Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Seraphine
It’s Saturday afternoon and I just woke up. It’s been a long time since I allowed myself to sleep in, but I guess I needed it after the late night dinner and shared bottle of wine with Mr. Caldwell.
I make myself a quick breakfast and get dressed in a fresh pair of pajamas. I don’t plan on leaving my house today. There’s something I’ve been wanting to do for a while, and I shouldn’t put it off any longer.
Picking up my old cell, because I still haven’t gotten rid of it, I open up a contact I haven’t looked at in a long time.
Gia.
I send her a simple text asking if we could talk. I stare at the screen for at least a minute, and when I don’t get an answer, I put it down and hope she didn’t see it yet or has a new number, and not that she’s choosing to ignore me.
Picking up my new phone, I send a text to Justine to check in.
She has my new number because we chat here and there.
She’s bummed that I quit the spa but understands why.
Clara made a fuss about me taking time off after the situation with my father’s death, and so I just quit.
That was before I had even looked at the contract with Caldwell Enterprises.
It’s a good thing it all worked out. I’d likely be out on the street, since I still haven’t heard anything back about my father’s estate.
Justine: All’s good here. Same old crap.
Me: *sad face*
Justine: We should do lunch soon.
Me: Next weekend?
Justine: It’s a date.
I’ve spent a lot of time on the couch since being in this apartment.
I think it’s my favorite place here. The bed is comfortable, but there’s something special about this couch.
Nothing to do with the fact that Elliot sat on it, and I swear I can still smell him.
It’s more to do with how soft it is, the view out the window, and the vibe of the room.
It’s bright yet relaxing, unlike my bedroom which is darker, yet also relaxing in the sense it makes me want to sleep.
I don’t want to sleep when I’m out here, but I’m calm.
As I stare at the TV, my thoughts drift to dinner last night.
It felt so much like a date, yet I know it wasn’t.
Things with Elliot and me are… tough to explain.
There’s this back and forth, up and down.
Some days the sexual tension is so high you could cut it with a knife, and the next day we’re getting along like childhood friends.
Only that’s impossible because he’s old enough to be my father.
Still, there’s something nice about being able to have different dynamics with one person.
Isn’t the goal to marry your best friend?
Now, I’m not saying I’m going to marry Elliot Caldwell, not even close!
I’m just saying it’s nice to have someone that you can be yourself with, and that each day is different, yet you know it’ll all be the same.
I’m grateful for him. He came into my life for reasons much different from how they turned out.
Harrison obviously sent him to me to clean up the mess he made, and then…
well, I don’t really know what happened.
He felt bad for me? Realized his son is the one who screwed up and didn’t want to keep cleaning up his messes?
I don’t have much information about their relationship prior to guess Elliot’s feelings on it. Asking gets me nowhere.
Maybe this is as confusing to him as it is to me. Or maybe he’s just trying to keep distance without being a jerk. He doesn’t want me to get the wrong idea…
Yet… I’ve had his dick in my hand. I’ve seen his cum-covered stomach, heard the pleasurable sounds that leave his mouth when he comes. I’ve heard him begging for me, and I’ve heard him plead for me to feed him me for dessert.
He wants me.
In some capacity, that man wants me. And that makes me feel good in ways nothing else ever has. Not even his son.
I’m afraid to lose that. It may not be healthy, but I’m thriving on the way Elliot Caldwell makes me feel. The things he says to me, the way he looks at me… it’s given me the confidence to move forward in life. To leave the things that held me back in the past.
I’m afraid that I need him. I’m not so stupid to think I could have him, but I do have him in some way, I suppose. For now, anyway. As my boss and maybe my friend?
If I were to give him what he wanted, if I gave in to these cravings and allowed him to have my body, how quickly would he shove me aside after?
Would he no longer look at me the same? No longer say things that make me feel on top of the world?
What’s the point if he’s already gotten what he wanted?
No, leading him like a dog on a leash isn’t fair, but… he started all of this. I may as well take what he’s offering. He’ll be fine in the end. It’s me who may not be.
