The Engagement Game (Engaged to a Billionaire)

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The Engagement Game (Engaged to a Billionaire) Page 11

by Gardner, A.


  "And this is much better?"

  "I know," she admits. It was lurking in the back of my head but I was afraid to ask about the sex. It was the obvious barrier in the room but bringing it up would make me want to kick her out and let her fend off the reporters on her own.

  "So . . . what are you going to do now?" I fold my arms. Holly stares at me, reading my expression.

  "I didn't plan it, Kat." She forces a loud swallow and wipes her eyes again. "It just happened." I bite the corner of my cheek so hard I expect the metallic taste of blood to fill my mouth. I couldn't handle this. I thought I'd be able to eventually. But . . . it was too painful. I feel like a broken toy be tossed aside - being laughed at behind the door to the nursery.

  "I'm leaving." I grab my purse and head for the door.

  "Kat-"

  "I don't care if you stay or go home," I interrupt.

  "Please just let me-"

  "I think we're past that." I push through the door and run down the staircase.

  "Kat!" Holly yells at the top of the stairs. I tried. I tried being the better person - the better friend. But who was I kidding? Holly hadn't even said the words "I'm sorry". I was a sucker. I grab the keys to Dad's spare car.

  "You were right," I reply. "You are a bitch. And I feel sorry for your baby."

  Chapter Thirteen

  After pushing through the reporters camped out at my apartment building I was exhausted. I'd spent the rest of my day in my bathroom drowning out the noises outside with the sound of tub water. I tried to sleep. I tried to relax. I even tried to focus on nothing but mindless, trashy TV. Nothing worked. I still couldn't bring myself to sleep. Every time I closed my eyes I saw Holly and Rex grinding on my coffee table. Backstabber.

  I turn my phone off after the zillionth text message so it doesn't explode. It was late and the scumbags outside had finally gone home. Well, most of them went home. The ones who decided to camp out until morning were quiet at the moment. Silence. It felt soothing, though it didn't cure the spouting wound in my chest. Thinking of Holly was like pouring a cup of fresh squeezed lemon on the bloody parts. How was I ever going to recover? My wound had been ripped open and made even bigger.

  A fist bangs on my door and I jump.

  "Kat?"

  I almost choke on my own saliva at the sound of Jack's voice. Of all people, I never expected him to speak to me again. Our last conversation had been nothing but a shouting match. I'd defended Rex and all this time he'd been keeping a nasty secret from me. Humiliating.

  My arms open the door against my will. "What are you doing here?" Jack holds up a copy of the The Times. Rex's face is plastered across the front along with a blurb about me - the insane almost fiancé. I was sick of looking at it. My cheeks are already red and puffy from crying and yet the sobfest continues as soon as Jack looks at me with a genuine look of concern. Crying was all I knew how to do at the moment.

  "Are you okay?" Jack holds me as my body shakes. The tears keep coming and I can't stop them. This time they weren't for my broken engagement. They were for Earl, a good man I didn't appreciate as much as I should have. I can't put the image of his pale, dying face out of my mind - our last conversation. I'd promised to look after Jack. Ease his pain. I'd sucked at it. Jack's agony transfers to me as he hugs me tight. I don't want him to let go, and I wish nothing more than to stitch up the hole in his chest that I'd created.

  It's all I can do to not break down, but as soon as I think it . . . it happens. The dramas that had been weighing me down come bursting out and I bawl. Jack holds me even tighter as my tears spill onto his t-shirt. He shuts the door and guides me to the couch in the living room. My cries fill the room.

  "It's okay," Jack whispers. I let him stroke the sides of my face. I was the one who should have been saying that to him. I was the one who should have been offering words of comfort. Instead, Jack was taking care of me. I burry my head in his chest, letting his soothing embrace surround me. My mind moves in slow motion around all the moments we'd had together - the good and the bad. All the times I'd yelled at him. He still came back. The times I'd shut him down. He was still there for me.

  "Jack," I cry. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for everything." He gently wipes my tears and studies my face.

  "I know."

