chapter ten
Wren
I spent the afternoon getting ready for my date with Maxwell. A matching set of lacy red lingerie is underneath my black slip dress. It isn’t something I’d have worn before, but I purchased it while hazing a previous Jay. The garters and strappy lace press slightly into my skin and should make me feel uncomfortable, but make me feel sexy and powerful. Lexi’s comment about looking prissy sent me through a spiral this morning and required Gemma’s help via Facetime with one of her make-up artists on her photoshoot. Now, feeling more confident and expecting a fun night after dinner, I meet Jay near the security office.
Seeing Jay waiting for me sends a little whoosh of guilt through my belly. He apologized and checked on me after I’d been an (intentional) asshole to him. I had put him in a potentially dangerous situation, and he checked on me. Now, if I’m not mistaken, he’s checking me out. His gaze travels up and down my body more than once and I see a twitch of his eyebrow. His jaw clenches as I approach him.
I hand him a ball of knitted fabric. “I made this for you. Please don’t tell my dad I sexually harassed you by taking you to a kink club.”
Jay’s light brown eyebrows almost disappear beneath the hood of his balaclava. He looks at the yarn in his hand. He unfolds the bulky, woolly object I have, admittedly, given to three other Jays before him.
“It’s a hand knitted balaclava,” I say and toe the carpet runner in the hall. Though, the cute and innocent act doesn’t come across right when wearing Louboutin heels and a slinky dress.
“Thank you. Do I have to wear this tonight?” he asks, his thumbs rubbing over the scratchy multicolored wool.
“No, this is for sleeping in. Your pajama mask,” I say as we walk to the door.
“I don’t wear my mask to sleep,” he says and unbuttons his cargo pocket on his pants to slide in the mask. Honestly, the man pulls off cargo pants unapologetically, simply because he is so massive and everyone is afraid to even think ungenerous thoughts about him.
“Dirty!” I gasp.
I see Jay roll his eyes in our reflection on the elevator doors.
****
Maxwell is already at the restaurant when I finally get through the valet. Jay hates that I used the valet, but I was already out of the car by the time he realized what was happening. I could have taken a cab or used one of our Crow drivers, but I am hoping to spend the night with Maxwell and the walk of shame with one bodyguard is bad enough. I don’t need it with more people involved.
A glass of red wine is waiting for me when I get to my seat. I kiss Maxwell in greeting as I sit down. The table is a four top, but only two places are set for our dinner. “Sorry I’m late. I couldn’t find parking.”
“Yeah, it’s alright,” Maxwell says with a dismissive wave and a small smile.
“Did you order anything?” I ask and look down at the menu. I’ve been here before with Dad. It’s one of the most elite places in the city. When I look up, almost nobody is eyeing Jay suspiciously because most of the other patrons know me.
“No, I’ve never been here before. The wait list was astronomical. I went on it last year and they called me three months ago to let me know when my reservation was,” Maxwell says with proud bravado.
“Wow, they must be very selective!” I say, with praising awe in my voice for his achievement.
Maxwell’s shoulders lift as he peers down at the menu. I sip the red wine he chose for us. It’s a good choice. Dry, with a hint of chocolate and smoke. I hum into the glass.
“How was work? You seemed busy this week,” I say lightly.
“Eh, it wasn’t too bad,” Maxwell says and sits back in his seat and looks around the room. His eyebrows do that high scrunch thing all of Dad’s male business associates do when they’re thinking highly of themselves.
“Oh,” I say and look down at my menu.
Maxwell is silent. I’m getting sick of people not talking to me.
“My house will be done Monday. I’ll be moving in. You’ll have to come spend the weekends with me,” I say and slide the toe of my shoe up his calf.
He pulls away with a jerk and a scolding. “Wren.”
“Will you come visit?” I ask, not dropping the subject.
“Yeah. So, what’s going to be the deal with your bodyguard? Will he stand guard outside of your house? Will he have a room? What’s going on with that?” Maxwell rapid fires at me, a scornful look aimed at Jay next to me.
“Um, he’ll live with me,” I say with a small, casual shrug. “Just like he does now at the penthouse.”
I chance a glance over at Jay for the first time since sitting down. He is leaning back in his seat as his eyes are slowly scanning the room. He doesn’t seem to be listening to our conversation and is focused on his job.
