by Bella Forro
I was in the middle of admiring my makeup and the ringlets Cassie had created when the intercom buzzed again.
“Ms. Victoria?” the voice said over the intercom. “It’s Will. I’m here to pick you up for the Gala?”
“Oh, right!” I called, forgetting for just a moment that I would need to press the intercom button and not just yell through the apartment. “Okay,” I said, turning toward Cassie. “I think I’m ready.”
“You sure look ready,” Cassie said with a salacious wink.
“Wish me luck. I’m going to need it. One more adventure where I’m on the spot with everyone Mark knows. In the public eye. In front of a million people who feel like they know him but have never actually met him at all.”
Just saying the words had my stomach dropping, and I crossed my fingers and made a face. Cassie swatted at me and passed a simple black clutch toward me, well stocked with emergency lipstick and powder.
“Go get ‘em, tiger. And don’t forget to text me all the details.”
She gave me a little wave as she pushed me the rest of the way out of the apartment, and then I was alone in the hallways, with my clutch and the Gucci dress.
Will was waiting patiently for me at the front door, holding it open as I stepped outside and toward the car he had left double-parked with its hazards on.
I have to say; the black Mercedes was my favorite of all the cars Will drove. Not that I think there is something inherently special about it, I just think it reminds me the most of Mark and our time together.
I slid into the sleek interior, expecting to find Mark there, but the backseat was empty.
As if reading my mind, I caught Will’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “Mark had a late meeting, so you were first on the pickup detail. We’ll head over to get him now.”
“Wonderful,” I murmured, trying to fight back down a fresh wave of nerves. I’d hoped that seeing him was going to put all of my anxiety — about the night to come, the dress, us — at ease. Now I was going to have to sit with it a little bit longer.
The traffic was heavy, but before too long we were outside of Mark’s building, and Will was stepping out, pulling open Mark’s door, and he was sliding in beside me, as debonair and put together as ever.
“Hi.” I was suddenly feeling shy and overexposed, and I couldn’t meet his eyes.
Mark made an approving sound in the back of his throat and leaned in to press a kiss to my cheek, his hand running up my bare arm. His aftershave was fresh and intoxicating and had me immediately thinking of the last time we’d been this close to one another, the body heat and friction between us.
I felt the flush creeping up over my cheeks. It was going to be a long night.
“You look incredible,” he said, his mouth lingering near my ear. “I knew this dress was going to suit you.”
“It’s a beautiful dress,” I said, running my fingers back over the beaded material. “But you know I don’t need you to buy me expensive things. The dress I had for tonight was beautiful, too.” I didn’t add that it was a fraction of the cost; he probably already knew that.
“I know I don’t have to buy you expensive things. I want to buy you things. And I couldn’t stand the thought of this dress continuing to exist without you in it. It fits you perfectly.”
That was true. And it wasn’t the kind of dress that would give a lot of allowances. “It was surprising how well it fit.”
“Well, you know,” he said, his hand dropping down to my knee and moving upward. “I do have some experience with this body of yours. I’ve gotten to know you quite well. In the Biblical sense.”
I could hear my heartbeat begin to hammer, the tingle of desire spreading through me.
“Is that so?” I asked, and I heard that little hitch in my own voice.
“Hmm,” he responded, and I knew he wished the night was already over as well.
And here it had barely even begun.
It was going better than I had thought it would.
We were meeting a ton of people. Or, more accurately, I was meeting them for the first time, and Mark was seeing them again.
And it wasn’t as traumatizing as I had anticipated it would be.
Everyone was pleasant, not to mention beautiful, moving through crowds of people and clouds of perfume.
Perhaps the money was less of an issue than I’d thought it would be. Maybe I had blown the whole thing out of proportion because it was a sensitive subject for me — not for everyone else.
I was on my second glass of champagne and shocked to find I was actually enjoying myself.
Even Mark’s father had been pleasant enough, saying he’d been following a recent project of ours and thought it had been a success.
“Congratulations,” he’d said with a smile. “We need more people like you at Pierce and Jones.”
I couldn’t help the feeling of accomplishment that swept through me. It was good to be recognized.
Especially by Mark’s father, who had, up until that point, done everything he could to make me feel as unsuccessful as possible.
I was on top of the world. I was starting to think I could spend my whole life at Galas like this one, and be happy doing it.
Or I was, anyway, until a glittering woman in pink and a man in a matching cummerbund made their way over to us.
If I thought this was going to be like every other meeting I’d had so far, I was about to be sadly mistaken.
“Darling,” the woman was saying, air kissing either side of my face. “Gucci! A little last season, but I suppose like everything else, it will come around again.”
I was still trying to get my feet back under me, so I wasn’t quick at processing the insult.
Fortunately, Mark was there to pick up the slack. “Miranda. Seth. Always good to see you.”
“Yes, yes,” Seth was saying, not really engaged in the conversation, but looking off into the far corner of the room, like there was something over there he would rather be doing.
