Sinful Desires Vol. 4(2)

Reed held up a hand. “What the fuck are you talking about? I had no idea Brock put anything in your water,” Reed insisted. “Had I known, or even suspected it, I would have killed him.”

“Yeah, right. My hero.”

Reed’s eyes narrowed at my sarcasm but I continued, “Don't bother.” I crossed my arms. “Wouldn't want you to do something that might jeopardize knocking up the wife you don't love.”

“Who told you...” he started to ask, then answered his own question. “Brock.” His hands became fists. “Now I'm really going to kill him.”

“Oh, was that supposed to be a secret?” I asked. “Were you thinking I'd be a nice piece of ass while Britni was pregnant, but I wasn't supposed to know the reason?”

“It's not like that.”

I hugged out a breath, not believing he thought me so gullible. “I know about the heir clause, Reed. Did you think that was going to be your out? Your way to excuse the fact that you say you want to be with me, but you're still sleeping with your wife?” I could feel the little bit of control I had slipping away. “If that's what you came here to say, don't bother.”

“That's not why I came here.” He tossed an envelope at me and I caught it reflexively. “I came to apologize for my behavior.”

I stared at him, then looked down at the envelope, rage building inside me again. “What’s this?” I held it up. “Money? Surprise, surprise. That's how men like you 'apologize' to girls like me, isn't it? Buy us off with cash or jewelry.” I walked over to the table and grabbed the roses from their vase. It tipped over, spilling water across the dishes I hadn't yet cleaned up. I didn't care. “Or flowers. That's always a good one. I should be so grateful that someone like you would buy me flowers that I should just forgive you.” I shoved the flowers into the trashcan, keeping my back to Reed so he couldn't see the tears that had finally managed to escape.

“No,” he snapped. “It's not money. It's a place at Madam Emilana's Dance School in Philadelphia.”

Shock broke through my anger enough to make me turn, but he was gone. I took a step toward the door. My mind was spinning. This was too much. I was still reeling from Brock's confession and Reed's accusations, and now I had a hundred questions about the envelope I'd tossed onto the table when I'd grabbed the roses.

The first one was the most obvious. Why? Why had Reed pulled strings to get me a place at one of the elite private studios in Philadelphia? There had to be some ulterior motive. Some reason beyond wanting to apologize.

The door opened and my heart gave a wild leap. An unwanted flash of disappointment poured through me. It was Julien.

“Are you okay?” he asked immediately. He glanced at the trashcan where broken stalks stuck up. The scent from the crushed petals was nearly overwhelming.

I started to nod, but it quickly became a shake as my composure cracked. I put my face in my hands and pressed my lips together, desperately trying not to completely break in front of Julien. He placed his hand on my shoulder and the kind touch undid me. I let out a strangled sob and he pulled me against his chest.

All of the frustration of the past couple months, combined with everything that had happened tonight was too much. I could barely breathe as I cried, taking gulping, gasping breaths before letting them out again in choking sobs. I didn't try to explain what I was feeling and Julien didn't ask. He didn't say anything, in fact. He just held me and let me cry.

At some point, we moved to the couch, but his hands stayed on my back the entire time. Not once did they venture anywhere they shouldn't be and I realized I felt safe. I trusted him, and though I knew that might've been the emotional vulnerability talking, I didn't have the energy for anything more introspective.

Finally, I pulled back, brushing my hands across my cheeks. I felt hollow and empty inside, but it was better than everything else I'd been feeling. And I didn't think I was going to throw up now, which was a definite plus.

“Do you want to be alone?” Julien broke the silence with his softly-spoken question. “Or do you want me to stay on the couch?”

I appreciated the way he worded it so there was no doubt as to his intentions. I looked up at him, promising myself that if I saw the least bit of interest, I'd ask him to leave. All I saw was compassion and a hint of anger.

“I'll get some sheets.” I sniffled as I stood.

“Don't go to any trouble,” Julien got to his feet as well. “This is better than half the places I slept in Europe.”

“It's no trouble,” I said. “It's the least I could do.”

