CHAPTER ELEVEN: Zoe

I didn’t really expect the call. Not really. Knowing Chad, I expected him to blow me off and forget about the whole thing entirely. After the shower, I couldn’t help but do some research on him, and my God, was he big. Body by Chad was more than just a successful fitness studio, it was a serious business and a huge brand. It was a surprise that he had even taken the time to show up in New York for the interview at all.

There were a dozen big names associated with Chad. I had never seen so many celebrities endorse a single business like this. He was a star amongst stars, and everyone loved him. At one point, I even wondered why he had bothered to do the interview in the first place. He clearly didn’t need it. His success made mine look like I had won the Spelling Bee at school.

So, I didn’t expect him to call. We had too much history, too many memories. I had, after all, dumped him and moved on, and it was hard to believe that someone who had grown this successful would bother with the woman who had left him behind.

But he did call.

The ringing of my cellphone startled me at first, and I hesitated when I saw his number. I was still trying to wrap my head around what I had read about him, and the intense orgasm in the shower. I tried to compose myself, paranoid that he might actually know about the shower or that I was researching him.

Get a grip. Show some balls. Dinner was his idea, after all.

Then a second thought hit me. What if this was just a ploy to get back at me?

Stop it. Answer the damn call.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Zoe, it’s me,” Chad’s voice was like the whisper of a ghost in my ear, and I felt myself smiling. “Thought you wouldn’t answer.”

“Why wouldn’t I answer?”

“Just thought –” His voice trailed off, then came back a lot more confident. “You know, big shot author and all that, probably had some plans to celebrate today’s show.”

“I promised you dinner,” I replied. Yeah, because I’ve always been great with the promises.

Chad laughed on the other end. “Yes, you did,” he said. “Okay, so eight? Sound good?”

“Nine,” I said.

Chad laughed. “Okay, nine it is.”

My hands shook as I hung up and put the phone down on the table. I tried to control the beating in my chest. What the hell was I doing? Eight was fine. Why did I insist on nine? I sighed and threw my head back, running my fingers through my hair and shaking the strands about. I got up and walked over to the couch, noting the time on the wall. I had at least three hours to kill.

Damn it, Zoe, eight was fine.

But a part of me knew that it wasn’t.

Eight was definitely not fine.

I knew Chad, and a lot of men like him. The controlling type. The type that had to have their way. And for some stupid reason I was constantly drawn to them. Chad, Mark, and a bunch of others who never lasted more than a few weeks. They all wanted the same thing; control. And I was willing to give it to them.

Making sure Chad picked me up at nine instead of eight was like a silent shot at not letting him take control. It felt weird, much different than what I was used to, and I felt a small thrill race through me.

You’ve grown petty in your old age, haven’t you, Zoe?

Maybe. But this wasn’t some random first date. This was Chad Walters, owner of Body by Chad, and I needed to be on top of my game. The memory of my orgasm was still fresh I my mind, and if I didn’t get myself together, I’d have the real Chad in my shower by the end of dinner, doing whatever he wanted to me. And letting him do it willingly.

Would that be so bad?

The tingling between my legs surprised me, and I quickly pushed the thought away.

Yes, it would be bad.

Very bad.

But in a very good way…

* * *

Chad was waiting with a cab out front of my building at nine. When I came out the door he was leaning against the cab, looking like a Calvin Kline model at a photo shoot.

Dressed to kill in tight jeans, a black polo that showcased the chiseled body beneath, and a black blazer. He looked incredible. It was easy to see why he had such an internet reputation as a bad boy. Chad was always good looking, but now… wow…

“You look ravishing,” Chad said, taking me in with his eyes as he held open the taxi’s rear door. He took my hand to help me inside. The hem rode a bit over my knees and accentuated my long legs. I could see how his eyes immediately dropped to them before he gave me a hug and kissed me on the cheek. “I feel like I’m underdressed.”

“You look great,” I said with a smile. “Unless we’re going to get pizza, then we’re both kinda screwed.”

“Definitely not pizza.” He smiled and held out his hand. “Come, my lady, your chariot awaits.”

* * *

We rode in silence, both of us staring straight ahead. I didn’t want to be the first to break the silence, but it was slowly getting awkward. I had to say something, anything, and I turned to look at him.

The dim lights coming in from the streets dropped shadows across his face, making him look like a Greek God. I felt myself choke on my words, and quickly turned when his eyes shifted to me.

I looked out the window and tried to ignore the smug smile that appeared on his face.

Smooth, Zoe, real smooth.

* * *

Vittorio’s was packed, but the maître d’ showed us to a romantic table looking out at the indoor garden. The dim lighting and soft Italian music playing in the background only added to the mood. Conversation filled the small restaurant and bar, a mix of whispers and gentle laughter that made me feel like I had just walked into a movie.

