God, I hate him!
With a sigh, I grab my handbag, pick up my phone, text Ritchie, Dad, and Charlie the same message, and then make my way to the living area. I see Anthony sitting with Devon, who doesn’t look pleased. His frown and the way he rubs his forehead make that much quite clear. When I appear, they both look up, and their mouths hang open in shock. If I wasn’t still angry, I would have found the scene quite comical.
“Hey, what’s taking you so… Holy shit! Andi?” Mark stands in the doorway, looking just as shocked as the others. Once that subsides, his eyes travel the length of my body. He licks his lips. “Damn, woman. Where have you been hiding? I didn’t even know you had legs.”
Devon suddenly turns to Mark. “Shut the fuck up!”
Now it’s my turn to widen my eyes. Devon turns back to me and sees the fury on my face. I start walking toward the front door. “I’m going to the bar.”
I brush past Mark, feeling his eyes following me. “Do you want me to come with you?”
I shrug. “Suit yourself.”
“Andi, you can’t go out—”
I turn to face Devon. “What? I can’t go out without your permission now? The great Devon fucking Jackson forbids his PA to go for a drink and something to eat? What am I supposed to do? Starve to death unless you tell me I can eat?”
He sucks in a breath. He’s definitely not used to me talking to him like this. “No, I didn’t mean it like that. If you’re hungry, let me—”
I shake my head. “No, I don’t want you anywhere near me, Mr Jackson.” I make a point of accentuating his name so he knows just how much of an arse he’s been. I suspect he still wants me to call him that, even after everything.
When his nostrils flare, I know I’ve hit a nerve. I can tell he wants to say something, but he doesn’t budge. Maybe it’s because we have an audience.
“Okay, you don’t want me near you, but at least stay in the hotel. Order what you want and charge it to the room.”
I laugh. “Oh, you bet your arse I will.”
I turn and start walking again. I don’t want to be near Devon anymore. He’s bad for my body, bad for my mind, bad for my heart. He’s an unhealthy dose I’m drowning in too much lately. I need to distance myself from him. It’s Saturday night, for fuck’s sake. I’m young, free, and single. I base one hundred percent of my life around Devon and his company. It’s unhealthy. I can see that now.
I’ve reached my limit.
“You’re quite the little firecracker, aren’t you?” As we stand at the lift, waiting, I can’t help but smile at Mark’s comment. It’s not his fault his boss is such an arsehole. “See, that’s better. I thought I had lost happy Andi for a moment.” I sigh. “Are you okay?”
I shake my head. “Honestly, no, but I will be. I think ordering a drink will help improve my mood.” The lift doors open. We walk in and press the button for the foyer.
“Well, we can certainly do that. After being a lawyer for Devon for the last five years, I’ve certainly gotten a handle on the guy’s wealth. He can more than afford to spend a little bit on his loyal PA of the last year. You’ve been good to him, Andi.”
Feeling my anger subside a little, I smile. “Thanks. I only wish he felt the same way.”
The lift doors open again and we walk toward the bar area.
“He does. He just has this fucked-up way of showing it. I think he’s too busy fighting something in his head.”
I frown, looking at him. “What do you mean?”
Mark lets out a chuckle. “Let’s just say he doesn’t like to show he cares. He doesn’t want to come across as weak.”
I laugh at the thought as a waiter approaches. “Good evening. Would you like to eat this evening?”
Mark nods. “Yes. Two, please. We’d also like your most expensive champagne.”
The waiter’s eyes widen as he smiles. “Of course. Please, follow me. I will get you a nice table.”
As he leads us through the bar, Mark leans toward me. “It’s amazing how much money talks.”
I laugh again, immediately feeling the tension leave me. “Yes, it is.”
“Is this table to your liking?” the waiter asks.
It’s a nice little table for two tucked away in the corner. It’s very intimate, so I guess the waiter assumes we’re a couple. I just shrug. “This is fine. Thank you.”
