by K. J. Lewis
“What’s your timeline?”
“I’d like an answer next week.”
We say our goodbyes, and I’m already thinking about it on the elevator ride down.
“Hey,” I say, surprised to see Reid waiting for me in the lobby. “I was hoping to get to talk to you before the benefit tonight.” Standing this close to him, I’m reminded of what it feels like to be in love with this man. I think about how I haven’t spoken to him in five days, and I reach for him. My hand falls back to my side when he speaks.
“Elise, you’re fired.”
“What?”
“You refuse to acknowledge my role in this company. In your life. This isn’t going to work.”
“What are you talking about, Reid? I’ve been trying to reach you to talk.”
“Elise, I’m not willing to share you. I want your all. You, however, want to give it to Theo, to the team, to any case that is urgent. To the man you were with yesterday.”
“What man?”
“I saw you, Elise. I came home early. Only you didn’t stay at my place at all while I was gone, and then I see you in front of the restaurant.”
“I can explain.”
“I heard it. I heard you both when you were explaining it to that girl. You have a four-week clause during which you will continue to work and appropriately hand off your cases. I received a request for a consultation that you will handle tomorrow. Other than that, you won’t be assigned any new cases. Ryan will take the lead when he returns from leave.”
“Reid.” I take a step towards him.
“Goodbye, Elise.” He turns and walks away.
How can my place feel empty when she was only here a couple of nights? I pick up the strawberry chapstick still on the bathroom counter and run it over my lips. It tastes of her. Christ. Pull it together man. I toss the tube back onto the counter next to her things. There’s not much, but I guess I should have Coop send them back to her.
It’s only been a couple of hours since I left Elise standing in the lobby of Taylor Organization. I release the towel around my waist and drop it in the laundry basket inside my closet. I have no desire to go to this benefit tonight. The last thing I want to do is put on a tux and talk with anyone. The reminder of Elise on my lips is enough to have my dick at full staff. Traitor. I ignore it and dress for the event.
I know it was childish not to answer her calls, but I was frustrated. And angry. And childish. I’ve never wanted someone more than they want me. I mean, I’ve chased pussy before, but only as a means to an end. With Elise, I want her. All of her.
When I saw her yesterday looking at that fucking guy like he hung the moon and stars, it took all I had in me not to pummel his ass. And even though that girl seemed totally crazy, neither one of them denied her accusations. I know Elise. I know she didn’t turn off her feelings for me and move on to someone else that soon, but the fact remains, I need her heart and she wants to fill it with everyone she meets.
It takes me three attempts to finally get my bowtie looking halfway decent. Coop is waiting for me when I get into the car.
“Would you like me to take care of getting Miss Donovan’s suitcases to her, sir? They’re still in the trunk,” he asks as he pulls into traffic.
“I suppose so, yes.”
The glance he gives in the mirror lets me know he thinks I’m a dumb fuck, but I don’t care. He pulls up to the red carpet, and I steel myself to make the walk alone. This is an event that Taylor Organization throws each year. Last year’s was cancelled at the last minute after a devastating loss to the organization, and to Graham and Emme, specifically, when Emme’s first intern Reggie, was shot and killed on the way to the event. Her bodyguard and friend were hit in the crossfire. I was surprised they were doing it this year, but Graham said Emme was insistent on following through with the program Reggie championed.
Flashbulbs blind me, and I compose a fake smile that I’m sure is fooling no one.
Graham and Emme are just inside the door greeting guests. I have to admit, I never thought Graham Taylor would settle down. But I understand what finally drove him to it. Emme Taylor is a sight to behold. She’s wearing a backless gold dress that leaves nothing to the imagination in the front. Her pregnant body is on full display. I don’t make a habit at looking at another man’s woman, but Adam is right. Her breasts are magnificent in that dress. She’s made more beautiful by her smile and cheeks so round, if she were a five-year-old you wouldn’t be able to keep yourself from pinching them.