I was just working up the nerve to say something when the woman — Miranda — cut me off with additional commentaries about my dress.
“You know,” she was saying, “I was a little surprised to see you in Gucci at all, after all, it’s quite an investment piece. I didn’t think a waitress would be able to swing that. You must make incredible tips.”
There was something in the way her eyes were moving over my body, in the way she said the word tips, that insinuated I was making my tips doing something other than serving food.
Not that I was serving food at all, which just made the whole thing that much more confusing.
“Oh, Miranda,” Mark was saying, and I think I was the only one who was able to hear how strained his voice was, or how tight his grip had become around my waist. “I think you’ve been misinformed. Victoria isn’t a food server. She’s in business. Marketing actually. So, she does nothing for tips.” He emphasized the part about tips, which I appreciated. “And she can afford whatever luxury items she would like to have in her closet.”
That was definitely a stretch. Or, it was if we were talking about the money I spent on luxury items. It wasn’t a stretch if we were talking about the luxury items Mark was willing to buy for me.
And I knew all I would have to do was ask. Not that I was comfortable doing that, or even really wanted those things. After all, I wasn’t with Mark because I wanted things. I was just with him because I wanted him.
Miranda made a face, like she thought she was being given lip service, and leaned in close to me like she was hoping I would be the only one able to hear her. “I hear escorting is all the rage now. Very lucrative. People don’t look down on it like they used to.”
Up close I could see the line of her fake eyelashes and the heavy layer of the foundation she had used to even out her skin tone.
The heat of embarrassment was sweeping through me, but I was saved from having to say anything by Mark, who was pulling me toward him and away from Miranda.
&nbs
p; “As I said, Miranda,” now I was sure I wasn’t the only one who could hear the coldness in his voice, the harshness in his words. “Victoria is not an escort. And I would greatly appreciate it if you would stop implying that she is, and if you hear it from other people, I suggest you pass along that nugget of wisdom. Victoria is my chosen partner, and you — all of you — will have to accept that.” He gave a dismissing shrug. “Or I’m going to have to start speaking with lawyers.”
Even through the makeup, I could see the color rising in Miranda’s face. And then she was mumbling something under her breath and pulling Seth in another direction, probably off to destroy someone else’s evening the same way she had destroyed mine.
“Sorry,” I murmured to Mark, embarrassed that he had to see first-hand how other people viewed me, viewed us being together.
He pulled me toward him, looking me full in the face. “You do not need to apologize for the way other people behave. There is nothing lacking about you, at all. Don’t put too much stock into things people like Miranda say. She’s just a bitter woman who’s out to hurt you. Don’t let it happen.”
If he was trying to give me a pep talk, it wasn’t working. I was just getting irritated about everything all over again. It was so easy for him to tell me not to get worked up about what other people had to say. No one could say anything that would touch him. It mattered a whole hell of a lot more to someone like me.
“Thanks,” I said, wrenching away from him. “But I am perfectly capable of defending myself. I don’t need you to validate me all the time.”
I suddenly wanted a break from him. From everything. I wanted fresh air.
But I didn’t know how to get any of those things without looking like I was storming off. And I definitely didn’t want to add fuel to the fire.
“I need to go to the restroom,” I said instead, drifting off in the direction I thought they might be located in.
“Alright,” he said, staying behind.
I could feel him watching me as I went.
I took my time finding the bathroom and returning back to Mark. By the time I did, people were settling in for the meal and the presentations.
I joined Mark at the table, where he pulled out my chair for me and pressed a kiss to my cheek.
My anger and frustration lingered, but not for too long, and by the time we had made it through the salads and the attendant had been by with another bottle of wine for the table, I was back to enjoying myself.
Really enjoying myself. I was going to put everything that had happened with Miranda and Seth behind me, and I was going to focus on all the good things that had happened instead.
Starting with Mark’s hand on my thigh beneath the table.
By the time the Gala was coming to a close — or at least to a point where Mark and I could slip out for the night, I was more than ready to go.
Not because I wasn’t enjoying myself, but because I couldn’t wait to be alone with him.
“Ready?” he asked, apparently of the same mind as I was.
“Definitely,” I murmured, slipping my arm through his and letting him lead us out of the room.
Not that we made it through without a few interceptions, but it was more or less a success, with the two of us safely sequestered back in Mark’s car before we knew it.
He didn’t ask me if I wanted to go back to his place, just directed Will to take us there.
And I wasn’t going to object.
In the meantime, he let his hands play over my dress, teasing me. In the dark of the car, it was too tempting having him so close and to not be alone.
So tempting I had to repeatedly remind myself that Will was just a few feet away, and we were heading down a dangerous path.
I finally stilled his hand on my thigh, where he had slipped it up the gown so that his skin was on mine.
By the time Will pulled into the parking garage, I was considering a cold shower — anything that might temper the burning that had settled deep in my core.
