Deceived - Part 3 Chloe's Revenge (6 page)

I jumped in the shower, pinning my hair up to keep it out of the water. I didn’t have time, nor did I have a blow dryer here, to do my hair. I added flat iron and blow dryer to my mental list of items to bring over. I found a large decorative hair clip thrown in the bottom of my purse. That would due to fasten my hair into an updo, with a couple of strands left hanging down to frame my face. While digging in my purse for the hair clip, I discovered a pair of silver heart shaped dangling earrings, the perfect accent to dress up my outfit. Slipping on my wedge sandals with the cork heels, I grabbed my purse and headed downstairs. Thank God for white sandals, they went with everything in the summer. Luck was on my side for once and I hailed a cab, as soon as I stepped out to the curb. Well, maybe it wasn't so much luck, as having an abundance of cabs in this part of town, just one of the little perks of living here in midtown Manhattan.

Upon arriving at Sparks Steakhouse, I quickly forked over the cash to the cab driver and jumped out, just in time to meet Patrick and Ryan in the lobby at the maître d's podium. I squealed a high-pitched, “good to see you back” hello, to Ryan and gave Patrick a peck on the lips, always glad to see his handsome face, smiling at me. He slipped his arm around my waist and murmured in my ear, “You look beautiful as usual, baby.”

I was excited to see Ryan again and had a million questions for him, but before I had time to say a word, we were escorted into the dining room area. After being seated at a table covered with a white linen tablecloth that hung nearly to the floor, I finally had a moment to breathe in all my rush and looked around, evaluating the ambiance of the room. It was warmly lit, dark polished wood paneling everywhere, with a monstrosity of a wooden wine rack up against the wall, chocked full of dark, berry colored bottles of wine, and scenic landscape paintings covering the walls. The carpet was a deep crimson and gold tapestry print, and even more bottles of wine decorated every nook and cranny in the room. It was proper old school New York style. I could just imagine how it must have been so popular with the Gambino’s back in the day, bustling with waiters with slicked back hair. Turning my attention back to my table, I asked, “Ryan, why are you back in New York so soon? I didn’t expect you for two more weeks.”

I looked at him feeling perplexed. Patrick hadn’t mentioned any of this to me, though it actually worked out for the best since we needed Ryan here in New York to get the new company up and running.

“Too many fake people,” he said bitterly, taking a sip of his Bordeaux, the dark blood red wine sloshing against the sides of the glass, with the color matching the carpet below.

Picking up my wine glass, I swirled the wine, watching its motion rotating around inside the bell shaped curve. “I thought the gallery was a huge success and you had just launched your new artist, Marco,” I asked frowning, and shot a sidelong glance at Patrick over the rim of my wine glass.

“Oh, don’t talk to me about Marco. He’s history. You won’t believe what happened.” He took down the rest of his wine in one gulp.

I raised my eyebrows, eager to hear the gossip and exchanged a wide eyed look with Patrick.

Ryan went on, pouring himself another glass of wine before the waiter could manage to make it to our table to do his job. “Basically, I set up the whole event for him, gave him space in the gallery, basically all my attention and what do you think he did in return?”

Obviously, it was a rhetorical question and I was left with my mouth hanging open, unable to reply, when he leaned in and said, “Humiliate me, and cheat on me. That bastard! I caught him making out with some young twenty-year-old tranny.”

“Wow,” I winced, like I felt the pain of a paper cut. “I’m so sorry, Ryan. We all know Paris can have some really crazy people. It’s best for you to be back here with us, among people who care about you.” I said, patting the back of his hand with condolences.

“It’s okay. C'est la vie, I’m not going to dwell on it. I’ll only cry myself to sleep one night out of the week, until that rat bastard is purged from my heart,” he said with great drama and a wave of his hand in the air, like he was brushing away the very thought of the man. “Anyway, it’s good to be back in New York and to see you guys again.” His eyes relaxed and he smiled at us. “So, how’s life in the Big Apple treating you two?”

“Life, is fantastic my friend,” Patrick proclaimed in a hearty voice. His steel-blue eyes blazing at me with love. “I gave Chloe the files for our first client, so that task is on its way
and
she has practically moved into my penthouse.”

