Annihilate Me (10 page)

*
 
*
 
*
 

When
we arrived at 800 Fifth, the driver pulled to the curb, and a valet came
immediately to Blackwell’s door to open it.
 
The three of us got out and moved onto
the busy sidewalk.
 
Before we could
enter the building, Blackwell turned each of us around so we were looking
across the street.
 

“There’s
your Park.”

She
turned us around again so we were facing the building.
 
“Your apartment is the penthouse.
 
The one on the left.
 
Can you see it from here?
 
Probably not—too bright.
 
But it’s the thirty-fourth floor.
 
Gorgeous.”

“Penthouse?”
Lisa said.

“Yes,
that’s right.
 
Penthouse.”

“I
guess we really are movin’ on up.”

I
smiled at her and broke into song.
 
“To a
de
-luxe apartment in the ski-hi-hi.”

“I
don’t know what that means,” Blackwell said.

“Nothing,”
Lisa said.
 

“Sorry,”
I offered.
 
“Just a bit of
nostalgia.”

“A
bit of what?”

“Not
important.”

“Whatever.
 
Let’s go and have a look, shall we?
 
It’s only been on the market for two
days.
 
You are
so
in luck.
 
If you
like it, we get it now.
 
As in right
now.
 
No dawdling.
 
This apartment will go very
quickly.
 
By the end of tomorrow at
the latest.”

We
were ushered into a massive lobby that was nicely furnished and had lots of
natural light and a friendly looking man standing behind a desk to our
right.
 

“Ms.
Blackwell,” he said.

Blackwell
clicked over to him with purpose.
 
“James, James, James.
 
Sweet,
James.
 
So good to see you.
 
Hellohoware?
 
Are we the first?”

“I’m
afraid not.”

“Have
any offers come in?”

“I
wouldn’t know.
 
But by the looks of
one couple, whom I saw leaving with their Realtor a few hours ago, I’m certain
that one is coming.”

“They
had that look, didn’t they?”

“They
did.”

“A
happy little bounce in their step?”

“A
definite bounce.”

“And
that awful, ‘Can you fucking believe we finally found a place’ look?”

“That
was the look.”

“
Merde
.”

He
gave her a key.
 
“Perhaps if you
move swiftly?”

“Of
course.
 
Please call
management.
 
Stall everything until
we’ve seen it.
 
No offers are to be
accepted.
 
That’s coming from me and
Mr. Wenn.”
 

“Of
course, Ms. Blackwell.”

She
looked at us.
 
“Elevator.
 
We’re on a mission.
 
Now.”

*
 
*
 
*
 

When
we arrived on the thirty-fourth floor, we took a right out of one of the
elevators and went to the end of a long hallway where there was a door marked
34F.
 
Blackwell wasted no time.
 
She unlocked the door, swung it open,
and said, “Let’s do this.”

We
walked inside, and it was just glorious.
 
A half-bath to our left with a closet next to it.
 
Beautiful tiled floors.
 
To the left was the living room, which
had the most amazing views of the Park beyond a curtain of windows.
 
On the other side of the foyer was a
library or a dining room—however we wanted to use it.
 
Probably a dining room.
 
We followed Blackwell, who was pointing
at this and at that, but all Lisa and I could do was shoot each other looks of
disbelief.
 
The space was
massive.
 
Two large bedrooms that
had their own attached marble baths.
 
A gourmet kitchen with granite counter tops and high-end, gleaming
stainless steel appliances.
 
Windows
everywhere that flooded the space with light.

“I
want it,” I said.
 
“Lisa?”

“It’s
amazing.”

“Of
course, it is,” Blackwell said.
 
“At
least you two have the good taste to recognize good design in a flash.”

“How
much per month?”

“Ten
thousand.”

“Ten
thousand?” Lisa said, looking crestfallen.
 
“Oh.”

“We’ll
take it,” I said.
 
“As in right
now.
 
Please make sure that all
other offers are too late, and that this penthouse is ours.”

Ms.
Blackwell looked me coolly in the eye.
 
“You wouldn’t like to see anything else?”

“Why
would I when you’ve already shown us perfection?”

“Sometimes
I really like you, Maine.”

“Sometimes
it’s mutual, Ms. Blackwell,” I said.
 
