by Krista Lakes
“Call back in two minutes,” Jack said into the phone. He didn’t wait for an answer as he set it down in the receiver.
“What if that was important?” I gasped, tearing my eyes away from his perfect mouth.
“It’s always important. If they want to talk to me, they’ll call me back. Now where were we?” He stepped forward again, his smile hungry. He was about to reach for me again when the phone began to jingle off its hook yet again.
“I think they want you almost as much as I do,” I said, glaring at the offending phone. Jack chuckled. He leaned forward and kissed me softly, our lips barely pressing together, but filling me with desire and the hope for more.
“I look forward to seeing you tomorrow,” he whispered, and then turned and stepped behind his wooden desk. The mask of power slipped over his features, turning him cold and indifferent.
I towed the empty food cart out, closing the door carefully behind me. The heavy wooden door blocked the sound of his phone conversation, and I sighed and leaned back against it. That kiss...
Butterflies danced in my stomach. I was giddy and happy, his kiss still lingering on my lips. It was like our first kiss all over again. In a way, it kind of was. It was our first kiss as a real couple, not two strangers on vacation. I wasn’t sure what was going to happen next, but all I could see for the future was good things.
Chapter 15
I smiled as the golden elevator whisked me up to the top floor of Jack’s building. I didn’t get to see much of Jack during the day, so the only time I got to spend any time with him was over dinner. After our first dinner, we quickly figured out a routine. The past couple of weeks, I would arrive at his office at a quarter to six and bring dinner with me. We would eat and talk, and usually end up kissing. We never seemed to have time for anything more than intense kissing, as every time we got close to going further, a business emergency would spring up. Jack did his best to clear out an hour of time so that we could eat together, but we were usually interrupted. It was like the phone was an overzealous guardian of our virtue.
I waved to Jeannette as I pushed a trolley full of food towards the big wooden doors. She smiled, her eyes bright and fingers quick on the keyboard despite her gray hair. She was used to our nightly dinners and was always friendly. Jack opened the door to his office, letting me in. His hair was messy, as though he had run his fingers through it one too many times. He looked worn and tired, but his eyes were shining as he smiled at me.
“I don’t know how you keep this all straight,” I said, waving my hand over the unruly stack of papers covering his desk. He grimaced and grabbed my hand, leading me over to the couch on the far side of his office. The wheeled trolley followed me dutifully with two silver food covers ready to be opened. I pushed the tray so it made a little table in front of the couch for the two of us to eat off before sitting next to him. He made sure I sat close to him, our bodies almost touching but not quite. “What are you working on today?”
“No work for a little bit. You are my break from work.” He kissed my cheek, smiled and lifted the tray to reveal a salmon and risotto dish that smelled heavenly. His knee bumped mine and stayed there, pressed against my leg.
“Did you get my picture of that dog today?” I asked, taking a bite of the salmon, but my thoughts entirely on how nice it felt to touch him.
“I nearly spit my coffee across the board of directors,” he said with a laugh. “Best part of my day, other than right now.”
I grinned and took another bite. Since the camera on my new phone surpassed the abilities of my actual camera by a great deal, I was having a blast taking pictures of things I found in the city. Dean and Rachel kept me busy during the day, sending me to various well supervised events throughout the area. If something appealed to me, I would take a picture and send it to Jack. At first I thought it might be too silly for a busy man, but he always asked for more. He seemed to live vicariously through the pictures I took throughout the day.
“The woman said it designed by a groomer in Queens who does only specialty cuts.”
“If we ever get a dog, can we please never die it blue and give it a lion’s mane? Please?” He laughed. My breath caught in my throat for a moment at the implied future. I was about to tease him about possibly going with a tiger striped look instead, but a knock on the door interrupted me.
His secretary poked her head inside, a crisp gray bun at the nape of her neck. “I’m very sorry Mr. Saunders, but Mr. Ryans is calling from Saudia Arabia. He says it is urgent,” she said. Jack sighed and set down his meal. There wasn’t much left, as he had wolfed it down. My own plate had only been nibbled on.
