Текст книги "Shut out "
Автор книги: Cee Smith
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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 7 страниц)
“I really am sorry, Joel. I wish things could be different,” I said as we exited the restaurant. He moved closer and I held out my arms to him, opening to receive him for the last time. I knew he needed to hold me at that moment, as much as I needed to hold him. Just one last time.
“Me too.”
***
After my lunch with Joel and our obvious stalemate, I couldn’t help but be surprised by the box I found on my doorstep after work. I thought we were past this, but apparently we weren’t, because there it sat—large enough to be seen from the driveway. I rolled my eyes as I pulled into the garage. It was starting to become a rare occurrence that I didn’t have something waiting for me from Joel. Telegrams, drive-bys, phone calls, videos—it was overwhelming. How was I supposed to get over the time we spent together if every day he was reminding me of what I was missing? Didn’t he know how hard this was for me? Maybe not. I tried hard not to show my vulnerable side, not when it came to this. I had to be strong to withstand his charms. And every day it was becoming harder and harder. Some days I got so far as dialing his number before I remembered that I couldn’t call him. It would send the wrong message, and it wasn’t a mistake I could afford to make.
I took the box inside, going straight to my office for a pair of scissors. The box was ordinary—except where you’d usually find an address, there was nothing, just clear tape. Pressing the scissors into the crease of the box, I watched the tape break away, unfolding the top flaps of the box to reveal white tissue paper. I unwrapped the paper and peered in. The surprise that greeted me wasn’t one I was familiar with, nor was it welcomed. The white tissue paper was stained red as if something bloody had been put in the box and shaken.
Obviously with the amount of TV I’d watched and with the line of work I was in, I knew not to touch anything else, in the event that the blood inside was real. I escaped to the bathroom to grab a towel before returning to the office to inspect the contents of the box closer.
I’d seen some pretty gruesome images, so I typically had a thick stomach for those sorts of things, but nothing could compare to opening this box. I felt queasy and damp and uncomfortable—the kind where you think you could be coming down with something, except I knew that I was fine. I had been feeling fine up until the moment I opened the box.
With my hands covered by the towel, I peeled back the tissue again, this time reaching in to get a closer look at the pieces of paper I saw inside. There were bits of shiny paper that looked like the backs of printed photos. On the back of the first print facing up was the word “Is.” I flipped it over and knew I was looking at the image of the person who sent me this box.
Lara.
The picture had been one I’d seen before. A picture included in her file marked as evidence against Joel. I shuffled through the images, disgusted not only by the marred face of the woman staring back at me, but by the message that had been written out on each of the photos. When all of the photos had been turned over, the message read, “Is this worth losing your job over?”
The message was loud and clear. She wanted me to be scared that she had the power to make me lose my job. But she was also trying to scare me out of seeing or speaking to Joel again. Which was silly because she had to know I’d already seen the pictures, considering that I worked at the law firm that represented her. Maybe she thought I was a receptionist. That would explain why she thought it appropriate I escort her to the damn bathroom.
What Lara didn’t know was I’d been scared of the possibility of this happening for weeks. In fact, I’d been expecting any day I would walk in to find my crap thrown in a box and my last check in an envelope. She didn’t know that, but that was the fear I’d been living with since the day I found out who Joel really was.
Was I scared of her threat? Of course, but I was more scared of the person who would leave a bloody box with a creepy message on my doorstep. I had no idea if the blood was real or if she was just trying to scare me, but it didn’t matter. I was officially freaked out. I had tried for weeks to keep myself out of whatever was happening between Lara and Joel, but clearly I hadn’t tried hard enough, otherwise I wouldn’t have come home to that.
The hardest part was figuring out what to do next. It wasn’t like I could go to the authorities—something she probably knew—because then I would definitely lose my job. If I called Kerri, I was sure she would convince me to report it. I didn’t want to involve Joel either, because clearly Lara had been either watching my house or following Joel’s whereabouts. How else would she have found out our involvement and where I lived? For the first time in my life, I was without a doubt stuck between a rock and a hard place.