And when I said it, each of us tried to suppress a smile.

*
 
*
 
*
 

In
the elevator, I texted Alex.
 
“We’ve
got our place.
 
It’s fantastic.
 
Penthouse at 800 Fifth.
 
More later.
 
Miss you.”

It
was only a moment before he chimed in.
 
“Very happy for you and Lisa.
 
Great location.
 
I wish I
could pick you up from work tonight.
 
Let’s talk later.
 
Miss you
very, very much.”

I
smiled down at my phone and looked up to see the two women looking squarely
back at me.
 
“What?” I said.

“All
of it’s just so wrong,” Blackwell said.

“What’s
so wrong?”

“That
happy look on your face.
 
I just
went through a wretched divorce, and there you are smiling down at a smart
phone with hooded eyes.
 
It makes me
want to vomit.”

“Shall
I share that with Alex?”

“You
can spoon feed it to him.
 
He knows
what I went through.
 
He knows how I
am.
 
And he loves me despite all of
it.”

“Actually,
I do, too.”

“Oh,
Maine, puh-lease.”

“You
think you’re tough, but you’re actually a push-over.”

“I
am human Draino.
 
I will eat through
you if I need to.”

“My
zombies also can do that,” Lisa said.

“Your
what?”

“The
undead peeps I write about?”

“Are
you developing a new language?
 
‘Undead peeps.’
 
Where am
I?
 
What is that?”

The
elevator started to slow.

“Anyway,
I’m a force, Maine.
 
You have no
idea what you’re dealing with.”
 
She
fingered a few strands of her black bob away from her face and looked up at the
elevator’s dial as we approached the lobby.
 
“Though I do appreciate our
excursions.
 
They’re...
 
What’s that word I never use?
 
Fun?
 
No, too strong.
 
Enjoyable?
 
Maybe.
 
I suppose I can live with that.”

“I’m
glad you can,” I said.
 
“How about
if we sign the paperwork and have lunch?
 
We need to get a burger in you.”

“Maybe
some mesclun,” she acquiesced.
 
“Drop of vinegar.
 
I could
probably do that.
 
I actually have
the perfect place in mind.
 
And it’s
my treat since you two weren’t entirely impossible today.”

As
we passed James in the lobby, she said to him, “It’s a goner.
 
Meet your new tenants, Jennifer Kent and
Lisa Ward.
 
They’ll be moving in
immediately.
 
All the paperwork will
be signed by day’s end.
 
Toodles,
James.
 
My sweet, sweet James.
 
Toodles, toodles.
 
Love, love, love.
 
We’re off for some roughage.”

CHAPTER NINE

When
I left work that night, it was odd and felt kind of lonely not to find Alex
waiting outside for me.
 
I stepped
onto the sidewalk, saw his limousine idling at the curbside, and watched his
driver pop out to open the rear door for me.
 
Alex said he’d send a driver to make
sure I got home safe, and, true to his promise, here was my ride home.

Or
did I even want to go home?
 

A
thought crossed my mind.
 
I
considered it as I stepped into the back of the limousine, and by the time the
driver got back inside, I asked him to take me to Wenn.

“To
Wenn?” the man asked.

“Please,”
I said.
 
“I know Alex won’t be
there, but that’s fine.”

“Of
course.”

It
was fine because Alex had given me a key to his apartment, which I had in my
purse and which the driver likely knew about.
 
And so we drove to Wenn.
 
When we arrived, the driver opened my
door and I asked him that when he did pick up Alex to please not mention that I
was here.

“I
want to surprise him,” I said.

“Your
secret’s safe with me, Ms. Kent.”

I
thanked him, and stepped into the building.
 
As I entered, the security guards at the
front desk greeted me by name.
 
I
went over and asked them not to tell Alex that I was here when he arrived.
 
They said they wouldn’t.

“I
appreciate that,” I said.

“No
problem, Ms. Kent.”

“It’s
Jennifer,” I said.
 
“Please call me
Jennifer.”

“Of
course, Ms. Kent.”

I
smiled at them, and walked behind their desk to Alex’s private elevator.
 
I slid my key into the slot, the doors
opened, and I stepped in.
 
The
elevator lifted, and I sent a quick text to Lisa letting her know where I
was.
 