The waiter nods, pulling a chair out for me. Mark takes the seat opposite and smiles. “You really do look quite stunning, Andi.”
My heart warms at his compliment. “Thank you.”
The waiter hands us our menus. “I will be right over with that champagne.” He walks off.
“It looks expensive here. Oh, my god. Look. The steak is a hundred dollars, and that’s without all the trimmings.”
Mark laughs. “Well, Devon can more than afford it. I think with all the hard work you put in, it’s the least he could do.”
I shake my head, exasperated. “I sometimes feel like he doesn’t think I work hard enough. I keep thinking, any day now, he’ll fire me for something. He never does, despite the fact he keeps telling me I do things wrong.”
Mark places his elbows on the table, leaning forward. “That’s because he has the hots for you.”
I giggle at how preposterous that sounds. “Don’t be silly.”
Shrugging, Mark leans back. “It’s true. He cares more than you think, and right there is the problem. He doesn’t want to feel it, but he does. Not to mention the fact that he would be completely lost without you.” He pauses a moment. “When was the last time you had a holiday, or even a day off?”
I laugh sarcastically. “What are those?”
Mark smirks. “Exactly.”
The waiter comes back over with our champagne. He opens and pours it, then takes our orders. We both opt for the steak.
“Are you dating anyone?”
After taking a sip of my champagne, I look at Mark. “Not really. I’ve tried going out on a date a couple times. The first one was okay, but the second one was … interrupted.”
Mark frowns. “What happened?”
I raise my eyebrow. “Devon happened. He showed up at the restaurant and demanded I come back to the office with him. He came up with the excuse that he couldn’t access my computer or some shit, and he needed me to send his résumé and an acquisition letter.” I can tell Mark is shocked. His face says it all.
“Didn’t you tell him beforehand that you were going on a date?”
I nod. “He knew I had a date well before I went out.”
Mark shakes his head. “Holy hell! That man is a possessive nutcase.”
I huff. “Or he just likes control.”
Mark gives me a wry smile. “Yes, control of you.”
“I’m not sure it’s that—”
“Why don’t you dress like this at work?”
My eyes widen. “This dress is not what you would call appropriate for work.”
Mark sniggers and leans forward. “I know that. That’s not what I mean. What I mean is that you always hide yourself. Not once have I seen you look so … so …” he looks me up and down once more, “elegantly beautiful.” He winks. “And sexy … definitely sexy.”
I lean back in my chair and regard Mark for a moment. “Mr Jackson likes me to look presentable in the office.”
Mark rolls his eyes. “Mr Jackson likes to control anything and everything when it involves Miss Bellingham.” I frown. “Oh, come on, Andi. Even if you can’t see it, I certainly can. He tries to hide you from the world by making you dress in something suitable for a sixty-year-old, interrupts your dates so you’re not seeing anyone, and damn near fell off his chair tonight when he saw you in that dress. How much more proof do you need?”
My posture perks up a little. “He’s best mates with my brother, who has always been very protective of me. They’re exactly the same in that regard.”
Mark chuckles. “Yes, but was it your brother who interrupted your date? No, it was Devon.??
?
Closing my eyes, I try and come to grips with what Mark said. “I’ve known Devon for years. He just sees me as Charlie’s dorky little sister.”
Mark huffs, picks up his champagne glass, and motions it toward me. “You keep telling yourself that, sweetheart.”
I wake up with a groan. My head feels like someone’s decided to play the maracas on it. “Shit.” Did it have to be so bright in this room? I’m too scared to open my eyes, so I try going over what happened last night. I remember being mad at Devon and storming off, then going to dinner with Mark, eating fantastic steak, and drinking lots of champagne. I then remember going to the bar where we danced our arses off. Mark is a pretty good dancer.
Slowly, I open my eyes.
“I do hope you take these on a regular basis.”
“What the fu—” I shoot up in shock, grabbing my head, seeing my arrogant prick of a boss standing next to my bed holding my contraceptive pills. “How dare you go through my—”
“Well, do you?”
