Annihilate Me (23 page)

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Authors: Christina Ross

BOOK: Annihilate Me
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CHAPTER NINETEEN

 

In
the limousine, we sat close to each other, my hand holding his deep in his lap
and my head still spinning from what he’d said to me a moment ago.
 
He was considering marriage?
 
Since when?
 
Shouldn’t we date for a few months
before we even got to that point?

I really need to speak to Lisa.

“Things
have changed since the last time we were out together in public,” I said.
 
“Now, I’m your hired consultant, not
your hired companion.
 
How do we
play this?
 
What are we
tonight?
 
Because it’ll look a bit
odd if your consultant is holding your hand.
 
I just need to know what you expect from
me.”

“You’re
my girlfriend and my consultant.
 
As
far as I’m concerned, nothing’s changed.
 
I know you’re not ready for the word ‘girlfriend,’ and I know I probably
freaked you out a moment ago with talk of marriage, but that’s how I feel about
you and our relationship, and I don’t take those words lightly.”
 
He smiled at me.
 
“And I’m convinced that, sooner or later,
neither will you.”

“You
sound awfully confident.”

“That’s
because I am.
 
I didn’t expect for
this to happen to me again in my life, but it has.
 
I’m grateful.
 
And I’ll do what it takes to make you
see that I’m right.”

He
bent over to kiss me on the lips, then he kissed my neck, and then his head
dipped lower to my breasts.
 

“Alex...”

“Just
a kiss.”

“But
you can’t do that to me now.
 
I’ll
be a wreck if you start.”

He
took one of my breasts in his hands, and massaged the tip of my nipple while he
gently kissed my ear.
 
The
stubble again.
 
It’s truly going to
be the end of me.

“Please—,”
I begged.

“Will
you join me later tonight?
 
My
place?”

“You
know I will.
 
But not here.
 
I can’t have my head in the ether, and
you’re driving it there now.”

He
reached into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out a folded piece of
paper.
 
“That’s for later,” he said,
handing it to me.
 
“Put it in your
clutch for now.
 
Whenever you doubt
how I feel for you, read it.
 
Steinbeck says it best.
 
I
copied a passage from his book of letters for you.
 
All of it’s in there.
 
Everything I feel about you and about us.
 
Read it when you’re ready.”

I
wanted to read it right then, but he was back to nuzzling my neck.
 
I could smell the woody scent of his
cologne, and it seemed as if it was a part me of now.
 
Sometimes, when I wasn’t with him, his
scent was one of the things I remembered most, and right now, it was within me.

“We’re
getting close,” I said.


You’re
getting close?”

I
laughed.
 
“No!
 
Well, maybe.
 
If you keep this up I will be.
 
But we’re almost there.
 
Oh, that feels good.
 
OK.
 
Stop.
 
I need to focus.
 
I can’t fall out of this car when we
arrive, and if you don’t pull it together, that’s going to happen.”

“You
think I’m able to focus right now?” he asked.
 
He took my hand and pressed it between
his legs, where I could feel his hardness.
 
He was teasing me, but I could tease back.
 
All right
, I thought.
 
Let’s do this and see
how quickly he can compose himself
.
 
I started to stroke him in his pants,
and when his head dipped back, I grabbed him in my hand, squeezing until it
gave him the same kind of pleasure he gave me.
 

“Stop,”
he said.

“Why?”

“Because
I get it.”

“You
don’t want to fall out of the car?”

“I’m
not sure I can leave the car like this.”

“You
started it.”

“So
I did.
 
Can you blame me?”

“What
I hope is that you can hide
that
when you get out of the car,” I said,
releasing him.
 
“It’s going to look
like a tent.”

“Same
goes for your nipples.”

“You’re
terrible.”
 
I reached for my clutch,
saw the note on top of it, tucked it inside, and wondered again what it
said.
 
Later
.
 
I
removed my compact, and turned on the light above me.
 
“Oh, Bernie,” I said.
 
“He’d be having none of this.”
 
I patted my face with powder, and then
reapplied my lipstick.
 
I looked at
Alex, who was adjusting himself in his pants.

“Tight
fit?”

“You
don’t even know.”

“Actually,
I have a fairly good idea.”

He
grinned at me.

“We’re
supposed to be adults,” I said, smiling.

“Oh,
right.
 
That.
 
Well, that can go to hell if it means we
can’t do this.”

“Do
you want to neck later?”

“Very
funny.
 
And by the way, I want to do
a lot more than that.”

