CHAPTER 9
Present Day
I looked fabulous in my so-not red but super green dress. I probably should have worn a black dress, considering what day it was, but I think my dad would support me in wearing this piece.
My mom and Rose decided to go out to eat and I told them I’d meet up with them after for drinks once I’d briefly made a presence at my obligatory work party. Little white lies never hurt anyone, right? They were out the door by 2:00 p.m., and that’s when I went to town transforming myself from waitress/maid/cleaning lady to the sexiest version of me I could manage. And damn, did I look fabulous.
I did one last check in the flimsy partly shattered full-length mirror in my bedroom.
Sexy as hell eye shadow. Check.
Ravishing red lipstick. Check.
J’Adore perfume. Check.
Shaved legs. Check.
Shaved vajayja. Check (that one was for me knowing he’d be missing out big time).
Hair styled in lovely loose waves (although, yeah. I desperately needed to bleach my roots). Check.
Blood red nail polish. Check.
Golden chandelier earrings with a matching necklace. Check.
I didn’t remember ever looking or feeling this good. My gaze drifted to my nightstand, to the picture of my dad and me. I knew he would approve. He would have known Spencer was my Dark Knight and would fully have enjoyed thinking about how his daughter was smart enough to recognize her Dark Knight and ruffle his man feathers with style and grace. Ok, maybe not so much grace (Ipecac….) but definitely style.
But even so, this was insane. I felt I should be out with my mom and sister, remembering our dad rather than being forced to go out with a man I despised just so I could get back the necklace that rightfully belonged to me.
The doorbell rang and I quickly whisked the tears from my cheeks. Hell, if I’m going to let my Dark Knight see me vulnerable.
I grabbed my bag from the table in the dining room. I looked inside to find the bottle of Ipecac very much still there. I pulled it out and clenched it to my chest with my eyes closed God, I can’t do it. It’s just so very wrong. Was there another way?
Maybe if I tried to approach this with faith—believing that Spencer will do the right thing and give me my necklace back—things would work themselves out. Faith. Yes. I’d rely on faith.
I took the Ipecac bottle out of my bag and placed it in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. Immediately, I felt better. It was the right choice then, to not stoop to my Dark Knight’s level.
I ran to the front door and opened it.
But when I saw who was there, a surge of anger went through me.
“Oh, my God you look amazing,” Paul said with a slurred voice.
Wait. Was he… drunk?
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
His gaze lingered on my cleavage for a few moments before we made eye contact.
“You weren’t answering your phone… I needed to see you,” he said.
“Paul…” I closed my eyes and shook my head. “What part of ‘I don’t want to date you’ don’t you understand?” I opened my eyes and his gaze was fixated on my cleavage again.
“I booked us a trip to Hawaii in a couple of weeks,” he said with a slurred voice. “I knew you wanted to go there,” he said.
My hand hit my forehead.
“Listen…” I said.
He moved closer and reached out for me, and that’s when I noticed the scent of alcohol on his breath, confirming my suspicion. I smacked his hands away. He moved in, wrapped his arms around me, and tried to kiss me. I shoved him hard enough that he had to take several steps backward in a drunken stumble.
“Leave me the hell alone, Paul. We are done. I’m never going out with you again, and the next time you show up at my door, I’m going to put a restraining order on you!”
He looked at me in shock, speechless. He dropped to his knees and looked up at me with forlorn, desperate eyes.
“I’m begging you, Ellie. Please… please take me back.”
“Do you understand?” I asked.
“Ellie…”
“Do you understand?!” I yelled.
He blinked once, and then his demeanor fell. I knew he heard me this time, and even though I was glad, I also felt like shit for having threatened a restraining order on him. But I realized it was the only way he’d fully understand that we were through.
“Yes, I understand,” he said.
“Good,” I said. “Good-bye, Paul.” I slammed the door shut and exhaled a sharp breath as I leaned against the wall. Finally… finally I’d gotten rid of him. I mean, it was bad enough to have to deal with my Dark Knight, but to also have to deal with my Beggar and Dark Night on the same day, that was just too much.
There was another knock at the door, and I felt myself go livid. Had he not left?
I swung the door open and yelled, “What?!” But instead of Paul standing there, there stood an unfamiliar man who looked to be in his mid-fifties. He was dressed in a black and red suit and wore a hat. The gold name tag on his coat read “James.”