“Reid.” She greets me with a hug. I return her hug, my hand touching her bare back. I pointedly make a “this is heaven face” over her shoulder just to piss Graham off.
“Oh my God. Don’t get him started,” Jules, Adam Taylor’s wife, catches my smile and laughs, pulling me into another hug. “I’ve already heard it from him a hundred times tonight.”
“I’m not crazy about this dress,” Graham mumbles.
“So you’ve said.” Emme rolls her eyes.
“I think you look magnificent. It actually feels wrong to think a pregnant woman can look this sexy.”
“Reid,” Graham growls. An actual growl. It would cower a regular man. But I grew up with this silly fucker and am not intimidated in the least.
“It’s silk,” Jules says. “It’s meant to show every dip and curve. You did that to her boobs. Not me.”
“This is what happens when you knock me up, honey.” Emme places a soft kiss to his cheek, and I suddenly think of Elise. Graham wraps his arm possessively around Emme, his hand resting protectively on her bump.
“I hear congratulations are in order.” Jules pulls the conversation back to me. “Elise Donovan,” she clarifies. “I hear you two are an item.”
“Emelia,” Graham reproves.
“I know what I saw, Graham. So, are you going to pursue it?” she asks me, dismissing her husband.
Adam’s shoulders slouch when I don’t answer. “Dude. You fucked it up already.” He shakes his head.
“Maybe she fucked it up,” I suggest.
“Not possible and watch your language,” Ruth Taylor says, hugging me. “Reid, how are you? I had lunch with your mother when I was at a conference in Boston a few months ago.”
“Graham, my water broke!” Emme says in a rushed breath. We turn to her as one and see the bottom of her dress is a darker shade of gold.
“Mom!” Graham lifts Emme into his arms.
“Women have babies all the time dear,” Ruth reassures him.
“Graham, put me down. I can walk.”
“I’m surprised he doesn’t have an ambulance following her wherever she goes,” Patrick says, coming to stand next to me. Jackson Hollingsworth, Emme’s best friend, laughs, pulling his husband’s body to his. “She’s three weeks early. I don’t think he had that on the plan until two weeks out.”
Within seconds there’s an entire entourage surrounding us: Graham’s security team, a couple that appears to be Emme’s parents, four men that Graham keeps calling “dwarfs” for some reason, and several others I don’t recognize.
“Looks like it will be a full waiting room.”
“That’s Emme. Heart so big people can’t help but love her.” Patrick smiles and Jackson places a kiss of adoration to his temple.
I excuse myself from the commotion and find Dean and a couple of our buddies drinking near the bar. Word has spread that the hosts are making a rather interesting exit. Maybe I can sneak out, too.
“Were you able to save the deal?” Dean asks when I set my drink on the tall table.
“I was. It’ll wrap next week.” I take a long sip of whiskey. It provides just the right amount of burn.
“Holy shit,” one of the guys says, looking across the room. When I turn in that direction, there she is. Elise. She’s walking this way, and she looks like the fuck of a lifetime on legs. How is it possible for a dress to be that revealing, but not showing any skin at the same time? It’s a deep green, high-neck gown that looks like it was s
culpted to her body. I can see the curve of her breast and her nipples. I shift my stance in an attempt to reposition my now-hard cock.
“Dean,” she smiles and reaches up to kiss his cheek. Her dress is cut deep on her back, and I’ve run my tongue up her ass enough to know it’s an inch away from being exposed. My fingers grip my drink so tight, I fear it might shatter in my hand.
“You look edible,” he purrs, and suddenly I understand Graham’s need to punch Adam all the time. Fucking brothers and their fucking warped sense of humor.
“You look handsome.” She straightens his tie.
“Elise Donovan.” She greets our friends when we fail to introduce her. I glare at them in a way that lets them know I will cut their balls off if they don’t stop looking at her that way.
“Elise.” Gabby comes up and hugs her friend. “You look… well, you look fuckable.”
