Carol turns me so that I’m staring into her long floor mirror. “You don’t look like one, but you’re definitely the fly,” she says, whacking my ass.
“How was work?” I need to keep Nicholas off my mind.
Nicholas drives us from Carol’s apartment on Park Avenue down to Lincoln Center Plaza. On our way there, we take a road that runs through Central Park peppered with snow. I spot several horse-drawn carriages pulling up on the side. Each one is decorated with Christmas lights fastened to the edges, giving their carriage a fairytale feel. I’ve always wanted to take a ride in one.
“Have you been on a horse-drawn carriage before?” Nicholas asks, as he catches me staring out the window.
“No, not yet.”
“They’re a novelty to visitors. You can’t go to New York and not take a ride in one. I’ll take you on one sometime.”
Nicholas’s words catch me off guard. I don’t say anything, but I can’t help but question the motive behind his words. What could I say other than why bother? Nicholas doesn’t owe me anything, but here he is making plans with me. I promised Carol I would enjoy tonight, but it’s hard to when I’m already thinking this is a mistake.
Paparazzi stalk the outside of the Lit For Kids donor appreciation event. They snap a flurry of pictures as Nicholas and I step out of his car. A valet attendant takes the keys to Nicholas’s car and hands him a return slip. Nicholas grabs my hand and leads me through the front of the Wilkes Library.
The library is a majestic display of architecture. It’s like staring at a building straight out of a gothic novel. It’s strange to see a building like this in the middle of New York, but it’s beautiful. There’s even gargoyles protruding from the topside of the building. Each one appears carefully carved with exact details.
There’s a noticeable shift in Nicholas’s attitude as we make our way through the center of the library that’s been transformed into a banquet hall. His once confident attitude is now replaced by a more somber one. I watch from the corner of my eye as an older woman wearing a white dress suit approaches us.
“Hello, Nick, how are you?” she says, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.
“Katherine, it’s lovely to see you again,” he says with a small smile. “Rebecca, this is Katherine Brown, the Executive Director of Lit For Kids.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Katherine says, shaking my hand eagerly. “Are you Nicholas’ fiancée?”
“His assistant,” I say, smiling.
“Ah, you’re the one my secretary spoke with?”
“Yes, that’s me.”
“I should be thanking you for Nicholas being here. He never comes to our events.”
“Oh, well, thank you for having us.”
“I apologize, Katherine. I’ve been so busy with –” Nicholas stops mid-sentence and for a moment I swear I hear a break in his voice. Nicholas squeezes the bridge of his nose as if warding off a headache. “My father has several new developments and we’ve just been swamped,” he finishes, his voice barely above a restrained whisper.
Katherine does something completely unexpected. She steps forward and wraps Nicholas in an embrace, hugging him tightly. The almost mother-like display of affection knocks the wind out of me. I stand there feeling awkward and yet privileged to see such a strange but vulnerable moment.
“Your brother was a wonderful man, Nick. We’re grateful for your generous contributions. I understand why you haven’t come, but I’m glad Rebecca changed your mind about tonight,” she says, smiling at me over his shoulder.
As Katherine releases Nicholas from her embrace she whispers something in his ear and then makes her way toward another guest. Nicholas stands completely immobile, frozen by some imaginary force.
“Nicholas?” I call.
It takes a few moments for my voice to register across his face. He slowly turns toward me, as if he’s forgotten I was standing only a few feet away.
“Rebecca?” he asks with a look of confusion.
“Are you okay?” He looks down at my hand placed on his arm. I pull my hand away, conscious that to him it might look like something else. Nicholas looks up and stares toward the back room, as if searching for someone or something. His eyes stop on the bar at the back of the banquet room.
“No, but I will be,” he says with a look of determination. Nicholas grazes past me and heads toward the bar. In a few short seconds, he returns with a short bottle of whiskey and a glass.
“You’re not drinking that whole thing, are you?” I ask shocked.
“Watch me, Gellar,” he says, opening the bottle.
