She nods shortly, not replying and hurrying out of my office—not the usual Keisha reaction I’m used to. I glimpse down at my calendar to see if I had anything scheduled. Nope, my day is all clear just like I thought. That was weird of her.
As my visitor walks through my doorway, it’s like a mist fills the room along with him. I see Thaddaeus standing in front of me, those tawny-colored irises scorching toward me with so many unspoken words as he peers down at me. I feel as if I’m staring through a distorted glass, not truly seeing him, just knowing he’s there.
My throat grows tight and my belly warms as chills overtake the skin on my arms. How can he have this sort of effect over my body? He’s here in my office and all I can do is gawk. His mere existence steals my voice every time he’s near, as if nothing could possibly be important enough to say out loud, but rather, just be in his presence.
“Bella, you still refuse to greet me?” His glare is angry, believing that I’m purposefully being rude to him once again.
“No, I choke out, attempting to refrain from stuttering like a silly schoolgirl meeting her first crush. “I mean, I was taken off guard. I apologize if it came off as rude; that’s the last thing I want you to associate me with.”
He clicks his tongue, his momentarily irritation dissolving, “You were surprised by me? Didn’t we have a lesson over expecting the unexpected?”
“If that’s what you’d like to call it, then yes,” I retort smartly, not fond in the slightest of being reminded of his unsettling ways to ‘teach’ me something. His gaze flairs with my smartass retort, but what did he expect after the last so-called lesson that he gave me? Maybe I should dress up as a nun and smack his ass with a ruler—see how much he likes being reprimanded.
No … I have an inkling that he’d enjoy that too much.
Thaddaeus leans over my desk, and his fingertips graze my jaw. His thumb slightly passes over my bottom lip before his hand drops away. “Always so flawless, Bella—even stuffed behind this desk for most of the day.”
“Um…thank you. I sent you a message about the coat; it’s beautiful. The shoes, they’re unbelievable, nothing like I’ve ever worn before. I appreciate your thoughtfulness.”
He nods, his gold gaze twinkling, full of approval at my gratitude. He enjoys it that I’m pleased with his offering.
“Have you never been courted before, Grace?”
“Courted? No-no, I haven’t.”
So, he is courting me! I had wondered, but now to hear it come directly from his mouth, it sounds like I should’ve been expecting his gifts. They don’t seem so out of place, now that I know it’s his intention. My answer brings a brief smirk to his face, clearly content with what he hears, knowing that he’s the first one to do this for me.
Each time he speaks, that amazing voice of his, has me conjuring up images of him between my thighs, moaning with enjoyment. Fuck. I can’t think like that with him here. I know my cheeks must be red. No doubt that he’ll notice it; he catches every little detail when it comes to me.
“That natural blush makes you remarkably stunning Grace. Did you know that?”
I shake my head, unable to form a decent reply. The only thing coming to mind is me wondering if he’ll keep talking if I beg him to. I just want to listen to that delicious baritone of his, over and over.
“Shame. I’m assuming you won’t share those thoughts you have rolling around in that mind of yours, huh? Nevertheless, I’ve come to deliver todays surprise in person.”
If only he’d done this from the beginning, maybe I’d be better at speaking to him by this point. It’s close to lunch, so maybe he’s brought food again. I am getting hungry and a chance to eat with him in a neutral place is a step in the right direction.
“That’s very thoughtful of you. Are we having lunch or something?”
He draws in a quick breath, and I think I’m the one who’s caught him off guard this time. His tongue pokes out just enough to wet his bottom lip as his eyes run over me and then my desk again. I’d almost swear that he’s picturing me on top of it, being his lunch. The thought has me shifting in my chair, chanting silently to hold still so he can’t tell that his regard alone has me squirming.
“I hadn’t planned on it or I’d have brought something with me. I’d enjoy that in the future though, if you wouldn’t mind?”
