Filfthy (60 page)

Brilliant camera flashes light up the inside of the backseat, despite the dark tint on the windows.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his hand on my knee.

“I’m fine.” I reject his touch, pulling away. “Have them drop me off at the Gramercy.”

I’ll get a room tonight, away from Poppy, away from Keir, away from all of this. And tomorrow, I’ll go back to Derek in Rixton Falls.

I’ve never been one to rely on anyone else, but right now, I could really use a dose of his signature calm. Despite everything, he’s been my rock since the moment he walked into my life.

He’s the rock I never knew I needed—the rock I never wanted to need.

He’s the serene in all the crazy.

The weight of Keir’s stare makes me cringe. My skin itches, as if it’s allergic to him. I stare out the passenger window and check for street signs to gauge how close we’re getting to the hotel, and I marvel at the fact that he’s not using this time to talk my ear off.

The SUV pulls up at the entry of the Gramercy, and I work the door open before it crawls to a full stop.

Keir runs after me. “There’s something you need to know.”

I stop, arms folded, and turn to face him. “I highly doubt that.”

A cab screeches to a stop behind the SUV, and a group of paparazzi file out. The flashes begin all over again. I’m sure a photo of Keir and me is worth a pretty penny, considering my public meltdown and the gossip and scandal sparked from the calling off of our engagement.

I eye the front lobby. They’re not allowed in there. I need to get inside.

Keir closes in, pressing his chest nearly against mine and staring deeply into my eyes. “I love you, Serena, and I messed up. I admit it. I take full responsibility for ruining what we had. But you should know that Veronica put me up to it. She paid all three of us a
lot
of money. You were set up.”

My stomach drops. I’m going to be sick. I glance into Keir’s remorseful stare and feel nothing but anger flooding my veins. I’d hit him if it weren’t for the photographers.

“You were supposed to love me.” My voice is raised. “How could you, Keir?”

“I’ve asked myself that every day.” I barely hear him over the yelling of the paparazzi. “Can I come inside and explain? I’ll tell you everything you need to know.”

Every part of me wants to scream in his face and tell him no. But he has information I need. Information that will help Derek and our case against Veronica.

“As long as explaining is
all
you intend to do.” I turn and walk through the lobby doors, fishing my wallet from my clutch and taking a deep breath.

His hand finds the small of my back, and he whispers in my ear that he’ll take care of the room tonight. And then he tells me to head to the bar, saying I’m going to need a drink before we begin.

D
erek

I
tuck
my daughter in Saturday night and stand at the side of her bed, watching her sleep for a minute. Her white blonde hair is splayed on her pink pillow, and she tucks her hands in a prayer formation under her left cheek. I don’t care what anyone says, Haven Rosewood is an angel.
My
angel. I would
murder
for this girl, and that says a lot, seeing as how I work for the
right
side of the law.

We spent the entire day together doing anything she wanted to do. Ice cream. The park. The children’s museum. A bike ride with Grandma Bliss. Pizza. Legos. Barbies.

Ten minutes ago, she
asked
to go to bed, and she never does that.

All day, I focused on my daughter, and I did everything in my power to ignore the flood of questions working like background chatter in my head. I spent an hour feeling like I needed to know what Serena was doing. Who she was with. If she was even going to come back. And then I smacked myself out of it, gave myself a mental pep talk, and reminded myself that Serena Randall’s personal life is none of my business.

She’s my client. I’m her attorney.

I’m not her boyfriend.

I don’t even want to be her boyfriend.

This is the kind of shit that gives relationships a bad name. People spend too much time fixating on other people, things beyond their control, that they’re never truly happy. They spend their lives addicted to the peaks and valleys, the highs and lows.

It’s no way to live, and it’s certainly not the way I intend on spending the rest of this one life I have to live.

After I close Haven’s door, I sink down into the leather club chair in the living room and slide my phone out. My fingers hover above the screen as I check my messages.

I have a text, but it isn’t from
her
.

KESLEY – I’m outside! Let me in.

ME – Outside . . . where?

KESLEY – Your door, idiot. Hurry. Not getting any younger.

Grumbling to myself, I lift myself from the chair and make my way to the door, peering out the peephole. Sure enough, there’s Kesley Black, former fuck-buddy extraordinaire. I met her shortly after my divorce, both of us newly
un
-married and neither of us in search of anything serious. She’s not from Rixton Falls, but she comes here for business from time to time, and she always looks me up when she’s in town. Kesley’s the true definition of a fuck-buddy, and in that regard, she’s worth her weight in gold.

