“Let me show you.” A towering redhead led the way down steep stairs to the service rooms I’d visited a few times by accident, and knew to be on the backside of the wine cellar. “Are you just here for today?”
“Yeah. It was a last-minute thing. You?”
“Uh-huh. Plus, I booked a couple of Christmas parties the hostess is throwing. I’m going to school, so anything I can pick up this time of year is great.”
“I know what you mean.” I followed her down a too-bright hall toward a walk-in supply closet, where she stood aside to let me find the right size starched white shirt.
“Where did you say he went?” The muffled question came from the stairs. I’d hoped it might take longer for Uma’s goons to catch on.
“Thanks for your help,” I said to the girl.
“No problem.” She paused halfway out the door. “Hit me up if you want to party when we get off.”
“Will do.” I waved.
“Mr. Black.” Uma’s head goon blocked the only way out. “I didn’t think we’d be seeing you again so soon.”
“Look.” I held up my hands. “I just need to talk to Uma for a few minutes in private. I went with the whole servant routine because I don’t want to cause a scene.”
“So considerate. But if you really wanted to show you care, why not call or text? Better yet, wait until tomorrow when her guests have all gone home?”
“This can’t wait.” I refused to wait one more second while she played God with everyone I love.
He turned his back to me, murmuring an unintelligible line into the mic tucked in his suit coat sleeve. After waiting for a response that must have fed directly into his ear, he turned, gesturing for me to follow. “You’ll have an audience whenever Mistress Uma can squeeze you in.”
After depositing me in a dark-paneled study, the goon left.
I powered up my phone to find fifteen missed calls from Carol, and three voicemails.
If you expect to live to your next birthday—call me. Now.
Nathan—this isn’t funny. Call me.
Okay, you’re seriously starting to scare me. Are you hurt? I saw the way you winced when your dad slapped your back. Are you stuck in some ER, too proud to admit you’re in pain and can’t call me?
I turned my phone off before she called again.
“Babe, I am so sorry,” I said under my breath while pacing. As soon as I work this out, I’ll stock groceries the rest of my life if it means never hurting you again.
Judging by the antique clock resting atop the cold fireplace’s mantel, I’d waited almost an hour before Uma came in.
“Nathan . . .” She crossed the room wearing a smile and a form-fitting black dress and heels. “What a nice surprise. I wish you had told me you were coming. I would have had an extra place set at the table.”
“I think we both know this isn’t a social call.”
“Aw, don’t be like that.” She came in close for a double-cheek Euro-kiss. “You know I only have your best interests at heart—speaking of which? How is your lovely Carol? She was so excited about arranging for your whole family to fly in. I thought for sure you’d spend your day with them.”
Jaw clenched, I ran my hand over my mouth.
“I have to say, I was surprised you held out on me like that—not telling me how many loved ones you had tucked away back in ‘The Natural State.’ Here, poor Carol and her daughter have shouldered your debt’s weight, but all this time I could have been sharing my love. Do you have any idea how much cash I could get at auction for your new niece or adorable little nephew? If you’re ever looking for a sideline investment, black-market adoption is alive and well.”
“You make me sick.”
“Oh, stop. I’m teasing. Seriously, Nathan, do you have that poor an opinion of me? I’ve been meaning to call you, but in planning for Thanksgiving, time got away. Your last date with Mitsy is set for December fifth, which is a Saturday night. She’s expecting you at six for pre-party cocktails. Please wear your tux, and since Carol’s obviously not yet in the loop, I’ll have my limo driver pick you up at your charming, little Chinatown apartment at five forty-five. Good?”
“How can I trust you that after this, it will be over? No more threats?”
“Sweetness . . .” She clutched her chest. “You’re breaking my heart. I’m nothing if not a woman of my word. Trust me, when it’s over—you’ll know. Because for at least a short while you’ve been such an exceptional employee, I have a special bonus planned all for you. Trust me—you’ll love it.”
