I jerk my arm forward. “Adrian, what’s going on?”
He’s the one who explains things, who takes care of things. If I have an issue, I tell him, and it’s fixed immediately,either by him personally, one of his scary brothers, or by the legion of employees and henchmen at their command. Life doesn’t work for him like it does for everyone else. Nothing tragic happens in Adrian Maddox’s world. Nothing is a problem.
Oh God, my hearthurts. I go to press my fist against it, to staunch the pain, but Winnie’s there in her carrier, so I uncurl my fingers and rest my palm on her back. She squeals again and stiffens her legs. Oh, no.
Not now.
She’s working on a poop.
“Schmidt,” Adrian growls. “Get them out of herenow.” People jump when he uses that tone of voice. Delaney tenses, but she stays put and keeps her mouth shut.
Adrian is in charge. Here and everywhere. When you have as much money as he does, you don’t usually have to ask twice or raise your voice.
“Schmidt!” he barks.
Schmidt murmurs to me, his hand tugging my sleeve, but his words don’t register. It’s like he’s talking underwater.
There’s a glitch in the matrix.
I’m the glitch.
I’m not supposed to be here.
I wasneversupposed to be here.
I was wrong. I made a terrible mistake. The floor is crumbling under my feet.
Schmidt tugs my shirt harder. I look back over my shoulder. He has resettled Pearl on his hip, her head tucked into his shoulder so she can’t see. Tiller is pushing the button to hold the elevator door open.
“Come on,” Schmidt says, gently drawing me backward. “Let’s take the little ones somewhere else, please, Mrs. Maddox.”
Tiller holds out his hand. I take it. Behind me, Adrianmakes a sound almost like a snarl, but I can’t see why. My back is turned to him now.
His face blank and businesslike, Tiller guides me onto the elevator and taps theclosebutton as fast as he can, several times, like a woodpecker.
Adrian didn’t even take his pants all the way off. He didn’t even push them down past his ass. He just unzipped them. He was still wearing a cummerbund and bowtie, too. Where did he go tonight? It’s a Thursday. He didn’t say he had plans.
I look at Schmidt, my forehead furrowing. He drops his hand so Pearl can raise her head. She blinks at me in confusion with wide blue eyes exactly like mine. My eyes are cornflower blue, and my hair is cornsilk blonde. That’s what Adrian always says—cornflower blue, cornsilk blonde.
He loves my blue eyes and blonde hair. Everyone I’ve ever met has, too, but he’s the only one who’s ever called themcornflowerblue.Cornsilkblonde. Like those are the rarest and best shades of blue and blonde.
According toForbes, this year he’s the seventh richest man in the world. He and his brothers are always jockeying with each other for position in the top twenty. He could have a woman with any shade of hair he wanted—two or three or four of them at a time—but he wantedme.
And Delaney, the redhead.
“I’m going to puke,” I mumble.
Immediately, Tiller is at my back, unbuckling the baby carrier and easing Winnie away from my achy boobs. She’s overdue for a feed, and she’s still stiff as a board and grunting. I usually pump her legs or rub her tummy to move things along, but I can’t help her now. I fold over and heave into the corner, retching over and over, but nothing comes up.
I didn’t have dinner. I wasn’t hungry. Even though Iwouldn’t admit it to myself until this moment, I was worried. Adrian sounded off on the phone earlier this evening. He said he was exhausted, but he’s never tired. He wakes up at five o’clock in the morning to row for an hour, works at least twelve hours a day, and does another hour or two in the gym.
I remember now.
On the phone, there was a moment when we’d both fallen silent. A fraction of a second. A door must’ve opened in the background. I heard faint music and a woman’s voice calling his name.
It was so quick—and so horrible—my mind refused to register it, but my body did. My stomach coiled into a knot, and the only way I could make myself feel better was to go see my husband who makes everything okay. So, I packed my babies into the car and drove an hour into the city, so we could all interrupt his director of finance riding his dick.
My stomach heaves, and I retch, and still, nothing comes up.
