by C. J. Thomas
“What do they say about the truth?”
“It’ll set you free.”
“Exactly. Free you from the jerk list and then we’ll see.”
Heading back to the loft, for the first time in a long time, I was thankful I had a shoot scheduled with Paisley in an hour. There were things to discuss.
CHAPTER 52
Liam
I thumbed through the stack of notes Randy had put together for me about the immigration issue. Then I scanned through the letters from ICE, hoping to find some sliver of information that would postpone my deportation. Something that would give me any other option besides packing my bags.
Or getting married.
Sadie was right, I had considered asking Tessa to marry me just to stay in the country. It wasn’t fair to put her in that position. It didn’t matter that it seemed as if we were going in that direction, that I could already see a future with her, or that I very likely would put a ring on her finger one day.
Doing it for the wrong reasons didn’t make it right.
I now saw how much pressure I’d put on her just by considering such a thing. Not that I’d brought it up with her yet, which, looking back, only made things worse.
I ran my hand across the white leather of the chaise lounge. Earlier this week, I’d pulled the sofa over beside my desk. It made me think of Tessa and I enjoyed visualizing her on top of it. Legs spread for me. Looking into her eyes filled with anticipation. Pulling her hips to me and licking those sweet lips for the first time.
With her not calling me back, imagining it was about as good as I could get. Yes, I was addicted to her taste, to her, to everything about her.
One good thing about having practically unlimited funds was access to a jet. I could always fly Tessa to come see me as often as she’d be willing to travel, but I didn’t like the idea of a long distance relationship.
I wanted her with me.
To put my arms around her and kiss her anytime I damn well pleased. Not to mention my addiction to her taste.
I ached just thinking about not having the option to lick her sweetness . . . I groaned and adjusted myself. Getting hard right when I was about to see Paisley put a sour taste in my mouth and fixed my little problem fast enough.
I looked down at the stacks of papers. If only I could fix all this as easily as arranging the pages on my desk. I’d brought everything over to my office, hoping that the change of scenery might give me a new perspective.
The logo for my company, Phoenix Studios, popped up on my computer as my screen saver went into action. It really hit me for the first time: Leaving didn’t only mean losing Tessa; I’d lose my company as well. At least as it was today. My corset collection was complete enough and I could always do an exhibit in Europe, but it wasn’t the same.
I had already found connections with other photographers and agents for my best models. Most here in New York but no one got better than Sadie. She deserved it. All the quality and none of the drama. Deciding whether or not to go to LA wouldn’t be easy for her, but I really hoped she’d take me up on that connection. It’d be worth it.
Paisley had come to me as one of my first models when I opened the doors to this studio three years ago. She’d done some well-known work in the fashion world in her early teens. Nearly a decade ago, she was one of the up and coming looks. But she’d had to skip a few years just after she’d made it big. By the time she was ready to come back, her agent had new and fresh talent. Her career never took off again and I didn’t think her desire for the spotlight ever went away.
If she hadn’t tried to screw me over this past week, she would have received one of my best referrals as well. The irony of it all was that if she’d waited just a little bit longer, she would have probably gotten all she’d really wanted.
It was hard to think about how much she’d changed over the last few years. We’d been close for most of that time, and if someone would have told me she’d pull this crap, I’d have laughed.
I supposed that was probably why it never really occurred to me that she might not be pregnant. I mean, who the hell lies about that sort of thing?
The one good thing about getting as close to Paisley as I had was knowing things about her that she never wanted anyone to learn, especially the public.
I turned at the knock at the door.
Paisley had never been one for wearing clothes. If it was legal to walk around naked in heels, Paisley would be the first one to go for it. It surprised me a little that she didn’t live in a nudist colony or something. But then she wouldn’t stand out nearly as much. Today, she wore a red halter with jeans that looked painted on. I did a double take.
“Are those jeans actually painted on?” Not that I wanted to give any impression that I wanted to look at her, but I had to ask.
She broke out into a smile and I realized I probably should have just let it go. “Yes they are.” She twisted her hips one way, then the other, and upon bending over, it was clear that she wasn’t wearing any underwear. “I had a topless jeans shoot in Manhattan today.” She laughed. “You should have seen this group of old men. Pretty sure we nearly gave one of them a heart attack.”
Good god. Leave it to her to actually walk around naked.
At one point of knowing Paisley, seeing her like this would have turned me on and I would have bent her over and taken her right here. She probably wouldn’t have made it past the door. The way she moved around, it became very clear that me fucking her right here was what she’d been hoping for. Coming in here nearly naked—because any painted on clothing didn’t count—she had probably hoped that I would look past all that had happened and we could rewind right back to us.
She didn’t realize there’d never be an us again.
When she could see I wasn’t making a move for her, she pouted a little and asked if we were going to start the shoot. I didn’t bother mentioning how unprofessional it was to show up to my studio with body paint on. How the hell was I supposed to get a clean image with that stuff on her?