Closing my eyes, I shake my head. I’m way too hung-over for this shit. “What?”
He sighs, dropping the pills onto my bed. “Do you take these on a regular basis?”
“Why do you want to know?” I can’t help but push him. He needs to address what he did last night.
Devon cranes his neck to one side, then the other. He looks seriously stressed out, but also seriously hot in those pair of navy khaki’s and crisp white shirt.
“You know exactly why I’m asking. Don’t make me spell it out.”
Placing my finger to my temple, I gently tap it. “I don’t know. My memory is a little foggy. You’ll have to refresh it.”
Devon, clearly unimpressed, leans forward with a heated stare. “I won’t have to remind you because the memory of you shaking in my arms while you had the best orgasm of your entire life won’t ever leave your head.”
Wow.
Trying to compose myself, I ask, “Why did you do it?”
He frowns. “What?”
“Why did you throw me up against the wall and—”
“Fuck your brains out? Is that what you want me to say?” I simply nod. He sighs. “Maybe I was just in the mood. You drive me fucking crazy at times. You obviously needed a good shag. Maybe it will calm you down a little.”
Throwing the covers off, I storm off to the toilet.
“Andi, where are you going? You haven’t answered my ques—”
I slam the bathroom door and sit on the toilet. As I’m in mid-stream, the door opens. “Devon, what the fuck are you doing? I’m on the toilet here.”
Holding my pills in front of my face, he ignores me. “Are you taking these regularly? Don’t make me ask you again.”
Once I finish, I wipe myself, not caring that he’s standing there. If he doesn’t care, neither do I. Once I flush, I start pulling my knickers up, Devon watching me. I notice the little flare of his nostrils as I slide them back up my thighs slowly. His eyes are intent on my body, igniting something in me it shouldn’t. I’m supposed to be angry with him, goddammit!
Knowing he’s expecting an answer, I cross my arms over my chest. I need to in order to hide my erect nipples. Not that it’s any use because he noticed that, too. “Yes, I do take them regularly. Are you happy now?”
He visibly sighs before running a hand through his hair. “No, I’m not fucking happy. What happened last night shouldn’t have happened and will never happen again. Do you understand me?”
I nod. “Yes. I understand you. I understand you perfectly.”
He looks away as if in disgust with himself. He’s not only pissed off that we had sex last night, but also because he did it without using a condom.
“Good,” he simply states. He looks at me, his gaze landing on my shoulder. He closes his eyes, as if trying to control his temper.
Wanting to look, I walk to the mirror, moving my hair out of the way. I wince. I hadn’t realised just how much Devon sucked the life out of me last night. I was so caught up in the moment that all I could think about was how much pleasure he'd given me.
“Was this intentional?” I ask.
I watch his nostrils flare again. “What is that supposed to mean?”
I point to the bruised area on my shoulder. “This …” Turning around to face him, I place my hands against the sink. “Did you do that on purpose?”
He laughs before leaning closer. “Do you seriously think I would want to mark someone like you? I was drunk, pissed off, and hadn’t had a decent shag in ages. You were just … there. Don’t let what happened go to your head. You’re nothing special.”
I see the slight sneer in his face, which makes my eyes sting with tears. “You can tell me last night was a mistake, but you don’t have to be so cruel about it, Devon.”
He leans even farther forward and his aftershave hits my nostrils. “It’s sometimes necessary to get my point across.”
“Your point was made loud and clear a couple minutes ago when you told me it was a mistake. Trust me. Nobody knows that better than I do.”
“Good. And clean yourself up. You stink of alcohol.” He turns to walk to the bathroom door. Once there, he looks back at me. “One more thing. It’s Mr fucking Jackson to you.” He walks out, virtually slamming the door behind him.
“Fucking twat!” I shout more to myself than him. Shit, my head is pounding.
