“Thank you, Ms. Sinclair.”
“It’s Rose. Stop being a child,” I reply and release the button, effectively cutting him off.
Chapter Twenty
He doesn’t care how I look.
Rose: He put flowers and chocolates all over my desk again and won’t leave me alone. He’s just not relenting.
Laurie: Seriously? GET THE MESSAGE, DICKWEED! SHE’S NOT INTERESTED!
Rose: I’m sure he heard you just fine. All those caps.
Laurie: I wanted to do my part.
Rose: You always nail it.
Laurie: I think so too. Shall we Netflix and chill later?
Rose: Yes. That would be a great distraction. Your place or mine?
Laurie: Epic, I’ll come to yours with pizza.
Rose: Fabulous.
It has been just three days since I broke up with Pax and like NYE he is not slowing down. He won’t stop calling me and texting me.
He approaches me at work so much I’ve had to start working inside Mr. Conti’s office. And then he started texting me accusing me of fucking him, so I opened the blinds just to get him off my case.
I haven’t spoken to Mr. C about the texts, but he has seen the everyday gifts. I don’t want to bother him with my drama that shouldn’t have been brought to the workplace at all.
It’s sweet but I’m just not into it anymore. I genuinely don’t want to be with him anymore. It’s just too stressful. Relationships shouldn’t be hell from what I’ve seen of them. Take the Contis, for example, both generations, they’re all in stable happy homes where they cherish and respect each other.
That’s what I want, stability and happiness and a man who is a grown-up and understands that I have a life outside of him.
My workday finishes and I grab a couple of bottles of wine on my way home, startled to find Pax waiting for me on the steps leading up to my door. He’s sitting on the second step up, his head in his hands slumped forward over his knees.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, stopping by my car, keys in hand. Something doesn’t feel right about this. I don’t like it.
He looks at me with swollen eyes and an unsteady gaze.
“I need to speak to you,” he says, standing. I had wondered if he’s been drinking due to the hazy look in his eyes but he’s coherent enough that I think he might just be a bit upset.
“I don’t think there’s anything left to be said.” I stay where I am, not wanting to pass him.
How could such a passionate man become my enemy. Three weeks ago, I was smitten, and even though I still care about him, with how he’s been recently I can now only say he makes me nervous.
I want to hug him and make him better if I didn’t think he might hurt me.
“That’s bullshit,” he cries, sounding like a whiny teenage boy and not the grown, accomplished man that he is. “I love you. This isn’t fair.”
“You called me a whore and accused me of sleeping with my boss. Of course it’s fair.”
He looks at the bag in my hand and sees the neck of the two bottles of wine peeking out of the top. “Since when do you drink wine?”
“Since Izabella,” I reply and it’s the truth. Izabella introduced me to the wonderful joys of drinking certain wines with certain foods in certain companies. I think I’ve had dinner with her more times than she has her own kids over the past few weeks.
Although she did convince Mr. C and me a couple of weeks ago and we all went to a fancy place around the corner on our lunch hour, taking an extra hour to appease his mother who gushed over how nice it was to see us.
She’s such a wonderful person.
“Cunti’s mom? Don’t you think it’s weird that you hang out with his mom so much?”
“No, she’s my friend.”
I step back when he takes a step towards me.
“I’d have lunch with your mom if she ever knew I existed.”
“She does know you exist,” he insists, his eyes wide with hope. “She wants to meet you. If we just go back to how things were…”
“No.”
“Please, just one more chance,” he begs, lowering his voice when a young couple walk between us.
When they are out of earshot, he prowls closer, eyes on me, lips a grim line.
“I said no,” I repeat, pulling open my car door. “Please just leave me alone.”
“It’s not fair. I said I was sorry…”
“You didn’t actually, but even if you did, I won’t accept, not this time. I’ve forgiven you for too much lately.”
He stalks away from me, hands clenched into fists by his sides. I race to my door, heart pounding and head spinning. I fumble with the key in the lock and don’t fully start to breathe again until I’m safe inside with the chain on the door.
I don’t know what it is about this new version of him that terrifies me, but something in my soul is screaming at me to stay away. He makes all the hair on my body stand on edge.
Rose: Guess who I just found on my doorstep less than a day after calling me a whore?
Laurie: No fucking way?!?!?!?!? He’s tenacious. Are you going to give him another chance?
Rose: No. He scares me.
Laurie: Want me to bring a baseball bat?
Rose: No. It’s not that dramatic. I’m just done with the drama. How’s your bae?
Laurie: Still gives amazing head. Still like him.
Rose: Good. Can’t wait to catch up. Hurry your butt over here.
Mr. C: Did you file a sexual harassment order against me?
I blink at his message. Did I what?
Rose: Of course not! What the hell?
Mr. C: That’s what I thought. It’s okay, it’s probably an error or somebody has taken down the wrong details.
Rose: At work or with the police?
Mr. C: Just at work. If you could call through tomorrow and retract it, I’d be grateful.
Rose: No problem. Worst first week back ever.
