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I hold the cardigan to my chest as we share the elevator ride with one of the students subletting the apartment next to mine.
I close my apartment door behind him and throw my cardigan, keys and the letter on the foyer table.
"You can sit down in there, Jax." I motion towards the living room. "I'm going to get some water. Would you like anything?"
"Water sounds good." He stands motionless in the foyer, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans. The grey polo shirt he's wearing wrinkled just a bit.
"Please, have a seat," I say as I walk out of the room.
I steady myself against the kitchen counter as I take a long drink of water to quench my thirst. This is the conversation I've been dreading all day and now I realize it's unavoidable. I pick up both bottles of water in my hands and walk back to the living room.
Jax is still in the foyer, his back turned to me. I silently walk up behind him and instantly realize he's holding the envelope addressed to Mark.
"What are you doing?"
He jumps slightly, the letter falling from his hands to the floor. He quickly reaches to pick it up and place it back on the table. "I'm sorry."
"That's personal."
"Do you still see him?"
I motion towards the living room. "That's none of your business."
"He's bad for you." He doesn't budge. "You shouldn't be anywhere near him."
I push the bottle of water at him. "I can do whatever I want."
"Stop acting like a child." Jax wraps his large hand around my wrist. "He hurt you. Why put yourself through more of that pain?"
"I refuse to discuss Mark with you." I stamp my foot for effect, pulling my arm free from his grasp.
"You can't trust him." Jax moves to sit on the edge of the couch.
"I can't trust you either, can I?" I seethe. "You conveniently forgot to mention that you were going to be my boss when you had me sitting half naked on your lap."
He runs his long, slim fingers through his tousled hair. "No. It's not like that. I'm not your boss."
"What's it like then?" I sit on a chair opposite the couch with my arms firmly crossed.
"I've never met anyone like you, Ivy." His eyes lock on mine. "When I saw you at the gallery, I couldn't believe it was you."
"Because you already knew that you owned the company that consigned my work." I stand, my voice loud but shaky.
"I did know then, yes." I watch him squirm in his seat. "But seeing you there, standing there, so beautiful, so close. I just wanted you so much."
I walk closer to the couch, my anger brimming near the surface." You had my jewelry at your apartment because it was your job. You let me want you when you knew we'd have to work together and then you rejected me."
"No." He stands now. "I recognized your talent long before I talked to Maddie about buying in."
"Maddie?" I step back. I've never heard anyone refer to the head of Veray as Maddie before.
"Oh, shit." He runs his hand through his hair again. "Madeline, I meant Madeline."
"No, Jax. Why did you call her that? How well do you know her?"
"It doesn't matter, Ivy." His voice is strained. "Just drop it."
I step towards him grabbing the arm of the chair to steady myself. "Tell me now."