We barely made it to the elevator before his hands were on my body, roaming freely over my curves, his mouth pressed against mine, and I was interested in devouring every bit of him as well.
We weren’t quiet, and I was grateful there was no one else on the floor he lived on. Somehow we managed to make it through that little foyer by the elevator and his condo door.
We didn’t make it to the bedroom. Not the first time.
But I wasn’t going to complain about that either.
Chapter 23
Mark
The sound of the landline woke me.
Well before I had any interest in being woken at all.
Victoria was still warm in my arms. I let myself lie with her a moment longer, hoping whoever was calling would give up.
When it became apparent that wasn’t the case, I slipped out of bed and out into the hall, grabbing the phone off the hook.
“Hello?” I said, unable to hide the irritation I was feeling.
“Mark.”
It was my father, which did little to put me in a better mood.
“Dad. Why are you calling me at this hour? On my home phone?”
“You weren’t answering your cell.”
He said it in a way that suggested I should have leaped at the opportunity to answer any phone call from him, and I had been remiss in my duties as his son when I had missed his first efforts.
“I’ve been calling you since last night. I thought you might answer if I called you at home. And you did.”
Wonderful. I had inadvertently rewarded his bad behavior. Next time I was just going to yank the cord out from the wall.
“Why are you calling?” I repeated, wanting nothing more than to get back into bed with Victoria.
“I’m calling about Victoria, of course.” Now, he sounded just as annoyed as I felt. “I’m calling to tell you I know everything about her. I know about your little plan to have her pretend to be your girlfriend so you’ll fulfill your end of the deal and still receive your inheritance.
“I’m just calling to tell you I won’t allow that kind of fraudulence to be acceptable in this case. If you remain with Victoria, everything is off.”
I could feel my anger about to bubble over. “Look, Dad, I don’t care who you give your money to. I’ve told you already; I’m not with Victoria on a lark. If you don’t like her, that’s not my problem, but I am certainly not going to stop seeing her because you think you can blackmail me into it. Here’s some shocking news — I don’t need your money. I’m perfectly capable of making what money I do need on my own.”
I slammed the phone back down on the hook and turned back toward my room.
I wasn’t prepared to see Victoria standing in the doorway, a sheet wrapped tightly around herself, a look of shock and horror on her face.
“I heard that,” she finally managed.
“Heard what?” I asked, thinking that might be the safest way to play this out.
“I heard you tell your father you were giving everything up for me.” She straightened her shoulders before spinning and disappearing back into the bedroom.
I was walking toward the door when she came back out, the dress I’d bought her back on, her hair pulled up and back into a haphazard ponytail. She was moving like a woman on a mission. Like nothing I did or said was going to get in her way.
“I can’t have that, Mark. We barely even know each other, and I can’t let you walk away from everything you’ve worked your whole life for.” I thought I heard her hesitating, but maybe it was only wishful thinking. “Especially because none of this means anything to me. You were just supposed to be a good time. I’m only with you for the money. The exposure. Everything that being with someone like you brings.”
Her words felt like little daggers to my soul, and I was having difficulty catching my breath.
Because every time I said I didn’t care what others thought, that it didn’t matter what kind of person they felt I should be with, I had meant it.
Victoria was the one I wanted. For the good and the bad, and the things that worked and the things that didn’t. She was the one I wanted to be with.
And now she was breezing out of the condo like I had just been a tourist stop on the way to her final destination.
I tried a shower.
It didn’t help.
I tried a drink.
I couldn’t get past the first sip.
None of this was helping the problem.
I’d phoned Victoria twice.
Nothing.
Not surprising.
What was surprising was the third time I called her, and I got an automated message telling me the number wasn’t in service.
That was about the time everything became painfully real.
I made my way down to the lobby and the doorman, asking him to have my car brought around.
I didn’t want to be near anyone. Not even Will. I just wanted the time to myself.
And I was going to go see my father.
He’d made my life a living hell. And I was going to remind him that dying didn’t mean he had the right to destroy everyone else around him.
The trip to the Island didn’t take long at all; once I made it out of the congested heart of the city.
I buzzed at the front gates of his estate, not caring that I was unannounced.
I slammed the car into park out front of the main entrance and stormed up the stairs and into the house, pushing right by the help who had come rushing out to greet me.
I growled at them to stand back and started calling for my father instead.
I found him in his office upstairs, and I tried not to let the fact that his oversized desk had been replaced with a hospital bed deter me from what I had come there to do in the first place.
“I hope you’re happy!” I snapped. “This latest stunt of yours had Victoria walking out of my life. I need you to know I don’t appreciate any of this, and as far as I’m concerned, this is over between us. I don’t have time for people like you in my life. Whatever your hang-up is with Victoria, you need to get over it. Whatever your obsession is with Amy, you need to know I will never, ever, be getting back together with her — whether you are alive or dead.”