by JA Huss
“We will? Jesus, I must’ve slept for a long time.”
“We’ve only been in the air for about twenty minutes.”
“What? Then why are we landing?”
“We’re only going to San Diego.” He shoots me a puzzled look.
“What? No, I’m supposed to go home! To Rhode Island!”
“Mr. Delaney came by just before you did and told us to bring you to San Diego. He said you have a second interview.”
“He did?”
Jerry cocks his head and gives me a funny look. “You didn’t?”
“I… I don’t know. We had an unexpected end to our morning. Claudette—”
“Don’t say the demon’s name,” Jerry says, rolling his eyes. “I completely understand. She’s horrible, right?”
“Right?” I ask back, smiling now that I have a friend. “I hate her. She’s a liar too.”
“Don’t get me started, Miss Rockwell. But hurry now. Use the facilities and come up front so you can buckle in. We’ll be landing in a few minutes.”
I do as I’m told and quickly make my way to the front where I buckle in to a plush leather seat just as the pilot announces our final descent.
The landing is smooth and easy, and my stomach starts fluttering when I suddenly realize what’s happening.
Nolan didn’t walk out on me this morning.
He brought me here to San Diego against Claudette’s wishes to see him.
It’s all I can do to hold still as we taxi, and then I have to wait until the stairs are pushed up to the jet and the door is opened. I say a quick, “Thanks,” to Jerry and rush out.
There he is. About a hundred yards away, leaning casually on a silver Porsche with his arms folded across his chest. I don’t know what this about at all. But the only way to find out is to walk over to him.
I take a deep breath and one step at a time, I get closer. Even in his casual, grungy clothes, he is beautiful. I realize how tan his skin is in the bright morning sun. How muscular his arms are. When I get up close enough to talk without shouting, I realize he’s trying very hard not to smile.
“What are we doing?”
He shrugs and unleashes the grin, flipping his sunglasses up onto his head. “I told you, Miss Rockwell, if you let me fuck you last night I’d hire you and get your expertise this morning.”
“But Claudette—”
“Fuck Claudette. She has my best interests in mind, but she’s not my mother. I don’t answer to Claudette, or anyone else, for that matter. So if I want to have sex with you and hire you the next day, I will.”
I sigh in frustration.
“And if I want to have sex with you and then get to know you better, then I’ll do that too.”
“What?”
His smile fades. “But it was a dick move, Ivy. Not telling me you were a virgin.”
“I get it,” I say. “You don’t trust women, do you? Not after what happened to you in college.”
“Not much, no. But I don’t think you lied about the résumé, did you?”
“I didn’t,” I say. “I swear.”
“I think Mr. Corporate did it.”
“Why is he doing this though?”
Nolan shrugs. “He had to have seen you somewhere. And I guess he just thought I’d be interested in this.” He waves a hand down my body. “And I am, Ivy.”
“OK, wait. My turn. I actually did think… maybe… you’d take a liking to me and relieve me of my v-card while I was here. I mean, I did know I was not really qualified to get that job. But I came anyway. Because of you. I came because of you, Nolan.”
“I did make you come.” He winks. “Didn’t I?”
The laugh escapes my mouth and I have to shake my head. “Yes. Yes. You did.”
“But I was rough too, wasn’t I?”
I swallow a little and nod. I feel a lot better than I did this morning. I guess I was overreacting about the ‘never having sex again’ thing. I’m not damaged. I’m still sore, but it’s fading. I’m actually sorry it’s fading. I liked being reminded of Nolan’s cock inside me. “It was still fun. It was just a little bit scary too.” I blush like mad.
“I can do it better, Ivy. I mean—” It’s his turn to laugh. “I mean, better for a girl who needs it soft. I loved every fucking minute of last night. And I don’t know who’s running the blow job classes, but you get an A, woman. It was amazing.”
“Some porn star on PornTube was giving lessons.”
