Owned By Fate

by Tessa Bailey

  When Caroline turned and began to descend the stairs, Jonah saw the man sit straighter in his chair with a frown, noticing her departure and looking less than happy about it. Too bad, motherfucker. Then the guy turned and looked at Jonah, understanding dawning on his face. Jonah sent the man a wink, resisting the primal urge to suck the taste of her off his fingers while the other man watched.

  Leaving the man gaping after him, he followed Caroline down the stairs and joined her at the bar, where she was signing a credit card receipt. She handed him his hat, which he’d left sitting on the bar beside his half-empty glass of whiskey.

  One corner of her mouth quirked up. “Again with the hat?”

  “Baby.” He smoothed her lip with the pad of his thumb. “Don’t act like you don’t love the hat.”

  Looking cautiously amused, she let him retrieve her coat from the attendant and lead her from the restaurant. They walked along the sidewalk, letting the sounds of the city surround them. Cabs whizzing past, racing from one fare to the next. Groups of friends laughing and stumbling between bars, cigarettes being lit up and stomped out. Wind tunneling through the surrounding skyscrapers, lifting his coat and Caroline’s hair, weaving the myriad sounds together into a patchwork quilt of noise. Neither one of them spoke for several blocks, still getting used to each other’s presence in a public place. He couldn’t deny the fierce surge of satisfaction he felt having her beside him, looking well fucked and gorgeous, dangerous as that enjoyment might be.

  Noting the block they were on, Jonah took her hand and led her down a side street. He knew of a quiet underground jazz club where she wouldn’t have to worry about being seen by anyone and would hopefully let her guard drop for a while. Even now, her hand was tense in his, eyes scanning the street, presumably for anyone she knew. Jonah refused to let it bother him. Tomorrow, when he inevitably began to miss her again, he would use it as a reason to convince himself he was better off without her. It might even work for an hour or two.

  Caroline didn’t question him as he led her down the dimly lit staircase with a single blue lightbulb hanging over the entrance. Before he opened the door for her, Jonah leaned down and kissed her, just a gentle teasing of the lips that had her swaying toward him.

  “After you,” he whispered against her mouth.

  Her gaze lit with challenge. As she bypassed him into the small club, she let her breasts press and drag against his chest, eliciting a low groan from his throat. Wishing he’d convinced her to go home with him instead, he let his hand skate over her ass and squeeze the supple flesh as he followed her inside.

  Almost immediately inside the door, the bar greeted them on the left, while a stage and a handful of tables were stationed on the right. Couples sat close, paying only fleeting attention to the trio of musicians onstage, the sultry music doing its job in creating an intimate atmosphere. No one paid them the slightest bit of attention as they slipped through the darkness and found a round table. When Caroline moved to pull back her own chair, Jonah shook his head and tugged her down onto his lap instead. A gasp of surprise puffed past her swollen lips, sending arousal slithering through his stomach. He thought she still might protest, but after a moment, she seemed to notice the other customers’ lack of interest and relaxed against him.

  “Shouldn’t you be at Serve right now?” Caroline asked softly. Respectful of the performers, Jonah imagined. “It has to be packed tonight.”

  “I was there earlier. I couldn’t concentrate.” He began rubbing circles onto her back, pleased as hell when she sighed, relaxing further. “Any idea why that might be?”

  She shook her head, causing a wave of hair to fall forward and shield them further from prying eyes. “I couldn’t begin to imagine.”

  Jonah let that pass without comment, merely sending her a wink. He ordered a scotch from the waitress and, to his surprise, Caroline asked for the same. Although at this point nothing she did should surprise him. “Should I assume, since you were working on a story tonight, that Preston’s has found a way to turn things around without the merger?” He didn’t like seeing the shadow that crossed her face. “What is it?”

  For a moment, it looked like she might change the subject. He cursed himself for bringing up the elephant in the room, but it couldn’t be helped. It lay between them like a line in the sand. But when she finally answered him, it wasn’t what he’d been expecting. “My father… He told me this morning he’s retiring…and leaving me the magazine.”