When I reached Alex’s
apartment, I pushed the button for the lobby before stepping out as the doors
shut.
 
I listened to the elevator
plummet.
 
Alex would expect the car
to be waiting for him in the lobby when he slipped his key into the slot.
 
Otherwise, he’d know that someone had
used it, and he’d suspect that something was up.
 
I wasn’t having any of that.

I
turned on lights, walked into his apartment, and texted him in the
hallway.
 
“I’m home,” I wrote.
 
“Any idea when you’ll be home so we can
talk?
 
I’d like to hear your voice
before I go to sleep.”

When
he chimed in, he wrote, “I should be just another hour.
 
Don’t go to sleep, OK?
 
I also want to talk before we each turn
in.”

So,
I had an hour.
 
More than enough
time.

I
went into his kitchen, switched on the lights, and looked around for two
martini glasses.
 
I found them in
one of the cupboards.
 
I put them in
the freezer, removed a chilled bottle of Grey Goose from the side of the
freezer door, and searched for a glass pitcher of some sort.
 
There was an elegant one with a silver
handle in another cupboard.
 
In it
was a slender silver stirring stick.
 
Vermouth was in the refrigerator, as were the olives I’d need
later.
 
Somewhere in here, I’d find
the little silver spears he’d used for the olives in the martini he served me
the other night.

When
I finished making the pitcher of martinis, I put it in the freezer, looked
around, and found some cocktail napkins and nuts in the pantry, and a silver
bowl in another cupboard.
 
I shook a
heaping mound of nuts into the bowl, hurried it and the napkins into the living
room, and placed both onto the table in front of the sofa.
 

That’s that.

I
sat on the sofa and looked at the beautiful New York skyline while thinking
thoughts I shouldn’t be thinking as I waited for him.
 
To my surprise, after I’d been there for
only forty minutes, he texted me.
 
“I’m in the car now and on my way home.
 
I hope you haven’t gone to sleep.
 
I really need to hear your voice,
Jennifer.”

I
smiled at that, and wrote, “I’m up and waiting for you.
 
How long?”

“Five
minutes.”

“I’ll
talk to you in ten.”

Immediately,
I was off the sofa.
 
I poured two
martinis into the chilled glasses, found the silver spears for the olives in
the utensil drawer, and brought the drinks to the coffee table.
 

I
sat down on the sofa, and felt a start.
 
The lights were on.
 
They were
off when I got here.
 
With a rush, I
turned them off, felt my way back to the sofa, stretched out my legs along with
my three-inch red pumps, and listened as the hum of the elevator lurched into
motion.

My
heart quickened as he neared me.
 
I
was wearing a short, off-white, silk skirt, and a silk blouse opened at the
neck that was the same color as my shoes.
 
No jewelry.
 
My hair was
down, just as he liked it.
 
A hint
of my cleavage showed.
 
I tried like
hell to adjust myself into a position so I would look like a feast to him, but
I had no idea what I was doing, so I just made the effort to look like
something out of one of Lisa’s fashion magazine ads.
 
I was all angles, a pair of long legs, a
bust of boobs, and a mane of hair.
 
I felt ridiculous.

I am so over my head when it comes to
these sorts of things.
 
What am I
doing?
 
I look like a total
amateur.
 
This isn’t coquettish.
 
This is a travesty.

But
at least I’d tried.

I
took a quick sip of my martini to calm my nerves, but a sip hardly was enough
to do the job.
 
Still, the drink was
icy cold and it tasted good, which is what mattered most to me.
 
Just a hint of vermouth, and the brine
of the olives.
 
I wanted him to have
a proper drink when he got home.
 
Something to soothe his nerves.

When
the elevator doors slid open and I heard his initial footfalls into the
penthouse, I held my breath and sat completely still as lights in the foyer
flashed on.
 
I heard him sigh.
 
I didn’t know where he’d gone
tonight—he didn’t mention it to me and I forgot to ask.
 
But he had said this event would be
longer than the others, and it was.
 
I could only imagine its importance.
 
I wondered if he was able to keep the
wolves at bay and get some business done.
 
Soon, once I came on as a consultant, that wouldn’t be an issue for him
any longer.

I
could hear him move toward the living room.
 
I bit my bottom lip and waited for him
to step inside.
 
When he did, he
flipped on the lights.
 