“Gabby.” Elise raises a brow as a warning to her friend. “Reid.”
It takes me a minute to realize I am being spoken to. She waits until I acknowledge her. “I wanted to introduce you to—”
“Babe, you’ll never guess who was in L.A. while we were,” Amber says as she walks up and slides her arm around my waist, kissing my jaw. I want to cringe at how wrong it feels, but because I see the guy Elise came with walking up, I make no move to stop her.
“Amber.” I say her name in an attempt to get her to stop talking.
I want to kick my own ass for the look on Elise’s face right now. Dean’s isn’t too far off, and I’m pretty sure Gabby is one breath away from taking my last one.
“Sorry, I saw someone I know.” The man she came with walks up and plants a kiss to her temple.
“No worries.” She smiles at him, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. When his hand falls to rest on her hips, I want to break his fingers. “Ready?” she asks him.
“Didn’t you want to intro—”
“Another time.” Elise cuts him off and shakes her head at Gabby, who promptly halts whatever she was about to say.
“Nice meeting you,” she says to the guys and takes the man’s hand to leave.
“You were in L.A. with her?” Dean asks through clenched teeth.
“Amber, we were not in L.A. together. We were on the same flight.”
“Reid.” She seems actually shocked by my version of the story.
“Amber, I told you then and I’m telling you now, we’re over.” Her face turns crimson to match her dress, and a second later I’m wearing my whiskey.
“Well that seems fitting.” Ross walks up and pins me with a stare.
“Would you all excuse us, please?” He asks. While everyone walks away, an image of my balls hanging on their Christmas tree comes to mind.
“What the hell are you doing man?” Ross takes a drink from a waiter.
“Where’s Theo?”
“Schmoozing. Want to talk about it?”
“No.”
“Fine. I’ll talk, you listen. Theo has the capacity to love more than one person, but his sun rises and sets with me. He is a better man because of Elise. She has known him since he was five. She readied him for me, and for that I couldn’t be more grateful for her. The man I love and who loves me with all his heart is protective, wonderful, kind, and stubborn as hell, and I have her to thank for it. So, no. I’ve never felt threatened enough to push him away. I felt blessed and held him closer.”
He places his hand on my shoulder as a sign of support. Or pity. Or both. “You’re too good of a guy for me to not tell you, you’re fucking this up.”
I wake up with yet another hangover. After Ross’ words of wisdom, I left the benefit and came home to an empty house and a full bottle of bourbon.
I try to stop the pounding in my head and kick the empty bottle on the way to the bathroom. Jesus, I haven’t drunk like this since college.
A shower and strong toothpaste finally abate me of the smell of alcohol. My housekeeper takes pity on me and fixes me a home remedy that strips the enamel off my teeth, but I finally feel like I am back in the land of the living.
When I get to work, I see that the team seems to be settling into their office space well. Today is Elise’s first day in our actual office, but my excitement to show her the office I had designed for her has dissipated. I spoke with Ryan on the way in. His sister is home and resting. He sounds miserable, like he hasn’t slept in days. I, of course, have no words to offer in support, but I feel obligated to check on him every couple of days. I know it would be important to Elise. A knot forms in the bottom of my stomach. It’s not that I was a complete and utter asshole before Elise, but I doubt I would have taken the time to involve myself before her.
Elise is waiting by the elevator when I walk up. Before she sees me, the guy I’ve seen her with twice now comes through the revolving door and calls her name. He lifts a scarf in the air and I hear him tell her she left it at his place last night. I’m certain I only have myself to be mad at that Elise went home with that guy last night. The thought that anyone else got to peel her out of that dress drenches my mood faster than an ice bath.
I leave them talking in the lobby and take the next elevator up, ignoring everyone who speaks to me along the way.
“I was hoping you had a minute,” Elise states, entering my office several minutes later.
“You’re late. Your first appointment is in the conference room.”