I held back because I hadn’t scheduled this appointment for a photo shoot, anyway.
“Why don’t you have a seat?”
She went for the sofa and I blocked her just before she could sit. The idea of having my hand around her sent chills down my back, and not in a good way, but the last thing I wanted was an imprint of her ass across the white leather. I’d already made arrangements to have it shipped back home.
I pulled over a spare stool I kept for outside shoots, then sat in my own chair.
She flared her knees out when she sat, giving me a clear view of her pussy. I made a point of not looking down.
“Paisley,” I began.
“Hmm?” It came out more as a purr and I wondered where the hell she got the idea that I would want anything from her after what she’d pulled.
“You confided something in me that I never told anyone because I didn’t want to hurt you.”
She frowned, then waved me off. “About those parking tickets. No one is going to know that I convinced that officer to remove them.” Her eyes flashed in enjoyment. “Didn’t mean to make you jealous or anything. You and I were on a little break and I had to get them off my record.” She scooted her chair toward me until our knees were practically touching. “Nothing you need to worry about.”
I sighed. “Paisley, you can screw anyone you damn well please. I’m not talking about the tickets. You told me about your baby.”
“You mean our baby, Liam. It takes two to make that happen, you know.”
My patience grew thin. “I don’t need a lesson on where babies come from.” I crossed my legs while scooting away from her as far back as my chair would go before running into my desk.
She smiled and scooted toward me with a mischievous grin as she said, “Are you sure?”
Before I could get up, she straddled me. With only my pants between us, I could feel her heat along my cock and I immediately stood her up and off of me.
“I am
very sure.” The words came out with enough conviction to make her sit back down on the stool. I didn’t care where her ass was planted at this point. Anywhere was better than my crotch.
“Well you don’t have to be mean about it.”
I sighed and stood, figuring being on my feet may be the best way to approach this. I’d thought a face-to-face adult discussion would be the way to go, but clearly adulting was beyond Paisley at this point.
“Do you remember our conversation over wine about a year ago when you told me about the baby? Not this baby that you claim I’m the father of, but—”
“You are the father, Liam. How could you think—”
I held up a hand. “Let me finish.” I walked over to my window and took in the view of the city. I worked to memorize the skyline just as I saw it now. Sure, I could photograph, had photographed it, but there was something about the way the afternoon sun hit the buildings just now that gave me the courage I needed. “The baby you had when you were sixteen.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw Paisley put a hand to her mouth.
“You gave that baby up for adoption.”
I figured she’d have something to say. I waited for it, but when she stayed silent, I turned to her.
Tears ran down Paisley’s cheeks. I knew how touchy of a subject this was for her. That was why I hadn’t brought it up before now, even when she came at me about the baby. It was the kind of ammo in your back pocket that you never used, because using it would mean crushing that person.
I didn’t want to do that to her, but the truth had to come out.
If this was the only way I’d get it, then I had to use it.
“I know how guilty you feel about giving up that baby. Which makes it even more surprising that you’d use a baby to try to blackmail me.”
“Liam, look—”
I held my hand up again. “If you don’t get that paternity test today, I will bring your story to the media.”
“We have our shoot. How do you expect me to do both?”
“There is no shoot. One of us is leaving here with a place to go. You’re either getting tested or I’m going to the press.”
She tried to dab at her eyes with the back of her wrist and I grabbed a tissue from my desk and handed it to her.
“You’ve been in a few magazines this year. I’m sure you can use that to further your career, but you remember what the media did with their accusations when you were a teenager. It took years to rise back up, and never back to where you’d been. What do you think they’ll do this time around with the information?”
“I don’t need the test.” She sniffled and blew her nose into the tissue, unable to even look in my direction.
“And why is that, Paisley?”
“I’mnotpregnant.” Her words mushed together into a garbled mess that was barely understandable.
I handed her the whole box of tissues, anything to keep her talking. “Paisley, are you even pregnant?” I had to get a clearer answer to be sure I heard her correctly.
She shook her head. “No. I’m so sorry. I’m not. I’m not pregnant.”
“Why did you use something against me that would cause you so much pain?”
Her shoulders shook as she said, “I was afraid I was going to lose you. I needed you in my life.”
“Didn’t you realize that lying to me about that would guarantee I’d want nothing to do with you again?”
“I’m sorry.”
“So am I.”
After she had gone through half the box of tissues, Paisley finally left. She couldn’t leave soon enough, but I wanted to make it clear that we were done and to never contact me again. As soon as her painted ass was out the door I called Tessa.
Once, twice . . . five times. She still wouldn’t answer. This wasn’t something I could tell her over the phone so I called Sadie.
“Pick up. Pick up, dammit.”
“Talk to Paisley?” The question was the first thing out of her mouth. No greeting, even.
“You were right. She’s not pregnant.”
She scoffed. “Of course I’m right.”
