“Go right in,” sang Jeanette sweetly, looking me up and down and smiling that red smile. “Mr. Martin’s been held up a bit but he said to go right in.”
I knew what she saw. A drab, frumpy, pudgy girl, one who wore not a scrap of make-up, my hair pulled back from my forehead painfully tight, the curls ruthlessly smooth.
“Thanks,” I said listlessly. I was clearly no competition for the blonde with her perfectly manicured nails, chic updo and tailored clothes. I wish I could say that I wanted to smack the smile off her face but the fight had already gone out of me. I just wanted to be gone from Luxor, from this hateful place.
So I let myself into the spacious office, the door snicking shut behind me, and took a deep breath, one last look around. This would be my last time here with the floor to ceiling windows, the modern Scandinavian deco, the private bathroom off to the side.
I wandered around, trailing my fingers on the blonde furniture, the glass tops, even touching some of the artwork. It would be my last time and I wanted to absorb everything, let it flow into my pores before I went back to my old life in the Bronx, a life of hurried microwave meals, scrimping for quarters, scrambling to pay bills as I attended school and worked full-time.
Except I didn’t have a new job yet. Well, that would come with time. For now, I just wanted to breathe in the luxurious surroundings, envelop myself in opulence once more.
So slowly I drifted, circling the office, breathing deeply. And as I came to Nick’s closet, I noticed it was ajar, his blue blazer hanging, waiting for its owner to reappear. On a whim, I pushed the door open and caught the garment to my nose, inhaling the big man’s distinctive scent, the woodsy masculinity making tears spring to my eyes once again. And as I blinked, trying to get my bearings, I noticed something in the pocket.
Slowly, I reached in and pulled it out. It was a pair of panties, lacy and red, flirty and musky with the scent of female cream.
Except they weren’t mine.
They were someone else’s.
And like a hot potato, I dropped the offending cloth, my cheeks flushing again, my whole body on fire as I realized what I’d just touched.
Oh my god. He’d been with another woman recently and I had the evidence right here. If seeing Jeanette leave his apartment last night hadn’t been enough, then this was iron-clad proof that Nick was a manwhore, that he was sleeping around with multiple women, secreting their panties away in all sorts of nooks and crannies, keeping them as souvenirs.
And I thought back to our first time together. What had happened to my panties then? Hadn’t he slipped them into his pocket? This was some kind of sick hobby for him, like notches on his bedpost or a hunter collecting skulls, evidence of his conquests, some type of disgusting ritual that pumped up his testosterone. I literally felt sick to my stomach, bending over with nausea.
Except that Nick entered the office at that moment, when I was least prepared, my emotions on high. And I launched myself at him, kicking, screaming, my small fists flying at his face, his shoulders, his chest, anywhere I could reach.
“How could you?” I screamed. “How the fuck could you? You’re such a fucking asshole, fucking women right and left.”
He held me off, my aggression no match for his superior weight and power.
“What the fuck?” he growled. “Tammy, get a hold of yourself.”
But I couldn’t be stopped, I was too angry.
“Look at that shit on the floor,” I screeched. “What the fuck is that?”
And Nick’s eyes dropped for a moment, bewildered when they saw the crumpled fabric.
“Baby,” he said, shaking his head perplexed, “aren’t those yours?”
And that only made my temperature zoom, turning me into Mount Vesuvius.
“What the fuck, can’t keep your women straight? No, those aren’t my panties, those belong to another one of your sluts!” I shrieked, practically spitting now, tears rolling down my cheeks. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
But Nick just shook his head again, his big body still holding me off.
“Baby, I haven’t been with anyone but you,” he growled. “Listen to me, listen to me,” he shook my shoulders. “There’s been no one but you.”
But I was in no mood for compromise. With two pieces of evidence pointing to his cheating ways, I only screamed louder and kicked harder, this time landing a good one on his shin.
