Obsessed

by Deborah Bladon

  "You're quickly becoming my everything," he whispers between heavy breaths.

  I can't speak. I don't respond. I just silently nod as one single tear falls from my cheek onto his chest.

  ***

  "We're going to Veray, Leonard." Jax holds tight to my hand as he closes the car door.

  "Certainly, Sir."

  "Did you like the apartment?" He throws the question at me.

  "What's not to like?" I playfully respond. "It's exquisite. It's so open and large."

  "You could create a perfect studio there."

  I sigh. "It would be amazing. All that natural light and the space. I could hire someone to help me with production if I worked from there. But, Jax, we need to discuss this."

  "We are," he says quietly.

  "No, I mean really discuss the terms." I pull my hand from his grasp. I want him to take this discussion seriously. He's helped me see that a new beginning, free of Mark's financial grasp would be the best step I could take right now.

  The sound of a phone ringing startles us both. He reaches into his suit pocket and shrugs his shoulders. "It's not me."

  I clumsily fish inside my purse before I feel my fingers land on my phone. I pull it from the depths and scan the screen. It's a missed call from Mark.

  "Who was it?" he asks.

  "No one." I push my phone back into my bag, not wanting to discuss Mark at this moment.

  "So, it was Mark?"

  "Does it matter?" I ask expectantly. I don't want Mark to tarnish this for me. I finally feel as though I can see a future and I desperately want to leave the past where it belongs.

  "It will always matter until you're free of him." Jax shifts his body away from me so he's staring out the car window now. "Are you going to call him back?"

  My stomach tightens at the question. "No."

  "Is the apartment the only thing tying you to him?" his voice is anxious.

  "There's more." I grit my teeth together as I say it anticipating his reaction.

  "More?" he repeats as he circles back around so he's completely facing me. "Like what?"

  "I actually wanted to talk to you about it." I run my hand through my hair. It's fallen everywhere now and I expected to have this conversation looking more like a business woman than someone Jax just fucked.

  He sits in silence, an expectant look on his face.

  "Mark, well… when we split…you know after he cheated…" my voice trails as the car comes to a stop.

  "Sorry for the interruption, Mr. Walker, but we're here." Leonard jumps from his seat to exit the car.

  "We'll continue this in my office." Jax says as he takes a step out of the car. He walks ahead of me as I struggle to tactfully exit the car having left my panties back at the Chelsea apartment.

  The elevator is at full capacity as we ride in silence to the seventh floor. I follow him to his office, only stopping to wave briefly at Teresa. I make a mental note to send her those earrings I promised as Jax closes his office door behind me.

  "Sit, Ivy." He motions towards a leather couch. He takes a seat behind his desk.

  "Are you angry with me?" I stand in front of the desk, my hands nervously fidgeting with the leather strap of my purse.

  "Angry?" He finally makes eye contact with me. "Why would you ask that?"

  "You changed in the car." I search for the right words before continuing, "I know you don't like Mark and what he did to me."

  "You're right." He flips through the messages on his desk before opening his drawer to remove a pad of paper and a pen. "He's an asshole who hurt you. I can't stand him."

  I move to sit on the couch and take a deep breath. "I don't really like talking about him."

  "We need to." He pushes his suit jacket off before moving to sit next to me. He brings the pen and pad of paper with him.

  "Are you taking notes?" I try to lighten the mood but his expression doesn’t change.

  "Perhaps." He studies my face before he speaks again. "Tell me about your ties with Mark."

  "Okay." I place my purse on my lap and adjust my necklace. I take a deep breath and look directly at him. He's looking past me to a bookcase in the corner. I've come to recognize his aloofness as a tactic he uses when coping with uncomfortable situations.

  "Mark and you?" he prompts me again.

  "When Mark cheated and we separated we didn't involve any lawyers." I spit it out.

  "That was unwise." The pen in his hand gets to work jotting something down on the paper.

