Secrets Vol. 2

by Ella Steele

  “Fine,” I say and his dark laughter gets cut short. “Let’s accept it. You and I are alone. We rely on no one. We sleep alone, if we sleep at all.”

  “What are you getting at?” he asks.

  “Just that life doesn’t have to be so damn lonely.” My eyes meet his and I can’t look away. Those endless pools of blue pin me in place. Inside my mind I’m pleading with him, begging him to let me in, but I say nothing. There’s nothing more to say. Standing, I turn to him and rest my hand on his shoulder, and pause. There are so many things I want to say. I feel the words in my mouth, but I say none of them. My hand slips off his shoulder. I walk away and Cole lets me.

  CHAPTER 17

  Weeks pass. I shoot at the studio and the only person to keep me company is Regina. I try to work, to take care of the clients as best I can, but my mind keeps returning to Cole. I can’t get him out of my head. Picking up my phone, I walk back into my room, and pull up his number. I’ve done this so many times, but I never press the button. As I sit down on my bed, I hold my thumb over his name. One touch and it will call him. I’ll hear his voice again. Sitting perfectly still, I know I can’t do it. There are too many things with him, things that can’t be said over the phone. I have to be there to convey them in person. Why I let weeks go by is beyond me. Maybe I am a coward. Annoyed with myself, I throw the phone on my bed and pull on a pair of jeans and a tank top. I yank my hair into a ponytail and head toward the garage for my motorcycle.

  The ride into the city passes in a blur as I think about what I’ll say, what excuse I’ll give for showing up on his doorstep unannounced, but I can’t ignore it anymore. The closer I get to Manhattan, the darker and cooler it becomes until tiny droplets of water fall from the sky. The streets become slick as glass. The little sunlight that was left is gone and the street lights turn on. By the time I pull up in front of Cole’s building, the sky has opened up and I’m totally soaked. My black tank clings to me like a second skin. My jeans are holding an extra ten pounds of water, making them feel stiff and heavy. I park the bike and slosh to the door. Before I can step inside the doorman stops me.

  “Cole Stevens,” I say and try to walk past him.

  He’s standing under the portico, perfectly dry, and doesn’t let me pass. He glances at me once and says, “I’m sorry, but Mr. Stevens isn’t expecting anyone tonight.”

  “I know,” I reply, pushing my sopping wet hair out of my face. The guy looks at me like I’m nuts. “I didn’t tell him that I was coming. Can you just tell him that I’m here?”

  He shakes his head, “I’m sorry Miss. Better be on your way.”

  I’m about to protest when I see the valet pull up in Cole’s black car. I turn toward the doors with a slow smile spreading across my lips. Finally, something is going to work in my favor. Cole will step outside and see me. We’ll talk and everything will be better.

  But that isn’t what happens. Cole walks through the door dressed in a black tux. He looks stunning. My lips part as my jaw drops and it’s all I can do to keep breathing. The way its cut, like it was made just for him, showcasing every angle of his perfect body. His dark hair is smoothed back, away from his blue eyes. He extends his elbow and a woman in a red gown follows him out.

  Just as reality slams into me, just as I realize her couture dress and shoes, her status—Cole sees me. The expression on his face falters as our eyes meet. I feel the desire in that gaze, the pull on an imaginary line that runs between us. That same line that’s been tugging me back to him ever since he left. But Cole doesn’t say anything. He keeps walking, and helps the beautiful woman into his car. When her door closes he looks up at me.

  Our eyes meet and I feel like I’m going to be sick. In every single way possible, I don’t compare to her. Her elegance, her grace, her fluid movements scream of refinement that is the prideful trademark of the wealthy.

  Before I can walk away, Cole says to the doorman, “Show her in. I’ll be back shortly.”

  The doorman nods, surprised, “Yes, Mr. Stevens.”

  I’m deposited on the doorstep of Cole’s apartment and walk inside. It’s vacant.

  Shivering, I wait in the kitchen, dripping on the floor, thinking he’ll be right back. But Cole doesn’t come right back. I wait in my sopping wet clothes, overemotional and tired. After grabbing a few towels, I set them beneath me and sit on his couch.

