BOUND: Together

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BOUND: Together Page 33

by Cynthia Dane


  Erica emitted a primal grunt when I released her hand. I didn’t dare turn around on my way out the door. I didn’t want to be enticed into sampling what may happen that night.

  Damn. I’d have to buy the most killer dress any of those shops across the street stocked.

  Chapter 43

  ERICA

  The woman walking out of the boutique two hours later was still recognizable as my Natalie, but the fine shopkeepers had elevated her to ethereal, colorful goddess. The first thing to slap me in the face was the blazing hot yellow of her Queen Anne dress that hugged her body and made the jet black of her hair look so ravenesque that it felt like a sin to touch it with my fingertips. Had any woman pulled off bright yellow so well? It was a color every stylist I heard put down as impossible to pull off, unless the model happened to meet the perfect merger of skin tone and confidence.

  Natalie had met it. Her golden Roman sandals and dangly earrings only added to her power. Good thing I was more than ready to accept her into the passenger seat of my Lambo. I had idled by the sidewalk for more than five minutes, hoping to catch her the moment she stepped out of the boutique.

  The move had been a good one. Natalie slammed the door behind her and pulled my head in for a kiss that almost made me change gears in my damned car.

  “I’ve gotta drive.” The rush I felt as I eased her back into her seat and straightened myself up was enough to summon the paparazzi from every direction. “Although I wouldn’t mind fucking you where you sit. Damn.” There was something for the cameras to catch!

  “Keep talking like that and I might let you.”

  “Strap on your seatbelt.” I lowered my sunglasses and cranked up the stereo. The opening bars to a Depeche Mode song flooded my car. “I’m gonna get us there as quickly as possible.”

  Bridgeport was infuriatingly on the other side of downtown, and the afternoon traffic was not conducive to slamming my foot on the gas pedal and having my way with my steering wheel. Raindrops fell on my head and forced me to put the top up. It only made the music louder. It only made Natalie more randy as she leaned across the seat and stroked my arm through the fine material of my bespoke suit.

  Ten minutes. That’s how long it took us to travel fifteen blocks. I was ready to jump the valet and force him to take my keys so I had more time to wrap my arm around Natalie’s and march into the restaurant where we had reservations.

  Everyone stared at us. From the moment we approached the host’s podium, we were the object of everyone’s attention. Heiresses on dates and hanging out with friends; businessmen entertaining foreign clients who liked their meals a little exciting; anniversary dates for middle class couples. Women shot Natalie looks of jealous fury because she looked so ravishing and with a heralded “bachelor” like me. Men didn’t know if they wanted to punch me out or shake my hand – either way, they were about to fling Natalie over their shoulders or caveman-pull her out of this nice restaurant. We were that couple. The “it” couple. The couple everyone wants to be while hating themselves for it, so they take it out on us.

  They were nothing to me. Little monsters that were distractions, nipping at my heels, but never more than a bite or puncture of venom. I had the antidote on me, and its name was fuck off, I have security. Nick was the only one to follow us into the restaurant. The rest of my entourage was either in the hall or outside, keeping an eye out for tabloid trash. Oh, Natalie and I would be all over the press tomorrow, but I wanted it to be organic. I wanted these other diners to stick their phones beneath their armpits and pretend to tie their shoes while firing off a million pictures on their smart phones. Let them make a few extra bucks selling the pictures. The important thing was that we were not stalked or had our safety compromised. I’m not even sure Natalie noticed the diners pointing us out while the host showed us to our reserved table on the balcony overlooking the rest of the gallery. People still craned their heads back to look at us before going back to their food. Me? I pulled out Natalie’s chair and sat beside her. She was more radiant, more dazzling than anyone else in that place, and I fully intended to soak up the sunshine exuding from her presence.

  Do stars as heavenly as her often pull you into their folds? I have never stared at the sun for too long. Is it possible it was time to start?

  “I want to talk about us,” I said as soon as we were settled.

  “Us?”

  Her trepidation could have either meant she feared I was about to break up with her – or ask her to get more serious. “Haven’t you thought about where this might be going?”

