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Authors: Charity Ferrell

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CHAPTER THIRTY- FOUR
 

ELISE

 
 

I puckered up my ruby red lips and smacked them together. “Oh MAC, how I’ve missed thee,” I cooed into the mirror. I parted my lips, swiped some more color on, and smacked them together again.

I reached up and smoothed down my curls. My eyelids were painted a light gold with winged eyeliner coming off each side.

I settled my eyes on my reflection. I was headed down the road of happiness. I didn’t fully love myself yet, but I was getting there. I was no longer the reigning princess of the Parks Empire. The girl portrayed as the over-sexed bitch was gone. I was now a girl discovering herself without another dictating how she was doing it. I was finally free.

“Be good. Be safe, and only spread your legs if he’s wearing a Rolex around his wrist,” my friend Carrie advised, collapsing onto my bed with a globe of wine in her hand.

“Careful, I just bought those sheets,” I scolded.

She rolled her eyes and held her drink up in the air. “Happy now?” I nodded. “And don’t forget to take my advice.”

“Seriously? Advice? What kind of advice is that?” I asked, dousing my strands with hair spray.

“One from a hooker,” she replied, with no shame.

Carrie was twenty-six, and lived across the hall from me. The first night I moved in, she showed up at my doorstep with a bottle of wine in her hand. She took one look at my bare apartment, grabbed my arm and had me watching TV at her place.

She was gorgeous. Her ruby-red hair was pulled back around her crown with loose waves flowing to the sides, framing her flawless face. Her married boyfriend paid for her place so he could make his four-times-a-week visit to her and get laid.

She was like me. She didn’t believe in love and that might’ve been why we clicked so easily. She claimed it was a bullshit fairy tale parents told their daughters so they’d wait for a prince charming and not give it up to the first boy who smiled their way. She’d slept with so many men who’d made vows to women, promising to cherish them in their marriage, and then sneak over to fuck her brains out.

I groaned. “You’re not a hooker,” I threw back, resulting in an arched brow from her. “Okay, you’re not a straight out of the box hooker,” I corrected, and she busted out in laugher. “You only bang one guy at a time. Don’t hookers bang multiple people all the time for fast cash? They make their rounds from hotel rooms to hotel rooms?”

I’d technically been a hooker myself. I put out for business deals. Carrie put out for a place to live and Chanel bags. Everyone puts out for
something,
they just might not know it yet.
 

She grinned, her bright pink lips forming a giant smile, and she pointed my way with an apple colored nail. “Au contraire, I’m a
high-end
hooker. Does that make it sound better? Does that give me a little bit of morality?”

“You’re a home-wrecker. A side-chick. He takes care of you like any guy would take care of a girlfriend or wife. It’s not like he pays you by the hour, has you blow him off, and then leaves you at some cheap motel with a bad case of the clap.”
 

I didn’t exactly agree with Carrie sleeping with married men. I personally would never be the other woman, but to each their own. She had her own problems to work through and I wasn’t one to judge. She’d been a good friend to me.

 
“You’re right,” she said, her voice perking up, and she took a drink. “So next time I have an angry wife coming over to smash my face in with a golf club, I’m going to send them your way so you can reason with them.”

“What? Has that actually happened?” I asked.

“More times than you’d think.”

I rose up from my vanity chair and grabbed the box Vincent had given me from my closet. I should’ve opened it earlier to make sure whatever was in there fit, but I wasn’t sure if I was going to bail on him or not. Then Carrie had come over insisting I needed to go out and I caved.

She jumped up from my bed, and I set the box down on my sheets to open it. “Girl this dress is hot,” she said, when I carefully spread the dress out onto my bed.

We both stood to the side, admiring it. The black, floor length dress was stunning. Delicate beading spread down the chest, and the side. The back was completely bare, the fabric meeting back together and scrunching up at the base of my spine.

 
“Damn, the boy has taste,” she said, reaching for the tag. “And Gucci. I like him for you. You should have his babies.” She laughed when I smacked her shoulder.

She was right, Vincent was being the perfect gentleman with me. But he wanted something I couldn’t give him. Not to mention, I still wasn’t completely trusting. I didn’t know if he saw me as a game and would drop me after I gave it up to him. He was a playboy, and playboys don’t get their reputations for having long-term relationships.

I untied my robe and Carrie helped me slip into the dress. “By the way, what’s going on with him?” She asked, zipping me up on my side.

