SWEET SURRENDER (Sweet Jealousy, Episode Two)
Copyright 2013, Morgan Garrity. All rights reserved. No part of this ebook may be transmitted or copied without written consent of the author.
SWEET SURRENDER
Addison took in a deep breath and stared at the woman in front of her. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t … I mean, there must be some kind of mistake.”
“Oh,” Belle said, nodding like she understood what had happened. She picked up a stack of mail that was sitting on the table and began going through it. “Nathan must not have told you about me yet. Did you just meet him?”
Addison suddenly became aware of the fact that she was wearing just a thin robe.
She pulled it around herself, feeling cold and exposed. She reached up and touched her hair. It was still slightly damp from the shower she’d last night, and she could feel it curling into messy ringlets around her face. She swallowed hard and raised her chin.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “But I have no idea who you are.”
Belle rolled her eyes and then slid a piece of mail into her bag. She threw the rest of the envelopes back onto the table. “That’s Nathan for you,” she said. “Always leaving me to explain the arrangement.”
She shook her head, like having to explain what was going on was a huge offense.
And then Belle walked into the kitchen, leaving Addison standing there in the hallway, alone.
Addison took a deep breath and tried to stop her stomach from churning. What was she supposed to do now? From the kitchen came the sounds of Belle rustling around, probably making coffee or breakfast.
Addison took a few steps back down the hall toward the spare room. She wanted to call out for Nathan, but something stopped her. How humiliating would it be for Belle to hear that? Obviously Nathan and Belle had some kind of sick arrangement, one in which Nathan was allowed to bring women home and have his way with them while Belle turned the other cheek.
Addison had heard of arrangements like that, ones where women allowed their men to do what they wanted sexually in exchange for being provided with a certain kind of lifestyle.
Well. She wasn’t going to be privy to that kind of thing. Not now. Not ever.
She walked back into guestroom. The apartment, which just yesterday had seemed glamorous and shiny, now seemed sinister and foreboding, a warning of a lifestyle Addison wasn’t prepared for and knew nothing about.
She dressed in the clothes she’d been wearing last night. They smelled of Nathan, and she remembered the way he’d pushed her down, the way he’d taken her, and how much she’d enjoyed it. A lump rose in her throat, but she told herself not to cry.
Laid out on the chair in the room were a red blouse and a pair of gorgeous white trousers with a gold belt. Nathan must have left the outfit for her to wear to the office this morning. On the table next to the chair was a small jewelry box. The top was open, exposing a pair of oversized white and gold earrings. And next to that was a lingerie box, and when Addison peeked inside, she saw was a slip of pink material that looked lacey and soft and silky.
The idea of putting on anything Nathan had picked out made Addison feel sick. It probably wasn’t even him who had chosen the things. In fact, they were probably Belle’s, or things he’d bought for Belle, things that she’d deemed unworthy, things they’d probably put in some closet somewhere for Nathan’s little conquests in case he wrecked their outfits with his domination.
And how he’d behaved last night in front of Circle! Grabbing Tyler like that, when the whole time Nathan was engaged.
She shoved her feet into her shoes angrily, and marched out of the apartment and onto the street without glancing into the kitchen as she passed. She could, however, hear Belle in there, humming a little tune as she went about her morning routine.
Addison rushed out of Nathan’s building and onto the street. As her feet hit the pavement, she was immediately assaulted with the noises of a typical New York morning
– car horns blaring, shoes clacking against the sidewalk, loud voices as people barked into their cell phones as they hurried to work. Exhaust fumes filled the air, and the city pulsed and hummed with the normal electricity and vibrancy of rush hour.
Now that she was out of Nathan’s apartment, Addison’s anger was being to fade, replacing itself with a dull ache. She tried not to think about what had happened last night, tried to ignore the way her skin felt like it was on fire from where he’d punished her.
Instead, she tried to focus on what to do next.
She checked her watch. 6:48 am.
She needed to be at work by eight. But she couldn’t go there looking like this.
Her hair was a rat’s nest, her skin was blotchy, and she was wearing the same clothes she had on yesterday. She wasn’t sure if Nathan was going to fire her, but she couldn’t just not show up.
She had to go to work.
And in order to go to work, she was going to have to shower and change.
Which meant she was going to have to go back to her apartment.
***
Addison took the subway back to her building, thankful, for once, that the car was full. Usually she hated being crushed against the person next to her, hated the way she had to grasp onto the pole for dear life to avoid slamming into someone’s coffee cup.
But today, she was thankful that everyone was packed in and off in their own little worlds. She worried that if people were a little more observant, if they’d taken the time to really look at her, they’d somehow be able to figure out that she’d spent last night getting into more trouble than she wanted to think about.
When she emerged from the subway, she walked quickly toward her apartment.
But when she got there, she hesitated in front of her building. Mr. Gold was probably in his office, and after what had happened last night, she obviously was in no rush to see him.
