“Too competitive?”
“No, I——”
“Please play with us,” Maria begs as Izabella sets the board game up on the coffee table in the middle of the room.
“She’ll play,” Mr. C accepts on my behalf, a teasing smile on his lips. Erika places cushions on the ground and we all sit and choose our pieces. Then Mr. C whispers something in his daughter’s ear and she gasps and runs away with a gleam in her eyes.
“I want to be the doggy!” she yells over her shoulder.
Mr. C eyes me with a mischievous smile, one that makes him look so boyish and young but also devilishly handsome. I’m nervous now. What is he plotting?
Mrs. Conti looks between us, sitting to her husband’s right and I know she’s not comfortable with whatever is transpiring. So, I make it a point to engage Erika in conversation and ignore Mr. C while Mario plays banker and gives us all our cash.
Meanwhile Maria returns and I tidy up the board, neatening the cards so everything is in line.
Izabella, who saw me do this at dinner, and with the wrapping paper, just grins at me and lets me get on with it.
Ezra, however, gives me a smirk and a pointed look. “Leave it.”
I’m confident that he’s not about to start throwing things at me in front of his parents, so, while holding his eyes, I reach over to his side and line up his cash with the edge of the board.
“Last warning,” he tells me, still smiling at me and I wonder what people think of this exchange.
Sitting back, I take the dice and roll an eight, then move my piece along the board. It’s game on.
We go around the board once and I really do fight it, I tap my fingers on my leg and chew on the inside of my mouth, I sip my eggnog and really focus on the game. I stay in good banter and conversation with the rest of them, but it’s just itching below the surface.
Below the surface.
Below the surface.
NO!
I blow my hair out of my face and watch Erika take her turn.
She gets a community card and lifts the top one from the pile, the pile goes askew, and I automatically reach for it and crush it all back in place with the tips of my fingers.
Something stringy and pink hits my glasses. Maria falls down laughing and her dad wields a can of silly string, pointing it directly at my face.
Using the tips of my fingers, I peel the pink stuff from my glasses and glare at him.
He looks far too pleased with himself. “You were warned.”
“Oh you absolute——” I’m about to call him an asshole but then I remember Maria and just narrow my eyes on him. “No fair.”
“What are you doing?” Mrs. Conti hisses at her husband as the rest of them laugh at the hilarity of it.
“Keep playing, guys,” he tells them, ignoring his wife’s question, still looking really proud of himself.
He loves to throw things at me when I succumb to my urges. Like when he calls me into his office and I neaten whatever is on his desk, he’ll flick water at me or slap my hand with a plastic ruler or whatever is in reach that won’t do any genuine harm. If I’m too far from him he’ll throw pens at me or paperclips, again whatever he has that doesn’t do harm.
It’s become a little game of his or ours. He just laughs and ducks when I get frustrated and throw things back at him. Usually heavier things than what he throws at me.
Three rounds later, with me constantly twitching during conversation I absentmindedly move a couple of houses on the board and more silly string hits me in the face.
“Will you stop that?” I growl, rolling up the string into a ball and throwing it at him.
“Don’t be rude to our guest,” Mario defends me, I love him even more now.
Mr. C squirts him in the face too and Mario just gives him a deadpan look as he pulls the pink from his cheek and shoulder.
Maria and her father fall around giggling like little children and I can forgive him for picking on me purely because I get to see how much love they have for each other. I don’t mind being the butt of the joke for the night, not when the reaction is so heartwarming. I love seeing families playing, especially because I never had one.
Izabella places her hand on mine as though hearing my thoughts and squeezes. She doesn’t say anything; we just sit like that for a while until it’s my turn to roll.
“Fair warning,” I say the next time he squirts me. “I will rain hell on you in the office when we go back.”
“Bring. It. On.”
Chapter Sixteen
He is so much fun.
New Year’s Eve is almost over before I know it, and what a night it has been. Laurie has particularly bad tics tonight and threw two drinks by mistake in the last place we frequented. We ended up getting her a plastic bottle with a pull top for her to use instead. It has been a lot better since that genius idea, thank you, me, despite the fact we had to run from three girls whose dresses she ruined.
We are incredibly drunk, have been dancing all night, and Pax has called me constantly. So constantly I have had to block his number. Laurie talked me into it, said his behavior is alarming. She might be right about that, but I still feel I should allow him to explain himself. Just not tonight. Not on a night meant for fun.
I stopped calling him on Christmas Day after a talk with Izabella. She gave me her wisdom on how he’s an ass and I have to agree. Whatever I did, I didn’t deserve him ghosting me like that.
Yet, surprisingly, since this morning he has called me a lot. I wasn’t expecting him to. I genuinely believed we were done and have been getting myself in the right frame of mind to accept that.
I don’t know if he’s back because I stopped calling, or if he’s only now calming down. Whatever the reason, I’m not interested… not right now anyway. I’m mad and hurt which is to be expected.
I genuinely did love him, I still do too. He was a fucking whirlwind, so fun and charming and he made me feel sexy, until recently when he made me feel like I wasn’t enough in the same night he left me because I embarrassed him… by not being enough.