“Thank you, Jeannette. Tell Owen I’ll talk to him in a moment,” he said with a sigh. Jeanette nodded and gave me an apologetic smile before closing the door. “I’m sorry to do this to you... again.”
“You are very busy. I don’t know how you juggle all of the transition details as well as the day to day stuff. I’m just glad I get to see you at all.”
“You are too sweet. I have stolen you away from your life and friends, and all I can give you is an hour a day, and not even a guaranteed hour!” He shook his head. I could see guilt weighing down on his broad shoulders.
“Hey, I’m having a great time. Rachel and Dean have been keeping me busy. I saw the Statue of Liberty today. I never thought I was going to see it, let alone have a special tour. I’m finding a routine, and we’ll make this work. Rachel is even coming up with a way for me to help you get through all this,” I said, motioning to the crazy stacks of papers threatening to overwhelm his desk.
“What is she having you do?” Jack’s brows came together as he stood and moved towards the blinking light on his desk.
“I’m not sure yet. I told her I was going to go stir crazy if I didn’t have something productive to do. I’ve been here almost two weeks and I don’t want to be a burden. I want to help,” I explained as I began to put the dishes back on the tray.
Jack beamed at me. “You are the exact opposite of a burden. I don’t know what I would do if I didn’t have these evenings to look forward to.” The little light flashed faster and he glared at it.
“Will you be coming home tonight or sleeping here again?” I asked as I headed towards the door. I realized he was a busy man, especially right now, and that he often found it easier to spend the night at his office. If he did come back to the apartment, he always came to see me. Two nights before, he even slept in my room. We had intended for more, but he fell asleep as soon as he hit the pillow and I enjoyed watching him sleep. It wasn’t much, but I treasured any time I got to spend with him.
“I don’t know yet. Depends on how long this takes.” He jerked his head towards the angry flashing light. “Don’t wait up for me.”
“Come wake me up if you do make it back. I have more pictures of that dog to show you.”
I pushed the trolley to the door and left, hearing him pick up the phone and switch on the commanding voice he never used with me. I waved goodbye to Jeannette as I headed towards the gold elevators leading back to the main entrance. The older woman waved back as she spoke into her headset. I was quickly becoming accustomed to the silent waves and the smiles over business phone conversations.
Once in the elevator, I hit the button and leaned on the ornate sides. I was having a wonderful time in New York, but some days, I barely understood what I was doing here. These dinner visits were the highlight of my day. I knew Jack and I had a connection, but I wasn’t sure if we could ever actually make this work. There wasn’t anything for me to do, except spend Jack’s money and bother Rachel, and neither of those things were in my nature. I needed something to do.
***
I lay in bed, comfy in my worn PJs, debating opening the newest copy of The Press laying on my nightstand. I was emblazoned on the cover, thankfully wearing one of the beautiful outfits Rachel deemed suitable, walking around the city. It had been on one of my recent shopping excursions with Rachel. She wielded a cr
edit card like a magic wand and enjoyed finding things for me to wear. If nothing else, our excursions gave me something to do, and I was forming a friendship with Rachel. I had stopped looking at price tags after the first store rang up my three pairs of pants at more than a month’s pay with overtime. Rachel never batted an eyelash at the numbers, letting the purchases pile up in the chauffeured car.
I flipped open the cover, landing on the article about me. Rachel had placed a large sticky note over the first paragraph with the words, “are you sure you want to read this?” I smiled and lifted it off the page. I liked Rachel. She had a subtle sense of humor that caught me off guard. She was fiercely protective of Jack, and the love and respect she had for him only made me like her more. She had grown up in a smaller town than mine, and we spent much of our shopping excursions swapping stories about home. She was quickly becoming the older sister I never had, and I was more than grateful to have her with me in this strange place.
