by Liz Durano
“I should probably go to my bed in the next room,” she says sleepily. “That way you can do your stuff.”
“I want you here with me, Rox,” I say, kissing the top of her head. The room smells heavily of sex, the floor littered with our clothing.
“This is kinda where we started, isn’t it?” She asks when she notices me studying the room. “Minus the sex.”
I pull her closer to me, feeling her nestle her face in my chest as I lay on my side facing her. “We took care of that part though, and I have no regrets.”
“Me neither,” she says. “So are you always this popular? Your phone buzzing off the hook?”
“Only because of Dad’s party.” I reach for my phone again. I really want to go back to sleep but I need to go to the office and get some work done. I also have interviews to do after lunch. As I go through the messages of congratulations, I know right away that something is not right. Every message congratulates me on the completion of the three schools the nonprofit built during this last trip.
No one has mentioned my engagement to Roxy. Not one.
And wasn’t that the whole point for all the pictures?
I tap on the browser and pull up the Hamptons Live website. ReBuild to Heal is the first story in the Society section complete with the photographs of the volunteers and me hard at work building a school. There’s one of me at the groundbreaking ceremony, another one featuring volunteers working on the roof, and the third picture showing the finished structure complete with chairs and desks and a blackboard. The feature is followed by five pictures taken with the donors at Dad’s party.
But as I scroll through the pictures, it becomes clear what else is wrong. Not a single photograph includes Roxy at all. Instead, she’s been cropped out of every picture, the spot where her hand would have rested on my elbow Photoshopped out. One picture where she’d been standing in the middle of the group has been split into two pictures, each one featuring only the people on either side of her including myself.
It’s as if she wasn’t even there.
“What’s wrong?” Roxy asks as I turn off my phone and set it on the bedside table.
For a moment I almost tell her—you don’t exist—but it’s not like she doesn’t already know it, thanks to my dad. Why rub it in?
“Nothing. Just another work day,” I reply. “What about you? What are your plans today?”
Roxy thinks for a moment. “I’ll probably check out the vintage stores in the area. Maybe I’ll find fabric to make a dress with. Maybe find a record or two. But I have to call the hospital to see if maybe people have stopped harassing them.”
“No matter what happens, will you wait for me?” I ask. “I should be back by five or six. I was thinking we could go out to dinner.”
“What if they want me to go back to work?”
“So soon?”
She shrugs. “My union rep is handling things so… you never know. I just think it’s unfair that I get the blame for those pictures. It’s one thing to do something you know is unethical on purpose, it’s another to be walking down the street minding your own business and knowing you did nothing wrong.”
“We’ll get this fixed soon, Roxy. I promised you that and I don’t back down on my promises.”
She sighs, tracing circles on my chest with her finger. “But it’s not for you to fix, Kodi. I lost my patience in my supervisor’s office. I could have easily told her calmly that I needed my union rep there before I was going to sign anything but I didn’t.” She pauses, biting her lip. “Instead, I lost my temper and that’s what she wrote me up for.”
“Do you really want to return to work so soon?”
“Not really,” she replies. “But I’ve got bills to pay, specifically my student loans. I’m paying them off as fast as I can and I’m almost done. That’s why I do bartending. The tips can be amazing especially when I put on my Bettie persona.”
“Well, there is that,” I say, grinning. “And can I add that you rock the look like no one I know? In fact, you make it your own and it’s sexy as hell. I can’t get enough of it.”
She bursts out laughing when my hands find a ticklish spot, and then another. Soon, we’re wrestling on the bed until she ends up straddling me trying to get her fingers along my sides. Within minutes, we’re both panting and out of breath, in need of a break.
I run my fingers along the large tattoo that covers her right thigh and hip with my fingers. I trace the large magnolia petals, the leaves, and branches. Roxy’s body is a perfect canvas, her tattoos stark against her creamy white skin. I let my other hand drop to her pussy, my fingers finding her soaking wet.
Roxy lowers her head toward me, her lips brushing against mine. Her breasts press against my chest, her nipples hard.
As she continues to kiss me, moving down my jaw, my neck, my collarbone, I’m aching for her, my whole body coming alive with every brush of her lips, every slide of her fingers over my skin.
My head falls back and my eyes close as Roxy slides down my body, settling between my legs. Her hand grips my shaft, her mouth wrapping around the tip, enclosing me in its warmth. I gasp as she flicks her tongue along the underside of my shaft, playfully alternating between long and short strokes before soaking my length with her lips.
A deep shudder races through my body as she takes me deeper in her mouth, pumping up and down. It doesn’t take long before she drives me almost to the edge, pressure building at the base of my cock and I’m about to lose it. But not yet.
“I want to be inside you,” I groan, reaching for a condom on the bedside table. This time she helps roll it over my throbbing cock before straddling me, angling her body just right.
I grip her hips as she slowly slides down my shaft, taking her time. She circles her hips, her pussy lips swirling against the head of my cock until I can’t stand it. Gripping her hips, I push her down, guiding her movements as she moans, her eyes shut. As she starts to ride me, I reach my hand between us and find her clit, playing with her nub.
