by Celia Aaron
His brows pinched together with concern. “What is it?”
For all the dark past he had, Jack had made his mistakes in his youth. I made mine much later and kept on making them. But there was no turning back now.
I shook my head. “Nothing. I’m just… I’m in sales mode, is all.”
He believed my lie and dropped a kiss on my forehead. “Don’t worry. You got this.”
The band began to play, softly at first and out of tune. Bess’ assistant caught Jack’s attention, and he went to assist her with some last-minute issues. I hovered by the pool as the band got their feet beneath them. They played a current top forty hit, the lead vocals ratcheting up as she sang about the cliché of love and loss.
I passed them and returned to the lobby entryway. A server offered me a drink. Not yet. Later? Yes. But not now. Bess stepped up beside me.
“Showtime,” she said and downed the same drink proffered by the waiter.
The scene was set. Headlights flashed through the glass doors, then another set, then another. People began filing in. Brokers and buyers, hard to tell who was who. I affixed a smile to my face and began greeting. After that, the night moved quickly. Introductions, sales pitches hidden in talk of luxurious lives, offers and counter-offers. The room grew louder, and the band competed with the sound of the guests, who numbered well over a hundred. I moved through the crowd, shaking hands with well-dressed new money and casually-dressed old money. I poured wine, I told jokes; I would have stood on my head if it would have gotten the place sold.
Even without any acrobatics on my part, deals were made. Each time I knew I had one sold, I’d motion for Jack. He’d bring a contract and mark the unit from our list.
I took a few of the guests up to the model units and showed them around the amenities. Jack was there in my peripheral vision, keeping up with any deals. I felt calmer, more confident just knowing he was there.
My outfit worked almost too well, with a few brokers and buyers getting handsy on occasion. With the small sea of booze flowing through the building, that was to be expected.
Jack was nearby each time, and each time I saw him clench his jaw and move toward me through the throng. I averted disaster by side stepping the offender and continuing my sales pitch. No hard feelings, though Jack seemed ready to break a few of the men’s wandering fingers, if not more.
The night was moving smoothly, sales coming at a steady pace. I had begun to relax just a bit as I saw the finish line looming up ahead.
“Rochester, baby!”
I turned toward the pool area. Gray stumbled through the crowd, knocking over a waiter as he barreled forward.
“You getting it done?” His words slurred as he openly gaped at my breasts.
I smiled even bigger at the closest guests who were staring at Gray as if he were a particularly vulgar form of insect. I grabbed his arm and led him to the end of the bar.
“What are you doing here? I told you I have it under control. Please go back upstairs.” I hissed.
“Got the penthouse sold?” he asked before tossing back the nearest tumbler of whatever.
Shit. I felt fairly certain I would get the sellout tonight on every other unit. But no one had expressed any interest in the top floor, even after the tour with the three-sixty views and the fabulous amenities. It was probably priced too high. But now I had too much skin in the game to try and negotiate a lower price with Gray. He’d want something in return. Something I no longer felt willing to give him, not now that Jack was in my life.
“I’ll get it sold. Please go upstairs.”
“All right, little Rochester. I’ll go. But if you don’t have results and a full sellout by the end of the evening, your time’s up. Deal’s over.”
I gripped his arm hard. “That’s not the deal. I still have another week after tonight. You gave me two whole months.”
“Deals change, Rochester. Tonight or time’s up. Tick tock.” He snapped his fingers.
“Everything okay?” Jack walked up behind me.
“It’s fine, Jackie boy. Run along and play.” Gray’s voice was sharp, cutting through the surrounding noise as sure as a knife.
“It doesn’t look fine.” Jack kept his tone low, but menace was in the notes.
“What would you know about anything? Where are you from again? I can tell by the way you talk you’re from the gutter somewhere. Probably got all kinds of handouts to get to where you are, right? Did your mom drive a Cadillac maybe, when she went to use her food stamps?” Gray sniggered into his glass. “You know, one time, I hired one of them, Eden. I did. I was trying to be equal opportunity. For my secretary. But she didn’t play ball. I’d always wanted to get with one of them. See if it’s different, you know? But she wouldn’t even give me a little sample. Can you believe that?”
I wanted to shove him off the barstool. My stomach churned. I turned to look up at Jack. His façade was gone. Rage was in his face, but not the sort that burned. The cold kind, the kind steeped in disgust and loathing.
“Please leave.” I said with all the force of my anger in the words.
Gray smirked. “Tick tock.”
He rose and wove to the elevator.
Jack stayed at my back, tension rolling off him like a hard rain sluicing down the turrets of a house.
“Jack, I’m sorry—”
“It’s fine, Eden. Just sell it out, okay? That’ll put that piece of shit in his place more than anything I could ever do. Or would ever do.”
I faced him. He was wound tight. I realized nothing I could say would erase Gray’s words. I shoved down the shame—both mine and Gray’s—and reached out to shake the nearest broker’s hand.
Jack picked me up and twirled me around. “You did it!”
The night was over. All the units were sold except the penthouse.