I shrugged, clasping a bracelet around my wrist. “Nothing.”

“Girl, he’s hot as hell. I don’t understand why you won’t give him a chance. You have to move on sooner or later. The best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. I know you loved Weston, but you can’t just give up on every guy. A girls got to get laid sooner or later.”

I’d drunkenly confessed about how Weston had broken my heart to her one night. I hadn’t told her everything, but she knew enough to not encourage me to get back with him.

“And I have a feeling he’s really going to be wanting to get under you tonight,” she said, turning me around to look in the floor length mirror. My hand flew to my mouth. I looked beautiful. The dress didn’t look slutty, or immature, I looked sexy but classy. “Every man in that place is going to be salivating over you.”

I laughed. “Yeah right, not the ones who know my rep.”

She took a swig of wine. “Guys don’t give a shit about girl’s rep. They only care about their bra size and how many dates it takes to get inside of their panties. And girls only care about other woman’s reps because they’re intimidated by them.”

My vanity vibrated as my phone began to ring. Carrie picked it up before I had the chance to. “It’s Vincent, he’s on his way up,” she told me, reading the text and grinning. “Go have fun, girl.”

CHAPTER THIRTY- FIVE
 

ELISE

 

 
“The dress looks even better than I imagined,” Vincent said in approval, letting out a loud whistle when I opened up my front door. “You look stunning, absolutely stunning.” He kissed me on the cheek and led me down stairs to the black limousine waiting outside.

He looked just as good. He was wearing another tailored black suit and a black bow tie around his neck. Girls were going to be fighting me off to go home with my date.

“Thanks,” I said, feeling shy as I ran my hand over my dress. “I love it.”

“Rodney, stay. I got it,” he said, stopping his driver from getting out of the car and opening the door for us. Rodney, a tall, older man, nodded his head and got back in the car.
 

Vincent opened up the door for me, allowing me to slide in, and scooted in behind me.

“Thank you for the dress really, I know it’s expensive,” I said, settling in my seat.

His face went soft. “You deserve it, babe.”

I jerked when he scooted closer, the warmth of his hand spreading over mine. “God, this is going to make me sound like such a pussy,” he groaned, running a hand through his hair. I looked over at him in confusion. “I know you’ve been going through some shit, you won’t tell me what, but I hope eventually you will. But I like you.
I mean, I really like you.”

I let out a fake laugh, trying to make light of the situation. Vincent had been a good friend to me, he’d been such a good guy, and I didn’t want to hurt him. I knew what it felt like to have someone hurt you.

“Do you say that you every girl you get in the back of your limo?” I asked, jokingly.
  

He chuckled. “Eh … I don’t usually do much talking in here.”

I had to give him credit for being honest. I wrinkled my nose and glanced around the large ten-
seater
. “Gross. Should I be sitting somewhere else, like up there with the driver, so I don’t get any of yours, or any else’s bodily fluids on me?”

He threw his head back. “You don’t have to worry about that. I get it professionally cleaned after each use.” He scratched his head. “I’ll give you time, babe. I know you need it, but know I’m here for you if you need anything. If you want to talk, if you need a friend, anything.”

I sighed. “Vincent, are you saying all of these things to get your hands in my panties?”

“You want me to be honest?”

“Of course, I want you to be honest.”

“I’d say fifty-fifty. I care about you, but I’d
love
to get into those panties, too. I can only imagine how good you’d feel, how good I’d feel, to be inside of you.” He looked down at our hands, and I could feel mine slowly start to sweat. “And someone likes dirty talk,” he said, grinning wide, and squeezing my hand. “I’ll keep that in mind for when the day comes.”

I shoved his side playfully, and groaned. “God, you are just so …”

“Sexy?”

“No.”

“Irresistible.”

“No.”

Heat crept up my cheeks when he grabbed my face and gently massaged my cheeks. He looked down at my red lips, mesmerized, before moving forward and brushing his lips against mine.

“I know you feel something for me, and I’ll wait until you realize it yourself,” he whispered against them, kissing me again and then pulling away. I ran my fingers over my lips in shock. Why hadn’t I stopped him? Why hadn’t I slapped him? I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t sure of anything anymore, but in that moment, maybe hanging out with Vincent wouldn’t be so bad.

