Chapter Three
Taylor
The next morning, I wake up and memories of last night immediately flood my mind.
Jack. I curl against my pillow, imagining his cedarwood scent, and I can’t help but smile.
In a world of shitty people, he’s one of the good ones.
A great guy, relaxed, fun, and yes, sexy.
In fact, it was the best sex I’ve ever had.
I hold the memory of him close for a few minutes longer before facing the world.
I pick up my phone from the nightstand. It’s nine a.m. I overslept and there are way too many missed voice messages from Chandler.
I take the phone with me to the bathroom and hit play while I brush my teeth.
“Taylor, we’re having lunch today at Hank’s. Meet me at my office at eleven thirty so we can walk in together at noon.”
I roll my eyes. It would never cross his mind to think I had a business meeting or other plans. Luckily, I make my own hours, and I’m always on top of things.
I press the next message.
“Taylor, I need to know you got my message. Call me back.” I hear the irritation in his voice.
And the next.
“Where the hell are you? When I call, I expect to hear back.” My stomach twists at the annoyance in his tone.
And lastly …
“I don’t appreciate your games and I can assure you, if I don’t hear from you, there will be consequences.”
I ignore his threat, knowing there’s nothing he can do without me coming back at him with what I know.
I rinse my mouth and pick up the phone, pressing Chandler’s number in my list of recent calls.
Luckily, he doesn’t answer and it goes directly to voicemail.
“I didn’t get your messages until now,” I say in a forced, calm voice.
“I’ll see you at your office at eleven thirty.
” I disconnect the call and my stomach churns as I run the shower and step beneath the spray.
An hour later, I’m dressed in what Chandler views as appropriate attire for the woman on his arm: a light blue sleeveless dress ending just below the knee and Louboutin heels.
When I looked in the mirror when I got home, I realized I’d lost one of the diamond earrings I’d been wearing last night.
A gift from Chandler, so for today, I choose a pearl necklace and matching earrings instead.
One glance in the mirror to check my makeup, and I’m ready to go.
I call a rideshare because I know Chandler will want his driver to take us to the restaurant and a little while later, I walk into his office. The outer area is empty, his assistant, April, nowhere to be found, for which I’m grateful.
When I started dating Chandler, I found him handsome and charming, and he swept me off my feet.
I thought we were a good fit until … everything.
After which I caught him cheating. I surprised him at the office with lunch from his favorite restaurant, only to walk in on him and April in a compromising position there was no way he could talk himself out of.
As soon as he had me under his thumb, I learned he isn’t the kind man he showed me when we first met.
He’s domineering and controlling and mean if he doesn’t get his way.
I’m forced to be his significant other at events that are important to him, even lunches where he’ll just be seen dining out, but we don’t sleep together.
I refuse and he doesn’t want that from me anyway.
Having learned my lesson about walking in on him, I sit down in a chair and wait. Sure enough, ten minutes later, April steps out of his office, her lipstick smeared, her long brown hair tangled around her face.
“Oh, hello, Taylor,” she says in a smug voice. “Chandler is expecting you,” she says as she opens a drawer behind her desk, removes her purse, and walks out, presumably to go to the ladies’ room to freshen up.
I roll my eyes and wait for him to join me, which he does five minutes later, looking completely put together, as if nothing had gone on with his assistant behind that door.
I rise and force a smile. “I’m here. You’re late.” Just because I’m doing his bidding doesn’t mean I have to be pleasant when we’re alone.
He runs one hand through his sandy blond hair. “We’re on my schedule, remember?” he says coldly. He adjusts his jacket sleeve, then looks me over, narrowing his gaze. “Why aren’t you wearing the diamond earrings I bought you?”
I clench my jaw before replying. I didn’t think he would keep track of what he buys me or when I wear things, but I should have known better. He wants the world to see that he spoils me with gifts, all to make him look good.
“I thought pearls looked better with this suit,” I say, bringing my hand to the necklace my parents gave me when I graduated college.
He frowns. “Make sure you wear the diamond earrings and necklace to the charity gala this weekend.”
My stomach dips as I realize I’m going to have to find or replace that piece of jewelry. I don’t reply and he gestures for me to precede him. We exit his office, walk into the building lobby, and out into the hot, humid air.