by M. S. Parker
I pressed my lips together. I was glad he seemed more entertained than angry, but I wasn’t sure how he would take the whole truth.
He lifted his scotch to his lips and sipped, eying me expectantly.
I sighed. Spinning away, I moved over the couch and flopped down on it. “Molly and I ran into Penelope at the mall, almost literally, and she was being a bitch. I didn’t plan on saying it. It sort of popped out.”
He settled down beside me and put his arm around my shoulders. As he pulled me close, he turned his face towards me, pressing it into my hair. I loved when he did that. It somehow seemed more intimate than other things we’d done. I snuggled into him, breathing deep the spicy scent of his aftershave, mingled with the smell of him.
“Why don’t you tell me what happened?” he suggested, his fingers making soothing back and forth motions on my upper arm.
So I did. All in all, it took less than five minutes, starting from the time we left the old, fifties-style diner to when we bumped into Penelope. I finished with a shrug. “I didn’t plan to say anything to her,” I repeated. “But she has this way of bringing out the worst in me.”
“It’s a gift she has,” he told me, wryly.
“It’s not a pleasant one.”
Chuckling, Dominic agreed with me. Then, he said, “I think we should have a party. A dinner party.” He slid his fingers under the neckline of my shirt, his touch hot against my skin. “A dinner party here. I’ll invite some of my friends. You invite yours. I’ll even invite my mother and Penelope.”
I frowned. “Is this a punishment?”
He laughed again and then, before I could blink, he’d rolled us both and had me under him. I moaned in pleasure at the weight of his body on mine.
“No,” he said. “It’s just clever thinking. She’ll keep pushing until she knows we’ll push back. So we’ll give her a shove and she’ll wish she’d kept her mouth shut.” He bent his head and caught my lip, biting down lightly. “But if you’d like me to punish you…”
Yes, please. I shivered. “If you think you should, sir.”
* * *
I got a crash course in party planning that week. It was Tuesday and he decided he wanted to have the party on Friday. Thanks to having worked with Fawna on the masquerade ball back in February and working with Amber on the Devoted event, I’d already figured out that while Dominic might know that he wanted to make things happen, he wasn’t particularly good at the specifics. Hence why he needed an assistant.
If I could help put those events together, I could handle a small get together for a group of twelve. Well, fourteen, including Dominic and me. Invitations were easy. He gave me a list of people and I included Molly since she was my only friend. I was grateful to see Fawna’s name on the list as well. I wouldn’t have felt comfortable inviting her as one of my friends, but I considered her one. Knowing she and Molly would be there helped me relax a bit. Even though Penelope and Dominic’s mom would be present, I had people who’d support me.
The meal? That wasn’t so easy, but I begged and pleaded with Francisco and he agreed to come in and prepare. Actually, I didn’t need to do much pleading. Francisco was actually delighted to help. He’d confessed more than once that he didn’t think Dominic truly appreciated his culinary skills.
Appetizers, wine, dishes…my head was packed with a million little things that no one ever thought about when preparing dinner for one.
By the time Friday rolled around and I was standing in front of the mirror staring at my reflection, I was kind of wishing that Molly and I had opted to see a movie for our girl day instead of a meal and window-shopping. We could have avoided the encounter with Penelope, which meant no dinner party...and I wouldn’t have been wearing this.
It was pretty, yes, but Dominic had wanted to go for casual since he was having this in his place with friends and family. No, the outfit wasn’t fancy, but it was sexy as hell and I felt more than a little self-conscious now. Wrapping my arms over the bared midriff, I looked back at my closet and debated. Maybe I should find something else. I was sure I had something I could throw together.
“You look beautiful.”
Dominic stood in the doorway, the heat in his eyes at odds with the casual way he was leaning against the doorframe.
Turning away from him, I went back to staring at my reflection. The straps were all lace. My breasts and the upper part of my belly were covered by silk, but the bottom hem of the top was covered with jagged bits of scalloped lace that ended a good inch and a half above the waistband of crocheted lace at the top of my skirt. It was sweet and sexy and feminine. I loved the outfit and if it had been just for me and Dominic, I wouldn’t worry.
But…
He moved up behind me and curled his arms around my waist. His nose brushed against the side of my neck as he pushed my hair aside. His lips pressed against my throat and he murmured, “You look incredible, Aleena.”
“I don’t fit.” I covered his hands with mine, noticing more than ever how much darker my skin was than his. I was light for my heritage and he had a tan, but there was still a difference.
Dominic studied my reflection. “What do you mean you don’t fit?”
“Just that. Penelope, your mother. Most of the women you know wouldn’t be caught dead wearing something like this. No matter what I wear, no matter what I do, I’m never going to fit in with them.” I felt foolish. And mad. What did I care what other women thought? What did I care if I fit in here? I’d never planned to do it, never thought I could. But still, my voice sounded terribly small as I said, “I don’t know why I care. I shouldn’t. I know that. But you…”
“You don’t fit in.” Dominic’s voice was soft. He moved one hand up and cupped my chin, raising my head and forcing me to stare at my reflection. His golden head dipped low and I shivered as he ran his lips down the skin obscured by the lacy straps of my top. “You stand out. You blow my mind, Aleena.”
