Untamed (New York Unraveled #1) Page 6

  I debated on whether to run to Karen’s apartment or wait for her to come to me on my own. But my dilemma ended when she texted me to go to work and that she would meet me there itself.

  I released a sigh of relief. If she wanted to see me, I would convince her somehow. I would tell her how much she matters to me and how I didn't give a damn about her sister. Granted, it may be kind of tough to explain why I kept a picture of her in my closet but I would. She would understand.

  I buttoned up a coat and threw the picture out, trashing the last evidence that we had ever been together, and got into my car, taking my Jaguar this time because I wanted to drive and I wanted to drive fast. The wind lashed at my face and awakened me a little, giving me a good reality check and a clear mind.

  I would convince her. I didn't care what lengths I had to go to for that.

  And that was the moment when I realized I was in love with her.

  She took half a day to show her face. She was primly dressed in a white dress and wedges that showed off her long legs and a blazer to finish the ensemble. She looked as beautiful as ever, her face now clear of any sign of distress.

  "Hello, Mr. Black," she said, knocking on the door for formality.

  "Good afternoon, Ms. Miles. Is this the time to arrive at work?" I tapped my watch.

  "I got a little sidetracked," she replied.

  I held up an impatient hand. "Don't give me excuses. I will not tolerate such lackadaisical attitude from you again. Is that clear?"

  "My boyfriend told me you're an asshole. I should listen to him more often," she said, making a face at me.

  I smiled with evident relief. "You really should."

  She sashayed over to me and bent down to give me a quick kiss.

  "We're okay?" I asked.

  She nodded and turned to the work at hand with a determined face. When her gaze landed on my messy desk, she narrowed her eyes at me in disgust. "Two days I'm away, sir, just two days. And this is what you do?"

  "It's your job. You can't expect me to waste my precious time on such trivial matters." I dismissed her with a flick of my wrist.

  "It's not part of my job description to be your personal maid around the place. Learn to keep it clean. It's not that tough, you know?" She squatted down and pointed to each drawer in the desk as she spoke. "I've labeled every drawer for a particular kind of file. All you gotta do is keep them in place."

  I gave her a saccharine smile. "If you know so much about it, Ms. Miles, then why don't you do it yourself?"

  It was amazing to have her behave normally and work with me in our perfect synchronization. She knew what I needed and when I needed it, exactly like the perfect assistant she was. Even when we were less than cordial to each other, we did have a certain ease of camaraderie in the way we worked with each other. We were like the two hands of a clock. No matter how bad the time was, we knew how to tick in coordination.

  It was about seven in the evening when she came into my office with a deadbeat look and told me, "I need coffee if I'm gonna work. I'm going to Starbucks. You want some?"

  "We have a cafeteria downstairs. Why do you need to go all the way to Starbucks?" I asked.

  "Because." She whined. "I want good strong coffee with my name on the cup. Let me go." She stomped her foot.

  "Alright, alright. Go. Get me a cup too," I said, rolling my eyes at her childish behavior. Only she could get away with acting like this in front of me.

  I sat back and checked the appointments I had that day. I was booked for three more and I could bet most of them would be damned boring. Nothing seemed as much fun as Karen anymore.

  A knock on the door interrupted the steamy direction of my thoughts for which I was glad. I couldn't be sporting a hard on when I had work to do. "Come in," I said and regretted it a moment later when I looked up to see who it was.

  "Ashley?" I asked in disbelief. Even after eight years, she looked exactly like she used to, with slight variations. Her olive skin had become darker, clearly indicating how much she traveled. Her dark hair were now in a short pixie cut that she had sported wildly. It complemented the ripped jeans, combat boots and leather jacket she was wearing. If I wasn't so mad at her, I would've thought she had become hotter over the years.

  "Hi," she said shyly.

  "What are you doing here?" I said bluntly.

  She flinched, and then her expression smoothed out from a dawn of realization. "She didn't tell you, did she? I should've guessed."

  "Who didn't tell me what?" I snapped in impatience.

