Descended (The Red Blindfold Book 3)

by Rose Devereux

My throat was tight with the tears I refused to cry. “I don’t want to cause a publicity disaster for you. People saw me walking into that motel room. They’ve probably described me to the police.”

  As excuses poured from my mouth, I knew it was crazy. I was putting off the inevitable, choosing a short-term fairy tale over reality.

  Drex gripped my hands in his. “I understand your worry, but it doesn’t change anything. I told the doctor I’d go to the police. I should have done it two days ago.”

  My resistance flared as if he were trying to drag me off a mountain. “Wait a little longer,” I said. “Until I’m ready for what might come next.”

  “Jane…”

  “Whatever you want me to do, I’ll do it. Just give me time.”

  He sighed. Everything I wanted was against his better judgment, and mine, too. But I wasn’t ready to be thrown back into the world. Not yet.

  “Please,” I said, hating that he was making me beg.

  “We can’t avoid this forever,” he said firmly. “You know that.”

  Though I tried to stop it, a hot tear fell over my cheek. “I’m not asking for forever. I’m asking for now.”

  Jane asked for now, and that’s what I gave her.

  Not because I was a pushover, but because I wanted it, too. Oh, hell, I wanted more than now. I wanted to keep her locked up in my apartment forever, a willing, erection-inducing slave.

  I waited until she was completely well before I went back to the office. I walked into headquarters on a Wednesday morning to open stares from the women in junior positions and internships. Young as they were, they should have known better than to gawk at the boss, even if he had just taken vacation for the first time in two years.

  I could hardly blame them, though. After all, I was the city’s most eligible workaholic, if those words made sense together. I had a high-profile ex and a job I loved like a wife, but that didn’t keep women from thinking I was trappable.

  I knew what they saw when I entered a room: the perfect sperm donor. Happily-ever-after, a closet full of expensive shoes, and babies, babies, babies.

  That’s what Brooke saw, even now, three years after we’d broken up and two years after we’d last slept together.

  As soon as she spotted me, she came barreling out of her office, a sun-drenched corner suite so neat and organized it gave me the creeps. Nobody but a surgeon could work in an environment that sterile.

  “You’re back,” she said with a tinge of annoyance. “Finally.”

  “Yup. I am.” I went into my office hoping she’d stop at the door, but she followed me inside like a hungry cat.

  “I expected you to call this week and give me an update,” she said. “Things have been really hectic with these openings coming up, my assistant’s out sick, and my father wants to talk to you about --”

  I raised a palm. “Brooke, slow down. I didn’t call you personally, but I’ve been in touch with the office every day. That’s why I have employees – so I don’t have to be here every minute. As for your father, he can pick up the phone anytime.”

  Her eyes shot sparks. “He’s very busy.”

  “That makes two of us,” I said. “Actually, it should make three. Don’t you have location scouting to do today?” How many times had we had a conversation like this? Fifty, at least?

  “I sent Stef and Thomas out to do it.”

  “Why didn’t you go?”

  She raised her chin. “I delegated.”

  “Uh huh,” I said. If it weren’t for the agreement I’d made with Scott, she’d have just delegated herself out of a job.

  I picked up my phone and dialed into voicemail. Brooke crossed her arms and loomed over my desk. Tall, underfed, and dressed all in black, she looked nothing like the born-and-raised Southern girl she was.

  “You’re still coming tonight, aren’t you?” she asked.

  “To…?” I held up a finger. You have one-hundred eleven messages. Shit. This was what I got for going blissfully domestic for a couple of days.

  She put her hands on her narrow hips. “To my father’s birthday dinner. You forgot?”

  Oh, shit. Hell, yes, I forgot. I didn’t even remember getting an invitation. “What time do I need to be there?” I asked, putting down the phone.

  “We, Drex.”

  “Uh, we?”

  “You have to have a date,” she said. “You can’t show up alone.”

  “Why not?”

  “The seating is already arranged and we can’t have an empty chair.”

  “An empty chair,” I muttered. “God forbid.”

  “Now, I’m bringing someone as you know.”

