by kj lewis
“You’re Magnus Harrison Forrester?” I choke.
He nods.
“Emelia?” I hear muffled concern next to me.
I race from the conference room. Please let me make it, please let me make it. I burst into the bathroom in my office, getting there just in time to throw the contents of my stomach into the toilet.
“Jesus.” Graham is next to me, kicking the door closed as his arms wrap around me supporting me against the attack my stomach is putting my body through. After a few violent minutes, I flush the toilet and rest my head against my arm.
“Are you okay?” Graham asks. He’s answered by another wave of vomiting. Dry heaves rack my body as I sit there for long minutes, trying to will my stomach into submission. Graham puts a wet cloth to my neck and rubs a soothing pattern over my back.
“Help me up?” I reach a hand out to him. He lifts me to a standing position, supporting me. I move to the sink to brush my teeth, but I have to rest my exhausted body on my elbows to do it.
“Think you can make it out to the couch?” I nod.
Graham opens the door. Ben is waiting for me, concerned like a father would be for his daughter. Standing next to him is Harry.
My father.
“Are you ok?” Ben touches my forehead to check for a fever.
“I’m okay.”
I look at Harry. He has Addie’s eyes. I take as deep a breath as I can, sliding my hand into Graham’s, squeezing it for courage.
“Laura James was my mother.” I watch Harry’s face and its stunned confirmation.
“My name is Emelia Magnus James. My sister’s Addison Harrison James. We were named after our father.” I remove the watch from my wrist.
“I believe this belongs to you.”
He looks from the watch to me as the men around me try to put the pieces together.
“How old are you?” he asks.
“Almost 26.”
He stands there mirroring the same shock I’m feeling.
“Excuse me,” I say, stepping around them, leaving my office. Within seconds Graham is beside me. He inserts his card into the private elevator and ushers me in.
“Smith, we’re coming down.” He hits a couple more buttons and puts the phone back to his ear. “George, cancel my afternoon. Yes. All of it.” He hangs up. His arm circles my waist. My eyes never leave the door in front of me.
The elevator opens to the garage and Graham guides me to an idling SUV. Smith has the door open and ready. He looks concerned for me. I must look bad.
The only thing I’m aware of is Graham holding my hand in the car. It’s not until we pull into a gated courtyard that I realize Smith didn’t take me home.
“I’d like to go home,” I protest, but there’s no real feeling behind my words.
“We’re here.” He ignores my request, pulling me from the car to a waiting elevator. Where are we? I should have paid attention on the way here. Graham hits a code that sets the elevator in motion. I’m vaguely aware that the elevator opens directly into an apartment. Other than it being large, I don’t really register anything. I think I’m in shock.
Graham has me moving through the rooms until we are in his bedroom. He closes the door and stands in front of me. I think he’s waiting for me to have a breakdown. When he sees I’m not going to, he undresses me, pulling my stockings off and removing my bustier.
“Arms up.” He slides a t-shirt over me. “In you go,” he says pulling back the covers of his massive bed. I climb in and lay my head on the pillow while Graham lowers the shades. I’m close to drifting off when Graham climbs in behind me.
“I’ve got you,” he whispers into my ear as I fall into a fitful sleep wrapped in his arms.
His head is lying on my waist. When I move, Bruiser opens his big eyes and gives me a pitiful look. Even he can tell something’s up with me. I scratch him behind his ears in gratitude as voices drift in from the other room.
“She’s mine to take care of, Jules.”
“She was mine long before she was yours, Graham. You can’t stop me from being here for her.”
“Just let her rest.” I hear him trying to placate her through the door. I know it won’t do any good. If the roles were reversed, there is no way Adam could stop me from seeing her.
“Graham, I know Mags. She’s not going to talk for a while. She’ll put this in a compartment and hold it there until she’s ready.”
“I know her, Jules. I know what she needs.” I hear the patience leaving him the more she pushes. I open a couple of dresser drawers before I finally find a pair of boxers and pull them on. Opening the door, I head in the direction of my best friend rising to her cause.