Chapter Eight
Friday couldn’t have come soon enough. After my lunch with Joel and returning home to find that box, the remainder of the week felt endless. The compounding days weighed me down like a ball and chain wrapped around my leg. I needed a break, like I’d never needed one before. I wanted a day all to myself with zero work, without even a thought of work, where I could sit on my couch in a ratty shirt and sweats and drink wine to my heart’s content. Where I could mourn the loss of my blink-and-you’ll-miss-it love life. Where I could mourn the thought of what could have been. Where I didn’t have to worry about what could end up being a short-lived career.
Henderson had me working on the deposition for the case with Lara, which was due Monday morning, while Fitz had me working on a couple pleadings for a few clients—all of this while I still had research and copious amounts of files that needed filing for Lara’s case. The last time I’d been that busy was finals junior year, first semester. I didn’t even remember eating or sleeping for days, but somehow I managed, just like I managed to make it through the work that seemed to keep me glued to my desk for most of Friday.
When I looked at the clock, it read 5:30, and surprisingly, I didn’t hear any tapping of keys or over-exaggerated sighs, signaling that everyone would have rather have been home at that point instead of working another Friday night.
Just when I was thinking I was completely alone, Henderson emerged from around the corner, his shoes drumming the floor in an ominous sound.
“Blaire, great, you’re still here. Do you have a minute?”
“Yes.”
Henderson stood over me without making eye contact. In the silence, I garnered he didn’t want to have the conversation out there, next to the elevator, where anyone could hear us. So I stood up, waiting for him to lead the way to his office. I wasn’t used to this sign of hesitancy or indecision from Henderson. It wasn’t like him. He was most often bold, succinct, to the point in almost an Asperger kind of way. Henderson turned and headed back to his office without even giving me a second glance, and instead of thinking about all of the things that I still needed to get done, I was starting to feel somewhat nervous. It wasn’t unusual to be called back to his office, but something about the way no one was around on a Friday evening felt very eerie.
The door to his office was open, and he stepped to the side, allowing me to enter first. I moved to the seat opposite his desk while he turned to shut the door.
“Mr. Henderson, is there something wrong?” My impatience was getting the better of me. If it was bad news, I would have rather him just get it out and over with. There was nothing worse than delay.
He didn’t answer me until he took his seat across a desk that up until that point had never made me feel intimidated or ostracized, but at that very moment that’s exactly what I felt. Maybe it was the amount of guilt that had been weighing heavily on me. Maybe it was disappointment for the things I had given up for the strides I made. Joel wasn’t the first one I’d let slip by in lieu of a stellar career, and he wouldn’t be the last.
“Ms. Banks, you know we would never wrongfully accuse any of our employees of misconduct or unprofessional behavior without merit.”
“I’m sorry, ‘unprofessional behavior’? I don’t understand.”
He blinked a few times, nodding his head as if to settle my excitement. “Yes, we have reason to believe that you may have a non-professional relationship with the defense, E.J. Trevaunt, of the Farrows case—”
“Yes, but—”
“Now, you’re an amazing asset to our team, and this case was really only supposed to—”
“Wait, you’re not firing me, are you?”
My mind was scrambling for purchase while I thought over every fear that assaulted me from the moment I learned of Joel’s identity. Why did it surprise me that they would learn the truth? That Lara wouldn’t move forward with whatever evidence she had garnered. It wasn’t that I didn’t take her seriously. I expected she would do this, but maybe I just hoped that it wouldn’t come to this—being let go with no one around to say good luck, or—who was I kidding? If anything, most of the office probably had already known what I had done and why I was being let go by the time I was seated in Henderson’s office chair. Had anyone from the office still been there, I wouldn’t be leaving with uneasy smiles and a quiet send-off. They’d probably stand to the side in silence with smug looks of disdain.
“As of right now, we’re putting you on administrative leave while we figure out how to proceed. You understand we can’t have you working on or around this case. As I said, we really enjoy you working here, and we don’t want to make any hasty decisions.”
“I understand. I apologize for any behavior that may have tarnished the firm’s reputation. Should I take my things or—”
“Take whatever you feel you may need, but this in no way means we are firing you. I want to make that clear. You can leave whatever here that you won’t have immediate need of, and it will be here when you return.”
“Thank you, Mr. Henderson.”
“I really am sorry about this, Blaire.”
