Читать книгу Beyond the Velvet Rope - Tiffany Ashley - Страница 6

Chapter One

New York City

5:32AM

She had made a mistake.

Thandie realized it the instant she woke up. Before she’d even had a chance to open her eyes or take a sip of coffee, she knew the truth. She’d made a big mistake, and she would pay dearly for it.

She buried her face into the pillow, and breathed in a familiar scent. His scent. She groaned. This only confirmed last night had really happened. Images came back to her in flashes of vivid clarity. She wished she could blame it on the champagne, but she’d barely finished one glass before everything fell apart. How could things go horribly wrong so fast? And on the most sacred of holidays?

It was the first day of Fashion Week. The streets of New York were abuzz with excitement. Celebrities flooded the city for a chance to preview this year’s winter collection. For every self-proclaimed fashionista, Fashion Week was like Christmas extended for seven wonderful days.

It was too bad Thandie would miss it. And all because she’d had a moment of weakness. Now that she thought about it, this had been building for weeks. But never, in her wildest nightmares, did she think things would have played out like this. And she certainly hadn’t imagined it would be so public.

Thandie buried her face deeper into the pillow, refusing to open her eyes; refusing to face the mess she’d created. She wished she had something to focus on other than what had happened hours before. She muffled a groan as her mind unwillingly recalled the sequence of events preceding her waking in a bed that was not her own....

Several hours earlier...

Thandie had been in Bryant Park, seated in the front row, watching the new Beverly Horton Collection being revealed. The tent where the show was taking place was filled with famous faces. Thandie had only to look across the aisle from her to see actress Nia Reynolds and fashion icon Victoria Beckham whispering to each other.

On Thandie’s left sat her former boss and good friend, Gage Ali. Gage was a heavyweight in the public relations field. Her contacts were everywhere, and her influence was boundless.

On Thandie’s right sat Bailey Woods, a celebrity publicist from Los Angeles. Like many present, she was in town for the shows. Bailey was another dear friend, but Thandie had seen little of her since Bailey relocated to California a few years ago. Having recently survived a hard breakup from her actor boyfriend, Bailey was going through a rough time in her life. Thandie and Gage were having a hard time trying not to mention he-who-must-not-be-named, or beg for all the gorry details. At least, not until after the shows.

And then Cam had shown up. The timing could not have been worse. Thandie had been praying she would not run into him tonight. But fate has a bizarre sense of humor.

Cameron Stewart was tall and boyishly handsome, with a lopsided grin and thick shaggy dark hair. The instant Thandie laid eyes on him, her earlier reluctance melted away. She hadn’t seen him in weeks, and she missed Cam. There was a certain comfort his nearness offered that few people outside her family supplied. She would always have a special place in her heart for him.

Cam was Thandie’s ex-boyfriend. They’d been together for nearly three years. Many believed the two of them would eventually get married. Until recently, Thandie had thought the same thing. Their breakup had been a gradual conclusion; an end to an era that had long outlived its usefulness. She had seen it coming, but had been unwilling to acknowledge it. She’d hung in there, hoping the tide would turn and they would regain the special relationship they’d lost.

But had it never happened.

Their split had ended on agreeable terms. Although Cam hadn’t been in favor of the decision, he’d accepted the decison because Thandie had wanted it. But he’d made it clear if she ever changed her mind, he would be waiting for her.

Cam had approached her group and partly out of instinct, but mostly out of habit, he leaned forward and kissed Thandie briefly on the lips. The mishap was further compounded by Thandie leaning into his touch. Quickly realizing their error, the two awkwardly pulled away from each other. To mask the discomfort that had settled over them, Cam began to tease Bailey, a mutual friend of theirs. As usual, Cam’s easygoing nature brought smiles to the faces of those around him. Thandie could literally feel Gage and Bailey’s spirits lift in his presence. Thankfully, his visit had been short. Cam, a fashion photographer, was working the Horton event, and had to get back to his seat before showtime.