“Oww,” he roared, gripping his leg, letting go for a moment. And that was enough for me to scramble free. I snatched up my purse and dashed out of the office, my face flaming, tears streaming as my breath came in pants and sobs. I wish I could say that no one witnessed it, that I was all alone in my pain, but of course Jeanette saw it all.
“Bye now,” she called after me silkily, her voice pure poison. “We’ll deliver your things to you.”
And I sobbed even harder on the elevator down. Because I was well and done for, I’d gotten lost in a fairytale thinking that Nick loved me, that we were actually something, that I was someone special to the billionaire. But I’d been dead wrong. It’d been nothing but a pipe dream, the hallucinations of a virgin in her first physical relationship, and I’d gotten carried away. I was nothing, and I deserved no one.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Nick
What the fuck had just happened? Just yesterday Tammy had been willing and compliant, bending over my desk naked, flirting with me over her shoulder as she fucked herself with a dildo. Because she was wicked like that, the little virgin had completely broken through every last barrier, every last shred of modesty, showing herself to me, baring her cunt, letting me taste it, trash it, pound her into the wall, the bed, if that’s what I wanted.
And I wanted it a lot. We’d been going at it day in, day out, and most nights too. I’d looked forward to her visit last night but when she didn’t show, I didn’t call either. I figured the little girl was tired, I’d pounded her for hours the night before and she needed a bit of rest, needed to let that curvy body relax and recuperate before our next hot session.
But when I walked into my office not twelve hours later, the woman flew at me like a banshee, accusing me of all sorts of shit. Now I admit, I’m no angel. I’ve banged a lot of women, I’m familiar with females and don’t hesitate to take the prettiest of the bunch, avail myself of a big heap of tasty twat and ass. But I hadn’t been with anyone since Tammy, in fact I hadn’t even thought of anyone since the brunette came into my life.
Because Tammy was astonishingly receptive, curvaceous, curious and intelligent. She was everything I needed. Everything, and I had the ring in my pocket to make it permanent. Oh yeah, it was a whopper, seven carats bought with seven figures, and I wanted to look into her eyes as I slid it onto her finger on bended knee, kiss her as a smile lit up her face.
Except the opposite had happened. Instead, the brunette had launched herself at me like a crazed hyena, screaming, crying, accusing me of all sorts of shit. And yeah, there was the underwear on the floor but I swear, I have no idea where it came from. Honestly, I thought it was hers, she was the only one I’d touched recently, the only woman whose panties I’d want to smell, wrap around my pole, spurt my jizz into. So I’d genuinely thought they belonged to my beautiful girl.
But as I picked them up from the floor of my office, everything became clear. Instead of the clean, musky scent of Tammy’s pussy, a cloying island tropical odor emanated from the lace, making me choke and cough, it was so disgustingly sugary.
“Jeanette!” I roared, anger mottling my face, my big frame tense with repressed rage.
And when the blonde waltzed in, I didn’t hold back.
“Get out and take your shit with you,” I raged, throwing the underwear at her. It landed on her head, perched crazily on her updo, making her look like an inmate from an insane asylum.
“You can’t fire me,” she smiled lazily. “I still have my insurance, remember? The lace bodystocking with your saliva on it.”
But I’d had eno
ugh.
“Try it, bitch,” I growled, my hands opening and closing into fists at my side, I wanted to throttle her so badly. “Try it.”
“Are you threatening me?” she replied, mock scared, her face a caricature of fear. “Oh, the big man is threatening me, this is grounds for a lawsuit too.”
And I didn’t even say anything. Instead, I physically picked her up and dumped her outside my office, not caring who saw, leaving the blonde in a jumble on the floor, slamming my door in her face. I could hear her still even through the thick wood, chanting “Lawsuit, lawsuit, sexual harassment!”
But it was time to stick to my guns. Because I’d spent the last year gathering evidence of her conniving ways, my lawyers talking with past victims, slowly building a case painting Jeanette as the amoral, scheming slut she was. And finally we were done, we had enough to make it open and shut, no way no how was any jury going to believe that blonde bitch.
