by Jani Kay
5.45 P.M: I guess you meant it and it’s over.
Tears welled up, and I swallowed hard to stop the avalanche sitting in the back of my throat. If I gave in to self-pity now, I’d cry for days on end.
*****
Twenty minutes later, I hopped into the back of another taxi and gave the cabbie the name and address of the place I was meeting Jake.
“You’re one of the lucky ones, miss. I heard you have to book months in advance to get in and only the chosen few get to have dinner there.”
I’d trade places with him any time. He could look at the false smile that Jake plastered on his face, or listen to the overly modulated words that came out of his mouth, or have his nostrils assaulted by the heavy-handed use of my date’s cologne.
Damn, I’d pay the cabbie to trade places with me.
Instead, I paid him his fare as well as a handsome tip. It wasn’t his fault that I had the fear of impending doom sitting in the pit of my stomach.
As soon as I got inside, someone was there to greet me and show me to my table. It was on the upper level in the most exclusive area, right next to a window with stunning views over the Hudson River.
Although I was exactly on time, my host hadn’t arrived yet. Not that I was surprised, because I was certain Jake spent more time in front of a mirror than I did. Not to mention his perfectly styled hair, that unless he had a personal stylist and used a shitload of styling products, would be difficult to maintain.
I took the opportunity to look around at the other tables. Besides the few celebrities I spotted, most tables were occupied by couples who were either holding hands, staring into one another’s eyes, or openly flirting.
Goddammit. Couldn’t I just have an evening without being reminded of the pain that had anchored itself in my chest?
Taking small sips of water from the oversized glass in front of me, I studied the couples one by one, trying to guess who were on a first date and who I thought had the best sexual chemistry. How many of these people had told one another ‘I love you’? Three precious words most women yearned to hear.
Watching them I couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to have a normal relationship. No hiding. No secret meetings. No angst about getting caught out. I guessed I’d never find out.
My pity party was interrupted by the maître d' making his way toward my table with Jake in tow. He made quite an entrance, smiling at everyone, sometimes stopping to give someone a hug or exchange a few words.
“You should be in Hollywood,” I said in a frosty tone as he reached our table and leaned down to kiss my cheek.
He ignored my statement. “I’m sorry I’m late.”
Liar.
With a lot of pomp and very little flair, Jake ordered a three-hundred-dollar bottle of champagne. If he was trying to impress me, he could’ve saved himself the trouble. Not only had I been to the region of France where the exclusive sparkling wine was produced, I’d actually been a guest at the winery and been treated to a tour, and of course as many tastings as I could handle.
“So,” I said testily as soon as the waiter departed from our table, “what do you want to tell me that you couldn’t say over the phone?”
“Relax, Monty, and enjoy the evening. The night is still young, so let’s not rush this, okay?”
Monty? Where the hell had that come from?
I grimaced and gave him a dirty look. “Um, my name is Montana.”
“I know, Miss Marx. Has anyone told you that you’re gorgeous when your nostrils flare and your eyes shoot daggers?”
I shrugged and took a sip of the bubbly liquid.
Every now and then I imagined Jake’s accent sounding quite British, which was weird for an all-American guy. The reason I recognized the foreign accent was that I’d been at school with a girl who’d come from England with her family and whenever I’d visited her house, I’d loved listening to her parents and siblings talk. They’d sounded so posh—a word her mother liked using often—especially to a girl who’d only ever heard a Southern accent.
Jacqueline herself had been quite strange. She’d smoked, hadn’t shaved her armpits, and changed her accent immediately to sound American, denouncing her birth country openly. She’d been quite masculine in her dress code, favoring men’s brogue shoes above all others because she’d claimed they were more comfortable. I’d heard whispers about her liking girls more than boys, but I’d just figured people didn’t understand her because she was so different from what they were used to.
Our friendship hadn’t lasted long, and I’d stopped going to their house. I’d never told anyone why we weren’t friends anymore because soon after my world came crashing down and we’d moved to a neighboring town where I attended a different school.