“I’m here. No one’s keeping you from me, I promise.” Jules hurries to me checking me over. I wink at Graham over her shoulder, hoping to soften the look of frustration on his face, and Adam, who has smartly stayed out of the fight, gives me a kind smile.
“Mags. I… it’s just so hard to believe. I can’t believe your father has been here in the city the entire time. Are you okay? That’s such a silly question. Of course you’re not okay.” She moves us over to the couch.
For the first time, I get a look at Graham’s apartment. I have wondered several times what it must be like. Its massive windows offer north, south, and west views. The bedroom faces east giving the penthouse 360-degrees of spectacular views.
There is a freestanding fireplace that is accessible to both the main sitting area and a cozier one on the right that Jules leads us to. There are soft animal skin rugs underneath the couches and chairs. This section is bordered by floor to ceiling windows with views of the Hudson.
Graham sits beside me, pulling me to him. I bring my knees to my chest and lean into him.
“Who knows?” I ask Graham.
“Word is out. The dwarfs have all called. Jackson came by earlier. And, well, you see Jules is here. She wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer,” he grumbles. Jules ignores his disdain.
“What time is it?”
“Eight. You hungry, baby?” he asks gently.
I shake my head in response.
Adam and Jules sit across from us. No one really knows what to say, but it’s not an awkward silence.
“Do we know how Harry is? Is he okay?” I ask Graham. “I shouldn’t have run out on him like I did.”
“Let me get this straight,” Jules’ voice harshens. “You’re concerned about him? Harry?”
“Of course. I behaved terribly. I ran and I never run.”
“You protected yourself, and for that you have nothing to apologize for,” Graham says.
I move to the edge of the couch. “I better get going. I have to go home to get something to wear.”
I can tell he’s confused and starts to say something, but he’s cut off by Jules.
“I brought a change of clothes for you, so you wouldn’t have to go home.”
“Do you mind if I get ready here?” I ask Graham.
“No. Not sure why you have to get ready, though. You’re already dressed for bed.”
“We’re going out.”
“Who is?” Graham and Adam ask together.
“I told you,” Jules responds, “we’re taking Mags out to celebrate the mentor program and to toast the time she is going to be out of the office. Amanda and Joy are meeting us. We’re going dancing.”
“Emelia’s not.”
“Yes I am.”
“No you’re not.”
“Graham.”
“Emelia.”
He takes a deep breath and decides to take a different approach. “With the day you’ve had, I think it would be better for you to stay in tonight.”
“The girls are expecting me. Besides dancing and hanging with my girls will do me some good.” I don’t want to fight with him, but I can’t sit here and think about it all night. It will make me crazy.
“Fine.” It’s all he says, but it’s a pout.
“Let’s eat a bite first, then.” Jules gesture
s to the kitchen, and I follow her lead. It’s dark outside now, and the view is made even more beautiful by the lights that twinkle around us.
“Mrs. Vincent has spaghetti on the stove already,” Graham says.
“Great. You boys get the wine and set the table and I’ll get the food. Mags, you chill.”
They set about getting our dinner pulled together. Adele plays in the background. The entire back wall facing the Hudson has accordion doors that make a seamless transition from the inside to the outside. There must be at least 2500 square feet of outdoor space.
I walk out onto the plank cedar deck that wraps around on each side of the apartment. I lean back on a chaise and listen to the city that never sleeps. What it must be like to come home to this every day. Why would anyone ever leave this place?
“Dinner’s ready,” Graham whispers in my ear and kisses my temple. “You were almost asleep. Why don’t you just stay in?” he asks concerned. He knows I’m going out so I won’t have to process the events that just took place.
“The girls have been planning this for a while. It’ll be fun. I’ll be fine.” I accept his proffered hand. He wraps a sweater around me.
“My family is here,” he says apologetically and with a hint of frustration.