“No, not at all. I like getting eaten here; it’s convenient.” I don’t even realize how I’ve screwed up that sentence until it’s too late and it’s out in the open. My cheeks are so hot from that little slip, if you saw me, you’d swear that I had a sunburn.
“Noted.” He growls, his jaw flexing as he clenches his teeth and inhales deeply. Obviously catching on to what I’d said on accident and am thinking to myself while I sit, nearly salivating for him. “You like Italian, cara?”
“Yes.” Staring at him makes me realize that I like everything Italian, not just my food.
After a moment, he swallows and pulls out an envelope from the inside pocket of his jacket. It’s a plain, long white nondescript business envelope. He lays it on my desk and pushes it toward me with the exact same two fingers he used to touch me with earlier and in the restaurant.
“A letter?”
I can’t fathom what on earth he’d write in one or remember the last time anyone wrote me an actual letter. I’m excited to find out what it says, especially after hearing that he’s courting me. Hopefully it’s romantic or makes me laugh.
“No, my dear, but perhaps I’ll do that for you in the future as well.”
I would love that. Simple gestures like that aren’t utilized enough, especially when you care for someone. “It sounds like you’re making a lot of plans past our ten days.” I’m not exactly sure of how I feel about it either. Part of me is thrilled with the prospect while the other part is apprehensive.
“Indeed I am. I hope you’ll start thinking about it as well.”
Shifting in my seat again, I consider him losing the custom-tailored, formfitting jacket he’s got on, and loosening that slim, black tie, he’s knotted so perfectly around his neck. I bet his shoulders and arms are superbly cut and corded with hard muscles under all those clothes. His height’s probably intimidating to many, but I’d bet underneath all that material the extra length showcases his body perfectly. My thoughts from before return full force; looking like that, how on earth can he possibly be so bad and do I really care at this point if he is?
He speaks so proper compared to everyone else. Is it his wealth? I’d expect slang or something to come out of his mouth instead with him being a supposed criminal. His words remind me more of a gentleman, someone you’d read about or watch in a movie. Could he be the modern-day version? I doubt I’d ever be so lucky to meet him, if so. Clearly, I’ve had one too many dates alone on my couch watching Gone With The Wind, if I’m busily searching for a hidden Rhett Butler amongst this man in front of me.
He’d give Rhett a run for his money.
“Can I open it now?” Either the envelope or his shirt, but somethings gotta happen before I explode inside with all this excitement welling up that I’ve felt since he walked through my office door.
Is this how it’ll always be around him? Ten minutes in his presence, and all I can think about is the two of us—naked. I feel like a sex maniac with pent-up desires whose itch needs to be scratched. I need a booty call, evidently. It’s been too damn long since the last time I had a guy in the sack.
“I’d love nothing more than to see your face when you do, but I’d prefer it if you waited until I’ve left.”
“Why? Will it hurt me?” I can’t help but ask, the fear creeping up in my mind from the night walking home.
“Oh Grace,” He clicks his tongue. “Part of you is so naïve and then you’ll show me a brief glance at the passion brewing inside, and it makes me wonder which one you really are. No, it will not hurt you. On the contrary, I’m hoping this will make you extremely happy. However, if you try to object or return it, I’
ll be offended. So, rather than have our first face-to-face argument before I’ve had the chance to take you to dinner, I’d prefer to leave, rather than bend you over and spank you. I’ll let you worry it over in your head, before you realize the best route is to simply say thank you and use it.”
Wow.
I don’t know if I should be offended or not. He clearly thinks he has me pegged on what my reaction will be, and maybe he’s right. But to come out and say it like that is somewhat pompous. And the threat to spank me in retaliation to me arguing has my core clenching at all the possibilities with him.
There’s a small probability that he’s a mind reader and can play me like a fiddle, but he seems to be intrigued, so hopefully that’s not really the case. I love it that he’s observant, but I don’t like being too predictable to him so easily and so soon.
I can’t stop picturing him spanking me now. Thanks for that, Thaddaeus.