“I understand. I’ll just grab my purse, and I’ll…” I didn’t know how to end the sentence, so I scrambled out of the chair, eager to remove myself from his office and from the building. Not ten minutes before I was begging for a break and now it was being handed to me on a silver platter, but I felt like an island floating in the middle of the ocean with nothing to anchor me and no reprieve in sight.
I had neither seen nor spoken with Joel since the day I received the box, but I should have expected Lara wasn’t done. I could have called her bluff and told my bosses everything before she had a chance to, but maybe that was her intention all along. Maybe I would still be on leave whether or not the truth came from my mouth or hers.
I made my way back to my desk, my eyes wandering over the empty halls to ensure that they were in fact empty. It was the quietest it’d ever been on a Friday, and I was sure that my suspension had something to do with it. Whoever was responsible for my lonely walk back to my desk, I was thankful for. The truth was, I wasn’t sure what would be more embarrassing—being fired or having people watch me leave, knowing I’d committed career suicide by becoming involved with the opposition. If that wasn’t the worst, the fact that he was accused of beating his ex-girlfriend would surely cause a few stares.
Without missing a beat, I quickly logged off my computer and snatched my purse, not so much as sitting in my seat, fearful some alarm would go off warning Henderson that I hadn’t immediately left the premises.
Approaching the glass doors to the parking lot, I stuttered in my steps as I looked up to find Joel’s white Mercedes just outside the doors. Seeing as how it was after 5:30 p.m., the doors were locked, which would explain why he was pacing out front with phone in hand. I looked over my shoulder to double-check I wasn’t quietly being escorted out and, if so, that they hadn’t seen the physical proof of my being involved with Joel. Confusion and anger now drove me to exit the building. I pushed through the doors, and Joel rushed to meet me.
“Are you OK? I’ve been calling your cell and desk phone for the last half hour.”
“What are you doing here? What part of our meeting didn’t you understand, Joel?”
“Lara sent me a message. Please tell me you weren’t fired.”
My shoulders slumped with his confession. I looked up from Joel to the surrounding parking lot and streets, wondering if Lara was waiting in the distance somewhere to gloat her success. It was pointless; aside from knowing what she looked like, I had no idea what she drove, and that was assuming she didn’t pay someone else to watch me. Joel’s hand on my elbow drew my attention back to the man standing in front of me, looking more stressed and worse for wear than I did, and I was the one who was without a job indefinitely.
“Not exactly, not yet anyway. I was put on leave.”
“What? I’m so sorry, Blaire. I have no idea how she even found out about you. She must be following me.”
“I assumed that when she sent a box to my house.”
“When was that? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It was after our lunch earlier this week. I came home, and I thought it was another gift from you. When I opened it, there was something that looked like blood and these pictures of her face beat up. Basically, it was meant to make me feel like shit for even being associated with you.”
“You should have said something. I don’t know what her angle is, but she’s clearly unhinged. The last thing I want is for you to get caught up in the middle of this.”
“What did she say in the message she sent you?”
“Dating the opposition is frowned upon; just ask Henderson & Fitz,” he read from the phone in his hand. “I put two and two together, and then when I couldn’t get ahold of you, I may have freaked just a little.”
“You think? It’s OK. I appreciate the concern.”
“Will you let me take you home?” Where I expected to see a wicked smile and bright eyes, I saw eyes fixated on my feet and a face flush with worry.
“Sure. I mean, it’s not like it’s going to hurt now.”
He smiled politely and opened the door for me to take a seat. My eyes followed the movement of his legs as he rounded the hood of the car. When he got in the driver’s side, he started the car, but instead of immediately taking off, he sat back against the leather seat, and I watched his chest deflate as if he’d been holding his breath up until the moment he realized I was safe. There was something about that simple act that made me feel like everything would be OK.
“I read you went back to work,” I said as soon as he pulled out onto Lake Mead.
“I’m working from home for the time being, but yeah, I’ve been keeping busy.”
“Not that it means anything, but I’m proud of you. It’ll only get easier the more time that goes by.”
“I appreciate the gentle kick in the ass you gave me the other day. I don’t have too many friends that are that honest. It was…nice.”
“I have plenty more where that came from.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“Well, stop dating psychos for one.”
