There's Something About Her, A Manhattan Love Story (14 page)

I rest my head against the seat. Vincent surprises me by kissing my neck. Stupid me, I turn toward him. Our mouths meet.
 

He boosts me up onto his lap, stuffs his hand under my skirt, and finger-fucks me. I whimper against his lips. The driver is probably in the most uncomfortable position on earth, especially when Vincent flips me onto my back. I lay on the seat with my legs spread and his face between them. I shove the driver seat to brace myself as warm breath and a warm tongue stimulate me.
 

I open my mouth wide and release an unrestrained scream when I climax. Vincent finger-bangs me until I calm down. I thought he would be done after that, but he starts all over again. Leather crunches as the driver squirms uncomfortably in his seat. Vincent sucks on my pussy lips. He likes doing that. His thumb rims my ass as his tongue stimulates my clitoris. I can hardly take it.
 

I think I feel the car speed up. I come so hard my whole body trembles. Vincent climbs on top of me and unzips his pants. He doesn’t make love to me. Vincent fucks me, giving it to me hard.
 

He rolls his tongue around my lips. “Taste yourself, baby.”
 

I take his tongue into my mouth. He bangs me and bangs me until he shouts as he comes. Once it’s all out of him, he collapses on top of me.

“We’re here,” the driver announces in a shaky voice.
 

Vincent helps me up. I pull my dress down over my legs, avoiding contact with the eyes in the rearview mirror. What just happened?
 

Vincent zips up his pants, takes out his wallet, and gives the driver a five-hundred-dollar bill. “For your trouble.”
 

The driver gladly takes the inflated tip. Hell, he earned it.
 

Vincent and I sit beside each other on the airplane. As soon as we buckle our seatbelts, he holds my hand, and that is how we stay. Occasionally we gaze into each other’s eyes. We do a lot of kissing but no talking. I can’t deny that I feel something that just won’t go away for Vincent Adams. Our flight touches down four hours later. One last kiss, and I let go of his hand.

“Wait,” Vincent says and reclaims my hand. “Just wait.”

“I have to get to the hospital.” There’s no use in prolonging the inevitable. I want him out of sight. Hopefully that will keep him out of my mind.

“It’s complicated, Maggie.”

Having my hand in his feels natural.
 

“I bet,” I say after a long period of silence.

The door to the airplane opens. I don’t let him hold my hand or touch me when we exit. A car awaits, and I have no option but to ride into the city with him. It’s a little after eight p.m. Vincent has the driver drop me off at St. Anne’s Hospital.
 

There’s no better feeling in the world than coming home after a trip to somewhere that’s the antithesis of Manhattan. The buildings, the lights, and the people pounding the pavement offer comfort. They all remind me that I can get back to the life I had before Vincent fucked me and ruined it. The car rolls to a stop in front of the hospital entrance.
 

“I’ll see you at the office tomorrow,” Vincent says.

I watch how the light streaming in illuminates his miserable expression. He’s good looking to the extreme. One would think that he would use it to his advantage, but he’s just gazing at me as if his entire world has come crashing down upon him.
 

“Okay. Thank you. I had fun,” I say.

He sniffs with disdain and tears his eyes from my face. I scoot out of the car and hurry into the hospital. I want to look back to see if the black car is still parked along the curb, but I fight the urge.

***

Vincent Adams

Vincent watched until Maggie cut a sharp left and disappeared out of sight. He’d hoped she would turn around, run back into his arms, and say a lot more than what she left him with.
 

“She had fun.” Is she fucking for real?
 

What a way to make a man feel cheap. It was more than fun for him. Their encounter had changed his life, changed his mind. Vincent couldn’t articulate those changes. He could only say that he was different.
 

Sure, he’d placed the calls to make their trip to Aspen happen. Maggie was right that Reginald Champion was the point of contact. He ran the show from his office in New York. He’d given Vincent the “it’s too late” bit, but to change his fortune, Vincent promised Reginald two free commercial spots on Prime D TV and paid double the amount of the highest sponsorship for the End of March Powder.
 