“Ah,” Nolan says, placing his hands on my hips and pulling me up to him. “You like porn? What would your father say about that?”
“He would die of embarrassment. And if he ever met you, he’d probably lock me up in the basement.”
“Well, I’m actually a nice guy, Ivy. So I’ll deal with him later.”
I can’t imagine what is going through his head right now. We’re talking about him meeting my father? “Who are you and what did you do with Nolan?”
“What?” He laughs. “I grew up in boarding school too, Ivy. I know the drill. And I’d just like you to know if I want to, I can pass inspection. But forget that for now. I’m fucking hungry and Claudette came storming in and messed up all my breakfast plans. Let’s just go eat.”
He opens the door on his Porsche and I slip inside and try to calm my racing heart as he opens the front trunk and places my carry-on inside.
When he gets in and starts the engine, the whole car rumbles. It all becomes real.
I slept with Mr. Romantic.
I am in his car, going out for breakfast in San Diego.
Yesterday morning, I was in Rhode Island. I had no job prospects, no boyfriend, and no life to speak of.
And now I’m here.
It all seems too good to be true.
Chapter Nineteen - Nolan
“Where are we going?” Ivy asks when we’ve been traveling on the freeway for about thirty minutes.
“Del Mar. Do you like the races, Ivy? The horses are running. So we’re gonna go on down there to the club and have some brunch before post time.”
“I can’t go like this,” she says, pulling on my t-shirt.
“We can stop by my house and you can change first if you like.”
“Yes,” she says quickly. “Please. I actually love horses. I’ve been riding since I was six. And I’ve been to the races before. It’s a fancy affair.”
“It doesn’t have to be. All kinds of people go to the races.”
“Not to the Club.”
I shrug. “They know me. I have a box there. I go all the time in the summer. In fact, you can see the track from my house. So if I don’t feel like going down there, I just walk out onto the master bedroom terrace and enjoy it from afar.”
“Wow, that must be some house.”
“You’re gonna see it for yourself. We’re only minutes away.”
I pull into the private Boca Del Mar neighborhood and Ivy’s eyes go big as she checks out the houses. “Holy crap,” she says. “You’re really rich. I mean, I see the Porsche and you do own that resort. And I know about the clubs. But this is something, Nolan. I’m breathless.”
“You haven’t even seen the view yet, Ivy. You know what’s funny about this house?” I ask, pulling up to my gate and activating the remote control.
“What?” Ivy asks, as we wait for the gate to open.
“I didn’t even want it.” I pull the car forward and Ivy is craning her neck to get a glimpse of the house as we weave around the lush landscaping.
“Why not?” she asks, her head tipping up as I park in front of the house. “Wow,” she breathes. “It’s huge! What’s wrong with this place?”
I get out and go around to her side, opening her door and giving her my hand to help her up from the low-profile car. “Oh, there’s nothing wrong with it. It just wasn’t my thing. But Mysterious owned it before me, and he said he needed the cash. But he didn’t want to sell it to strangers because he likes the races too much. He said he’d be by to watch them in the summers. But he nev
er comes.”
I lead her though the glass front doors, and immediately, there is only one thing to look at.
The ocean.
Well, and the racetrack. You can’t help but notice it, since it’s directly below my house and I have a clear view of everything. The grandstands are filled with people already, even though the races don’t start for hours. The infield is all grassy and ready for the winners who will come, race by race, to be celebrated with trophies and prizes. It’s filled up with lots of people on the big race days, but that’s not today. And the tracks. One turf, one dirt.
“You know why people go broke at the track, Ivy?”
“Who goes broke?” She doesn’t even look at me. Her fingers are pressed up against the glass doors, like she’s trying to get closer to the ocean and the track. This magical place where you can hear thundering hooves and crashing waves in the same instant.
“Gamblers, owners, trainers, whoever. The track is filled with the richest of the rich and the poorest of the poor, all going broke together. And you know why?”