My heart twisted at his words.
He turned me to face him, bringing his hands up to cup my face. “Why would you want to fit in with women who find it amusing to belittle everybody who isn’t them? Why would you want to fit in with people who are so caught up in who they are, they don’t care how many people they’ve walked on to get where they are? Or how many people they walk on to stay there?” His lips caressed mine, taking my breath away. “Don’t fit with them. Be you.”
* * *
Fawna found Molly and me in the kitchen. She took one look at the wine we were drinking and shook her head. “I think I hate you both right now.”
I lifted my glass and said, “Pour yourself some. There’s more.”
“I’m doing that.” She made a beeline for the open bottle of red and gave Molly a friendly smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Molly. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Molly tipped her glass in Fawna’s direction. “Same here. I think I heard your name probably two thousand times the first few weeks she was working for the beast out there.”
I glared at her. “He’s not a beast.”
“He’s a sexy beast,” Molly said, smiling at me as I shot her another dirty look. Then she took a healthy gulp of her wine. “But I couldn’t work for him. I think he’d drive me crazy.”
“Dominic would drive most women crazy.” Fawna gave her an understanding smile and the three of us settled against the counter to stare out into the living room. From where we stood, we had a bird’s-eye view of the dinner party as it died a slow, natural death.
Penelope was there, and she’d brought Joshua. She hadn’t stopped crawling over him all night and I was surprised he still had his shirt on, rumpled as it was. She hadn’t even bothered trying to be discreet with her long, aggressive kisses. If anything, she seemed to want the attention focused on them. And through it all, she gave Dominic sidelong looks, as if to say, See, see! He wants me…aren’t you going to stop us?
Jacqueline had already left. The ice in the air around her had been enough that I’d almos
t left to get a sweater to throw on over my outfit. I hadn’t wanted to give her the satisfaction though. Especially not after the look she’d given me when she’d shown up, dressed in a semi-formal black sheath that went sedately down over her knees. She’d looked at Dominic in his jeans and sweater, then at me and made the comment, “I wish you’d informed me of the dress for the evening, Dominic.”
She hadn’t spoken to me all night, but she had come. I just wished I knew what that meant.
There were a few other people I knew vaguely there, several of whom I had only talked to on the phone. Almost all of them had been kind, friendly even.
The only two who hadn’t been…well, let’s just say it hadn’t exactly been a surprise.
Joshua hadn’t been friendly or unfriendly. There was no doubt he was mostly there to play at being Penelope’s arm candy and occasionally try to cop a feel. She’d smacked him three times by the time the meal had ended.
I wondered if she had any idea that throughout the meal, Dominic had been amusing himself by stroking me...in a far more intimate manner and place. My silk panties were soaked, my body wired.
“Well, this went over better than I’d—”
Fawna’s words ended abruptly when a crash came from the living room.
It was followed by a low, feminine sob and the three of us rushed out. Penelope was sitting on the floor behind the couch, clutching at the front of her shirt. Joshua was sprawled flat on his back next to her, a hand over his eye.
Dominic was rubbing his fist, looking furious as he glared down at Joshua as if deciding the best way to eviscerate him.
Penelope’s eyes landed on me. Dominic wasn’t looking at her so he couldn’t have possibly seen the way her eyes narrowed slightly, or the way her lips curled.
But I did.
So did Molly. I thought Fawna saw it as well, but the three of us stayed silent, waiting to see what would happen next.
A moment later, Penelope got to her feet and rushed to Dominic, flinging herself at him and sobbing against his chest.
* * *
Twenty minutes later, he looked at me over her bent head. She was still crying, into a handkerchief now. He’d pulled it out of his pocket and given it to her and Fawna had guided her over to a chair while Dominic called for building security. Every time he tried to go more than a couple feet from her, she’d start making these little hurt noises until he was close again.
Molly and I leaned against the wall, watching the whole tableau.
“She’s good,” Molly said softly.
I nodded, crossing my arms over my chest. “Very.”
Then I felt bad. Dominic had seen what had happened and had given us the short version.
Joshua had been tossing back the bourbon all night and had gotten so plastered, he’d barely been able to walk to the door. At some point, he’d decided that Penelope had teased him long enough. He’d made a pass at her again, grabbing at her breasts, and when she’d pushed him away, he hadn’t gone. Penelope had ended up crushed between him and the couch. Her shirt was ripped at the sleeve and Joshua would probably feel like he’d been hit by a mack truck.
Through sobs, she’d announced that she didn’t want to press charges, going pale at the very idea. Dominic had instructed security to get Joshua into a cab, but not before he’d made it clear to the dazed young man that if he ever saw his face again, he’d end up in the hospital rather than the police station.
Everybody else had trickled out except for Molly, Fawna and me. And our damsel in distress. A few more minutes passed before Penelope’s sniffles eased.
“I’ll have a car brought around.” Dominic patted her shoulder. “We’ll get you home.”
She started to reach for him, then let her hand fall away. “Would you…” She darted a glance at me and for the first time, she managed a weak smile. “Oh, never mind. I couldn’t ask. Really.”