“But it’ll be just the two of you,” Maxwell says instead of asks.
“Yeah,” I say with another shrug. I’ve learned long ago I need to downplay the presence of Blue Jay when talking to boyfriends. They get their feathers all ruffled when they think another man is protecting their woman more than them. While I’m certain Jay could fold Maxwell like a paper napkin, it’s not something that goes over well when brought to the attention of men.
The waitress comes over and Maxwell orders. I don’t register any of what he says to the waitress because I am focused on not making a scene.
“I’ll have the steak,” I say with barely a glance at the waitress as I hand her the menu. I launch back into my conversation with Maxwell. “Why is this a problem now, Maxwell? You’ve known about this arrangement for years.”
“Now it’s a bit intimate, don’t you think?” Maxwell asks with a scoffing laugh.
“He wears a mask and I don’t know his name. What about that seems intimate to you?” I ask sharply and lean over the table toward him.
I feel Jay shifting uncomfortably next to me. Oh, now he’s listening. I slide him my water glass without looking away from Maxwell. Watering my guard dog is the least I could do.
Maxwell flicks his styled blond hair away from his eyes and pulls a vibrating phone out of his pocket. He shoots me an irritated glance. “Excuse me, I have to take this.” He stands from the table and strides to the front entrance.
I sit back in my seat and look around the room again, taking in the luxe décor and well-dressed patrons. I smile at a few people I know when I catch their eye. Everyone is on their best behavior here tonight, which I find amusing. I’ve seen more than one of these people sloppy drunk after too much champagne and whiskey at parties Dad and I have thrown. One memorable party involved Dad talking about his favorite drunk food in college being Taco Bell. It resulted in us ordering about three hundred dollars of Taco Bell and everyone sitting on the floor eating it and laughing. This was surely a change of pace.
Jay exhales slowly and leans back in his seat. I hear a rustling sound and see him eating what looks like trail mix from a plastic bag. “Ew, I’ll feed you later,” I murmur to him.
“I’m not a dog,” he grumbles. I almost laugh again because it’s like he answers my guard dog thought from earlier.
“Say that to me when you’re not eating kibble,” I snark right back at him.
Maxwell and the waitress carrying our food arrive at the same time. “I’m so sorry, I had been waiting on that call,” he says as he sits down, unbuttoning his suit jacket.
“It’s alright,” I say with a terse smile.
“There is something I wanted to talk to you about, though,” Maxwell says seriously as he cuts into his fish.
I set down my knife before I can finish cutting into my steak. “Is it about visiting my new house? Because I know it’s unfair to ask you to come all the way every time, so we can alternate.”
“No. Wren. I want to let you know I’m… interested in seeing someone else,” Maxwell says quietly. His consonants are clipped, formal. Like he is discussing business and not breaking up with me.
That wine I drank while waiting for Maxwell swirls in my belly. “What?”
“I haven’t pursued anything with her yet. But I realized I wanted to try something with her more than I wanted to keep doing this with you,” he says carefully.
Tears well in my eyes. “What do you mean ‘ this ?’ What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I mean, essentially sneaking around. I can’t tell my workplace your name and they’ve made it a game to guess which washed up celebrity I’m seeing,” Maxwell hisses back at me and assesses to see if anyone heard, nodding curtly to someone he knew. “I don’t enjoy hiding and going on dates with a third wheel.” He finishes in less of a hiss.
“You know I can’t help that,” I say and blink furiously, trying to make my tears go away. Instead, one drips down and lands on my dress. I hear it land on my lap, somewhere above where my heart dropped.
“Yes, and I can’t help wanting something else. Something more normal,” he says, like there is no fault in his words. And logically, I know he is within his rights to want something else, but it still hurts like a bitch.
“Oh, normal . Me and your desire to be normal go way back,” I scoff and sit back in my seat and cross my arms over my chest. The tears are gone now and are replaced with anger.
“You know what? I wasn’t going to say anything. Since you brought it up, I might as well say it,” Maxwell says and sets down his knife and fork.
“Say it,” I snap.
“You want different things in the bedroom from me. Wrong things. I know you don’t even know what you’re asking for. And a girl like you shouldn’t want those things,” Maxwell spits disapprovingly.
