Thoroughly Whipped

by Cole, Tillie

  “This way.” Sage led us into the foyer of the stand, and I groaned as the air conditioning caressed my face. New York summers were one humid, unrelenting bitch.

  A host led us to the box owned by Sage’s law firm. We were handed glasses of champagne and shown to our seats. The boxes were lined up side by side, the partitions low enough to see the neighboring party but high enough for privacy.

  “Let’s bet, bitches!” Novah said, just as the door to the box beside us opened. I was busy reading through the names of the horses. “Ha!” Novah said. “I’ve found your horse, Faith.” She pointed to the page about the next race.

  “Why, yes, that will do!” I said and we clinked glasses.

  I’d never heard such a fabulous name for a horse as Kinky Whip in all my life. “Let’s go and place the bets.” Novah took my hand. The smile suddenly slipped from her face, and the color faded from her cheeks.“Nove?” I asked.

  Amelia hissed out a “Oh, fuck” behind me.

  Feeling my stomach clench with dread before I’d even moved, I turned my head, only to have my heart shatter. King Sinclair was taking his seat in the box beside us. Nicholas was there too, along with two other men I didn’t know. But what had my friends worried was the sight of Harry taking his seat, and beside him, a tall, leggy blond.

  “Lady Louisa Samson,” Sage whispered, his tone sounding like the entrance soundtrack of the villain on a movie score. Harry seemed stiff, like the uptight man I’d met years ago. The arrogant duke-to-be who didn’t tolerate people who were lesser than he was. But when Louisa whispered in his ear and laid her hand on his chest, right over his pocket square, I lost it. I friggin’ lost it when those pale-pink painted talons brushed over his silver handkerchief.

  “Hold my purse,” I said to Novah, passing her my clutch. I started unthreading my earrings from my ears. “I’m gonna kill the fucker,” I said, kicking off my heels and readying to pole vault the partition to show the English rose how we throw down in Hell’s Kitchen.

  Sage’s arms wrapped around my waist when I took a step back to make my running leap. I kicked my legs, anger sending a red mist over my vision.

  “Let me go, Sage. Let me go!” Our commotion must have alerted the royal booth beside us to something happening, as Louisa looked up from whispering in Harry’s ear and frowned at my laser beams boring straight into her. Her hoity lips tightened, and I was about to go full-blown Hulk-Smash on her noble ass. She nudged her head our way. Harry’s jaw clenched, and with what looked like tired eyes, he saw what had captured her attention. I froze the second he saw I was there. His lips parted and he jumped to his feet.

  “Harry?” Louisa asked in her perfect English voice. She peered at me around his legs. “Do you know her?”

  “Yeah, he fu—” Sage’s hand covered my mouth, smothering my words. I tried to bite his palm to get him off me. Novah rushed to the door and opened it, and Sage began pulling me through.

  “So sorry,” Amelia said as Sage and Novah ushered me into the hallway and toward the bar. “I hope you enjoy your day.”

  Traitor! I wanted to shout at my best friend.

  “Amelia, wait,” I heard Harry’s voice say, then nothing as Sage pulled me out of earshot. We arrived in the bar raising only a few eyebrows.

  Sage deposited me on a barstool, and he and Novah created a human shield around me. “Faith, I get it. What we saw looks shady as hell. But this is my workplace’s box. Don’t make a scene. I’m begging you.”

  I was out of breath, but at Sage’s plea my anger faded, the red mist descended from my eyes, and all that was left in the aftermath was a sharp pain in my chest.

  Clearly seeing I’d lost all my fight, Novah tapped the bar. “Double vodka. And keep them coming.” The bartender handed me the double shot and I swallowed it just as Amelia approached the bar, quickly followed by Nicholas. Sage jumped up from slouching at the bar.

  “Nicholas,” he said, flirtation thickening his voice.

  “Sage,” Nicholas said, sounding just as sweet. Then Nicholas looked at me. “Faith, it’s not what you think.”

  “Isn’t it?” I said, getting another double vodka and knocking that back. As that filled my stomach and the subsequent warmth flushed through my veins, I wondered when I’d ever been so mad.