  "No," I continue on. Probably looking like a troll with all the makeup dripping down my face. "I've been horrible to you. And . . ." I sniffle and wipe away more tears. "And I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. You're always there for me." Jack swallows looking a little nervous. He softly kisses my cheek despite the wetness.

  "Kat," he whispers. "I love you." The words leave his mouth and burn themselves into my heaving chest. I look at the alluring blue in his eyes, feeling at peace. Everything around me was falling apart - my friends, my engagement. But in Jack's arms I felt right where I belonged. The money didn't matter. The status didn't matter. I knew I could trust Jack, and if that wasn't enough . . . he was in love with me. The actual me. The me that walked the halls of Harrison Memorial collecting bedpans and meal orders.

  "You do?" I could barely think straight with thousands of feelings rushing through my body all at once. Did I love him back?

  "Yes." Jack's reply was confident. He kisses me, and through his kiss I can feel the truth of his words. He meant it, even if I wasn't going to say it back.

  "I-"

  He stops me before I can reply.

  "Don't say anything you don't want to say," he mutters, then kisses me again.

  His arms surround me and pull me to his flexing body. His lips explore every inch of my mouth and almost take away my pain. I'm drawn to him and the way he makes me feel. I let my fingers run through his hair and along the grooves of his t-shirt. He takes it off letting me touch every part of the tattoo on his shoulder.

  I unbutton my shirt and feel even more alive as Jack caresses my naked chest, cupping his broad hand around each erect breast. He holds me like a fragile doll and is careful to enjoy every part of my body before indulging further, letting his mouth gently suck the tips of my shoulders. Our heartbeats are in sync as we begin to move together. I feel a euphoric burning move through my limbs and rest in my pelvis. Jack continues to kiss me as we press together at a quicker pace. I can feel every muscle in his body tightening. He clutches the sides of my waist, not interested in hiding that he's lost in this moment.

  Jack loved me. He'd do anything for me. Stand by my side. For once, I threw the list aside and let my mind rip it apart. I let my hair fall wild around Jack's shoulders as the rhythmic movements between us make me breath uncontrollably. My entire body feels warm as my exhilarated thoughts jump to a mind-numbing place. I did love Jack.

  Chapter Fourteen

  "Marry me." Jack rubs my naked back, pressing firmly on the knots in my muscles. Air escapes my lungs after the words move across his lips. I smile.

  "Jack, it's three in the morning."

  "I don't care." He grins, letting skin brush against mine as he kisses me. The blue in his eyes look like turbulent ocean waves. I imagine the two of us swimming, taking in the turquoise water before we settle in the sand. "I know being married is important to you. Marry me."

  "What about what you want?"

  "Well that part is obvious." His fingers outline the shape of my lips. "I'll do whatever it takes to keep you."

  "Even if I suggest eloping to Vegas?" I joke. Jack kisses me. The way he pairs each kiss with a persevering squeeze makes me want him. He pulls away with raised eyebrows. "I wasn't serious."

  "Why not?"

  "Because," I swallow, trying to think of excuses. "You don't even know me that well."

  "Actually." His grin grows wider as his gaze slips beyond the bed sheets. "I know you very well." I blush, hoping he'll kiss me again.

  "Seriously," I giggle. "Jack, I'm a mess. What if a month from now you don't feel the same way?"

  "That won't happen," he reassures me. "I love you." The L-word again. It made my pulse soar; especially knowing t
hat part of me would always care for him. So why did I have such trouble saying it back? The eager look on Jack's face makes my chest feel heavy.

  "I believe you," I whisper. He grins, not disappointed that I'd failed to say it back.

  "Then say yes." His voice flows freely through my ears. His extravagant hands caress my warm cheeks. My heart leaps. I wanted to say yes. "Close your eyes." I excitedly play along. "Think about what you want." Jack's face was nestled in my thoughts, but the dreaded list still loomed in the background.

  "Okay."

  "If you want to be married, be loved, and make up every morning feeling this way, say yes."

  "Yes," I say softly. And as soon as I say the words my chest burns.

  "I mean what I say Kat. Let's get married."

  I let the thrill in my stomach take the lead. I smile so wide my face hurts as slide closer to Jack, letting our heaving bodies knead together. It was happening. I was getting married!

