisal of her own. Her eyes lingered long enough on his frame to let him know that she also liked what she saw. "It's just that you don't seem like the kind of guy who would have a problem procuring a date for the evening. Specifically a date without as many... limitations."
"Sometimes it's just easier to finance these things. Much less complicated than trying to explain why I didn't call the next day or trying to live up to someone's expectations." Oliver paused in thought for a moment. "Boundaries are good," he said simply.
She nodded and touched the rim of her glass to his. "To boundaries," she said and then took another sip of wine. "You look a lot different than you do in your photographs." She cringed and continued quickly, "Not that I spend a lot of time staring at photos of you. That came out much creepier than it sounded in my head." Meghan closed her eyes and started over, "I may have googled you before coming over here."
Oliver smiled genuinely at her. He enjoyed seeing her break character and become flustered for a moment. "Most of the photographs online are prior to five years ago. I've been out of the country for sometime," he said.
She continued to regard him and didn't seem surprised at his revelation. It led Oliver to believe that she had done more research on him than just a glance or two at a few photos on an online search engine.
"So now that we've established what we won't be doing tonight, what will we actually be doing this evening Oliver? Is there anything about our 'relationship' I should know about ahead of time?"
"The expectations for tonight are quite simple. The affiliate shareholders that I'm meeting with downstairs expect Oliver Queen to show up with a beautiful woman. Believe me, they are not interested in how we met or how long we've been dating."
"So I'm just a pretty face."
"Exactly." He smiled in a way that he knew was more reminiscent of the playboy he was a lifetime ago.
They finished their drinks and Oliver indicated that it was time to head down to meet their party. His fingertips brushed against her side as he led her towards the private elevator taking them to the ground floor of the hotel. He bristled at the small jolt of electricity he felt at their touch. It surprised him. He tried to catch her eyes to see if she felt it too but she keep her eyes fixed forward as they waited for their ride downstairs.
They managed to keep up a steady flow of banter between one another while including the other members of their group. Meghan played to her role beautifully. She was witty and intelligent and many of the men cast Oliver a jealous look or two throughout the course of the night. The bulk of the shareholders in attendance were interested less in conducting business and more in getting the most out of their company sponsored trip to Sin City. Walter was correct in assuming Oliver could handle the weekend on his own. They all had dinner in the four star restaurant at the hotel and then moved to the nightclub adjacent for drinks and dancing.
Technically Oliver didn't even come close to violating the agency's no touching clause. He only touched Meghan on the areas not covered by her clothing - it's just that her clothing left a lot of areas still available for him to touch. He found that he couldn't, or more accurately didn't want to, keep his hands off of her. He had always been a tactile man. He spent the majority of the time they spent together touching her. His fingers traced circles on her thigh as she sat next to him at dinner. His hand gently led her to the dance floor and then lingered on the small of her back as they danced at the club. Through the course of the evening he had even carefully brushed a stray lock of hair from her face just to see if it felt as soft as it looked. Only once did she balk at his advances. He had allowed his hand to stray too far up her thigh and his fingertips slipped briefly under the slit of her dress. She simply gave him a look and gently repositioned his hand so that he was in a more neutral location on her mid-thigh.
The night had stretched into the early morning hours by the time everything wound down. Meghan accompanied Oliver back to his hotel suite to pick up her purse and jacket. Oliver leaned against the wall and watched as she collected her missing items.
"I don't fly back to Starling City until the day after tomorrow. What if I was to find myself in need of companionship again?"
She smiled at him. "You know how to get a hold of me." She broke eye contact first and started to move towards the door. He caught one of her wrists and pulled her back towards him so that she was as close as she could be to him without actually touching. He could feel her pulse quicken through the thin membrane of skin on her wrist and he released his hold. She didn't step back but instead kept her eyes trained on his.
He knew in that moment that he wanted to kiss her. He brought his hand up to her cheek and slowly leaned in towards her.
She averted her eyes and turned her head slightly to block his advance. They were so close that Oliver could feel her breath against his cheek.
"This is Las Vegas Mr. Queen. There are a lot of women here who are readily available to satisfy any other requests you may have this evening. I am not one of those women." She flicked her eyes to his and continued, "I could place a call to the agency for you if you would like."
Oliver let his hand fall slowly from her face. She shivered involuntarily as his fingers trailed off her skin. He noticed her response and realized that she wasn't as completely unaffected by him as she would have him believe. He moved away from her so that they were no longer standing so close to one another. "I apologize, I was out of line. That won't be necessary." He stepped back to allow her clear access to the exit.
She turned to face him in the doorway before she left. She closed her eyes and made a face as if she was trying to decide whether or not to tell him something. "Felicity," she said suddenly locking her eyes with his once again.
"Pardon me?" Oliver asked looking confused.
"Earlier on you asked me what my real name was. It's Felicity." She gave him a half smile and continued to make her way out of the luxury suite.
"Goodnight... Felicity," Oliver said stretching out the three syllables of her name as he closed the hotel room door softly behind her.
He had a feeling he was going to try and make his life a whole lot more complicated.