Mr. C: Why? What else has happened?
Rose: Nothing. I’ve got it under control.
Mr. C: Is he giving you any hassle? Do you need me to step in?
Rose: I’ve got everything under control.
Mr. C: Just say the word.
I smile at my phone and prepare for Laurie’s visit by showering and getting in my pajamas, the glowing Rudolph ones. I’m never going to stop wearing them. I don’t care that it’s not Christmas.
Rose: Did you file a sexual harassment order at work from me against Mr. C?
I contemplate sending the message but end up deleting it and huffing. I know it’s Pax who has done this, it’s got to be. What the hell is he playing at?
Laurie arrives and I relax a smidge, allowing myself to enjoy wine, pizza and a rom-com.
“I can’t believe how different you look,” she says for the thousandth time since arriving.
“You too. I can’t believe you’re blonde. I miss your ginger.”
“Me too. I might go back,” she holds a lock of hair up to the light. “HAIRBRUSH ORGASMS.”
“No, thank you, I have a vibrator.”
“VIBRATOR UP YOUR MOM’S BUTT.”
“Don’t have a mom.”
I laugh when she sighs, clearly frustrated with herself. Mostly she just gets on with it but recently it’s been getting her down. I think it’s causing issues with her new bae and the kind of things they can do together. I don’t think it bothers him, but I know she’s just waiting for the other shoe to drop. It will bother him eventually, or so she believes. I said she just needs to find the male version of me who loves her tics for what they are. A part of her.
“You good?” I ask, squeezing her shoulder.
“I’m so good.” She smiles sadly and we both scream when something outside smashes. It sounded like my car and sure enough the alarm starts.
“I’ll call nine-one-one,” Laurie whispers and I go to the window in the kitchen, heart racing and palms sweating.
I can’t see anybody ou
tside, but the streetlight highlights the glass shattered all over the ground around my poor red beauty.
“Somebody has broken into my car,” I grumble, moving to the front door but Laurie stops me with a hand on my arm.
“Could it be Pax?” she asks still on hold with the non-emergency police number.
“I hope not, It’s probably a coincidence. I left a ton of change in the cup holder.”
“I told you to stop doing that.”
“I know.”
She spends twenty minutes trying to get through before the person takes our details and tells us it’s not worth pursuing and to contact my insurance provider. Yeah, right.
“Want to stay at my place?” Laurie asks and I don’t even hesitate to nod. “Get your things, we’ll go as soon as Kyle gets here.”
“You called him?”
She nods again. “He said he’s on his way.”
I grab my toiletries and what I need for work the next day and leave my car in the mess it’s in. It doesn’t even bother me to leave it behind, there’s no way I’m doing more than boarding it up and waiting for Safelite to come and fix it. None of which I can do until tomorrow anyway.
When Kyle arrives, we tape cardboard to the open hole, all of us on edge wondering if the person responsible is still nearby, and then we dive into his car and he drives us to Laurie’s.
It’s not until I’m in her bed trying to sleep that I hear her and Kyle talking about it and what he says gives me the chills.
“The change was still in the cupholder.”
Which means either somebody wanted to randomly vandalize my car, or it was definitely Pax.
There are no gifts for me on my desk at work the next day either. Thank heavens. I’m also really late because I had to get the subway and I got off at the wrong station.
“Sorry I’m late!” I cry, pushing open the door to Mr. Conti’s office. “OH MY GOD!” My hands fly to my eyes after locking on to his for seconds longer than I should have allowed, and then I turn so sharply I walk straight into the edge of the closing door. Pain radiates through my temple and I fall onto my ass with a jarring thud as Mr. Conti pulls up his pants and does up his belt. I can hear him rattling. I’m not looking. I’ll never be able to look at him again. I just caught him plowing his wife from behind over his desk. Pants pushed down below his ass, her skirt up and over her hips.
“I thought you locked the door,” Mr. Conti hisses as I scramble to my feet and leave the office feeling dizzy and sore.
“I did,” Mrs. Conti replies, equally as quiet but I’m already out of there. “I should go.”
I bury my face in my arms on my desk, not daring to look up as she passes and calls for the elevator by rapidly pressing the button.
“Six plus six, times six, add six,” I mutter to myself, trying to remove the images from my head but I have photographic memory. They aren’t going anywhere.
The light flashes, he’s calling. I don’t answer.
It flashes again.
I stop being a coward and hold down the button, “Yes, Mr. Conti?”
“Can you come here for a second, please?”
“No, thank you.” I let go of the button and switch on my laptop.
What is this clenching feeling in my chest? Why am I so disturbed and upset by this? Why is my heart pounding and my stomach twisting? I don’t care that he’s fucking his wife. I’m just embarrassed. That’s all. I’m not jealous.
The light flashes again.
I press and hold the button again.
“Yes, Mr. Conti?”
“Come here.”
“Please don’t make me.”
“We’re all adults here, Rose. Get a grip and come here.”
“I disagree.” I release the button, knowing I’m being petulant but I’m irrationally angry with him.
