by C. C. Piper
I wanted to find out why he’d hired me, but I wanted to know other things more. Like why the hell he’d left without deigning to contact me through so much as an email.
Be en guard, Jaxson Liddell, because ready or not, you’re about to receive both barrels.
6
Jaxson
My jaw dropped the second I saw her, and now that she was a little riled, she was even more impressive. I’d always known Roxanne Miller to be the most ravishing woman ever. Wearing this skin-tight red number and those fuck-me high-heeled contraptions only served to confirm that statement.
And her scent… Christ. It was similar to what I remembered of her natural aroma with the addition of something flowery I couldn’t identify. The combination incited my desire even more.
I’d felt a lot of anticipation for laying eyes on her again, and Jesus Christ, she didn’t disappoint. That expanse of olive skin, smooth and flawless. That spellbinding face of hers with those mesmerizing green eyes. The luscious sway of her gait as she walked remained just as I remembered it, her hips had always had this natural rhythm to them, all her movements as much a dance as anything else.
Her scarlet lips begged to be touched, suckled and nibbled on. And she’d done as I’d asked and put her hair up in a messy and unlawfully erotic loose ponytail, exposing that creamy neck. Speaking of touching, suckling and nibbling…
I was as hard as a rock the split second I’d creaked the door open.
I’d asked her to dress up, but now I felt like my plan had backfired. That gown and what I imagined to be underneath it made my lungs constrict so tightly I couldn’t inhale or exhale to save my life. She was just too goddamned gorgeous to be allowed. I’d die young, but at least I’d go happy.
Even if I loved her, and she didn’t love me.
Fuck, that did it. I could breathe again, even if the air going in and out now hurt like a bitch. But that was nothing new. I’d been breathing painful air for four and a half years at this point. Which brought me to why I’d invited her here. I needed answers, no matter what those answers were. My horny body began to deflate, allowing me to better focus.
Remembering my purpose and getting more of my blood back to my brain reignited my anger at the whole situation, but I offered her my arm to usher her further inside anyway. She took it, barely making contact, and yet I could still feel her, even through the fabric of my suit jacket.
Automatically, I moved my other hand to cover hers, noticing her fingers were freezing despite the sultry Louisiana summer. As soon as I touched her, adrenaline pumped through me double time. My palm recognized hers and squeezed, not wanting to let it go. She gasped and yanked away, breaking the hypnotic pull she had over me.
How was this even possible? How could she still exert so much power over me after such a long absence? I struggled to keep my ire burning. If I didn’t, if I let what she’d done settle over me, I’d never get through this. It’d taken me so long to get over her. I’d spent so many of my nights missing her, aching for her, that I didn’t want to think about them. I couldn’t let her under my skin again. I didn’t think I could survive it.
Which meant zero touching. Naught. Nil. None.
Whose bright idea had it been for her to dress to kill again? Oh, that’s right. It was idiot number one’s idea.
In other words, mine.
Christ.
“Oh,” she released a tiny outburst, and I looked up, scanning the end product of my oh-so-brilliant-plan. There was a look of awe on her face, and it reminded me of the first time we’d hung out as more than friends.
We’d both been only fifteen, and I’d asked her to sit with me. As my partner and friend, she probably would’ve sat with me anyway, but I’d wanted this to be special. Our debate team had won a bunch of awards – Roxy and I included; we’d made one hell of a team – so to celebrate, our teacher had taken us out for a day at a local ice rink and frozen custard place.
We’d shared the same frozen custard while holding hands, then we got out on the ice. We were both untried on ice skates; Roxy had never had the money to go before, and my parents had never taken the time. So we attacked the learning curve together. We fell together. We giggled together. We both made it about ten feet before stumbling again together. It’d been the single greatest day of my life up to that point, and I wasn’t even a virgin.
Roxy and I just got each other. We fit in every way that counted.