  "I'm sure it was." I try not to feel offended by how impersonal he's acting. "Mark offered to give me something to help I guess or maybe to quiet me, I'm not sure."

  "Quiet you?" his eyes jump from the paper to my face. "In what way?"

  "We were always on the society page for being at this party or that party. The Post ran a story on our impending wedding. When news broke that we weren't together, the media was asking a lot of questions."

  "So he bought your silence?" He shifts his body away from me.

  I shake my head from side-to-side. "I didn’t want to speak to anyone about what happened. I was so humiliated by it." I glance past him to the window and the bright sunshine showering his desk. "I just wanted to crawl into a hole."

  "What did he offer you?" His brow shoots up in anticipation.

  "Shares. I own part of his company," I say regretfully. "He insisted I take them. I don't have any part of the day-to-day operations. Mark has my proxy."

  He only nods his head slowly up and down. "You mean shares in his real estate company. What's the name of that again?"

  "Intersect Investments."

  He writes more before he looks at me. "How much do you own?"

  "Ten percent." I feel like I'm being interviewed for a loan. The impersonal nature of our conversation is wearing.

  "Mark owns the rest or are there other partners?" his business tone continues as he furiously takes notes.

  "There was another partner. He was an older man. I only met him once. His name was Tom." I pause, searching my memory for his last name. "Tom something. He died though and I'm not sure what happened with his shares. Mark talked about buying his estate out but then things between us fell apart and I have no idea where that went."

  He nods in silence before standing to toss the notepad onto his desk. "You're a very wealthy woman, Ivy." Finally a smile brightens his face again. "Or you're going to be."

  I arch my eyebrow in question. "How so?"

  "If you sell those shares to me, you'll be able to buy the apartment in Chelsea and live comfortably on the rest of the proceeds for a very long time."

  "I don't know how much they're worth." I stand to pace the floor. "Mark never told me and I never asked. I've forgotten about them for the most part."

  "I'll have my business advisors research it but I'd say off the cuff, your ten percent is worth more than ten million." The way the number rolls off his lips so nonchalantly is unsettling.

  "Ten million? As in dollars?" I know my mouth is half agape and I don't care. I shake my head certain that I misheard that number.

  "At least." He reaches to punch a number into his desk phone. "Probably more. I promise I'll offer you a more than fair price."

  I stand in silence as I listen to him order someone named Gilbert to his office for a meeting immediately. I reach for my bag and fumble through it again searching for my phone.

  "I have to go, Gilbert. Get here as soon as possible." The phone clicks back into its base as I thumb through my phone's address book.

  "Ivy, what are you doing?" He's behind me now, peering over my shoulder.

  "I need to tell Mark if I'm selling my shares, no?" I ask excitedly.

  "Not yet, beautiful." He pushes my phone back into my purse. "Let me talk to Gilbert first and get a sense of what we're working with and we'll draw up some contracts. Then we can discuss telling Mark." He kisses me lightly on the forehead.

  "You're giving me the chance at a new life," I whimper through building tea
rs. "How can I thank you for this?"

  "I'll come up with a way or two." He smiles right before his lips slide over mine.

  Chapter 17

  "Thanks for the ride, Leonard." I call to him as he steps back into the car after dropping me in front of my apartment. I turn to look at it, joy running through me as I realize that soon I won't have to be here anymore. I'll be free of all the difficult memories of this place and of my former life with Mark.

  "Ms. Marlow, there you are." Oliver rushes to greet me as I step into the lobby. "This arrived for you a short time ago." He hands me a rectangular box. There's no return address but the word FRAGILE is stamped in bold red letters across the front of it.

  "Thanks, Oliver." I reach to rub his shoulder gently. "How's your wife today?"

  "She's as wonderful as ever." His face beams.

  "Perfect." I walk to the bank of elevators and press the call button. I push my purse back onto my shoulder as I fumble with the package. I'm curious about its contents hoping that it's a surprise from Jax. I hear the signal that the elevator has arrived and the door opens. I step forward without taking my eyes from the package and walk straight into someone.