Oh, brother. Who was she kidding?
Dominic stared straight ahead, his expression unreadable.
“How about I ride home with you, Penelope?” Fawna asked.
I could have hugged her.
“Oh, no.” Penelope stared at her, wide-eyed. “You have to get home to your little grandson. I heard you talking about how you worry so. With a teenaged girl watching him, you must be so stressed about that.”
Dominic dipped his head and I could all but see the strain building inside him. “I’ll take care of it, Fawna.”
“But—”
He shot her a look and shook his head. “It’s in the opposite direction of where you’re heading and you already have a good forty-five minute drive.”
His gaze came to me.
I saw the apology there and managed a smile I didn’t feel. I was better than Penelope Rittenour and I was going to prove it by being the bigger person.
No matter how much I hated her at that moment.
Chapter Eight
Aleena
I woke with the headache from hell and a feeling of dread hanging over me.
It could have been from the wine.
It could have been from the fact that I hadn’t gone to bed until nearly two a.m., staying up and waiting for Dominic.
It could have been from a million things.
I decided not to think about any of them. Stumbling into workout clothes, I jammed sunglasses onto my face and left the penthouse. It was quiet. Either Dominic was still asleep or he was out doing what I was doing, running off the excesses of a late night, too much food and too much wine.
I’d only recently started running, but I’d grown to like it, appreciating the way it burned calories and revved up my heart. I’d always been too self-conscious to run back home because of my figure. Here, I didn’t care. Out on the street, no one looked at me like a freak. It was a great way to clear my head as well. Today, I was trying to pound the headache out of my head with every slap of my feet on the concrete.
I took the route toward the park and spent almost an hour pounding the pavement. By the time I was on my way home, the headache had retreated to almost tolerable levels. So even though my muscles felt like spaghetti, I considered it a win as I rounded the corner that took me back to the penthouse.
I was almost inside when a shadow fell across my path.
I froze.
Joshua stood there.
“Get away from me,” I snapped. I really wasn’t in the mood.
One of the doormen moved toward us and I held up a hand. I didn’t need help. I could deal with this asshole on my own. Dominic wasn’t the only one with a mean right hook.
Joshua dipped his head. “Ma’am…I…um.” He looked around. “Look, I’m sorry about last night.”
“You should be apologizing to Penelope.” I crossed my arms over my chest. As much as I disliked her, no woman deserved to be treated like that. No person.
“I did.” He looked away again. “Well, I tried anyway.” Abruptly, he shoved an envelope at me. “You should see this. You’re a nice girl, or you seem like it. You shouldn’t be treated like this.”
I stared at the envelope and that wicked curl of dread got worse. I felt like a lump had settled in my stomach.
“What…” I stopped and cleared my throat as my voice threatened to crack. “What is this?”
He just continued to hold it out until I had no choice but to take it.
“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I was just…I wanted to apologize. To her. And that’s when I saw them.”
He took off without further explanation, disappearing down the sidewalk at a quick clip.
* * *
My gut was raw.
Bent over the toilet, I wretched for what felt like the millionth time. I wanted to curl up into a ball and die, but I couldn’t do that because I needed to pack my stuff. I needed to get the hell out of here.
But all I could do was sit there.
Slowly, feeling like I’d aged a thousand years in the past few minutes, I forced myself away from the commode and sat with my back agains
t the wall. Staring at nothing, I willed myself to find the energy to move.
I had to move.
I didn’t know where Dominic was, but I didn’t want to be here, on the floor, stinking of sweat and vomit when he came in.
I didn’t want to be surrounded by pictures, by the evidence of how gullible I’d been.
Tears burned my eyes.
I was a fool.
I was an idiot.
A naïve, foolish idiot.
And I loved him.
I loved him so much it hurt.
Even now.
If he came in and talked to me, I didn’t know what would happen. Would I let him talk me into staying? Could he talk me into it? I just knew that I lost my head when I was with him. I didn’t think clearly, and that’s what had made me vulnerable to...I couldn’t give him the opportunity to convince me to stay, the chance to humiliate me.
I forced myself upright. Flushing the toilet, I went through the motions of washing my hands, my face. I brushed my teeth and threw the toothbrush away. My mouth still felt nasty so I took a swig of mouthwash. I didn’t feel better, but I was back in control of myself. I almost left the pictures on the floor, but in the end, I scooped them up and dumped them on my bed.
I didn’t plan on ever sleeping there again.
I didn’t know where I was going, or what I would do, but I did know I was leaving here.
Packing would take too long.
I didn’t even pack everything, just enough to fill two suitcases. That would get me through a couple of weeks, I knew. I’d learned how to pack light and travel easy, thanks to going back and forth to the Hamptons so often.
The thought of the house and all that had happened there brought a fresh lance of pain through my heart and I wanted to bend over, clutch at my chest, scream from the misery of it. But I didn’t.
I just kept packing.
I didn’t know how long it had taken, from the time I’d entered the penthouse to when I finally picked up my bag and walked out. I left the keys behind me, a bit of finality, because I didn’t plan on coming back. And I didn’t need the temptation they would offer. I had to make a clean break.