Torrid

by Kaya Woodward

  “Excuse me? How many times do I have to tell you to speak up?” I ask.

  I roll my eyes at him.

  Diego returns before we can continue arguing.

  He trades places with Connor, so he is sitting next to Hazel now.

  “Do you mind, Senor?” he asks.

  “No, not at all, sir,” says Connor, seizing the opportunity to sit next to me.

  He grins, and moves close to me.

  Not quite touching, but now I'm angry.

  The whole thing makes me want to get up and walk out, but I'm stuck in the middle so I can't do this without making a scene.

  I wonder if I would get any real satisfaction from the expression on Connor's face if I walked on top of the table, possibly spilling the wine, and just left.

  However, Diego wraps his arm around Hazel, his other arm around the back of our booth, and Connor suddenly is jealous of them!

  What a complete ass!

  Connor wraps an arm around me, and I can barely sit still.

  How does Connor even get women into bed?

  “Relax,” he whispers.

  “No,” I argue, turning to him.

  “What are you doing? This is inappropriate considering I'm mad at you,” I tell him.

  Diego and Hazel are lost in some conversation, and she blushes when he whispers something in her ear.

  Her hand covers her left breast, but Diego slowly moves it away, and takes a peek down her cleavage.

  “Muy bien, senorita!” he declares.

  “Tinsley, you seem upset,” Connor croons.

  “Let me make it all better, sweetheart!” he says, grinning.

  Then, without warning, Connor forces his lips onto to mine.

  I can’t push him away before he sticks his tongue in my mouth.

  I spit it out, and I have to actively resist the urge to smack him.

  I shove him away.

  “Connor, that will not make me less mad at you,” I say, trying not to sound as disgusted as I feel.

  Diego and Hazel have noticed our little drama, so I keep my voice level.

  “Excuse me,” I say, pushing Connor out of the booth.

  I stand up, and walk towards the restrooms.

  I flash a warning expression at Hazel not to follow me, grabbing my clutch as I go, thoroughly shaken.

  Never did I foresee Connor forcing his tongue down my throat like a monkey making a show of his mate!

  It was like he was claiming his territory!

  I suppose that once Connor gets jealous, there's not stopping him from staking his claim.

  Apparently, I am it.

  I am surprised he didn’t try that trick with Hazel, too.

  I want nothing to do with Connor Bradford, I think as I disappear into the washroom.

  I lock the door behind me as I sit down on the toilet, looking down at my gold shoes.

  What was I expecting?

  I am on the verge of tears.

  I think of Noah.

  Did I really think that I could replace him?

  Now I'm stuck here.

  It would be natural to slip out the back door.

  Only what did I bring with me?

  Other than lipstick, and a few mints in my tiny clutch?

  My father's company is worth billions, but I have no money.

  I laugh, bitterly.

  Then, I realize I have my phone.

  Without thinking, I dial Noah's number.

  I sit on the toilet, biting my nails, trying to convince myself to hang up.

  “Tinsley thank god,” Noah answers.

  I swoon with relief.

  His strong voice makes my legs melt.

  It’s a good thing I am sitting down.

  “Noah, I need you to come get me,” I say, almost crying with relief.

  My voice is small.

  “Where are you?” his rough voice demands an answer.

  “I'm at this stupid restaurant, on a double date with Connor and Hazel, and he tried something, and I need to get out of here,” I manage to stammer.

  The words come out too fast, all jumbled together, as I suddenly am shaking with reaction from Connor’s assault on my senses.

  “I'll kill that son of a bitch!” Noah roars into the phone.

  “Where are you now?” he demands.

  “In the washroom,” I reply.

  “I'll murder that little bastard. Who the hell does he think he is? What's the address? Never mind, I know the place. Over on 38th, and Wall Street, right?” he says.

  He's shuffling through drawers in his office in the background, and I wonder what exactly I've done.

  Is he getting a gun?

  “Noah I'm fine. Just please come get me,” I implore.

  He swallows so hard that I hear it.

  “I'm coming, Tinsley,” he says.

  The phone clicks off, and I sit there, my heart racing.

  When I open the washroom door fifteen minutes later, Noah is standing there.

  “No one saw me,” he whispers, taking me by the hand.

  I half expect him to pull out a gun and act like a spy, especially after he takes me through the kitchen, to where his limo and driver are waiting in an alleyway.

  Noah turns to go back in, and I notice his hands are shaking, his face red with rage, and I perceive trouble.

  “Don't.” I plead with him.

  “Tinsley let me deal with this,” he replies coldly.

  “Come on, Noah! Let’s just leave!” I say.

  I push him as forcefully as I can towards the waiting limo until he comes with me willingly.

  But, even after we are inside, he tells the driver to circle the restaurant for a bit.

  “Noah, you won't get any satisfaction out of beating Connor to a pulp,” I say, grinning.

  “That's what you think, Tinsley,” he says.

  His hands are no longer shaking.

  “I remember, you said it was a bad idea for us to be together,” I tell him.

  My reminder is a sharp rebuke, but it is still at the forefront of my mind.

