Chapter 10
chapter ten
Pepper Spray
Tiffany
“What about this dress?” I ask Mira, pointing to the black modest high-neck dress on the rack.
Mira cuts her eyes at me and lifts a brow. “You’re going to an award ceremony, not to a damn funeral.”
I shove the dress aside and go back to scan the racks for something else. We were in one of those formal dress places in the mall.
“Every dress I pick out, you say it looks old, or too uptight.”
She doesn’t seem to like any dress I find.
Noah giggles at something his godmother does, drawing my attention to my baby boy.
“Your mother is being ridiculous, fat man. She knows good and well everything she has picked so far is ugly.” She looks back at me with a smirk.
“I don’t even know why you’re in this store?
Your husband is a millionaire. You can get a custom-made dress from a designer sent to your house.
What’s the use of having a rich man if you don’t do rich shit? ”
Instead of laughing like I usually would at her joke, I place my hands on my hips, turn and glare at her. “Just because Nico has money doesn’t mean I’m going to just use it. I make my own money, I don’t need his.”
Mira watches me closely. Her gaze narrowing.
“What’s this really about?”
Tossing my hands up in the air, I let out a breath. I hate that my best friend knows me so well. Looking around, I spot Jake leaning up against the wall a few feet away. His attention is focused outside the store and not on our conversation.
“He told me I didn’t have to take him. Can you believe him? He is my husband, and he should want to go with me. Instead, he says you can take Mira. It’s like he isn’t even trying to fix us.”
Mira cocks her head to the side. “He told you he didn’t want to go with you to a ceremony for an award he nominated you for?”
Glancing down at my feet, I cross my arms over my chest. “I mean, basically.”
It’s been a little over a week since he told me about the award.
Since then, he has been avoiding me. Usually, Nico is always finding a reason to be in the same room as me.
Hell, he was around so much I got tired of arguing with him.
Just like the morning he came into my room after my shower to tell me about spending the day with Noah.
However, suddenly I can barely find him in the house.
“What did he say exactly?”
Ugh. I repeat word for word what he said to me that day in the kitchen. Every time I think about it, my stomach seems to twist in on itself. When I finish, Mira watches me without speaking.
“Girl,” she finally says. “Something is wrong with you. That man basically begged you to take him.”
“He did not.”
“Tiff, he said he wants to go with you but understands if you’d rather take me. And just so we are clear, I’m now going to be busy that night. You are taking your husband.”
She pushes the stroller with my baby over to another rack and starts scanning through the dresses.
“You don’t understand.” I run my fingers through my blowout roughly. “Nico doesn’t ask permission. He just puts himself in my life. Him saying I can take you tells me he doesn’t want to go.”
“Or,” she says, not turning to me. “It sounds to me like a man willing to get out of his comfort zone to appease his wife.” She finally stops looking through the dresses to turn to me. “You won’t tell me what he did, I get it. But everything you’ve told me since says he is trying to fix things.”
The problem I’m having with Nico is that I question everything he does now. Nothing feels authentic. It’s like I have to stay on my toes with him because nothing is as it seems. Looking back at the start of our relationship, I missed so much. Things that should’ve been obvious.
I hate this feeling, but it is where I am with him. The last time I took everything he did for face value, I was getting kidnapped and looking over my shoulder for a fake bad guy. How can I believe that anything he says and does is real? I can’t.
“It’s hard to believe him,” I admit softly.
She places a hand on my shoulder. “The best advice I can give you is to stop overthinking and listen to your gut.”
I take in Mira’s words. Maybe that is the key. I’m so caught up in trying to read between the lines of everything he says, maybe I should just trust my gut.
“Your gut got you married and pregnant after only a few months of knowing the man.” The voice in my head points out.
Therein lies the problem. I can’t trust my gut around Nico. Clearly, the bitch doesn’t work.
We spent a few more minutes in the store before finally giving up. Mira was right, all these dresses were too basic for my night. I still wasn’t ready to relent and use Nico’s resources for a dress yet. We were headed to the food court when I heard my name called.
Turning around, I find Ezra with a bright smile and a bag in his hands.
“How’s it going?” he says as he approaches. Today he was in a gray button-up that was unbuttoned and the sleeves pushed up, a white T-shirt underneath, and black jeans with casual tennis shoes. He looked…. nice.
“Good. I see you’ve been shopping.” I point to the Saks Fifth Avenue and Rolex bags.
“I had to pick up a new pair of dress shoes, and well, I couldn’t pass up a chance to get a new watch.” He grins. “What brings you out to the mall?”
Mira and I had been here for two hours, and all we had to show for it was an Auntie Anne’s bag and some Boba tea.
“I was dress shopping.”
“Oh? You got a big event coming up?”
He crosses his arms over his chest and, for the first time, I notice a tattoo on his forearm. It’s a thin-line tattoo of two triangles, and inside the triangles is a mountain scape.
“I’m a finalist for a design award for my work with North River.”
“Seriously?” He drops his arms and smiles brightly. “That’s incredible. Congratulations.”
