Stuck-Up Suit

by Vi Keeland

  As I sunk into her, trying not to crush her with the weight of my eager body, I whispered into her ear, “I love you so much, Soraya.” Withdrawing and thrusting all the way into her again, I repeated, “I love you.”

  She responded simply by grasping onto me tighter, bucking her hips and guiding my body. I wanted so badly for her to return those three words back to me. Instead, she remained silent until I felt wetness on my shoulders.

  She was crying.

  “Baby, what’s wrong?”

  My heart was beating faster. Had I been delusional in thinking that she was handling everything okay? Was it all unraveling?

  When I slowed my movements, she muttered, “Don’t stop, Graham. Please don’t stop.”

  Frustrated, I picked up the pace, fucking her harder than I meant to. She screamed out in pleasure as her muscles pulsated around my cock. I came so hard, emptying inside of her.

  Our chests rose and fell as we panted on top of one another.

  She looked into my eyes for the longest time and seemed to be struggling with her words. What she finally said nearly undid me.

  “Your name may not be tattooed over my heart, but it will always be etched into my soul. I’ve spent over two decades thinking I was incapable of being loved. Thank you for proving me wrong. You’ve changed my life.”

  Even though it didn’t contain the three words I hoped to hear, in many ways, it meant even more.

  We made love three more times that night, each time more intense than the last. While Soraya finally fell asleep in my arms, a foreboding feeling kept me awake.

  ***

  OVER THE NEXT WEEK, it started to become clear that I’d had good reason to be worried. Soraya gave me a different story every night as to why she couldn’t see me.

  Her sister needed help moving.

  Her mother wanted to go shopping.

  She had plans with Tig and Delia.

  Dread multiplied each day as I thought back to our last encounter, which while sensual and passionate had elements of bizarre behavior on Soraya’s part.

  As much as her words about my changing her life touched me, I couldn’t help obsessing over the fact that not once had she used the word love. With each passing hour, that omission seemed to have growing significance.

  Maybe she didn’t love me.

  Either way, something was wrong, and I needed to get to the bottom of it. I tried hard to give her the space she apparently wanted. I focused on Chloe to take my mind off of the fact that Soraya was distancing herself from me.

  By week’s end, though, she’d left me with no choice but to wait in front of her apartment until she showed up. Supposedly, she was with Tig and Delia again. But that sure as fuck was not who she came strolling down the street with hand in hand at nine o’clock at night.

  CHAPTER 28

  SORAYA

  IT ALL HAPPENED SO FAST.

  Marco and I had just left Tig’s shop. Since Graham and I hadn’t seen each other in a few days, I had a suspicion that he might show up unannounced one night this week. I just had no idea which night it would be. Our plan for tonight was the same as last night. We’d sit around, watch movies, and wait to see if Graham surprised me with a visit. If he did, I would let Graham see Marco inside my apartment and tell him that I was sorry, I’d met someone, and that I didn’t mean to hurt him.

  It wouldn’t be that hard to believe. Sitting next to Marco on the subway, even I had to admit that we looked more like a couple than Graham and I ever did. With his olive skin, spiked dark hair, Italian horn around his neck, and bulging biceps, he was more like Pauly D. from Jersey Shore than a man who commanded a boardroom. In all honesty, before Graham, he was my type. Although not Marco, specifically. We’d known each other way too long for that.

  Marco was Tig’s cousin; we’d all been friends since we were kids. Even though I hadn’t seen him in a few years, I knew he would do me the favor of pretending to be my boyfriend. When Tig called him down to the shop on Monday, he’d agreed to do it even before I’d explained the circumstances.

  “You okay, dollface?” Marco squeezed my knee.

  “Just nervous.”

  “You want to go over what you want me to say if he shows, again?”

  “No.” I forced a smile. “We have the plan down.”

  So I thought.

