We were together because we were addicted to each other. I was never as intoxicated as I was when we were happy together, and I knew it was the same for him. We were putting ourselves through the wringer for those moments of perfection between us, but they were so tenuous that only our stubbornness, determination, and love kept us fighting for them.
Enough with making yourself crazy.
I checked my e-mail, and found my daily Google alert on “Gideon Cross.” The day’s digest of links led mostly to photos of Gideon, in black tie sans tie, and me at the charity dinner at the Waldorf Astoria the night before.
“God.” I couldn’t help but be reminded of my mother when looking at the pictures of me in a champagne Vera Wang cocktail dress. Not just because of how closely my looks mirrored my mom’s—aside from my hair being long and straight—but also because of the mega-mogul whose arm I graced.
Monica Tramell Barker Mitchell Stanton was very, very good at being a trophy wife. She knew precisely what was expected of her and delivered without fail. Although she’d been divorced twice, both times had been by her choice and both divorces had left her exes despondent over losing her. I didn’t think less of my mother, because she gave as good as she got and didn’t take anyone for granted, but I’d grown up striving for independence. My right to say no was my most valued possession.
Minimizing my e-mail window, I pushed my personal life aside and went back to searching for market comparisons on fruity coffee. I coordinated some initial meetings between the strategists and Mark and helped Mark with brainstorming a campaign for a gluten-free restaurant. Noon approached and I was starting to feel seriously hungry when my phone rang. I answered with my usual greeting.
“Eva?” an accented female voice greeted me. “It’s Magdalene. Do you have a minute?”
I leaned back in my chair, alert. Magdalene and I had once shared a moment of sympathy over Corinne’s unexpected and unwanted reappearance in Gideon’s life, but I’d never forget how vicious Magdalene had been to me the first time we’d met. “Just. What’s up?”
She sighed, then spoke quickly, her words flowing in a rush. “I was sitting at the table behind Corinne last night. I could hear a bit of what was being said between her and Gideon during dinner.”
My stomach tensed, preparing for an emotional blow. Magdalene knew just how to exploit my insecurities about Gideon. “Stirring up crap while I’m at work is a new low,” I said coldly. “I don’t—”
“He wasn’t ignoring you.”
My mouth hung open a second, and she quickly filled the silence.
“He was managing her, Eva. She was making suggestions for where to take you around New York since you’re new in town, but she was doing it by playing the old remember-when-you-and-I-went-there game.”
“A walk down memory lane,” I muttered, grateful now that I hadn’t been able to hear much of Gideon’s low-voiced conversation with his ex.
“Yes.” Magdalene took a deep breath. “You left because you thought he was ignoring you for her. I just want you to know that he seemed to be thinking about you, trying to keep Corinne from upsetting you.”
“Why do you care?”
“Who says I do? I owe you one, Eva, for the way I introduced myself.”
I thought about that. Yeah, she owed me for when she ambushed me in the bathroom with her catty jealous bullshit. Not that I bought it as her sole motivation. Maybe I was just the lesser of two evils. Maybe she was keeping her enemies close. “All right. Thank you.”
No denying I felt better. A weight I hadn’t realized I was carrying around was suddenly relieved.
“Something else,” Magdalene went on. “He went after you.”
My grip tightened on the phone receiver. Gideon always came after me . . . because I was always running. My recovery was so fragile that I’d learned to protect it at all costs. When something threatened my stability, I ditched it.
“There have been other women in his life who’ve tried ultimatums like that, Eva. They got bored or they wanted his attention or some kind of grand gesture . . . So they walked away and expected him to come after them. You know what he did?”
“Nothing,” I said softly, knowing my man. A man who never spent social time with women he slept with and never slept with women he associated with socially. Corinne and I were the sole exceptions to that rule, which was yet another reason why his ex sent me into fits of jealousy.
“Nothing more than making sure Angus dropped them off safely,” she confirmed, making me think it’d been a tactic she’d tried at some point. “But when you left, he couldn’t chase after you fast enough. And he wasn’t himself when he said good-bye. He seemed . . . off.”
Because he’d felt fear. My eyes closed as I mentally kicked myself. Hard.
Gideon had told me more than once that it terrified him when I ran, because he couldn’t handle the thought that I might not come back. What good did it do to say that I couldn’t imagine living without him when I so often showed him otherwise with my actions? Was it any wonder he hadn’t opened up to me about his past?
I had to stop running. Gideon and I were both going to have to stand and fight for this, for us, if we were going to have any hope of making our relationship work.
“Do I owe you now?” I asked neutrally, returning Mark’s wave as he left for lunch.
Magdalene exhaled in a rush. “Gideon and I have known each other a long time. Our mothers are best friends. You and I will see each other around, Eva, and I’m hoping we can find a way to avoid any awkwardness.”
The woman had come up to me and told me that the minute Gideon “shoved his dick” in me, I was “done.” And she’d hit me with that at a moment when I was especially vulnerable.
“Listen, Magdalene, if you don’t cause drama, we’ll get by.” And since she was being so forthright . . . “I can screw up my relationship with Gideon all by myself, trust me. I don’t need any help.”
She laughed softly. “That was my mistake, I think—I was too careful and too accommodating. He has to work at it with you. Anyway . . . I’ve taken up my minute. I’ll let you go.”
“Enjoy your weekend,” I said, in lieu of thanks. I still couldn’t trust her motivation.
“You, too.”
As I returned the receiver to its cradle, my gaze went to the photos of me and Gideon. I was abruptly overwhelmed by feelings of greed and possession. He was mine, yet I couldn’t be sure from one day to the next whether he’d stay mine. And the thought of any other woman having him made me insane.
I pulled open my bottom drawer and dug my smartphone out of my purse. Driven by the need to have him thinking as fiercely about me, I texted him about my sudden desperate hunger to devour him whole: I’d give anything to be sucking your cock right now.
Just thinking about how he looked when I took him in my mouth . . . the feral sounds he made when he was about to come . . .
Standing, I deleted the text the moment I saw it’d been delivered, then dropped my phone back in my purse. Since it was noon, I closed all the windows on my computer and headed out to reception to find Megumi.
“You hungry for anything in particular?” she asked, pushing to her feet and giving me a chance to admire her belted, sleeveless lavender dress.