Emma LaRue—the mysterious woman who has stolen the heart of a billionaire! See what her friends and family have to say! exclaimed the headline. The “friends and family” were people I barely knew. My real friends and family had signed confidentiality agreements and weren’t speaking to the press without approval. Emma’s best friend from elementary school, Hannah Smithson, remembers her being a shy and studious girl. “I always got along really well with Emma. She was easy to talk to.” Hannah? I hadn’t spoken to her since third grade and we were convinced there was a unicorn in the woods behind the school. I shook my head at the lengths the tabloids were going to in order to get a story.
The magazine had a few more pictures, obviously snapped from sidewalks as I hurried out of the winter air into stores. I wondered how cold those photographers had gotten waiting for me to emerge from a store. Spring was on its way, but winter still had an icy grip on the city’s weather. The last page of the article had a short note at the bottom: Do you have any information on Emma LaRue? The Press would love to hear your stories! Call to inquire about our payments for photos! Jack’s father’s policy of do nothing and keep everyone quiet was working so far, but the entire tone of the article made it clear that readers were clamoring for more. It was a strange feeling.
I set the magazine back on the nightstand and checked my phone. I loved my new phone. I had spent the better part of a day setting it all up and playing with all the games and features, and I still found new and fun things to do with it. I had one unread message from Jack.
I grinned and opened it like it was a present.
Not going to make it home tonight.
Not quite the present I was hoping for. I could feel the pout on my face as the question rose in my mind again. What was I doing here? While I loved my dinners with Jack, my days were full of boredom. Rachel promised to find me a job at the company so that I could at least feel useful, but even then, working for Jack wasn’t what I wanted to do with my life. I missed my job at the Vet Clinic, missed working with animals and the people that came with them. For the millionth time that week, I wondered what was going to happen once all the publicity of our pseudo-marriage was finally sorted. I knew Jack had lawyers looking into the validity of the marriage, but we both knew it wouldn’t stand up in a court of law. We had never intended it to.
My phone chirped. I’m going to make it up to you though.
How?
Tomorrow night. Wear something fancy. I’m taking you to La Maison.
I grinned. La Maison wasn’t the fanciest restaurant in New York, but it was pretty close. More important than the fanciness of the restaurant was the significance it held for Jack. La Maison was the restaurant that his father always took his mother for special anniversaries. It was where Daniel proposed to Bianca, so having Jack take me there meant something.
Do I get you all to myself?
I told Jeannette she’s fired if she interrupts us tomorrow.
I’ll be there with bells on. I typed back. I hit send and turned off the light, snuggling into the soft down comforter. I would have to have Rachel help me pick out something; tomorrow was going to be a great day.
Chapter 16
I was a princess, a beautiful, only slightly slutty, princess. I smoothed the fabric of my dress over my knees as the car stopped in front of La Maison. The driver hurried out and opened the door, helping me out onto the sidewalk. I saw the people on the street turn and look at me, and was once again glad Rachel had helped me pick out my outfit.
The dress was a fitted black fabric that somehow shone purple in the light and had a slit up my thigh that my father would have considered indecent. It was made by a designer whose name I could barely pronounce, but who Rachel said was the biggest thing in fashion right now. I took a step and wobbled, but the driver reached out a hand to steady me. Rachel had chosen the shoes as well—black strappy stilettos that made me feel as tall as a New York skyscraper, but not quite as stable. Between the slit and the shoes, my legs looked long enough to make swimsuit models jealous.
My hair was piled in effortless looking curls that cascaded down my back. It had taken the hairdresser almost two hours and was anything but effortless. Rachel had procured me a diamond necklace with matching dangling earrings that I couldn’t afford if I used every paycheck in my lifetime. The jewelry was gorgeous, but I had this nagging fear that the earrings were going to slip out of my ears, or the chain would break on the necklace and I would lose one of the sparkling stones. I could just see them falling off and bouncing down the street as I scrambled to chase them in my insane heels. The tabloid headlines would be spectacular. As a result, I checked impulsively every minute or two to make sure the jewels hadn’t abandoned me.