  She threw her head back and gave me a triumphant smile. Yeah, I knew the guy, all right. Dustin Roy, a metrosexual former-model-turned-idle-hipster who had a wealthy family and a beard so shiny it blinded me whenever I saw him. This was the dude Brooke hoped would prod me into a jealous rage so severe I’d demand that she marry me immediately. On the spot. In my office, before Dustin showed up and dragged her away by her hair.

  Brooke’s nails glinted like dark purple daggers. “If you don’t have a date it won’t look good,” she said, “and I doubt you’ll find somebody respectable before tonight. Dustin will be disappointed if I cancel, but…” Hope sprang anew in her face.

  “I have a date,” I said distractedly, shuffling through a pile of rental contracts. I glanced up to see her eyes narrowing into slits.

  “No, you don’t,” she said. “I know everybody in this town. If you had a date I’d have heard about it.”

  “She doesn’t live in Houston.”

  “Where does she live?”

  “Nowhere.”

  She frowned and gave me a bright red pout. “Evasive much? People don’t just come from nowhere.”

  “You’d be surprised what’s possible in this world, Brooke.”

  “Is this a joke?”

  “If only. Look, I have a lot to catch up on. Let’s talk about this later.” Yeah, later. As in never.

  “You’re just going to brush me off?”

  I set both palms flat on my desk and took a deep breath. “No. I’m going to return about a thousand important phone calls. Then I’m going to work my ass off for the rest of the day, and so are you. Tonight, we’ll go to your father’s birthday party and have a great time. Sound fair?”

  She glared at me. “Perfectly.” With a huff, she turned on her outrageously high heel and stalked out.

  “Shut the door –” I said, but she was already gone.

  Spinning my chair around, I stared out at the Houston skyline. What did they say about hiring friends or family? And why hadn’t I said a flat no when Scott made his investment and his daughter a package deal?

  It didn’t matter now. I’d make the best of it, and make the best of tonight. The only way I was going to enjoy Scott’s birthday dinner was if Jane was with me.

  All those voicemails could wait. I had something more pressing to take care of.

  I picked up my phone and dialed. Jane answered on the second ring.

  “You sound like you’re feeling better,” I said.

  “I told you I feel fine,” she said. “Like, ten times.”

  “Going a little stir crazy?”

  She laughed. “I’ve only been cooped up in a gorgeous penthouse for five straight days with almost no fresh air or human contact, besides you, of course. Why would I be going stir crazy?”

  “It sounds like you’re ready to enjoy yourself a little.”

  “I’m more than ready, I’m desperate. I’m about to start making friends with the plants.”

  “Well, you’re in luck because we’re going to a black-tie dinner tonight.”

  “We are?” I could hear the surprise and excitement in her voice.

  “Damn right. So take off that old Guns N’ Roses t-shirt and get in the shower. My assistant will be there in an hour to take you shopping.”

  Drex’s assistant, Ruby, was a curvy, big-haired blonde in her mi
d-twenties with a sugary Texas drawl. When I answered the door she gave me a dazzling smile and a long, rib-crushing hug.

  “Ready to spend someone else’s money?” she asked. “I know I am.”

  I smiled back. This was definitely my kind of girl.

  Downstairs in front of the building, a black Town Car and driver waited to whisk us away. It was bliss to raise my face to the sun and feel healthy and strong for the first time in days.

  As soon as we got into the limo, Ruby pulled out two long-stemmed glasses and handed one to me. “What’s this for?” I asked.

  “What do you think? Mr. Cougan said you weren’t feeling well a few days ago and you need to have fun. And champagne right after lunch is my idea of fun.”

  “Mine, too.” At least, I thought it was. This could very well be my first time drinking before happy hour.

  “He told me you’ve been having some problems with your memory, too,” she said. “Must have been quite a flu.”

  Good old Drex. He knew how to say just enough without giving everything away. “It was, but I’m better now and ready to shop.”