She drags her gaze to me and says, “Why?”
“Because they’re addicted. Not to gambling. Not the way a poker player is. They’re addicted to this sport in a way that has nothing to do with money. They’re addicted to that.” I point down. “The track. The smell of the dirt and the grass. And the horses. The sleek coats and the silks of the jockeys. It’s a different world down there. A different life. And people get addicted to it.”
“Are you addicted?” Ivy asks.
“If you only go once, you’re OK. You know? But if you go back, it’s over. The life…” I slide the patio doors open and the sea breeze rushes in, blowing long wisps of hair that have escaped her ponytail as she steps outside. “It is pretty cool. I didn’t think I’d be into it when I said I’d take the house off Pax’s hands. But I really do love it. I love the sound of the races. The trumpet guy? You know, that guy who blows that horn before the race starts? I live for that in the summer now. It sucks in the winter when the seasons ends and everything quiets down. And I’ve been over there hundreds of times in the past few years. So, yeah. It got me too. But I’m not a gambler. So I’m not going broke paying for the Club or the box. And I’m not an owner. I’m rich, but truthfully, you gotta be some special kind of rich to want to throw away millions of dollars a year on this sport. It never pays out.”
Ivy is caught up in my imagery for a few seconds. And then she says, “Why did your friend have to sell it? Was he in debt?”
“Who knows,” I say. “Who knows why Mysterious does anything. He never came back to visit, the asshole.”
“What does he do? I don’t know if I can recall his face.”
“Nah, he hates being photographed. And what does he do? I’m not sure, but whatever it is, it’s not something typical. Let’s just leave it at that.”
“Your friends all seem to be atypical.”
“Can’t help it,” I say with a shrug. “We got wrapped up in that shit and even though we were never that close before it all started, we got close after. But once the charges were dropped, we fell apart. Just wanted to forget, mostly. I still talk to Perfect. And I hear that Match and Mysterious both talk too. And Corporate shows up every once in a while asking if we’re hiring and need him to find anyone. But then Perfect found a girl last year and, well, he’s settling down. So we were all at a party for him a few weeks back and that’s where Corporate put me on his bachelor hit-list.”
“And you think he chose me?” Ivy points a finger at her chest. “Why?”
“You’re beautiful,” I say, tucking that blowing strand of hair behind her ear. “And smart. Even if it’s not business-school prodigy smart. You still went to Brown, right?”
Ivy laughs nervously, but nods her head. “I really did go to Brown. That’s why I knew about you guys. It’s been a while since all that happened, but it’s like an urban legend on campus for the freshmen. Some Greek Week ritual.”
“Jesus, fuck. Please tell me it’s not about gang-rape?”
“No. Nothing like that. I think it’s a team-building thing.”
“Really?” I can’t help but be interested.
“I don’t know all the details, but they break all the fraternity rushes into teams of five now. And each team has to complete the Rush Week Challenge together. They either all win, and get accepted, or they all lose, and don’t.”
“Hmm. Interesting. But enough about the past. Let’s talk food. You want to go to the club? Or…”
“Or?” She laughs. Nervously. “I have another option?”
“Well, we can see the races from here. There’s really no reason to go out. I can make you breakfast and we can eat on the terrace. And then we can talk business for a little bit. How’s that sound?”
It sounds pretty fucking fantastic to me, but Ivy hesitates.
When I got in my car and started driving off, all I kept thinking about was how I fucked her. How I was the first ever to fuck her. And she never said a word. It blew my mind. I have never had a virgin before. I’ve never had anything other than someone’s sloppy seconds.
It intrigues me. That I could get to know her better. Date her. Keep her for myself. Me and only me.
What a fucking prize, right?
And even though I have no clue what Corporate was thinking when he set all this shit up, I don’t much care.
I think I’d like to be the only man Ivy Rockwell ever fucks.
