When I’m With You (Indigo) (6 page)

“Yes.”

Without uttering another word, Marcel got out and walked around to the other side of the car. He opened the passenger door and helped Caitlyn out.

Caitlyn looked up at him. “Marcel, I’ll understand if you don’t want my baggage at your doorstep.”

He didn’t bother to shut the door and kept his gaze steady with hers. “When can I see you again?”

* * *

“Why haven’t you made any headway with BF Automotive?” Seated behind a huge marble-topped desk, Louis Hennings, president of New York City’s largest car dealership, held the phone from his ear and stared at it, unable to believe what he’d just heard.

When he jammed the receiver back to his ear, he shouted, “You incompetent fool. This should never have gone on this long. The meeting for the new dealership is in a few weeks, and BF Automotive is still in the picture.”

Leaning back, he whispered in a low, cold tone. “I don’t want to hear about problems. Frankly, I don’t care about problems.” With a death grip on the receiver, his voice inched up a notch with every word. “Fix the damn problems.”

“Incompetent bastard.” Louis mumbled another string of oaths right before he slammed down the phone. A light tap at his door made him momentarily hold back another outburst. “What?”

“Wow. What’s your beef?” Antonio, the company’s chief financial officer sauntered inside and stood in front of Louis’s desk.

Louis frowned, his brown eyes almost black from fury. He rose from his chair so abruptly it toppled over. “What do you want?”

Antonio looked stunned and tossed a manila folder in the center of Louis’s desk. “I want to know why you’re tossing money down the drain going after a dealership in California. That’s what.”

Louis stalked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking downtown Manhattan. “BF Automotive is making things difficult for me.” He spaced each word evenly. “I hate complications.”

“Tell me something I don’t already know.”

Louis whirled around. “I want the dealership they bid on.”

Antonio shook his head in confusion. “Back up. First of all, who the hell is BF Automotive?”

Louis faced the window again without answering.

“We have more business here than we can handle right now.” Antonio propped his right hip on the edge of the desk. “Besides, this is another business deal, right?”

Louis turned around slowly, a wry smile at the corner of his lips. “For your information, it’s not.”

“Then what is it?”

“Listen, your job around here is to handle the finances.” Louis jabbed a finger at the center of his chest. “I’m the CEO, and I decide what dealerships we go after. Clear?”

* * *

After their first lunch date, Caitlyn and Marcel saw each other every day. She eagerly accepted his invitation to attend a banquet at the Marriott City Center in downtown Oakland. Merritt Corporation, an Oakland-based communications company, hosted the annual black-tie affair, and Caitlyn was thrilled that Marcel was being honored with an award for his outstanding achievements in community service.

After the two-hour event ended, Caitlyn made a quick trip to the ladies’ room. She looked stunning in a black-and-white off-the-shoulder gown with a bias-split front that clung to her petite frame and showed a hint of cleavage.

On her way back, she spotted Marcel in the hallway outside the ballroom. She stopped, her eyes moving admiringly over the man dressed in a black tailored tuxedo accented with a brilliant red-and-silver brocade vest and a black silk ascot. Not wanting to disturb his conversation, she walked closer, but remained silent behind him.

“Marilyn, thank you for coming.” Marcel leaned down and placed a soft kiss against her cheek.

Marilyn offered a genuine smile. “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” She looked up and softly cleared her throat. “I believe your lovely date has returned.”

Marcel turned and slowly bobbed his head up and down. Caitlyn was a deadly combination any man would be a fool not to appreciate. She was classy and sexy at the same time.

Caitlyn smiled. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.” She walked up to Marilyn. “Hello. I’m Caitlyn Thompson.”

Marilyn nodded graciously. “I’m Marilyn. I’m pleased to meet you.”

Caitlyn figured this was one of Marcel’s business associates and tossed her thumb in a joking gesture in his direction. “So, do you work with this character?”

“Uh…yes, I do.”