* * *

Thandie watched as Cam crossed the tent and took his place among the other photographers. She wasn’t sure if her eyes were deceiving her, but there seemed to be something different about him. Something she couldn’t see, but sensed.

Thankfully, the house lights suddenly darkened, and the show got underway.

She pushed all thoughts about Cam from her mind, hoping that would be the last she saw of him tonight. But fate had other plans.

* * *

Hours later, at the after-party, Cam showed up with his new girlfriend. Thandie spotted him the moment they’d entered the club. She’d always known he would find someone else sooner or later, but actually seeing him with another woman made something tighten deep inside Thandie. It wasn’t jealousy exactly. It was something more basic, something more carnal.

Suddenly, in a room crowded with strangers, Cam’s eyes found hers. As if seeking her out, his dark gaze locked with Thandie’s and refused to let her go. In that instant, Thandie was able to define what she’d felt earlier. Desire. She desired Cam. It was as if seeing him with someone else stimulated her sexually in a way it never had before.

As if reading her thoughts, Cam’s gaze grew darker, and then he did something shocking. Cam disengaged himself from the statuesque beauty at his side, and purposefully crossed the room. When he was standing less than a foot away from Thandie, he wordlessly took the flute of champagne out of her hand and deftly pushed the glass toward a shocked Bailey. Not caring who was watching, Cam pulled Thandie into his arms and kissed her with a passion that left them both shaken.

Details became blurred after that point. Thandie vaguely remembered Cam guiding her onto the patio. There, the two of them began frantically kissing and pulling at each other’s clothes. Cam lay her down on a chaise longue, and the two of them became wildly intimate.

They were so enraptured in each other, they paid little mind to the crowd of partygoers surrounding them. Thandie vaguely recalled Gage pushing her way through the throng of voyeurs, hurrying her and Cam out a back exit, and shoving them into the backseat of her waiting town car.

The short ride to Cam’s apartment was filled with more hot kisses and a great deal of fondling. Things only escalated when they arrived at their destination. Their lovemaking was quick and fervent; their climaxes hard and satisfying. Afterward, they tumbled back onto the damp sheets; too exhausted to move. They fell asleep to the sound of Cameron’s cell phone ringing incessantly; no doubt from his girlfriend.

5:45AM

Now, in the light of day, Thandie regretted everything. She should have never given in to such madness. It had been satisfying for her, but the big problem was that Cam would assume more from their encounter. Thandie cringed at the thought of hurting him further.

Ashamed, Thandie buried her face deeper into the pillow. Perhaps she could escape before he woke? Maybe she could sneak out without being noticed. She wouldn’t be able to entirely evade their showdown, but she could at least put it off for a day or two. She would run and hide until she was ready to deal with Cam on her own terms. And preferably with clothes on.

Opening her eyes slowly, Thandie surveyed the room. Although dimly lit, she could make out Cam’s shadowy bedroom. In their haste to get to the bed, they’d made a mess of the room. She could see a trail of discarded clothes starting from the hallway and ending in a heap at the bedside. She groaned inwardly. It would be impossible to find all her clothes among the debris without making noise.

Turning her head slightly, Thandie noted where Cam lay. He was sound asleep in his favorite position, on his back with one arm tossed over his eyes. This might be her saving grace.

Clenching her teeth together, Thandie slowly and soundlessly attempted to ease herself out of bed. Inch by precious inch, she slipped free of the sheets. With one hand pressed firmly on the floor, and one foot extended to brace her weight, she was almost there. Thandie knew she looked ridiculous, but if she could just slide the rest of her body out of bed, there was a chance she could collect her clothes and sneak out of Cam’s apartment undetected. Holding her breath, she inched farther off the mattress.

