Tempting Eden (23 page)

“Hey, can you guys help with the ice sculpture?” Bess’ assistant called. “We’re afraid it’s melting onto the wood floors.”

Jack put me down and I dropped my eyes so he couldn’t see my tears. He and Bess dashed off to save the crumbling tower.

One of the event workers came up to me. “Mr. Poole said he’ll be in the penthouse and that he wants to speak with you.”

I tilted my head back and willed the tears away. Jack and Bess laughed and yelled as they and several others worked on maneuvering the ice sculpture out into the pool area. I couldn’t put this off. Gray would have the last word. He always did. I strode to the elevator and took the quick ride to the top.

Gray sat on a white divan, a glass of red in his hand. He was slumped forward slightly, showing his paunch of a stomach encroaching over the waistband of his pants.

He had poured another glass and left it on the wet bar. He gestured to it when I walked in. I took it, downing it without hesitation. I poured myself another from the open bottle. If he’d offered me something stronger, I probably would have taken it. Anything to ease the ache set off by losing the one chance I had to get rid of Mason.

“Sit, Rochester.”

I was too tired and too beaten to even protest the command in his tone. I sank down onto the overstuffed sofa and kicked off my heels.

“You did well tonight, Rochester. Really well.”

“Not well enough.” I took another long draught. “Sold everything but this glorious penthouse suite.”

He looked around. “It is quite nice.”

“Yep.” I wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible and go back to my room to lick my wounds. “If that’s all—”

“It’s not.” He stood and came to sit next to me. “Just so happens I have a line on a buyer for this place.”

“What? Who?”

“Me.”

Another game. Gray loved to play his games. I took a sip of wine.

“Oh, don’t be a sore loser. You still have the rest of the night to sell this place. I am being sincere when I say I want to buy it. I think it suits me. You know Jean and the kids would love it here.”

“Are you saying that you’ll buy the penthouse tonight and make good on our deal?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” He put his hand on my knee. “But you’re going to have to sell it to me, Rochester.” His eyes moved from my face, down to my breasts, and then down to the vee of my thighs. “It’s not like it’d be the first time you gave me a little
quid pro quo
for a deal.”

I screwed my eyes shut. Instead of the usual Mason standing there, it was Jack. His earnest eyes sought me out. I didn’t want to disappoint him. I knew I would.

Gray’s hand moved up my thigh.

I focused on Jack. I imagined his smile, the dimples that gave way to a more boyish look on him.

Gray took my wine from my hand and placed it on the coffee table.

Jack’s look turned grave. The word ‘no’ was on the tip of my tongue.

But then there was Adele.

Gray pushed me back onto the couch.

Adele, braces, smiling, happy. No Mason there to threaten her, to hurt her. She would never know how she was conceived, would never know any of it. If I could just finish this deal, just give in to Gray one more time, I could have them both—Jack and Adele.

His mouth met mine as he settled on top of me. He tasted of alcohol and cigarettes.

Only this one time more. Just this one time and it’ll be over.

He groaned and squeezed my breast through my top. “I like it when you play along.”

I opened my eyes.
This is all wrong.
I wouldn’t betray myself again. I couldn’t, not now that Jack had come into my life. Adele and Jack were my future, not Gray and his dirty deals. I grabbed his shoulders and tried to push him off.

“What are you doing?” He tried to cover my mouth with his again, but I turned my head. I wasn’t doing this. I would find another way.

His wet lips sealed to my neck. “Don’t play the tease.”

“I don’t want this.” I pushed harder.

“Yes you do. You’ve always wanted this. This is how you do business.” He wrenched my mouth back to his and sank his tongue inside.

Was he right?
Not anymore.

“Eden?” Jack’s voice.

I broke away from Gray’s smothering kiss. Jack stood just outside the elevator. Disbelief in his eyes at first and then anger and then, worst of all, pain.

Gray sat up and sputtered as I scooted away from him.

Jack advanced like a hurricane, all fury. In one smooth movement, he lifted Gray from the couch and slammed him onto the floor. Gray gasped for breath as Jack settled on top of him, his fists swinging in a torrent of violence.

