A Wicked Game Page 8

  He sighed. “Hi, Tori. It’s Jack. Listen, I don’t have an acceptable excuse for not calling you earlier. All I can say is I’m sorry I didn’t.” He paused. “I’m trying to wrap up things here so I can get back to LA in two weeks. Please call me when you have a moment.” His thumb lingered on the end call button of his phone.

  Disconnecting the call was the hardest thing he’d done in a long time.

  * * * *

  He’d been away in Tokyo for two long damned months. Jack couldn’t wait to get home. He’d called Tori every day for the past two weeks and left her as many voicemails as he’d sent her emails. He still hadn’t heard back from her. What did he expect? Her silence could only mean one thing: she was pissed at him. He’d make it up to her any way he could. How he’d do it, he didn’t have a clue. Jack just knew he’d do everything in his power to get her to listen to what he had to say. He slid his finger on his phone and scrolled down until he found her name. He dialed her number and listened to the call go through.

  “This is Tori Michaels. I’m unavailable right now. Please leave a message. I’ll call you back at my earliest convenience.”

  Oh, come on. “Tori, it’s me. Jack.” He felt an idiot for feeling the need to say his name like she didn’t know it was him calling. “I’ll be back in LA next week and would love to see you. Give me a call if you get a chance. Hope you’re doing well.” He remained silent for a moment, not wanting to disconnect his only link to her at the time.

  Jack rubbed the back of his neck, a hunch settling in his stomach. He looked at his contacts list again and texted her.

  Hi, Tori. Please call me or text me when you have a moment, no matter the time. Thanks. He’d just put his phone on his desk when it vibrated.

  Jack, it’s great to hear you’re going back to LA. Hope your business dealings worked out. Talk to you some other time.

  What? He reread her message a few times before he replied. Where are you? Aren’t you in LA? He stared at his phone, waiting for an immediate response, but nothing came through. His gut feeling told him something wasn’t right, so he texted her again. Where are you?

  Still no response came through. He placed his phone on his desk when it buzzed with an incoming message.

  I’m where I’m supposed to be.

  He blinked at her response. Where are you?

  Not that is any of your business. I’m in NYC for fashion week. What do you want, Jack? Don’t you have work to do? I do. Bye.

  How the hell was he supposed to know about fashion week? And why did she have to go anyway? Weren’t there others at her magazine whose job was to cover those events? To top it all, she’d given him the cut. He wouldn’t let her get rid of him that easy.

  When will you be back in LA?

  It’ll be a while.

  Could she stop with the short answers and just tell him? How long is a while? Jack hit the send button on his phone.

  A while.

  If her goal had been to provoke him, she’d succeeded. He took a deep breath before texting her again. How long.

  Hmm, let’s see. I’m heading to London next, Milan later, Paris last. So, it’ll be a while.

  Could she cut him some slack? Dammit. He’d prefer a slap, or a punch, but not this. He only had himself to blame. He’d caused this. If he’d kept his promise and called her, this wouldn’t be happening. Can you give me a date?

  Tell you what, why don’t you Google Fashion Week? You’ll be surprised at all the details you’ll find. Have a good one, Jack.

  Have a good one? Like hell he would. He shut down his laptop and collected his belongings. He’d pretty much wrapped up his business here. Whatever he had left to do, he could manage from his office in LA. He’d been an idiot for being afraid of rejection. Now his fear wasn’t rejection—he feared Tori had moved on.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Three weeks later

  Jack was glad to be back in LA but not happy because Tori wasn’t around. He hadn’t contacted her since their last text exchange. He’d give her time to deal with her job responsibilities for now. Even though he didn’t look forward to waiting, he’d find a way to keep himself busy for the next few weeks until she returned, when he planned to have a conversation with her. Picking up where they’d left off would be hard, but walking away wasn’t an option he’d consider.

