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“What do you want to ask me, Emma?” He leans against the elevator wall, perching his butt against the handrail while casually sprawling back and crossing his ankles. His hands are in his pockets, looking at the floor. I’ve seen this Prince Carrero pose so many times before, relaxed in his domain. I eye him warily and push down my rejections to his manhandling.
“Ray Vanquis,” I utter quietly. He looks up, but I’m unable to meet his eyes. He stands upright and steps toward me when I don’t say anything else.
“Has he contacted you?” he growls, his anger evident with each word. “What has he done? Has he hurt you?” His hand grabs my wrist, pulling me to him harshly. There is a fire in his eyes, an instant rage almost boiling over. His body is hunching in toward me like a protective shield, and his face is terrifying, all sharp angles and simmering fury.
“No, Jake. No, I promise.” I resist the urge to recoil, knowing he’d never hurt me. He relaxes a little, letting me loose so I can move back, agitation covering his face.
“I would kill him this time, I swear.” He grits his teeth, then runs his hand through his cropped hair, trying to bring some calm to his demeanor, yet only messing up his neatness. I’ve missed protective Jake; seeing him like this makes me ache and tugs at my heart as I watch him. The urge to fix that ruffled hair almost overwhelms me. His stance is rigid, as though ready to fight.
“Jake …,” I sigh, “I need to know what happened after Chicago?” I gaze at him, frowning, imploring his eyes to meet mine.
“Why?” He’s instantly evasive, and my suspicions increase.
“Something happened then?” I push, the tone of his ‘Why?’ confirming more to me than he’d have ever told me if I hadn’t brought it up.
“What makes you think that?” He’s trying his smooth ‘I can talk myself out of anything’ routine, moving back to the wall, leaning against it stiffly this time. I know this side of him. I know when he’s covering.
“Because men like Ray don’t up and run the way he did. He broke it off with my mother and disappeared.” I keep my tone gentle; I don’t want a fight. I want the truth, and going up against Jake with anger never works.
“Did you think I would just forget it, Emma? Come home and not do anything?” His eyes flame with aggression, and the heat rises in my cheeks.
“What did you do?” My voice is quiet and unsure. I’ve never known this side of Jake, and although I’m glad, I’m also scared by what he’s potentially done.
“You want details, Emma, or confirmation?” He moves forward closer to me, extracting the air from my lungs. I can’t think when he’s so close and almost touching me.
“I don’t know.” My voice cracks, and he sighs, tracing a knuckle down my cheek slowly; my body flinches, but I don’t pull away. His touch ignites a million sensations across my skin, weakening my knees. The urge to close my eyes and savor this is overwhelming, but I resist.
Fight it. Don’t let him affect you. Be strong.
“All you need to know is that it was made clear to him that you and your mother are out of bounds. That should he ever reappear, there will be consequences, Emma. Worse than what I did to him in Chicago. That’s all.” His voice is low, our faces so close I can breathe him in, and it’s heady. The ache to kiss him is overwhelming as he pauses so close to my mouth, his eyes stopping on my lips briefly. An odd, paused moment runs between us, a tense static crackle I swear ignites in the air, and then he steps back, moving away. I almost stop breathing.
“Are we done here?” He sighs with deflation and a hint of returned hostility. The elevator pings almost at his request and opens as two men get in, and I nod at him, working my way out to the hall. He follows me for a second, holding the door open, and both of us suddenly stiff again with other people's appearance.
“If you ever hear from him again, you come to me … no matter what.” His dark glare sends a shiver down my spine. I nod obediently, watching him, knowing that he means it. He gazes at me with a satisfied smirk and returns to the elevator, eyes glued to mine as the door closes, blocking him from view. I stand transfixed, staring at the elevator doors, feeling like I’ve been ravaged. I hate that he does this to me anytime he’s close to me.
Pushing down the crazy turmoil inside, I move to another elevator and wait until a door opens to return to my floor. I need to get back to my desk to recover from all that is Jake and process what he’s just told me.
* * *
Back at my desk, I switch my desk phone off of voicemail and turn my mobile back on. There’s already a notification waiting for me; an email from Jake. I sigh in frustration as I open it, torn between happiness and anger.
“Jake Carrero has sent you an iTunes gift.”
“I Will Find You” by Clannad.
I guess it’s a joke about his stalker tendencies; apparently, he'll find me no matter where I go. He won’t let me leave New York - at this rate, I’m sure I’m not even going to be allowed to leave this company. I sigh and throw my cell down in agitation.
We’ll see about that, Carrero.
I’ve no idea which way is up or down anymore; Jake sends me away and acts like he doesn’t know me. The next thing I know, he’s all over my life, trying to tell me what to do and sending me songs. I’m more confused than I thought possible. He’s like a roller-coaster ride with his emotions, and it seems my feelings are taking their cue from him.
It’s all got to stop. These stupid feelings and emotions. At least he confirmed my doubts about Ray Vanquis.
Do I never have to worry about him again? Will Ray stay out of my mother’s life for good?
If he doesn’t, I can only imagine what Jake will do. He isn’t someone you mess with. For all his outward charm and laid-back manner, Jake has a dangerous side. I’ve seen it before, briefly. Having his money and power means the sky has no limits. He could make someone disappear if he wanted to. He certainly has the mindset to do it. His family has ties with the mafia; they keep it out of the media attention and deny the links, but they are old-world Italian. His grandfather founded this company amid rumors of mafia blood money, stories Jake has never denied nor confirmed. I shudder at the thought but somehow take comfort from it. Whether he is in my life or not, he’s protecting me … still, his power is reaching out and sheltering me from afar. I could never hate him for that; he is the only person I’ve ever met who cared enough to do that for me. That’s why it hurt so much when he pushed me away, knowing I had to give him up.
* * *
The afternoon goes by uneventfully; Jake let me be. Despite my shock at hearing from him and then seeing him, I’m again wavering over my decision to leave this place. In one day, he’s taken me down, then up, and back down again; from almost crying in rage to smiles, then back to complete desolation as I realize we have no reason to see one another again. All his visit has done is remind me of how much I miss him, his humor, charisma, and even his anger. I miss his beauty and ability to change moods like the wind. I miss every part of him, and it makes me cry inside. Seeing him only highlighted how far I am from getting over him.
Wilma doesn’t mention his appearance at all. I’m so bogged down with work that the afternoon goes by quickly. After most of the office staff leave, I make up the lost two hours. I like having this quiet time to work through everything Wilma has asked of me. Focusing on work helps me ignore my thoughts of Jake and forget all about today and seeing him again.
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