Inferno Anthology (137 page)

One fuck turning into the next. One beautiful face replaced by another. One seemingly perfect body no different than the last.

Her words are like a mirror reflecting my actions back at me. I’ve never stopped and analyzed what I’ve been doing. I’ve been too busy enjoying the wave I’ve been riding. It’s who I am, no matter how hedonistic it may seem.

This whole exchange with Kathryn pisses me off. Calling me a boy, self-centered, and a debaser of women. It confirms why I don’t do relationships. Life is so much easier and simpler when I don’t have to answer to someone. Even if it’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.

“I think you’re wrong,” I tell her. “Those women willingly gave themselves to me. I bet they’d be more than happy to have another round, too.”

A sudden movement by the door of the office catches my attention. Maurice stands there shaking his head. Our argument probably carried beyond these four walls. Every thought he had of me before today was confirmed.

“Miss Kathryn, is everything okay? I heard you two arguing. Do you want me to make this man leave?” Maurice peers at me loathingly, and there is no mistaking the disgust in his voice. He appears to stand a little taller than I remember. It’s obvious I don’t intimidate him in the least.

“My apologies, Maurice, for invading your office and subjecting you to our disagreement,” Kathryn is quick to reply. Attempting to be the peacemaker. “Mr. Kingsley just heard some troubling news, and that’s why we needed your help.”

“As long as I know you’re all right. That’s what matters.” Maurice speaks and glances at me, not hiding the distress he feels. “What else can I do?”

“My apologies too, Maurice. And I have one more favor to ask of you.” He’s looking at me out of the corner of his eye. He’s skeptical, but he’s not rejecting my request either, so I continue. “Kathryn and I need to leave via a cab. Would you mind hailing one for us while we wait by your front door?”

Maurice eyes me speculatively. There is definitely a warning in his glare. Basically, don’t you dare fuck with her, buddy. I read the signal loud and clear.

“I will help you for Miss Kathryn’s sake.” Finished speaking to me, Maurice turns toward Kathryn with a worried look in his eye. “I hope you know what you’re doing leaving with this… this… man.”

After spitting out his last word, Maurice turns directly toward me, staring me down, squinting. “I’d rather see Miss Kathryn with a common man who loves and respects her, and treats her like she deserves. Not a rich and famous user like you. All the money in the world can’t make you worthy of her.”

I wanted to tell him Kathryn is the kind of woman no man will ever be worthy enough to have. But I keep my mouth shut. Maurice won’t believe anything I say at this point anyway. Instead, I nod his way and bow my head.

Maurice spoke his piece, and I don’t want to provoke him further. Right now all I want to do is to get the hell out of his restaurant and go back to Kathryn’s apartment. Although she may be having second thoughts about having me there, especially after our argument and Maurice’s warning. His warning being one of many.

“I understand you want to protect me, Maurice. You’re the sweetest man in the world. I want you to know that.” She hugs him and gives him a quick, chaste kiss on the cheek.

Maurice becomes putty in her hands, and I have to laugh. She says I have the disarming charm? I think it works both ways, dear Kathryn. The difference between us is knowledge and awareness. She doesn’t have a clue what she does to men, when she releases her charms unknowingly and naturally. Unlike mine, which are generally calculating and result driven.

“Since you’re father passed away so young, I feel things need to be said to this man. Believe me, your father would have agreed. I’ve never seen another man dote on his daughter like he did you. You were the apple of his eye.” Kathryn’s eyes water with the mention of her father.

Maurice hit his mark. Attacked me and upset her. I’ll be black and blue by the time we make it to the apartment, if I’m still invited. In an odd way, I feel as if he’s more a threat to me right now than Simon. He’s definitely wounding my big ego, as Kathryn called it.

However, his jabs stick to me and aren’t easily dismissed. The mention of her late father hits me strangely. Maybe it has to do with my own mother’s death. Unfortunately, I know the heartbreak surrounding such a loss. I was my mother’s world, too, even in her own death.

I can imagine her father walking into this restaurant with Kathryn. A pretty raven-haired young girl with a promising life ahead of her. From Peters’ report, I know he passed away when she would’ve been around nineteen. Not too much younger than when I lost my mother at twenty-two.