“Emme,” Ruth pulls me into her arms.
“When did y’all get here?”
“We came earlier—as soon as we heard. You were resting, so we ran an errand and just got back.” Explains Bruiser being here. “We wanted to be here for you.”
“That’s so kind Ruth, but really, I’m okay.”
The outdoor table has been set for dinner. When I take my seat, Graham sets a Diet Coke on the table in front of me, and for the first time since the incident, I chuckle. He lightly runs the back of his hand along my jawline. My nipples harden at his touch, and I pull his sweater tighter around me.
Jules has fixed me a plate, but I can’t bring myself to eat. I move my food around in hopes it won’t be so obvious.
“I fired three of your guys from the Procurement department today,” Adam tells Graham taking a bite of bread.
“You did? Who and why?”
“Thomas, Oteri, and Jacobs.”
“There’s nothing in their files. Did you run it by HR first? Did they screw something up?” Ben asks confused.
“I caught them giving Reggie and Mags a difficult time at lunch. So I fired them.” He twirls spaghetti around his fork.
Graham glares at me. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t know their names and that was a bit of an overreaction, Adam, don’t you think?”
“No, I don’t think so.” He looks from me to Graham.
“What happened?” Graham asks me directly, then looks back to Adam when I don’t answer.
“According to Reggie, they harassed him about the intern program, and when Mags walked up, Oteri called her a piece of ass and said she could suck his dick.”
“Language,” I say, pointing to Lucy.
“This was at lunch. Before you and I had our meeting.” It’s an accusation, not a question. I can tell Graham is not happy, but he’s trying to reign it in since his family is here.
“Better you released them without me knowing.” A vein is bulging from his forehead. He stabs the food on his plate.
“So, I brought you a really cute dress.” Jules gratefully changes the subject.
“Is it a swing dress? Because there’s no way I can wear your clothes.”
“I have clothes for you here if it doesn’t fit,” Graham says casually.
I do a double take. He continues eating like it’s no big deal.
“What clothes?”
“I had Jackson style a wardrobe for you, so you would have clothes here. They’re in the closet. Plus, I figured you might need some work clothes, since you won’t have access to the closet at work while you’re off.” He twirls a fork of noodles against a spoon.
“Jackson doesn’t care if I use the closet. I don’t want you to spend money on me. And you do know that I have a few clothes of my own.”
“I’ve been in your closet, remember? It appeared to be mostly causal. I want you to have what you need.”
“I do, baby. But Jackson doesn’t style a closet for less than a hundred grand. There’s no way I’m letting you spend that kind of money.”
“Emelia, it’s done. I’ve already approved the looks. He sent Joy and Henry over earlier this week to organize it all. It’s done. It’s not going back.” He gives me an unwavering look.
I don’t push it since I know he has given other concessions tonight, but the discussion isn’t over. I make a mental note to pick a bone with Jackson. He knew at breakfast that he had already done the closet.
“So, is it ok if I ask some questions?” Lucy asks me.
“Lucy, why don’t we let her have a little while to acclimate?” Graham says as lovingly as he can to his little sister. I place my hand on his thigh.
“It’s okay to ask, Lucy, but honestly, I don’t have any answers. I didn’t handle it very well. I won’t really know anything until I talk to him.”
“I’ve always been fond of Harry and Eloise. I just don’t understand how he doesn’t take responsibility for his children?” Ruth says. She seems genuinely curious, rather than judgmental.
“He didn’t know,” I say softly.
“Aren’t you letting him off a little easy Mags?” Jules asks.
I shake my head. “You didn’t see him. I’m telling you, until today he had no idea I existed. I mean I thought the man was dead for goodness sakes. I never even knew his last name.”
I can feel my resolve slipping. Standing, I pick up my plate to carry to the kitchen.
“If you all don’t mind, I think I’ll take a shower before we go out.”
“You didn’t eat anything,” Adam points out.
“I will. I had a late lunch.” Something Adam knows is not true.
