17. Genevieve
Chapter seventeen
Genevieve
Istepped into the lobby of Newman Trust, shrugging off my jacket as I made my way toward the elevators.
God, I’d been trying to erase the memories of that night a few days ago. Trying to forget the feeling of him under the stars, my back against the cold metal of his car, his mouth pressed to mine like a brand.
I kept thinking of the too-warm, too-cozy ride home from the hospital. How comfortable and quiet it felt inside despite what had just happened. And how I fell asleep in the front seat…
And woke up in bed with my heels neatly placed in the corner, my wrap dress folded over the edge of the armchair. And I was in one of my soft sleep shirts. One of the ones I only wore at home. Alone.
My pulse had spiked the moment I woke, realizing I’d been moved. Reid had touched me, undressed me, cared for me…
And I wanted to scream.
Scream at him for toying with me like this, for turning cruelty into something almost tender. Confusing my mind with moments that weren’t hate or vengeance or punishment… but something close to intimacy.
Something that made me question if I’d ever truly known what was going on inside that fucking mind of his.
The elevator chimed. I stepped inside, pressing the button for the top floor. The doors slid shut and I caught my reflection in the mirrored panel.
This morning I looked fine. All put together and poised. A cream blouse tucked into a black pencil skirt. Lip color neutral. Hair swept into a low, polished ponytail. And I had to act like nothing had happened and that I wasn’t still aching between my legs.
I exhaled hard through my nose, willing the memory of last night away.
This was Reid’s game: make me spiral, feel everything again just so I’d forget how to function.
He wanted me off-balance. And unfortunately his plan was working.
The elevator dinged at the top floor and I stepped out, making my way to my new small and suffocating office, shutting the door behind me as I welcomed the silence.
It gave me space to think even if that was the last thing I wanted to do. I sat down slowly at the desk, setting my bag down and breathing through the anxiety coiled in my chest. My fingers grazed the surface of the folder I needed to review for the week’s press round, my focus still elsewhere.
He hadn’t touched me again since that night.
But that didn’t stop the damage from settling under my skin. Because that was Reid Kaufman.
Capable of breaking me without laying a single finger. Confusing me until I didn’t know the difference between what I wanted or deserved.
Eventually, I finished the first round of press notes to be reviewed by the board. And with the investor gala set for this evening, every word, impression, and curated smile had to be perfect.
A few investors looking to pull their money would be arriving for a meeting in a few days’ time, and for the moment, being on good terms with them was the sole focus of my responsibilities.
While Gregory was backtracking on every transaction he let slip through his fingers, I was responsible for keeping the people in charge of the funds within those transactions happy for as long as I could. Otherwise, the lights in this building would be off before we knew it.
I gathered the folder, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear as I stepped out into the hallway, heels soft against the polished floor.
Reid’s assistant would be expecting the first draft within the hour, so I headed toward the executive wing, rehearsing the phrasing of my hand-off in my head.
Just down the hall, I caught a glimpse of Greg’s office door that was slightly ajar. Maybe once we finished our morning tasks we could get a bite to eat. It had been a while since we’d sat down for lunch, even longer since I’d seen him come home at a reasonable hour.
I missed him… I had to; he was my fiancé, the father of my only son…
but part of me knew I was only thinking of him out of guilt, out of pity and obligation to keep our image together.
Nonetheless, we were due for a conversation, one that was ordinary and normal, not clouded by the man taking over our lives.
Then—
Out of the corner of my eye, a flash of brown hair emerged from the elevator. It belonged to the same woman from the other day. Today her hair was down, her curls bouncy, flirtatious almost.
Her crisp white blouse framed her perfectly, tucked neatly into a pair of tailored khaki trousers that hugged her figure like a second skin. Her heels clicked softly as she walked, confident and unbothered.
I’d learned her name was Cheryl. She’d just returned from maternity leave, and already, she looked vibrant, all well-rested and polished. As if motherhood hadn’t stolen a single ounce of her shine.
She carried two cups of coffee, one in each hand. She pushed open Gregory’s office door with her shoulder without knocking and disappeared inside, like she’d done it before, the wood clicking shut behind her.
Maybe it was nothing. It was a coincidence I’d seen her. And it was just coffee… a harmless gesture between colleagues.
But my stomach was already in knots, my fingers clenching around the folder in my hand. I stared at the closed door for too long. It was something about the way she comfortably walked in. It was too natural… and it gnawed at me.
“Were you planning on delivering those sometime today?” came a voice behind me, low and cutting through the silence.
