“Are you sure?”
Her head bobbed agreement; her eyes hinted at the opposite.
Doubt poked at him like a woodpecker tap-tap-tapping on his brain, warning him that there was more bothering Rosa than her pregnancy and meeting his mother. She hadn’t said or hinted at what it could be, so he had absolutely nothing to go on other than gut instinct.
Had she done some digging around, discovered his connection to Roger? Worse, was it making her doubt him?
The age-old insecurity that had taken root early in his childhood sprouted another suffocating vine.
He needed to level with her. Stop anxiously waiting for the other shoe to drop.
He was too afraid she’d look at him in an unfavorable light. Wasn’t sure how he’d deal with it if she did.
Annoyed with his inability to man up and broach the topic with her, Jeremy jabbed the stop button on the control panel. The elevator made an ear-piercing screech before the car started moving again.
Rosa shot him a worried glance.
God, he hoped bringing her here hadn’t been a mistake.
They’d actually made progress this week. Slowly easing back into the camaraderie they’d built over the past few years. Especially when they’d been together on campus.
The past few mornings, they’d fallen into an easy routine. She used their shared bathroom first while he headed downstairs to brew fresh mint tea with ginger for her. Evenings, he took care of a simple meal and the dishes while she stayed off her feet. Friday night, they’d dimmed the living room lights and watched a documentary about the jazz era until she’d fallen asleep, her head nestled on his shoulder. Yesterday, she’d read or written in her poetry journal on the couch for most of the day while he’d taken care of some work on his laptop. After they’d said an early good night, he’d continued working in Yaz’s room.
This morning, Yaz had swung by to pick up Rosa for mass. He’d tried not to be hurt when Rosa had told him it was best he not go with her. No need to fan the gossip fires by having him sitting beside her in the pew, she’d said.
He was used to being the subject of gossip columns. Rosa, however, was not.
They were good together, even though they still mostly danced around their attraction. Well, except for that kiss in the school library.
His body pulsed at the memory.
Same as their first night together, Rosa had surprised him, going all in, matching his intensity kiss for kiss. Murmuring her pleasure when he nuzzled her neck, teased her with tiny brushes of his lips.
He wanted more though. Especially because he knew how amazing it would be with her.
The past few nights, leaving her at her bedroom door after they said good night, he’d had to fist his hands and force himself to step away from her. What he really wanted was to follow her inside, start where they’d left off in the hotel room the morning after.
Only, she hadn’t given him any sign that she’d welcome him back into her bed. And he wouldn’t make any move until she did.
23-24-25. The floor numbers lit up one after the other, drawing closer to his parents’ place on the 42nd floor.
Right now was not the time for him to be thinking about how sexy Rosa was, or how easily she turned him on. Or how badly he wanted her in his bed again, moaning with satisfaction.
The need to feel a connection with her drove Jeremy to reach out and cover her hand with his. Hers were ice cold.
She glanced up at him, anxiously gnawing on her lip.
“If it’s any consolation, I’m probably more nervous than you are.”
Rosa gave him a what are you talking about? frown.
“I mean, what if you don’t like my mom? Then what? You have nothing to worry about. I’m sure my mom’s already half in love with you based on what I’ve told her,” he explained. “I’m betting that, five minutes in, you’ll have her eating out of the palm of your hand.”
Rosa scoffed, but her lips curved, hinting at her sweet smile and easing his reservations.
“Thank you. I appreciate the pep talk.” She twisted her wrist to link her fingers with his.
Lifting their joined hands to his mouth, he kissed the back of hers. Hoping it eased her jitters as much as it did his own.
Because he did have jitters. He realized that now.
This whole time he’d been so worried about her, he’d ignored the tangled mass of knots inside of him. As each floor passed, bringing them closer to the penthouse, Jeremy’s heart hammered faster and faster as if he were sprinting toward the Chicago marathon finish line again.
God, how he wanted this to go well. For Rosa to feel comfortable in his childhood home, with his mom and family, though Michael wouldn’t be around today.