  When the light changed from red to green, he made a right turn. He cursed under his breath, realizing he’d driven into the wrong street, which just happened to be where Tori worked. If this wasn’t a sign he missed her and needed her back, he didn’t know what was.

  Jack glanced at the time on his car’s dashboard, noticing it was seven o’clock at night. He could’ve stayed at the office to get more work done, but his mind needed a break. He couldn’t concentrate, knowing Tori was thousands of miles away from him.

  He slowed down as he approached her building. He narrowed his eyes at the blonde woman dressed in a royal-blue strapless dress walking out of the building. A cold wave rushed through his body when he caught sight of the man next to her, his hand on her back, leading her to the waiting Jaguar.

  Jack shook his head at the honking of the passing cars, getting him out of his shock. “I’ll be damned,” he murmured, pulling over to the side, stopping a few feet away from the car waiting for her. Several thoughts raced through his mind as he got out and walked to the sidewalk. “Tori,” he called.

  She glanced his way, halting midstep and holding his gaze for a moment before turning back to her companion and allowing him to help her in the car. The man stared at him for a second too long, nodded, and followed Tori inside.

  Jack frowned. His throat went suddenly dry and his heart took a nosedive. What the fuck just happened? He watched the car merge into traffic and disappear into the distance. The icy look Tori gave him combined with the shock of seeing her with another man held him in place. He looked down the street, then up again, raking his hands through his hair.

  He got back to his car and grabbed his cell phone. Without a second thought, he called her, but as he expected, his call went straight to voicemail. So he sent her a text: You lied. Jack placed the phone in his cup holder and drove away, willing off his mind the images of her with another man.

  A few minutes later, he parked his car in his garage and grabbed his phone. He was taking the elevator up to his place when his phone vibrated in his hand. A new message from Tori flashed on the screen.

  Game Over.

  He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He’d fucked up, he’d give her that. He wouldn’t call it over yet. They were far from over.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The dinner party lasted longer than she’d expected. How she’d made it through the entire evening, Tori didn’t know. Her boss asked her to accompany him to a working dinner party with a new partner, and, given her position at the magazine, she couldn’t very well say no. The new partner was so important to her employer that she’d had to give up going to London.

  If she’d gone on her trip as planned, she wouldn’t have seen Jack. What did he expect? What did he want? He left her. He broke all contact between them. He hadn’t even called her, which she’d known he wouldn’t. Regardless, she’d expected him to say something, to tell her they’d reached the end of their affair.

  He hadn’t. Jack took the easy way out and left.

  It’d been almost three months, and no matter what she’d tried to do, she hadn’t gotten over Jack yet. It’d take her a while before she could see someone else. Tonight, it’d hurt to see him standing there. It took all her willpower to stay put and get into the waiting car. Making a fool of herself, for a guy who had ditched her, in front of her boss hadn’t been part of her evening agenda. She knew better.

  Her boss stayed behind and his chauffeur drove her home. Tori was exhausted both physically and mentally. She craved the comfort of her bed. Catching any sleep tonight would be next to impossible. She’d pop a couple of sleeping pills if she had to, but she wouldn’t lose slee
p over a guy—a guy who didn’t deserve her—and she refused to wake up with horrendous bags under her eyes. The beauty police department at the office would kill her if she did.

  The chauffeur stopped in front of her building complex. She thanked him and stepped out of the car. Not paying attention to her surroundings, she walked to the entrance’s steps.

  “Tori.”

  She paused midstep and turned to face the man she wished she could forget. Jack stood, leaning on his bike, arms and legs crossed. Tori stared at him, taking in the way his leather jacket fit him just perfectly and how his jeans showcased his strong legs. He looked like the badass beautiful nerd he wasn’t supposed to be.

  “What are you doing here, Jack?” she asked.

  He sauntered toward her. “We need to talk.”

  “No, we don’t. As far as I’m concerned, we have nothing to discuss.” She walked to the steps.

  “Who was that man?”

  Tori shook her head in disbelief and twisted back around to look at him. “It’s none of your business.”

