Billionaire Temptations: Rich, Ruthless & Obsessed

Chapter 32

Chapter Thirty-Two

Emily

Seeing Jake again was the highlight of my day. I hadn’t seen him since Parsons, when he dropped out and moved to Italy to study fashion. Now he was back in New York to stay after scoring an editorial position at Cosmopolitan magazine.

Grabbing my phone from the counter, I looked at it and saw Jackson’s text message. It seemed cold and flat, like he was pissed off.

“Okay. I understand. Are you okay?”

I waited a few minutes for a response, but one never came. Maybe he was in a meeting, and he’d text me later.

“What’s wrong?” Katie asked as she walked past me.

“Jackson sent me a text message saying he had to cancel for tonight because something came up at the office.”

“Oh. Then let’s go out. Alex is working late at the firm.”

“Okay. How about a movie? We can go see that new one with Blake Lively.”

“Sounds fun. I’ll check to see what time it starts.” She smiled as she walked away.

The movie ended at eight, and since neither one of us was hungry because of the large popcorn and box of Milk Duds we devoured, we decided to hit up a bar for a couple of drinks before heading home. We entered through the door of The Heights Bar & Grill and found a table along the wall amongst the crowd of people who were also there.

“What can I get you ladies?” the tall redheaded waitress asked.

“I’ll have a frozen watermelon margarita, sugar rim.” I smiled.

“I’ll have the same,” Katie spoke.

“Can I get you an appetizer or something?”

“No. Just the drinks.” I smiled.

“Two frozen sugar-rimmed watermelon margaritas coming right up.” She grinned as she scurried away.

The waitress brought our drinks rather quickly, considering how busy the place was. Katie went to the restroom, so I pulled out my phone from my purse to see if Jackson had answered my text message from earlier, and still nothing. Sighing, I set my phone down on the table and took a large sip of my margarita. While waiting for Katie to return to the table, my eyes scanned the room and then froze when I saw Jackson and Samuel sitting up at the bar. My heart started pounding out of my chest. What the fuck!

“Sorry, there was a line,” Katie spoke as she sat down. “What’s wrong?”

“Jackson is here with Samuel,” I spoke in anger.

“Where?” She turned around.

“Up at the bar.”

“I thought something came up at the office?”

“Me too. At least, that’s what he said.” I grew angrier by the second.

“Oh shit. Emily, what are you doing?” she asked as I got up from my seat.

“Going to get some answers.”

I stomped across the floor and over to the bar where Jackson was.

“Hello, Mr. Caine,” I abruptly spoke.

“Emily,” he replied with nervousness. “What are you doing here?”

“The question is, Jackson, what are you doing here? I thought you had to work late because of a problem at the office?!” I voiced a bit too loudly.

“There was, and I took care of it.”

“It’s only eight-thirty. You couldn’t have called me?”

“Why would I call you? I already canceled our date for tonight, and I didn’t see a need to.”

“Because it’s only eight thirty and still early.”

“Sorry, Emily. I don’t know what to say,” he spoke rudely.

“Yeah, well, I know what to say. Fuck you, Jackson!” The words angrily spewed out of my mouth.

I walked back to the table, grabbed my purse, and told Katie we were leaving. She threw some cash down and ran out after me.

“What did he say?”

“Nothing. He had nothing to say.” I held up my hand for a cab.

When one finally pulled up, we climbed inside, and the tears began to fall from my eyes.

“Why the fuck am I crying?”

“Because you’re hurt, Em.” She rubbed my back.

“I don’t cry over guys.” I wiped the tears with my hand.

“You do if you’re in love with them.”

“I’m not in love with him.”

“Then you wouldn’t care and wouldn’t be crying.”

The cab pulled up to my apartment building, and I told Katie I wanted to be alone and not come up. She understood as she hugged me goodbye, and the cab pulled away from the curb. After unlocking the door, I changed into my nightshirt and sat on the couch, bringing my knees to my chest. I tried to process what had just happened. The look on his face and the tone of his voice was as if he didn’t care.

