Watching You: KJ Elite Inc. (2 page)

“If I tell you...” He raised his eyebrows and wiggled them jokingly.

He gave me a kiss on my cheek, opened my truck door and helped me in. He might be from the city but he treated me just as well as any southern gentlemen ever had.

“Drive safe sweetheart and for the love of all things dear, lock your doors!” Matt closes my door and stands back as I drive out of the garage. Through the past five years, I could count on Matt for any and everything. Though I have kept my past life, essentially half of me, hidden from the whole world. In all cases, I am known as Taylor Ann Kane, but no one necessarily knew whether it was Ms. or Mrs. and as far as I’m concerned it ain’t any of their damn business. Just minutes after leaving him, I receive a text from Matt that reads:

Gift coming for you, enjoy! ;) :*

Matty’s presents weren’t always something I looked forward to. He had a tendency to send men to take me on dates. Any straight man he could find that was decently good looking would be sent my way in a stretch limo, dressed to the nines, holding a bottle of whatever the driver had on stock. Whenever I complain, Matt simply tells me to cowgirl up and quit complaining and to, at very least, be thankful they’re straight men who will fuck me silly.

I’m shaking my head, smiling, knowing he can’t see me but he means well. I simply don’t have the time to worry about men, nor the desire and none could ever come close to the man who holds my heart anyway, should I be tempted. Though I’m still quite young, I don’t need to, per say, sow any wild oats, as far as men are concerned.

I’d had my one true love, my whirlwind, breakneck, fairytale romance and want or need for nothing. I mean, if need be, I will always have my memories which have produced some wonderfully full and somewhat graphic romance novels, not to mention wildly successful. My thoughts drift back to the stupid fat folder sitting on my passenger seat and just as quickly as the thoughts come, I kick them back out, half tempted to throw the folder out the window while driving on E 79
th
Street, passing Lexington Avenue. I always lose myself in the architecture of the buildings and walking or taking a cab would be easier for me to take it all in, but I can’t do that to my Ole’ Bessie girl. I pat her dash and crank the radio to the first and only country station that the country God’s descended upon NYC and made right just so very recently.

Pulling in front of the old converted warehouse that is now my too-large apartment, there was no limo, though in front of my door there were the monthly, enormous bouquet of multicolored tulips and even better box of chocolates. Ferrero Rocher to be exact, my number one favorite. I have no clue from where or whom they came, but a woman was not going to complain about chocolate or pretty flowers! Both, actually, are my favorite and I had always figured it for a coincidence since both are popular selections. This started after my first book was published and kept constant ever since, every month, for five and a half years, even after my move.

“I could definitely use the chocolate today!” I sigh to myself and drag my sluggish body up the stairs. Along with the flowers and chocolate were two big boxes and a bag of letters. Despite the digital era, I try to stick to the traditional methods of contact. I always encourage my fans to write letters if they fancy and make it a priority to take the time to always respond. It feels more personal and sincere to the people who took the time out of their lives to escape with one of my “babies” and find solace or adventure in the words. Which is exactly why I have always wanted to write. There is nothing better in my mind, than finding a book you cannot wait to dive into and then cannot put down. After the book ends, you simply feel like a part of you has ended. A cup of tea, a cozy bed or couch and I was set!

Who needs men?
Me, me, pick me!
A sad little voice shouts in my head. That love affair five and a half years ago had fueled a lifetime of dreams, memories and certainly characters, plots and love in my books. Plenty of steam to go around and hopefully will never go away; for that, I’d always be grateful. Even if he hadn’t come for me. Or contacted me.

“Oh, mystery person. You always know when I need the chocolate fix. God Bless You!” I blew a kiss to the heavens and unlocked my front door, loading all the things in through the front door. Okay, so there was some kicking involved, but I was mostly gentle.

“I should get a do...” Cut off as I trip over the bag I was struggling with and fly onto my face. “It takes skill to be this clumsy. I could seriously go pro.” Always talking to no one, which led me back to my original thought.

“I
need
a dog.”  Standing up carefully, I wave at the neighbor who was half in and half out of her door across the building, getting her paper, now standing to see if I’m alright.

“Nosy ass neighbors wouldn’t realize I’m always talking to myself,” I mumbled then raised my voice, “Hi Mrs. Jenkins! Lovely day! Hope you get to take advantage of it. Your garden is looking wonderful upstairs!” She smiled a million dollar smile, which generally, if it cost a million dollars was fake as hell in this city. Waving, I backed into my door, eyeing her across the way, which made up the other half of the building on our level, and finally closed my door before she played her favorite game: 1 Million questions about Taylor’s life.

I cursed the day I ever acted on how I was raised and took a plate of goodies over too that blue haired busybody.

 “And why in the hell is she gardening on a rooftop in NYC in November anyways? Hello!” Dropping my chin to my chest, I let a loud blow of hot air and laugh awkwardly at myself. “Seriously, I need a dog. I talk to myself way too much.”  Jumping at the sound of my phone ringing in my back pocket, I roll my eyes at myself and pull it out. Unknown. Huh. This was also a new recurrence.

Answering, I sweetly say, “Hello?”

Nothing.

Creeptastic much?

“Hello? Is someone there?”

Breathing. Well if that didn’t make it scary, I didn’t know what did.

“Okay, I’m gonna hang up now.”

Still silence. Give em’ Hell Tennessee. “Have a great day if you can hear me!”

I always did like to end things on a positive note. I figure I could use all the good karma I can get and mama would beat me senseless otherwise, regardless of my age.
You’re never too old to fit over my knee baby, don’t you forget that.
Her mamas words, exactly. Speaking of mama, I should give her a call. Seriously, I ought to win an award for smallest attention span, ever. Between my attention span and my constant gravity checks, I am really racking the awards up.