To say that Maggie received preferential treatment would be an understatement. He never would’ve paid into the event for anyone else. However, Reginald said he couldn’t fly out on Monday to give him a tour of the site because a storm was rolling into Aspen. Vincent had asked Reginald if he had a contact already in Aspen. That’s how he got Darius’s number.
 

Vincent had to get Maggie to Aspen on Monday for two reasons. He’d thought Maggie had made plans to meet up with some guy later that night, and Robert had suddenly become interested in coming into the office to work after bumping into her at the polo match. Vincent knew Robert had designs on Maggie, and he couldn’t stomach the thought of another man making love to her.
 

When Vincent saw Maggie at the wedding, he’d thought he was hallucinating. He recalled her face often over the years. Every time one of his relationships went bust and he needed to figure out why, he reminded himself of the butterflies that had fluttered in his stomach the first time he laid eyes on her.
 

At the wedding, she’d looked just as miserable as she did twelve years ago. He figured Charlie had something to do with it. In high school, they used to walk down the hallways bickering like an old married couple. Vincent couldn’t quite get the gist of their arguments, but he did make out a few of the topics. Once they fought about him “sending mindless debutantes” to her classroom. Another time, Charlie didn’t back her up in an argument she had with her mother.
 

Vincent had often wished to be in Charlie’s shoes. The way she ripped into him was cute. It appeared as if Charlie enjoyed pushing her buttons. Plus, Vincent wanted to know everything about the rare bird that flew into town but she didn’t say much to anyone except Charlie and a couple of the teachers.
 

Vincent had watched her as much as he could. He had never been jealous of another human being until he found out she had a thing for Rob. Sabotaging the possibility of the two of them becoming a couple was instinctual. He wouldn’t have been able to bear it if they had started dating.
 

Vincent rolled down the window to get a whiff of New York air. It smelled and tasted like life. The time had come for him to power on his cell phone. Ten seconds later, it chimed. He checked the number. He hoped it was Maggie calling to ask him to return to the hospital or stop by her apartment later. He needed to make love to her, and the sooner the better.

A cloud of disappointment settled on him as he slid his finger across the screen to answer the call. “Gabrielle.”

“Vincent, why the hell did you cut your phone off? I’ve been calling like crazy.”

Vincent closed his eyes to breathe in the final traces of Maggie’s peach-scented hair and their sex. “Sorry. I’m tired, Gabrielle. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

“Did you forget about tomorrow?”

“What am I supposed to remember?”

“Saint Tropez?”
 

He slapped his forehead. “Shit. Can we reschedule? Something came up.” The car stopped in front of his building in Midtown.

“No, we cannot reschedule! What the hell’s wrong with you? You didn’t call me for three days, and I couldn’t reach you. Is there something you’re not telling me?”

Vincent wanted to just say it. He wasn’t in love with her and never had been, which they both knew was a fact. Her father, Peter Rossetto, was holding a rifle to his head in the form of a contract. He’d threatened to pull his money out of A&Rt Media Group, which would immediately bankrupt them, if Vincent didn’t marry Gabrielle. A&Rt was merely a financial investment to him, and he stood to gain a hefty profit if he backed out of the contract, which they stupidly gave him the option to do. Back then, he and Rob were young, eager and not as astute as they are now.
 

“No,” Vincent forced himself to say. “We’ll stick to the plan.”

She sighed with relief. “That’s what I want to hear.”

“I’ll see you in the morning.”

“You’ll see me tonight,” she purred, laying it on thick.
 

Vincent looked out the window and up toward his sixty-fifth-floor penthouse suite. “Are you at my place?”

“I’m in your bed.”
 

“Shit. Gabrielle, I’m still in Colorado. I fly back early in the morning.”

“What? No,” she whined.

Vincent took a deep breath. “Yes. Tomorrow. I’ll see you in the morning.”
 

Vincent ended the call and powered down the phone. He was in hell. He had to spend a full week alone in Saint Tropez with Gabrielle.

“Maggie,” he whispered.

“Vincent, are you going up?” the driver’s voice said over the speaker.

“No. Take me to the office?” He would work for an hour or two and then walk over to the Waldorf Astoria to stay the night.
 