“UGH!” I screamed as I jumped up from the couch. What was this I was feeling? I needed to get a grip and get hold of myself. What did I do to make him behave like that towards me? The words my mother told me kept playing over and over like a broken record. “We Wade women do not let others, especially men, control or wreak havoc on our emotional state.”

And that was exactly what I was doing. I was letting him wreak havoc on my emotional state, something I had never let happen before, and I didn’t know how to stop it. I climbed into bed around ten p.m. with my laptop and tried to distract myself from how I felt by going over today’s sales from the shop.

“Emily, it’s me. Open up!” Jackson pounded on the door.

Jumping out of bed for fear that my neighbors would call the police, I opened the door.

“Are you crazy? Do you want someone to call the cops?”

“May I come in?”

“No.”

“Then I’ll just stand here in the hallway until you talk to me.”

“Jackson.” I sighed. “I’m too tired to deal with this right now.”

“Why are your eyes all puffy and red? Have you been crying?”

“No.”

“Come on, Emily. Just let me in, and we can talk about tonight.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. Remember? You don’t know what to say?”

He closed his eyes as he pursed his lips.

“I was angry with you today.”

“For what?”

“If you let me inside, I’ll explain.”

“Fine.” I waved my hand.

He stepped through the door with his hands tucked tightly in his pants pockets and followed me into the living area.

“Tell me what I did that made you angry? Because I haven’t got a clue.”

“Who was that guy you were with earlier?”

“What guy?” I furrowed my brows.

“The one in your shop. I stopped by earlier this afternoon because I wanted to see the espresso bar, and when I walked in, I saw you hugging him, and to top it off, he was running his finger up and down your arm, and you seemed to be enjoying it.”

“You mean Jake?” I cocked my head.

“Is that his name?” He narrowed his eye at me, and I didn’t appreciate his tone.

“Jake happens to be a friend of mine. We went to Parsons together and then he dropped out and moved to Italy to study fashion. He just moved back to New York and heard I opened a shop, and he came to see me. Oh, and if you must know, he’s gay!” I shouted.

He stood there, looking down, hands still tucked inside his pockets.

“I’m sorry,” he softly spoke, knowing he fucked up big time.

“You’re sorry for what?” I asked in a commanding tone. “Sorry that you jumped to conclusions? Sorry that you didn’t bother to come see me while you were standing in my shop staring at us? Sorry that you canceled our date for no fucking reason at all?!!” I shouted. “You, Jackson, broke rule number seven about open communication and honesty!”

He lifted his head, and his eyes met mine.

“You can’t possibly understand, Emily, because I don’t understand it myself.”

“Understand what?”

“The feeling I got when I saw you with him. I don’t know why I got so angry, and I’m sorry. I am truly sorry. I didn’t handle the situation well because I had never been confronted with something like that before.”

“Don’t you trust me?”

“Of course, I trust you. As I said, I’m sorry. Can you forgive me?”

I turned my back on him because I didn’t want him to see the tears that formed in my eyes. If he had trusted me, he wouldn’t have done what he did, and that hurt. I felt his arms wrap around my waist from behind.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered in my ear.

A part of me wanted to punish him, yet another part of me melted in his arms. He made a mistake. I, for one, am guilty of making plenty in my lifetime.

“Okay. I accept your apology. But what you did, canceling our date because of what you saw without even talking to me first, was a dick move on your part.”

“I know it was.” His arms tightened around me.

I turned my body until we were fully embraced, my arms locked around him.

“We just had our first fight.” He kissed the top of my head.

“We did, and I didn’t like it.”

“Me either.” His hands planted themselves on each side of my face as his lips brushed tenderly against mine. “Isn’t there something called make-up sex?”

“Yes.” Our lips continued to tangle.

“Then we better get to it.” He smiled as he picked me up and carried me to the bedroom.