  “Tell me,” I said and got to my feet. I wobbled in my heels, but Nicholas was there to catch me. “Ha!” I said, snorting out a laugh. “Just like your cousin. Chivalrous to a T. Do they teach you that at school, how to save damsels in distress?” I pushed my hair out of my face and stood up straight. “So, how wasn’t it what it looked like? Because to me it appears like Harry is having his crumpet and eating it too.”

  “No, I swear he’s not.” Nicholas held out his hand. “Please, just come with me.”

  “And where are we going?”

  “To see Harry.”

  “In the box?” I said, finally feeling like this had been a mistake. He wanted to see me in front of his father and his bit of English crumpet.

  But Nicholas winced. “Not in the box, Faith. He’s waiting for you down there, and just wants to explain some things to you.”

  “Hear him out,” Amelia said. She came closer to me. “He looked so upset, Faith, when you left the box—”

  “Dragged,” I interrupted. “I was dragged from the box.”

  “Hear him out,” Amelia said sternly, like a strict Kindergarten teacher, making me shut the hell up.

  “Yes, ma’am,” I said and followed Nicholas down the hallway, taking a right and stopping at a door. He tapped on it, and even in my more-than-tipsy state, I saw it read “Janitor’s Closet.” The door opened, and I saw Harry inside, pacing the small white tile floor.

  Grabbing my hand, Harry pulled me inside and crushed me to his chest. “It’s not what you think,” he said, and I momentarily let myself breathe in his scent and feel his heart beating fast in his chest. Just that morning he’d been fucking me against his living room wall. And now we were in the closet, hiding from his father, no doubt.

  I pushed myself away from all his cut and buff Harryness, which only fried my brain if I got too close. “Good choice for meeting with your dirty little secret.” With a wave of my hand, I indicated the cleaning supplies around us. I leaned against a mop who, from this angle, looked frighteningly like an ex of mine. “So?” I said, my voice glacial. “Have you been with her this entire time?”

  Harry’s cheeks went red, and anger flared in his baby blues. “Don’t be ridiculous, Faith. Of course I haven’t.”

  “It would be convenient, though. Her in the UK, me in New York. A girl in every port, so they say. That’s what your kind are like, aren’t they? Married, with a million mistresses on the side?”

  Harry looked like I’d slapped him. It sent an arrow of regret deep into my heart. But I was too pissed, too tipsy, and far too stubborn to take it back.

  “My kind?” he said. I saw the hurt in his expression and knew I had stepped over the mark. “I didn’t realize I had a kind, Faith.”

  “The blue bloods.” I waved my hand. “The aristocracy. Don’t lie to my face and say that isn’t what this is about.” I pointed at the door. “That you brought your noble girlfriend here today because that’s what your daddy wants of you.” I took a step toward him. “He doesn’t want you with me, Harry. Have you not figured that out by now?”

  “Of course I have!” he shouted and gripped the back of his head. I knew that King didn’t want us together, of course. But hearing it from Harry’s mouth was like taking a bat to the gut. “He will never approve of us, Faith. But I was trying. I was trying to work out how to make him see how I feel for you.”

  Harry dropped his hands and stared at me, and I wanted to crash into him and kiss him until we forgot all of this. “I know I can get through to him. But then he orchestrated this behind my back, and I’m fucking livid.” I reared back, surprised at Harry cussing. It was as rare as a blue moon. “I had no idea they were coming. Nicholas had just flown in
on business, and he got the invite at the same time I did. I had no heads-up. Went to breakfast to meet my father, and Louisa was there. He told her I had asked for her to come.”

  “Then why not walk out and tell him where to go?”

  “Because he’s all I have!” Harry shouted, and he immediately sounded out of breath. My heart twisted as those words left his mouth.

  “Harry…”

  “I don’t have a doting family like you, Faith. I don’t have a mum anymore who can take my side and tell me I’m not wrong for wanting you. I have no siblings. I have Nicholas, but he’s always busy like I am…” Harry slumped against the wall. “I have my dad and that’s it. My grandparents are dead and Nicholas’s parents live in France. All I have is him. I have to get through to him. But I can’t do that with Louisa here, and the CFO and CCO of HCS Media. And you can ridicule me all you want for being too English about it, but I won’t air our dirty laundry in public.”

