Page 71 of Finding You
She sighed and arched into me. I was addicted to touching her, and this light petting wasn’t enough for me. She began to rub her ass up against me, and I felt my vision get blurry. Her need was as great as my own, and it made my heart soar.
I grabbed her by the waist and threw her over my shoulder.
“Declan, what are you doing?”
I smacked her once on the ass, hard. “I’m taking you to bed, beautiful, where I’m going to ravage you.”
There was a pause, and I could hear her heavy breathing. “Then please proceed,” she replied enthusiastically. I spanked her again for good measure and headed to my room.
I wanted her naked. All day every day. And I also wanted to talk to her. Because she was smart, insightful, and passionate despite the frosty exterior. We had fun together. And she brought out a side of me that was rarely seen. With her I was goofy and sweet and playful. All adjectives no one would ever use to describe me under pain of death. I wasn’t a people person. But I was an Astrid person. She was meant for me. That was all there was to it. I never saw myself as the settling down type. I never believed that there was someone out there who would be compatible with me. But I was wrong. She was here—in my life and in my bed—and I was going to fight like hell to keep her.
27
ASTRID
Things had beengreat with Declan. We were in a pattern of cooking dinner, watchingGame of Thrones, and then making love all night. I was tired and sore and had recently discovered the joy of an afternoon nap. Sometimes Ginger joined me, snuggling up with me on the tiny cottage couch watching the fire. I was content and happy and not as bored as I thought I’d be.
Winter was stretching on endlessly, but we were making our own fun. One night Declan brought home a two-thousand-piece puzzle and a bottle of whiskey. How did he know I loved puzzles? We stayed up most of the night, drank the entire bottle, and ended up making love on the living room floor in front of the fire.
My height came in handy. Declan was endlessly creative in bed. He was always coming up with hotter and dirtier ways to get me off. We realized that we could use my height to our advantage, making stand up sex, against the wall sex, and even shower sex much more fun. Days passed in a blur of sex, delicious meals, Krav Maga classes, and hanging out with my new girlfriends. I read books, took walks with Ginger, and drank endless cups of coffee.
Of course all good things come to an end.
I was tidying up the cottage in preparation for Declan to come over when my phone rang with an unknown New York number.
“Hello.”
“Yes, hi. I am looking for Astrid Wentworth?” The voice on the other end was pleasant but sounded nervous.
“This is she.”
“Hello, Astrid. This is Monica Sweeting Walsh calling.” My heart dropped into my stomach. I had given up hope weeks ago that she would reach out. I knew what was coming, and it was the last thing I wanted to deal with right now.
“Thank you so much for reaching out, Monica.”
“No, thank you. I’m sorry it took me so long to respond. Revisiting this chapter of my life is… difficult.”
“I appreciate it,” I replied, not sure where to begin. I can’t come right out and ask, but I needed to know if she had the same experience I did. I didn’t want to push this poor woman—I barely knew her—but my desire for justice outweighed these concerns.
“I suppose you want to know what happened when I left Burns & Glenn?”
“Yes.”
“Five years ago I was assigned to work with Max Shapiro on a very tricky transaction. I was just a fourth year associate, and I was honored to be trusted with such important work. Max Shapiro was a really big deal in the New York office. So we worked together. He was tough but fair and a really good legal mentor. Then he made a move. I resisted a few times at first. But then he got more aggressive. Told me he would give me a bad review if I didn’t. We ended up having an affair for a year. It was horrible. We had to keep everything a secret, and I felt so dirty. He told me he and his wife had separated and she had custody of his kids. That was a lie. They were very much married, and he would leave my apartment on Saturday mornings to go to his kids’ soccer games.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“It was terrible. I was afraid to break things off with him, and I felt pressured to keep sleeping with him. I was only twenty-nine and didn’t know how to navigate the power dynamics. I got really depressed and ended up developing a drinking problem. I was in a really low place. He systematically destroyed my self-esteem and lied to me constantly. I didn’t trust myself anymore, and I was convinced that I would have no career if I stood up for myself.”
My heart broke. I knew what that felt like. I knew what it was like to be impressionable and awestruck by the brilliant legal mind and drawn in to his web of bullshit lies.
“By the time I worked up the courage to break up with him, I was pretty much destroyed. He gave me a bad review, and suddenly no one wanted to work with me. The firm sat me down and told me I didn’t have a future there, so I chose to quietly resign.”
“Did you tell anyone about what he did to you?”
“Yes. I went to HR and then to my supervising partner. They said it was my word against his and since we had a consensual relationship there was nothing they could do. I was too depressed. I believed it was my fault. I was lucky to escape with some semblance of a career.”
She took a deep breath. “But things have changed. I got help, got sober, and met my husband. We had a baby girl last year and I’m really doing well. I am at a small firm doing what I love. I have moved past Max Shapiro and his narcissistic bullshit.”
