Deceived - Part 1 New York (13 page)

Standing knee deep in the
murky water of the Atlantic ocean I felt completely numb. I was so
desensitized that I couldn’t even feel Patrick’s hand on my
shoulder.

“
Chloe, please let me
explain,” he said in a soft voice.

His words compelled me to
turn around, and I could see the desperation and pleading in his
eyes. My brain was on fire; my heart, which had been fluttering
faintly, gave a great leap, trying to force itself into my throat.
My entire body was raked and wrenched with hurt.

“
Explain what Patrick? That
you used me and fucked me for pleasure, while at the same time
fucking that old hag baroness for money, like a gold digging
gigolo. Is that what you are trying to explain to me?” I sputtered
with rage. “Just save it Patrick. There is nothing you can say that
will rectify what you’ve done. In fact, how much do I owe you for
the privilege of putting your cock in my mouth? Do I have to tip
you as well?” I seethed.

Shoving his arm off my
shoulder, I scooped up my shoes and headed towards the
mansion.

The desperate sound of his
voice rang out behind me, “The baroness and I are not together. We
were never serious. All we had was a small fling last year that
ended shortly after. I did
not
kiss her back today. I was trying to explain to
her that I didn't reciprocate her feelings and that we would never
be together. She practically jumped me and that’s when you walked
in. I swear.”

Patrick was now far behind
me when I heard him yell, “I even told her that I was in love with
someone else. And it’s true. I am in love... with you
Chloe.”

I stopped in my path,
turned slowly and looked up to the library balcony. The French
doors pushed wide and the gossamer white curtains billowed out the
open door. Standing there in the night air with her arms folded
across her chest was the Baroness. I saw the eyes of the woman who
had destroyed everything, gazing down into my own through the
moonlight. They were the eyes of contemptuous satisfaction. I
remembered having read that men are hardwired to betray and how
easily we can allow ourselves to be deceived by false
realities.

And there was Patrick, the
man I had fallen in love with, standing at the edge of the sea, his
expensive designer shoes buried deep in the sand, salty water
undulating around them like a water snake. Looking like a beaten
dog, I realized that this was probably the last time my eyes would
gaze upon the incomprehensible Patrick Collins.

Over time, we all commit
acts with intentions, either good or bad, that require forgiveness
and this would take a lot of forgiving.

Nothing left to say for now
except.....

It’s over.

Deceived Part 2 – Paris is
now available for your reading pleasure. Please enjoy a free
preview of Part 2 on the next page.

Deceived

Part 2 –
Paris

By Eve Carter

CPH

This book is a work of
fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products
of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are
not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or
dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely
coincidental.

Copyright © 2013 Eve Carter.

Published By Carter Publishing House.

Smashwords Edition

All
rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright
reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced,
stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in
any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying,
recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of
the copyright owner.

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark
owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction,
which have been used without permission. The publication/use of
these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored
by the trademark owners.

The night air
blew cold down the back of my bare neck as I
stumbled up the sandy path to one of the most beautiful mansions in
the Hamptons. I had pinned my hair in an “
updo” for what started out to be a glorious night full of
promise, but now my first summer event of the Hamptons was bathed
in a somber mood and no doubt this would be my last event here. I
had just walked away from Patrick Collins, whom I’d opened my heart
to, leaving him standing in desperation at the water’s
edge.

Struggling to hold up the
soaking wet hem of a $3000 designer gown as I tripped my way up the
path, I squeezed my eyes tightly, hoping to abate the deluge
that was about to spill forth. My mind was swimming with questions
about my boss, the man who had become my lover. “Lover”, that was
before he deceived me. Before he wrenched my heart out of my body
and threw it off the damn balcony at the Crestwood Mansion, where
my nemesis last poured her contemptuous glare down upon me. Not
here, not now. I squeezed my eyes shut again. I wasn’t going to
allow myself to cry. Not yet.

I climbed up the steps to
the veranda, winded from both the hike up the ocean path and the
effort it had taken to control the emotions now boiling up inside
of me. I grabbed the wooden rail with one hand, my high heels
dangling and clattering against the wood. Holding the bunched up
fabric in the other, I impatiently tugged and stretched it as I
stumbled up the stairs.

My mind raced. I had to get out of
here. There’s no way I could go back inside. How could I face these
people looking like this?

How on earth was I going
to get home?
I just wanted to leave and
retreat to my comfortable apartment, curl up in the fetal position
in my own bed and die a graceful death of a broken
heart.

Once up the stairs,
standing on the veranda, I could hear the soft melodious sound of
music floating out the French doors. The charity event was still in
progress, as I stalled out on the porch not sure how to proceed.
Fighting the urge to give in to self-pity, a wave of overwhelming
fatigue hit my body like a freight train and I plopped down on the
top step burying my face in my hands. What was I going to do?
Running a mental check of the contents of my purse, I noted that I
had my wallet and phone
so I supposed
could call a cab to take me back.
Yeah,
right, a two hour cab ride back to the city
.
Shit! What the hell am I gonna do
now?

“
Hey there,” a familiar
voice rang out from behind me. Turning my head, a shadowy figure of
Ryan appeared, silhouetted against the interior lights of the
mansion.

“
Oh, Ryan,” I said trying
to hide the hurt in my voice. “Hey,” I continued and then quickly
looked away so he couldn’t read the emotion on my face or see the
distress in my eyes. Luckily, the cover of darkness was on my
side.