“That’s legit advice. I think I have someone in mind, but the jury’s still out on her mental aptitude. What else would explain her reason for turning me down?” He looked at me and winked, ignoring the annoyed expression on my face.
“I would say my mental aptitude is just fine. In fact, it’s superior. You’re just not used to women saying no to you.”
“Maybe not, but imagine the victory when you finally give in.”
Joel smiled, and I felt the stirrings of that victory between my legs. What would happen now that I didn’t have the threat of losing my job hanging over my head? For weeks it was the excuse I used at every turn. I was sure that Joel wouldn’t let that hold him up anymore.
I was reaching a crossroads, and I needed to make a quick decision as to which route I planned on taking. Would I take a risk with Joel and see if what we had was stronger than mere chemistry, or would I stick to my initial reaction and cut off all ties with him? I knew what I wanted in my heart of hearts, but there were so many things that could go wrong that I knew whatever route I took was sure to be met with some stumbling blocks.
“Wait. Where are you going? That was my street,” I said, frantically looking out the window as Joel sped past my turn-off, which I knew he was familiar with. After the day I had, I wanted nothing more than to get working on exactly what I had planned only minutes before getting suspended—wine and sweats.
“Oh, did you think I was taking you home? That’s cute.”
“Joel, this isn’t funny. Please just take me home.”
“I’m sorry. No can do. I don’t trust Lara, and until all of this is over, I think you should stay with me. She doesn’t know about this place, and the security there is top notch so you’ll be a lot safer with me than where you live.”
“OK, maybe I should explain social norms to you, such as how to ask people for their input. FYI, I’m not OK with this. You’re essentially kidnapping me.”
“That’s just semantics. I’d prefer to call it taking care of you. There’s that mental inaptitude again.”
“Stop the car.”
“Blaire. Don’t be like that,” he looked over at me again and must have seen how on edge I was. Wiping the smile from his face, he adjusted his argument. “OK, compromise?”
I crossed my arms over my chest while waiting for his “compromise.”
“Come home with me tonight, and if you still want to leave tomorrow, I promise I’ll take you back myself.”
“I don’t know if I trust you,” I said, still questioning his true intentions. Was I just an itch that Joel needed to scratch, a conquest of his—seeing as how I very well may have been the only woman in Vegas to ever say no to anything Joel desired, or were his intentions pure? Did he really just want to ensure I was safe, seeing as how his ex had a few loose screws? Was I willing to trust him? It wasn’t like I really expected him to force me to stay with him if I insisted he take me home, but I also didn’t trust that if we had sex, we wouldn’t be stuck in the same cycle as when we were riding out the storm together—days lost as our bodies united over and over again. And chances were, if I stayed the night, I wouldn’t be able to resist the lure of that mouth, the temptation of his skin against mine.
“Well, that’ll have to be the first thing I fix then, won’t it?”
I huffed out a skeptical sound but said nothing further as he drove farther west toward Red Rock. We approached the gate of The Ridges community, and I looked at Joel, somewhat surprised he owned a home in one of the most exclusive areas in Las Vegas. He didn’t really strike me as the type to own a home off a golf course, especially considering it seemed like a world away from all of the action of the strip—hunting grounds for a man like Joel.
The man stationed at the gate tipped his head, Joel returned the sentiment, and the gates drew back. I looked out of the window with slight wonder at the beautiful landscape and even more beautiful, multimillion-dollar homes that could be considered small communities in and of themselves. The Ridges was home to some of the largest and most extravagant homes in Las Vegas. I’d never met anyone who even knew someone who lived in the development, so I’d never had a chance to see behind the curtain, but my eyes didn’t miss a thing as Joel navigated the streets high up to a hill that seemed to overlook the rest of Vegas.
Joel pulled up outside an elaborately carved stone mansion that was obnoxious in size and overwhelming in its opulence. I looked over at Joel to double-check that we were in fact at the right address. I knew Joel had money, but hearing about that kind of money and seeing it were two very different things.
“Ready?” Joel finally looked at me, somehow acknowledging my astonishment with just that one word.
I unbuckled my seatbelt and followed Joel into his palace.
