Boxed Set: The His Submissive Series Complete Collection (Part One-Part Twelve) (15 page)

“It’s great!” I said, feigning cheerfulness. He didn’t seem to buy it, but he lowered himself into his seat with a small nod anyway.

Once the waiter poured our glasses of wine and ducked away, I knew Jacob wasn’t letting up. His gaze pierced me, trying to decipher the hidden truth. I looked everywhere but in his direction. Glanced out the window. Looked at the other patrons in the restaurant. Stared at the dark liquid in my wine glass.

“This is one of my favorite restaurants in the city.” His admission should have been a prologue to a story about some past experience, but instead, there was something sour running beneath the words.

“It’s quite lovely.” I glanced up at him and thought better of it, dropping my eyes back to the menu. My hands were trembling so hard that I could barely make out any of the dishes. “What do you recommend?”

"Is something wrong, Leila?” he asked, ignoring my question. “You've been quiet since we left the museum."

I shook my head and gave him a smile that I hoped was reassuring and didn't just magnify my weird behavior. "Everything's p-perfectly fine."
God, that wasn't remotely convincing
. "Really."

He reached out and took the menu from me. Smart move—I had to look at him if I didn’t want to make it obvious that something was up.

Since we met I’d been trying to figure
him
out. To find something deeper. My stomach clenched with remorse because there was no mistaking the creased worry around his eyes, the curious cut of his jaw, lips knitted in confusion—I finally got my wish. Jacob was an open book. And he was concerned about me.

I wanted nothing more than to take his hand and tell him everything Rachel said. To watch him become the stone cold gladiator, take care of it all, then sweep me back to the special room and show me more parts of desire still undiscovered.

We are going to figure this out—or else.

"Is this about taking that call?" he said, not dropping it.

“Don’t be silly,” I said with a wave of my hand. “I was the one that made you take it, remember?”

I hoped for a grin when he remembered our exchange. Before he finally answered the phone he’d given me an achingly mischievous smile and joked about tossing it in the water. But he didn’t join me on walk down Memory Lane. He watched me skeptically, waiting for me to tell him what was really wrong.

“You’re being ridiculous!” I let out a laugh that came out as a strangled sob. I immediately covered my mouth, but it was too late. The worry was dialed up to fifty as he gripped my hands.

"Jesus Christ, Leila—tell me what's going on!"

"I-"
Tell him
! "It's just-" My cell vibrated in my pocket, cutting through any sort of confession.

It was Rachel.

I swallowed the truth and racked my mind for some excuse I could put in its place. The whole not feeling well thing was kind of weak. I needed something more meaty—something that could explain it all and pack a big punch.

My family. God help me...I was going to use my family.

"It's—” I gulped. “It’s my dad.”

Jacob’s brow furrowed. “Your dad?”

The knot in my throat became a boulder as I kept up the ruse. “Y-Yes. He's kind of sick so I'm just worried."

Jacob slackened his hold, something unreadable flashing in his gaze before he said anything. "I'm sorry, Leila. I hope it’s not serious.”

I was hoping the ‘kind of’ would keep me from having to lie any further or make up some horrible affliction that would just dig me deeper. “I don’t think it’s serious, but my mother has been a wreck.” I dug my nails into my thigh beneath the table. I had to stop talking. I was becoming a real life parable of how a little lie becomes a living, breathing monster.

Jacob’s eyes darkened with worry. “If you need to go home, I'll arrange it."

"No," I said quickly. When he gave me a weird look, I forced a smile. "I mean, I appreciate it, but that’s not necessary.” I swallowed. “I just need a minute. In the bathroom." I jerked back from the table and stumbled away before I lost my nerve.

Once I stepped into the bathroom I booked it into a stall, nausea forcing me to take a handful of deep breaths to keep from retching all over the floor.

I snapped upright when I felt my phone shudder again. I ripped it from my pocket.

-well???
Rachel’s text barked.

-in broom
. I plucked out. My thumb froze over the ‘send’ button. Damn her for putting me in this position. If she'd never... If I never...

I pressed the ‘send’ button and slumped against the stall door. The bitter taste of dread choked me as I thought of how worried Jacob had been all day. How he’d tried to cheer me up. We’d been on our way to having a great day, the best day, until Rachel showed her face.