After setting my dishes in the sink, I find my way to Graham’s bathroom. It’s huge, of course. The shower alone is the size of a small room. It has a media center built into it with a TV, a stereo system, and a phone. It takes me a minute to understand how to turn on the water. I finally find a pad built into the wall next to the media center. It lights up when I touch it. There’s a touch button for water that allows me to adjust the temperature, the pressure, and the jets. I turn them all on. I just want to be surrounded by warmth for a few minutes.
I don’t have music playing, my standard M.O. for a shower. I just want the peace of listening to the water rain down from the ceiling. I know he’s there before I feel his touch to my shoulders. Turning me to him, he pulls me against him and holds me under the waterfall. Graham is a fixer. It’s who he is. What he does. Right now, I’m grateful that he’s not trying to fix anything. Granted, he might be fixing things behind the scenes, but for now, he just comforts me and allows me the time to work through this on my own. It’s a sacrifice on his part.
I raise my lips to his, the water cascading over my face. He gently kisses me. I can tell he’s holding back.
“Graham, I need—”
He lifts me up, and I wrap my legs around his waist. He deepens the kiss as he lays me down on a bench. Graham positions himself over me, diverting the water from my face. He enters a finger into me and finds me ready for him.
“Sweetheart.” He enters me. My toes curl and my back bows off the bench. He raises onto his arms and pushes all the way into me. The water cleanses both of us. Slowly and skillfully, he makes love to me, the connection between us stronger than ever.
“Let go, Emelia,” he commands, feeling my passage tighten around him. I look down at our bodies and see him sliding in and out of me. The sight of us fusing together sends me over the edge and Graham follows, barely holding onto his pleasure as he waits for me to take mine. His arms give way and he collapses on top of me.
When we finally compose ourselves, we wash each other—something that has become a familiar routin
e, even in the short time we’ve been together.
“I can’t imagine what Harry must be thinking. I know I shouldn’t have sprung it on him like that, but it was just a shock, I didn’t really think it through.”
“I’m more concerned with what you’re feeling.” Graham observes me.
“I don’t know what I’m feeling. I’m numb.”
“That’s understandable.”
“Not for me it’s not. I don’t usually need time to know where I stand with something. I usually know and I usually have a feeling I can attach to it. This…I don’t know what I feel. It’s unsettling.”
“You will, baby. You’re just in shock still. It’s natural. Cut yourself some slack.” He kisses me lightly. “You sure I can’t talk you into staying?”
“No. The girls are expecting me. Tell you what,” I offer an amends. “How about I come back here afterwards?”
“Where did you think you were going?”
“My place.”
“Absolutely not. I’ve been without you too long. There’s no way I’m going another night. Text the dwarfs and let them know you’ll be here through the weekend.”
“I don’t know about that. But tonight I’ll be here.” I kiss him and climb out of the shower.
His closet is accessible from the bathroom and the bedroom. It’s dark wood and is meticulously kept. I run my fingers over his suits while I stand naked in his closet with a towel wrapped around my head. Lifting one of them to my nose, I inhale deeply, absorbing Graham’s scent.
“Who does your closet?” I ask when he walks in.
“Bergdorf’s. I tell them what I like and they get it for me.”
“This and this is a no.” I pull a suit and a sweater from his pile and examine the rest of the items. “Other than that, they’ve done a good job.” I pull three more ties and place them in the “no” pile.
“Not everyone has an A-List stylist,” he teases.
“You don’t need one. You have me,” I wink at him.
“I was referring to you, babe.”
I smile as I twirl one of his ties—approved, of course—around my neck like a scarf.
“Every time I see you in something of mine, I want to fuck you on the spot. But seeing as how you need more than just my clothes, I asked Jackson for a favor.” He takes my hand and lures me around the corner where there’s a whole other section of his closet. It’s bright with white cabinetry and white carpeting, and it’s filled with more clothes than we have in the closet at work. There’s no way I could wear all of this in one season.