But for the first time since I’ve known her, my cock doesn’t make so much as a twitch when I glance through the peephole and see the tight little number hugging the overabundance of curves she wears so well.

I pull the door open, and she dives into my arms, pressing her DDs against me as she jumps in her pointed heels.

“Look at you! Is it possible you’ve gotten better looking since I last saw you?” Her hands glide up my chest and she breathes me in, lifting on her toes to kiss me, but I don’t oblige. Kesley pouts, a strand of bleach blonde hair falling in her green eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“For one, my daughter’s here, so you need to keep it down.”

“Oh. Shit. Sorry.” She bites her lip. “I didn’t know.”

We step in, and she kicks off her heels, instantly losing four inches and fitting just beneath my chin. Her arm links into mine and she pulls me to the living room, making herself at home the way she has dozens of times before.

“What are you waiting for?” She pats the seat beside her.

I hesitate. “Kes, I’m not in the mood.”

She pouts, arms folding against her chest, propping them up even higher than they were before.

“I got all dolled up for you.” She holds her wrist under her nose then moves it to mine. “Even wore your favorite perfume.”

“It’s been a long week.” I lift my hands behind my head, interlacing my fingers and yawning. “Was actually getting ready to head to bed.”

Her face scrunches. “Seriously? At nine o’clock on a Saturday night?”

“Right.”

“I’m not coming back to Rixton Falls for another two months. You’re going to leave me hanging like that?” She pouts again, the way she used to when I’d make her
beg
for my cock. The girl had a thing for dominant and submissive play, and who was I not to oblige a lady’s fantasy? Kesley reads my face for a moment. “Oh, my God. You met someone.”

“No.” I shake my head, glancing away from her and toward the view of the night sky behind her, and once again, I find myself wondering what Serena’s doing right now.

“Liar.” She grabs a throw pillow and tosses it at me playfully. “What’s she like?”

I take the seat beside her, legs spread and hands resting in my lap as I stare ahead blankly at the flickering TV screen. Maybe if I bore her to death, she’ll leave on her own.

“There’s no one,” I assure her as I flip through the channels.

“You sure?”

“Yep.”

“Good.” She climbs into my lap, straddling me and slinking her wrists along the sides of my neck. “I didn’t want to give you up to someone else.”

Kesley leans in for a kiss, and without thinking, I turn away.

What the hell is wrong with me?

“Derek.” She sits up straight, arms falling off my shoulders. “Why are you being so weird?”

“Told you. Not in the mood.”

Kesley slides off my lap, falling into a pool of submissive surrender between my knees. Her fingers waste little time working the button of my jeans. My cock just sits there, refusing to get up.

Her tongue glides along her upper lip. “Maybe I can get you in the mood . . .”

I move aside, standing and adjusting my disheveled shirt. “Kes, you need to go.”

She rises slowly, her cheeks burning. I’m sure she’s humiliated, but it is what it is. I tried to warn her.

Tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear, she looks up at me with tear-filled eyes. “You don’t think I’m sexy anymore?”

Jesus Christ.

This is why girls like Kesley are strictly fuck-buddy material. There’s not much going on in there except for an intensely unnecessary focus on the exterior.

Vapid.

“You’re sexy as hell, Kesley,” I say, placing my hand on her arm.

“There
is
someone else.” Her voice breaks, and I see now that she’d been holding out hope that our little
arrangement
would someday morph into something more. Never saw that coming. She smiles through misty eyes. “All right. Fine. I just hope she makes you happy.”

I don’t answer, choosing neither to confirm nor deny her allegations.

“Life’s too short, right?” She sniffs, brushing the tip of her nose against the back of her hand and staring up at me as if she wished it were her instead. “You find someone that makes you break the rules, you have to hold on and never let go.”

I nod. “Something like that.”

Fuck. More like
everything
like that.

“Take care, Derek.” She moves toward the door, stepping into her fuck-me heels, and turns to face me, lifting her hand to my cheek. “She’s a lucky woman, whoever she is. Just promise me one thing.”

“What’s that?”

She places a pointed finger against the left side of my chest. “If you truly care about her, let her in
there
.”

I place my hand over hers and pull it away. I haven’t let anyone in
there
in over two years, and I’m not even certain the stupid thing functions anymore.

“Thanks for the advice, Kes.” Unfortunately, I won’t be needing it.

“Had I known February was going to be our last time, I would’ve worn that stupid French maid costume you always wanted me to wear.” She laughs, her green eyes lighting. Everything about Kesley is pretty and simple, and though I never took the time to get to know her that well, I’m positive she’s going to make some man very lucky someday.

