Hot Water (17 page)

He nods. “I know. You’re one-hundred percent right. My whole life is on a stage. I’m not sure I
can
just
be
. I’m not used to letting my guard down, with anyone. Fuck, I can’t even believe I’m talking to you about this.” He looks at the ceiling and laughs. “But I do know one thing. There is no getting past what Andrea and Rhys did to me.”

“And you figured that out just now?” I ask.

“Yeah. When I saw Rhys with you. Touching you. I realized that anyone who thinks a free pass is a solution is fucked in the head. A free pass is not the solution to my problem. I know what the solution to that is—I just didn’t want to accept it.”

“What’s that?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing. Look. I shouldn’t be telling you all this, I know. I’m the Iceman, after all.” He grins a little, and I smile too, surprised that he knows the nickname the rest of his company has for him. “Just . . . I felt you deserved an explanation for my abhorrent behavior. And I hope you can forgive me for what I did. For putting you in this situation.”

“Will you . . . fire Rhys?” I ask.

“No. If it was up to me, I would. But I don’t have power like that. The board would have to approve it. They won’t do that. He means too much to the company. I . . . know that will make things awkward for you at the company. I can understand if you don’t want to come back.”

I have to go back. There’s no other choice. Not going back would mean telling my mom everything. And I can’t face her with that. With her looking at me like I’m a big slacker who screwed everything up, once again. “I’ll be back.”

A small smile touches his lips. “I’m glad to hear that, Cicily. I will do my best to keep the environment . . . suitable for you.” He studies me for a long time, and I have to look away. Because all I’m thinking is that he just poured his heart out to me, told me things he probably hasn’t told anyone, even those who are supposedly closest to him. And that’s my cue to tell him my secret. To tell him and hope he doesn’t hate me forever.

Instead, I can’t say a thing. The people he loves most both betrayed him. How can I be just another one of them?

I look around. I can’t believe where I am. I’m in a hotel room, with Caden Williams. He has brought me here. In my fantasies, things would go a lot different. Instead, he gently takes my hand. “Come on.”

He guides me over to the window, overlooking the beautiful lights of the city. There are two chairs positioned there. He motions me to sit down and hands me a bottle of water. “I’d give you a Aberlour a’ bunadh, but something tells me you need this more. Trust me.”

“I am never drinking again.” I look at the ground, sheepish. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

He laughs. “It’s just water.”

“You know what I mean.”

He looks out the window for a moment, and then his eyes meet mine. “I’ve got it. You can teach me how to surf. When we’re back home.”

He wants me to teach him how to surf. That is definitely not keeping business and personal separate. I should tell him now, before this goes too far. But we’re just holding hands, and it’s late, too late for more deep conversation. My head is haze of everything that’s happened in the past few days, and my mouth wouldn’t form the right words. So I say, “As long as you can deal with the sand. Because it’s kind of everywhere.”

He strokes my hand gently. We sit there for hours, quietly watching the city lights die into the dawn.

I want this to be okay. Deep down, I know it’s not. And I’m not an expert in love, but I’m pretty sure that’s what I’m feeling for him. Maybe just the beginnings, but it’s there. And that’s definitely not okay. Because there is no way that he can know me fully, and love me, too.

Chapter Seventeen

Cicily

It turns out that while we were all on the same flight going out, going back, the executives are on a later flight. They get to sleep in, while we have to rush to get ourselves checked in for our flight by nine in the morning. The three of us look like the dead. Jacinta made an effort to wear a nice dress, but I’m wearing a tank-top and sweat-bottoms, with my hair piled on my head, and I don’t care. In the airport, while we’re waiting for our flight, Jacinta says, “So what happened to you last night?”

I don’t want to relive it, so I just smile and tell her I went back to my room early. “What did you guys do?” I ask with a wink.

“Oh. We fucked. We fucked our brains out. We didn’t sleep at all. We fucked in the taxi on the way back to the hotel, in his bed, on the couch, in the bathtub, on the sink, in the shower . . . there isn’t a place in that room that we spared. He filled every fucking orifice I have. I can barely fucking walk today.” She grins. “It was
perfect
!”