  But what I didn’t plan for was Graham standing outside of my building before I even got there. He was leaning against his car, looking down, texting on his phone. Luckily, I saw him before he saw me. Jumping into panic mode, knowing what was about to happen, I quickly grabbed Marco’s hand. When Graham looked up and saw me, I actually watched the moment I broke his heart play out on his face. Even from halfway down the block, his eyes lit up for a split second when he caught sight of me. That light was quickly extinguished when he saw the tall, dark, tatted hipster I was holding hands with.

  My heart was completely eviscerated seeing the hurt in his eyes. I’d practiced the things I would say to him over and over a thousand times, yet when he stormed to us on the street, I was unable to speak.

  “Soraya? What the fuck?”

  I stared down at the sidewalk, unable to look Graham in the eyes. Marco figured out what was going on and jumped in to ad lib.

  “You must be Grant. Soraya told me there was a possibility you could show up before she had a chance to talk to you.”

  “Talk to me about what? Soraya? What the fuck is going on?” Graham was practically screaming at this point.

  “Dude. Calm down. She was going to tell you. We just talked about it last night at dinner.”

  “At dinner? Last night? Soraya! Answer me. What the hell is going on?”

  When I didn’t respond and still didn’t look at him, Graham reached for me. Playing the part of a protective boyfriend came naturally to Marco. He stepped partially in front of me and got in Graham’s face.

  “Dude. I’m only going to warn you once. Keep your hands to yourself, and don’t touch my girl. I don’t want to have to kick your pretty boy ass out here on the street.”

  “Your girl?”

  Everything happened so quickly after that. Graham took a step back, then began to turn away, only to rear back and throw all of his weight behind a punch that slammed into Marco’s jaw. A loud cracking sound made acid rise up my throat, and for a second, I thought I was going to vomit right there on the street. I wasn’t immediately sure if the sound was Marco’s jaw or Graham’s hand breaking. My heartbeat was pulsing so loudly in my ears; for all I knew it could have been the sound of my own heart shattering.

  Marco staggered back a few steps, his hand going to his jaw in an attempt to ease the pain. But I’d grown up watching Tig and Marco brawl, and I knew a little thing like a broken jaw was not going end this fight. Before I could get between them, Marco lunged at Graham. The two men collided, and Marco slammed Graham up against a parked car.

  “Stop!” I’d finally managed to speak. “Please, stop! Marco, no!”

  Graham somehow managed to toss Marco aside, and then he was standing in front of me, his chest heaving up and down, knuckles split and bleeding. Without thinking, I reached out for his injured hand. “Graham.”

  He pulled away from my touch as if it was fire. “Say it, Soraya.”

  I looked down.

  “Say it! Tell me you’re a fucking cheater and I’m a God damn idiot. Because even though I’m seeing it right in front of my eyes, I still don’t want to believe it.”

  Tears rolled down my face. I couldn’t look at him.

  When he spoke again, his voice was low and pained. He sounded broken. “Look at me, Soraya. Look at me.”

  I finally mustered the courage to raise my head. Staring into his eyes, tears streaming down my face, I told him the absolute truth. “I’m so sorry, Graham.”

  His eyes closed for a moment before he turned, got into his car, and drove away without another word. I watched, sobbing, until I could no longer see a trace of his car.

  What had I
just done?

  ***

  “DON’T BE SUCH A PUSSY.” Tig’s hands were cupping his cousin’s face. He had showed up with Del fifteen minutes after Marco and I came inside my apartment. I hadn’t even realized Marco had called them.

  “I really think that should be done in the emergency room.” It was the second time I’d voiced my opinion that Marco’s obviously dislocated jaw should be reset in the hospital.

  “It’s fine. I’ve done it before. Three times when he was doing that stupid kickboxing shit.” He handed Marco the bottle of Jack he had brought with him. “One more swig, make it a good one.”

  Poor Marco gulped from the bottle then stood in front of his cousin with his eyes closed. “Ready.”

  “On three. One…”

  “Fuuuuuuccck!” Marco let out a bloodcurdling scream, and I ran to the bathroom. This time, I really did vomit.

  When I came back, Tig chuckled. “I forgot what a girl you are.”