“Miss Ellie Goldstein?” he said.
“Yes.” I inhaled and exhaled slowly, trying to not appear as embarrassed about my behavior as I was. “I’m sorry. I… uh… I thought you were someone else.”
“I’m your chauffeur,” he said. “And I’m glad I’m not who you thought I was.” He winked at me.
“Yeah, well. Er…” I felt my cheeks go hot. “Where’s Spencer?” I asked.
“He’s waiting in the limousine, ma’am.”
Of course, Spencer didn’t want to bother walking up the three flights of stairs to come get me. This place/dump of mine was probably beneath him. Besides, this wasn’t really a date. It was more like consensual blackmail.
Whatever. I stepped into the hallway and locked the front door. Navigating the slippery cement stairs was a completely different story in heels than in sneakers. It was a nightmare, actually. I had to hold onto the railing for dear life, so I didn’t tumble head-first to the bottom.
Once I managed to ever so ungracefully get to the bottom floor, I stepped outside. Thankfully, the weather had cleared, and the day had turned out sunny. The chauffeur showed me to the black limousine waiting for us. A chauffeur. A limousine. If Spencer thought riches impressed me in the least, boy was he mistaken. Ha. He probably wasn’t even thinking about that. This was just the usual for him.
The driver opened my door and inside sat Spencer. He wore a black suit and a red tie, looking so sharp and sexy I must have lost a million brain cells at the sight of him. He held a glass of whiskey in his hand and sipped it as his gaze languidly perused me.
Huh.
Interesting.
He showed no reaction to my non-red dress.
I slipped into the seat opposite of him and made myself comfortable. The air smelled of him, a musky, manly scent that was the same as I remembered from the first time we met. It was torturously divine.
His eyes flicked to mine and darkened ten shades. I held my breath. Not a word had been exchanged between us but the space between us buzzed with electricity.
Why couldn’t that intolerable magnetism just go away?
He sat his glass onto the table and leaned forward, his gaze sinister, as if he was scheming how to punish me... or to break me. Shit. He was going to give it to me. I just knew it. I tried not to squirm in my seat, but it was impossible, so I shifted.
He steepled his hands and pressed the tips of his index fingers to his lips… his very distracting lips. I swallowed hard and my gaze dropped to his feet. He wore black lacquered shoes, shined to perfection.
He drank me in with his eyes, slowly, from head to toe. The lingering silence magnified the magnetism between us a hundred-fold.
The driver hopped into the front, but we didn’t move. How long was Spencer going to make me wait before he reacted? Him giving me the silent treatment like this was worse than him yelling at me for defying him. But I refused to be the one to speak first.
He sat back and continued to stare at me. What. Had I shocked him into silence? No. He was way more in control of his emotions than that. Perhaps he was punishing me with his silence.
Screw it. I just couldn’t do it anymore. The silence was more than I could handle.
“Nothing to say?” I asked.
“My date was with a woman in a red dress,” he said.
“It didn’t fit me,” I said as nonchalantly as I could.
“If that woman wants her necklace back, she’d better go change.”
“Why do you feel the need to be such an asshole?” I asked.
He gazed out the window, completely ignoring me again. I wanted to scream at him, to give him an hour-long lecture about how idiotic, how immature, and how completely controlling he was being. But I knew it wouldn’t help. I was beginning to see that the only way I’d ever get my necklace back was if I obeyed his orders completely.
“Fine.” I took my bag, opened the limousine door, and struggled my way up the steps in my heels. Once back inside my apartment, the first thing I did was to locate the Ipecac bottle and put it back in my bag where it belonged. I was so fuming, I couldn’t think straight. Next, I changed into the stupid, stupid, stupid red dress, cursing as if I were a sailor.
As I zipped it up, I couldn’t help but notice that it fit me exactly. I looked into the mirror holy hell… I looked pretty damn amazing in it. The thigh high split showed off my long thin legs and the strapless top made my breasts look like they should be on the cover of some breast implant magazine. That made me even more furious. Remembering the Ipecac made me feel that I at least had some shred of control in this situation. I silently thanked Jen as I wobbled my way down the steps again.
The chauffeur opened my door when I arrived back at the limousine and Spencer squinted when he saw me. It wasn’t a normal squint. It was a squint that said, “I want to tear you out of that dress and you’re going to let me.”
Little did he know that I had a devious plan of my own and that plan didn’t include any physical contact, only physical hell.