Nicholas is a grown man. He doesn’t need me to babysit him, yet here I am, watching him consume massive amounts of alcohol. We make our way to our dining table, which to my dismay, is toward the front of the room. Perfect. So if Nicholas makes an ass of himself, everyone has a perfect view. He seats himself mere inches from my chair and tugs on my hand, pulling me to sit next to him. Seriously, it’s like he’s five. Why the hell is he acting so strange? I remember seeing pictures of Nicholas’s sister in his office and a few of whom I assume were his brother. I pull out my phone and open up my Google app. I’m sure I can find information about Nicholas’s brother online.
“Rebecca?” I look up to find Nicholas watching me. Pain seeps through his hardened expression.
“Sorry, I was just checking my texts.” I say, sliding my phone back into my purse. He sits there silently watching me squirm beneath his gaze. “I think I need some air.” After a few torturous moments I excuse myself from the guests around our table and head toward the outside balcony.
The balcony is lit up with lights stringing down from the roof of the library. The light cascades down, washing me in warmth. Despite the snow stopping, the night air still nips at my cheeks with each passing breeze. It doesn’t seem longer than a few seconds before Nicholas joins me outside. He stands beside me staring out into the darkness. He pulls the bottle from earlier out of his pocket and takes another sip of the whiskey from the nearly empty container. I’m not sure what kind of tolerance he has, but this is getting crazy.
“Nicholas, slow down,” I say, grabbing the bottle from him. “We can’t get home when you’re drunk off your ass.”
“You can drive,” he says, handing me the valet slip.
“I’ve never driven in New York.” Nicholas stares at me, like I haven’t spoken. “I would get us lost.” I stare openly at him as he looks down at the bottle in my hand.
“Nicholas, if everyone sees you leaving the party intoxicated, the paparazzi will have a field day.” His face is lost in thought. I’m not even sure if he understands the severity of the situation. “They’re like ravenous wolves down there waiting to devour the next unfortunate soul that walks out. They know you’re here.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Nicholas says, gripping the ledge of the balcony.
“What? Are you insane?”
“I’ll give them something to talk about,” he says, grabbing the bottle from my hands and tossing it over the edge.
“Nicholas!” I call, as he turns to leave. He doesn’t stop until I wedge myself between him and the door to the entrance of the banquet room. He stares down at me in confusion.
“Gellar, get out of my way.”
“No.” I press my body against his.
“What are you doing?” he asks, oblivious. Despite his questioning gaze I can feel his erection growing against me. I grind my hips into his and he groans.
“I’m stopping you from ruining both of our lives,” I whisper.
I’m not sure if it’s the heat of moment, or the idea of losing everything, or maybe just the strange liberating need to do it, but I pull Nicholas by the shirt and kiss him. The shock of the situation is evident in his frozen stature. I run my tongue across his lips and instantly he melts into the kiss, grabbing me in a haze of lust. He pushes my dress up and lifts me, turning to place me on the cold icy ledge. Nicholas’s lips muffle my scream. I grab his sh
irt using it to pull myself forward. My anxiety of heights is in full effect. “I promise I won’t let go,” he says, holding onto my waist. My ass is freezing.
“You’re drunk, Nick.”
He stops, looking up at me. “That’s the first time you’ve called me Nick.”
I shiver as his eyes search mine.
“I won’t take my hands off you,” he says, parting my legs open. My heart squeezes at the promise behind his words. He places his hand on my inner thigh sliding it up between the slits of my dress. Nicholas doesn’t stop. He doesn’t ask if it’s okay. He just takes. His hand slows for a moment, as he carefully pushes aside my panties. We shouldn’t be doing this.
I push his hand away, but he entwines our fingers and moves them up to the entrance of my folds. I bite back a moan as he slips two fingers inside me and pulls them back out. He repeats this motion over and over, more vigorously each time. My skin suddenly feels way too warm and the outside is way too quiet – even for New York. I pant as he stretches me ever so slightly, giving him a deeper angle inside me. Each time I squirm, he squeezes my clit as if commanding me to hold still.