I didn’t have to turn to know who it was. I swallowed, tightening my grip on the folder before slowly pivoting to face him. He stood far too close. Not enough to touch, but enough that I had to tilt my head to meet his gaze.
Whatever corporate persona he tried to put on in the beginning had begun to falter.
This Reid, the disheveled one with no tie, suit jacket forgotten, buttons undone was who I was used to.
Only thing I wasn’t used to these days was his gaze.
His eyes that seemed to focus more on me, on every step, flaw, every move I made.
But in that moment, he wasn’t just focused on me.
He’d seen her too. His attention flicked toward Gregory’s door, then back to me.
I forced myself to speak. “I was just on my way to see Alexander.”
He arched a brow, clearly not buying it entirely. “Oh… For a second there you looked… occupied.”
“It was nothing,” I said, too quickly.
“Sure, it’s only the second time you’ve seen her interacting with a man who’ll barely give you the time of day. The jealousy just hasn’t settled yet.”
“I’m not—” I began, breathing gently as he quirked one of his stupid eyebrows. “I am not jealous.”
“Of course you aren’t. You don’t love him.”
“I’m not having this conversation with you,” I said finally, stepping past him. But he followed, every step in sync with mine like he was tethered to me.
“No… it’s not jealousy. Anger, resentment…
regret maybe?” he continued as if we were talking about the weather.
“Any reasonable man could tell those little moments are because she wants him. Meanwhile you’re still trying to convince yourself you still want him and beating yourself up because you know you never did. ”
“Why do you enjoy this?” I asked, annoyed. “Punishing me like this? Humiliating me?”
“Only time you can’t hide behind your lies. Can’t pretend to be happy when you’re reminded you’re not.”
Stepping inside his office, I glanced around for Alexander, half-hoping the conversation would die in his presence. But the room was empty.
What wasn’t empty, however, was the sofa.
A row of garment bags hung neatly along the back, the tags still attached, and several boxed heels sat beside them, tissue paper pulled and torn from a few, like someone had already begun inspecting the contents.
His voice came from behind me, close to my ear as I could feel the heat radiating off him. “Your dress is in the third one.”
I turned toward him slowly. “My dress?”
“For tonight.”
I blinked. “Tonight?”
“The investor gala, Genevieve.” His gaze flicked over me, slow and assessing. “You didn’t think I was going alone, did you?”
“You want me to go with you?”
His brow lifted. “You are going with me.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“I’m always serious.”
I let out a sarcastic laugh, stepping forward. “You want me to show up to a black-tie investor event on your arm? While I’m still engaged to your brother?”
His eyes didn’t flinch. “Exactly.”
“Do you have any idea what that’ll look like?” I snapped. “People will talk, Reid.”
“Let them.” He shrugged, casual, like it meant nothing and the fallout didn’t matter.
And for the hundredth time, I had whiplash.
One second, he was plotting his revenge, threatening to unravel everything I’d tried to hold together, every lie holding it in place.
The next, he was deliberately stepping into the cracks of my life, until I couldn’t tell if he was pulling me apart or putting me back together.
He made me feel things I’d spent years trying to bury.
Things that terrified me and that I hated myself for still wanting.
“Why would I even need to be there, Reid? It’s an investor gala, not a press stunt. Me being here is confusing and unneeded as it is,” I questioned, though I knew his answer wouldn’t be one I wanted to hear, let alone one that made sense. Because nothing about Reid Kaufman made sense at all.
“Because investors want confidence. They want stability. They want to see strong alliances between the people they’re betting on.”
“Right. Nothing says stability like the family castaway showing up with his brother’s fiancée.”
Instead of getting angry at my snarky comment, the idiot smiled.
Like I’d said a funny little joke rather than the truth of our situation.
He took a step closer, his eyes boring straight into my soul as I stared back at him.
His hand reached up, fingertips brushing the stubborn loose strand of hair behind my ear.
I tried to ignore the sensation bubbling under my skin, but before I could look away, his hand lifted my chin higher, leaning in slightly.
“You’re going to wear the dress I picked and be on your best behavior tonight, Genevieve.”
My eyes narrowed slightly. “That sounds like a threat.”
“It is if you don’t want Gregory to find out about that night… or the night in the kitchen before that. Then we’ll see how stable your little life really is.”
My cheeks flushed as my eyes went down to his lips then back up to meet his gaze. Then, I looked away. “Fine, you made your point.”
“Glad we’re in agreement.” His hand left my chin, leaving my skin feeling cold. “We leave at eight.”