“I did. And now, I’m leaving.”
“So you expect to hit me and just walk away?”
“That’s exactly what I expect to do. You don’t want me here any more than I want to be here. You’ve hurt me in all ways possible. Naming this place Jessica’s and then proceeding to call me by that name was just the nail in the coffin.”
This was it.
I could do it.
I could tell him about the baby.
I was going to say it and leave. But then my plans were shattered after he opened his mouth, his words the final blow to my carefully laid resolve.
“You should be proud to be my Jessica. It’s a title most women I know would die for.”
I opened my mouth to say something about the baby—maybe a good sarcastic dig that would hurt him as badly as he was hurting me—but the words died on my tongue.
“Every woman but me. I don’t want the title, and I no longer want you.”
As soon as the words came out of my mouth, I knew I had to make them true. I couldn’t do this with him anymore. I needed to move on—for my baby and for me.
“Liar. I know how badly you want me. I know you lay in your bed at night and touch yourself while you think about me. Your fingers lost in your sweet pussy and your mouth gaped open in pleasure. You love making yourself come and you love doing it with my name on your lips.”
“I hate you,” I growled as I tried yet again to move away from him.
Again, he stopped me.
“You hate me? Is that why you use me to get off? Squirming in bed in your pretty little tank tops and my boxer shorts. I always loved you in my clothes. It’s fucking sexy.”
And then everything stopped.
How could he have known such things in such perfect detail?
I’d been wearing Sebastian’s clothes since I moved into the condo. It was stupid, but it made me feel closer to him. As if his cotton boxers touching me in my secret places was the same as he himself touching me.
“Have you been watching me?” I hissed. “You bastard! Are there cameras?”
He didn’t respond.
Instead, he smiled down at me in his signature sexy smirk.
“Enjoy the rest of your night, Jessica. I recommend the lobster. It’s delicious.”
And then he was walking away from me, leaving me breathless and alone in the empty space while the diners on the other side of the wall enjoyed themselves.
I gathered myself and caught my breath. Once I felt like I could walk again, I left the space and headed for the front door. I wanted out. I needed to get away.
I was almost out the door when a young gentleman stopped me. It took me a second to figure out why he looked familiar. He was Sebastian’s lawyer. I’d met him a handful of times.
“Ms. Harris, before you go, is there any way I could have you sign some things?”
“What kinds of things?”
“Well, as you know, half of Jessica’s is yours. I need to finalize that and file the paperwork.”
I closed my eyes against the memories of our night in this very building. Sebastian had prepared a delicious dinner and then confessed his love for me in the form of a new business.
Lies.
It was all lies.
“No, thank you,” I said, turning to leave once again.
“Ms. Harris, I don’t think you should give up this opportunity. I’m sure, just like Clive’s, Jessica’s is going to be an amazing place that will bring in immense revenue. You don’t want to miss out on half of that.”
I did.
I wanted no part of it, but then I suddenly remembered I was pregnant. And all my doubts came rushing back to me. Not only my doubts, but also the worry that Sebastian might try to take custody of my baby once it was born. Half of the money from Jessica’s could help me stop that.
“All I have to do is sign and half of everything is mine?”
“Yes, ma’am. If you could just sign here and here, everything will be finalized.”
Plucking the pen from his fingers, I didn’t hesitate. I signed my name and finalized the paperwork. Half of Jessica’s was mine. I felt as though I’d somehow accomplished something, as if I’d secured myself somehow, no matter how much I hated the name and its meaning.
Also, if the restaurant were half mine, then I’d treat it as such. Jessica was my name after all, right? Which meant I was rightfully half owner of the beautiful business Sebastian had built and I’d roll up my sleeves and get to work as soon as possible.
I wasn’t about to get paid from a business where I didn’t work. I didn’t want anything handed to me. Not to mention, working with juvenile delinquents wasn’t ideal being as I was pregnant. I’d work at the restaurant for as long as I could, and then once I had the baby, I could go back to making a difference.
Sebastian would hate me working at Jessica’s, which of course meant I had no other choice. He’d angered me to no end. It was time he knew what it felt like to be played.
GRIPPING THE EDGE OF MY desk, I came in my hand—thick and hard—fast. I needed the relief as I was dying without Rosslyn. At least, I felt like I was. I’d watched her touch herself—her hand disappearing into the pair of my boxers she was wearing and her fingers sliding through her wet heat. I couldn’t help myself. I fisted my hard cock and followed her rhythm as if she was fingering herself for my eyes only.
I hated jacking off. Especially when I knew she’d let me into her condo as well as her body. It was obvious she wanted me—needed me—craved me as much as I craved her. I could hear her desperation as she called out my name when she came. It pushed me over the edge, and I exploded in my palm.
I missed her.
Not just her body but also her mind. The way she lit up the condo with her happiness and sweet nature. The place didn’t even feel like home anymore. I fucking hated it. I prayed every night that she’d show up for the grand opening of Jessica’s so I could be near her even for a brief time.
I’d named the place after her. Maybe she’d see that and know how much I loved her—how much I missed her and needed her. The name Jessica held so much meaning. I’d tried to explain that to her over the years. That name signified my happy place.