The whole return trip to Ella and Liam’s I wished I could feel better now that I had a definite end in sight, but Uma’s cryptic promise only left me feeling worse. And what the hell was that bit about black-market adoption? I sure as fuck wanted to believe she was kidding, but consider the source.
My former parking space was still open, so I pulled in and killed the engine. I sat for a long time, planning my entrance. My preference would have been to grab Carol caveman style, haul her back to the condo, and spend the rest of the day in bed. Instead, I sucked it up and took the high road—at least what little remained after my earlier nosedive through the family-time guardrail.
The valet guys all sat on the front porch, eating and shooting the shit.
When they saw me, they jumped to attention, apologizing, but I waved them off.
My eyes took too long to adjust to the shadow-filled entry and halls, but I eventually found my way to the party. Every seat was filled save for mine. Carol sat on one side of the vacant chair and my father on the other. Earlier, I’d felt lower than a worm, but now I’d become bedrock. My feet refused to move, and even if they could, I wasn’t sure what to say.
Ella had created the quintessential Thanksgiving. The fact that the meal was being served outside made it all the more special. A team of waiters circled, spooning out seconds or maybe thirds of an obscene amount of desserts—pumpkin and pecan pies. Carrot cake and fruit tarts.
Carol must have felt my stare, because she turned to look at me. She drew her lower lip into her mouth and her eyes welled. She said something to my father, and some dude I knew she worked with who sat on her other side, then rose, leaving her cloth napkin on her chair before crossing to me.
“If my best friends and your entire family weren’t watching, I’d smack you into the next county.”
“I’d let you.”
“Well?”
“I got a job interview.”
“Try again.”
Tell her. “Babe . . .”
“Don’t.” She held her hands to my face, palms out. “We’ll talk about it at home.”
That was encouraging. At least I still had a home. Not that I deserved it.
I drew her into a hug, whispering, “I’m sorry,” into her hair.
“Yes, you are. Which makes me a damned fool for putting up with your BS. Now, put on a smile for your family who flew all this way to see you and know that tonight,” she poked her finger against my chest, “you will tell me what’s wrong with you or we will be over.”
Carol
Nathan told his family some bullshit story about a friend of his having car trouble. I went along with it to save face, but hated myself for contributing to his lie. We didn’t get my mother dropped off until almost ten, and now, it was almost eleven as I poured orange-blossom oil into the steaming tub.
While I stripped, he busied himself by putting away the care packages Ella’s chef had insisted we take.
A storm front had moved in and rain pelted the window behind the tub.
I stepped in, groaning with pleasure when I’d sunk to my neck. The contrast of warm water against my chilled skin raised goosebumps and I shivered.
Only a month earlier, I’d wanted nothing more than to share this tub with Nathan. Now, I felt used and betrayed and on the verge of breaking things off—not because I wanted to, but because he’d left me with no other choice.
All my life, I’d been terrified of the men I cared ab
out leaving me. Now, I feared the same was happening with Nathan, but if I finally wised up, it should be me leaving him.
He sauntered in from the kitchen, already wearing no shirt.
His bruises had healed and hair had grown back from where the leads had been on his EKG. The six-pack I couldn’t keep my hands off of when we’d first started dating looked as good as ever, even if a little less defined. His shoulders and chest were just as broad, and my thighs hurt when I dug my nails into my skin to keep from reaching out to him.
“Mind if I join you?” he asked.
“I’d rather you didn’t.” Because if he climbed in, all it would take is one brush of his palms against my nipples to melt my resolve to be firm.
“Fair enough.” He hefted himself up to sit on the granite counter.
“Start talking.”
“Jesus . . .” He raked his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know where to start.”
“I’ll narrow it down for you. Are you seeing someone else?”
“Seriously?”
“It’s a fair question.”
“No—it’s not.” He fixed me with such a concentrated stare, I shivered again, but for a whole other reason. “I love you. Period.”
