Toxic (17 page)

He was right.

“Talk to me some more. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

This time his tone wasn’t sensual. He wasn’t trying to seduce me but rather, he was trying to understand me. I lay down on my side and propped the phone on the pillow next to me as I tried to form words in my head that might explain how I was feeling.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“For what,” I whispered back.

“For pushing you when you weren’t ready. You told me that the other night. I should have listened. It’s just that I felt like we talked about everything already, I really hoped we could move past the bad stuff. I can see now, that wasn’t a good idea.”

“Right, the night I don’t remember.”

“Yeah. But I should have respected what you told me at your door. I think you were right, we can’t move forward until we discuss the past.”

“What we did was fine, more than fine. It was amazing.”

His facial expression softened. “Amazing, huh?”

The corners of my mouth lifted. “It was just my stupid reaction that ruined it.”

“It didn’t ruin it and it wasn’t stupid. It was how you were feeling. I get it.”

“No, I don’t think you do.”

Jeremy lay back on his pillow and I could see his naked chest. “Then help me understand. Tell me what’s going on in your head.”

I sighed. “I was broken after you.”

He winced this time. “Phoebe, your ex-fiancé told me about it. He was only too happy to let me know that he was the one who put you back together.”

I stared at him on the screen. “He was. But he shouldn’t have told you that. Is that what the two of you were arguing about last Saturday night?”

He nodded. “He wanted to take you home and was pissed you wouldn’t go with him. And believe it or not, I agreed with him.”

“You did? Why?”

“I thought he was the right guy for you. I didn’t see us being able to go anywhere.”

“And what? Now you do?”

“Yeah, as a matter of fact I do. And after the way your ex acted, I actually think I’m the better guy for you.”

My insides started to tremble. “And why is that?”

“Because I see something you don’t.”

I raised a brow. “Are you going to share?”

The corners of his mouth tipped up. “That you need someone like me in your life and I need someone like you in my life.”

I tilted my head, contemplating what he’d said.

“If I were your ex, I would have picked you up and carried you out of there. I would have never let someone else take you home.”

Yes, Jeremy and Dawson were very different.

“Phoebe.” His voice was low. “Talk to me. We’re face-to-face. Get it out. I can see there’s more you’re not telling me.”

I pulled my thoughts together for a moment and then spoke. “When I closed my eyes and let myself go, I felt something I hadn’t felt in so long. Since the last time I was with you actually. And I couldn’t figure out if it was real or just what I wanted to feel. I don’t know if that makes sense but it scares me.”

“Don’t be scared. It was real. Trust me, it was real. I felt it too. And when we’re finally together, I know you’ll have no doubts.”

I gave him a slight smile. “You’re awfully confident.”

“There are some things you just know. And you, Phoebe St. Claire, are one of those things. Anything else?”

I shook my head. “I think that’s enough for now.”

He chuckled. “Okay, my turn then. Since I got a small smile out of you, I have a personal question to ask you.”

Feeling slightly nervous, I piled the covers up over my head. “Go for it.”

His laugh was free and easy and it relaxed me. “Are you on the pill?”

That got my attention. I lifted my head from my cocoon. “Yes.”

I heard the bed shift and he went out of focus, then he came back on the screen. He waved a piece of paper in the air. “I went and got tested on Tuesday. I’m clean. I’m not trying to rush you, but when we are together, I don’t want any barriers between us.”

“How do you know if I’m clean?”

“Are you?”

“Yes.”

“Then there you go.”

Again, I laughed at how simple he made everything seem.

“Your turn. Anything else?”

I hesitated. “One more thing.”

“Shoot.”

“Where did you go after you disappeared that summer?”

His mouth thinned. “When I found out, well, when I found out you weren’t who you said you were . . . Hang on, let me start again. I had gone to see you that day to not only try to smooth things over but to tell you that at the last minute I had gotten that scholarship to Stanford after all. It all happened so fast and I had to be there the next day to register for classes. After I left your house, I just packed up and headed to California. Kat was the only one who knew—I wanted it that way.”

Kat.

Kit-Kat.

My blood boiled at her name.

I pushed the immaturity away.

But then my throat went tight over his entire admission and I tried to hold a new wave of tears back. When I couldn’t, I covered my eyes.

“I can’t change any of that. But I am sorry,” he said.

“I still don’t understand how you can forgive me now.”

“I already explained it.”

“Tell me again.”