“You think on that,” he continued, opening up the door when we’d made it the museum. “Stay by my side, and if you want to leave, I got you, babe,” Vincent whispered, grabbing my hand and walking me up the steps to the museum.

My stomach frazzled when we walked in and I scanned the area. My heart thudded against my chest as Vincent guided me through the packed crowd.

“Would you like something to eat or drink?” Vincent asked, keeping his hand in mine and looking over at me.

“Sure, I just need to use the restroom real quick,” I replied, still looking around the room for him. I wanted to do a survey of the premises before I got comfortable, making sure no one was there that I didn’t want to see.

“You want me to come with you?”

He frowned when I shook my head. “I’ll be fine.”

I crept shyly along the outside of the crowd to the bathroom and slammed the stall door shut. I needed a few minutes to myself before having a conversation with anyone. I was sure Vincent wanted to introduce me to his parents.

I angled my gaze and noticed all eyes on me when I walked out. Girls smearing lip-gloss onto their lips and fixing their hair were standing in front of the mirror and looking at me through the reflection in the glass with looks of disgust.

They knew who I was.

And they didn’t like me being there.

My forehead puckered and I moved to the other side of the vanity to wash my hands. I was just going to ignore them. Bitchy, venomous girls were the last
thing
I wanted to deal with right now.

“I can’t believe he came here with you,” one blonde spat angrily.

“Yeah, I know,” another agreed. “Vincent can do so much better, but he’s probably just using her, you know like every other guy does.”

“Well, believe it,” I said, giving them a sarcastic smile. I didn’t have the time for their jealous bullshit. I had bigger problems on my plate. “And he obviously wasn’t very satisfied with you, considering you’re in here whining about it in the bathroom and I’m the one by his side.”

I turned around and left the bathroom, ignoring their nasty insults at my back, and snatched a flute of champagne from a server on my way back to Vincent.

But I didn’t make it that far. I stopped dead in my tracks. Panic rose through me and I almost dropped my drink.

“I didn’t expect to see you here.”

CHAPTER THIRTY- SIX
 
 

WREN

 

Every muscle in her exposed back tensed at the sound of my voice. The rippling muscles moved in and out to match her heavy breathing. I held in a breath while waiting for her to turn around and look at me. We were so close, so close that I could stretch my arm out and run my fingers along her skin. But I was too terrified of what her reaction would be. I wasn’t allowed to touch her whenever I wanted now. She wasn’t mine anymore.

She acted like she hadn’t heard me, like I wasn’t there, like I was invisible. She wanted me to take the clue, back away and leave her alone.

Well, that wasn’t fucking happening.

I drank in the smooth contours of her body in the form-fitting dress that hugged tight to every one of her beautiful curves. I’d had that before. She’d been mine, and fuck, I missed that. I missed her. I needed her back.

Her dark mane was down, hanging loose around her shoulders in curls, and I had to stop
myself from reaching forward and running my hands through them
.

“Look at me, please,” I begged, blocking out the music and conversations of the people. They faded out, my gaze only seeing her. It was just the two of us.

She had to hear me out. She needed to hear my side of the story, and I was going to do everything in my power to convince her to. I’d beg. I’d get down on my knees and grovel for her forgiveness in front of the entire crowd. I’d throw out my pride, my masculinity, everything, if it meant she’d come back to me.

A month. It had been a month since I’d seen her, but she’d never left my mind. I’d been watching her. I was keeping up with her every move. I knew where she lived. I knew where she was working. I knew she’d be here with that Malone heir, and I’d be damned to let that asshole have what was mine.

No way, no fucking how.

Another minute passed.

Nothing.

I was beginning to lose hope.

“Please
,” I begged again.

“I’d rather not,” she replied, sternly. Her hand tightened around the champagne flute. “I don’t have anything to say to you.”

“You don’t have to say anything. Let me do the talking,” I pleaded. This was my only chance. I didn’t know if I’d have this opportunity again.
 

My heart galloped like a stampede when she slowly turned around to face me. My shoulders slumped, and I felt like shit as I stared into her resentful eyes. Her champagne wet lips were puckered into a scowl of hate, grouping me along with all of the other men who’d hurt her.

I cleared my throat, trying to turn up the best words to express the feelings running through my mind before she turned around and left my ass in the dust.

“Hey there, I’ve been looking everywhere for you. I was beginning to think you bailed on me.”

Fuck, another strike against me.