  “Great. I’ve got our day all planned out,” Ruby said as she popped an icy bottle of bubbly rosé. “We’ll start at Stile, which is my favorite store ever, anywhere. If we don’t score there, we’ll go to Lotus on 9th and then to the mall. And I’ve got lots of other ideas if all else fails. But all else won’t fail. When I go shopping, it never does.”

  “It sounds like you know your way around a clothing store,” I said, holding out my glass.

  She poured with the confidence of a sommelier. “Um, that’s putting it mildly.”

  The car pulled smoothly into traffic. I sipped my frosty champagne and enjoyed the contrast of my faded jeans and Boho-style top with the limo’s elegant interior. I didn’t know if I’d ever had a fashion sense, so I was glad Drex had sent Ruby to beat some into me.

  Somehow, he’d known exactly what I needed today. Of course I’d had fun shopping with him in Chimayo, but this was a different kind of fun, the sort of luxurious girl’s day out I hadn’t had in…who knew how long? It felt like forever, and it probably had been.

  Stile was a tiny and very expensive boutique tucked away on a downtown street lined with designer stores and high-end restaurants. Ruby walked in with authority, as if she’d personally stocked every shelf and expected to find what she was looking for.

  “In another life I was a stylist,” she said, whipping through little black dresses and slinky cocktail gowns. “Mr. Cougan puts me in charge of everything fashion-related. Whenever we need uniforms or have a publicity event, he comes to me. I’m glad he does, or who knows what the floor staff would be wearing. My taste is classy but with a sexy edge.”

  “I can do classy and sexy,” I said.

  “That’s what Mr. Cougan said, too.”

  Two sales assistants hovered around her, whisking items off to a dressing room and rushing to the back for different sizes. “What are you, a size zero?” Ruby asked, tilting her head. “And I bet you eat all day long.”

  “I do like to eat,” I said. “A lot.”

  She gave me a pretty mock scowl. “So does Mr. Cougan. No wonder he fell for you.”

  I swallowed hard. “How do you know he fell for me?”

  I could tell by her smile that she never missed a trick. “I’ve worked for him for two years, and I know him. I heard it in his voice when he called me. I believe the word is smitten.”

  “Smitten?” I was not allowed to blush right now. I could get all flustered later, in private.

  Ruby flashed her perfect teeth. “Hey, if the word fits…”

  I stood up straight as she held a dress to my shoulders. She raised her eyebrows and squinted before returning it to the rack. “How do you like working for Mr. Cougan?” I asked, savoring the sexy feel of his last name on my tongue.

  “He’s a great boss,” she said, pursing her lips at a sheer sleeveless top. “He’s demanding and impatient and he works too hard, but he makes up for it by being very cool.”

  “And very easy on the eyes,” I said.

  She laughed, a high-pitched Southern giggle that made me laugh, too. “We all think it but we don’t dare say it out loud. Brooke would flip if she heard us talk that way.”

  “Brooke,” I said, trying to sound casual. “His ex-girlfriend?”

  “Yeah,” Ruby said.

  “What’s she like?”

  She glanced away. “She’s okay.”

  “Okay?” Come on, Ruby. Give me more.

  “Well, if you really want to know –” Ruby stopped herself. “I shouldn’t. Mr. Cougan has a zero tolerance policy for gossip. Not that we were going to gossip, because we’re so not like that.”

  “Damn right, we’re not,” I said, trying not to smile.

  “But you don’t work for him and we’re not at the office, so…”

  “Not to mention we’ve been drinking champagne.”

  “Right,” she said, her big brown eyes widening. “My judgment’s impaired, so anything I say cannot be used against me in a performance evaluation.”

  “Especially if no one knows about it,” I said.

  She cocked her head. “You look like you can keep a secret.”

  “Are you kidding?” I pretended to seal my lips with my fingers. “I’d sooner die than spill the beans.”

  “In that case, I’ll tell you everything.”

  But as soon as she started, I wished I’d never asked.

  Brooke was rich, beautiful, and well-born, and she was Drex’s first real girlfriend. She was also Houston’s biggest socialite. I almost didn’t care if she passed her work on to subordinates all the time, or if Drex hadn’t dated her in two years. She’d had him the way I hadn’t, and never would.

