by T Gephart
His lips softened as he broke away. “Get what you need to do done, ’cause when I next see you tonight I’m going to need your full attention. We have some lost time to make up for.”
I nodded like an idiot, unable to make my mouth formulate words, because despite being married to the man he still had the ability to render me speechless.
He kissed my lips gently before turning and sauntering to the door. Damn he was so freaking fine, even the way he walked was hot.
“I can feel you staring at my ass Lexi.” He glanced over his shoulder, hesitating at the doorway.
“I thought the whole marriage thing meant I could stare at it any time I wanted? Wasn’t that what that fancy piece of paper was for?” I pouted, wondering how Alex even noticed where my eyes were. Surely so many girls had stared at his arse in the past he would now be immune?
“I’ll get Sol to go over our marriage license and see what legal entitlements you have to my ass. That should be a nice afternoon project for him.” He shot me a quick wink before opening the door and stepping outside to where James and Chris were patiently waiting.
Yep, I was never going to get used to this, to him. Not just because he was Alex Stone, because that shit is so far off the crazy chart that I can’t even comprehend it. I met, fucked, fell in love and married Alex Stone—sexy, alluring, talented, incredibly good looking and smoking hot in bed Power Station guitarist. I lived it and I still can’t believe it happened. But the truly remarkable part was that I was with a man, no matter who he was publicly that loved me, accepted me and I loved him right back.
~~~
“Lexi.” Chris reentered the room and closed the door behind her. She gave me a knowing smile—you didn’t need to be a psychic to know what Alex and I were doing when we were alone—but was polite enough not to say anything as she sat down in her leather chair.
I shook off the stupid grin that was still plastered across my face, and tried to reengage some semblance of professionalism. I knew I was wearing the usual post-Alex expression that made me look like a lovesick fool, and it was harder to compose myself today than it had been in a long time.
“Chris, sorry for the disruption. I have some creative ideas for the announcement of the tour…” I eased myself into the chair beside her.
“Lexi, this isn’t about the tour.” She placed her well-manicured hand on my arm as she eyed me carefully.
“I know you are tired of people asking you how you are doing. I also know you are an incredibly resilient and brave woman who has achieved an amazing amount of success due to personal diligence. But…” Chris words deliberately trailed. It seemed there was always a but so I shouldn’t have been surprised. But I was concerned where this line of conversation was leading because I was one-hundred percent committed to being back at work and I was not going to fall apart.
“Chris, whatever it is you want to say to me, you can feel free to just say it. I know that the band is an investment for you. I know that because of that investment you may be concerned about my ability to perform. I can assure you that I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t confident in my level of proficiency. Yes, Alex is my husband, but I don’t expect a free ride, and I am not going to sabotage the band or my career for vanity.” Despite the words I wasn’t angry or defensive. I wasn’t delusional—this was business.
“Lexi, I think the only one who has called into questioning your ability has been yourself. I’m not sure why you have a chip on your shoulder about proving yourself, but it was evident from the first time I met you that you were driven. I get that, I do, and trust me while the band is an investment for me, I do have a somewhat personal connection to them as well. James took a chance, signing with me. It was their account that made me and in turn landed them their contract, so you see we have both mutual respect and friendship because of our earlier struggles in being nobodies. So it’s more than just money.” She shifted in her chair. I could tell the personal nature of the conversation was making her slightly uncomfortable. After all, we didn’t do emotional girly chats, well not with each other.
“Don’t repeat this because I will deny it, but I care a great deal for them. All of them. Even Dan, god help me. And I’ve grown rather fond of you too. I enjoy your unique perspective, and your work ethic is outstanding. Add to that how happy you make Alex, and I’m instantly your biggest fan. So it’s natural for me to be concerned for your well-being.”
“Please Chris, don’t ask me if I am OK. I am OK. I am really and truly OK.” I watched as my earlier perceived notion of not having to reiterate how well I was coping floated out the figurative window. Where was Just Jared with their groupie whore photo distractions when you needed them?
“I won’t ask, but what I will ask is that you consider something. An alternative therapy if you will. I have heard really good things about it, and a very good friend of mine has given a personal recommendation.”
“Alternative therapy? Please tell me you don’t want me to go to some charlatan? Those weird concoctions they make you drink only provide some strange drug induced hallucination. They don’t actually help you with revelations. I’m also averse to having a witch doctor shake rattlesnake bones at me as well.”
“I’m not talking about voodoo Lexi, though it concerns me that you seem to know about weird concoction-induced hallucinations.”
“I’ve visited New Orleans. Trust me there is more to that place than just Beignets at Café Du Monde.” You’d be amazed where you might find yourself after a few hurricanes on Bourbon Street with the help of a friendly local tour guide.
Chris laughed, her face softened and all traces of her tough exterior evaporated. “Perhaps some day we can discuss at length your adventures in the French Quarter, but I think we’d be hard pressed to find a practitioner here in New York wouldn’t you say?”
“So what are you suggesting? Chinese medicine? Acupuncture? Hypnosis?” I can’t say that any of those alternatives appealed to me. I was barely receptive to traditional medicine.
