Caitlyn felt insulted as the impact of his admission settled in. He had merrily gone along for five weeks now, not once bothering to reveal the truth to her. She’d done it again, she inwardly chided. She’d trusted another man who’d betrayed her, and at that moment, she felt like the biggest fool who had ever walked the face of the earth. Without so much as another word, she turned and strode toward the lobby door.
Marcel’s attempt to catch up with Caitlyn was halted by business associates and friends who surrounded him to offer their congratulations. His only goal as he half listened to what they were saying was to reach her before she made it out the door.
He issued a number of apologies, brushing against people in the crowded hallway as he swiftly pushed forward. He wasn’t as close as he wanted to be, but it was near enough for her to hear. “Caitlyn.”
When his hand touched her shoulder, she spun and landed a punch on him. “You no-good slime ball son-of-a-bitch.”
He raked his hand across the top of his wavy black hair. “This isn’t the way I wanted you to find out.”
A group of attendees walked by, and she pursed her lips together. Once they passed, she connected with a left hook. “Well, guess what, you didn’t try hard enough.”
“Caitlyn, please—”
“Don’t.” She shook her head and took a couple of steps away from his outstretched hand. “You knew and didn’t tell me.” Pointing to the center of her chest, her voice quivered. “God, I was such a fool to trust you.” Despite glossy eyes and a rigid back, she regained her composure. Not for anything would she let him see her fall apart. “You know what? It’s not a problem. You didn’t matter to me anyway.”
He shook his head furiously. “Don’t go there, Caitlyn. We matter.”
“Well, if we matter so much, w-why didn’t you tell me?”
He didn’t answer right away, and for the first time in his life, he didn’t want to be Marcel Baptiste the philanthropist. “I didn’t want what I have to get in the way of who I am.” He moved closer to her. “Not where you’re concerned.”
“I’m not following you.”
Inching even closer, he blew out a hard breath. “When I became a philanthropist five years ago, it was under the condition I remain anonymous.”
Realizing their conversation was taking place in the middle of the lobby she turned and walked down a hallway. “Okay, let’s say I believe you. It still doesn’t explain why you didn’t tell me, especially since we’ve gotten to know each other.”
Marcel’s words lodged at the back of his throat and prevented him from doing what he’d never done with any woman: share the desires of his heart. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry.” She planted her hands at her waist and arched her brow. “I’m sorry? That’s it? That’s all you can stand here and say?” Her brow rose coolly. “What kind of game are you playing here with me, Marcel? Do you truly think you can waltz into my life, turn on your charm, flash your wealth behind the scenes and I’ll fall down at your feet? Is that it?”
“No, Caitlyn. It’s not like that at all. I admit I made a mistake.” He scanned the hallway where they stood. “Please, let’s go inside one of these rooms and talk about this. Can we do that?”
“No…we…can’t…The time for you to talk was five weeks ago.” A perfectly manicured red nail waggled in front of his face. “Look, I don’t know how you’re used to dealing with women, and I don’t plan to stay around to find out, understand?” She stepped to her left to move past him.
He quickly followed, gently grabbing her wrist. His tone was contrite. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry.”
She ignored the endearment and mimicked his baritone voice. “Talk to me, Caitlyn. You can trust me, Caitlyn.” A single tear rolled down her cheek. “Well, you know what? You can go to hell.”
He winced. Her words stung more sharply than any physical blow. “Caitlyn—”
“Don’t Caitlyn me.”
Marcel glanced down the hallway again, wanting to locate a place they could talk alone. He would’ve begged for a spot in a broom closet at the moment. “Okay. Let’s just leave here and go somewhere to talk this over. Anywhere you say. Your place, my place…anywhere.” He placed his hand on her arm and pleaded. “I want to try and make this right.”
“Well, I don’t want you to make it right.” She looked down at his hand and slowly let her gaze trail back to his face without uttering a word, silently warning that his hand and arm were perilously close to detachment.
“Caitlyn, please—”
“Didn’t you hear what I just said?”
He dropped his hand. “All right. I’ll take you home.”
“No.”
“What do you mean, no?”
She whacked the side of her head. “Oh, I forgot. You don’t understand that word, do you? Well, let me see if I can make it a little plainer for you here.” She crooked her finger, urging him closer until his face was near hers. “Go straight to hell.” She turned and walked away.
Marcel caught up with her outside near the valet station. “Caitlyn, you don’t need to take a cab. I brought you here, and I plan to take you home.”
She folded her arms across her chest and didn’t bother to look in his direction. “I prefer it this way.”
He turned her so they faced each other. “Caitlyn, I’m sorry.”
“Save it for the next sucker who comes along.”
“I’m not giving up on us.”
She ignored his comment and waved at the approaching cab. When it stopped, she reached out to open the door.
He loosely grabbed her wrist. “My woman doesn’t ride in the back of a cab.”
Although her heart melted at his declaration of ownership, Caitlyn glared back with a look as pointed as a switchblade. “Be sure to tell her that when you find her.”
“I’ve already found her.”
She shrugged, snatched her wrist free and climbed in the backseat.
He held the door open and squatted. “You know and I know we can work through this.”
