We get home and spread everything out on the coffee table and dig in, eating straight from the cartons rather than using plates. “So, are you looking forward to high tea with my grandmother tomorrow?”
She snorts. “I’m not really a high tea person, but I guess it would be cool to get to know her. And honestly, I have no idea what high tea even is. Is the queen gonna be there?”
“Want a tip?”
Her eyes widen. “Yes, please!”
“Don’t bring up the fact that she’s dying. Don’t bring up her health at all, actually. She really hates it when she feels like she’s being pitied.”
Her mouth drops open. “Of course I wouldn’t bring that up! What kind of person do you think I am?”
I laugh. “I’m not saying you would. I just wanted to warn you in case something comes up.” I shrug and dive back into my food.
My phone rings and I slide it out of my pocket to see my father calling. “Hello?” I answer.
“Matthew, a courier should be there any minute to deliver some important information. I just wanted to make sure you were there to accept the package.”
“What package? What are you sending me?” I ask, still annoyed from the last time we talked.
“You’ll see. Just look it over and call me back. Alone, if you would.”
“All right, Dad. Fine,” I agree, hanging up the phone.
“Everything okay?” Poppy asks, tearing her eyes away from the TV.
“Yes, just more games from my father.” Moments later, the doorbell is ringing and I excuse myself to go answer it. I’m given a thick envelope, at which point I go directly to my office with it. I sit behind my desk and open the envelope. I pull out a big file that probably weighs five pounds.
Rolling my eyes, I open it to see a picture of Poppy on top. I flip through the pages, seeing report cards, past debts, current debts, her bank account information, and a ton of shit about her parents as well: banking information, insurance documents, and debts upon debts upon debts.
I grab my phone and call my dad immediately.
“Hello?” he answers.
“What the fuck is this shit?” I ask, pissed off and annoyed that he’s going to such lengths to ensure I don’t marry Poppy.
“You know exactly what it is. Look at that file and tell me that’s a woman who’s good enough to marry.”
I shake my head and close the file. “This is none of your business.”
“None of my business? You’re my only son. Damn straight, it’s my business.”
“Why? How? I’m not working for you. I’m not living off of you. Hell, I don’t even see you. How is my relationship your business?”
“You think I’m going to leave everything I’ve got to a son who’s marrying a gold digger? That’s all she is, son. With her debt and her parents’ debt, you’ll lose everything. And all my hard work isn’t getting stolen once I’m on my deathbed.”
“Then leave that shit to someone else. I don’t want it. I told you that years ago. And stay the hell away from my fiancée.” I hang up the phone and sit back in my chair, quietly seething.
Twenty-One
Poppy
I don’t know what’s going on, but Matthew has been in his office for nearly an hour. He didn’t even finish eating dinner. I leave everything on the table because I don’t want to put it away if he isn’t done, and I take a shower, thinking he’ll be done with whatever he’s doing by the time I get out. I wash, shave, and dress in my normal long T-shirt and panties. When I step out of my room, his office door is still closed.
Wanting to check to make sure he’s okay, I knock on the door.
“Come in,” he says dejectedly from the other side.
I open the door, stepping in halfway. “I didn’t want to clean up the food if you’re not done.” I motion toward the living room.
He shakes his head slightly. “I completely forgot. I’ve been dealing with my father’s bullshit.”
“Everything okay?” I ask, noticing that the fine lines between and around his eyes are more visible than usual.
He nods and lets out a long, deep breath. “Just . . . my father. I’m always surprised by the lengths he goes to, although I’m not sure why anymore. There’s no hoop too big for him to jump through.”
I nod, not wanting to be pushy or butt into his family business. “Well, I’m pretty tired, so I think I’m just going to go to bed.”
“Come here,” he demands quietly.
As I walk toward his desk, he scoots his chair back and I sit on his lap. He looks deeply into my eyes for a long moment. I begin to wonder what he’s thinking, but then his hand comes up to cup my cheek. Slowly, he leans in, his lips finding mine.
This kiss isn’t like most of our kisses. Usually, when we come together, it’s out of desperation. It’s always fast and hard and rushed. But this kiss is soft and slow—teasing not only my body but my heart and mind too. I get lost in this kiss, in him. I take it deeper, enjoying the feeling of his soft lips on mine—that slight hint of brandy on his breath, and the way his hands feel against my skin. I lift myself up, placing a leg on either side of him so I can face him directly.
Now that we’re face-to-face, with me on his lap, he leans forward, arms wrapping around my waist. His hands fall down to my ass as he gathers my shirt in his hands, finding the exposed skin of my ass beneath it. Everything about this man enthralls me. He captures my attention and never releases it. I’m his prisoner, and I don’t care to ever escape. He is my prison, and his arms are the bars keeping me in place. I’m institutionalized with no hope of surviving on my own.
His lips fall from mine, working their way across my jaw and down my neck. I let my head fall back, exposing more of my throat to him. He peppers my skin with hot, scorching kisses until my shirt cuts him off, then he yanks it above my head and continues with his work, making his way to my breasts.
