Ignite Me (The Annihilate Me Series) (21 page)

BOOK: Ignite Me (The Annihilate Me Series)
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“It’s not that
I’m unhappy, Madison.
 
It’s just
that I’m human.
 
So I’ll just admit
it.
 
Sometimes I wish that I could
wear what you’re wearing now and look just as terrific.
 
But that’s not in the cards for me.
 
I know that.
 
And for the most part, I accept it.
 
It’s only sometimes when I wish that I’d
been born with the sort of genes you were born with.
 
Otherwise, I’m good.”

At that moment,
the buzzer rang.

“That’s him,” I
said.
 
“But I don’t want to answer
the door when you’re feeling this way.”

With an effort,
she stood, walked over to me, and gave me a kiss on each cheek.
 
“I wasn’t put on this earth to turn
heads, my dear.
 
I was put here for
other reasons.
 
And I’m grateful for
those reasons.
 
Forget about what I
just said.
 
That’s just the fat girl
in me responding to how society would rather see me.
 
And how sometimes I’d like to see
myself.
 
But I know better.
 
And I’m sorry that I even went
there.
 
So,” she said with a clap of
her hands and a smile that lit up her face. “Let your man in so I can feast my
eyes on him!”

 
 

*
 
*
 
*

 
 

When I pressed
the buzzer to unlock the building’s front door, I opened the apartment door and
listened to make sure that the damned thing worked.
 
When I heard a door open and close four
floors below us, I knew that it had, and so I gently closed the door and turned
to look at Rhoda.

“I’m scared and
thrilled at the same time,” I said.

“How about if
you just choose to be thrilled?”

“Because I’m
putting myself out there again—all of myself.
 
I like him so much, I don’t want to be
disappointed if all of this goes south.”

“Hearts win and
lose every day, my love.
 
You knew
that going into this.
 
So?
 
Remember that whatever you put out into
the universe comes back to you in the same way that you sent it out.
 
Knowing that, only put out positive
thoughts when it comes to Brock and you, OK?
 
Because that’s what you’ll get
back.
 
And then let’s see what
happens to you two going forward.
 
You never know how this will go, Madison.
 
All you can do now is just enjoy your
evening—though I get it.
 
I
understand your concerns and fears.”
 

Before Brock
could knock on the door, she came over and gave me a hug.
 
“I love you,” she said.
 
“And I pray that you will be able to let
go of any hurt that you’ve experienced in the past and open your heart with all
of the love that I know you have in it.
 
If you decide that he deserves one, give this man a proper chance.”

“You mean to
the world to me, Rhoda.”

“Right back at
you, toots.”

“I thank the
day that we met.
 
I do so more often
than you think.”

“Not really,”
she said with a wink.
 
“I pretty
much keep tabs on things like that.
 
I know how you feel, and believe me—the love is returned.”

At that moment,
a knock came at the door.

“It’s him,” I
whispered.
 

“So answer the
door,” she whispered back.
 
“Introduce me to him.
 
And
then get on with things.
 
Come
on.
 
That’s right—be
brave.
 
Answer the door.”

When I opened
it, Brock stood there looking impossibly handsome in dark jeans and a white
tucked-in button-front shirt that was opened at the throat and revealed his
tanned, slightly hairy chest.
 
He
was holding a dozen red roses, a gesture that was so unexpected, so sweet, and
so utterly romantic, I took them from him when he handed them to me and pressed
them against my nose.

“For you,” he
said.
 
“And for whatever comes
next.
 
You look stunning,
Madison.
 
Right now, I think I’m the
luckiest man in the world.”

So, the dress,
the shoes, and blowing out my hair worked!
 
Score!

“They’re
beautiful,” I said as I breathed in the flowers’ sweet scent.
 
I leaned forward and kissed him on the
lips in a way that was just chaste enough that I wouldn’t embarrass him in
front of Rhoda.
 
“Thank you!” I
said.
 
“And please come
in—it’s not much, as you no doubt saw when you first saw the
building.
 
But it’s home for now,
and I share it with my best friend Rhoda Burns.”

“I couldn’t
care less where you live, Madison,” he said as he walked into the
apartment.
 
“And I have to say that,
unlike my apartment, yours is actually cool.”

“That would be
Bessie’s doing,” Rhoda said as she took his hand and shook it.
 

“Bessie?” Brock
said.

“Yes,
Bessie.
 
Our faithful air conditioner,
who will die a cruel death next June, but we’re lucky to have her now.
 
It’s lovely to finally meet you, Brock.
 
I’ve heard so much about you.”

“It’s my
pleasure, Rhoda,” he said.
 

But Rhoda
didn’t let go of his hand.

“Why do I feel
so transfixed by you?” she said.

“I’m sorry?”

