11. Siena
Siena
V in hasn’t contacted me.
After Matti dropped me off, I cleaned up and got back to work as fast as I could, hoping Vin might reach out or suggest a meeting. But nothing.
I came to work early the next day and stayed late, just in case. Still nothing. Repeated that again today, and no response. Not from him and not a word from Matti, either. I’m not sure which is worse.
At least work has been slammed, which is rare for a Friday. A full day of appointments plus walk-ins left no time for anything, including staring at my phone, wondering what the fuck I’m going to do if Vin ghosts me. Or thinking about Matti. At all.
Blake is at my desk having just locked up after our last client of the day. “Come on, girrrrl. You cannot, I repeat cannot , stay holed up in your shitty little horror story of a house for another fucking night. I’m serious.”
“My what?” I feign deep hurt. Blake literally lives in a closet in the Alphabets, so he’s madly jealous of my house, shit hole that it is.
With exaggerated air quotes, he huffs, “Oh, excuse me , your ‘palatial celestial mansion’ in the Jersey City projects. Whatever, bitch. You need to come out with me and Amelia.”
I smile, shaking my head. He’s been at this literally every day since I’ve gotten back. You’d think he’d run out of energy. Or take a hint. But no, not Blake.
“Amelia’s going?” I tease. He knows I’ll never go, but we have a script at this point.
“Yes! So you toddle your little ass home, put on something that shows off your magnificent tits, and then get back over here for drinks and then drinks,” he leans in conspiratorially. “And then more drinks.”
My phone rings, and when I see Vin’s name, my stomach is immediately in knots. I answer on the second ring, raising my finger to Blake and stepping away from my desk. “Hey, Vin—”
“This isn’t going to happen,” Vin says, cutting me off, his voice cool and detached.
“What the fuck?” I snap. Immediately, I regret my tone and try to walk it back. “Why? What’s the problem? I thought—”
“No problem. I just don’t want to,” he says matter-of-factly.
“What? But you said—”
“What I said was I’d see what I can do. And I don’t see what I can do in this situation.”
I kick the wall and turn around, throwing myself against it. “You don’t see how you could get the phone number of a woman who works for you?”
His tone is mocking and playful, like this is a game to him. “What is it with Valentina? Why do you want to see her so bad? You want a threesome with her and Matti?”
I bite back the bile rising in my throat. Just the thought of his hands on her makes me physically unwell. Not because I want him—which I abso-fucking-lutely do not —but because Valentina doesn’t deserve Matti’s attention.
His mind blowing, earth shattering, panty-melting attention.
“You’re an infant,” I snap. “If you know of someone else who can do the job, great. I don’t give a shit about Valentina. I’ll take literally anyone who can get this done with discretion. I find it hard to believe that your organization is without contacts for this purpose.”
Vin’s tone turns venomous. “I don’t owe you shit, Siena, which means ‘my organization’ is not at your disposal.
In case you haven’t noticed, princess, I give zero fucks about you or what you want.
The only reason I deal with you is to protect my boy’s interests—and my boy is no longer interested.
He’s moved on, and so should you. Lose my number. Don’t contact either of us again.”
The line goes dead.
I stand there, dumbfounded. Vin isn’t going to help me now? And Matti moved on? When? Before or after he fucked me on the hood of Vin’s car two fucking days ago?
FUCK.
I replay Matti’s words from that day, right before he pushed inside me. When I asked him about the need for protection, he said, “You’re the only one I don’t wear a condom with.” Meaning he’s been wearing them. With other women.
With a cold wave of shame, I realize why he refused to kiss me, over and over again: because he’s kissing someone else.
Is he kissing her the way he kissed me that day at the Edge? Like she’s the only woman he’s ever loved ?
Throwing my phone on my desk chair, I whirl around and kick the wall again. I shove my hands into my hair and grip it by the roots, dropping down into a squat and banging my forehead softly against the wall.
The rational part of me knows I can’t fault him for fucking other people. He was never mine. But the rational part of me is being held hostage by the part of me that wants to fuck him senseless until he realizes that he is mine—
Jesus Christ. What the fuck is wrong with me? He’s not mine.
“Girrrrlllll….” Blake lets out a low whistle. “Somebody dead? Or about to die?”
“He’s not mine!” I yell at him, standing up and kicking the wall again.
Blake’s eyes widen as he jerks away from me. “Did I…say something?”
“Fuck him, and fuck his ‘kitten!’”
Blake’s jaw drops in alarm. “Who—what—what do you think I’m saying to you?!”
I stomp over to Blake and grab him by the collar. “Get Amelia. We’re going to go drink right the fuck now. And yes, I’m wearing this, you trashy slut. I’m not going home to get changed. I’m going to get fucking wasted.”
“You look nice,” he says meekly.
“Fucking right I do,” I growl. Letting him go, I grab my bag on the way out the door.
“What’s going on?” I hear Amelia’s voice as she steps out of her office.
“Um, I don’t know, but I think we’re going to drink and fuck kittens,” Blake says, then lowers his voice to a stage whisper. “Tell her she looks nice. ”
“Woo-hoo! Finally! Siena, you look like hot shit on toast, bitch!”
I push through the door, the cold air hitting me like a slap across the face. Leaning against the tinted glass storefront, I realize I forgot my coat, but I’m too pissed to go back in.
The door opens slightly and Blake’s hand appears, holding my phone. I take it from him and it’s instantly replaced with his other hand, shaking my coat at me. Softening, I put it on. “Thanks, Blakey.”
He peeks through the crack in the door. “Don’t hurt me.”
I laugh. “I’m sorry. It’s just—bad phone call.”
He harrumphs and disappears back into the office as my phone buzzes. It’s a text from Olivia.
Gritting my teeth, I open it up. She has been harassing me for weeks to go out with her, and now I can finally give her the answer she wants.
Sieeeennnnnnaaaaaa! Tonight is the night, you
gorgeous little smut lovin’ ho. Put on your
shortest dress and your highest heels because
you ARE coming out with me tonight!
One step ahead of you. I’m drinking with
my co-workers tonight, but no slut wear.
Want to join?
YOU’RE GOING OUT WITHOUT ME?
I laugh. I can practically hear her shrieking. She and Blake are going to get along great .
I just invited you, drama queen!
Come to my place and pre-game. I’ll dress
you up. Bring your co-workers.
I sigh. I wasn’t really interested in getting dressed up in fuck-me heels and fending off drunk bros at the bar, but I would really love to punch some men in the face tonight. So. Maybe it’s not such a bad idea. Except….
You’re not asking me to go to the Edge, are you?
Hell no. I have a suite in a building in Tribeca.
She texts me the address as Amelia and Blake step out, shivering, and Amelia locks the door behind her.
“Holy shit, it’s cold! Where to? And can it be close?” Amelia hugs herself, rubbing her palms over her arms.
“Pretty close.” I give them the address and update them on Olivia’s plan.
Blake rolls his eyes as he pulls out his phone. “Girl, I am not walking that far. I’ll order an Uber, but first I have to eat. Vibe?” he asks, referencing the fusion food truck where we get our chicken tender and french fry burritos.
“We do that every day,” Amelia whines. “What about sushi?”
“We’re getting burgers,” I state, splitting a glance between them, playfully daring either to defy me.
Blake sucks his teeth. “Miss Thing is laying down the law,” he says, exchanging a look with Amelia.
“Fuck, yes. Order me to eat a burger, baby! I love it when you talk dirty to me,” she laughs, slipping her arm through mine.
I lean into her and laugh as we head into the wind. I have plenty of time to lose my shit about this later on, but right now I have just one plan: to rage drink and talk shit until I pass out.