Dax is getting our breakfast order, but because she’s so loud, he, and probably half of the airport, hears. I knew she’d had a late night because her eyes are bloodshot, but I had no idea she didn’t sleep at all. He comes back, a pissed expression on his face, and throws an Au Bon Pain and a Hudson News bag at her. “You think you might want to be a little discreet?” he mutters, collapsing into the chair next to her.

She laughs and then leans over and licks the side of his face, from chin to temple. “Aw, baby, since when have I ever been discreet? And you love me anyway.”

Dax hands me my smoothie and says, “So, where
did
you go?”

I shrug. “I just got tired, so I took a cab back to the Venetian.”

Dax narrows his eyes. “Was that before or after you went up to the VIP room with Rhys Bradley?”

I raise my eyebrows.
He saw me
? I thought he was too busy sucking Jacinta’s lips. “I did that, for one drink. And then I went right home.”

Jacinta just eyes me, suspicious. “Right.”

“I swear.”

“I cry foul,” she says, wagging a finger at me. Then she looks inside the Hudson News bag and shrieks. “
Cosmo
! Baby, you do love me!”

“Regrettably.” He crosses his arms in front of himself, and pouts in a way that makes me think that they’re both the world’s most dysfunctional—and cutest—couple on earth. “You forget that you’re talking to Elena Chase’s virginal teenage daughter.”

She snorts. “Virginal.”

And then she leans over and licks
my
face.

Caden

I know what I have to do. It’s something I’ve been putting off for way too long.

When I get home, I throw my bag down in the foyer. Andrea is in the kitchen, going over the guest list. “Hi, Honey,” she coos.

Last year, when I’d gotten back from this trip, she’d given me a big hug and kiss, and despite the jet lag, I’d been inspired to make a full three-course meal for her. We’d eaten it in a leisurely way and made love, and at that point I thought my life was so damn perfect, the way I wanted the next fifty years or so to be. At that point, I’d solidified in my mind the decision to pop the question.

I didn’t know that a day before, she’d fucked my best friend on my bed.

Looking back, there was no indication what she’d done. She hadn’t been flustered, hadn’t been in a bad mood. She’d given me her million-dollar smile and I thought she was the same Andrea I’d left three days before.

Little did I know how much things had changed.

Before, I’d look at her, and I’d imagine how she’d look forty years from now, with a few more grey hairs and wrinkles, but still able to make my heart glad when I saw her. Now, I look at her, and there’s no gladness there. It’s rage . . . doubt . . . disgust. I can’t feel that for my wife. I can’t live my life with this person.

I take a deep breath. “This isn’t going to work.”

She looks up at me. Her eyes crinkle just barely . . . that’s the only hint of emotion I get from her. Because her voice is just as sure, just as calm as always. “What are we talking about?”

I point my finger between her and me. “Us.”

She studies me for a long time. There is no alarm in her face. She simply drops her pen and threads her fingers together in front of her. “You’ve thought about this a lot?”

I nod. “I have.”

“Are you sure, Caden?” she asks. “Because you need to know. If I walk out the door, I will not be coming back.”

I knew there would be a threat. There always is. It’s never said in an angry way, but I know she is dead serious. She says exactly what she means. “I understand.”

“Okay.” She slips from the stool and begins to walk back toward the bedroom. “I will compose the email to our guests. That should be sent out as soon as possible. Perhaps you can arrange to return the gifts? I’ll pack a few things for tonight and have someone come over later to take the rest of my belongings, if that’s all right with you?”

I nod.
Whatever
.

I’m struck by something Cicily had said. It’s not unlike the termination of a business partnership: quick, painless, emotionless. As if she can see what’s in my mind, Andrea appears once more in the bedroom door. “Tell me. Do you have another woman?”

I shake my head.

She nods, and disappears into the bedroom, while I go about fixing myself my dinner. A half-hour later, she appears in the doorway with her expensive luggage. I wait for her to insult me, to throw something . . . but that’s not her. That would show negative emotions. Instead, she slips the engagement ring off her finger and hands it to me, as if we were strangers. “Goodbye, Caden,” she says.

“Goodbye, Andrea,” I say.