Gray struggled and tried to hold his hands up in defense. Jack swung through them, roaring with rage as he rained down blow after blow. When Gray finally found his breath, he let out a piercing scream.

The sound shook me out of my disbelief. I jumped to my feet. “Jack, stop.”

He either didn’t hear me or ignored me.

Sick thuds echoed around the room as Jack swung and connected with Gray’s face again and again.

“Don’t you ever touch her, you sick bastard!” Another blow, and Gray’s blood shot out across the shiny wood floors.

“Jack!” I screamed and tried to grab his arm. “Stop, you’ll kill him!”

He reared back, his bloody fist poised to do even more damage.

“Jack,” I cried and tried to hold his wrist. “Please.”

He froze as Gray covered his face and groaned.

Inhaling a deep breath, Jack lowered his fists and got to his feet. I stumbled back and fell onto the couch.

Gray turned to his side and curled up in the fetal position, air whistling through his broken nose.

Jack turned his hands over and stared at his bloody fists, the look on his face changing from one of anger to horror.

It gutted me. “I’m sorry. Please—”

“You.” He rubbed his ribs at the spot where I knew the thick black bars were inked into his skin. “You took me back to that place.”

Tears welled, obscuring him from my vision until I blinked and they rolled down my cheeks. “No. I wasn’t going to do it. Not this time.” I got to my feet and stood in front of him, parts of me dying under his withering gaze.

“Not
this time
?”

“You have to understand—”

“I understand it all. You, Gray, the games you play. I thought—” He laughed, the sound hollow and harsh. “—I thought you were this strong, amazing woman. But really you were just a trick looking to score.”

I took his hand. “That’s not true. Not anymore.”

“You broke me down to violence.” He pulled away. “Took me somewhere I vowed never to go again. All so you could
close a deal
.”

“It’s not like that.” My voice broke.

He shook his head slowly, then turned on his heel and walked to the elevator.

I felt the pain that flowed through him because it reverberated in me. “Jack, please, don’t go. Please. Just let me explain.”

What have I done?

He didn’t say a word as the elevator closed, and I lost sight of him.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

J
ACK

Six months later

B
ESS PERCHED ON THE
corner of my desk.

“Any big plans tonight?”

I stopped typing my notes for our next design project and leaned back. “Nothing too special.”

She twirled a lock of hair around her finger. “Going out with Diana?”

“Yes. She wants to see a movie.”

“How’s the whole dating life going? Seeing anyone else?”

“You sure are curious all of a sudden.”

She let the lock of hair fall and gave me a frank expression. “I’ve been curious for the past six months that you’ve been working for me. For the first couple of months, I could barely get two words out of you unless it had to do with work. You won’t tell me what happened with Ms. Rochester. You won’t take her calls. And now you’ve been seeing this Diana St. John for a little while. I just want to check in and see what’s going on. Are you happy?”

“I’m happy working with you.”

“That’s not what I asked and you know it.”

I wasn’t happy.

Atlanta was a dynamic city. Bess was a great boss. When in her natural, unstressed state, she was friendly and winsome, not the harsh perfectionist she displayed for her clients.

Xiao and Co.’s staff had welcomed me with open arms. I’d hit my stride with my design work, my more utilitarian tendencies meshing well with her flair for high-end wow factor. In the past month, we’d designed the interiors for a new high rise in downtown Atlanta.

The listing broker had already sold every unit, and it wasn’t even set to hit the market for three more months. In the short time I’d been with Bess, her business had tripled.

Our office was at the edge of downtown in a glass building near a park. The daylight streamed in at all angles and made our work somehow brighter. My walls were covered with drawings—both mine and Bess’—of the work we’d been commissioned to do for the various real estate projects throughout the city and elsewhere. I was in my element.

After work, when I fought traffic to get to my tiny Midtown flat, things weren’t so rosy. I drank and painted until late into the night, my works growing darker with each passing day. I began to welcome the solitude. My new prison cell was far more livable than my old one. Here, at least, I could do what I pleased.