  “You said on three and did it on one. You didn’t give me a chance to run out of the room.”

  “Of course I did it on one. Who the fuck actually does it on three when the person is tensed up and waiting for it?”

  “How the hell would I know?”

  “Get your loverboy a bag of peas, will you, babe?”

  I dug into the freezer, searching for a bag of something frozen. But I didn’t even have any vegetables. “I don’t eat peas.”

  “What else you got?”

  I pulled out a box of Choco Tacos—ice cream in the shape of a taco. Tig pulled one from the box and handed it to his cousin. “That’s perfect. A taco for the pussy who gets his jaw dislocated by a suit.”

  Marco winced bringing the frozen ice cream to rest against his cheek. “Throws a good punch for a pretty boy.”

  “I take it that things didn’t go exactly as planned?” Del had held me in her arms until I’d finally stopped sobbing. By then, Tig was playing doctor with his poor cousin.

  “Not at all. We never even made it into my apartment. He saw us on the street, so I panicked and grabbed Marco’s hand.”

  “That must have given him a good visual.”

  I blew out a deep breath. “It was awful. He was so hurt, Del.”

  “You knew he would be. You think he bought it?”

  I nodded my head, silent tears again streaming down my face. “He did. Honestly, I don’t think there was any other way to do it. Even seeing me holding another man’s hand and hearing Marco call me his girl, he still wanted confirmation. He believed in us so much, he didn’t even want to accept it when it was right before his eyes. He’s been that way since the day I met him. I never knew a man could be so unwavering in his love and support. It was the most beautiful part about him.”

  When my shoulders began to shake again, Del wrapped me back in her arms. “He’s going to give that to his little girl. You wanted to do this for her. That part of him won’t change. It just won’t be you he’s devoted to anymore.”

  CHAPTER 29

  GRAHAM

  “REBECCA!”

  Was it so hard to find competent people these days? I smacked the intercom button down again, yelling louder. “Rebecca!” There was no way she couldn’t hear me the last ten minutes. The entire damn office had to have heard me, even though my office door was shut. With no response, I went in search of my secretary. Her desk was empty, and it looked like she wasn’t in today, even though she was sitting there when I walked in only three hours ago. Grumbling to myself with a stack of papers, I headed to reception.

  “Where is Rebecca?”

  “Who?”

  “My secretary. She’s not at her desk again.”

  “Oh. You mean Eliza.”

  “Whatever. Where is she?”

  “She quit this morning, Mr. Morgan.”

  “She what?”

  “She quit.”

  “Jesus Christ. It’s impossible to find dependable staff anymore.” I tossed the stack of papers I was holding onto the reception desk. “I need five sets of these.”

  A little while later, there was a knock at my door. “What?”

  The receptionist held the photocopies I’d asked for, along with a stack of newspapers. “Where would you like the copies?”

  I pointed with my finger, without looking up from my work. “On the credenza.”

  “You haven’t been taking your newspapers out of your mail slot this week, so I brought them to you.”

  “I don’t want them.”

  A few minutes later, I still hadn’t looked up, and I realized that the receptionist was still in my office. Sighing, I acknowledged her, not that I wanted to. But seeing as she was standing on the other side of my desk staring at me, she left me little choice. “What?”

  “Ava. My name is Ava.”

  “I know that.”

  “May I say something, Mr. Morgan?”

  I tossed my pen on my desk. “You’ve already interrupted me, so spit out whatever it is you’d like to say, and get it over with.”

  She nodded. “I’ve worked here for two years now.”

  Really? “And…”

  “Do you know how many secretaries you’ve had in that time?”

  “I have no idea. But since you’re wasting my time, I’m going to assume you’re about to enlighten me.”

  “Forty-two.”

  “In a city this size, it’s pretty damn amazing how difficult it is to find good help.”

  “Do you know why they leave?”

  “I’m not sure I care.”

  “They leave because you’re normally a tyrant to work for.”

