Resentment is lodged in the back of my throat. I swallow it down because it won’t do me any good now. I have to cram my emotions into a box and lock them up, or I’ll cry. I can’t even imagine what Black would do with that.
Gabe stops in front of the hotel. Before he opens the door, he shoots me a look. “I’m keeping a close proximity tonight for obvious reasons. Black wants confirmation the deed is done.” The corners of his eyes are wrinkled, like he’s seen too many sunrises that made his gaze narrow with disgust. The guy is a fighter and for some reason he’s looking out for me.
I nod and slip out of the car when the hotel person opens my door. It’s a young guy, maybe a year or two younger than me. His dark eyes sweep over me once and he smiles. “Good afternoon, Miss.”
If this guy complimented me like that a few weeks ago with his flirty smile, I would have felt something, but now I just nod. There’s no normalcy any longer. The young man looks taken down a notch, although I didn’t mean to do it. It’s like the other night when I was talking to Sidney—Peter’s girlfriend. I said something stupid and accidentally insulted her. In my head it sounded light and playful but when it fell out of my mouth, well, I know I was a bitch for saying it. I wasn’t myself that night. I haven’t been myself for a long time. What happens to people when they lose sight of who they are? Can they ever come back? Is the old version of me gone forever, or can I pull her back from the depths?
Since my parents died, my life has been filled with nightmares, and grief so thick it feels like globs of fat, coating my skin, suffocating me day by day. The fake smile that spreads across my lips as I smooth my silk dress, the slight sashay to my walk, the confidence in my stance, it’s all fake. A few male heads turn as I walk by. I know this by now. Something about a confident, well dressed woman makes them look. They wonder who I am and where I’m going, and a good chunk of those guys wonder how it would be to get between my legs. They admire the man who landed me. I’ve seen many impressed glances the times I was with Sean or Henry in public. But the truth is, if anyone dared to look, they’d notice that I have no idea what I’m doing and I don’t care. Maybe if I act like I’m into whatever Henry wants, then he won’t notice that I’d rather be anywhere but here.
If I could only be so lucky.
As walk through the front doors to the hotel, I confidently move toward the elevators. This is the same place I met Henry the last time I tried this. My stomach is twisting in knots as beads of sweat break out across my forehead. The elevator doors shimmer as they open and I step inside. I dab away the perspiration on my face, terrified that I’m going to hurl in the elevator before I even make it to his door, but I’m not stopping. I won’t quit—not that I have the option—and it’s not like Henry is horrible. He’s actually pretty sweet, but I don’t feel like that toward him, and that’s the problem. I don’t feel anything toward Henry, except friendship.
That’s why I’m turning into a plastic person. You know, the kind who are so fake they’ve forgotten how to be real. If it helped me forget the pain shooting through my heart every time it beat, I’d sign on the line and never look back.
The nausea makes my stomach lurch. I open my purse and dig out an alcohol wet wipe. After tearing the top open, I inhale deeply and the over-salivating thing stops. When I was in fourth grade, I had horrible nerves like this and the nurse had me sniff a cotton ball with some rubbing alcohol on it. Apparently, the smell can short circuit the part of the brain that’s pressing the vomit button like a chimp jacked up on Pixie Stix.
I have to hold it together. When the elevator doors open, I manage a smile. My mind keeps replaying the scenes from the last time I saw Henry, which isn’t helping me any. This time the act has to be thicker and the lies falling off my lips have to be so deep that they become real.
Stepping out, I manage to smile and walk down the hall to his room. This is it, Stanz. Jump in or run like hell and hope Gabe doesn’t bother to hunt you down. Before I can lift my hand to knock, the door flies open. Henry is standing on the other side with an ice bucket in his hand. He startles and nearly jumps out of his skin.
“Avery, I didn’t hear you knock. Please come in, make yourself comfortable while I grab some ice.” He holds the door for me. I smile at him and duck under his arm and into the room. “Be right back, love.”
“All right.” I walk into the little room. It’s just a bed and bathroom, like last time. I wish I loved getting wasted because I’d be so schnockered right now. I put my purse down and walk over to the window and look out at the city. The sky is inky blue with a smearing of fluffy clouds that are hard to see because of the tall buildings.