“The only thing I know is that this discussion is over. I want you to take your testosterone-induced ego and leave me alone.” She grabbed the door handle and pulled, causing the door’s edge to hit his knee.
“Ouch.” He groaned and quickly moved out of the door’s path before it slammed shut. Reaching down, he rubbed at the throbbing spot. “Oh, dammit, Caitlyn!” He knew she didn’t hear his last remark because the cab had sped off into traffic, its taillights disappearing into the darkness of the night.
If Marcel could have reached his own behind, he’d have kicked it because he’d hurt her deeply, something he never meant to do. There was nothing he could figure out or say that would make a difference tonight. With the night’s cool breeze swirling around him, he silently vowed Caitlyn would come to understand he didn’t get to where he was by giving up. He was a master when it came to designing a plan, and his next one included her in his life. He wasn’t going to give up on her.
Not by a long shot.
* * *
“What in the world?”
Caitlyn entered her office Monday morning and dropped her briefcase to the floor. Her gaze roamed over the floral arrangements covering every square inch.
She made her way to her desk and discovered a single rose with a card on her chair. She opened it and read:
I’m sorry.
M.B.
“Yeah, right. You should’ve thought of that before you decided to play Robin Hood.” She sniffed the fragrant flower. Finally, she tossed it in the trashcan, plopped down hard in her chair and scooted closer to the desk.
She rubbed the aching throb at her temple. She was more frustrated with herself than she was angry with Marcel. It took a lot for her to curse, and in the past forty-eight hours, she’d invented and uttered words that didn’t exist. “He’s lost his damn fricking-ass mind,” she mumbled, kicking the trashcan.
Around ten o’clock, Marcel, dressed in a tan suit with a French-c
uff shirt adorned with solid gold cufflinks, knocked on Caitlyn’s office door and walked in without waiting for a response.
Caitlyn didn’t move. The same thunderclouds from Friday night shadowed her eyes as her heart slammed into her chest. “Do you mind explaining why all of these flowers are in my office?”
He walked over and stood on the opposite side of her desk. “It was the only way I could think to let you know how sorry I am.”
“Yeah, right.”
“After you left, I realized I should have been completely honest with you, especially after we started seeing each other.”
“My, my, that’s the first honest thing that’s come out of your mouth since I’ve known you.”
He blew out a hard breath. “Caitlyn, I’m really sorry.”
“You said that already.”
“Will you accept my apology?”
She glared at him.
“Well, will you at least try to forgive me?”
“Yes…I mean no…I mean—” She threw her hands up in the air. “Hell, right now, I’m not sure what I mean.” With her head down, she closed her eyes, and massaged the back of her neck.
Marcel rounded her desk and squatted beside her chair. “Caitlyn, if I could take back the other night, I would.” He rotated her chair so she faced him. “I never meant to hurt you” he whispered, his mouth mere inches from hers.
She turned her head away, praying he didn’t see in her eyes that she believed every word he said.
Marcel stood, bringing her with him, and placed a soft, feathery kiss at both corners of her mouth.
“Marcel…no.”
His response was low and husky. “Yes.”
“All right, you’re sorry.” She pushed on his chest. “But your apology chances nothing. Our relationship isn’t going to work.”
His brows bunched in confusion. “Why not?”
“Because of who you are.”
“Hold it right there.” A harsh frown distorted his features, and he stepped back. The button of his suit coat slipped free, and with both hands at his waist, he assumed a wide-legged stance. “Let me see if I’m understanding this. You were okay with our relationship before you knew I was a philanthropist, right?”
“That’s not—”
“No, let me finish here. Before you found out, everything seemed to be going along fine between us, right?”
She threw her hands in the air out of frustration. “But you lied to me.”
“I never lied to you, Caitlyn.”
“That’s right, you didn’t lie. You just conveniently decided to omit the truth about some things.” She sucked in a deep breath and released it. “Marcel, it’s just that—”
“Talk to me, Caitlyn!”
“Don’t you shout at me,” she warned.
Marcel raked his hand over his hair and his tone softened. “All right, I’m sorry. Come on, cat eyes, just what?” When she didn’t answer immediately, he coaxed her again in a gentle but forced tone. “Caitlyn?”
“It won’t work out.”
“Why?”
“We’re from two different worlds.”
He closed the space between them and placed both hands on her arms. “I can’t help the fact that I’ve got money. And just for the record, I’m not ashamed of it.” He paused, searching for the right words. “Money doesn’t make a person, okay? I didn’t steal, kill, or sell drugs to get it. I worked hard…damn hard…for it, and I’m not going to apologize for that.” His voice softened to a whisper. “Nor will I apologize for what I decide to do with it.” He ran his strong hands up and down her slender arms. “There’s something between us, and you know it.”
At the moment, she wasn’t buying his argument and mentally counted to ten, hoping it would keep her from going ballistic at the nerve of him thinking he could barge into her office, say a few sweet words and things would be like they were before. He had some balls.
“There can be no us because there’s no trust.” She stepped back and went to her desk to retrieve the letter she’d drafted and held it out to him.
His brows knitted together. “What’s this?”
“I can’t accept the salary or the car.”
