Page 17 of Buy Me, Love
That’s when my heart leaps into my throat. The corner of a photo is sticking out of the envelope, and when I grab it to bring it into my lap to slide the envelope’s contents out, I’m met with a photo of my very ownface.
And it’s not just one photo. It’s worse than that; it’s what looks like paparazzi photos. From far away, candid shots of me doing all sorts of stuff. Sitting on a bench at the park, walking into the animal shelter I volunteer at inSoHo.
“What the actualfuck?”
I crane my neck to glance up at the second floor landing for any signs of movement from our room. Is this the thing he had to tell me? That he’s been…stalking me? Nausea rises in my throat and I shake my head indisbelief.
Why? Why would he have been doing this? Thoughts tumble through my mind as my lips purse and my eyesnarrow.
I don’t fucking get this. Now, do I stay around for an explanation or do I book it the hell on up out ofhere?
Whatever is going on here, this isn’t adetail. This a bombshell. One that I don’t intend on sticking around to hear the explanationto.
I shove the photos back into the glove compartment and swing the car door open. My fingers fumble with the key fob and they’re trembling so badly that I drop it, but instead of picking it up I just run. I run to the front office in my red heart slippers and barge inside. The man behind the desk takes his feet down and clears histhroat.
“May I help you,m’am?”
“Yes,” I breathe, throwing my palms against the counter. “Can you call me a cab to thecity?”
12
Maxwell
I stepout of the shower with a towel tucked against my hip and another around my shoulders. I intend on bringing Kit back to the city today so I can sit down with her and explain in detail what my intentionsare.
And I have many of them. Least of which is giving her an engagement ring with a diamond the size ofManhattan.
I run a hand through my hair and take a look at myself in the mirror before making my way back out to the room. A cold feeling rushes over me where I expected there to be warmth. The room is empty and the energy has shifted. Is it possible for the energy in a room to shift soquickly?
Yeah. I know it’s possible. Last night. It happened at the auction last night. One minute I was watching her from afar and the next my fate had been sealed. My eyes travel along the ceiling as I pinch the bridge of mynose.
This girl turned has me into a softie in onenight.
It’s Saturday. On Saturday mornings, Kit has a standing appointment at her father’s spa. Well, that shit’s cancelled effective immediately. I’ll go to massage school if it means I can keep everyone else’s hands off my woman. For the time being, I’ll just do what she says feels good. Lower, higher, harder, deeper. I’ll practice until I get itright.
All I want to do for the rest of my life is protect her. Keep her safe and sweet, innocent and pure. And since I’ll be the only one who lays a hand on her, I’ll get to keep her the way she is. Sweet. Too sweet. I must have racked up some serious karma in a former life to be so lucky in this one to have an angel like her dropped into mylap.
An angel, a handful, aspitfire.
Now where the hell isshe?
I walk over to the door and pull it open, half-expecting her to be standing on the other side. Playing around with me, pulling a prank? No clue why she’d think it was funny to be hiding from me, but - she can be an odd duck at times. When she isn’t there, a cool gust of wind enters mybones.
I shut the door and turn around, plowing a hand through my hair. My gaze lands on the table and everything’s there except my car keys. I feel a smile pull at my lips and I quickly pull my pants and shoes on to goinvestigate.
Taking the steps two-by-two, I spot my car still parked where it was before. When I get to it, puzzlement ping-pongs throughme.
“Kit?” I yell, turning around to face the parking lot. My voice lands on asphalt and trees, muffled by the nearby highway. I swallow thickly as panic starts to flare inme.
I shout her name again, putting my hands around my mouth for volume. I lace my hands on the back of my head and scan the area, walking in a circle around the car, and feel something crunch under my shoe. I look down and discover my key fob. Pressing my palms to the driver-side window I see that the glove compartment is open and several photos of Kit are spilling out of anenvelope.
I shout her name one more time into the fresh morning air, but I know she’s alreadygone.
13
Kit
I’m stillin my pajamas when I get off the elevator on the floor of my father’s offices. It’s Saturday, but in the city that never sleeps, my father also doesn’t know the meaning of aweekend.
