Deceived - Part 2 Paris (2 page)

“It was a note from Patrick, that is,
I thought it was from Patrick…to meet him in the library. You know, I thought he wanted to...well...have a repeat of the art work on your glass top desk,” I explained nervously. My pulse quickens from the mere discussion of the situation.

“Go on,” he tipped his head with an understanding nod.  

“When I opened the door to the library I caught Patrick with his tongue halfway down
the Baroness’ throat. His hands were all over her, he was all up on - the slut!” I said vehemently, my voice rising in pitch as I spoke. From the look on his face, Ryan could tell a storm was brewing inside of me.

“Hey,
hey, take it easy girl,” he interjected but my momentum was just getting started and I cut him off.

“I can’t believe that cock sucker invited me for a romantic weekend and then had the nerve to do THAT with his supposed ex-girlfriend right in front of my face at the charity event? I guess I’m just no match for the Baroness.”

I struggled to remain stoic. I didn’t want to admit that yet another man had stomped on my heart. I fought nobly but the river of emotions inside of me had a strong current and it threatened to pull me into its undertow. Ryan must have seen the frantic look in my eyes, as he sat there driving
his car
in the late night hours. He probably wondered what kind of
freakin
’ crazy lady he had in his car
. I was at my wits end and he was the epitome of relaxation, like an angel throwing out a safety rope for me to latch onto.  

“Chloe, listen girl, there’s no way Patrick is into the Baroness. Let me tell you a few things about her. She’s the most egocentric, selfish and conniving bitch I’ve ever met in my life. I’m sure you agree. Besides, when I met you and Patrick at the gallery, I realized from the moment that I saw the two of you together, that he was completely into you. I’ve known him for almost twenty years now and I have never seen him behave like that with other girls. He was acting like a schoolboy with his first
love. Don’t beat yourself up so much, Chloe. Just give it a couple of days and see how you feel. He really likes you and this was just one big cluster fuck of a misunderstanding.”

I sat there feeling devastated, but the tidal wave of hurt washing over my heart soon subsided, as his soothing words helped me put things back in perspective. I sighed into the passenger seat and turned to look for a moment at the twinkling lights out in the distance from the highway.

“I know that you are saying this to make me feel better and I appreciate it but seriously, what he did tonight was cruel and humiliating. I don’t care how much money he can make on this Baroness account, it’s not going to be at the expense of my heart,” I said with bridled anger in my voice. I paused for a moment looking down, picking at some invisible lint on my jeans.

“Ryan, he broke my heart to
night,” I said in a soft low voice.

The grating noise of the music on my alarm clock forced the soul back into my body as I groggily came to the “awake” stage. Confused and disoriented, I grabbed the bed sheets next to me, thinking for a brief moment that I would find Patrick sleeping there. As the focus of reality sharpened in my brain I remembered...
Shit! It’s Monday morning.

All day Sunday, after Ryan had brought me home, I was tormented with the idea of how I would have to face Patrick at work. I’d spent the day on a crying jag as a result of Patrick wrenching my heart out, wanting to throw my iPhone, filled with his messages which I had ignored, in the toilet. Sunday night’s dreams were turbulent and full of distorted dark shadowy images, symbols no doubt of my heartache for the handsome and enigmatic Patrick Collins.  

I rolled over with a sigh, flopping my arm across the vacant space, digging deep inside of my psyche for the courage to get out of bed and go into work. I had contemplated calling in sick procrastinating to the last moment possible. Growling through clenched teeth, I flung the covers off me determined not to let a man undermine my self-confidence. Too many times in the past I had beat myself up over a heartbreak, just like Ryan said, and came out feeling like a loser. Maybe this time would be different. Dragging myself out of bed, I habitually went through the morning routine like a plane on autopilot and prepared myself for work.

I purposefully got off the elevator one floor below and took the last floor by stairs so I could avoid the front reception area. I wasn’t in the mood to be on anyone's radar this morning and certainly not those cackling office gossips. With Starbucks in hand, I stealthily made my way to my desk opening up my computer to check the calendar for the day.

“Chloe!” I jumped a mile unaware that anyone had entered my cubicle space.

“Oh, hey Elyse,” I breathed out. “You startled me.” I thought you were someone else like...well....Patrick,”
I stammered.

“Patrick? He’s not even in today. Check the schedule.”

My eyes darted across the computer screen and my anxiety was quickly alleviated when I saw that Patrick would be out of the office for most of the week.

“That’s a relief. I really wasn’t up for dealing with him anyway,” I said.  

“He’s gone most of the week to Florida, I think,” Elyse mused.

“Florida? Why the hell Florida?” I said bitterly.
He never said anything about Florida last week before we went to the Hamptons for the weekend.
        

“I have no idea but it’s gotta be something important for him to be gone that long,” Elyse said jutting out her chin.

