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My fingers wrapped around the mask and I cursed softly. I couldn't let her go. Even though she'd chosen to leave me, I couldn't accept it. I wanted to keep my Kitty. I wanted to have her back.
And I knew then and there I wouldn't stop hunting her until she was finally mine again.Chapter 17
Amicia
Eleven months later
Almost a year had passed since I left Grayson Kline's London penthouse in tears. I thought the memories would fade faster, but it seems as if the old wounds will never heal. As I walk through the streets of my favorite city in the world that day, huddling into my coat, I find myself wishing I'd never closed the door on our relationship.
Yes, it was awful what happened because of Grayson. But I'd played a role in it too, and the only person I'd blamed when I left was him, even though there was just as much guilt on my own shoulders.
The freezing cold made me shiver as I came up to my apartment building. It had been a long year with a lot of changes, most of them for the better. Now that I had more money, I could finally afford better things, including my apartment which was small, but cozy. It wasn't quite as nice as Mr. Kline's penthouse, but I was perfectly happy with it.
Still, the worst of it all was the overwhelming loneliness I felt every day. Since I'd stopped dancing at Le Cabaret, I hadn't kept in touch with any of my friends from back there. I didn't hear from Capri after the auction either, which made me worried. I hoped she was okay, but there wasn't much I could do for her, not anymore. Not without Grayson.
I put on the kettle and made myself a cup of tea. I had a date that night, my first since the Grayson ordeal. I had a new job at a restaurant then. The tips were good and the clientele was much better than I was used to. But I hadn't really made friends there. Still, one of the bartenders liked me enough to ask me out, and I found myself agreeing. It was the time of year when I hated being lonely. The memory of Grayson was still overwhelming, so I welcomed the distraction of a new man.
His name was Ross, and he was tall, with blonde hair and blue eyes. I liked the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, and the dimples in his cheeks. I wasn't sure how successful our date would be, but I was excited to find out if Ross would be able to make me forget about Grayson for the night.
I got ready, putting on a simple jewel-toned purple dress with knitted tights and black heeled boots. I put on my new coat—with buttons, what a relief—and added a grey scarf. Ross and I were meeting at the restaurant which was only a block away. For some reason, I hadn't felt comfortable enough to give him my address just yet. As I walked briskly through the November cold, I found myself wondering why I was so reluctant to share with Ross.
Ross was already waiting by the time I got to the restaurant. He kissed my cheek and we smiled at one another a little awkwardly.
"So where are we going?" I asked.
"I thought here would be perfect," he grinned.
"Mario's?" I glanced at the restaurant behind us. "Oh, okay. Sure."
I was a little disappointed but I did my best not to let it show. I didn't want him to know I was stuck-up or something. But the truth was, I'd spent most of my time at Mario's and I was dreading spending another minute in that place. But I swallowed back my reply and followed him into the room. Our coworkers smiled and led us to an empty table in a good spot.
"Best table in town," Ross joked, and I gave him a tense smile.
He ordered the food for us without asking for my preference. I didn't argue, though I already had a feeling this date wasn't going well. For the next hour while we made our way through our appetizers and main courses, Ross talked about himself. He didn't ask me anything about myself and an hour into the date, I'd already written it off as a disaster.
My eyes wandered from Ross animatedly chatting about his pitbull in front of me, and I found myself thinking of the one person I'd tried the hardest to banish from my thoughts—Grayson Kline.
I couldn't help it. I hadn't imagined our connection—I knew he felt it, too. But in the past eleven months, Grayson had made no attempt to contact me. He'd probably moved on already. He had the wealth and resources to find a new toy, someone more agreeable than I had been.