Ugh, he makes me turn into this wanton shell of myself. I’m not normally sitting here, stewing over sex, imagining me taking it, whichever way he’d give it to me. It’s him, being here, it has me all twisted up. He needs to leave so I can think clearly again.
“Or maybe you’re a coward and you’re afraid I won’t like it? Are you always too scared to stick around?” I’m nervous and yet again my snark comes out to play. Him threatening me along with so much damn tension in the air has me almost begging for a fight with him. I need to be fucked by this man and badly, preferably on my desk and right now.
I swear he emits a low moan under his breath, and his hands close into fists. Obviously, I’ve pushed some buttons, either he’s pissed or my attitude makes him hard.
“Open it,” he demands while staring at my mouth. I’d swear the man wants me to open my mouth and not the envelope with the way he orders it, making a burst of air leave me in a rush.
“No, I’ll wait.” I wave him off. “Go ahead and leave.”
“I said, open it.” It’s not a request and with the command, his jaw flexes again as he grinds his teeth.
Hastily grabbing my letter opener, I slit through the crisp paper at the top. My irritated gaze stares at him nearly the entire time while he watches my hands. I want him to meet my eyes, but he’s waiting for the moment that I discover what’s inside. He’s way too sure of himself, a touch too cocky for my liking. I enjoy a confident man, but this one’s head is held a bit too high.
There’s a printout of some sort, kind of like a bill or something. Pulling it free, I check it over and notice all my information listed, along with a destination and confirmation number. Freaky that he knows so much about me when I’ve shared basically nothing with him or Maximillian.
Scanning over each detail, I come to find that it’s a plane ticket to visit my mother. There’s no date of flight or return; it’s for whenever I’m able to get off work. I didn’t know tickets like this were even possible. They always ask for dates.
This is the most meaningful thing anyone could do for me—truly. I don’t know how he possibly knew, but he did. Now I understand why he appeared so smug; he earned that look.
Tears fill my eyes with his thoughtfulness. I don’t know how he could’ve figured it out or who he could’ve spoken to, but I‘ve wanted to visit my mom for so long. I couldn’t afford it with my regular bills and expenses. I’ve been too proud to ask my mother to help me pay for it. I’m twenty-nine years old. Financially, I should have my shit together by now. For the most part I do, but Chicago is expensive.
A few tears cascade over my cheeks and when I look back up, Thaddaeus no longer appears irritated at my rude remark. His eyes are gentler as they take me in, watching their fill. I don’t have a clue as to what to say to him.
He was completely right about me wanting to run it through my mind over and over, until I ultimately decide it’s a gift that I don’t want to give up. He’s undoubtedly forgiven for the alley incident and he knows it. I don’t know if it bothers me that he could figure out a way to frighten me and then turn around with a way to basically wipe it out. A man shouldn’t be able to be that quick and cunning to pull something like that off, but he is. No wonder why the courts could never put him away if this is the type of man they’re dealing with. He doesn’t play fair.
“Do you love it?” he finally whispers, saying the last thing I would’ve imagined coming out of his mouth.
“I do.”
“Then it’s served its purpose. I must go, but I’ll see you soon,” he says, turning to leave.
I nod as another tear rolls down my cheek. “Um, Thaddaeus?”
He halts instantly at me speaking his name out loud to him for the first time. He remains turned away from me, his shoulders stiff, the muscles strung tight as he waits for me to finish. No doubt expecting to let him have it with one of my smartass retorts.
“Th-thank you,” I breathe, drawing in another breath. “This is incredibly thoughtful and has made me so, so happy.”
His ember irises meet my gaze over his shoulder, his back relaxing with my words. “You’re very welcome, Bella,” he mutters softly and exits my office.
I wish he’d stay. I want to hug him tightly for this and perhaps kiss him; he deserves a meaningful token of affection for a gesture like this. Nothing I can say will convey what this gift means to me, and the fact that he thought of it speaks volumes. He pays attention and eventually someday I want a man who notices the little things. I think in the end, it’ll make a huge difference in our lives.
