Dirty Rich(29)

"I'm not exactly sure," I tell her, not realizing until I say it that  it's true. Without Basiqué-without Jax-what do I have in New York aside  from an expensive apartment I can no longer afford and friendships that  I've long since let lapse? "But I'll keep my cell on. Doesn't matter if  it's late." That's something that Bee and I have said to each other over  the years, even if we don't take advantage of it much.         

     



 

"Doesn't matter," Bee says, opening her eyes and smiling at me again. "Go get some rest. At least you can!"

The soft sounds of their voices follow me out the door, and then I'm standing on the sidewalk in the gentle summer heat.

Where to now?

I'll start with my parents. I've been so busy the past few days-the past  few months-that I haven't had a lot of time to visit. I send the same  text to both of their phones.

My mom is out with her friends, my dad writes to me, and then she'll be  going over to Bee's house, but he's free for dinner and a beer.





My dad meets me at a sports bar in downtown Beechford, where Dex and Bee  live. We grew up in Winthrop Harbor, which isn't far. I could drive my  rental car there, no problem, but he insists on coming to me. My hotel  is down the block from the restaurant-it doesn't make sense for me to  drive. I've done enough, he says.

Twenty minutes later, he slides into the booth across from me and grasps my hands in is. "You're an incredible woman, Cate."

My dad's voice unlocks something in me, and everything comes rushing out of me all at once. Well … almost everything.

" … and I got fired from my job. I don't work at Basiqué anymore." A few tears spill onto my cheeks.

Dad waves his hand in the air and takes another bite of his burger. "It's just a job."

"Just a job?" My voice shrills high enough to make me sound absolutely ridiculous.

"Of course, Cate. It's not the end of the world. And this guy-Jock?"

"Jax."

"He sounds like he cares about you. Maybe he's a little pretentious, but what rich guy isn't? That job was killing you anyway."

"‘That job' was going to be my ticket to some security in life, Dad. You of all people should know how important that is."

He puts down his burger and stares me in the eye.

"Cate, you're as smart as they come, but I'm going to tell you this anyway. There's no such thing as a guarantee."

"But you-"

"Circumstances happened with my career that I couldn't plan for, and in  other ways I didn't plan enough. But I'm all right! I'm still here,  aren't I?"

I nod, my throat tight. "I don't want that to happen to me."

My dad laughs out loud. "Oh, Cate, my favorite Cate in all the world.  That's not going to happen to you. You schedule out date nights, for  God's sake. You're going to be fine."

"How can you be so sure?"

"There aren't any guarantees, but I know-I know, Cate-that you could  stand to worry less. Plan a little bit of your life out, if you want,  but I think you might have learned the wrong lesson from how I went into  retirement."

"I did?"

"Yeah, you did. The important thing isn't to invest your life in your job."

"It's not?"

"No. The important thing-" He reaches across the table and pants my  hand, giving me a grin. "-It's always the people, Cate. People that love  you. People that you love. No job can compete with that."





Chapter 40

Jax





I've dragged myself out of the penthouse and to a series of clubs with  Christian, and with every passing moment I regret this decision even  more.

Everything grates on my nerves, from the laughter around the table at  the Purple Swan to the women dancing in the club we're at now-I don't  remember the name of it. Christian has a standing reservation for a  luxury booth here, which is why we came, but none of the women hold the  slightest goddamn bit of appeal for me now.

The music booms from the oversized speakers near the turntables. I can't escape it, so instead I order another drink.

The crowds come and go around the booth, kept a short distance away by  velvet ropes. This club is about a hundred steps down from the Purple  Swan, but even the Swan isn't good enough for me tonight.

Where do I want to be instead?

In my penthouse with Cate.

I'd even settle for watching some horrible rom-com.

But what I'd really like to do is tear her clothing off her body and  worship every inch of her skin like I'll never get another chance,  spread her legs wide and taste the sweetness there, lick it all up, lick  and suck her until she gushes a new wave of wetness into my mouth, tug  at her nipples with my teeth, turn her over on her hands and knees and  drive my cock into her hot core …          

     



 

One of the women Christian has collected throughout the evening breaks into my thoughts by shouting into my ear.

"What's it take to impress a guy like you?"

"What do you mean?" I shout back, already disgusted by the aroma of  alcohol on her breath, by the fact that she's not Cate, by the fact that  I brought this on myself.

"You're way richer than Chris. That's what the girls said."

I shake my head. "We don't need to-"

She barrels on. "So I want to know what it would take to impress you.  You've probably got an entire building to yourself, and I'd keep you  company if you wanted to head home."

"No."

I don't remember her name. I can't remember the first thing about her. I  want nothing to do with this woman, who just wants to be able to say  she's slept with me. If she's lucky, she'll make it onto the gossip  sites just like Victoria-Vivian?-did.

Without another word to her, I stand up and leave the booth, stepping  around long legs and high heels and bodies that sway from drinking. I  don't even bring my drink with me. I don't want it anymore.

I don't want anything but Cate, and it's fucking killing me.

How much longer am I going to have to live like this before I can stand it? Or, better yet, forget it and move on?

Moving blindly toward the exit, I push people out of my way, my only mission to get through the crowd and outside.

Thirty feet from the door, the sidewalk is blessedly empty.

I text Peter to bring the car.

His response comes quickly. Five minutes.

A hand on my shoulder startles me. I whip my head around, wondering if  it's going to be some asshole shoving a camera in my face, but it's  Christian.

"What's going on with you, man?" he says, looking half concerned and  half irritated. "You made quite the scene, leaving like that. You're  lucky none of those photographers are here."

I roll my eyes. "Those photographers were lucky that time at the Swan  because your girl Vivian called them and gave them the address of the  club."

"That's-" He only has the grace to look a little ashamed. "Seriously, is  something up? It's not like you to walk out on a perfectly good party  without even saying goodbye." His tone is light, but I think he does  want to know. His playboy ways notwithstanding, Christian is a decent  guy, and a good friend.

"I don't know why I'm telling you this."

"Just spit it out. There are women waiting for me inside. Women, Jax."

"You remember I told you I needed to forget someone? The woman from the magazine?"

"You couldn't forget her, could you?"

"No."

"How far are you in over your head, Jax?"

"Underwater."

Christian purses his lips. "So what happened? Did you have to cut her loose?"

"No. I got her fired from her job."

"Jax," Christian says, starting to laugh. "What have I told you about fucking women in the office?"

I decide not to tell him about that part.

"I got her fired from her job."

Christian's mouth drops open. "What the fuck?"

"It was killing her, man. She was going to lose it. The only thing is, I  didn't get a chance to tell her about the plan I had." I run my fingers  through my hair. "She got so fucking angry at me that she dumped me,  and then she had to run home for an emergency with her sister."

"Jesus, Jax. And you haven't gone to talk to her yet?"

"She left New York."

"So?"

"So, she's in a different state with her family."

"And you have a private jet."

"She doesn't want anything to do with me."

Now it's Christian's turn to roll his eyes. "People say stupid shit in the heat of the moment. Are you absolutely sure?"

"Pretty sure."

"That doesn't sound a hundred percent to me."

"What the hell do you expect me to do?"

Christian slaps me on the back like I'm his junior employee and he's a  sixty-year-old CEO. "Well, Jax, I tell you this as your best fucking  friend in the entire world: stop being such a controlling jackass and  trying to take over her life. Also, if you miss her enough to interrupt  parties over her, just go see her. It's never too late for love."