Chapter 11 #2
That thought rattled around in my head for longer than it should’ve, and I smiled, imagining him climbing into bed after I was gone and smelling my perfume on his pillow.
I needed my head examined because I took a moment to consider whether I had the small, roller-ball cylinder of perfume I sometimes carried in my purse with me.
Though I stopped myself from actually going to find out and instead walked to the door on the other side of the room.
I figured it was a bathroom or closet, and it turned out to be both—an amazing bathroom, with a shower big enough for a party and a separate tub across from double vanity sinks, and a door that led into an oversized closet with dark wood built-ins.
A center island showcased perfectly folded ties and sunglasses under glass, and both sides of the closet were lined with rows and rows of clothes.
Suits and shirts on one side, and casual stuff on the other.
I’d thought I was organized until seeing this place.
I fingered through the suits, noting he had not one, but at least three tuxedos, and he favored Tom Ford and Brunello Cucinelli suits.
It was all very nice, but also very expected, and didn’t tell me much I didn’t already know about the man.
I was just about to turn around and take a run at the bedside nightstand—maybe that’s where he kept his secrets—when I spotted an old black trunk tucked in the corner.
I stilled, listening for any sounds to indicate Jagger had returned before dropping to my knees and creaking open the top.
Oh boy. My eyes flared wide. Welp, I guess I found it—his treasure trove of sex paraphernalia, that is. Though I would’ve expected more along the lines of floggers and silk blindfolds, not hot pink boas and tiaras. What the hell was he into? Playing princess-and-bodyguard or something?
“I knew you were young, but you’re not that young.”
I jumped, startled by the unexpected deep voice, and sprawled flat on my ass. My hand covered my pounding heart as I looked up and found Jagger looking pleased with himself.
“You scared the shit out of me,” I said, incredulous. “You were only gone five minutes.”
“The restaurant is right next door. I would’ve been faster, but they warmed the food up.”
“I didn’t even hear you come in.”
“I didn’t realize I had to knock.”
He held a hand out to me, and I took it.
The second he closed his fingers around mine, my pulse took off like a runaway train.
I’d had that reaction to him before, but this time I could tell by his face and the way he stared down at our connection that he felt it too.
Jagger quickly took his hand back once I got to my feet.
I felt certain my face was turning red, and I wasn’t sure if it was from what his touch did to me or getting caught going through his private things. I brushed invisible dirt from my ass, looking anywhere but at him. “I…I…you told me I could snoop.”
“I thought you’d be interested in my things rather than my nieces’.”
“Your…” I looked at the still-open trunk—the tiara, the boas, the pink fabric I hadn’t yet had a chance to pull out from underneath. “Nieces’?”
Jagger’s eyes narrowed. “Did you think I wore pink princess costumes?”
“I…thought maybe that was your kink.”
He looked at me for a few seconds before bursting out in laughter. It was such genuine amusement, I started smiling just watching him.
“You thought I liked women to dress up in tiaras and tutus?”
“What was I supposed to think? Your apartment is otherwise insanely organized, and I didn’t find anything nefarious at all.”
“Nefarious?”
I nodded.
Jagger thumbed over his shoulder. “I guess you didn’t check the nightstand then?”
My eyes widened. “What’s in the nightstand?”
He chuckled and put his hand on my back. “Come on, Columbo. The food is getting cold.”
I let him lead me out of the closet, through the bathroom, and almost out the bedroom door. But when I saw the nightstand, I slowed. “What’s in there?”
He tugged me the rest of the way into the hall. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
A takeout bag sat on the kitchen counter. Jagger took out two plates, utensils, and glasses. “Are you vegan or anything?”
“Nope. I like meat.”
He raised a brow and shook his head without commenting, then turned and opened the refrigerator. “What do you want to drink? I’m guessing wine or other alcohol isn’t very appealing right now.”
“Definitely not. I’ll just take some water, please.”
He busied himself in the kitchen and then brought everything over to the dining room table and peeled back the lids of the tins. A delicious aroma wafted through the air. “I have chicken Milanese and cacio e pepe. You want some of both?”
“Mmmm... I wasn’t even that hungry until I smelled it. But yeah, I’ll try a little of both.”
Jagger prepared two plates and sat across from me. The poor guy must’ve been starving because he dug right in.
“So…” I said. “How many nieces do you have?”
“Two, Olivia and Amelia. They’re four and five, and I had to buy that box of dress-up clothes because they were invading my closet and wearing my stuff for fun.”
I smiled. “It’s sweet that you keep a trunk of stuff for them here.”
“They lived with me for a while. They’re in Ohio now—or at least they were when I spoke to them a week ago.”
“Wow. Really? Did just your nieces live with you or your sister, too?”
“Just the girls. My sister has some issues. Like my mom, she’s in and out of mental-health facilities a lot.”
“Oh.” I frowned. “I’m sorry.”
“I only told you half the story earlier when I said the company keeps an apartment in the building for corporate visitors. That’s what we use it for now, but I originally had it for my sister and the girls. I was hoping they’d stay here so I could keep an eye on them.”
“Your sister didn’t want to live in New York?”
“She never stays in one place for long. Catherine is schizophrenic and struggles with paranoia. It makes her move around a lot, especially when she’s not taking her meds like she’s supposed to.”
That didn’t sound good. “But she’s okay taking care of her daughters?”
“She is.” Jagger met my eyes. “Until she isn’t.”
“That must be hard on the girls, and your entire family.”
“It could be worse. There’re a lot of people out there who struggle with mental health but have no support system.
I had the Emersons growing up, and my sister has me.
