Authors: Michelle Hughes,Dahlia Salvatore
Secret Passions
Four Days Later
(Emily)
The next four days were torturous.
I couldn't have him.
I knew I couldn't.
I'd lose Katherine if I got too close to him.
And yet … Drake was hourly in my thoughts. It didn't matter what I was doing.
Even the precious moments I spent with Jack echoed with the sound of Drake's words in my ears. In the far reaches of my mind, I could still remember the touch of his hands, could still taste the sweet mint and vodka in his kiss. It'd been intoxicating. Well … the alcohol had been intoxicating. I'd suffered the next day for it, too. I'd only had a few hangovers in my lifetime, but that one in particular had been the worst.
Despite throwing up that night and battling a monstrous headache the next day, it'd seemed … worth it.
Collapsing in embarrassing tears wasn't exactly how I'd wanted things to end. I'd thrown caution to the wind, allowed myself to go too far. In the heat of the moment, even though I was blubbering all over him, he'd granted my freedom. I hadn't decided in the days following that night whether I was happy or sad about that fact. After all, my freedom wasn't his to grant.
I poked my au gratin with my fork, staring as the balsamic reduction from my chicken swirled around the plate.
“Emily,” Jack said sharply.
I was so startled I jumped. “Hm?”
He was irritated; that was blindingly evident. “I'm sorry. Did I interrupt a daydream?” he asked.
“Sort of.”
“You've been spacing out a lot lately,” he complained. “I was
saying
that there's a museum opening tomorrow. I'll be going and I want you to come with me.”
“Sounds good.” I sipped my water. “I was just thinking about that club.” The confession came out before I could stop it.
“Really?” Jack cut into his dinner. “Did you have a good time with your partner? You were pretty drunk by the time we left.”
“We had some drinks. Yeah.” I felt my cheeks flush.
“You had
more
than a few.” Jack studied my face. “What else did you have?”
“Nothing. We just talked,” I lied.
He sat upright in his chair and fixed his eyes on mine. There was no doubt in my mind he could smell my bullshit. “And?”
I shrugged. “Nothing.”
“He didn't want to do anything else, huh?” Jack smirked, then sipped his wine. “I might have guessed he didn't have it in him.”
I set my fork down. Hearing Jack talk this way upset me for some reason. I wasn't ready to admit that I had feelings of a certain nature toward Drake. I was undeniably attracted to him. He was handsome, smart, funny, sexy, and even a little awkward, something I never thought I'd be attracted to. Above all else, he was warm. After I factored all that in, I supposed it wasn't that odd that Jack's disparagement upset me.
“We thought about it.”
Fuck.
I'd meant to come to his defense, but this would likely just anger Jack.
Though he looked tense, he swept his tongue over his teeth and flashed me a smile. “Well, as long as you had fun, that's all that matters.” He untucked his napkin and tossed it on his half-eaten dinner. “We're going again tonight. Be ready in an hour.”
“A—again?” I asked as he headed for the door. “You want to go back?”
He stopped and turned, his smile holding fast. “I think it's a fun place. Don't
you
want to go back? Maybe if you enjoy yourself with other people, you won't look so gloomy all the time.”
“I look gloomy?” For some reason, I touched my cheek, as if lack of social interaction might cause one's skin to droop or wrinkle.
“Gloomy was the wrong word,” he said, striding toward me. He set his hands on my shoulders. “All I mean is that sometimes you look a little pale and bored.” His lips brushed my cheek. “After hanging out at this club a few times, I think it'll brighten you up.” He patted me in a genial way, then left me sitting at the dining room table by myself.
I'll get to see him again,
I thought.
What can I say to him after last time?
Maybe I should hang out with somebody else and avoid him altogether.
Thoughts of my almost-lover bled into my dressing time. After my shower, I passed in front of the full-length mirror. My imagination went wild, imagining him standing behind my naked reflection.
A shuddered breath escaped my lips as I pictured his arms encircling me, his hands on my curves.
I squeezed my eyes shut. If I wasn't careful, I was going to break a sweat.
To get my mind off of that tantalizing fantasy, I went to my closet and picked through my wardrobe. A dark plum dress that I hadn't worn in months fell under my fingertips, and I was sorely tempted to wear it.
Of course, my first thought was whether
he
would like it. I had a feeling he would.
No, Emily. No. Avoidance is the name of the game tonight. Remember: avoid Drake Savage at all costs.
Or it might become too real.
Hold back your feelings.
If you don't, you could lose Katherine.
Nothing is worth that.
(Drake)
“Have you seen these numbers?” Margot waved a stack of papers at me.
“Hm?”
“What is
wrong
with you?” She hiked a meaty fist up on her hip. “I feel like I'm talking to a freakin' wall here.”
“I'm sorry. My mind was somewhere else.” I scratched the back of my head.
“I was saying that this business event the store is doing is going to make you a mint, but you'll have to expedite the supply orders to get everything here on time.” She dropped the stack in front of me. “Have you sent the recipe for the salted caramel cookies to the catering kitchen?”
“No. I haven't.” I slapped my own forehead. “I meant to email that to Gabe, earlier, but I had to replace a propane tank.” I pulled out my laptop. “Thanks for reminding me.”
“
Someone's
got to remind you,” she bit out. “Where's your head lately?”
There were times her nagging really got to me. This was one of those times. It hardly mattered what I said. Nothing seemed to satisfy her. “I'm thinking of someone,” I said, hoping that angle would work.
She narrowed her eyes. “A girl?”
I nodded. “Yup.”
“Chastity?”
I couldn't hold back my smile. “No.”
She grinned. “Good. It's about time you shifted your focus. When do I get to meet her?”
“It's … complicated.” I finished the email and clicked 'send'.
“
Complicated?
How?”
