by Jessica Wood
The impulse to lunge at her and make her feel the pain she’d caused me coursed through me. But the shock paralyzed me in place. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t even speak. Then my thoughts went to Jackson—my husband, the father of the baby girl that was growing inside me. He was inside that room, and the thought of how close he was to me at that very moment made me physically ill, a feeling I’d never thought I’d ever feel.
It was Amber who finally broke the heavy silence between us.
“Why are you still standing here?” Her scathing gaze moved down the length of my body and her smirk widened.
Then I watched in confusion as she looked down and unbuttoned the top button to Jackson’s shirt. As she continued on to the next button, she looked back at me through her lashes, her eyes dark and devious. Then she let out a loud, purposeful sigh.
“Oh, you poor thing. Are you upset you’d missed out on all the fun? Did you want to go down on me like Jackson did so you can see why he loves the taste of me on his tongue?”
I stared in shock at what Amber did next. Without any hesitation, she let the now-completely unbuttoned crisp, white fabric drop off her body and onto the floor, leaving her completely naked.
“You know what’s the perfect blend of honey?” she asked as she moved her hands down her full breasts, toned stomach, and completely shaven bush until she reached between her legs. She took in a sharp inhale as she fingered herself. When she took her fingers out, it glistened with her juices.
“The perfect blend is Jackson’s cum mixed together with my juices.” Her ruthless smile widened as she slowly licked her fingers, moaning in pleasure.
I wanted to throw up, but my body seemed to be frozen in place.
As if unaware of the disgust and shock on my face, Amber held her fingers out in front of me. “Why don’t you have a taste for yourself?”
Then she let out a hearty laugh. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not into girls, and never will be … but you just look so lost and pathetic right now, I really do pity you.” She flashed me a wide smile. “I figured it’s the least I can do to help you out, right?”
I finally managed to take a few step back as I stared at her fingers in revulsion.
“You’re a fucking crazy bitch,” I finally muttered out as I stumbled backwards away from her.
I was about to turn and run away when she said, “I knew you’d chicken out,” she said with a snort. “Once a loser, always a loser.”
It was then that I felt as if something had taken control over my body. Pure rage blanketed over the shock and pain inside me, and I felt my fist clench, my nails digging into my palm. I spun around and faced Amber. Before I knew it was happening, my arm swung out, my fist landing squarely across Amber’s cheeks. I heard a crunch at the moment of impact and watched as Amber’s face jerked to the left and she stumbled sideways and crashed against the wall.
Suddenly, I felt the shock that’d been paralyzing me give way to all the hurt and fear that filled my insides. My legs came to life and before I even had a chance to take in the blood running down Amber’s nose, I turned and ran as fast as I could away from Room #59—away from Jackson and away from the moment that’d just shattered my entire world.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Jackson
“Good evening, signore Pierce.” The man holding the door gave me a polite nod as I passed. “I hope your evening is well.”
“Graci. It’s been a very good one.” I smiled at him and thought about my day with Amber. I had been initially hesitant to meet her in Milan—the guilt of hiding this from Chloe had been tearing me up inside. But it was what Amber wanted, and I wanted to keep her happy so she didn’t hire me.
But our meeting hadn’t gone exactly the way I had planned in my mind when we made plans to meet in Milan, but I couldn’t deny that I was happy that I agreed to come. We both got what we had wanted.
As I turned the corner of the hallway leading to my room, a woman crashed into me.
“Signora,” I apologized, “Are you okay?”
To my complete surprise, the woman that looked up at me in confusion was Chloe. Her cheeks were flushed and tears were streaming down her face.
“Clo? What are you doing here? What’s wrong? Has something happened?” Panic seized my chest as my mind raced with horrible thoughts. “Is the baby okay?”
I reached for her arm and tried to check for any signs of what was wrong. But when I touched her, she flinched and took a step back away from me.
“Baby, what’s wrong? Please talk to me.”
The icy-cold glare she shot me sent a chill down my body.
“Why did you really come to Milan, Jackson?” Her voice was distant and unsettling.
“I told you. I’m here for work, to finalize and sign a contract for an acquisition here in the city.”
“That’s all?” Her tone was challenging and spiteful, and I felt a heaviness grow in the pit of my stomach.
“Clo, what happened? I’m really confused. Why are you here?”
She looked outraged by my questions. “Why am I here? You told me to come here! You texted me to tell me that you missed me so much and wanted me to fly in to stay with you tonight. And when I actually show up, I find you with Amber! Amber, of all people. And she’s wearing your dress shirt—your favorite one, the one I bought for you.”
She was in a state of hysteria, sobbing and hyperventilating as she got out her words.
“Clo, I think this is all a big misunderstanding. Amber’s just the client in that new project I’d been working on. Please, let’s go to my room, and we can discuss this. I’ll explain everything. Come on, I want to make sure you’re okay and not hurt anywhere.”
“No, Jax. I can’t go back in that room. How can you even suggest that when she’s in there naked?”
“You’re not making any sense. No one’s in my room.” My mind raced as I tried to make sense of everything. “Wait, did you bump into Amber?” I felt a surge of panic run through my body and wondered what crazy lies Amber had told Chloe. I knew Amber could be a little crazy and catty, but I couldn’t imagine her down-right lying about something. We’d been friends since we were kids.
