Chapter Twelve

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Everleigh

After a quick shower and a can of Red Bull, I pulled on a pair of jeans, a plain t-shirt, gray hoodie, and a baseball cap, having listened to Callie to take it upon myself to visit Jaxon at his penthouse building.

Wasn't cheap. Twenty minutes and fifty bucks later, I'd arrived at Midtown West.

I'd barely closed the cab door when I'd seen Jaxon exit the front building, adjusting his cufflinks and walking towards a waiting car.

He was all man—hot, dressed to impress, and exquisite.

I was near ready to call out to him when the same girl that I bumped into marched right up to him. I recognized her instantly.

A quick and disturbing thought jabbed at me. She clearly knew him.

Looking up as she approached, he paused.

Out of all the people of New York City, she bumped into me, then was in front of him. That couldn't have been a coincidence. Without thinking, I weaved between traffic, horns blaring angrily.

"Jaxon?" the raw agony of all that I was enduring tore into every fiber of my being.

Both of them glanced in my direction.

I watched as the girl glanced back at Jaxon before she reached out and grabbed his arm. "Please, just listen to what I have to say." She pleaded.

Anger burned hell-hot as his gaze reverted back to her.

"Go home to your husband, Gloria." Hate was in his voice, hard and cruel.

He turned to me, offering a hand. "Come with me." I reached out, and he guided me straight into the awaiting car.

He barely closed the door when she began slamming her hands against the window.

"You have to listen to me." She screamed, distraught. "Please..."

"Drive!" Jaxon said to his driver.

As we pulled out and drove away, I looked out the back window.

"Do you know her?" I asked, still watching the girl looking right at me as we drove away.

"Kinda. It's a long story. Why did you come here?"

I stared at him. Was he angry at me? Or shocked? I couldn't quite tell.

Deciding not to tell him I recognized the girl, I shifted to face him. "You didn't come to see me." I blurted out. "I get thrown into this media circus, and I have no idea what to do."

He linked his fingers with mine, brushing a gentle kiss on my hand. I was shocked at the impact of his gentle grip. "I'm sorry." He captured my eyes with his. "I never intended on anyone finding out about you."

Why? Was he embarrassed? A knot of tension started in my stomach and climbed upward, threatening to choke me. "I don't understand what's happening."

"I can explain everything, but not here. Not like this." My heart thumped erratically. "Then where?"

"Your place. Right now. Nigel, please take us to Downtown Manhattan, Rose Bank, apartment building 7a."

"Right away, sir." When we arrived at my apartment, he ordered his driver to take the rest of the day off. Sent a few emails before turning his phone off and giving me his undivided attention.

I'd barely closed the front door of my apartment when he pulled me into his arms.

"I missed you." He breathed against my lips in between sweet, lingering kisses.

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