  My eyebrows jumped. “Is that so, Ava?”

  “It is, Mr. Morgan.”

  “So why are you still here? You just said yourself that you’ve been here for two years.”

  She shrugged. “My dad used to be like you. Plus, we don’t have that much interaction since I’m up at reception all day. Most days you whiz by me and don’t even acknowledge my existence. Which is fine with me.”

  “And your point to all this is? Are you trying to end your two-year streak of putting up with me? Because in about ten seconds, I think you will have succeeded.”

  “No, sir. The point I wanted to make is that…well…a few months ago you started to change. Eliza, your secretary, was here for almost six weeks, and she actually seemed to like her job.”

  I stared at her, but said nothing, forcing her to continue.

  “Until a few days ago. When Angry Mr. Morgan walked back in. I don’t know what happened, but whatever it is, I’m sorry. And I hope we get Nice Mr. Morgan back again real soon.”

  Nice Mr. Morgan? He was the asshole who got stepped on. “Are you done yet, Ava?”

  “I am. I’m sorry if I upset you. I just wanted to say you seemed happy. And now you’re not.”

  I picked up my pen and proceeded to bury myself back in my work. Ava took the hint this time. Just as she was about to walk out, I asked, “What happened to your dad?”

  “Pardon?”

  “You said your dad used to be like me.”

  “Oh. He met my stepmother. Now he’s different.”

  “Leave the newspapers on the credenza and don’t let the door hit you on the ass on your way out.”

  ***

  I POURED MYSELF A DRINK and stared out my office window. It was dark already. For the last three days, I left the house before the sun rose and returned in the middle of the night. I was exhausted, and it had nothing to do with lack of sleep. The anger that I’d been carrying around was physically draining. Blood boiled in my veins. I was distraught, rejected, betrayed, filled with fury. Hurt squeezed the cold muscle that had replaced the warm heart inside my chest—a heart that had only just begun to thaw after meeting Soraya.

  I’d been betrayed before. Fuck, Genevieve and Liam were my best friend and fiancé. When shit went down with them, I’d lost two people who had been the biggest part of my life for years. Yet that loss felt nothing like this. No, there was no compari
son. This was utter devastation—the type of loss you feel when you lose someone to death. I still couldn’t get over what Soraya had done to me…what she’d done to us. Never would I have thought she was capable of being unfaithful. The woman I fell in love with was open and honest. It made me question if I had ever really known her at all.

  My phone vibrated in my pocket, and just as I did for the last three days, my hopes rose longing to see Soraya’s name flash on the screen. But, of course, it wasn’t; she was gone. I gulped back the contents of my glass and answered.

  “Genevieve.”

  “Graham. What’s going on? Where have you been?”

  “I’ve been busy.”

  “Chloe is starting to ask questions. You’ve canceled on seeing her two nights in a row. She’s very vulnerable right now after losing Liam and needs consistency. She needs you, Graham. Somehow, she’s already grown attached.”

  I closed my eyes. The last thing I wanted to do was let Chloe down. I’d canceled because I didn’t want her to see me this way—unhappy and angry. But I was a parent now. I needed to get my head out of my ass for the sake of my daughter. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

  “What’s going on with you?”

  “Nothing that concerns you.”

  “Is something going on with that girlfriend of yours?”

  I ignored her question. “How about if I come for breakfast in the morning and then take Chloe to school?”

  “That would be good.” The phone went quiet for a minute. “Chloe isn’t the only one who misses you, Graham. I like having you around.”

  “I’ll see you at seven tomorrow, Genevieve.”

  After I hung up, I set my empty glass on the credenza. The pile of newspapers that Ava had left were still there. The City Post, the paper that Ask Ida was printed in each day. I picked the top one up and stared at it. I’d intentionally avoided going anywhere near the paper, unable to trust myself not to scour the Ask Ida column for traces of Soraya’s words. The last thing I needed was to read her giving advice to some poor schlep on the topic of love or cheating. No fucking way. I threw the paper back on the pile and decided to call it a day.