One thing is for sure, her father would be so proud of her today. Any parent would be. She’s a smart, not-to–be-tangled-with woman and her beauty stands alone.

Thankfully, I believe Maurice is done berating me for now. We start to make our way out of the office. The kitchen is busier than it was before, so no one even looks our way as we pass.

Once we enter the restaurant’s dining room, I see almost every table is full with customers. Eating, chatting, and paying us no mind. We are being ignored, which works into my game plan of laying low until the bodyguard arrives tomorrow, or until the police find Simon.

We stop at the front door and watch Maurice walk outside to the curb. Holding his hand in the air, he signals a cab to pull over and stop.

“He means well, Kingsley,” Kathryn quietly says.

“I know he does. He cares for you deeply. He overheard me talking to you, and it probably fueled all the rumors he’s heard about me.”

She turns her head to me as a serious expression spreads across her face. That look she gets when she’s about to lay it on me. So I stand straighter and square my shoulders in preparation.

“Are they rumors, Mr. Kingsley? Or the truth?”

Again, I’m left speechless after she corners me with my player reputation. I’m not used to defending what I’ve viewed as just a single guy’s carefree lifestyle.

But I can’t avoid her loaded questions: Are they rumors or the truth? Deep down, I know she has me and I can’t deny all the gossip is most likely the ugly truth. This time I don’t have a funny comeback to give her. Humor can’t help me here. Woman by woman, I’ve dug my own hole.

I’m not ready to tell her what I’m thinking, though. Being this exposed and introspective isn’t who I am or what I share with others. Since yesterday afternoon my whole world has tilted on its axis. Nothing seems right tonight, with the exception of being with her in this moment.

Maurice waves for us to come outside when a cab finally stops for him. I open the door for Kathryn and usher her onto the sidewalk. Maurice has the door open and waiting for us. Kathryn scoots in first, and I try to follow but feel a hand grabbing my arm, stopping me. It’s Maurice with one more thing to say to me. Oh great, looks like this won’t be an easy escape from him.

“Mr. Kingsley, promise this old man that you’ll be good to her.” He has a desperate look about him, like he’s begging me to answer, “yes.”

And before I can really think about the ramifications or another more appropriate response for a rakish man like me, I say, “Yes.”

The smile that appears on his face could light up Brooklyn. He’s ecstatic I’ve given him the answer he wanted, and I’m left wondering why I just agreed to his request.

Can I even live up to what I just promised? I know I have my work cut out for me. Even I’m not fool enough to think I’m good. The real Adam is far from it.

Maurice joyfully shakes my hand and thanks me for my promise. I in turn thank him for helping us tonight. For opening his office and letting us camp out there until I knew what was going on and which direction to take.

I bid him goodbye with a quick handshake and climb into the cab next to Kathryn. She’s not on the far side of the seat, out of my reach, where I expect her to be. Instead she’s in the middle, closer to me. As I settle into my seat, I find myself sitting right next to her, leg to leg. She has a knowing smile on her face. I believe I know why. She overheard my exchange with Maurice.

“Promising an old man you’ll be good. What’s gotten into you, Kingsley? Have you fallen off your high and mighty horse?” She leans her head back and laughs at her cute remarks.

“I get a distinct feeling everyone is out to get me tonight. Simon with a gun and Maurice with his words.” I sound pitiful, even to myself.

I feel her fingers weaving through mine as she presses our hands together.  There is a distinct warmth and togetherness in her simple act of reaching out to me.

“What do you say we both promise to be good to each other tonight?” Kathryn asks while curling her lips into a smile.

“I suppose I could manage to be good for at least one night. How hard can it be? But can you be good to me?” I say the last words in a way that clearly gives the word “good” a double meaning.

I feel her arm moving, and while still holding my hand she elbows me. A direct hit to the ribs.

“Damn, why did you do that?” I flinch from the pain.

“Because you’re impossible. A woman can be good to you Kingsley without having to spread her legs.”

I mutter something under my breath about strong-headed women and hope she doesn’t make out what I’m saying. There’s only so much my ribs can take for the night.

“So does the cabbie know where we’re going?” I realize I climbed in and didn’t offer directions to the driver.