  Jesus, such responsibility. Not that he and Caroline were too far apart in age, but as fresh as she looked, Jonah had always thought of her as much younger. Still, he didn’t even have to stretch his imagination to picture her commanding a boardroom. Oddly, it just made him want to smile like an idiot. “Why does that make you unhappy?” And how can I fix it?

  Caroline took a deep breath. “This morning, I was just focused on saving us from bankruptcy. This is a whole new level. Even if we manage to pull through…” She trailed off.

  “Asher’s idea can save the magazine,” Jonah said carefully, knowing they were getting into uncomfortable territory and wanting to avoid it at all costs.

  Her eyes met his, then quickly flitted away. “Yes.”

  It went unspoken that she was unwilling to go that route. Her opinion hadn’t changed one iota since the meeting he’d attended. I can’t fix anything for her. I’m part of the problem. Jonah ignored the sting in the vicinity of his chest. “So what is your alternative?”

  She met his gaze, determination coupled with a touch of excitement shining in her eyes. “I’m going to blow the roof off the biggest story of the year.”

  For a moment, Jonah couldn’t breathe. Her confidence and energy practically hummed between them, filling him with a pride he had no right to feel. Or did he? Despite their differences, their connection was a tangible thing, thickening the air around them. He knew she felt it, could see the pulse racing in her neck, her shortness of breath.

  “Do you believe me?” Her gaze was locked on his mouth.

  “Anyone would be a fool not to.” Jonah let his hand coast up her neck to disappear into the wealth of her hair. When he began massaging the back of her head with methodical fingers, her eyelids drooped on a quiet moan. “You’re going to be a force, Caroline. The magazine will only get bigger and better. You have the ability to accomplish it in your little finger.”

  “What if it hurts my relationship with Oliver?” she whispered, laying her head down on his shoulder, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “He’s the oldest…been there longer. It should have been him.”

  Jonah understood now. He pulled her closer, as if it were possible with her curled around him. “It might be hard at first, but you’ll make it right somehow. You won’t rest until you do.”

  They sat quietly for a while, letting the smooth, smoky sounds of the music drift over them. When Caroline spoke again, her voice was so quiet that he could barely hear her. “Jonah, you should hate me. I kind of wish you would.” She sat up, and Jonah immediately missed her head tucked against his neck. “How can you sit here and pep-talk me when I had the power to help your case with the article and didn’t? When I continue to push you away because of who you are?”

  The misery on her face softened the blow of her words. He kissed the frown off her forehead. “Maybe I don’t think your heart is in it.”

  “It is,” she insisted. “It has to be.”

  “Possibly.” Jonah rubbed their lips together, tugged her top one with his teeth. “But you still want me. If it makes me weak to hope you keep breaking down and coming back, so be it.” He drew her into a kiss before she could respond, sinking his tongue into her mouth to memorize her taste. Knowing they were safe in their dark corner, he cupped her breast, savoring her whimper when he teased her nipple through the fabric. On his lap, she began to circle her bottom, in what he suspected was an unconscious move. Jonah released her mouth but stayed close. “I haven’t spent nearly enough time with my mouth on
your breasts, baby. I’m sorry for that.”

  “Um…” Her body shuddered on an exhale. “The night is still young?”

  Jonah’s soft laugh ended abruptly when Caroline’s teeth skated up the side of his neck. “Ah, sweetheart, you’ll have to stop that for now. We’re underground. Not a deserted patio in sight.”

  Caroline pressed shaky fingers to her swollen lips as she pulled back. “You started it.”

  “I did,” he agreed, tracing her cheekbone with his thumb.

  For a few moments, they made a pretense of watching the musicians, although he suspected they both needed the time to reel in their desire. Caroline sipped her drink, which left shining liquor coating her lips. Jonah had to force himself not to lick away every drop. When the song ended, she turned to him as if an idea had occurred. “Has anything changed with Gabby? The visitation…”

  “You remembered her name,” he murmured, mostly to himself. For some strange reason, hearing another person say his daughter’s name out loud made her all the more real. Even his lawyer never referred to Gabby by name, usually calling her “the child” instead. Sometimes Jonah wondered if he was dreaming the entire situation, and he didn’t have a daughter at all. Not unusual, considering his entire acquaintance with her consisted of a single photograph. Caroline simply releasing it into the atmosphere, however, brought Gabby to life.