Then, after the field trip bus dropped us off and we waited on our tardy parents, we had our first kiss. I’d kissed one girl before, the same girl I’d lost my virginity to, and to be fair, neither had gone especially well. But with Roxy, it felt like we’d been kissing all our lives. We improved even more as time went on, went from innocent pecks to these deep drawn-out smooches that led to eventual orgasms for both of us.
Yet I’d never forget that first spectacular caress of her lips on mine.
Tonight, I thought it’d be nice to meet up in a restaurant setting, but I’d wanted privacy, so I had the Wish Maker find us a setting off the beaten path. This place, still in the midst of a renovation, worked for me.
Along with an elaborate chandelier hanging directly overhead, the space had newly laid carpet so plush your feet would sink into it, as well as chocolate-stained wainscoting covering the bottom half of the walls. The table and chairs were hand-carved and brand new, the place settings a mix of china, crystal and silver utensils. A chef had drummed us up some pre-prepared delicacies, leaving once the food was ready.
There were Po’ Boy sandwiches. Etouffee. Jambalaya. Dirty rice. It was a smorgasbord of local delights. A smorgasbord I hadn’t had access to in what felt like forever. I knew Roxy loved this kind of food, too. Shellfish with spice. Couldn’t go wrong there. I allowed myself to inhale the delectable aromas wafting over to us from across the room.
“I thought this was someone’s house,” she said, eyeing all the food, tables and chairs.
“It used to be. It was one of the grandest mansions in the area, but it’s fallen on hard times as you can probably tell. It’s been rezoned as an eatery, though it won’t open for a while yet. Still, the Wish Maker has her ways, so we’re able to get a taste of the menu before anyone else.”
I pulled her chair out for her – being diligent about avoiding physical contact – and she sat down. Before I could push her chair in for her, she skewered me with a question.
“Why did you bring me here, Jax?”
I had to clench my teeth at that one. Could she really not guess? “I would’ve thought that obvious.” She yanked her gaze from the tabletop to my face, her eyes widening. “I believe a talk is highly overdue, don’t you?”
Her features relaxed at that, and I caught a glimpse of the Roxy I once knew, only for it to vanish as swiftly as it had materialized. It was so confusing to be with her like this. It was like hearing a song typically played by a Stradivarius violin being butchered by an out-of-tune trombone. Similar and almost recognizable but off.
Way off.
Silence reigned, heavy and unwieldy. At last, I gestured at the food.
“Go ahead and dig in. Don’t want all this getting cold.”
She picked at everything but the dirty rice as if it was all contaminated. I ate several bites so I wouldn’t say anything about it. She never used to be picky. Hell, she used to eat almost anything I placed in front of her. But maybe I was being too harsh. Maybe she felt anxious about this reunion. Christ knew I did. Eventually, though, I felt compelled to speak up about it.
“What’s wrong?”
“What do you mean?”
“You love seafood. Why aren’t you eating any of it?” I asked, and she winced. Literally winced. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
Finally, she managed a quiet, “I can’t.”
I blinked. “You can’t?”
“Ever since I had morning…” She trailed off. Her last word barely audible. Had she said she’d been in mourning? Had someone she’d known died?<
br />
“Ever since what?” I asked her, hoping she’d raise her volume enough that I could hear her. But she didn’t. Instead, she clammed up and pushed the plate away. Okay, fine. Whatever. What difference did it make? So I didn’t know what she ate anymore, big deal.
Except it felt like a big deal.
It felt like she’d become a different person, and the thought of that made me unbearably sad.
“So, you got back recently. Where were you living?” she asked me. Good, maybe we could break through this uncomfortable tenseness.
“London. I took over the branch when my father wanted us to extend our brand overseas.”
“Have you been there this whole time?”
“Over the past four and a half years. Yes.”
She huffed out a laugh that didn’t sound the least bit amused. “Wow.”
I peered over at her, waiting. When she didn’t elaborate on her “wow,” I spoke up. “What does ‘wow’ mean?”