Jake snapped his fingers in front of my face. “Hey you. Seems I lost you there for a few moments. You haven’t heard I word I said, have you?”
“Oh, sorry, I’m just exhausted, I didn’t mean to be rude. What were you saying?” I straightened my back and gave Jake a small smile. This ‘date’ was torture, and I just wanted to go home already. Jake was taking me back to places I didn’t want to go. How strange that I’d not had flashbacks for more than a year and now they plagued me at the most unexpected times.
“Never mind. I was blabbering on about the south of France. I’m going there on my next vacation, rubbing shoulders with the rich and famous in Nice, and I’ll be on the red carpet at the Cannes Film Festival.”
“Oh, that’s lovely for you,” I said, with as much enthusiasm as I could muster.
“I’m a little obsessed with France. I’ve taken French language and cooking lessons, and I love their music, too.”
“Really? I had a friend at school who collected anything she could about the French. Her whole bedroom was filled with pictures of Paris, and her idol was Coco Chanel.” I didn’t know why I shared that with Jake; maybe because I was at a total loss about making small talk with this self-absorbed man.
“I’m impressed you remember that much detail about a school friend. Did you like her?”
I shrugged. “Yeah. I didn’t know her that well, but she was different to anyone else. We had to move away to another town, and we did keep in touch for a while, but then I lost track of her.”
I hated where this conversation was going. Soon Jake would be asking more probing questions. I quickly changed it so the focus was back on him.
Being a good listener was my best skill, and one I’d learned early in life—people loved talking about themselves and if given half a chance, most would tell you their life story. “So tell me more about your French obsession.”
Jake didn’t disappoint. Throughout the entire first course he talked about his cooking skills. Funny—I’d never pegged him for a domesticated kind of guy. I’d imagined that he was far too fashion-conscious and precious to ever get his hands dirty in the kitchen.
“You’ve got that faraway look again,” he scolded after a few minutes.
I shifted in my chair. “Have I? You’re so good at describing the food that it’s made me hungry. Shall we order mains?” Frankly, I wanted to get the evening over with so I could go home and lick my wounds alone in my own bed.
Jake called the waiter over. “Mind if I order for both of us?” he asked, a self-righteous grin on his face.
“Go ahead.” If that made him happy, I was more than okay to let him take over. Anything he ordered would be expensive as hell and top shelf, so he couldn’t go wrong.
After placing our order, he leaned forward and took hold of my hand, turning it over. He ran his index finger down my palm and then met my eyes.
His voice was smooth as silk. “I see a very handsome blond man in your future. He wants to date you and I think he’s a little bit in love with you.”
I took my hand back. “He hardly knows me, so how can he possibly be in love with me?”
Jake went red in the face. “He just does,” he said testily. “Are you turning him down, Montana?”
<
br /> “Jake, it’s just weird talking about you in the third person. I’m not turning you down; I’m just stating a fact. Anyway, you already know my policy on dating since we’ve been through this before.”
“So you’re only interested in your fuck buddy then? What happens when you’re old and he doesn’t want you any longer because he found someone younger?”
I flinched. “What are you talking about?”
He smacked his lips together and smirked. “I know your dirty little secret, Montana. Wasn’t too hard to piece together either. You’re fucking Levi Sinclair Barrington the Third.”
Heat rose to my chest and face. I swallowed hard to prevent a gasp from escaping my lips. How the hell was I getting out of this one?
I eyed Jake over the rim of my glass as I took a large sip of my drink. “Jake—”
Jake held up a finger. “Don’t insult me trying to deny it, Montana. I have pictures. I know about the loft, too.”
I shrugged. “So why are you telling me this? Clearly you have an agenda, so let’s get it out on the table.”
