Obsessed: Part Three (The Obsessed Series) (9 page)

"
I know that look."  Mrs. Adams pulls my chin up with her finger. "You're upset about a man."

I giggle as I squeeze her hand in mine. "You should have been a psychic."

"I could have been one." She winks. "That or a chorus girl on Broadway."

"You would have driven the men wild," I say jokingly.

She bursts into laughter almost spilling the glass of lemonade she's holding into her lap. She places it down on the table before she turns to look at me. "I'm glad you're staying here for now, dear."

I gaze past her to the foyer of my apartment. "Me too." I haven't told her about Mark's legal issues or that I may have to move out of the building at a moment's notice if his assets are seized. It's all too worrisome and complicated for her to manage.

"Have you spoken to your fellow today?"

"Not today," I reply softly. Not since he walked out a week ago after our confrontation regarding Mark. I haven't tried to text or call him and I've heard nothing from him at all. I assume he's been too wrapped up in making Mark pay for his misdeeds. That along with the restructuring of his father's company would soak up all of his time. At least that's what my heart is telling me.

"It's getting late." She glances at the vintage silver watch on her right wrist. "I need to get home."

It can't be later than four I imagine. After our lunch we had stopped here for a glass of lemonade. Spending time with Mrs. Adams on this Friday afternoon was just what I needed to boost my spirits. "I'll help you to your door."

She gossips about one of the women who lives on the floor below us as we walk the few feet to her apartment door. I assure her that I'll stay away from the widow Pennington now that I know that she's a hussy.

As she opens the last of the locks she turns back to me. "I'll see you tonight, dear."

"Tonight?" I ask softly.

Her eyes dart from my face to the wall behind me. "Tomorrow." She pats herself on the forehead. "Old brain," she chuckles.

I giggle as I help her through the door.

***

I stare at the luxurious embossed card that Jax had given me last week. It's almost seven and I'm still undecided on whether to be at the noted address in an hour. I wish I knew what he had planned when he prepared this. My eyes settle on the date. I catch my breath. Today would have been my mother's birthday. This was the day she was born.

I bolt from the bed and start searching through my still unpacked boxes of clothes. I have no idea what awaits me at this building in Soho but I know now that I need to be there. I smile as I pull a simple black cocktail dress from the second box I rummage through. I move on to one of the boxes of shoes and find a red set of heels.

I hurriedly shower, bunching my hair into a passable upswept mess and put on minimal make up. I stare at my bare neck in the mirror after applying my mascara. I rush into my bedroom opening a small wooden box on the nightstand. I carefully pull the necklace from it and sit down as I fasten it around my neck. It's back where it belongs.

I grab a clutch and toss my phone, wallet and keys into it. I stand and take one last look at myself in the full length mirror in the hall. I look tired. My hair is an absolute disaster but I'm presentable. I look hopeful and that's more than I have looked or felt in a week.

I hold tightly to the card as I take the elevator to the lobby. After stopping to greet Oliver and kiss him on the cheek I gaze past him to see a car parked at the curb. It's Leonard, Jax's driver.

"Ms. Marlow," he says as he opens the back door of the sedan for me.

I slide in silently waiting for him to take his seat behind the wheel. "Will Jax be joining us here?" I hold out the card knowing full well that Leonard already knows my destination.

"No Miss," he says curtly. "Mr. Walker is out of town I believe."

"Wait," I snap as he starts to pull the car away from the curb. My heart has dropped to my feet. Why am I going to this address if Jax isn't even in the city?

He doesn't respond as he drives the car through the maze of traffic in Manhattan.

I slink back into the seat and stare at the card in my hand again. Why would he send his driver to get me to go to a place alone? Maybe he arranged it all before last week and Leonard was just following directions. As soon as we arrive, I'll ask him to take me back home.

"We'll be there soon," he calls to me.

I stare silently at the window watching the city rush by me. If there was any question about my relationship with Jax it's been answered now. He's so busy with bringing Mark to task that he forgot to cancel these plans. I feel foolish.