I try not to think about it. It makes me angry and I’m too drunk to be angry.
Laurie and I scream the countdown, although she mostly just screams random words instead of numbers and I am now realizing I only have a handful of people I want to send a HAPPY NEW YEAR to. I make it my resolution to be friendlier this year and expand my group of people.
Rose: Happy New Year, Izabella. Thank you for being so kind to me.
Izabella: Happy New Year to you too, sweet girl. I will call you tomorrow, we’ll plan a dinner.
Rose: Happy New Year, Mr. C. Thanks for being an AWESOME boss and sometimes friend. Don’t dance too much and hurt your old man joints. X
So I’m not sure they’re typed exactly the way I’m saying them in my head, but close enough.
My phone rings as I’m waiting in the girls’ room for a stall to free up.
“Yellooooo?” I answer drunkenly, snorting at how dumb I sound.
“I called to tell you that I’m not an old man, you little shit, but I am already at home, in my slippers, drinking whiskey alone.”
“That’s devastating, Mr. C, you’re letting every middle-aged man down. Way to be a team player.”
“I’m not middle-aged, I’m thirty-seven.”
I giggle into the receiver. “Thirty-eight in two months.”
“Thank you for keeping track of my age,” he replies in jest. “What are you doing?”
“I’m in club ninety-nine with Laurie. It’s great but she’s wayyyy drunk and her tics are crazy. What are you doing?”
“I already told you.”
Right… duh.
“Where’s Maria?” I ask, shuffling a few steps to the left as the massive line moves along.
He clears his throat. “They’re all with Elizabeth’s parents.”
“And you’re not because…?”
“Because I got bored.”
“You can always join me
if you like? This club doesn’t close until sunrise.”
He hesitates and I can just tell he’s thinking about it. “No… you have a good night. Call me if you need a ride.”
“We’re good, we’re only a few blocks from home, but thank you, Mr. C.”
“Ezra,” he corrects, and I giggle again. “Happy New Year, Rose.”
“Happy New Year, Ezra.”
I wonder if he’s smiling like I am right now. I hope he is.
* * *
“Would it be weird if I go and have dinner with your mom tomorrow?” I ask Mr. C as we stroll towards the waiting car.
It’s the second of January and everybody is a bit glum now that the holiday season is over. I’m glad to have been out of the office for most of the day thus far, taking notes and recording Mr. C’s presentation for another potential buyer and investor into his company’s solar tech.
He opens the door for me, I climb in and shuffle over and then he climbs in after me, smelling all citrussy and fresh.
“She likes you. So does Erika actually, and my dad. And Erika doesn’t like many people. Why would it be weird?”
I bite on my lip. “Your wife doesn’t like me.”
His head swings around to me, he looks surprised and I feel surprised that I even brought his wife into the conversation. I try to actively avoid talking about her. She’s not as rude to me anymore as she used to be, but she does look at me weirdly, like she’s assessing everything I do.
I still see Maria often and take her to soccer, I enjoy my days with her, but Mrs. Conti has this incredible ability to make you feel wanted and needed, but also super inferior. She acts like she’s grateful for all I do for her, but it never feels sincere. I know she’d stop me from seeing Maria in an instant if she thought I was after her husband, she’s a very jealous person. Margot, her housekeeper, told me that’s why she never talks, especially not to Mr. Conti. She said their last two nannies and a maid were fired because of the way they spoke to Mr. Conti. Apparently, they were, too flirtatious.
According to Margot, she’s heard them arguing over me too, but I told her not to elaborate. I don’t want any part of their marriage. If she’s got an issue with me then it’s her problem because I would never try and take her husband. That’s not the kind of person I am.
Although we did sit in her kitchen and have coffee together just two days ago… coffee I made but still. Progress.
“I mean… I don’t want to cause issues by hanging around all the time.”
His eyes darken as the driver pulls away from the curb. “Has Elizabeth said something to you?”
Could that be what they’ve argued over about me? The fact I’m often around?
“No! No. Honestly, since everything she’s a lot nicer.” I don’t know why but I place my hand on his thigh. “I’m not about to start insulting your wife. I didn’t… I just don’t want to step on anybody’s toes.”
I remove my hand when he shifts on the spot. I’m not sure if it’s because of me that he squirmed in such a way or not but I don’t want to make him uncomfortable.
He grabs his tablet from his briefcase and puts it on his lap, turning it on before opening his emails. “You’re not stepping on anybody’s toes. My mom adores you, Rose. It’s all good.”
I smile at him, feeling elated because I was worried he’d be upset with the situation. “Thanks, Ezra.”
“No problem,” he replies, sounding strained.
“Are you feeling okay?” I ask, laughing gently. “You sound off.”
“I’m fine,” he replies, his eyes still on his tablet. “Can you just focus on your job and less on me?”
My lips part at his harshly spoken dismissal.
“Of course, Mr. Conti,” I mutter and see him flinch, but he doesn’t say anything else.
After around ten minutes of near silence, I broach a new work topic, “What’s on the agenda for the rest of the day?”
