Nothing else mattered but him and me.
Jax collapsed on top of me, his heartbeat thudding loudly in my ear. His breathing was heavy. We were both out of breath, our bodies still recovering from the pleasure.
Even still, Jax took my face in his hands and kissed me gently. In the midst of all the hard and wild sex, it seemed out of place; almost too intimate. But I couldn't pull away, even though I knew I should have.
It was clear, then, that I was way out of my depth. I feared that I had started something that neither of us were going to be able to walk away from very easily.
No, we were both about to get burned.
And there was nothing I could do to stop it.
ooo000ooo
I woke before Jax and stared at him for a long time. He was so gorgeous when he slept. So peaceful. When he was awake, he almost always looked tense. But asleep, he was relaxed and content.
That was it, though. It had to be. I had to go back to my penthouse and stop ignoring my responsibilities. I'd need to face Derek, tell him that it was really over. I'd need to stand up to my parents too. It was a time for change, for growth. It would be hard, but it had to be done.
And I had to do it alone.
Maybe one day I could find love, but for now, I needed to focus on my career. I needed to worry about the PR nightmare that would unfold in the next few weeks, once the media heard about the cancelled wedding. There was so much I had to do to save face in the press and dating someone new right off the bat would make it look like I was the one to blame for the demise of Derek any my relationship. That would not do.
Besides, Jax needed to find someone more like him, I told myself. My life would only complicate his, and he didn't need any more stress in his life.
He'd find himself a good girl, someone who he could live a simple life with, free from the cameras and the media.
Still, my heart ached. We'd barely known each other, but I felt something with him that I'd never felt with Derek. He made me laugh harder than anyone. He made me smile. He made me forget about all the crap in my life and feel like I was normal, if only for a bit.
But we both knew it wouldn't last.
Jax's eyes opened slowly, and when he caught me staring, he covered his face up with a blanket, groaning. “Why are you staring at me?”
I chuckled, pulling the blanket away. “Because you're nice to look at, that's why.”
“But it's creepy,” he teased, sticking his tongue out at me playfully.
“No, it's romantic,” I said.
“We're not supposed to be romantic though,” he said.
Maybe I'd imagined it, but there was a touch of pain in his voice. I felt those words like a dagger in my heart. They hurt more than they should have.
“You're right. And besides, I need to get up and get ready for work,” I said.
I didn't make any movement to get out of bed, however. I didn't want to leave the warm, safe nest we'd built for ourselves in the night.
Jax reached out and stroked my cheek, pushing the hair back from my face. His eyes were locked on mine, and my heart raced. God, the way he looked at me... I’d never doubted I was an attractive woman, but Derek had never looked at me the way Jax did. Like Jax saw something no one else did in me; something even more beautiful than the moon and stars on a clear night.
“Please come see Hamilton with me tonight,” he said, speaking fast so I couldn't interrupt him. “It's not a date, I promise. A friend gave me tickets, and he'd kill me if I didn't use them. I don't want to go alone.”
I sighed. “Why don't you ask your friend?”
“He has to work. Besides, I don't want to take another guy to a musical. People might start talking, you know?”
I chuckled, shaking my head. I wanted to go, I really did. The idea of going to see my favorite musical with him, a guy that made me laugh so easily, sounded like an ideal way to spend the night. After everything I'd been through lately, it sounded very nice.
“Please?” he begged playfully. “Pretty, pretty please with a cherry on top?”
I couldn't stop the smile on my face, and he grinned too. His face took on an almost boyish look when he was happy, and it was clear he was as happy as I was.
His smile did me in. I told myself it would be okay, I'd make sure to disguise myself well. I could do it. Just one more night with Jax before all hell broke loose. “Fine,” I said. “I'll go.”
He kissed me deeply, and we both fell into a case of the giggles. I felt like a teenager all over again, rolling around in bed, laughing and kissing.
And I didn't want it to end.
Madeline
Shit. What had I done? After Jax left, I was alone in Allison's apartment contemplating ways I could get out of our date. I was also in the middle of getting dressed to head back into the office and face reality. All of it was a bit too much, and it was tempting to take another personal day. If I wasn't so keen on impressing my dad, I might have done so. But too many days off in a row would make me look lazy, and God knew, it was not the time for that.
I looked in the mirror and spoke to myself. “You can do this, Madeline. You can face off against Derek, your father, anyone who gives you crap today. You've got this.”
My hair was still brown, the temporary dye had barely faded at all. It didn't look terrible, but it was obviously not a professional job. It lacked highlights and lowlights, and it wasn't the most complementary color for my skin tone. Most people wouldn't have noticed or cared, but I wasn't most people. I personally didn't care, of course, but I knew others would pay attention and ask questions about it.
I had to be prepared for anything.
With a sigh, I pulled my hair back into a low bun. Tendrils fell around my face, softly brushing along my jaw line. My blue eyes looked so sad staring back at me. I looked wary and battle-scarred. Not too far from the truth, honestly.
I quickly got dressed in my designer pantsuit. Simple grey with a lighter grey top. It was fitting for the day, and even the sky outside seemed to match my mood. It wasn't raining, but the clouds were heavy and preparing to open up on us. I made sure to grab an umbrella before heading downstairs.