When I was younger, I’d watch cartoons to escape, but Who Framed Rodger Rabbit was the most influential. I wasn’t sure why, but it was during a time when I needed the escape the most. And so it was Jessica Rabbit who saved me. And Rosslyn had saved me, as well. It was only fitting.
Jessica.
My escape.
My love.
My life.
I knew she’d love it. At least, I hoped. But I hadn’t planned on her reaction at all. She exploded with anger, her face screwed up and her eyes narrowed.
She hated it.
Didn’t she know how much that name meant to me?
Didn’t she understand what it meant to be my Jessica?
Even in her rage, she was beautiful. Her long hair draped over her slender shoulders like red silk against her open back dress. Her dress, which was a concoction of black lace and silk, was amazing. Sexy yet simple. Hiding everything yet showing off her curves, which seemed to have thickened in a way that made my mouth water.
I wanted to taste her.
Lick her from head to toe and suck her sweetly in all the places that made her break.
I’d all but lifted her dress and fucked her up against the wall in a place where at any time the kitchen staff could see us when they came out of the kitchen. But I didn’t care. She was breaking me.
She’d always break me.
And then I looked at her face.
I actually looked at it.
And I could see the sadness lingering around the edges of her eyes. The tightness of her lips and sunken cheeks. She had gained a tiny bit of weight, which looked amazing on her, but at the same time, her face was slimmer—sadder—paler. She wasn’t happy, and neither was I. We were miserable, and until I found the motherfucker responsible for threatening my Rosslyn, w
e’d remain that way.
I wanted to reach out and hold her. I wanted to kiss it all away, but I couldn’t. Instead, I’d walked away and left in the middle of the grand opening—leaving behind celebrities and some of the most influential people in the city.
Fuck it.
Fuck it all.
None of that mattered. All that mattered was keeping Rosslyn safe. I no longer trusted myself in a room with her. If I wanted to keep her safe, I had to continue to stay away.
Mac was standing by the car outside. I hadn’t fired Martin, but until this whole fucked-up situation blew over, I needed muscle behind the wheel—I needed someone who could protect Rosslyn while she was out. Although she hadn’t used Mac as a driver since he’d dropped her off at Trish’s apartment, which drove me fucking mad.
Martin was old and fragile—he couldn’t protect himself much less Rosslyn. He didn’t know the reason behind his impromptu vacation, but he didn’t question, which was exactly how I liked my employees.
With Martin out of the way, I had Mac following Rosslyn’s every move. I couldn’t take any chances.
“Leaving so soon, Black?”
I didn’t answer.
Instead, I pulled open the back door, climbed in, and looked Mac straight into his eyes before he could close the door behind me.
“This shit stops now. We need to find him. And when we do, I’ll put a bullet between his fucking eyes.”
A WEEK WENT BY AND time fucking stopped. I went through the motions of life—manning the club and signing paperwork—all the bullshit that came with the territory, but I felt crazy. Nothing was happening. I couldn’t find the person behind the letters, which meant I couldn’t go near Rosslyn. It was a slow death. A gruesome death. I fucking hated it.
I stayed away from the restaurant and let the employees run the show. Mac was responsible for bringing all paperwork to my office even though I had an office set up at Jessica’s, as well. I didn’t know why, but it felt wrong to be there without Rosslyn by my side. I’d opened the place for her—for us—and her not being there was making me insane.
But business moved forward as usual, and as much as I hated it, I had to take a trip to Jessica’s and to check the progress. I stood outside the restaurant looking up at the neon sign. The name Jessica’s shone back at me in cursive red neon making me feel sad and happy all at the same time. Sad because Rosslyn wasn’t here to see the place I’d built for her, and happy because the place was booming with a line out the door.
The restaurant had been open a week, and this was the first time I’d been back since the grand opening. Being there without Rosslyn was harder than I thought it was going to be. Doing anything these days without Rosslyn was harder than I’d imagined.
I wasn’t sleeping—not that I slept a ton to start with—but at least with Rosslyn, I’d get in a few hours here and there. Now, I’d lay awake and stare at the ceiling until I’d finally get up, take a shower, and do it all over again.
Also, I was finding it hard to eat. Food had no flavor anymore, and my favorite scotch was the only thing filling my stomach. I knew it wasn’t healthy, but I couldn’t stop myself from thinking about her. I had to do it for her—for us—for just a little bit longer.
Giving her up, even for only a little while, was the hardest thing I’d ever done, but this was pushing the limit of impossible. I missed her with every breath I took, and the pain was nearly unbearable.
Some nights, I woke up reaching for her only to find her gone. I’d pull her pillow to my face and try to remember the smell of her skin. I was losing those memories—losing the things that kept her alive in my mind every second she was away from me.
Waking up and going about my day was torture, and if it weren’t for the fact that her life was in danger, I wouldn’t have lasted five minutes after leaving her in the bridal store. I shook away the memory of her standing in her wedding dress, her black tears ruining the sequined top, and made my way through the doors of the restaurant.
It was busy and that was thrilling. In many ways, I felt as though I’d brought a child into the world, and seeing that child do well was fulfilling. Even if Rosslyn wasn’t there to see the place thrive, I knew one day she would be, even if I wasn’t with her when that happened.