The restaurant was in a tall brick building from the 1920s. It screamed old money, and it was beautiful. I stepped inside, glad of the warmth in the restaurant. Someone took the simple black wrap Rachel had chosen to complete my ensemble and we headed into the main part of the restaurant.
Every eye in the restaurant followed as the maître d’ escorted me to the table where Jack was waiting. I sent a silent, Thank you, up to Rachel for making sure that they all saw something fashionable and worthy of a billionaire.
I suddenly understood how Cinderella felt arriving at the ball. Every head in the restaurant turned and watched as I floated gracefully through the tables. For once in my life though, I didn’t care that they were looking. The dress gleamed in purple highlights as I approached the only eyes that I cared about. Jack stood as he saw me, his mouth hanging open slightly. Our eyes connected, and I was Cinderella meeting my Prince.
Jack moved to greet me, pulling out my chair and waiting on me like a gentleman. As I approached the table, Jack reached his hand out for mine, to guide me into my chair and I reached back for him. Time slowed, and for a brief second, everything was perfect. I never touched his hand though, as a guest at the next table suddenly pivoted and took my picture.
The flash was blinding and I stumbled in my ridiculous shoes. I caught myself on the back of the chair, lights suddenly flashing from all directions. Jack had the first man’s camera in his hands, but more popped up, their flashes lighting up the room like broken lightning.
Cameras were everywhere, the waiters and guests making everything chaotic. There were too many cameras pointed in my direction. I panicked and turned to escape back the way I came, but the flashes were everywhere. I took a step forward, but a light went off directly in my eyes and I ran directly into something hard. Wheeling to catch myself, my shoes betrayed me and I fell to the ground. I came down hard on my wrist, a yelp of pain escaping. The restaurant went quiet except for the clicks and buzzes of cameras.
Suddenly strong arms surrounded me, picking me up and scooping me away. I buried my face into Jack’s chest, smelling his cologne, feeling his arms tighten protectively around me as he whisked me away towards the kitchen. His chest vibrated with a growl and I didn’t dare remove my face from the protection of his jacket. I could still hear the flashes popping as we disappeared
behind the serving door and the startled yells of kitchen staff as Jack barreled through towards the back alley.
He stopped at the back door, the only sounds following us were of the kitchen staff chopping and sautéing. The photographers were yelling at the kitchen door, but security held the door closed. Jack set me down gently, making sure my feet were firmly planted before pulling out his phone and hitting a number.
“In the alley! Now!” he growled before slamming the phone back into his jacket pocket. I kept holding onto him, my fingers clinging to the starched white fabric of his dress shirt. A car peeled into the alley and Jack opened the back door and hurried me out into the blustering winter night, carefully shielding me from the wind as we stepped to the car.
“Are you alright?” He asked once we were in the car, his voice low and gruff. I couldn’t see his face in the dimness of the car, but I could hear the anger in his voice. I nodded.
“I think so. I hurt my wrist, but, I think it will be alright,” I said as I held onto the offending wrist with my opposite hand. It had a dull ache, but nothing a couple of pain relievers and a night’s sleep wouldn’t fix.
“Let me see,” he said gently. He reached over and took my wrist in his hands. They were so warm compared to the cold outside. He squeezed gently, his fingers searching for any injury.
“You’re shaking. Carl, turn up the heat!”
“I forgot my wrap at the restaurant,” I said quietly, suddenly remembering I didn’t have it. With my free hand, I checked the earrings and necklace to make sure I still had them. I felt a small sigh of relief escape my lungs at finding the jewels still secured to my body. Jack kept running his fingers along the sensitive skin of my inner wrist, making me forget the pain. It didn’t hurt anymore, but I didn’t take my wrist back from him.