“What? No, no.” I sat up on the edge of my chair. “I’m just working at your penthouse and spend an occasional night there, but I’m sticking with my apartment for now and my crazy roommate, Andrea. Besides, if I have to live at your place, it needs more of a female touch. You know, pictures of cats for the walls and floral pillow cases,” I teased, knowing how men are afraid that all their guy stuff will end up in boxes dumped off at the Goodwill, once a girl moves in.

Patrick gave me a confused look, as I quickly put his worry at ease, “No, don’t worry hun, no cat pictures, but your place does scream “bachelor pad”. Ryan, you know what I mean, right?”

Ryan nodded while Patrick shook his head and made a motion with his hand, as if to wipe sweat from his brow, acting like he had just dodged a bullet. “Well, we can work on that. It sounds doable,” he chuckled.

Changing the subject, Ryan asked, “How are the proposals going? You know,” he looked more seriously at Patrick and me, “We really need Urban Revolution to be on board with us in order to get the agency well off the ground. I've already set up a couple of appointments to look at office space, so the sooner the proposals are ready, the better.”

“The proposals are coming along, but as you said this is important to get right so I’m trying out a few different ideas, you know, something more creative than the average sales pitch. I’ll have them done by the end of the week.”

“That’s great, Chloe,” Ryan said with a content smile, then turned his attention to Patrick. “So, Patrick what have you been working on?”

“Well, contrary to what I thought would happen, the Baroness has been very “hands on” with me and has me working nonstop on her projects, so I haven’t had much time to massage future clients yet. But as soon as Chloe gives me the proposals, I will schedule meetings.”

“Perfect. I’m excited. I can’t wait to be in business with my best buddy and his girl.” Ryan slapped his hand down affirmatively on the table, like a judge accentuating the verdict with a mallet.

I relaxed back into my chair with a warm fuzzy wine buzz filling my body. This was a good mix of friendship and business. Sometimes there’s bullshit that we all have to work through, we’ve all got our story, but I couldn’t complain. I was happy like a fool, taking it all in. Ah, this has got to be the good life. The waiter arrived with our aged New York steaks, charred to perfection with a nice salty crunch. The meat just melted in my mouth, as we all enjoyed the good food and good company of the evening.

~*~*~

As soon as Patrick and I stepped foot in his apartment, the affable mood of the evening dissolved into a pile of gray ashes. The thought of that Miami trip scheduled on his calendar, blew into my psyche like a dark fog licking at the corners of my mind. I threw my purse on the accent table just inside the door and flopped down on the creamy white couch, folding my arms across my chest. Patrick began shedding his uncomfortable clothes, then paused for a moment with one arm out of his dark blue suit jacket, when he saw my face.

“Baby, you look mad. What’s wrong?”

“Exactly when were you planning on telling me about Miami?” I glared at him.

“Um, well, about that... I knew you wouldn’t be happy about it, so I guess I put off saying anything but...”

“Dammit, Patrick. You know that bitch is just doing this to mess with us. She wants to keep us apart. Hell, she wants to destroy us.”

“I know, I know. And if you allow her to upset you now, well, that’s exactly her plan. She wants us to fight and be angry with each other.” He came and perched himself on the edge of the couch, keeping himself just out of striking distance. “Come on, baby, what am I supposed to do? She has me over a barrel, I just have to play along for a while longer and soon we’ll get our own clients and be rid of her for good.”

“But being quiet about it doesn't help. You have to be open and frank with me when it comes to this. I need to know that I can trust you,” I explained. Tucking my chin to my chest, I pursed my lips and pouted, thinking about what he had just said.

“You can trust me. I knew this was going to upset you, but I don’t want you to worry. There is nothing to worry about. That’s why I kept it to myself. Besides, I’m not going to be the only one from the office there in Miami with her. Jack and Pete are coming along too.” He leaned forward, tipping his head to peer into my face. I turned and unlocked my arms, squeezing my hand into a fist so tightly that I could feel my fingernails dig into the palm of my hand.

“I do trust you Patrick. I trust you with my whole heart, my whole being and my soul. But I don’t trust her, the serpent from Eden. I know what she’s capable of. She will bewitch you and try to seduce you, try to make you doubt our relationship.” I searched his beautiful blue eyes for reassurance.