“Yes, in your room.” Chloe’s voice had changed. She was no longer hysterically yelling or crying. Instead, her body slumped forward and she looked tired. It was as if every ounce of fight had left her and she was completely depleted.
“Baby,” I tilted her face so she’d face me, “look into my eyes when I tell you that nothing happened between Amber and me. I lent her my shirt because the airline had lost her luggage when she flew in, and we had an early meeting with the top executives of the company Amber is acquiring. When she arrived, none of the stores were open for her to buy clothes in time for the meeting. So I lent her the dress shirt and she wore that with the suit she wore on the flight.”
Chloe stared at me as she tried to accept the truth of what I was telling her.
“But what about the text you sent asking me to come see you?”
I sighed, wondering what Amber was thinking. “I never sent you a text to come see me. I haven’t been able to use my phone since this afternoon’s meeting when Amber….” Then it dawned on me that it was Amber, “…when Amber asked to use my phone because she left hers in her room. We were in the living room area of my hotel suite with Nick, my work buddy, whom you know. She said it was a private call, so she went to the bathroom to make it. When she came out, she said she accidentally dropped my phone in the toilet.” I pulled out my phone, which was in a small ziplock bag, from my pocket. “See it won’t even turn on anymore.”
“So she sent the text…” Chloe mumbled.
“Look, I don’t know what Amber told you, but she is not in my room right now. I think she’s in room fifty-something. My room’s down the other end of the hallway, Room 74.”
“Seventy-four?” There was a spark of hope in her question when she met my gaze. “So she lied to me?” Her face twisted with confusion as she tried to piece th
ings together.
“Yes, I think she did.” I helped her up from the floor. “Now come on, let’s go to my room and get you more comfortable.”
We walked down the hall in silence. I could tell she was thinking through everything because her body relaxed in my arms.
When we got inside my room, she threw her arms around me and began to sob. “So you’re not having an affair with her?”
I laughed. “Oh baby, definitely not. I love you, Clo. You’re the only one I love and the only one I can imagine making love to. I know I’ve disappointed you in the past before we started dating, but you have to trust me. You have to know that I have never been or will I ever be unfaithful to you. I would never do that to you.”
“Yeah, I know,” she said, almost in a whisper. “I’m sorry, Jax.” She looked up at me, and I saw the guilt in her eyes.
“Clo. I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you about Amber being my new client. It was right before we had our first ultrasound. The executives at my firm called us in and said we had a big, new client and one of the terms the client requested was that I be in charge of the project. The executives told me if I did well on this project, the VP position was mine for the taking. So of course, I agreed to take on this new project. I’d never led a project this big before. So it was a win-win. It wasn’t until after I agreed to head up the project that I found out Amber was the client, and she was the one who requested me by name. She had told me later that she did that because we had been friends since childhood so she trusted me. I had no idea she had these ulterior motives. I actually tried to get out of the project when I found out Amber was the boss, because I didn’t want to tell you and upset you. But when I talked to the executives, they said that’d be unprofessional and if I wanted out of the project, then I was out of the firm. With the baby coming, I knew I couldn’t lose this job for us.”
“But why didn’t you tell me?”
I could hear the hurt in her voice.
“I’m so sorry. I should have told you. I was just afraid that it’d upset you and stress you out every time I had to go to work because you’d be wondering what she was up to. Our doctor said stress wasn’t good for the baby, and I was worried it’d only bring unnecessary stress and anxiety for you, and that wouldn’t be good for you or our baby. So I had decided not to tell you because I was afraid you wouldn’t trust me. But now, in hindsight, I know I should have. I should have trusted in the strength of our relationship and know that we could get through it together.”
“I do trust you, Jax. I …” She sighed. “I just don’t trust her. I don’t know why but she just somehow knows how to push my buttons.”
“Yeah, I finally see that now. I never realized she’d take things this far.” My blood was boiling at the thought of Amber trying to hurt Chloe intentionally.
“She’s crazy.”
“I know, babe. The good news is, the project was finalized this afternoon, so I don’t have to work with her again. I think maybe tonight was her last desperate attempt to get at you. You know she’s always been jealous of you?”
“She has?” She looked unconvinced. “But she’s always been one of the most popular girls in school. She’s gorgeous, and now she’s a billionaire from her divorce. Why would she be jealous of me?”
“Because you’re genuine, you’re comfortable in your own skin, and you stole my heart from your first day at school. Those are real things, not superficial ones. Those are things she never had, and I think those are things she desperately wants.”
“That sounds so ridiculous that it almost makes some sense.”
I laughed. “Yeah.”
“My head hurts, Jax. I’m happy we’re going home tomorrow.”
“Me too, baby.” I could tell she was completely spent. “Let’s get you in bed. You’ve had a long day.”
She nodded in agreement, and we walked over to the bedroom. I helped her into the bed and under the comforter. By the time I tucked her in and kissed her gently on the forehead, she had already fallen fast asleep.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Chloe
“Okay, so I think you were right.” Sweat dotted Jackson’s forehead as he set down a large box next to several others that’d accumulated in the living room within the past hour.