The car pulls to a stop in front of a storefront. I can't make out the sign in the dim light. It's not illuminated and the banks of windows are all covered with brown craft paper. I wait patiently while Leonard walks around the car to open the door for me. I reach for his hand as I step out. My eyes search the sidewalk. It's barren save for the expected foot traffic of a Friday evening.

"Stand here." Leonard directs me by elbow to a spot not more than a few feet from the deserted store.

I search his face looking for any explanation. He's expressionless as he points towards the storefront and takes a step back.

I pull my eyes to the building, wishing I could just slip back into the car, go home and crawl into my bed.

My breath catches as the sign springs to life. Lights pop into the darkness and my heart stops when I read the script writing.
Whispers of Grace
. Grace. My mother's name.

The door bursts open and I'm overtaken with images of my father's face, my sister and her husband, Mrs. Adams. I see Madeline beyond them, and Nathan. I think I catch a glimpse of Sandra, his sister waving to me from behind the doorway.

I reach to hug my father, burying my face in his chest. "Dad," I whisper. "What…what is this?"

"Come." He pulls me close and guides me through the doorway into a beautiful space filled with jewelry cases. He leads me to one and I peer inside. Nestled beneath the sparkling lights are my pieces. My bracelets, my necklaces, rings that I designed and earrings too. I stare in astonishment. These are the pieces I've had at my apartment. I had packed them to take them to Boston.

'How?" I ask not really absorbing the scope of the space I've just entered.

"Wait until you see your studio." His words are so carefree and happy.

"My studio?" I can't comprehend what he means.

"Your studio, your store." He waves his free hand around the room. "This is all yours, princess."

I stare at the space, drinking in every nuance and detail. My eyes stall on the crystal vases filled with daisies, the business cards stacked neatly at the door and the exquisite glass table I assume are for consultations for commissioned pieces.

"You did this?" I search my father's face for answers.

"I helped with the design." He pulls his shoulders back with pride. "Jax did this."

"Jax." His name falls from my lips with a quiet sob just as my eyes settle on Brighton's expansive painting from the gallery. The painting I was standing in front of when Jax first spoke to me so long ago.

"Come this way." He pulls me towards the back of the space and opens a door that leads to a staircase. I follow him as he takes each step slowly, the arthritis in his knee making him a slower version of the vibrant man who chased me around the playground in my youth.

Just as he reaches the top step he flips on a light switch and the room is filled with warm, white light.

"This is your studio." He moves aside as I leave the last step and walk into the room. It's breathtaking. A large table is the focal point along with carts filled with supplies. I walk the perimeter of the room slowly pulling it all inside of my mind.

"I can't believe this." I hold my hand over my mouth in astonishment. I've had tears streaming down my face since I saw my father bolt out of the door onto the street. I'm finally overcome with emotion and I reach for the side of the table to balance myself.

"There's something for you." He points to an envelope in the center of the table. "I'm going back down to have some of that fancy champagne."

"Yes," I whisper.

"Take your time, princess. This night is yours."

I listen as he descends the stairs one at a time. When I hear the door close behind him I reach for the envelope. There's nothing on the front of it and its flap is hanging open. I reach inside pulling a handwritten note from it.

My beautiful Ivy,

You are the shining light of my life. I love you more than I ever thought it was possible to love someone. You hold my heart in your hands. It is yours. That is forever.

I have made mistakes. Too many mistakes. I've been thoughtless, selfish and calculating. Those are my faults. I tried so hard to guide you into my world when all along you were guiding me into your world. A world that is pure, simple and based in love.

I created this space for you. To honor your mother and to showcase your talent. It is yours. There are no strings attached. I just want you to have it. To use it to create a life for yourself. To show everyone how incredibly unique you really are.

I've given up much of what I own. I've sold my interest in Mark's company (yes, Mark's company not my father's) pending the outcome of the investigation and I'm negotiating the sale of all my other business interests.