  Now, she looked away uncomfortably. “Of course I did.”

  Her reaction told Jonah to keep his overly sentimental thoughts to himself. “No news yet. We’re waiting for Renee, her mother, to agree to a meeting.”

  “Is that going to happen?”

  Jonah shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said quietly. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask Caroline if she thought he deserved visitation, given his lifestyle. But he didn’t want to hear her answer, was afraid it would condemn him. He suspected her negative opinion would score deeper than anyone else’s had thus far.

  “Do you have any family helping you pursue this?”

  “No. It’s just me.”

  A small sound escaped her, filling the scant space between them. She looked pensive for a moment before staring him in the eye. “You’ll be a great dad, Jonah. I really believe that.”

  Before he could manage a response, she leaned back on his shoulder and tucked her head into the crook of his neck. Part of him was grateful she couldn’t see his face after the gift she’d so unexpectedly given him, because he was fairly certain he looked shell-shocked. Was it possible she could be right? Could he be the father he’d never had?

  Jonah lost track of the time as they sat there, Caroline’s body intertwined with his, their easy breaths mingling together as the music let them drift, forget about the factors keeping them apart. In the dark, unknown to anyone around them, they weren’t Caroline Preston, the Ivy League graduate, heir to a legendary financial publication, and Jonah Briggs, controversial BDSM club owner.

  They were just two people who couldn’t seem to stay away from each other.

  At some point, Caroline lifted her head and looked into his eyes. When she spoke, he had to strain to hear. “It’s time for me to go.”

  Keeping his features schooled to hide his disappointment, Jonah nodded and pulled out his wallet. His disappointment vexed him momentarily. What the hell had he expected? After paying the small tab and tipping the waitress, he led her out of the club and back up the stairs. As opposed to before when they’d entered the club, there was nothing playful about leaving. Neither one of them spoke as Jonah stood, one foot in the street, to hail down a yellow cab for Caroline. It pulled up alongside them, and he opened the back door, trying to ignore the sense of panic sitting on his lungs. God, he was getting sick to death of parting ways with her, not knowing whether or not he would see her again.

  Before she could stoop down to climb into the backseat, Jonah captured her chin in his hand and tilted her face up for a deep, thorough kiss. Remember how this feels, he mentally implored her. “Good night, Caroline.”

  “’Bye, Jonah.”

  This time when Caroline drove away, she didn’t look back.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Wednesday afternoon in Bryant Park was unusually busy. The crisp fall weather had gone on hiatus, replaced with unseasonably warm temperatures. Businessmen were sprawled out on the lawn eating hot dogs purchased from street vendors. Tourists, mangled maps in their hands, wound among the suits on their way to the library or a Broadway show.

  Nearby where Caroline sat on a shaded bench, someone had music blasting though his headphones, the distant, tinny noise tunneling past her eardrums to assault her fuzzy brain.

  She stared down at her untouched smoothie, unable to remember where she’d procured it or even paying for it. At this very moment, I could be a smoothie fugitive. A slightly hysterical laugh bubbled from her throat, cut off when a passing woman sent her a strange glance.

  Eliza plopped down next to her unannounced. “You going to drink that?”

  Wordlessly, Caroline handed it over, the movement lethargic. She was so damn tired that responding verbally required too much energy. How many nights had it been since she’d slept? A hundred? One? She knew the precise answer, but acknowledging it made her feel sick and angry and confused. Not to mention a thousand other emotions for which she couldn’t account. To keep her mind from returning to painful thoughts, she focused on the blaring music, letting the obnoxious sound ramp up her ever-present headache even more, until the pulsing ache in her temple drowned everything out.

  “—roline!”

  Her head jerked up when Eliza’s frantic voice broke through her carefully constructed haze. “What?”