As his cruel words hit me again, the tears threaten. I turn around, clutching onto the sink, and take a look at myself in the mirror. I don’t have my contacts in, but I see enough to know how I look. My long hair is matted and puffed out, my eyes bloodshot from all the drinking, my skin pale. For a split second, I feel damn right sorry for myself, but then I remember what a cock Devon is. He would like nothing more than to make me feel as small as I do right now.
I won’t stand for it.
Taking a deep breath, I push myself off the sink, down two painkillers for my headache, and head for the shower. It’s just what I need because after a few minutes of standing under the spray, my headache is almost gone and I feel revitalised.
Once I’m out and wrapped in a towel, I check my phone. I’ve missed several messages from Ritchie, my dad, and Charlie. I ring my dad. Luckily, Charlie is also there, so I’m able to speak with them both. I tell them I’m having a wonderful time.
Lie.
I also tell them that New York is beautiful—which is the truth even though I haven’t seen much of it yet—and that the hotel I’m staying in is extremely luxurious.
Once I finish with them, I video chat with Ritchie through Facebook. He answers on the second ring.
“I was starting to worry about you, sweet-cheeks. I see you’re teasing me with your wetness again.” He waggles his eyebrows, making me laugh.
“I just got out of the shower. I have a horrendous hangover.”
He leans in closer to the screen. “Did my virginal friend get laid last night?”
I smirk at his obvious joke, but nothing about what happened last night is funny. Plumping my pillows up, I lay back on the bed with a sigh. “Last night was … complicated.”
“Uh-oh. I don’t like the sound of that. Something happened, didn’t it? Did that scumbag boss of yours get you to do a ton of things for him the moment you landed?”
I bite my lip, wondering if I should tell him. I need to tell someone, though; otherwise, I’m going to burst.
“The flight went okay, the journey to the hotel went okay, but when we checked in, everything went downhill.”
“Oh dear. What happened?”
“The hotel screwed up with the booking, but Devon blamed me. When the hotel realised their mistake, they were very apologetic and gave us one night for free. However, Devon never apologised for jumping to conclusions, so I stormed off.” I sigh. “I headed straight for the shower to cool off, but once out, I remembered I had left my phone in my bag in the living area. When I went to retrieve it, Devon grabbed me.”
Ritchie suddenly looks anxi
ous. “Did he hurt you?”
Shaking my head, I huff. “No. Quite the opposite in fact.”
Ritchie frowns. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means that Devon, and I hate to admit this, gave me the best sex I have ever had.”
Ritchie’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head. “You have got to be shitting me?” When I shake my head, he slaps his leg, laughing hysterically. “I knew Mr Condom had the hots for you!”
I let out a sarcastic laugh. “You couldn’t be further from the truth. He only did it because he, and I quote, ‘needed a good shag.’ The man is an arsehole. He’s already told me it will never happen again. He was also drunk.”
“Yes, but you know people normally let their guard down when they’re drunk. The way they really feel always comes out.”
Looking down at my dressing gown, I shake my head. “No, I don’t think it’s that.”
“Oh, come on, Andi. When are you going to finally wake up and smell the coffee? It’s obvious to me that he’s always felt something he shouldn’t for you, but he’s kept it hidden. Now that you’ve gotten angry with him, his frustration level has hit heights that have caused him to lose control. I reckon the alcohol must have helped him, but only in the sense that the truth has finally revealed itself.”
I chew on my lip. A part of me would love to think that’s the truth, but another part of me remembers all the shit he’s said to me over the past year—especially this morning. Then I go right back to thinking about what an arsehole he is again.
I take in a deep breath and manoeuvre myself to a more comfortable position. “I don’t know what it is, Ritchie, but I’m tired of trying to decipher that man. All I want to concentrate on today is doing some sightseeing.”
Ritchie gasps. “Don’t forget to take lots of pictures.”
I smirk. “I won’t.”
“Okay. I’d better let you go, but I just want to say one thing before you do.”