Hooked #2 (The Hooked Romance Series - Book 2) (3 page)

I gathered my things in a small cardboard box. My
photographs, my many papers. I threw all the bank statements away, knowing they
didn’t matter anymore. I hadn’t been able to pay for this beautiful space, and
now I was paying for it in emotion, in sadness. Melanie had already come and
taken her things away. I tried to imagine her there, Jackson bobbing in his
little travel crib. Her life was so different than mine; she could move on to
other things, when I had nothing.

I locked up the building about forty-five minutes
later, after saying a short, sweet goodbye to the empty space. “All the good I
could have done here,” I murmured, my head shaking back and forth. “Gone.”

I stopped to grab something to eat at the corner
deli, where I had initially met Drew. The acned boy recognized me, but we said
nothing to each other. I wanted to duck in and duck out without consequence. I
grabbed a roast beef sandwich, heaping with far too much mayonnaise, and
nibbled on it on my long walk home. The spiced meat was so
savory
in my mouth, and I rolled my head back, finally eating something that gave me
power, that gave me life, beyond the realms of macaroni and cheese and wine.

I remembered Drew was going to arrive outside my
apartment at three in the afternoon. When I got back to my place, I began
preparing for our strange, Saturday afternoon date. “Wear something tight,” he
had said, and I was prepared to follow his directions. After all, I was just a
notch in his belt. But the past few weeks with him had been eternally exciting,
rooted in something beyond my normal comprehension of life. He knew how to live
and live well. And, until he moved onto the next notch in his belt, I could fit
this bill.

I grabbed one of my leotards and brought it up over
my body. It was black, tight. I wore it over black leggings. I looked
streamlined, like an eel. I looked at my body in the mirror, the way the
breasts rose high, the way my butt looked so tight, so sleek. My cat,
positioned on the kitchen table, seemed to roll his eyes.

I was prepared for the date all too early—around
two. I stared at the balcony, at the life below my apartment, on the street, as
I prepared for his arrival. My cat rubbed up against my leg as I waited. “At
least I’ll probably get laid tonight,” I told Boomer then, rolling my fingers
up around his ear.

At three o clock, I heard it; his footsteps coming
down the hall. My heartbeat quickened in my chest. Could I really do this?
Could I go on a date with this clearly evil man, this man who was content to
talk about “fucking” me with his curly-headed friend, Marty? I roughed my
fingers around my hair, trying to look sleek, sexy. Why did I care so much?

Finally, I heard his knuckles against the door. “BAM
BAM
BAM
.” Three times.
Boomer hopped down from the table in preparation, as if he had been caught. I
walked toward the door languidly, hoping to take a bit of extra time. I pulled
open the door, my eyes soft,
my
body supple.

“Oh. Hello,” I said, as if I was surprised.

Drew stood outside, dressed in all black. His tight
turtleneck tucked up around his sleek neck, and his pants were tight, honing in
on his slim waist, his muscled stomach. I eyed his body without embarrassment.
It was like I was playing a different version of myself.

“You ready to go?” I asked him. My voice was nearly
raspy, like an old-fashioned movie starlet.

Drew nodded. He grinned at me with such confidence.
His eyes glinted. He placed his arm in front of me, ready for me to take. And I
did. “I’ve been waiting for this moment all day,” he said. He was nearly
laughing at me, I could tell; at the way I had yelled at him and his friend the
day before. But I couldn’t care less.

I flipped my hair as I shut the door behind me. I
didn’t want him to see my apartment; not yet. I didn’t want him to get any
ammunition, to make fun of my lack of wealth in any way. “So. Where are we
going?” I asked him.

“That, my darling, is a great surprise.”

“You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?” I said
sarcastically as we bounded down the steps. I noted how different this interaction
was than the previous week, when we had floated to the top of the Four Seasons
in such style and grandeur.