  My bottom lip trembled at how defeated he looked as his shoulders dropped. “I know you probably hate her, but Louisa isn’t a bad person, Faith. She’s a pawn. She’s being used by my father, and her parents are no better than he is. She’s as trapped in this as I am. So please, don’t fight her.”

  “I wasn’t going to,” I lied. I damn well lied through my teeth.

  Harry’s lips twitched. “Then why was Novah holding your purse and why had your earrings been removed?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “Have you been drinking?”

  “Yes. Copiously. Have you?” he challenged, those friggin’ irresistible baby blues igniting with happiness again. If he was telling the truth, he certainly handled his liquor better than I did.

  “Not at all. I’m stone cold sober.” God, wanting to make an example of me and the little liar I was, chose that moment to give me hiccups. I quickly covered my mouth. Harry huffed a laugh, and I edged toward him warily, not sure if he wanted me close. When I stopped a few inches away, Harry opened his arms and I fell against him. I wrapped my arms around his waist. “I didn’t like her touching you,” I whispered.

  “I didn’t either,” he confessed and kissed my head. I closed my eyes, his hypnotic breathing calming my frazzled nerves. “Every time there was an obvious innuendo to something someone said around me, I was waiting for the inappropriate punchline, but none came.”

  Harry guided me away from his chest and cupped my face. It was my absolute favorite thing he did to me, and I was sure I’d be happy if he always held me this way. It would make work and other daily activities tricky, but I was willing to give it a good old college try.

  “Faith Parisi, no one is you, and that is all it comes down to for me.” Before I could crack a joke, Harry kissed my mouth sweetly, turning my legs to Jell-O, and all the jokes I could muster were forgotten. When we broke away, he said, “Nothing has or will ever happen between Louisa and me. My father leaves tomorrow night. I will speak to him tomorrow. You have to trust me.”

  “I will…I do,” I said and saw something that resembled happiness, then guilt, flash across Harry’s face. But when I looked again, he was the same old handsome Harry as always, and I blamed it on the alcohol. “I might go home. I can only imagine the hangover I will have in the morning.”

  A knock sounded on the door again. “That’s Nicholas,” Harry said. “Let me play the clown in my father’s circus today. But know that I’m trying for us always.” He brought our joined hands to his mouth and kissed them.

  “Okay.” With one last long kiss, Harry moved to the door. He stepped outside, and I followed. I heard the sound of Harry’s voice in the hallway.

  When I rounded the corner, Louisa was there. She looked at me. Harry held his head high. “Louisa, this is Faith Parisi. She works at one of our New York publications.”

  “Oh,” Louisa said, seemingly in relief, as though it explained why Harry had come after me. She held out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Faith. I adore your hair.”

  I saw Harry fighting a smile, knowing I would never be able to bitch slap someone who’d complimented my hair. I’m joking, of course I would. But she seemed sweet, and if Harry was telling the truth, she was as unwillingly tangled in this King-manufactured web as he was.

  “Nice to meet you too.” I looked behind me, feeling awkward. “I’m going to go to the bathroom. I’ve had a bit too much of the vodka.”

  “Have a good day, Faith,” Louisa said, and Harry walked away with her. He glanced back over his shoulder and gave me a reassuring smile.

  Deciding I really did need the bathroom, I headed down the hallway only to stop short when King Sinclair rounded the corner. I narrowly avoided bumping into him which, given my inebriated condition, was a miracle.

  “Oh, hello, Miss Parisi,” he said, clearly as uncomfortable about our meeting as I was.

  “Mr. Sinclair.”

  King looked over my shoulder. When I followed suit, I saw Harry and Louisa disappearing back into the box. “They look good together, don’t they?” he said, pulling my attention back to him. I didn’t say anything. I knew he knew about Harry and me. I was well aware there was nothing positive to say right now.

  “Harry has always known how his life would go, Miss Parisi. Certain expectations come with the territory when you are born into the nobility and will inherit a title. You must behave in a particular way, be educated through certain channels, and marry well.”

  He checked the buttons on his suit. “Louisa is from a good family and has known Harry all his life. We always knew it would be a good match, her parents and I. In marriage.”

