C8, PT. 3

She dropped her robe outside of the shower and was distracted by Roth’s scent that hung in the air. She breathed him in and was annoyed by the flare of warmth and comfort it gave her. She didn’t want to want him. Even now, when things were good between them, she wanted to be able to block him out and enjoy their physical connection without tapping into the emotional. She stepped under the spray and imagined the water washing her worries away. She had to adapt and evolve. It was the only way she would survive.

***

She sang along to Christmas music as she did her makeup. She was flying high on festive cheer. She had a productive day wrapping the gifts she picked up on her travels while catching up with Johnny and Penelope. She unpacked her luggage and ignored Roth’s text, telling her that the housekeeper could do that for her. The fact that he was watching her and not even trying to hide it should have pissed her off, but two heartwarming messages from readers restored her good mood and had her skipping around the penthouse instead of calling Roth to give him a piece of her mind. Didn’t he say he had back to back meetings all day? He shouldn’t have time to stalk her.

She checked the time on her phone and cursed. She should give Johan and Mo a heads-up that she was running late. She leaned toward the vanity and carefully applied eyeliner. She shifted to do the other eye and nearly stabbed herself when she saw a large shadow out of the corner of her eye.

“Holy shit, what the hell are you doing here?” she exploded.

Roth raised his brow as he undid his tie. “I live here.”

“I know, but…” She turned her face away as he caught her around the waist and tried to kiss her. “Make some noise next time! You almost gave me a heart attack.”

“I’ll remember that.” He grabbed her face and got the kiss he wanted, and started to undo his shirt.

“I thought you wouldn’t be back for hours.”

“I have another engagement,” he said as he dropped his pants.

“Oh.” Her voice was a little strained. It took all of her self-control not to let her gaze drop. “Did anyone you met with today mention that it’s Thanksgiving?”

“No.”

She sniffed. Everyone was too afraid to tell him that working on a holiday was a crime.

He turned. This time, she couldn’t stop herself from admiring his ass as he strode to the shower. When he eyed her through the glass, she straightened and turned back to the mirror to finish her makeup.

“Did Sarai send you the portfolios of designers who can work on your office?” he called.

Her eye twitched. “Yes.”

“Did you choose?”

“I don’t need an office!”

“You spent twenty minutes looking for that notebook before you realized it was in the bedroom.”

She put her hand on her hip and glared at the fogged glass that obscured him from view. “How the hell do you know that? Weren’t you in meetings all day?”

“I can multitask. You should utilize the staff to help you.”

“I don’t mind doing things myself,” she said as she slapped her mascara in the palm of her hand.

“You need to learn how to delegate.”

“Says the man who works eighteen-hour days,” she scoffed.

“I used to work twenty. You need to know what can be passed along, so you do the things only you can do.”

She made a face in the mirror.

“I saw that.” He snatched a towel and scrubbed his hair before he draped it around his neck. “Use the resources available to you. That’s what they’re there for.”

Before she could think of a reply, he strolled out of the bathroom. She shook her head. He didn’t realize she needed mundane tasks like putting away her clothes and wrapping gifts to keep her grounded. So many aspects of her life were out of her control. If staff put away her clothes, she wouldn’t know where they were. After so much change, she was trying to create a safe place and nest. She considered explaining that to him, but doubted he would understand.

She was putting on a sultry brown lipstick when Roth reentered the bathroom, pants undone, buttoning a fresh shirt. He went to his vanity, which was opposite hers. She rubbed her lips together and watched him in the mirror as he brushed his teeth and ran a comb through his hair and beard before he headed for the door.

“I’m ready when you are,” he said.

She whipped her head around. “Excuse me?”

He paused. “Aren’t you having dinner with your family?”

“Yes.”

He tugged on his cuff. “Then, so am I.”

“I thought you had another engagement.”

“It’s Thanksgiving. That’s a family holiday, isn’t it?”

“But you…” she sputtered and then shook her head. “I don’t think my family expects you. They’d understand if you had to work.”

“I rescheduled my last appointment, so I could attend.”

