Unbidden Love (Book Five of the Bidden Series) (7 page)

"My stylist." Natalie's eyes went wide as she abandoned her search and looked up at a blushing Audra. "I don't always have time to shop!"

"So you have the shopping brought to you? Oh my god I am so jealous right now. Okay, I have to see this!" Natalie got up and practically pushed Audra out of the office and towards the conference room.

James poured the contents of a crystal decanter into an ice-filled glass and sipped deeply, ignoring the burning sensation the liquor created as it slid down his throat. So his father knew about his participation in the auction at The Golden Palm. Someone had to have told him, and for the life of him he could not picture that someone being Natalie. He could not even imagine them being in the same room together, let alone having any type of conversation. They were from separate worlds. Audra, on the other hand, had more access and opportunity to tell Jackson. But was she motivated to? And to what end?

He downed the last of the liquor and poured himself another glass before grabbing his phone and taking a seat at his computer. He typed in a web address by heart and waited for the page to load, only to receive a login screen first.

“Damn it,” he cursed under his breath. He scrolled through the contact list on his phone, then tapped the name he was looking for.

“Security, this is Peter.”

“Hi Peter. This is James Fitzgerald. How are you?”

“I am doing well, Mister Fitzgerald. What can I do for you, Sir?”

“I am trying to get remote access to the live security feed on the executive level. I need a username and password.”

“Um, well, Sir… I-“ the man stammered. “One moment please.” The line didn’t go completely silent, and he did not hear the dulcet tones of the phone system’s hold service. Who or what was he consulting with? Peter would not actually deny James access to his own security system?

“Mister Fitzgerald?” Peter asked, suddenly back on the line. “I will give you my login credentials. Are you ready?”

“Go ahead, Peter.” James reached for a pen and jotted down the provided information. “Thank you.” He hung up and entered the username and password into the computer. Less than ten seconds later the screen split into two sections - a thin column on the left field with thumbnails labeled with various names from the executive floor, and on the right a black screen waiting to be loaded with video.

He selected ‘J. Fitzgerald - Office’ first and watched as the feed came to life before him. There in his office was his father, gathering stacks of paper and placing them inside a leather briefcase.

Beneath the thumbnail of his office was another, labeled ‘A. Robertson - Office’. His finger hovered above the trackpad, ready to click down and select the feed. But he hesitated.

‘James, you are on leave. Focus on your family.’
His father’s words. James knew he should take the advice, shut the computer and go back to Celine to have lunch and pack up for the move. But his curiosity was too strong. And after all, Audra
was
family.

He clicked the thumbnail and watched, mesmerized as Audra’s familiar office came into full color view. His eyes searched the screen, stopping at the far left corner where two figures were seated on a couch.

Audra and Natalie. They were leaning in towards one another, looking at something in Natalie’s hand. A few inches away the office door opened and someone's head peeked through. James stabbed at the volume key on the keyboard, but the feed remained silent. He watched as Audra and Natalie stood and left the office, and James’ sight.

“Shit,” he cursed to himself again. He scrolled through the aisle of thumbnails until he found the hallway just outside their suite of offices. Natalie was leading Audra by the hand; it looked like they were heading towards the conference room. He found the corresponding feed, labeled under ‘Conf Rm A - Executive’ and loaded it.

Natalie’s jaw dropped at the sight of the lush conference room outfitted into a pop-up shop complete with designer clothes, shoes, handbags, jewelry, and a half dozen other accessories. A lanky woman dressed in head to toe black was barking orders at two college-aged girls Natalie assumed were assistants or interns.

It was like watching something out of a glossy reality show. Dana was a walking encyclopedia of fashions past, present, and future, and had hand selected a large assortment of clothing and accessories that looked quintessentially Audra.

When one of the assistants-slash-interns uncorked a bottle of champagne, Natalie went from reality show to Hollywood movie in one golden sip.

"Victoria had these overnighted specifically for you today," Dana explained as she fingered half a dozen dresses in various shades of white, black and navy. "Very classic but contemporary. And the fabric is just to die for," she swooned.

Audra zeroed in on one dress in particular - a bright pink that practically vibrated against the more solemn and stately dresses in darker hues.

"Really?" she asked through an amused smile.

“
Oh, please
try this one on!" Natalie begged as soon as she saw the garment. She was trying - and failing - to not burst with laughter. Audra Robertson in a pink dress? She grasped for her phone in her pocket in case the opportunity came to snap a quick photo.

