She put her phone back in her pocket and rested her hand on my knee. “Give Vincent a chance. He’s not perfect. You showed him your baggage, now he’s shown you his. Take some time to think about it.”
That was a good point about baggage. “I get where Vincent’s coming from, but I don’t know if we’re going to work out. There’s so much drama in my life—Vincent, Marty, work stuff. I really wish things were simpler. I don’t know if I can handle all the chaos right now. I’m pretty close to a total breakdown.”
Riley looked at me searchingly. “Are you thinking of breaking up with Vincent?”
I sighed. “Maybe. Or at least taking a break from our relationship.”
She took my hand gently in hers. “To me it sounds like Vincent really cares about you. And I mean really. He got you a freaking security team. And from what you’ve told me over the past few weeks, you really care about him too. Am I right?”
“Of course I care about him.”
“This is only your first fight as a couple, right?”
“Well, it’s our second. The first one happened after I met Ariel. This one is much bigger.”
“So it’s your first major fight. That’s pretty normal considering how long you’ve been seeing each other. I usually have major fights in the first few weeks.”
“The circumstances aren’t normal at all. Lying about security teams and mauling exes isn’t normal.”
“Lies are pretty common, Kris. People have been forgiven for far worse lies than covering up an attempt to be overprotective against a psycho ex-boyfriend.”
I rolled my eyes. “That’s a strong case.”
Her blue eyes became serious. “Kristen, you’ve always been afraid of consequences since I’ve known you. You’re afraid of getting hurt and that makes perfect sense given what you’ve been through. Your relationship with Vincent is a risk for sure. He could hurt you emotionally but you could also hurt him. But what relationship isn’t a risk? Sometimes you have to take a risk because the reward is worth it.”
I groaned. “You sound like Vincent talking about risk-taking.”
She smiled. “Do I? Have you considered that maybe Vincent sounds like me?”
A grin spread on my lips. I didn’t know how she did it, but Riley always knew how to make me smile in the worst circumstances. “He definitely does not sound like you. You’ve got a dirtier mind.”
Her smile turned wicked. “And proud of it. So are you going to be okay? Or do we need to go to Savage Hunks to cheer you up? They’re still open at this hour you know.”
The last thing I needed right now was to see more muscled men causing a commotion. I needed peace tonight. “As tempting as that sounds, I think I’m okay now. At least a lot better than before.”
She squeezed my hand. “I’ll be here for you, whatever you need.”
I squeezed her hand back. “Thanks Riley.”
***
I didn’t have work the next day since it was Saturday. Thank goodness because I didn’t think I’d be able to get any work done with everything spinning in my mind. Although I had been exhausted the previous night, I still had difficulty falling asleep.
Unfortunately, that didn’t stop me from waking up at the usual seven. Habit can be a bitch sometimes.
I immediately checked my phone and realized I had turned it off the previous night. Remembering why I had done so, I chose to leave it off. Still groggy but unusually hungry, I decided to start the morning with a big breakfast of eggs, bacon, and sausage, hoping the meal would help me fall back asleep.
Fortunately it did the trick. I ended up sleeping well into the afternoon. I woke up and immediately went to the couch to veg out in front of the TV. There was a lot on my mind and I wanted to drown it out, which is why I tuned into Bridezillas—my guilty pleasure. Except I felt no guilt watching it, only pure unadulterated pleasure.
Just when a bride’s grandmother said she looked like a slut in her chosen wedding gown, I heard a rustling across the hall. I looked out my peephole and saw Kurt and Bernie moving boxes from their apartment. I’d barely gotten to know them and they were already moving out. Bernie’s face was looking a lot better without all the blood, although it was a bit swollen. His deep tan made it less noticeable, though.
I thought about stepping out to say something to them but everything I could think of sounded awkward: “Thanks for beating up my ex-boyfriend yesterday . . . I think? How do you two know Vincent? So . . . do you guys tan together?”
I ended up watching them for a few minutes then returning to my show.
They didn’t have much stuff, so after a few hours, I heard them finish and lock up. I spent the rest of the day vegging out on the couch, thinking about my situation.
I was still upset with Vincent even though I knew he cared about me and I cared about him. It only made it that much more painful that he lied to me. There were trust issues Vincent and I had to work out and that would take time and effort.
Then there was the issue of work. Carl was feeding me opportunities and I’d been snapping them up, which made me busier and busier. Vincent seemed to be in a similar situation with his company occupying most of his time the past few weeks.
Even though my employers hadn’t found out about my relationship with Vincent, it was still becoming a problem. It needed work and neither of us had the time to do it—at least not without making significant sacrifices.
When the latest episode ended with the bride literally pulling chunks of her own hair out, I came to the conclusion that I was going to take a break from my relationship with Vincent. I couldn’t keep going with things the way they were. If I didn’t make a change, I would lose my mind.
***
On Sunday afternoon I finally gave in to turning on my phone. I was going to call Vincent and tell him we should take a break. Closing my bedroom door, I picked up my phone from the nightstand and turned it on. There were a bunch of unread text messages—some of them new and some of them from Friday when I ran out of the restaurant.
I ignored the messages and called him.