And then the lie about my father. Jesus freaking Christ. I needed a time machine, some way to go back and use the sick excuse, no matter how weak. Using family was playing dirty.

Jacob will understand
, I thought frantically. He had to. I'd tell him that Rachel threatened him. That she threatened
me
. He'd understand. And then he’d sweep me into his arms and...He’d take my hand and...the sunset...

I really
was
acting delusional. This wasn't a movie. And even if it was, I’d seen this scenario play out on the screen a million times. It was always the lie was that drove the couple apart. My lie would destroy everything I’d been desperately trying to build.

I threw open the door of the stall, hyperventilating as I looked into the mirror. What the hell had I done? Since when did I bend for someone who didn't have my best interests at heart? When did I become Rachel Laraby's bitch?

I splashed some water on my face and rolled my shoulders back. This was a mistake. One I had to fix.

I pushed back into the lobby of the restaurant, the conversations around me reduced to mere whispers. There was nothing except the stiletto tap of my shoes and the orchestra of nerves inside me. Heart thumping out of my chest. Throat as dry as the Sahara. Hands so shaky they could barely hold onto my clutch. And when I saw Rachel reach across the table and grip Jacob's hand, anger that turned every color red.

When Jacob spied me his face ran amuck with emotion. Like he was trying to apologize to
me
.

My heart seized in my chest. She hadn't told him anything?

She turned her head and it was almost as terrifying as that scene from
The Exorcist
. Her jade eyes filled with delight and two words fell from her scarlet lips: ‘Good job’.

Jacob was the first to speak, his eyes screaming ‘this isn’t what it looks like’. "Rachel was just in the neighborhood." He winced, realizing how ridiculous that sounded.

Well hold on tight, you ain’t heard nothin’ yet
. "Jacob, there's something I need to-"

"How much did we decide on, Leila?" Rachel interrupted. “One thousand? Two?”

Jacob looked at her, then looked at me, then back to Rachel. "Decide on?"

Rachel let out a weary sigh as she reached for her purse and pulled out her check book. "I'm sorry you had to find out this way Jacob, but clearly Leila stormed out here to ensure payment."

"Payment?! We never discussed-" My mouth hung agape as all the pieces fell into place. “You bitch!”

“Calling names.” She tsked like I was some disobedient child. “That will
certainly
prove that you have nothing to hide.”

I didn’t know what to be angry about first. That I was dumb enough to let her bully me at all, or that I played right into her hand. She wasn’t going to tell anyone anything about the contracts—at least not anytime soon. She just wanted to set me up.

"What the hell is going on here?" Jacob thundered, anger quickly replacing his confusion as he threw his napkin on the table.

Rachel was as cool as a cucumber as she reached for my glass of wine. "I'm sure she'll have some conspiracy theory because she's trying to cover her tracks." She winked at me. "But we both know the truth, don't we, Leila?"

"She's full of it,” I hissed. I just had to focus on Jacob. Only Jacob. “The truth is-" I stalled when I saw his face harden to stone. "The truth is...I..."

It was my chance to set the record straight. The thing was. Part of it would exonerate me, but the other part would incriminate me. There was no way I could expose Rachel without exposing myself. And I just couldn’t get out the words that could destroy everything.

"The truth is what, Leila?" Jacob said, eyes smoldering. "Spit it out."

"She came to me at the museum today,” I conceded, hanging my head. “She threatened to go to the press if I didn't give her five minutes with you."

Jacob frowned. “Go to the press? Go to the press with what?”

“W-with the contracts.” I sunk my teeth into the inside of my jaw until I tasted blood. “She knows about the contracts.”

Relief flooded me when the pure rage storming in his eyes turned on Rachel. “You threatened Leila?”

Rachel sputtered something about money and I relaxed—until he held up a hand, silencing her. He turned his face from her and lifted his eyes to mine."Wait a minute. So all this morning, this afternoon, when I asked you if something was wrong, you lied to me?"

"Yes," I said hoarsely. "But I was just trying to-"

"And that whole bit about your father being sick." His voice was low and dangerous. His eyes were worse. "That was a lie as well."