She might have made it had it not been for the sound of a cell phone chiming at that very moment. It shattered the silence of the room like a bullhorn. Thandie froze. She watched in horror as Cam jerked awake and then rolled out of bed. The movement pulled the bedsheets with him, making them spill off the foot of the bed. As if in a sleep-induced trance, Cam shuffled to the dresser and snatched up his cell phone. Rubbing his eyes, he looked at the display. And then he swore. He seemed to be debating whether he should answer. Deciding not to, he tossed the phone aside, and then looked up.

“Oh, shit,” Thandie grumbled.

Cam blinked, taking in her bizarre position. Half of her was hanging off the bed, while the other half was outstretched toward the floor. Her intentions could not have been more obvious. Cam leaned his hip against the dresser and simply stared at her. His expression was solemn. “What are you doing?”

Awkwardly, Thandie came to her feet. Self-conscious because of her nakedness, she grabbed a pillow and held it in front of her. It offered little coverage, but since her clothes were not easily accessible, it was her best option.

“I have to go,” she said, her voice husky from sleep.

Cam looked up at the ceiling, hurt settling onto his features. “Why are you leaving?”

She sighed. “You know why I’m leaving.”

Cam threw his hands up helplessly. “I thought after last night...” His voice trailed off.

Thandie looked away, too ashamed to meet his pleading eyes. She regretted her actions last night, regretted the way she’d fallen into his arms without a care to the world. Regretted the way she’d blindly disregarded the consequences. There would be plenty of time to feel humiliation over the public episode. Everyone would be talking. It might even be reported in a local gossip column.

But Thandie couldn’t be bothered with that right now. She was too guilt-ridden to consider anything except that she was hurting Cam again.

“I made a mistake,” she said.

“You made a mistake? That’s all?” he said with a humorless laugh. “I had a girlfriend, Thandie.”

“I—I can fix that,” she stammered. “I can try to explain to her—”

“Explain what?” he snapped. “Explain that in the blink of an eye, I chose you over her? Explain that I’ll always choose you over her?”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Yeah, well I’m sorry, too,” he snapped.

“I’m sorry, Cam. I truly am.”

“And your mother?” he asked quietly. “Does she know about us?”

“Don’t,” Thandie said sharply. “Don’t you dare bring her into this.” The mention of her mother caused Thandie’s eyes sting with sudden tears.

Cameron swore, all the fight gone out of him. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I’m just so...” he dragged a hand through his tousled hair, searching for the right word. Then he froze, a thought having occurred to him. He looked at Thandie with tired eyes. “You don’t love me anymore, do you?”

She’d been expecting this question, but was still unprepared with where the answer would leave them. “Of course, I love you,” she confessed. “Just not like that anymore.”

“But last night—”

“I’m sorry,” she said in a small voice. “Nothing has changed. Last night should have never happened.”

“Thandie, please don’t do this,” he groaned.

“Cam, we’ve been broken up for weeks. What did you expect? Did you think things would magically go back to the way they were?”

“Yes,” he said defiantly. “Yes, I did.”

“Oh, Cam,” she choked out. “I thought you understood—”

“Get out.”

Thandie’s head popped up. “What?”

“I said get out,” he repeated in a voice void of any emotion.

“Cam.” She took a step toward him, but he turned his back on her and abruptly walked out of the room. Thandie jumped when she heard the bathroom door slam shut.

She stared at the spot where Cam had stood. She hated hurting him. Cam deserved better. He deserved to be with someone who would mirror his bright, happy personality. It hadn’t been that way between them for a long time.

She called out to him again. When he did not respond, she debated going after him or simply leaving.

Her indecision caused agitation to bubble up inside her. She couldn’t stand for Cam to be upset with her, but she also did not want him to entertain any notions of them rekindling their relationship.

And then it happened. Thandie felt her breathing catch and then quicken to a pace she could barely control. Soon she was doing more gasping than breathing. Her hands began to shake frantically, and beads of sweats dampened her forehead. She was suddenly hot, so hot she was burning with it.

