Perfect Submission (4 page)

“Cam!”

Jake wrenches me away. Grant doubles over,
wheezing.

“Seriously, you need to chill the fuck out.”
Jake glares at me. “We’re on your side here. We’re not the enemy.
And this is nothing compared to the questions Isabelle is going to
face in court. What are you going to do then?” he adds. “Put the
prosecutor in a head-lock?”

Reality comes rushing in. I can’t believe I
lost control. This situation has me so on edge, I’m barely acting
like myself.

“Sorry,” I tell Grant gruffly. “I know this
isn’t your fault. I’m under a lot of pressure here. And this case
is personal.” I normally wouldn’t tell Grant something like that,
but he needs to know this isn’t just some regular job, this is my
life.

“I can see that.” He straightens up,
adjusting his shirt. “You’re lucky you’re paying me so much,” he
mutters.

“Consider it doubled,” I say, as a peace
offering.

Grant looks mollified. “I’ll head back to
the police precinct, see if I can’t catch one of the detectives on
a break. Nose around for information about this witness. That Bates
guy looked like he knew his shit, but maybe the kid he had with him
will crack.”

“Good.” I nod. At least it’s a plan. “Call
me later with any updates.”

Grant exits, leaving Jake and I alone.

He strolls over to my wet bar in the corner
and pours himself a shot of whiskey. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen
you lose it like that,” he notes, giving me a knowing look. “This
girl means a lot to you, huh?”

“She means everything,” I say shortly.
“Which is why there’s no way she’s spending another night in
prison. I don’t care what I have to do.”

Jake nods. “Understood.”

I take another couple of breaths, still
trying to calm down. “I can’t shake the feeling that Brent is
behind this somehow. He wants revenge on her for leaving him. He
was the one who brought the police last night.”

“You think he could have dug up this
witness, too?” Jake flips open his notebook.

“Maybe. I don’t know. But the timing, it’s
all off. What witness waits almost ten years before coming forward?
We need to find out who they are. Grant is working the police
angle, so you keep digging into Brent,” I instruct him. “Find out
what he’s been doing these past weeks, where he’s been. If we’re
lucky, he’ll lead us straight to the information we need.”

“Got it.” Jake stands. “I’ll be in touch.
And Cam?” he pauses by the door. “You need to keep it together.
Outbursts like that, they won’t help Isabelle. She’s depending on
you.”

He closes the door behind him with a sharp
click.

She’s depending on you.

Does he think I don’t know that? I’ve never
felt so powerless as watching her get taken away in handcuffs.
Never felt like such a failure as when she fell, shaking in my arms
after her night in jail.

I’m her Master. She’s mine to protect. But
even I have to admit it goes far deeper than that. I’ve never given
this much to anyone, never wanted to. And now, the thought of not
seeing her every day… It’s unthinkable.

Our relationship is more than what happens
in the bedroom. It’s taken over everything, every part of my life.
My heart. She means more to me than I ever imagined, and now
there’s nothing I won’t do to save her.

No line I won’t cross.

I just pray it doesn’t come to that.

Keely has lunch with me, and stays long
enough for me to pull myself together after the terrible police
interview. But she can’t stick around all day, she has a life and a
job to get back to.

“I’m so sorry I can’t push these meetings
any later,” she says, as I walk her to the door.

“I’m fine!” I say, trying to smile. “I don’t
need babysitting, I’m OK, really.”

Keely looks reluctant to go.

“I mean it,” I tell her. “I’m so tired, I
think I’ll just take a nap. Cam will be home soon, and the
doorman’s right downstairs. I’m perfectly safe on my own.”

“OK,” she agrees, then gives me a hug. “But
call if you need anything. To talk, or hang out. I can’t imagine
what you’ve been through, but I’m here to listen if you need.”

“Thanks.” My words catch in my throat. Keely
is being so sweet and supportive, but the truth is, I’m not ready
to talk about it just yet. “I’ll let you know.”

She leaves, and then I’m alone in the vast
apartment. Olivia has been texting me to check in and give
reassurances, but even her kindness adds to my anxiety, so I turn
off my phone and wander the hallways, feeling out of sorts. It was
Cam’s idea for me to stay at home and rest today. I know he’s
worried I’ll have another panic attack or breakdown like last time,
but I don’t feel the same blind panic anymore. Instead, I’m
restless, trying not to think about what happened in the interview
– and worse, the time with Clayton, all those years ago.