“You need to book your annual leave; the year is almost over.”
“Do I have to?”
“It’s the law.”
“Says who?”
“Law people.”
I laugh, throwing my head back with it. “Law people.” We share a smile. I love it when he graces me with his boyish side, he doesn’t display it enough and he can be so much fun when he wants to be. “Can’t I transfer it to next year?”
“You’re going to have to because your twelve months of employment are up.”
“Good point. Also…” I chew on my lip. “My contract ends in six months.” This has been a topic I haven’t dared bring up because I’m terrified he won’t keep me on. I don’t want to start somewhere new all over again. I love my job.
“You’ll be signing another as soon as it does, don’t you worry about that,” he murmurs, still looking at his tablet but he only seems to be scrolling through emails without actually looking at them. Is he just trying to look busy?
When his phone rings I’ve never seen him look so relieved.
He’s so weird sometimes.
I tap my fingers on the leather interior as he has his conversation but he reaches for my hand with his and squeezes it so I can’t move it at all. It’s not that it annoys him, he’s just trying to help me curb the habit. I do it a lot less in his presence because of it.
When I start tapping with the other one, he gives me a pointed look and I stop instantly. But his hand doesn’t lift from mine and I wonder if he even realizes he’s still holding it.
“Get it to Rose by the end of the day,” he tells whoever is on the phone and then hangs up. I wish I was listening to his call. I have no idea what I’m being sent or what I’m supposed to do with it.
“My fingers are numb,” I utter, and he looks down at my hand trapped beneath his against the leather between us.
“Sorry.” After finally letting me go, he starts on his tablet again and doesn’t make conversation at all while I flex my fingers and fight the urge to start tapping them again.
“I’ll take a week soon, okay? I’ll sort the office out too and get everyone in order but I’m not letting anybody use my desk. Understood?”
“Yes, boss,” he jokes, grinning at me now and not his tablet. “It’ll be hard without you.” He quickly corrects himself with wide eyes. “Work… work will be hard without you. You’re an excellent PA.”
What else could he have meant for him to correct himself?
“If you need me, just call. I’ll be bored anyway. I might steal your child.”
“I’m sure she’d love that.”
“I’m not kidding,” I respond, laughing. “You think I’m kidding but I’m not. I’m going to be bored out of my mind.”
His tone is warm and kind when he says, “You’re so good with Maria. I can’t remember if I ever thanked you for that.”
“I love her. I really wish she was mine.” I close my eyes with exasperation at myself and count to six to gather my thoughts. Then I ramble, “Not that I want to have your babies or anything… I just meant that because she’s and I’m… I love her. I hope when we have a daughter, she’ll be like her.” FUCK. “Not we as in you and me… but we as in… I don’t even know what I’m saying anymore.”
Mouth meet foot.
“What’s wrong with me that you don’t want my babies?” he jokes to lighten my embarrassment.
I smack him on the chest. “Don’t tease me.”
“Don’t be so easy to tease.”
I stick my tongue out at him and tap the tablet on his lap. “Go back to mindlessly scrolling through emails in a bid to ignore me.”
“I wasn’t ignoring you.”
“Lies.”
He chuckles and does exactly what I told him to do until we pull up outside of the office and get back to work. Little does he know I’ve got something super special planned for him on Tuesday.
Little did I know that Pax had something special planned for me too, except today, not Tuesday.
Waiting on my desk is a huge bouqu
et of flowers, a box of expensive-looking chocolates, and a large wrapped box that I daren’t open.
“Wow…” I mutter, cringe smiling at the sight. This is so embarrassing. Couldn’t he have brought these to my house?
Mr. C mutters something unintelligible under his breath and slams his office door behind him, leaving me to deal with this alone.
I move the flowers to the window ledge and reach for the card.
“Forgive me. I was an ass.
I love you.
P
Xxx”
Strong arms wrap around me from behind, holding my back to a toned chest.
He picks me up so my feet are dangling off the floor and I can hardly breathe.
“Say you’ll forgive me?” Pax whispers in my ear, kissing the shell and then my neck. “I won’t put you down until you do.”
“I’m not a handbag, I’m heavy. You’ll have to put me down eventually.” I can’t help but feel a little bit happy about his groveling.
“Forgive me?”
“I still don’t know what I did wrong.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong; it was me; I was jealous that your attention wasn’t on me all night and even more jealous when you chose to wear something he gave you over something I gave you.”
He puts me down so I can turn in his arms. “I didn’t realize that’s what…” I sigh. “I’m sorry. Honestly, you don’t have to worry about me and Mr. Conti. He’s married and I’m with you. I’m not going to ruin that.” His smile is blinding but I stop him as he swoops in for a kiss. “But please don’t do that again. If you want to get mad, get mad, but talk to me about it so I can fix it. I couldn’t eat or sleep. That’s not fair.”
“I know. I behaved like a child,” he whispers, pecking my lips as often as he can.
“I’m not denying you your epiphany,” I respond, feeling a lot lighter than I have all week. “One more chance. I’m not putting myself through this three times. Twice is my limit.”
Becoming His Mistress Page 12