“Thank you.”
He looks at my empty hands before looking back at me. “You didn’t find a dress?”
I shake my head. “No. No luck yet.”
“I’m sure you’ll find something beautiful. Although I imagine everything looks good on you.”
My face heats and I tuck my hair behind my ear. If I had Ezra’s complexion, I’d be as red as a tomato. He stares at me for a moment, charging the air with energy that feels heady. The pause goes on so long that Mira clears her throat, gaining our attention.
“Hi, I’m Mira.”
Ezra chuckles, holding out a hand toward her. “Ezra Blackwell, nice to meet you.”
As soon as the greeting is out of his mouth, his eyes are back on me. It isn’t until Noah babbles that he looks away. His blue eyes go to the stroller where my son is grabbing at the toys attached to the front of the carrier.
“Is this your son?” He looks back at me with a grin.
“Yes, this is Noah.”
Ezra squats down, getting eye to eye with my baby. Noah stops trying to get his toy in his mouth and stares back at Ezra.
“Hey, little man. How are you?”
Noah looks at Ezra and then up at me as if he’s wondering if it’s okay to speak to a stranger. I smile and nod. My son looks back at Ezra and babbles something incoherently with a frown before going back to his toy. I shake my head. Clearly, Noah is his father’s child.
Ezra stands to his feet. “You have a cute kid.”
“Thanks.”
“Well, I’ll let you ladies finish your shopping. Tiffany, it was really nice seeing you again.” He winks at me before walking away with a casual stroll.
Mira and I both watch him until he is lost in the crowd.
“That man definitely wants to fuck you.”
“Mira.” I turn to her, my eyes wide and my mouth gaping open.
“What?” she shrugs. “Don’t act like you can’t tell.”
I chuckle, shaking my head. “He is just being friendly.”
“Girl, you can cut his sexual tension with a damn spoon. That man has images of bending you over your desk.”
I turn to look for Jake. He’s standing not too far from us.
I have to give it to him, he’s good about not crowding my space.
And I’m glad because I did not want him taking this info back to my husband.
Nico had already threatened poor Ezra once.
I was not the type that would purposely risk anyone’s life.
Placing my attention back on Mira, I shake my head.
“He is a little flirtatious, I’ll admit. But it’s innocent, and he understands I’m a married woman.”
She lifts her brow and cocks her head to the side. “Does he?”
“Yes. And even if he doesn’t, I do.”
Ezra is an attractive man, I won’t lie. He’s charming and has a great personality.
Had I been a single woman, I would’ve been all for his attention.
But despite the shit going on in my marriage, I wasn’t interested in anyone else.
I was angry at Nico, don’t get it wrong.
But he had no fear of me stepping out of my marriage.
After having lunch at the food court, I tossed our trays in the trash and headed to the bathroom while Mira watched Noah.
I spot Jake standing against a wall near the pizza restaurant. He nods at me as I head toward the bathroom. We have an unspoken rule that if I’m ever away from Noah, he is to stay with my baby.
I still had no idea why the hell I even needed a bodyguard. No one knew who I was or who I was married to. Hell, I don’t think many people even knew what Nico looked like.
I step into the bathroom at the end of the long hall.
The moment I walk in, a lady with short brown hair walks out.
She smiles at me as we pass. I make my way over to one of the empty stalls to do my business.
I’m halfway through my business when the door to the bathroom opens and someone walks in.
It’s a public restroom, so I think nothing of it.
However, the lights cut off, startling me.
“Ummm, hello? Someone is in here,” I call out.
Silence follows. I quickly wipe myself and readjust my clothes before flushing the toilet.
I was getting a bad vibe with the lights off and the silence. I go to unlock my stall, and I can’t push the door open. It’s as if someone is pushing against the door, preventing me from coming out.
“What the hell?” I press harder to get out. “Open the door.”
No matter how hard I push, I can’t get out of the bathroom.
I stop pushing. Looking down at the filthy public bathroom floor, I grit my teeth as I get on my hands and knees to look under the door.
Black combat boots meet me on the other side.
Before I could move, a gloved hand drops down and sprays something in my face.
Immediately I choke, and my eyes burn. The air smells and tastes spicy.
I cough so badly that I vomit on the floor.
The assailant sprays again, and this time, I get lightheaded from coughing so much. Suddenly, the bathroom door opens again.
The heavy stomping of footsteps pounds across the linoleum.
“Hey, watch it.” A female shouts.
On my hands and knees, I push the bathroom stall open, fighting to get out of the confined space, hoping to get some fresh air.
I can’t see anything, and the way I’m coughing and gagging, I can’t even call for help.
After a few attempts at crawling, I collapsed on the floor, still fighting to breathe.
The lights cut on, and a female screams before her footfalls are heard running out the bathroom.
My head is muddled, my throat burns, my nose runs, and my eyes are on fire as I continue to cough. Eventually, the room starts to spin so badly, I shut my eyes and pray whoever attacked me doesn’t come back. I’m too weak to move.