Dating Games

by T. K. Leigh

  He momentarily averts his gaze, drawing in a deep breath. “Sonia was surrounded by people she thought were her friends and was in a marriage that, on its face, was the picture of perfection. But she’d never felt so alone. That’s why she sought me out. And over the weeks we spent together, she confided in me. I think she just wanted someone to talk to, someone who would listen and not judge her for staying in an abusive relationship. Because of our time together, she finally found the strength to file for divorce.”

  He grips the podium tighter, his expression fraught with emotion. When he looks at the audience again, tears are visible in his eyes and his voice wavers.

  “Unfortunately, despite the courage she demonstrated, her husband carried out his threat. She called me that night, panicked. I tried to get to her. But I was too late.”

  My heart drops to the pit of my stomach as I recall the night he left me for what I thought to be another woman. He claimed it was a matter of life and death. I can’t believe how true that was.

  He clears his throat, his voice becoming strong once more. “And that’s why this work is so important. Sonia had her freedom ripped from her, but our hope is that other women won’t have to suffer the same tragedy.

  “Sonia isn’t the first victim of domestic violence, and she certainly won’t be the last. But we can try to combat this epidemic, this idea of patriarchy and male dominance that seems to permeate society. Yes, men can be victims of domestic violence, too. It’s the idea of exerting power and authority over another person that needs to stop. It happens far too often and to people we never expect because of how happy they appear on the outside. Hell, Sonia always smiled, no matter what. I should have known something was off, considering my mother did the same thing…until she was murdered by her husband, my step-father, when I was twelve.”

  An eerie silence falls over the room as people absorb his confession, his truth. This is a man who’s spent the past decade in these social circles, pretending to be someone he wasn’t so they’d accept him. It warms my heart to witness him finally discuss his past so freely. I hope it will encourage more to do the same.

  “I haven’t spoken about my mother in years, not until a few months ago when I had the pleasure of meeting a woman who made me rethink everything.” He laughs slightly, a sparkle in his eyes, as if recalling happy memories. “She had this strange habit of being herself all the time, which completely captivated me, considering we all have a tendency of pretending to be someone we aren’t. Not this woman. And by being herself, she helped me see that it’s okay to talk about my past, about the skeletons in my own closet. All the past trauma, torment, hurt… She called it my ‘ugly’. And she embraced the ugly. It’s what makes us who we are. We can’t erase it. Do we wish we could? You bet your ass. Instead of doing everything to bury it, we should embrace all the pieces that make us uniquely us.

  “So tonight, in honor of Sonia, I’d like to announce the groundbreaking of a project I’ve been working on. For those who may not be aware, when I inherited Theodore Price’s fortune, I used a great deal of that money to open women’s shelters here in the Tri-state Area. A few years ago, I wanted to do something bigger, so I expanded my charitable foundation reach into every state in the country. But it still wasn’t enough. I wanted to do more. Now, thanks to all your generosity, I’m able to do that. Working with Isabella, we’ll be going overseas, helping women born in cultures where abuse is so pervasive, it’s considered normal. It’s not. And it’s my mission to help even more women realize this. Thank you.”

  Thunderous applause erupts as he steps away from the podium, pausing for a few photos before making his way from the stage. Reporters descend on him, all of them shouting questions about his identity as August Laurent. Instead of humoring them, he responds that they’ll have to wait until the February issue of Blush magazine hits the newsstands to get the answers they’re looking for. My heart expands, thinking how those magazines will now fly off shelves even more so than they would have.

  I’m so lost in the gift he’s given me I almost don’t realize he’s leaving. Snapping out of my stupor, I rush toward him, but after his revelation, it seems everyone wants to know more, people swarming him as he makes his escape. He must have predicted this would happen because two bodyguards flank him, ushering him out of the room as other security personnel escort the media from the event now that the speech portion is over.

  I call Julian’s name, but he can’t hear me over everyone else. All I can do is watch as he’s whisked away, without a single glance in my direction. As the excitement comes to an end, the sound of saxophones and piano playing a jazz standard fills the space. Out of nowhere, I hear my name.

