Deception (Infidelity #3)(70)
“I am,” I admitted as I shrugged and lifted the spoon near my lips, “I can’t explain it. It’s not as if I’ve forgotten about Chelsea. I haven’t. I have no idea what’s happening with her. I hope to figure it out, but in the meantime, there’s something about Nox that I’ve never experienced before. He makes me feel…” My breakfast began to blur with welling tears. “…special.”
Patrick stepped down from the barstool and came around the counter, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. His cologne filled my senses, making me smile. “Don’t cry. You deserve this. It doesn’t matter how it happened. Don’t think about that. I feel the same way about Cy. We’re the lucky ones.”
A twinge of guilt settled over me—I hadn’t been thinking about Infidelity. Instead of correcting his assumptions, I said, “Damn, Pat, you smell great! I’m surprised Cy doesn’t keep that cologne locked up. I mean, it’s divine!”
Patrick’s brown eyes sparkled. “He’s coming home tonight. After the wake-up I heard this morning, I’m not sorry we’ll have the place to ourselves.”
“You’re kicking me out?”
“Never! I assumed that Mr. Good-looking wanted you home.”
It was true, he did. But I felt refreshingly playful. “Then you’re saying that I cramp your style?”
Pat took a step back and swept his hand over his chest. “Do I look like my style is ever cramped?”
I laughed. “No, not at all. But you’re right. I’m going back to our place tonight. Thanks for letting me stay.”
“You know that you’re always welcome.”
“Always? Even when you’re wanting alone time?” I wiggled my brows.
He kissed my forehead. “Always.”
After my breakfast, I packed my few things, called Clayton, and wheeled my luggage with my backpack and purse down to the lobby. No sooner had I stepped from the glass doors that my driver pulled up to the curb.
“After you drop me off at class, can you please take my things back to Mr. Demetri’s apartment?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
That was the extent of our conversation as we weaved through the morning traffic, moving from the Upper East to the Upper West Side.
AS THE KEY turned in the lock of our apartment door, my chest constricted with an unhealthy sense of trepidation. It had been three days since I’d walked out of here. Three days since I’d read the letter.
Did I know any more than I had that night?
I knew that Nox had implied that he felt a responsibility in Jocelyn’s death, but never had he said he’d hurt her. My heart refused to allow that possibility to linger in my thoughts. I took a deep breath. My complicated man wasn’t ready to tell me more, and as curious as I was, I respected his privacy as he had mine.
The aroma of heaven in the oven met me as I opened the door. Without hesitation, I dropped my backpack near the door, secured the locks, entered my code on the keypad, and made my way toward the kitchen.
The table near the large windows was set for two, complete with unlit candles. The way the wax beaded along the tall spindles made my tummy flip and lower muscles clench—after our night in Del Mar, I’d never look at candle wax the same way again. Wine glasses were waiting for their contents while plates awaited our meal. A bottle of oil sat near the candles and next to a basket of bread, its crust crisp while the center appeared decadently soft.
On the counter I found a note from Lana and grinned as I read what she wrote:
Miss Collins/Mr. Demetri,
I trust that this won’t be another meal that I end up dishing into your trash. I hope you enjoy it. It is the menu you requested.
Happy dining,
Lana
I hadn’t requested it. That meant Nox had.
The way my stomach growled told me that I had no intention of letting this meal join the others that had apparently been thrown away. I eased the oven door open. Hot air hit my face warming the chain of my new necklace as a brief burning sensation surrounded my neck. Reaching for the platinum cage holding the pearl, I inhaled the succulent scent. Cheeses bubbled with red sauce in the pan of lasagna. I had the distinct feeling that Lana wouldn’t use frozen meatballs if she were to make spaghetti.
I checked my phone to see if I’d received a text from Nox. In the short time we’d lived together, he was pretty good at letting me know if he was to be late.
There was only one text. It was from Jane’s phone, but I knew before I read the message that it wasn’t from Jane.
Mother: “I’M SORRY YOU DON’T WANT TO COME HOME OR TALK. THIS ISN’T ABOUT WHAT HAPPENED OR YOUR REFUSAL TO COME HOME. THERE IS SO MUCH I SHOULD HAVE TOLD YOU. TIME WAS RUNNING OUT. BUT I’VE SINCE LEARNED MORE.
I NEED TO TELL YOU. I KNOW IF I DO, YOU’LL KNOW WHAT TO DO. ALEXANDRIA, YOU’RE SO SMART. SO INDEPENDENT. SO MUCH LIKE YOUR FATHER. PLEASE AGREE TO SEE ME. I’LL MEET YOU IN NEW YORK. ALTON WILL BE LEAVING NEXT WEEK. CALL THIS PHONE AND TALK TO JANE. LET HER KNOW WHEN WOULD BE THE BEST TIME.
I’M NOT TRYING TO INTERRUPT YOUR SCHOOLING. BUT THIS NEW INFORMATION IS VITAL TO BOTH OUR FUTURES.
PLEASE, PLEASE, RESPOND.
LOVE, YOUR MOMMA”
I stared down at the screen and wished that it would all go away. I wished that it had never happened, that she’d never married Alton, that my father had never died. I wished for a life of happiness and security.