At the front of our apartment building, a shining
white Porsche was parked, its lights on. A crowd of a few different men, all
moaning with envy, was stationed before it. Drew parted the sea of men with
ease and opened the door for me on the passenger side. “My lady,” he said.

Trying to make a game of it, I waved my hair at the
men who looked on at us with such need. I sat in the Porsche’s front seat,
looking at them with lazy, bedroom eyes. I had never been anyone other men had
swooned at. I assumed it was the backdrop of the Porsche that created the
lasting effect. I nearly laughed with glee.

Drew sat in the seat next to me and swooped sunglasses
over his eyes. He knew the way he looked. He turned on the radio, loudly, and
cranked into gear. We were off. My heart was nearly in my throat as we passed
the sagging apartment building we both shared. My life, in that moment, was
different than I could have ever dreamed.

And yet, I had a million questions.

“Quite a performance back there,” I began.

“Yes, well. The Porsche brings out the crowd. She
does all the work.”

“It really is beautiful. You collect cars?”

“I just have this one and the Jag. I also have a
Jeep for off-roading, if I feel up to it. You like off-roading?”

“Can’t say I’ve ever been a part of it, no,” I
murmured. Who was this guy?

“Anyway. The Porsche is my favorite. The other two
are still back in New York. I haven’t moved everything back yet.” He paused.
“You know. It’s pretty bizarre that we’re stationed in the same apartment
building.”

“I wouldn’t say I’m stationed there. I’d say I’m
more—living there. That’s my home.” I turned, blinking at him. “And you told me
your home was in the Four Seasons.” I was challenging him. If we were going to
go on this date, I wanted to know all his secrets. I wanted to know who this
guy thought he was.

Drew gave me a brief wolf smile as we turned. “I
figured you’d be confused by that. You know. I spent the first week or so in
the Four Seasons. But then my friend Marty and I got this place, just for now.
He’s helping me open the business here, you see. He’s going to be a manager.
We’ve been friends for a long time—“

“But why in this dank apartment building?” I asked
him. I wasn’t ready to give up the fight.

His voice was easy, unmatched with my combative
tone. I sat upright, in a feminine way, looking at him like a tiger.

“You know. We actually bought an entire apartment
building, really close to the new bookstore. But it isn’t ready for us yet.
We’re remodeling; we’re creating our exact specifications. When it’s done,
it’ll be so much more than the fucking Four Seasons.” His eyes flashed. “You’ll
have to see it when it’s done.”

I crossed my arms over my breasts. “So. You didn’t
rent that hotel room just to impress me.”

“God, no,” Drew said, shaking his head.

“And you didn’t rent it to impress any other girl?”

Drew raised his eyebrow. “I didn’t know a jealous
side of you existed.”

My face burned. He was calling me out. I cleared my
throat, hoping to find a better topic of conversation. “So. Where is it you’re
taking me?” I noted that we were exiting the city, north and west, more toward
the airport. What was going on?

“Still a surprise, so sorry,” Drew slurred, laughing
briefly. “Say. What have you been up to the past several days, anyway? You
didn’t answer my calls, even when you didn’t know I was living in your
apartment building. I thought you’d dropped off the face of the earth.”

I thought about it; about everything that had
happened. About saying goodbye to my beautiful dance studio, to my dreams. I
pictured myself there, in the front seat of the Porsche, telling this dastardly
beautiful man about everything that had happened. And I realized, in that
moment, I couldn’t. I couldn’t come clean. “You know. I’ve been working really
hard to find a PR job. I wanted to be centered this week, during my interviews.
I couldn’t date or anything.”

“And now, that’s over?” Drew asked me.

I nodded. “At least for now.”

“When do you hear back?”

I paused before answered. “My assistant will let me
know. She takes care of everything for me.” Suddenly, I grabbed my knees,
shocked. I knew where we were.

