I understood how difficult it was to admit when the relationship was finally over, but unlike Ashton, I doubted I would have had the courage to have ever pulled the plug on my dying marriage. The option wasn’t given to me anyway. I took another sip of my wine, just as the doorbell rang.
“Shit.” I placed the wine on the coaster and headed to the front door. I had forgotten all about Collier Maxwell. He had made plans last night to come over today, and he had called me earlier this afternoon to confirm again. I told him that I couldn’t wait to see him, but that was before I had met up with Ashton.
Leaving out of the restaurant after Ashton’s temper tantrum, the last thing that had been on my mind was boring ass Collier. I had meant to call him and cancel, but I had completely forgotten because I felt so guilty about how I had handled Ashton. Collier was a payroll executive for some branding company, and all he wanted to talk about was his boring job.
I pulled the door open and plastered a fake smile on my face. He stood at the door with dessert and a bottle of wine.
He had wanted to take me out to dinner tonight, but I declined, because I knew I was having dinner at Dawson Castle’s. If I had known how Ashton would react, I probably would have finished dinner first and shown him those pictures later.
“Hey, baby. I brought your favorite: tiramisu cheesecake and Merlot.”
“You’re so sweet,” I replied, kissing his lips and closing the door behind him.
I already knew he wasn’t the one for me, which was why he would be gone from my life in no time. I would have no regrets either. The man simply didn’t pay attention. Tiramisu cheesecake was not my favorite dessert. I had no idea whose in the hell it was, but it wasn’t mine.
“How was your day?” I asked after we had settled down with the cheesecake and poured the wine.
“God, you wouldn’t believe what a bunch of idiots we have working for us. We had thousands of employees contacting us this morning, because they didn’t receive their payroll deposits at midnight. Who in the hell stays up all night to check to see if their pay will hit their accounts at midnight?”
Rolling my eyes, I forked a piece of cheesecake in my mouth and muttered, “People who desperately need their money.”
“I guess,” he replied dismissively and shoved a huge bite into his mouth.
Collier rambled on about the payroll snafu. I half listened and half ate my cheesecake. My thoughts were not in the here and now. I was still stuck at that restaurant, trying to make amends for some shit that I shouldn’t have done in the first place.
By the time he finished talking and realized that I was barely responding, we had polished off the bottle of wine.
“Baby, what’s on your mind?”
I released a long, drawn-out sigh. “I did something I didn’t want to do today.”
“Like what? You know I’m a great listener.”
“In order to protect the magazine, my source, and my story, you know that I cannot reveal the details. I will say that I had to inform someone of something happening in their life that they were unaware of. I felt horrible, Collier. I didn’t want to from the jump, but the editor at LSM insisted on it. He’s been pushing me to get the story done.”
I had two careers. The first was my role as a sports journalist for Legendary Sports Magazine, where I got my start. The other was as a sideline reporter for Bolton Sports, my dream job.
“Baby, don’t be so hard on yourself and take it so seriously. It's just a job.” He grabbed our plates and utensils and took them to the kitchen.
Those words struck a nerve in me. He had no idea how hard I worked my ass off to get “just that job,” or the disrespect that I endured until I made a name that most of them, not all of them, could respect at the end of the day. The ones who didn’t respect it knew enough not to fuck with me.
“I mean, at the end of the day, you have to let it go.”
“Well, I hate to break the news to you, Collier, but it’s more than just a job. It’s someone’s life that I possibly destroyed today. The same way you felt about the people who didn’t get paid, is the same way I feel about this situation. The only difference is that you were able to straighten that shit out and get those folks paid. This person can never go back to life as they knew it.” I was heated.
“Guess what, Chanel? In the end, they did get paid, and so are the wealthy athletes that you interview. So you shouldn’t waste too much time on it.” He walked up behind me from the kitchen. “I need you to relax. It’s Friday, and we need to unwind from the long week we’ve had.”
Collier massaged my shoulders and neck to help me relax. “In two weeks, we’re going away to Sorrel Island. Just you and me for four days of relaxation, fun, peace, sex, and all the tropical drinks your heart can take.”
I moaned. “That does sound good,” I whispered.
A tiny voice in my head reminded me that was exactly what Zoe “Muffin” Santoro had done—go away to an island for tropical drinks, fun, and sex—and that was what was breaking her husband’s heart. I had gotten my hands soiled in the commission of trying to strike a fatal blow for a story.
Collier’s lips moved over my jaw, neck, and shoulder as he alternated sucking me in those places with kissing me in thoseplaces. My eyes grew heavy, and all I wanted was to climb into bed and go to sleep. I felt bad because I wasn’t in the mood for sex tonight.
Yet, I couldn’t find the words to tell Collier that, as he moved in front of me and untied my robe. His cold hands cupped my breasts gently before he lowered his head to take one into his hot mouth.
Every now and then, Collier would stare into my eyes and mutter, “Relax.” I knew that he could feel the tension in my body. I could not erase the burden of guilt that I carried.