  I whip my head up to see Sadie rushing toward me. I don’t have a second to brace myself before she barrels into me, hugging me enthusiastically. Thankfully, I’m quick enough to save the remnants of my drink from spilling.

  “I’ve missed you!”

  I still at first, surprised by her sudden attack. Then I melt into her embrace. “I’ve missed you, too, Sadie.”

  She pulls back, her eyes frenzied. “Did you know?”

  “Know what?”

  “About Julian being August Laurent? My god!” She loops her arm through mine, not taking a breath. “You were together while you were doing a story on August Laurent!” She gasps as she puts two and two together, facing me once more. “That’s why you broke up, isn’t it?”

  “It is.”

  Her brows furrow as she surveys me. “But if you broke up, why are you here?”

  I take a long sip of my manhattan, draining it. “I realized I made a mistake and came here to tell him.” I shrug in defeat. “But I missed my chance.”

  She gives me an encouraging smile, squeezing my bicep. “It’s okay. It’ll all work out. Trust me.” She winks.

  “Thanks, Sadie.” I sigh as I place my glass on a nearby hightop table. “But now that Prince Charming has left the ball, there’s no reason for Cinderella to hang around. It was great seeing you again.” I start to turn from her.

  “Wait!” she yells, forcing me to stop. I look over my shoulder at her, an eyebrow raised. Her frantic expression softens. “Since you’re already here, how about a drink? I’m buying,” she jokes, considering it’s an open bar.

  “Honestly, I’m not sure I’ll be the best company right now. I should just—”

  “Come on, Evie. One drink while I update you on all the gossip, and there is some juicy gossip. For old time’s sake.”

  On a long exhale, I reluctantly nod. “Okay. One drink. Then I’m going home and curling up on the couch with a plate of Christmas cookies.”

  “One drink. That’s all I need.”

  I follow Sadie to the bar. She orders two manhattans, then we find a hightop table in the corner. The out-of-the-way location reminds me of the day we first met when we sat at a table hidden away, which allowed her to give me the dirt on the who’s who of the Hamptons. She does the same now, updating me on affairs, unplanned pregnancies, and even a few paternity tests. It’s like being brought up to speed on my favorite soap opera.

  As she’s telling me about one of the guest’s affairs with the nanny, the music changes and the opening notes to an all-too-familiar song in three-quarter time fills the room. I stiffen, my breath hitching as memories of dancing to this song with Julian return.

  The lighting in the room lowers, apart from a spotlight on the dance floor. When I look in its direction, my heart catches in my throat at the man I see standing there, a small smile forming on his mouth. His eyes locked on mine, he extends his hand toward me.

  Sadie swipes the drink out of my hand and pushes me away from her. After passing her a look of appreciation, I slowly walk across the ballroom, the sea of people parting for me. With each step, my heart beats a little faster, my lungs struggle to capture a breath, my skin tingles with the memory of Julian’s touch.

  Approaching him, I float my gaze to his outstretched hand, briefly hesitating. His express
ion falls, panic overcoming him at the idea of me walking away.

  “Got ya,” I tease as I link my fingers with his.

  Relief rolls off him in waves and, like so many times during our summer, he twirls me around to get a better look at the dress before yanking my body against his. He places his hand on my lower back and I drape my free arm over his shoulder. Then he leads me around the dance floor to the band leader singing “Moon River”, neither one of us saying a word. There’s no need. We share a connection, one that allows us to say everything we need with a simple look.

  Months ago, it would have bothered me to share such a personal moment in the company of others. Now it doesn’t. All I see is Julian. He’s all that matters. This moment is all that matters. Not his past. Not my past. Just us. Just now. He taught me to embrace the moment, to stop living life according to a predetermined itinerary. Life doesn’t always go according to plan. Julian’s living proof of that. I’m living proof of that.

  “You came back,” I finally say once our song ends and we stop moving.

  “I’ll always come back for you, Guinevere. Always.”

