The Exhibition (An Executive Decision Trilogy) (24 page)

This time it was Stacie’s turn to study Kendra. ‘You want me to hide away like a coward? You want me to give up what’s mine and run? Is that K. Ryde’s advice? Because if it is, then I want my money back.’

Kendra flinched against her seat, and for a tight moment, she said nothing. Stacie was pretty sure she was thinking about the horrid time in her life when she’d had to run away. It hadn’t been her intention to remind Kendra of that awful experience, but if the shoe fit. At last, Kendra took a deep breath and spoke. ‘No. I don’t recommend running away from what’s yours. I tried it once. It didn’t work. I just … I can’t bear the thought of you going through this alone.’

‘I’m … I’ll be all right. It’s just Harris. He won’t understand, and I … I don’t want him thinking badly of me.’ These were not words Stacie had intended to share with anyone, but they were out before she could stop them, and out in the hearing of one of Harris’ best friends.

‘Do you love him?’

The question took Stacie’s breath away. It was not a question K. Ryde would ask. Yet it was a question that, at the moment, seemed the most relevant of all questions. And the answer that only a few days ago would have come as a big surprise now seemed obvious. She nodded slowly, feeling the wonder of it flood her, feeling it reach out to her like the powerful arm of Portlandia reaching down to them in the sunlight.

‘I do. I love him, and I can’t stand the thought of hurting him, and I can’t stand the thought of him thinking less of me for what I’m about to do.’

Kendra offered her a knowing smile. ‘Well, you may love him, but you don’t know him very well or you’d know that if he’s made love to you, shared his bed with you, shared his mountain lions with you, then he knows your heart. And he’ll be angry and scared for you and he’ll rage and he’ll be hurt, but he’ll never, ever think less of you for doing what you have to do.’

In an upwelling of emotion that nearly took her breath away, Stacie grabbed Kendra’s hand. ‘I need you to tell him for me. I need you to tell him that I love him. Because …’ She wiped angrily at tears threatening.

‘Stacie, now you’re just scaring me. You need to tell him yourself. You need to make sure he knows that … Stacie? Are you all right?’

‘I’m not feeling well,’ Stacie shoved back the chair and fled to the bathroom, leaving Kendra and Stan looking on.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

The drive to the Monaco took almost no time, and now that it was all beginning, she was impatient to get to the end of it, one way or another. The worst part was knowing Harris was back at the Dungeon waiting for her, knowing how upset he’d be, how disappointed when she wasn’t there to share his bed tonight, knowing how angry and hurt he would be that she might very well be sharing Jamison’s. The thought made her stomach churn. But she pushed it back. She had known that was always a possibility, and if she had to, if that’s what it took, then she’d do it, as she had before. As she made her way through the light afternoon traffic, she remembered.

Jamison had slid into the limo next to her as they left Zoe’s funeral service for the drive to the cemetery. She didn’t even let her heart skip a beat when he reached forward to shut the privacy window, thought better of it, and left it open so the driver could hear her humiliation, could see it in the review mirror. She shed no tears, nor did she struggle when Jamison shoved a hand under her skirt and yanked aside her panties with such force that she heard the fabric rip. ‘Lift it,’ he commanded.

She obeyed. From now on, she’d have to choose her battles very carefully, and this wasn’t one worth fighting.

‘You made it harder on yourself by not coming to me when I wanted you,’ he said as he undid his fly. ‘And I’m not stupid, darling. I know you wanted me too. You made me wait, Stacie, and that made me angry. It was a foolish thing to do when you know I always get what I want in the end.’ He kneed her legs apart and shoved into her, hard. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she felt the pain of him entering her unready, and her eyes watered from the burn of flesh forced to accommodate, but it didn’t matter now. She wouldn’t fight him. Not now when she couldn’t win. He held her there for a moment, impaled like a piece of meat on a spit, his breath warm and sweet against her face, his eyes colder than the winter outside the limo. ‘I’ll fuck you now, Stacie,’ he said as he began to thrust. ‘And you’ll stand by Zoe’s grave with my come marking you as mine. Oh yes. I’ll fuck you now. And from now on, I’ll fuck you whenever I please, and I promise you, you’ll be surprised at just how many ways I’m going to fuck you.’

She let the memory slip over her like armor, as she had when it had happened, as she had when she’d prepared herself for life without Zoe, for life that Jamison controlled. She had gotten through it then. She would get through it now.

At the Monaco, one of Jamison’s bodyguards escorted her up to the room. It was the same room where he had met her before. The man showed her into the lounge, where she waited to a soundtrack of rough sex from the master bedroom. There was nothing for her to do but wait. And listen.

