She reread the note again, her pulse speeding up at the part where she was supposed to wait for him. Was he going to come to her tonight? Would they do what they’d done last night? The thought made her light-headed. She took a deep breath.
All around her were the sounds of her co-workers returning from lunch – the tap of computer keys, the soft sound of phones ringing, the drone of voices. How could everyone be acting like everything was the same, when Addison’s whole world had been turned upside down in the span of twenty-four hours?
For the rest of the afternoon, Addison sat at her desk, pretending to work. She oscillated between wanting to go to this new apartment, and wanting to tell Nathan Sweet to screw off. But by the end of the day, she was angry.
How dare he? He had a fiancé for God’s sake! She’d googled her after letting herself hope for just a moment that Belle had somehow been mistaken, that maybe her and Nathan weren’t engaged.
But it was there, all over the internet. Pictures of them together at events, at parties, walking a dog in Central Park. There was even an engagement announcement, with a picture of the two of them in Nathan’s apartment. His eyes burned bright blue in every picture, and even though Belle was unarguably beautiful, it was Nathan who Addison couldn’t keep her eyes off.
But when she came across a quote from him, about how he was looking forward to planning their future together, her anger overtook any longing.
And so when the clock finally struck five o’clock, she decided she would wait for Nathan, just like he’d instructed. Only it wasn’t going to be at the apartment he’d gotten for her.
She would wait for him outside of the office, and when he got out of work, they would have it out. She would demand her things back. She would tell him he had been completely inappropriate with her. She would make it very clear that even though he was obviously used to getting what he wanted from other women, she wasn’t that kind of girl.
And then she would tell him to go home to his fiancé and leave her alone.
The thought excited her. She couldn’t wait to yell at him. She even considered the possibility of perhaps threatening him with a potential lawsuit. Maybe telling him that if he tried to fire her, she would go to the police. Well, okay, not the police. But definitely a lawyer. Maybe even the press.
She imagined the headline.
“Nathan Sweet: Womanizer!” would be splashed all over the New York Post.
She gathered her things and headed out, ready to put her plan into action.
The anger inside of her was so strong that it distracted her from the fact that she had nowhere to go. There were no thoughts of the future in her mind, just the immediacy of yelling at Nathan Sweet.
Once on the sidewalk, she wasn’t sure exactly what to do. So she bought an orange juice from a café and then sat on a bench outside the building. She was determined to wait all night if she had to.
Luckily, it didn’t come to that.
Half an hour later, Nathan came striding out of the building.
At the sight of him, Addison felt a pressure in her chest. He was as beautiful as always. She hadn’t seen him all day, and now that he was here, in front of her, the longing that overwhelmed her was almost unbearable.
Almost.
She walked over to him, pushing her chin out and forcing herself to keep her shoulders back. There were two other people with him, a man and a woman. Addison didn’t recognize them, but from the way they were dressed, they were probably important. But instead of discouraging her, the fact that Nathan wasn’t alone just emboldened her.
“Excuse me, Mr. Sweet,” Addison said sweetly. She held up the envelope that was in her hand. “I’d like to talk to you about something.”
She’d expected to see fear in those deep blue eyes, worry that she was going to expose him for what he was – a lying, cheating, no good bastard. But instead, there was just anger mixed with confusion.
“Just a moment,” he said to the people with him, his tone conveying his annoyance.
He grabbed Addison’s elbow and steered her down the sidewalk.
“Don’t touch me,” she growled, trying to pull away from him. But his grip was tight, and he was much stronger than she was.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he asked, hustling her into a coffee shop half a block down.
“What the hell do I think I’m doing?” She turned over the envelope she was holding, letting the paper and the key drop to the floor. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Her voice sounded slightly hysterical, and she could tell she was losing it. But all her emotions over losing her apartment and what happened with Nathan swirled around in her brain, mixing into a hurricane.
“You are acting like a child,” Nathan said calmly. He bent down and picked up the paper and the key, then took the envelope from her hand and slid them back inside.
“I am not,” Addison said. “I’m acting like someone who spent the night with her boss and then found out he was engaged the next morning.”
“Ahh.” Nathan nodded. “So that’s what this is about. You must have met Belle.”
“Oh, I met her all right. How could you have done something like that?” She held her breath and waited for the explanation. She hadn’t realized it, but all day she’d been hoping that maybe there’d been some misunderstanding. Maybe Nathan wasn’t engaged to Belle. Maybe she lied. Maybe she was a crazy ex-girlfriend, maybe they’d broken up and those pictures on the internet were from back when they were together.
“Something like what?”
“Something like sleeping with me when you were engaged!”
Nathan shook his head. “Addison, it’s a lot more complicated than that.”
“So she is your fiancé?”
Nathan hesitated. “Yes.”
She went to push past him, furious tears pushing at the back of her eyes. Nathan reached out and grabbed her arm.
“No,” he said. “You’re not leaving.”
“I don’t know what kind of twisted pervert you are,” she said. “But I’m not having any part of it.”
