Unraveled (Jersey Girls Book 1)

by Lisa-Marie Cabrelli

  She jumped as a hand closed around her arm. It was Nick. His weight pulled her off balance as he steadied himself, and it finally occurred to her just how drunk he was. Claire hoped she never had to come to a sales kick-off again. She thought people had been kidding when they’d told her that the salespeople viewed a kick-off as a challenge to see how much company money they could drink, but after the last two days, she could see that it was true.

  “Where ya going, doll? I thought we had a date.” Nick handed her a glass of wine. She took it and pushed it securely into the sand of an ashtray outside the elevator, ruining the imprinted hotel logo in the process.

  “Nick, I think you would be better off going to bed.” Claire wriggled her arm free.

  The elevator dinged and she sped through the doors and pressed the door “close” button, hoping that Nick’s unsteadiness would give her time to escape. She had no such luck, though, and she pressed herself into the corner as he immediately came to press himself next to her.

  “Now you’re talking,” he said. “Rio is overrated, anyway. Your room or mine?”

  Nick had turned to face her and was pushing his body toward her. She pressed backward, trying to get some distance between them, and felt the elevator rail biting into her right hip. Nick breathed into her face, and she smelled more than red wine: he had been drinking whiskey, as well. Claire’s already-galloping heart sped up from fear. Nick was extremely drunk.

  She took a breath and tried to speak calmly and confidently. “Nick, if you don’t get off of me immediately, I am going to scream at the top of my lungs.” She was surprised to hear her voice shaking, but she put her hands on his chest and tried to push him away. He was stronger than her, though, and he grabbed her wrists and squeezed, pushing flat against her. Claire’s stomach turned when his erection pressed into her leg.

  Nick was hissing into her ear, “You wouldn’t be that ungrateful, would you, doll—after everything I’ve done for you? How about just one drink in my room?”

  Claire felt tears catch in her throat, but she swallowed hard and said through clenched teeth, “Nick, get off of me… now!”

  “Just one kiss, then, doll. How about that?”

  He leaned toward her face, his wet, whiskey lips heading straight for hers. She quickly wrenched her head upward and to the side and shuddered as his hot lips fell to her neck and he slurped there while giving a little groan. Claire struggled hard against him, but his drunken weight had pinned her securely in the corner. She was just starting to panic when she felt the elevator stop and saw with relief that the doors were opening. She took a deep breath to call for help while Nick, still slurping at her neck, gave another loud groan and pushed harder into her. Just then, Satish looked up as he stepped in, and Claire had just enough time to see his face turn sheet white before he pivoted and walked out of the elevator.

  The breath that Claire had taken to scream came out as a strangled sob, and she brought her knee hard up between Nick’s legs. She had the satisfaction of hearing Nick squeak as he crumpled against the wall, and she stumbled for the elevator doors. She shook off Nick’s hand as it grabbed her arm and barely made it through the doors before they closed. Nick was calling, “Claire! Come on, Claire, don’t be like that.” She ignored him, however, and lurched after Satish. She tried to call his name, but something stuck in her throat and she couldn’t get enough air.

  20

  Satish

  Satish strode away from the elevator. Did he really see what he thought he just saw? He had partial images, but he couldn’t seem to force his mind to piece together the whole picture.

  He had decided to leave early to pick up Claire, so eager to see her that he physically could not keep his body in his room. He had picked up the package and rushed out to the elevators, wanting to make the most of tonight. They couldn’t continue their relationship, but at least they could enjoy tonight. Satish had convinced himself that, when he told her his news, she would understand and they would continue to be friends. He needed her. He knew it would be different, but Claire would be the kind of person who would understand.

  Now he rushed along the luxuriously-carpeted hallway to his room. He had judged her completely wrong. He had no claims on her—even if he did feel a relationship was developing between them, they had never discussed it. Besides, whatever was developing, he was about to end, so why did he feel this way? He had no right. He tried again to focus a clear picture of the moment in his head. That vile man had been embracing her, hadn’t he? He had been feasting on her neck in a most brazen and intimate way, and she had her head thrown back in ecstasy, had she not? She had also looked devastated at being caught in the act when she’d briefly caught his eye.

  He heard footsteps behind him and was sent forward by a surge of anger so intense that he was blind with rage. How could she be that kind of woman? What kind of woman would sleep with a man like Nick Hamner? He struggled with his swipe card. He could still hear the footsteps, or maybe it was just his heart, and he wanted to get in the room before anyone spoke to him. He finally slammed the hotel room door closed, walked out onto his balcony, and closed the French doors behind him. He needed to breathe, but it was so hot on the balcony that there was no air. The waves echoed in his ears, and he blocked out all other sounds, trying to steady his breath to their rhythm. Slowly, gradually, his anger subsided and sadness consumed him.

  Satish stood on the balcony for what seemed like hours. He stared out at the distant ships on the ocean, watching them creep closer and grow, like ink stains spreading on the sky above the horizon. The street lights started to flicker on below him, and the sounds of the beach changed from laughing children to lovers’ music, pouring from radios on huge blankets with shadows entwined.