  “What? I’ve been calling your name, zombie.” Eliza’s fingers plowed through her blond hair. “A couple of tourists thought we were doing performance art.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah. Not exactly Shakespeare in the Park.”

  Caroline looked down at her empty hands. “Wherefore art thou, smoothie?”

  Eliza made a sound of disgust. “You gave it to me. I drank it.”

  “Really?” She felt the corners of her mouth quirk up. “Was it As You Like It?” Before the ridiculous pun had fully left her mouth, Caroline doubled over with laughter. At first, it felt glorious, releasing any part of what had been pent up inside her for days, but it very quickly started to hurt. Her chest felt weighted down, bright lights pricked behind her eyes, and before she knew it, her laughter had turned to giant, racking sobs.

  Never in her life had she cried like this. What was left of her functioning brain recognized that fact, and it terrified her. When her mother passed away, they’d known it was coming and had months to prepare. She’d been more resigned than anything. This, this felt like a mutiny on her senses. She couldn’t withstand it or stop it. It just kept coming.

  This would pass. She had to be positive of that fact. As soon as her body gave in to the demands of sleep, she would wake up replenished. A new woman. Time healed all wounds. Clichés, clichés, more clichés. She had everything she wanted at this very moment. The final piece of her Ponzi scheme exposé had fallen into place, and her father was handing over the magazine to her. She was on her way to a fucking Pulitzer if she played her cards right. As soon as she figured out how to focus and speak again, she would be fine. Time. She just needed time.

  Eliza put an arm around her shaking shoulders and drew her close on the bench, hissing at a teenage passerby who stopped to gape. Why? Oh, right. She was crying hysterically in public. “You have to tell me what’s wrong, Ro. This is getting out of control.” The distress in her friend’s voice forced Caroline to make an attempt at calming herself. “I-I… Should I call Oliver? Your dad?”

  “No,” Caroline said quickly, swiping at her wet cheeks. “I’m fine, I swear. Just need some rest. It can’t feel like this forever. It won’t.”

  “What won’t? You have to talk to me.” Understanding dawned on Eliza’s face, and she slumped a little. “Oh my God, it’s
Jonah. Isn’t it? The club owner.”

  Caroline’s breath left her in a rush. No one had said his name out loud in days, and it felt like she’d been nailed in the stomach by a two-by-four. She struggled to pull herself together. Jonah had just been a phase. A stupid, ill-advised phase that needed to be put behind her now. Right now. “Yes. Fine. It’s…him. But please don’t make me talk about it. I can’t, Eliza.”

  “Okay,” Eliza said soothingly, a frown marring her brow. “We won’t talk about him. But this can’t go on, Ro. You’re…Honey, you’re losing weight. You’re not yourself.”

  “I know.” Thankfully, her voice sounded steadier, even if the rest of her didn’t. “Look, I just need—”

  A familiar tune distracted her, cutting off her speech. When she felt vibrating in her pants pocket, Caroline realized it was her cell phone ringing. Probably the office. How long had she been gone? She pulled out the device, glanced down at the screen—

  And felt the world shift. Jonah was calling her.

  “It’s Jonah,” she murmured, knowing the joy exploding in her chest was a very bad, very dangerous thing. Energy practically sizzled in her veins. Traitorous, silly feelings. “Why is he calling me?”

  “Don’t answer it,” Eliza said urgently. “If he’s the one doing this to you—”

  Caroline shot to her feet, ignoring her friend’s curse. Nothing short of an apocalypse could have prevented her from answering. Maybe if she just talked to him one more time, it would provide the closure she needed. So she could sleep and move on with the almost guaranteed success heading her way. Yes, that was all she needed. “Hello?”

  “Sweetheart.”

  Tears blurred her vision. Caroline knew at that moment she’d made a colossal mistake in answering. With one husky endearment, he’d set her right back to where she’d started. The dark place she’d been in since driving away from him Saturday night.

  With determination, she rung out the greedy sponge inside of her that had soaked up his voice. “Jonah.”