I clinched my jaw when Wendy came to my side and looped her arm around mine. This wasn’t going to look good. I’d finally,
possibly,
had the chance to talk to her, and it was about to backfire in my face. I wanted to flick Wendy off my arm like a fly, but I slowly slid my arm out of hers and took a deep breath.

I didn’t look over at Wendy. I kept my eyes on Elise, watching her straighten her stance at Wendy’s presence with her glare growing harder.

“Oh, hi Elise,” Wendy greeted, noticing the face off between the two of us.

Elise downed the rest of her drink. “Hey Wendy,” she said, tightly, refusing to look at either one of us.

I coughed, hoping Wendy would get the hint that this wasn’t a good time. Thankfully, Wendy was smart. She clapped her hands together. “I’m going to go check on your mom or do … something,” she said, slowly and scurried away.

Elise’s face reddened, matching the hue of her lipstick. “You sure moved on pretty quick, huh?” She shook her head, grabbing another glass of champagne from a waiter walking by. “Were you two dating the entire time you were playing me?”

“Playing you?” I repeated, rubbing the back of my neck roughly. She didn’t say anything. “Wendy and I are nothing, I’m only here for my mom.” And her. “She’s divorcing my dad and having a hard time adjusting to life on her own. I haven’t been to one of these events in years, but I didn’t want to let her down. She’s going through too much. She needs to get out and start moving on with her life. She needs to forget about my scum-bag father.” My mouth tasted bitter. I hated even calling him my father. He was a piece of shit.

“You came here for your mother, but you brought a date?” She asked, a sneer obvious in her tone.

Wendy wasn’t even my date. She’d driven my mom to the event, and they’d met me here. She was coming as a supporter for my mom because she’d known my family for over a decade. She wasn’t there on my account.
 

“I’m not the only one here with a date,” I fired back, saliva building up in the back of my throat.
 
The thought of his, or anyone’s, hands on her made me sick to my stomach.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but Vincent and I are just friends.”

“Same thing with me and Wendy.” I lowered my voice and took a step closer. “Do you know he’s here?”

She hung her head low. She wanted to look around for him, but she was either too scared or didn’t want me to know she cared. “I didn’t.”

I noticed him the second I walked in. He stayed away, but I knew he saw me. I wasn’t sure if he knew Elise was there, but I didn’t want him finding out and coming near her.

“If you want to go, we can,” I said.

She crossed her arms, lifting her chin. “Are you telling me that so I’ll leave with you?” She shook her head. “I see you’re still a manipulative asshole. Using my weakness for your gain.”
 

I threw my hands out to the side and exhaled a rush of breath. “Do you really think I’d do something like that?” I tapped the side of my head with my finger harshly. “You know I never used you.” And it pissed me off she’d even say something like that.

“I don’t know that. I feel like I don’t even who you are. You sold yourself out to him, so pardon me, if I refuse to believe a word that comes out of your mouth now.”

I shut my eyes for a second. “Everything I’ve told you, every goddamn thing, has been the truth. If you’d let me explain.”

Her face crimsoned with more anger. “Omission is the same as lying.”

“I wanted to tell you.”

“Then why didn’t you?”

“I wanted to wait.”

“Wait until when?”

My voice went soft. “Until you loved me enough.”

She flinched, my words hitting her like a ton of bricks. “What does that even mean?” She cried out, grabbing the attention of people around us, but she didn’t care. She took a step forward to stab her finger into my chest. “Don’t you dare try that psychological bullshit on me.

I took a deep breath. “I wanted to tell you when I knew you were completely in love with me. I wanted that love and trust to understand why I made that decision.
 
I wanted you to love me so deeply that you wouldn’t leave, and you’d forgive me for making a stupid mistake years ago. I was waiting until you loved me as much as I love you.” My heart pounded against my chest at my admission.

Her mouth fell open, all of the color draining from her face. “We’ve known each other for what, like a month?” She shuffled back a few steps. “There’s no love here,” she said, her voice scathed.

“I know you were in love with me.” I took another deep breath of courage. “I know you’re still in love with me,” I added, taking a risk.

“Then why? Why didn’t you tell me?” I was right. I could tell by her eyes. She loved me, and us being apart still hadn’t changed that. Even after everything that had happened, she still loved me.