“Rhoda, let go
of his hand.”

“I’m not sure
that I can.
 
He’s captivating
me.
 
Luring me in.
 
He has a depth of power I’m not sure
that even I can overlook.”

“I already told
you that.
 
You knew what to expect.”

“Not this.
 
You know that I’ve seen nothing when it
comes to him.
 
But now—all of
that’s changed.”

Brock looked at
me, confused.

“Your hand,
Rhoda,” I said.

And at that,
she seemed to snap back into herself and let his hand go.
 

“Sorry,” she
said to Brock.
 
“My God—how
embarrassing.”

“Rhoda is a
psychic,” I said to Brock.
 
“And while
I know that probably sounds way out there for you to even comprehend right now,
trust me—she’s the real deal.”

“Really?” Brock
said.
 
“That’s kind of cool.
 
Did you just see something?
 
Because for a moment there, I thought I
saw your pupils go completely black.”

“Yeah,” Rhoda
said.
 
“About that.
 
Let’s just say that I saw a whole lot of
things.”

“Like what?” he
asked.

“Can’t say,”
she said.
 
“Madison and I have an agreement.”

“An agreement?”
Brock said.

“Yes,” I
said.
 
“I once asked Rhoda never to tell
me what my future holds, in any regard.
 
When it comes to my life, I want to earn my successes and learn from my
failures on my own.
 
That’s just how
it’s always been between us.
 
Rhoda
could tell me plenty about what I’m doing right and what I’m doing wrong, but
she honors our agreement and tells me nothing.
 
When it comes to my professional
choices, she clearly could guide me a hell of a lot better than I’ve guided
myself since I’ve been in the city, but she respects our agreement—which,
by the way, was my choice.
  
How could I ever grow as a person if I just took all of my cues from my
best friend?”

“I’m not sure
that I’d have that kind of restraint,” he said.
 
“But then I’ve never met a psychic
before.”

And with that,
Rhoda crossed her arms.
 
“You’re skeptical,”
she said teasingly.

“I’m
sorry.
 
It’s just that . . .”

“Look, I get it
all the time.
 
This will seal the
deal for you.
 
One of the things I
saw when we shook hands that neither I nor Madison could ever know is the first
kiss you shared with a young girl by the name of, uh, Diane—I think.”

“Diana,” he
said.

“I’m terrible
with names.
 
For a while there, I
thought yours was Rock.”

“Rock?” he
said.
 
“I kind of like that.
 
But you really saw me kissing Diana?”

“I did.
 
And she was a beautiful girl.
 
I think you both were about ten or
eleven when you shared that kiss.
 
It happened in Washington Square Park straight after school.
 
You had a crush on her, she had a crush
on you, and you kissed—and then everything went wrong.
 
And in case you want to know what became
of her, she’s now a doctor living in Paris.”

“She is?”

“Complete with
a husband and three kids.”

“How do you
know that?”

“I only wish I
knew,” Rhoda said.
 
“As I’ve told
Madison time and again, whatever I’ve been given is either a blessing or a
curse.
 
But, hey—at least it
earns me a living.”

“You work as a
psychic?”

“I have a
storefront on Christopher Street.
 
But enough about me.
 
I only told
you that so you wouldn’t think Madison was crazy.
 
Because she isn’t—my best friend
is a rare gift, which you’ve already figured out.
 
So!
 
Tonight is about you two.
 
Go
and have a fun, kids.
 
I’ll put the
roses in a vase filled with water for you, Madison, and, you know, I’ll see you
whenever I see you.”

“I’ll call or
text you,” I said to her.

She gave me a
kiss on the cheek after I picked up my overnight bag, which Brock quickly took
from me.
 
“Whatever you wish,” she
said.
 
“Call, text, or do nothing at
all.
 
Because it doesn’t
matter.”
 
She winked at me.
 
“The veil has dropped, kiddo.
 
And while I might be breaking a small
rule here, it’s an important one to break, if only so you know that I won’t be
worried about you.”

“What do you
mean?” I asked.

“I already know
that you’re in good hands,” she said.

 
 

CHAPTER
NINETEEN

 

“I love her
already,” Brock said as we descended the stairs.

“Eventually,
I’ll tell you everything about how we became friends, but there is one funny
thing that I’ll share with you right now.
 
When Rhoda was six, she knew the exact date when we’d meet and become
best friends.”

“How does she
know these things?”

“I have no
idea—and neither does she.
 
It
is what it is, I guess.
 
But since
we first met in person two years ago, we’ve become impossibly close.
 
I love her with all of my heart.
 
As you come to know her, I think that
your initial impression of her will only deepen.
 
She’s kind of an earth mother to me and
many other people.
 
And her business
is on the cusp of exploding.
 
