by Nikki Sloane
I missed him and his filthy mouth terribly. Part of me wished I could go back in time and take the El that day instead of the cab that had set this all in motion. I’d be blind to what Joseph was doing, but I’d be with him. Ignorance was bliss, right?
The picture from Hawaii had been shoved in the back of my closet, buried under sweaters I didn’t need because it was finally warming up outside. I couldn’t bring myself to throw the frame out or give it away.
My concussion symptoms faded and I was over them. The mood swings were bad, but the foggy memories were cruel. Sometimes I had to be reminded why Joseph wasn’t around. I was given extra time on my final exams, but I hadn’t felt I’d done well when I sat for them. Underprepared, and exhausted, and distracted. For the first time in my academic career I hoped for a B.
My last final was over by mid-morning, and I pulled out my iPad, wanting something mindless. I needed to release the tension I’d been holding inside. I’d do anything to make myself feel better, even if it was for five, sad minutes.
I wasn’t ready for it, but I should have known. I wouldn’t take his calls or see him, and blocked his email, so Joseph had been reaching out to me on Tumblr. Our feed was full of GIFs and images. Apologies. Requests to communicate. A simple graphic that said “I need you.” Five a day since I’d sent him from my hospital room.
I bawled my eyes out like a big baby. It wasn’t the release I wanted, lying fully clothed in my bed in the middle of the day, but it worked and I cried myself to sleep.
My phone rang, waking me, and it was the front desk. “I have a Payton McCreary downstairs,” the clerk said. “Would you like me to let her up?”
I didn’t know, and my pause was so long, the clerk got worried.
“Are you still there?”
I scrubbed my face, erasing the tracks of dried tears away. “Send her up, please.”
Payton stood cautiously in my doorway and it was an interesting sight, seeing her confidence flagging. “Hi. Thanks for meeting me.”
“Come in.” I motioned inside. I willed the flashes away of my night with her. I didn’t need any more reminders of the man I’d left, but I couldn’t stop myself. “You want something to drink?”
Her gaze surveyed the apartment as if looking for something and she seemed satisfied. “No, thanks. First things first, how are you? Like, physically?”
“I’m better.” I strolled to the couch and sat, and she followed my lead, sinking down onto the soft cushion. Tension appeared to have her wound tight as a spring, and it made me suspicious. “Did he send you?”
“Joseph?” She shook her head. “No. Fuck, he’d shit a brick if he knew I was here.”
I didn’t want to be rude, but it sprang from my mouth pointed. “Why are you here?”
“I need a favor, but also to make sure you have all of the information.”
My eyes burned. “There’s more?” How much worse could it get?
“Yeah.” Irritation trickled in her voice, and she made a face as she tried to squash it. “He started the blindfold club a few years ago, when he brokered a deal between me and a guy that needed to stay anonymous.” She glanced at her nails. “Pretty sure that guy’s office is in D.C. now.”
I didn’t care to hear about Payton banging some politician, but stayed quiet.
“The business grew from that, and Joseph . . . he enjoyed the power. The clientele list is like a who’s-fucking-who of Chicago’s wealthiest people. Some of them are in the legal system and the rest think they’re above it. No one cares about the legality.”
“I don’t need to know this.”
“Yes, you do. You need to understand how much he loved what he did. The club put him in position to negotiate with extremely powerful people. Nobody was getting hurt. The women who work the club are there by choice, because they love sex and money, and Joseph keeps them safe. They can walk away at any time, just like I did.”
Was I supposed to be impressed that he ran his high-class whorehouse with professionalism? “What is your point?”
“He fucking loved his club. The power and the money, and he gave it all up, for you.”
I scowled. “When I found out.”
Payton’s voice was weighted. “No. He sold it a week before your accident. He’d called me from Hawaii to put it in motion. He was going to tell you, Noemi.”
Disorienting thoughts floated in my mind like a static-filled radio. He’d sacrificed his most lucrative business for me. He’d been the one to call my father and stayed by my side, even when he knew it risked outing him.
