CRUEL KING (Cruel #7)

1 WHITLEY I negotiated lavender hair into my contract. Well, not just lavender. All the colors of the rainbow. I’d gotten used to wearing my hair however I wanted in California. I intended to continue to do so now that I was coming back to New York City. If I was honest, I might have been looking for a way to get out of the contract. Something that would make my boss roll his eyes and tell me I’d gone too far. This hadn’t been the reason. Even if he hated agreeing to it. I was one of the best practicing plastic surgeons in the country. He was paying me a small fortune to move back to the city after I made an even bigger name for myself in LA. But I’d left New York for a damn good reason. And I had to face that reason tonight. I was swabbing more mascara onto my already-long lashes when my phone rang on the bathroom counter. I pressed the video button, and my best friend, Anna English, appeared on the screen. “Where the hell are you?” English asked. She looked frantic, and my friend never looked frantic. She was a celebrity publicist and could handle drugged-out rockstars like it was her job, which admittedly it was. It was another thing to have to manage her future mother-in-law. “Leaving now.” “Oh my god, are you still at the hotel?” I grabbed my overflowing Chanel bag and headed toward the exit. “I’m like three blocks away from The Plaza.” “You’re still living on California time,” English grumbled. “In New York, three blocks will make you late.” “You’re actually from California, girlfriend.” I snatched up a fuzzy white fur coat and exited my suite to the elevator. “Take a Xanax or something. I can handle monster-in-law when I get there.” “Wait, what the f**k is that in your hand?” “A coat?” I deadpanned. English huffed, but I saw a smile creep out. “I told you to wear something sensible.” “Oh, I heard you. Loud and clear.” “You’re going to show up in something outrageous, aren’t you?” “No one will be worried about you when I walk in looking like a train wreck, now will they?” English laughed this time. It was a beautiful sound. “f**k, I missed you. You’re going to be the best worst maid of honor there ever was.” “At your service,” I said, stepping onto the elevator. I blew her a kiss. “See you in ten.” “Fine. Hurry. I love you.” I hung up and dropped the phone into my bag. Then, I slid the over-the-top fur coat on top of the slinky silver dress that I’d worn clubbing with my ex-girlfriend back in LA. She’d said it was the sluttiest thing in my closet, but I really thought that was underselling it. I’d paired it with strappy silver high heels that one of my clients had gifted to me as a thank-you for a nose job well done. As I exited the elevator, I slipped on a pair of shiny aviators and sauntered through the overly bright lobby of Percy Tower. A group of businessmen was laughing outside of the restaurant off to my left. Every single one of them turned to gape at me. A smile hit my lips. I still had it. Three years in California had made my pale skin a perfect sun-kissed tan. I’d had a personal trainer since I abjectly refused to work out unless someone forced me, and my body was toned in all the best ways. I liked a little appreciation from the peanut gallery to prove it had all been worth it. Then, my smile slipped as I recognized one of the men. In fact, the very man I’d been hoping to avoid for as long as possible. Gavin King. His look of interest turned to shock when he realized that the girl in the fur coat and lavender hair was me. It had been three years since I’d laid eyes on Gavin King. Memory did not do him justice. His suit was black as night and tailored to his powerful build. He was somewhere in the six-and-a-half-feet range with burnished red-brown hair, styled with gel to stay out of those emerald-green eyes. He held himself like the wealthy Upper East Sider he was. Old oil money, mixed with a Harvard education, made him practically drip with arrogance. But when our eyes met, I saw, underneath the charismatic playboy, he was haunted at the sight of me. I’d cracked the veneer of his mask, and he wasn’t fast enough to get it together. I wanted to scurry away. To pack up my s**t and leave, like I had three years ago when things got too complicated. But I was back. I was back, which meant I was going to have to face Gavin one way or another. I’d just wanted to do it on my terms. Oh well. When life gave you lemons, add a little vodka and soda. I wasn’t ready for this confrontation. Not by a long shot. If he hadn’t seen me, I would have found a way to avoid this, but he had seen me. We had an audience, and it wasn’t like we could get into it in front of all of his friends. I didn’t want to get into it at all. Three years hadn’t been long enough for me to be ready for this conversation. Maybe I’d never be ready to talk about it. And certainly not in this moment. Which meant that I needed to let the outrageous, wild Whitley Bowen that he was all too familiar with off her leash. My hips swayed seductively as I made for the group of businessmen. My eyes were only for Gavin King. One of his friends nudged him and laughed. Gavin didn’t look back at him as I approached. He couldn’t look away from me, as if I’d put a spell on him in my too-short skirt and too-high heels and too-purple hair. I ripped my sunglasses off when I reached him, standing way too close for total strangers. Which his colleagues clearly thought we were—and we were very much not. “Hey, you,” I said with a grin. “Hey,” he said on a breath. I took his tie in my hand and threaded it between my fingers. His eyes were impossibly green this close. They stared at me with three years of distrust and confusion. I needed to end this or my knees were going to go weak, and we just couldn’t have that. “You know this isn’t your color,” I said, flipping the blue tie over his shoulder. A knowing smirk crossed his sullen little mouth. “That so?” “Green,” I said with a wink. “To match your eyes.” “I’ll take that into consideration.” One of his friends elbowed him. “You going to introduce us to your friend, King?” Gavin and I snapped back to reality at the same moment. And reality was not a plane that I enjoyed existing on. Gavin looked flummoxed for a whole second as if he had no earthly idea how to introduce us. “Love to, gentlemen,” I said, stepping back with a flourish. “But I have business to attend to. You understand.” Gavin’s mouth turned into an O of confusion. I could see every single thing he wanted to ask on those perfect, pouty lips. The what was I doing here and what business could occupy my time and how had he not known that I was in New York. A million things that I didn’t want to discuss and couldn’t bring down my mask enough to acknowledge. So, I didn’t let him get the questions out. I wagged my fingers in farewell and shot him a wink. “See you later, King.” I swallowed back my apprehension and sauntered away from the group. A whistle followed my exit. I kept the smirk on my lips the whole way, tossing the sunglasses back into position before exiting Percy Tower onto the Manhattan streets. It wasn’t until I cleared the front doors that my shoulders slumped and a frown replaced the ridiculous smirk. My hand dropped to the stone exterior of the building, and I took a steadying breath. Gavin King knew I was back in New York City. I’d survived that interaction. Barely. It’d get easier the next time and the time after that. Like exposure therapy. The more I saw his beautiful face and that muscular physique and the skilled fingers, the more I’d replace the memory of him using all of that for my pleasure. The more I’d replace the look of betrayal on his face when I’d gotten back together with his best friend. The more I’d replace the horror he must have felt when I’d left New York without so much as a good-bye. I’d agreed to come back. I knew what that meant. I just hadn’t wanted to face the fact that I still had feelings for him on my first day.