“Then why are you acting so sketchy? And I’m not just talking about today. Ever since you got in that fight, you haven’t been yourself. Do you have a gambling problem, and you can’t cover your debts and your bookie’s making threats?”
“No.”
“Are you addicted to your painkillers and buying them in dark alleys? And that’s why you left today? Because you needed a fix?”
He hopped off the counter and returned with one of his prescription bottles, which he slammed against the side of the tub. “At least half-full. I stopped taking them last week, so that would be a no. Could you please knock off questioning me like I’m a naughty fourth-grader and trust me when I say I was in over my head, but things are almost better?”
I arched my head back and groaned. “How am I supposed to respond to that, Nathan? Do you understand that you’re putting me in an awful position? How would you feel if the tables were turned and I asked the same of you? You wouldn’t like it, would you?”
“No, but I think you know me well enough now to realize that I’d never do anything to hurt you. You’re my world. I’ve literally changed everything for you. Yet now you’re sitting there, telling me everything’s not enough?” He threw up his hands. “Fuck it. I don’t know what else I can do.”
“Start by telling me why you walked out on family you haven’t seen in over a year. Then, you can explain how you could also just leave during our first holiday as an engaged couple. And while you’re at it, go ahead and tell me why you don’t feel the need to tell anyone we’re engaged. Oh—and where’s that ring you promised? I don’t care if you twist a bread-tie around my ring finger—it just seems that if you were serious about marrying me, you would have done something, you would have . . .” I couldn’t speak past my tears.
He climbed in the tub with his pants on, pulling me onto his lap. His kissed my ring finger, and then me, devastating what little remained of my resolve. His hands and mouth were everywhere, exploring me as if we were new. I melted beneath his touch, no longer ice, but thawed and warmed into a languid stream gurgling for his attention.
Our kisses tasted salty from my tears. I fluttered my fingers across his face, testing that he was real—we were real.
I tried getting into his fly, but with his slacks and boxers wet, the mission wasn’t easy.
He stood, sloshing water everywhere. I didn’t care.
Trying to free himself of his clothes, he half-sat, half-fell on the side of the tub with his cock standing at full attention.
I got out, too, helping him tug off his pants.
Once they’d mounded in a soggy pile, I straddled him, wrapping my arms around his neck, indulging in the feel of his moist head against my pussy. It had been so long since he’d touched me that when he brought his fingers to the show, teasing me, rubbing me, making me lose my mind with pleasure, I came too fast when I’d wanted to make this last forever.
But then he urged me down, filling me so completely that it barely registered that we hadn’t used a condom. Since I’m sure he was still sore, I did most of the work, setting my own pace for my greatest pleasure.
He kissed me slow and deep, with lazy strokes of his tongue.
Pleasure swirled upward, replacing my anger and hurt and confusion with knowing. How could this man hurt me when he, above all others, was the only man who’d ever made me feel so intensely alive?
Eyes squeezed shut, I tucked my face into the curve of his neck. I needed to breathe him in, to absorb his essence into my very soul. Not until this moment did I realize how much I loved him, how I’d been afraid to fully let go and fully let him in. But now that we were officially back on the same page, I wanted it all—marriage and a house and kids and a dog. I wanted that fairytale ending that as a little girl my own father had taught me to believe would never come true. The impossible purity of this singular moment proved all the naysayers wrong.
Pressure rose and budded and spread until I cried out, not caring if the whole world heard.
“Iloveyou,” I said in a breathy rush.
He cupped my ass, shuddering while plunging deeper. “I love you, too.”
In the morning, I struggled to contain my happy glow.
Nathan looked handsome behind the wheel. Confident and self-assured.
So why did I still have one burning question? Why was that the one topic we hadn’t technically touched on during an endless night when we’d literally touched most everything else?
“Nathan?” I kissed the pulse point on his wrist.
“Yeah?” His sideways grin produced a happy somersault in my belly.
