Bound: The Pentagon Group, Book 3 (24 page)

After a short wave of sickness, which I drowned with sips of water, hunger and thirst beckoned me to find a snack in the break room. I put on my heels and stood when a knock on the door frightened me. “Yes,” I asked meekly, hoping it was the cleaning crew wanting access to the trash bin. Without permission to enter, the door opened, and I saw Matt peek in. He didn’t look happy.

“Matt!” I exclaimed in surprise.

“Expecting someone else?” He asked sarcastically.

“No. Come in,” I invited.

He walked in and closed the door, reclining on the door. He looked so sexy in his scrubs. I ventured he’d come from the hospital.

“Did you meet with anyone in particular today?” He asked knowingly.

‘Fuck!’ I thought. I couldn’t help but think he came to the office to punish me for seeing Brady.

“Yes. I met with Brady to retrieve our license,” I answered honestly.

“Is there anything else?” He inquired.

“Caroline scheduled a dinner with Brady and his mom, Maggie at Stock Well. I made sure it was scheduled to be at a public place.”

“Yes, it is in a public place. A place which is new and has been well received by the press,” he said in a manner as to elude I’d made a huge mistake.

“Okay?”

“I told you I don’t want you to see him. I warned you. Now, you’re going out with him and his mother in public? And you’re doing it at a place where the who’s who of Boston have been attending and raving about. You will be seen. Pictures will be taken. Newspapers and blogs will write about this. Our press department is trying to keep the fact that my wife returned from her honeymoon with another man under wraps.”

“What?” I asked incredulously.

He pulled out his smart phone, tapping furiously until he retrieved what he needed. In brilliant color, an article showed pictures of Matt, Brady, and me. It was our official executive pictures found on Pentagon’s website. The title read, “Love Triangle: Bountiful Beauty Bewitches Bachelor Buddies.” It was clearly a trashy news blog. I read the article, squinting at the small screen. It identified Pentagon’s entire history; relationship between the Board members; the triangle amongst us; and how I was the woman who could bring down the entire Pentagram project and worse, the empire.

The article claimed I’d been secretly dating Brady behind Matt’s back since returning from a week-long trip in the Dominican Republic where we were spotted dancing and canoodling at the resort’s spectacular four star restaurant and casino. Pixelated pictures of us were provided in a slide show: dancing close; moments after Brady saved me from my attacker and he held me; and Brady and I walking close to the car as he held my heels in his hand. The article capped the piece with information of failed attempts to obtain a copy of the marriage license because the license does not appear to have been filed.

I handed him his phone.

I felt ill. My head started to pound and I sat down, taking a sip of water. I turned around, gagging on the water, which I shouldn’t have consumed. Matt didn’t ask me if I was well. I assumed he was trying to calm himself down.

“Other news outlets are picking this up,” he said.

“I’m sorry, but I have no control over the press. I’m not doing anything wrong. I’m doing everything I can to meet your parameters. Obviously there’s a leak. Since you’re here, clearly someone has been informing you about my movements and actions,” I spat.

“Are you deliberately working toward my punishing you?”

“Matt, your request to not see Brady is unreasonable, especially when you’re telling me to file the marriage license,” I argued.

“You’re more than capable to find a way. You could have obtained it without seeing him,” he accused. I rolled my eyes.

“Matt, I’m sorry, but I disagree. I work with him. I’m having dinner with him and his mother. I need you to trust me,”

“I trusted you would follow my directives, but you failed,” he raised his voice.

It was a side of him I hadn’t ever seen. Quite frankly, I never wanted to see it again.

“I’ve had a long day. I’m too tired to argue with you, so if you don’t mind, let’s pick this up another night,” I said, containing my frustration.

“This isn’t how this works. You don’t dismiss me,” he said, leaning down over me. I recline into my chair, backing away from his furious gaze.

“You two looked cozy in that restaurant, dancing . . . him holding you,”

“It meant nothing, Matt.”

“And now you’re going out with him and his mother like you’re getting approval to join the family? Do you not see how this looks?” He queried loudly. To compose himself, he walked away from my desk. He asked, “Did you get the license?” I nodded, but realized he wasn’t looking at me.

“Yes,” I said meekly.

“When are you filing it?” he asked exasperated.

“Soon,” I answered. He turned to look at me, expecting more. “I have to sort through a few things and you have to really consider if I frustrate you this much, maybe we shouldn’t be married.”

“And you need to consider I’m frustrated because I want to be married when you really don’t.”

We both stared at each other with pursed lips and furrowed brows. It hurt so much to hear him say such a thing I could feel my heart willing my body to cry, but my brain forced the stoical stare-down.

“I need to go home, so if you’ll excuse me, I need to pack up.”

“I’ll wait until you do. I’ll walk you home.”

“No need. There’s no threat to me anymore,” I argued.

“It’s not an offer,” he concluded.

I stopped arguing, and started packing my briefcase, taking work with me to review before bed. We didn’t speak as he watched me prepare. I took my time to finish organizing my desk. I went to put my briefcase around my neck, but he grabbed the strap and placed it on his shoulder. The gesture was so reminiscent of the man I fell instantly in love with. I grabbed Gill’s in box, which he also took. The act touched me so much I gave him a kiss on the corner of his mouth, feeling the bristles of his beard.

With his free arm, he pulled me close and gave me the gentlest kiss. It made me shiver with emotion, and I hoped we could overcome this new scandal. I pulled away, “I love you,” and he didn’t respond. He gently pushed me forward. When I opened the door, Ken stood at the other side. I was surprised to see him.

“Please take Ms. Mercurio home, Ken,” he ordered.

“Haven’t we established I don’t need security?” I directed at Matt.

