He opened the trunk and handed me my garment bag. I stood on the sidewalk with my head bowed, stuck in place as if by some form of energetic super glue.
“I’d like to see you again,” he said, closing his trunk.
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“Why?”
“God, Billy. It’s just not a good idea.” My head started to throb. I stomped my foot and bit my lip while I rubbed my temple with my free hand. He was the only man I had ever truly loved, and he was driving me insane. All I wanted to do was go take a hot shower, slip under my blankets, and sleep for the rest of my life.
“I know we both still have feelings for each other. Don’t tell me you didn’t feel it in that kiss,” he said.
“That was never our problem,” I said, pausing. “We have nothing in common and… you consume me.”
He moved toward me, shadowing me in his presence. His hands gripped my shoulders and he brought me toward him. I couldn’t fight it, even if I wanted to. And I didn’t, not really. No matter what I kept telling myself, or him, I wanted him so bad my body called out to him even with my splitting headache.
His lips pressed against mine, gently at first. His tongue flicked over my lips asking to be let inside. I parted my mouth, opening to him, allowing him in. He held me so tight. His newly formed strength only added to the sense of losing myself in him.
He pressed his tongue deep inside me, filling me, overwhelming me as only he could. I clung to him, my headache waning. Our mouths clasped to each other like two starving shipwreck survivors who’d just been given food. Need exploded within me. I could feel him rise hard against my stomach, and his firm muscled chest crushed against my breasts.
“Ask me inside,” he commanded. It instantly brought me to my senses. Billy and his commands. Even as a broke nerdling he’d been so bossy. Now, billionaire William Black probably always got what he wanted. Well, it wasn’t going to work with me.
“Not tonight,” I said, pulling away. I walked to my door and slipped inside before he could say a word.
Chapter Two: William
I parked my Porsche in the underground parking lot of OpenPortal’s ten story building in downtown Seattle. I got in the elevator, and it whirred up to the tenth floor where my office was located next to Daniel’s. He and I had retained a partnership even though we’d had ideological differences at times. He’d proved to be invaluable as a business partner for his understanding of design and user interfaces.
The elevator door swished open to reveal the wide open reception area for the top executive offices of our building. High, white-tiled ceilings sparkled with modern recessed lights. Muted gray walls framed massive floor to ceiling windows that looked down on the city.
The reception desk was a cool gray with a white and gold speckled counter. To the side was a seating area with red sofas and chairs surrounding a glass table.
Gwen, the pretty blond receptionist, smiled at me in greeting and informed me that Daniel and the other C level executives were already in the conference room.
I straightened my tie and opened the back door into the conference room. A collection of brilliant men and women sat in high backed chairs watching personal computer screens and the wall monitor with a feed from the main programmer area.
Sliding into the chair at the head of the table, I looked down at the monitor in front of me. The update installation was at 25% with no errors reported. Excellent. I sat back in my chair and thoughts of Zoe fought for my attention.
When I looked back down at my monitor, the installation was at 50%, and we’d had five upload errors. Daniel spoke animatedly to a programmer downstairs through the two way monitor on the wall. What had I missed? I hadn’t been this distracted in years.
The update that should have taken five hours, took twelve hours. With all the corrections we had to make, OpenPortal was down for two hours in the Midwest due to server lag. It was a disaster. Already, bloggers were writing scathing articles predicting the end of our social media dominance.
At nine in the evening, I finally made it home. My cook had left dinner for me in the refrigerator. I reheated the meal in the microwave and took it to my office. Photos of Zoe filled my screen.
I shoved a forkful of pasta in my mouth and zoomed in on an innocent looking portrait of her from when she first started modeling, back when we had been together.
The revelation that she had not gone through with the abortion changed my perceptions. Since seeing her at the charity event, I’d been determined to get her back into my life. But with the knowledge that she had not made the decision to terminate her pregnancy, made me wonder if I was going about this the wrong way.
I’d harbored anger for her through the years, even as I’d practically stalked her online. The old pain and hurt never really had gone away.
I took a bite of garlic bread and wiped my mouth with a cloth napkin. Zoe deserved better. I had to change my tactics.
Chapter Three: Zoe
The intercom buzzed from downstairs. “UPS, package for Zoe Parker.”
I buzzed him in and waited for the knock at my door. When he arrived, I signed for the box and brought it inside. There was no return address on the outside of the box. I hadn’t ordered anything and had no idea what it could be.
After placing the box on the dining room table, I went to the kitchen to get a knife. With the knife in hand, I cut open the tape to reveal the contents of the package.
Inside the cardboard was a knee length semiformal silver and white gown with matching heels. I gasped, thinking it must be a mistake. I checked the tag. Dresses by this designer were thousands of dollars apiece. I hadn’t been able to afford something like this for quite some time.
I pulled the dress from the box and a note fell to the floor. I knelt to pick it up.
Zoe,
Come with me to the symphony on Saturday night. You don’t want to miss this performance.
Love,
William
I picked up the dress and pulled it from the plastic covering. My eyes widened at the loveliness. I couldn’t resist the smile that crept across my face. I wanted to put it on, even though my head told me to box it up and send it back.