  * * *

  "After what I just read in the paper you're still tying the knot?" I could picture Sadie's sour face.

  "Don't believe everything you read Sadie."

  "So it isn't true," she asks. I throw another camisole into my suitcase. I was packing as fast as I could before I could talk myself out of it. Jack and I were driving to Vegas in an hour.

  "Okay," I confess. "Maybe it is, but I'm not marrying Rex." Silence. Then Sadie draws in a breath and releases a scream.

  "Jack! I knew you two had chemistry! Oh, I'm good. I'm really good."

  "That's why I'm calling you," I reply, trying not to laugh. "Can you cover my shift today?"

  "Can you cover me next month?"

  "Of course," I answer.

  "You're getting married!"

  "I'm getting married," I repeat. I hang up and search through my underwear drawer for a swimsuit. "I'm covered," I yell. Jack responds from the kitchen. The sound of the frying pan covers most of his voice. The smile on my face feels almost permanent but as I keep packing, something buzzes in the back of my brain. I was eloping with Jack. Unemployed Jack. The guy that sent up red flags left and right. I'd be a nurse til I was eighty. That's superficial, Kat.

  But I'd obsessed over the list for too long. It lingered and I couldn't get rid of it. What if Jack's apartment project tanked?

  "Hey Kat," Jack calls through the mess of emotions in my head. "Some people are here to see you." I peer out from my room, looking curiously at two tall men in suits.

  "Um . . ."

  "Hello Ms. Artino," one of them says. "I'm Detective Lewis." He reaches out for a handshake.

  "And I'm Detective Spires."

  I shake their hands with a twisted expression. Jack wipes his hands and greets the two Detectives. He shoots me a curious look. I shrug.

  "Uh can you help you with something?"

  "We just want a few moments of your time if that's okay," Detective Lewis replies. His charcoal suit almost blends in with his dark skin. His bald head is shiny as he steps inside the apartment.

  "Sure?"

  "Is there a problem here?" Jack continues. He seems more familiar with their routine.

  "No problem," Detective Spires responds, taking out a small tape recorder. "Is it alright if we all have a seat?" I escort them both to the living room, a little jittery. Jack sits next to me and holds my hand.

  "Okay this is starting to worry me," I admit. It was unsettling to have two Detectives knock on my door the morning after my face had been in billions of newspapers. "Is this about yesterday? Because I didn't mean to-"

  "Mam," Detective Lewis interrupts. "This is regarding your work relations with a Benjamin Saxten." At first my head draws a blank. I didn't know a Benjamin. Or even a Ben. "He's a doctor that works your floor at Harrison Memorial Hospital." My throat closes. Jack squeezes my hand.

  "Uh-huh." My body tenses up against my will. I didn't want to think about that day. I'd almost put it out of mind completely for a whole twenty-four hours. "What about him?"

  "Can you tell us when you might have last seen him?" The tape recorder is ready and all eyes are on me. What was I supposed to say? What could I say without curling up into ball, crying, and ruining the my spontaneous trip to Vegas? I start to breathe heavy. Feel dizzy. I knew it wouldn't last. This was too good to last.

  "Dr. P," I mumble.

  "If I may?" Jack answers. Sensing my minor panic attack he steps in. "We saw him at your work party, right?" I nod in agreement.

  "Is this correct?" Detective Lewis asks me. "Was this your last encounter with him?"

  "Yeah," I gulp. I force myself to make eye contact. "Why? What's happened?" The Detectives look at each other.

  "It appears that the Doctor has gone missing."

  "Missing?" I repeat. "What does that mean exactly?"

  "He's been missing his counseling sessions."

  "All this because he missed a few appointments?" I joke, trying to lighten the mood. It didn't work too well. Detective Lewis looks a bit skittish as his eyes dart around my apartment. Door. Window. Bedroom. Window again.

  "Those appointments were mandatory," he adds. Detective Lewis tugs at his shirt collar. "And now his phone has been disconnected and his house is empty."

  "Maybe he decided to move?" I suggest, feeling better that it was looking like I'd never have to see him again. "You know, start over."

  "That is a possibility," he agreed.

