Final Call (The Call #2) (5 page)

She looks at me
hesitantly, regret filling her eyes the way tears are filling mine.
I wrap my arms around myself.

“I am so in love with
him that it hurts every time I breathe. Every time my heart beats,
I feel the pain of not having him by my side, and you let me go.
Why, Mon? Why the hell did you let me go?”

Her heels click along
the tiled floor as she approaches me and wraps me in her arms in
the first comforting contact I’ve ever had from her. I bury my face
in her shoulder and cry, the hot tears soaking her shirt. She sighs
as I sob so hard that it really does feel like my heart is being
torn from my chest.

“Because,” my agent
says in a soft voice, “despite my job and the way I act around you
girls, I believe in true love. I believe in the power and the magic
of true love, and I will always send you down that path if you’re
lucky enough to ever cross it.”

“This isn’t love,” I
whisper. “This is pure pain.”

“There’s no love
without pain. When it hurts as much as you do now, that’s when you
know its love.” She smooths her hand over my hair. “Dayton, honey,
when it feels like your whole world has been tipped upside down and
shaken so hard that nothing makes sense except for the steady
pounding of your broken heart, that’s when you know it’s true
love.”

***

Liv’s apartment is
quiet when I let myself in. This is the only place I can bear to be
right now. It’s the only place he hasn’t been.

I know she won’t be
back until tomorrow since her shoot was today, but her tabby cat,
Angus, immediately rubs himself against my legs.

“Hey, buddy.” I bend
down and scratch his back, much to his delight. “Let me in, will
ya?” I lock the door behind me and dump my purse on the table.
“Hey, Angus, do you know if your mommy has any wine in this
place?”

He jumps onto one of
the barstools and purrs loudly. I sigh. Of course he wouldn’t know.
His food tray is nearly empty, so I grab a can of food from the
cupboard and dump it into the bowl before I turn to her fridge.

There’s a bottle in
there.
Bingo.

I pour a glass, kick
off my shoes, and curl up on her sofa. After I find some trashy TV
show and Angus curls up on my lap, my eyes close briefly.

I’m exhausted.
Completely, utterly, mentally, physically, and emotionally
exhausted. I think the only thing that could revive me now is a
year on a remote island with no contact with people, a stack of
books, and a supply of wine.

And possibly my
vibrator, because, y’know. A year is a long time to go without an
orgasm.

I smile at my own
thoughts and shake my head.
Jesus.

A heavy sigh leaves me.
I wish I could go back a couple of months, back to when everything
was simple. When I knew exactly what to expect from my days and
where my life was going. This crazy limbo I’m hanging precariously
in is almost too much to deal with.

I could end it all now.
I could give in and give Aaron what he wants. Me.

I just don’t know if I
can. I love him, but I don’t know if I respect him anymore, and I
sure as hell don’t trust him. How can I? How do you trust someone
who kept something so critical to their life from you?

That doesn’t stop my
heart or my body crying out for him though. It doesn’t stop the
heavy thumps in my chest when he’s around. I still want to sink
into his arms and never leave the comfort of them.

I almost want him to
convince me he’s worth it all. He took so much from me so readily,
but he never really gave me any of himself in return. He so easily
told me to give everything up for him when he couldn’t even give up
a skeleton rotting in his closet. And now… Now he’s fighting.

Now that he’s sorted
his shit, he’s back and he’s fighting. I wonder if he knows what
he’s fighting for. I wonder if
I
know what he’s fighting
for.

I don’t. I don’t have a
clue what he’s doing.

All he says is that I
belong to him. I do. I’m not naïve enough to believe I don’t… But
it’s not enough. Maybe if he said them, the words I want to hear,
it might change things.

Telling me that he
never stopped loving me isn’t enough. If he stands in front of me,
looks me in the eye, and tells me that he loves me, then it could
change everything. I’d know what he’s fighting for, I’d know why
he’s fighting, and perhaps I’d be willing to fight for the same
thing.

Perhaps.

Chapter
Five

“Um, hi?”

I stop my absent
dipping of my finger in the sugar pot and look at Liv. “Hi.”

“Not that I don’t love
you being here, but why the fuck
are
you here?” She drops
her bags and kicks the door shut.

“I’m hiding.”