  "Sugar."

  I freeze and my body tenses immediately. Anger rises quickly to the surface before I even look at her.

  "Ivy, I've been waiting here for hours. We have to talk." Her voice is cracking.

  I finally lock eyes with her and she's a mess. Her hair is unkempt, her clothing hanging from her frame. She's not wearing any make-up and the redness around her eyes is a clear sign that she's been crying. I realize in that moment how vulnerable she looks. "I don't want to talk, Liz."

  "This is important." She grabs my arm forcing me to take a step back.

  "Don't touch me," I seethe.

  "Ms. Marlow." Oliver is standing beside me now. "Can I help?"

  "I'm fine." I try to sound reassuring." We're going to talk here, in the lobby, for a moment."

  "I'll be right over there." He points to the reception desk which is only a few feet from where we're standing.

  "Thank you." I move towards a bench that sits adjacent to the elevators. "Why are you here?"

  "You never answer my calls or texts." She takes a seat on the bench.

  I sigh heavily and tap my foot against the floor. "We have nothing to talk about. Nothing."

  "Jax." She blurts out. "We have to talk about him and you."

  I'm instantly agitated when I hear her mention his name. "No. You don't get to say his name. We will never discuss him or anything else for that matter." I walk to the elevators and press the call button again.

  "He has secrets. He's using you," she hisses loudly.

  I feel assaulted again, this time by her words. I'm fuming as I turn one last time to look at her. "Go to hell, Liz." With that I step into the elevator. As the doors close I cling to the package, my body shaking from the sobs.

  ***

  I step into my apartment and place my keys and purse on the foyer table with trembling hands. I hadn't expected to see Liz and her continued anger unnerves me. It was obvious that she wasn't going to allow me to be happy regardless of where things stood with her and Mark. For the first time since discovering they were lovers, I feel a sense of calm about their betrayal. I'm moving forward with my life and I have to stay focused on that.

  I slide onto the couch with the package in my lap. I reach for the corner, ripping the tape away. The lid pops open and the contents are nestled within several layers of gold tissue paper. I carefully peel away each layer until I get a glimpse of the edge of a frame. The frame. I rip the rest of the paper away as my eyes flood with tears. It's the picture of my mother and me. The frame masterfully restored. I turn it over, surveying each corner, studying where the splintered wood had been only a few days ago. It's perfect. The glass is new and the image itself is exactly as it was. I recall Jax's words about trusting him with it. He was right. I could trust him with it, and with my future.

  I reach for my phone to call him to thank him for the gift and realize I've missed a call. I excitedly check who it's from. Disappointment ripples through me at the sight of Mark's name. I need to deal with him and since I've already given Liz a small piece of my mind today, seeing Mark seems logical too.

  When I emerge from my apartment an hour later, I feel refreshed. A quick shower and a change of clothes have given me time to weigh my decision to confront Mark this afternoon. I know he'll still be at his office and if I broke the news to him about selling my shares before it was leaked through the grapevine it would make the transition easier for us both. I know I shouldn't give a second thought to his feelings regarding the transfer of my part of his business to Jax, but I don't want any lingering hostility. I need this to be over. I need Mark out of my life.

  I slip into the back of the taxi Oliver has hailed for me and I once again try and call Jax. There's no answer so I leave a brief voicemail asking him to call me back. I glance out of the window of the taxi knowing that soon I won't be in this neighborhood. I need to speak to Mrs. Adams about my decision tonight.

  I pay the driver before stepping out onto the curb. I adjust the hemline of the navy blue shift dress I'm wearing and glance down at the nude heels. I'm coming to see Mark as his business partner, not his former lover and I want to keep my composure intact. I anticipate he'll be rife with questions about who I'm selling to but he'll ultimately have to accept my decision.

  "Hi Janice." I greet the young woman sitting behind the reception desk in the lobby of the building. "Is Mark still here?"

