Obsessed

He allows the doors to close behind him before he speaks. "I want to explain."

The elevator jolts to a heavy stop on the fifth floor. The doors open and four people flood in. They're all talking about the same seemingly evil boss they work for. I stand in silence with Jax next to me.

He leans down, his breath reaching my neck. "It's not what you think."

Again, the elevator jars us as it stops. This time it's the third floor and as a small group of people enter, I quickly push through the crowd and slip off. I breathe a heavy sigh of relief as the elevator continues its downward flight to the lobby with Jax still onboard.

Chapter 8

I glance at my ringing phone again. It's the same number for the sixth time since I left Veray this afternoon. It has to be Jax. I slide back down into the bathtub, letting the water and remaining bubbles rush over my body. Since I left the elevator I've replayed every interaction with the man over and over again in my mind. He knew when he met me at the gallery that he practically owned my business. My pulse quickens just thinking about how foolish he's made me feel.

I pull myself from the now tepid water and walk to my bedroom with a towel wrapped around me. I need fresh air so I decide a walk in Central Park will help. I throw on a pair of loose fitting jeans, a white t-shirt and a light pink cardigan. I rummage through my cluttered closet to find a comfortable pair of blue flats.

"Ivy." I hear the recognizable sound of Mrs. Adams' voice as I lock my apartment door behind me.

I turn to look at her. "Mrs. Adams. How are you today?"

"I'm fine." She gives me the once over. "Are you wearing a brassiere, dear?"

"I glance down at my full breasts pushing against the thin fabric of the t-shirt. "Oops. I guess I'm not."

"You should close this then." She reaches to fasten several of the buttons of the soft cardigan.

I smile. "How was your hot date?"

She giggles in response. "I'm eighty-nine-years-old. My suitor is eighty-six. Hot dates are for the younger crowd."

I laugh with her. "I'm going for a walk. Would you like to join me?"

"Not tonight. I'm rather tired. I just stopped by to give you this."

She hands me another letter addressed to Mark. "Thank you," I say in a hushed tone.

"I don't have to keep giving them to you." She reaches to take it back. "I know it must be hard."

"No." I hold the letter tightly. "It's fine. I'm going to take care of this with Mark."

"Good," she says. "You need to get that boy out of your life for good."

I nod in silent agreement as she turns to walk away.

***

Sixty minutes later I march into the lobby of my apartment with Mark's letter still clutched in my fist. The instant Oliver approaches me I see Jax sitting on the bench near the elevator.

"He's been waiting for almost an hour, Ms. Marlow." Oliver's voice is apologetic.

"It's fine." I smile weakly. "We work together."

Jax stands as I approach him. "Ivy, we really need to talk."

"Let's talk." I stand in front of him, perspiration gathering on my forehead from the brisk walk I've just finished.

"Not here." He glances in Oliver's direction.

"He's paid not to hear." I know my voice sounds harsh. I suddenly feel overheated so I quickly remove the cardigan.

"Your apartment would be better." Jax reaches to push the call button for the elevator, his eyes lingering on my breasts.