She opened her mouth to ask how he knew what time dinner was before she realized what a stupid question that was. “You think paparazzi will be waiting in the cold to see if you attend Thanksgiving dinner with my family?”

“No.”

“Then why…?”

He closed the distance between them and planted a hand on the vanity. “We’re married.”

“I know that.”

He cupped her chin and raised her face, so she couldn’t evade his piercing gaze. “You don’t want me to go.”

“I didn’t expect you to. I know how busy you are.”

“I said things were going to be different this time around.”

“But…”

He kissed her before he straightened. “Don’t worry. It’s going to be fine.”

She gaped at his retreating back. The last time he and her family were together, he choked Thea. If her run-in with Lyle in Portugal was an indicator of what to expect, this dinner was going to be tense and uncomfortable. With what she now knew about Ariana’s addiction, Rami’s past, and Colette’s bad business decisions, she wasn’t sure how she was going to interact normally. Her plan was the same as always—she was going to focus on the kids and ignore the adults. She was dying to see how much Polara had grown, and couldn’t wait to see Kye and Bailey’s reactions to their gifts. Adding Roth to the mix threw her plans for a low-key night out the window. Should she text her sisters that he was coming to dinner, or did they assume he would accompany her? Even though she intended to invite him, she assumed the chances of him attending had been slim. Roth didn’t do family shit and had told her not to send birthday or Christmas gifts in the past. She had ignored that, but he made it clear he didn’t care for holidays, milestones, or anniversaries. Why would he bother with Thanksgiving dinner with her family? Then again, he had to keep up appearances. Lyle would expect it after the besotted newlywed act she put on in Lisbon.

She glanced at her reflection and was satisfied with her transformation. She forced herself to smile, so she could add extra blush to the apples of her cheeks, before she headed to the closet to get dressed. Roth was dressed in a suit, but knowing she would be spending the night with her nieces and nephew, she went for comfy, chic, and a little sexy with a fitted long sleeve black dress with a high neck. There was a slit that the dress didn’t need with it already being so short. She put on black tights, so her sisters wouldn’t have a hernia and paired it with knee-high chunky boots and a heather gray coat. The final touch was her mother’s necklace. She and her mother’s initials were hidden in the pattern on the back of the disc pendant on a fine gold chain.

Roth sat in the living room with a laptop balanced on his knee. His eyes swept over her and warmed before he focused on the large packages she held.

He frowned. “What’s all that?”

“Presents.”

“It’s not Christmas.”

She tipped her nose in the air. “It doesn’t have to be Christmas to get a present.”

She bent over to make sure she had everything and didn’t realize he moved until he gripped her hips.

“Do I get a present?”

Considering that she’d just been thinking about his reaction to her past attempts to give him gifts, she was surprised he mentioned it. She turned to face him. “You never liked presents.”

“I didn’t appreciate it at the time.”

Her eyes moved over him, taking in his appearance. He employed personal shoppers to make sure he looked the part of a tycoon. Thinking back to how insistent she’d been to send him some ties she’d come across at Macy’s for his birthday, her cheeks heated. Yes, she could imagine that her presents hadn’t been all that special. What was she supposed to give a man who could acquire a jet with the amenities he wanted within a few hours? She wasn’t a broke college student relying on her husband any longer. She had millions at her disposal, but he had billions. No comparison. Today, she stuffed the clothes she bought him at the Copenhagen market behind some shelves and planned to donate them. He would never wear it, and she wasn’t going to test his newfound willingness to please her by forcing him to put on an act.

“You’ll have to tell me what you want,” she said with a half smile to conceal her embarrassment. “I don’t want to get you something you don’t want.”

His eyes moved pensively over her face.

“Are you sure you want to come to this?” she asked to distract him. “It could be…” She flipped her hand back and forth to express the potential unpleasant environment he could be walking into.

“They have to get used to me,” he said as he brushed her curls over her shoulder. “And so do you.”

So be it.

She stepped back. “We better go.”

**This is a raw draft of Bitter Confessions. Please do not share or distribute.

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