  Before I realize what’s happened, Cole’s voice is in my ear. “Anna, wake up. We need to get these clothes off you. You’re freezing.”

  Bleary-eyed, I looked up at him. He’s still wearing that tux. I feel horrible and completely frozen. My arms are plastered close to my body and I can’t stop shivering. I let him pull me to my feet and turn on a hot shower for me. By the time I finish, it is well after one in the morning. I wrap the towel around my body and walk out into his room.

  Cole has removed his jacket and tie. The crisp white shirt is open at the collar. Cole is sitting in a blue leather chair in the corner of the room, his hand on his temples.

  When I step into the room, he looks up. His eyes soften, “Feel better?” I nod, clutching the towel to my chest. “Good. You want tell me why you were riding your motorcycle in the rain?” he says, and anger vibrates in his voice.

  “It wasn’t raining when I left.”

  “It was stupid, Anna.” His voice is clipped, tension lines his shoulders.

  I mutter, “I do stupid things, Cole.” Like continuing to think about you when you obviously have better things to do. I want to fight. I feel it inside of me, the tension waiting to explode.

  He glances up at me. His expression is soft, serious, “You’re staying here tonight.” It’s a statement. A fact.

  “I am?” I don’t want to leave, but something about the way he says it grates.

  “You are. Let me get out of this and we can talk.” He rises and goes to his closet. He grabs some clothes and tosses me a white tee shirt. “You can sleep in that.”

  I put it on while he’s in the shower and climb onto his chair. I’m so cold, I can’t stop shaking. Cole takes forever in the shower. At least it feels like forever. Between being an emotional lunatic, the long ride into the city, and the rain, I can barely keep my head up. Resting my head on the arm of the chair, I fall asleep again.

  Cole’s voice rouses me, but I don’t fully awake until I feel his hands slide under my cold skin. “I can’t let you freeze in a chair.” He deposits me in his massive bed and buries me beneath blankets, but I still shiver. After a moment, I feel him sit next to me. His hands move down my sides, tucking me into the blankets so tightly that I can’t move.

  He looks down at me, “Better?”

  I nod. “Thanks.” I don’t know how I feel. I don’t know what I want. Part of me wants to just lay here and see what happens.

  My heart flutters when his hands tuck the blankets. Did he really put me in his bed? The last time I was here, Cole gave me a guest room. This time he is sitting next to me and we are in his room. In his bed.

  “I hope I didn’t mess up your evening. She was very pretty, Cole. I’m really sorry.”

  He glances away and says, “You didn’t mess up anything.” His voice is soft, like he wants to say more about it, but he doesn’t. “So, what was so important that you drove here in the rain?”

  I try to shrug but I’m cocooned in blankets. Drowsiness is pulling at me hard. My eyelids feel like lead. “I had a bad feeling that something was wrong. It just felt like you needed help. I can’t explain it. It makes no sense. So I jumped on my bike and came to make sure you were okay.”

  He’s looking straight ahead when he answers, “You have impeccable timing… keeping me from making hideous mistakes.” He grins down at me, dark hair falling into his eyes.

  “Mmmm, maybe—but she looked way less than hideous to me.”

  Cole laughs. His entire face lights up. “God, I missed you, Lamore.”

  And I know he means it. I don’t press him on who the woman was, because I’m the
one who is in his bed.

  Cole lays on his side next to me and I can feel the change in him as we lay there and talk. The tightly wound muscles in his neck seem to relax as minutes turn into hours. Sleep pulls at me, but I don’t surrender.

  After a while, I roll onto my side and we’re facing each other. Cole’s head is on his pillow, his bright blue eyes blink slowly like he’s exhausted. “You’re right,” he says.

  “About what?”

  Smiling, he lowers his dark lashes and replies, “Everything, Anna.”

  There’s a pang of pain in my heart when he says it. They are the words I’d hoped to hear, but not the right tone. His voice says he can admit it, but I know he’s still holding me at arms-length, in the safe zone.

  There is no way to get closer to Cole, and I know that’s where I want to be.

  CHAPTER 18

  Stretching, I blink a few times as my heart pounds in my chest. I gasp and sit up quickly.

  “Forget where you were?” Cole asks from the leather chair. He’s already dressed, sitting with an e-reader on his lap.