The minute the elevator doors shut, effectively taking her away from me, I take a deep breath. Then another. And then, for the first time in a very long time, I laugh, and laugh, and laugh.

Chapter Eighteen

Cicily

Monday morning has barely begun when I’m accosted by Charlotte. “Tell me everything,” she says.

Jacinta is just coming in. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” she snaps, undoing the tie to her jacket. Adorably, Dax pokes his head up from the sea of cubicles the minute he hears her voice. He obviously has it bad.

I smile. “I think Jacinta and Dax have the juiciest news, right, Jacinta?” I ask, winking at her. Immediately, heads turn that way, taking the focus off of me. Perfect.

Jacinta shrugs, then gives me the stink-eye, leaving Dax just standing there, wondering what the heck is going on. Jacinta is normally so vocal, I’m sure Dax never thought he would have to be the one to spill the news. We all end up standing there, waiting for someone to say something.

Finally, Violet chirps up, “Well, we have news. Right, Charlotte?”

Charlotte narrows her eyes. “Not really.” She bites her lower lip, then says, “I’m kind of dating Lucas. From accounting.”

“Really?” Jacinta says. I wait for her to crack the inevitable sex joke, but she doesn’t. She simply pulls off her jacket and makes a bee-line for her cubicle.

I give Dax a look, and he shrugs. Jacinta is never one to put off the chance to gossip for work.

We have a pile of junk from the conference, so I spend much of the morning by the files with Dax, getting it all stored away. “What’s the deal with Jacinta, you think?” I whisper to him.

He shrugs. I think he is heartbroken, because the obvious insinuation is that she’s blowing him off. She didn’t even look at him when she came in this morning. But why? They’d been so into each other, only two days ago. “I guess what happened in Vegas is going to stay in Vegas,” he says.

I am standing in the aisle, hanging over the files and feeling terrible for him, when I see Rhys Bradley walking this way. Shit. Suddenly, I’m feeling terrible for me. I’d hoped Caden would have yelled at him over his behavior, told him to back off. I quickly duck my head, my body quivering, and pray that he’ll just go somewhere else.

Dax notices something’s up. He says, “Hey, you okay?” just as Rhys stops right beside me.

He snaps in my face. “Cicily. I need you.”

 I take a deep breath. “Okay. Can it wait a minute? I’ve got to file these things from the conference.”

His brow creases. “No. Come with me. Now, Cicily.”

I know I am trouble. I follow after him, down a long hallway that seems longer than ever, toward his office. His is right beside Caden’s. He smiles at his secretary and then ushers me into his office, while I silently pray that Caden will come out and save me again. When he closes the door behind me, I have no hope.

“Sit down, Cicily.” He says nicely.

I do. The second my backside brushes the chair, he leans over, putting both hands on the arms of the chair, effectively caging me inside it, and brings his face inches from mine. “Did you see the gold placard outside my office?”

I swallow. “Yes.”

“Did you see the executive desk? The executive leather chair?” He lifts his wrist. “Do you see this watch I am wearing that costs more than your mother makes in a year?”

“Yes,” I squeak out.

“What do they all mean? They mean that I am an executive at Williams. I earned this fucking position, Cicily. And what that means is that when I ask you to move, you move. When I ask you to jump, you do that, too. If I ask you to suck my dick—which I won’t, because I am strictly professional— you do that, also. I should never hear ‘no’, or ‘in a minute’ or ‘maybe later’. The only word I want to hear out of those pretty lips of yours is Yes. Can you say it?”

I can’t meet his eyes. I know there are tears in mine. I know I’m shuddering, too. I let out, in barely a whisper, “Yes.”

“What? I can’t hear you.” He tilts his ear toward me. “Say it again.”

“Yes,” I say louder, my voice cracking.

“You embarrass me in front of other people when you do that, Cicily. And I do not want to be made a fool of, you got that?” He starts patting my cheek, his fingers lingering there, stroking it. “You do that again, and you
and
your mom won’t have a job at Williams anymore. Just say yes, and make me happy. You want me happy, right?”

I nod.

“Good.” He backs up and smiles, like the past five minutes never happened. He leans over and picks at the collar of my dress, as if taking lint off of it. “Okay?”