The clock was ticking. Their baby’s due date grew closer with each day. Even if he was no longer pushing Rosa toward marriage, he couldn’t let go of the idea. He still thought about the two of them being married and ready to start their family together when their child arrived. Their time together this week had solidified that in his mind.
This afternoon was an important step in making that goal a reality.
Everything had to go right today. So much depended on that.
Finally, the elevator eased to a stop. The doors whooshed open, and Jeremy ushered Rosa out with him.
Chapter Thirteen
Rosa barely contained her gasp of awe when the elevator doors opened to an ornately decorated foyer.
Jeremy led her out with a hand on the small of her back. If not, she might have still been inside when the doors slid shut.
It was like stepping into a picture straight out of Chicago’s Architectural Digest magazine. White marble floors gleamed, leading into a formal living room lined with glass windows overlooking what appeared to be a sizable outdoor patio. Several dainty, more than likely antique hutches held beautiful statues and delicate vases with fresh flowers. The high ceilings were elaborately accented with intricate crown molding, perfectly framing large pieces of beautiful artwork.
A middle-aged woman dressed in black slacks and a white button-down with a grey cardigan stood off to the side. She greeted them with a polite smile. “Good afternoon, Mr. Taylor.”
“Hello, Mrs. Davis, it’s nice to see you again. This is Rosa Fernandez.” Jeremy shrugged out of his coat and handed it to the maid.
“Hello, miss.”
Rosa blinked, still taken aback by the wealth surrounding her, feeling uncomfortably like she’d entered a museum. “Oh, hello. Please, call me Rosa.”
“Here, let me help you.” Jeremy moved behind her, reaching to slide her jacket off her shoulders.
“Thanks,” she murmured.
“Is my mom around?” he asked, as the maid took Rosa’s jacket from him. “She should be expecting us.”
“Yes, she’s in the library with Ms. Millward. If you’ll excuse me, I will let them know you’ve arrived.”
“Wait!”
Rosa jumped at his blunt command. Mrs. Davis, who had turned toward a hallway off to the right, looked surprised as well.
“I’m sorry, did you say Ms. Millward?” Jeremy asked, his tone making his displeasure evident.
“She and her father arrived about an hour ago,” Mrs. Davis answered. “Mr. Millward and Mr. Taylor have been in the study ever since.”
The frown puckering his brow confirmed Rosa’s guess that he wasn’t too happy about the news that his parents had extra company.
She wasn’t too happy about the full house herself. Jeremy had told her his dad had wound up going into the office, so she’d only be meeting his mom today. She’d been happy about that reprieve.
Obviously there’d been a change in plans though.
Her anxiety ratcheted up. If she’d thought meeting Laura Taylor might be intimidating, Jeremy’s dad, tough lawyer for Chicago’s elite, would be worse.
Rosa took a backward step, coming to halt when she felt Jeremy’s hand on the small of her back.
“Thank you, Mrs. Davis. I apprecia
te the heads-up. We’ll be waiting in the living room.”
The moment the maid started down the hall, Jeremy moved to stand facing Rosa. He grasped her hands, his expression conciliatory.
“I had no idea Cecile and her dad would be here.”
Cecile.
It took a moment for the name to register with Rosa’s memory. Cecile Millward had been Jeremy’s plus-one at Yazmine’s wedding. The statuesque, aloof blonde who’d ditched him because she’d felt it more important to be seen at some charity event.
If her dad was Harold Millward, Cecile had been more than a simple wedding date or an ex with whom Jeremy had decided to remain friends. Harold was Sherman’s law partner, the other half of Taylor & Millward, Chicago’s top litigation boutique firm. The two lawyers’ careers were intertwined; rarely did you hear about one without mention of the other. The same could be said about their families.
Lilí loved skimming the society pages. Oohing and aahing over some fancy benefit or soiree. Pointing out pictures of a designer dress or a cool pair of heels neither one of them could afford. Since Yaz had introduced them to Jeremy several years ago, Lilí had really keyed in to any mention of his family and the people they were often seen with. That’s why Cecile had seemed familiar to Rosa the night of the wedding. She simply hadn’t been able to put two and two together until now.