  Breathing hard, I smile sheepishly and relax. “Maybe,” I grin. He’s smiling now, watching me.

  “I never thought I’d get you in my bed, Lamore,” he jokes, shaking his head. That soft smile makes his eyes shine like he’s happy.

  “Yeah, well, even you have to get lucky once in a while,” I laugh. My fingers caress the silky sheets. The thread count has to be close to a zillion. They feel like butter, soft and supple under my palm. I fall back onto the pillows and look at the ceiling. “I’d better get going. My boss is going to be pissed. I didn’t call in sick today and I’m going to be close to three hours late by the time I get there.” I stare at the ceiling, noticing it has a pearlescence that makes the room have a soft glow.

  “Yeah, I heard he can be a dick. You might want to hurry up and get out here, take care of your clients, and maybe he won’t chain you up in the basement for being so damn late…well, not for more than a few nights anyway.” The corner of Cole’s lips pull up. It’s a sexy smirk that makes my stomach flip. His fingers tap the e-reader, and he lifts it, his eyes scanning the lines, but I saw the screensaver and know it’s not even on.

  When he looks up, our eyes meet. My heart shudders like I’m being electrocuted. Our gazes lock and heat sears through my stomach and between my legs. The room suddenly feels overly warm. I want to push back the blankets and walk away. I don’t want him to have this effect on me, especially because it seems to be mostly one-sided. I can’t hold him like that. Hell, I can’t even get him to kiss me. These thoughts run through my mind as his blue eyes bore into mine.

  It feels like he can see every inch of me. I realize I’m not breathing and suck in a shaky gasp. My entire body is tingling. I break the gaze and throw my feet over the side of the bed and stare at my toes. What am I doing? Why am I chasing this guy? He’s too screwed up to ever be with, and yet—I can’t walk away.

  “Lamore?” he says my name and I glance over at him. He’s leaning back in that chair like nothing happened, like he doesn’t feel anything.

  “Yeah, boss?” I pull my lips into a smile, but it feels hollow. I glance at him from behind a wall of frizzy dark hair.

  “What time is your last shoot today?”

  I think about it for a second and say, “Six. Mrs. Patterson wants me to shoot something sexy with her Pomeranian. You knew how bat-shit crazy they are out there, didn’t you? Sexy pictures with a dog. There must be something in the water…” I’m talking to myself now, shocked at the strange requests people have. It’s like no two people can agree on what’s sexy. “What the hell am I supposed to do with a dog?”

  Cole ignores my bewilderment, “I’ll come by at eight and you can show me your work. I’ll help keep you on track when stuff like this comes up. The best way is to shoot it the best you can and then talk about what to do next time. And since I failed to feed you breakfast, I’m taking you to dinner.” He sets the e-reader down as he’s speaking and stands. As he finishes the last word, he’s standing in front of me. “Assuming you eat dinner and don’t have other plans?”

  The spot between my brows pinches and I look up at him. He’s holding a white slip of paper between his fingers. It has ten black digits and the name JESSE OWDEN, slightly crumpled and linty from a spin through the washer and dryer. I glance past him, annoyed that he went through my clothes, but I can tell he washed them for me. My clothes are folded neatly on Cole’s dresser. The paper was left in my pocket and got soaked, but any idiot can tell what it was.

  “Not tonight,” I hedge, not wanting to say anything. I stand and realize that he’s much taller than I am. I pluck the slip from between his fingers.

  “Want to tell me who he is?” he asks, his arms folding over his chest, his head tilting to the side like I’ve done something wrong.

  I mirror his pose. Folding my arms, I tilt my head, and say, “Want to tell me about the hot chick in the red gown?” We stare at each other, each of us driven to hide our secrets. The tension in the air is thick, coating us until my hairs are standing on end.

  Cole folds first, “Well played, Lamore.” His arms unfold and he looks into my eyes. The gaze is so vulnerable, so sweet that I can’t believe it belongs to Cole. “I’ll see you at eight.” With that, he turns and walks away, leaving me alone in his room to get dressed.

  CHAPTER 19

  During the shoot my brain is all over the place. I can’t focus. The little dog yips every time I go to fix the pose. Posing dogs is like trying to teach a Frisbee to walk.

