The day is tiring, and my hair has endlessly stuck to my face in this humidity. Vegas is hot and dusty and I’m still grumpy and tired. We flew out here right after Sophie was taken away by the care worker and Jake’s mother, Sylvana Carrero. The beautiful, kind goddess, who looks so alarmingly like her son, but in a very feminine way. I love her in every way; anytime I meet her, she has this easy charm and stunning green eyes and the ability to put you at ease, much like he does.
I fought tears when hugging Sophie goodbye; our time together so short, yet she has come to mean so much to me. Jake bought her a new cell and pre-set both of our numbers and emails into it as a parting gift, that way we can always stay in touch and she knows we will be there if she needs us. We are to be her eternal guardians in life, and I know that from this day on, I will always be in Sophie’s story. We have a bond like no other. We understand each other.“Want to try thThe casino is everything I imagined it would be; I’ve watched enough episodes of CSI to not be awed at the splendor of the vast red carpeted room, filled with machines and tables and noise. He tries his luck at a few tables and soon looks bored. He’s never been much of a gambler; he likes to have situations laid out in a way that he controls the players and always wins. It’s why he’s his father’s second in command with his inherited skills. Although after the Hunter merger, I’m beginning to think his skills surpass that of Senior, seeing he knew how to play him well.“You want to hit a club instead of this?” he’s close to me and I can already tell he’s fed up with the casino. I glance at a couple of women appraising him up and down and am mildly irritated. Maybe I should point him in the direction of the two leggy blondes and go back to the room. Have my quiet night after all. Seeing them look him over like fresh meat
In the car he lays me down flat on my back and pulls off my shoes, cradling my feet in his lap with warm sensual hands kneading them softly, avoiding conversation or eye contact; I nestle my head against the door to stop the world spinning.His hands are exquisite on my ankles and feet and it feels better than good; no one’s ever taken my shoes off like this. No one has ever just run soft fingers over my feet at all, the way he’s doing now. He’s gentle and attentive, something most people would not expect of Jake Carrero. Handsy, but not in a sleazy way, not really, despite all his jokes and sexual innuendos. He just always makes me feel safe.“Why are you stealing my shoes?” I mumble playfully, trying not to squirm in case he stops. “I like those shoes.” I’m angling for humorous Jake, flirty Jake. I like arguing with him, he’s always funny; I don’t like this silent, pondering version, even though I’m sure h
“Emma,” he breaths sharply. Jake hauls me toward him, trying to wrap his arms around me, but I don’t like it. I’m in memory mode and men’s unwelcome touch firing through my brain. I don’t want him to see me cry over this, not over these memories and those men. Not over that shit or Ray Vanquis. My mind is a chaos of rage and trauma.“Stop it … Stop it …” I’m resisting him, but he’s stronger and faster and I’m still drunk with slow reactions. The racking sobs making me weak and he’s determined to hold me.“Shhh. Shhhh. Emma. Shhh.” He captures me, cradling my head against his cheek, even though I’m still fighting, but I’m losing. I don’t like the noises coming from deep within me, like I’m spiraling out of control. I hate this. I’m not weak. I’m not vulnerable. The wails don’t sound like they’re coming from me and I push his hands
I spend the meeting the next day wearing Jake’s sunglasses and nursing a hangover. My eyes are puffy and sore and my head’s banging.He put me to bed last night and left me alone until our first meeting this morning; he didn’t even push at me to eat breakfast or jog with him for a change. I know he’s walking on eggshells waiting to see how I am. He’s giving me distance, or maybe he’s just looking at me and thinking I’m probably mentally broken and could fall apart any day now so he should handle with care.I’m in cool and grumpy mode and I’m really excelling at it. Covering my inner turmoil and regrets; so far, I think I’ve snapped at every person I’ve met in triplicate and Jake’s met my PMS face with a vengeance. He’s said nothing about it, no funny comments or sarcastic telling off’s, just frowned at me. He’s tugged my hand out of my hair repeatedly, which is down because I couldn&r
The dance is nice, very grand with an awesome Asian feel. There are lots of authentic looking costumes, drinks, and lots of sparkly things to eye up. There’s a whole host of speeches and droning speeches before the dance gets underway, and as usual, the flashing of a million cameras. I’m so used to them nowadays I never really notice anymore.“Dance, Miss. Anderson?” Jake’s back in charming and happy mode and dazzles me with a gorgeous relaxed smile.“Certainly, Mr. Carrero.” I take his hand and follow him through the crowd to join other guests; it’s a slow song and he moves me expertly. Dancing with Jake is fast becoming one of my favorite past times. Like everything he does, it’s with a smooth, confident capability that seems annoyingly easy for him.“It’s a good thing you have a young female PA.” I smile up at him, feeling relaxed in his embrace, letting myself ooze into him.“Why is
“I think you like getting me drunk, Jake.”“I like loosening you up, starchy pants. Makes it easier to get you naked.” He winks at me and that devilish smile reappears, a nearby waitress gawps at what she has overheard and moves away fast. I can only sigh and raise a brow at him.“You pay me to keep my pants starched remember, and on! If I was, Miss. Loose and lively, I would be a shitty PA.” We move to sit at an empty table amid my disapproving scold.“I don’t know, might be fun having a drunk PA. A naked one would be even better. Would love to see you endure a stuffy meeting in full blown drunk Emma mode. Not sure I would let others see you naked though.” He shrugs again, pulling out my chair and seating me at the table. He gestures for another waiter seeing as our server has taken off.“I probably wouldn’t be a hit … naked or not. Especially with the stuffed shirts you have meetings with.
We’re finally home and I’m standing in my apartment. Sarah isn’t here, as usual, only this time it vexes me. There’s a crap load of male things infused throughout the apartment, and that rank smell of Marcus’s aftershave is over everything. I’m also aware that in the whole time I’ve been gone, I have only heard from her via text, asking about my mother briefly. I know I shouldn’t be upset. I barely touch base with her either, but I assumed I would have at least one call. Seeing as I haven’t been home in a week or more.I march to my room and throw my suitcase down in agitation. I have two whole days at home for a change as Jake is shooting off to see his momma for her birthday, and for once, I’m not being dragged along for the occasion. I know Jake loves his mother and he wants some alone time with her; he has plans to take her on a shopping and spa day, her and her two sons.My room is depressing, after the weeks
I opt for jeans and a T-shirt and leave my hair in a ponytail loose, pushing thoughts of Marcus away as a minor irritation, and focus on the task at hand. If I’m going to be clearing out a mountain of clothes, then I would rather be comfy. It’s not lost on me that a few months ago I didn’t even own jeans, Jake mentioned that fact in sarcasm right at the beginning.What has Jake Carrero done to me?I haul a pile of clothes from the top of my dresser and dump it on my floor, followed by subsequent piles around my room and open my door so I can listen for Jake’s arrival.Jesus, that’s a lot of clothes!It’s almost half as tall as I am. I really need to clamp down on this excessive buying from Donna, it really is abusing the company assets, spending so much on stuff I don’t need. I haven’t even worn half of the things she sends my way. I’m like her own human sized dress up doll.I put the iPad in my docking s