With his hands on my hips, I lean back until my back is against his desk. This position change gives him better access to my chest. His hands hold tight on my hips, but his mouth is free to kiss, lick, suck, and nibble. He sucks my hard nipple into his hot mouth with so much suction that it’s nearly painful, but it’s delightful, making every muscle tighten in anticipation. I feel a tingle forming in my stomach and know it won’t take much to have me spiraling.
As if he can read my mind, his hand pushes my panties to the side and his fingers dip inside. His fingers move inside me while his thumb massages my sensitive nub. His mouth continues sucking, and before I know it, the mix of pleasure is exactly what I need to come undone. My hands, which are holding on to his shoulders, squeeze tighter, my nails are biting into his skin, and my breathing picks up as the first wave of my release hits me with unrelenting power, enough to drown me. I let out a loud moan that makes his cock stiffen against me, but his mouth and hands work harder, wanting my release.
He pushes me over the edge and I ride out every spiral, every peak, and then the fall. When my moans quiet and my body seems to relax, he pulls his hand away and removes his mouth. In one quick motion, he picks me up against him and carries me into my bedroom across the hall. He kicks the door shut behind us, then drops me onto the bed. I’m completely naked and waiting for him as I watch him undress.
I can’t help but watch him move. He doesn’t look like just any man getting undressed. His every move seems precise and purposeful. His hands make quick work of unbuttoning his shirt. When he pulls it away, his chest and abs are flexed with tension. His hands fall down to his jeans and he unfastens them, his biceps bulging. Finally, he pushes them down his legs and his alert cock springs free, pointing directly at me. He climbs onto the bed and seeks me out. He covers my body with his and his lips find mine again. As he kisses me, he positions himself at my entrance and pushes deep inside. Even though I just got off only moments before, finally becoming one feels like I’ve been starving for him—like all is finally right in the world.
I wrap my arms around his neck and hold him
to me. I want him to be imprisoned too: seeing, living, and breathing nothing but me.
I wake in the morning when my alarm goes off. High tea. Great. I don’t mind going, and I was even excited about getting to know his grandmother, but after last night, there’s only one thing I really want to do: stay with him. Forever. I never want to part. Things felt different last night. It felt like our relationship changed, and I’m afraid the spell will break. I want him by my side always. But that’s completely unreasonable and impossible. We’re two different people with two different lives. We can’t just lock ourselves away together and ignore the rest of the world. I’ll just have to settle with the few hours a day I get with him. I roll over to find the bed empty. He’s already gotten up, but I don’t think much of it as I get up to shower and dress.
I exit my bedroom an hour later, dressed in a cream-colored dress that looks expensive and elegant. I complement it with a conservative pair of nude kitten heels. My hair is pulled back into a neat bun and my makeup is done softly, only bringing out my features rather than adding to them. I look around the house but he’s nowhere to be found. Finally, I approach his office and knock.
“Come in,” he says from the other side, and I open the door and step in.
“What do you think? Will your grandmother approve?” I ask, spinning in a circle.
He smiles as he sits back and drinks me in. “I think she will very much approve,” he agrees, standing up and walking over to me.
He pulls me against his chest and kisses me.
I pull back to study his expression. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Why?”
I shrug, still in his arms. “It’s just you were acting a little off last night after the courier arrived, and today you left me alone in bed. You never do that.”
He nods. “I just had some work that needed my attention if I’m going to be taking a couple days off.”
I frown. “You’re taking some days off?”
He nods. “So are you. I mean, if you’re okay with that.”
“Of course, but why do we need time off?”
“It’s a surprise. I’m taking you away,” he whispers conspiratorially.
I smile. “You are?”
He nods. “I’ll give you a hint.” He leans in and whispers in my ear. “Pack a bathing suit . . . a very small one. We’ll be away from prying eyes for the next week—lost in our own little piece of paradise.”
I smile.
He pulls back. “What do you think? Do you want to come away with me?”
“I’ll go anywhere with you,” I tell him, leaning in and giving him a quick kiss. “But if I’m late for tea, I have a feeling your grandmother might just break my legs . . . and a full leg cast doesn’t pair well with a bikini.”
H releases me and steps back, pulling out his wallet. He hands over a credit card. “After tea, go shopping for some beach clothes: bikinis, sandals, shorts. Given that you live in Chicago, I know you probably don’t have a whole lot of that stuff.”
“I have plenty,” I argue, not wanting to spend his money.
“Well, you never did replace the things that were in that bag I threw out. So go buy yourself a new wardrobe for our trip. And don’t argue. Just do it. And don’t forget your passport,” he says, giving me one last kiss.
I slip the card into my purse and shake my head. “Fine. What time are we leaving?”
“Our flight leaves at 7 p.m. tonight.” He goes back to his desk and I turn and walk out of his office.
I can’t hold back my excitement as I leave the apartment. I wonder where he’s taking me. Why the surprise? Does it have anything to do with his father’s call last night, followed by the hours he spent in his office? I have to admit, last night things got intense with us. It wasn’t like our usual playing and fucking around. Last night seemed serious. Every time he touched my skin, I felt the power behind it. Maybe he’s preparing to let me go. That would explain the intense sex and why he feels the need to take me away. It’s like he’s offering me one more week of pure happiness with him before he ships me back to my rundown apartment. That makes me worry, but if that’s the case, I refuse to let this end badly.