“I am curious about something . . .”
“Let me guess.” He glanced my way, but his grin was gone. “You want to know where I went yesterday?”
“Yes, please. Wherever it was, I promise I won’t be mad. I just . . .”
“I get it. You need to know—and you deserve to know.” He stopped for a red light, and leaned in for a kiss. “But here’s the thing. What if what I was doing was something for you, but if I tell you, it could potentially ruin a—”
“Wait! Don’t tell me. While I surprised you with your family, were you planning a surprise for me, but it fell through? Oh, Nathan, I’m sorry. And I understand. But, sweetie, you didn’t have to take it so personally. You were a wreck. Next time, just fill me in—not on the specifics. But at least enough to let me know I don’t have to worry about you seeing another woman.”
“Got it.” A muscle ticked in his jaw.
Had he tried getting me a ring? I honestly didn’t believe he was cheating or gambling or a druggie, so what else could it be?
I leaned my head back, daydreaming of what might have happened. Probably, he’d placed a custom or rush order so he’d have my ring in time for the holiday. He might have planned to surprise me in front of my friends and mom by placing it like a diamond cherry on top of my pumpkin pie. Clearly, he felt horrible about not coming through, and instead of being understanding, I’d ripped his poor, handsome head off.
Well, from here on out, I’d work a lot harder at being a more accepting fiancée. When he planned his next surprise, I would happily, patiently be waiting.
Nathan
“Mmm . . . I missed you.” December 5, Mitsy clung to my chest like a barnacle to a hull. Her boozy perfume alerted me to the fact that she’d started the party without me.
“I missed you, too.” And I had, in a weird way. She represented the last of my dysfunctional normalcy—if that made sense. My time with Uma had been a series of ultra-highs and lows. I’d initially believed being an escort would solve all my problems. No way could I have predicted what I thought would be a simple job could go so horribly wrong.
“Refill, please.” She wagged her empty wineglass. “Do y
ou know where we’re going tonight?”
“A Christmas party, right?” From behind the living room wet bar, I found the open bottle she’d left on the counter was empty, so I rummaged through a couple of drawers to find a corkscrew, then opened a new bottle of her favorite red from the bar fridge.
“Not just any party.”
“What makes tonight special?” I handed her the wine. The house looked amazing. A fire crackled in the hearth and the air smelled of cinnamon and pine from the fresh tree and strand upon strand of garland. Everywhere I looked, white lights twinkled, and the ornaments ranged from designer glass balls to a quite a few handmade treasures. Had her children made them? Where were they now when their mom needed them?
“Lots of reasons. For starters, we’ll be shoulder-to-shoulder with Matthew’s closest friends. After our weekend in Arizona, I did a lot of thinking, and you’re right—my marriage is worth fighting for. I told Matthew I plan to contest the divorce. We have too many years invested to just throw it away.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” We shared her sofa and even though she put her hand on my thigh, I tried not to panic. If she planned to reconcile with her husband, that meant she wanted only companionship from me, right? “How did Matthew take your news?”
“Well, I told you his prom-queen mistress is pregnant, so of course he’s insisting they get married for the sake of the baby, but I refuse to have my marriage torn apart by his careless sex life. The only way he’s getting me out of the picture is to kill me—but since my daddy has all the money, I can’t really see Matthew doing that.”
“Let’s hope not.”
She giggled before finishing off her champagne. “I’d forgotten how beautiful you are. Kiss me.”
My stomach churned when I leaned forward to peck Mitsy’s cheek. I’d told Carol I was helping a friend move. She’d been worried about me getting reinjured, but I’d assured her I wouldn’t haul anything too large. I’d felt horrible about telling her another lie, but rationalized it by promising it was the last. Our weekend together with my family had been perfect, and as soon as Uma’s check went in my account, I’d buy a ring to make our engagement official.
Need (Bad Boys with Billions Book 3) Page 19