“Siri, remind me tomorrow at noon to go to the shelter and find a good dog.” I love my
personal assistant. Thank God for the iPhone. My phone rings again and I don’t even need to look at the screen. I can tell it is Matt by the custom ringtone, courtesy of Matt recording his own voice shouting, “HELPPPP she has me trapped in her pocket!!!!!” filling the silence of my way too-large loft. We may have been drunk when he made it. I’ve actually scared a few people in the supermarket and other places when it went off. You just can’t help but laugh hysterically when you see an old lady frightened because she truly thought I might be holding someone or something talking, prisoner in my pocket.

“Hey handsome.”

“Hey beautiful.” I could hear him smile.

“What’s up?”

Plopping down onto my chaise lounge in the entryway corner, I pop open my big box of chocolates and throw my head back indulging in heaven.

“Change of plans. I’m done here early, your present backed out and I am hungry, sober and bored.”

“I’ll have to order in then. No, not sushi. I’ll cut you. Door is open, just come on in.”

“You seriously have to stop doing that Tay. This isn’t little Huckleberry or whatever. There are crazies in the world and they will just walk into your house and hurt you!”

“I’m fine and it’s Mayberry.” I correct him keeping my head laid back and my eyes closed. Savoring the magnificent taste of ecstasy. Honestly, someone has to have a serious defect if they don’t love chocolate. It should be a sin! Is there a committee you could appeal to regarding the bible and request a new commandment; thou shalt not deny chocolate.  I'll be sure to look into that...

“I’ll be there in 30.”

“Drive safe.” He yelled something at the car in front of him, and was gone.

“Yes, just like that.” I laugh and lay the phone down next to me on the little table holding my keys and change.

I dozed off, curled up on my chaise, dreaming magical dreams. My favorite kind of dreams, where a lady was liable to wake up soaking wet in all the right places, with a need in her bones only one thing in this world could satisfy. For me, that was Tommy freakin’ Kane, so I tried to avoid these dreams. Like I could. This time around, they caught the best of me and had me warped in the worst kind; in a deep sleep I couldn’t claw my way out of if I tried. Bodies lashing together and skin wet with sweat, his strong and capable arms gliding up my bare thighs and heating me at his touch. His fingers danced on my clit and coaxed me into a magical, intoxicating buzz. His tongue followed his fingers and I felt myself hit a glorious, floating high, about to scream out his very name when Matt shook my arm and pulled me away from sweet ecstasy.

Chapter 2

“I could kill you right now, and the jury would let me get away with it.” I moaned, eyes closed.

Matt opened the door further and announced his royal arrival, nearly falling on top of me when he fails to spot the mail I left right inside the door.

“This is New York City, not England, but thanks.” I welcome him groggily and wipe the drool and chocolate off that I’m sure were sliding down my chin, shaking the need from my body.

“It doesn’t matter where I am, I should be announced, always.”  He takes a royal bow.

“Oh, you’re so dramatic.”

“I’m from Hollywood sweetheart, it’s in my DNA.”

“I’m sorry, I fell asleep. I didn’t get a chance to order food yet.” I throw him a frowny face for sympathy and instead he points at my face and has no shame announcing my chocolate facial.

“I see. You have a little...” he pointed to his face, indicating the corner of the mouth. “Right there. You might want to wipe that off.” Of course I wouldn’t have gotten it all.

I set the chocolates on my lap to wipe off my face. Matt opens my door again and points to the front of it, over my peep hole.

“Don’t worry, I’ll call and order. Did you miss this?”

A little white envelope was hanging there with a piece of tape holding it on the door and he snatches it off for me as I shrug my shoulders.  

“I may have. I swore I got it all but you know me.”

“Yes, I do. Which is why you have me! Attention to detail only translates over into your books. The rest of your life needs a little, well, a lot of Matty in it.” He winks and strolls off into the kitchen. “Oh, you bought alcohol on your way home, good.” I hear him call and frown, knowing I sure as hell didn’t buy anything with alcohol in it. Not that I wasn’t up for some, I just didn’t buy it.

“I didn’t buy any. I haven’t bought anything with an alcohol content in over 2 weeks. Trust me, I would remember that.” I slid my finger in the envelope to open it as I crossed the way to the open kitchen and pull out a stool from under my big, dreamy, kitchen island. Sure enough there was whiskey. Not just one bottle, but two of my favorite. Odd. “Huh.”

“Huh? That’s all you have to say?” He grunts at me with frustration and I know he’s trying to hide his rising concern.

Ignoring him, I pull out a blank card and am instantly filled with dread as I read the same message I keep receiving:

My darling, you’ve done so well!

I’ll be watching you, cheers
.

I immediately drop the card to the floor and take a giant step back like it was infected with a horrific disease that was transferred by touch. Taking a hint, Matt puts the bottle down and two steps it over to me with fear in bright red marker written all over his handsome face. I reach to pick it up realizing I’ve spooked him but don’t even get a full step before he grabs for me and pulls me back into his side.

“Go lock the door.”

“What do you mean, go lock the door? Clearly this dude has already been in my house!”

With that realization, he pulls me a little closer to him while we alternate between looking at the typed card like it will bite us and around the loft for some kind of mystery person to pop out.

“What did I say to you about leaving your door unlocked? You were passed out on your chaise lounge while this pervert could have been taking advantage of you or robbing you blind.”

“Point made, note taken. Lock the doors from now on.” I gulp dramatically and nod my head vigorously.

“We need to call the cops.”

“No, Matt. It’s just a little incident, I’m sure it will blow over.”