I need a distraction, something to take my
mind off the terrible charges hanging over me.

Cam could distract me, no problem…

I shiver, remembering the scene last night.
I was barely keeping it together, but he knew exactly what to do to
bring me back to myself. Just one word from him in that sexy,
dominant voice, and all my anxiety seemed to melt away.

And what happened after…

I feel my body get hot just remembering. He
knew just what I needed: the pain that focuses my desire, that
makes the pleasure so intense. I was completely consumed by the
incredible things he did to my body, it was all I could do to beg
for more.

I gave myself up to him, went further than
we ever did before. But it didn’t feel dirty or wrong, it was
amazing, the intimacy of trusting him to explore my most private
places, to bring me to the edge of ecstasy and control my wrenching
release. I’ve never felt so alive, so fulfilled, or so loved.

It made all my worries disappear – but only
for a while. Now, I’m reminded the reality of my situation. Besides
Olivia’s caring texts, my phone is overflowing with faux-concerned
voicemails from journalists and old supposed-friends, all wanting
the inside scoop on the hottest gossip in the city. I haven’t even
looked online, I can’t bring myself to see what people are saying
about me.

But every minute I’m cooped up here alone,
I’m tempted. I wander into Cam’s office and move towards the
computer. Just one quick peek—

No!

I force myself out of the office and down
the hall. I grab my purse, and put on a big pair of shades to hide
my face. I can’t stay trapped here forever, I need to feel human
again, so I exit the apartment (grateful that Cam’s request for me
to stay home wasn’t an order) and speed-dial the one person who can
make me feel more like myself again.

“Hi, Serge? Do you have room for a cut at
three?”

* * *

I figure that some time at the salon is just
what I need, and for a blissful half-hour, it is. Serge gives me an
amazing scalp massage, and I relax while he blows out my hair. When
he gives me a pointed look in the mirror and asks how I’ve been, I
tell him I’d much rather hear about his week, and like the angel he
is, he gives my shoulder a reassuring squeeze and gleefully
recounts his nightmarish blind date from last night.

The hum of dryers and gleaming polished
mirrors lull me into forgetting everything; I stay hidden in a
booth in the back of the salon and flip through gossip magazines,
pretending just for a moment that I won’t be on the front page of
the next issue.

“We can fit you in for a mani-pedi, if you
like,” he says, when my hair is a glossy mane.

“Perfect.”

I follow him to a chair near the front of
the salon and take a seat. I keep reading my magazines, but slowly,
I realize there’s a strange hush around me.

I look around. The rich, perfect clients are
all shooting looks my way, their heads bent together to
whisper.

“…last night, they dragged her off in
handcuffs…”

“…scandal. But you know, she was adopted
from a bad family.”

“Once trailer trash, always trailer
trash.”

“…I heard she killed him in cold blood…”

Blood rushes to my cheeks. I want to bolt
right out of here, but my feet are plunged in warm water, and
besides, I don’t want to give them the satisfaction.

Act like you don’t hear them,
I order
myself.
Fake that you don’t care.

I turn a page, pretending to read my
magazine, but the whispers only grow louder. I shift in my seat,
feeling sick to my stomach. I wish I could make myself invisible,
and hide from their accusing stares.

Is this what it’s going to be like now?
People gossiping wherever I go. Thinking that they know me, know my
story. Even if we fight the charge in court, the rumors will follow
me forever. I don’t know if I can bear it.

“Isabelle? Oh my lord, is that you?”

I look up to see Nicole and Lulu at the
front of the salon. They’re dressed in their usual uniforms of
designer jeans and chunky jewelry, with silk shirts and glossy
hair. Their heels tap loudly as they come closer.

“We heard what happened,” Nicole breathes,
wide-eyed with fake concern. “Are you OK?”

“I’m fine.” I flip my magazine closed
nonchalantly and force myself to give a bright smile. “Just a
little misunderstanding. Totally overblown.”

