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She laughs, low and teasing, and then she lifts herself up on her tiptoes and presses her lips to mine. “So am I, remember?” she murmurs and kisses me harder.
I raise my hands to her upper arms, ready to gently push her away, when I hear someone clearing their throat nearby. Shit.
I spring away from Vanessa and look toward the door.
The first thing I see is Poppy. And though most people wouldn’t recognize it, I can tell between the raised eyebrow and the set of her jaw that she is utterly pissed. I’m already heading toward her to explain when I notice a small figure come up to stand beside her. Micah.
“Hey, buddy,” I say to Micah.
For some reason, this only seems to piss Poppy off more. She gives me a cold glare and puts her hand on Micah’s shoulder, gently leading him away and into one of the other parts of the gallery. She doesn’t even give me a backward glance, and my heart lurches. My gut twists. She knows he’s my son.
“Your new toy is a bit young, Nathaniel,” Vanessa purrs, and I catch the edge to her tone. Vanessa might come off as a bimbo, at the best of times, but she’s from a wealthy family and is educated. She’s smart enough to call out sexual tension when she sees it. “Not the smartest idea for a man of your position and wealth—to play with girls barely out of high school.”
“Mind your own business,” I mutter, and then I take off, heading toward the doorway to find Poppy and Micah.
Damn Vanessa for being so clingy.
Damn Mrs. Henderson for bailing on Micah today.
But most of all, damn my own stupidity for not at least telling Poppy about Micah so she wouldn’t be surprised by something like this.
Then another realization hits me. If Vanessa saw so easily that there was something going on between Poppy and I, does that mean others have too? Roberto? Bruce even?
Could this single event be the start of a shitstorm that I’m not sure I can weather?
Chapter Eleven
Poppy
I’m standing in Nathaniel’s office. His son, Micah, is sitting in one of the chairs, legs dangling, kicking back and forth while he waits for his dad.
His dad.
Son of a bitch.
I am officially the biggest idiot on the planet, and Nathaniel’s the biggest jackass on the planet. I should have known better. Someone that rich, that good-looking, that smooth—of course, he’s a cheater. A manipulator. They know just how to twist you, just how to wrap you around their little finger. They get what they want, and they don’t care about how their actions affect anyone else.
I know because I know my dad. Until my mom died, he never felt a single damn bit of remorse over what he’d done… what I’d witnessed him doing. And I should have goddamn known better. I was the floozie bent over the desk this time. I’ve been in Micah’s shoes before, and I feel like shit. I can’t meet his eyes.
Great. I’m a coward and a home wrecker.
And who was that woman downstairs anyway? His wife? His girlfriend? His lover? Well, his other lover? Any one of those options makes me feel sick.
I hear footsteps coming toward the office, and a moment later, Nathaniel is there. Micah jumps up and runs to his dad, and Nathaniel picks him up and folds him into a huge hug. Despite my current twisted gut, the softer part of me is smiling at the pair. It’s obvious that Nathaniel is smitten with his son. His eyes completely give him away—glazed with genuine warmth.
And, unfortunately, girls tend to eat up such tender gestures like they’re a warm, slice of apple pie.
“Hey, Micah, why don’t you go down to the front desk and see Roberto? He has a surprise for you!”
“A surprise?”
Nathaniel nods. “And then we’ll go get dinner. Okay?”
“Okay!” Micah shouts, and then he runs out of the office, leaving me alone with Nathaniel.
I can’t even stand to look at him.
He walks into the office, then steps toward me. I can smell him, and all I can think about is how much time I’ve spent with that scent surrounding me, with it on my skin from being in his arms. Beneath him. On top of him. All I feel now is used and dirty.
