Wicked Steps (25 page)

“Because it was my dream.
Mine
. You are exactly like your father. You make promises—ones you’ll never keep because my life and what I want aren’t important—”

I cut her off. “Bullshit. I gave you everything, every fucking last dime. I wanted you to have the life you were promised, even if it wasn’t with me.”

Her voice got very quiet. “If that’s true, then why out us? You knew people finding out about us would destroy me so badly I wouldn’t ever recover, not from this kind of scandal. And because of what you did, I blamed people that were innocent. I fired them for no reason. I don’t know which hurts me more: the fact I’ve lost everything or knowing you did this to me.”

“My God, Elle, you haven’t lost everything. You have money and security. And right now, I know you’re upset, but you have me, now and always. Whatever is broken, we can rebuild.”

“If only anything you just said mattered. Let’s be honest. We were both broken when we met. Only I admitted it and you stayed in denial. I always knew how this would play out. I just didn’t anticipate falling in love with you, and my entire reputation burned to the ground in the process. I could never have a life with you because there is no trust. I already made that mistake with one Wick. I have no intention of repeating it.

“I’m grateful you were there for me when my health was in possible jeopardy. I truly believe you saved me. Go live your life; you have so much to offer the art world. I do love you, but I don’t like you. The thought of me giving my heart to another Wick terrified me. But evidently not enough because it happened regardless. I respect you as an artist, but I loathe you as a human being.”

I shook my head as I closed my eyes.
She loves me.
“You love me.”

“Out of everything I just said, you only heard that?” she asked in disbelief.

“We could never outrun the scandal. You do realize, at some point, you would wake up and realize I wasn’t enough? Everything about you is sexually charged, and as you get older, you’ll want someone else. To be honest, it may not be you. I may want something more than just money and great sex. I may need more than what you can give me. I’m giving you a way out.

“And just so you know, if you had waited just a while longer, I had planned to be the one to tell the world you were the man I loved. Preston and I had a plan. But patience will never be one of your virtues. Now please, leave before you’re able to change my mind. I don’t want that. I don’t want you.”

She backed away as I stepped forward, cocooning her in my arms. “Don’t make me go. Even if you hate me, I’d rather stay. We can fix this. I know it. But I can’t do it alone. I need you to fight for us.”

Her lips brushed my brow as my heart squeezed. “It wouldn’t change anything. We’d be fighting a losing battle. Us, as a couple, we were never meant to be. Think of everything we’ve gone through to get to this point. We had red flag warnings the entire time, but we chose to ignore them. The press will never leave us alone; our indiscretions will haunt us forever, even if our only crime was loving each other.”

I sensed her exhaustion as I held her. I longed for one last kiss, but it never came. She broke our embrace, then walked me to the door.

“Good-bye, Kieran. Your work is some of the finest I’ve ever seen. Be happy and content. Live your life to its fullest. As wicked as you can be, there’s a good man deep inside you. I’ll always believe that, regardless of your past. Don’t become your father. Become the man your mother would want you to be.”

As I stood at outside her front door, I stared at the dark clouds. It was an ominous-looking sky, much like my emotions. I bit my cheek to keep from sobbing loudly. The last time I really cried was at my mother’s funeral, and right now, hopelessness and despair filled my soul, as it had then. I got in the car, feeling empty inside. A hollow shell that now condemned me to a solitary life because I was a self-serving prick.

She would have eventually come with me because she’d loved me, enough to out herself when she broadcasted we were together. All I had to do was have patience. Elle had loved me, not because of wealth or fame, but because of
me
. That self-centered, conceited asshole who had a chip on his shoulder the size of the Eiffel Tower. She had gravitated toward my appearance and sexuality, but ultimately, regardless of all my inner flaws, she fell for
me
.

Swarms of paparazzi were now stationed in front of my hotel. I wiped my eyes as I used my phone to call the lobby. I decided rather than fan the flames of gossip, I would go back to Paris. I had the driver take me to LaGuardia Airport while I told the hotel where to send my bags. I wasn’t giving up on her. I was taking a hiatus. Fighting for her now was futile. The wounds were too fresh. She wanted me to become a man my mother would be proud of. I needed to become the man she would forgive. The one she would take back. If only I’d foreseen the future and realized how long that would take.

Ellery

Twenty-one Months Later…

“What time am I picking you up, girlfriend?”

My eyes widened as I saw Bo approach. “Seven thirty, and I assume you’re planning to bring that gorgeous husband of yours?” I asked.

“Are you kidding? Cliff has been modeling tuxedos for a month, trying to figure out what to wear. He’s such a diva, you know.”

“Yeah, well, then I suppose you’re a match made in heaven,” I said, winking. “Hey, hand me that last crate.”

He rolled it over to me, but it took us both to pry it open. Heavy sculptures of naked men.

“You like?” I asked with an eyebrow arched

He waved his hand around. “If you’ve seen one teeny cock, you’ve seen them all.”

