Deceived - Part 3 Chloe's Revenge (9 page)

“Why do you even keep that place?” His voice held a note of impatience, as he moved around the breakfast island to hand me his plate. “Just bring more clothes and move in here. I have a big new washer and dryer that are way better than those old ones at your place.” he said, nonchalantly, as if this idea was a given.

I bit down hard on my lower lip, pausing with one hand on my hip. “You know I’m not ready to move in, Patrick. It has only been a few months that we have been together.” I swung the dishwasher door shut with one swift move, and walked around to the other side of the breakfast island, subconsciously feeling the need for open space. Maybe doing the dishes here in this beautiful kitchen was making me feel too domestic and I wasn’t ready for that role just yet. I still had the need to feel independent, like I was in control of my life.

I had watched my mother cater to my dad her entire life, and she was consumed by it. From my perspective, she lost a part of herself in that role, in her interpretation of what it meant to be in a committed relationship with a man, and quite frankly, it kind of scared me now to think of it. Is that what love meant? To lose yourself in another person, to the point of giving up part of whom you are?

“You know I love you but seriously, we are not ready for the next step. You of all people should understand that all the turbulence with the Baroness makes things unsteady.” I flung my hand in the air, as I paced back and forth, looking for my tote bag to put my dirty clothes in.

I was getting skittish about this whole topic. Patrick came around from behind the island, and stood leaning one hand onto the granite countertop listening, as I stopped to face him. The expression on his face revealed that he was giving serious thought to my words and what I was trying to communicate about my feelings.

“For now, I like having my own place, even if I'm not there often, it’s still a feeling of security for me to have it. What if we have a huge fight, and I feel like I need to get out of here, where would I go?” I cocked my head and shifted my weight to one foot, folding my arms across my chest.

“If we got in a fight, where you felt like leaving, I would go and you could stay here. I would never compromise your feelings.” He gestured with both hands, palm up.

“But it would still be your place.” I said, and in spite of my reserve, a tinge of exasperation came into my voice as I dropped my arms to my side, opening up my closed stance. “I like having my own independence, and I need for you to understand that, honey.”

“So, you still don’t trust me?” His voice dropped in volume and he hung his head like a hurt puppy, as he slunk down onto the stool. “I love you, and I just want us to be together. I want to wake up every day with you,” he said, as he lifted his head, directing an intense gaze at me.

“But that’s just it! I do trust you. I trust you with all my heart.” I punctuated my words, placing my hand over my heart. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. But we can’t go from zero to a hundred in ten seconds. I need time to adjust. There is nothing I want more than to wake up with you every day too, but let’s go slow.” I moved closer to him on the stool and placed my hands lightly on his shoulders, my eyes searching his for approval.

He studied me thoughtfully for a moment and then replied, “I know, you’re right.” He shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. “I am a possessive man. I want you here next to me all the time,” he said, looking up into my eyes, his hands jostling my hips in an agitator motion. “It seems silly that you are in your apartment when you could be here with me instead. We love each other and we should be together, every second we can.”

Turning, I broke free from his hands, and stepped a few paces away. “But don’t you see hunny, that would suffocate our relationship. We both need alone time. Time to filter and digest all of our emotions. This is still new for us and in order to learn from all of it, we need space. Sometimes we have to step away to appreciate what we have. We need distance and air to grow a relationship.”

“Wow. I can see you really did your homework. I guess I can’t argue with that.” Slapping his hands on his thighs, he stood up briskly, the light tone in his voice, melting the serious mood in the room. Placing his strong hands on my shoulders, he squared me in front of him. “Okay, Chloe, I agree, but I want you to know I’m doing it reluctantly, because I want you here all the time. However, I would never want to suffocate you. I don’t want to force anything. I want our relationship to grow naturally, just as you do.” He smiled and pulled me into his body, encircling my waist with his arms. I was beaming with contentment. I was glad he wasn’t a control freak and was man enough to value my emotions and needs. I slipped my arms around his neck, my heart bursting with joy, and facing each other, with heads tipped together, we rubbed noses, Eskimo style, as his lips tenderly caressed mine.

The soft vibration of Patrick’s phone filtered through his pocket to invade our embrace. Patrick groaned at the interruption, but answered it anyway. “Hey Ryan, what’s up?” The expression on his face perked up, as he released me from his arms.