  I run my hands through his sandy hair, relishing in the sensation I’d deprived myself of these past few weeks. “And I’ll always come back for you, Julian.” I bring my lips to his. “Always.”

  He cups my cheeks, his grip firm and demanding. Then he covers my mouth with his, his kiss soft, sweet, and delicious in all the ways I remember it to be. But he doesn’t stop at a simple exchange, despite our audience. He sweeps his tongue against my bottom lip, begging for entrance, which I can’t deny him. His hold on me tightens as he pulls me closer, exploring my mouth in a way that makes it feel like it’s the first time. And that’s what this is. I’m finally kissing every side of Julian Gage. And I’m willing to accept every piece of him.

  Pulling back, he rests his forehead on mine. “A symphony,” he murmurs.

  “What’s that?” I ask in a breathy voice.

  “That’s what I hear when I kiss you. Have since the very first time. And I have a feeling I will until our very last kiss, which I hope is when we’re both old and gray.”

  “Is that right?” I flirt.

  He nods slowly, his eyes locked on mine, the fire sending a chill down my spine. “That’s a promise. No more lies. No more games. Only the truth. Only you. You’re all I want. All I need. And I hope I can be that for you, too.”

  It takes every ounce of resolve I have not to melt into a puddle on the floor. The only reason I don’t is because he’s supporting me, just like he always has, both as August and Julian. Truth be told, I love both men. They’ve molded the man in front of me into the person he is. For that, I’ll always be grateful.

  “You’re more than that.” I beam, then chew on my bottom lip, my expression falling. “There’s just one thing.”

  “Anything. Whatever you want, it’s yours,” he promises in desperation.

  “Can we still play a few games?” I waggle my brows, giving him a coy smile. “Because I’d really like to try some roleplay with you.”

  His jaw clenches as his eyes widen. Then he brings his lips back to mine, his kiss ravenous and insatiable. “What am I going to do with you?”

  “I have a few ideas.”

  Before I have a chance to register what’s happening, he hoists me over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold. The entire place erupts in cheers and applause. When I hear a familiar whistle, I crane my neck up, meeting Sadie’s infectious smile. I beam at her, grateful she encouraged me to stay. The moment fills me with so much joy, I don’t even care about the scene we’re making as he carries me out of the gala, through the hotel lobby, and down the busy Manhattan sidewalk, tourists staring. It’s not until we’re a few blocks away that he finally puts me down.

  Always the gentleman, he shrugs out of his tuxedo jacket and places it over my shoulders. When I glance at the storefront to see where we are, I fall in love with him a little more.

  Tiffany’s.

  For someone who said he wasn’t cut out to be in a relationship, he sure knows how to make a woman happy.

  Brushing my hair behind my ears, he brings his hands up to my face, admiring me as the tension between us shifts from one of playfulness to one of devotion. “I love you, Guinevere Fitzgerald.”

  “And I love you, Julian Gage. And August Laurent. And any other personalities hiding in there. I love them all.”

  He chuckles, the sound exactly what’s been missing. There’s nothing like hearing him laugh. I used to be desperate to make everyone around me laugh to mask the fact I wasn’t happy with the life I’d planned. Now I only care about making Julian laugh.

  “That’s good to know, but from this moment forward, there’s no one else. Now that I finally have you, I don’t need to be anyone other than myself.”

  He brushes his lips against mine and kisses me in front of the display window of Tiffany’s. I couldn’t think of a more perfect spot to begin our story of forever. It just goes to show you. The greatest things in life can’t be planned.

  Love can’t be planned.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  I stare at the pink hue of the sky as the sun setting in the west casts a beautiful glow over the ocean outside the windows of Julian’s home in the Hamptons. A smile curves my mouth as I consider how far we’ve come since the first time I stepped foot in this house. Back then, I never would have imagined I’d be kicking off another summer with someone who was only supposed to be a fun distraction, or my key to revenge. Now I can’t imagine my life without him.