I chuckled. “I assumed these were done from full-scale models.”

He and I entertained each other.

I had moved both him and Cliff to London when I decided to relocate here and open a gallery. I spent days apologizing profusely for accusing them of sharing my secret.

I gave Coco the deed to Salacity and a million dollars. She wanted to come with me, but I knew her heart was in the States, and if anyone could breathe new life into our gallery, it was her. She eagerly accepted the property, but the money freaked her out. It took me two weeks to convince her she had earned it. It was the least I could do after toppling our business because my affair went public.

It broke my heart to leave her behind, and everything we built, but if I stayed, not only would the press continue to hound me, but she would never be able to begin this new chapter of her life. She always had joked how much she enjoyed a challenge. Well, I had given her one whether I liked it or not.

Staying in New York had gotten to be too much. It was months before I could even get out of bed. The anguish of my loss broke me. Losing Kieran was too painful to deal with, so I tried to ignore it. Every time I attempted to leave the house, I was stalked. The truth was I could have shouted from the rooftops that I hadn’t known he was Hartman’s son in the beginning. That we weren’t blood related. Regardless that it was a technicality, the mainstream media and nobility didn’t give a shit.

Preston had been right; having a publicist helped. She fielded the media daily.

But after a while, I couldn’t take it anymore. Between my sorrow and the scrutiny, it became too much. I decided leaving the country would be best. I landed in London because the real estate market was plentiful and it was on my bucket list. I yearned for another gallery. I needed a project, one that fulfilled me. The money wasn’t enough. To ensure my privacy, I cut my hair and darkened it. The boys liked it because they claimed it made the color of my eyes pop.

I found a lovely spot that was perfect. I decided to expand my new gallery to include sculptures, paintings, and some local photography.
Unmasked
became a popular spot with both residents and visitors. Once I’d settled in, I decided to call Bo. I needed help, and I missed familiar faces. The truth was I was lonely. Coco and I talked all the time, but I felt isolated in a new country while trying my hand at another gallery.

Even though I didn’t deserve it, both Bo and Cliff forgave me. They were ecstatic about living in England and working in the gallery. They resided in a flat two blocks from my house. I loved the fact that I could take a scenic route every day even in a taxi, though my home in Kensington was less than a twenty-minute drive. I still hadn’t mastered British traffic.

We never discussed Kieran, any of us. I didn’t bring him up, even when talking to Coco. Though it had been almost two years, the wounds felt fresh. My heart ached for him. I hid the pain of the loss with work. That bullshit about
it’s better to have loved and lost than to have never loved
had never met the man I’d fallen in love with. There wasn’t a single day he didn’t cross my mind.

I flipped through art magazines and brochures, looking for any inklings of him or his work. It was as though he fell off the face of the earth. I couldn’t even find his name anywhere. My only hope was whatever he was doing, he was happy and well.

Nobody was ever around to witness my nightly breakdowns. I would lie in my bed and wonder
what if
and then torture myself by imagining he had gone back to his wicked ways and was pleasuring women everywhere.

I never loved anyone before him, so I didn’t have anything to compare the agony to. The physical pain I endured with Hartman was nothing compared to this emptiness. It hurt so badly there were nights when death would be preferable. The only reason he left me was I’d told him to go. I’d been so angry and unforgiving with him. It had been my decision; I forced him to walk away. I had so much regret, and I often wondered if he was suffering as I was. Every day since then was like a twelve-step program, taking one day at a time. I wondered if, in time, I would forget him and this pit in my stomach would go away. I’d been asking that question for almost two years.

I looked up from my thoughts and saw Bo staring at me. I always wondered if he could read the pain I felt in the depths of my eyes.

“Okay, well, I will see you and your handsome beau tonight. I have to go home and feed Lucifer.”

“You kill me, Elle. Who names their cat Lucifer?” he laughed.

“Well, I couldn’t name her Hartman.”

I’d bought a genuine English cottage—well, almost authentic. I had a contractor add three more bedrooms, two baths, and a gym. It was small compared to the Scarsdale house, but it was perfect for Lucifer and me. Lucy met me at the door, meowing as though she hadn’t been fed since the dawn of time.

“Okay, calm down, little one. You’ll live,” I purred back as I poured kibble into a bowl.

I decided a nice, long soak before the showing was due. I had a designer create a luxury bathtub with pedestal legs. It had the feeling of old world but with the plumbing of the present. Tonight’s event wasn’t a lavish ordeal, but we did have several dignitaries attending. Having some British society show up never hurt business. I was no longer pensive about the press or society. My scandal was forgotten within six months, replaced by another salacious affair, which was much darker and seedier. No one cared anymore, especially me.

After my bath, I began to get ready. I pulled out my crystal-beaded black cocktail dress and some black-bowed stilettos. I could have couture made for me, but I let Preston handle my money and affairs, and I didn’t find fancy clothing to be a necessity.