Ryan moved down one step and sat next
to me while unbuttoning his tuxedo jacket in the cool night air.
The silence between us was blatantly obvious, but I was relieved
that he allowed it to settle over the conversation for a while. I
kept my head down, staring at nothing on the bottom step, scared to
talk for fear of opening the floodgates.

Thank God it was Ryan who
walked out.
I had taken a liking to him
right away,
the week before when we first
met. Something clicked between us and I immediately picked up
on
the good vibes from him. Compassion is
like a magic key unlocking our emotions, when even the briefest
comfort from a stranger can trigger the release in our moment of
need. Hugging my knees to my chest, I rested my chin on
them.

“
Chloe, are you okay?” he
asked with a soft voice.

Like a five-year-old child,
I bobbed my head up and down, pursing my lips and shutting my eyes
tight again. Considering that eighty percent of all communication
is nonverbal, I knew that my body language would betray me. Reading
the situation like a detective, Ryan gently laid his arm on my
shoulders, leaning his head close to mine.

“
Okay, let’s see here. A
beautiful young woman, dressed in a lovely gown is sitting all
alone on the steps with the hem of her dress, dripping
wet...hmm...and no Patrick to be found. Me thinks something is
wrong m’lady,” he said soothingly.

I kept my focus frozen on that bottom
step, and then blew out a long audible breath, dropping my arms to
my sides and stretching out my long legs.

“
Ryan, this sucks. I cannot
be here one more minute,” I confessed desperately.

“
Why? What happened?” His
eyes were searching my face for clues. I turned my head to look
back at him and recognized his genuine concern.

“
Patrick and I had a fight
and...I don’t want to talk about it. I can’t talk about it right
now...” I stammered.

“
Oh, okay. So what do you
want to do then?” He pressed me but I wasn’t willing to divulge
details just yet. I was too furious to speak coherently. I knew if
I launched into an explanation now, it would all come out a jumbled
mess.

“
All I know is I can’t stay
here and I can’t go back to the hotel with Patrick. I want to go
home - now!” I insisted with a little quiver in my voice. I felt
like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz demanding to go home to Auntie Em.
The crack in my voice was enough of a signal for Ryan to get the
hint that I was a smoldering volcano about to erupt.

‘
Hey, tell you what. This
whole high stakes charity event is boring me anyway. There is
nothing more I’d rather do than get the hell out of here. What do
you say I drive you back to the city?” He pulled back away from me
and smiled understandingly.

“
Really? You would do that?
Oh my God. Thank you so much Ryan.” The tension in my shoulders
relaxed. “You’re a lifesaver,” I said dropping my head back in a
“thank you Lord” expression. I could feel my scrambled nerves
coagulating, coming back together again, now that my immediate
problem was miraculously solved.

Ryan stood up, offered his
hand to steady me, and said, “I’ll go tell the valet to bring my
car around. There’s a washroom just inside the front door. You
should go there and....”

“
I don’t want anyone to see
me like this.” I interrupted.

“
Don’t worry sweetie. It’s
just inside the front door. Probably no one will notice you. Meet
you out here in a few,” he said reassuringly and I begrudgingly
followed his instructions.

***

Minutes later, inside
Ryan’s BMW, I noticed him glancing down at my drooping
dress.

“
You
can’t make the long car ride back to the city in that,” Ryan said
as he crinkled up his nose. “Besides, I think it’s starting to
smell.” He was attempting to interject a bit of levity into the
situation, which I greatly appreciated. “I
suggest we swing by your hotel so you can change
clothes and get your things.”

I smiled a meek half smile
at his attempted humor. “Sure, that sounds great. I have my own
room key. I always take one. You just never know what the future
will bring... I guess.” There was a part of me that wanted to rely
on other people and their decisions, and yet another independent
part that said watch out for yourself in every situation. This
night had turned out to be one of those moments where life’s “big
hand of reality” smacks you in the face, clearing your brain of the
love and romance endorphins like shaking the dust off a dirty
rug.

We headed towards the hotel where
Patrick had promised me a heavenly weekend with sensual erotic
bubble baths in the golden glow of the fireplace.

As we drove up to the hotel, we
scanned the parking area for any signs of Patrick’s Jaguar before
settling for a location that would allow for a quick getaway. Ryan
stood guard outside with the car running in the event that he spied
Patrick’s car returning from the Hamptons.

Slipping inside the hotel room, I
yanked the gown off with an angry jerk muttering expletives through
my clenched teeth like a Tourette victim, as if saying the words
out loud would help relieve the pain.

God-damn-mutha-fuckin-son-of-a-bitch-ASSHOLE!!!

I flung the dress with
disgust on his side of the bed, tossing the room key on top of it.
I threw on jeans and a top as fast as a runway model at a fashion
show, grabbed my bags and headed for Ryan waiting in his
Beamer.

As he steered the car out
onto Route 27 I bolstered myself for a long ride filled with polite
yet awkward conversation. The knowledge of Patrick’s indiscretions
with the Baroness in the library weighed on me like a ton of
bricks. Part of me wanted to yell out, “
Do
you know what your asshole friend did tonight?
” but another part of me cautioned against it.

“
Ryan, this is really
amazing that you offered to drive me back to the city. I can’t
thank you enough.” I relaxed a little and settled into the hum of
the road.