She knew the game. He wanted to humiliate her. He wanted her to understand that she was nothing to him and that she was completely at his mercy. He wanted her to understand that even his sexual dalliances took priority over her fear for the man she loved and for a young woman who was innocent of anything deserving his ill-treatment of her. But none of what she knew, none of what she understood, mattered. What mattered was that if she pushed the issue, it would be those she loved who suffered. What mattered was that, even as he fucked some expensive hooker, she still had a few cards left to play. So she waited, trying to filter out the grunts and whimpers that came from just behind the closed door; trying to remind herself this was a game she knew. This was nothing she hadn’t expected.

Finally, she heard the shower running. Of course he wouldn’t come to her smelling of sex. He would always come to her from a position of power. He would always come to her like a god above it all, a god toying with her as though she were an insect. Again she waited. Whoever it was he’d been with didn’t leave the room, but then that would also be beneath him. He would have paid her well to wait and stay quiet until after he was ready for her to leave. He’d called Stacie a whore once. That was the first time she thought about killing him.

‘There you are, my darling.’ He swept into the room, offering an expansive smile as though she were his oldest, dearest friend. He sat down next to her and pulled her hand to his lips. ‘I’m so sorry to keep you waiting, but –’ he nodded toward the closed bedroom door ‘– Ingrid Watson is a horny little cunt. Way more demanding that you ever were, but then perhaps that’s just the artist in her.’

In spite of the somersaulting of her stomach and the rage threatening to burst her chest at the thought of Ingrid Watson in bed with the bastard after being so badly beaten by him, she kept her voice neutral. ‘Is she ready to go? I have a cab waiting for her.’

He looked disappointed. ‘Oh come now, Stacie, why such a hurry to whisk the poor girl away from such rich surroundings, and to where – your drab little flat? Her father’s smelly cow farm? She’ll be so disappointed not to have another fuck before she goes. The girl is such a slut. She reminds me a lot of you, back in the day.’ He brushed a kiss against Stacie’s lips and she struggled hard not to flinch. ‘Of course you played the hard to get card. Perhaps it’s a sign of the times. Our dear little Ingrid didn’t even bother. She spread for me like warm butter, and all the while there’s me trying to be a gentleman. Never mind that, darling. Though she might be willing to do what you weren’t, in spite of her voracious libido, the dear girl is so young, so naïve. She hasn’t yet learned, as you and I have, how harsh life can sometimes be.’

‘You told me you’d have her ready for me. You told me I could escort her downstairs personally. You promised.’

He gave her a pout. ‘Oh all right. Ingrid, darling –’ he called over his shoulder ‘– do get dressed and come out here.’

He turned his attention back to Stacie. ‘My, dear, you look pale, even a little thin. Are you sleeping? Are you eating all right? I know you must be under so much stress right now, with the gala exhibition just around the corner and always so much to do, so much responsibility. And everything is so terribly expensive these days. But really, darling, there’s no need to worry. I’ll make sure your debts are well covered and anything you want, anything you need for the gallery, I’ll make certain you have it. Now, let me order you something to eat.’

‘I’m not hungry, Terrance.’

He held her in a tight gaze. ‘I insist.’

She found herself once again choosing her battles. ‘All right. If you want to order something, you know what I like. And I’ll eat as soon as I see Ingrid safely to the cab.’

He offered a gracious dip of his head, that effort at being modest and humble that now seemed nearly obscene, knowing him as she did. ‘As you wish.’

It was the look in his eyes that made her aware they were no longer alone. Stacie couldn’t have explained it if someone had asked, but in the shiver that chilled her, she thought of the bully boys in grade school who took pleasure in pulling wings off flies and torturing small helpless things. She turned to see that his eyes were on Ingrid.

‘My goodness, Ingrid, couldn’t you fix yourself up a bit? We have company, girl, and you look like a ragamuffin.’

Even between the bruises that were now fading to a sickening shade of green, Stacie could see the crawl of a blush. In truth, the poor girl had made an effort. The dress she was wearing was clearly new and clearly expensive. Her nails had been done and she had made an attempt at applying make-up; all things Jamison would have demanded of her. But Stacie didn’t contradict him. She remembered only too well the cost of a throwaway statement. Instead, she stood and nodded toward the bedroom door. ‘Get your bag, sweetie. I have a cab waiting outside for you.’

Once Stacie had escorted Ingrid to the taxi, she found one of Jamison’s bodyguards waiting for her at the elevator bank. He escorted her to a different suite, one considerably more upmarket than even Ingrid’s had been. Jamison was waiting for her there, and room service had already arrived. The table was set, and a pear-poached chicken breast on a bed of seasonal vegetables was served for her. He pulled the chair out and settled her into the meal she didn’t want.

He smiled happily at her as she forced the first bite down her tight throat, then he opened his arms wide. ‘I hope you like the suite, my darling. I couldn’t bear the thought of you being in the suite I’d fucked Ms. Watson in. That did seem a bit unchivalrous of me.’

‘It’s very nice, Terrance,’ she said, still careful to say just the right things, but nothing more. When she figured she had eaten enough to meet his approval, she wiped her mouth with the linen napkin and spoke. ‘Thank you for releasing Ingrid.’

