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My mind wandered, and my eyes roamed around the room. I hadn't really been in a state to notice earlier, but now I could see this room was just as luxurious as the sitting area. It was a little smaller, but in an intimate way. There was another painting on the wall, but I couldn't see what it was in the dim light.
I suddenly felt his hand in mine and looked over to see him watching me.
"It's Toulouse-Lautrec," he said, apparently having noticed me looking at the painting. "You can get a better look in the morning." And he settled down into the bed beside me like we did this every night.
"I won't be here in the morning," I replied. "Thank you for this, but I'm leaving shortly."
"You'll stay," he ordered, but he had lost all his domineering presence. He was almost childlike, with his hand wrapped in mine as he sighed his command and then contentedly closed his eyes, seemingly sure that I would comply. The last thing I remember before falling asleep was watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.
When I awoke,the morning sun was just starting to warm the room. I sat up and took in my surroundings in the daylight, and briefly thought about what it would be like to stay, to order room service, to find out the name of the man sleeping beside me.
I could see the painting across the room clearly now. He was right, it was Toulouse-Lautrec; mirroring life, it showed two people in a bed together. I looked over at him, sleeping peacefully, as though he hadn't moved all night. He was still very much naked, and I felt the stirrings of desire. The sunlight caressed his skin, and I longed to do the same. I suppressed it, though. It was always going to be just one night with him, and that night was over. Now that it was morning, it was time for me to go. I should leave now, while he was still asleep.
I took one last look at him, memorizing the tableau in front of me and tucking it away in my mind, before slipping out of the sheets, gathering up my clothes, and quietly sneaking out the door.
FOUR
CASSIUS
Six Years Later
It wasn't a good day.
We'd lost a potential client, one that I'd thought was a sure bet. Mentally, I'd already started preparing the moves I would make with both the prestige and the income this client would have brought us. Now that it had fallen through, I was left staring at a bullet list of expansion ideas that I had no way to achieve.
I was trying to think of a way to salvage the situation. I was sure it was possible. I hadn't become the youngest person on the city's top ten businesses list by giving up, after all. I was drawing a blank, though. Maybe a change of routine would help. I decided to work from home for the rest of the day. I let my assistant know I was leaving and headed for the garage. Getting into my car, I had an inspired thought to take the long way home. It had been a while since I'd gone on a drive. This was my newest car, a brand-new Tesla, and I hadn't yet had a chance to take it for a real drive and see how it compared to my other sports cars. If I texted Michelle now, maybe she could also finish her day early and meet me at the house. A drive and then a fun afternoon with my girlfriend felt like just what I needed to jumpstart my brain.
I sent Michelle a text and pulled out of the garage, keeping my speed normal until I was out of the city proper and able to switch to less well-traveled backroads. A lot of people loved to take sports cars on the open highway and see how fast they could push them, but after a certain point, all speeds feel the same, and most cars will get you to that point. What I really liked to know was how a car handled—how it took a curve, how it felt when you drove it. I loved turning the steering wheel and feeling that chain reaction of control as the wheels turned on the road.
I had a set route I liked to take when I needed a good drive. At this point I could maneuver it without thinking about it. I rolled down the windows, turned up my music, and tried to let the day blow away. For a while, it worked. I thought about nothing but the thrum of the bass in the car's stereo and the feel of the wind on my face. This route briefly detoured through the large park just outside the city limits, and the leaves on the trees were brilliant in their fall foliage. I was enjoying the way the sun dappled their bright oranges, yellows, and reds, when I suddenly flashed back to another fall day years ago.
I remembered a chill in the air and a beautiful woman with green eyes and blonde hair hugging herself against the cold. We were standing on the balcony of a mountain resort, and the sun had glinted off her hair while lighting up the autumn trees behind her. She had come very close to me, taken hold of my shirt, and told me to leave her alone. And then later that night, she'd showed up at my door...
I blinked, back in the present. It had been a while since I thought of her, and yet I wasn't totally surprised. I had never completely been able to forget her. For weeks after she disappeared from my room, I had tried everything to find her. But she had vanished without a trace. I'd slowly made peace with the fact that I'd never see her again, but even now thinking about her made me feel a little melancholy.
I gunned the engine and turned the music up higher, but my good vibes were gone. Between this morning's failure and the regrets of the past, the whole day felt like a wash. I spent the rest of the drive in a gloomy funk.
I checked my phone at the last stoplight before home, but Michelle still hadn't responded. She must be really busy today. Too bad. It would have been nice to spend the rest of the afternoon with her, but maybe it was for the best. Michelle was a catch, gorgeous and smart with a kickass job of her own, and we made a good team. But getting her to let her hair down was always a struggle. If she wasn't responding, she really wasn't in the mood for fun. I'd just let her work, and blow off some steam on my own.
But when I pulled into the driveway, I was surprised to see not just Michelle's car, but a second car I didn't recognize. Questions immediately flooded my mind. Why was she home? Did that mean she wasn't working? If so, why no reply to my text? And just exactly who did this other car belong to?
I parked behind Michelle's car and headed inside. I told myself that there was surely a reasonable explanation, but I was struggling to think of one. The door was locked but the security system was off. My guard was really up now, and worst-case scenarios started presenting themselves. What if she'd come home and someone had followed her? I thought I remembered her mentioning a jealous ex. Or worse, someone who'd seen how well the business was doing and thought they could pull off a kidnapping. Both of those scenarios made my blood boil.
I crept through the house, suddenly very aware of how much the sound of my footsteps echoed in the entryway with its two-story arched ceiling and marble tile. I tried to step lightly as I went up the stairs. I was instinctively headed for the bedroom but trying to think of where I might get a makeshift weapon on the way. But then I heard a noise that totally changed things. I stopped halfway up the stairs; sure I must have imagined it. I held my breath and waited. Then I heard it again.
The unmistakable sound of a moan. And not just any moan—Michelle's moan. The same one I'd heard hundreds of times in bed with her. I'd made her moan like that.
Suddenly angry, I continued up the stairs, blood rushing in my ears. I knew what I'd heard, but could it really be what I thought? Maybe she was alone. Maybe she'd also had a bad day and needed to blow off some steam. But then, there was the other car...
As if timed to my thoughts, I heard another voice. A man's voice coming from the bedroom I shared with my girlfriend. I stopped again, this time because my whole body was tense with anger. She wouldn't really dare, would she? In our bedroom? In ourbed?
But apparently, she would, because now both of them were moaning, and it was getting louder. I unfroze and made the last few steps to the bedroom door in seconds, barely managing to throw it open with my hand instead of kicking it down like I wanted.
"Cassius!" Michelle shrieked as I took in the sight in front of me. Well, I'd been wrong. They weren't on the bed. Instead, there was Michelle, on her hands and knees on the floor, and some man I'd never seen before kneeling behind her, his hands gripping her waist and his hips still mid-thrust when his eyes met mine and all the color drained from his face.
He didn't look too out of shape, but I sized him up and knew I was perfectly capable of beating the shit out of him. From the expression on his face, he knew it too.
"I don't know who you are," I said through gritted teeth, "but how about you take your dick out of my girlfriend?" He did, and stood up, backing away from me and then, perhaps realizing I was between him and the only exit, stopping.