“He lied to me.”
Payton’s blue eyes turned cloudy. “You’re going to have to trust me when I tell you that no one knows what that’s like better than I do. Yeah, he lied and it fucking sucked. He was trying to make it right.”
I threaded my fingers through my hair, not sure what to say. I hadn’t given him a chance to explain. Sensible, judgmental Noemi was in charge.
“He told you I worked as one of his girls, but did he ever mention Mr. Red?”
I shook my head.
“He was the last client I saw before Dominic. Mr. Red was a regular I had almost every week.”
I stood up too quickly and got lightheaded. The last thing I wanted was to hear about were the men who paid for sex. “I don’t—”
Payton was on her feet instantly, as if ready to catch me. I’d gotten so woozy, I swayed.
“He’s a nice guy. I was way too much for him, but that’s neither here nor there. He was sweet, and lonely because his wife wouldn’t touch him.”
“Oh, God, he was married.” Stop being so naïve. Most of them probably were.
“Mr. Red fell in love with me, hard. He wanted to leave his wife, but I didn’t feel the same. When I went to Japan, he searched for me everywhere. He wasn’t real delighted when I returned engaged to someone else.”
Her gaze turned away from me and she peered out the window, watching the afternoon sun collide with nearby buildings.
“Mr. Red ambushed Dominic at his office two weeks ago.”
I sucked in a breath. “What?”
“Dominic knew he had to be careful. Even after I left, Mr. Red is still the biggest customer at the blindfold club, and he’s powerful, too.”
The lovesick man had confronted Dominic? I envisioned the worst. “What happened?”
When her face turned back to mine, she blinked something away. Tears?
“Mr. Red wanted to see Dominic, to make sure he was a good man. Like, worthy of me. He told Dominic he’d destroy him if he broke my heart.”
“Oh.” The word stuck in my mouth.
“I’m telling you this because people can do things you don’t like, or things that seem wrong, and still be good people. If you love someone, you love them, mistakes and all.” She took an enormous breath, and her expression shifted to fear. “Now I’m going to ask you, what’s the Italian word for red?”
What?
The world came to an abrupt stop.
“Holy fuck.” I banded my arms over my stomach, trying to hold myself in one piece. Rosso.
My father had paid for sex. He’d paid Joseph. Payton hadn’t been star-struck when my father had come to my place, she’d been terrified, and . . . oh, God. I’d been the one to give him Dominic’s name.
How could my dad give me those looks of disappointment? He’d cheated on my stepmom. He’d bought prostitutes. He sure the hell wasn’t thinking of the brand, week after week when he went to the club.
“You think less of him, I’m sure,” Payton said. “Joseph refused to tell you because he wanted to protect you. He didn’t want you to see your father as . . . just a man, who was lonely and desperate. But now that you know, you still love him, right? Mistakes and all?”
It wasn’t a fair question since I was reeling from the bombshell that I should have seen coming. I was incredibly disappointed, but yes. He wasn’t just family, he’d been the most important person in my life for so long. I’d love him no ma
tter what.
When I nodded, her voice was strong. “Then you can still love Joseph. You can get past this. You’re going to need to, because now is when I ask for the favor.”
I felt weak and emotionally drained, and lowered back to sit. “What is it?”
“Joseph’s sick.”
It stung and knocked me back. My brain couldn’t interpret. “What? Sick how?”
“Sick,” she said, the word weighed. “He thinks maybe it’s just a physical reaction to losing you. He won’t go to the doctor. He’s really fucking stubborn.”
The room emptied of air. I dug my nails painfully into my thighs, needing something to hold onto. No, he couldn’t be. He’d been cancer free for twenty years.
Nothing lasts forever.
“I’ve been trying to convince him, but I’m getting fucking nowhere.” The couch shifted as she sat beside me. “Joseph doesn’t take orders from anyone.”
My eyes burned with unshed tears but I tilted my head back to drain them away. “You think he will from me?”