"Actually that one isn't for Audra. It is for you." Dana arched an eyebrow in Natalie's direction.

“You are joking," Natalie breathed, suddenly sober at the thought.

Dana picked up the dress from the rack and held it up to Natalie. "I never joke about fashion," she said with a tone that conveyed she was both serious and self-aware. "T-shirt dress with blush pink double-crepe material. It is fitted, so it will look spectacular on you. Compliments of the designer."

Natalie cast a side glance at Audra, who was eyeing the same rack of clothing the pink dress came from.

"Don't look at me! I think the dress would look gorgeous on you. That color suits you."

Natalie tried to wrap her head around the fact that a world famous designer had even heard of her. It was utterly surreal. She wanted to ask why or even how, but something inside her told her to keep quiet. She reached out to touch the pink fabric, questions circling around in her mind in search of answers. It was difficult to ignore the conclusion that the most obvious question was starting to come to, that she was sent the dress because of Audra. Or rather because she was
with
Audra. No one ever gifted her free dresses when she was dating James.

"I love this," Audra mused as she held up a silk wrap coat to examine it closely. "What do you think, Gorgeous?”

Her questions momentarily forgotten, Natalie flushed at the term of endearment and slid to Audra's side to examine the coat for herself. "It is beautiful." She fingered the hem of the neckline as it dipped deep into the front of the garment.

"Obviously it needs something underneath."

"Or not,” Audra shrugged. She turned her head slightly and winked at Natalie. “Help me pick some things out. You have such great taste.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. You haven’t noticed me stealing glances at those amazing boots you’re wearing?”

“No, I noticed. I just assumed you were imagining my killer legs underneath.”

Audra bit her bottom lip as she smiled at Natalie. “I was.” She leaned in and kissed her briefly on her lips. “Let’s pick out something for you to undress me out of after dinner.”

Natalie went through individual garments alongside Audra and Dana, picking out her favorites before moving on to shoes. By the time they were browsing through two tabletops merchandised with jewelry, Natalie had the distinct impression someone was watching her. She glanced around, placing everyone in the room - Audra by her side looking at sparkling jewelry, Dana on the opposite side of the table pointing out the names of designers and karat counts, the two interns fussing with the selections they had already made. Still, it was as if someone had their eyes directly on her back.

Her phone vibrated from its place tucked into the waistband of her skirt, breaking her attention away from the eerie feeling of being watched.

“Hello?” she greeted without checking the display.

“Hey, it’s me. Did you see the itinerary I emailed you? I thought it would be nice to have you and Jackson out for brunch on Sunday morning. I have been organizing the catering all day. Even though we are arriving Friday, the truck won’t arrive with our belongings until at least Wednesday.”

Natalie was utterly confused. “Sorry, who is this?”

“Audra?” the woman asked, equally perplexed. Natalie brought the phone down from her ear to check the display, only to realize it was not her phone, but Audra’s, and it was Celine’s name sprawled across the device.

“No, this is Natalie. Just a minute.” She looked up and handed the phone to Audra. “It’s your sister.” As soon as the phone was in Audra’s possession Natalie turned and focused her attention on the colorful display of jewelry. She willed her ears to listen to anything
but
Audra’s side of the conversation, not that it was an easy task.

So, Celine and James would be moving to California that weekend. How much would things be changing then?

The wood- and leather-appointed study had become James’ sanctuary since his arrival to New York weeks ago. He often came into the room shortly after putting Frankie to bed, and poured himself a drink before lighting the fireplace and staring at it for hours from the comfort of a deep leather couch. The crackle of the flames and bite of the drink were enough to keep his thoughts trained on as little as possible. But that night, as had been the case the few nights that preceded it, his thoughts were of nothing but Natalie and Audra.

How many times in the past had he been in a room with both women together, completely clueless as to what would one day become of them? He thought they were barely even friends. In fact on multiple occasions, Natalie had confided in James that she was not entirely sure Audra was fond of Natalie even in the most polite sense; that she was intimidated by the woman. But then again, she said the same thing about him, too.

What he saw on the Fitson live security feed, however, was not two women who barely knew or did not like each other. There were the small gestures you could really only see if you were looking for them: Audra placing a hand on Natalie’s elbow as they walked around the room; Natalie watching Audra as she swiped through racks full of garments; discreet glances and smiles. He was fixated, replaying them in his mind's eye like a detective looking for clues. There was a shared intimacy between the two women that had never before existed.