He had become a good friend and a trusted attorney. I never flaunted my wealth because I was afraid it might stir up some undesired attention. And even though the Wick name had been forgotten, I wanted my past to stay buried. I brushed out my hair and wore my black diamond earrings. I finished with deep-red lipstick and just a touch of mascara.

The boys picked me up promptly at seven.

“You know, Elle, we had a last-minute acquisition arrive after you left. It’s a fabulous piece. The detail is remarkable. I’ve been working with you for, what, about six years total, and this new artist knocked me off my feet. Can’t wait for you to see it. It kind of looks like you.”

I laughed at them both as I got into the cab. “You two think if it has a vagina, it looks like me.”

“No, I’m serious. This model could pass for you. Well, not now, but when you had longer hair,” Bo stated as we arrived at Unmasked.

I rolled my eyes as he helped me out of the car. “Where’s it at, this swanky-ass new acquisition of moi?”

“Do your mingling and hub-nubbing with the rich folks,” he joked as we stepped into the gallery. “Then go check it out. I hung it in the green room.”

“You already approved it and displayed it? Isn’t it normally a community vote of what we show, especially on nights like this? Oh yeah, it looks like me back in the day. Then it must be fabulous,” I quipped as my eyes perused both of them. “If I didn’t mention it before, you two look rather dashing tonight. You’ll have all the boys swooning.” I waited for a response, then added, “Possibly even some of the women.”

Both men rolled their eyes at the same time and then took each other’s hand.

They were so much of my life now. Not only in business, but they were truly my only friends. Ellery Wick had vanished, and six months later, Elle St. Claire emerged. Until I was positive the widow of Hartman Wick was no longer of interest to anyone, I kept my circle of acquaintances small.

I missed my best friend, even though we Skyped once a week and texted constantly. After I’d left, she took a fourteen-day cruise to escape all the drama. The media had gone after her, too. She couldn’t even go to a store without being plagued by the paparazzi. Even though guilt riddled me because my actions had affected her life, she never made me feel bad. That two-week vacation had changed her life.

His name was Gage, an investment banker. They married a year later, and she was six months pregnant now. I giggled like a schoolgirl when she told me the news. I could never have envisioned her as a mom, but it was happening and she was ecstatic. She’d sold the gallery and invested her money wisely. They were living in Boston, and his wealth combined with hers gave all the security she’d always craved. Even though our lives had taken separate paths, I felt at peace because, though this hadn’t been her initial dream, she embraced it and loved her life. We would always be best friends—that would never change—and I couldn’t wait to be Aunt Elle.

People were scattered everywhere, drinking champagne and perusing the displays. I greeted a few patrons I knew with a smile and a nod as I took a flute of champagne.

“Go check out that new painting. We’re dying for your opinion,” Bo said as he took my glass and prodded me toward the other room.

I chuckled and grabbed my champagne back. “I can’t just abandon this crowd. I’ll go sneak a peek later. Gee, you’re very excited about this procurement. I’ll have to admit all this fuss is making me curious.”

“Ten minutes, Elle. Then if I have to, I’m dragging you back there.”

I laughed, wondering what had gotten him so fired up. It had better not be a penis. British society was wound a little too tightly to be viewing porn. I shrugged because my employees knew the rules, no sexually explicit art. It had gotten me in too much trouble prior, and I had worked hard to get back what I lost.

I mulled around for a bit longer. Bo’s words made me curious. I put my glass down on a severing tray and walked back to the green room. We used that room for my final approval. Any art sanctioned for the main room had to be endorsed by me prior. I removed my wrap from around my neck as I saw a black curtain. A sense of déjà vu swept through me. I would kill them both if this were male appendage.

I lifted the corner of the drape, hoping it would be enough to get an idea of what this was. My hands shook as I pulled off the curtain. It was me, but only I would know that for sure because my hair was lighter and longer. My telltale blue eyes were closed. He must have drawn this while I was sleeping.
The sketch he would never show me.
I slipped on a single white glove and immediately began looking at the detail. He had captured a perfect silhouette of my face.

“They say art is supposed to stimulate the recipient. Regarding this particular piece, I would say it was the artist that was stimulated. It appears he captured her undaunted beauty.”

That scent. A nervous flutter raced through my body and I became suddenly frozen, afraid to turn around. I dreamt of this moment often, never once believing it would come true. Why now?

“Turn around, Elle. I need to see you.”

I slowly swiveled around. He looked different. His face was still beautiful, but now it had the appearance of maturity. His hair was shorter and his face was still free of piercings, with a deeply shadowed jaw. His muscled body appeared bigger, and not even the charcoal tux could hide it. He exuded maturity.

Bo and Cliff had known. I planned to throttle them later.

“Why are you here, Kieran?” I whispered as I stared at the floor. Gazing into his eyes would suck all the air out of the room and crush me.

“Because I love you. I’ve never stopped. Did you really think time and distance would make me forget you? It only kept me motivated to become the man you would want. I needed to love myself before I could share that love with someone else. You are my someone else.”