“I’m sure I was,”—I shot him a playful grin as I looked up from the string of Christmas lights I was in the middle of detangling—“but what am I right about this time?”
“We probably should have started putting up the Christmas decorations before we left for the babymoon.”
I giggled as I caught a look of bewilderment on his face as he looked down at the six large boxes he’d brought down from the attic.
“Serves you right for not listening to me—and for not helping with the Christmas decorations last year to see how much work goes into it.”
“How am I supposed to know?” He shook his head as he started opening the last box he’d brought down. “And in my defense, last year, Aunt Betty and Uncle Tom were still here, and they insisted on putting up most of the decorations.” He pulled out a package of ornaments from the box. “Plus,” he added, “I was busy helping Charlie pick out the perfect engagement ring for Kendra and putting together his proposal plans.”
“That really was the perfect engagement ring for her.” I smiled as I recalled how nervous and happy Charlie had been the weeks leading up to the day he proposed to Kendra. I looked over at Jackson. He met my gaze. “You did good, babe.”
“I know, right?” He beamed at me proudly.
“I guess I’ll let you off easy this year.”
He laughed. “Plus, this is all new to me.”
“Yeah.” I nodded and felt a wave of sadness for my husband as it’d dawned on me that even though we’d lived next door to each other, Jackson and I grew up in different home environments, and how we celebrated our holidays was an example of those stark differences.
“You know that my parents never really put too much time or thought into decorating for the holidays.” There was a wistful look in his eyes as he thought back to another time in his life. “My mom always paid some company to come by the house the week after Thanksgiving to bring in a tree and set up all the decorations around the house. I think the only Christmas decorations we kept in the house were some sentimental ornaments my grandmother had left my mom.”
“They tried the best they could,” I said sympathetically.
“Yeah.” He gave a small smile, but from the expression on his face, I knew he was thinking about his mother.
Jackson’s mother had passed away this past year from a brain aneurysm, shortly after our wedding. It’d all happened so suddenly. She’d died alone in the house she’d moved into shortly after her divorce with Jackson’s father. She’d never remarried. The neighbors had found her lying on the kitchen floor. She’d passed away the day before.
Jackson never had a chance to say goodbye to his mother. For the longest time, there was a heaviness around him after her death. And even though he hadn’t wanted to talk about her death much, I could tell it had taken a toll on him. I knew he was filled with sorrow and regret for not visiting her more often. One of the few things he’d said after her death was that he’d thought they’d have more time together. But that was the thing about death: we always think we’d have more time.
I cleared my throat and tried to lighten up the mood. “I really love your grandmother’s ornaments, Jax. They’re all so beautiful and delicate—they really stood out on our tree last year.”
“Yeah, they’re really nice.”
I frowned at his lukewarm response. I hated to see him down like this. I got up quickly and walked over to one of the boxes he’d brought down.
“Oh yeah, I think this is the box that has all the decorations your mom kept.”
The box was labeled Jackson’s old stuff and Christmas decor.
He gave the box a quick once-over from afar. “Yeah, that’s the box. It has that small hole on the side from the top
of the trophy that’d pierced through the box.”
“Trophy?” I wasn’t sure I heard him right.
“Yeah, the ornaments my mom kept from my grandmother only took up half of the space in that box, so my mom kept some of my childhood things in there as well, and one of them was my trophy from Little League.”
“That’s cute,” I said with a smile as I started to open the box. “There must be so many amazing memories in this box then.”
He shrugged and looked down at the box in front of him. For a moment, I watched him as he busied himself sifting through a stuffed reindeer, an inflatable snowman, and stockings.
Maybe he’d sensed my eyes on him because suddenly, he blurted, “I’m going to grab some tools from the garage to put some of this stuff up.” Without another word, he got up and quickly headed out of the room.
I knew Jackson well enough to know he was faking his aloofness. Growing up, it had always been around the holidays that Jackson would become more reserved, more distant, and more somber.
He’d once told me when we were in middle school that he’d always wished that his family had been closer, that they had done more things together as a family, that their Christmases had been as warm, happy, and filled with laughter as it had been for me and my Christmases with Aunt Betty, Uncle Tom, and Charlie.
And now that his mother was no longer around, in a way, he would never get that wish that he’d clung onto since childhood. Just the idea of Jackson having those feelings of despair brought tears to my eyes.
As I started going through the box filled with Jackson’s childhood memories, I was filled with a new sense of determination to make this Christmas the best and most memorable one for Jackson.
The first item in the box that caught my eye was an old family album. As I flipped through it, I smiled at how small and happy Jackson looked in these photos. He must have been between four and eight when these pictures were all taken.
As I flipped through the album, I noticed something I’d never realized before. When Jackson was younger, he had been really close to his father. John was in almost all of the photos in the album. He’d been there for Jackson, actively involved in his life. Whether it was watching him play in Little League, having a father and son fishing retreat, camping together, going to the Phillies game, going to the zoo, or teaching him how to ride a bike, John was there, front and center, in Jackson’s childhood.