Chapter 11

A Rude Awakening

A security guard escorts me to the elevators and keys in the code for a non-stop ride to the twenty-third floor, east wing. It’s a cordoned-off section of the hospital that looks more like a luxury hotel. Jack has purchased privacy and special attention for Daisy.

“Mags, you came anyway?” Jack says as soon as I set foot into the room. He doesn’t look happy.

I take off my coat. “It’s only a little after eight. Chill out.” I walk over to give him a peck on the cheek. “How is she?”

Daisy is sleeping on what looks like a pillow of clouds. The bed looks ten times more comfortable than mine.
 

“Resting, finally,” Jack says.

I touch Jack’s shoulder and sit in one of the armchairs. “I understand why she needs to keep going. I don’t think I would be able to slow down either.”

He shakes his head. “Daisy and I, we’re going to do shit differently once we get out of here.”

“Oh yeah, like what?”

“No more traveling. Did you know she’s taken two trips for the cab driver series since we found out she was pregnant?”
 

Daisy does look tired as hell. Her skin is chalky, and her vibrant, pouty lips are purplish. She’s still beautiful. She always looks as if she’s caught up in a moment of ecstasy, even while sleeping.

“I’m sure she’ll slow down after this,” I say to make him feel better.
 

Jack snorts. I don’t think he’s too sure about that. I’ve been dying to ask a question, and there’s no time better than the present to ask it.
 

“Jack,” I whisper, “she wants the baby, right?”

He hesitates. “Yeah,” he answers unconvincingly.

Daisy never makes comments about being pregnant like most expecting mothers. I never hear about her ankles swelling or cravings or gas or the rest of that stuff. She hasn’t gone shopping for maternity clothes. I’ve seen her in three-inch heels at least four times. She seems disconnected from her pregnancy, but no one’s questioned her about it because she’s always seemed radiant and healthy.
 

“You two must have a real discussion about everything, you know?” I say.

Jack looks uncomfortable. “I just want her to be happy.”

“You want everybody you love to be happy. You move mountains to make me happy, but that never stops you from spanking my ass when I need it.”
 

He studies Daisy as he ponders.

“Hey,” Charlie says. He walks timidly into the room, keeping his eyes on Daisy. “Could I…” He stops at her bedside.

Jack and I are shocked to see him. Jack throws up his hands, giving Charlie the “okay.” Charlie kisses Daisy’s forehead.

“Sit here,” Jack says as he rises out of the only other comfortable chair in the room. Jack stretches out on the bed beside Daisy instead. She stirs a little and rests her head on his chest.
 

“Hey, Chuck,” I say, grinning at Charlie.
 

He snickers and shakes his head. He knows why I look so giddy.

“What the hell is that all about?” Jack asks.

“What’s what all about?” Charlie snaps.

“The looks you two are giving each other. Something happened. What happened?”

“Nothing,” Charlie says at the same time I say, “He had sex with Monroe.”

“Get the hell out of here. Your friend Monroe?” Jack asks.

I bob my head like a crazy person. “Yep.”
 

Charlie shakes his head. “Well, did she like it? I haven’t heard from her since.”

“Unfortunately, I had to hear about how much she liked it. But don’t fuck her again, Chuck. I don’t want you screwing around with my girlfriends. It’s a conflict of interest.”

“What did she say? What did she like?”

“I’m not repeating it.”

“I’d like to know what she said,” Jack chimes in.

“There’s no way in the world I’m going to repeat it, so you both are out of luck.”
 

Charlie blows on his knuckles and rubs them against his chest. “I was that good, huh? You would’ve told me if she thought I sucked.”

I flex my eyebrows to concur. “Just leave her alone from now on. You and Monroe together is a bad idea. You’re immature, and frankly, she’s not that far behind you. That makes for a relationship from hell with me in the middle. So no, do not go there, and I mean it.”

“Well, thanks for letting me know what you really think of me.”

I shrug one shoulder. “You earned it.”

“You’re no Mary Poppins, Magnolia Bud.”

“Screw you, Chuck.”

“Cool it. Daisy’s trying to rest,” Jack warns.

“Resting was over ten minutes ago,” Daisy mutters, taking us all by surprise.