“I matured. Realized everything that happens in this world doesn’t have to be blamed on someone else.”

“What do you mean?”

He tensed. “I don’t know how to explain it any more than that. If I wasn’t so closed off, you wouldn’t have had to lie.”

I drew in a breath. I hated that I had.

“When I saw you in trouble, I had to help. And then when I looked into your eyes, it all went away—all the hurt I’d been feeling was gone. Phoebe, it was as simple as that.”

“But how? I lied to you.”
I feared it would always haunt me.

“Because you knew me. You figured me out from our very first exchange. You knew I would have never even talked to you if I had known who you were. I can’t change that. Just know I’m different than I was. I don’t believe everything is black and white anymore.”

I could see that. At the same time he was still the same and the dichotomy was confusing my heart.

Jeremy continued, “I realized that what you did wasn’t important. That you were the same girl I had grown to . . .” He didn’t finish but I knew he meant to say love.

I had loved him too.

“Jeremy.” My voice was soft.

“Yeah.” His was equally soft.

“After you left, I lost myself. I lost myself in you and then I lost myself even more after you. And now I’m scared. I can’t do that again.”

He stared at the screen. “What if I want you to . . . to lose yourself in me?”

I shook my head. “I can’t be that girl ever again.”

“Jeremy, I’m home.” It was a woman’s voice.

The screen turned and went black but we were still connected. “Fuck, how about knocking,” Jeremy said.

“Sorry, I heard you talking and—”

Jeremy cut her off. “Just close the door.”

His face was back on the screen. “Give me a minute.”

“Who was that?” I asked, not about to give him a second.

“Kat.”

Kat!

Kit-Kat.

“Kat! The girl you were kissing the last time I saw you that summer? Kat, the only person you told where you were going? The girl who never liked me.”

“Phoebe, I wasn’t kissing her. I had given her a peck on the forehead to try to comfort her. Her boyfriend had broken up with her and she was upset. We were friends. We are friends. You knew that then, and now you know it again. She runs Jet Set Miami and lives at my place here in Miami. And she never disliked you.”

The air rushed from my lungs. “You live together?”

He exhaled and looked away. “No, I live in New York now. She lives in my house in Miami. The business is run from here and it was just easier if she lived here.”

I made an unintentional noise in my throat and his gaze met mine. Jealousy was rearing its head but I began to realize when it came to Jeremy, I might not always see things clearly. I was so easily driven to anger and jealousy. I had to control those emotions and part of controlling them was not getting lost in him.

His words were quiet. “There’s nothing between us. She’s like a sister to me,” he insisted.

I swallowed, trying to be so much more mature than I felt at that moment. I wanted to scratch her eyes out. But instead I bit my lip and said, “I believe you.” And I did. Or I wanted to make myself believe I did. And I was going to make myself do it. I had to for my own sanity. “Does she have a . . . boyfriend?” I asked hesitantly.

He was moving around. “To be honest, I can’t keep up with her. New guy, new girl, every time I turn around it’s someone different. It’s just who she is and I accept her for it.”

“She’s lucky she has you.”

He was dressed when he looked at me again.

“Jeremy?”

“Yeah.” His voice rumbled through the line.

I wanted to tell him I was lucky to have him back in my life, but I lost my nerve. I shook my head. “Nothing.”

“Well, since we are talking face-to-face and confessing, I have something I should tell you. I already told you but you probably don’t remember.”

I covered my head again.

He snorted with laughter.

I loved the sound of his laugh.

“Go ahead,” I murmured from the under the sheet, but then pulled it back.

He shook his head at my antics, then grew serious. “I saw you a few times in New York before the night you came home with me.”

I shivered. I’d felt like someone’s eyes were on me at times, I just couldn’t explain it. It made sense though. He’d been in New York for over a year and I had been out with Danny a number of times to Jet Set locations. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?” I asked.

“I just didn’t think we had anything to say to each other. But then I saw that douche bag harassing you and I had to put an end to it. After that, I didn’t want to stay away from you.”

Groaning, I sat up. “Hmmm . . . So now you’re telling me I owe Lars Jefferson one.”

He scowled. “You don’t owe him shit.”

If only he knew.

“Jeremy.”

“Yeah.” His voice was sleepy.

“Where does this leave us?”

“You tell me,” he said in a serious tone.

I felt the resolve leak out of me. I was diving in whether I should or not. “If we’re going to try this again, then we need to take things slow this time.”