“Right.”

“Angus has been keeping
me company. He’s not one for conversation, is he?” I cast a glance
at the cat. He hops off the stool, his tail in the air, and stalks
off. “Kind of moody, too.”

“He’s a cat,” she
replies flatly. “Why are you hiding?”

“Don’t ask.” I lick my
finger free of sugar.

“I wish you wouldn’t do
that.” Liv wrinkles her face. “It’s disgusting. I’m going to have
to replace my sugar now.”

I shrug and dip my
finger back in. “I’ll carry on then.”

“It’s Aaron, isn’t
it?”

I roll my eyes. “It’s
always Aaron. He’s a pain in my fucking ass. A relentless pain—like
that annoying muscle ache you get after working out too hard.”

“Why don’t you just
tell him to fuck off?”

“I did.”

“And?”

“He told me I belonged
to him. Do I look like I have a collar with a nametag on to
you?”

Liv’s eyebrows arch.
“Okay, Dayton. I think you’ve had enough sugar.” She takes the pot
from me, slams the lid on, and puts it on top of a cupboard I can’t
reach. “And enough alone time with my cat. How long have you been
here?”

“Two days. I told the
guy who lives opposite you that he didn’t have to feed Angus. He
seemed kinda happy about it.” I would be, too, if I’m honest. This
cat is a menace. “Anyway, I thought you were coming back
yesterday?”

“I was, but I decided
to stop by and see my parents. I wasn’t expecting your mopey ass to
be here, was I?”

I shrug. “Whatever. I
thought Monique might have called me with a job, but she
hasn’t.”

Three days with nothing
is unusual—even without the sex side of the job. In a city like
Seattle, there’s always someone who needs a lunch or dinner date or
even someone to accompany them to an art gallery opening or some
shit.

Three days of complete
silence is unheard of.

“Really? Nothing?”

I shake my head and
take the cup of coffee she offers. “I’ve checked my cell about a
thousand times. No calls or messages. I don’t know what’s going
on.”

“Have you tried calling
her?
”

“No. I spoke to Aunt
Leigh this morning and she said it was probably just a quiet week
with everyone preparing for the new art gallery opening this
weekend.”

“Aren’t you going?”

“Yeah. I’m supposed to
be escorting someone. I haven’t heard anything about it though,
which is odd since it’s in a few days.”

Liv waves my phone in
front of my face. “Again with the calling.”

“All right, all right.
I’ll call her when I get home. I think Angus hates me now
anyway.”

My best friend glances
over my shoulder at the cat, who’s eying me evilly. “Angus hates
everyone if he has to spend longer than two hours with them. He’s a
temperamental little bastard.”

“Like his momma,” I
mutter and finish my coffee.

She smacks my leg. “Get
out of my apartment.”

I grin and grab my
stuff. “I’ll call you later when I’ve spoken to Monique.”

“You better.”

I leave her apartment
and climb into my car. It’s fairly early in the morning still, so
there isn’t much traffic, and it doesn’t take long to get across
the city to my house.

I ignore the message
alert on my phone and head straight for the shower. Once I’m
dressed and looking and feeling somewhat human, I lie back on my
bed and call my agent.

“No,” she answers.
“Nothing today.”

“Jesus. Mon, that’s
three days now. There has to be something.”

“You have no jobs
booked, Dayton.”

“Why? Clients don’t
just drop off the edge of the Earth—even with my reduced list.
What’s going on?”

A long silence follows.
I wet my lips with my tongue, my stomach clenching into a ball of
fear. Like I know what she’s going to say.

“You’re booked,” she
says softly. “Permanently. I can’t book you any jobs.”

I sit up and look at
myself in the mirror. Eyes wide, lips parted, cheeks flushed. “If
you say his name, I’m going to go ten shades of batshit crazy.”

“I’m sorry. He’s paying
for you indefinitely.”

I close my eyes and
rest my hand across my forehead. “Aaron’s booked me? Permanently?”
I clarify although my gut knows it.

“Yes.”

“Jesus fucking Christ!”
He really wasn’t kidding when he said that I’d never fuck another
guy. “He has more money than sense. Shit! What’s he playing
at?”

“You know what. This is
up to you now, Day. I can’t do anything. I had no choice but to
accept his offer. It was that or he could close this business
now.”