  “Regina, please reset the dog,” I say, pressing my temples with my fingers. For a split second I imagine myself fanning a brides train and the happy couple smiling back at me. Then I look down at Mitsy who thinks biting constitutes talking. She nips at Regina as she repositions the dog by her master’s hand.

  The pose is perfect. I chose the white set and have the client laying face-down on satin sheets. She’s propped up on one elbow slightly. The pose shows off her curves without being too revealing. It’s the kind of pose that looks seductive. It works perfectly for her. Everything is white on white, with layered textures. Linens, lace, throws and silk pillows are strewn through the set. It’s completely perfect. Even the little dog helps pull the shot together. His snow white fur adds just the right about softness, but the little beast won’t sit still.

  Regina picks up Mitsy. The little dog bares her tiny teeth and is very unhappy to be placed back on the bed. Regina runs off the set and I shoot. Working fast is new to me. Normally, I take all the time I need. When I think I have the shot, we move on. The final piece is going to be a high key black and white. Everything is pale from the client’s skin to the dog’s fur. She wears nothing but a white thong. Her implants make her look like she is twenty, even though those years of her life are at least a decade behind her. She holds the dog in her arms, its fur concealing helping conceal her breasts. The dog is happy in her arms and the owner looks straight back into the camera, staring at the lens. The finished product will be striking.

  Later that night, Cole arrives and thumbs through the unprocessed shots with me. When he gets to the end of the shoot he stops and looks at the poses with the dog in her arms more carefully. He leans in close to the screen with me sitting in front of the computer.

  He taps a pen to his lips, “Open it.” I double click the image and it opens in an editing program. “Show me what you plan to do.”

  My hand moves on the tablet, clicking settings and altering the image to black and white. I adjust a few settings, run a few of Cole’s actions to smooth her skin, and then pump up the contrast. “What do you think? The dog threw me for a loop. I didn’t know what to do with it, and the stupid thing wouldn’t sit still.”

  He leans over my shoulder, his gaze on the screen. He puts a hand on my shoulder. It feels warm and strong. His scent fills my head and I think back to last night, to laying in his bed and sleeping right next to him.

  “I t
hink this is amazing. I mean, people ask us to do and shoot all sorts of things, but this—damn Anna…” he strokes his chin, staring at the screen. “You even made the dog look sexy.” He laughs and looks down at me.

  I beam, “Thanks, Cole. That means a lot to me.” The weight of his hand suddenly feels like something more. My skin tingles and I want him to touch me, to stroke my face with his hand. Cole watches me with that expression that I can’t read.

  He pats my shoulder before stepping away, “No problem. I knew you had a talent for this before I even met you. Some people just have it. You’re one of them. You’re lucky, Lamore.”

  “Yeah, well, not so much. Actually, me and luck are strangers. Maybe even enemies,” I joke. I put things away for the night and shut down the editing program, the screen glows dimly before its light goes out as the computer powers down. I reach for the scattered pens and papers on my desk, and shove them into a drawer. “If I saw Luck on the subway, she’d probably mug me. Nothing lucky has ever happened to me.”

  Cole has that smirk on his face as he listens. He slides his hands into his pockets and tilts his head, “Oh, I don’t know if I’d say that. Luck’s the kind of thing most people notice in hindsight. It’s hard to see it in the moment.”

  I stop what I’m doing and turn to look at him. He’s oozing with boyish charm. Everything from the way he stands to the curve of his mouth makes my heart race. I shake my head, trying to evade his charms. Why am I tormenting myself by hanging around him?

  “And at this moment, am I lucky? Is there something happening that I can’t see?” I pull a folder to my chest and wait for him to answer.

  “Maybe,” he says, voice soft and sensual.

  My eyebrow lifts. I stand there for a moment at a loss for what to say. I hug the folder tighter. His eyes drift toward my hands before he turns away, nodding his head toward the door. “Come on, Lamore. Dinner. Now.”

  I place the folder down and follow him out. As my hand flips off the lights, I wonder when I became so obedient and discover that I don’t care. If it means being around Cole, and seeing him happy, I’ll jump when he snaps his fingers. At least a little. It goes against every fiber of my being to let someone else be in charge, but with Cole, it feels comfortable.