“Awesome, see you in a bit.” He shoved the phone back in his pocket and said, “your laundry is going to have to wait. We’ve got to meet Ryan at his office. He’s received a report from Mark Blunk.”

“Wow, that was quick.” My eyes widened with anticipation. “Hopefully, he has found something good.”

“Let’s hope so. Come on, let’s go.” Patrick spoke eagerly, as he grabbed his keys and we headed out the door.

Moments later, we slipped in the backseat of a yellow cab, making our way to Ryan’s downtown gallery. Beads of sweat rose up on Patrick’s forehead. I could tell that he was as anxious as I was to find out what Mark had uncovered. My adrenalin was pumping, and it seemed like the cab couldn’t get us there fast enough.

Chapter 9

Patrick confidently strode into Ryan’s office, and I was just a step behind him. Once inside, I was struck with the memory of the last time I was in this office, at the top of the stairs, the night of the erotic art showing. I glanced down at the glass top desk Ryan was sitting behind, and smirked. Everything still looked the same, the large oak desk with the glass top, the college photograph of Ryan and Patrick on the wall, it all looked familiar, however, just a little different in the daylight.

”So, what have you got Ryan?”

Ryan stretched out his arm, holding a report in his hand, “Take a look at this. You won’t believe what he found. It’s even better than we could have dreamed.”

He handed the report to Patrick. His eyes darted across the page and a stern look crossed his face, red blood rising to his cheeks. “Oh-My-Fucking-God. This is unbelievable.”

“What?” I asked, or more like demanded, my heart was pounding out of my chest.

Patrick handed the report to me, with a strange look on his face that appeared to be one of sorrow for me, and at the same time, heart stopping serious. “You better sit down for this,” he said, and pulled out a chair for me.

My hand was shaking as I read the report. My pulse rose and my jaw dropped. The heat rising to my face, was hot enough to fry an egg. I suddenly felt sick to my stomach, and I struggled to catch my breath, as I gasped aloud, “Oh my God! Is this for real? What a psycho-bitch. How could she do this?” I fell back in my chair, letting the paper drop out of my hand, as if I couldn’t stand the thought of touching something associated with her vile deeds.

“Are you okay, Chloe?” Ryan stood up and came around from behind the desk. “Can I get you some water?”

Still in shock, I mumbled, “Yes...some water, please.”

Patrick rubbed my shoulders until Ryan returned with a bottle of water. After a few sips, my breathing stilled and my head felt clearer. I began to think more logically and looked up to Patrick.

“Well, this is it, right? There is no way any of her clients will stay with her after this comes out. She will get what she deserves. Right, Patrick? She will go to jail for this, right?”

Patrick shot a grave look over to Ryan and back to me, knowing he had to be the bearer of bad news, and I wasn’t going to like what he had to say next.

 “Unfortunately, we can’t really use any of this. We hacked into her computer, after all, so this information was obtained illegally, and would be dismissed immediately, even if it got as far as being presented as evidence,” Ryan explained, as he slapped the report down on the desk with disdain.

My outrage propelled me to the edge of my chair, and I bursted out, “No fucking way! She’s not going to get away with this. I’m not letting her, even if it’s the last thing I do, that bitch is going down.” There was nothing Patrick could do but try to contain me in my chair. I was spitting fire.

“Easy, baby. She’ll go down alright. We just have to do it the right way,” Patrick said, in a cool tone, his eyes dark with resolve. He walked over to the window, and with his eyes focused out into the ethers, he spoke facing the glass. “Ryan, isn’t there a charity event this Friday?”

Ryan threw me a curious glance, and replied, “Ah, yea. There’s a homeless center charity at the Wilshire Hotel.” He paused. “What are you thinking, Patrick?”

“How can we find out if the Baroness is going?” His voice sounded even, and he spoke in a calculating manner.

“That’s easy, I’ll just ask Elyse. She’ll know for sure,” I piped up. I could feel my shattered confidence rising, glad to be of service in this plan, and not just a pile of wrung out emotions.

Turning from the window, he said, “Can you find out, now?”

“Sure, I'll just text her,” I said, reaching for my purse to retrieve my phone. After a moment of tapping out the text, a response appeared. I looked up to Patrick, and said, ”She’s going alright.” I glanced back down at my phone, signaled by another bing, and snorted. “She’s actually one of the guest speakers.” I shook my head at the irony of the situation. If only these people, these good-hearted people at the charity event knew how dark the Baroness’ heart was, they would realize that she was an unethical hypocrite.