What sucked ass more than anything was that I used to know what her “wow” meant. I used to know what every word out of her mouth meant. I used to be able to read her like a book, and yet now as I looked at her, it felt like I’d gone blind without the benefit of learning braille.
She gave another mirthless chuckle and shook her head at me as if I was the stupidest person on the planet. “Wow means it would’ve been nice if you’d bothered to let me know where you were going. Or at least informed me once you’d arrived.”
Bothered to… Was she fucking kidding me?
“I tried to tell you every way I knew how,” I burst out, louder than was probably strictly necessary.
“Uh huh,” she said, pursing her lips and shooting me a look of disbelief.
“I did. I called. I texted. I tried your mom’s cell when I couldn’t get through to yours, but they’d both been disconnected. Hell, I even sent you at least a dozen letters. None of which I heard anything back from, by the way.”
“That’s the story you’re going with? Honestly?” She still doubted me. How could she doubt the gospel truth?
“It’s not a story, Roxy. It’s what happened. You cut me off and never spoke to me again.” I attempted to modulate the tone of my voice, but it was difficult. Not being able to get through to her after all those attempts had nearly destroyed me.
“Wow.”
Again, with the wow. What the actual hell?
“Hey, if you want to delude yourself, that’s up to you.”
“I’m not deluding…” I shouted, jerking to my feet. Then I stilled, forcing myself to calm down before I said something I’d regret. I didn’t know why she’d hurt me back then or why she seemed to want to do it again now, but I didn’t think I could take these refusals to believe me. “Why would I delude myself, pray tell?” I spoke with slow sarcasm, spitting out each word like goddamn viper venom. This occurred sometimes when I stifled my fury. But I didn’t want to yell.
Her expression contorted into something nasty. “You left me, Jaxson. You left me out of the blue with no explanation.”
Hadn’t she heard what I’d just said?
“I’m attempting to explain now. Leaving you wasn’t my choice. My father basically woke me up out of dead sleep, pushed me onto a plane with him, then told me what the deal was only after we’d landed. I panicked and lashed out at him, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer. He said he had to go, and he trotted off back home without giving me the means or resources to follow him.”
If she’d heard the arguments I’d had with him and my mom at the time, she wouldn’t be so incredulous. I’d ranted and railed at first, then I’d begged and bargained to come back. They each outright refused. I had to sink or swim in my new position, but there was no going home either way. It felt like they wanted to get rid of me. Like I was nothing but a piece of trash to them rather than their only child.
What kind of decent parent does that?
One or the other of them had called in weekly to check my progress on the business. That was it. All they’d given me. I reviled them for essentially taking away my life and likely always would, though with my father’s recent passing, my emotions were all over the place concerning him. I hated him, yet I’d spent years attempting to gain his approval.
I’d also been taught not to speak ill of the dead.
I didn’t know if it was an occult thing, a Louisiana thing or a Southern thing, but whichever the origin, it had stuck with me. The belief was ingrained and hard to remove, like an ingrown toenail.
I hadn’t gotten through to the girl I loved no matter how many different ways I’d tried to do it. At the six-month point, I gave one last-ditch effort by sending a certified letter that would have to be signed for, but Roxy hadn’t written back even after that. So after losing my collective shit, I gave in to the inevitable. I did what my parents insisted I do. And for years, I was absolutely miserable doing it.
By the time I’d built up enough funds on my own to return, I concluded that I’d been unceremoniously dumped by everyone I’d ever cared about and didn’t want to come back anymore.
Roxy threw up her hands as if she could no longer stand to listen to me. Why? I’d just told her the whole truth and nothing but the truth, but she still regarded me with nothing but denial in her gaze. Was this her way of covering up the fact that she’d been the one to shut me out, not the other way around? I couldn’t get that thought out of my head. My anger bubbled over, so I went on the offensive.
