Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
Nina
The Montwell building sits proudly amongst the skyscrapers in London’s financial district; its impressive structure flouting high up in the clouds. I watch in awe as people breeze through the revolving doors, going about their business almost robotically.
Why so serious?
“Here, you’ll need this,” Vinny interrupts my trance, handing me a plastic card. “Tell reception I sent you, you won’t be on any list. I can’t promise they won’t call up.”
I squeeze his shoulder, giving him a warm smile. “Thanks, Vinny. You don’t want to come up with me, some moral support?”
He shakes his head. “I did my bit. You’re on your own now, love.”
I roll my eyes. “Stay close by, I might need a lift in five.”
He turns in his seat, a smirk pulling at his lips. “You said you wouldn’t cause a scene.”
“You said you were taking us to The Pearl,” I throw back at him with a shrug.
“Touché.”
My confidence takes a nosedive the moment I step into The Montwell.
I look down at myself, pulling at my crop top to hide the slither of exposed skin at my ribs.
Determined to follow through with my vaguely thought-out plan, I pull back my shoulders and carry on forward, my heels clicking on the sparkling floor seemingly much louder than the other women’s in the foyer.
Eight large pillars line the long walkway, leading to a bank of elevators, where security guards stand on each door with scanners in their hands. I take a deep breath and make my way to the large desk that sits in the centre of the room.
“Hello, can I help you?” a kind-looking woman asks.
“Yes, hi. I’m here to see Mas—Mr Lowell,” I correct. “I have this.” I hand over the lanyard. “Vinny sent me.”
She smiles, taking the card. “Of course. Can you just sign in here, and I will call up?”
“No,” I panic, and her hand freezes on the phone. “Uh, I was hoping to surprise him. I’m his girlfriend.”
“I can’t allow anyone up without calling through first.”
“But I wanted to surprise him.” I pout my lips, not enough to look bratty but enough to make her feel bad.
She chews on the side of her cheek, unsure. “Where is Vinny now?”
“In the car.” I turn and look back through the foyer, trying to see if he is outside.
“I saw him pull up before,” she tells me. “If you didn’t have Vinny’s card I wouldn’t let you up.” She nods to the elevators, smiling. “Go.”
“Thank you so much!”
“If you get me fired.” She laughs, shaking her head
“Then we’ll blame Vinny.” I wink, rounding the desk and walking over to the elevators.
I stop to show my card to the guard, and he gives me a nod. I step inside and wait for the doors to close, and as the doors begin to slide shut, my brain decides to backtrack. My palms feel damp, and my legs don’t feel like my own. What am I doing?
The lift continues to rise for what feels like forever.
It has me panicking that it could be broken, but once we hit the seventy-eighth floor, it slows, and the doors slide open.
I pull back my shoulders and draw in a deep breath as I step out, knowing that if I stop to think about how I look or if I should even be here, then I will end up leaving.
The reception area is clinical with stark white minimalistic furniture. It’s how I imagined it to be, but it also isn’t. Maybe I am naive and sheltered, but this isn’t the norm. Mason has a lot of money.
I move my eyes from the small seating area, and oh, what would you know, females. Two women sit behind a tall multi-levelled desk. I can only make out their heads from here, but they seem to be engrossed in something in front of them, laughing loudly with one another.
I use the opportunity to quickly scan the area, sussing out where Mason’s office would be. I’m presuming it’s behind the glass wall at my left, and going with my gut, I stalk towards the door.
“Excuse me!” they shout.
I turn towards the reception desk, the two women now glaring at me. They’re both beautiful and immaculately dressed—it does not surprise me one bit.
“You’re not going in there.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I don’t need an appointment, I’ll just be a minute.” I smile, trying to keep them on the side. I can see them both judging me with their catty stares.
“Mr Lowell is busy, and he doesn’t have any time in his schedule today. You will have to leave, or I’ll call security.” She raises a perfectly sculpted brow, looking down her nose at me.
I walk over and show her the card Vinny gave me, and as if they planned it, they turn to each other and laugh in unison.
“Hey, nice bracelet. I did okay with that one, huh? The other things not quite to your fancy, princess? I don’t get paid to run around London after you but don’t sweat it; Mason makes it well worth my while.” She lifts the phone to her ear. “Security.”
Hurt rips through me as the realisation of her words sink in.
This woman bought this?
Was she with him on Saturday?
Bile rises in my throat, but I force it down on a deep swallow, not allowing her to see my reaction. It’s what she wants.
“That won’t be necessary, Amber.” Elliot’s voice rings out behind me, barely registering past the whirling in my ears.