Chapter Nine
Joel’s home looked like something you’d find overlooking the Mediterranean Sea, with its tiled roof and stone and plastered walls. Terra cotta pots filled with succulents and tropical flowers lined the walkway. Outlining the front door were large beige columns, and archways accentuated the height of the two-story windows. The front doors were made of the same dark wood that matched the four-car garage.
After unlocking the front door, he pushed it open for me to enter. A large chandelier hung above a marble pedestal table, shining light on a vase holding a bundle of tropical flowers. The floor was made of some stone that shone like diamonds beneath the crystal teardrops of the chandelier. From the front door you could see the iron staircase leading up to the second story. Beyond that, there was a large window with an impressive view of the backyard and lagoon.
Sitting atop a hill, Joel’s home overlooked the city. I moved closer to the window to get a better view.
“The view’s better on the second story. Come, I’ll show you around.”
He held out his hand for me like he’d lose me if our hands weren’t interconnected. I couldn’t deny my body craved the touch of his skin against mine. When his fingers reached mine, it sent a signal through my body, a spark that made me hyper-aware of the heat radiating from his palm. He smiled as my fingers slid in his, and like a child eager to show his new friend all his toys, we dashed through the house. With wide eyes, taking in the splendor of all the rich woods and beautiful stone, I admired each incredible view from every room. Red Rock Canyon was visible from every window in the front of the house, while the back of the house displayed panoramic views of Vegas. The whole first floor was a blur as we dashed from living room to kitchen, office to den. He led me up the stairs and showed me a home theater and gym, three bedrooms with amazing bathrooms and glorious bathtubs, large enough to seat up to four people easily.
“You stay here all by yourself?” I asked as he led me to the end of the hall, to the room with the only set of double doors—what I imagined to be his bedroom. I swallowed the lump that seemed to be building in my throat. The tour would come to this point, I knew that, but seeing those formidable doors and the man of the house standing before them, it felt like too much. There seemed to be much more weight behind the act there in his home than there was back at mine—where everything seemed so light and frivolous. Perhaps that was because at my house we imagined we would go our separate ways as soon as the storm let up. At his, there were no more excuses. This would mean we were moving beyond the realm of one-night stands and dangling in the precarious waters of a quasi-relationship.
He released my hand and the absence of it elicited a visceral response, one that echoed a familiar ache that had taken up residence over the past several weeks.
The doors opened to a king-size bed, with sheets that looked like a cloud of white marshmallows piled at the edge of the bed, demonstrating last night’s usage.
A nightstand sat on either side of the bed, and a wood platform was positioned at the end of the bed, holding a TV that seemed entirely too big for the room. Beyond the left side of the bed was a hallway with clothes lining both sides of the wall. At the end of the hallway, you could see a glimpse of a sunken tub, lined in a darker shade of the travertine tile that seemed to be in the rest of the home.
I didn’t know what I was expecting from his home, but despite the castle-like appearance, the home was filled with modern yet casual furniture. I’d almost expected to find velvet-lined couches and silk-paneled curtains, hideous plaid colors, Persian rugs, or those cognac-colored leather club chairs that always seemed to find their way in homes such as these, but I’d yet to see one.
“So, this is your bedroom?” I asked moving to the window that overlooked the backyard. A rainbow of colors cycled across the pool, highlighting the kidney-shaped pool and the little waterfall that seemed to flow over a large boulder down into one side of the water, opposite a Jacuzzi. Lush flora decorated the grounds, enough to keep a gardener busy every day of the week, unlike my yard, which only saw the gardener once every two weeks.
With my back facing Joel, I didn’t see when he approached, but I still felt the heat from his body long before he touched me. Those few minutes stretched out to an eternity where he left me waiting, hoping, and silently pleading for just a touch that would fuse our bodies together.
His hands fell across my shoulders before rising beneath the nape of my hair, massaging the tension I didn’t even know lingered within every muscle. I rolled my shoulders, and his fingers crept beyond the collar of my blazer, dragging my jacket back until the fabric brushed my fingertips before falling to the floor. The last of my reservations dropped like grenade pins, signaling the imminent explosion. I held my breath as the heat from his hands made me feel naked beneath his touch. It was only befitting that Joel remove all of my clothes, stripping me down bare until nothing remained between us—that had been his goal from the moment he saw me. He said so himself.