  "Karen. She forced me to come here and 'talk to you'. The only reason I came was because she said you had agreed to meet me," she calmly explained, unaffected by my rude tendencies.

  "She didn't say anything to me," I said.

  "Oh. Okay. Well, now that I'm here, maybe we could catch up?" she asked.

  I stared at her like she'd grown horns and a tail. Did she really expect me to talk to her after she broke my heart, stamped on it, ignored me for years and then only came to meet me because she was forced?

  "Not interested," I said shortly.

  "Hey, look." She took a hesitant step forward. "I know you're pissed. Royally so. And you have every right to be. But I'm sorry, okay? I'm really sorry."

  I dialed Karen's number on the table phone and put it on speaker. I wanted both of us to hear what she had to say. I didn't understand why she would subject me to her and not even tell me about it.

  "Karen Miles," came her clipped voice.

  "Funny story," I started, "So I was doing my own thing, trying to get my head into all the work you left me alone with, and then this chick walks in and tells me my girlfriend sent her. What am I supposed to make of that?" From my peripheral vision, I saw Ashley fidget with her hands and twist the multiple rings on her fingers randomly. It was a nervous habit she still hadn't managed to shake off.

  "Nathan, don't be a baby. Talk to her," she said exhaustedly.

  "I'm being a baby? I'm not the one who wasn't informed before being pushed assfirst into a pool of sharks," I said sarcastically.

  "Yes, you are being a baby. Can you act like a grown up for a change and talk? There are too many unresolved issues between you both, too many words that went unsaid. Say them now. Clear the air," she said.

  She was right. We had never even had a proper goodbye. I was too infuriated, too heartbroken, too weak to see her go and not run to stop her. I had told her to leave the moment she'd told me she would be doing exactly that in a week's time.

  "There's no air that needs to be cleared. Why the fuck are you doing this?" I said through my teeth. But I knew. She had said we were okay but she obviously thought that I still had feelings for her sister. Combined with her grieving mind and a self-destructive tendency to put everyone else before her, I wasn’t surprised she managed to convince herself I would be better off with Ashley.

  "Because I love you both," she said softly, "and I want you guys to be happy. And if you find that happiness with each other, then that's all that matters to me."

  I didn't reply. My breath was stuck in my throat. She loved me?

  "If you're still in love with her, I'm fine with that. I don't love people with the expectations that they'll love me too. The same way, I don't expect that from either of you," she said and cut the call.

  I ran my fingers through my hair.

  "I- I need to go," Ashley stuttered. "I can't- I can't do this." She tripped on her foot as she tried hastened out of the door.

  "Why do you wanna bawl like a baby now?" I snapped, rubbing my eyes to erase the weariness.

  "She was crying, idiot. Couldn't you hear it?" she hissed.

  I stilled. "She didn't sound like-"

  "Because she's brilliant at faking. But she can't fake it from me. I've grown up with her. I've seen her build these walls up. I know what they look like. She was crying. Oh god." She was trembling by the end.

  "Wow, so you do care. Refreshing to know that," I said coldly.

  "I know
she thinks I hate her but I don't. She's my sister. I'll always love her. And I was about to take this away from her," she said in a cracked voice.

  "Why did you even come here?" I asked, banging my fist on the table.

  "Because I wanted to know!" she screamed and then slapped a hand over her mouth.

  "Know what?" I growled.

  "Don't tell me you don't wanna know, Nate. Are you not even a little curious whether I'm still in love with you or not?" she asked with the confident offense only a journalist could muster.

  "I'm not. I don't give a flying fuck about who you love. The moment you boarded the plane for Venice, you made your choice. You chose your career over me. And that's good enough for me," I said impassively.

  She stalked up to the desk and leaned over it until her face was inches from mine. "Oh? You don't care? Tell me that again, Nate. What if I tell you I'm still in love with you and I'm ready to leave all of that and settle in New York for you? What would you say then?" There was a hysterical look in her wild eyes. She was breathing hard as she looked at me with a demanding expression.

