Chapter 21
21
Cat
I ’m yawning when we pull up to a soaring Midtown hotel. Theo takes one look at me and tells his driver that we’ll be getting the items to go.
“Wait here. Don’t fall asleep.”
He climbs back in just minutes later, after passing Daniel a large bag to put in the trunk.
“What was that?” My curiosity is piqued, even though I’m tired.
“Dessert.” His eyes are gleaming with excitement. “My favorite. There’s a fantastic pastry shop inside this hotel. It’s open all night, and everything they make is delicious.”
When we get back to the house, he unpacks little gold boxes with pink ribbons and foiled packets with elegant script.
“Did you buy the whole store?” I ask when it’s all laid out on the kitchen island.
“I bought one of everything.” He’s examining the spread with arms crossed, like a warrior deciding what to attack first. “You didn’t eat dinner. Are you hungry? ”
“I had some canapés. I’m not hungry. It was too unsettling seeing my father.”
“Unsettling? You looked fucking terrified. I thought you were having a panic attack.” Theo’s eyes are concerned when he looks at me.
“It’s okay. I was just…surprised.” I gesture for a spoon. “I don’t want to talk about my family. Tell me about your unhealthy fascination with dessert, please.”
“It’s the best part of a meal. Some people live to eat, and some people live to eat dessert,” he says cheerfully. “Come on, princess. Don’t you want to live?” He tugs on the lid of a gold box, and it twists open, unfurling like a flower until a single perfect pink cake is displayed.
The cake is beautiful, glazed in ombre that lightens near to white and darkens nearly to red. Gold lines cross the top. This is exactly the kind of thing I would have been denied living in my parents’ house. The thought makes me pause and set the spoon down on the table. Once on the lips, forever on the hips. Good girls don’t misbehave. You know better than to play with the Archer boy, Catherine. He’s beneath you. If you don’t want him punished, you’ll go to your room with no dinner. I press my palms to my eyes. I haven’t thought about these things in a long time.
“What’s wrong?” Theo asks softly.
“Bad memories,” I say. “I don’t think I can. I don’t need any cake, Theo. It’s okay,” I finish lamely. He’s been kind to me these last few weeks, but dessert feels like forbidden fruit, and he’s the snake in the garden of Eden. Don’t reach for too much, Cat Peterson.
He shrugs and digs into the cake. It’s pink and white on the inside too, and the scent of lychee wafts up to my nose. He sucks the spoon between his lips, and an expression of pure pleasure crosses his face.
“I can’t let you miss this.” He drops onto the stool next to me and scoops another big bite. “Open.”
“I’m not a child.”
He presses a thumb to my bottom lip, tugging at the flesh, fire in those green eyes. “Open, princess. Or I’ll make you open.”
I open and suck the spoon into my mouth. His eyes flare as he watches me, and wow. The cake is really good. A soft sound of approval comes from my throat. The lychee flavor is strong, and the cake is perfectly tender.
“Good, right?” He’s smiling crookedly at me.
“Incredible,” I admit.
“Let’s try another one. But me first, to make sure it’s not poisoned.” He unwraps the second package to reveal a single berry tart. Theo’s eyes flutter shut when he tastes it. “Lemon raspberry.” He gives me a small bite, and I sigh with happiness.
“I never do things like this.” The words slip out, and Theo stills.
“Never eat dessert?”
I shake my head. Eat dessert, try new experiences, live for myself. All things that are new to me. “That’s why I have the list.”
“Eat dessert every day should be on it. I can supply the dessert, even. As long as I get half.”
“Magnanimous of you,” I say solemnly.
“Let’s see it, then.” He raises his brows.
Do I really want to show him this? I dig through my school bag on the counter for the worn piece of paper. Theo has done so much, and this list is pathetic. Is he going to judge me? Hell, I judge myself.
Before I can chicken out, I slap the paper down on the table, making sure he can’t see the back. There’s no way I’m letting him see those items, much less help with them.
“Tread water for five minutes. Nice. See the sunrise from a rooftop. Go streaking.” His gaze flicks up. “Streaking, eh? Wouldn’t have pegged you for the type.”
I’m so not, but it was the first thing I thought of that seemed naughty and out of character. “Don’t make fun of the list,” I say.
“Learn to cook one thing really well. Get my palm read. Learn to play poker. Dance on a table.” He holds out a hand. “Pass me a pen.”
“Why? This is my list, not yours.”
