by Sky Corgan
Inside, I'm raging. He's being nosy, purposely prying.
“I don't know. Amy, is there anything new?” Tyra gives me a queer look.
“No. Nothing at all.” I shake my head, my lips feeling tight as I force a smile. “I just wanted to let you know that I showed up.” It's a lame excuse, especially given the fact that I've been standing in her office waiting for her to get off of the phone for at least a good five minutes.
“Alright. Nothing new, then.” She smiles at Derrick.
Internally, I sigh. Bullet dodged. I'll just email Tyra instead. Hopefully, she won't come to my desk afterward.
I turn to walk out of the office, and Derrick follows. My whole body is tense knowing that he's behind me, maybe because I feel like I've wronged him somehow. I'm not sure why. It's not like we were ever really dating. I just lied about it.
“Oh, and Amy,” Tyra's voice catches me off guard, making me stop in my tracks and Derrick nearly run into me.
“Hm?” I cast a glance over my shoulder, feeling my insides begin to twist.
“Doctor Reddick called. He confirmed that you were at his house all morning.”
***
“Amy, how could you?!”
I'm standing outside of Environ Design rubbing my wrist. Almost the second that we walked out of Tyra's office, Derrick grabbed me and practically dragged me out of the building. I knew this lecture was coming, I had just hoped it could wait until at least lunch time.
“Derrick, this can wait.” I roll my eyes, using rudeness as a defense mechanism.
“We talked about this,” his tone raises an octave, then he looks towards the door to make sure that no one can hear us. Everyone is staring.
“We'll talk about this at lunch,” I growl.
“Did you fuck him?” Disgust is written all over his face.
For a moment, I think about lying. It will calm him if I say no. Then we can go back inside and work peacefully until lunch. I'm really not up for the tension of telling the truth. But at the same time, I just want to get this over with. Telling him now will be like ripping off a band-aid. Plus, I don't want to string out the betrayal of his trust.
“Yes,” I admit, keeping my nose up. I'm not ashamed that I slept with Lucian. Perhaps if he had been dismissive as usual, I would be. But things were different last night. Worlds away from what they have been.
Derrick draws his hand up to his face, and I can almost feel the anger radiating off of him. I stay silent, waiting for him to say something—to pitch a fit or have an all-out fight with me. He doesn't say anything though. And after about two minutes of just standing there looking angry and wounded, he steps past me to pull open the door and go back inside, not even glancing at me.
Inside I crumble. It's entirely unexpected, the pain that comes from him not saying anything at all. His disappointment in me is crushing, almost suffocating. Tears well up in my eyes, and I know I'm going to need another minute before I can go back inside. I don't get that minute though. Tyra pokes her head out the door, and I have to suck up my emotions immediately.
“Is everything alright?” she asks though she looks more irritated than concerned.
“Yeah. I'm fine.” I wipe my face with the back of my arm, praying that I don't smear my makeup.
She holds the door open for me, practically forcing me back inside. Silently, I curse her for not giving me a few more minutes to recover. This is her job though, making sure that I'm doing my job.
“I'm not sure what's going on with you two,” she tells me softly, though her softly is still loud enough for everyone in the office to hear. “But I need you to separate your emotions from work. You're here to do a job, remember.”
“Mhm.” I nod weakly, biting back the vile things that are rolling around in my mouth begging to be spat out. I am doing my job. My job is to keep Lucian Reddick happy, and that's exactly what I've been doing all morning. And it's kind of hard to separate my emotions from work when they're entwined with the project. This fucked up love triangle I have going on. I don't know how to deal with it. Everything would have been fine if she hadn't said anything about me being with Lucian this morning. If Derrick hadn't been nosy and come into her office trying to figure out what was going on.
I suppose it's just deserts though. Only yesterday, I was in Lucian's bedroom turning over all of those pictures. I had no business to do it, yet I did it anyway because I desperately wanted to know his secret. Everything turned out alright though. Better than alright.
This is my karma. Not all secrets revealed have a happy outcome.
***
Even though I came in to work late, the day seems longer than usual. At lunch time, Derrick whizzes past my desk to go eat alone. It hurts, but I understand. The wound of knowing that I spent the night with Lucian is still fresh. Hopefully, he'll get over it in a day or two. He told me before that we could still be friends even if I wasn't interested in him. I hope that holds true.
I text Lucian periodically throughout the day, though he never responds, which only makes me feel worse. By the time I get off from work, I'm beginning to think that he played me again. It wouldn't be an unrealistic possibility. He's very good at pulling me in and pushing me away. At least now I know that he does it because he's damaged. That makes the thought a bit more bearable.
I come home to find Janice sitting on the sofa in the living room watching television. She doesn't even look at me as I walk through the door and set my purse on the bar.
I sigh deeply as I come to sit down on the sofa next to her and kick off my high heels. That's when I notice she has a bowl of popcorn on her lap and is shoving a handful in her mouth while her eyes are glued to the screen. It only takes a few seconds for me to realize that she's watching a horror movie.
“Having fun?” I ask.
She waves her hand, shushing me. “This is the best part.”