  “Well…” Why did she look away from me? Was it too much to keep her feelings to herself? Or was she afraid that I would see her true intentions? Either way, I would lean in closer, the floral arrangement on our table determined to obscure her profile. “Not really.”

  So much for the sunlight. That was enough to cloud over any blue sky.

  “Everything has happened so quickly,” Natalie explained, “and quite frankly, I don’t want to trap myself with false hopes that may not mean anything in the end.”

  Ah, so it was fear, as I suspected. Fear that we were in an impossible situation, or that I would tire of her before long. “I understand. I often feel that way when I first meet somebody. For different reasons than you, I’m sure.”

  “I’m sure.” While Natalie did not eschew my touch, she wasn’t exactly forthcoming with her own affection. Had I pushed this issue much too soon? “Sorry. I didn’t want to make assumptions about us.”

  I grabbed her hand on top of our table. The floral arrangement – tulips, I believe – weren’t grand enough to obscure the fact we were definitely, 100% absolutely on a date. “I understand that as well. That’s why I seriously thought about what I see in our shared future.”

  “What do you see?”

  “Well, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

  “In public?” Natalie deliberately pulled away from me, her elbows an unladylike sight upon the table and her delicate fingers steepling before her contemplative visage. When she used that face at work, I was enthralled. Here, on a date? Concern gripped me. “You must want to ask me something heavy so I don’t cause a scene.”

  “Oh my God.” I laughed in disbelief. That was it? That was what she was thinking? “You’re something else, you know that?”

  “I do, actually.” Natalie did not forego her determined countenance. “I’m quite proud of being ‘something else.’ I’m always striving to stick out of the crowd and get my due attentions.”

  “It’s working.” Oh, Lord, did it work. Natalie stuck out, with or without yellow attire.

  “It must be, if you hired me.”

  As usual, she knew how to cut back to the chase. “Right. That’s something we need to talk about. Your position in the office.”

  She grimaced. “You’re not firing me, are you?”

  “No, no.” I had anticipated she might ask me that. To be fair, other men in my situation would have done that. The cleanest, easiest way to turn an employee into a girlfriend was to fire her first. Yet how could I do that to my company, when Natalie was one of the best minds and hardest workers to show up for work since I inherited my forefather’s colonial-era desk? “That would be the most foolish thing I could possibly do. Don’t you realize that you’re one of the best workers I’ve ever had in my office? Possibly in the history of Mann-Garrett? Only Brooke rivals you, and that’s because she’s been doing it a lot longer.”

  “So you’re saying that I could become the next Brooke?”

  That was a calculated question. If I wasn’t careful, I could offend my girlfriend by implying she walked into more than one of Brooke’s shoes – like becoming my next ill-fated fiancée. “I’m saying that you’re too good to be an intern. You already do the work of more than one person.”

  “There’s also the fact that you’re fucking your intern, Mr. Mann.”

  For as much bite as she held in her words, I wasn’t intimidated by how she chose to exp
ress her sentiments. She had purposely called me Mr. Mann as opposed to the more intimate Eric – or, heaven forbid, Erica – to get across what we must have looked like to everyone around us. “You’re right. It’s a PR nightmare. The less scandalous attention I call to myself, the better. For obvious reasons.”

  She nodded. “So, what are we supposed to do?”

  “Well, that largely depends on you, Natalie.” Ah, yes, a moment almost more terrifying than the first time I kissed her. “Do you want to officially be my girlfriend?”

  A flash of inner light illuminated her face. There it was: fantasies. Us, together. On vacations. In the boardroom. In my car, both the front seats and backseats. Having dinners in places like Bridgeport. Going shopping or staying home to cuddle in bed. She could have it all. She only had to say yes.

  But she wouldn’t, would she? Not right away.

  “I do like you a lot.” Damn, she was killing me. Felt like I was being let down – gently. Screw that. I wanted her hands in mine, forcing her to remember the sanctity of my touch and how good I could make her feel on a visceral level. When you meet a woman like Natalie, you don’t let her go easily, anyway. “You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever been with before. I don’t just mean the… truth… or the fact that you’re richer than Bill Gates.”

