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Authors: Kim Karr

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BOOK: Toxic
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I exited the elevator and ran right into the doorman. “Is Hugh picking you up or do you need a cab?” he asked.

“A cab would be great. Thanks, Sam.”

My phone rang again.

I twisted my butterfly ring round and round.

It was him again.

My stomach was jumping as I looked down at my screen in contemplation, but once more, I decided not to answer. This time he left a voice mail. I erased it without listening.

The ride home was short. I should have walked to clear my head but I had little time. Once I was back in my apartment, I didn’t have a spare moment. I showered quickly, which was good because I didn’t have much time to think that way. It was four thirty. Cocktails were at five thirty and Lily was swinging by to pick me up at five.

My closet was jammed with clothes, yet my mood was dismal and I felt like I had nothing to wear. I stood in my short robe and my most favorite necklace trying to decide on an outfit. My phone rang again and my hands fluttered to the strands of the gorgeous pearl and diamond necklace. It was a replica of the one Holly Golightly wore in
Breakfast at Tiffany’s
. My mother had a thing for Audrey Hepburn, which is where I developed my obsession for her as well.

Poppy and I did agree on a few things.

And since she had a thing for Audrey, it went without saying she had a thing for Tiffany’s. This necklace was the first piece my father had ever purchased for her. She gave it to me on my sixteenth birthday.

My phone stopped ringing and I forced my mind back to the task at hand. I pulled a number of dresses from their hangers before settling on a long jersey dress with a lace top and solid black skirt. It was simple with a round neckline but it was gathered at the waist with side and back cutouts, which gave it an edge that was perfect for the evening’s event.

As I contemplated my shoe choices, the buzzer rang. I hurried over to it, cursing to myself that Lily was early. I knew that since I wasn’t dressed, she was going to want to pick out my clothes. For some reason, she liked to dress me. It was her thing.

“Yes,” I said through the intercom.

“There’s someone here to see you, Miss St. Claire.” It was the new doorman. His name escaped me. Jack or Harry would have sent Lily up without buzzing.

“It’s all good. Thanks.”

I ran to the bathroom to brush my hair and pin it back. I wasn’t quite finished when there was a knock on the door.

“Coming,” I yelled.

Hurrying back to the door, I pulled it open with bobby pins in my teeth and my robe slightly agape.

A clearing of the throat caught my attention. That was not a sound that Lily would make.

I could feel myself start to tingle as my eyes lifted.

It was him.

Him!

My heart skipped in my chest.

There he stood, tall and imposing.

What was he doing at my door?

I fumbled to close my robe without untying the silk sash, but it was too late, he had already seen my skimpy lingerie.

He drew in a long, slow breath and on the exhale said, “Hello.”

A shiver ran down my spine as my gaze wandered from his head to his toes. He wore black. All black. A black leather jacket, black T-shirt, black jeans, and black boots.

He looked incredible.

My sex clenched at the sight before me and it took me a few minutes to remember what had happened earlier that very morning. I straightened in an effort to collect myself and when I did, I asked, “What are you doing here?”

“You wouldn’t answer my texts or my calls. So I came over. I needed to apologize for this morning and bring you this.”

He lifted his arm. It was only then I noticed my leather jacket draped over it.

With trembling fingers, I reached for it.

His hand was fast as sin and he grabbed mine before I could fully take possession of my jacket.

Electricity jolted through my veins.

“Have dinner with me tonight.”

No way. No way. No way!

“I can’t. I have plans.” I wanted to sound stern but my voice sounded like a squeak.

Damn it.

“Tomorrow then.” His tone was demanding.

“I can’t, I have to work.” That was much better.

“After work then.” It was like he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

I almost smiled at his persistency. I almost said yes. “I can’t.” I wanted to high-five myself because I might have actually succeeded in sounding bored.

But then he stepped closer.

And my pulse started to race.

He smelled so good. I couldn’t tear my eyes from him and I couldn’t stop my entire body from filling with tension. His eyes seemed to glitter with apology.

Oh God.
Did I really think that?

I was just too hyperaware of him.

He flashed me a coaxing smile and I felt every square inch of it right down to my core. “I want to explain my behavior this morning. Have dinner with me. Tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at your office at eight.”

I stared at him. It was like my body and mind were in a trance—under his spell. I couldn’t breathe.

“You owe me that much.” The words he spoke didn’t match the soft tone he had used.

I blinked and tried to come up with a response. Riddled with confusion all I could do was stare. Did either of us owe the other anything? No, I thought. Yet, I knew I couldn’t refuse him.