I’m worried that my self-control is waning. I almost invited him up to my apartment last night. I wanted to, and I’m not sure how I managed to tell him no. The thought of finally giving in and allowing him to please me the way I pleased him… it’s a tempting thought. So very tempting.
He’s handsome, rich, powerful… but more than that, he makes me feel good.
If he can do that outside of the bedroom, I’m sure he can inside the bedroom too.
Not to mention he’s older, more experienced, and likely knows his way around a woman’s body.
It should bother me, and maybe there’s a tinge of jealousy there, but really, I just want to experience it—experience him.
My phone dings—my old phone—pulling me from my fantasies about Elliot Caldwell in my bed, his face buried between my legs for hours, not able to get enough of me. Begging me to stay, to let him keep going, even though I feel like I’m going to pass out. Why is it so bad to just be wanted?
The phone could be one of two people—spam or Gia.
Grabbing the phone, I suck in a sharp breath when I see one word back from Gia.
Sure.
I sit up straighter, happy and relieved over her accepting my proposal. Hopefully this means she’s willing to forgive me.
Me: Do you want to come to my new place? Or we can go for a drink? Dinner?
I send it, then read it over. It sounds a little desperate but oh well. I miss my best friend and there’s nothing I regret in this world more than screwing that up. Why would I ever think giving up a friendship of fifteen years was worth any man?
Gia: Will Harrison be there?
Me: No.
I don’t want to tell her that we broke up via text.
I don’t want her to think that’s the only reason I want to hang out with her.
I want to see her, talk to her, and catch her up on my life.
I’m not doing this because Harrison isn’t in my life anymore—well, not really.
I’m doing it because I miss my best friend, and I made a mistake that I need to apologize for.
Gia: Send me the address. I’ll be by in an hour?
Me: Sounds good
I send her the address, and then busy myself with tidying my apartment.
It isn’t dirty—I’m not here enough for it to get messy or dirty.
It hardly looks lived in. Unless you go into the bedroom.
That looks like a tornado hit it, but I find it more comfortable that way.
If it’s too neat, I feel like I shouldn’t be sleeping in there.
I realize I don’t have any alcohol here, so I call down to the front desk and request someone go get it for me.
It’s awkward and makes me feel weird to ask someone to do something like that for me, but Elliot assured me they would get anything I needed at any time of the day.
I’m pretty sure that’s only a me thing and not something they do for any of the tenants here.
And as weird as it makes me feel, I don’t hate it. Elliot is spoiling me.
When there is a knock at my door some time later, I pull it open expecting Gia, but see one of the doormen. I’d completely forgotten I’d sent them to get stuff for me.
“Thank you so much, George,” I say as I take the bottle of wine adorned with a pink bow.
“You’re very welcome, Miss Sinclair. Be sure to let us know if you need anything else.”
I’m just going to close the door when I spot Gia, carefully walking down the hall and looking toward my door with a furrowed brow.
“Evening, Miss,” George says to Gia before walking off. She stops in front of the door, turning toward me. She looks as beautiful as ever with wavy blond hair, tan skin, and big blue eyes surrounded in black makeup.
“Hi,” I say.
“Hey.”
She gives a small smile.
“Come in,” I tell her, then move aside. “They just brought up some wine for us. Do you want a glass?”
“That would be great,” she says, looking around the place with eager eyes. “This is nice. Harrison finally get a job or something?”
I grab two glasses from the rack and place them on the counter. I turn to her and say, “Actually, we broke up.”
Her eyes widen. “Oh?”
“Yeah. He, uh… he cheated on me.”
“He did?” She sounds truly shocked. She never liked him much, but I always thought it was because I was blowing her off for him. Maybe it was more than that.
“With his stepsister.”
“Ouch.”
I nod. There’s not much else to say. I pour wine into the glasses, hand her one, then grab the bottle and gesture for her to follow me into the living room. We get comfortable on the couch, both of us on opposite ends, curling our feet up, wine in hand.