The Porsche turned into the Bungee Birds parking
lot. Bungee Birds was a company that took you into the woods, about an hour
away from Chicago, and allowed you to bungee jump in a clearing, with the
entire beauty of the earth below you. I grabbed my heart as we entered, already
in a sort of panic mode. Bungee jumping? What kind of a date was this? My sense
of adventure was escalating; all memory of the past dismal week was falling
away. Bungee jumping. Yes.

“Have you ever done this before?” Drew asked me as
he parked the car. He grinned at me.

“You know. I haven’t.” Drew waited for my response
as I turned toward him in the car, my chest heaving with excitement. I wanted
to grab his face right then, to kiss him passionately. “I haven’t. But I’ve
always wanted to try.”

“I like that spirit in you,” Drew murmured. There
was such a sexual tension between us in that moment.

Suddenly, he popped the door open and rushed around
to the side to let me exit. I stuck my sheer, black leg out of the car and
walked, feeling model-like in the slim-fitting black clothes. We turned toward
the main office, where a woman with overalls greeted us and asked us to sign
several forms. Oh, the technicalities of living out your dreams, I thought for
a moment as I signed, signed, signed. Molly Atwood, over and over.

“I love your name,” Drew said, tapping his finger
over the paper. “It reminds me of a classic English woman.”

“With like, bad teeth and a beard?” I asked him.

He shook his head. “No. Like my grandmother, maybe.
Making tea and eating crumpets and talking about society.” He turned back
toward the woman and gave her his paper. “Thank you so much,” he murmured.

They loaded us in the large van. They told us that
normally, they had a lot more people for a Saturday’s jump. However, this
late-September day had just a hint of chill to it. “People don’t feel so daring
in the autumn months,” the overall woman called to us in the back seat.

Drew and I held hands tightly. Beneath his
confidence, I sensed a feeling of fear. I loved seeing that nuance to him, that
other side. He looked at me with bright eyes. “Are you all right?” I whispered
to him.

“I’ve done this before,” he murmured. His voice did
not sound assured.

Finally, we reached the back road that took us to
the alarmingly high station, where we were meant to bungee. I stepped out of
the large van and looked up at it, tucked there between the trees. I noted that
the clearing was large enough that you wouldn’t hit the trees, even if you spun
a bit on the rope.

“It’s quite a view from the top,” the woman told us
then, tapping us both on the back. “Wait till you see the autumn foliage.”

Drew and I eyed each other, both with secret,
interior fear. I was humming with such excitement. I hadn’t given thought to
the terrible nature of the week, to the fact that this guy next to me was just
sleeping with me for fun, without passion. I hadn’t thought about any of it. I
only focused on the true adrenaline I was about to feel; I focused only on the
top.

To reach the top platform, we had to climb a
humongous ladder. We followed the owner, a man named Everett. I focused on my
hands around the ladder, on the sheer cold of the material beneath. I heard
Drew puffing beneath me.

“You okay down there?” I asked him.

“Sure am,” he called back haughtily.

I knew, in that moment that this had all been a
test; he hadn’t really thought I would go through with it. He thought that I
was going to panic, run away. That way, I could be made to look a fool; he
would be rid of me. He would get the best of me.

But I was climbing the ladder, one rung at a time.
And I felt the excitement bubbling in me. “Don’t be too slow, Drew!” I called
to him.

He huffed below.

Finally, we reached the top. I grabbed at the side
rail, peering around us. Just as the woman had said, the fall trees were truly
beautiful. I saw hints of orange, of red, of yellow all throughout. And to the
east, I could see the bright, expansive lake and the beautiful, Windy City; my
Chicago. My heart ached for it; the marriage of nature and city.

I turned my head up, toward Drew, and watched as his
eyes turned sour and his face closed. He was fearful of the edge.

“Who wants to go first?” the man asked us. He was
chewing gum, and his accent was southern, nearly foreign.

“We can go together, correct?” I asked him blinking
slowly.

The man thought for a moment. “We have a double
set-up, yea-up,” he said. He smacked his gum.