  As if. “No I’m not, but go on, keep flattering me.”

  “You’re the kind of person who keeps me on my toes and makes me constantly learn. I couldn’t be with anyone less than that. Besides… if only you knew what you did to me…”

  I grinned. That was more like it. After all, Natalie and I struggled to get much work done that week. When we weren’t in meetings or apart, we were fooling around in my office, my hand always up her skirts and her tongue halfway down my throat every five seconds. “This past week has given me a pretty good idea.”

  “I’m serious. You’re basically asking if I want to make more of my dreams come true.”

  Me? Her dreams coming true? Maybe she wasn’t letting me down! “I think you’re the one making my dreams come true.” Eat your hearts out, audience. That was me smiling like an idiot and brushing my knuckles against her cheek.

  “But what about work?”

  “We can figure something out,” I insisted. “You won’t be allowed to be an intern anymore, that’s for sure. But even if we weren’t in a romantic relationship, I would want to hire you onto my personal staff. You’re that good. Anyone who can replicate Brooke’s weird way of doing things is someone I want by my side. Will make the transition after she retires a lot easier.”

  “She’s retiring?”

  “Not anytime soon, but she’s mentioned a few times that she might retire if she has kids.” Those were the epitome of uncomfortable conversations. Watching my former fiancée marry another man was bad enough. Having her show up one day with a baby on her hip and another in her stomach would be… no, I couldn’t bring myself to think about it. Not when I was on a date with my girlfriend. “That’s a few years down the road, though.”

  “So I would be your assistant?”

  “Right now I’m thinking you’ll be given a new title to fit you into the executive fold. You won’t have to change your desk or even most of your tasks, but it would give us a lot more wiggle room to assign you more responsibilities. Who knows? Keep up the amazing work in your personal and professional lives, and you might be on the board sooner rather than later.” I waited for a reaction, but her eyes had glazed over in more thoughts. “What do you think?”

  “I think I’m excited.”

  “About work? Or the other stuff?”

  “Both!”

  I was on track to sharing her enthusiasm once more. “I never thought that a woman like you would walk into my life, Natalie. I only wish I could find other ways to show you my appreciation.”

  “You’ve taken me on this date, haven’t you? We’re already in public like this together. What else am I supposed to think other than…”

  I squeezed her hand. “You don’t understand. Life hasn’t been simple for me. I know I look like I have it all, but the kind of shit I deal with every day… in my own head… it’s rare for me to have any hope that I might be able to share my life with someone. Let alone someone who also understands the work side of my life.” That was understatement. If I wasn’t praying a woman wouldn’t scream to see my pussy, I was trying to explain that I sometimes worked eighty-hour weeks and would have to drop the occasional date to fly to London and seal a multimillion dollar deal. It was the nature of my personal life… and my professional one.

  Her fingers interlocked with mine. The drape of her hair down her arms and above her breasts made her look like a modern-day Cleopatra in that lemon-yellow dress. “In truth,” she said, “I’ve often felt the same way about my own life. We don’t have the same issues, but I’ve never been given much hope, either. Most of the men I’ve dated either see me as an Asian woman first in an attempt to fulfill their fetishistic fantasies, or they’ve resented how career-minded I am.” Her palms were sweating against mine. Did those memories of her old boyfriends really kick up her adrenaline? I didn’t know who they were… but Sherman did. All it would take was one or two calls and every deadbeat boyfriend Natalie ever had would beg for mercy. “My last serious boyfriend told me that I would never land someone if I didn’t become more domesticated. I’ve never been about that life. I don’t think about kids or becoming a housewife. I think about changing my corner of the world, whatever that means.” Her face softened. I fell in love with her all over again. “But I certainly wouldn’t mind a partner to help me.”

  “Men. Boyfriends.” All my thoughts of giving her exes a piece of my mind reminded me that the woman I possessed in my heart had never been in a real relationship with a woman before. “Sometimes I forget that you’re actually straight.”