  It comes out before I can bite off my words.

  Noah’s handsome face twists in pain.

  “You realize I didn't mean it that way, Tinsley,” he pleads.

  He puts both hands gently on my face.

  He gives me a light kiss.

  I almost have an orgasm, right there in the limo.

  Shaking, I pull away, trying to compose myself.

  “I didn't mean to make you regret anything,” he says.

  “Well how was I supposed to take that?” I reply, flustered.

  I lower my eyes, unable to look at him.

  I feel so stupid and ashamed.

  And so fucking turned on…

  Noah sighs heavily, pressing his lips together.

  “If I admit it was fear that made me say it, will you forgive me?” he asks.

  I have to suck in a deep breath, because I never dreamed I would hear anything like that coming from Noah.

  “How were you afraid?” I ask.

  “It's a long story,” he says, shaking his head. “And, it doesn't matter now. I'm here, Tinsley.”

  He's puts his hands again alongside my face, and when he kisses me I don't protest this time.

  Noah's kiss washes away any memory of the last few hours.

  He was so angry.

  It was incredibly sexy to see him like that!

  Add to that the fact he was ready to go back into that restaurant and beat Connor up to defend me, and I know I am head over heels in love with him.

  But, it never occurred to me that Noah could be right.

  That this could be a real problem.

  9

  Noah

  October 20, 2009

  “Olivia,” I say.

  I move my phone back into my pocket as I see Tinsley's name pop up on the screen.

  “We've been going back and forth, through mediation, forever. Please, whatever you want, take it. Let's move forward
,” I say, trying to remain calm.

  My voice sounds strange, even to my ears; my words spurt out through gritted teeth.

  Olivia's dark hair is twisted into a bun, today.

  We sit at the conference room table, a man and a woman and their lawyers.

  Olivia glances at my pocket, trying to read my mind about what I saw on the phone.

  She makes some noises that imitate sobs, and she pretends to dry her eyes.

  “I can't accept this divorce is happening…” Olivia Winthrop cries.

  “No one trusts you,” her lawyer tells her flatly.

  “We've been going around in circles. Noah only agreed to one last mediation because he doesn't want to go to court. You don't want to go to court. Let's settle the assets and move forward,” he says.

  “What made you do it?” Olivia asks coldly, dropping the tissue, and with it, the pretense of being the heartbroken wife.

  “What does it matter?” I roll my eyes.

  “Can we please stick with the terms of the negotiation?” asks the mediator.

  Her question interrupts our pointless arguing.

  “We've got one last thing to settle here… and that's the Penthouse,” she says.

  “I want it,” Olivia states plainly. “I want it, unless you tell me why you're divorcing me,” she sneers.

  “You've been waiting for this.” I sneer back at her.

  “Darling,” she mocks me.

  “Bitch.”

  “Bastard.”

  “Manipulator.”

  “Man-eater.” Olivia confuses herself.

  I am howling at her having insulted herself, and she looks confused.

  “Shit,” she whispers under her breath.

  The attorneys and the mediator try to remain neutral, but they are all polishing their glasses, or drinking some water, or looking away to hide their amusement.

  Olivia turns red with embarrassment, and tries to pretend-cry again, covering her face.

  “After all those happy years together, that's the best you've got?” I ask.

  I’m still laughing.

  “Tell me Stone! Is Elizabeth back in your life or not!” she demands forcefully.

  “No!” I scream at the top of my lungs.

  “Okay…we’re done here,” says my lawyer, as he packs up his things. “I understand there's not much more to settle here, so maybe we should call it…” he says.

  “Sit the hell down, you,” I glare at him.

  He sits promptly.

  I idly wonder why Wallace recommended him?

  He reaches into his stack of notes, and withdraws a sheaf of papers that have a red paper clip securing them.

  He smoothly removes the clip, and sets it to the side.

  Then, he peers closely at the pages, and sets them down, one by one, in front of Olivia and her attorney.

  He points to the first document.

  “The penthouse was in Mr. Stone's name, even before the marriage,” he says. “Mrs. Winthrop never lived at that residence, so I expect we can strike it from negotiations. We're not considering her other assets as being in play as part of our settlement. We feel she should extend Mr. Stone the same courtesy,” he instructs, now 100% my lawyer.

  He recovered quickly, I note, mentally.

  I guess Wallace was right about him.

  “I want it. Unless he tells me there's another woman,” she says.

  Olivia studies me.

  “Who is she, Noah? I want to learn. I recognize there's someone; this is not my first rodeo. I want the name of who. It's not that I care. I just want to blast her name in every single paper because I can,” Olivia says, the venom dripping from every word she utters.

  “You destroy her? I destroy you.” I reply angrily.

  “Give me the damned Penthouse, or I'll find out and destroy her!” she hisses.

  I think for a moment, peering into her face, her glaring countenance trying to burn me where I sit.

  I decide to try a gambit that sometimes works in the boardrooms.

  “I'll give it to you, and you can sell it back at twice market value. How's that sound?” I ask.