I lean back and wait for it, the part of the movie where the girl makes the wrong turn and gets stabbed to death by the murderer, an undeniably attractive guy in a mask. It's an old slasher movie. Well, not old, but older. We've both seen it at least half a dozen times, so I'm not sure why she's getting so excited about it.
“Do you want me to tell you who he kills next?” I whisper into her ear teasingly.
She pushes me away, furrowing her brow. “You suck, Amy.”
“Not yet, but I've been thinking about it.” I trace my tongue across my bottom lip as I recall Lucian's cock being so close to my face, how it smelled, how his pre-seed tasted, how much I wanted to stick that big, fat shaft down my throat and feel him throb in my mouth. Just thinking about it gets me all hot and bothered.
“Another late night with Blue Eyes?” She sounds completely unamused.
“You're getting good at guessing.” I reach over to grab a handful of popcorn.
“Well, you don't visit your parents much anymore.” Her eyes widen for a moment.
“That's not true.” It is true. I really need to go home for a weekend. It's been over a month since I've seen my parents, though I have been in contact with my mom via text.
She grunts in reply, and it annoys me that she's not more excited for me.
“So I told Derrick that I slept with Lucian again, and he's really pissed at me now.”
“He'll get over it. He's not really into you anyway. He just thinks he is.”
I frown, wondering if she's right. In truth, I should be happy if that's the case. It would mean Derrick's bitter feelings will pass quickly and we'll be able to return to how things were before.
“What if he doesn't get over it?” I scrunch up my face, not wanting to think about that possibility.
“If he really cares about you, he will. You guys have been friends forever. Him wanting to date you did kind of come out of left field. He's probably just jealous because there's a new guy in your life and he doesn't know how to cope with it.”
That might be true. Derrick has been the only guy in my life in a really long time.
/> “But I'm honestly not surprised that he's pissed off about the whole Blue Eyes thing. Even if he wasn't interested in you, I can see why he'd be ticked.”
“What's that supposed to mean?” I turn to her, quickly becoming tired of her strange attitude.
Her shoulders slump and she casts a sideways glance at me. “That guy is no good. We've discussed this.”
“He's...fine,” I hesitate. “He's just...damaged.”
“Sure. They all are.” She gestures absentmindedly in my direction. “And let me guess, you're going to fix him.”
“I'm going to try,” I insist, beginning to think that I might have been better off just going to my room.
“It never works, Amy.” She leans forward and sets the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table. “Besides, you're not into the same stuff that he's into. You probably don't have much in common. It would never work out.”
“What's your problem?” I glare at her.
“Nothing.” She rolls her eyes and sulks back against the sofa.
“It's not nothing.” I look down at her. “Are you on your period or something?”
She snorts and shifts her gaze, which is a good indication that the answer is yes.
“Janice, talk to me. We're best friends. This is what friends are for.” I offer her a weak smile.
“You just don't know what's good for you, and it's kind of annoying.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “You go after this Dom, and then it's blah blah blah he's so awesome, but I want to change him. It doesn't work that way, Amy. There's nothing wrong with him. Nothing that needs to be changed. You shouldn't go after guys like that and expect them to change just because you want sweet romance.”
Her words sting, and I can't quite process them. It feels like she's just lashing out at me for no good reason. “So this is about Lucian being a Dom?”
“You weren't even into this shit in the first place.” She grabs the remote and angrily turns the television off. “You just followed me like a puppy. And now you have a Dom and I...I'm going to Flesh this weekend. You should come too if you want any hope of keeping this guy around.”
The realization that she's jealous hits me like a ton of bricks. Janice. Gorgeous, funny, sweet Janice is jealous of me. She saw Lucian and she wanted him. Not the way that I want him. She wanted him as he was.
“Why is this all coming up now?” I ask.
“What do you mean?” She looks offended.
“You seemed fine after Fleshfest.”
She sighs, rubbing her brow. “I'm sorry. I think I'm just tired.”
“Maybe you should take a nap,” I gently suggest, patting her leg.
“Maybe I should.” She stands up and walks down the hall to her bedroom, leaving everything behind.
I still get the feeling that she's mad at me. The fact that she didn't even take her popcorn is a good indication of that. She wanted to get away from me as quickly as she could, and I still don't feel like I know why.
The day after Fleshfest, she told me she thought Lucian was bad. She knows everything he's put me through. I can understand if she's just being concerned, but I'm not sure that's what this is about.
I marinate on what she said for the rest of the night, on me wanting to change Lucian. It's true. I do want to change him. Is that so bad though? Maybe I'm asking for too much. Perhaps I'm even asking for the impossible.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
It's the next day, and Derrick still hates me. Maybe hate is a strong word. He hasn't said anything to me since I walked through the door this morning though. All I've gotten from him is a few bitter glances. I wish he would just suck up his feelings, because we still have to work together on Lucian's interior design project...not that there's much for either of us to do right now.
The project is at a standstill. With all of the furniture already picked out, we're waiting on Lucian to schedule time to go look at it with me since he's insisted on physically examining every piece of furniture personally before purchasing it. It's a bit annoying, but at least it means I get to spend more time with him. It also means that I don't have anything to do today besides play games on my computer and surf the internet.