“But it’s so boring, princess. I thought you wanted to live.” He raises his brows.
I roll my eyes at his dumb nickname for me. “Fine,” I say, smacking a pencil down on the table .
Theo crosses out dancing on a table and in the margins writes dance with my husband. “Stay out all night. Hell yes. Do something bad and don’t get in trouble.” He grins at me. “Catherine, you naughty girl. What kind of bad thing were you thinking? Because I can tell you right now, skydiving naked is a terrible idea. Even with the jockstrap, my privates hurt for days.”
My eyes fly wide before a laugh tears out of me. I can’t help but look at his privates and wince.
“Eyes up here, baby.”
I jerk my gaze back to his face. “I’m sorry. I just—the image of you skydiving with your junk flopping in the air.” I shrug helplessly.
“I’m glad my pain can be a source of amusement for you, wife.” Theo’s eyes glint, and a smile plays on his lips. “And it wasn’t flopping. That’s the point.”
“I swear, you are lucky to be alive.”
“I am.” He looks back down at the paper. “What kind of bad thing are we talking?”
“I don’t know. I made the list in haste, okay?”
He makes a new bullet point and writes Graffiti something small .
“Theo,” I exclaim. “Graffiti? Only if it’s artful graffiti. Nothing lewd.”
He huffs a laugh. “You’re a goody two-shoes.” He keeps writing. “Get to know my husband. Race cars. Learn to kite surf.”
I reach over to try and grab the list, but he jerks it away. “Be serious.”
“I’m deadly serious.” He points at the paper. “In fact, you can combine car racing and doing something bad, I think. Kill two birds with one stone.”
“Efficient of you.” I fight a smile.
“That’s me. All about… efficiency , baby.” He imbues the words with innuendo, and my smile grows.
He keeps scanning the list, and I know he’s seeing the things I’d rather not talk about.
Take over Peterson International
Open a bank accoun t
Get my own apartment
“You can give it back now,” I say quietly, willing him not to ask.
“What are these?” His eyes meet mine, soft and serious.
“Real things. I opened the bank account already.” I shrug, like they don’t matter. “You know I want the company.”
“Why?” He tilts his head.
“My father is ruining it. Profit is down, they’ve had layoffs, they cut benefits. There was a sexual harassment suit last year.” I could go on, but we’d be here all night. Anger simmers inside me, potent and hot. The company was my mother’s family company, and it should have been mine. Without my father, there wouldn’t have been layoffs, or that woman on the news saying she was the subject of racist jokes at work.
“I’m not surprised,” Theo says. “But I meant why do you want to run it?”
I take a breath to tell him about the diary and how my mom always wanted the company for herself. How it’s been my dream for years and I know I can do it, even if no one else thinks I can.
Before I can speak, his mouth hitches up. “I can’t picture you running a company.”
The breath whooshes out of me.
Theo is just like everyone else. Just like my father. Judging me and finding me lacking.
His eyes widen as he looks at me. “That’s not what I meant.”
“It’s exactly what you meant,” I say with a sense of calm I don’t feel. I congratulate myself silently for keeping it together as I push back from the counter.
“I just didn’t think you’d want the company. It’s not something you’ve ever seemed to be interested in.”
“Did it ever occur to you that I wasn’t allowed to be interested in it?”
His expression takes on a desperate edge. “Fuck, Cat. I didn’t know. I just thought that you didn’t care.”
Of course. I’m still a spoiled brat to Theo. I always have been. I reach over to rip the list out of his hand. The top corner tears off, but I shove it into my pocket anyway.
“You know, Theo. I’ve heard that enough from everyone else. Maybe one day I’ll start to believe it. But until then, I’m done sharing with you.”
I stalk out of the kitchen, but he follows, because of course he does. I make it all the way to my bedroom door before I round on him. Regret is written across his handsome face.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
“What did you say?” Surprise makes me blink. My anger fizzles in the face of Theo’s misery.
“I’m so fucking sorry.” He brushes a thumb over my cheek, where I didn’t realize I was crying until now. “And I’ll help you get the company from him, if that’s what you want.”
“What do you want in exchange?” I cross my arms. This marriage is all about trades. My freedom for the shares. My secrets in exchange for his assistance.
“Nothing,” he says. “I don’t need anything in exchange. Good night.” He gives me a small smile and heads to his bedroom.
I go to bed with an aching heart, trying to forget that Theo is there, on the other side of the wall. So close and still so far away.