He answered on the first ring. “Kristen?”
His silky voice had its usual effect on me even though I knew to prepare for it. “Vincent . . .”
He released an audible exhale and I could picture his chest lowering from the release of air. “I’m so glad to hear your voice. I thought I wasn’t going to hear from you again and that scared me.”
“Hey Vincent. Listen . . . I need to tell you something.” I had to push this conversation forward before Vincent’s persuasive hold took effect. Otherwise, I’d begin doubting my decision. Fortunately, it was much easier to resist him on the phone than in person.
“Wait. Just a moment.” I heard some mumbling in the background. “Shit. I’m sorry, Kristen. I have a meeting right now. But whatever you want to tell me sounds important. Is it an emergency? Can I meet you later? I’ll try my hardest to be done by six.”
“You’re at work on a Sunday?”
There was another mumble in the background. “Yeah, sorry. We have a lot going on over here right now.”
I breathed deeply, reaffirmed in my decision that we were both too busy to make this work. “I’ll drop by your office at six thirty then.”
Meeting him at his office as opposed to his place or my place would make it easier to leave after the discussion. It would’ve been easier just to tell him over the phone but I supposed it was more appropriate to handle this in person.
His voice brightened. “Can’t wait to see you then.”
“Bye Vincent.”
When evening rolled around, I gingerly stepped out my front door in jeans and a t-shirt. It’d been nearly two days since I left the apartment. I made sure to pack my taser in my purse before I went over to Vincent’s office in case I ran into any more trouble along the way.
As expected, the commute downtown was less crowded than usual since most people weren’t working. High-powered CEOs were one of the exceptions. I made it to the Red Fusion offi
ces to find a few people crunching on their laptops. I was about to ring Vincent when an employee who recognized me from before kindly opened the glass door. I thanked him and he promptly returned to his desk to work on his keyboard. Knowing the way to Vincent’s office, I walked down the hall and stopped in front of his door. This wasn’t going to be an easy discussion, but it had to be done.
I took a deep breath then went inside.
Vincent was at his desk, brows furrowed and typing furiously. He was in his usual elegant New York attire: white shirt with red-striped tie and black pants. When he saw me—those dark brown eyes piercing me like arrows—he stopped working and smiled. “Kristen.”
“Hey,” I said, returning his smile. I kept one hand in my jeans and waved at him with the other.
He glided around the desk and hugged me tightly, the squeeze making my legs turn to jelly momentarily. As always, he smelled wonderful. The spicy scent tickled my nostrils as well as other parts of my body. He kissed me on the forehead then the tip of my nose. “I’m so glad you’re here. I thought you’d call so I could let you in.”
“I was going to when one of your employees let me inside,” I said as he led me by the hand to his leather couch in the corner. I was reminded of the first time I entered this office intending to make another case for choosing Waterbridge-Howser as his wealth management firm but wound up almost having sex with him instead. That was a distressing time in my life but not quite as distressing as recent events.
“I got you these.” He reached for the coffee table and handed me a bouquet of red roses. There was a card attached with a small puffin on the front. It looked rough, like it was drawn with crayons by a child.
“Did you draw this picture?” I asked.
“Yeah, you like it?” He sounded proud of his work.
I had to stifle a laugh. A smile broke out on my face despite myself. “Let’s just hope the inside makes up for it.”
The card read:
Kristen, I’m sorry. I messed up. I lied to you and didn’t respect your choices. Give me a chance to make it up to you.
Yours, Vincent
“This is really sweet, Vincent.” I took a whiff of the roses and savored the fresh fragrance. The gesture touched my heart but gifts could only go so far.
“I’m glad you like it.” He smiled, his boyish grin making my insides mushy. “So what did you want to tell me earlier today? It sounded important.”
I carefully put the items on the seat next to me and exhaled, gathering up the courage to tell him what I’d planned on saying. “I want to take a break.”
His smile faded and his dark eyes studied me. “What kind of break?”
“A break from us.”
“Temporary or permanent?”
“Temporary. For now at least. My life is too crazy at the moment and I’m sure you’re really stressed out as well. It’ll be good for both of us.”
His gaze narrowed. “The only time I’m not stressed is when I’m with you.”
I looked at him skeptically. “What about your work? You’ve seemed pretty worried about it the last few weeks.”
“Work is work. I can manage it, especially when I’m thinking about you. It helps to have something to look forward to.”
“I thought you said I was a distraction?”
“That was when my priorities were different. Seems so long ago. Now work is the distraction.”
“And I’m your main concern now? Is it because of Marty?”
“It’s because the way I feel about you. You’re more than a concern. You’re a part of my life.”
“You’ve been so busy lately. I’ve hardly seen you. I don’t feel like I’ve been that big of a part of your life.”
I expected him to have some kind of charming response but instead, he bent down and casually slipped off each of his black loafers, leaving him in his black socks. He set his shoes near my feet. Then he started slipping off my flats.
“Uh, what are you doing?”
He managed to slip off one when I pulled my legs away.
“I sincerely hope that you’re not expecting us to have sex on your couch. I know you’re all for ‘finishing what we started’ but roses and a cute card aren’t going to cut it.”