I was a sad, sad girl—a glutton for punishment when it came to him.

The elevator door opened with a ding and Mrs. Bardot came out with her little terrier, Coco, under her arm. “Hi, darling.”

“Hi, Mrs. Bardot,” I said back.

She scrutinized Jeremy with a gleam in her eye and Coco barked at him.

Good dog.

Jeremy nodded his head in her direction. “Good evening, Madame.”

Madame?

Her return smile was so wide, I had to roll my eyes.

Mrs. Bardot took her time walking to her apartment, but once her door closed, his eyes were back on me, pinning me, searing me, driving me out of my mind. They were hungry, lustful, full of want, full of need. Nothing like they had been that morning.

I swallowed as my heart beat faster and faster.

He transferred my coat fully to my hands. “Tomorrow then.”

I nodded and averted my eyes from his steely gaze.

He was closer now, and his breath tickled my neck.

I looked up at him. He seemed taller than I remembered. “My office is at—”

“I know where it is. You told me.”

Wariness crept over me.

He grinned at me. “You really don’t remember last night. Do you?”

I flushed, squirming. “I told you I didn’t.”

He slowly shook his head. “That’s a real shame.”

Just the very sound of his voice and I became a wet noodle all over again. I couldn’t believe it. I was unable to talk to him, stand up to him, or even look at him without having lustful thoughts. I should have told him to cut the crap. I should have told him that I knew we didn’t sleep together. But instead, I did something so much better.

“Good-bye, Jeremy,” I said, and then I stepped back and closed the door.

High five!

CHAPTER 11

New Beginnings

“It’s never happening.”

“Why not?” Lily snorted in amusement.

I pushed myself out of the bamboo chair and placed my napkin beside my plate. “I’ll be at the bar.”

She wiped tears of hysteria from the corners of her eyes. “If you change your mind, I’m sure he hasn’t taken the offer off the table.”

I shuddered at the mere thought.

He was Benji Peck and his offer had just made me feel like a prostitute. Benji Peck was the lead choreographer for the evening’s performance. Prearranged seating had him sitting beside me during dinner, which was all fine and great until after the main dish was served that is, when he outright propositioned me. The man was blunt and to the point and obviously used to getting his way. His proposition was straightforward enough. He’d take me to the wardrobe trailer to see the Sarah Burton costumes worn in the evening’s performance and let me try one on, if I agreed to blow him.

Wrong girl.

He should have extended that invitation to Lily because I had a feeling that she would have accepted.

Self-satisfaction hastened my steps toward the bar as I remembered how Benji’s jaw had dropped in shock when I answered politely, “Thank you, but no thank you.”

He excused himself to use the restroom shortly after and oddly enough, he never returned.

Oh well.

Looking around, the place astonished me. White paper lanterns hung from tree branches that were strategically placed to dapple the room with glitter. Beige linens downplayed the gleam of crystal that adorned each table surrounding the dance floor. And sparkle seemed to be everywhere.

As I waited for my wine, I studied those in attendance. Some people were here for their love of the arts, others for their love of fashion. It was an eclectic mix.

I had never really understood the elusive draw of the event but it was Lily’s favorite night of the year. Sometimes a girl dreams about wearing a stunning couture gown. Sometimes a girl dreams about wearing a radiant tutu. And sometimes that girl is a New York City Ballet dancer and she gets to live both dreams at once, wearing tutus designed by couture houses.

Lily had always wanted that dream for herself but the closest she ever got was coming here to the New York City Ballet’s Glitter Gala. I glanced back over to where she now stood. She looked radiant in her figure-hugging, shimmering gold gown. She was petite but held her stature as if she were six feet tall. There’s no doubt, she would have been a prima ballerina if things had worked out.

My dream growing up couldn’t have been more different. I dreamed of a carefree life, one that didn’t include overbearing social circles like the one I was currently observing. But my dream, like Lily’s, had long ago dissipated, and over the years, I learned to accept what my life of privilege had to offer.

Which is why, as donations were being made at the black-tie dinner reception on the promenade of the David H. Koch Theater, I felt badly that I was unable to contribute.

As I looked out at the sea of wealth, I not only started to wonder what was next if I couldn’t save TSC, but I began to worry about myself.

Sure, I had grown accustomed to the comforts of the Upper East Side—clean sidewalks, the parties, the doorman, drivers, the galas, yet there was more to it. It was the only home I’d ever known. What would my life be like if I no longer lived in this world?

Long ago, I had yearned for an out. However, somewhere along the way, comfort replaced that yearning, and fear was slowly taking the place of comfort. Not fear of losing status or material things, but fear of losing myself again.