“Looks
like we’re here,” I said as the limousine slowed and pulled left to the
curb.
 
“Are you ready for this?”

“I’m
still hard.”

“Good
luck with that,” I said.
 

“You’re
supposed to help me.”

“Seriously?
 
That thing has a mind of its own.
 
You should be proud of it.
 
Get out there and show the damned thing
off.”

“You’re
incorrigible.”

“Look
who’s talking.”

The
driver opened the door, and flashes of lights began to pop from the crowd of
reporters and paparazzi standing along the sidelines.
 
I held out my hand to the driver and
tried to step onto the sidewalk as elegantly as possible despite the length of
my dress and how turned on I was.
 
Eventually, Alex emerged from the car, and while he acknowledged the
crowd with a wave, he stood close behind me for what I could only imagine was a
very good reason.
 

“Are
you able to walk?” I asked over my shoulder.

“Barely.”

“Wenn’s
stock would skyrocket if you revealed to the world what you’re packing in your
pants.”

“Hilarious.
 
And by the way, it’s your nipples that are
going to be on Page Six tomorrow, love.”

“Let
them be.
 
I earned them on the drive
over here.”

On
impulse, I turned to him and kissed him full on the lips as our bodies were
sheathed in an unimaginable display of light.
 
Men and women called out to us.
 
They didn’t know me yet, but they
absolutely knew Alex, and they egged him on to turn this way and that.
 
To my surprise, he held me at his
side.
 
We posed for photographs, and
then he returned my kiss in such a way that I knew that one or many of these photographs
would go viral by morning.

And what is the board at Wenn going
to think of that?
I thought.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

CHAPTER TWENTY

 

When
the elevator doors opened and we arrived on the rooftop, it was teeming with
people, and an orchestra was playing at the opposite end of the roof.
 
More composed now than we were earlier,
Alex took my hand in his and we walked into something that looked as if it was
out of a fairytale.
 

How
did Henri Dufort ever manage to create the gardens I saw before me now?
 
Just getting the dirt up here alone had
to have been a massive undertaking, never mind all the established bushes,
flowering shrubs and grass that I saw.
 

At
this height, the city views were magnificent.
 
Better yet, probably because the
building was buffered by the Park, which was just across the street, it wasn’t
as windy as I thought it would be.
 
Instead, there was only a light breeze that was buffered by the trees
he’d planted and that made the lower half of my dress seem almost weightless
when the air caught the material and caused it to ripple around my ankles.

A
waiter with a silver tray filled with glasses of champagne stopped beside
us.
 
Alex took a glass for each of
us.
 
We sipped and walked along the
tiled surface, the lot of which was bordered by the gardens.
 
The space was huge and carefully
designed.
 
The gardens were meant to
be a spectacular feature, but not impede the deck’s main
purpose—entertainment.

“This
is incredible,” I said to Alex.

“I’ve
seen a lot of impressive rooftops, but I have to admit, you don’t see this
every day.”

“How
did he ever manage to do this?”

“Google
it.
 
The
Times
did a big piece on it when it was
finished.
 
All the details are
there.
 
It’s a good read.”
 
Something caught his eye, and he brought
his glass to his lips.
 
“Shit,” he
said.

“What?”

“Your
old friend Tootie Staunton-Miller is here.
 
She and her husband Addy are coming this way.”

“Well,
at least I like Addy.”

“There’s
nothing not to like about him.
 
As
for her?
 
She’s a viper.”

“I'm
ready for her.”

“You’ll
need to be.”

“Alex!”
Tootie said as she closed the distance between us.
 
She was wearing a sleek navy blue
evening dress that, even at her age, didn’t betray an extra pound of body fat.
 
She was nothing if not fit and well
preserved.
 
She gave Alex an air
kiss on each cheek, and made a clear point to ignore me.
 
“You look as handsome as ever,” she
said.

“Hello,
Tootie.
 
Addy,” Alex said.

“Good
to see you, Alex,” Addy said.
 
“And
also you, Jennifer.
 
You look more
beautiful each time I see you.”

“Thank
you, Addy.
 
You look pretty dapper
yourself.”

“I
appreciate that,” he said, ignoring his wife’s disapproving glance.
 
“This is a wonderful party.
 
We arrived just after you two.”

“Yes,”
Tootie said.
 
“That was quite a
display of affection we saw when you exited your car.
 
All caught by the cameras.
 
All calculated for the press.”

“Excuse
me?” Alex said.

“Nothing,
nothing.
 