His expression was unreadable. “Give me your feet. I want to show you something.”
“What for?”
“Trust me.”
Sensing he didn’t intend for us to have sex, I gingerly scooched my legs back and offered him the foot with the remaining shoe. He gently removed it and inserted my feet in his loafers.
I felt the lingering warmth of his feet on my own. I looked down and was fascinated by the maleness of the shoe. The texture of the leather was smooth and glossy but the slight crease near the toes and various small nicks gave it a rough, unrefined edge. The shape narrowing sharply at the toes seemed to point forward like a general points his hand to rally an army’s charge. I imagined Vincent wearing these in a variety of scenarios: walking to high-powered meetings, standing in front of a podium giving a company-wide speech, bending down to pick up a quarter. My drab flats looked feminine and dainty in comparison.
I wiggled my toes inside, probing the empty space between the inner lining and my feet. Although comfortable, the loafers were much too big for me. They might as well have been clown shoes.
“Now close your eyes for a moment.”
I did as he asked, expecting further instructions. After an awkward minute of not receiving any, I opened my eyes.
Vincent looked at me expectantly. “Well?”
“Well what?”
“What do you feel?”
I wiggled my toes again. “Umm . . . a soft insole? I don’t know. What am I supposed to feel?”
“You’re supposed to feel the muscles in your legs tensing, blood coursing between them, your cock getting hard like steel.”
“Um, what?”
“You experience an intense attraction to Kristen. You were thinking about product strategy before but now your thoughts are turning dirty. You can’t think straight. All you can think about is when you’re going to see Kristen again. And if anyone hurts her, there will be hell to pay. Then you realize she’s what you want. All you’ve ever wanted.” He put his hand on my leg, the warmth seeping through the denim to my skin. “When you put yourself in my shoes. That’s what you feel.”
“Oh.”
“Now imagine feeling that all the time. During meetings; on the plane; while you’re eating . . . You see now how you’re a part of my life?”
I nodded. “You make a good point.”
“Do you still want to see me?”
Vincent’s charm was starting to take its effect on me but I still had reservations. Maybe I’d built up resistance to him from all our time together. “I don’t know. Yes and no.”
“What are the reasons for ‘yes’?”
I put my finger on my chin and thought about it. “You make a mean omelette.”
“That’s it?”
“Umm . . . Shrimp pasta as well. Also, you’ve shown you really care about me. Taking me on trips, carving time out of your busy schedule to be with me, being concerned about my safety.”
“And the orgasms?”
“They’re a nice perk but I think I could go without them and be okay.”
“Then I have room for improvement. Okay, what are the reasons for ‘no’?”
“I don’t know if I can trust you.”
“You’ve trusted me in the past.”
“That’s true.”
“The bar in Cape Town, surfing, being discreet about our dating, blindfolds, cybersex, sex on my plane . . . am I missing anything?”
“Not that I can think of.”
“And I messed up by getting that security team. And for not telling you about Giselle’s ex-boyfriend, which you must admit is not a complete breach in trust. More like a half-breach.”
I mused about it. “All right, I’ll give you that.”
“Also the Ari
el text message was a misunderstanding so that doesn’t count.”
“It pissed me off so I’d say that’s a half-breach.”
“Fine. Even so, it’s six in support of trusting me versus two in support of distrusting me. I’d say the odds are in my favor.”
“In terms of numbers, maybe. But numbers are soft when there’s feelings involved.”
“Do you still have feelings for me?”
“Yes. I do. But I still think we should take a break.”
He tried inserting his feet into my flats but only managed to squeeze a few toes inside.
“That’s not what your shoes are telling me.”
“Oh?” I became curious. “What are they saying?”
“They’re saying life is crazy right now. I don’t know what to do. I want to figure things out on my own because I’m a strong, independent woman. I want to prove it to Vincent and to myself. But I do know that Vincent really cares about me. He’s always had the best intentions for me. And I really care about him. As much as I try to say otherwise, I really don’t want to be apart from him.”
I laughed despite myself, tears welling up in my eyes. He was so sweet. “My shoes talk too much.”
He smiled and cleared his throat, but I could tell he was affected too, his eyes betraying him with a glisten. “Come on Kristen, give us a chance. We both have crazy lives but it doesn’t mean we should fix things by ourselves. It might be easier. But if we make it through this together, we’ll be stronger. If we make it through this alone, we’ll just be better at being alone.” He touched my cheek tenderly. “Let’s work this out together.”
He gently brought my head into his chest. I grumbled but didn’t resist because it felt too good, too comforting. The distress I felt over our issues seemed to magically disappear when he held me. I realized how much I loved his touch and being with him despite our problems. It was worth taking a chance. Vincent was worth it. Even if it meant risking getting hurt.
“Fine,” I muttered. “We’ll do this together.”
He exhaled in relief and kissed my head. “Can I call you Kitten again?” he asked, nuzzling his cheek in my hair.
I tried to think of a response that didn’t make it seem like I totally forgave him. “As long as you let me call you Vinnie the Pooh.”
Beautiful Surrender (The Surrender Series Book Three) Page 4