“We’ll go as fast or slow as you need to go,” he promised softly.

Feeling good about where that left us, I looked at him a little too dreamily, I’m sure. “I’m glad we ran into each other again, Jeremy McQueen.”

He made like he was kissing me again. “Get some sleep. I’ll pick you up Saturday at five.”

“Jeremy.”

“Yeah,” he answered.

“Thank you for not making a big deal out of my freak-out after we, well you know.”

His grin grew devilish. “Had amazing phone sex.”

I nodded and gave him a smile.

“Good night, Phoebe,” he said and ended the call.

The room was dark and I stared at the blank screen. While it was still alight, I thought about that conversation—I was glad we talked. I wasn’t happy he was staying with Kat, but I still felt closer to him. Then, I almost laughed out loud when I thought—Jeremy McQueen was never going to want to have phone sex with me again.

A Silly Grin

For hours, I walked around with a silly grin on my face.

I went to work with that grin on my face. I sat in meetings with that grin on my face. And I ate lunch with that same grin on my face. I even wore that stupid grin all afternoon.

A weight had been lifted off my shoulders—I was going to agree to his terms. I was going to say yes to giving us a second chance. I didn’t want to define what that meant. I wanted to take things slow. I wanted to do things differently than we had done the first time. We had jumped in back then; this time I wanted to wade in. I had decided to tell him at the video launch party.

My office phone rang shortly after five.

I thought it might be Jeremy, so I reached to answer it. I hadn’t talked to him all day, but I knew he was flying back. I hadn’t asked him when and I hadn’t really thought that much about it. I had, however, been thinking about his mouth. How I wanted it on me. The sounds that came from it. The words he spoke. The erotic tone his voice took on when he whispered his sexual desires into the phone.

I also couldn’t stop thinking about how hard he made me come the night before. I wanted him to do that again—in the flesh.

My mind was not where it should have been while at work.

My phone rang again and I realized I hadn’t picked it up. “Phoebe St. Claire,” I answered.

“Are you sure?” His voice oozed sarcasm.

“Hi, Jamie.”

“Don’t
Hi, Jamie
me. Where the fuck have you been?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve called and texted you for two days and you haven’t returned a single one. I was just about to call your mother.”

The threat of Poppy St. Claire meant he was serious.

“Oh God, I’m doing it,” I admitted. I hadn’t even told Jeremy yes and I was losing myself in him.

“Doing what?”

“Losing myself in Jeremy.”

“Okay, whoa, back up. You need to explain.”

“We’ve been talking and—”

His buzzer rang before I could tell him anything.

“Hang on.”

“Sure,” I said. While I waited, I thumbed through the blueprints of the four apartments that would soon be converted into nightclubs. My stomach started flipping.

“Look, I have to go,” Jamie huffed when he came back on the line.

“Okay, but you called me. Don’t sound so annoyed.”

“I didn’t expect you to answer.” He sighed, then said, “I’m sorry. I’m just not looking forward to tonight.”

“Oh, what do you have going on?”

“I have the Annual Rockefeller Foundation Benefit. Cocktails were at five and I’m already late. That was my mother on the other line. She’s waiting for me to go in. Anyway, tomorrow I have the annual Ashton Christmas card photo shoot and all the shit that goes along with it. How about a run in the park Sunday morning? I’ll meet you at nine.”

“Sounds perfect. Have fun promoting humanity throughout the world. You can warm your smile up there.”

“Fuck that. It’s the most boring event of the season. I’m only going because my father is a trustee and it would look bad if I didn’t represent in his absence. I’ll be home early, I’m sure.”

Charles Ashton had taken off three months ago with a younger woman and no one had heard from him since. His absence from society had been covered up from the press quite easily as he was an eccentric man with a passion for painting and known to take off on sabbaticals and pilgrimages to find inspiration. That wasn’t the truth. His paintings transpired after his binges as apologies to his wife. He was addicted to young models and often disappeared with them for months at a time. In the past he’d always returned alone. Having gotten his fix, he knew when to drop them but this was the longest he had been gone.

Jamie’s mother was a Vandermore and her social status meant everything to her, maybe even more so than my mother’s, and that was saying a lot. She allowed her husband his indiscretions as long as he kept them discreet. And so far, no one was the wiser.

“Well, I’m not so sure. I’d say try to have fun, but you always do,” I said.

