Page 7 of Break Even


  She nods. “Good. It looks like he brought you something. I’m dying to see what it is.”

  Before I can ask another question, she disappears. It’s been two days since I last saw River. My proposal to the city passed easily. He got what he wanted, and I got him out of my life. Or at least I thought I did.

  Not even ten seconds later, he walks in. Business-only River disappeared only to be replaced with the casual version—blue jeans, a fitted gray T-shirt, and simple black shoes. His hair is spiked, and there’s no hiding the tattoos that cover his arms.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask, sitting back in my chair.

  He lifts a blue gift bag. “I wanted to be the first person to wish you a happy birthday.”

  I lift a brow. “You’re a day early.”

  “Exactly.”

  “I thought you’d be long gone by now,” I admit.

  He sits across from me, setting the bag on the corner of my desk. “I need to stay in town for a couple weeks and get the architects going on the new plans. It’s easier to do from here.”

  “I’m glad it’s all working out,” I say honestly. “I’d hate to think I spent one day as Mrs. Holtz for nothing.”

  He winks. “You could have gotten something more out of it if you asked me.”

  “Lines, River.”

  “I don’t see them, Marley.” He says my name quietly, slowly letting the last syllable slip from his tongue. His eyes lock with mine. They hold me, and when I try to look away, I can’t.

  “Are you going to open the bag?” he asks.

  I shake myself out of the trance. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

  “I know.”

  Out of curiosity, I take the bag and set it on my lap. It’s light, but I don’t even try to guess what it is. I look up one more time to see him studying me, then pull the white tissue paper from the bag. Reaching inside, I pull out a soft white T-shirt that reads: “Start with coffee. End with wine.” I actually smile at something River Holtz has done; he just met me, but he already gets me better than most.

  “You drink more coffee than most people drink water, and after I saw what missing wine night with the girls did to you Tuesday, I figured it was the least I could do,” he says as I fold it and tuck it carefully back in the bag.

  “Thank you. I mean it.” Meaningful gifts are hard to come by.

  “There’s actually one other thing,” he announces. “I’d like you to be my guest at the club tonight. The same one where you met me last time. One of the top DJs in the world is flying in, and I feel bad you haven’t gotten drunk yet this week.”

  “Who says I haven’t gotten drunk this week?”

  His eyes widen, daring me to lie to him. All I can do is roll mine. Cole has been gone all week. I’ve done absolutely nothing but stay at the office late then go home and work on my cases a little bit more. My soul is slowly slipping from between my fingers.

  “I’ll go with you, but I really shouldn’t stay out too late.”

  He grins. “Will you let me pick you up this time without an argument?”

  “Why does that matter?” I ask, starting to throw a few things in my bag for my next meeting.

  “Because I’ll end up driving you home anyway.”

  He said he’d pick me up at ten, and he does. Right on schedule. It just couldn’t come at a worse time because Cole actually called me. River comes to the door, but I open it before he gets a chance to ring the bell. I hold one hand over the phone while I motion that I need one more minute.

  “So, do you think you’re going to wrap up the case this week?” I ask after Cole runs through all the briefs he’s been working on. There’s a pause on the other end—not long, but long enough for me to know my life of loneliness isn’t ending just yet.

  “It’s going to be at least another week. Maybe two.”

  I sigh, pressing my forehead to the door. This is getting old fast.

  “Promise me you won’t take another case like this for a while.”

  “If I would have known this would take as long as it has, I wouldn’t have done it. But I’m hundreds of hours into it. I can’t quit now.”

  “Just promise me, Cole.” I envision him pacing his hotel room hundreds of miles away.

  “I’ll try, baby, but when opportunities like this present themselves, we have to take them. It’s how we’re going to bring the firm to the next level.”

  I run my fingers through my long hair. Our ideals are slipping further apart. “I need better than that.”

  “What if I promise not to take any more out-of-town projects for the next few months? Can we discuss it again after that?”

  That’s better than it has been. “That sounds like a compromise.”

  “Good.” I hear the smile in his voice. He didn’t exactly win, but I didn’t either.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow then,” I say.

  “I should land around three. Wear that white dress you bought a few weeks ago.” I smile at the thought of him ripping it off me after dinner. I smile at the thought of a weekend of sex—birthday sex.

  It’s not until I’m walking to River’s waiting car that it hits me he didn’t ask anything about my week, but I shake it off, reminding myself I’m not the one out of town working on a big case. Our life hasn’t been about me for a while. Sometimes, I feel like a supporting character in his life.

  “I’d usually leave a woman for shrugging me off,” River comments as I climb into the passenger seat of his sports car.

  “I knew you weren’t going anywhere.”

  “How could you be so sure?”

  I look over at him, watching the way his muscles tug at his shirt as he shifts. “You asked me to come with you, and you drove all the way here, which I know is at least thirty minutes out of your way. That’s an awful lot of work to go through just to leave.”

  “You look beautiful,” he says, quickly glancing in my direction. “I would have told you that earlier, if you hadn’t been on the phone.”

  I glance down at my strapless black cocktail dress that hits mid-thigh. If I get one more nightclub invite, I’m going to have to decline, because I’m out of things to wear. It’s not my usual scene.