Caitlyn studied the soft golden features of the woman in front of her until her brow arched. “God, your voice sounds very familiar.” The sweet, husky utterance was unmistakable. She stared a few seconds longer, her mind rewinding in the process. “I’m sorry, but I’d swear on a stack of bibles that I’ve talked to you before.”

Marilyn glanced nervously at Marcel, but didn’t comment.

Without warning, Caitlyn’s stomach flipped, and she stepped back with her arms hugging her small waist. “I have spoken to you.” She swallowed back the lump lodged in her throat. “You’re the person I spoke to a few weeks ago to arrange a meeting with a philanthropist to discuss funding my youth center, aren’t you?”

Caitlyn studied the agitated glance between Marcel and Marilyn. “If I remember correctly, you said your name was Marilyn Jenkins, right?”

Marilyn nodded slowly. “That’s correct.”

“Y-You said the philanthropist you represented received my proposal. Isn’t that right?”

Marilyn quickly glanced over at Marcel then to Caitlyn before she lowered her head. “Yes.”

“And…” Caitlyn sensed something wasn’t right and immediately turned to Marcel. “What’s going on here?”

He grabbed her hand. “Caitlyn, listen, let’s go somewhere—”

“Marcel, do you know anything about all of this?” She pulled her hand free.

He released a long sigh. “Yes.”

Caitlyn stood rigid. “Well, are you going to tell me?”

After a pregnant pause, Marcel softly uttered his admission. “Caitlyn, I’m the philanthropist Marilyn represents.”

Caitlyn took a step back, her dark brown eyes flashing and jaw clenched. “So, you’re telling me you’ve known about me and the youth center all along?”

Marcel jammed his hands in his pockets, took a deep breath and planted his feet apart. “Yes.”

Caitlyn started to laugh, but the solemn look on Marcel’s face made her think otherwise. “This is a joke, right?”

When Marcel didn’t say anything, she silently prayed he would tell her her imagination had gotten the best of her. “Marcel—”

“Caitlyn, listen…”

“How long have you known about me and the center?” Before he could answer, she hit him with another question. “Don’t tell me from the day we first met.”

With his eyes focused on the floor, and without lifting his head, he admitted the truth. “No. Long before that.”

Caitlyn’s slanted eyes grew to the size of quarters. “What do you mean, long before that?”

He released a hard breath and his left hand landed at the base of his neck. “I-I received your proposal three weeks before I met you.”

Caitlyn felt insulted as the impact of his admission settled in. He had merrily gone along for five weeks now, not once bothering to reveal the truth to her. She’d done it again, she inwardly chided. She’d trusted another man who’d betrayed her, and at that moment, she felt like the biggest fool who had ever walked the face of the earth. Without so much as another word, she turned and strode toward the lobby door.

Marcel’s attempt to catch up with Caitlyn was halted by business associates and friends who surrounded him to offer their congratulations. His only goal as he half listened to what they were saying was to reach her before she made it out the door.

He issued a number of apologies, brushing against people in the crowded hallway as he swiftly pushed forward. He wasn’t as close as he wanted to be, but it was near enough for her to hear. “Caitlyn.”

When his hand touched her shoulder, she spun and landed a punch on him. “You no-good slime ball son-of-a-bitch.”

He raked his hand across the top of his wavy black hair. “This isn’t the way I wanted you to find out.”

A group of attendees walked by, and she pursed her lips together. Once they passed, she connected with a left hook. “Well, guess what, you didn’t try hard enough.”

“Caitlyn, please—”

“Don’t.” She shook her head and took a couple of steps away from his outstretched hand. “You knew and didn’t tell me.” Pointing to the center of her chest, her voice quivered. “God, I was such a fool to trust you.” Despite glossy eyes and a rigid back, she regained her composure. Not for anything would she let him see her fall apart. “You know what? It’s not a problem. You didn’t matter to me anyway.”

