I wonder how many other women already have.
I slap him around the face harder than I’ve ever slapped anyone around the face. My hand stings and a shiny red welt shows up across his cheek.
We stare at each other but it’s me who speaks first and my words are dripping with vehemence. “Consider this my two weeks’ notice.”
“Oh shit, what did I miss?” Robert asks, appearing from his room at the exact moment I needed him to. “Why’d she quit? What happened?”
“Rose,” Mr. Conti calls as I walk away from both of them. “Rose… I’m sorry.”
“Don’t ever speak to me again,” I reply. “We are no longer friends.”
“Oh shit, you did something really bad.”
“Shut up, Robert.”
I walk away, ignoring them both, feeling my lips tingle and burn so desperately. Truth be told, I didn’t think I had the power to push him away, but I can’t be her. I can’t be the other woman. I can’t be the reason Maria has two homes, and that’s how these things always end.
Chapter Twenty-Two
He wants me.
“Please, just let me explain, or apologize…” He tries to speak to me repeatedly, but I plug in my headphones and ignore him. I’m not going to be some notch on his adulterer bed post. I’m nobody’s second best. I don’t want a man who is already married. No matter how badly I wanted that kiss he so desperately gave me.
I can resist desire. I know I can. That’s all this is.
When I unplug my headphones to give my ears a break, I can hear Robert and Mr. C talking quietly. The sound carries to the back of the private jet where I’ve burrowed into a seat with a blanket and my phone.
I strain to hear them but catch bits and pieces.
“You wouldn’t wake up, my keycard was in your room, I couldn’t be bothered to go to the reception.”
“That’s not…” Mr. C trails off for a moment. “… So, you didn’t sleep with her?”
“We slept, she rejected my advances if that’s what you’re wondering.” He laughs quietly. “Why do you care, Ezra? What does it matter if I fuck your staff? She’s not my staff.”
“I don’t want her to get hurt.”
“She looked pretty hurt by you before we left.” He glances my way, but I avert my eyes and make it look like I’m playing on my phone. I can see the back of Mr. Conti’s head from where I’m sitting and see all of Robert’s face. “What happened?”
“Nothing,” he lies and my heart sinks further. Just another lie he’s going to go and tell his wife.
“Didn’t look like nothing. What’s going on with you, Ezra? You’re distracted at the moment, you never go home…”
Whatever he replies I don’t hear because we hit some mild turbulence and the plane starts to rattle.
Turbulence doesn’t bother me so long as I distract myself, I’m used to it for the most part. We travel so much it’s inevitable.
I touch my fingers to my lips, still unable to believe that he kissed me.
He actually kissed me, and I said no.
I’m stronger than I thought.
We all return to our seats and buckle in, I’m annoyed when Mr. Conti takes the seat next to me as the plane gets a bit rocky. He straps in around the middle and reaches over to give my belt a tug. That’s something he does every time. It must be a habit but right now I don’t want his hands on me.
“I have it, thanks.”
“Can we talk?”
“No.”
“Rose, I——”
I look at him in the eyes, giving him a stern appraisal. “I said, no. I don’t ever want to talk about that.”
“I was angry, and hurting, and I’d just had an argument with my wife——”
My jaw hits the floor and my eyes widen. So I was just a filler while he dealt with his emotions?
“Shouldn’t have gone for that pitch,” Robert mutters from the seats behind us.
I’m guessing he knows Mr. C kissed me or tried to.
“Shut up, Robert,” he seethes and looks at me again. “I don’t want anything from you, Rose. I was just… hurting and you were there. I’m sorry. I should have had more respect for you than that.”
“Can we stop talking about this now? God. This is… this just… Fuck. No.” I unbuckle my seat angrily, grumbling under my breath about stupid men, as my cheeks heat from the embarrassment of this situation.
“If you move seats, I’m just going to follow you,” he points out, smiling with mischief.
I buckle myself back in, smacking at his hands when he tries to tighten it and check how safe it is. My cheeks are aflame, and my eyes fiery.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, placing his hand on mine. “Don’t quit.” His thumb rolls over the back of my hand. “Please. Can we just pretend it didn’t happen? I love my wife, you know this, you know I’d never purposely hurt her.”
I want to ask him what would have happened if I’d kissed him back. I want to ask him would he have followed me back to his hotel room or mine? Would we have fucked and ruined everything we’ve worked for?
Instead, I don’t reply, I play on my phone and the turbulence finally clears. He doesn’t move, nor does he let go of my hand and I relax, letting him hold it for a while. It’s the only guilty pleasure I’ll allow myself when it comes to him.
I’ve got to really watch myself around him now, another stress I just don’t need. Ugh. Why did he have to kiss me? Why did he have to take that step?
I leave them at LAX when we touch down, getting a cab on company dime back home but what I find has me shrieking and almost vomiting.
My car tires have all been let down, my car that was only repaired a few days ago. Acid has been poured all over the glossy paintwork and the word whore has been written on the hood.
My house is no different. My door has the scarlet letter A and my windows have all been sprayed with vile words. Insults. Despicable insults.
