Becoming a Jett Girl (The Bourbon Series) (40 page)

When I was able to pry my eyes off his body, I looked in his eyes and noticed how tired they looked and how his usually-polished hair was pushed up and to the side, as if he was running his hands through it over the last two hours.
 

“What are you doing here?” he asked, not angry but more deflated.
 

“I, uh, I needed to talk to you.”

He looked me up and down then ran his hand through his hair once again, while walking back into the room he was about to leave.
 

“Come,” he ordered, in that tone that made me drop to my knees and fuck anything that came near my mouth.
 

I followed him and was pleasantly surprised by what I now knew was his office. It was refined with deep grey walls, crisp black shelves that flanked the walls and a charcoal colored desk in the middle of the room, sending a message that Jett was not one to be fucked with. There were pops of color here and there, but for the most part, the room spoke masculine, rich and fucking sultry. Damn him, even his decorating sense turned me on.
 

Jett waved toward the leather-upholstered seat for me to sit in and I did as I was told. The ball of nerves that started to tie together on the trolley ride to the Garden District only intensified now that I was in Jett’s element and he was showing a great deal of skin, staring at me while his chin rested on his fingers, eyeing me like I was a piece of meat he was debating on tearing apart.
 

“You wanted to talk, so talk.” There was something about the way he spoke to me that set my brain on high alert. His voice wasn’t the normal molasses dripping sex on a damn barbeque skewer but, instead, his words were laced with hostility.
 

“Why did you want me to come here?”

Instead of answering, Jett just leaned on the armrest of his chair with his chin still captured in his hand, observing me, making me feel completely and thoroughly exposed. I knew I shouldn’t be intimidated, that I should stick up for myself and put my sassy mouth out there, but the intense glare driving from his eyes put me in my place, clammed me right up.
 

I felt myself unconsciously twist my hands in my lap as I waited for him to say something, anything. He shifted in his seat and then grabbed a glass of amber liquid from his desk that I didn’t notice was there.
 

Once he took a sip, he rested his arms on the armrest while still holding the glass and looked up at me with those deep blue eyes. “I thought we went over this earlier today. Was my answer not good enough for you?”

Shit, why did I feel like cowering under his deep glare? I was stronger than this.

Mustering all the bravado I had and trying to not turn into a pile of lube from his intense stare, I said, “I wanted some more clarification, because I have been privileged to some new information that contradicts your little afternoon story in the cemetery.”

Ha, take that you ornery fuck!

The man was a stagnant tycoon, showing no tells and waiting to pounce when he was ready. His jaw ticked as he decided how to respond and, I swear to God, he’d made a rule that he counted to thirty before answering because the silence in the room was draining me, an effect he knew he held over me.
 

“Please, enlighten me.”

Trying not to act like a teenager or an overdramatic boob, I took a note from Jett’s scare tactics and counted to ten before I answered.
 

I just needed to get this over with, I hated this little standoff we were having. “Did you invite me to be a Jett Girl to seek revenge on someone else? Did you lie to me?”

“And if I did?” he asked, while carefully sipping his drink.

Anger boiled up in me at his lack of compassion, avoidance of the topic and the way he didn’t show the true man I knew, the man that bought me M&M’s on the steamboat, the man that laughed with me on the roof and the man that sent me a bouquet of flowers almost every morning. He was distant and withdrawn and it startled me to see a man I once trusted change so dramatically.

Standing up and shoving my chair away from me, I paced his office. “What is wrong with you? Where is the man I once knew? You used to be kind and gentle, but domineering when you needed to be. I felt protected around you, cared for, and cherished. You’re not that man anymore. You’re so…so cold.”

“Is there a point to your rant?” Jett asked, as he set his glass down and leaned back in his chair as he studied me while rubbing his stubble with his hand.
 

“Why did you bring me here?” I shouted, not being able to control my bubbling emotions.
 

“It seems to me like you already have the answers, so why are you invading my personal space and demanding from me something you already know?”

“So, you don’t deny that you’re a liar? That you told me we had some kind of special connection in the cemetery, but you’re just using me in some human pawn game of yours?” My hands were shaking as I continued. “Was this some kind of sick game you decided to play because you are a bored rich man with nothing better to do? Play around with the hooker and see if she finds out the truth?”

He just sat there, silently, not moving a muscle. I wanted to yell and scream in his face, shake his body and find the glimpse of a man I was able to see for a short, but memorable, night. There was no use though, he was not going to drop the façade. I saw it in the way he just stared at me with lifeless eyes.

“Say something,” I shouted, as I threw my hands up in the air, displaying my frustration.
 

“I have nothing to say.”
 

“So that’s it, you are not going to defend yourself, tell me your side of the story, tell me why you picked me?”

“I already did and I don’t go around repeating myself, so if you’re not happy with what I had to say, then frankly, I don’t care. That is your choice…to take someone else’s information over mine. I can’t stop what you believe, or who you believe, for that matter.”

I shook my head as I looked at the floor. “Why are you making this so hard?” I said, almost defeated.
 

Jett stood up, showing off his beautifully sculpted body and walked toward me with such confidence that I felt myself start to shrink in his presence. He owned every room he was present in with such ease that it was hard not to get sucked into his web and do whatever his deep southern voice asked.
 

“The only one who is making this hard is you, Goldie. You are the one who brought feelings into this arrangement, even though from the start I told you I didn’t do relationships, I didn’t do love.”