Oh, God, no, she thought. Not now. She reached out, steadying herself on the edge of the bed. Clenching her fingers tightly in the sheets, she struggled to slow her breathing before the panic completely overwhelmed her. Forcing herself to focus on an imaginary spot on the wall, she repeated her breathing exercises. Inhaling deeply through her nose and exhaling through her mouth. It was difficult to concentrate. She had to try three times before she found her rhythm. Once found, she concentrated on it with desperate determination. It took several painstaking minutes before her breathing returned to normal. When she felt the crippling hold of fear loosen slightly, she reacted with cat-like instincts.

Her still hands shaking, she quickly dressed and got the hell out of there. Twice she had to lean against the hallway wall to brace herself and catch her breath. She needed to sit down, but the urgency of putting distance between herself and Cam pushed her forward. No one knew she suffered from panic attacks. And she had no intention of broadcasting this fact; not even to Cam. Aside from being embarrassed by it, she knew it was a scary thing to witness.

Thandie had been plagued by panic attacks ever since she was a little girl. She had learned to control them as she got older. Her experienced episodes had become less frequent, and often occurred while she was alone. But every once in while, she was caught off guard by the sudden grip of anxiety. They were brought on by stress. It was an oddity that she would choose a high-pressure career. Strangely enough, Thandie never had an episode while at work. Her attacks were remarkably selective. They chose only to present themselves when she was dealing with personal issues.

It was just after dawn, and the sky was just beginning to brighten with flecks of sunlight. Taking a cab to her loft uptown would be ideal, but the streets were empty. Apparently, it was too early for taxi drivers to earn a living. Taking the bus was out of the question. She was dressed for a fashion show. She’d rather walk before facing the curious stares. But it was cold outside. Too cold for pride. And certainly too cold for a woman to walk around in six inch suede boots and a sequined miniskirt. Stares or no, she was not walking home.

The closest bus stop was around the corner from Cam’s building. Thandie hobbled in that direction, trying as much as possible not to attract any attention. It was a challenge, but she managed to do it without grimacing once.

As luck would have it, as soon as she reached the end of the block, she saw a lone taxi puttering down the dark street. Relief flooded through her as it drew nearer to the curb. Once tucked inside the backside of the taxi, she released a heavy sigh. The temperature in the cab was only marginally warmer than outside, but it was an improvement nonetheless.

Thandie clenched her hands together tightly, until the shaking subsided a little. It took a while before she realized her hands were not the only thing trembling. Reaching into her purse, Thandie pulled out her phone. It was Gage calling.

Suppressing a groan, she answered, “Hi Gage.”

Laughter greeted her. “How’s my favorite little porn star this morning?”

“That’s not funny,” Thandie said unamused.

“You know what else isn’t funny?” Gage asked in her crisp British accent. “Threatening every snitch at that party not to release your name to the press. I assure you the task lacks hilarity. I’ve had a full morning already and it isn’t even six o’clock yet.”

Thandie checked the time. “My goodness, Gage. Have you slept at all?”

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead,” she said with a dry laugh.

“Thanks, Gage. I owe you—”

“Trust me. You’ll never be able to repay my generosity on this one.”

Thandie cringed. “Was it that bad?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Gage scoffed. “You and Cam were seen doing the deed in public. Couldn’t you have had the decency to screw each other in Central Park, like a normal New Yorker? No, you aimed for the big leagues. You had to put your sexcapades on display at a Marc Jacobs’s party of all places. And on the first day of Fashion Week.”

Gage added the last part as if the untimeliness of the stunt was her biggest offense. With a sigh, Thandie had to admit Gage was right.

“I wasn’t thinking,” she admitted.

“No. You were too busy screwing. Not very smart.”

“What should I do?”

“Not a damn thing. I’ve taken care of it. There may be some whispers, but rest assured no one will print either of your names.”

“Thank you, Gage”

“Stay out of sight for a few days, to give this time to blow over.”