“I gave him my address while you were lying to Maurice.” I stare at her in disbelief after that comment.

“Lying?”

“Oh, so it isn’t a lie, you plan on living up to that promise?” And she’s got me.

“Uncle,” I say, raising the white flag in surrender. Something I never do.

The cab ride to her building is quiet. Our driver repeatedly changes lanes and speeds down the city blocks trying to make all the green lights. Pretty much the usual fare for a cab ride, and why I’m thankful for having Eddie.

Neither one of us utters a single word. My surrender to her witty entrapment of me still hangs in the air. I’m an MIT genius for fuck’s sake, but she’s been winning all the arguments with me. Hands down kicking my ass. Who would’ve thought my mental match would be a sexy-as-hell vixen wearing red lipstick and Shalimar? Both of which are driving me crazy right now.

I’m not sure she has any idea what she has won, as I willingly gave into her. And truthfully I’m not sure, either. We are still holding hands with the promise of nothing more. Normally in this situation, I’d be looking for the next willing woman. Holding hands was great in middle school, but I have needs that want to be addressed. Yet here I sit with her. Hand in hand like we’re at a church picnic.

Additionally, the only good behavior I’ve promised a woman relates to sex. Giving her a down-and-dirty fuck, an expert tonguing to her clit, or maybe a little something kinky and naughty. Nothing good has ever happened from restraining myself sexually.

Everything appears to be upside down in my life right now. Simon has lost his fucking mind. I resemble Tom more than myself. Which is frightening as hell because Tom’s been pussy-whipped for years. I’ve even seen him carrying Lois’ purse for her, and a man toting a Chanel bag isn’t right.

Funny thing, though, I find myself enjoying every damn minute I’ve had with her. Even when we were arguing in Maurice’s office. Our anger was more like a warm-up of verbal foreplay. It’s the only glimpse I’ve had at her passion. And one thing’s for sure, this woman has it in spades. I just have to convince her to share some of it with me.

As we make our way down Fifth Avenue, I recall standing and waiting for her outside her building. I stared at the entrance and doorman for hours. Watching as scores of people came and went. I can’t believe how long I waited for her. An important conference call was delayed. Now with Simon’s situation it will likely be days before I can reschedule.

I lightly rub circles over her soft skin. I glance up and give her a smile, which she blazingly returns to me. Something happens when she does. Even though I’m a stubborn man, I have to admit what I’ve realized tonight. This woman might be worth my being good. At least I’m willing to try.

“We’re almost there,” she whispers, breaking the silence between us. The cab is sitting at a red light, but I see her building’s green awning up ahead.

“Back where we started today. I did get my wish, though. Do you want to know what it was?”

“Something tells me it doesn’t matter what I want. You’re going to tell me anyway.”

“Are you sure we haven’t met before? Maybe in another lifetime? You have an uncanny knowledge of what I’m going to say. It’s unnerving.”

“It’s the psychologist in me. Human nature. There’s really nothing new under the sun. You’re not as special as you think you are.” Her sarcastic remarks actually turn me on. I enjoy her feistiness. Maybe it’s the challenge.

“Ouch. Now back to my wish, you sharp-tongued goddess.” She laughs at my wisecrack. But I realize she’s rather talented at getting me off subject. I make a mental note of this sneaky trait of hers.

“Okay. I’ll play along. What did you wish for?” she asks with a curious look in her eyes.

“Exactly what we are about to do. An invitation to your apartment. A ride up your elevator.” I tease her by wiggling my brow at the word ride. “A peek at where you live, along with a tour of your bedroom, perhaps.” I end with my patented devilish smile.

“You mean an invitation to ruffle up my sheets,” she says, mockingly. I can’t see her face as she’s turned away from me, but I’d bet money she’s rolling her eyes.

“You have a way of crushing my hopes, don’t you?” She laughs at me again. I enjoy our teasing, although I’d enjoy her more under me on her sheets. Some habits die-hard.

We pull up to her building, and the doorman comes to the cab and opens the door for us. I pay the cabbie and exit after her. She stands close by waiting for me. I instinctively grab her hand and start to run quickly to the entrance, bringing her with me.