In other words, I need a job. I've never made jewelry but I did work at a video game store for a hot minute in high school. I think that qualifies me to be, at the very least, a part time sales clerk at Whispers of Grace. I haven't included my resume because it's not relevant. If I can have the job just turn around and say, "yes."

Your
fanboy

The letter flutters to the tiled floor as I pull my breath from deep within me where it's been stalled since he walked out of my apartment last week. I stand slowly.

"Will you get me water and food when I'm working so hard I forget to eat?"

"Yes." His voice says softly from behind me.

"Will you bring me fresh daisies every week?"

"Absolutely." His voice is closer now.

"Will you get rid of that painting you hung in the showroom? It's no Da Vinci."

"I will." His voice is so close. His breath is teasing my neck.

"Yes," I whisper as I turn around just in time to feel his lips brush against mine.

Thank you for purchasing and downloading my book. I can’t even begin to put to words what it means to me. For those who also purchased Obsessed: Part One and Part Two, you are part of making my dreams come true. I’m truly humbled by your support. I mean it.

For now, that’s all from Jax and Ivy. Thank you for following their adventures with me and even at times, being my source of inspiration. I could not have done this without you. Yes, that’s right.
You.

If you want to chat with me personally, please LIKE my page on Facebook. I love connecting with all of my readers because without you, none of this would be possible.
http://www.facebook.com/authordeborahbladon

Now, for a little taste of something new… It’s time to get
EXPOSED.

He wore the tuxedo with the uncomplicated grace of a man who was comfortable in a suit. I stared at him as I walk slowly down the staircase. He was talking to Maria, his hands waving through the air as the words poured from his moist, full lips. The lips that I imagined would glide across the most intimate parts of a woman and bring her pleasure that is difficult to match. They complemented his vibrant blue eyes and rich black hair. He was striking. I stopped to watch the way his broad shoulders dipped as he leaned in closer to her. He knew how to use his body even if it was something as a seemingly insignificant as a conversation about the weather. He understood the impact he had on others. He owned it.

"Ms. Lockwood." Maria rushes over as I put the last step behind me. "I'm sorry to disturb you, but Mr. Reynolds forgot his overcoat."

I smile at her and run my hand down her shoulder. "It's fine."

"Thank you." She bows slightly and I instantly feel a pang of awkwardness. She works for my parents. I don't want her to think that she has to submit to me. "I'll finish cleaning up."

"No." I point towards the kitchen. "You'll gather your things and you'll go home for the night."

"You're sure?" she asks, her face brightening at the suggestion.

"Go," I say insistently.

"Thank you, Ma'am." A wide grin covers her face pulling on the wrinkles that are beginning to form around her eyes. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"You'll see me the day after tomorrow and it's Sadie." I correct her. "Take tomorrow to play with your grandson."

"Thank you." She turns to leave but stops herself. "Have a nice evening, Mr. Reynolds," she says. I catch her expression and I swear she's swooning over him. I can't blame her. I did it earlier for hours from afar during the benefit dinner. I couldn't keep my eyes off of him, even though he arrived on the arm of one of the most stunning and generous benefactors of my mother's charity.

"It's been a pleasure and it's Hunter." He nods as she pads off down the hallway.

"Your overcoat?" I question as I walk towards the
coat room. I wish I hadn't taken off my heels or pulled my hair into a ponytail. I had no idea he would be waltzing back into my life or my home mere moments after the party ended.

"I don't normally do this." His voice resonates. It feels as though it rushes through me. The tone is deep. It pulls desire from within me with each syllable he speaks.

"Forget your coat?" I stop in place holding the handle of the door in my grasp.

"Pretend to forget my coat so I can seduce a beautiful woman," he says smoothly.

I take in the words. Repeating each in my mind. He didn't just say what I think he said, did he?
"Excuse me?" My hand drops from the handle and bounces against the silk of my dress.

"How old are you, Ms. Lockwood?" he asked assuredly.

"I'm twenty-one." My face flushes.

He's standing next to me now. There's energy moving between us. I can feel it and sense it. It's bouncing off my body, tearing my inhibitions away from me. "Old enough then." His lips brush against my ear.