“Perfect,” Patrick said, with a glassy stare. “Ryan – you can get us tickets, right?” He seemed to be speaking to us as if he was lost in thought, not fully aware of our presence in the room.

“So, what’s the plan? Somebody please, tell me before I go mad.” I couldn’t take the suspense any longer, I needed to know what he was planning.

Patrick snapped out of his daze, and with one eyebrow raised said, “It’s actually quite a genius plan, if I may say so myself. We are going to need Mark Blunk’s help again, along with some help from his friends. Here’s what we do...”

Ryan and I leaned in, as Patrick lowered his voice to explain the details of his plan.

Chapter 10

Elegant gowns swished across the plush carpet in the lobby of the Wilshire Hotel, as ladies with high hairdos filed into the main ballroom for the City Center Homeless Shelter’s charity event. I milled around the large round tables, elegantly set for dinner and decorated with rose embedded floral centerpieces. I was searching for Ryan and Patrick’s place cards, designating their seats for the dinner portion of the event, which would be followed by the guest speakers. Early on, I had decided not to join them at their table, as I didn’t want to risk the chance of crossing paths with Baroness, but I wanted to know the location of their seats for the evening. I scouted out one side of the back of the large ballroom, while the two of them split up and looked on the other side of the room, trying not to look too conspicuous about what we were doing. Patrick and Ryan looked especially handsome in their black tuxedos, always a little James Bondish looking in my opinion. I chose to wear a simple, yet elegant, black, strapless, floor length dress, with a silver and black sequined jacket.

As soon as we located where they would be sitting in the room, a noisy, flustered commotion, drew our attention to the double entrance door closest to the podium, near the front of the room. It was the Baroness and her entourage, making her usual entrance, surrounded by fanfare. The mere sight of her, twisted my stomach into knots. It looked as if her seat for the evening would be up near the podium, with all the other VIPs and guest speakers. That was good, because Patrick’s seat was near the back of the room and I was glad there was as much room as possible between the two of them.

I couldn’t let her see me, so I gave Patrick a quick glance to say good-bye, and I slipped out of the nearest ballroom door, to make myself elusive in the lobby. I snatched a glass of wine, as I passed by a waiter holding a tray of drinks, and posted myself at the bar in the lobby. The majority of the attendees had already located their table in the ballroom, including Patrick and Ryan and some were standing, casually chatting with drinks in hand, while others were already seated. I strategically chose a bar stool with a clear view into the VIP section of the ballroom. I wasn’t taking my eyes off of the Baroness for one moment tonight.

The master of ceremonies announced for everyone to take their seats, and the charity event got underway. Everything was smooth sailing so far, as I leaned my elbows on the bar, taking down the first glass of wine, in one gulp. The bartenders were busy making drinks for the waiters to carry into the people in the ballroom. There was only one other person sitting at the bar, a man in a dark suit, as the majority of the guests were attending the charity function. Soon enough, even he slipped off his stool and disappeared from the lobby, leaving me alone at the bar. I toyed with the idea of pulling out my cell phone from my dainty evening bag, to text Patrick. I was nervous and wanted to do something to kill time as I waited, but decided against it, as I didn’t want my attention taken away from the task at hand. Before too long, the dinner was being served, and I had already emptied my second glass of wine. I knew I should pace myself. Tonight was not the night to over indulge, but I needed something to steady my nerves. If our plan was going to succeed, I had to keep my focus. Timing was crucial.

I shifted restlessly on my stool, and a flutter of movement caught my attention out of the corner of my eye. The Baroness was on the move, crossing the ballroom floor straight for Patrick and Ryan’s table. I slid off my bar stool, and moved up closer to the large wooden double doors to get a better look. What is she doing now? Patrick stood up, as she greeted him with outstretched arms. He was embracing her and giving her a kiss on each cheek, European style. What the fuck? Why is he doing that? We didn’t talk about him doing that. It took every ounce of self-restraint I had, to keep from storming in there, and punching that bitches lights out, but I couldn’t jeopardize our plans, not now, not when we were so close to nailing her to the wall. I realized that Patrick was just playing up his part. Seeing Patrick without me, might lead her to believe, that he was now complying with her plan to keep me out of the picture. Whatever it was, just seeing her with Patrick, left me fuming, but for now, all I could do was reluctantly return to my perch on the bar stool, until after the speeches. This turn of events required another drink. Phew, this was going to be a long night.