“I hope you find what you’re looking for,” I say. “I’m sorry I couldn’t give you what you wanted.”

“No regrets.” She shrugs, smiling, and reaches for the door.

And with that, my arrangement with Kesley Black has officially dissolved.

I head to bed, setting my phone on my nightstand, and I check it once last time, like a lust-sick moron, and find nothing. Rolling over to the spot where I claimed Serena’s body last night, I grab the pillow she buried her head into while I entered her from behind. It smells like her. Grabbing a fistful of downy fabric, I chuck it across the room.

I’m not angry at her.

I’m angry at myself and my ridiculous inability to pull my head out of my ass and stop moping around like an imbecile.

S
erena

W
e finish
our drinks at the bar and head up to the suite Keir reserved to speak in private. I take a seat on the far side of a herringbone-printed loveseat and cross my legs, tuning my full attention his way.

“All right,” I say. The cocktail I just enjoyed is sweeping through me, making everything warm and mellow despite tonight’s turn of events. “Tell me everything. And stay on that side of the room. I don’t think you’re capable of keeping your hands to yourself tonight.”

Keir mixes himself a Belvedere and soda from the mini bar and steps closer. He slips his suit jacket from his shoulders and takes a seat at a table-for-two a solid six feet away, never taking his eyes off me. The way he drinks me in makes me long for the days when we were happy, when our love was shiny and new, and when our futures were a delicious daydream we were quickly shaping into a reality.

“I’ve done many things I’m not proud of. I’ve never claimed to be perfect. I have a disgraceful number of regrets for a man my age.” Keir spins a crystal tumbler between his thumb and forefinger, glancing away for a second before returning his ocean blues my way. “But hurting you? That’s the biggest regret of them all.”

“If you’re trying to garner my sympathies, it isn’t working.” My words are dry and callous, and he deserves every one of them.

“Veronica approached me several months ago.” He clears his throat before taking a swig of his drink. “She asked me to meet her for dinner because she had a proposal she wanted to run by me. I assumed it had to do with the wedding, so like a dutiful future son-in-law, I agreed.”

He tucks his head, running his thumb along his brow bone.

“Instead,” he says. “Her proposal involved paying me to have sex with two of your friends and ensuring that you’d walk in on it.” He shakes his head, huffing. “Fifteen million dollars to buy my unfaithfulness.”

“Jesus, Keir. Why?” My lips tremble. The familiar ache in my chest is my heart breaking all over again. “You knew I had money. You were marrying me. You didn’t need the money. Christ, your family has money. Did I mean that little to you?”

“No, no.” His jaw tightens. “You meant the world to me, Serena. You still do.”

“I don’t understand why you’d agree to something like that, especially when you weren’t exactly hurting for money in the first place.”

“My family has money, sure, but I won’t see an ounce of it until they’re long gone, and let’s face it, Montgomerys tend to fucking live forever.” He sighs, as if it’s a bad thing. “And to be honest, I secretly resented that you were going to have to take care of us after we married. I wanted to bring something to the table. I didn’t want to be some pathetic leech.”

“What made you think we’d still be getting married after I walked in on you screwing two of my best friends?”

He shakes his head, tugging his lower lip between his teeth and releasing a defeated laugh. “That’s just it. I
wasn’t
thinking. I guess I was blinded by dollar signs because I truly believed you’d forgive me. I thought our love was powerful enough to get through this. I thought it’d be a small hiccup.”

I sulk. “A small hiccup. Are you kidding me?”

“I know. I was so transformed by her offer; I didn’t think it through. I just went for it. And you should know that Natasha and Tenley aren’t your friends, because they didn’t bat a lash when I presented the idea to them.”

I snort, picking at a thread in the arm of the loveseat.

Bitches.

Although, I guess I could say now that they did me a solid. I’d have been marrying a man stupid enough to claim he loved me and reckless enough to think I’d forgive his self-serving indiscretions.

I glance around the room, my eyes washing over the expensive lamps and the modern wallpaper, and none of it feels like home.

If I could be anywhere right now, I’d be lounging on Derek’s sofa, in his apartment, razzing him and pretending I wasn’t wildly attracted to him and two seconds from jumping his bones.

“Why would Veronica want to do this to me?” I look up at Keir, who’s despondently nursing his drink like
he’s
the victim.

“I don’t know, Serena. I think she just wanted to hurt you. To take the only thing you’ve ever loved. She wanted you to fall apart.” He blows a steady breath, looking back at me. “And that’s exactly what you did.”