  The sound of my phone ringing tears my attention away from the stunning view. I pull it out of my clutch, grinning when I see Chloe pop up.

  “You made it!” I say as I answer her FaceTime call. “How are the islands treating you?”

  She lifts the oversized sunglasses off her eyes as she brings a tropical concoction to her lips. She flew to Hawaii early this morning, but if I didn’t know any better, I’d think she’d been there for days.

  “I may never leave.”

  I smile. “I don’t blame you. I’m counting down the hours until we hop on a plane tomorrow.”

  “Yeah,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Because you have it so rough, having to hold off on coming to Hawaii so you can go to some high-class party in the Hamptons. Let me get out my violin, Evie.”

  Shaking my head, I can’t stop the grin from crawling across my lips. She’s right. I do have it pretty good. Not only do I have an incredibly supportive man in my life, but I also have a job I only dreamed about. Thankfully, Viv knew I wasn’t thinking clearly and refused to offer the assistant editor position to anyone until the beginning of the year. By then, I’d come to my senses.

  My new position isn’t without its challenges. I wouldn’t trade it for anything, though, especially whenever I pass a newsstand and see the new edition of a magazine bearing my name as the assistant editor. You can Google me now, and the search will return information unrelated to my relationship with Julian Gage. I wouldn’t have been able to say the same if I gave up and went home to become an English teacher, as I considered when everything fell apart.

  “Have you seen Nora yet?” I ask.

  “Yes.” She rolls her eyes. “She’s in full bridezilla mode, but in the best way possible. I think you’ve rubbed off on her.”

  “How so?”

  She grimaces. “She has lists.”

  “Lists?”

  “Lists,” she repeats with a nod. “And itineraries. She has one for you when you get here.”

  “Do I want to know what’s on these lists or itineraries?”

  “I can’t say for certain what’s on yours, but based on mine, I’m convinced she’s lost her damn mind. You need to come and run an intervention. Stat.”

  I grin. “Why’s that?”

  “I thought I’d enjoy a week of relaxation before the wedding. That girl has shit scheduled every day. Sightseeing shit.”

  I stifle my laugh at the look of absolute
displeasure crossing her face. I’ve often wondered how Chloe and Nora were such good friends. While Nora’s idea of a fun vacation is packing as much sightseeing and adventure into as short a time as possible, Chloe would much prefer to sit on a beach and have attractive men bring her fruity drinks as she works on her tan.

  “At least you’re in Hawaii. It could be a lot worse.”

  “The fact that I’m in Hawaii is what makes it unbearable. I should be shacking up with some hot islander who will breathe fire in my pussy. Instead, do you want to know what I’m tasked with doing during what should be a sex-filled vacation?”

  “What’s that?”

  “Making sure Jeremy’s best man keeps his dick in his pants. Apparently, he flirts with anything with a pulse. And since Nora knows I have a low tolerance for bullshit and charm, I’ve been given this exciting task.”

  I laugh once more as Chloe brings her drink back to her lips. “I’m going to need this shit in an IV.”

  “Remember. It’s all for Nora.”

  “Yeah, well, Nora owes me after this. Anyway, I don’t want to take up much more of your time. I know you have a big thing tonight. I just wanted to call and wish you a happy birthday.” She lifts her glass once more, toasting me. “Here’s to thirty-one. May this birthday be more memorable than the last.”

  “Actually…,” I begin after a moment of contemplation, “my last birthday was pretty amazing. It just took me a while to realize it.”

  “At least you finally did.” She holds my gaze for a moment longer, then seems to look past me. I glance over my shoulder to see Julian descending the staircase. I return my eyes to my phone. “Looks like Prince Charming’s here to take you to the ball. Have a good night, Evie. And happy birthday.”

  “Thanks, Chloe. Love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  I end the FaceTime call, then drop my phone into my clutch, whirling around as Julian approaches, his impassioned gaze raking over my body. It doesn’t matter we’ve known each other a year and are past the so-called honeymoon phase. He looks at me with the same desperation and desire every time. I get the feeling he always will.