“So, tell me what happened,” she urges.
I get into the story, explaining it all, which doesn’t take long. Then we fall into conversation about everything we’ve been up to over the last year, what we’re doing now, and plans for the future. Talking to her is so easy, and when I’ve moved onto my second glass, I’m feeling emotional.
“I’m so sorry, Gia. It was awful of me to do that to you. To us.”
“Yeah, it was,” she says simply. “But I understand. Relationships have ups and downs, right?”
“Right,” I agree.
“So, are you seeing anyone new?”
“No,” I answer.
“That was way too quick.” She grins behind her glass.
“I’m not!”
“Uh-huh.”
“Seriously, I’m not!”
And of course, that very moment, my cell rings and it’s right there on the coffee table for us both to see. We both look at it, and Gia’s eyes go as wide as the moon.
“Elliot Caldwell?” She gasps, then turns to me. “Why is he calling you?”
I snatch my phone up and push the button to silence it. “He’s my boss.”
She gasps again, this time reaching over to slap me playfully.
“How did you manage to leave out that you’re working for your ex’s father?”
My ex’s father, who calls me again, but again, I push the button to ignore it.
“Shouldn’t you answer that?” She raises a brow.
“No, I don’t work on Saturdays.”
Though I have a feeling this has nothing to do with work. The last time he called me this late, he was drunk. It’s probably the same right now, and if Gia weren’t here, I’d gladly answer.
Gia narrows her eyes, giving me a look like she knows something is up, but I’m not getting into that conversation with her—or anyone. If I won’t acknowledge it myself, why in the world would I share it with others?
“Besides, I’m here with you,” I say. “And I’m not letting anyone come between us again.”
She smiles again, then turns toward the TV and grabs the remote from the coffee table. “Let’s find something funny to watch.”
I end up asking the front desk to get me more wine because we run out, and they do without issue.
We watch movie after movie after movie until we both fall asleep on the couch.
I’m woken up deep into the night by someone knocking on my door.
I carefully get up, finding Gia curled up against the side of the couch.
I cover her with my fluffy blanket, put the wine glass on the coffee table from off the floor, then go to the door.
Checking the time on the microwave, I see it’s nearly three. Who the heck could be here?
Looking through the peephole, I see Elliot. He looks as handsome as ever, though slightly tired.
I pull the door open and slip out. He frowns at me. “What’s going on? Is everything okay?” I ask quietly.
“I called you,” he says accusingly, looking past me and at my door, as if he’ll be able to see into it through the one-inch crack I left.
“I know, but I’m with a friend, and—”
“Who?” he demands.
“A friend.”
“A male friend?”
I scoff, crossing my arms over my chest. “Are we really having this conversation right now?” He flinches, looking as if I’ve wounded him. I relent, letting out a sigh. “It’s not a guy, Elliot. It’s an old friend. Someone I lost touch with because of Harrison.”
“Shit.” He runs a hand through his hair, glancing down the hall then back to me. “I’m sorry, Seraphine. This is… I’m…” He shakes his head, reaching out to put his hand on my cheek. “I needed to hear your voice tonight, and when you didn’t answer, I panicked.”
I blink slowly, taking in the emotion written all over his face. Did something happen? Why is he being so emotional?
“I’m sorry. I should have answered.”
“No. I understand why you didn’t. I’m wrong here.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong, but… I should get back inside before she wakes up.”
He looks back at my apartment for a quick second before giving me a nod.
“Can I take you out for breakfast?”
“Can we make it lunch? I’ve had a lot to drink.”
He cracks a smile, which makes me smile. “Of course.”
He leans forward, kissing my forehead. “Good night, Seraphine.”
“Night, Elliot.”
I watch as he walks down the hall, giving me a longing look before stepping around the corner to go to the elevator.
And I know without a doubt, that if Gia weren’t here, I would have invited him in, and not a single part of me would have felt bad about it.