  "Great," Jack claps his hands together. "Are we finished here?"

  "Not quite Mr. . ."

  "Jack is fine," he answers.

  "Did Dr. Saxten ever contact you outside of work?" Detective Lewis continues. Eww! Other than all the times Sadie had stepped in to save me from a pity date, none?

  "You mean like . . . were we involved?" I instantly cringe, unable to hide what I really thought of him. It was apparent by the look on my face. "No. Not at all."

  "And did your conversations stay on the topic of work?" He leans forward, clutching the tape recorder a little bit tighter.

  "Um . . . no?"

  "Please Ms. Artino. If there are any details you can remember, any at all, that would really help us."

  "Sorry but how would that help you find him?" I ask. "He never mentioned anything to me that might be a lead. I mean, I don't even know what neighborhood he lives in or if he has any family around."

  "What about details regarding your personal life?"

  "No," I answer. The more we talked about that perv, the more confused I was. "We aren't friends. We're nothing but co-workers." And I wish we weren't even that. "Is that all?" The impatience was overflowing. I just wanted them to leave - to stop talking about the one person that made me want to stay locked in my apartment for an eternity.

  "We didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable." The detectives stand up and head for the door. "If you hear from him at all, give us a call." He hands me his card and reaches for the door knob.

  "Hold on." Jack blocks the doorway. "You wouldn't make a personal visit for a situation like this? You could have talked to Kat at work along with all the other nurses. Why come here?" Detective Lewis glances at his partner.

  "Under these circumstances-"

  "No," Jack cuts him off. "I don't want to hear a memorized statement about privacy laws and all that garbage. What's really going on here?"

  "This doesn't concern you." Detective Lewis raises an eyebrow.

  "Is she in any danger?"

  Both detectives glance at each other again, hesitating to give Jack a straight answer. I feel the dizziness return.

  "Well," I add. "Am I in some kind of danger?" More silence. "Would someone please just tell me what's going on?" More suspicious glances.

  "Okay," he sighs. He lowers his voice before saying anymore. "Upon entering the doctor's residence . . . things were found that suggest . . ." He hesitates again, looking around the apartment again like he was searching for some kind of clue.

  "Spit it out," Jack demands.

  "That he might act aggressively toward
s you."

  "Me?" I point at my chest. "Why me?" I bury the awful memories that want to regurgitate.

  "Ms. Artino we have reason to believe that he may attempt to contact you." May or will?

  "I don't understand," I shake my head.

  "He has an obsession with you," Detective Spires adds. His partner looks a little disappointed with his delivery. "Several journals, pictures, and shrines were found at his house. All were centered around you." I feel Jack's hand on my shoulder.

  "So where does that leave us?" Jack asks. I can't bring myself to respond. "What are we supposed to do?"

  "If anything happens," Detective Lewis answers. "Contact us." Would contacting him last week after my nightmare rendezvous have helped? Nope.

  "That's it?" Jack raises his voice and starts to breathe heavily. "That's all the protection you can offer?"

  "Look, we're doing our best here." Detective Lewis switches puts the tape recorder in his jacket and opens the door. "We'll be in touch." I watch them walk away, still unable to process it all. Jack shuts the door and hugs me.

  "It'll be okay," he says softly.

  "Sometimes I'm not so sure," I admit. My voice is shaky as my legs carry me back to the couch.

  "Look." Jack sighs. "I know this is the last thing you want to talk about but that thing that happened." He pauses to see if I shout an objection. "I think you should report it."

  "Why?" I stick to breathing slowly to avoid having another freakout. "It's not like they can do anything about it."

  "It'll help them build their case."

  "No." I stand up and return to the mindless task of packing.

  "But Kat you should at least consider-"

  "No!" An outburst was the first thing that leapt from my mouth. "I'm not doing it so drop it." Sitting in a room explaining every detail of how I was groped by a monster was the last thing I wanted. I wouldn't do any good. I'd already convinced myself of that. Sure, a little voice in the back of my head reminded me it was the right thing to do. The responsible thing. The brave route. I didn't buy it. For me it would have been nothing more than another embarrassment followed by an "incident" at work.

 

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