The light flashes again.
I press it and snap, “What?”
“I said come here.”
I stand, smooth down my pants, ensure my shirt is tucked in nicely and then head into his room, my low heels clicking on the wooden floor.
Stepping inside, I mentally prepare myself for the chastisement I’m about to receive.
“You are two hours late for work,” he snaps, his sleeves rolled up his strong forearms, his ass resting on the edge of his desk closest to me. His ass that I just saw bare and from the side.
It was a nice ass.
Nope… not going there.
I stop less than two meters from him, my mind blank.
“Did you hear what I just said?” He clicks his fingers in front of my face.
“Don’t do that, I’m not a dog.” I push his hand away from me. “Yes, I heard you. I’m surprised you even noticed I was gone.”
His brows pull in and a flicker of something flashes in his eyes. “What happened? You’ve never been late before, nor have you ever switched off your phone.”
“Forget it,” I answer, glancing at the door behind me. “I have so much to catch up on.”
“Wait,” he grabs my arm and reaches for the hair at my temple. “You’re bru——”
“Don’t!” I yank my arm free and step away from him. “Don’t touch me. I know where your hands have been.”
He chuckles and wiggles his fingers at me. “I washed them, don’t worry. Let me look at your head.”
“Worry about your wife. I’m fine.”
He sounds surprised as he asks, “Are you mad at me?”
It does seem like I am, I can see why he’d think that but I’m not mad, not at him, not on purpose. “I’m just having a really shit day, Mr. Conti.”
“Tell me about it.”
“I have so much to do.”
He grabs my arm again, ignoring my protests and pulls me to the leather sofa. “Sit, talk, I’ll listen.”
I fold my arms over my chest, unable to look at him right now because all I can see is his face contorted, eyes squeezed shut, ass clenched and...
I squirm in my seat, trying not to think of how he gripped her hip with his large hand. The same hand pulling my hair back again.
“You’ve got a bruise.”
“I was assaulted by your door, bruises happen,” I retort pushing his hand away again.
“Talk to me.”
I exhale long and deep and look into the eyes of the man I usually consider my friend. “My car got broken into last night, so I stayed at Laurie’s and then I had to get the subway to work but I got off at the wrong station, and I’m Samsung whereas Laurie is Apple so when my phone died I couldn’t charge it because I forgot my power cord.” And breathe.
“Okay.” He takes my hands in his. “What have you done about your car?”
“Nothing, my phone died.”
“Right, well, let’s cross that off the list. Did you report it?”
“Yep, they told me to call my insurance company. Fat chance. I’m not raising my premiums.”
“Police are useless these days, they’re too stretched thin,” he mumbles, still holding my hands. “Okay, I’ll get your car sorted, you’ve got a power cord at your desk, and I’ll drive you home after work. Okay?”
Now I feel bad for yelling at him and getting angry because he was taking pleasure in the woman he married.
He releases my hands and opens his arms. “Need a hug?”
“I do but not from you, you smell like sex,” I mutter petulantly, shrieking when he grabs me anyway and pulls me back into his chest. “Stop… so gross.” His strong arms band around me and then his fingers start digging into my sides.
I hate being tickled. It’s torture.
“Stop!” I beg, laughing so hard everything hurts not just the area he’s prodding and poking.
I grab his hair and pull, making him cry out. Soon we’re both fighting for power but he’s steadily beating me, grabbing my hands and pulling them away from his body.
“Sex hand,” he says and covers my mouth with his palm. True to his word he smells and tastes of soap, but still… ewww. I
bite the fleshy side of his palm and really sink my teeth in.
“Ow. Ow. Ow. OW!” He releases me and I stop biting him.
I sit up, haughty and with attitude. Glaring at him, I stand and smooth the crinkles out of my clothes. “This is a professional workplace.”
He laughs his ass off as I stomp out of his office with aching ribs and a sore head.
Ezra sorted my car out for me while at work, he had it taken away for repair and dropped me off at home at the end of the day. My car is gone, the glass has been cleared and I run into my apartment like my heels are about to catch fire. I open the entrance door and slam it closed and make quick work of the door to my apartment.
I leave my keys in the lock, just in case, and check all the nooks and crannies for bad guys. I’m so paranoid. I’m not going to be able to sleep tonight.
I have a can of mace somewhere, so I search for that and keep it in my baggy pajama pocket. Then I sit and watch TV on the lowest volume while reading the things I need for our trip to NYC in a couple of days.
Nothing happens. Or so I thought because, when I wake up the next day, my neighbor upstairs told me a man kept asking her to let him in at two in the morning. She said he said that he was worried about me, because I hadn’t been in touch for days, but she saw me leave in the morning and saw my car and put two and two together.
She threatened to call the police and he left.
It had to be him.
What is he playing at?
Chapter Twenty-One
His AMAZING ass.
“It’s going to be okay,” I reassure Mr. C, placing my hand on his bouncing knee. For once he’s the jittery one. “You’re going to nail it.”
Becoming His Mistress Page 16