“Nicholas, stop,” I beg.
“Do you really want me to stop?” he asks, leaning in.
“Fuck,” I whisper.
“I love the little faces you make when you’re about to come.”
Nicholas’s words send me over the edge. I grip the wall behind me as a delicious orgasm washes over me. My pussy convulses as warm liquid seeps between my legs. Nicholas retracts his hand and unapologetically slips one in his mouth. He sucks my wetness off them like he’s finishing off dessert.
“That’s never happening again.” I say, trying to still my erratic breathing.
“You don’t have to lie to me.” What have I done? This was so stupid.
He looks down at me with a sadness that hurts my insides. I can’t quite grasp his mood tonight. One moment he’s angry and the next he has this broken look. There’s something wrong and I can’t fix it, but I want to. I honestly wish I could.
“Kiss me, Rebecca.” A tear escapes, running down his cheek as he stares back at me with a pleading look.
“Nicholas, what’s wrong?”
“I need you.” His words are a broken whisper.
I hear them coming out from his lips but my brain fails to register them as something that’s real. “What?”
The world is spinning. And the only thing I can focus on is the concern etched in each beautiful curve of her face. She steps toward and grasps my hand. Tonight is a disaster. Why did I come here? Why? It’s just another painful reminder of the pain I’ve pushed far back into my mind. I pinch the bridge of my nose, sensing another headache coming on. My whole body is shaking.
“Nick, is this about your brother?” she asks, squeezing my shoulder.
Her voice sounds so sweet, but her words send my stomach turning. I stumble toward the balcony ledge and lean over. I can feel something pushing up at the back of my throat. Her cool hands brush the back of my neck as I expel my dinner. She doesn’t step back in disgust or even flinch. When I’m done, she pulls my handkerchief and wipes the sweat off my face.
“I’ll be right back.”
Rebecca disappears, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I take in large gulps of air as I gather myself together. No matter how hard I try I can’t block the painful memories flooding my mind. It’s only been a few minutes since Rebecca left but it feels like an eternity. When she returns she’s holding the keys to my car in her hand. I’m a bit surprised to see her holding them. She must’ve gone downstairs to the valet.
“Are you ready to go home?” she asks, looking at me.
“Yes, but what about the paparazzi?”
“You’re lucky, they’re taking photos right now of some of the kids that have benefited from your donations. We’ll slip out the back,” she says with a tight-lipped smile.
“Thank you, Rebecca.”
“You’re welcome,” she says with a sigh.
I wake to my head exploding, or rather the feeling of it exploding within my skull. The room around me is dark, but familiar. I feel my way through the darkness and flip the switch on the lamp beside me. This is my room. I recognize the Tuscan colored walls as the light fills up the room around me. My body feels warm. I must have a fever. I look down to find myself still wearing my black tuxedo. What the fuck happened?
“How are you feeling, sweetie?”
My eyes focus on a dark shape sitting at the edge of the bed. My vision is still too blurry to make out the familiar voice.
“Rebecca?”
“No, it’s Alison.”
Fuck. What is she doing here? I groan as my stomach rumbles, still angry from the abuse it had suffered through.
“Where’s Rebecca? She was with me at the event.”
“Just lie back down. You got food poisoning,” Alison says, unbuttoning my shirt. I push her hands away and sit up. Bad idea. I grab her shoulders as my head swims from rising too fast. Food poisoning? That must be the lie Rebecca told Alison.
“I need to make sure she got home okay.” I push back the covers on my bed and stare at the floor trying to focus my vision. Please stop spinning.
“I’m sure she’s home by now,” Alison says, annoyed. “I was here when you guys got here.” We? How does she know where I live?
“Did I say anything?” I ask, clutching my stomach
“No, you were out of it. Why didn’t you answer any of my calls last night?”
“What are you talking about?” I ask. I think I’m going to barf.