I’d
say that, within a year, both of us will be out of this building and in a
better apartment.”

“Or you’ll be
living with me,” he said as we were about to exit the building.
 
“Stranger things have happened, you
know?”

I was about to
speak to that when he opened the front door and I saw a long, sleek, black
limousine waiting for us at the curb.
 
Since I knew that there was no way in hell a limousine would waiting for
anyone else in this neighborhood, I knew at once that Brock was behind it and
that he’d already spent more money than he should have.

“Brock,” I said
as we walked down the granite steps and onto the sidewalk.
 
“You didn’t have to do this.
 
We could have taken a cab.
 
This is an unnecessary expense.”

“None of this
is unnecessary,” he said.
 
“And it’s
my pleasure.”

“But how can
you afford—?”

“Look, there
are times in one’s life when money doesn’t really matter, wouldn’t you
agree?
 
For me, tonight is one of
those nights.
 
It’s our night, and I
want you to remember it for many reasons.”

“Thank you,” I
said as the driver got out of the limousine as we approached it.
 
“I certainly wasn’t expecting this.”

Brock gave my
overnight bag to the driver, who placed it in the trunk before he came around
the car and opened one of the rear doors for us.

“Ladies first,”
Brock said.
 

I got inside,
and within a moment, Brock was next to me.
 
He reached for my hand, grasped it in his own, and then leaned in for a
kiss, which I met with the same passion that he showed me.

“Would you like
some champagne?” he asked.

“Champagne?”

“I bought a
bottle for us.
 
And since this limo has
a cooler, I can guarantee you that it’s chilled.”

“I’d love a
glass.”

He leaned
forward, opened a small, hooded compartment in front of us, and pulled out a
bottle of Cristal.
 
From my fashion
magazines alone, I knew what that had cost him—an obscene amount of
money.
 
With the roses, the
limousine, and the champagne, he was clearly going out of his way to please me.
 
And I worried that I was responsible.
 
Earlier, when I’d said that tonight
needed to be a night to remember, I was just hoping that he’d choose a nice hotel.
 
I’d never expected anything like this.

“Brock, you
need to let me pay for half of this,” I said.

“Like hell you
will.”

“But this is
too much.
 
Both of us are on a
budget.”

“That’s what
credit cards are for.
 
And since I’m
working at Wenn now, that card will be paid off in no time, so don’t worry
about it because I’m not.
 
Neither
of us will be poor forever, Madison, so let’s enjoy this moment without giving
a damn about money.
 
Because you
were right this afternoon.
 
This
moment won’t ever happen between us again.
 
And when you see where I’m taking you, I don’t want to hear a word about
it.
 
I did all of this because I
think that we deserve this memory.
 
Because with you, Madison, I already know that this is just the
beginning.”

“Now you’re going
to make me cry,” I said.

“How about if
you have some champagne instead?”
 

He handed me a
glass filled with the golden, bubbling liquid, I watched as he topped off his,
and then we touched glasses.

“To tonight,”
he said.

“To tonight.”

After we
sipped, he leaned in for a kiss, which I returned with a longing that surprised
even me.

As we drove
north through the city, Brock held me close.
 
With my head on his shoulder, I rested
my hand on his hard stomach and felt his muscles through his shirt.
 
And when I did that, to say that I was
nothing short of a lighthouse sending out a beacon of lust to all of Manhattan
was an understatement.
 
I was not
only wildly turned on, but simply by the way he was behaving, I sensed in him a
true gentleman—and at least for me, also an increasingly deep connection
between us.
 

Could hearts
really collide so quickly?
 
And when
they did, what happened to them?
 
Did they become one, or did they just shatter?

With Brock, I
had to believe in the chance that they would indeed become one.

He was gently
stroking my thigh when the limousine cut off Fifth and pulled up in front of
the Plaza Hotel.

“You’re
joking?” I said as the car approached the hotel’s entrance.

“This is what
tonight deserves,” he said.
 
“And
this is where I want to make love to you, Madison—in a suite made for a
queen.
 
Because you are my queen.”

I can’t believe
he’s gone this far.

“Shall we go in?”
he said.

 
 

*
 
*
 
*

 
 

When we stepped
into the building, a sense of the hotel’s old-world luxury seemed to embrace
us.
 
We went to the elegant
reception area, Brock introduced himself to a woman behind one of the desks,
and she greeted us before she looked down at a computer and typed in his name.

“Good evening,
Mr. Wenn,” she said.
 
“You’re
affiliated with Wenn Enterprises?”

“I work there,
yes.”

“Perfect.
 
I’ll just need a credit card, and I’ll get
you on your way.”

When Brock
handed her his card, she took it from him, swiped it, and made two magnetic
keys for each of us.
 