Not listening to the cynical part of my brain, I slipped out of my yoga pants and tank top and slipped into the cap sleeved dress. The silver brocade, princess bodice fit my curves perfectly, and the white tulle skirt cascaded beautifully to just above my knee. I twirled around the dining room like a little girl in her first party dress.
My phone buzzed with a text message.
My car will pick you up at eight.
I sighed, considering sending the dress back and telling him to go fuck himself. My hand ran over the intricately detailed pattern on the bodice and down the dreamy tulle skirt. Darn it. I wanted to wear this dress to a symphony; although, I had no interest in classical music. I had to wear it somewhere and that seemed like as good a place as any.
The truth was, I desperately wanted to see Billy again. His kiss had left a permanent mark on my lips, my brain, and my heart. The same mark that had been there for the last five years. No matter how much I tried to fight it, I wanted to be with him again.
My fingers flew over the touchpad on my phone.
Okay, I responded.
See you then, he sent back.
Saturday night, I swept my hair in a loose up-do with curls framing my face. I applied subtle smoky eyes, a light bronze blush, and glossy peach lips. Years of modeling had taught me to apply makeup and to do hair almost professionally.
I slipped into the dress and shoes, checking my phone every fifteen seconds for the time. A cold shiver of terror lingered just below the surface of my consciousness. The man I longed for all these years had nearly destroyed me. Here I was again, playing right back into his hands.
At exactly eight, the buzzer on my intercom sounded through the apartment. I nearly jumped out of my skin, even though I had been anticipating the sound for the last half hou
r. I buzzed him up and paced the apartment waiting for him to arrive at my door. Stacy was out on a date with the guy from the charity auction so she couldn’t make fun of my nerves.
There was a knock, and I crossed the room to open the door in two seconds flat. I flung it open and found William standing there in a black suit with a lux black tie. He whipped a bouquet of red roses from behind his back and presented them to me.
My heart pounded against my ribs and thudded in my ears until I was almost deaf. Why was I so affected by him? I was magnetically drawn to him but at the same time repulsed. I knew that if I let myself get close enough, I’d be stuck to him forever. I would never get myself back again.
I took the roses and he followed me inside as I wordlessly stepped into the galley kitchen and put the roses in a vase.
“This place looks almost exactly the same as the last time I was here.”
“Not all of us became billionaires in the last five years,” I said, placing the flowers on the kitchen counter that faced the open living room. “As I recall, you used to live in a basement. My place was a step up.”
“True,” he said with a dismissive tone. “Shall we go?”
He motioned toward the door, and I grabbed my clutch and wrap and led him out to the hallway. In front of the apartment building, a gleaming black town car waited for us. The driver opened the door, and we slid onto the leather upholstered seats. A bottle of champagne waited in an ice tub. William poured two glasses and handed one to me.
“What should we toast to?” he asked, holding his glass at chest height and gazing into my eyes.
“I have no idea.”
“To new beginnings then,” he said, clinking my glass.
“To new beginnings,” I muttered. I felt so divided. I was acting like a surly teenager. This dress didn’t deserve my unenthused attitude. I took a swig of champagne and told myself to lighten up. I’d agreed to the date. There was no point in resenting it.
William smiled at me and sipped from his glass, patting my knee with his other hand. I smiled back, struggling to let myself enjoy the date. He was trying pretty darn hard. I had to give him that.
We arrived at Benaroya Hall — a building with a massive rounded façade of glass that reached from street level to the fourth story roof. After we stepped out onto the sidewalk, we filed toward the door with the rest of the crowd. Everyone was dressed in semi-formal attire for a special event. I wondered what was happening but didn’t see any signs to tell me who was playing.
Walking into the foyer, I looked up at the massive glass sculpture that hung from the impossibly high ceiling. As I gazed up at the blue and gold lights reflecting off the twists and turns of the blown glass sculpture, William handed me another glass of champagne from a passing waiter.
I took the fluted glass as I was offered oeuvres from another waiter. I plucked the salmon and goat cheese on a cracker and popped it in my mouth. Another waiter offered me a delicate mini quiche.
By the time we made it up the stairs and into the private booth overlooking the stage, I felt warm and satiated from delicious food and expensive champagne. A smile curved on my lips and when William reached to take my hand, I let him hold it. His hand was smooth and strong, sending a tugging feeling throughout my body.
The rows of descending seats below us filled, and a low hum of talking filled the air with electric excitement. The orchestra began to warm up and a hush fell over the audience as the lights went down.
“What is this?” I finally asked, leaning in to speak in his ear. I could smell the spice of his cologne. The energy coming off his body made me want to fling my arms around him and sink inside him forever. He turned his head to speak in my ear, his breath tingling on my skin.
“Just wait,” he said.
The curtain rose and a lone black grand piano graced the stage. A woman, dressed in a red evening gown that made her brilliantly red hair look even redder walked on stage, took a short bow, and sat at the piano.
Recognition swirled in my brain as the first ferocious notes were struck. Memories of her frenetic piano playing flashed before my eyes. My sister Regan’s expert rendition of some classical composition I had no clue about filled the hall.