I blush, thinking of what I only glimpsed at Cock’s Nest. He’s right. I think I want some of those things. But for him to say it like he knows more of my desires than I do is humiliating. It’s been a point of contention in our relationship that I always want more and harder sex than he is capable of. I don’t know what it is exactly I am asking for, but I know I never got it. And Maxwell has been adamant about his refusal to give it to me. So has every other man I’ve dated. The men within Maxwell’s friend circle. Ugh, this is so messy.
“Well, a girl like me is leaving,” I say and move to stand up.
“Wait,” he says hurriedly. “This reservation was really hard to get. At least sit and enjoy your meal. We’ve known each other long enough to keep a friendly relationship, Wren. This isn’t even our first break up. Please, eat.”
The food looks fantastic, and I am starving after that glass of wine. Jay is hovering above his seat as he waits for me to decide. He’s hungry, too, if the trail mix that got shoved back into his pocket is any indicator. “Wouldn’t want to waste this expensive dinner,” I say with a feigned calmness as I sit back down. I hear the tremble in my voice. And it’s not for losing Maxwell. Not really. It’s for the embarrassment, and the feeling of being… not enough but also too much for yet another person.
Maxwell gives me a small, relieved smile until I pick up his plate. I also pick up my plate of steak and hold them both up to Jay with a quirked eyebrow. His eyes are filled with a warm amusement before he chooses the steak. I loudly plop the plate down in front of him and hand him my refilled wine glass before reaching across for Maxwell’s glass. I feel a hush fall over the restaurant and our waitress stands nervously two tables behind Maxwell. Her eyes are wide with fear we’re about to cause everyone around us to ask for refunds and leave shitty tips.
“Wren, seriously! Oh Wren, come on! This is ridiculous!” Maxwell hisses at me as I take a huge, unladylike bite of his fish. I can’t tell what fish it is; it is so laden with a dill sauce that honestly went so far it came back around to taste like a fancy ranch dressing. I stuff two gumball sized potatoes into my mouth next.
“Mm, this is good,” I say through a mouth stuffed full of food and an excited nod to Jay. My voice is thick and my cheeks extended like a chipmunk.
“Mmhm,” he mumbles through his own bite. I look over to see him holding out his mask with one hand and ripping into the steak, sauce dripping down the other wrist. He immediately and without question matched my vibe and a small part of me wants to break into hysterical laughter.
We devour the two meals in seconds in an almost animalistic fashion before chugging both glasses of wine. I wipe my face, throw my napkin down on the table, and stand up. If I could belch on command, I’d do it now.
“I would say it’s been fun, but we both know that’s false,” I say slightly breathlessly from eating so quickly. “Goodbye Maxwell.”
I turn and catwalk to the door, Jay hot on my heels. I keep my head high as I move to the hostess stand. Almost everyone in the restaurant is staring at me. A few kitchen staff have even poked their heads out the staff door to watch. I was a spectacle, but thankfully, anyone that knows me is under a strict NDA and can never say a thing. At the hostess stand, she shakily reaches out to accept the money I hand her.
“I’m sorry about the scene I caused. This will cover the cost of dinner and a great tip. I would appreciate it if you all kept this quiet,” I say in a whisper to her.
“Oh my gosh, I would never,” she says quickly, her eyes wide.
I paste on a smile and leave the restaurant. I hand the valet my ticket and begin to pace. The adrenaline, shame, hurt, and anger all come rushing to the surface. A breath catches in my throat and I try to steady it. A squeaking whimper slips out and I bite my lip. I pull my phone out of my purse and try to look composed as I type with shaking fingers and tear-blurred eyes.
ME: Where are you?
GEMMA: Club Copper.
GEMMA: Why? Thought you were with Maxi Pad.
ME: He broke up with me
GEMMA: Holy shit I hate him
ME: I made a scene at Emerald and Cedar
GEMMA: As you should. Am I coming to you or are you coming to me?
ME: I’m coming to you.
I put my phone in my purse and spin to see my car coming down the road. The spin on my stiletto heels has me stumbling on the broken concrete and then catching in the sidewalk’s seam. I go down hard and fast.
I cry out and Jay lifts me from the ground a split second after my knees met it. Quick enough my fall went unseen by most, but slow enough that blood still wells up on my knees.
“Fuck,” I groan as I look down at my blood-streaked shins. I snap my tear-filled gaze up to Jay and say, “What good are you for then, if not to protect me from falling?”