“I didn’t have anything on my calendar. Remind me why I am taking on a new client? I thought I was to start closing them out?” She looks startled by the shift in conversation. I hand her the file.
“He wouldn’t take no for an answer, and he asked for you specifically. Brooks Anniston is high profile and knows a lot of people.” Her silence brings my focus from my computer back to her. She looks … small.
“Reid, I can’t take this case. I need you to assign it to someone else,” she pushes back.
I don’t yield. “I’m not Theo, Elise. You don’t have a problem understanding that any other time.” A childish dig, I know. “This isn’t a ‘pick the ones you want to work’ and ‘pass off the ones you don’t’ kind of place. I’m not going to baby you.”
“Reid, you don’t understand.”
“Elise, you’re late.” I cut her off before she can elaborate. Her face displays an internal battle I don’t understand. She turns and leaves me in the office.
I’m pissed at myself for thinking this day was going to go differently. I had resolved to listen to Ross and try to talk with Elise today. Clearly that is no longer a viable option.
Thirty minutes later I’m coming back from my main office on the top floor, and Elise’s guy is in the front lobby. I have no idea where the receptionist is.
“Could you tell me where I can find Elise?”
“You’ll need to wait for the receptionist. I don’t make a habit of knowing my employees’ locations.”
“I’ll do that. I don’t know why my sister can’t send a simple text when she’s running late. An unfortunate habit she learned from our mom, I guess. I’m Knox by the way.” He extends his hand and I take it out of engrained politeness. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Elise has told us all about working for you. She speaks highly of you. You’ve earned her respect. That’s not always the easiest thing to do. She’s a fixer. Cautious by trade.” He smiles and rocks on his heels. “She also told me about your relationship. I assume this is where I have the big brother talk with you, ask you about your intentions with my little sister.” His smile is wide and inviting.
“Would you excuse me, please?”
I leave him standing there to go in search of Elise. The conference room is empty as is her office. The assistant has unpacked her things already. I glance at the pictures. Besides the ones with her team and Theo, they are all of Elise with an African American family. One of her on her graduation day. One on New Year’s 2013 with the family of five holding up sticks with mustaches, oversized glasses, and lips attached to them. One with a beautiful girl that, based
on the age, I assume is her sister, Bren. And one on a beach with Knox. He is flexing his muscles, and Elise and her sister are faking a yawn of indifference.
My pace increases on the way to my office to see if she is waiting for me there. I pull my phone out of my pocket to dial her number.
“Who the fuck let Brooks Anniston in here?” Theo thunders in a tone I’ve never heard before.
“I don’t have the time to argue with you, Theo. He needed a team and I took him on as a client. I had Elise meet with him earlier. I’ll fill you in later, but right now I need to talk to Elise.”
Theo puts a hand to my chest. “Elise met with Brooks Anniston? And she was okay with that?”
“What is the problem with Brooks Anniston?”
“Where is she?” Gabby bursts into the office.
“Who?”
“Elise. She told her assistant she was coming to your office. I want to know who the hell this Anniston guy is and why he put his hands on her.”
“What are you talking about?” Theo and I both question her.
“Her assistant said she came back to her office with a handprint on her face. When she asked her what happened, Elise left saying she was coming to your office.”
“What the fuck was Dylan Richman doing here?” Blake barrels in with a look of a man intending to do harm. His hands are full of pictures. They’re of Elise. I snatch them out of his hand. They’re of Elise in a hospital. She has bruises on her mouth and neck in the outline of a hand. There are bite marks on her breasts and legs, and bruising and dried blood on her thighs. I can hear the blood whooshing in my ears. My whole body begins to violently shake as I register what the pictures mean.
“You let Dylan Richman in here?” Theo’s eyes narrow on me and his voice is an eerie whisper.
“Everyone stop.” My hands bring everyone to a halt. “Let’s work the problem, people. What’s wrong with this Anniston guy and who is Dylan Richman?’
“Anniston is Elise’s biological father,” Theo says.