Standing out there on the sidewalk, she realized she couldn’t go inside. There was no way she’d be able to face Mr. Gold. She was scared, and she’d never felt more alone in her life. If she were back in Georgia, she would have been able to call her parents, or her best friend Katie, or one of the dozens of other friends she’d had ever since she was little.
Here, she had no one.
Although that wasn’t exactly true. She had Tia. But Tia lived in the same building, and therefore wouldn’t be the best help. Besides, calling Tia would only invite a bunch of questions about Nathan Sweet, and he was the last person she felt like talking about.
Addison peeked inside through the windows of the building. She didn’t see Mr.
Gold anywhere, but she couldn’t see all the way back into the office. It was definitely best not to risk it. She would buy a cheap dress somewhere, and then shower and change in the fitness center at work.
When she arrived at the Intuition offices half an hour later, a shopping bag full of clothes in her hand, she headed right for the gym on the first floor. She swiped her employee I.D., careful not to make eye contact with the man working the security desk.
Was he used to seeing women sneaking in early in the morning, new clothes in hand?
Worse still, did he know that she’d been with Nathan Sweet? That she’d let him do unspeakable things to her, that she’d actually enjoyed it? Probably not. It was ridiculous to think the man working at the desk knew anything about Nathan Sweet’s personal life, especially since Nathan had just started working there.
Even so, Addison felt like she was doing something wrong as she snuck into one of the empty shower stalls. Once inside, she stood under the hot water, letting it wash away the memory and smell of what had happened last nig
ht.
Taking a bath at Nathan’s house hadn’t counted– after spending the night in Nathan’s bed, letting her hair dry on his satin pillowcases, she felt like she needed to wash him off of her all over again.
Once she was done washing and conditioning her hair, Addison dressed carefully in the simple black dress she’d picked up, then dried her hair with one of the hair dryers that was set out on the counter. She watched herself in the mirror. The same girl stared back at her, as always. Only this time, Addison thought, she had a secret.
She noticed another red mark blooming on the top of her leg, and she tugged her dress down in an effort to cover it.
Then she took a deep breath and headed out of the fitness center and up to her office.
It was early, still, and Addison was one of the first people there.
The only sounds were the senior editors in their offices, clacking away at their keyboards as they tried to get their copy ready for the latest edition of the website.
Addison had always thought that the job of a senior editor seemed so glamorous --- they took long lunches, were always wearing fabulous clothes, and got invited to parties and premieres in the hopes that they would write something good about whatever event or film was taking place.
But since she’d been working at Intuition, some of the shine had worn off – along with the posh corner offices and Jimmy Choo shoes came short deadlines, long nights, and a lot of responsibility. If things went wrong, the senior editors were blamed. If things went right, the editor-in-chief got most of the credit.
Still, Addison wanted a senior editor position. She longed for the day when she could call the shots, could decide what she wanted to write and what she wanted to cover, picking the most interesting articles and assigning everything else to others. She pictured herself spending weekend mornings in coffee shops, watching New Yorkers hurrying by as she slashed at her writers’ copy with a red pen.
Of course, she had a long way to go before she got there. And now she wondered if she ever even would get there. Now that she’d had an affair (could it be called an affair, Addison wondered, if it had only happened once? Or was something like that more of a dalliance?) with Nathan Sweet, would she be blacklisted from the magazine industry?
The thought was almost too horrible to take. Writing and journalism was all she’d ever wanted to do. What would she do if she couldn’t find a job in the field? She wondered if Nathan Sweet’s influence reached to Georgia. She had a hard time believing that Mr. McGillion at the local newspaper would know or care about Nathan Sweet.
The thought made her smile. Of course, she wasn’t completely sure if Mr.
McGillion didn’t know who Nathan Sweet was. His wife, Jennifer, was always ordering gossip magazines, and fancied herself something of a woman of the world. So maybe –
“What the hell happened last night?” Tia demanded.
Addison turned her chair around to see her friend standing behind her. Tia looked gorgeous as usual, in a pair of tight white pants and a gorgeous wrap-around blue blouse.
You would have thought that someone with her curves would have looked voluminous in such an outfit, but it was the opposite. The shirt hugged her curves in all the right places, giving her a sexy but professional look.
“I like your shirt,” Addison said.
“Don’t change the subject,” Tia instructed. She pulled a chair over from an empty desk and slid it close to Addison. “Why did you leave with Nathan Sweet last night?”
Addison swallowed, wondering how much she should tell her friend. Obviously she couldn’t tell her the full truth, about what had happened in Nathan’s office and then last night at his apartment. Or could she?
Maybe Tia would have some insight. She seemed experienced. And she seemed to know at least a little something about Nathan Sweet.
She motioned Tia closer, and Tia moved in, anxious to hear what Addison was about to tell her.
Addison opened her mouth to talk, but nothing came out. She couldn’t say the words out loud. They were too humiliating.
“It was nothing,” she said softly. “He remembered me from our meeting earlier, and he thought Tyler was bothering me.” She shrugged, like it was no big deal.
Tia raised her eyebrows skeptically. “And so he brought you to his limo and you just went with him?”