  Olivia backs away, and looks out the window, at the view outside the office building.

  This high up, all we see are the antlike shapes of people going about their business, the cars like toys.

  She sips some water, considering my offer.

  Then, she taps a gloved finger on the papers in front of her.

  “Give me twice the market value of the damn thing, and I'll call it even,” Olivia says.

  “Done,” I reply.

  She stammers for a minute.

  She’s digesting this new bit of information, finally realizing the depth of my commitment to Tinsley.

  I think it actually shocks her, to know that I can care about someone that much.

  In fact, I feel a bit sad, to see her fully realize that she has lost me, forever.

  It wasn’t a terrible marriage.

  Just the wrong people were in it.

  My attorney has turned pale at my suggestion.

  “Noah…” he says, “That's… a lot of money… that's more money than the settlement. You’ve quadrupled what you're obligated to give her.”

  “Doesn't matter,” I tell the lawyer.

  I will do anything to protect Tinsley.

  But, Olivia smirks behind another tissue.

  “You can also keep the diamond, darling,” I tell Olivia.

  “Let's, not have any more ill will towards each other yes?” I plead.

  I remain calm.

  “I'd like to make sure things remain as normal for Corban as possible,” I add.

  My reminder is sharp.

  Again, she’s forgotten about her only son.

  Her features relax.

  She is suddenly remorseful.

  “Oh…” she huffs.

  I can tell this realization of my largesse is not sitting well with her.

  It makes her seem needy, and petty, even if it’s just in the eyes of these witnesses to the dissolution of our married lives.

  She decides to be magnanimous, and act as though it all is worth nothing to her.

  Like I knew she would.

  She wants for nothing.

  Her family is filthy rich.

  This was always about her coming out on top.

  About how much she thought I needed her, and her money.

  She realizes, finally, that I need nothing from her at all.

  “Cut it in half. Just give me the value of the penthouse,” she says. “I realize…” then she stops herself.

  She pauses, gathering her thoughts, and pours a glass of water, removing some pills from her purse.

  “We had a half decent marriage at some point, Noah,” she says.

  She laughs as she takes the glass of whiskey from me.

  “Whoever she is, to make you go through this,” she says gesturing.

  Then she’s swallowing the pills, and takes a huge gulp of the whiskey.

  “You're losing a lot here, Noah,” she says.

  She drains the whiskey, setting it down on the documents in front of her.

  Then, she sips some water, looking at me with an intense, sly look.

  “She's the only woman that could ever convince me to be a better man,” I tell her.

  “Then, I'll be lucky to meet her one day,” she says, smoothly.

  “Olivia,” I say, shaking my head.

  “Don't be too nice; they will think you have a heart,” I chuckle, indicating the attorneys.

  Olivia laughs darkly.

  “My darling, sweet, ex-husband. You and both know I have a heart, it's just black and cold. Withered from time and divorcing the wrong man, once or twice,” she laughs.

  The sound sends a shiver up my spine, but then I look and truly see what has happened.

  As she signs the revisions, her eyes sparkle with bitter tears.

  I've always known her to be in love with Corban's father.
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  Trying to at least be some manner of sympathetic, I slide a box of tissues her way, preparing to add my signature to the documents.

  A few moments later, and we shake hands, and the attorneys excuse themselves.

  Olivia walks up to me.

  She gives me one final peck on my cheek, her hand raising up, and I almost think she is going to slap my face.

  Instead, she strokes it gently.

  “Goodbye, Noah,” she says, quietly.

  “I truly hope she is worth everything that is about to come,” she whispers, looking at my eyes.

  “Goodbye, Olivia. Let me know if there is anything else…” I start to say, but I trail off.

  I have nothing more to give.

  Olivia nods, then turns and walks out of the room.

  The attorneys follow her, and I am left standing in the office.

  Alone.

  I am elated!

  Tinsley and I are finally free.

  There’s only one more thing I must do, and that is tell Tinsley that I am officially divorced.

  I dial her number, and wait for her to answer.

  I plan on meeting her for dinner, share a nice bottle of wine, and then take her someplace to ravish her.

  It’s my time to celebrate the next chapter of my life!

  The phone goes to voicemail, so I leave Tinsley a message to call back.

  But, it’s hours before I get her response, a short text.

  “I can’t tonight. Will call soon.”

  10

  Tinsley

  October 20, 2009

  It takes a while, but Connor finally comes around to apologize.

  Especially since I refuse to take any of his calls.

  He’s an ass.

  When he shows up at my parents’ apartment a few hours before I am due to meet Noah, I answer the door in nothing but my robe, thinking that maybe Noah is early.

  My face automatically falls, as I see Connor standing there with two dozen red roses.

  “You can take those back to where they came from; I’m not interested. My parents aren’t home either, so you can leave.”

  I move to shut the door in his face, my face flushed with anger.

  Connor puts a hand on the door, forcing it open slightly.

  “Tinsley wait, will you hear me out at least?”

  He pokes his head in the doorway.

  I am tempted to push it closed again, but I open the door another crack.