“I knew you were in love with me, but I didn’t know how much reach I had inside your heart. You were still healing from all of the shit he’d put you through. I wanted you to know me better so you wouldn’t think I was like him.”

“But you are.”

I shook my head. “I’m nothing like him.” I took a step forward to replace the ones she’d taken away from me.

“Sure fooled me.”

I took another step on precaution, waiting for her reaction, but she didn’t move away. “I would never purposely hurt you. I’ve risked for you. I’ve risked my career, my family, everything for you. And I’d do it again in a heartbeat. I’d choose you over everything and anyone.”

“If you’ve had to risk everything for me, then obviously we’re no good for each other.”

“You come first. I can always find another job. I can start over. I can make everything right in my life if I have you by my side.”

“I thought you got lost in the bathroom,” Vincent said, approaching her.

Great, now her date was interrupting us. Why the hell did either of us even have other dates?
 

My face melted in horror when his arm curled around her chest and he tugged her into his side. Elise didn’t move away from him, but she also didn’t move any closer. I wanted to snap his fucking hand off of her.
 

 
“I ran into an old friend,” Elise said, sending me a sarcastic smile.

He looked up and noticed me. “Oh hey man, what’s going on?” Vincent asked. “I haven’t seen you around in ages.”

I knew Vincent. We’d actually gone to the same private school together, but I left that life when Wale died.

I scratched my neck. “Yeah, I kind of left this world behind me.”

He shook his head in understanding. “I don’t blame you.” He signaled to Elise and me with his chin. “How do you two know each other?”

“We met through my father,” Elise answered before I had the chance to tell him the truth.

I clenched my teeth together. “Actually, we dated,” I corrected, looking directly at Vincent. I had nothing against him personally, but when it came to the woman I loved, I had a problem with anyone who interfered.

Vincent released his hold from Elise, obviously getting the point. “Seriously?” He asked in shock.

“We didn’t exactly date,” Elise said. “We went out a few times.”

I shook my head. “No, we definitely dated.”

“Alright,” Vincent drew, clearly uncomfortable, and not sure what to do next. He liked her, but was contemplating whether he wanted to fight for her.
 

“And we’re in love,” I added with a punch, stressing the last word and glaring at him to make my warning clear.
 

Vincent’s eyes bulged and he smirked. “I get it, I get it,” he said, nodding his head my way. “You two obviously have some shit to work out. I could compete with you anytime for a woman, Snyder, but not when it comes to love. Love makes people fucking crazy.” His mouth went to Elise’s ear to whisper something and she nodded.

He pulled away and drew a finger my way. “If you piss her off and she wants to leave, I’m taking her.”

“That won’t be happening,” I said, my jaw ticking.

She stood still when he walked away. She could’ve left with him, but she didn’t. That gave me some hope.

“Was that really necessary?” She snapped, crossing her arms across her chest.

I shrugged. “People need to know you’re off the market.”

She tossed her hands in the air and champagne splashed from her glass. “Newsflash, I am on the market.”

“How can you be on the market when you’re mine?”

“I’m not yours,” she said, around a huff. “I belong to nobody.”

Shit, those weren’t the best words to use. “You’re right, I don’t
own
you. I own
your heart.
You know it’s damn true, so good luck trying to give it to someone else because it knows
who
it belongs to. Your brain might try to think something different, it may try to tell you that you’ve moved on from me, but it all comes down to your heart. And that my love, is mine.” I grinned wide. “But don’t worry, you have mine, too.”

She bit into her cheek. “You really need to stop saying things like that.”

“I need to quit being honest?”

“Please.” Her hand splayed out in front of me. “Just stop.”

“Leave with me. We’ll figure this out. At least give me the chance to explain myself.” I needed to figure how to get her the hell out of there for two reasons.

1. Her dad was lingering around, and I was sure he’d spot her through the crowd. I didn’t want him going to her.

2. This was the wrong place to talk. We needed privacy.

“Shit,” I hissed, spotting Clint coming our way over Elise’s back. I snatched her arm and pulled her though the crowd while ignoring her protests.

She jerked, smacking at my arm to pull away from my hold, but I didn’t let up. I pushed through a door and we landed in an empty room.

 
“What the hell is wrong with you?” She shrieked, yanking away from me.

“Text Vincent. Tell him you’re leaving,” I demanded.

She looked like she was close to punching me in my face. “Absolutely not. I can’t just leave my date. Are you crazy?”

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