Then, after
Brock signed a printed receipt, she told us how to get to the suite.
 
“You’re on the nineteenth floor,” she
said.
 
“Overlooking Fifth, just as
you requested.”
 
She gestured behind
us.
 
“The elevators are over
there.
 
A butler will be up with
your bags within ten minutes.”

A butler?
I
thought.
 

“That’s
perfect,” he said.
 
“Thank you.”

“Enjoy your
stay with us,” she said.
 
“And
please don’t hesitate to call if there’s anything you need.”

When we left
the elevator and found our suite, my jaw dropped when we opened the door.

“Oh, my God,” I
said when I saw what stretched before us.

Brock came up
behind me and reached for my hand as we passed a half bath to our left.
 
Beyond that was a spacious living room
furnished in the richly decorative style of Louis XV.
 
There were sweeping views of Fifth Avenue
from the living room’s wall of windows.
 
The sun had already dipped beneath Manhattan’s jagged horizon, and in
the deep-purplish glows of twilight, the city had come to life in ways that
were glittering and magnificent.
 
I
looked around the suite and saw a wet bar, a refrigerator under a marble
butler’s pantry, and pocket doors that were opened just enough to expose the
master bedroom beyond.

“It’s
exquisite,” I said to him.

“I think we
must have gotten some sort of an upgrade,” he said.
 
“Because, to be honest with you,
Madison, I didn’t request something like this.
 
But maybe the Plaza has some sort of
deal with Wenn.
 
She did ask if I
worked there, probably because of my last name.
 
But who cares?
 
This place works for me, and I hope that
it works for you.”

“Are you
serious?”
 
I kissed him hard on the
lips, which was only meant to be brief, but which nevertheless turned out to be
a lingering, breathtaking kiss that sent rivers of anticipation coursing through
my body.
 
When we parted, I ran my
fingers through his hair and saw in his eyes not only what was to come, but how
important this moment was for him.
 
It was so clear to me that he didn’t want to let me down, it was right
there on his face, and it just made me feel even more intensely for him.
 
He’d gone to so much trouble to pull
this off in such a short period of time that I knew at that moment that I was
blessed to be with him.

“Do you mind if
I have a look around?” I asked.

“Hell, I want
to look around.
 
If you saw my
apartment, you’d know that it’s not every day that I see something like this.”

The bedroom and
master bath were separated by double French doors.
 
We entered the bathroom and saw that it
was decorated with marble mosaic tile in a leaf-like pattern that seemed
inspired by Central Park.
 

The marble
vanity and bathtub appeared to have twenty-four-carat gold-plated fixtures,
which I seemed to remember reading about in one of my magazines when the hotel
underwent its infamous renovation.
 
There was a large glass shower, a sunken Jacuzzi bathtub that I planned
to use later with Brock, and a floor inlaid with striking earth-tone mosaic
tiles.
 

I noted that
the toiletries were by Caudalie, and that there were two white, plush terry
bathrobes hanging in the closet.
 
Never in my life had I seen anything like this.
 
It was perfect, and it was all because
of Brock.

I turned to
him.
 

“Thank you,” I
said.

“Like I said,
I’m pretty sure that we got an upgrade.”

“And so what if
we did?
 
Those happen at the hotel’s
discretion.
 
And lucky for us that it
happened, right?
 
It’s just
wonderful, Brock.
 
Thank you again.”

“It’s me who
should be thanking you for being with me tonight, Madison.
 
You have no idea how happy I am to have
you here.
 
To be alone with you
here.
 
I don’t know why or how this
has happened, but I’m grateful for it.”

The doorbell
rang.

“That will be
the butler with our bags,” he said.
 
“Let me get them while you get comfortable.”

 
 

*
 
*
 
*

 
 

With a clear
sense of haste, I stepped on it.

While Brock
went to deal with the butler, I closed the pocket doors that separated the
living area from the bedroom.
 
I
rushed to dim the bedroom lighting so the space would look as romantic as
possible, and then I took off my dress, folded it over a chair, and then I
stood beside the bed in nothing more than my silky red panties and bra.
 

Thinking that
it would be sexier if I left my heels on, I got onto the bed and propped myself
up against the bank of pillows with one arm behind my head, my legs crossed at
the knee, with my hair falling over my shoulders.
 

Would I look
desirable to him like this?
 
Or just
stagey and pathetic?
 
I didn’t
know.
 
It had been so long since I’d
done anything like this, I was mostly going by what I read in the romance
novels that I loved so much—which, to say the least, had taught me plenty
about sex over the past several years—and also on the many scorching,
iconic romance scenes I’d loved from my favorite movies.

If you keep
your arm over your head, you’re just going to look like your posing.
 
And if that’s the case, he’s just going
to see you as a poseur.
 
Be
yourself!

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