“No, nothing like that. It’s hard to describe. More a kind of boot camp but different. Like I said, it comes highly recommended and I think you would probably benefit from something like this.” Chris pulled out a post-it note from her folder— clearly she had planned to give me this earlier and had been prepared—and handed me the hand written phone number and name Manny Ortiz.
“Please consider it Lexi. Alex hasn’t said as much, but I know he is worried about you, we all are. Worst case scenario, you call Manny and tell him to go fuck himself, surely it’s been awhile?” A smile teased at the outer corners of her lips.
“I’ll call, no promises though.” It had seemed in the last twenty-four hours there had been a lot of people I needed to call. Damn, I’d almost forgotten about mysterious club owner Nick Cass.
“Well, I guess that wraps things up. I’ll forward any additional information to you via email, and I’m sure we’ll be in touch over the next few days.” Chris raised herself from the chair and adjusted her jacket.
“Yes, I’ll send you a brief by close of business tomorrow. We will start working on it this afternoon.” I too lifted myself from my seat and placed the post-it safely into my folder where I’d make a decision on its fate later.
“Bye Lexi,” Chris nodded as she strode purposefully to the door. With our little heart-to-heart now over, Chris had locked onto some other objective and was making a beeline for whatever it was that required her attention.
“Bye Chris,” I called out to her as she left, unsure if she’d heard my goodbye before she slipped out of the room and into the hallway.
I picked up my handbag and pulled out Nick’s thick embossed card. What could he possibly want? Did I call him or let it go? He’d seemed insistent that we speak so there must be some reason, he didn’t seem like the type of guy that would go to a lot of effort for nothing. I shoved the card back in my bag. Who was I kidding? I had already made up my mind, and now I was just trying to justify the decision. I sighed as I
gathered my belongings and made my way to the door. One way or another I was going to get answers.
Chapter 6
The Offer
I RELAXED into the leather seats of the black Lincoln sedan. The tinted windows blocked out most of the noise from the streets as soft music piped through the sound system. I was aware I should have probably told Alex where I was going or at the very least taken DarNell, but if I wanted to find anything out about Nick then I would have to go without an entourage. It wasn’t like I was in imminent danger. It was the middle of the day and the only person who had threatened me was safely behind bars in Australia, awaiting his trial. I understood the security measures Alex had undertaken, but I found them highly unnecessary.
After my little pow-wow with Chris I had returned to my office. I had tried to focus, but after an hour or two my mind was still resolved on getting answers. Ones that I wouldn’t get from my computer. I discretely called Monique to organise a town car with a driver to take me from my Manhattan office to Nick’s club in Midtown, and I had slipped away without fanfare. Catching a cab was not an option, and the town car driver would wait while I was having my meeting. No matter how curious I was, there was no way I was going in there without a quick exit strategy. Matt and Anna were too busy with the earlier than anticipated tour date announcement to concern themselves with where I could be heading. Hopefully I’d be back before anyone noticed.
The Lincoln purred up to the curb coming to a complete stop in front of Cassidy, the cocktail bar Taylah and I had visited night before.
“Ma’am, this here is a tow-away zone so I will have to circle the block. Just give me a call when you are ready and I’ll collect you.” Steve, the incredibly polite driver informed me. I didn’t even bother dealing with the whole ma’am issue—I loathed being called ma’am—I was just happy that he drove and asked zero questions despite knowing who I was and to whom I was married. Steve had unlatched his seat belt and stepped out of the car before I could tell him not to worry about opening my door. Another thing I was learning to deal with.
“Thank you Steve,” I nodded as I stepped out into the bright mid-afternoon sun. “I’ll give you a call when I am ready to leave.”
Steve closed the rear passenger door and returned to the driver’s seat. He hesitated before climbing back into the car and eased into the flow of traffic.
I walked up the stairs, the velvet ropes noticeably absent, as was the posse of burly security guards. Was anyone even here? I probably should have called. Who just shows up to a club in the middle of the day and expects someone to be there? There was no need to answer that question because the answer of course was standing on the outside of the large ornate black door overthinking. Was I supposed to knock? Just try the damn door Lexi and get your shit together.
I twisted the gold door handle and surprisingly it opened. The heavy door creaked ajar to reveal the colourful and opulent interior. Even in the light of day the club still looked impressive.
I glanced around before stepping in, aware that technically I was trespassing. Not that I was going to let a little fact like that stop me. And it’s not like I had broken in, the door was unlocked.
“Lexi, what a lovely surprise.”
A slow smile played at the corners of Nick’s mouth, his hands firmly planted in his pockets. He looked anything but surprised.
“And you look remarkably different today…Hmm, I can’t quite place it? Is it your hair?”
I rolled my eyes, ignoring his question about my changed appearance. “Were you expecting me?”
“Your call, yes, but seeing you here, well that is something I wasn’t expecting.”
“But, you are standing there like you were waiting for me?” Maybe the man had crazy sensitive hearing, part machine perhaps? With current medical technology I didn’t think it was safe to rule anything out.
