Page 28 of Roots of the Wicked

Two shiny marble steps led to a large four-poster bed on a raised marble platform to our left. The headboard showcased intricately crafted hand carvings. Everything on the bed from the pillows to the sheets and lacy shag was snow white and in direct contrast to the darker hues of brown in the living room area.

The rosy scent of fresh cut flowers flowed throughout the space, aided by a light breeze flowing from the area above the couch. The clink of silverware against a dish drew my attention, sending it toward the small kitchen area Jax was in.

She sashayed over and handed me a bowl with a scoop of mint chocolate chip and a mouthwatering chunk of brownie. She had certainly hacked into my phone, and she had gone in deep to find a picture of one of my favorite desserts I had posted on social media over a year ago.

She probably knew more about me than I cared to remember. I wonder if she had discovered that I sometimes used a very exclusive escort service that catered to men of wealth? It was embarrassing and spoke of my laziness where it concerned my lackluster love life.

The most perplexing thing about her knowing my personal business was I wasn’t as upset as I should have been.

“Thank you.” I accepted the tasty treat. She observed me cup the bowl and prepared to enjoy my ice cream.

“You’ll have to run an extra mile, but what’s life without indulgences. And from what I can tell of your phone, you don’t indulge in shit but work.”

She was right. I shoved a spoon of ice cream into my mouth.

“What are you, my life coach?” I was enjoying her company. I’d never had this with anyone, especially not with a woman.

She pursed her lips, eyeing me with a stern almost possessive glint before joining me on the couch.

“You need one. Shit. Now, I’m starting to understand why you are so aggressive behind closed doors. All the pent-up tension you hold onto for ungodly amounts of time. You’re a classic example of money not making a person’s life better. You audition women before you date them, most being suggestions from your friends and family. And the escort service.”

She paused, shaking her head, but smiling. “Believe it or not, I get it. You don’t have the time or energy to invest in the search. And it’s convenient if you’re not ready for anything long term. You don’t have to deal with the messiness of breakups. Trust me. I know. However, you can have anyone you want, so I believe you’re selling yourself short.”

I want you.

The embarrassment I thought I would feel was minimal as I continued to listen to her quote me a rundown of my life. She knew more than I assumed as she shined light on issues I intended to but had been reluctant to tackle.

“All you do is work. Don’t take vacations. You’re hunted like a thief in the night by mobs of paparazzi, so your private life is probably crap. When do you get time for yourself? When do you incorporate fun into your life? I’ll answer for you. Never. You need me way more than I think you realize.”

The fact that she knew my secrets was of no consequence because I didn’t get the sense that she was judging me. It appeared her intentions were to help.

“So, Doctor Saint-Pierre, you think I hold onto my tension and aggression too long?” The hint of sarcasm in my voice rang free as I fought a smile.

“Hell yes! Ninety percent of your phone was work related. I was bored as hell, not even a dick pic. You’re a damn work-a-holic, and maybe too far gone to be saved.”

A hardy chuckle shook my shoulders, enjoying her ribbing, although her statements held truth. I knew I worked too much, had known it for years, and was reminded of it every time I planned a vacation and canceled it to work. “You think I need to be saved?”

“Shit yes. You need saving before you drown under a sea of boredom, profit margins, and bottom lines.”

“How do you propose I stay successful, if I don’t work hard at improving and maintaining what I have devoted so much time to?”

“It’s simple. Find a healthy balance. Be willing to sacrifice something, even if it’s profits to give back to yourself. You make tons of money, probably make in a day what I make in a year, yet you don’t take the time to enjoy it, all while working a job I bet you don’t even like.”

She forced me to think and was sounding more like a psychologist over the woman who had spied on me and dared me to challenge her control over this date. However, it was my turn. There were some things I wanted to know about her.

“I need you to tell me about you and TK. What does he mean to you? How would you define your relationship with him?” My swift change in conversation had her eyeballing me with a mean glare. I didn’t like the man, but what truly bothered me was the chemistry I noticed between them. It was part of the reason I had stalked and dragged her into that bathroom, intending to talk, but taking things much further.

“I have a very few people, by few, I mean two, that I consider friends, TK is one of them. There are no romantic ties, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

“But you’re attracted to him, and if not for the friendship, you would sleep with him. I’m sure you already know, he wouldn’t be opposed to climbing into your bed if you allowed it.”

Her face bunched. I believed she avoided thinking too deeply into her and TK’s relationship, just as she was avoiding my attempts at fostering one with her. I sat patiently, awaiting her response as she gathered her thoughts.

“Yes, I can admit I’m attracted to TK, and a time or two, I considered sleeping with him. I’m also aware that he’d like to take our relationship to the next level. However, I’ve never crossed the line with him and have been honest with him on where I stand with relationships. I’ve known TK for nearly four years and hadn’t given into the flirting temptation between us and believe I never will.”

“He’s going to push harder for your attention once he realizes you’re with me.” I enjoyed the expressive looks my budding interest put on her face. If our relationship flourished the way I believed it could, TK was going to be a problem. Plus, he had years of history with her on his side.

“But, I’m not with you,” she reminded. I don’t know if she believed what she was saying, I didn’t.

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