Page 50 of Cruel Fate

“I need to clean up.” Zane rolls off the bed, and I burrow into the blankets.

There’s no wet spot this time. He wore a condom and I didn’t come, but I don’t mind. Zane’s more than generous, but he needed something, and this time, I let him take.

He stumbles back to bed, tripping over our clothes that are still on the floor. “Thank you,” he mumbles, and I barely hear him.

I roll over and rest my head on his chest. “Whatever you need, Zane.” I smooth my fingers over his ribs.

“Thank God I found you.”

He’s sleeping then, and I don’t respond but I listen to him breathe, my lips rubbing against his damp skin.

It’s late before I finally fall asleep.

My alarm goes off much too early, and I want to snuggle in bed with Zane, but we can’t be late. I force myself to get up and shower, and my nipples ache under the hot spray. I’m sore, but when Zane woke me in the middle of the night to make love, it didn’t hurt, and I’m glad I didn’t have to tell him no. I always want to give him whatever he needs.

Wearing his rumpled suit, his tie tucked into his pocket, he looks adorable sitting at my little table eating cereal and catching up on the news on his phone. He didn’t want to leave me behind, and quickly, I dress in another skirt and matching blouse I bought at Donna Karan. I slip on heels the right size, and my feet thank me. My hair is still damp, but I step into the kitchen ready to head to the office. Half an hour later, he’s kissing me in the elevator, his scruff scratching my cheek. “I’m going up to take a shower and change my clothes. I’ll see you later, okay?”

I nod, shifting into work mode. The first thing I’ll need to do is block out the first two hours of his day. Denton and Cramer won’t be happy.

My cell phone starts pinging the moment I sit down at my desk. RSVPs are pouring in for Zane’s party, and all morning I scramble to check people off the list. Finally, I ask Harper if she’ll help me. She’s a little resentful Zarah and I planned the party without her input, but she sees I’m in over my head and her face clears. Matching RSVP texts, emails, and phone calls to the guest list is a lot easier with her help. She’s personally met everyone, and she reminds me who they all are in relation to the Maddoxes.

I don’t see Zane all day, and Zarah doesn’t text me, either. It’s a little unsettling. I’ve gotten attached to them and being a part of their world. With no news and no plans, I’m strangely bereft at the end of the day.

The floor gradually empties and it’s time to go home. Zane’s on a conference call, the volume of his voice rising and falling through his office door at my back. I won’t be able to tell him goodbye.

Zarah could be with Ash, working, serving coffee, or fucking him, since that seems to be part of her job description, too. I shouldn’t feel superior, but I do. I don’t think she does any real work at Black Enterprises, but I shouldn’t judge her. I let Zane fuck me on his desk. I’m no better than she is.

I grab my purse and check my cell phone. The RSVPs stopped along with the business day. Harper leaves, wishing me a goodnight, and Denton follows her into the elevator, his eyes on her ass. I wonder if they have something on the side, or if I’m the only cliché on the twenty-fifth floor.

Not hearing a word from anyone, I ride the elevator downstairs alone. I glance at my phone again, double checking Zarah hasn’t asked me to meet her somewhere. She hasn’t.

I go home, and not even Bill and his cheerful demeanor lift my spirits.

After changing out of my work clothes, I eat a piece of the leftover pizza and make a fresh pot of coffee.

It feels odd to be alone, and I think about stopping by Maryanne’s to see how Jilly’s doing, but I don’t. I promised myself after I moved out of her house I wouldn’t intrude. I only visit if she invites me, and that’s maybe once a month or so. Other girls depend on her, and they need all her time. Some of them aren’t as obedient as Bethany or as even-tempered as Jilly.

I keep my phone next to me in case Zane or Zarah tries to reach me, and I log into my online classes and read through the daily course material. I’m a little behind, and I do homework all evening to catch up. I don’t want to waste the grant money that pays for my tuition, and I need to do better.

My phone remains silent, and I fall asleep watching TV. I wake up briefly to go to the bathroom and move to the bed. The sheets smell like sex, and pushing a pillow to my face, I breathe in Zane’s scent.

He might be mad at me. Maybe he realized I’m not the kind of woman he needs after all. I wish our lovemaking had gone better. He said he had a good time, but maybe I was too whiny. He’s used to treating women how he likes. He’s Zane Maddox, for Christ’s sake, and he grew up being handed whatever he wants.

He might have decided he doesn’t want me, and that would break my heart.

I’d miss his boyish grin, his sensitive soul.

Dressed in one of my old suits, I venture to work the next morning, apprehensive and unsure of what I’m stepping into. I look for Zane or Zarah, but I don’t see either of them.

Keeping an eye on Zane’s schedule, completing small side projects that Harper asks me to do, recording the RSVPs thatstarted coming in the second I plopped into my chair, and resuming my MI 101 classes fills all my time, but I still don’t feel like I’m doing as much as an experienced person trained for the position could do. Harper’s patient, feeding me duties as she thinks I can handle them, and for a full three hours I don’t see Zane at all. Then suddenly he’s behind me, his hands gripping my shoulders.

“I’m sorry about last night. I got hung up here. I wanted to give you a kiss goodbye.”

I sag with relief. “It’s okay. I know how busy you are.”

“Never too busy to spend time with you.” He kisses the top of my head and slips into his office.

Reassured our relationship is okay, I go back to work. I hate feeling off, and it worries me how entangled with the Maddoxes I’ve become. It’s not healthy, and Maryanne wouldn’t approve. My job aside, Zane’s and Zarah’s friendships shouldn’t mean that much to me.

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