“Phoebs, you know it’s all blue hairs at this one.”

Somehow I was certain he’d find a hot twenty-something.

He always did.

Jamie had some of his father’s tendencies and sometimes that worried me but he also loved to work, which gave him purpose and made him different from his father.

I laughed. “We’ll catch up Sunday. Love you.”

“Back at you,” he said and hung up.

Once I settled the phone on the cradle, I clicked my keyboard and brought up the Excel spreadsheets Hunter had put together. But all I could do was stare at the financial models on my screen. Each one showed a glimmer of hope. All were doable. All depended on a successful launch of the clubs. It was a big risk. Could this be done in such a short time frame? Would it be successful?

My worry shifted to Jeremy and me. I knew the venture could be successful, but I had to put all my energy into focusing on rebuilding the business. Would Jeremy be a distraction? I couldn’t afford any distractions.

I shook off the ill feeling that maybe I should say no to his proposal and got to work. I drafted my vision for the Saint’s reemergence into the world of luxury hotels and the international expansion I wanted to relaunch someday. I wanted to attach this to the request for investment portfolios that would be sent in just one week.

A light knock on my open door startled me. I looked up to see Dawson standing there.

“Dawson.” He never just showed up. “Is everything okay?”

Concern etched on his brow. “Can we talk?”

“Yes, sure of course.” I nodded for him to sit down.

“Not here. Can I take you out for a drink?”

My eyes searched my desk, but I had nothing pressing left to accomplish. There was still so much to do to prepare for next Friday, but I’d done all I could until the construction bids came back on Monday. I glanced at my watch. It was almost seven. Where had the time gone? I smiled at him. “Sure, it’s time I left anyway.”

I slipped on my shoes that I had taken off after lunch and stood, flattening my dress as I did.

“You look really nice today,” Dawson complimented me.

“Thank you,” I said as I grabbed my red leather swing coat and purse. I had worn a short body-hugging sweater dress to work that I normally would have reserved for a casual evening out. My hose were a floral fishnet. My shoes were snakeskin pumps. I had even snuck out before lunch for a blowout.

I was secretly hoping to see Jeremy that evening.

As I circled the desk, Dawson came toward me and placed a kiss on my cheek. I kissed him back. Then he offered his arm and I took it. I wasn’t sure if I should, but I didn’t feel right not doing it. Friends acted this way all the time. Jamie and I did, so why not Dawson and I?

He glanced over at me. “I called you Wednesday and Thursday and asked you to call me back. Is everything okay? It’s not like you to not return a call.”

“I’ve been”—I thought about the best word to use: crazy, chaotic, wanton, out of sorts, preoccupied, but settled on—“focused. I’m sorry.”

If guilt could have stamped itself on my forehead, I’d be wearing its equivalent to a scarlet letter. I hadn’t even listened to either of his messages. That was the thing with getting lost in someone; they were like a poison, making everything else around you become secondary. I was going to fix that though. This time I was aware it was happening and I wasn’t going to lose sight of everyone and everything else around me.

We walked down the quiet hallway. Last month I had let a quarter of the staff go. And everyone that was still employed had gone home already. Fridays were half days at TSC. That was the one and only benefit that remained constant through the years.

Dawson’s Mercedes S Class AMG sedan was out front when we exited the hotel. He never drove, although he had his license; he always had a driver on call.

We slid into the luxurious car and Dawson leaned forward and said to his driver, “Morimoto’s.”

I looked at him. “You said a drink?”

He gave me a smile. “I’m certain you haven’t eaten. So I thought we could get some sake and sushi. If you’d rather go someplace else that’s fine.”

He knew my weaknesses. I was hungry. And besides, it was a good opportunity to talk to him. To tell him it was finally time we both moved on. Odd, it wasn’t even a week ago that the thought of seeing him with someone else unsettled me. Now the thought only eased my mind.

I glanced at him in his wool blazer and turtleneck. He was so distinguished-looking. He might never be classified as one of my great loves, but he would always be
my
Prince of Camelot. “No, Morimoto’s sounds really good actually.”

Once we pulled into traffic, Dawson looked over at me with concern.

“What is it?” I could see trepidation in his stare.

“Your father called me.”

“Why?”

“He said you aren’t returning his calls and was worried about TSC.”

I twisted my butterfly ring. “He’s right, I’m not returning his calls. He wants to run TSC from his jail cell and he can’t do that. I already let him do that for too long. The company is in too much danger of going under to continue to allow it.”