“I’d be a lot more worried if I were you. You stand the risk of losing your cushy job and never working in the industry again if this comes out. Everyone would assume you’ve leaked company secrets to your competitor. Industrial espionage is heavily frowned upon.” He had a satisfied grin on his face, as if he derived pleasure from what could be my demise. “In fact, I can’t believe a smart girl like you would be so stupid as to fuck the enemy. And oh my, that sex swing, that’s just priceless.”
“What do you want, Jake?” I gritted out.
Jake sat back in his chair and stared at me. “I want you, Montana. Always have.”
I shook my head. “But why? I don’t get it. We’re . . . we’re so different. And I’m not attracted to you like that, anyway.”
Jake laughed but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Just kick a man in the balls then. What does fucking Levi have that I don’t, other than billions in the bank? I never figured you for a gold-digger, Montana, or maybe I’m wrong, considering the way you grew up.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Jake, I’m warning you,” I hissed, my back stiff and my shoulders squared. “Don’t fuck with me. I have my own money, and I don’t need any man’s fortune. Who I see is my business and nobody else’s. And my childhood? You’d never understand, so let it go.”
He threw back his head and laughed in my face. “My sassy Monty is back. I like that. Turns me on like fuck . . . in fact, I’m hard for you right now, babe.”
I lifted my napkin from my lap, folded it neatly, and placed it on the table. I glared at Jake so that he had no doubt about how I felt.
“Save it. I’m not your babe, and I never will be. Leave me the fuck alone, Jake. I’m not interested in a relationship of any kind with you. I’m going to call a taxi and go home and forget this evening ever happened. I suggest you do the same.”
He snatched my hand in his, squeezing the bejesus out of it. “You’re going to be sorry about this, Monty. Very sorry. Nobody says no to Jake Monroe.”
I jerked my hand away and pushed to my feet. “Well, I just did. Deal with it.”
Condescending prick. Who the hell did he think he was?
A small voice in the back of my head answered. He’s the man who could turn your life upside-down. Ruin everything you’ve worked so hard for.
I was royally screwed, but I wasn’t letting Jake know. The fucking irony was that I’d ended it with Levi, but to the press and the business world that was a moot point. They would crucify me. All my hopes and dreams would come crashing down around my perfectly constructed world.
So Jake knew about me and Levi. How much, if anything, did he know about my past?
Chapter 20 – Montana
Most of the night I’d tossed and turned so much that my hair was a knotted mess when I got up. I was tempted to stay in bed all day with the covers pulled over my head—all I wanted was to roll into the fetal position and go back to sleep.
I stretched my arms and legs and yawned. How was I going to face the day ahead?
Caffeine.
Caffeine always had been the answer when it wasn’t the right time for something stronger. I stumbled to the kitchen and switched on the coffee machine. A cup or two of an extra-strength brew and maybe I’d be okay to face the world.
Pointing the remote toward the TV, I clicked my way through the channels. Ads and more ads. Grimacing, I was just about to flick the television off when I sucked in a sharp breath.
Oh. My. God.
What the fuck was that?
A picture— larger than life—of myself and Levi. Front and center. Unmistakable. It had to have been taken with a telescopic lens, because I could count the damn freckles on my nose—that was how close-up it was. Levi’s lips were on mine, his hand on my ass. Then another and yet another snapshot.
My stomach turned.
I didn’t even have to guess who was responsible for that. Jake’s face flashed across the screen next.
I could have reached into the television and slapped the smirk from his face. Bastard.
Jake’s voice was upbeat and chirpy. Breaking news. Ha! The words scandal, industrial espionage, and traitor were thrown around, as well as sexual liaison, affair, and secret rendezvous. Of course Jake made a meal of it, licking his lips as he brought his scoop to light.
With trembling hands, I set my coffee cup down and jolted to the bathroom. The contents of my stomach emptied into the toilet bowl and a cold sweat broke out on my skin.
Had Levi seen this? And the Drake men?
Seconds later my phone went off. I switched it to vibrate only and sat on the edge of the bath with my shoulders slumped and my head hanging. My insides still heaved, although there wasn’t anything more to chuck up.