The last thing I expected when I woke up that morning was to be seduced by Joel, but now I was there in his home with his hands caressing my skin and his mouth hovering nearby. He kissed me in the dip where my shoulder met my neck. His lips were soft and gentle, something else I didn’t expect from this man who had more secrets than Area 51. Every touch, every kiss, every breath seemed laced with a reverential depth I didn’t think Joel was even capable of. With one hand on my waist, he used his other hand to push my hair past my shoulder, gaining access to my neck. I tilted my head and he descended without further invitation. His hands may have been gentle and patient, but his mouth was quick and needy. He kissed and licked his way up to my ear where he nibbled. The glass fogged as the breath from my whimper beat against the pane.
His hands felt like magic as he moved up the length of my arms, causing a wave of goosebumps to erupt in his wake. My shirt slid from my shoulders before I realized he’d even unbuttoned my blouse. His hands cupped my breasts from behind, pressing so tightly against my lace bra that I was sure he could feel my stiffened nipples beneath the fabric separating us. He squeezed and kneaded, tugging an invisible wire with direct access to the space between my legs that throbbed for his attention. Could he feel my heart racing between his clutching palms? Did he know the effect he had on my body? Did he know the response his touch garnered?
“Your body is so beautiful, Blaire. How could you try to keep this from me?” His fingers trailed down the center of my stomach, and I tried to tighten the muscles there so he wouldn’t feel the quivering of my body, begging to become his chew toy. That still didn’t stop the moan that fell from my lips like glass breaking against the stone floor, the sound echoing around the room, hitting us twice as hard from every angle.
My body grew stiff as his fingers crept beneath the band of my skirt, slipping past the resistance of my underwear.
“I would say your body missed me, even if you didn’t. Shall I find out?”
“Please, Joel.” I knew what my body wanted; we both did. I didn’t want him to draw this out another minute longer than necessary. I’d tortured us both long enough. All I wanted in that moment was him. There was no question of what would happen next. I’d be exactly what Joel wanted me to be.
He spun me around. Facing him, he pushed down my skirt, and I stepped out of the binding clothing. Joel pulled me close, and my hands slipped beneath his shirt, finding purchase in the muscles that acted like steppingstones to the rest of his body. My bra came loose, and soon I was standing completely naked before him. He took a couple steps back until he was flush with the bed, where he sat down and positioned me between his legs so he could feast on my body. He kissed across my collarbone and around my breasts, and I thrust my chest out, signaling exactly where I wanted those kisses. I dug my fingers into his hair, and the dark strands darted up between my clenched fists as I pulled his head closer. He took a hint and his tongue peeked out to lick each of my nipples as his fingers found their way between my legs. There were no tentative touches. When it came to sliding between my legs, Joel went straight for gold. He struck my pleasure center, circling my clit with those large fingers of his.
“What do you want inside this cunt first? My fingers or my dick?” he asked as his fingers circled my opening.
I didn’t answer him. Instead, I took his hand in mine and showed him just where he could put those fingers. I helped him enter my body and trembled as I welcomed two of his fingers inside me. He rocked in and out of me with gusto, taking my nipple between his teeth, so every part of my body was efficiently tortured. Joel pulled me closer, and I stumbled and fell into his lap with knees pressed on either side of him on the bed.
“I’ve missed watching you come. How your eyes flutter as I bring you to release. Like a hummingbird’s wings. Things are going to be a little different tonight though, Blaire, because when I make you come over and over again, I’m going to force you to look in my eyes so you and your body both know I’m the one who makes you come like this. Nobody else. Do you understand, Blaire?”
“Yes. Please, Joel.”
“Is my pretty bird ready for the first one already? I should torture this little pussy like it’s been torturing me. Tell me, Blaire, how many times have I made you come since the day you kicked me out?”
“I don’t know. I can’t remember.”
“Too many to count?”
“Yes, Joel, yes. It was too many…every day, Joel. You made me come every day. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. You were a sickness I wanted to purge from my body.”
His fingers escaped me, and before I had a chance to protest the emptiness he left me with, he began circling my clit—faster, harder, as if he couldn’t control the pace his fingers set.