“I do.” Payton’s expression hinted at her concern. “He loves you. I think he’ll do anything you tell him to, even if he’s scared. And maybe he won’t listen at first, Noemi, but you still gotta try. Please?”
Of course I was upset with what he’d kept from me, and Payton was wrong in her belief that he loved me, but this trumped everything else. “Yes.”
She looked relieved.
I climbed to my shaky feet and reached for my jacket. I didn’t want to waste any time. “Will you drive me?”
Payton launched to her feet, not missing a beat. “Let’s go.”
chapter
THIRTY-ONE
I rode in Payton’s Jaguar and tried not to think about where the money to buy it had come from. We passed Joseph’s Porsche in the parking garage as she searched for a spot, and the overpriced car put flutters in my belly.
He was inside his apartment.
And he was sick. The interior of her luxury car seemed impossibly small and I couldn’t find any air to breathe. I followed slowly behind her through the garage as we made our way to the elevator, stalling. I needed to organize my thoughts.
The inside of the elevator felt worse than her Jaguar, and shrank with every floor we climbed. Sensible Noemi was angry. Just because he’s sick, doesn’t make what he did okay. Think about the brand.
The other side, the one Joseph had brought to life, was anxious to see him again. She was desperate to get another fix. My heart clogged my throat when Payton knocked on his front door.
“It’s Payton,” she said loudly.
Footsteps pounded closer and the door swung open, revealing a shirtless Joseph, unshaven and hair disheveled. I swallowed hard. His eyes were sunken and he looked tired. His angry expression was directed at her. “Give it a fucking rest, I already—”
His mouth snapped shut as his gaze found mine.
“I told her.” She announced it like it wasn’t a big deal. “I told her about Mr. Red, too. I figure you’re already pissed, and she needed to know.”
Joseph’s dark eyes went wide, and his gaze swung back to her. “What the fuck, Payton?”
Her face turned hard. “Don’t give me any shit. If the roles were reversed, you would have done exactly the same, and I told you, I don’t like lies. Stop being a pussy and go see the doctor.” Her head turned to me. “You want me to wait for you?”
“No.” It was hard not to keep looking at him. “I’ll grab a cab.”
“The fuck you will,” he snapped, probably overly sensitive about the accident. His face softened and turned apologetic. “I’ll drive you home when you want.”
My voice was hesitant. “Oh, okay.”
I didn’t like the awkwardness between us, but the lie was a wall forcing me back. A wall he’d built.
Payton gave me a nod and turned to leave.
“Wait,” Joseph said. “Thank you.”
She gave him a pleased smile. “You put me and Dominic together. Somehow you knew when you interviewed him, he was what I needed.” Her gaze on me was warm. “You and I are a lot alike, Joseph.”
She thought I was what Joseph needed? I watched her head down the hallway, and risked a glance back to him. He was still shirtless and tattooed, and the man I loved. Possibly sick.
“Come in.” He stepped back from the doorway and gave me space.
There was a blanket and his iPad on the couch, and CNN was on mute on the television. Around his coffee table were boxes of snacks, like he’d been camped out there a while. The half empty glass on the table was a bright red drink. Kool-Aid.
How long had he been sick?
“I’m sorry.” His voice was solid. “I should have told you, but . . . No, I just should have told you.”
“Yes,” I said quietly.
“I was worried once you knew, I was going to lose you.” He drew in a deep breath. “Did I?”
I couldn’t answer the direct question. “Go see the doctor, Joseph.”
His eyes narrowed at my tone. “No.”
“No? How can you say no? Are you scared about what they’ll find?” A fire built inside me that quickly flared out of control. “Because you’re going to be fine.”
He put his hands on his hips. “Oh, yeah? How do you know that?”
“Because I want you to be, and I told you, Rossos always get their way.”
A hint of a smile curled on his lips. Even tired, he was so beautiful. “I don’t have cancer.”
“That’s what I’m saying, but you need to—”
“I don’t have cancer,” he repeated, firm. “I have mono.”