  They’d shared an apartment together. She got to see him every day, and her father’s investment guaranteed that she wasn’t leaving the company anytime soon.

  Not to mention that she could remember before last Thursday. I was downright queasy with envy.

  “She has a boyfriend now,” Ruby said, “this gorgeous guy who used to be a model. But everybody knows she still loves Mr. Cougan. You can see it in her face.”

  If Ruby could see it in Brooke’s, she could see it in mine. Which meant that Drex could, too. He probably thought I didn’t want to go to the police because I was too infatuated and didn’t want to leave him. And wasn’t it the truth?

  If it weren’t for Drex, I’d have gone to the police a week ago. I’d have bucked up and told them everything, and if I was arrested for stopping a man from raping me, so be it.

  But Drex gave me the perfect excuse to put it off, as long as I was living the life of my dreams. While my real life waited for me to wake the hell up and rejoin reality.

  Soon, I promised myself as Ruby led me toward the dressing room. Just a few more days of total, irresponsible happiness.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  For almost an hour, I slithered in and out of silk, satin, and lace.

  I tried on backless tops and sequined skirts and lush chiffon dresses that cascaded to the floor in a waterfall of pastels. Ruby shook her teased head and quirked her lips, setting things aside on the “maybe” rack until I stepped out in the second to last dress. It was long, slinky, and sleeveless, and covered with hundreds of tiny black sequins. I had to admit, it fit like it was custom-made.

  She gasped and put her hand to her chest. “That’s the one,” she breathed.

  “You think so?” I asked, turning around slowly.

  “Wow. Absolutely. I’ll be damned – we didn’t even have to go to the mall.”

  Shoes were next, and Ruby was just as picky about her heels. “It’s like playing dress-up when I was little, except you’re not my six year-old neighbor and you can carry anything off,” she said.

  We debated between a pair of strappy blue suede stilettos and black leather slingbacks with pointy toes. After I’d walked back and forth in front of Ruby and half the salesgir
ls three times in each pair of shoes, we settled on the stilettos. They added an unexpected pop of color, and I had to agree with Ruby – they were the sexiest heels in the store.

  “Thank you so much,” I said as she handed the cashier Drex’s credit card.

  She nudged me. “I got to go shopping in the middle of a workday. I should be thanking you.”

  “Drex owes you a bonus. If it weren’t for you, I’d still be in the dressing room tearing my hair out.”

  “Instead you’ll be the belle of the ball,” she said. “And if Brooke hates you, oh well.” She slung the bag handles over her arms and walked out ahead of me to the waiting car.

  “Next stop, mani/pedi,” she said, waving away the driver’s offer of help and putting the bags in the trunk herself. “Then jewelry and makeup. Mr. Cougan said we should buy whatever you want, even if it’s not for tonight.”

  I thought of everything he’d bought me in Chimayo. It wasn’t high fashion, but I didn’t care. It mattered more than anything expensive ever could.

  “That was nice of him,” I said, “but I’m good with what I’ve got.”

  Ruby shut the trunk and gave me a confused stare. “You could buy out the mall if you wanted to. Like, this afternoon. You realize that, don’t you?”

  I laughed. “A gown and stilettos are enough for today.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Wow,” she said, slowly shaking her head. “When Mr. Cougan said you weren’t a typical Southern girl, he wasn’t kidding.”

  When I came home at five-thirty, Jane skipped down the hall wearing nothing but one of my old t-shirts and threw her arms around me. She smelled of shampoo and rose-petal perfume, such a feminine combination of scents that I was instantly hard for her.

  “Well, hello to you, too,” she said, feeling my erection against her stomach.

  “What can I say?” I said. “I haven’t seen you since this morning. Not to mention you’re reprising your outfit from The Dead End, but without the panties.”

  “Except then I hadn’t taken a bath.”

  I slid my hands down her ribs and over the curve of her waist. My blood was roaring already and I hadn’t even loosened my tie. “Dirty or clean, you arouse me either way,” I said.