His magnanimous smile drooped to a pout. ‘My darling, you make it sound like the dear girl was my prisoner. I’m really quite amazed you could get her to leave, actually. But then again, I did insist that she go. And to be honest, I was getting rather bored with her.’

‘And what about –?’

‘And what about your Mr. Walker,’ he interrupted before she could finish. ‘You want to know whether Mr. Walker will be safe.’ The hard lines of his strong jawbones tightened. He toyed with his tie, and something in the way he held her gaze sent ice up her spine. ‘Stacie darling, in the business world, we fuck our competitors all the time. It’s just a part of the job. But your fucking Mr. Walker, aside from being very unprofessional, has nothing whatsoever to do with business. Surely you know that won’t do. As long as you’re spending my money, every breath you breathe is of interest to me. Surely you haven’t forgotten the rules, Stacie.’ He offered a consenting nod. ‘Granted it’s been a while since you and I have been in … business together, but I would have thought I had impressed upon you back then the importance of following those rules.’

‘That was a part of our deal, a part of my agreeing to come to you, to stay with you – that you’d leave Harris Walker alone.’

‘And I’ll keep my word, Stacie, my love. I’ll leave him alone if you leave him alone.’

‘I told you that I would, but …’ She toyed with the remains of her chicken, then laid the fork down. ‘Harris Walker is one of my key exhibitors, and that makes him your investment too. And it means I may have to see him.’

He nodded slowly, still holding her gaze. ‘I’m aware of that fact, Stacie. But I would very strongly advise you to limit your interactions with Mr. Walker to professional only. There are –’ he paused to smooth away a nonexistent wrinkle from the leg of his trousers ‘– circumstances in which sacrifices have to be made, even in the business world, and you know me well enough, darling, to know that I can make sacrifices ruthlessly when the need arises.’ He raised a hand before she could protest. ‘Mr. Walker is the right choice for your exhibit, of course, and it would be a pity if you should have to find someone else. Therefore, I would suggest you keep that in mind. I understand your assistant – what’s her name, Jenny? I understand that she’s very competent. I see no reason, now that we’re down to the wire, why any interaction that remains to be done with Mr. Walker couldn’t be left in her quite capable hands. In fact, I must insist upon it. If you follow those simple rules, my dear, Mr. Walker has nothing whatsoever to fear from … terrorists.’

In spite of the gut wrench of not being able to see Harris, she felt an upwelling of relief at Jamison’s words that made her weak all over. But he gave her no time to linger in that relief. 

‘While you’re keeping your new, less personal relationship with Mr. Walker in mind, it seems like a good time to establish some ground rules for our renewed relationship, darling.’

Again he raised his hand before she could speak. ‘Stacie, I really do want to keep our association civil and amenable, but you have to do your part. Surely you understood that going in?’

She braced herself. ‘I’m here, aren’t I?’

‘Of course you’re here, darling, but I’m not so naïve as to believe that being here is your first choice. I have no problem with that. I don’t care about your choices, what I care about is your behavior. What I care about is you keeping the rules.’

She made no response.

‘I don’t like where you’re living,’ he said. ‘Oh, believe me, I understand and admire your efforts to save money. It’s just good business sense. But it’s beneath you, Stacie, way beneath you.’

‘I got that,’ she said. ‘That’s why I’m here. My bag’s in the trunk of the Lexus.’

‘Good. That’s good, because as you know, the impressions other people have of us are not limited to what we do during business hours. Therefore it’s essential you give a good impression in where you live, the way you dress.’ He waved a hand at her clothing. ‘Oh, there’s nothing wrong with the way you dress, my darling. That you’ve always managed to make yourself as enticing as the art you exhibit is one of your gifts. But where you live just won’t do. And money is no longer an issue for you. That being the case, I’ve rented you this suite in the Monaco, as befits your status and your position in the community. I specifically chose it for you, darling, because it’s next to mine so that I can be with you whenever I choose.’

She barely had time to shiver from the thought of him being with her whenever he chose before he continued, ‘Oh, the suite is a temporary fix. It’s only until I can find an apartment that’s suitable for you. There’s no need arguing; it’s a done deal. I’ve sent someone for the rest of your clothes. Though I hope you don’t mind, I’ve taken the liberty of picking up a few things for you just to tide you over until you’re settled in.’ He nodded to the bedroom. ‘You’ll find your closet is stocked with all you’ll need until your things arrive and you can make yourself at home. Of course, I understand you won’t have much time to think about such things until after the exhibition, so with that in mind, I did take a few liberties, as I said.’

It demanded every ounce of self-discipline to sit still and endure it, to sit still and allow him to take everything away from her and take full control of her life. But it was no surprise. She had expected it and, in the end, it didn’t matter. None of it mattered as long as Harris and her friends were all safe.

She sat feeling as though someone had just opened her vein and let all the life bleed out of her, let all that mattered drain away into nothing. But this was always the way it would be. She had known it, and she had walked into it deliberately.