  I felt my heart begin to shred, layer by agonizing layer. I wanted to open my mouth and rip this prick a new asshole with my venomous tongue, but something kept me rooted to the spot; something kept me silent, stealing my courage. “Harry is twenty-eight now. He will take over all of HCS Media soon, and then he will marry.”

  Stepping around me, King stopped right by my side. “You seem like a good girl, Faith. And I genuinely hold no animosity toward you, but what you have with Harry can lead nowhere. You are from two very different worlds, worlds that will inevitably collide, and not in a good way. I want him to be happy, and I know what’s best for him. That will not be you.”

  He waited for me to say something, but I was mute and, mortifyingly, my eyes were filling with tears. “Good day, Miss Parisi. I really do wish you well.” With that, King Sinclair walked back to his fancy box with his son and his betrothed.

  I know what’s best for him. That will not be you.

  Turning on my heel, I rushed into the bathroom and wiped my eyes. I dug deep within myself to find my outrage, to find my spark, but it had gone out. I thought back to Harry and me. I thought of his posh English accent compared to my thick New York twang. How he fit in like a hand in a glove at the charity ball, and I smashed into a champagne fountain with the grace of an ox. I compared his spacious penthouse to my converted brownstone apartment in Brooklyn. His ancestral home to my parents’ in Hell’s Kitchen. I didn’t want to face the truth, but King was right. We were from two very different worlds. Louisa had been born for that kind of life.

  Wiping my tears, I left the bathroom, only to find my friends waiting for me. Amelia saw my red face and held me in her arms. “I say we take this party home, what do you think?” I nodded, safe with my best friends. I felt Novah holding my hand and Sage’s hand on my back. They didn’t let me go, and in the apartment, we ate junk food and sprawled out on the couch watching Drag Race. It took all I had to convince Amelia that she didn’t need to stay with me overnight.

  “He loves you, you know?” she said in my doorway. My heart kicked into a sprint. “I get I’m no love expert and, frankly, am terrible at dating, but he loves you. I can see it in the way he looks at you.”

  “How’s that?” I whispered, lump in my throat.

  “Adoringly,” Amelia said and sighed. “He just adores everything about you. What else could you ask for?” Amelia
closed the door and I lay on my bed.

  I listened to the rain begin to pour outside, the heavy summer drops bouncing on the fire escape just outside my window. I closed my eyes, but I rolled them open a while later, hearing the sound of someone trying to open my window. A flash of fear cut through me, just as the window slid open. But when a dapper, suited man climbed through, that fear was replaced with a heart so full I thought it might explode.

  Harry closed the window then stood at the end of my bed, hair soaking wet and dripping to the floor. Without saying a word, he stripped out of his clothes and climbed on the bed. He gathered me in his arms and held me close. I wasn’t sure he would ever let go.

  Safe in his arms, his body heat lulling me to sleep, I closed my eyes, cheek to his chest. Just as slumber began to pull me under, Harry whispered, “Faith? I need to tell you something. Something about who I am.” I thought I heard trepidation, maybe fear, in his tone, but my drowsiness felt too good to resist after the long day we’d had.

  “Another time,” I said sleepily, my arm tightening around his waist. Harry’s hand stroked though my hair, taking away the last of my fight to stay awake.

  “Okay,” he said, and I went under, weirdly dreaming Harry added, “I just hope you understand.” He sighed. “I just hope you don’t hate me.”

  When I awoke the next day, there was a note on my pillow.

  Gone to meet my dad. Didn’t want to wake you.

  I will see you tomorrow,

  Yours, and only yours,

  Harry x

  Gripping the note, which faintly smelled of his cologne, I pulled it to my chest and fell back to sleep, a contented smile on my lips.

  Chapter Seventeen

  I shook out my hands and took a deep, steadying breath. I pressed the button for the top floor. The elevator doors opened and, thankfully, I was the only one inside.

  Sally had called for me. I had no idea if she liked my article or not, but in minutes, I would find out if I was actually going to have a feature published in Visage magazine. I remembered Papa, at Sunday dinner, saying one day and prayed that my one day had finally arrived.