Outside the world could go to hell, but in here, this is all that matters, the sight of Roxy with her eyes closed, lost in her pleasure, the feel of her pussy clenching around my cock, driving me to the edge. She whimpers, her walls contracting around me as her orgasm comes, squeezing me, milking me. It’s more than I can handle as I feel my own release building, my balls tightening. Every muscle in my body tenses as heat rushes through me and I groan, letting myself sink inside her, feeling her still pulsing around me.
As Roxy collapses over me, I catch my breath, my hands sliding down her back, feeling her softness and her warmth. As we lay catching our breath, I want to drift back to sleep and keep her next to me for as long as I can, push away the world that wants to destroy everything we’ve created since this all began. For as much as I want Roxy to get her job back, I don’t want to lose this connection between us… even if its foundation is based on a lie.
Chapter Twelve
With reporters arriving to interview me in an hour, Roxy picks out my outfit for the day, a navy blue two-button suit with a solid brown grenadine silk tie.
As she sits on the bathroom counter knotting my tie, it takes her only one pass before she nails it perfectly. There’s something about a woman who knows the cut and fit of a man’s suit and if I didn’t have the interviews, I’d have let her strip the suit off me for another round of sex. But I don’t. We’re both tired and as she crawls back into bed for another hour of sleep, Caden arrives to take me to the office.
Inside the car, I pull up the pictures of the party again, every one of them missing the woman I’d wanted to show off to the world. Maybe getting engaged wasn’t the smartest idea, but it was better than not doing anything. I could easily blame Marshall for the oversight but he’s not the one who objected to her presence at the party.
Dad is waiting for me at the office when I arrive twenty minutes later. I pretend nothing’s wrong, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing the removal of Roxy from the
photographs annoyed the crap out of me.
Besides, it’s just like Dad trying to run my life as usual and with those viral pictures still circulating online, he probably thinks it’s his job to fix things.
“So you’re giving me the silent treatment,” he says as he settles in the chair in front of my desk.
“I am? I didn’t even notice. I thought I was working.”
He exhales. “Oh, Kodiak, one day you’ll understand the reason behind my actions.”
“Really? Like why Roxy isn’t in any of the photographs from your party?” I ask. “Did you tell Marshall to have his staff remove her?”
“What if I did?” He clasps his hands in front of him. “That party was to celebrate your recent accomplishment and your return after three months spent overseas. Instead, what do you do? You walk into my house and announce to me that you’re engaged to a girl you had a one-night stand with, a girl I’ve never heard you once mention to me.”
“And your point?”
“I get that she’s different. Maybe she’s excellent in bed, who knows? But those aren’t reasons you marry someone,” he says.
“You forgot to add that she’s not like us,” I say. “Wasn’t that what you made sure she’d remember from your conversation with her?”
Dad shrugs. “If that’s all she took from my talk with her, then obviously it’s a trigger for her. But she also knows I’m right.”
“You made her feel like she wasn’t good enough for me,” I say, reminding myself not to lose my temper. “But guess what, Dad, she is. Right now, Roxy is more than good enough for me. She’s perfect.”
Dad gets up from the chair and stands in front of the desk. “When I first saw the pictures online, I wanted to believe that jet-lag led you to make one bad decision after another. First, the wedding reception, then the one night stand. But getting engaged to some tramp who’s only after your money? It’s not like you, Kodiak.”
“You know nothing about her, Dad. She has a job, and a good one,” I say through gritted teeth.
“A job that’s also in jeopardy after those pictures popped up online,” Dad says. “What happens if she gets fired?”
“Then she gets another job if she wants to,” I say. “You don’t even know her, Dad, and already you’re passing judgment. And for what? Because she’s different, she’s got tattoos, or she wears her hair like Bettie Page? Or is it because she’s her own person and she’s comfortable in her own skin? I don’t know. Pick one.”
Dad doesn’t speak right away. But when he does, I’m not even surprised. “She’s not like us, Kodiak.”
“Was Mom like you when you met her?” I ask as Dad frowns. “Did Granddad tell you that she wasn’t good enough for you because she worked behind the counter of one of the stores you guys owned?”
“Don’t talk to me like that, Kodiak.”
“Yes, I will talk to you like that, Dad, because I want you to hear how you sound right now,” I say, rising from my chair. “I didn’t volunteer to build schools abroad to come back here and pretend that I’m better than them. Roxy is a good person. She’s hardworking, honest, and right now, she makes me happy. But if you can’t see that, then we’ll simply have to agree to disagree.”
“You barely know her and suddenly here you are, announcing you guys are engaged,” Dad protests. “That’s crazy.”
“You barely knew Mom when you asked her out and then three weeks later, ask her to marry you,” I say. “I know you liked Melanie but she didn’t get me, Dad. She didn’t get what I liked or why I liked things, especially when it didn’t fit into her world. Your world. She was perfect wife material, as you always told me, but not my wife material.”
“Are you honestly saying you’re going to marry this woman?”
“I’m saying I’m going to see her—maybe we’ll work out or maybe we won’t—but I won’t know that unless I get to know her better,” I say, pausing as my secretary lets me know on the intercom that the first reporter has arrived and is in one of the conference rooms.