“I didn’t bring feelings in here,” I said defiantly as I stuck my chin out, trying to show that I wasn’t in fact lying because the man could crumple me with one touch, one look. Feelings, fuck yeah I had them, but to hell if I would tell him that, give him the pleasure of knowing the kind of affect he had on me.
 

He broke the silence with laughter. “Please, you’re practically writing out Mrs. Jett Colby all over your drawings.”

Self-centered, arrogant prick!

“Fuck you,” I turned and pointed at him. “Fuck you, Jett. I’m out of here. I can’t believe I stuck around this long.”

“It’s because you wanted me.”

I was about to walk away when I turned around and slapped him across the face. My hand stung like I just put it on a burning pot, but what really got me was the way that Jett barely even moved his face when my hand connected with it. As if he was expecting to be slapped. He was a robot.

“Maybe I did want you at one point, but right now, I would give anything to be as far away from you as possible. You put on such a good show. Made me believe that I was a part of something, that I was actually taken care of for the first time in nine horrid years, but fuck was I wrong. You are nothing more than a sad rich man with nothing better to do with his life than control women, fuck them when you please, and play mind games so they fall for you and you can teach them a lesson about your damn contract. Well, fuck your contract, fuck this club, and fuck you Jett. I am done with you. I will be out of your manipulative grasp by tonight and don’t worry, I will only leave with what I came with, so when you go and pick a new girl to fuck with, you won’t have to invest much.”

With that, I spun on my heel and walked out the door. A part of me rejoiced for standing up to the man that had controlled the thoughts in my mind since I’d gotten here, but then there was a part of me that was breaking in half, melting away with my heart that was left on the floor of Jett’s office.
 

Before I walked down the stairs, I looked back one last time, to catch one last glimpse of the man that once made me feel like I didn’t have a worry in the world and what I saw burned my soul.
 

Jett was leaning against his desk with his hands in his hair, staring at the ground. The utter deflation coming off his body was unmistakable and so damn confusing. In one swift movement, Jett picked up his glass of what I could only imagine was bourbon and chucked it across the room, as he spun around and gripped his desk.
 

I had one foot starting down the steps and one still on the landing, contemplating my next move. I knew I had to leave; I needed to get the hell out of this house that was currently drowning me, but my feet wouldn’t move for an exit. Instead, they walked back to Jett’s office and stood right behind him. My hands reached out and touched his back, making him stiffen at my presence.
 

“Jett…”

“Leave!” he roared, as he spun around and looked down at me with such malice that I had to choke back a cry. “Fucking leave! Just fucking leave already.”

I backed away as he spat venom at me with the harshness of his words and the hurtful look in his eyes.
 

His head and voice lowered at the same time as he spoke out. “Please leave, Goldie.”

The dejection in his voice made me stay. Why, I had no clue. I should be running for Bourbon Street right now, but the man commanded my attention and had an overwhelming sense of power over me that made me reach out to him.
 

I cupped his face and whispered, “Do you really want me to leave?”

His sad eyes looked down at me and for a brief moment, my heart flipped in my stomach as I saw him saying no, but his words contradicted my thoughts.
 

“Yes,” he said as he walked away from me. “I’ll have Kace give you a ride and your money will be transferred over to your account. You are free to go, Goldie.”

The fact that he kept calling me Goldie and not little one was not lost on me. He was dismissing me; he was done with me. Instead of putting up a fight, begging him to tell me why I was picked why I was here in the club, I sucked up my pride and turned away from him…the one man who ever really held any kind of power over me, a power that was so strong I felt like I was losing myself as I walked further and further away from him.
 

Chapter Forty Two

“I Am”

Jett

The door to my office closed and I waited a few seconds before I crumpled to the floor and rested my head in my hands. The look in Goldie’s eyes when I told her to leave burned a vacant hole into my soul and twisted my gut. There wasn’t a bone in my body that wanted Goldie to leave, but I was hurt and I wanted to hurt her. Fucking pride.
 

Kace came up to my office an hour before Goldie came up and confirmed that she was, in fact, at Café du Monde in the French Quarter, talking with Rex. There was only one thing she would be doing there and that would be considering leaving me and getting together with Rex.
 

I wanted to punch a hole through the wall from the news. I wanted to march down to the café they were at, grab Goldie and claim her as mine, but I knew that was probably the worst idea I ever had because, not only would that be going against everything I believed in, but it would also give the fodder Rex wanted to take me down. I needed to make it seem like I didn’t care if he took Goldie, just like he took Natasha, even though it was eating me up inside.
 

Why did she have such an effect on me? I reached up to my desk and grabbed my bottle of bourbon. I took a long swig and sagged a little lower on the floor as my head rested against the wood of my desk.
 

I technically shouldn’t care. I needed to distance myself from her; she was getting too close to me. It wasn’t her fault, though, it was mine. I was the fucking moron who decided to take her out on a date. I shook my head as I realized that was my downfall. Before the date, I was able to have a tight hold on the way she made me feel. Yes, there were moments where I saw her starting to break down my façade, but I was able to rein everything back in. After the date, I lost myself completely and saw the nineteen-year-old come back. The naïve nineteen-year-old that thought all women were amazing, sensitive creatures that would never hurt me, because even though my mom was not that much a part of my life, she still loved me. I put all my faith in women and then Natasha tore that faith away with her conniving personality and ability to break someone in half without even caring.
 

I was a pathetic fucking sack as I sagged on my floor and drank the only thing that would remove the feelings coursing through my nerves. Fucking feelings. I didn’t do fucking feelings. I was a stoic bastard that took what I wanted, when I wanted it. I didn’t sit around acting all pussy-whipped and drinking over a girl that I barely knew.