“I didn’t know what to do!” Addison said. “I was shocked.”
“Mmm hmm.” Tia shook her head, like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “And what did he do once he had you in his limo?”
“He brought me home.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure.”
“Because I knocked on your door last night when I got home, and you didn’t answer.”
Addison shrugged. “I was probably sleeping.”
“And you didn’t get the texts I sent you?”
“I did,” Addison said slowly. “But not until this morning. And I didn’t want to text you back because I knew I’d be seeing you at work.”
Tia gave her another skeptical look. She opened her mouth to say something else, but before she could, Savannah Gallos, one of the other editorial assistants at Intuition appeared at Addison’s desk.
“Hey, girls,” she said. Savannah called everyone “girls” or, if there was just one of you, “girl.” “What’s up?” She gave them both a big smile.
“Not much,” Addison said politely. “How are you?”
“Fab,” Savannah said. She took a sip of the extra large espresso she was holding.
As she did, a slim gold bracelet slid down her wrist. She held it out to Tia and Addison.
“It’s from Marcus,” she said, even though no one had asked. “He keeps getting me presents.” She rolled her eyes, like she was powerless to stop men from giving her gifts and throwing themselves at her.
“It’s nice,” Tia said, taking Savannah’s wrist and studying the bracelet.
“Tiffany?”
Savannah snatched her hand back. “I’m not sure,” she said evasively. “I think Marcus goes to a special Parisian jeweler.” She took another sip of her espresso. “You know these rich men. They always have to have the best of everything.” She rolled her eyes and pretended to be exasperated, even though it was obvious she loved it.
Otherwise, why would she have been dating these older, rich men?
Addison nodded along with her, pretending she knew what Savannah was talking about, even though the world was completely foreign to her. Rich men, limos, gold bracelets….back in Georgia, a hot date was being taken to Genevieve’s Diner, or the Railroad Street Cafeteria. And when it came to jewelry, you weren’t given any until you were engaged, and then it was always the same – a small diamond, or if you were lucky, a small diamond surrounded by a couple of other diamonds.
And obviously there were no “special jewelers” around. Addison pictured them as the kind of places where you’d end up in a back room, studying diamonds under a microscope while well-dressed sales assistants brought you champagne in fluted glasses and an overweight salesman tried to charm you into buying the most expensive cut.
“Speaking of rich men,” Savannah said, the side of her mouth slipping up into a mischievous grin, “what do you think of our new boss?”
Addison felt her cheeks flame. Desperate for something to distract her, she reached for the mouse of her computer and began clicking over to her email login screen.
She hoped she appeared casual, like she was just having a morning email check and not like she was rattled by the mention of Nathan Sweet’s name.
“Super hot,” Tia said. Tia knew better than to bring up what had happened last night, Addison was sure of that. Tia may have been a little over the top, but she was a good friend, and she knew what was okay to talk about in front of other people and what wasn’t.
“Those eyes,” Savannah said. She leaned against the side of Addison’s cubicle, pretending to swoon. “Do you think they’re real? No way they can be r
eal, right? They have to be contacts. What do you think, Addison?”
Addison thought that a man as masculine and in control as Nathan Sweet would never do anything as girly as wearing colored contacts. But she obviously couldn’t say that. “Probably fake,” she said, shrugging.
Savannah straightened up and narrowed her eyes, studying Addison’s face.
“Addie,” she said, putting on a fake Southern accent. “Why, I do believe you’re blushin’.”
Ever since Savannah had found out that Addison was from Georgia – “Really?
You’re actually, like, from there? I was conceived there while my parents were passing through on a trip to Turks and Caicos. How hilarious!” – she loved to put on a Southern accent when she talked to her. A very bad Southern accent.
“I’m not blushing,” Addison said, shrugging. “It’s just hot in here.”
“It’s definitely not hot in here,” Savannah said. She tilted her head. “You have a crush on our boss!” The way she said it, so dismissively, like Addison was a high-schooler with a crush on their teacher, filled Addison with anger. It was all she could do not to blurt out what Nathan had been doing to her last night. Well, not all of it, obviously. She’d leave out the parts where he made her beg. And the parts where he spanked her so hard he’d left marks.
The thoughts made Addison’s blush deepen, and she shifted on her chair. But all that did was remind her of the bruises Nathan had left, which made her blush even more.
She took deep breaths and tried to calm herself, hoping that Savannah wouldn’t push her anymore. Why was it that she always felt like she was younger than these girls?
They were her age, and yet they all seemed older, more sophisticated. Was it just life experience?
But if Addison was worried about Savannah pushing her about Nathan Sweet, she shouldn’t have been. Because Savannah was already on to the next thing.
“Did you hear that Joan is leaving?” Savannah asked. “It’s a total scandal.” She took another long sip of her espresso, and her bracelet slid delicately down her wrist again. Had she practiced that move? Addison wouldn’t have put it past her.
Sweet Surrender (Sweet Jealousy, Book Two) Page 1