He shook his head furiously. “Don’t go there, Caitlyn. We matter.”

“Well, if we matter so much, w-why didn’t you tell me?”

He didn’t answer right away, and for the first time in his life, he didn’t want to be Marcel Baptiste the philanthropist. “I didn’t want what I have to get in the way of who I am.” He moved closer to her. “Not where you’re concerned.”

“I’m not following you.”

Inching even closer, he blew out a hard breath. “When I became a philanthropist five years ago, it was under the condition I remain anonymous.”

Realizing their conversation was taking place in the middle of the lobby she turned and walked down a hallway. “Okay, let’s say I believe you. It still doesn’t explain why you didn’t tell me, especially since we’ve gotten to know each other.”

Marcel’s words lodged at the back of his throat and prevented him from doing what he’d never done with any woman: share the desires of his heart. “I’m sorry.”

“
I’m sorry
.” She planted her hands at her waist and arched her brow. “
I’m sorry
? That’s it? That’s all you can stand here and say?” Her brow rose coolly. “What kind of game are you playing here with me, Marcel? Do you truly think you can waltz into my life, turn on your charm, flash your wealth behind the scenes and I’ll fall down at your feet? Is that it?”

“No, Caitlyn. It’s not like that at all. I admit I made a mistake.” He scanned the hallway where they stood. “Please, let’s go inside one of these rooms and talk about this. Can we do that?”

“No…we…can’t…The time for you to talk was five weeks ago.” A perfectly manicured red nail waggled in front of his face. “Look, I don’t know how you’re used to dealing with women, and I don’t plan to stay around to find out, understand?” She stepped to her left to move past him.

He quickly followed, gently grabbing her wrist. His tone was contrite. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry.”

She ignored the endearment and mimicked his baritone voice. “Talk to me, Caitlyn. You can trust me, Caitlyn.” A single tear rolled down her cheek. “Well, you know what? You can go to hell.”

He winced. Her words stung more sharply than any physical blow. “Caitlyn—”

“Don’t Caitlyn me.”

Marcel glanced down the hallway again, wanting to locate a place they could talk alone. He would’ve begged for a spot in a broom closet at the moment. “Okay. Let’s just leave here and go somewhere to talk this over. Anywhere you say. Your place, my place…anywhere.” He placed his hand on her arm and pleaded. “I want to try and make this right.”

“Well, I don’t want you to make it right.” She looked down at his hand and slowly let her gaze trail back to his face without uttering a word, silently warning that his hand and arm were perilously close to detachment.

“Caitlyn, please—”

“Didn’t you hear what I just said?”

He dropped his hand. “All right. I’ll take you home.”

“No.”

“What do you mean, no?”

She whacked the side of her head. “Oh, I forgot. You don’t understand
that
word, do you? Well, let me see if I can make it a little plainer for you here.” She crooked her finger, urging him closer until his face was near hers. “Go straight to hell.” She turned and walked away.

Marcel caught up with her outside near the valet station. “Caitlyn, you don’t need to take a cab. I brought you here, and I plan to take you home.”

She folded her arms across her chest and didn’t bother to look in his direction. “I prefer it this way.”

He turned her so they faced each other. “Caitlyn, I’m sorry.”

“Save it for the next sucker who comes along.”

“I’m not giving up on us.”

She ignored his comment and waved at the approaching cab. When it stopped, she reached out to open the door.

He loosely grabbed her wrist. “My woman doesn’t ride in the back of a cab.”

Although her heart melted at his declaration of ownership, Caitlyn glared back with a look as pointed as a switchblade. “Be sure to tell her that when you find her.”

“I’ve already found her.”

She shrugged, snatched her wrist free and climbed in the backseat.

He held the door open and squatted. “You know and I know we can work through this.”

“The only thing I know is that this discussion is over. I want you to take your testosterone-induced ego and leave me alone.” She grabbed the door handle and pulled, causing the door’s edge to hit his knee.