Without my job, what would I do?

“Phoebe, there you are.”

Oh no, please no.

I slowly looked up from the glass of pinot grigio I had been staring into to see the bright red lips of the event cochair, Avery Lake. Avery had that certain drawl to her voice. You know the one, the one that sounded like Mrs. Howell from
Gilligan’s Island
. She might as well have just added the
darling
to the end of her greeting.

I really didn’t like her—I had my reasons.

She was, however, dressed in a knockout couture gown I was certain had been custom sewn for her hourglass figure. It was white satin with crystals at the neckline, the waist, and the hem. But then again, she was not only a Rockefeller, but a Von Furstenberg as well, so I’d expect no less. She also just so happened to be the current
it girl
of the social circuit.

I placed an air kiss near one cheek, then the other. “Avery, how nice to see you. It’s been so long.”

Okay, not long enough.

Avery took my hand and gave it a squeeze as she stretched her mouth in a wide smile. “Your donation this year was extremely generous.”

Confused, I didn’t know what to say. To make matters worse, I couldn’t stop staring at her deep ruby-colored lips.

“A million.” She winked. “You really outdid yourself.”

My only guess was she had the wrong person.

“And in one lump sum, that was a nice touch.”

What was going on? If I’d thought she was kidding, I didn’t any longer. She was dead serious. When I tried to respond, my voice froze.

A weird rush of relief came over me when she dropped my hand. I wanted this strange encounter to end.

But then she took a step forward. “Listen, I have to run. I just had to say thank you for your contribution in the midst of your own financial woes. Oh, and I’d love to catch up sometime.”

I bit my tongue at the underhanded catty remark in light of the precarious situation I was finding myself in.

Her dress swooshed in her rush but she didn’t fail to turn and give me a slight wave.

It took everything within me to make myself wave back in the midst of my humiliation. I was thankful at least she hadn’t noticed that I’d almost choked when I tried to say “you’re welcome.”

There I stood, in the chaos, feeling more alone than ever.

Suddenly, the violinist ceased his playing at the same time the lights grew bright and I knew the announcements were about to be made.

I stiffened. Great. More humiliation.

Yet, as soon as the room silenced, it dawned on me that Dawson must have made the donation in my name, and it must have been real, not a mistake. He was the only one besides Jamie who really understood the true bleakness of my financial situation. I had yet to tell Lily just how bad things were. Anyone around me only knew what he or she read in the papers. Dawson though, he knew it all and he also knew how much I loved to contribute to worthy causes—and the ballet was near and dear to my heart since it was my best friend’s dream, once upon a time.

Tears sprang to my eyes at his generosity and how much he cared for me. Was I acting stupid not to be with him? Would I ever find someone who loved me the way he did?

“You look beautiful.” As the words rumbled into my ear and a familiar hand gripped my waist, I felt a little flutter in my chest.

It was him.

Him.

That flutter started to radiate into an all-out thump that stretched from my head to my toes and obliterated any possibility of coherent thought.

When his fingers lazily grazed across the bare skin of my arm, my body became a flame and he was the match that lit it.

I was on fire.

I whirled around to see Jeremy McQueen in a tuxedo and my breath caught. He was utterly handsome, never mind strong and confident, and sexy as hell. No matter how badly I wanted to douse the heat between us, in that moment, I knew there was absolutely nothing I could do to stop it.

The thought that I should run raced through me, but the need to get closer overpowered that fleeting thought.

“Jeremy.” My voice was low. “What are you doing here?”

His grin was wide and devilish.

There was a time I loved to see that look on him. I knew what it meant then, but what it meant from him these days, I had no idea.

“I’m out supporting the arts, just like you,” he answered casually.

I tried to contain my shock. “But you . . . you asked me to go to dinner tonight.”

“You weren’t so tongue-tied last night,” he taunted.

All I could do was stare in astonishment.

What was his game?

When he stepped even closer, and the air practically sizzled between us, I couldn’t even speak coherently. He was magnetic and an undeniable energy buzzed between us.

I immediately forgot all about my issues.

“And I would have skipped all of this”—he reached his arms out—“to be with you.”

Oh God.

Just then Avery’s voice boomed over the microphone. “If I could have your attention, please.”

Everyone quieted and I had no choice but to turn around to face her. Jeremy stayed where he was and his hand resumed its position on my bare skin, causing me to inhale sharply.

The flame grew even hotter.