I leaned back in my office chair. “She's married.”
Margot made a face. “Ugh.”
“Yeah. To a real asshole, too. He's the fucking worst person I've ever met.” I huffed and ran my fingers through my hair. “He's also the guy that got us the gig for the business event.”
“Oh
really
?” She crossed her arms, rubbing her chin in her hand.
I quirked a brow. “I know that look. Please, don't hatch any plans.”
“Oh, I'm not. But … I
was
thinking how if this asshole is having you cater, you'll have to stay up there.”
Blinking at her remark, I prodded her further. “Yeah? So?”
“Well, won't his wife be there
with
him?” she suggested.
I pursed my lips. “I did
not
think about that.”
“That's a nice way for you to see her.”
“I'll be there
working
, not socializing. Chastity will be there with me, too, you know.”
“Pft. Chastity. You think she gives a crap who you see?” She shook her head.
I rolled my eyes. “Can we not talk about this? I'm getting uncomfortable.”
“Alright. Alright.” She smiled. “Just remember this: if you're thinking of her, she's probably thinking of you, too.” She winked and left my office.
I sat back and thought about what she said, and before I knew it, I was grinning.
“You look happy.” Chastity wandered in with her apron strung over her arm.
“Guess I'm just in a good mood.” I stood and began packing my stuff up. “Do you need to go home for anything?”
“Not really,” she replied.
“We can go down early if you want. The cleaners are probably just finishing up.” I checked my watch. “Rock and Oscar will probably be here in the next hour or so, but I can make you a drink until then.”
“Sounds good.”
We took the stairs down to the club. As I'd guessed, the cleaners were completing their usual rounds.
A maid appeared at the mouth of the side corridor with two canvas sacks of soiled linens. Cleaning implements and sprays hung from her belt. Tucked into her apron were dusting cloths and gloves. Three women came out after her, all dressed the same.
The house lights were up and another woman in uniform vacuumed the floors. Rock took care of glasses and dishes every night, so they were spared that at least.
“We're all finished,” Lucy said as she came up to me.
“Thank you so much. Your efforts are much appreciated.”
“We'll be out of your hair after we finish the last of the polishing,” she assured me.
I don't think I could have trusted anybody except my cousin Lucy and her cleaning business to handle an intimate job like this. Each room had to be properly reset. Not only was this always done perfectly, but Lucy herself cleaned and sanitized the toys. Anyone else might have glossed over details like that but not her. Cleaning was her passion, and it showed in how thorough she was.
As they packed up, I slid behind the bar and pulled down two glasses. “Pick your poison,” I told Chastity.
“I'd like a Peggy, please.”
I turned to the shelf of liquor. “Shit. I don't remember how to make that.”
She leaned on the counter and smiled. “Shot of gin. Vermouth.
Anis Liqueur
.”
I took out a chilled glass. “That's a Martini.”
“It's a Peggy,” she argued. “Cause of the
Anis
.”
“I guess.” I took out the vermouth and gin and began pouring. “
Anis Liquer
,” I mused, searching the mixer shelf. “We don't have any.”
“Fine. Just make it a regular martini. Not too dry.”
I put it in the mixer, then poured it into the glass. She picked it up and took a sip. “That's good.”
“Thanks.” I began making my own drink as her phone went off. “Who is it?”
“Him.”
I scowled. “Must he come back?”
“Of course he has to.” She smiled over the brim of her glass.
“I wish you'd tell me what you see in that guy.” I tossed my ingredients in the shaker and began mixing. “It just doesn't make sense. He's kind of a douche and he made you sick. I don't get it. Is he really
that
good at fucking? What's his
super power
?” I poured the contents of the shaker into my high-ball glass.
She stared thoughtfully into her martini. “Want to know a secret?”
“Well
now
you
have
to tell me.” I drained half my glass.
“A guy came to the club a few weeks ago, and he got pretty drunk. In between our rather vanilla sessions, he told me the story of man who sent his wife to sleep with him in exchange for some kind of service. He didn't say what.” She pulled out a pack of cigarettes and fished one out.
“And? Don't keep me in suspense.”
She lit up the cigarette and took a drag. “Well, I worked him a little bit and found out who this guy was.”
“Duncan?”
She nodded slowly. “Duncan.”
My mind whirred with the possibilities. He'd made Emily sleep with someone else so he could
get
something out of it? Maybe it didn't surprise me all that much. After all, he traded Emily to me for Chastity. “I didn't think I could hate him worse.” I began fixing myself a second drink to try and put out the fury burning in my chest. “I'm having a little trouble connecting you to him, though.”
“Well, I suggest that he bring his
interesting
friend here. He says he knows a girl the guy messes around with, a girl you know as Julia.” She chased a lung full of smoke with the rest of her cocktail.
“So he plants the seed with Julia and she brings Duncan.” I shook my head. “But why?”
“I got to thinking, 'This guy's a piece of shit, right? A real classic asshole who uses women.'”
“That's what I've been trying to tell you!” I exclaimed.
“Yes. Let me finish.” She slid her empty glass toward me and I began refilling it. “A guy like that seems interesting, right?”
I cleared my throat. “That's not the word I'd use to describe him, but sure.”
“Hearing a story like that got me thinking. How could someone do something so incredibly heartless? How could a man like that even exist?” She looked thoughtful, her gaze sweeping the counter. “It's like he doesn't understand the value of love or promises.”
“So, you wondered if he was like
you
.”
She looked into my eyes and I knew I'd figured out the riddle. “I think he might be.”
“You're a rare case, Chastity. Most people aren't like you,” I pointed out.
“Medically, yes. But what if someone
chose
that path? Does it make him different than me?”
I scoffed. “Who would
choose
not to be able to feel love?”
She twirled the stem of her glass between her fingertips. “It's not such a bad way to be.”