He puts his arm around my shoulder and pulls me into his side.
“It’s Alice,” she corrects.
“It’s irrelevant,” he states, sounding every bit the boss he dresses to be. “Add Miss Anderson to the list. She can come up here anytime she likes.”
They look at me dumbfounded, both of their eyes pinching in the corners as Alice starts tapping on her keyboard.
“You going in, Pixie?” Elliot says, directing me away from the desk. “Lowell didn’t mention you were coming.”
“He doesn’t know. He came to my studio and started a fight with one of my staff. I thought I’d come and prove a point.” I nod towards the reception desk.
“Ah, calling him out on his bullshit again. You know I think he likes it. Those gifts you had sent back.” He laughs, but it just makes me even madder now that I know he didn’t buy them himself.
With the fire raging in my gut, I step out from under Elliot’s arm.
“I’m right behind ya,” he tells me, trailing behind.
The glass double doors vibrate off of the rubber stoppers, drawing every eye in the room to me. “Gentlemen,” I greet them all as I fling the bracelet from my fingers. It bounces across the carpeted floor and knocks into Mason’s perfectly polished shoe.
“Nina, what are you doing here? Montgomery?” He looks to Elliot then back to me.
“What, I can’t just drop in and see my boyfriend?” I say with as much contempt as I can muster.
I look to the other men in the room as I try to remain in control. They all sit with curious expressions on their faces—Lance and Charlie both among them.
What on earth am I doing?
This was a bad idea.
“We will give you a minute,” Charlie says, standing and leaving the room with the five other suits and Elliot.
“You’ve slept with your receptionist?” I ask once the room is cleared.
“No,” he answers far too quickly.
“Oh, it wasn’t a question,” I snap, walking closer to him. “I’ve never slept with Henry, or Logan, or anyone on the ‘regular’ for that matter. Yet you turn up to my studio and act like a jealous behemoth over someone I see like a brother—”
“Nina—”
“You took someone you fuck to buy gifts for the woman you’re fucking?” I can see the tic in his jaw as he clenches his teeth, but he doesn’t answer me. “That was a fucking question, Mason!”
He bends, picking up the bangle from the floor. I don’t like to think how much it cost. “I picked this out for you, Nina, not her.”
“Oh, well good job, what do you want? A gold star? Or maybe your cock sucked? I can ask your receptionist if she is free.” I thumb towards the door.
“Stop!” he barks, cutting me off.
I know I’ve pushed him, and the stance he takes as he steps up in front of me has my shoulders dropping a fraction.
Why do I feel so stupid?
“I haven’t slept with anyone since the night I met you.” He puts his hands on his hips, not seeming to know what to do with them.
I roll my eyes, but the relief his words bring me puts out a portion of the fire in my gut. The office doors open, but neither of us turn to look at who has entered.
This entire plan of mine has backfired.
“Security is on the way. I’m so sorry.”
Mason’s eyes bore into mine, and the dangerous glint in them has my throat tightening. “You’re fired, effective immediately.”
“What?!” she shouts. “You can’t fire me!”
“Mason,” I warn.
“Leave. Take your stuff and go,” he tells her, his eyes still trained on me.
I look at the girl, who now has tears brimming in her eyes. “Just give us a minute, okay?”
She gives me a death stare, squeaks out a sound that a three-year-old might make over a hairy lollipop, then runs from the room.
“You can’t just fire people for no reason. She didn’t do anything wrong.”
“You said we were starting fresh, and you’re right, she had to go,” he says, dropping his eyes down my body.
“It’s her job, her living, Mason. You can’t take that away from her because you can’t keep your dick in your pants.”
“I just did,” he says matter of fact. “Turn around.”
“No.”
He grabs my waist and spins me. I hear the zip of my skirt, and then it pools to the floor. “If you think you can tame me with your mouth right now, you’re going to be in for a shock. You’re having a mare today, Bossman.”
When he turns me back around, he is on his knees, his sole focus on my leg. “It’s still red.” He leans in, softly running his lips across the pink flesh. “I shouldn’t have left before,” he mutters, and I can see he is at war with himself, his features tightening as his eyes roam.
“It doesn’t even hurt now. Henry got the first aid kit pretty fast.” Not being able to deny him the contact, I reach out, running my hand through his hair.
It’s been over a week. I’ve missed him.
“It doesn’t hurt?” He looks up at me.
I shake my head, smiling at his blatant worry. I didn’t expect coming here to end like this. If he’d shown this concern at the gym and not caused a scene, none of this would have happened.