I sat down opposite him again and clutched my bag.
“Take your necklace off,” he said.
Was there no end to this man’s controlling behavior? Ha. Stupid question. I took my necklace off. Not a second later, he handed me a black, flat, and square velour jewelry box.
“Open it,” he said.
I was beginning to think he’d soon want me to start telling him “Yes, Sir.” I opened it, and inside was a stunning diamond choker necklace. I couldn’t help but gasp at what must have been at least two hundred marquise diamonds.
“Wow,” was all I could say. “Are those… real diamonds?”
“It’s on loan.”
“Of course,” I said. He gestured for me to turn around. I did as he commanded, and he proceeded to clasp the choker around my neck. A shiver ran through me as his warm finger ever so lightly brushed my skin. I sat back and studied him as he studied me.
“Just as I imagined,” he said. “Breathtaking.”
My hand reached for the necklace and I looked away, the compliment and the desire in his eyes too much to take in.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“You’re going to have to leave your bag in the limousine,” he said, eying it.
I mean, I saw his point. My worn brown leather bag didn’t exactly match the ensemble I was wearing. Rather than adding to it, it detracted from it in a major way. But how would I bring the Ipecac with me? I’d have to figure that out on the way to our destination.
“So, where are we going?” I asked.
“To my house,” he said.
“Your house?” What, was this Netflix and Chill or something? No way was I going to agree to that. “I…”
“I’m hosting a fundraiser for the Make-a-Wish Foundation. There will be dinner, dancing, and networking.”
Suddenly, the Ipecac plan didn’t seem so smart after all since there was going to be others around. But it would sure be a hell of a way to get back at him.
“Why are you inviting me to this?” I asked.
“You’re the only person I know who hates me as much as I hate you and won’t talk my ear off all evening. Since this is one of the most important charity events in all of Seattle all year, only the cream of the crop present, I needed someone who would act more like a business partner and professional rather than a needy insecure cunt.”
“You really are romantic, aren’t you?” I muttered.
“When I intend to be.”
Yeah, I recalled our night when he’d ordered chocolate-covered strawberries, chocolate lava cake, and champagne. He was definitely smearing it on thick then and almost had me fooled into believing there was a gentleman in there somewhere, a gentleman who cared. I was certain I’d never make that mistake again.
“What about your girlfriend?” I asked.
“I don’t have a girlfriend,” he said.
Wait… Victoria Secret model look-alike wasn’t his girlfriend? My stomach flipped. Why did it flip? I just tried to ignore it as best I could.
“So, since it appears that I’m off the hook for sex, where’s my necklace?” I asked.
“It’s at my house. I’ll return it once the evening is over. That way it guarantees that you can’t screw me in front of my closest friends and most important business associates.”
“Who do you think I am? Some crazy person?” Never mind the Ipecac in my bag. And how was I going to bring it inside with me again?
“No, not crazy,” he said. “But the rumor is that you’re not always impeccable with your word.”
What? “What?” What? Was that the rumor he never told me about? That I’m a liar?
“At least when it comes to your relationships with men,” he said.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“That you lie to men to get what you want. You’re a master manipulator.”
Oh, God. That was the craziest rumor I’d ever heard.
“Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about,” he said, frowning at my reaction.
“I truly don’t have a clue.”
He slid into the seat right next to me and rested an arm on the headrest behind me. His nearness made me feel all kinds of things in the deepest part of me… things I really didn’t want to feel.
“You know how beautiful you are, and you use your beauty to get what you want from men,” he said.
“What?” I was so shocked that I didn’t even have a comeback.
“You’re like the siren luring men to her, torturing them until they are crazy about you and will do anything to be with you.”
“I think you have me mistaken with someone else,” I said.
“It’s what you tried to do with me the night of your eighteenth birthday. But I was smarter than that. I wasn’t going to play your game and beg to have you.”
“First of all, you invited me to your suite. And I denied you because all you wanted was to take my virginity,” I said. “I wanted someone to make love to me the first time I had sex, not just be some conquest.”
He thought for a moment and gave me an accusatory look.
“But you really weren’t a virgin, were you?” he asked.
“What?!” I exclaimed.
“Oh, come on, Ellie. Let’s not play games anymore.”
“I’m not playing games.”
“Was your second time that bad that you erased it from your memory?” He chuckled. “Mike?”
