Page 56 of Parker
“Why not?” I replied sexily, then ran my fingers across his crotch. He hardened beneath my touch. “You own the company, do you not?”
“Yes, but…”
“You’re the boss. You can do whatever you like.
And whoever you like.” I’d unbuttoned the simple white shirt I was wearing, then slid it from my shoulders, exposing the see-through lace bra beneath.
“Lock the door. I want you to give me an unforgettable welcome to America.” His eyes had darted between the unlocked door and my breasts.
His frame moved frantically to secure it.
On returning to stand in front of me, he picked up my discarded clothing from the floor, handing it to me.
“Violet, what are you doing here? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? Put your clothes back on,” he barked, his face contorted in anger.
“I wanted to surprise you,” I said petulantly as I shrugged into my shirt.
“You’ve fucking managed that,” he growled in my ear as he pulled me closer to him. “Fuck, I’ve missed you. Two weeks without you is too long.” His arms wrapped around my waist, holding on tight.
“You won’t have to worry about that anymore,” I told him, and he looked at me warily.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m here to stay. I’ve packed my belongings, handed my notice to the school, and told my family I’m moving to be with the man I love.
” His jaw dropped spectacularly, almost hitting the floor.
“Don’t worry, I haven’t told my father it’s you.
” My fingers stroked his cheek in comfort. “I know you’re worried.”
“Your father is one of my biggest clients. I can’t risk him pulling the contract. It will put dozens of staff out of work. You should have told me your plans. This is all very sudden.” I blinked at him, shocked by his harsh tone. When I didn’t respond, he sighed and asked, “Where are you staying?”
“With you of course, silly. I’ll be keeping your bed warm every day,” I purred. In an attempt to lighten the mood, I hooked one leg around his, grinding against him.
“You can’t stay with me, Violet,” he said firmly and stepped back out of my embrace.
“Why not?” I snapped. My heart was straining at the lack of enthusiasm my appearance received. “You have an apartment in the city, do you not? You told me you wanted to have a life together once I finished school. Now I’m done, I’m here.”
“I said once you graduated. I didn’t ask you to throw your career away to move here.
You can’t stay at my apartment. That’s my personal space.
We’ve only been seeing each other for one year.
You’ve appeared here out of the blue. I’m sorry, but no.
” He fixed his gaze on me, his eyes narrowed as if daring me to challenge him.
It was obvious he wasn’t going to be convinced otherwise.
I sniffed loudly, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to fall as my anger morphed into despair. In my mind, our reunion had been so much more. My huge romantic gesture had fallen flat.
He lifted his hands to my shoulders, sensing my distress.
His eyes never left mine. “It’s all right, Princess,” he said.
“I’ll get you checked into a hotel nearby.
Then we can meet later for dinner and discuss moving forward.
” I gave him a sad smile. He walked back to his desk, then pressed the button on his intercom.
The machine rang out before a polite woman’s voice echoed around the room.
“Mr. Marley, how can I help you sir?” she said.
“Stephanie, can you contact the Four Seasons and see if they have any rooms available, please? Make it a suite. I have a friend visiting from the UK, and they haven’t sorted out any accommodations. Please put it on my card.”
“Of course, sir. Is there anything else?”
“Please call a taxi to take Miss Chase to the hotel. She’ll be down in the lobby in a few minutes. Any problems, do let me know.”
“Yes, sir,” she said and hung up.
Aiden walked back over to me and took my face between his hands. His azure-blue eyes pinned me to the spot as he dropped a kiss onto my lips. “You really are a bad girl, Princess. What on earth am I going to do with you?”
I ruffled his overly long dark hair between my fingers. The sting of him referring to me as only his friend fresh in my mind.
“You go to the hotel, rest, then freshen up. I’ll be over this evening. We can discuss your future living arrangements then.”
“Tell me you’re happy I’m here,” I whispered, my confidence knocked by his lukewarm reception. “I love you, Aiden. I want to be with you.”
“I’m happy you’re here,” he said and kissed me again before leading me to the door.
“I’ll see you later.” As he opened it, his hand dropped from my waist. He called to the woman behind a desk to see me out, then stepped back before there could be any further contact between us. It stung then—it still hurts me now.
