And can’t forget.
“Leave it to you to be the one to have a legit stalker. It’s the sweet ones they latch onto. Me? I’m like fucking Teflon.” Murphy tosses back the rest of her Macallan scotch and releases a sigh. “I think I should become a Domme.”
“He’s not a stalker, either.” My chest is tight. “He asked me to the dance sophomore year. I said no. The rest is ugly history at this point.”
“Yes, but you are the only girl at Wentworth Academy that ever turned him down. The. Only. One. A guy like Derrick takes that shit personally. In his mind you’re the bad guy in all this.” She checks her manicure and looks bored.
Whitney clears her throat. “How’s your mom?” She sucks her pink drink through the skinny black straw, her auburn hair falling down over her shoulders.
I’m relieved for the change of subject, but turning from Derrick to my mom is not much of an improvement.
“Fine. She seems happier. She took over the London office and came out. She’s chasing down the next big deal, of course. She’ll be Managing Partner at Gibson, Cromwell & Reed as soon as she can secure the next big client. Whatever, it makes her happy to win at all costs. At least she’s across the pond, so to speak, so our relationship has improved with distance.” I sip on my water, trying to gauge just how much each sip is worth.
“Your mom is an original.” Murphy chuckles. “She’s not like the other moms, that’s for sure.”
The movement of a tall gentleman dressed in a black suit draws my eye. As he moves through the crowd, everyone steps away. He’s parting humans like Moses parted the Red Sea. I can’t see his face but he’s clearly a force. I feel it from across the room.
Out of all the other black suits in this massive space, something about the way he moves tugs at me. I only see him from the back, but my eyes are instantly glued. The lights glint and reflect off his hair and the color reminds me of cool pint of Guinness. It’s trimmed just above the collar of his white shirt in a perfectly symmetrical edge.
Something about it makes me think of running my tongue along the crisp line. I shake away the thought. I’ve not had that reaction to a man in forever. Not since...I shake my head again. The memories making me flushed and irritated.
Adam stands up and I breathe a sigh of relief at his interruption. “I’m going sightseeing. I didn’t come here to sit and yap with you old bitties all night. Y’all coming?” He looks at his three dates for the evening and we all know we are not even close to being the kind of sights he wants to see. Our XX’s are not on his menu. He’s an XY fan.
“Sure.” Whitney stands to join him, tugging down on her black skirt to cover a another inch of thigh. Seriously, her
legs are insane. I shift my ass in my chair, feeling uncomfortable as I look at her.
I’ve gained five pounds since I came back to New York, and that’s on top of the fifteen I gained during my time in Paris. Everything there is cooked with butter and served topped with butter.
“Margaret.” Murphy shakes her head as she blurts out my mother’s name. She is apparently stuck on my mom and my family life this evening. “I remember the day you called me, when Pike left. You were more upset that your stepfather was moving out than your mom telling you she was a lesbian and their marriage had all been for her to put on the right show and feed her career. But, I never understood what he got out of it.”
“Why are you bringing this up tonight?” I snap. Thinking of this right now is irritating me more than is logical, but Murphy has a way of saying things that demands a response. Like, if I don’t say anything then I will be the one who’s being rude.
“They were college friends.” I temper my irritation with a side of monotone. “Made one of those stupid pacts. If they weren’t married by the time they were thirty-five or something, they would marry each other. Just turned out that it also coincided with my mom needing a husband to cover for her female interests. Seems a lesbian as a partner was not in the cards and Pike was a catch, what with his family name and all the zeros in his bank account. Marrying Pike Richards of Richards Holdings was apparently the magic ticket to the next step in her career. She made partner that year. Anyway, whatever, go walk around.” I flap my hand over my head. “Enough about me and my family for tonight. I’m going to stay and guard the table.”
They give me a minute of fuss trying to get me to follow them, but I stand my ground and they disappear into the black on black of the crowd.
I lean over and cover my eyes with both hands, try to recall my reasoning for why I was happy-ish. I should be happy, right?
Yes, I should, I have my dream job. Or, the first step towards my dream job.
I don’t worry about money, only because my mom still underwrites my life, and that makes me feel less than adult, I suppose. I have friends, such as they are but I love them.
Family, okay, well that’s a fairly empty hole right there. Except for Maisy.
But all in all, my life is charmed, so why do I feel like this? Like I’m clawing at the rock walls of a well, looking up at the world above. I’m a spoiled brat, that’s why. Stuck on the one person that I shouldn’t want and can never have.
As much as I’ve tried to forget, it — I mean he — keeps coming back.
In my dreams. In every other thought. I imagine him.
What he would be thinking. Doing. Saying to me. All these years later, he’s still with me more than he should be and I need therapy.
Or pharmaceuticals.
“Excuse me.” A male voice from behind my left shoulder drenches me in ice. Followed immediately by flames that flicker around my feet then rise up and over me in a whoosh that nearly causes me to black out. “You shouldn’t be here.”
C H A P T E R T H R E E