I turned on my phone and found twenty-two missed calls from that morning alone. It wasn't even eight am yet. Sure, I was often in the office before seven most days, but I didn’t always answer calls or emails before then, preferring to get some things done in the quiet before the rest of the staff rolled in.
I scrolled through the messages. Several from Derek, of course. Several more from my father. And a couple from Julia. I decided to check her messages first.
“Hey Madeline. It's me,” she laughed nervously, “Just wondering where you're at. Pierre Chevalier is here, and I'm trying to hold him off, but--”
Shit. My heart raced as I hung up, not needing to listen to the rest of the message to understand what was happening. I had a meeting scheduled for eight that morning, one that had been on the books for a month, with a new design firm. It had taken forever to get on Pierre's schedule, and there I was about to screw everything up.
I quickly called Julia back. She answered on the first ring.
“Madeline! Oh God, where are you?”
“I'm on my way,” I said. “I'm sorry. Are you able to hold things down until I get there, in about twenty minutes?”
“Derek is currently in the meeting room with him,” Julia said.
Fuck. I rarely swore, but this was a time for swearing. Derek was meeting with my client, the client I'd spent months romancing. Just like that, all my hard work could go down the drain, and he could get credit for it.
“Julia, I hate to ask this, but can you do something - anything - to keep them from talking? I can't have him swooping in and stealing my client,” I said, biting my lip.
I hailed the nearest cab, having no time to pick up my car from the valet. It wasn't worth it. I hopped into the cab and told him where to go, before getting back to Julia on.
“Julia? Please, anythin
g you can do--”
“I'm on it, boss,” she said. “Just get here, quickly.”
She hung up, and I cursed myself for the entire cab ride to the office. Of all days to decide to be late, it was one of the most important days of my career. I had secretly set all of this up, as a surprise for my father, to prove that I could woo the top names in the industry all on my own. And there I was, this close to screwing it all up.
“This is fine,” I said, stopping the cab a few blocks from the office. The traffic was backed up, I'd get there faster by walking. I over-tipped him, simply because I didn't want to bother waiting for change or for my card to go through. I climbed from the cab and booked it toward the building. The streets were crowded with people, and I had to continually dodge tourists as I rushed toward my office.
Please, let it not be too late, I prayed to anyone who would listen to me.
The doorman opened the door with an odd look on his face.
“Morning, Miss Byers,” he said.
“Morning, Gilbert,” I said, rushing inside and off toward the elevator.
I dug through my bag until I found my badge, holding it up the reader until the doors of the elevator opened up. Stepping in, I pressed the button and kept pressing the door button to close. My heart was racing and sweat dripped down my brow. Never again would I let my guard down and forget about what really mattered, I promised myself. Never again would I be so stupid. Just please, let me get there before it's too late.
The elevator doors closed, but it felt like an eternity to get to the top floor of the building. Twenty floors. Each one seemed to move slower and slower. At nineteen, I was standing at the door, ready. When the doors opened on the twentieth floor, I hurried out - and ran smack dab into the one person I wanted to see least in the world.
Derek scowled at me, rubbing at his shirt with a paper towel. “You really need to fire your assistant,” he said.
Coffee stained the entire front of his light blue dress shirt, and it took everything in me not to crack a smile.
“Thankfully I have my dry cleaning in the car,” he said, shaking his head in disgust.
At one time, I thought Derek was one of the most handsome men in the world. With his almost jet-black hair and Sicilian olive complexion, he was the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome. He had always been incredibly attractive, and he knew it. His designer suit hugged his lean, muscular build, and that used to taunt me like crazy. I used to yearn for him every single day, until my body literally ached with a need. It made working with him hard, to say the least.
But now, he looked like any other man to me. I noticed the gray hair at his temples, the frown lines around his mouth. He was still an attractive man, sure, but nothing like he used to be. At least not to me. Now, he was just any other man. Scratch that - he was not just any other man. I actually found him pretty disgusting to look at now, but that was more personal than physical.
I pushed past Derek, but he grabbed my arm before I could get too far. Turning on my heels, I glared at him, ready to fight. Yanking my arm free from his grasp, I said, “Don't you dare touch me.”
His lips pulled back into a grin. Clearly, he was enjoying the power play, but I was not. It took everything in me not to smack that grin off his smug face.
“We need to talk later,” he said, keeping his voice low and calm. Again, he felt like he was in control here. Oh, how wrong he was.
“There's nothing to talk about,” I said.
“Mr. Chevalier is waiting for you. Very good catch, Madeline. And to have your assistant spill the coffee all over us both, well, I knew you were ruthless. I didn't know you were stupid.”
He was still grinning as he loaded into the elevator. He winked at me before the doors closed.
Dammit, Julia. One minute I was prepared to high five her for quick thinking, the next, I was ready to throttle her. Dousing my ex with coffee was a move I could get behind, but Pierre Chevalier? God, no.
“No, no, no,” I muttered to myself as I hurried down the hallway to the meeting room. Julia was sitting at her desk, head down, when I approached. Her red hair was covering her face, as if she wanted to disappear.