He put me down, his hands still at my waist. “Well, you almost did it. But we still have a week, so that penthouse is sure to go right along with the rest. You make a few calls, maybe show up to some brokers’ offices in that little number you’re wearing.” He frowned. “On second thought. No, you should definitely go fully clothed.”
I realized that even in the short time I’d known him, he’d grown somehow. He still kept a lid on his worst emotions, but not the ones like joy and love. The ones he seemed to have right now, he let go free. He had so much potential to become even more. The smile in his bright eyes cheered me, though I didn’t deserve it. I’d failed.
Bess flitted behind us on her way to the elevator. “Congratulations, you two.”
I gave the best smile I could muster. I didn’t have the heart to tell them I’d botched the whole thing. Gray had already laid down the gauntlet in his belligerent, drunken haze. There would be no extra week for me to sell the penthouse.
The hope I’d had to pay off Mason died in my breast the second the last broker left the party. There was simply not a buyer willing to spend that much on the top floor. I wanted to collapse into a heap and curl in on myself until I was small. Too small for Mason to bother with. But even if I did that, there would still be Adele. He would come after her, still thinking there was some money left in the Rochester name.
Now that I hadn’t sold out the building, Mason would forever be there, threatening. And since I’d lost Gray as a client, I wouldn’t be able to pay Mason enough to keep him silent. He would take me to court. Adele would know. Mother would know. Hot tears welled in my eyes before I could stop them.
“Hey, can you guys help with the ice sculpture?” Bess’ assistant called. “We’re afraid it’s melting onto the wood floors.”
Jack put me down and I dropped my eyes so he couldn’t see my tears. He and Bess dashed off to save the crumbling tower.
One of the event workers came up to me. “Mr. Poole said he’ll be in the penthouse and that he wants to speak with you.”
I tilted my head back and willed the tears away. Jack and Bess laughed and yelled as they and several others worked on maneuvering t
he ice sculpture out into the pool area. I couldn’t put this off. Gray would have the last word. He always did. I strode to the elevator and took the quick ride to the top.
Gray sat on a white divan, a glass of red in his hand. He was slumped forward slightly, showing his paunch of a stomach encroaching over the waistband of his pants.
He had poured another glass and left it on the wet bar. He gestured to it when I walked in. I took it, downing it without hesitation. I poured myself another from the open bottle. If he’d offered me something stronger, I probably would have taken it. Anything to ease the ache set off by losing the one chance I had to get rid of Mason.
“Sit, Rochester.”
I was too tired and too beaten to even protest the command in his tone. I sank down onto the overstuffed sofa and kicked off my heels.
“You did well tonight, Rochester. Really well.”
“Not well enough.” I took another long draught. “Sold everything but this glorious penthouse suite.”
He looked around. “It is quite nice.”
“Yep.” I wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible and go back to my room to lick my wounds. “If that’s all—”
“It’s not.” He stood and came to sit next to me. “Just so happens I have a line on a buyer for this place.”
“What? Who?”
“Me.”
Another game. Gray loved to play his games. I took a sip of wine.
“Oh, don’t be a sore loser. You still have the rest of the night to sell this place. I am being sincere when I say I want to buy it. I think it suits me. You know Jean and the kids would love it here.”
“Are you saying that you’ll buy the penthouse tonight and make good on our deal?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” He put his hand on my knee. “But you’re going to have to sell it to me, Rochester.” His eyes moved from my face, down to my breasts, and then down to the vee of my thighs. “It’s not like it’d be the first time you gave me a little quid pro quo for a deal.”
I screwed my eyes shut. Instead of the usual Mason standing there, it was Jack. His earnest eyes sought me out. I didn’t want to disappoint him. I knew I would.
Gray’s hand moved up my thigh.
I focused on Jack. I imagined his smile, the dimples that gave way to a more boyish look on him.
Gray took my wine from my hand and placed it on the coffee table.
Jack’s look turned grave. The word ‘no’ was on the tip of my tongue.
But then there was Adele.
Gray pushed me back onto the couch.
Adele, braces, smiling, happy. No Mason there to threaten her, to hurt her. She would never know how she was conceived, would never know any of it. If I could just finish this deal, just give in to Gray one more time, I could have them both—Jack and Adele.
His mouth met mine as he settled on top of me. He tasted of alcohol and cigarettes.
Only this one time more. Just this one time and it’ll be over.
He groaned and squeezed my breast through my top. “I like it when you play along.”
I opened my eyes. This is all wrong. I wouldn’t betray myself again. I couldn’t, not now that Jack had come into my life. Adele and Jack were my future, not Gray and his dirty deals. I grabbed his shoulders and tried to push him off.
“What are you doing?” He tried to cover my mouth with his again, but I turned my head. I wasn’t doing this. I would find another way.
His wet lips sealed to my neck. “Don’t play the tease.”
“I don’t want this.” I pushed harder.
“Yes you do. You’ve always wanted this. This is how you do business.” He wrenched my mouth back to his and sank his tongue inside.
Was he right? Not anymore.
“Eden?” Jack’s voice.