“Exactly what type of work are you doing for the Wish Maker, anyway?” I gave her a none-too-subtle once-over. “I got to admit, I never imagined you doing something like this, something so…”
“So what?” she prompted, fire roaring to life in her eyes.
“So degrading. You were always so smart, Roxy. Lowering yourself down to such a level is a waste. I mean, Christ. All I can think of is that Wish Maker woman ordering you to jump and you automatically asking, ‘How high?’” Visualizing what she must have been doing for this woman, the tawdry nature of it after she’d been so innocent with me…
It made me want to hurl.
She gaped at me, her mouth falling open, a mix of emotions shadowing her features. I probably shouldn’t have said anything and part of me regretted my words as soon as I’d unleashed them, but damn. I was so disappointed and frankly, devastated by how this evening was going that I couldn’t see straight.
“I think it’s best if I go,” she said, standing so that her chair made a harsh rumbling sound behind her. She grabbed her clutch in a tight frenzied movement and stalked off the way she’d come in.
And it hit me all at once. I hadn’t lost Roxy Miller. I must not have ever had her at all. Maybe she was correct in saying I’d been deluded. I’d apparently been laboring under the delusion that she was the girl I’d believed her to be. Some kind and caring girl who had loved me once upon a time.
But she wasn’t. She wasn’t then, and she wasn’t now.
All these years I’d been secretly holding out hope that everything that had transpired had all been some massive misunderstanding. Something we could undo. But clearly, that wasn’t the case. Roxy had simply pulled the wool over my eyes.
Boy, had she ever.
I didn’t try to keep her from leaving. I didn’t follow her. Instead, as her reverberating slam of the door ricocheted across the cavernous room, an old proverb echoed through my head like a needle stuck in the groove of a vinyl record…
When someone shows you who they really are, believe them.
7
Roxanne
The nerve of him. The utter nerve.
I sat in my car, more incensed than I thought I’d ever been. I hadn’t known who my “client” was going to be, and once I found out, I was totally flabbergasted. Astonished. Seeing him standing there so close after our brief interaction the other day had tripped me up seven ways to Sunday.
I hadn’t wanted to believe that my heart could still cry out for his, but it could. It did.
&nbs
p; At least until tonight.
I was still dumbfounded by his lack of regard for the truth. How could he sit right there next to me and lie his ass off like that? Didn’t he know how each fabrication burrowed into my gut until I felt sick? Physically ill?
Why did he say all that? Every bit of it was so over the top. To make himself feel better for being such a douche? Such a fucking deadbeat? Not that he knew he was a deadbeat, but still.
My face was wet, and I ordered myself to quit weeping for him. He wasn’t worth it. I’d cried enough tears for him to fill an ocean already, and I refused to offer up any more. I’d anticipated an evening with an old man suffering the early stages of dementia or something similar, and instead, I’d gotten sucker punched.
I came close to telling him about Callie, but at the last minute, my instincts made me shy away from the subject. I was glad now. Even though he was her father and legally had paternal rights to her, I couldn’t in good conscience let him into her life. I wouldn’t allow his distorted fabrications to ruin her future like they’d ruined mine.
Not that my future was ruined. I had my eyes opened tonight was all. And it was long overdue.
Now I could move forward with the understanding that he was nothing but a liar. Maybe even a clinically pathological one. He’d been pretty damned convincing. If he’d been testifying to a jury, he might have swayed them to the verdict he wanted. I’d known better, of course.
All that nonsense about trying to reach me. What a crock of shit! It was me who’d attempted to reach him. I’d searched for him, but without knowing he was in London, England of all places – if that part was even true – I’d had nowhere to start.
I would’ve known if my phone had received messages, whether text or voicemail. It would have shown missed calls. It wasn’t like the technology was so difficult to use. Even if I hadn’t been able to identify the number, I would have called him back.
I’d been waiting so desperately for any news about him, I picked up every incoming eight hundred number and beyond, hoping it was somehow him. I’d hung up on so many robocalls and telemarketers, it wasn’t even funny.