“Don’t even worry about that, baby,” he said, taking my knotted hand in his, and gently unfurling my clenched fingers. “You are the only one who can bewitch me and seduce me, and I would never doubt our relationship,” he whispered. Taking my hand to his lips, he softly kissed, first my palm and then turning my hand over, he kissed the back. Without breaking his gaze, he said softly and slowly, “What we have is the most beautiful thing in the world, and I love you with all my heart.”

He stood up, pulling gently on my hand for me to follow. “Come on, baby,” he said in a low voice, “Let me show you how much you can trust me.”

Captivated by his steel blue eyes I realized that there was no retreat. His alluring gaze melted me every time. Consoled by his words, I let him take my hand as he guided me into the bedroom.

As I stood at the foot of the bed, he slowly peeled off my clothes, one article at a time, keeping his gaze trained on my eyes. Standing naked, with my bare breasts heaving, he licked his lips, and removed all of his clothes. He nodded for me to get on the bed, and I slid backwards up onto it, laying on my back, my pulse rate rising at the sight of his well-defined muscular body. Seductively, he crawled up over my body, serpentining between my legs, he kissed my inner thighs, and stomach, then paused at my breasts. I parted my lips, my breath hitching, as his moist lips, lasciviously sucked my nipples. Kissing, and licking, he squeezed my breasts, his rock hard cock desperately seeking the heaven of my warm wet slit below. His motions were frantic, begging, and wanting, as he was desperate to be inside of me, desperate to erase any traces of doubt, that I might have lingering in the abscesses of my mind. Finding his mark, his penetration was deep and fulfilling. Frantically arching, my hips rose up to meet the advances of his every thrust, as I was swept up in the coarse emotions of harbored anger. With my arms around him, I clawed at his back, digging my nails in and biting down on his shoulder, in the gritty kind of lovemaking that allows for a cathartic kind of release which comes with make up sex. His vibrant motions were stroking my clit, winding me up to the top of the curve. He was like a mad man, desperate and determined. He pushed himself up farther to so his cock would make better contact with my hot spot, pushing and directing his movements to please me. I writhed beneath him, screaming out guttural sounds, crazy with emotions, as I could feel the pull of my orgasm rising to its fractured peak. Like lightning, he pulled out and slid down, his hungry mouth seeking my sweet wetness and I was lost, crashing over the edge in seconds. With the last shudder of my release he slammed back inside of me, giving my last quivers a final signature. Pulsing, and rocking inside of me, he filled me again and again until he found his paradise and fell over me in rapture, panting into the crook of my neck.

Breathlessly, he moved off of me, giving a little huff, with the realization that we both had released a lot of pent up tension. I had been wound up tight as a drum from feelings of aggravation over the Baroness trying to keep us apart. He pushed my hair back out of my face and smiling into my eyes said, “That felt good. Whew, I didn’t realize how uptight this new business deal has been making me feel.”

“That
was
good. And you’re right. Let’s not let this stuff get to us. I’m sorry I got all pissy about your trip. I know I need to be better about over reacting, but you know, there’s nothing like make up sex.”

“Almost makes me want to fight with you every day,” he teased.

“Oh yea?” I playfully punched his bulging bicep, my fist like Silly Putty up against his hard muscles. “Take that!” He grabbed my wrist, laughing at my weak punch and we rolled around on the bed, me squealing and both of us laughing, as I tried in vain to deliver the punch again. He effortlessly held my fist at bay, pretending to tap his toe and whistle a tune, as I flailed, to no avail, against his massive strength. Still laughing, he straddled me, pinning me like a wrestler on the bed. Smiling down at me he toyed with me again, “Ha! Is that all you’ve got in you? You fight like a girl.”

I wiggled, struggling one last time against his solid build and surrendered. “Well, the good news is, I
am
a girl, so shut up and kiss me.”

Chapter 6

Amid the welcome confusion of file folders and reports, a certain fluid working pattern had established itself over the past several days, as I sat at Patrick’s desk in his home office. The abhorrent weekend of the business trip to Miami had inevitably rolled around, reminding me of just how much I wanted Patrick’s business dealings with the Baroness to end. The emptiness of the apartment crept in like a stealthy hunter, filling the room with a depressing silence. Despite my earlier effort to declare independence and making it clear for Patrick that I was not moving in, I had practically spent every night here since.