He took a deep sip from his glass, draining it once more in the hope that it would somehow fill in the hollow space inside him that made his chest ache. It was not supposed to happen this way.

Natalie was supposed to be with him. They should have been engaged and planning a future together. If only Audra hadn’t shown up at
The Jacqueline
and found Natalie at the bar the night she came to see him in the weeks following her miscarriage. If only he had come downstairs first. Then none of this would have happened. Instead, his last memory of being with Natalie was the night she said she had done and was doing something unspeakable, something she could not help but do. She told him once she walked the path she was on that he would not want her anymore, that he would no longer be able to love her.

Of course, he did not believe a word of it.

’Does it not occur to you that I would love you still even if you were at your worst?’

She shook her head. ‘No. How could you love the worst version of someone?’

‘Because I love all the versions of her,’ he whispered before kissing her cheek, ‘from the best,’ he kissed her chin next, ‘to the worst.’ He kissed her lips last and lingered there a moment.

‘I guess we’ll find out.’

If he had only known that she had slept with Joe Gallo - a man he once despised but could now just barely tolerate - maybe then he would have realized that Natalie knew what she was talking about that night. She knew how much Celine cheating on him with Joe while they were married hurt, and even if he and Natalie weren’t together when it happened, her betrayal felt just as deep as Celine's. But he did not listen to her, nor was he aware of what she was capable of. He would have never made the wager - that if he could forgive her, then she would give him an answer to his proposal - otherwise.

The hole inside him echoed with the reverberations of a slowly dying heart. Where her love once filled the parts of him that had been broken by Celine, it now poisoned, bleeding into new cracks that darkened him from the inside out. How could he ever love her again?

James stood from his seat to refresh his drink and caught sight of his phone on the desk. An idea sparked inside him, and with it a quiet voice dissenting from a plan that was quickly forming. He could not change the past or what Natalie did anymore than he could fix his own mistakes, even the ones that were still with him. But he could do something else.

If you pick up that phone and make the call, you will never be able to take it back
, the quiet voice warned him. Choosing to ignore it, James set down his still-empty glass and picked up the phone.

“Well I will be damned,” a crisp London accent greeted him once the call connected. “If it isn’t my favorite customer.”

“Sorry for calling so late, Thomas.”

“It is no trouble at all, Mister Fitzgerald. What can I do for you?”

James pursed his lips thoughtfully as he considered the next words to come from his mouth. There really would be no going back if he went through with it.

“I would like you to acquire something for me. Something beautiful and rare.”

"Want to get a pressed juice when we are done?" Natalie asked as she huffed up along the trail, James at her side.

"You know I am not into that. Too trendy," James laughed. He took a long draw from the bottle of water he carried before offering it to Natalie. "Honestly, I would rather have coffee. Why buy all of that expensive organic fruit at the Farmer's Market to not use the juicer at home?"

"Probably for the same reason you go to Starbucks when we have a perfectly good - and might I add expensive - coffee maker at home?"

"I cannot make my own coffee. It never tastes the same," James defended.

"Right. It is so much better when the hot blonde who works the morning shift makes your Americano." Natalie playfully bumped her shoulder into James’ side.

James feigned ignorance. "There is a hot blonde?"

"Processed hair, incredible fake breasts, pouty lips?"

"Never noticed," James shrugged as they made their way back to their car parked along a busy residential street. "You know I prefer redheads."

Natalie glanced over her shoulder at him. "I know exactly what you prefer," she said just loud enough to be heard over the growing sound of traffic and birds in the trees. She slid into the driver's seat of the not-at-all-discreet white Bugatti Veyron and stabbed the start engine button with her finger as James climbed in beside her.

“Let’s compromise,” Natalie offered as she buckled her seatbelt. “I will make your coffee and you can press my juice.”

James leaned back into the passenger seat, a smile pursing at his lips. “Or we could forget both and just take a really long shower together.” He gently brushed his fingers across the back of Natalie’s hand as it rested atop the center console. By the time they reached home his fingers had brushed their way from Natalie’s hand to her inner thigh, grazing suggestively across the fabric of her workout pants.