I take pictures using my phone, my hands tremble making the photos blurry. I try to calm down to get clearer images but it’s hard.
Tears blur my vision, angry fucking enraged tears. I’m so mad. How dare he?
I unlock the entrance door and stomp to my apartment. The door isn’t damaged, but he could have broken in elsewhere. I’m careful when I enter, crouching down just in case he tries to grab me, but once inside I realize nothing has been touched and nobody is here.
I’m trembling so rapidly my teeth are chattering.
“Hey, Rose?” My upstairs neighbor pushes the door I left open. “I called the police when I saw it this morning. They came out and told me to tell you to give them a call as soon as you get back. They’re checking local surveillance, but I doubt they’ll catch whoever it was. I have the details you need.”
I wipe my eyes. “I’m so sorry, Betty. I don’t know why this is happening.”
“I know. It’s not your fault. Some people are just seriously disturbed. You should consider staying somewhere else for a while. You’re obviously not safe here.”
“I think you might be right,” I breathe, sniffling.
She wraps her arms around me, giving me an awkward, brief, yet comforting hug. “It’ll get better. He’ll move on eventually. Is there anyone I can call for you?”
I shake my head. “I’ll handle it. But thank you.”
“Well, why don’t you come upstairs and sit with me while you do it?”
I consider it but the last thing I want is to drag my neighbors into my mess any more than I have. “Thank you so much but I’m okay. I appreciate the offer.”
She senses my need for space and leaves me to it. The moment the door closes I scream and knock everything off my kitchen counter. Wooden spoons and other utensils scatter over the floor.
I call the police and tell them about Pax and they promise to look into it. I call Laurie after sending her photos, but she doesn’t answer. She’s got a friend’s kid’s baptism this week over in Michigan. I completely forgot.
Thi
s is why it sucks to not have family. For the first time in years I truly feel the loss and abandonment that I thought I was surely over.
It’s an hour later when Laurie calls me, and I sob down the phone to her. She cries too, scared for me and sad that she can’t get back yet. There are no flights, but even if there was a flight, I wouldn’t let her take it.
“I wish I knew what to do,” she mutters. “I feel useless.”
“Me too,” I reply, feeling for the mace spray in my pocket. “I’ve put in a report about him but what if it makes it worse? They’ll question him, they won’t be able to prove anything and then he’ll just get worse.”
“He’ll get bored. He’s just sour that you’ve left him and even more sour that you went away with Mr. Cuntyflaps.”
“Don’t call him that,” I grumble, feeling defensive of him despite the fact he doesn’t deserve it right now.
Somebody calls her name in the background.
“You go,” I say to her softly and reassuringly, “I’ll be fine.”
“Will you?”
“You know I will. And I want to hear all about your tics during the service.”
“Oh, honey… it was hell. I’ll call you later.”
We disconnect the call and I suddenly feel so alone again. My eyes are stinging from how much I’ve been crying and am still crying.
I sit alone in my apartment, jittery, nervous, clicking a pen and squeezing my stress ball. I have a can of mace beside me and I’m ready to use it if necessary.
Rose: Why are you doing this to me?
My phone rings, it’s Pax. I shouldn’t answer but I’m so mad.
“Why are you doing this?” I ask, sniffling clear enough for him to hear. “I haven’t done anything to you. I was never bad to you.”
“I’ll come over; we can talk face to face.”
“No,” I reply firmly. “Just leave me alone. Stop torturing me and leave me the fuck alone.”
I hang up and block all incoming calls. I can still call the cops if I need but Pax can’t call me now.
What did I ever do to anyone to deserve this?
There’s a knock at my door which is odd because I didn’t hear the buzzer sound.
I hug a pillow tighter to my chest. Is it him? I daren’t move.
“Rose? It’s me, Izabella, I’m coming in, okay? Your neighbor is with me, Betty. She’s going to use the spare key.”
I get up and pad to the door before they can use said key and the moment Izabella’s kind eyes and face come into view I break down and sob into her shoulder.
“Oh, sweet girl,” she whispers, holding me like I imagine my mother would have. She strokes my hair and rocks us both. “It’s going to be okay.”
I lean back and wipe my eyes on a tissue I grab off the counter. “How did you know?”
“Laurie called.”
My heart warms for my friend.
“But you should have called me.”
“I didn’t want to bother you,” I say, still trembling with adrenaline and fear.
Hey gray eyes glow with sorrow. “You could never bother me. We’re friends.” Will she still want to be my friend if she knows that Ezra tried to kiss me this morning?
“Please don’t tell Mr. Conti,” I beg, “I don’t want to cause anymore issues at work.”
“He should know what his psychopathic staff are doing. Have you reported it to HR?”
I nod. “I did all of that today.”
“Then he might know already.”
“He’s home with his wife and I asked them to keep it quiet. I don’t want anybody thinking I’m causing drama.”
She smiles softly, her eyes still sad and concerned. “You can’t help that you chose the wrong guy. This is not your fault.”
“You shouldn’t be dragged into this either. I don’t know the extent of his crazy. You should go.”