I had been here before, a dinner gathering when Pleasing Him had first been released, but had never found the time to come again. I was surprised that Chad had chosen the restaurant. It wasn’t a place I had expected him to take me to.

We sat on opposite sides of the table, in awkward silence again, while we scanned the menus and gave the waiter our orders. Chicken Masala for me, spaghetti with meatballs for Chad. The waiter appeared a few minutes later with a bottle of 1951 Penfolds Grange Hermitage. I raised my eyebrows at Chad.

“I know my wine,” he smiled.

“You’ve gotten very continental over the years,” I said with a smile.

“Well, actually, I Googled it,” he said with a grin. He held up his glass and tapped it lightly to mine. “To old times.”

“To old times,” I said. I sipped the wine and scanned the crowd around us. “This place is beautiful.”

“It is, isn’t it,” Chad said, following my gaze. “To be honest, I’m clueless when it comes to New York. Martin made the reservations.”

“Martin?”

“My manager, Martin Friese,” Chad replied. “More of friend, actually. Wouldn’t be here without him.”

I frowned at Chad’s show of humility, which I had never seen from him before. It was unlike Chad to give credit to someone else for his successes. It made me wonder what else had changed about him.

“Must be a great a guy,” I said, wanting to hear more, fishing for the catch.

“He is,” Chad said with a sincere smile. “He set up the whole entry into New York. I mean, sure, I know there’s a lot in it for him, but sometimes I get the feeling he’s more of a partner than a manager.”

“Worried you might have to share the spoils?”

Chad laughed, and his eyes pierced mine. I had a feeling he knew I was fishing, and instantly turned my eyes away, concentrating on the wine that tasted like heaven.

“So, Zoe Maxwell, tell me,” Chad said with a sigh. “What does the world of a bestselling author look like? Mansions? Cars? A place in the Hamptons?”

“I wish,” I snorted, a little too quickly. “People have the wrong idea about authors, bestsellers or not. We don’t all live like James Patterson or Stephen King. In fact, less than one-percent of authors actually make a living off their work.”

“You seem to be doing fine,” Chad said, smiling over his glass. That damn smile... It was melting me despite my best efforts to resist. The heat was building in my belly. I was getting moist. I could smell the faint scent of my own juices.

“I’m doing okay,” I said, trying not to blush.

He shrugged. “You are not living in a hovel, by any means, at least judging from the outside of the building.”

I smiled. Was he hinting that he wanted to see the inside of my apartment?

“Well, I don’t live like you do, I’m sure,” I smiled back, slowly getting comfortable. “I’m sure your place in L.A. would make my little apartment look like a broom closet.”

He rolled his eyes at me. “Your apartment must be pretty impressive. What floor are you on? Which way does the apartment face?”

“Why do you ask?” I was being demure. He seemed enamored by it. Maybe he had grown up after all. The juices flowed.

“Because of the view,” he said nonchalantly. “Bet you have one hell of a view from…”

“The twelfth floor,” I said, giggling. “I have a lovely view of the building next door.”

“Remember your old apartment back in the day?” he asked, shaking his head at the memory. “What a shit hole that was.”

“Yes, I live in a much nicer shit hole now,” I said with a grin.

Chad laughed, and I found myself laughing along with him. I swirled the wine in my glass, and looked towards the bar where a couple was cozying up over drinks. I felt good, strangely so, and started to fight back the paranoia that something was going to go terribly wrong with the night. I looked back at Chad to find him staring right at me.

I felt my cheeks heating up. In fact, all of me was heating up. The fire had started down below and was rising up, over my belly, across my breasts, up my neck… The way he was looking at me took me back to a time when I would have done anything to keep those eyes locked on me. It was funny how something as simple as a look could have that effect.

“I’ve missed you, Zoe,” Chad said.

I squinted at him and cocked my head to a side. “Have you?”

Chad raised his eyebrows and chuckled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Big business man such as yourself, surrounded by so many celebrities?” I teased. “I wouldn’t have thought that I had even crossed your mind after so many years.”

It was a bold thing to say, and maybe a bit rude, but what the hell. For some reason, I felt bold. I didn’t know if it was the wine, or me trying to prove something to Chad. Or to myself. It was like a silent statement that, like him, I had changed. I wasn’t the same mild-mannered girl he once knew. At least not tonight. I could let the insecurities plague me later.

“Celebrities are highly overrated,” Chad said, rolling his eyes. “They wouldn’t vouch for me unless they got something in return.”

“A few private sessions with Chad Walters?” I teased.