“So you weren’t charged with murder?” Lulu
announces loudly.

Everyone goes silent, watching for my
reaction.

“It’s a mistake,” I say breezily, invoking
my well-practiced mask of confidence. “I mean, think about it. It’s
not true.”

Their eyes burn into me, and out of the
corner of my eye I can see people on their phones, too. Everyone is
talking about me. Everyone is saying that I’m trash, a murderer, a
joke. And just like that, I feel my defenses stuttering.

“I should go,” I say, quickly pulling my
feet out of the bowl and jamming them back into my flats. “Nice
seeing you two.” I get up to leave, but they block my path.

Nicole glares. “I can’t believe you’d show
your face in public. I’d be too ashamed.”

I don’t reply. I’m trying too hard to will
away the sting behind my eyes.

“We’ve taken your name off the committee for
the benefit next month,” Lulu adds. “I’m sure you understand, we
can’t be associated with any of this scandal.”

“And don’t even think about coming to the
meetings, either,” Nicole sneers. “We talked about it, and we’ve
decided you’re no longer…
suitable
for our group.”

“We did you a favor including you in the
first place,” Lulu smirks. “We thought maybe someone from your
background would benefit from our guidance, but we were wrong.”

“Guess it’s just a case of nature over
nurture,” Nicole snorts. “What was your mother, anyway? Didn’t she
go to jail, too?”

I grit my teeth as their cruel words cut
through me. I wish I could come up with some smart retort, but I
know if I open my mouth, all I’ll do is cry.

The world I worked so hard to build for
myself has come crashing down all around me as I stand here, while
people point and laugh and whisper among themselves.

I want to stay and fight back, but instead I
grab my things and push blindly past Nicole, tears welling in the
corners of my eyes.

“Miss! Miss!” the manicurist calls after me,
but I can’t stop. Then my foot catches on something, and I go
tumbling to the floor.

Oww.

My knee slams hard against the polished
tiles, but worse than that is the flush of humiliation as I sprawl
on the ground, the contents of my purse strewn across the
floor.

Lulu and Nicole burst out laughing.

I try to get up, my knee throbbing.

“I’ve got you.” A hand comes out to help me
stand. I look up, blinking through my tears. It’s Olivia.

“Come on,” she says, shooting Nicole and
Lulu a fierce look as she gathers my things back into my bag. “This
place is so over. Their clientele is pretty much worthless.”

Olivia steers me to the exit.

“Thank you,” I whisper. “But you don’t have
to do this. They might—”

“Fuck them,” Olivia declares, out loud.
“Under-eating, over-exposed pack of bitches.”

I can’t help but smile through my tears.
She’s so awesome, escorting me out even though it’s social suicide.
Olivia takes me onto the sidewalk and hails us a cab.

“Let’s get you home,” she says, nudging me
inside and climbing in after me. She gives the driver Cam’s
address, then passes me a tissue to clean my face up as we drive
away through the Fifth Avenue traffic.

“I can’t believe I ever thought they were my
friends,” I say.

“Shallow fools,” Olivia comforts me. “You
don’t need them.”

“I know, but still…” I shudder to remember
the whispers. I’ve worked so hard to make my image perfect. Now
they all know the ugly truth. “You heard what they were
saying.”

“And next week they’ll be gossiping about
someone else. Just you wait,” Olivia reassures me. “Someone will
get divorced, or a bad facelift, and you’ll be old news. But until
then, maybe you should keep a low profile. Let the news die
down.”

I don’t believe the news will ever die down,
but I nod anyway. “I just wanted to go out and do something
normal,” I explain. “Try to forget what’s really happening. That’s
why I blew off all your texts today. I’m so sorry, Olivia.”

Olivia squeezes my hand. “Don’t apologize.
Everything will be OK. And you don’t need those bitches anyway,”
she adds. “You know they aren’t capable of having a real human
emotion, even if their lives depended on it. Not that Lulu’s Botox
would let her show it, even if she could.”

I manage another smile. “Thanks again for
rescuing me,” I tell her. “I owe you.”

“How about cupcakes tomorrow?” she suggests.
“You could come to my place. We’ll order in.”

“Maybe, I’ll see how I feel and give you a
call. But thanks.”