I broke away from Gray’s smothering kiss. Jack stood just outside the elevator. Disbelief in his eyes at first and then anger and then, worst of all, pain.
Gray sat up and sputtered as I scooted away from him.
Jack advanced like a hurricane, all fury. In one smooth movement, he lifted Gray from the couch and slammed him onto the floor. Gray gasped for breath as Jack settled on top of him, his fists swinging in a torrent of violence.
Gray struggled and tried to hold his hands up in defense. Jack swung through them, roaring with rage as he rained down blow after blow. When Gray finally found his breath, he let out a piercing scream.
The sound shook me out of my disbelief. I jumped to my feet. “Jack, stop.”
He either didn’t hear me or ignored me.
Sick thuds echoed around the room as Jack swung and connected with Gray’s face again and again.
“Don’t you ever touch her, you sick bastard!” Another blow, and Gray’s blood shot out across the shiny wood floors.
“Jack!” I screamed and tried to grab his arm. “Stop, you’ll kill him!”
He reared back, his bloody fist poised to do even more damage.
“Jack,” I cried and tried to hold his wrist. “Please.”
He froze as Gray covered his face and groaned.
Inhaling a deep breath, Jack lowered his fists and got to his feet. I stumbled back and fell onto the couch.
Gray turned to his side and curled up in the fetal position, air whistling through his broken nose.
Jack turned his hands over and stared at his bloody fists, the look on his face changing from one of anger to horror.
It gutted me. “I’m sorry. Please—”
“You.” He rubbed his ribs at the spot where I knew the thick black bars were inked into his skin. “You took me back to that place.”
Tears welled, obscuring him from my vision until I blinked and they rolled down my cheeks. “No. I wasn’t going to do it. Not this time.” I got to my feet and stood in front of him, parts of me dying under his withering gaze.
“Not this time?”
“You have to understand—”
“I understand it all. You, Gray, the games you play. I thought—” He laughed, the sound hollow and harsh. “—I thought you were this strong, amazing woman. But really you were just a trick looking to score.”
I took his hand. “That’s not true. Not anymore.”
“You broke me down to violence.” He pulled away. “Took me somewhere I vowed never to go again. All so you could close a deal.”
“It’s not like that.” My voice broke.
He shook his head slowly, then turned on his heel and walked to the elevator.
I felt the pain that flowed through him because it reverberated in me. “Jack, please, don’t go. Please. Just let me explain.”
What have I done?
He didn’t say a word as the elevator closed, and I lost sight of him.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
JACK
Six months later
BESS PERCHED ON THE corner of my desk.
“Any big plans tonight?”
I stopped typing my notes for our next design project and leaned back. “Nothing too special.”
She twirled a lock of hair around her finger. “Going out with Diana?”
“Yes. She wants to see a movie.”
“How’s the whole dating life going? Seeing anyone else?”
“You sure are curious all of a sudden.”
She let the lock of hair fall and gave me a frank expression. “I’ve been curious for the past six months that you’ve been working for me. For the first couple of months, I could barely get two words out of you unless it had to do with work. You won’t tell me what happened with Ms. Rochester. You won’t take her calls. And now you’ve been seeing this Diana St. John for a little while. I just want to check in and see what’s going on. Are you happy?”
“I’m happy working with you.”
“That’s not what I asked and you know it.”
I wasn’t happy.
Atlanta was a dynamic city. Bess was a great boss. When in her natural, unstressed state, she was friendly and winsome,
not the harsh perfectionist she displayed for her clients.
Xiao and Co.’s staff had welcomed me with open arms. I’d hit my stride with my design work, my more utilitarian tendencies meshing well with her flair for high-end wow factor. In the past month, we’d designed the interiors for a new high rise in downtown Atlanta.
The listing broker had already sold every unit, and it wasn’t even set to hit the market for three more months. In the short time I’d been with Bess, her business had tripled.
Our office was at the edge of downtown in a glass building near a park. The daylight streamed in at all angles and made our work somehow brighter. My walls were covered with drawings—both mine and Bess’—of the work we’d been commissioned to do for the various real estate projects throughout the city and elsewhere. I was in my element.
After work, when I fought traffic to get to my tiny Midtown flat, things weren’t so rosy. I drank and painted until late into the night, my works growing darker with each passing day. I began to welcome the solitude. My new prison cell was far more livable than my old one. Here, at least, I could do what I pleased.
Ms. Temple called every few days. She’d finally given up on asking me what happened at Belle Mar. I didn’t think she’d ever give up on asking me to come back home to Birmingham.
“I just miss you is all.” Ms. Temple’s voice cracked on the last word.
Her pain glanced off my heart. I didn’t truly feel it. “I miss you, too.”
“Could you come to visit maybe, sometime soon?”
No. “Maybe.”
“It’s been too long, and you never want me to come see you there even though it’s only a few hours—”
“I told you. I have to work. We have a lot of projects going at the same time.”
She sighed. “I know. So you tell me. Look, Jack, I don’t know what happened between you and Eden, but she’s been coming to see me every week. Every week she pours her heart out to me about you, about Adele, about the court case with Mason. Couldn’t you just come b—”