“I’m not a twisted pervert.” The thought seemed to amuse him, which infuriated her.
“What would you call sleeping with me and then sleeping with her?”
“Belle and I don’t sleep together.”
“You don’t…” she trailed off. “You expect me to believe that?”
He shrugged. “Believe it or don’t. But it is the truth, Addison.”
He was still holding her hand, and he pulled her close to him, crushing her against his chest. Her nipples hardened and her heart sped up.
“Let me explain it to you,” he whispered into her ear. “And then you can decide if you want to see me again.”
His breath tickled her skin, reminding her of the way he’d held her down yesterday on his couch, the look in his eye as he’d taken her.
“Go to the apartment,” he said. He released her and pushed the envelope back into her hand. “And wait for me.”
And then he brushed by her and out the door, leaving her standing there looking after him.
***
The apartment was on the Upper West Side, in one of those cute little neighborhoods that reminded Addison of Sex and the City. Brownstones lined each side of the street, and trees cast dappled shade onto the sidewalk. She found the address and walked up the front steps. There were two apartments in the building, and hers was Apartment B, which, from what she could tell, was on the second floor.
She walked up the stairs, slid her key into the lock, and opened the door.
Addison gasped.
Long floor to ceiling windows made up one wall of the living room, giving her a view of the street while letting in the warm glow of the evening light. The walls were painted a warm shade of light brown, the kind of color that made you feel relaxed and welcome, yet managed to look chic and stylish at the same time. The furniture consisted of two comfy-looking cream-colored couches with tons of throw pillows and
a wicker chair that added a splash of contrast.
The kitchen was small, but modern, with oak cabinets and gleaming cream and tan countertops. It was exactly the kind of place Addison would have chosen to live if she could afford it.
The thought that it was hers thrilled and frightened her at the same time. She wanted this apartment. But she was afraid when she thought of the conditions that might come with it.
The rest of the place was just as spectacular – the bathroom was big and had a window and a good-sized bathtub. There was a cute little office where her laptop was already set up on the desk.
And in the bedroom, a new queen size bed with a shiny white headboard sat in the middle of the room. She opened the closet to find that it was walk-in. Small, but still. A walk-in closet was unheard of in Manhattan.
Not only had all of her clothes been washed and hung neatly on the hangers, but there were new clothes there, too. Dresses and pants and skirts and shirts. She checked the tags. All in her size.
This was insane.
Addison didn’t know what to do.
Her cell phone started vibrating from the living room where she’d left it, and she rushed back out.
Tia.
She answered it.
“Where the hell are you?” Tia asked as soon as she picked up.
“What do you mean?” Addison stalled.
“I mean that you’re not here. The door to your apartment is wide open and all your stuff is gone!”
“Oh.” Addison sat down on her new couch and smoothed her dress down over her knees. “Um, I moved.”
“You moved?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Addison thought about it. Ah, what the hell. Why should she lie to Tia? Tia could handle it, and besides, Tia should know about Mr. Gold if she was going to continue living there. “There was an incident with Mr. Gold. He assaulted me.”
“He assaulted you?”
“Yes.” Addison cleared her throat. “It was last night.”
“Oh my God! Did you call the police?”
“No.” She shook her head. “I didn’t.”
“I’m coming over,” Tia said. “Where’s your new place?”
“Oh, no,” Addison said quickly. “That’s okay. I’m fine.”
“You don’t sound fine,” Tia said. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing, I swear, I just… ah, I have a lot of unpacking to do.”
“Okay.” There was a pause. “Are you coming to the party tonight?”
The Technology in Journalism Party. She’d forgotten all about it. But how could she go now? She was supposed to wait here for Nathan. “Oh,” she said. “I don’t know.”
“You have to come. Everyone’s going to be there.”
“I just….I have a lot of work to do.”
“Fine,” Tia said, sighing. “Call me if you change your mind.”
“I will.”
Addison hung up the phone. Suddenly, she was starving. She moved to the kitchen. There was no way that Nathan would have stocked her fridge, was there?
Buying her clothes was one thing, but food…
But there was food. Tons and tons of food. Fresh berries and melons, all sliced and stacked neatly in individual plastic containers. Pre-made salads. Fresh juices.
Sandwiches on thickly-sliced multi-grain bread. All of it was organic and healthy. There wasn’t one processed thing in the refrigerator.
Addison fixed herself some cheese and crackers and a bowl of fruit salad, then sat down at her tiny breakfast bar to eat. An assortment of magazines had been left on the counter, everything from Forbes to InStyle.
She browsed through them until she became restless, then moved to the couch and flipped through the television channels. The time ticked by.
Eight o’clock.
Eight-thirty.
Nine.
Where was he? As the minutes went by, Addison became more and more agitated. Once again, the harsh reality of the situation began to set in. What had she been thinking? This was her engaged boss. He’d admitted he was engaged. He hadn’t even tried to lie to her!
The gall of him!