As I think back to that day all those years ago now, it’s clear all the red flags were there from the moment I arrived in Chicago.
But at only nineteen years old and blinded by love, I’d taken his word as the truth.
After a few weeks of staying in the hotel, I’d been moved into an apartment around the corner from his office.
He would stay with me most nights during the week then disappear at weekends to have time alone or in preparation for business meetings.
On key holidays, he could never be with me.
“Advertising never stops,” he would say.
“I can’t be distracted at these crucial times. ”
During my second year living in America, he encouraged me to join an amateur drama group. I threw myself into the club with gusto and appeared in every performance I could. Suddenly, I wasn’t missing him on weekends as they were filled with singing, dancing, and cheering crowds.
So, life bumbled on—during the week we were madly in love, living together, eating in private restaurants, and making love in every room of our apartment.
On holidays and weekends, I was a performer.
Anytime I mentioned our future, or the possibility of marriage and starting a family, he would shrug it off.
His excuse was that we were not born to follow convention.
Our relationship was private. He didn’t want to share me with the world; I was only his.
I believed him. I always believed him. Now, I feel so stupid.
Over a decade of my life was gone, an obscene length of time to live a lie blinded by a man who had no respect for me.
I move to sit on the corner sofa, needing a moment to collect my thoughts before I face my brothers for the first time in over a decade.
Before I tell them the whole sorry tale of how I’ve ended up here, on their doorstep, after disappearing from my family to run after a man I thought loved me.
The chances of my return being a happy one are slight—if I’m honest, most likely non-existent.
My family members hold grudges, and traitors are seen as scum.
My stomach flips at the thought of the worst-case scenario.
Tonight, I may be on the streets if the next few hours turn sour.
***
Three days ago, I’d been sitting in my apartment drinking my morning coffee. The local news playing in the background as I scrolled aimlessly on my phone. I heard his name announced before I saw him.
Aiden Marley, the new owner of the Chicago White Sox baseball team, has arrived at his new business , the reporter said with enthusiasm.
Mr. Marley took ownership of the club one hour ago.
This deal has been two years in the making and is an exciting development for the club.
Mr. Marley has made his fortune within the advertising industry.
He is a private man who is very rarely seen at public events.
But with this newest purchase, I expect we’ll be seeing a lot more of him.
He is joined today by his wife of fifteen years, his childhood sweetheart, Marissa Marley.
The couple have been together twenty years and have two young sons, who you can see playing catch behind them.
If they weren't avid White Sox fans, they will be now.
The reporter snorted at his own joke as I gaped at the screen.
I watched my Aiden walking up the steps to the stadium with his arm around a beautiful blonde woman.
Two boys around the age of eight skipped behind them, waving to the crowd.
The family then disappeared into the building and the news cut to a story about trash collecting in the area.
I grabbed for the remote control and rewound the program, rewatching the scene I witnessed only moments ago. He’s married. He has children. And I never knew. Shame engulfed me as the realization hit that I was the other woman.
***
The elevator sounding its arrival makes me glance up. Matthew from the foyer steps out, accompanied by another man. They’re talking to each other, laughing as they speak. As they walk into the reception area, both sets of eyes fall on me.
“Ms. Chase,” Matthew says, “I thought you’d got lost when I hadn’t heard from you. I wanted to check you were all right and had found your brothers.”
“Sorry, I was taking a moment to myself,” I say apologetically, shaking my head.
“No harm done,” he replies. “I believe you know this gentleman.”
“Yes,” I stammer, shocked by his appearance. Matthew nods, then returns to the elevator, waving as he disappears from view. I’m left staring at a man, a man I’ve not seen for as long as my family.
Harrison Waite stands before me in a sharp gray suit.
His dark hair is styled precisely, not a strand out of place.
His shrewd eyes look me over, then he cocks his head to one side and gives me a panty-wetting smile.
“Violet Chase, long time no see. What brings you to the City of London dressed like you’re ready to play baseball? ”
Unable to speak, I mumble something incoherent to him. Not only is he my brother’s best friend, but he is also a partner in the law firm they share.
The last time I saw Harrison Waite was the night I lost my virginity.