  “Are you seeing him?” he asked.

  There was an edge to his voice she hadn’t heard before. Her mouth opened and closed a couple of times. “What I do or don’t do is no concern of yours.”

  “Are you fucking him?”

  She gasped. “Have a good life, Jack.” She turned back to the steps to add more distance between them.

  “You lied,” he said.

  She spun around and stared him down, lifting an eyebrow. “I lied?” Tori closed the space between them. “I wasn’t the one who promised to call. You did.”

  His jaw tightened. Jack reached for her, but she stepped back, avoiding his touch. “I can explain,” he said.

  “I’m not asking for an explanation. I don’t need one. You decided to move on. So have I. What are you doing here now, Jack?” Her chest tightened as she tried to breath. Why was he playing with her mind, with her heart? It’d been hard enough to accept he didn’t want to talk to her when he didn’t return any of her calls. He shouldn’t be here now. She’d moved on—or tried to.

  “I want to explain,” he said, his intent gaze bore into hers.

  “It’s too late for that,” she said, taking a step back, ready to turn.

  Jack grabbed her arm and pulled her to him, crashing her body to his. “Tori, I’m sorry,” he whispered, his mouth a breath away from hers.

  The heat emanating from his body surrounded her from head to toe. She ached for his touch. She’d missed him so much it hurt, and if she let desire lead her, she’d give in and listen to whatever he’d say. She had to be strong. Her weakness for him would drive her to accept him back in her life. What if he made promises and later left without another word—again? She’d be completely crushed.

  Tori stared at his lips, then dragged her gaze to his eyes. “I’m sorrier,” she said, her voice cracking. She untangled herself from him and headed inside her apartment building without another glance at him. Emptiness filled her chest. Walking away from Jack took the little bit of will power left in her. If he came running after her, she wouldn’t be able to say no a second time. Eventually she’d find the strength to move on without Jack in her life. For starters, she hadn’t made it to London, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t make it to Milan or Paris. Ever since she’d started with the magazine, she hadn’t missed the annual fashion shows. This wouldn’t be the first time she did. It’d keep her mind busy day in and day out so she wouldn’t even have a spare second to think about Jack.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Jack sat at the bar where he’d karaoked with Tori a few months ago. His cold beer sat in front of him. It was Wednesday night and the place wasn’t packed, which worked perfect for him because he wasn’t in the mood for loud crowds. Going home didn’t appeal to him, not when his own loneliness waited for him.

  Everything changed for him the moment he’d set eyes on Tori again. He’d been too afraid to admit he was in love. Truth be told, he’d been most afraid of rejection.

  He took a drink of his beer. Perhaps, if he hadn’t been a coward and run away instead of facing his reality at the time, her rejection wouldn’t hurt as much. Shit. He wasn’t even sure she would’ve rejected him anymore. Not after seeing the pain in her eyes the last time he saw her—almost two weeks ago. He’d called, emailed her, and texted her every day. No matter how hard and long he stared at his phone, willing it to buzz with a call or an incoming message, Tori wasn’t coming back.

  Life without her in the picture was a bitch. Fuck, he couldn’t move on. He was stuck on Tori and she was nowhere to be found. Working all hours of the day every day did nothing to keep his mind busy; his thoughts always managed to wander to her. He hadn’t spent the night at his condo in LA since the last time he saw her. Memories of her pole dancing were still vivid in his mind. A shiver shot straight to his cock as he recalled the way he’d made love to her. All he had left were memories of something that would never be. How the fuck could he move on? He’d created his own misery.

  “If you buy me a drink, I may have just the ticket to get you out of your horrible funk.”

  Jack turned to face the woman taking the bar stool next to him. “Vivienne.” He stared at her. “Is this a coincidence or are you stalking me?”

  Vivienne let out a soft laugh and gestured to the bartender. “Me? Stalking you?” She looked at him. “Trust me, I’ve better things to do than stalk you, Jack. I’ll admit it’s not a coincidence I’m here either.” She ordered her drink.