She started getting more and more worked up, until she was so tense she was pacing back and forth. Finally, she decided that she wasn’t going to be here when and if Nathan came to see her. Why should she be? He didn’t deserve to have her sitting here, just resting on her laurels while he was God knows where with God knows who.
But where would she go?
The Tech in Journalism Gala.
Why not? Tia had already invited her, and what did she have to lose? If she got caught crashing the party, then so what? It wasn’t like things could get much worse.
She strode into the bedroom and threw open the closet. There were dresses, of course. Beautiful, shimmery, shiny dresses hanging neatly on hangers. Probably for when Nathan wanted her to parade around in the apartment, Addison thought angrily.
It’s not like he would be taking her out anywhere – not when he had a fiancé.
She sent Tia a quick text.
Want to go. Meet you outside the hotel in an hour?
***
By the time Addison arrived at the Covington Hotel, her anger hadn’t faded. If anything, it had only intensified. She’d spent the last hour getting ready, and working herself up even more than she already was.
Her hair was blown straight, her makeup was perfectly applied, and her dress a black sparkly number with a plunging neckline that fit her like a glove.
Tia wolf whistled when she saw her. “Wow!” she exclaimed, her eyes bugging out of her head. “Where the hell did you come from?”
“Is it too much?” For the first time since she’d put the dress on, Addison was afraid she might have overdone it.
“No, it’s hot,” Tia said. “But how can you afford Cavalli?”
“Who?”
“Roberto Cavalli.”
Addison shrugged. “Never heard of him.”
“Where did you get that dress?”
“It was a gift.” It wasn’t a lie.
“Well, you look amazing.”
“Thanks.” Addison flushed at her friend’s compliment. Tia knew what she was talking about when it came to fashion, and if Tia approved, then Addison knew she must look good. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”
“Thanks.” Tia was wearing an aquamarine floor-length sheath that gathered on the side. The dress accentuated her waist while showcasing her curves. “Come on.” Tia took Addison’s hand and pulled her into the hotel.
To Addison’s surprise, they weren’t even asked for their tickets. Dinner seemed to be winding down, and the well-dressed guests were wandering around the ballroom now, cocktails in hand as they talked and schmoozed.
“Wow,” Addison breathed. She couldn’t help it. Everything was just so glamorous.
“I know.” Tia squeezed her hand. “Pretty amazing, isn’t it?”
Addison nodded.
A tuxedoed waiter floated by holding a tray full of champagne, and Tia grabbed two and handed one flute to Addison.
Addison took a sip. It was sweet and smooth, the best champagne she’d ever had, and she forced herself not to gulp it down.
“What do we do now?” Addison asked.
“Now we mingle,” Tia said, a glint in her eye.
“Mingle?” The thought was terrifying. Addison didn’t know anyone here. How was she supposed to mingle?
“Yeah, you know, talk to people, network, that kind of thing?” Tia was scanning the crowd. She spotted someone she knew over near the front of the room, and she waved. “I’ll be right back.”
Addison was about to tell her not to leave her just standing here, but before she could, Tia was gone, practically floating across the room.
Damn. What was she supposed to do now?
The bar was practically empty, mostly because the room was well-stocked with waiters making their way through the crowd with enough drinks to keep everyone happy.
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Addison sat down on one of the stools and sipped her champagne.
She was working up the courage to strike up a conversation with the woman on her right when a man sat down next to her.
“Hello,” he said, sounding friendly.
“Hi.”
The man signaled for the bartender, who bounded over. “I’ll have whiskey sour,”
he said. He looked at Addison. “Would you like a drink?”
“Oh, no, I’m good.”
“You sure?” He grinned. “It’s open bar, so I’m buying.”
“No, really, I’m fine.” She held up her half full champagne glass.
“What are you doing?” a voice growled in her ear.
She turned around.
Nathan.
A mix of conflicting emotions stormed through her body – anger, surprise, desire.
“What are you doing here?” she blurted.
“What are you doing here?” Nathan demanded. “You’re supposed to be at your apartment waiting for me.” He grabbed her elbow and began leading her across the room.
“Let go of me!” she demanded.
“Be quiet.” He brought her over to a small room in the corner. He opened the door and shut it behind him. It was a coat closet.
“Let me out of here,” she demanded.
There was a lock on the door and he pushed it in.
“Who was that man you were talking to?” Nathan asked.
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“No.” She shrugged. “He was just a man at the bar.”
“Addison.” His eyes blazed as he said her name. “You cannot be going around talking to random men at bars. I thought I made that clear last night.”
“You’re not in charge of me.” It was an immature thing to say, but she didn’t care. This whole conversation was ludicrous, and immaturity seemed like it might be called for.
“I’m in charge of you for as long as I say I am.” He crossed the room and pushed her up against the wall, his chest pushing against hers. Her breath came in ragged gasps, and fireworks sparked in her stomach. He reached up and traced her collarbone with his finger. “Why are you wearing this dress in public?”
“You bought this dress for me!”
Sweet Surrender (Sweet Jealousy, Book Two) Page 3
