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He’s standing in front of me, waiting for me to look at him. He can wait forever.
“Poppy,” he begins. Something snaps. I finally look at him, and before I realize what I’m doing, I slap him as hard as I can across the face. I can feel tears stinging my eyes, and I blink hard, willing them not to fall. I take a step back, shocked by what I’ve done. He stares at me for a moment, but the anger I expected to see isn’t there.
He nods, slowly. “I deserved that. Please, let me explain,” he says, and there’s a bit of a tremor in his voice. I’m not sure if it’s anger or what, and right now, I don’t really care.
“There’s nothing to explain. You’re a goddamn liar and a cheat. You’ve got a wife, and a kid, and a whole life you kept from me. What the hell else is there to explain?” My voice had become a shout, and I didn’t even care. I needed some outlet for the rage and hurt swirling inside me, and short of hitting him again, screaming was the only thing likely to make me feel better just now.
But damn, do I want to hit him again. And I want to lock myself somewhere and have a good, long cry because I’m a mess and I hate that he’s made me feel this way.
“Poppy—”
I start to walk away, and he steps in front of me, blocking my path. “Baby, I’m not married. Not anymore, anyway. Micah is my son. There is no wife.”
“Yeah? Then who were you kissing downstairs? Another one of your whores? Man, I’m gonna be pissed if she’s making more than me.” I go to walk away again, and he grabs me by the arms and pulls me to him, crushing me against his chest.
“Calm down. Stop acting like a child.”
That’s it. I shove him back, hard. “You’re not my father,” I snarl. “Get your dirty, disgusting old hands off me. The only reason I ever slept with you was to pay off my father’s debts. You’re nothing.”
He seems stunned, and he drops his hands. “You don’t mean that.”
“The hell I don’t.”
Before he can say another word, I run out of the office, determined to put as much space betwe
en us as possible.
Downstairs, I try to compose myself as best I can when I approach the front desk, which is unavoidable due to how close it is to the door of the gallery. Roberto and Micah are engaged in a thumb war behind the solid marble counter, and I almost manage to walk past without either of them noticing.
“Poppy, are you leaving? I thought you might here to help with the final preparations for the show tonight?” Roberto calls out when I’m literally a hairline away from the door.
I take a quick, deep breath and turn to him, spreading a convincing smile. “Ah, no. Mr. Stone said I can still have the day off. I was just, ah, double-checking that he didn’t need me.” I know it’s mere seconds away before my cheeks turn pink and give me away completely, so I swiftly add, “I’ll see you tonight though. Bye.”
But then Micah pipes up, halting me in place again. “It was nice to meet you, Poppy. You’re pretty.”
The fresh smile that lights up my face is all genuine. “Thank you, Micah. You’re quite handsome yourself,” I reply, and he giggles.
Outside, the cool air comes like a godsend, temporary relief from the beyond-uncomfortable situation I was just made to suffer through. Yet, as I head toward the subway, all I can think about is the crazy mess that I’ve just left behind me.
This is on you, Poppy. You should’ve known better than to fuck your boss… repeatedly.
But if that’s true, then why don’t I regret any of it?
Chapter Twelve
Nathaniel
I stand in my office, frozen, for a good ten minutes after Poppy storms out. There’s a dead weight in my gut and tightness in my chest. I feel like I can barely breathe.
Part of it is anger. I’m pissed at Poppy for blowing this so far out of proportion. I understand that she’s hurt, but assuming the absolute worst of me after we’ve spent so much time trusting each other in other ways just… I can’t deal with this shit right now. The woman trusts me to spank her, to punish her, to tie her up and have my way with her body, but she won’t give me five goddamn minutes to explain myself before assuming the worst? Fuck this.
And fuck Vanessa too. Though not the way she wants.
Shit.
I’d meant to tell Poppy about Micah. I wanted to. I needed to be sure, though. I didn’t want to introduce her into Micah’s life and then find myself bored with her, tossing her aside the way I did so many other women. If she was going to be part of Micah’s life, I had to be sure how I felt about her. And I was there. I was just about ready to tell her and ask her to meet him.
To tell her everything.