“Mr. Black,” Phillip, the restaurant manager, greeted me looking completely shocked to see me here. “Good evening.” He recovered quickly. “It’s so nice to see you here tonight. I didn’t know you were coming by.”
His nervous demeanor made me suspicious. I was in no mood to find any foul play going on in my newest establishment. The thought of having to hire another manager and train him wasn’t appealing. As it was, I almost didn’t hire Phillip in time. Going through resumes and the extreme background checks I pulled was so time-consuming.
Phillip was a nice guy. I’d hired him on the spot after a day of interviews with shady-ass wannabe chefs. He wasn’t the most qualified, but after looking over his background check and resume, I could tell he was a man who knew how to take charge.
He was short and muscled, but still had the energy to move quickly and keep the momentum for the team working beneath him. His alert brown eyes stayed on me unblinkingly, which told me he wasn’t hiding anything. Any man who could look you in the eye without blinking was comfortable and secure with himself. And that was what I needed.
Security.
I needed to know that when I left my post, my manager could keep the flow steady. I needed to know he could take care of things when I wasn’t around.
The ladies found him attractive, but since I was positive the ladies had nothing he wanted hanging between their thighs, I didn’t have to worry about him fucking my waitresses. I wasn’t sexist, but ladies tended to make better waitresses, as far as I was concerned. It wasn’t that I wouldn’t hire a male waiter; I just didn’t have the chance to interview many.
So Phillip wasn’t a shady guy, which was why his tense shoulders and tight smile made me worry.
“Phillip.” My tone alerted him that I was onto him and he swallowed hard. “How’s everything going tonight?”
“Perfect! Absolutely perfect. We have a full house, as you can see.” He waved his arm in the direction of the floor, and as he said, there wasn’t an empty table in the place.
“Give me a rundown,” I requested, making my way around the restaurant toward the back.
I knew if I took the long way, I would be spared the praise and pointless greetings of the customers I knew and didn’t know. I wasn’t in any mood to be the polite and courteous Sebastian Black tonight.
“We’re booked solid for the next six months. The reservations come in by the hour,” he began, following close behind me.
“Are you making sure to save tables for walkins? I don’t want the reservations to take over the entire restaurant.”
“Of course, Mr. Black. The wait staff is amazing at turning over tables for the customers who are lined up outside the minute we open.”
“Good. How’s Ricky doing?”
Ricky, the new head chef, was one of the best in New York City. I’d won him over with a full benefits package and an extra zero on the end of his yearly salary. The man cooked chicken to perfection and knew how I wanted my steak without having to ask.
“Oh, superb! The food is nothing short of heavenly, and the guests have only the best to say about our chef.”
“Good.”
I had expected nothing less of Ricky Alexander. His name was whispered in all the overpriced restaurants I’d dined at over the years. And while he’d cost a small fortune to employ, I knew he’d be great for my return. I spared no expense for this new endeavor, which meant only the best would be working under its roof.
“Numbers?” I asked, turning and leaving Phillip to follow.
“They’ve by far exceeded your expectation, Mr. Black. We’re doing almost triple from the original numbers you gave me for the opening month.” He sounded very pleased with that.
“Is the bar i
ncluded?”
“Oh no, sir. The bar puts us over the top by almost thirty percent just in the week we’ve been open.”
The numbers for Jessica’s were more than any business owner could hope for in their opening week, but there would be no celebrating on my end. I listened to Phillip rattle on about other things he thought I should know about. Everything seemed to be running smoothly and I was confident I could stay away unless something desperately needed my attention here.
I stopped before we got to the kitchen and turned to face Phillip. Again, he had that nervous twitch around his eyes as he kept his view on the kitchen doors behind me.
“It sounds like you have everything under control here, Phillip. Not that I doubted you would. I only hire the best.” I made sure to lay it on thick and watched as the guilt made sweat bead around his forehead.
“Thank you, Mr. Black.”
“I’m going to make my way through the kitchen and then I have some papers I need from the office.”
“Yes, Mr. Black.”
I pushed open the swinging door and paused, giving him one more chance to come clean.
“Before I go in, is there anything I need to know, Phillip? Anything at all?”
I watched as the debate inside his head wreaked havoc on his facial expression. His thin, pale lips parted, but before he could say anything, I heard her voice. For a second, I thought my ears were playing tricks on me, but when her voice filtered through the hustle of the kitchen even louder, I knew they weren’t.
“What the …”
I pushed my way through the double doors and halted in place. I didn’t know what I expected to see, but Rosslyn standing there calling out orders and table numbers was not it.
“What’s she doing here?” I said for Phillip’s ears only.
“She’s been here every day following the opening, Mr. Black.”
“What?” My shock was genuine. “Why the hell didn’t anyone tell me?”
“I tried, Mr. Black, but-”
“You should have tried harder,” I hissed.
Rosslyn’s back was to me, so she wasn’t aware I was there yet, and that gave me all the time I needed to take in the sight of her. Her red hair shined under the kitchen lights, and she had it pulled up revealing her long, elegant neck.
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