“He’s not your security. He’s mine,” and by the look on his face, I knew what he meant. He was trying to prevent himself from attacking Brady. I took the bin from his hands, and placed it on Gill’s desk. Matt handed my briefcase to Ken. Without another word, I walked ahead of both men toward the elevator. A burly man, one who was at the airport stepped out, held the elevator. Ken and I stepped in.

“Aren’t you coming?” I asked Matt.

“No. I’m going up,” he said before the elevator closed.

“Stay right out here,” I warned my guard, Elliot. His only job was to ensure I didn’t hurt Brady. He was to listen for any signs of struggle or distress. I didn’t need him to hear our entire discussion. A call to Brady’s personal assistant alerted me he was still in the office; a perfect opportunity to speak man-to-man about the woman we both wanted.

His door was closed, and I knocked repeatedly until he answered. “Come in!” I heard. He was on the phone. As soon as he saw me, his eyes widened and then narrowed into slits to compliment the thin lips of his tightened mouth and jaw. “Let’s pick this back up tomorrow,” he said to the party at the end of the line before hanging up. “What can I do for you, Mattie,” he asked, trying to lighten the dark atmosphere.

“I came here to ask you to leave my . . . Perla alone,” I stated.

“Mattie, she’s a grown woman capable of making her own decisions.”

“It wasn’t her decision to be kidnapped and taken to your property. And it wasn’t her decision to stay despite your claims she had free will. She was stranded and you took advantage of it,” I argued.

“Well, she’s in Boston now. She’s back with you. I returned the marriage license, so whether or not she files is truly up to her.”

“Not when you use your mother to keep Perla in your life,” I countered.

“I’m not using anyone. Perla had a close relationship with my mother and I’m sure both of them would like it to resume. I’m just acting as intermediary,” he said pretentiously. I hated when he acted above his class.

“Along the lines of free will, why can’t your mother communicate with Perla on her own and you remove yourself from their reunion altogether?” I asked.

He paused, thinking. “Because I’m not willing to give up. I want her. We had a great connection in the Dominican Republic, and I’m not going to let her forget how much we mean to each other, friend,” he retorted.

I felt my blood boil.

“If you want a big fight, Brady, you’re going to get one. You know I won’t back down.”

“And you know I won’t either,” he contested. “Perla will choose whom she wants. I have an advantage you don’t, Matt,” Brady started. I listened patiently, hoping to learn something I could use against him.

“Family. Perla will always think of me as family. And if you haven’t noticed, it’s all she’s ever wanted. We have the benefit of knowing exactly what she went through and what she so desperately needs. And you my good ol’ friend can’t carry or foster those memories,”

“Stay the fuck away from her, Brady, or so help me I will ruin you,” I shouted. I heard a shuffle behind me, and saw Brady’s eyes widen and adjust to take in the image of Elliot.

“I have an advantage over you Brady,” I threatened. “I will decimate this company. Rip it apart at the seams. Halt all progress. Sell pieces of it to the first bidder, and you will be left without your precious title, money, and social status in this city. And most importantly, you won’t have Perla,” I warned. I turned and walked away with Elliot following close behind.

*****

Afterwards I dismissed Elliot, and jogged all the way to Perla’s. I found her dressed in a nightgown in the kitchen, placing a bowl in the sink. She looked startled, but didn’t say anything about my entering her apartment without permission. She looked sad. Her face looked red as if she’d been crying. She looked like I felt, and part of me was content to find her this way.

After looking me over, she asked me, “Are you okay?” I nodded.

“Do you want something to eat?” She asked. She sounded so timid and fearful. I hated making her feel that way.

“You,” I said half-heartedly, and I walked over to her. She remained in place, only moving to place brace herself on the counter. Once I went to her, I couldn’t help but kiss her. Brady’s words reverberated in my mind. While I wanted to punish her for disobeying me, I wanted to cradle her in my arms for feeling so lonely. I wanted to be everything for her, and I feared I wouldn’t be enough.

After pulling away from a long, heated kiss, I asked, “Did you eat enough?”

“Yeah. By some miracle, someone stocked the fridge and made me several meals,” she said, smiling softly as she looked at my lips.

I had Glynnis shop and prepare meals for her, hoping she would eat healthy and consistently. Perla looked thinner and tired.

Perla kissed me, holding my head close to get her fill of my mouth. When she pulled back, she said, “Thank you. You didn’t have to do this, but I really needed help,” she finally admitted.

Her statement made me feel so much desire for her. I only wanted to take care of her. Brady was right. She wanted a family and I desperately wanted to create my own.

“What’s your schedule like this week,” I asked.

“I have a couple of rehearsals for the performance.”

“Yeah, I’ll be attending with my family,” he said.

“I have dinner with Brady’s mom on Wednesday,” she said tentatively. I couldn’t contain my frown.

“Are you free for dinner, Thursday?”

“Um, sure,” she said unconvincingly.

“Is there a problem?” I asked, needing more enthusiasm, especially if I was going to take her to meet my parents.

“I’m just trying to get caught up at work, and I’d planned to stay at work longer,”

“Or meet with Brady?”

“What?” She asked in disgust. “What is that supposed to mean? How do you go from my honest reason to me wanting to meet with Brady. I’m already seeing him on Wednesday. And I’m doing so publicly.”

“You’re having dinner with me on Thursday. You’re meeting my parents. I’ll make sure Carrie schedules it in your calendar. I’ll pick you up no later than 5:30,” I ordered.

She didn’t respond. I gave her a kiss on the forehead, and released her, making my way to the door.

“Wait,” she said, looking forlorn. She remained silent. I forced myself to stay at the door, far away from her tantalizing body. I could see an internal struggle within her, but she didn’t utter a word.

After a while, she said, “Good night.”

I nodded and walked out, locking the door.