“Mike…Mike who?” I asked.
“Mike, my friend who I’d hang with at Princess Harbor.” He stared at me, a bored expression on his gorgeous face.
“I’ve never even officially met him. Only seen him at a distance.”
He looked confused for a moment, as if I’d somehow tilted his entire world on an axis.
“Oh, come on now,” he finally said. “It’s been years. You can confess.”
I scooted as far away from him as I possibly could in this confined limo. “Confess what?!” I yelled. “I didn’t sleep with him if that’s what you’re alluding to!”
“Perhaps there’s been a mix up in communication here,” he said after a long moment.
“What did Mike say about me?” I yelled. When he didn’t answer, I added, “Tell me!”
A deep groove appeared between his eyebrows. “This is a conversation for another time. Let’s have as pleasant evening as we can, shall we?”
Ugh. I was so done. Once I had my necklace back, I’d avoid Spencer like the plague. Leave the country if I had to. I didn’t need to know his secrets or anything about his crazy friends or what they said about me.
I stared out the window in silence the rest of the way there, all the while trying to ignore the acute sexual tension tht was impossible to ignore. After about thirty minutes, the limo pulled in through a security gate and continued up a long tree-lined brick road.
Spencer’s house was a mansion and a half, built in Colonial American style. It was white and black and stood on a huge plot of land with endless gardens. Everything was manicured to perfection, and had I not been in such a foul mood, I would probably have enjoyed the scenery.
The driver pulled into a circular driveway in front of a large water fountain and a servant dressed in a black tuxedo opened our door. Spencer exited first, which gave me just enough time to hide the Ipecac bottle in my cleavage.
He offered me a hand, and for some odd reason, I didn’t think twice about taking it.
“Thank you,” I said, once outside.
We shared a lingering glance and I felt my knees become unsteady under his penetrating gaze. I hated it.
“You really do look stunning in that dress,” he said.
“Uh… thank you.” My heart started to beat faster even though I was certain he only said what he said so I’d behave throughout the evening.
“I suppose some part of me always wanted to bring out the best in you… to be the man who gives you everything that excites you.” He moved closer and brushed my lips with his fingertips. That stirred memories of his sinful mouth on mine and I was instantly aroused, thoughts of what it would be like to be with him clouding my mind. “I can’t wait to show you off,” he said.
My lips parted and I breathed through the pleasure that arose at his compliment.
Like a perfect gentleman, he offered me his elbow. I took it and the contact was electric, sending heatwaves through me. What was wrong with me? Being close to him, it was as if I lost all brain power and all I could think about was him, how his arm was firmer and thicker than I remembered it being… how he smelled, how he moved beside me, how the women standing in line drank him in with unadulterated lust. Spencer had truly grown into a man now, a boy no longer. I recognized that he brought out something different in me, something that felt equally dangerous and exciting. He brought the woman out in me… the primal woman who wanted nothing less than the alpha male.
We walked along the red welcome rug behind other guests and two servants opened the double doors as we stepped inside. The foyer was crawling with the wealthy elite, the women dressed in beautiful gowns, the men in suits.
Waiters and waitresses carrying trays of champagne and hors d’oeuvres slowly weaved between the guests. I recognized a few of the guests here, members of Princess Harbor, and some I even recognized as acquaintances of my dad.
My dad.
That thought made me remember what day it was. When a waitress passed with a champagne flute, I quickly grabbed one and downed it in just a few seconds. Spencer leaned over.
“Go easy on the alcohol, Ellie,” he whispered into my ear, offering a stiff smile.
“You don’t need to parent me,” I retorted.
“I didn’t bring you to have you make an embarrassment of me,” he said. “I brought you because I wanted to have the most beautiful woman on my arm.”
I turned my head and stared at him, trying to figure out if he was joking or being serious. He looked serious. Too serious.
“I appreciate the compliment, but it kind of makes me feel like a piece of meat,” I said.
“And a very fine one at that,” he said as his gaze scanned the crowd.
I opened my mouth to give him a piece of my mind, but he spoke before I had the chance.
“You might not know many people here, but my father, Gordon, is here,” he said. “You remember him?”
“You mean the man you can’t wait to see croak,” I said.
He shot me an angry glare. “I’d prefer it if you didn’t air out publicly what I’ve shared with you in private.”
“Sorry,” I said, feeling guilty.