  “Hey, now…”

  I realized what I had said. “I’m sorry. I know how confusing this can be. You thought I was a man. You were attracted to a man. I was the one who projected my relationship insecurities onto you as soon as I heard that you had once been with a woman. I forget that was only one time, and you’ve since said that it was experimentation.”

  “Erica.” Natalie’s whisper carried my real name, but it might as well have been a cry declaring me a woman to the rest of the world. I fleetingly glanced at the other diners, hoping they hadn’t heard her; I harbored a sliver of happiness that she still saw me as one, even in such masculine clothing. “You’re not experimentation to me. You’ve never been. The only experimenting I’ve done with you is getting tied up.”

  “You liked that, huh?” I’d rather glom onto that than the other thing. “The bondage.”

  “It was… something else.” This time, when her eyes glazed over, it was in a faraway fantasy. “But please don’t think I don’t know what I’m getting into. I’m fully aware what the situation is. I don’t think of you as a man anymore. Whatever that means for myself is my own thing to sort out.”

  Something she had said stuck out to the point it might as well have personally shoved me in the chest. “You are completely unable to see that side of me now?” The male side. The one I had learned about for most of my life. The one I couldn’t put away even if I told the world, “Look, I’m female. I’m pretty sure I’m a woman. Would you leave me alone now?”

  Natalie’s lips slightly parted. “You told me that you’re a woman, right?”

  In a perfect world, it would be that simple. “I think so.” I fought for more to say. Luckily, the server brought us our appetizers and bought me more time to formulate an explanation. “Like I said, I was never allowed to explore what that meant. It’s something most people take for granted.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Oh, Lord. I needed mercy. We both requested mercy. “Take yourself, for example. You’re a woman, yes?”

  “Yeah?”

  “When did you decide that?”

  “Decide what? That I’m a woman?”

&nbs
p; “Yes.”

  “I… don’t know. It wasn’t something I ever consciously decided.”

  “Because you didn’t have to.” I kept my distance. Our appetizers were untouched. “You were called a girl when you were born, and you happened to fit that description as you grew up, whatever that description meant to you.”

  I witnessed the confusion spread across her face and reach into the pits of her soul. Natalie wasn’t ignorant. She knew what I meant. I’m sure she had spent plenty of time reading the words and experiences of feminists and activists. Maybe she had been one at some point, as well. But I know better than anyone that just because someone understands a concept on a theoretical level, doesn’t mean they have any idea how to apply it to a living, breathing person. I often frustrated people. They didn’t understand. They couldn’t comprehend how much I struggled with “man” and “woman.” If I wanted to be called a woman, then why did I become angry when people completely erased all I had done to achieve my façade?

  Why did I hate it when they wrote it off as something independent from me? As something that wasn’t an intrinsic part of my life since I was a small child?

  “Imagine what it is like to be told you’re a girl the first few years of your life,” I said. “Then a tragedy happens, and suddenly every adult you trust says, ‘From now on, you are a boy. You must act like a boy. You must talk like a boy. The world can’t know that you don’t have boy parts.’ Not only do you have to hide your body from everyone around you, but you must force yourself into a new role that you’re not even sure fits you. I didn’t even have time to decide if I was a boy, a girl, or something else, whatever that is. I was pulled into two completely directions.” Did Natalie want to imagine me as a kid, sitting in the corner of her room crying because nothing made sense anymore? Because I could paint her that picture. “To this day, I still can’t confidently say that I’m entirely a ‘woman’ as the world sees them. Maybe I never will be, because of what happened to me. Where do I fit in this world? How do I tell everyone that some days I can barely breathe because I’m desperate to scream that I’m a woman who has been silenced before she had the chance to live, and sometimes I wish everyone would go along with the idea that I’m society’s answer to manhood because I’ve made peace with it?” I grabbed a grape off the appetizer plate and nearly mushed it between my fingers before it landed on my tongue. “That is my real secret.”

 

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