Maybe the asshole was actually feeling guilty and decided to stay away for a while
, taking a couple days R&R in South Beach. Go figure it!

Although I hadn’t completely forgiven Patr
ick, deep in my heart I was beginning to waver. Elyse had returned to her desk to work and I took the opportunity to steal away into Patrick’s office. I found some insignificant excuse to put files on his desk, in an effort to get in his space and absorb his energy, even if it was residual vibrational energy. Alone in the office I passed behind his desk near the chair. Closing my eyes, I inhaled the faint scent of his cologne, remembering how intoxicating he was when he held my body next to his.  

My heart softened towards him and I sighed a puppy dog whimper. Maybe I
had
been too hasty in my reaction to this whole thing. Maybe Ryan was right. I certainly knew by now that the Baroness was a complete psychopath. There was no doubt that she had orchestrated this whole scheme. After all, she was the one behind the note, the one who manipulated me to go to the library under false
pretenses
. And according to history, this wasn’t the first time she had caught Patrick in her web.  

On the other hand, he should have told me about the affair with the Baroness. I was really put in a bad position in front of her. It’s like baiting a
hungry dog with a steak and then wondering why the dog jumped for it. If Patrick had been up front in the beginning and explained, the Baroness’ outrageous behavior would have made more sense. I felt humiliated being blindsided like that.

If I were being truly honest to myself, I wanted things to be the way they were before. I wanted to forgive him. I ached to forgive him, but he had deceived me. Besides, I thought agreeably to myself, actions speak louder than words and that night in the library, I didn’t see him even attempt to push her away when they kissed.

Rehashing all the drama was wearing me down and getting on my last nerve. I decided to bury myself in the mile high pile of work on my desk for the remainder of the day and go home for another fitful night’s sleep.

***

Back in the sanctity of my home, scrubbed and showered and with my hair up in a towel, I plopped down on my bed in pajama pants to read a little in an effort to get my mind off my heartache
. Plugging in my phone to recharge and placing it on the nightstand, I dropped down on the bed when suddenly the ping of an alert drew my attention. My stomach rolled with anxiety as I recognized the sender name of the incoming text message. It was Patrick.

I had been doing my best to resist answering but deep below the surface, a certain fear of rejection, dull and oppressive, came to me. Desperation filled me to the brim and I was consumed with the desire to go after him, call him, text him, do whatever it would take to get him back. The thought asserted itself, and persisted until it produced a vision of losing Patrick forever, if I didn’t take action soon. Just thinking of that scenario shattered me. I broke down and opened the text.

It read, “Chloe, you have no idea what you are doing to me. I’m a mess without you. We really need to talk. Call me....please...”

Gingerly I placed the phone back on the nightstand and warm tears of relief found their way down my cheeks. Clicking the light off, I whispered out loud to the late night silence in the room, “Good night Patrick. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

***

Things were slow at work the next morning with Patrick gone to Florida and I found myself slumped over my desk, nervously tapping my pencil, strategizing my plan for the best time to call him. My pulse raced.
No time like the present!

My palms were so sweaty I could barely get my fingers to slide across the glass of my cell phone. As I stole away into his office, an electrifying shudder reverberated through my body at the thought of Patrick’s velvet smooth voice. I leaned back in his chair, leisurely stretching my long legs and propped my feet up on his desk with a cocky attitude. I scrolled through my “Contacts list” and hit the call button, beside myself with delight.

It seemed like an eternity before the call went through. Anxiously, I anticipated hearing the familiar
timbre
of his voice through the phone.

“Well, hello Chloe.”

My heart froze and I bolted upright in the chair.
What the fuck!!

“Anna? I...I...was calling for Patrick,” I stammered in a stifled unnatural voice.

“Yea, he’s in the shower... soaping up his incredibly chiseled physique. Do you want to leave a message?”

“I’m...I’m sorry, I don’t understand. I thought I called Patrick.” I wavered trying to comprehend what I was hearing.

“Ah, let’s see, you blew off the hottest piece of ass in the Hamptons to run off with your gay friend in a hissy fit. Patrick was feeling lonely and upset so I chatted him up at the party and he agreed to come with me to Miami for some fun. Then one thing led to another and we ended up here in bed together.” Her voice was cold and exact.

I fought to control my swirling emotions. Anger rushed over me like a freight train on steroids. My heart pumped enough blood to the surface of my body until I was on fire and suddenly I knew the meaning of being so angry that I saw red.

“Uh, no message,” I replied, the anger in my voice masked by calmness as I punched the “End” button.  

What the muther-fucking hell was that? He went to Miami for work - my ass!

 
I could not believe what I had just heard. What a
bitch!
Looks like everything changes and yet, everything stays the same. I was here pining away for him in New York while he was down in Florida fucking that bitch!