"My my," Rachel cackled behind me. "Who knew Miss Montgomery could act as well?"

I balled my fists at my side, trying to ignore her. She wasn't important. Every second that passed Jacob could spin all sorts of terrible conclusions. I had to make him understand.

I moved forward and put my hand over his, thrusting past the disdain in his glare. He was back to the disguise, the wall he put up to protect himself. I'd finally chipped away at it; I’d seen proof of that all day. Even if he was pissed at me, he was still reachable.

"I'm sorry I lied, but this isn't what it looks like,” I said forcefully. “Rachel didn't have to pay me-"

He slid his hand from beneath mine. "Why should I believe anything you say?"

I reared back in shock. There were a million reasons he should believe me. He knew me, better than anyone. But there was one screeching reason why he shouldn't. If I could lie about my father’s fake illness, what
wouldn’t
I lie about?

"Jacob..." Tears sparked in my eyes. “Jacob, please just let me explain.”

He looked right through me. "You're dismissed, Miss Montgomery."

Dismissed? I wanted to shake him, force him to listen, but nothing would be gained from making a scene.

“I’ll wait for you at the hotel,” I murmured, just loud enough for him to hear. “I’ll wait as long as it takes.”

“That won’t be necessary,” he said coldly. “Your services are no longer required.” He reached into his lapel and retrieved his phone. “I’ll have Allegra assist you in packing your things for your departure.”

I shouldn’t have been able to walk, to move when I felt like someone was jumping up and down on my chest, but I mustered the little dignity I had left and walked away from the man I loved.

****

I
used the sleeve of my long sleeved t-shirt to make myself presentable and put on a halfhearted smile as I opened the door. Before Rachel slithered back onto the scene, there’d been one person I’d wanted to confide in about falling for Jacob. The same person would take me away from him.

"Hi Allegra."

"Hello Leila." She stepped into the room, glancing around at the sad state of things. You could barely make out the floor through the strips of clothes and underwear that were strewn about. I’d spent a ludicrous amount on overpriced room service chocolate and there was a graveyard of wrappers glittering in the dim light.

She raised her eyebrows at the sight of my worn overnight bag sitting on top of the vanity.

I gestured at it. "I'm pretty much packed." I let out a bitter chuckle. "I figure when Jacob Whitmore ‘dismisses’ you he wants you to leave behind the company supplied wardrobe, huh?"

“Jacob is not that way,” she reassured me. “
Va bene
. It will be okay.”

I had to stop myself from glaring at her. None of this was her fault. But the fact remained that I was being expelled from Jacob’s life, and everything that I’d fought tooth and nail for—my job, some semblance of respect and control, what we could have been—it was all over. Things couldn’t be further from okay.

“You believe me, yes?” she asked gently.

I didn’t have the energy to pretend her attempts at making me feel better were doing any good. “No, I don’t believe you.”

As soon as I felt her hand on my shoulder, I lost it. I didn't bother with words, letting my sobs fill the awkward silence. Allegra stood there and took it, stroking my back like my mother used to when I was a kid.

Back then I’d ball my eyes out, complaining about the other girls picking on me for some reason or another. My mother told me they were just jealous, that they had to bring me down to make themselves feel better. She’d kiss my forehead and say that someday I’d meet someone amazing. Some rich businessman or prince. Even then I knew she was living vicariously through me. Wishing for a life that didn’t include living from paycheck to paycheck.

If she could only see me now
, I thought, a fresh wave of sadness washing over me. There’d be no back stroking or trying to make me feel better— just yelling that I screwed up my ticket to the good life.

When the well was dry, I gave Allegra a bleary smile. I knew Jacob well enough to know he didn't tell her much more than to pick me up and take me to the airport. Anyone else would have been chomping at the bit to find out what went down. Not Allegra.

"I really screwed up," I said hoarsely, grabbing a wad of tissue. One swipe and it was a soggy clump. “I’ve ruined everything.”

"We all make mistakes, Leila."

"Not like this." I shook my head from side to side. "And after we were so close...so close."

The quiet rushed back in and I swept a bunch of clothes to the floor and plopped onto the bed. Allegra stood like a sentry a few feet away, waiting for me to talk, to cry, to do whatever I needed.