“More like a few free sessions with Chad Walters,” he said with a sigh that told me he wasn’t kidding. “It is a fucking dog eat dog world in L.A. Only the big dogs win. And most businesses, especially ones like mine, are built on what I can do for them first, then maybe they’ll do something for me later. I had to do a lot of favors. And not all of them were returned.”

There was something in the way he said it, an underlying tone, that had me guessing that there was more to the story than he was letting on. But I was fine letting it go for now. I was seeing a new side to Chad. I didn’t want to screw that up. At least not yet.

“Well, I’d be lying if I said I had never thought about you, too,” I said, meeting his eyes. “The guy I once knew.”

His smiled faded into the fog of bad memories between us. He set down his glass and stared into it. “You mean the guy you left behind?”

I hesitated, already feeling the rush of emotions racing through me, and the stammering that was bound to happen once we got into this. How could I have been so stupid? Of course, he was going to confront me about leaving him behind. Dumping him. Running away. I had hurt him, after all. Maybe this was payback. Luring me to this restaurant, getting me all comfortable with expensive wine, making my blood boil with his fucking eyes and luscious lips.

Chad Walters, back in control, lashing out one last time at the one girl who could resist his charms. The one girl who pushed him away.

I took another sip of my wine and met his gaze. “I didn’t leave you behind.”

“You left.”

“After we broke up,” I said. “And don’t pretend that it was all me. It takes two to kill a relationship, you know.”

He didn’t reply right away, just stared at me. I guess my reply had startled him as much as it had startled me.

“I never really got over you, you know,” Chad said quietly.

“Is this what tonight’s about, Chad?” I asked, putting my glass down and dabbing my lips with a napkin. “Laying a guilt trip on me? Paying me back for whatever wrong you feel I’ve done to you by humiliating me publicly?”

“No, not at all,” he said quickly, sincerely. He reached across the table to put his hand on mine, and for a minute my entire body froze. “I’m just really glad we bumped into each other again. Really.”

I had no idea what was going on, or who the man sitting opposite me was. This wasn’t Chad Walters, at least not the one I knew. Sure, the ego was still there. It radiated from him. And that little mischief in his eyes was all but apparent. But something had changed. Something vital to who he was, or who I believed he was. And that threw me off my guard. What little control I had was starting to waver, thanks to heat between my legs and the fog rolling in over my brain.

“I’m not gonna fuck you for old time sake, Chad,” I said, and even before the words were out of my mouth, I felt a shudder of excitement race through my body. Even his eyes went wide, and there was a small part of me, the one not shocked at what I had just said, that was thrilled to see the look of surprise on his face.

His smile faded into a frown. He blinked at me. “What are you saying?”

I opened my mouth, closed it, then sighed.

Oh, what the hell?

I had nothing to lose.

“If this is just payback or some weird plan to fuck me,” I said, leaning in, lowering my voice to a growl. “Then don’t get your hopes up. I’m not going to sleep with you because I feel bad about breaking up with you. I don’t. I never have.”

It was a lie, but he didn’t have to know that.

Chad began to laugh and let go of my hand. “Wow, you really have changed, Zoe,” he said. “Don’t worry. This is just me taking an old friend out for dinner. Catching up. That sort of thing. What’s in the past is in the past. No agenda. You have my word.”

For some reason, I didn’t really believe a word he said, and a voice in my head chastised me for being so blunt. You were just masturbating to the thought of him in the shower. I returned his smile and shook my head. Sure, he was doing things to me that I wish I could have controlled, but it was my choice just how much of it became a reality. I wasn’t going to let another man into my life just to have him walk all over me again. I had that with Chad once, and Mark, and I was sick of it.

Thankfully, the waiter came with the food, giving us a welcome break in the tense conversation. As the food was set out, Chad and I sat back and stared at each other, as if we were trying to read each other’s minds.

“Let’s shift gears and eat,” Chad said, leaning over his plate to inhale the aroma steaming off the spaghetti. He reached for his silverware. “Martin assures me the food’s delicious here.”

I lay my napkin in my lap and picked up my fork and knife. The knife was hovering over a piece of chicken when a couple stepping up to the bar caught my eye. Without meaning to, I said, “Oh, shit…”

Chad looked up with a mouth full of spaghetti and frowned. “What’s wrong? Did they screw up your food?”

“No, it’s just… shit…”

It was too late to look away. Mark had spotted me. He was standing at the bar with a busty brunette on his arm that was not his wife. He whispered something in her ear and she giggled, then he slid her on to a barstool and headed my way.

“Well, look who we have here,” Mark said, hands out, all smiles. “Didn’t expect to run into you out on the town.”