Ms. Temple called every few days. She’d finally given up on asking me what happened at Belle Mar. I didn’t think she’d ever give up on asking me to come back home to Birmingham.

“I just miss you is all.” Ms. Temple’s voice cracked on the last word.

Her pain glanced off my heart. I didn’t truly feel it. “I miss you, too.”

“Could you come to visit maybe, sometime soon?”

No
. “Maybe.”

“It’s been too long, and you never want me to come see you there even though it’s only a few hours—”

“I told you. I have to work. We have a lot of projects going at the same time.”

She sighed. “I know. So you tell me. Look, Jack, I don’t know what happened between you and Eden, but she’s been coming to see me every week. Every week she pours her heart out to me about you, about Adele, about the court case with Mason. Couldn’t you just come b—”

“I have to go.”

Her silence weighed on me, but I was already six feet deep and covered in frost. Her sadness was just a dusting of snow over the top.

“Fine.”

“I’ll call you in a few days.”

“Love you.”

“Me too.”

“Jack?” Bess snapped her fingers. “Earth to Jack?”

“Yeah, sorry.”

“I’m used to it by now.” She shook her head. “Why do I always have a soft spot for the troubled Jack Englands of the world?”

I shrugged.

“Ugh! Well, go on home then and get ready for your date or whatever it is you and Diana are doing. Do I get to meet her sometime, at least?”

I snapped my laptop closed and dropped it into my satchel. “Doubtful.”

She put her palms on the desk at the sides of her legs and leaned forward. “That means she’s not the one. If you don’t even care if I—your bestest friend in town or on the planet—ever meet her.”

“Two things. One, you’re assuming a lot. Two, you’re assuming
a lot
.”

Diana sucked up some time I’d otherwise spend drinking. She lived in my building. I’d seen her a few times. Nothing serious. She wasn’t particularly bright or interesting, but she helped take my mind off the past. We’d fall into easy discussions about pop culture, food, politics. Nothing real, nothing heavy. Just easy listening for me, simple interaction that kept me somehow sane, kept the memories at bay.

It seemed like that was my main goal—drinking, painting, working, dating Diana—all of it was meant to blot out my memories, to take up my time so I didn’t dwell on Ms. Temple’s bits and pieces of information about Eden’s fall from grace, her firing from Thornfield, her custody battle.

A few tidbits of news did interest me, though. Gray Poole had made headlines throughout the Southeast when he was indicted in a massive loan fraud, as well as racketeering, and unfair competition. The federal government had been watching his expanding real estate empire with interest, especially when they discovered the drug and hooker parties he threw for politicians in charge of zoning and environmental issues. His company was going down in flames and turning his closest cronies—including Thornfield—into smoking ruins. I’d scanned the news stories for Eden’s name, relieved to never see her mentioned.

Her, her, her. That’s where my mind wanted to go. If the feeling ever got too strong and I wanted to break down and call her, I forced myself to recall the image of her the last time I saw her. With Gray. My blood boiled anew each time, the sting of betrayal like a thorn embedded deeply into my heart. I was poisoned, ruined.

Bess leaned back and tapped her dark red fingernail on her chin. “Stop trying to fool me. I know you’re still in love with her.”

I threw the satchel strap on my shoulder. “Don’t start, Bess.”

She looked down, her signature crimson lips in a pout. “I just don’t want you to throw something away. Love like the kind I felt between the two of you doesn’t happen all the time.”

She glanced up at me, her dark eyes serious.

I stiffened. “Bess, drop it. This isn’t something I’m going to discuss. I’ve told you that a million times.”

“But she cares about y—”

“Goddammit, Bess, Eden only cares about herself!”

She cringed away from the harshness of my words. I realized I was clutching the satchel strap so hard my knuckles had gone white. I forced myself to relax and lower my voice.

“I’m sorry, Bess. I just can’t talk about her, okay? I can’t.” I took the few steps to her and lightly squeezed her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

She put her small hand on top of mine. “No, I shouldn’t have pushed. It’s just that I want you to be happy, you know?”