Page 214 of Powerhouse: Boxed Set
I had VPs calling my phone on constant loop. I barked out instructions, barely more than one-liner answers to complex situations, but I didn’t care.
I didn’t have time for any of them, not a fucking peep of it.
Who the hell was I?
Trenton was trying to chase me down for approval of another cross-border arms deal, but I didn’t have time for him either. I couldn’t give a shit who was delivering what and when. It was when he called me late that morning for a final okay that I found myself asking a whole load more from him in return. Much more than should ever have been on my radar.
“I want to know what’s happening between Elaine Constantine and the Power brothers,” I told him. “I want to know what the fuck she owes them and what the fuck they are planning to do about it.”
Trenton paused. “Sorry, what?”
“You heard me.”
I could hear the confusion in his voice. “Yeah, but. I just…if I track them down, they’re gonna know it’s coming from you.”
He was right. I knew he was right. Every scrap of common sense in my head was screaming out about my insanity, but still, I didn’t back down. “I want everything. I want to know everything,” I insisted, and he sighed.
I knew he thought I was as crazy as I did, but he knew better than to challenge me again.Sure thing, bosswas the answer he gave me, and with that he was gone.
Friday morning was a bore and a slow burn. Elaine didn’t move until the sun was up high in the sky, walking on foot through New York City with her cousin Harriet.
I was a true damn stalker as I ditched my chauffeur in a city parking lot and followed her through the streets. I kept my distance, far enough behind that she didn’t stand any chance of catching my face, but again, her instincts were still pricking strong.
So many times she cast a glance behind her, wide eyes searching for her hunter.
So many times I dipped away out of her view.
It was when she was getting a dress fitting at one of the premier boutiques in the city that I finally opted to poke her fear some more. It wasn’t right. None of this was right, but I didn’t care. It turned me on. I thought it turned her on, too. That was the game we played.
I stepped up to the window, just close enough that she’d catch a glimpse of me. Then I waited. Waited until she stopped in the middle of a twirl, an instant halt which had the stylists as surprised as she was. My pretty blonde minx blinked and took a step forward, her shock so palpable that I could taste it in the air.
She rushed for the door toward me, but that didn’t matter. I was gone in a flash, just out of view as she dashed out onto the sidewalk.
I loved the self-fucking-doubt on her face as she stepped back inside. So much self-fucking-doubt she must have thought she was losing her mind.
I did it again when she was having a coffee with Harriet in one of the bars on East Street. I hovered on the other side of the street, my eyes firmly fixed on hers until she turned her head and caught a glimpse. This time she visibly flinched, getting up from her seat to rush in my direction, but again, I was gone.
Over and over I played my game through the streets. Chasing her. Teasing her. Watching the paranoia rise higher and higher. Cat and mouse had always been my favorite game, ever since I was a child. It gave me thrills all the way through my veins.
Here pussy, pussy.
So many times I gave her a glimpse. So many times she was rushing to find me.
Every single time she was a failure.
The evening drew in with both girls swinging a collection of designer bags along with them, Elaine laughing a little too brittle. She headed back to her apartment as soon as they were finished, hugging her farewell to Harriet before dashing inside.
I was still hovering outside her place when Elliot began trying to get hold of me. He called three times straight before my reality came crashing back in like a hammerblow. Fuck. Of course he was calling me. I was supposed to be out with him for his social meal.
I pressed to receive the damn call.
“Hey, finally,” he said with a groan. “You coming? We’re waiting on you before we order our main courses.”
I could hear the thrum of the restaurant in the background, and should’ve been heading right on over there, but I wasn’t. One look at the light on in the top windows of Elaine Constantine’s apartment building was enough to keep me in my seat.
“I’m not coming,” I said. “Enjoy your night.”
“Not coming? For real? What the hell?”