  He loved her. As the playful Rio matured into the sensual Rio, Satish came to the realization that he loved her. Would he have told her tonight? If he did tell her, would he have been hoping that she would talk him out of it? He had been so concerned with Nandita’s situation that he hadn’t considered his own. Was he so hard on his sister because he had her best interests at heart? It had started that way—he had told himself that pushing Nandita toward her obligation came from his desire to see her happy and secure. Perhaps it didn’t, though. Perhaps he was still pushing Nandita because he was afraid. If he admitted that his sister should have a choice, it meant he should have one, too.

  No, he had a duty; he had lived his life with the intention of fulfilling that duty. He would marry the girl his parents had chosen for him—and she was just a girl. She was Nandita’s best friend since childhood and the youngest daughter of his father’s intended business partner. When he returned to India to take over the business, his father-in-law would be his business partner, too.

  Besides, what difference did it make now? Claire was not the person he thought she was, and if she was not that person, he could not love her. He would remind himself of who she truly was every time a craving came into his heart for a huge belly laugh, a heated discussion, or a bouncy curl escaping from a thoughtful head bent over a pile of papers. This pain just proved that his initial advice to Nandita had been correct: you should allow your parents to choose someone who shared your values, your culture, and your principles—someone from a similar background as your own. Maybe there would be no spark, but there would be no surprises, either.

  The dim, muffled sound of a ringing phone came from inside his room behind the thick glass door. He ignored it, though—he couldn’t speak to anyone right now. No, he needed to get out of here, so he grabbed his key card and walked right past the ringing phone, out into the Rio night.

  He headed toward the dark, secret parts of the beach and the soothing sounds of the ocean, but he couldn’t get one nagging thought out of his head: he loved her. He had never loved anyone before, and just as he had no idea of how it had started, he had no idea of how to make it stop.

  21

  Claire

  Claire banged on the door as hard as she could with
her curled fist.

  “Satish!” she called again. “It’s not what you think! Please open the door.”

  She was sobbing, now. She had seen the look on his face in the elevator and knew how terrible he must have been feeling. That was the moment she realized his feelings were as strong as her own, and now they were probably smashed forever. She was also crying with disgust for what had happened in that elevator. How could she have let it get that far? Nick would say it was harmless—just a little kiss—but she felt angry, ashamed, and violated. Her leg burned where he had pressed his erection into her, and she rubbed at it forcefully. She needed a shower.

  He wasn’t going to open the door. Was he just going to leave her crying in the hallway? She turned, leaned against the polished wood, and slipped down to the floor. What would she do if he never spoke to her again? What would she do? She decided to go back to her room and call him until he picked up his phone. He must have known that what he saw wasn’t what it looked like. He must have known that she wasn’t that kind of person.

  She was trying hard to stop her sobbing as she headed back to the elevator and her room. She was afraid to run into someone from work, because she didn’t want to have to explain her misery. After she turned the corner to the elevator banks, she found Nick leaning against the wall with his arms folded, a wicked sneer on his face.

  “I get it now,” Nick said, looking suddenly and inexplicably sober. “I get it why little miss brainiac was so resistant. She thought she was too good for me—only a VP would do for her. Thought my little promotion couldn’t get you far enough up the food chain, huh? Devastated that he found out you were playing both sides of the field, aren’t you? Is that your career down the drain? I’m glad nothing happened between us, because I don’t take sloppy seconds.” Nick pushed away from the wall and pressed the elevator button. “I am going to have a hard time getting rid of you, since you’ve made such an impression on everyone, but don’t think I won’t take the first opportunity that arises. Tramp.”

  Claire lost it. She knew that now was the time to be dignified and calm—she knew she should walk past him, step onto the elevator, and forget the whole thing—but she lost it. She thought of Satish and what Nick had just done to their chances for a relationship. She thought of the many times over the last few days she had listened to him take credit for her hard work. She thought of his lips on her neck as he held her wrists in the elevator. Most of all, however, she thought about Maureen—her lovely, intelligent friend, Maureen, who this scumbag in front of her had ruined for years.

  She walked up to Nick until she was in his face, opened her mouth, and let forth a yell right from the pit of her stomach. “Asshole!” she screamed as loudly as she could, not caring who heard. Nick stepped back in surprise, but she stepped toward him again, closing the gap. She was inches from his face and spitting words like bullets. “You are a disgusting, evil, horrible, little man who will go straight to Hell! You have no right to treat people the way you do, and everyone hates you. I hope you lose this job, your wife divorces you, and you die, homeless and miserable.” Nick looked nervous and tried to step farther away, but he already had his back against the wall. Instead of making Claire feel sorry for him, his nervous expression just made her angrier. “This is for what you just did to me, but more than that, it’s for my friend Maureen.” She smacked Nick hard across the face. “I can’t believe I was afraid of you in that elevator.”