  I leaned even closer with the same impassiveness stamped over my face. "I would tell you to fuck off," I whispered each word loud and clear with as much menace as I could manage.

  She pulled back and stood up straight like my proximity burnt her. "Thank you. That's all I needed to know," she said in a robotic voice and walked out with small mechanical steps, closing the door shut with a soft thud behind her.

  I quickly called Karen again, and this time I did hear the fragility in her voice and the little sniffs she hid so well. "Karen? Come back to me, baby doll. Right now," I said, letting her hear the need in my voice.

  "Okay," she whispered.

  Every moment that passed by in her wait was agony. I kept checking my watch. One minute. Two minutes. Three minutes. Five minutes. Ten minutes. Sixteen minutes. Twenty one minutes.

  "You called me, sir?" said Karen from the doorway with her head cocked to one side as she smiled through the tears.

  I was in front of her quicker than you could say 'run'. I grabbed her by the waist and pulled her inside so I could close the door. I put the other hand around her shoulders and held her tightly.

  "You chose me," she said with wonder.

  "There was no choice, baby doll. It was only you since the moment you confessed your 'little crush' in your drunken state," I whispered into her hair.

  She wrapped her fingers around my biceps. "I love you, Nathan."

  I pressed my lips to hers. They were unbelievably soft from the moisture her tears had provided. "I love you too, Karen."

  EPILOGUE.

  KAREN.

  "Are you sure this looks fine?" I twirled around in front of the mirror, looking at my peach gown with growing apprehension. It stuck to my skin and highlighted every curve. It had a split on one leg till right up to the middle of my thighs. A pair of pearl earrings and choker completed my look.

  "You're looking gorgeous," said Nathan. He had told me that it brought my eyes out.

  I saw his reflection in the mirror come up behind me and put an arm around my waist to pull me flush against him. "You always say that no matter what I wear. I don't trust your judgment so much anymore," I said, my face turned up to see him already staring at me.

  "Because you always look ravishing. That's not my fault," he said and kissed my neck softly.

  I bit my lip and turned my face away to hide the blood rising in my cheeks. "What if your family hates me?" I asked fearfully.

  "I don't care. I love you," he replied easily. He swiped my hair to one shoulder and grazed his lips lightly against my neck.

  "Not everybody is as blind as you," I said as my breath hitched. "Nathan, sweetie, do you really want my panties soaked when I have to stand on the altar for your family to inspect?"

  He laughed softly. "I can't wait to rip that dress off you, baby doll."

  I elbowed him in his stomach and turned around to glare at him. "Don't make me hot and bothered when I'm trying to be composed. Damn it."

  He cupped my face in his large hands and pressed a kiss to my forehead. "You're beautiful, my love. Let's go."

  I tapped my foot nervously the whole ride to the mansion Nathan's parents owned. It was in an uppity part of Manhattan. There was a five minutes drive from the huge gateway to the front porch and I was so fidgety that Nathan had to hold my hand to stop me from moving it around aimlessly. “You are going to be brilliant, Karen. I know it," he said with complete confidence in me.

  We had been dating for a year now. His mother always hated my guts and I suspect Nathan knew why but he never told me. But it had been a year and even the media knew how serious we were about each other so it was only fitting that his parents started to accept me. They organized a dinner to finally get to know me like a human and not a whore their son was burning out in a rebellious whim.

  He took my hand as we made our way into the impressive foyer with paintings adorning the walls and a grand staircase that led up to the first floor. We were led by the butler through two more sets of doors and we came to the dining hall. It was even more impressive than what I'd seen so far. There was a table that stretched on so far that the person sitting on the other end would look like a dwarf. Huge candelabras decorated the center of the table and resplendent flowers were set at different intervals.

  I greeted his parents, who were both splendidly dressed and poised in their eliteness. It was tough not to get an inferiority complex while standing in front of people who obviously considered you inferior.