Sorry, sorry.”
 
She shot me a glance.
 
“It’s just that’s it’s so unusual to see
anything like that at these sorts of events.
 
Most of us eschew the press.
 
I nearly gasped when I saw you two
entwined so romantically with each other.”

“There’s
nothing wrong with spontaneity,” Alex said.
 
“Or romance.
 
I rather enjoyed it.
 
Tootie, you remember Jennifer?”

“How
could I forget Jennifer?
 
Hellohoware?”

I
held up my glass of champagne.
 
“As
effervescent as ever, Tootie.”

“No
doubt.
 
That’s a pretty dress.”
 
She stared straight at my plunging
neckline.
 
“It’s almost understated
for you.
 
Who designed it?”

“Dior.”

She
waved a hand in the air.
 
“Dior,
Dior.
 
The last time I saw you
,
you were in Dior.
 
You must
experiment, Jennifer.”

“The
last time I saw you, I was in Valentino.”

“Oh.
 
I don’t—”

“Remember?
 
Care?
 
It really doesn’t matter to me.
 
Either way, I
have
been experimenting.
 
You should see whom I’ve been wearing.
 
But you haven’t.
 
I guess we don’t travel in the same
circles, Tootie.
 
I’m beginning to
think that we’re worlds apart.
 
At
least on some levels.”

She
seethed at that.
 

“We
just returned from a brief trip to Maine,” Alex said, trying his best to break
the tension.

“Maine,”
Tootie said.
 
“That’s right.
 
That’s where you’re from, isn’t it,
Jennifer?
 
Inland, I believe?”

“That’s
right, Tootie.
 
Inland.”

“I
can see why you got out.
 
Manhattan
offers so much more.”

“Manhattan
has its perks.
 
But Maine?
 
I love Maine.”

“Really?
 
Even inland?”

“Even
inland.
 
The people are real
there.
 
Nobody is fake or pretends
to be something that they aren’t.
 
You can go anywhere and feel welcomed there, not judged.
 
Never judged.
 
I love inland Maine for that very reason.
 
In fact, I count on it for that.”

“How
interesting.”

“Is
it interesting?”

“I
find it interesting.”

“Then
that’s what’s interesting.
 
As for
the coast of Maine, which you’d probably enjoy, it’s another story all
together.
 
The Rockefellers have
several estates there.
 
And then
there are the Morgans and the Vanderbilts.
 
And obviously the Astors and the Fords, who have estates that would
leave even you breathless, Tootie.
 
Or maybe they wouldn’t—who knows what impresses you?
 
Also, a fair amount of Hollywood lives
there, though I doubt if you care a trace about them because none of them are
in the book.
 
Still, you get the
idea.
 
Maine calls people to its
coast.
 
It’s special.
 
And really, if you don’t want to be
disappointed in Maine, as I sense you might be if you somehow found yourself
stranded inland for instance, you just need to know where to go.
 
For instance, the ocean isn’t so far
from where I used to live.
 
In Bar
Harbor, there’s a fantastic place called Thunder Hole.
 
You should see it, Tootie.”

“It
sounds to me like some awful theme park ride for children.”

“It’s
actually an impressive display of nature.
 
When the tide surges in, it offers up an angry, almost violent explosion
of water that tunnels into the sky.
 
I think you’d take to it quite readily.”

“I
don’t know what that means.”

“It’s
not important.”

“Did
Alex meet your family while you were there?
 
I’d love to hear about
that
.”

“We
went down to the Point,” Alex said.
 
“You remember our home there, Tootie.
 
You went with Mother several times.
 
Probably twenty years ago.
 
Jennifer and I decided to visit, and to
take some time out for ourselves.”

“That
sounds romantic,” Addy said, clearly annoyed with his wife.

“It
was, Addy.”

“I
can only imagine
how
romantic it was,” Tootie replied.
 

I’d
probably hear about it later, but I didn’t care.
 
I leaned toward her, and said, “You have
no idea.
 
I’m still sore.”

Her
mouth fell open, and I saw Addy try to suppress a smile.
 
Alex took a long pull on his champagne
and reached for my free hand.

“It
was good to see you, Addy,” I said.

Addy’s
eyes twinkled.
 
“It’s always good to
see
you
, Jennifer.”

“And
you, Tootie.
 
Seeing you always is a
curiosity of insights.”
 

“What
does that mean?”

I
decided to let her figure it out on her own.
 
Alex and I started to walk forward into
the crowd.
 
“Enjoy your evening,” I
said.

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