“You went down so fast I would have only been able to catch you if I was already holding you,” Jay gripes back.
The valet gets out and comes around with a smile at me and Jay. His face falls to my legs, and he blanches. “Oh, are you okay, Miss?”
“She’s alright, I’ll take care of her,” Jay says and takes my keys from him.
I fumble in my purse and gave him a wad of cash, since he now has to clean a few layers of my skin and a pint of blood off the concrete. My tears blind me enough I don’t fight when Jay gently leads me to the passenger seat of my car. He shuts the door and comes around to his side of the car, sliding in and adjusting the seat back quickly.
With a rev of the engine, we pull out of the valet space and down a few roads to a well lit but private parking garage. It looks like it’s for an apartment complex. Jay waves his Safe House ID to the nervous lot attendant and pulls over to a parking space marked with someone’s apartment number. He gets out and jogs around to my side of the car. I think he’s about to make me get back in the driver’s seat. Instead he gently pushes me back into the seat when I move to get up.
“I’ll clean up your cuts. I have first aid training,” he says and reaches under my seat and comes out with the first aid kit. He kneels at my feet on the pavement. The lights are bright on us and I stare at the top of his head. His eyes assess my broken skin clinically and professionally. He doesn’t even glance up my dress at my lacy panties, even though he has the perfect vantage point.
I lean my head sideways on the seat and let myself sob. It isn’t that I was in love with Maxwell. It isn’t that he broke my heart. I cry because I feel like I’m running out of options. Dad only approves of a tiny portion of men, and I have gone through them all. Some of them twice or three times. I’m probably a joke to them all at parties. It doesn’t matter who my dad is or how much he is worth. Cringe is cringe. And apparently, I am so unlikeable they can’t even stick with me to access my dad’s business and wealth. God, I could really go for a handsome, decent, gold digger.
Jay swipes a cold cloth over my knees and I suck in a breath at the sting. “I know, but you’ll be okay,” he murmurs at me. He lifts his mask enough to lean closer to me and blow cool air over my knees to dry the alcohol. I shiver and fight the urge to clench my thighs. His breath smells like peppercorn and wine.
“How was the steak?” I ask through my sniffles.
His breath shakes like he’s laughing. “It was good, thank you.”
“I told you I would feed you,” I say and heave a big, gross sniff.
Jay’s electric blue eyes meet mine. He looks almost caringly up at me, a small crease between his brows. I wipe at my eyes to see him more clearly, but he goes back to his work in bandaging my knee.
“He’s not worth your tears,” Jay whispers.
“I’m not even crying for him!” I say with a maniacal sounding laugh. “I’m crying because not one of them- the guys my dad has approved for me to date, I mean- could stand to be around me! None of them wanted a space on my dad’s business board, or legal team, or whatever, bad enough to be with me.”
“That’s a relationship you want?” Jay asks as he places a bandage over my right knee.
“No, it’s not. But the fact I’m the daughter of a billionaire didn’t even provide that for me is what’s humiliating,” I scoff.
“Or, despite your incompatibility, your dad chose reputable men,” Jay reasons as he unwraps another bandage.
“Well, maybe I want a non-reputable man. Maybe he could make me come,” I grouse, mostly to myself, with my arms crossed over my chest.
Jay’s hands knock against my knee as he startles. I snort a laugh. I’m so used to Jays not responding to me I forgot to censor my speech. Sometimes this Jay speaks to me like he is a real person under that black mask and code name. And for the first time in a long time, I wonder who this Blue Jay is. This Blue Jay with the gentle but callused hands, expressive, ocean blue eyes, and who was on my side against Maxwell in the restaurant.
“I want to go dancing with Gemma,” I say suddenly, as he places the final bandage. “She’s at Club Copper.”
“And is this some place I’m going to be made fun of in the office for?” Jay asks.
“No, it’s a regular club. A dance one,” I say and giggle as he puts the first aid kit back.
“Won’t your knees hurt?” Jay asks when he gets back into the driver’s seat.
“Not if I have enough tequila,” I say and begin the big job of fixing my makeup.
“Wren and Blue Jay are leaving Emerald and Cedar, destination Club Copper,” Jay says into his earpiece before running his hands over my car’s steering wheel fondly and starting the engine.