Staring down at the ticket again, all I can think of is that the other day in the alley is forgiven and forgotten. There’s no argument about it; the anger has completely vanished. I’ve never believed that I could be bought, but he hit me straight in my heart. In the end, I’ll either love him or hate him, because I have a feeling this is merely the beginning for us.
Be careful who you call your friends.I’d rather have four quartersThan one hundred pennies.
-Al Capone
Day Number Nine…
“Hey, Keisha,” I greet the next morning as I come into the office.
“Oh, Grace, I wanted to talk to you yesterday before you left, but everyone had me reconfirming weekly appointments and updating their calendars. I got distracted, but it’s important, if you don’t mind.”
“You juggle us all well,” I respond and chuckle. She’s one hell of a secretary/receptionist to us all. “You know I always have time for you; what’s up?”
“Thanks. So, about yesterday—” she starts and I interrupt.
“No worries, I knew who he was and I wasn’t busy. It’s fine, really.”
“Good, but—”
I cut her off again, not to be rude, but because I’m excited. “He sent a car for me today. It was the ninth surprise. It wasn’t just any car either; it was a beautiful BMW. I’ve never ridden in such a nice car, even my mom’s Lincoln doesn’t compare to it.”
“That’s great, but do you really know who he is?”
“Yes, I know him. Why, are you familiar with who he is?”
She nods with the same worried look Kaleigh first gave me at the restaurant when Thaddaeus showed up. I’m not in the mood for more lectures from people who have no clue what he’s really like. He’s been kind to me—spoiling me and showing me he cares in all types of ways. I find it hard to believe that he’s as evil as everyone claims he is.
“Are you going to warn me off him? Because trust me, Kaleigh’s already done that.” I refrain from rolling my eyes, but the urge is strong.
“No, not necessarily. I was just curious if you knew him and what he’s all about, is all.”
“I mean, I know ‘of him.’ I’ve heard rumors and then I saw online where he was in the papers and at court a lot.” No use sugarcoating it.
“And none of it bothered you? Not even a little bit?”
“Well, of course, it’s disturbing to read and to hear that stuff, but surely it can’t all be true or he’d be in jail. Plus, he’s been nothing but kind to me.”
“Do you have proof of any of it? How is it that everyone has these horrible opinions of him, yet I’ve not seen it? He seems a little dangerous, definitely, but that isn’t always a bad thing.”
“As a matter a fact I do; I actually know all about him. I’m going to share something with you—between us—since we’re friends, okay?”
I nod, not sure if I’m ready to hear this or not.
“Okay, so, I dated a guy back in high school who got mixed up in Joker’s business.” Her eyebrows rise. “That’s his name, if you didn’t know, and it suits him.” She visibly shivers a little.
“Yeah, I know that’s what some call him.” He’s smirked and grinned at me, so the rumor that he never smiles isn’t true.
“Well, you know his boys that are always with him?”
“I’ve seen them.”
“They run everything for him pretty much and Joker oversees it all. He’s related to half of the Italian Mafia in Chicago. He’s, I guess you’d call him their ‘street guy’ in a sense. Any issues that Joker can’t take care of, the Mafia Boss steps in and handles it. But as I’m sure you’ve seen with the papers and articles published online about him, he does a decent job of running the streets. This way it looks like the gangs are doing all the damage, when, in reality, it’s the Mafia behind everything—money laundering, sex trade, drugs, stolen cars, you name it.”
“And this guy that worked for him, you’re not with him anymore?”
“No, he’s gone. Joker’s buddy—Maximillian Macintosh—is in charge of drug distribution. He’s the one that had my boyfriend killed. They’d never admit to it, but I know that’s what happened. There’s no way that Denzel would’ve up and left me out of the blue, he wasn’t like that. He was pretty open to me about everything they were having him do, so I’d put my money on them killing him any day.”
Gangster Page 7