“Rosa? What’s wrong? Are you feeling okay?”
Jeremy’s concern pulled Rosa out of her thoughts.
He tucked her hair behind her ear, ducking down to make eye contact with her.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” She leaned away from his touch, fighting her rising anxiety. “Can we sit down somewhere?”
“Sure, come on.” He led her into the formal living room, past another ornate antique hutch, this one displaying what looked like a collection of Fabergé eggs, to a deep green brocade–covered sofa with dark wood accents. It was more decorative than comfortable, its stiff cushions definitely not conducive to napping like the couch at her house, but it would do.
“I’m sorry for the welcome wagon that seems to have assembled,” Jeremy said, sitting down next to her.
“Don’t worry about it. I’m thinking it can’t be as bad as when you had to deal with Tía Dolores.”
She hoped so, anyway.
Jeremy chuckled wryly. “She does know how to keep a guy on his toes. Understandably, when it comes to you girls. She’s called me to check up on you every day since she and Pablo left for Puerto Rico.”
“No way!”
“Yep.”
Dios mío, que vergüenza. The embarrassment had Rosa covering her face with a hand. “I had no idea.”
“Hey, I get it. I’ve been worried about you, too.” Jeremy grasped her wrist, gently pulling her hand down to the cushion between them. He held on to it, giving her a reassuring squeeze. “Had she been the one staying with you, I would have done the same.”
The tap-tap-tap of heels on the marble floor echoed from the foyer connecting the living room with the wings off to the right and left of the penthouse.
“Listen, Mom knows about the baby. I’m sure she told Sherman. But I asked them to keep it under wraps until you’re ready, so I’m fairly certain Cecile and her dad don’t know. Okay?”
“Thank you,” Rosa murmured.
At least she didn’t have to worry about the socialite having another reason to look down her nose at her. Cecile hadn’t been the friendliest at Yazmine’s wedding. No telling how Cecile would react to Rosa showing up here, on what the other woman probably considered her own turf.
“Sweetheart, I’m happy you were able to make it today.”
Laura Taylor floated into the living room on a pair of conservative heels, her tall, slim figure casually stylish in navy fitted pants and a cream turtleneck sweater. Dark blond hair the same color as Jeremy’s was slicked back in a tight chignon any of Yazmine’s dance students would admire. A simple pair of gold and diamond studs accented her ears, and a diamond pendant hung from a delicate gold chain.
His mom’s simple, understated elegance and friendly welcoming smile reminded Rosa of Jeremy.
“Rosa, it’s so wonderful to finally meet you.” Laura extended her hand in greeting at the same time Rosa instinctively opened her arms for a hug.
There was a brief moment of awkwardness as Rosa regrouped and stuck out her hand and Laura leaned in for the hug. They ended up with clasped hands squashed between them as they gave each other a one-arm embrace.
Mortified, Rosa drew back, a heated blush seeping into her face. “I appreciate the invitation, Mrs. Taylor.”
“Please, call me Laura.”
Rosa bobbed her head in response, then turned to the younger woman who had entered with Jeremy’s mother. “Hello, Cecile. It’s nice to see you again.”
The socialite tilted her head in greeting, the highlights in her blond bob catching the light cast by the pair of intricate chandeliers dangling from the high ceilings. A short-sleeved fuchsia sweater dress hit Cecile mid-thigh, hugging her model-slim curves. The pair of black leather over-the-knee boots gave her a trendy, chic vibe that had Rosa tugging at the waist of her plain cable-knit sweater and resisting the urge to frown down at her sensible black skirt and flat-heeled faux suede boots.
This wasn’t a competition. Not as far as she was concerned.
Jeremy hugged both women hello. Rosa was unable to help noticing the way Cecile pressed her cheek to Jeremy’s, her hand remaining on his forearm slightly longer than necessary.
“This is a surprise. I didn’t know you were going to be here,” Jeremy said to Cecile.