  Nathan pulled out a chair for me and helped me sit. He held my hand throughout the dinner which was cordial enough. I didn't speak much, unless spoken to. I wanted his parents to not dislike me more than I wanted them to like me.

  When dinner was over, we all ventured into the living room. Nathan was engrossed in a very intense conversation with his father so I was left to sit quiet awkwardly with his mother.

  "My boy seems to have taken a fancy for you," she said, sounding mildly disapproving.

  "So it seems," I replied, not knowing what to say to that.

  "Mother, are you torturing my woman again?" Nathan interrupted good-naturedly.

  "Why would you assume that?" she asked, taking a sip from the teacup she had been holding.

  "Never mind. Can I show her around, if that's okay?" This he directed at his father.

  His father smiled politely at me and gave his consent. Nathan claimed my hand and we took leave. I released a sigh of relief as we exited to the backyard. It was lit up from the lanterns hanging at different places and the swimming pool in one far corner.

  "What was she saying to you?" he asked, casually strolling with one hand in his pocket and the other in mine.

  "It's not what she said. It's the way she said it but maybe I'm just being paranoid," I said uneasily.

  He left my hand and put that arm around my shoulders. "Father likes you."

  "Really? Or are you saying that to make me feel better?" I asked.

  Moonlight glinted off his angular jaw and made an aura around his face that gave him a magical glow. "Really. He does like you."

  "And your mother?" I asked.

  "Well," he smiled, "I don't think she particularly likes her own husband either. So don't take her dislike to the heart."

  I laid my head against his chest. "Still. It makes me feel like I don't deserve you."

  We had, by then, took a whole circle of the house and reached the patio on the backside. Two fountains on either side decorated the steps leading up to it. Stone slabs in a maze like pattern covered the floor. Pots of flowers encircled the perimeter and two sets of tables and chairs were on either sides of where we were standing.

  He turned me completely towards him and lifted my chin up with his thumb and index finger. "Don't ever say that again. You're more than everything I deserve." His lips stretched into a magnificent smile at seeing me blush. "You know why I got you here?"

  "To meet you
r parents? To see me make a fool of myself?" I guessed not so wild guesses.

  He laughed softly, his voice tinkling over the sound of water swishing in the fountains. "No. See, I needed to ask you something. And, over here, I reckoned you would be pressured to say yes."

  I cocked my head to one side. "Ask me what?"

  He pressed a kiss to my forehead, a mysterious smile still playing on his handsome face. "Remember, you say no and I'll throw you to the wolves inside."

  I grabbed his collar with a fearful expression. "Yes. Hell yes already."

  "Fine, then I don't need to ask. Let's just go," he said, nudging me towards the door.

  "What is it?" I whined.

  Instead of replying, he took a step back and took out a small box from the inner pocket of his coat. It was deep burgundy in color with a velvety surface and I knew what it contained before he opened it. He got down on one knee and flipped it open. "Karen José Miles, my love, please let me have the honor of calling you my wife. Will you marry me?"

  I covered my mouth that was gaping wide open with both my hands. I think at one point I even uttered a muffled squeal.

  "I'm still waiting for the answer," he said. "Yes or no?" In a hushed voice, he said, "You know what happens if you say no."

  "No. I mean. Yes. Yes, yes, yes." I was bouncing on my toes.

  He took the hand that I had extended and put the ring on my fourth finger.

  "Really? Really really?" I jumped up and threw my arms around him, holding him so tightly that I'm glad his ribs remained intact.

  "Really really really," he replied and squeezed me tighter.

  "I love you so much," I whispered.

  He pulled back slightly so he could plant his lips over mine in a deep kiss. He swept me off my feet and carried me inside, never breaking the kiss. "Your parents..." I muttered somewhere in between.

  "Father, she said yes," he said enthusiastically when we reached inside.

  I didn't even have the guts to look up and see what expressions both of them had on their faces at seeing me cradled in his arms. They already didn’t like me much, despite what Nathan had said. I didn’t want to give them more reasons to think I was a gold-digging whore. I hid my face in the curve of his neck to hide my flushed skin.