“I can’t,” Thandie said helplessly. “I’m hosting a party tomorrow night.”

Gage gave the sigh of a martyr. “Fine. But do me a favor and try to stay out of trouble for a while. I think I’ve used up all my favors.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Make sure you do.”

Miami, Florida

12:57PM

Elliot stretched lazily before rolling onto his back. Opening his eyes slowly, he stared up at the mirror mounted above the bed. Fuzzy memories of last night came back to him. He was in his playroom. The one room in his home where his bed partners were welcome. It was conveniently stationed just off the foyer, the first room closest to the front door.

For Elliot Richards, privacy was his most treasured possession. His home was next in line. He hated the idea of bringing women home; this was his haven, his utopia away from the loud and busy life he led on the mainland. It annoyed him that he was reduced to bringing his conquests here. But there were few choices available to him.

Miami was a small city, gossip ran rampant, and he was easily recognizable. Hotels were simply not an option. Elliot was not a vain person who relished the attention of others. He was quite the opposite. He shied away from publicity, often refusing to be interviewed by the press. However, as the owner of a string of successful South Beach businesses, he was often photographed sharing a drink with celebrities. The paparazzi had unknowingly made him into the one thing he worked hard to avoid: famous.

The redhead sleeping to his right rolled into his side, nuzzling his chest with her nose. The movement caused the blonde lying on his left to toss her arm across his naked hips. Bored, and somewhat uncomfortable, Elliot nudged her limp body away from him and slid out of bed. He looked around for his pants, but after a few quick glances, he gave up the endeavor.

The redhead awoke. “Where are you going?” she asked.

He answered her with a question of his own. “Did you drive here?”

She shook her head; her auburn locks curtained her eyes. “You drove us. Where are you going?”

By this time, the blonde had come to life, yawning deeply before giving him a sexy grin. “Come back to bed, baby.”

Spying his phone on the floor, Elliot scooped it up and punched a number stored in his auto dial.

“Security,” a gruff voice answered.

“This is Elliot Richards. Call a cab, please.” He hung up the phone and winked at the women. “Ladies, I have a busy day. You should go.” Stepping over miscellaneous sex toys used the previous night, he pulled open the door. Before leaving, he turned back. “Please don’t be here when I get back.”

He closed the door closed behind him.

When he stepped into the hall, he ran into Romero Latez, his personal assistant. The twenty-something Pennsylvania State University graduate had been employed by Elliot for over a year, and he was the best assistant Elliot had ever had. He was discreet and well-groomed. Romero held himself with the arrogant air of someone who was a decade older and had seen everything. He showed no obvious surprise over Elliot’s nakedness. It wasn’t the first time, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last.

He handed Elliot a chilled bottle of water. “Are you ready for your messages?”

Elliot took a modest sip before shaking his head. “Not just yet.” Nodding his head toward the door that led to the playroom, he said, “Get them out of here before Lucinda sees them.”

Romero nodded and Elliot turned away. He crossed the living areas, passed the kitchen, and headed toward the west wing, where the master suite was located. He pushed open the door, closing it immediately behind him.

This was the one room in the house where no one other than himself was allowed. It was the single place where he could truly be left to his private thoughts. Oftentimes, the scant half hour he used getting dressed for the day was the only time when he was by himself. He relished these moments. And he guarded them passionately.

Elliot rarely had time to be alone. He was often surrounded by people. There was always someone waiting for him, needing an answer to a series of questions, or just plain wanting his insight. This was partly his fault. He’d purposely mapped his life so that every moment of the day was strategically planned. He liked to make the most of every minute. He had to. There were simply too many people who worked for him to keep track of it all without relying on a rhythm to the madness. Yes, it was often madness. And yes, there was a definite rhythm to it.