  “You’re stalking me,” he said, grabbing his beer bottle. “How did you find me?”

  “Let’s say I’m resourceful.” She shrugged.

  “Did Brandy tell you I could be here?” He cocked his brow.

  Vivienne smiled. “I don’t know who Brandy is.”

  Jack took a long pull of his beer, making a mental note to have a little chat with his assistant. “What do you want?”

  The bartender placed her drink on the bar, and she gestured for him to hand the check to Jack. “Do you care for Tori?” she asked.

  “I don’t want to have this conversation with you.”

  “Fine. It’s your loss, not mine.” Vivienne drank from her wine glass. “I guess I’ll be going to Milan after all. You know, those fashion shows are so exclusive, only VIPs and media get in. Whatever was I thinking, almost gifting my pass to you?”

  Jack did a double take at her, placing his beer on the bar, trying to process what she’d just said.

  She took another long sip from her wine. “Must be all those crazy hours I’ve been working. Thanks for the drink, Jack.” She stood to leave.

  Jack reached for her arm. “How did you get a hold of the media pass?”

  Vivienne studied him, her lips curved into a smile. “I told you I’m very resourceful.” She extracted an envelope from her purse and held it in front of him. “I should punch you for breaking my friend’s heart,” she said, her expression serious.

  He took hold of the envelope, but she tightened her grip. “I’ll make it up to her,” Jack said, snatching the envelope.

  Vivienne held his gaze. “She deserves better than you, so don’t screw it up, because if you do, you’ll be sorry you did.” She spun around and left the bar.

  Jack opened the envelope, fixing his eyes on the media pass concealed in it. Screwing up a second time wasn’t an option. This was his one chance to right his wrong.

  Chapter Twenty

  Seeing first-hand the trends for the following year was one of the perks that came with her day job. The best part of it all was she got paid to do it. Tori stood in one of the large dressing rooms with two of her photographers and two of her magazine journalists, interviewing designers and models they’d set appointment times with.

  No matter how busy she tried to keep, she still got distracted with thoughts of Jack. She’d heard from him all right, but she hadn’t lifted a finger to reply to any of his messages. She couldn’t forget how he’d hurt her, and her pr
ide wouldn’t allow her to welcome him back. Not yet, maybe not ever. Tori wished he’d stop calling her, yet hoped he didn’t. She wouldn’t even try to explain that because she was utterly confused. Jack did that to her. Still, she didn’t regret not giving him a chance to explain why he hadn’t called. He deserved to be taught a lesson because she deserved a better man.

  Tori ran her hands down the length of her dress and looked around the dressing room, wondering when Vivienne would be there. She’d managed to talk her boss into letting her use his VIP media pass, arguing it’d be a waste not to use it if he wasn’t going. Tori stopped in her tracks when Jack walked through the door, escorted by one of the staff.

  She glanced at her own staff and walked in Jack’s direction. “You can’t be here,” she said.

  Jack smiled, flashing his media pass. “This says otherwise.”

  Tori narrowed her eyes at him. “How did you—”

  “I think you know the answer to that.” He looked around them, then fixed his gaze on her last. “Tori, we need to talk.”

  “I’m busy.” She turned to head back to her staff, but he grasped her arm and pulled her to him.

  His lips brushed her ear. “I understand you’re busy. I’m not asking you to leave right now. All I’m asking is for you to give me a chance and meet me later tonight. Please say you will, Tori,” he whispered.

  She fought the urge to close her eyes. A familiar pressure grew in her chest as his warmth seeped through the thin material of her dress, making her legs tremble.

  “Oh my God, oh my God! This isn’t happening. This is not happening. Not happening.” A designer paced the room in hysterics, raking his hands through his hair. Everyone stopped what they were doing and focused their attention on him.

  “What’s the matter?” a woman asked.