  “Don’t let your head explode, but you don’t look bad yourself.” He’s dressed in black slacks and a black button-up, rolled to his elbows. Tattoos are out loud and proud again.

  The rest of the ride is filled with small talk. We talk about music and movies and our lives growing up. For thirty minutes, he doesn’t cross the line.

  As we come to a stop in front of the club, the valet helps me out, and then takes the keys from River. While this isn’t my scene, it doesn’t feel as scary as it did last time. The company isn’t as scary either.

  River’s hand rests on my lower back, guiding me forward. We pass through all the regular lines, catching stares along the way. I wonder how often he brings women here, or if he ever brings women here. His arm wraps around me, pulling me close so I can hear him. “Let’s have a drink or two at the bar.”

  I nod. Two might not be enough. “No VIP tonight?”

  He leans in again. “I don’t know about you, but I feel like dancing. A woman should always dance on her birthday.”

  My body temperature rises just thinking about the last time we danced. The ways he touched me. “Maybe just a few songs.”

  The bartender serves us immediately. That doesn’t surprise me, but the fact that River remembers exactly what I like to drink does. Our drinks arrive, and we put them down quickly, waiting for another round.

  “You’re different than any other woman I’ve ever met,” he says, lips curling around his second glass.

  “How’s that?”

  Even with his lips pressed to the glass, I see the hint of a smile. “You’re smart, clever, but you’re also a little feisty. I rarely find a woman who’s the latter, especially around me.”

  “Do you usually meet women in your clubs? I’m no relationship expert, but I don’t th
ink things that start in the club last.”

  He laughs, finishing off the rest of his drink. “Yes to the club, but the rest doesn’t matter because I’m not looking for a relationship.”

  “Don’t you want to have kids some day?”

  He shakes his head. “My father was a piece of shit. I’d be like a motherfucking doctor who never went to medical school. Kids deserve better than that.”

  “I’ve been told you learn as you go.”

  “Do you want kids? You’ve been married long enough from the sounds of it.”

  I throw back the rest of my drink. I’m the one who led us into these waters, and I’m going to have to paddle myself out. “I’d love to have two kids. The right time just hasn’t come for me.” I twirl my empty glass on my napkin, thinking of a diversion. An up-tempo Calvin Harris remix starts to play. “Ready to dance?”

  The cocky grin is back. “Are you asking me to dance?”

  “I believe I did.”

  In a quick motion, he pulls me from the barstool by wrapping his arm around my waist. “Show me what you got.”

  I bite down on my lower lip as I allow him to move us through the crowd. The alcohol flows through my veins, calming the nervous energy that flows through my body. He leads me to an open spot near the DJ booth, surprising me by standing behind me with his arm wrapped around my waist. It’s not necessarily inappropriate, but it’s not within my comfort zone either. After a few seconds, I relax, moving my hips in a similar rhythm as his. His hand splays against my stomach, pulling me closer.

  I lose myself in him—nothing else matters. Nothing enters my mind but the sound of the music, and the way River’s body molds to mine makes me feel weightless.

  I quickly lose track of time. Sweat soaks my dress and hair, but I’m not ready to stop. This is equivalent to months of therapy. This is what I want for my life—laughing, dancing, and having a good time. I’m not Marley Mason. I’m not sure who I am when I’m with River.

  “I need to run up to my office for a few minutes,” he whispers against my ear between songs. “Come with me.”

  “Only if you promise me another dance before you drive me home.”

  “I’ll promise you anything you want, birthday girl.”

  When he grabs hold of my hand to lead me through the crowd, I don’t even flinch.

  “Where’s your office?” I yell over the music.

  “One level above VIP. There’s not one part of this club you can’t see from up there.”

  We take the winding steps up to VIP, then head down a short hallway to another set. Once upstairs, he unlocks the door and ushers me inside. It’s enormous, with its own lounge area and an oversized desk—a space fit for River.

  As he heads over to thumb through some papers on his desk, I walk to the wall of windows overlooking the shining lights of Miami. I fold my arms to chase the goose bumps away. His office is an icebox compared to the dance floor.

  Before long, his warm body is behind mine again, his hands running up and down my cold arms. “Quite the view, isn’t it?”

  I nod. “It’s too bad you didn’t turn this into condos. I know people who would pay a lot of money for this.”

  “Housing isn’t really my thing. Maybe when I get older and want to slow down. If it makes you feel any better, I have a bedroom up here for the nights I don’t feel like heading home.”

  “Or the nights you find a girl?” I tease, but mostly to test his reaction.

  His arms envelop me, his chin resting on top of my head. I’m married, but I also don’t want him to stop. He fills a void left by a husband who’s never around, even when I’m in the same room as him.

  River has asked more questions. River has shown me more affection. I know it’s wrong, but it makes me feel better. River Holtz is becoming my drug. He slowly spins me around in his arms, looking down into my eyes as he walks us back until I’m pressed to the window. The intensity in his eyes could set the world on fire.

  “What would you say if I said I was going to kiss you right now?” he asks, resting his finger under my chin.

  I swallow hard. “I’d say I have a ring on my finger. That my ideals on marriage and fidelity are the same as yours.”