Dad’s eyes narrow and I realize what I’d just said. But it’s too late. “You don’t have to be engaged to someone to get to know them better, Kodiak… unless the engagement serves a whole different purpose.”
My throat tightens. I slipped and he caught it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about and nothing you say will make me change my mind right now,” I say. “I’m sorry you don’t like her but that’s out of my control. Anyway, I need to go. I’ve got an interview to do.”
As I watch Dad get up and step out of the office, I realize I didn’t really have to say a lot to get my point across but somehow I felt I did. Then it hits me. It’s in every word I’ve uttered so far about Roxy.
I’m falling for her, and I’m falling fast.
Maybe too fast.
Chapter Thirteen
The moment I see him standing outside Kodi’s front door, I know that some things are simply too good to be true. I want to turn around but I can’t, not when he sees me the moment he turns away from the door. There’s also no way I’m going to run like I’m guilty.
“If you’re looking for Kodi, he’s at his office,” I say as I make my way up the steps. “He left just before lunch.”
When I reach the top of the landing, I let Franklin Donovan take the bags I’m carrying filled with fabric from the vintage shop and two records I think Kodi will like, Dinah Washington and Nat “King” Cole.
“I was actually hoping to speak with you,” Franklin says. He’s dressed in a classic three-piece suit, salt and pepper hair slicked back. “Can we talk?”
I pull out Kodi’s key and unlock the front door. “Sure. Why don’t you come inside?”
Franklin follows me inside and sets the bags on the floor. He looks around, his gaze settling on the turntable, an amused expression his face. Before Kodi had left for the office, he’d set my sewing machine in the guest room and my turntable on the coffee table. I had managed to hook it up to the stereo before I decided to head out and do some shopping.
I set my purse on the table and eye him curiously. He clasps his hands in front of him, his coat still on. “What would you like to talk about?”
“I heard that you got into some sort of trouble with Miller General,” he begins. “Quite unfortunate given the circumstances of that viral picture of you and Kodiak, I’m afraid.”
I cross my arms in front of my chest. “Yes, it is.”
“You might remember Maxwell George at the party?” He asks, not waiting for me to reply. “He tells me you might start working again, starting tonight. You do work the evening shift, yes?”
“You didn’t have to do that for me. I didn’t ask you to,” I say, frowning. “Besides, my union rep was taking care of that.”
“And how long do you think it will take him to get that taken care of? A week? A month?” he scoffs. “Because that’s how long these things take without any additional help.”
“But that’s the thing. I didn’t ask for your help, Mr. Donovan. I need to go through regular channels like regular people.” I’m also having a damn good time with your son, I almost tell him but it would have probably made things worse.
“Ah, like regular people,” he repeats thoughtfully. “You know what regular people would do when they find themselves in your situation, when they’re told to wait out a hospital decision?”
I shake my head.
“Regular people wait it out. Sure, they may call their union rep but that’s pretty much it. Then they wait.”
“What’s your point, Mr. Donovan?”
“People like my son are not regular people,” he says, his mouth almost frozen in a grimace as he says those two words. “They don’t wait for someone to tell them it’s okay to go back to work. Instead, when there’s a problem, they do something about it. And maybe that’s what Kodiak did when he heard you were in trouble after you spent the night with him. Maybe you told him you got suspended and he truly felt bad. Maybe you told him it would be a
good idea if you two got engaged... just temporarily, mind you. Just enough time for you to work your way into his life–”
“That’s it. You can stop there,” I say, the words coming out before I can stop myself. “I’d like for you to leave, Mr. Donovan. I think you’ve made your point very clear.”
“I hope so,” he says, walking toward the front door. “Don’t get me wrong, Miss Porter. Kodiak founded his nonprofit because he wanted to make his mark in this world without accepting a handout from his father. And as much as he is making a huge difference in this world, I hate seeing his generosity being taken advantage of–”
“–by regular people like me?” I ask.
“It doesn’t matter by whom. What matters is that it’s happening at all,” he says, pulling the door open as my phone buzzes from inside my purse.
“He’s not a child, you know,” I say through gritted teeth. “Kodi can make up his own mind.”
“I’m sure he can, Miss Porter, but I hope you understand where I’m coming from as well.” He steps out and nods. “Have a good day. And I hope your work situation works out.”
I shut the door behind Franklin a little too hard but I don’t care. Through the window, I watch him get into his limo and drive away, realizing I’m holding my breath the entire time until the I lose sight of him in the traffic.
My phone buzzes again and I retrieve it from my purse. The moment I see the hospital’s phone number on the display, I know everything Franklin just told me is true thanks to his buddy Maxwell.
I sigh, and tap Answer.
Everyone seems happy to see me back on the Critical Care unit and I’m actually happy to back. It’s as if my day off spent with Kodi becomes just that—just another regular day off.
If anyone wanted to mention #walkofshameroxy and its consequences to my face, they can’t because the unit is full and there’s no time to do anything else but do our job and care for patients. I’m sure people are talking about me behind my back but there’s nothing I can do about that. At least, I’m back.