“Come on,” Natalie breathed as she clutched at his hand before climbing out of the car. She was sweaty and warm both from the morning’s workout and James' touch. She needed a shower, and desperately wanted to get her hands on his body. They were laughing as they ran-walked to the master bathroom suite, hands grasping at bits of expensive workout clothes, abandoning shoes, socks and any other piece of clothing that could come off easily.

They undressed each other hastily, Natalie tugging at James' tee shirt while he slid her pants down her hips and thighs. Natalie tugged off her own top as James turned on the waterfall shower-head above them, hot water steaming instantly the moment it touched their skin.

"Come here," Natalie breathed, reaching for his hands. She tugged and stepped back simultaneously until her exposed backside met with the slick cold surface of the tiled wall. "I want to feel you inside me." She moaned with relief when James' tongue slipped between her parted lips, the taste of mint from earlier that morning still lingering.

"I bet you taste as good as you look," he said in a low voice. His lips drifted across Natalie's chin, down the column of her neck and dipped between her breasts, his large hands cupping the copious mounds of flesh. He suckled at one nipple then the other, lavishing his tongue across the piqued pink tips as sheets of water cascaded down the sloped edge. Natalie's fingers splayed across James' neck and shoulders, the tips kneading into soft skin and hard muscle as he continued his exploration of her body.

"Tell me how much you want me," he demanded, his voice low but just loud enough to be heard over the sound of running water.

Natalie's eyes fluttered open as her head craned forward to see James on his knees. His fingertips grazed up and down the smooth skin of Natalie's thighs.

"You know I do.”

"Tell me you love me," he said, the last word a murmur between Natalie's thighs as he nestled his face against her sex. Natalie parted her legs as he kissed the delicate folds in the apex of her thighs.

"I do. I love you." Natalie cried out as his velvet tongue swept inside her warmth with the skilled ease of a practiced lover. Muscles constricted and released as his tongue worked within her, every velvety stroke igniting her from within. Natalie held her breasts in her palms, squeezing the flesh through the spaces between her fingers in search of ever more sensation. Her calves threatened to burst with angry heat as the tension between her legs built.

"I love you," she whispered again, her voice hoarse with need. Her hands moved from her own breasts to the head between her legs, grabbing long strands of slippery hair. The tongue that brought her to such states of pleasure was slimmer, cooler, licking from just within the guarded depths of her sex to the crackling bud of fire nestled beneath her mound. Soft hands cupped Natalie's rear as she slid against the wet tile wall behind her, catching her. When her eyes opened again the head between her legs was not honey colored, but blonde. The woman's face was so strikingly familiar she leaped at the sight of her.

"You?!"

"Poor little Natalie!" Celine's smile was as wicked as her tone was taunting. “You are just determined to sleep with all of us, aren't you? Would you like a list of every man I have ever been with so you can sleep with them, too? Should I warn Caroline about you?"

"What the-"

Celine took Natalie's hands and forced them up against the wall, pushing them with surprising strength against the tile. Her cold blue eyes were like ice, making the hair on the back of Natalie’s neck rise.

"It must kill you to know that both men chose me over you.”

Natalie opened her eyes, paralyzed by the image of Celine and the unsettling feeling of knowing the woman could intrude on her dreams. Untangling her excessively warm body from the bedsheets, Natalie stumbled to her bedroom window and opened it dramatically, welcoming in the chilly morning air against her inflamed skin. She breathed in and exhaled out, willing the dream to go with it.

Celine’s intrusive face faded away, but James remained. In every variation of the recurring dream he was the one constant. She could not decide if that was ironic or just pathetic. Or maybe it was something else entirely? Her brain’s way of reminding her heart that there had been no closure between her and James, just their last night together before he disappeared entirely. She only assumed he knew everything; why else would he stay away for good?

He must have been wrong when he said he would love all versions of her.

Natalie took another deep breath of air and pushed it out forcefully.
Do not think about him
, she told herself, as she had every morning since he left for New York.
He has moved on, and so should I
.

The sentiment did not land quite right, or was not convincing enough. What if the dreams did not go away? Or if they kept changing? She was not sure she could handle not knowing which night her brain would choose to psychologically torment her. Maybe there was someone she could turn to for help. Someone who did not have an interest or particularly care about the outcome of her love life. Someone objective.

She sighed and felt the resolve of a new decision sink in. “Okay Quinn, We will try it your way.”