“Excuse me, Ellie. I need to go meet a couple of people.” He left me standing alone in the middle of the foyer, an empty champagne flute in my hand.
“If I can just get through the evening, I’ll have my necklace back,” I muttered beneath my breath to motivate myself to not lose it.
I meandered into the living room, admiring the crown moldings, the massive chandelier, the custom-made furniture, and the pieces of modern art on the walls that I’m sure were originals. Everything in this place was of the finest quality; not a single expense must have been spared when they built this house and decorated it.
“Ellie. Ellie Goldstein… Is that you, dear?” I heard a woman’s voice behind me.
I swiveled around to find Jane Beauchamp looking at me bright-eyed and smiling. The middle-aged woman wore a silver knee-length capped sleeve dress and her red hair was pulled up into a Russian twist. She looked a decade older than when I’d seen her last. Well, it had been a decade since I saw her last. But she still had those kind hazel eyes I adored, and her presence still made me feel I was the most precious person on the planet.
“Jane!” I exclaimed. She was our nanny for one summer when I was twelve. My parents were on vacation in Sweden, and an old friend of the family as she was, she had been talked into taking the job. She was the dearest woman I’d ever known.
Beside her stood her husband, George, a serious man with no sense of humor whatsoever, a man of few words and seemingly void of caring about anyone other than himself. They were as opposite as black and white, but they complemented each other, I supposed. Before she met the millionaire real estate tycoon, Jane was a schoolteacher. But once they’d tied the knot, he convinced her to quit and open an art gallery, which proved to become very successful.
“What on earth are you doing here, my sweet Ellie?” She looked more shocked than surprised, as if I was somehow out of place.
“I’m here with a… er… a friend,” I decided on. “What are you doing here?”
“We’re here to help raise money for the Make-a-Wish Foundation,” Jane said. “Gordon King invited us. We’re old friends of his.”
“And new friends of mine,” Spencer said, walking into our intimate circle.
“Spencer King. Good evening.” Jane offered him a hand, although I did pick up on her reluctance. “Have you met Ellie Goldstein? She’s a dear friend of our family.”
“Indeed, I have,” Spencer said. “She’s my date tonight.” He wrapped an arm around my waist as if claiming me. I breathed him in, reminding myself to ignore the way he made my body come alive.
Jane looked shocked for a moment, as if the thought of us being on a date was preposterous. She quickly composed herself.
“That’s… that’s splendid,” Jane said, although I could sense her disapproval. Why did she disapprove, I wondered? Did she know what an asshole Spencer was?
“Indeed,” Spencer said.
“Oh, and please do forgive me for bringing this up here, but I haven’t been able to offer you my condolences,” Jane said to me. “It was such a loss when we heard your father had passed. It’s about a year ago by now, is it?”
“A year ago, today,” I said. I couldn’t even manage to force a faint smile with my suddenly feeble voice.
The energy in our small gathering dropped like a brick and an unwelcome lump formed in my throat. Suddenly, the oxygen in the room seemed to have vanished. I needed to get outside quick to draw some air. I had to find a quiet place before the tears came. There were too many people here who used to know my dad and I was suddenly realizing that they could all potentially ask me about him and offer my condolences. I wasn’t prepared for this. I just wanted to go meet my mom and Rose so we could grieve in peace. Why the hell was I even here? I shouldn’t have been. I didn’t want to be.
“Excuse me.” I handed Spencer my empty champagne flute and walked away. I opened the glass door leading to the balcony and closed it behind me. There were a couple of guests outside but none that I recognized, so I was hopeful that they’d leave me alone.
I meandered over to the end of the balcony and leaned on the stone railing, drawing in a deep breath. The backyard seemed to go on for miles and miles, with red rose bushes. The lawn was stunning, the trees in perfect lines, the pathways intricately designed. I felt I had stepped into the backyard of some king, not of an asshole.
“Ellie!” I heard Spencer’s voice behind me. I closed my eyes just hoping he’d go away. Of all the people here tonight, of all the people on the entire planet, I didn’t want to discuss my dad with him.
When I opened my eyes, he was leaning his elbows on the railing. His biceps bulged beneath his suit coat and he smelled like sin. Why did he have to be so ridiculously attractive? And why did my body ignite into a million electrified butterflies whenever he came within a hundred feet of me? I couldn’t even grieve in peace when he was around because all I could focus on was th