  He closes the distance between us, his breath hitting my lips. “Then why are you here, Marley?”

  Why am I here? I could have learned enough about this case without coming. I wanted to be here. I wanted to be with River.

  “Because I’m lonely. Because the only time I’ve felt alive in a long time is when I’m arguing with you.”

  “Let me kiss you.”

  “All that stuff you said about wedding rings—”

  “I’m not wearing one,” he interrupts.

  “I can’t.”

  His lips move next to my ear, brushing my skin as he speaks. “But you want to...”

  Seconds pass. The truth plays in my head. The lies tangle on my tongue.

  And then his lips crash into mine, his strong body pressing me against the window. His forearms rest against the glass, framing my face. I’m numb—motionless—but the harder he presses, the harder it is for my body to ignore him.

  He brushes his tongue along the seam of my lips. Then I completely melt, parting mine to get just a taste. Whiskey. He tastes just like whiskey. Every part of me is aware of the energy that radiates through my veins. Goose bumps break out all over my arms and neck. He adds a glimmer of light to my life where one hasn’t been in a long time.

  Just as I’m ready to lose more of myself in him, he pulls his lips away, touching his forehead to mine. “Give me one night. I’d remind you what it’s like to be fucked again. You deserve better than what you’ve got, Marley. So much better.”

  “Are you saying you’re the guy who’s going to make everything better?” I whisper, placing my trembling hands against his chest.

  He cups my cheeks. “I’m not the guy, but I’d like to be the one to show you what you’re missing.” As he stares down at me, I realize I’m looking at glassy blue eyes not sapphire eyes. This man isn’t my husband. He’s not the one I promised my heart, body, and soul to four years ago. He’s not mine, and I don’t belong to him.

  I grip his wrists, pulling his hands from my cheeks. “I need to go home.”

  “Marley—”

  “No!” I push at his chest just enough to escape, running straight to the door. “This is wrong. I’ve never done anything like this, and it’s just … just wrong.”

  “Don’t go.” His voice is smooth yet stern.

  I stop with my hand splayed against the door. “I have to.”

  Before I have a chance to escape, his arm wraps around my waist, pulling me back against his chest. His hand slides up against the fabric of my dress, his thumb brushing the underside of my breast. My head falls back against his shoulder. It’s easy to get caught up in him. “You want this. You know you want this,” he whispers, lips grazing my hair.

  His thumb brushes against my other breast. An ache builds between my legs, and all the reasons I can’t be here come flooding back. River is making feel things I shouldn’t be. A married woman shouldn’t be lusting over another man, let alone have his hands all over her. My issues with Cole don’t justify this.

  “Stop!” I yell, wriggling out of his grasp, my back pressed against the wall. “I need to go.”

  “You’re making a mistake.”

  I shake my head slowly, convincing myself as much as him. “No … no I’m not.”

  He sighs, running his fingers across his forehead. “At least let me take you home.”

  “No. I don’t think we should see each other anymore, not after tonight. I’ll catch a cab.” I wait for an argument, because quite frankly, River enjoys fighting, and he rarely loses.

  “At least let my driver take you. This isn’t the best neighborhood for you to be out wandering the streets.”

  “Fine. I’ll wait for him downstairs.” He pulls his phone from his pocket and instructs someone named Grant to bring t
he car up.

  “Black Lincoln MKS. Grant. Stay with the bouncer until he pulls up.” He sighs, scrubbing his hands over his chiseled face. There’s something about him that draws me in, but thoughts of my husband keep me weighted.

  “Take care, Mr. Holtz,” I say quietly before I pull open the door and head down the stairs. With every step I take, I swear I hear him following close behind. The sounds of my heels echo on the metal.

  The bouncer was obviously given a heads up because he grabs my arm when I reach the door and ushers me out to a waiting car. In the matter of a few minutes, I went from kissing River Holtz to sitting alone on the cool leather seats of a Lincoln with a man I don’t know behind the wheel.

  I slip down in the seat, hoping to mask the tears from his rearview. Going to the club with River was a mistake, but letting him crawl into my life was my first downfall.

  I never meant to be this girl.

  SLEEP DIDN’T CURE MY GUILT. It didn’t lessen it either. The mind is nothing but a free Polaroid that never stops taking pictures. And you can’t just throw them away. They won’t rip or cut. Those moments are captured forever.

  I go through my morning routine like a robot.

  Shower.

  Dress.

  Hair.

  Make-up.

  Coffee. Two cups, actually.

  I veer off course once to wrap the dress I wore last night in a garbage bag and throw it in the bin outside. I’ll never be able to wear it again. That part of the memory I can dispose of.

  After filling my coffee cup one more time, I start my trek to work on autopilot. Taking the same turns, passing the same line of houses, then getting stuck in the same jumble of traffic I always do. It’s in those moments—when my car isn’t moving—that I think of him. I remember the waves of excitement that swept through my body when his lips touched mine. I betrayed my marriage, but I liked it. I really liked it, and I hate to even admit it.

  I attempt to shake all thoughts of River as I pull into the parking garage. Autopilot Marley needs to make another appearance.