“A good surprise, I trust.”
Dios mío, Rosa hadn’t remembered Cecile’s voice having that sultry undertone. Apparently neither Jeremy nor his mom, who smiled at Cecile’s compliment-seeking remark, seemed to notice. Mrs. Taylor laughed softly, gesturing toward the brocade-covered couch and matching wing chairs.
“Why don’t we sit down? I imagine Sherman and Harold will be done in the office and join us shortly. Apparently there’s some type of glitch with Sherman’s laptop or a file he tried to send.” She waved a hand over her shoulder toward the left wing of the penthouse, where no doubt the office was located.
Jeremy cupped Rosa’s elbow and led her back to the couch, leaving his mom and Cecile to take the wing chairs.
“Should you maybe go see if you can help?” Rosa asked him. He was, after all, an IT specialist.
Jeremy shook his head abruptly, exchanging an uncomfortable look with his mother.
Strange.
“Are you . . . sure?” Rosa tried again. The idea that she could help one of her sisters and not do so wasn’t something she’d ever entertained.
“I don’t really get involved with anything pertaining to the law firm,” Jeremy explained. Rosa’s surprise must have registered on her face because he went on. “They have an IT specialist. I’m sure he’s working on it for them.”
“Actually—”
“Jeremy decided ages ago,” Cecile said, at the same time Laura had started to speak, “when we were in college together, that he would go his own way professionally. Right, J?”
J?
Rosa had never heard anyone call him by that nickname. Then again, she wasn’t privy to his inner circle of friends like Cecile no doubt was.
He nodded, but Rosa caught his uncomfortable gulp. Noticed the tense flutter of his fingers against the cushion between them. Something was off here; she just didn’t know what.
“Personally, I find his independent streak admirable. Attractive, really. It’s part of what draws us to each other.”
Cecile’s blatantly flirtatious remark seemed to surprise Jeremy and his mom as much as it did Rosa. An awkward silence filled the room. Cecile crossed her long legs, a satisfied expression on her artfully made-up face.
Over the years, Rosa had been forced to wait for her turn in the bathroom while Yaz took forever doing her makeup. The experience had taught her that a flawless “natura
l look” like Cecile’s took effort, and more products than Rosa cared to deal with. She was fine with her fifteen minute routine.
Rosa knew what the other woman was doing, staking her claim.
Yazmine would have laughed at Cecile’s gall.
Lilí would have thrown it back at her, in spades.
Rosa found herself falling on old habits, accepting the rudeness without standing up to it. She despised herself for doing so, but as a visitor in the Taylors’ museum-esque home, no way would she risk offending someone who apparently was more than just the “old friend” Jeremy had described Cecile as on the night of the wedding.
Jeremy cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “Yes, well, that was a while ago, Cecile. But I, uh, appreciate your vote of confidence in my career choice.”
He angled on the couch toward Rosa, away from his former love interest. But was it former?
Rosa had a sinking feeling that if you asked Cecile, she’d say things between her and Jeremy weren’t finished.
“My younger brother, Michael, has taken the legal baton Sherman wanted to pass along to both of us,” Jeremy told her. “He’ll join the firm when he finishes law school and passes the bar.”
It hit Rosa that despite the amount of time they’d spent together last spring, not to mention this past week at her house, Jeremy hadn’t revealed much about his family life. Oh, he’d mentioned generalities like how he’d missed them when he lived in New York. He’d shared a few stories about his close relationship with his mom and memories of clowning around with his younger brother, but he had rarely mentioned his connection with Sherman. He praised Sherman as a good father, but Rosa had no idea what type of relationship they shared.
Could there be some problem or rift between the two of them she wasn’t aware of?
For someone who’d been unbelievably close with her dad, she found the idea incredibly sad.
“I’m more the black sheep of the family,” Jeremy added.
“You are not!” Laura’s grey eyes flashed with dismay.
“It’s a joke, Mom.” Jeremy waved off her concern, but Rosa didn’t.
Her Perfect Affair Page 20