She looked up as I approached, and to my surprise, she smiled wide at me.
“He just ran to the restroom, he'll be right back,” she said.
I side-eyed her.
“Did you just douse one of the top interior designers in the world with coffee?” I blurted out.
Her eyes went wide, and that's when I noticed she wasn't looking at me - but at who was standing behind me. I slowly turned, preparing my face for battle, when I came face-to-face with Pierre myself. I smiled brightly, reaching out my hand as if it was second nature. He took it and returned my smile. Pierre was a handsome man. Lean, with dark hair and grey eyes. Just a hint of grey at his temples that made him look more distinguished. His lips pulled back into a genuine-looking smile. Either he was nicer than I expected or very good at putting on a happy face.
His baby powder blue shirt had a trail of coffee down the front, and I cringed, assuming it was the latter instead of the former.
Before I could say anything, he said, “Don't blame your assistant, Madeline - I may call you Madeline, right? - it was all my fault, I swear.”
His English was impeccable, and had it not been for the thick, French accent, you wouldn't have known he wasn't a native speaker.
“Yes, Madeline is fine, Mr. Chevalier.”
“Pierre, please,” he said. His smile grew wider as he peered past me at Julia.
“Pierre, it's a pleasure to finally meet with you in person,” I said. “I apologize for the rough start to the meeting, but if you have a few moments--”
“I'm sorry, Madeline, as much as I'd like to stay, I have a meeting with client in half an hour,” he said. “We'll have to reschedule, I'm afraid.”
It was like a brick had fallen onto my chest. I couldn't breathe for a second, and my entire world felt like it was crashing down. I’d fucked this up. My one chance to show my father I could secure top-notch clients, the best in the industry, and I fucked it up.
His gaze fell back on Julia again, and that's when I noticed the two of them sharing a look. A look that was much more than friendly. I cocked an eyebrow at Julia, but let it go.
“Please have Julia get in touch with me,” he said. “I'll move things around to find a time for you, Madeline. You can count on that.”
We shook hands again, and before he left, he said something - in French - to Julia that I couldn't understand. Her cheeks flushed pink as she stared into the older man's eyes. I felt like a third wheel at my own business meeting.
As soon as Pierre hurried off, I sat down next to Julia and asked the questions that had been weighing heavily on my mind. “What the hell happened, and when did you learn French?”
Her cheeks flushed redder than before. “I don't speak French, I have no idea what he said to me, it just sounded pretty.”
At this point, with everything that had gone wrong, I still found it hard to hold back a laugh. It was partially from stress, but mostly from the ridiculous turn of events of the morning. Once I started laughing, however, there was no holding back. Julia started laughing with me, and before long, we were getting stares from others in the office.
If I wasn't Madeline Byers, daughter of the one and only Greg Byers, someone might have said something. But no one said a word.
At least not until my father's voice caught my attention. I looked up to find him hovering nearby, glaring at us. In the midst of the fun we were having, neither one of us had noticed him approach.
“Madeline, we need to talk. Now.”
The laughter ceased, as did any semblance of happiness. My heart sank. Julia cleared her throat and pretended to work on her computer, watching me from the corner of her eye.
“I'll be right there,” I said, keeping my voice firm and steady. My father was no longer going to boss me around, I told myself. Julia was scared for me, it showed in her eye
s. Hell, I was more than a bit nervous, but I wasn't about to let my father intimidate me.
I was going to prove to him that I had everything under control.
Even if that morning seemed to prove otherwise.
ooo000ooo
“Was that Pierre Chevalier I saw leaving the office?” Dad asked as soon as I was inside his office with the door closed.
“It was,” I said. “I'd set up a meeting with him this morning, hoping we can get him to work on some of our upcoming condominium projects.”
Dad shook his head, the deep lines in his face more evident than before because he was frowning. Something that should have been good news, and there he was, scowling as if I'd told him his pet died.
“And why didn't you talk to me about this before setting things up?” he asked.
“I wanted it to be a surprise,” I said. “Besides, it was only a quick meeting to feel things out. Nothing has been proposed just yet.”
“And nothing will,” dad said.
My jaw nearly hit the floor.
“Why not?” I asked. “His work is renowned, he's known around the world for designing luxury spaces, and--”
“Because he's too expensive, and too-- what's that word? Gaudy? Yes, gaudy.”
“Excuse me, but Pierre Chevalier is not gaudy,” I said. “If we want to compete in a market like Manhattan, we need to look into spending a little more money. We need an edge over our competition, and Pierre has yet to work on a project in the United States. This could be big for us.”
“I said no,” he said plainly. “Stop wasting your time, Madeline. Talk to Derek next time you get a crazy idea like this.”
My mouth was still gaping open. I couldn't believe my ears. Even though we were a multi-billionaire dollar company, my father had always kept his eye on the bottom line. While I understood the need to budget, our other condo projects had failed to capture the market and we were forced to sell the property at a discount just to get it off our books. The reasoning, according to articles I'd read, was that our company was failing to adapt to the changing desires of consumers.
Playing With Fire: Firemen of Manhattan Series Page 7