Dawson looked even more nervous.

“Dawson, what is it?”

With resignation in his eyes, he answered, “I’ve been telling you TSC’s stock has been bought up in small blocks by a number of different companies over the past year.”

“Yes, I’m aware. Hunter has also been keeping me informed.”

“Like me, your father is worried.”

“Dawson, I appreciate the concern but Hunter is watching the market.”

“Well, it seems on Monday, even smaller blocks of stock started being sold back on the market, and it’s happened every day since.”

This was news to me. Why had Hunter not informed me? “Okay.”

“You know how it works, don’t you, Phoebe?”

Incredulously, I answered, “Yes, Dawson, I understand how the stock market works.”

He shook his head. “I mean stock dilution. You can lose control before you know it if you don’t keep a tight watch on what you’re selling and who’s buying it. I looked into what’s been going on and luckily the blocks aren’t being bought by any one entity, so I don’t think it’s an issue.”

Blinking in confusion, I tried to process what he was talking about. “We haven’t sold that much, just enough to keep operations running. And why would anyone sell TSC now? The price has declined, not increased.”

He furrowed his brows. “That’s the strange part. It’s insanity to sell now. Like whoever is doing it needs to get rid of the stock quickly or maybe they are purposefully trying to dilute the stock price to put you in a vulnerable situation.”

Aghast, I refused to believe the latter. Who would want to do that? “Maybe they just decided to unload. Take the loss for taxes?” I second-guessed.

His words were quiet. “Yes, I was thinking that as well but why so little and with such a small incremental change in value? It doesn’t make smart business sense at all. It seems more personal.”

I pushed my worry away. “They could just need the money.”

“I suppose.” He didn’t look convinced.

Concerned, I had to ask. “Are you really that worried?”

He shook his head. “No, but do you want me to look into it further? See who it is?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

His jaw twitched and I could tell he wanted to. “Okay, but if you change your mind, let me know.”

“Yes, I will. What else aren’t you telling me? Did my father say something else?”

He drew in a breath. “As a matter fact he did. He heard you’re looking for financial backing for a new project. He wanted to know what I thought. Since you hadn’t mentioned it, I couldn’t really render my opinion. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

My father had named me CEO of TSC when I was engaged to Dawson. At the time, I thought his faith in me was tremendous, but after my breakup with Dawson, I learned it had more to do with his faith in Dawson and Dawson’s ability to guide me toward the right decisions. That conversation was the last one I had with my father.

The traffic was stop and go. Horns were honking and people were everywhere. Friday nights were always crazy. I sighed and turned sideways to face Dawson. “The idea is new. I want to move quickly and need to get financial backing just as quickly.”

“I get that, but for what?”

I lifted my chin, hoping he could see my confidence. “Nightclubs; exclusive-access night clubs.”

He rolled his eyes. “Tell me it’s not him.”

I threw him a look.

“Phoebe, the hotel business is a completely different animal from that entertainment sector.”

“Dawson, I know that. It’s not the nightclubs that are going to rejuvenate the Saint Hotels; it’s their draw that will increase occupancy. Hunter ran the numbers. This can work.”

I didn’t need Dawson’s approval but I wouldn’t have minded his reassurance. Yet, even without it, I knew this plan would be successful.

It had to be.

He looked doubtful. “You really think these nightclubs will be a draw for more overnight stays?”

I slanted him a look of consternation. “Yes, I do. If marketed right, I do.”

He paused a moment. “This doesn’t have anything to do with your run-in with Jeremy McQueen last Saturday night?”

I drew in a breath. “He has agreed to consult with me on the project.”

Dawson looked upset and took a moment.

“But it was my idea.”

He took my hand. “Do you think that’s wise? Working with him.”

My phone rang. I tugged my hand away but didn’t pull my phone from my purse. “Dawson, I can separate business from personal matters. And it’s good business to gain the expertise of someone who has been successful in a very similar venture.”

“What about you? Are you interested in him on more than a business level?”

I couldn’t lie. “I am.”

“You know he’s seeing Avery Lake?”

Ice formed in my belly. His belief that,
once a cheater, always a cheater
was evident on his face. Dawson knew only what I’d told him and I hadn’t told him what I recently learned—that Kat was only Jeremy’s friend. There was nothing romantic between them. Still, his words stung and I sat up straighter. “I know he’s worked with her.”