No matter. This is what I would be doing if business was slow anyway. And there are a lot of slow days at Environ Design. At least, I know that Tyra won't send me home, because Lucian could contact me at any time.
A little before noon, Lucian sends me an email.
Miss Underwood,
My afternoon opened up. I was wondering if we could get together to start looking at furniture. If you tell me where to go, I can meet you at around 3PM.
Regards,
Lucian Reddick, M.D.
Reddick Plastic Surgery
I pause to decide which furniture store we should go to first, taking into consideration which ones are closer to Lucian's home and his practice. I'm not sure where he's coming from, so I think about picking one of the furniture stores in between. Then I remember that he wanted to work on his bedroom first, so I decide to contact the store with the beds to make sure they have them on display. Once that's done, I email Lucian back with the address. He sends me a confirmation email, and I spend the rest of my workday wondering if the man I am meeting at the furniture store today is still going to be the same sweet man I left yesterday morning or if he's going to be the Dom I met at Flesh.
***
I arrive at the furniture store fifteen minutes early, parking near the front so I can see Lucian no matter what entrance he comes from. Then I realize that I have no idea what he drives, so I'm not even sure what I'm looking for. I dig my phone out of my purse and stare down at the screen, at all of the text messages I've sent him that he hasn't responded to. Everything as cordial as asking how his day was going and what he was doing. Is there even any point in asking what he drives? I'm sure it will be something flashy and expensive—something I'd see from a mile away. Rich guys usually drive fast sports cars. Not wanting to be disappointed by his lack of a response again, I set my phone down in the cup holder of my car. If he's late, I'll call him. Maybe then he'll answer me.
He's not late though. He's right on time. And I definitely know when he's arrived.
Instead of a flashy sports car, I see a limo pull up in front of the store and drop him off. Does he drive himself anywhere, I wonder? The same limo picked us up from Fleshfest. Maybe he's just so wealthy that he doesn't need to own a car. For some reason, it reminds me that I still don't know a lot about him. This is trivial stuff though, little things that can be learned over time. He told me a lot of really big, important stuff when he explained about the pictures and how he got the house.
“Hey there.” I greet him as I approach the limo.
He looks like a movie star, wearing dark sunglasses, his hair perfectly combed to the side. He's in black from head to toe, crisp slacks and a polo shirt. He stuffs his hands casually in his pockets, and it seems almost like he's striking a pose. That's all in my imagination though. Good God, he's gorgeous. Just seeing him standing there like a picture of flawlessness makes me feel frumpy.
“I'm glad I got the place right.” His gaze shifts up to the big block letters of the furniture store sign.
“Yup, you've got the right place.” I knit my fingers together in front of me, suddenly feeling small and mousey.
“Shall we?” He takes his hands out of his pockets to open the door for me.
I nod, blushing as I walk past him. I hate that he makes me feel like this, that my blood gets warm just from being around him. He has some kind of pull over me. I wonder if other women feel it from him as well. Probably. Just looking at him makes my hormones bounce up and down and scream for sex. Sex on legs. That's what he is.
“I thought we'd look at beds today.” I pull the pictures out of my purse that I printed of the furniture we're here to look at. As I do, my eyes catch one of the salesmen coming towards us. He's the guy I usually deal with. Well, have dealt with the few times that I've actually physically had to c
ome to this store.
“Hello, Miss Underwood. We've been expecting you.” He beams at me.
“Hey, Walter.” I smile back at him. “We're here to check out some furniture today.” I immediately feel like an idiot after saying it. Of course, we're here to look at furniture. Why else would we be at a furniture store. I swear, being around Lucian makes me completely lose my mind at times.
I start to hand the pictures over, but Lucian catches my wrist. A small gasp escapes my lips as I look up at him. He's staring directly at Walter, a forced smile on his face.
“That won't be necessary,” he says in a tone that borders between friendliness and sternness.
Walter takes the pictures from my hand anyway and looks down at them, ignoring Lucian, though I can hear the nervousness in his tone. “That's quite alright. I can show you where these pieces are at. It will be no trouble at all.”
“I think we'd rather take our time looking around.” Lucian drags me into the store past Walter.
I practically stumble before catching my footing and glancing back towards the door. Walter seems puzzled, and all I can do is give him an apologetic look as Lucian leads us away.
“Are you alright?” I ask in a hushed whisper, trying to hide my discontent. That was completely rude, walking away from Walter like that.
“I'm fine. I just don't feel like dealing with someone who is going to hard sell me on something I'm already planning on buying.” He lets go of my wrist as we approach the stairs.
“I don't think the bed I want for your bedroom is upstairs.” I glance around the bottom floor, desperately trying to locate the bed that Lucian picked out before I'm forced away from the area.
“I don't care. He's not upstairs.” Lucian throws his thumb over his shoulder in Walter's direction.
I can't help but wonder if they know each other. Lucian's acting really weird and he sounds almost disdainful towards Walter.