  She didn’t wait for his reaction, but turned, adrenaline pouring through her, and stormed to the stairwell. She ran up the four floors to her room, glancing over her shoulder, worried that she had judged him wrong and that he was following her.

  22

  Satish

  Satish stared into his coffee cup again, willing it to magically refill. It had been ten minutes since he had last nodded to the waitress, but she hadn’t yet arrived with another cup. Too tired and depressed to look for her, he sat and stewed over the same thoughts he had been struggling with for the last twelve hours. He had walked on the beach for hours, and when it had gotten late, ladies of the night—some who looked no older than young teens—had approached him. To avoid any more of that, he had adjourned to his balcony.

  He never ate breakfast at the hotel restaurant, but he’d needed to get out of that room—it had been suffocating him. His hot and urgent anger with Claire had dissipated. In fact, he had to thank her, really. If he had not seen her with that brute, he might have never told her about his arrangement. Although he had told himself that he was going to end it, he realized now that he had been far too in love to do it. He still was.

  If he were not in love with her, this betrayal would have never affected him this way, and he never would have learned how much it hurt to fall in love with the wrong person. He never would have learned the lesson he needed to save his sister. This changed everything. He had intended to go to India to persuade his father to let Nandita go to university to give her time to get used to the marriage arrangement, but now he knew that he would not compromise. Nandita was not safe in a love affair; he would go to India and join his father in ordering her to marry Naveen.

  It was then that he noticed the whispering in the booth next to him. “Wait a minute what did she say?” The whisper was gleeful.

  “I told you: she called me an asshole and said ‘that was for Maureen.’” Satish recognized the second voice and the hair on the back of his neck bristled: it was Nick. He froze and leaned toward the adjacent booth.

  “I don’t get it. She said calling you an asshole was from Maureen?”

  “Yeah, she did, but that’s not the point, dickweed. The point is that I’m not getting anything out of all the work I put into her. Okay, well, I didn’t put that much work in, but I did promote the bitch, didn’t I—even though I know HR is starting to look at me cross-eyed? Anyway, she doesn’t seem to understand the way this works. What kind of ungrateful slut is she? She’s sleeping with that Satish guy, who, by the way, I thought was gay. On top of that, she knows about Maureen!”

  “Dude, Maureen has been quiet for three years—she’s not going to start talking now. Besides, it was a legit relationship, wasn’t it? Consensual and all that?”

  “Consensual, until she found out I was married,” Nick chuckled, and his friend joined in. “Maureen wouldn’t say a thing. She was, and still is, too much of a wussy pushover. Claire might, though, especially since she seems to think I acted inappropriately last night, even though she was obviously asking for it.”

  Satish slammed his coffee cup on the table and the whispering stopped immediately. Claire! What had he been thinking? What had he done? That man had been assaulting her and he had run away, instead of saving her. What kind of man was he? He had to find her immediately. Satish stood from his table and headed toward the door, his long strides carrying him over the expanse of carpet and through the crowds at the breakfast buffet.

  “Excuse you!” a tall, blond woman called out as he pushed past her to the exit. He didn’t stop. Even though he would have liked to kill Nick Hamner, he didn’t stop. He had to find Claire. The rationalizations and self-persuasion of the past twelve hours flew from his mind, and the complete picture of what had happened in that elevator was clear for the first time. Claire hadn’t been afraid to see him there; she had just been afraid. He couldn’t stand that thought, or that he had walked away from her. She must have hated him right now, but he had to find her, make sure she was alright, and tell her how sorry he was.

  23

  Claire

  Claire looked at the woman at the airline counter in utter dismay. “I don’t know what you mean. I don’t have a reservation? I’m leaving this afternoon—my whole group is.” She didn’t think this trip could get any worse, but it looked as though it were about to.

  She had not been able to stand a single minute more in that hotel. After trying to call Satish in his room for an hour last night, she’d given up and called Sally.

  “You slapped him? You rock, girl! Whe
n he gets home, I am going to slap him another hundred times for you!”

  “Forget that, Sally. What about Satish? You should have seen his face.”

  “Claire, don’t be so forgiving. What kind of man would make an assumption like that without getting the facts? I think Satish owes you an apology.”

  She didn’t want an apology from Satish, though; she just wanted him. She also wanted last night to start over again. Claire knew how bad it must have looked to him, and he must have heard the gossip flying around the office every day, thanks to Nadia and the Bitch Clique. She didn’t blame him for storming off, but she wanted the whole evening back. She was in Rio, for God’s Sake, and she had never left the hotel!

  After an hour on the phone to Sally, she had tried Satish’s room, again and again, determined to get through to him. The next thing she knew, she had woken up with the phone dead in her hand. She must have been stressed and exhausted, because when she looked out the balcony doors, she’d been devastated to find that she had slept through the night.

  At that point, she’d just wanted to go home. The flight wasn’t until the early afternoon, but she’d decided to go to the airport now. She would have less chance of running into anyone, and she could hide out and wait for this nightmare of a trip to be over. That was when she’d found herself at the counter being told quite snippily that she didn’t have a reservation on the flight.