Page 19 of Still Her
He’s got me. I admit I don’t know enough to be certain if what he’s saying is legit, and I don’t know what to do, or how to respond. I look down and grind my teeth together.
“Why are you doing this?” I finally ask, my voice small and wavering.
“I told you. I want you to feel good with me.”What.The. Fuck?“I like to be friends with my clients and I wouldn’t be a very good friend to the front man of Turn it Up if I didn’t make sure his wife was taken care of, now would I?”
“I have Jack to do that,” and he has no idea just how seriously Jack takes that role.
“I’m not so sure of that. He has a very demanding career.”
“And yet, I am taken care of a million times over,” I say, crossing my arms, trying to dismiss him. I’m sure my slouched shoulders and inability to look up from the floor don’t make me look very convincing.
“I think we can do better,” he pushes, but thankfully, starts backing away, stopping just shy of the door to the lounge. “The Superbowl gig is really something isn’t?” he asks, examining his expensive pointy shoes before looking back up at me. I make no response. “It’d be a shame if that fell through wouldn’t it?” His tone of voice is so odd. He doesn’t sound threatening; more conversational than anything.
A dark shadow just dropped over my world, and I feel like a cold hand just took hold of my heart.
“Are you saying you’ll pull them if I don’t let you get what you want from me?”
“Oh, I don’t think Iactuallysaidanythinglike that at all. Did I?”
Shit. He didn’t.
A look of wonder comes over his face. “You love him so much.” A hint of pity enters his voice, as if he’s talking to someone who has no choice; someone who has already lost. “I know you’ll do anything for him and his career, so I think our little chat should stay between us, baby.”
My head snaps up. “Don’t call me that!” That’s what Jack calls me. Except when he’s being tender, then it’sSweetheart. No one else gets to call me that. It’s ours.
“SorryKitten, but as I was saying, it’d be better for Jack if he didn’t know about this,” he gestures a finger between me and himself, “if you want what’s best for him and that band of his that is.”
I feel disgusting. My entire insides feel dark and cold. I feel covered in Eli’s sliminess from just being in his presence… now that his true nature is showing. I want to shrivel up in a corner.
Taking my stunned silence as a victory, Eli reaches for the door lock and unclicks it before pulling it open. “I’ll see you soon,” he smirks. And then he’s gone.
The breath I didn’t know I’d been holding puffs out of me, and I scramble to replace it. I gasp in big, rapid breaths, trying like hell to calm myself, to regulate my breathing and bring my heartrate down. I go from feeling cold to hot, and I can feel my face flushing. I can’t calm down. My body is making it clear I need to panic. I hold a hand to my sternum, feeling like my heart will jump out of my chest if I don’t. I push off the wall and take four quick, teetering steps towards the door and throw the lock, closing myself in. I slump down on the couch and put my head between my knees, trying to coach myself through some breathing.
He threatened to sabotage Turn it Up. He didn’t say it outright, but he made sure I caught on to his underlying sentiment. Everything he said had a hidden meaning, veiled thin enough for me to understand but not blatant enough to be used against him. For him to be so good at vague threats, he must have had a lot of practice. That thought doesn’t soothe me at all.
My hands rake into my hair as I try to close my mind off to everything except my breathing. I don’t know how many minutes pass before my breathing stabilizes. I realize I’m rocking, trying to sooth myself, and I try to psyche myself up to go back out there and look for Jack. I just can’t bring myself to go find him, knowing Eli is out there milling about.
I stay put, hoping no one else stumbles upon this restroom, having faith that Jack will find me. That self-absorbed, arrogant, chauvinistic, needle-dick asshole said not to tell Jack what just went down.
Fuckthat.
JACK
I polish off my second Johnny Walker and ask the server for a tonic water. I didn’t check what time Mayzie left to go to the ladies’ room, but it’s been a while. I glance around the room and over my shoulder to the room’s main entrance.
“You know,” Josh speaks up from my left side, “it’s okay if she’s out of your sight for more than five minutes.” He’s giving me a compassionate smirk, but I glare at him. He holds his hands up in surrender and smiles like a teenager. “I know, I know… I don’t know what it’s like to feel that way about someone, I get it,” he finishes with a roll of his eyes.
One of our other table mates sits down, a woman in a blue dress who I think may be the wife of one of the tycoons that’s bank rolling this thing.
“Excuse me,” I address her, trying to be polite, though I’ve forgotten her name. “Did you happen to see my wife out there anywhere?”
“No, but it was a total mob in the ladies’ and the line was insane.” She rolls her eyes. “I’m sure she’s in there somewhere.”
I wait another five minutes and decide she’s been gone too long. I stand up, surprised to see Josh stand up with me. I give him a questioning look.
“I’ll help you look,” he says before leaning in to quietly mumble, “I could use a break from this crowd anyway.” We take a quick look around the ballroom from where we stand. I spot Eli, schmoozing a group in the corner nearest the room’s entrance. His date is at his side and not looking the least bit like she wants to be here.
“No shit, me too. I say we find her and get the hell out of here.”