What? I stared at him.
“She wore me down. I went yesterday afternoon, and the monospot test confirmed it.”
It was ironic that this word brought me joy. “Mono.” He was okay.
“My swollen lymph nodes are already gone. How are you feeling? I’ve been trying to talk to you, but communication has been pretty one-sided.”
It had been. I’d been holding a grudge, which I hated, and because of it, he’d gone through this cancer scare alone. I should have been there for him.
“I feel . . .” Awful? Like I shouldn’t have judged him without hearing his side? “I feel like I don’t have mono.”
He nodded. “The doctor said you probably don’t. It’s highly contagious, but at the same time, the stars have to align just right for someone to come down with it.” Joseph made his way incredibly close to me, and I stared up into his gorgeous eyes. “I thought I’d never see you again.”
My voice was breathless. “Yeah, well, nothing lasts forever.”
He cupped the back of my neck, which held my gaze on him, as if there was anywhere else I’d look.
“Nothing lasts forever,” he repeated, “except for the way I feel about you. I love you, Noemi. I think I’ve been in love with you since the night you insulted my car.”
I sucked in a breath, and laughed at the same moment tears welled in my eyes. “It is overpriced.”
He loved me. The words had rolled out of his filthy mouth with no trouble, with no hesitation. Payton had been absolutely right. I loved Joseph, mistakes and all.
“I love you, too,” I said. “Even if you pay too much for a ridiculous status symbol.”
His thumb brushed on my cheek as he leaned in, then froze. “I want to kiss you, but I should remind you I have mono.”
A smile broke on my face. “I don’t fucking care.”
His lips met mine, urgent and desperate. I gasped against his kiss, my body sighing with relief to have him back. He was okay. He was kissing me, and I could not get enough. Sparks showered down from his mouth pressed against mine, claiming me as his.
“Such language,” he whispered.
“You’re a terrible influence on me.”
His expression said he wasn’t sorry about that. “I won’t keep anything from you again. Do you forgive me, baby girl?”
My hands slipped into his hair, tugging
him back to me. “You know I can’t say no. You’ve got me addicted.”
“We’re both addicted, and I plan to keep it that way. Now get in my fucking bed so I can sleep with you.”
Whether he meant sex or just sleeping didn’t matter. I followed his order gladly.
FOUR MONTHS LATER
JOSEPH
This was going to be the most awkward dinner of my life.
Eight months ago I would have sold my Porsche for the opportunity to have dinner with Anthony Rosso. Now I wished he wasn’t here. His glare from across the table wordlessly repeated, “You will never be good enough for my daughter.”
Yeah, I was aware. But she loved me anyway.
Noemi had forgiven me, both my big and little mistakes. Each day we were together was another day she chose to be in defiance of her father. She shrugged off his hypocritical judgment, and it was impressive.
Rosso glanced at his phone on the tabletop, and a hint of excitement glinted in his eyes. “She’s here.”
We rose as Claudia made her way through the restaurant to the table, a bright smile on her lips. Like all the women who had worked for me, she was young and beautiful. As she planted a kiss on Rosso’s cheek, I wondered who around us at the restaurant instantly labeled her a gold-digger based on the age difference and the fact that he was the richest man in Chicago.
They’d be wrong, though. Claudia had plenty of money. Not just his, from their time together at the club, but from her day job as an attorney. She’d been a junior assistant at the corporate law firm I often used when I discovered her years ago.
“This is my daughter, Noemi,” Rosso said.
Claudia extended a hand across the table and shook Noemi’s. “Claudia. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
Noemi had a pleasant look on her face. I could tell she felt awkward, but she did a great job masking it. “Yeah, you, too.”
Rosso wouldn’t introduce me. Not because Claudia and I already knew each other, he wouldn’t do it because it would require him to acknowledge my presence, or my attachment to his daughter.
“Hey, Joseph.” Claudia’s tone was light and casual.
“Good to see you.”
She turned to Rosso. “Did you order some wine, Tony?”