“I called you about twenty times. Your assistant answered your phone and said you weren’t feeling well.”
I remember arriving at the Lit For Kids event, but I sure as hell don’t remember leaving. Flashes of last night run through my head. I remember Rebecca… oh God, I kissed her. I remember the taste of her lips on mine. The taste of her on my fingers. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
The following day Nicholas doesn’t show up at the office. When nine rolls around, I start to get the feeling I won’t be seeing him at all. Big surprise. I’m mean, I shouldn’t be surprised, right? I’ve heard Nicholas comes on to his assistants all the time. The memory of his whiskey-stained lips is still fresh in my mind. I want to forget the flavor, but each time I run my tongue across my bottom lip I taste him.
A pang of guilt hits me. Hearing Alison’s voice on his cellphone the other night caught me completely off guard. I wasn’t thinking when I picked up his line, but after twenty missed calls, I figured it had to be an emergency. Alison didn’t seem happy to hear another woman answer his cell. In fact, I spent five minutes trying to explain to her exactly who I was and what the hell I was doing with her fiancé. That was super awkward.
Even the drive to Nicholas’s apartment was difficult; it took me half an hour longer to find his place. I think I passed it about three times before I realized it was only a few feet away from us. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised to see that he lives in what looked like a mansion made of limestone. Black cast iron gates and rows of green trimmed hedges surround it. It’s not like any apartment I had ever been to, but that’s exactly what he called it. I was genuinely surprised when I didn’t see a butler waiting for him at the door. The inside of his place is mostly empty. It felt and looked seemingly abandoned.
Carol was waiting for me when I finally got home this morning at about a quarter to two. It was like high school prom night all over again, except she was playing the role of the concerned parent instead of my mother. She didn’t expect me to come home so late, but she definitely wanted the dirty details of what went on. I told her about Nicholas’s strange attitude after his acceptance speech, his drunken stupor, and the heated moment between us. She was happy to hear the play by play as she hung on to each juicy detail.
The other night wasn’t what I expected when Nicholas told me I was coming to the Lit For Kids event with him. I don’t understand why he needed me to go, but for the first ti
me, I experienced a side to him I couldn’t imagine existed. He was vulnerable. A drastic contrast from the cocky exterior he projects around the office. I didn’t tell Carol this, but he got to me. The way he practically begged me to kiss him did something to me.
By lunchtime, I’m starting to feel restless. I can’t concentrate on anything, and every time I look at the clock, it’s only gone up a minute or so. Time couldn’t move any slower than it is right now. I really need to get the hell out of the office. I didn’t want to obsess over last night, but every time someone walks near my cubicle, I can’t help but hope it’s him. I guess I should be happy I haven’t heard anything, but his silence has actually annoyed me. I mean, how hard is it to send me a quick email? I hate this unwanted feeling of disappointment in the pit of my stomach. It’s like I’m in grade school again, waiting for my crush to arrive at school.
Maybe a nice walk would help. The outside streets below still look wet from the overnight rain, but despite the hovering grey clouds, it isn’t actually raining anymore. I should text Carol and see if she’s free. Like usual, Carol responds within a few seconds. She should just glue her phone to her hand, because she’s on it constantly.
Carol: I’m in a meeting. It should be over in five. Meet me at Romero’s New York Pizzeria.
Me: Sounds good. Pizza sounds ah-mazing.
She texts me the address and I pull it up on MapQuest. To my surprise, the pizzeria is only a few minutes from the office. Perfect. Just as I’m about to grab my bag and leave, Ken’s voice grabs my attention
“Hey, where are you headed off to?”
I haven’t had much time to hang out with Ken, but he’s been really helpful with answering any question I have related to our work area. Twice I think I’ve gotten a paper jam in the mail sealer, and he’s been gracious enough to show me how to take it apart so I can pull my crumpled envelopes out.
“I’m actually on my way to lunch with your cousin. Do you want to join us?”
“Man, I’d love to, but I’m expecting a call.”
Bound to You: Volume 2 Page 4