Sure, it didn’t start well, but things have been almost magical between us lately. I won’t ruin it by refusing to say goodbye when it’s time.
I finally make it to the tea room where I’m meeting his grandmother, and I’m shown to a table where she’s already sitting.
“Good morning, dear,” she says as I slide into my seat.
“Good morning. How are you doing?” I ask, lifting a glass of water and taking a sip.
“I’m doing very well. My body has finally adjusted to the new medication, and I feel like I could bench press a truck,” she laughs out and I join in.
“Well, I’m sure you’re wondering why I was so insistent on this meeting.”
I smile.
“After I saw Matthew’s—my Matthew, not yours—reaction to the news of the engagement, I was mortified. How shameful his behavior was.” She shakes her head. “You’d think he would’ve figured out by now that the world doesn’t revolve around him. I’m just glad I did a much better job at raising young Matthew than I did my own son.” She picks up her tea and takes a sip. “I’ve seen Matthew turn from a man who was more like his father into a man I’ve become proud of, and that has everything to do with you, dear. That’s a change only love can make—your love.”
“Oh, I didn’t do anything,” I say, waving her off.
“But you did. You see, before your engagement, Matthew wasn’t the man he is now. He was closed-off, stubborn, selfish. He viewed the world much like his father does. It pained me to see him turning into a bitter, jaded man at such a young age. But now, he’s open, caring, giving, and in love. All of this change was brought on by you accepting his proposal.”
Or by me smashing his car, but same difference, I guess.
“I’m very proud of how you’ve changed him by simply loving him. I see the way he looks at you; he’s never looked at another woman that way. So all this change must be you.”
Is she right? Does he look at me differently than he did before this arrangement started? Does he love me? As I think about that question, I do a comparison in my head. How is he the same? How is he different? By the end, I know she’s right. Last night was completely different than all the times before. And he didn’t talk. Not once. Was he trying to tell me he loved me with actions instead of words? Is this trip meant to be something bigger?
Twenty-Two
Matthew
I have no fucking clue what I’m doing. I’m flying by the seat of my pants, hoping and praying that this works out. After last night, she has to know, right? I’ll admit, I was angry when I saw the file my father had sent over. I was pissed that he would have the nerve to butt into my life like this. I was mad that he went to such great lengths to show me all the dirt he could find on her and her family. But then she knocked on my door and stepped into my office and it was like I finally saw the light. She was beautiful as she stood there with her hair dripping wet—nearly naked. I couldn’t see anything you’d consider inappropriate, but it was just the thought of it lingering just out of reach that kept me going.
The moment our lips touched, I was lost. Honestly, the moment she first walked into my office, I was lost. But this is different. I’m no longer lost alone. I’m lost with her in this world we’ve created and I never want to leave it behind. I will make her mine, and this trip is the first step. Deep down, I think she feels like the man I’ve been lately is an act I’m putting on to make our little lie a little more believable. But that couldn’t be further from the truth. The man I am now is a man who’s finally found his soul mate—the only other person on the planet who was created just for him. The man I am now is happy, in love, and desperately clinging to something that’s not supposed to be permanent. I can only hope to change her mind about me—to make her believe that the man I appear to be now is who I am now and will
forever be. I’ll never go back to living the life she saw before. And that’s all because of her.
I’ve made plans to fly us to Brazil, where we’ll get on a waiting boat so I can take her away to my grandmother’s private island. The house is right on the beach, and behind it is nothing but a vast expanse of rainforest. We’ll have the best of both worlds.
I’ve got my bags packed and I check the inside pocket of my carry-on, finding the small black box my grandmother passed on to me. It contains her engagement ring from my late grandfather. The ring itself cost nearly a million dollars, and up until she met Poppy, she’d always planned to be buried with it. Only now, she sees the love Poppy and I have for each other. She claims that Poppy’s finger is the perfect spot for her ring. I only hope I can get Poppy to agree.
I’ve got it all planned out in my head: a romantic dinner on the porch with the ocean behind us, sun setting, dusk approaching. A delicious meal with good conversation. The two of us all alone, feeling like we’re the last two people on the planet. But I’m nervous. I’m scared that the woman I’ve fallen in love with is only putting on a show—that she doesn’t love me at all. My biggest fear is that she doesn’t love me, but loathes me more than before. It’s out of this fear that I’ve decided to wait until the last night of our vacation to ask her. I couldn’t bear asking her on the first night and having her say “no,” only to be awkwardly stuck together for the rest of the trip.
If she says “yes” and wants to stay longer, we’ll stay as long as she’d like, but I can’t risk losing her before the fun even starts. The ring is where I left it and I get to work on gathering my passport and other needed items. I’m glad our office requires all employees to have a valid passport, otherwise she wouldn’t have been able to get one in time for this trip.
Breaking up with My Boss: An Enemies to Lovers, Office Romance (Love You Forever Book 4) Page 14