“They come with the grant.”
“They may come with the grant.” She pointed to herself. “I don’t.” She glared at him through narrow eyes when he stared back speechless. “And don’t you dare take that grant away from my kids.”
“Trust me, I’d never do that.”
She nodded.
He took the letter, crumpled it and threw it somewhere near her desk. “We’ll get back to that in a minute.” With his focus dead on her, he closed the gap between them. “First, we need to discuss us, this thing between you and me.”
Before she could mouth a protest, he walked around her to the door, and in one swift motion closed it and turned the lock.
Caitlyn stood in the middle of her office fuming. “You can’t just come into my office and take over.”
“I’m not taking over,” he advised calmly. “I’m taking care of some serious business. There’s a difference.”
Her hands landed on her hip. “You’re the most arrogant man I’ve ever met.”
He inched closer and assumed the same position as she did. “And you’re the most stubborn woman I’ve ever wanted.”
Caitlyn broke the silence first and spoke with what little of her patience remained. “I’m going to say this once, and I’ll say it slow so that you get it the first time around.” She walked over to the door and placed her hand on the knob. “I’m not one of your pastime passions. There is no we, no us, no nothing.” Unlocking the door, she snatched it open. “Now get that through that thick skull of yours and leave.”
In two powerful strides, Marcel was in front of her. “That’s where you’re wrong, kitten. Despite what you think about me or your perception of who I am, you can’t deny there’s something between us.”
She inched up her eyebrow. “You wanna bet?”
A confident smile touched his lips. “I’ll bet every dime I’ve got on it.” He caressed her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “And the feelings between us tell me I’ll win this bet, lady, hands down.”
Without waiting for her response, he walked out.
Chapter 4
“Vic, haven’t you heard anything I’ve been telling you?” Caitlyn asked her best friend over lunch at Kincaid’s.
Vic took a bite from her celery stick and gave Caitlyn a nonchalant nod. “Yeah, I heard you.”
“Well?” Caitlyn coaxed.
Vic slung her auburn dreads over her shoulders and shrugged. “Well, what?”
“Come on, Vic. Whose side are you on?”
A soft curve touched the corner of Vic’s lips. “Based on what you’ve just told me? Marcel’s.”
Caitlyn’s mouth dropped. “What?”
She’d been miserable for two weeks, ever since Marcel walked out of her office. Her concentration had flat lined two seconds after he’d left, and since then, Caitlyn had felt like a member of the walking dead. She was more frustrated now than she was angry because her heart was overruling every objection her mind could think of to remain mad at Marcel. Her heart said to trust him. She’d called Vic and hoped lunch and some one-on-one girl time would lift her out of her funk. Never in a million years had she expected Vic to take Marcel’s side, and suddenly she was right back at square one. She was mad as hell.
Vic chuckled and chomped on her celery stick. “Close your mouth. It’s summer and a fly might land in there.”
“But, Vic—”
“Look, you asked the question, not me.”
“But—”
“Caitlyn, you owe the man an apology. Plain and simple.”
Stunned, Caitlyn stared at her best friend. “How do you figure?”
Vic wiggled her broad hips in her seat until she found a comfortable spot. With both elbows on the table, she laced her hands in front of her. “Let me see if I’ve got this right. You’r
e mad at him because he didn’t tell you he was a philanthropist, right?”
“Right.”
“Went postal on the brother when you found out, right?”
Caitlyn nodded.
“Can’t…or won’t…can’t figure out which, accept the man’s apology after he admitted he made a mistake, right?”
Caitlyn stared off in the distance.
“Did I get it all, sweetie?”
“Vic—”
“Nope, not finished yet. Let me ask you this. Did you tell him everything you’ve gone through for the last three years?”
Caitlyn lowered her head and shook it from side to side.
“Why not?”
Caitlyn’s head snapped up. “Because that’s not something you tell a person when you’re just getting to know them!”
Vic slapped the table. “Bingo.” She grasped Caitlyn’s hand. “Sweetie, not every man is like that no-good bastard, Cole.”
Caitlyn stared down at their hands. “Vic, I’m scared. I’m just at the point where I’m getting my life back on track—”
“Sssh. Listen, I know what you’re going to say. It’s been almost three years since you’ve heard from him, right?”
“Right.”
“All right then. Stop trying to analyze everything and figure out where all the pieces will fit. Sometimes you have to step out on nothing but faith. At some point, you’ve got to learn how to trust again. Understand what I’m saying?” Vic pushed the tray of appetizers to the side. “You really like him, don’t you?”
“Vic, I swear I’ve never felt this way about any man in my life.”
“That boy got you dripping like a faucet between the legs, huh?”
Caitlyn looked mortified. “Vic.”
“Child, please” Vic waved a silencing hand in front of her. “Girl, we’ve been through too much together to get prim and proper now.” With a sly wink, she asked again, “Well, does he?”
Caitlyn appeared chagrined. “Yes. Satisfied now?”
Vic smiled. “It’s not about me. It’s about you, and I say go for what you know.”
“He’s so arrogant and makes me so mad, I can’t see straight at times.”
When I’m With You (Indigo) Page 5