I chuckled. Sadie’s boldness was one of my favorite things about her. “Tell me where I can find her. She’s not picking up the phone.”
“She’s at home in Greenwich with Dani.” There was a slight pause that I didn’t try to fill. “If you hurt her, I know where you live.”
“For the next few days.”
“There wouldn’t be a spot on Earth I couldn’t come find you.”
I chuckled again. “Noted.”
CHAPTER 53
Tessa
“You’re going to LA!” The words seemed to spill out of my mouth all on their own.
“I said I might be going to LA. There’s a key word in there.” Sadie laughed as she raided my array of suits. I’d forgotten how many I’d left here in Greenwich.
Not wanting to think of my best friend living all the way across the country, I laid back on my bed and stared at the ceiling. “Have you found a job out there already?”
“Nothing for sure. They want me to do some video interview later today. Hence the suit.”
“Which one are you going to wear?” I asked.
“I realize that you are quite intimate with my closet, but I’m more like on a first date here.” She trailed her hands across the row of jackets. “I have to get to know what we have here, really feel it out.”
“Don’t you mean, feel it up?” I said as I watched her peek under one of the skirts. “This is a first date with my clothes, remember? No examining the good stuff.”
“I’m just playing the field.” She held up two gray pencil skirts for me to choose from for her.
“Not sure why I have two of the same color.”
Sadie held out one, then the other. “This one is gray. This one is gunmetal.”
“Gunmetal is gray.”
“If they both look the same to you, why do you have two of them?”
“You probably convinced me to buy them.”
She shrugged. “You’re probably right. They will go with just about anything.” She hung them back up. “And, for the record, they are different colors.”
“If you’re so into them, why don’t you marry one of them?” I teased.
“First date with your closet, remember?” She looked over her shoulder at me. “Marriage on your mind?”
“No . . . okay, maybe a little.”
“You should maybe give him a chance.”
“What made you suddenly sway in his favor?” I sat up. “Wait, was that Liam on the phone earlier?”
Sadie gave me a mischievous grin. “You mean when I stepped out of here claiming that I’d set my pants on vibrate?”
I narrowed my eyes and worked to keep a straight face. “That’s not a thing.”
“But don’t you wish it was?”
“Stop changing the subject. That was Liam on the phone. What did he say?”
She held her hands up. “I’m not going to be in the middle of this, but when he does reach out to you, hear him out.”
“You said it yourself: this is a lot to take in all at once. Marriage and a baby that isn’t even mine.”
Sadie huffed and started back at the beginning of my closet. “Hear the guy out, okay?”
I huffed back at her, then frowned at something she’d said earlier. “Since when did you need a suit to model in, anyway?”
Sadie pulled out cream-colored pants and a three-quarter-length jacket to match, then looked at me for a moment before answering. “Liam didn’t only put me in touch with a modeling contact in LA. He connected me with one of the biggest talent agencies on the west coast—Premier Agency.” She hesitated again and I wondered what had Sadie so unsure about herself. “They also represent actors.”
“I never realized you were interested in that sort of thing.”
“I’m not sure if I am, but it’d be nice to give it a shot just to see if it’s for me.” She shrugged. “There’s not as muc
h opportunity out here for it. I’ve thought about it before but it’s all about who you know, you know?”
“And you know Liam.”
“So do you. Hell, he wants to marry you. Even if things don’t work out between the two of you, I’m pretty sure you’d have your pick of connections. Anywhere you’d want to go, he’d make it happen for you.”
“I’ve only modeled a few times. It doesn’t make sense for me to stay with it.”
“You’re better at it than you think. It’s not like rocket science. Or accounting.”
“Are you making fun of my mad math skills?”
“Never.”
“I may try interning at another firm. Go back to my dad’s eventually. After talking to the partners earlier this week, I could step into the position I was about to start.”
“There you go.”
I shook my head. “It wouldn’t be the same without him, and being there would remind me too much of him. I couldn’t deal with that every day. At least, not right now.”
“I thought most internships aren’t paid.”
“They’re not, but a real estate staging company called me to purchase all the furniture for three times what I was about to sell it for.”
“Is that why everything is covered up like some horror movie?”
“There’s less of a chance that things will get damaged if it’s covered in plastic.”
“And this came out of nowhere? You mean that Liam set it up?”
I crossed my arms. “Not something he’ll ever admit. He knew I wouldn’t accept money directly from him, but I’d be out of my mind not to accept payment for the furniture. Even splitting the money with Dani, we’re both covered for at least six to eight months.”
“That’s the best news I’ve heard all week. Except for him wanting to marry you, of course.”
“So you’re suddenly on his side now?”
“He’s a billionaire. He’s crazy about you. Things aren’t as screwed up as we thought.”
I threw my pillow at her. Tossing it with my left hand was not the best idea. It brushed against a group of shirts, knocking them down. I gave her a long look to gauge exactly where she sat on the whole matter. “So he’s off your jerk list then?”