So still shaking with rage, I got on the phone.
“Harris?” I growled. “Sue the bitch.”
Because we weren’t fucking around. No way were we going to sit on our asses trembling with fear as Jeanette took the reins. Instead, we were striking pre-emptively and lodging our own complaint first. That’s right, Nick Martin and Luxor Corp. were suing Jeanette Crawford for blackmail, extortion, as well as a host of other shit. My attorney was walking to the courthouse even now, the papers in his briefcase. Shock and awe tactics is what I call it, strike first and scare them so bad that they become rabbits, scurrying back into their tunnel, begging for mercy. Because who do you think’s going to win? Nick Martin and Luxor, with billions at our fingertips and an iron-clad case, that’s who.
So I smiled grimly, my work done for the moment.
Except that still left the question of my best girl and the ring burning a hole in my pocket. I hurt, I really did from the false accusations. Tammy hadn’t given me a chance to explain anything, to clear things up, to even talk. So slowly, I got out the diamond and put it on my desk. I needed to think about things more, process the incredible events of the day before I went after my little girl … for keeps.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Tammy
I huddled in the cold of my apartment. Despite the fact that it was only fall in New York, the Bronx apartment had no heating or hot water and I wasn’t surprised that the hovel was freezing inside.
Because I’ve come back to my roots. After fleeing Luxor, I caught a cab to my old building, pleading with the manager to rent me my old apartment.
“Please Luther,” I begged. “I know you haven’t found a new person yet and I really need a place to stay.”
“I dunno,” he hedged, his wifebeater dirty and stained, gripping a protruding stomach. “You broke the lease last time and we were out a pretty penny.”
I gasped, knowing that wasn’t true.
“Luther,” I said firmly, “I know Luxor Corp. paid a fine on my behalf and the building was more than compensated for the broken lease. Now please!” I begged again.
And Luther relented, but not before jacking up my previous rent by a thousand dollars, with two months prepaid in cash. So I’d practically emptied my bank account and forked over the money, only to drag myself up the rickety stairs and sit silently on the bare floor of my old apartment, huddled against the cold.
With stiff fingers, I dialed my only friend.
“Pink Cherry,” she chirped. “This is Marie, how can I help you?”
“Marie,” I sobbed, “I’ve completely fucked up.”
And some rustling sounded over the line, some fumbling before Marie’s voice came back on.
“Oh my god, are you okay?” she asked, “Sorry, I had to go into the back office, it’s fucking dark in here, who left this shit here?”
I heard something clatter to the floor and smiled through my tears. Trust Marie to come through for me even though I hadn’t talked to her in ages.
“I’m sorry I haven’t reached out,” I said weakly. “It’s just everything changed so much so fast and I got lost in the whirlwind.
“No, no, it’s fine, don’t worry,” reassured Marie. “Besides I’ve been busy with law school and working at the Pink simultaneously. You still going to school too?”
And I paused for a moment, ashamed.
“I dropped out,” I said in a tiny voice, feeling about two inches tall. “I got so caught up with Nick and Luxor and my new life that I let it slide.”
A slow, contemplative silence for a moment before Marie spoke again.
“Oh honey,” she said. “I’m so sorry to hear that. You know that you still have to lead your own life, you can’t pin everything on a man, it’s just a recipe for disaster. Did you stop going to classes altogether?”
And I choked a little.
“Yes,” I admitted. “I didn’t mean to at first!” I protested. “I wanted to keep working during the day and go to classes at night but you know my boss moved me into his building and I was going over to his place late at night,” I said, ashamed.
Marie just clucked again.
“Trust me honey, I can guess. A guy comes along and sweeps you off your feet, puts you up in a swanky place, it feels like it’s going to last forever right? But the thing is that Cinderella’s coach always turns back into a pumpkin, it’s just a question of when.”
And the bitterness in my throat was so sour that I almost choked, unable to say anything. But Marie stepped in again.