And then he
froze when he saw me.

For
a moment, we just looked at each other.
 
There was shock on his face, but it was instantly replaced by a grin.

“What
are you doing here?”

“I
wanted to see you.
 
I hope it’s OK.”

“Of
course it’s OK.
 
I gave you a key
for this very reason.
 
I thought I
wasn’t going to see you tonight.
 
I
can’t tell you how happy this makes me.”

“I
wanted to surprise you, Mr. Wenn.”

“Well,
you did, Ms. Kent.
 
In the best
way.”

He
wasted no time coming over to me.
 
I
stood and fell into his embrace, which was warmer than usual.
 
The way he held me was
different—it almost felt as if he was relieved.
 
He kept his head on my shoulder for a
moment longer than usual, and he breathed in my scent.
 
I felt his body relax against mine.
 
After a moment, I pulled back and kissed
him.

“I
can’t imagine a better surprise,” he said.

“I
can’t imagine a better way to end the day.”

His
eyes were inflamed by the fact that I was here with him.
 
“You look sexy as hell,” he said in a
low voice.

“Is
that how you talk to all of your new employees?”

“Just
one.”

“And
by the way, I should return the compliment.
 
But then, you know that whenever I see
you in a tux, I just sort of turn into a puddle on the floor....”

“One
day, we’ll have to psychoanalyze that.”

“You’ve
said that before, but why bother?
 
Just keep wearing them, and I’ll be a happy woman.
 
I obviously have some sort of suit
fetish when it comes to you.
 
Doesn’t matter which one you wear.
 
Unless, of course, down the road, it’s you in your birthday suit.
 
Who knows?
 
That might be my favorite of all.”

“Jennifer—”

Even
I blushed at my comment.
 
Slow
down, girl.
 
I
deflected.
 
“I made you a martini.”

He
looked down at the coffee table, and saw the two drinks, the napkins and the
nuts.

“You
came here and did all of this for me?”

“It
wasn’t exactly difficult.
 
And it
isn’t that much.
 
I found what I
could in the kitchen.
 
I hope you
don’t mind.”

There
was a tenderness in his voice when he said, “That kitchen is yours as well as
mine.
 
It’s the thought behind what
you did that matters.
 
I know you’ve
been on your feet all night, and still you came here to do this.
 
I’m grateful.”

I
touched his face and kissed him again.
 
Only this time, there was no holding him back.
 
He was strong—stronger than he
looked, which was saying something, because he was nothing if not built.
 
He swept me into his arms, pulled me in
as if we were one, and kissed my lips, my neck, and the concave of my throat
with a fierceness that I responded to.
 
I felt my nipples stiffened with arousal when he leaned into me.
 
Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who
was aroused.
 
The thought of him
pressed against my thigh like that sent me over the edge with desire.
 
I wanted him so much, but it needed to
wait.
 
He was right.
 
This had to build until we could no
longer stand it.

But
that didn’t mean we couldn’t have fun along the way.

Tonight,
even if it was only for an hour or so, we were going to cuddle on the sofa in
each other’s arms, have our martinis, enjoy each other, talk about our days,
and then I’d be on my way.
 
I knew
he needed to get up early.
 
I didn’t
want him exhausted when he woke.

But
I wasn’t going to let him off that easily.

I
sat on the sofa and extended a leg.
 
“Would you mind removing my shoe, Mr. Wenn?”

His
eyes flicked up to meet mine, and then he crouched down and unbuckled it with
ease.
 
He massaged my foot before I
extended my other one.
 
“And this?”

“My
pleasure, Ms. Kent.”

He
released my foot from it.
 
Then,
unexpectedly, he started to kiss each of my toes, then he popped my little toe
into his mouth and swung his tongue around it as he gently sucked it.
 
The sensation was undeniably
erotic.
 
I pressed back against the
sofa and let him do whatever he wanted to do to me.
 
As he worshiped my feet with his mouth,
his right hand roamed up my right thigh until it disappeared beneath the fabric
of my skirt.
 
His hand went deeper,
he tugged at my panties, and his finger slipped just beneath them.
 
Then, looking at me, I knew he’d felt my
wetness.
 
He pulled back and
smoothed his hand back down the length of my leg to my foot.

I
was almost breathless when I said, “Take off your shirt.”