  She grins before she picks up her phone. "Is he still in?" She's curt with the person on the other end. She covers the receiver with her hand and holds the phone a few inches away. "Do you want me to announce that you're here?"

  "No. I'll just go up." I decide that it will be easier to share my news with Mark if he doesn't have any warning about my arrival.

  She hangs up and turns to me again. "Carrie picked up Phyllis' phone." I see a not-so-subtle eye roll before she continues, "apparently she left early today so you can just go in when you get up there."

  I nod. The fact that Mark's personal assistant isn't hovering over his office is a welcome surprise. Phyllis never liked me and if I don't have to deal with her antagonistic attitude today that removes one hurdle from my path.

  I board the elevator for the swift trip up to the twenty-third floor. I can't recall the last time I stepped foot in the building but after today I won't have to be here again. That knowledge alone gives me the courage I need as the doors fly open and I step out into the lavish space that houses Mark's personal offices. Carrie, one of the human resources manager's pops her head out from around the corner. "Ivy, how lovely to see you." She gives me a comfortable hug.

  "It's so good to see you too, Carrie. How are you? Your husband? The kids?" I smile as I remember fondly all the dinners Mark and I shared with her family.

  "Good, good and good," she exclaims.

  "You're here to see him?" She crooks her finger towards Mark's office.

  "Guilty as charged," I joke.

  She hooks her arm in mine, "Allow me to lead the way."

  "It's odd to be back here," I confide in a low voice. "It's been so long since I've been to see Mark."

  "I'm a little shocked to see you now." She knocks tentatively on his slightly ajar office door. When there's no response, she pulls it open farther, peering inside. "Ah, the dictator isn't here."

  I laugh at her description of Mark. "I can wait for him, yes?"

  "Sure." She motions for me to enter the office." Let me see if I can find him." She scurries out of the door and down the hall.

  I pull my phone from my purse again hoping to see a message from Jax. There's nothing. I place my purse down on one of the leather chairs facing Mark's desk. I hear voices near the door. I turn to look but I don't see anyone so I walk to the bank of windows overlooking Central Park. I soak in the view, relishing in how beautiful the city is at this time of y
ear. My gaze follows the window's shape and my eyes come to rest on the shelf I'm standing in front of. I suddenly realize there are numerous framed pictures, some of me. I reach back for Mark's desk chair and lower myself as I scan the pictures. I settle on one of Mark and me at a gala fundraiser last year. Something in the background of the picture catches my eye. My breath stalls.

  "I can't find him anywhere." Carrie's voice startles me and I drop the framed image in my lap.

  "Ivy?" I hear her voice in the distance coming closer. "Ivy? Are you okay?"

  I feel as if I'm floating in mid-air. I can't speak. I manage to pick up the picture with my right hand. I shove it at her.

  "Oh shit," she whispers. "I can't believe he still has pictures of the two of you."

  I shake my head from side-to-side and manage to pull a deep breath from my lungs. "Carrie, I..I…" I stammer.

  "Ivy, should I get someone? Are you not feeling well?"

  "No. It's just that." I turn the framed picture so it's facing her now. "Who is that? That man in the background. The man looking at Mark and me. Do you know that man?"

  She pulls on the reading glasses that have been dangling from a delicate chain around her neck. She peers at me and then at the picture. "I know him," she says matter-of-factly. "He's gorgeous, don't you think?"

  I manage a very weak smile. "Who is he?"

  "Jax Walker," she purrs his name.

  "How do you know him?" I ask tentatively, not wanting her to realize that her answer may change the entire course of my life.

  "He's Tom Walker's son." A soft smile envelopes her lips. "Tom was Mark's partner. Jax inherited his share when Tom died. That was such a hard time for all of us. He was such a good man and…" her voice trails off into the ether as the sudden pounding in my ears drowns out everything.

  I can't hear.

  I can't think.

  I can't feel.

  I can't…

  Thank You

  Thank you for purchasing and downloading my book. I’m so happy to share this story with you and I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!