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Authors: Clarissa Black
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to?” he said in a
low voice, his eyes still averted.
I laughed. Was he joking?
“I have to have you, Miri ,”
he said. He stepped closer to my desk and came around to my side. His hand
reached down and pulled me up to a standing position, face to face with him. “I
always get what I want. It’s what I do.”
“Why me?” I asked. “You barely know me.
I’m just some girl who looks like your ex-girlfriend. I’m just some thirteen
year old girl who used to daydream about kissing you.”
He shook his head, frustrated, and
probably trying to figure out how to dig himself out of that giant crater of a
hole he’d made.
“You put me in her old office, you dress
me in her clothes, you take me to your special restaurant…” my voice trailed
down to nothing. “What am I supposed to think?”
“You’re not her,” he said. His hands
slipped down around my hips. “And thank God for that.”
“We’re walking a fine line here,” I
replied. I felt safe in his space, but at the same time blurring those lines
was dangerous and potentially lethal to my career. “I don’t want to be another Sapphire
Hart.”
“Just don’t lie to me and you won’t be,”
he replied, pressing his lips hard onto mine.
SIXTEEN
PRESTON
“Here you are, sir,” the older man in the
gray suit behind the jewelry case said as he handed me a small envelope.
I unfastened the envelope and dumped the
contents into my hand: Mirabelle’s diamond pendant on a brand new, 14k gold
chain.
“Perfect,” I said to the man. I pulled
out my wallet and slid him my Amex.
That night, after dinner at Giatta’s , I’d sent Mirabelle home in a cab and headed back
to the office. I crawled around on my hands and knees for hours looking for
that pendant, her grandmother’s diamond, until I found it wedged into some dark
crevice underneath her desk. I almost missed it until I caught a glint of the
reflection of the moon that poured in through the window.
I signed the receipt and shoved the
envelope in the interior pocket of my suit jacket and imagined the look on her
face when I’d give it to her. I loved seeing her smile, and the way her face
lit up was nothing short of magical.
I stepped out to the sidewalk, leaving
the jewelry store in the distance, and rounded the next corner. Up ahead, a
woman with long, ash blonde hair was strutting along the sidewalk. I squinted
my eyes. I’d recognize those curves anywhere. I picked
up my pace, trying to inch closer to her, when she stopped dead in her tracks
at a garbage can. As she moved to the side, I saw a little girl with her. The
girl couldn’t have been much older than three, and she clung onto Mirabelle’s
hand tightly, staring up at her adoringly as Mirabelle unwrapped some sort of
food item and broke off a piece for the little girl. I didn’t have to be any
closer to see they shared identical smiles and the same big, doe eyes.
She fucking lied to me. I told her not to
lie and she did. She never mentioned she had a kid.
I thought about all those long nights she
spent holed up in the office with me. She was always the first one to arrive
and the last one to leave, well, besides me. The thought of Mirabelle
neglecting her child in the name of her career left me disgusted. I’d been that
kid. I’d experienced that first hand, and in more ways than one…
I slipped back behind the cover of an
awning and hoped she wouldn’t see me. She and the little girl carried on and
went about their way. I waited until I could barely see them again before
emerging and heading to the office.
My feet stomped the pavement, angrily, as
memories of Sapphire Hart replaced the vision of Mirabelle and her daughter. It
was happening all over again.
“What’s this?” I asked Sapphire one night
after dinner. She’d left her phone out on the table and someone named
low voice, his eyes still averted.
I laughed. Was he joking?
“I have to have you, Miri ,”
he said. He stepped closer to my desk and came around to my side. His hand
reached down and pulled me up to a standing position, face to face with him. “I
always get what I want. It’s what I do.”
“Why me?” I asked. “You barely know me.
I’m just some girl who looks like your ex-girlfriend. I’m just some thirteen
year old girl who used to daydream about kissing you.”
He shook his head, frustrated, and
probably trying to figure out how to dig himself out of that giant crater of a
hole he’d made.
“You put me in her old office, you dress
me in her clothes, you take me to your special restaurant…” my voice trailed
down to nothing. “What am I supposed to think?”
“You’re not her,” he said. His hands
slipped down around my hips. “And thank God for that.”
“We’re walking a fine line here,” I
replied. I felt safe in his space, but at the same time blurring those lines
was dangerous and potentially lethal to my career. “I don’t want to be another Sapphire
Hart.”
“Just don’t lie to me and you won’t be,”
he replied, pressing his lips hard onto mine.
SIXTEEN
PRESTON
“Here you are, sir,” the older man in the
gray suit behind the jewelry case said as he handed me a small envelope.
I unfastened the envelope and dumped the
contents into my hand: Mirabelle’s diamond pendant on a brand new, 14k gold
chain.
“Perfect,” I said to the man. I pulled
out my wallet and slid him my Amex.
That night, after dinner at Giatta’s , I’d sent Mirabelle home in a cab and headed back
to the office. I crawled around on my hands and knees for hours looking for
that pendant, her grandmother’s diamond, until I found it wedged into some dark
crevice underneath her desk. I almost missed it until I caught a glint of the
reflection of the moon that poured in through the window.
I signed the receipt and shoved the
envelope in the interior pocket of my suit jacket and imagined the look on her
face when I’d give it to her. I loved seeing her smile, and the way her face
lit up was nothing short of magical.
I stepped out to the sidewalk, leaving
the jewelry store in the distance, and rounded the next corner. Up ahead, a
woman with long, ash blonde hair was strutting along the sidewalk. I squinted
my eyes. I’d recognize those curves anywhere. I picked
up my pace, trying to inch closer to her, when she stopped dead in her tracks
at a garbage can. As she moved to the side, I saw a little girl with her. The
girl couldn’t have been much older than three, and she clung onto Mirabelle’s
hand tightly, staring up at her adoringly as Mirabelle unwrapped some sort of
food item and broke off a piece for the little girl. I didn’t have to be any
closer to see they shared identical smiles and the same big, doe eyes.
She fucking lied to me. I told her not to
lie and she did. She never mentioned she had a kid.
I thought about all those long nights she
spent holed up in the office with me. She was always the first one to arrive
and the last one to leave, well, besides me. The thought of Mirabelle
neglecting her child in the name of her career left me disgusted. I’d been that
kid. I’d experienced that first hand, and in more ways than one…
I slipped back behind the cover of an
awning and hoped she wouldn’t see me. She and the little girl carried on and
went about their way. I waited until I could barely see them again before
emerging and heading to the office.
My feet stomped the pavement, angrily, as
memories of Sapphire Hart replaced the vision of Mirabelle and her daughter. It
was happening all over again.
“What’s this?” I asked Sapphire one night
after dinner. She’d left her phone out on the table and someone named
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