One of my worst nightmares had become reality. Montana Marx had been found out. She was a fraud, posing as a successful career woman when in fact she was nothing other than damaged goods. Goods nobody wanted.
Now the whole world knew about me and Levi. Our secret was out and all hell was going to break lose.
I’d just been trumped by Jake Monroe. Why did it matter so much to him? Why was he fixated on me? I couldn’t fathom my rotten luck. Of all the women in the country, Jake had decided he wanted me. It didn’t make sense before and it still wasn’t then.
I pushed my hair aside and rinsed my mouth. I hated the sour taste that was still there, so I brushed my teeth and gargled with mouthwash too in order to get rid of it.
Nothing could have prepared me for this. I’d believed Jake was bluffing. Turned out, I’d underestimated the man. Badly.
Yet the strangest thing was happening. I felt worse for Levi than for myself. He’d have to face his family about that and I already knew his father and grandfather’s reputations. They didn’t play favorites. If one of their own messed up, they were treated like any other employee who’d screwed them over.
Should I call Levi? Find out if he’s okay?
A part of me was dying to hear his voice and feel his protective arms around me. He’d hush me and rub my back and tell me it was all going to be okay. Wasn’t that what fuck buddies did?
Then I reminded myself that it was over.
I’d not heard from Levi since those text messages. Which could only mean one thing. He agreed that we were done. Hell, he’d probably moved on already, because it was easy enough. There was a bevy of beauties he knew socially who’d be available at the snap of his fingers.
My phone buzzed, and I picked it up with my heart hammering against my ribs.
Levi?
It was Red. Disappointment washed through me as I answered the call.
“Monty, what the fuck? I swear it wasn’t me who leaked anything. I’d never be that low—you know that, right?” She didn’t even draw a breath, and her voice was high-pitched and panicked.
“If you’re still the same girl I knew back in school, I believe you.”
She let out a hard
breath. “Phew. For a few moments I freaked the fuck out. I’d hate for you to think I had something to do with it.”
I sighed. “To be honest, I haven’t even had time to think about where Jake got his information from.” A few seconds of silence fell between us. I tried to keep my voice even when I spoke again. “I broke it off with Levi.”
“You did? Oh, honey, why? He’s so madly in love with you. A blind man could see that.”
Her words sent me reeling. She knew before I did? How could I not have seen it coming?
“The two of you are the perfect match. You had a keeper there, Monty. I don’t understand your decision, because I could sense the insane chemistry between the two of you.”
I laughed but there was no joy in it. “Yeah, that’s why we were fuck buddies. Sexual chemistry. But that’s all it was.”
Why are you lying to your friend and to yourself, Montana?
“Look, I’m sure you have your reasons, although I think you’re bat-shit crazy to let a man like Levi off the hook. But back to those pics on TV and all over social media. Do you realize they were taken the night of your birthday when I was there?”
I sat up straight. “Really? How do you know this?”
“Because I’m fucking smart, that’s how.” She laughed. “Just kidding. Because I know how you’d fastened your hair, and the pretty hairclip is just visible in most of the pictures. You might have taken your clothes off, but at least you kept the hairclip in.”
“Of course. Levi had sent me that earlier in the day as one of my many birthday gifts. It’s diamonds and rubies, and I love it. He never took it out of my hair either when we were fu—um, you know what I mean.”
“I remember thinking how sensational you looked in your red dress, and with only a hairclip to accessorize. I would’ve blinged up from head to toe, but you were always the classy one.” The complement from Red didn’t make me feel any better.
“Ha ha. I learned that less is more by default. There never was money for more.”
“I know, honey. But look at you now. You’ve done so well; you can be proud of your achievements.”
I sucked in a breath, held it for a few beats, and then let it out slowly. “All of that will be gone by lunchtime. Jake Monroe has just pulled the rug from under me. I’m ruined. I’ll be fired from my job and tarnished forever as a corporate spy and slut. You know how the press will make a meal of this, especially if Jake is driving it and ensuring my demise.”