It’s a dangerous thought. Dangerous. That’s how Claudette described me to Ivy. But once I get an idea in my head I’ll usually do whatever it takes to get my way. Even if it means bringing her here. Taking her places. Getting her addicted. Just like the people down there on that track. You don’t get addicted to one thing or another. You get addicted to all of it. You get addicted to the life. I want her to be addicted to my life.
And it’s working, isn’t it?
One look at her face as she gazes down at the ocean and considers my offer tells me all I need to know. It’s working all right.
I’ve got her right where I want her.
Chapter Twenty - Ivy
I’m wowed. So if that was Nolan Delaney’s plan, he’s certainly succeeded. But… But. None of this makes much sense. Why is he doing this?
Stop complaining, Ivy. He’s still interested, that’s why.
I’m not putting myself down. I’m quite a good catch. And I did appreciate his blow job compliment. I fooled him, didn’t I?
But.
He wants to talk business. Which, in my book, is not compatible with being brought to his home.
And he’s more than I thought he was. A lot more. This house. I didn’t see this coming. I pictured him living in some ultra-modern high-rise penthouse loft near downtown San Diego where all the action is. Where his clubs are. But this house. I don’t even know where to begin.
Nora is rich. And she’s been my best friend for enough years for me to understand the word rich. They have a huge house in Greenwich, Connecticut. Ocean view, private dock. Worth millions of dollars. More dollars than I ever thought about having. Everyone at the Bishop School for Girls was rich. Everyone but me.
And Nolan is up there in that kind of rich category.
But how do I trust a guy like him? Accused of rape. Gang rape. They all were. He has this air about him that reeks of danger. I’m not sure why, because he hasn’t really done anything too unusual. So far.
But.
That one word echoes in my head.
But.
“Ivy?” Nolan presses.
“I’m thinking about it.”
“Why is it taking so long to make a decision?”
I turn to face him and almost wish I hadn’t. His looks. Damn. They are so distracting. Everything about him makes you want to stare. Take it all in and burn it into your memory.
He’s not as intimidating now. Not like he was in his suit yesterday. I like casual Nolan. It puts me at ease a bit.
But maybe I should
n’t be at ease with Mr. Romantic?
“I need to know more about you,” I say. “I don’t think all this stuff is appropriate, Nolan.”
His smile appears. Like he’s got another trick up his sleeve. “But last night was?”
“Last night I might’ve lost control a little, but the light of day—and your sister—have brought clarity to the situation. I don’t trust you.” There, I said it. “I just don’t trust you.”
“I should be the one who doesn’t trust you. Maybe you did slip that fake résumé in the pile? Maybe Corporate didn’t fuck with it? Maybe,” he says, that sly grin still gracing his face. “Maybe you came here to seduce me? Get pregnant and trap me?”
“Please.” I laugh. “I was the one who insisted on a condom.”
“True,” he says, taking my long blonde hair in his fingertips and pulling the hair tie out so it blows in the wind. “But how can I be certain?”
“I’m the one who needs to be certain, Nolan. Not you. I’m not dangerous.”
“Because you’re a woman?” he asks. “I’ve met my share of dangerous women before, Ivy.”
He’s got a point. “Well, I’m just not convinced this is a good idea. I like your house, and your car, and your view. But I’m not sure I actually like you.”
He stares at me for a few seconds. Just the sound of the crashing waves and a low hum of people coming from the racetrack down below. “Would you like to know a secret about me, Ivy? Something no one else knows?”
“What kind of secret?”
“What do you need to know in order to trust me?”
I take a deep breath and let it out. “What happened that night?”
He shakes his head. “No, not that.”
“Why not? If you have nothing to hide?”
“Because we made a pact to never talk about it again. And to be honest, I don’t actually know what happened that night.”
“How could you not know, Nolan? You were there.” What does he take me for? Some simpleton who will eat up his words and accept everything that comes out of his mouth as truth?
“I wasn’t there.”
“What do you mean? Of course you were there. Everyone knows you were there.”