“It’s my sister,” I said, leaning into Williams shoulder.
“I know, silly. Why do you think I brought you here?”
“To give me a Pretty Woman moment?” I said sarcastically.
I’d thought Regan was a lost cause five years ago. Knowing she was doing so well cut me to the core for some reason. Why did sibling rivalry have to last for so long? Her success seemed to make my failures come into focused detail. Her playing had become profound and heart wrenching. The melody haunted me as the vibration of the notes and cords pounded against my chest.
After the concert, we moved through the foyer and around to the back stage where we were allowed through. My heart beat wildly, knowing I was about to see my sister. She knew what I did for a living and as far as I knew, she knew about the fiasco with my ex. No one knew about Billy.
We were led to a dressing room where William knocked on the door. A familiar voice from within, beckoned us inside. I held my breath as the door opened. Regan’s bright green eyes widened when she saw me, and I knew I probably looked just as shocked.
She swept me up in a hug, and I could smell the powdery perfume on her pale skin. Regan was as tall as me. Claire had been the short one in our family, but Regan’s bust was substantially larger than mine, and it crushed into me as she hugged me.
Letting me go, she said, “Zoe! I’m so glad you made it. I meant to tell you I’d be in Seattle, but the tour has been so hectic. Thank you for coming. I’ve missed you so much. Introduce me to your friend.” Her voice was high with excitement but the manic extremes I’d been so used to with her were not there.
“This is William Black…”
“William Black of OpenPortal? Oh my God. No wonder you look so familiar. How in the world did you two meet?” she asked, shaking his hand.
“William and I have known each other a long time,” I interjected before he could say anything.
Regan introduced William to her husband Ian. We all chatted for an hour and promised to visit each other and Claire soon.
As we left the opera house, I felt over excited and restless. The town car drove us to a high rise building and we got out.
“This is where I live,” he said, taking my hand and leading me into the lobby. We took an elevator up to the top floor and entered a foyer before he opened the huge French doors that led to his penthouse.
Inside, I took in the massive space. Everything was perfectly designed in masculine, modern furniture in steel and glass with hints of old world traditional throughout with dark woods and dark leather.
He led me into his gleaming kitchen full of professional grade appliances and cookware. It could fit my entire apartment inside it. I sat at the counter while he checked hot plates of food from a warmer.
“My cook leaves me dinner. I asked him to make two tonight.”
“Convenient.”
“It’s better than microwave burritos,” he said, smiling.
He pulled a summer salad with strawberries from the fridge and set it in front of me. He let the main course stay in the warmer and he sat down beside me with his salad and a pitcher of fresh lemonade. Whoever his cook was could make a damn good salad. And after three glasses of champagne, I was glad we moved to something nonalcoholic.
When we finished the salad, he served me the main course, which was just as delicious. After dinner, we shared a slice of chocolate cake and he opened a bottle of chardonnay. I sipped on the chilled wine while he gave me a tour of his massive penthouse.
Every room had a full wall of windows looking out on one of the landmarks of the Seattle area. From the huge living room I could see Mount Rainier. From the dining room, I could see the Space Needle. And from the bedroom, I could see Puget Sound.
I was transfixed by the view of the dark water unt
il I turned around and looked up at the wall across from his king-sized, four-poster bed. There I was, nude as the day I was born, on display in William Black’s bedroom.
A wave of nausea hit my stomach hard, and I almost dropped my wine glass. I turned to leave the room, marching toward the door without a word. William caught my arm, stopping me from escaping.
“What’s wrong?”
I felt panic prick my entire being. I looked up at his handsome face, and his hazel eyes drew me into him. I placed my palm on my forehead and looked to the ground, pointing toward the painting with the hand that held my wine glass.
“You knew I had it. What’s the matter?”
I felt like I might puke on his shoes. I was so exposed. I felt like an object on display, not a human being. Why didn’t he see it? Why didn’t he see how him having this photograph made me feel? I gulped air, trying to regain my self-control. I looked up at him, my face burning red.
“Don’t you get it?” I said, disgusted. The truth was, I couldn’t even articulate how violated it made me feel that he had that picture of me in his bedroom. “Do you, like, masturbate to me at night or something? Do your lovers see me when you fuck them?”
“I haven’t had anyone up here since I bought it.”
I made a disgusted noise and broke away from his grip, stomping toward the entrance. I slammed the wine glass onto an expensive looking side table and grabbed my clutch and wrap.
“I’ve got to go.” I said, reaching for the door knob.
“Wait, Zoe. I didn’t know that photo would upset you so much. If I’d known, I never would have bought it. The truth is, I’ve missed you a great deal. All this time. I think about you almost every day. When I got the chance to have a piece of you in my life, I took it.”
“Well, you could have just called.”
He stepped into me and put his hands on either side of my face, drawing me up into a kiss. His body pressed me against the door while his tongue dipped into my open mouth. Sweet surges of desire shot through me, rendering me instantly turned on. I melted into him. The champagne and wine had lowered my inhibitions and opened me up.
Condoned (Beauty And The Billionaire Geek Book 3) Page 2