“He threatened
you?”

“He’s that desperate. I
can’t be mad at him. If it were Ross, I’d do everything I could to
get him back.”

“I can’t fucking
believe him. Unreal. I gotta go.” I hang up and throw the phone
down.

I stand in the middle
of my room, my breathing coming hard and fast, and look around
aimlessly. Who the fuck does he think he is? To buy me and threaten
my agent?

Without another
thought, I pull some boots on. Standing here in my room isn’t going
to get this straightened out, so I’m going to give him what he
wants. I’m going to go to him, but I’m not going to roll over
submissively.

I’m going to kick his
sharply suited ass until his balls turn blue.

My car beeps as I
unlock it from the key fob, and I tear out of my driveway angrily.
I hope Aaron isn’t busy, because he has an unscheduled meeting with
me.

***

My heels click against
the floor as I cross to reception. A gorgeous blond woman smiles up
at me.

“Can I help you?”

“Yes, you can. What
floor is Mr. Stone’s office on?”

“Floor forty-seven,
madam, but I’m afraid you’re not allowed there unless you have an
appointment. He’s in a meeting.”

“It’s okay. I’m his
girlfriend. He’s expecting me.” I smile convincingly and head
toward the elevator. Yeah, his girlfriend who doesn’t know where
his office is. Super convincing, Dayton.

Still. Meeting or no
meeting, this shit gets sorted today.

I take deep breaths as
the elevator takes me to the top floor. It’s all glass doors and
walls up here, and it takes me seconds to find the boardroom
Aaron’s having a meeting in.

I push the main doors
open and walk right past his receptionist, who does her best to
stop me. I ignore her calls of “Miss, miss! You can’t go in there!”
and shove the door open.

Six men in tailored
suits sit around the table. Aaron is at the head of it, and he
slowly comes to a stand when he sees me. Silence descends on the
room as everyone turns to look at me, eyebrows rising and lips
pursing as eyes settle disapprovingly on me.

“Dayton?”

“Who the fucking hell
do you think you are, Aaron Stone?” I point my finger at him. “How
dare you!”

He smiles
apologetically at the shocked faces between us. “Excuse us,
gentleman. It appears I’ve done something to anger my
girlfriend.”

“Anger? This is beyond
damn anger! You’ll be lucky to be breathing when I’m done with you,
you presumptuous bastard!”

Aaron takes my
shoulders and pushes me from the room. He leads me across the
floor, past his bewildered receptionist, and unlocks the door to
what is presumably his office. I don’t pay any attention to the
room around me as we step inside and he releases me.

“I’ll be back in five
minutes.”

The door shuts behind
me, and my mouth drops open when I hear the click of a lock. I grab
the handle and shake it. That asshole! Where the hell does he get
off locking me in his office—
again
?

I pace angrily, my
fists clenched at my sides. Thankfully his office doesn’t have
glass walls. I’d probably bear a great resemblance to a caged
animal to anyone walking by. A rabid bear or hungry tiger are my
guesses.

I stop and perch on his
desk, leaning my head back with a deep sigh. Pacing is doing
nothing but hurting my feet. Stupid fucking boots. I pull the evil
heeled boots off and look around his office.

The windows to my side
are floor to ceiling, giving an uninterrupted view of Elliott Bay
and the fat, green-and-white ferries running back and forth between
the city and Bainbridge Island on the opposite shore. It’s a
soothing sight, and a little of my anger trickles out of my
body.

The desk I’m perching
on is thick glass, perfectly cleaned, and covered in neat stacks of
paper and files. I lift some of the files, drag my fingertip across
the glass, leaving a long smear across it, and smile. Immature,
yes, but now I feel slightly better.

Aside from a leather
corner sofa at the far end of the room and two leather chairs in
front of me, the rest of the office is empty. Nothing on the walls,
nothing telling where the two doors behind me lead to…

The lock clicks once
again, and Aaron strolls in surrounded by an aura of calmness. Like
I didn’t just storm into a meeting and scream at him.

I fold my arms across
my chest and watch him as he shrugs off his jacket and hangs it on
a hook behind the door. He brings a strong hand to his neck and
loosens his tie, his nimble fingers deftly undoing the top button
of his shirt.