Tossing his phone on the bed, he headed into the bathroom. Once showered and clean-shaven, he entered his expansive closet. After surveying the array of neatly hung expensive suits, he selected a pair of black slacks, matching jacket and a dark dress shirt. He triggered his phone to play his messages on speaker, so he could listen while he dressed. There were only a handful of people who knew his mobile number. And Elliot was particular about returning calls in a timely manner.

Message 1: “Elliot, it’s Nick Sinclair. I’ll be in Miami soon. I thought you ought to know. I’ll call you later with details. Tell Lucinda I said hello.”

Message 2: “This is Nico. Three words: Matrix. Party. Tonight.”

Message 3: “Hi Elliot. This is Daria. I’ll be in Miami on the twenty first for a photo shoot. I’ll be there for the entire weekend. [giggle] I’d love to see you again. Call me.”

Message 4: “Hey, Elliot. It’s Eddie. Don’t forget we have the financial meeting at three this afternoon. I think you’ll find the marketing budget interesting.”

Elliot considered the messages, making note of the order in which he would return each call. He’d grinned when he’d listened to Nico’s cryptic message. Nico could always be counted on for a good laugh. The mention of Matrix throwing another one of his parties was good reason to call Nico back first.

Afterward, Elliot planned to call Nick Sinclair, another longtime friend. The two spoke often on the phone, but due to the fact they lived on opposite coasts, they rarely saw each other. He wondered what would bring Nick to Miami this time of the year. Regardless, it would be nice to see his old friend again. Elliot made a mental note to call his comrade as soon as possible. As for Eddie, there was no need to return his call. Elliot would see Eddie within the hour.

Daria was another issue. Her trips to Miami seemed to be coming more frequently. He would have to talk to her about this. If she was forming expectations about their arrangement, he would have to set the record straight.

Now dressed, Elliot shot a fleeting glance toward his bed as he left the room. Equipped with the news Nico had delivered, it was doubtful he’d be sleeping in his own bed tonight.

Romero was waiting for him in the foyer. Elliot was pleased to hear the house was silent; hence, the women were gone. Romero tossed him his car keys. Wordlessly, Elliot stepped onto the sprawling patio which wrapped around the front of his home. Elliot hit the key fob dangling from his keychain, and the headlights of a shiny black Porsche lit up. Sliding into the driver’s seat, he turned the ignition, pausing only long enough for Romero to sling into the passenger seat. Throwing the car into first gear, pebbles kicked up as Elliot sped off Star Island.

A short time later, they pulled in front of a four-story building. On its broad side, a large sign read Club Babylon in sleek silver letters. On a typical night, the street would be lined with cars, and the sidewalks crowded with eager partygoers. But it was daylight, many hours before the club opened for business. Parking steps from he front entrance, Elliot tossed his car keys to Romero and strolled into the inside like he owned the place; which he did.

* * *

With Romero close on his heels, Elliot crossed the now empty dance floors, and jogged up the steps which led to his office. It was a large airy room, with stylish low-slung furniture and many shiny surfaces. It was positioned in a corner of the building. The architecture enabled it to jut out at an angle so that it was suspended over the main dance floor. With three of the walls made of glass, it allowed Elliot an unfiltered view of the club. Presently, the room glowed a dreamy orange hue, a reflection from the stage mood lights; and a clear indication the technicians were testing the lights before showtime.

There was a cluster of men waiting for Elliot when he arrived. He nodded to each before taking a seat behind his desk. He punched a series of numbers on his speaker phone, and instantly two investors were conferenced into the meeting.

“Hello, everyone,” Elliot began. “Let’s not waste time. We have a lot to cover in a few short hours.” He looked down at his watch. “It’s 3:00 p.m. now. We can break for lunch around six.” He turned to a thin, freckle-faced man seated on a sofa across from him. “Eddie, where do we stand with the financials? I want cost analysis for the added security, transportation and entertainment. Let’s hold off on the marketing for now. We need to make sure we can handle the traffic we currently bring in.” Inclining his head toward Eddie, he said, “Please begin.”