“Not without you,” she states, pulling me towards my bedroom. “Pack what you need, you’re coming to stay with me and Mario until it’s safe to go home.”
“But…”
“No buts. Come on. We’ve got space.”
I consider my options and realize hers is the best option I have. “Thank you, Izabella.”
“No thank-yous, just move your butt. Mario is standing outside with a gun in its holster and a baseball bat at the ready. He thinks he’s Rambo, even in his old age.”
I giggle and it feels so good to giggle.
I empty my suitcase and pack it fresh, laughing when Izabella picks up some of my lacy undergarments. “Well… these are pretty.” I snatch them from her hand while laughing and stuff them into my case. “Your bedroom is so organized. Maybe even more so than mine and I pay a person. Perhaps I should start paying you.”
“I might take you up on that soon,” I jest, thinking of the notice I handed in to Mr. C today.
“You’re quitting your job?”
I nod and let her assume it’s because of Pax.
“That’s probably for the best, get you out of that psychopath’s environment.” I’m surprised she agrees so easily. “Unfortunately, even in this era men still outrank women when it comes to harassment.”
Izabella is more the type to tell me to not let him win and to fight for the job I love. So, this has confused me to no end.
“You’re right.” I sigh heavily, feeling the weight of everything pressing on my shoulders and back. “I’m so tired, I’m still hungover after last night. I’m not going to be good company,” I add on a whisper and she cups my cheeks with her hands.
“We’ll get you home, run you a bath, get you fed and rested and you’re to take tomorrow off.”
I don’t tell her that it’s my day off anyway I just nod, zip up my neatly packed case and head out after her.
Mario is waiting by the door like she said with a baseball bat in his hand. When he sees me, he gives me a sideways hug and leads us to his car.
I sit in the back listening to them bicker like the married couple that they are as they drive me to their house, which is a good hour away. Pax won’t follow us there. I hope. Maybe I should have gotten a hotel instead. What if he damages their property too?
Chapter Twenty-Three
He makes time for his wonderful family.
It’s late, really late, maybe one in the morning when I hear the door open and then feel the bed dip beside me, startling me so strongly I turn over, ready to spray mace and blind us both. I’ve not slept yet. I’m tired but I don’t feel safe and I don’t have my own bedding. I don’t think I’ve stopped crying either for a while. When do tears run out? I once read that if you keep crying and crying, eventually you just fall asleep.
That hasn’t happened yet.
“Ezra?” I whisper as he pushes his arm under my neck and pulls me into his body. He’s on top of the quilt so there’s a good two inches of thick padding separating us.
“Shhh,” he whispers soothingly while tucking my head under his chin. “We’ll fix this. I swear it.”
I absorb his warmth and kindness, feeling safe for the first time since that plane touched down.
I don’t care that this might be inappropriate or against the rules. I don’t care if this upsets anybody. I just care that right now I feel safe and protected and warm. My trembling body slowly calms down and I feel my breath even out. He holds me tight until I tug on the blanket, needing more of his body than what he should give me.
He looks at the door and then back and me and rolls off the covers before pulling them back and climbing back in bed with me.
We tangle together again, my thigh between his, my head on the same pillow as his. I hold him tight like I don’t ever want to let go, and truth be told, I don’t. Our eyes meet in the dark and he strokes my cheek with the tips of his fingers. It feels so nice and relaxing, but also arousing.
“I’m sorry I didn’t kiss you back,” I say quietly, and he pushes my hair back.
“I’m sorry I kissed you at all,” he replies just as quietly, and I
know in my heart he means because of how he upset me and not because he didn’t want to kiss me. The look in his eyes is showing me that he still does. I wonder if the look in mine is begging him to kiss me again. I might not say no this time. “Try to sleep.”
I press my forehead to his cheek and close my eyes on his command. He tickles my arm and shoulder as I concentrate on the beating of his heart.
It lulls me to sleep, my forbidden lullaby.
* * *
I’m awoken by the sound of Izabella hissing in the darkness, though I don’t open my eyes. I daren’t see the face of the woman who just walked in on her married son in bed with another.
“It’s not like that,” Ezra hisses back and I stay breathing softly, keeping my eyes closed as he untangles my body from his, leaving me feeling cold and no longer safe. “Not here, she’ll wake up, she hasn’t slept.”
They leave the room, arguing under their breaths and the door clicks shut behind them. My heart races as I consider what just happened.
She’s going to think we’re having an affair; I should have backed him up and said something.
I need to stop being such a coward.
I climb out of bed, my bare feet hit the cold wooden floor.
Stretching tall, I click my spine and prepare myself for the moment to come. What will I say to her about how she found us? How will I explain that we’re just friends? Is that what we are? Have I been lying to myself?
I’ve never been inappropriate with him, or I’ve tried not to be. Sometimes things happened, odd touches and looks that could be construed as intimate, but what happened last night has never happened before. She must know I was just looking for comfort and Ezra offered it. What was he doing here in the middle of the night anyway? Did she call him? She never promised she wouldn’t. It was unfair of me to ask her to lie to her son and unfair of me to come here at all.
Becoming His Mistress Page 18