The hard part is navigating when I need to step in with the girls.
Usually Cat will come to me when things are getting bad and let me help.
But the last time, my five-year-old niece had to call me because my sister had spiraled to such a bad place.
I wound up having to fight her in court to get temporary custody, and now I’ve become part of her paranoia.
Some days she thanks me for helping and always being there for her, and other days she thinks I want to take her kids away from her because I don’t have my own. ”
Ever since I walked into the Copa bar that first night, I’d felt a strange pull to this man.
It was an attraction I’d never experienced before, and in this moment, the pull was so much more than physical.
I wanted to know everything about him. I wanted to smooth out the little creases that marred his forehead when he spoke about his family and kiss the tension from his perfectly shaped lips.
Ridiculous, I know, considering he was my boss, or more aptly, he was my boss’s boss’s boss.
Not to mention my stepfather’s boss, too.
So instead, I opted to share something I rarely discussed.
“I was your nieces’ age when I lost my dad, so I know how difficult it is to have a parent there one minute and gone the next.”
He nodded. “I knew Edmund was your stepfather. I remember when I first opened Apex seven years ago and interviewed him. He said he had just gotten married two weeks before. But I didn’t realize your father had passed away. Was he sick?”
I shook my head. “Car accident. My parents were already divorced at the time. He fell asleep at the wheel on his way home from his second job.”
“Damn. I’m sorry.”
I shrugged. “Like you said, it could be worse. I could not have my mom.” I smiled. “I’m glad the girls have you to rely on.”
He shook his head. “How the hell did we go down such a dark path in conversation?”
“I believe it was my fault, when I uncovered what I thought was your sex toy box.”
He smiled and twirled his fork in his pasta. “Tell me how your first week went.”
“It was good. I’ve learned a lot about the company.
They showed us the simulator the analysts use to run models to optimize stock predictions, but next week I get to see pieces of the proprietary software that runs the algorithms. Ellie said she’s going to see if we can watch the testing of the upgrade they’re working on. ”
“I think they’re at the end phase where they manually test the results. It’s not too exciting—the team spends a week locked in a room with whiteboards doing math problems that take hours to compute and check one output on the new software. Probably boring to watch.”
“Are you kidding? I’m a total math geek. I love stuff like that. Ellie said I can bring a notebook and do my own computations, as long as I’m quiet and don’t disrupt the analysts.”
Jagger smiled. “I used to get excited about quant models, too.”
“Used to? What happened? Did you get burned out or something?”
He shook his head. “I don’t have that kind of free time anymore. These days I go to a dozen meetings a day instead.”
“You’re the boss.” I shrugged. “Just don’t go to the meeting.”
He smiled. “You make it sound so simple.”
“Or…” I pointed my fork at him. “You’re making it more complicated than it is.”
He laughed. “Maybe you’re right.”
We managed to keep things light while we finished eating. After, I insisted on cleaning up. His dishwasher was empty, but I wasn’t ready to leave that fast, so I washed the dishes by hand before drying them.
“Any good plans this weekend?” he asked.
I folded the hand towel. “Not really. I need to find a gym I can join for a few months.”
“There’s an Equinox right near the office.”
“Let me rephrase that. I need to find an affordable gym for the summer.”
Jagger smiled. “Apex employees get a pretty good discount if they join.”
“Oh really? Maybe I’ll check it out. What about you? Any plans this weekend?”
“Work all day tomorrow, hit the gym on the way home. Nothing too exciting.”
I nibbled my bottom lip, debating asking what I really wanted to ask.
Screw it—I’d asked this man if I could snoop around his apartment and then got caught doing so.
Though I felt a heck of a lot more sober after eating, so I wasn’t as brazen.
I could still probably blame it on the shots. “No date?”
Jagger’s eyes met mine. He shook his head. “Not this weekend.”
A stab of jealousy hit. If he didn’t have any dates lined up, wouldn’t he have just said no? But “not this weekend” alluded to him having one another weekend, didn’t it?
“What about next weekend?”
“What about it?”
“Do you have one then? You said not this weekend.”
“I’d have to check my calendar. But I don’t believe so.”
“Oh.” I looked down, suddenly feeling awkward—like I’d overstayed my welcome. “I guess I should get going.”
Jagger’s face was impassive. I had no idea what he was thinking. Yet I waited to see if he’d suggest I stay for a while. When he didn’t, I felt deflated.
“Okay, then,” I mumbled and checked my watch. “Is there a back exit to the building? Happy hour is until eleven, and I wouldn’t want anyone to see me coming off the elevator and get the wrong idea.”
“You’re concerned about what people might think of you?”
I shook my head. “Not me.”
“I told you, I give no fucks what people think of me.” Jagger lifted his cell phone and texted while he spoke. “There’s a service entrance, but you’re not taking it. Sam will drive you home.”
“It’s fine. I can take the subway.”
“Sam,” he said firmly, “will take you home.”
Something inside me stirred at the sternness of his tone.
I liked it. A lot. Though I also found that confusing.
If I’d told Brendan I was going to do A, and he’d told me to do B, it would’ve only made me want to do A more.
Yet I found myself nodding and liking the smile on Jagger’s face when I didn’t put up more of a fight. “Okay.”
“Good. He’ll be here in five minutes.”
Too soon, he walked me to the door.
“Thank you for saving me from making a fool of myself tonight,” I said. “And for dinner.”
“Not a problem. I enjoyed the company.” He paused and caught my eye. “A little too much.”
I tilted my head. “Is there really such a thing as enjoying yourself too much?”
Jagger smiled ruefully. “There most certainly is, Ms. Holland.”