“Tonight has been a raging success thanks to all of your contributions but none greater than that of Jeremy McQueen. Jeremy has asked that I refrain from introducing him publicly. For those of you who haven’t had the pleasure of meeting him yet, Jeremy is the entrepreneurial genius behind Jet Set. And since we all know how much we like to play, his donation of five hundred Jet Set lifelong membership cards to our silent auction has been the biggest single source of funding in the history of the Glitter Gala.”

I stood there shocked. Jeremy owned Jet Set? He despised anything to do with my world—or at least he had.

Glitter started to swirl in the air of the Lincoln Center as applause rang in my ears, but Jeremy didn’t move. Instead, he chose to stay close to me.

“Although I did agree I wouldn’t introduce Jeremy, he didn’t specify that I couldn’t point him out to all of you, so if you want to meet him, just look for the man covered in glitter. Enjoy the night, everyone.”

I felt a shift in the air and just like that, Jeremy was gone. Dancers from the night’s performance had pulled him away and as they surrounded him they threw handfuls of glitter all over him.

It happened quickly, but I noticed the ballerinas didn’t miss a spot on his body. They were practically patting the glitter on him. Jealousy knotted in my belly even though I tried to will it away. He wasn’t mine. He could be touched any way and anywhere by anyone.

“Isn’t he the guy from the club last night? The one that helped James?” Emmy was standing beside me and I hadn’t even noticed.

I nodded, not really knowing to what extent he had helped Jamie.

“How well do you know him?” Emmy asked me.

I didn’t respond, but wondered where she was going with the conversation.

“Is there something going on between the two of you?” she prodded.

“No,” I said a little too quickly and more than likely not at all convincingly.

“Then you don’t mind if I . . . talk to him?”

“That’s probably not a good idea,” Lily answered for me. Where she came from, I had no idea.

Lily and Emmy had become even more estranged than Emmy and I had over the last few years. I wasn’t sure if they were too different or too much alike, but whichever, it had caused them to drift apart.

Emmy probably didn’t even realize Jeremy was the guy I had spent the summer with so long ago but even if she had, I doubt she would have cared.

Pouting a little, Emmy asked, “Why is that? He’s single. Sure, he’s taken Avery out a few times, but rumor has it, they aren’t exclusive.”

My heart sank. Jealousy bubbling inside it.

Lily glared at her. “How would you know? I thought you and Avery weren’t speaking.”

“We’re not.” She gave Lily a fake smile.

I almost rolled my eyes at their exchange. Seriously, years had passed since that summer after college graduation when Avery went after Jamie in Emmy’s absence. Since he never really chose either, I’m not sure Emmy should have looked so smug. She hadn’t really won. Avery just got tired of waiting around for him and gave up. That’s when she set her sights on Dawson.

Emmy beamed and continued gossiping. “Anyway, rumor has it she’s not happy that he’s been seen with other women and is about to dump him.”

Dump him? Were they seeing each other? Did she know I slept in his bed?

Bile rose in my throat. I thought about chugging my wine to get rid of the sour taste, but thought better of it. I had taken only a few sips and that was enough to make me feel like throwing up. And with the news Emmy was sharing, I was starting to feel even sicker.

“Well, it doesn’t sound like there’s anything going on anyway. Maybe he’s interested in someone else. Like I said, he’s probably not the kind of guy you want to get involved with,” Lily repeated. “And what about James?”

Emmy was loosening the straps that held her dress up to expose more of her cleavage. No longer the waif-thin anorexic, she had cut her hair, dyed it platinum, and gotten breast implants. She was a Marilyn Monroe carbon copy, just thinner. “James will never commit to me, you know that,” she said honestly.

It was the first time I heard her admit it. I was glad she at least knew the score. “I’m sorry.” It was all I could say.

“No worries. I think Mr. Tall, Hot, and Dangerous is just the change of pace I’m looking for. There’s something smoldering and brooding about him. You know?”

The thought of Jeremy with anyone else, especially someone I knew, felt like poison shooting through my veins. But somehow I managed to stand stoic.

Lily’s face, however, turned red and she was about to lose her cool. I placed my hand on her shoulder in a calming manner but it was too late. “How do you know anything about him?” she bit out.

With a huff, Emmy answered, “Theo told me he ran a bunch of clubs in Miami before he moved here last year and expanded Jet Set to include New York.”

Emmy and Theo, Avery’s brother, were close. And I was certain if it weren’t for the fact that Theo had his sights on Danny, she would have been happy with him.

With a bright red face, Lily just stared openmouthed at Emmy.

I felt even sicker. He’d actually been here a year and he never even tried to contact me.

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