The door opens and Henry pockets his key card. He’s wearing a cream button down shirt that’s open at the neck along with a pair of gray slacks. His hair is a little less perfect than usual, like something’s been stressing him out and he ran his fingers through it a million times.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of ordering champagne. I actually have some exciting news, which is why I really wanted to see you this weekend.” Henry puts the ice bucket down and crosses the room. On the desk there is a bottle of champagne already chilled. He lifts it out and takes up a glass flute like he’s done this a thousand times before.
I step toward him. This is going to make it much harder to not get shitfaced. I failed to eat before coming so this will go straight to my head, and as it is I’m a lightweight when it comes to drinking. Still, I smile at him as I walk over and I place my hands on his shoulders as he tops off my glass. Henry turns, grinning at me, and hands me the bubbling liquid. “So, what’s the exciting news?”
“My design worked. You know how I wanted Ferro’s patent?” I nod and sip. “Well, everyone was telling me that what I wanted to do couldn’t be done, but it worked. The prototype was completed Friday morning and it worked!”
“That’s great, Henry! What is it? What does it do?” I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear and take another sip.
My mind wanders; I think I can outrun Gabe on foot. I could dart out the door and vanish. No one would ever see me again. I have enough money to live in a shack in some little town off the grid. I could do it—but I’d hate it. More thoughts flash into my head and disappear just as quickly, but no matter what, there is no way out of this.
“I don’t think you’d understand. It’s complicated.” Henry watches me sip. For some reason his words feel like an insult.
I twirl the stem of the glass between my fingers and look up at him. “I’m smart. Try me.”
“Very well, but first tell me who was keeping you from me yesterday and the day before? As soon as I found out the good news about my invention, I wanted to celebrate—and I wanted to do it with you—however your employer wouldn’t arrange it. So,” Henry slips his hands around my waist and pulls me to him so that our hips bump. His grip is firm, possessive. “Tell me who I’m playing second fiddle to this weekend.”
I laugh lightly, like he’s funny. “Henry, you know there’s no one else that I’d rather be with—”
“So Black was just creating supply issues to make me crave you more? Because I already crave you more than is reasonably healthy.”
“Cravings can be good…” I throw back the rest of the contents in my glass and set it down.
Henry’s gaze follows my movements. He tips his head to the side and whispers. “What are you craving, love?” Henry leans in and presses his lips to mine. He kisses me and I force myself to kiss him back, even though I don’t want to. When he pulls away, there’s a sparkle in his eye, like he knows something that I don’t.
“What’s that look?” I ask.
“You’re too sweet to me, always trying to protect my feelings, but I know who you were with this weekend. I saw you two together.” The floor of my stomach drops like someone cut the elevator cord. Before I can say anything, Henry stops me. “I knew you had other clients, but I didn’t imagine you were screwing him.” The idea of me fucking Sean obviously upset him.
I touch Henry’s arm lightly and look into his eyes. “Then don’t. Tonight there is no one else, it’s just you and me.”
He shakes his head. “It’ll never be just you and me. I should probably stow it and just shag you until I’m satisfied, but I can’t stand the idea of you being with him. Do you know who he is? What he’s done?”
Things are spinning out of control. My pulse pounds faster, so that it’s banging in my head like a drum. “I don’t really get a say in things, Henry. And I’m here with you now. I can celebrate with you now.” I try to touch him, but his hand flies out and he swats me away. The action surprises me and I don’t know what to say.
Henry’s voice sounds light, like it doesn’t matter, but it clearly does. “Yeah? And how should I take you? I’d rather not share the same woman with Ferro, but if I have to, tell me where he fucked you so I don’t get his leftovers.”
This isn’t like him. “Henry? What’s going on? You hired me. Did you really think you were the only client I had?”
“I wanted you to myself.”
“It doesn’t work that way.”
Henry grabs my wrist hard and yanks me toward him. When Sean did things like that it felt exciting, but right now warning bells are going off in my head. Something isn’t right, but I think I’m overreacting.
Henry’s jaw is clenched tight and his eyes narrow to thin slits. He hisses in my face, “Maybe it should.”
“You’re hurting me.” I try to twist away from him, but I can’t. My pulse freaks out. This is wrong. Something has broken in this guy’s brain—I see it in his eyes. Every instinct I have is telling me to haul ass out of there, but the guy has a lobster-like hold on me and he’s fucking twisting. I bend my arm so that my wrist doesn’t snap and yell, “Henry, let go!”