“Don’t worry about it,” she said kindly. “You can always pick yourself up, you’re not dead. Where are you now?”
“At my old place,” I whispered, still huddled on the floor of the bare apartment.
“That dump?” she said, her voice wry. “That place that has the mice and cockroaches?”
I surveyed the floor in front of me. Thank god, nothing was skittering around at the moment, just a loose cupboard door dangling sadly, waving slightly in the cold air.
“No, no rodents or insects right now,” I said dully, the energy seeping out of me once more.
And I could almost hear the blonde shaking her head in pity.
“Honey, why don’t you come down to the Pink Cherry and we’ll chat?” she said. “It’s cozy here, we have comfy sofas, and I just got a new stash of some awesome Ceylon tea. We’ll have a cup and you’ll feel better,” she said persuasively.
I checked my metro ticket. Yep, just enough for two rides, one down and one back. I felt exhausted, and sipping some tea with a friend while letting my weary bones relax would be just the thing.
“Thanks,” I said quietly. “I’ll be there in about forty-five, leaving now.”
And scrambling to my feet, I hugged myself in the cold of the apartment. Another chilly stream of air seeped in through the window and I shivered all the way down to my bones, my hands ice cold, my body shaking with uncontrollable tremors. The thing is, I didn’t know if the tremors were from the freeze … or from missing Nick, my life, my love.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Tammy
The chimes rang softly as I let myself into the Pink Cherry. It’d been so long since I’d been to the shop but it was just as I remembered. The space was brightly lit with cheery signs that read, “His Stuff,” “Her Stuff,” and “Extreme Restraints,” among other helpful tidbits. Yep, everything was just as I remembered.
I caught a glimpse of Marie helping a customer and waved discreetly to her before making my way to the counter, sitting perched on a stool. My friend came bustling over soon, giving me a big hug.
“Oof, must be cold outside,” she said with a smile. “You feel like a popsicle.”
I gave her a wan smile back.
“Yeah, it’s freezing, I didn’t have time to get my winter jacket.”
The truth was my winter jacket was still at The Meridien, waiting to be shipped to my new digs. Cringing, my heart crumpled slightly again, the coat a reminder of what had once been.
“So get me up to speed,” chattered my blonde friend, pouring
two steaming cups of tea. “What’s new?”
Taking a grateful sip, I began slowly.
“Well, you know that my boss, Nick Martin, moved me into his apartment building,” I said.
Marie snorted.
“He should! The way he was banging you at work, he owed you big time.”
I just shook my head slowly.
“It’s not whether Nick should or shouldn’t have, it’s just that I thought I was the only one,” I explained in a quiet voice. “I thought I was special to him when actually I was just one girl among many.”
And Marie gasped.
“What do you mean?” she asked. “He was banging other chicks?” she asked, her eyes wide.
I nodded slowly, my cheeks flushing.
“Nick Martin is a manwhore,” I said bitterly. “He plays with women, gets them to love him, but he’s actually playing a couple violins at once. Get it? He’s strumming several instruments simultaneously, making us all think we’re the only ones, that we’re special.”
Marie was silent again.
“What, did they all live on the same floor as you guys?” she asked. “Was the Meridien like some kind of whore hotel?”
And I paused, thinking.
“No, only Nick and I had apartments on that floor, but then again, there are only two apartments per floor. The other women probably lived nearby,” I said, my face crumpling.
Marie sipped her tea slowly, thoughtful.
“Okay, that could be true,” she granted. “But did you ever see any other women?” she pressed.
“No,” I admitted, “but I have other proof.”
And that’s when I launched into a monologue, my throat clutching as I recounted last night’s events.
“I went by his apartment a little early yesterday evening and heard all these moans and shudders, all these “Oh Nicks!”” I choked, feeling nauseated again. “And then this bitch Jeanette came waltzing out, her hair all messed-up and her clothes on wrong. I know he was fucking her,” I said frozenly, reeling with hurt.
The Billionaire's Kitten: A Fake Marriage Romance Page 25