“Surveillance cameras.” He replied smugly as he pointed out the discreet spheres that hung from the ceiling. “I have them on the outside as well, strictly for security purposes of course.”
“Of course.”
“So when I noticed a car idling suspiciously outside and a beautiful woman stepped out, it got me interested. And here you are.” He folded his arms across his chest as he relaxed into his stance. While my appearance was an apparent surprise he was obviously enjoying it.
“So why am I here?”
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that? This is my club, you came to me.” He smirked, seeming to be enjoying the verbal volley of meaningless preamble.
“Why did you want to talk to me? Who are you?” I demanded. I hated not having the upper hand and clearly in this situation he had me at a disadvantage.
“Wow, straight for the kill. Can I at least offer you a drink?” He moved toward the bar.
“I’m not thirsty.” I snapped, stopping him in his tracks. “You wanted to talk to me, so talk. I don’t have a lot of time.”
“Not here, my office.” He was curt as his hand gripped my elbow repeating the move from last night.
“Lead the way.” I gently pulled my arm from his grasp. I was pleased at my ability to project confidence, despite feeling its lack. While he was rocking the dangerous vibe, I didn’t feel threatened either. Strangely my instincts told me to trust him. What? Why? I don’t trust strangers. The last thing I needed was to be battling an inner conflict that questioned my own judgement. No, I needed to go with my gut, I was going to be OK.
“This way.” He turned and led me to the rear of the club. It had been last night’s crime scene, where some douchebag had snapped photos of Alex and me in our passionate heated exchange.
Nick gave a cautionary glance before he pressed on the wall. I hadn’t noticed it was a doorway as it was flush against the wall, the recessed door popped open under the pressure of his fingers on the cleverly concealed lever.
I stopped short and watched as he disappeared into the wall, before I followed him.
“I like clean lines in my personal space.” He grinned in what seemed his first genuine smile. Almost like a little boy showing off his shiny new toy, he allowed me to step through before closing the hidden door firmly behind us.
To say his office was immaculate was an understatement. It was pristine and alarmingly stark. While the club just outside the door was an explosion of colour and flair, this room was the complete absence of it. Bare white walls framed the room. The dark mahogany desk loomed in the centre, its only adornment a computer screen. No phone, no files, no papers, no stationery, no printer. There wasn’t even a rogue paperclip laying on its surface. This man elevated OCD to a new level. I wondered how many times a week he was in therapy.
“Sit.” He took a seat in the large leather desk chair while he directed me to one of the plush chairs in front of the desk.
“I’d rather stand.” I spat back defiantly. My curiosity was only going to buy this man so many concessions, and his clipped demands and overbearing arsehole routine was wearing thin. It was no secret I didn’t do too well with being told what to do, in fact my resistance was almost compulsive.
“Always so difficult Lexi.” He smiled approvingly.
“Do I know you?” I narrowed my eyes, his familiarity now overwhelming me.
“Do you think you know me?” He tilted his head, the ghost of his smile playing on his lips.
“I have no time for your cryptic crap. It’s a yes or no answer.” My annoyance was conveyed in my tone.
“Ahhh, but the answer is actually quite complex.” He relaxed in his chair. It amazed me it didn’t even make the slightest of squeaks. It had probably been WD-40’d to an inch of its life. Yep, he had serious issues.
“We have never met but I know you and you know me. And more to the point, you know my brother.”
The smile. The face. The complexion. The self-assurance. There was a reason it had all seemed familiar. I had seen it before. Hell, I’d lived with it. It was so obvious now looking at him, how I had missed it to begin with astounded me. You a
re losing your edge Lex. How could you not have seen this?
“Riccardo? You’re Riccardo’s brother?” I felt my eyes widen in disbelief as the word fuck rattled around in my head.
The Cassius family and I had not shared the greatest of associations. They viewed me as a lower class, gold-digging whore trying to swindle their youngest son, and my summation of them was that they were evil, elitist bastards who had somehow managed to produce an amazingly compassionate man, Riccardo, who was miraculously unaffected despite the silver spoon that had been shoved up his arse.
“The very same. Feel free to sit any time you want.” He mockingly pointed to the chair.
I continued to stand, more to prove a point than anything else. Nick fucking Cass was Nicholas Cassius, the older brother who had already departed from the family nest in Rome to go forge his own destiny and make his fortune by the time I had become Riccardo’s girlfriend. Of course our relationship had started in the usual Lexi manner, sex being the only real need I had required. It had been convenient for both of us and also served Riccardo’s need for rebellion. We’d had fun, we’d laughed, but I had never anticipated that he would actually have feelings for me. Feelings that I guess deep down I suspected, but only recently were confirmed when I saw him again in Rome, because I high-tailed it out of there the minute he suggested getting married. My rationalisation that his marriage proposal had been tendered as a means of keeping me in Rome now seemed idiotic when I thought about it, but back then I hadn’t wanted to allow myself to believe that Riccardo had fallen in love with me. Not every guy would be cool hosting the girl who broke his heart and the guy she was in love with.
“So you want to tell me why you were in disguise last night or was that some intricate sex game for your husband?” He turned in his chair, amused I was still refusing his offer to sit.