When I came back from the bathroom closet, Julien was clearing the table. I didn't protest because I knew it wouldn't do any good. Instead, I put the sheets on the couch and then went to help him.

After we finished, I showered and finally climbed into bed. I was so emotionally and physically exhausted that I didn't have any problem falling straight to sleep.





Chapter 2

When I woke up, it took a minute to remember why my eyes were swollen and dry, and why I had that hollowed out feeling in my chest. Everything came rushing back all at once and I pressed my face into my pillow to stifle my pained cry. The betrayal, the anger at myself for being so stupid, all of it was still there, though just a bit less fresh than it had been the day before.

I laid there for several minutes, letting the pain wash through me and over me. I knew the only way to deal with it was to let it have its way and learn to breathe around it. This wasn't the worst pain I'd ever felt, and since I'd survived before, I knew this ache would be bearable. It wasn't pleasant, but it wouldn't drive me over the edge. I was stronger than this.

I sat up, my eyes still dry. I wasn't going to let this stop me from living my life. And that meant I had a decision to make.

I'd picked up the envelope from the table last night while Julien and I had been cleaning up, and I'd brought it into my room to dry. I hadn't opened it since it hadn't looked like the water from the vase had soaked through. Now, I reached over to the table next to my bed and picked it up. It was one of those manila envelopes, so I didn't have to unfold the papers inside before I could see what they said.

The one on top was a welcome letter stating that I'd received a grant from an anonymous donor to attend classes at the studio. The grant was renewing, so as long as I maintained attendance and met the qualifying guidelines, I would be able to continue attending. My place was probationary, based on my performance at my formal interview as well as my progress for the first ninety days.

That actually made me feel better. Reed hadn't just bought them off. I still had to earn my way in. That meant I wouldn't be accepted if I weren’t good enough. Most people would've thought that would put more pressure on me, but it was that requirement that made me consider accepting the place. Sure, his money had opened the door, but it hadn't guaranteed me anything more than a shot. I hated the idea of owing him something, but it wouldn't be as big a debt as I'd first thought. And, realistically, I had to consider that it might be worth it in the end.

After the introductory letter were several other papers that appeared, at first glance, to be forms I needed to fill out. I didn't look closer at them, however, because at that moment I heard something, a noise from the kitchen. I stiffened, then remembered that Julien had stayed the night on the couch. Unless Rosa had decided to come home early from visiting her mother, it was him. I heard a man's voice utter a low oath and I smiled. Julien.

I climbed out of bed and headed into the bathroom. I wasn't going to primp, but I also wanted to at least run a brush through my hair and get rid of my morning breath. My stomach rumbled as wonderful smells wafting down the hallway. Julien must be making us breakfast; it smelled like bacon and eggs. But I knew that couldn't be the case. I couldn't remember the last time I'd had enough money for bacon. Toast was the usual go-to for breakfast on the rare occasion either of us ate it.

My stomach growled again. Apparently I was hungrier than I'd thought. The previous night's insanity must've taken its toll. I finished washing my face, pulled my hair back into a lopsided ponytail and headed out of my room and to the kitchen.

“Hey,” Julien said as I came out of the hallway. He was sucking on the side of his finger like he'd burnt it. “I was craving bacon and eggs so I went out and got some. Hope you don't mind.”

I shook my head, appreciating the fact that he wasn't pointing out what was missing in my kitchen. I'd spent basically my entire food budget on the previous night's dinner.

I frowned as I thought of it. Such a waste.

“So…” Julien's tone told me he was going to ask something of a slightly personal nature. “What was in the envelope?”

My head jerked up. That hadn't been what I'd expected. I'd been thinking more along the lines of wanting to know how I was doing or something like that.

“If you don't want to tell me,” he hurriedly added.

“No, it's okay,” I assured him. “I was just surprised you'd noticed it, that's all.”

He shrugged as he scraped the scrambled eggs onto two plates. “It wasn't there when we were eating, but it was when we were cleaning up. Doesn't take a genius to figure out Reed brought it for you.” He glanced at me and then scowled down at the bacon. “Is he trying to buy you off?”