“Hello, Mark,” I said, trying to ignore his amused smirk. I held the knife and squeezed my fingers tightly around the handle. My eyes briefly met Chad’s, and I could see that he noticed how uncomfortable I was. His forehead wrinkled as he glanced up at Mark.

“And who’s your friend, Zoe?” Mark asked, folding his arms over his chest and turning to stare down at Chad.

“Chad Walters,” Chad said curtly.

“Chad Walters of Body by Chad?” Mark asked, scratching his chin thoughtfully. “Yeah, I’ve heard about you. Fitness guy. Out of Los Angeles or Las Vegas or someplace like that. You were on that show before Zoe’s interview this morning.”

“I was,” Chad replied, looking up at Mark like a lion about to pounce. There was a tiny vein pulsating along Chad’s right temple. I’d seen that vein before. The night Chad mopped up a dive bar with a drunk who had made the mistake of hitting on me in front of him.

“Well, good for you,” Mark said, giving Chad a condescending up and down look. I thought about warning Mark that he was inching close to the edge of Chad’s tolerance, then thought better of it. I assumed Chad would not make a scene, even though Mark seemed determined to. He turned to me and sneered. God, what did I ever see in this man?

“So, Zoe, I was trying to call you earlier,” Mark said. “Kept going to voicemail.”

My mind briefly registered the phone call I had ignored before going into the shower. I never checked who it was.

“I was busy,” I said.

“I can see that,” Mark said, glancing at Chad again, his voice filled with innuendo. “Listen, I need to talk to you. The last time you called, I was in a bit of a bad place, and might have said a few things I didn’t mean.”

“Might have?” I asked, suddenly unable to disguise my anger. I shook the knife at him and he playfully held up his hands. “I think you called me a fucking skank, Mark. So yeah, you might have said a few things you shouldn’t have, but I seriously doubt you regret them.”

I could see the anger building in Chad’s face. “He called you a what?”

“Please, Chad, it’s fine,” I said. “I’ve got this.”

Mark chuckled, as if I had said something funny. From the corner of my eye, I could see Chad gently put down his cutlery and wipe his hands and mouth on a napkin.

“Yeah, well, you had that coming, I’m afraid,” Mark said with a sigh. “But hey, I’m a forgiving guy, so, why don’t we go somewhere private and talk –”

“I think you’re done talking,” Chad said, his thick fingers flexing on the table, the vein in his temple throbbing like a snake in a bag. “You need to step away before you get hurt.”

Mark turned to him, his fake lawyer smile plastered across his face. He had been drinking. I could see it in his eyes and smell it on his breath. When Mark drank, his balls grew a couple of sizes. Which, for someone like Chad, just made them a bigger target.

Mark snarled at him. “What did you say?”

“I said, we’re trying to have a nice, quiet dinner, and you’re kinda fucking it up,” Chad replied calmly. He cut his eyes at Mark. The threat was there. I knew what was going to happen and I should have stopped it, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. I wanted to see what Chad would do to Mark.

Mark turned to me with a look of utter disdain and jabbed a thumb toward Chad. “Who is this fucking guy to you?” he asked, scowling. “Really, Zoe, I thought you could do better than some muscled up asshole like this piece of shit.”

I barely had time to blink, Chad moved so quickly. He was out of his seat in a second, and before I knew what was happening, Mark’s face was slamming against the table so hard everything on the table jumped. Out of reflex, I supposed, Mark grabbed at the table cloth as he sunk to the floor, taking the wine and our dinner with him. He ended up in a heap on the floor, covered in wine and spaghetti sauce.

“What the hell, Chad?” I screamed, suddenly furious even though I knew what was going to happen. My mind was racing and everyone in the restaurant was looking at us. And I felt like a total hypocrite. I wanted Chad to put Mark in his place, but I wasn’t expecting… this. Still, I could not deny the tingle in my clit or the dampness in my panties. Fuck. I knew this was a bad idea.

Mark moaned on the floor, rolling onto one side as he clenched his nose. Blood ran through his fingers and dripped onto the restaurant floor.

“You son of a bitch!” he yelled, his voice muffled. “I’m going to sue your ass!”

It was so like Mark.

Not man enough to fight, but lawyer enough to sue.

Chad picked up the only glass of wine that had not been knocked from the table and poured it over Mark’s face to drown out his words.

“Chad!” I yelled, getting to my feet and stepping back. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Exactly what you wanted me to do,” he said with a frown. “I saw that look in your eye. You can’t deny it. You wanted me to kick this guy’s ass and I did.” He stepped closer and gave me the smile that used to melt me in my panties. “Now, why don’t we go back to your place and— “

His words were cut short by my hand going across his face.

He took a step back, stunned, but smiling, still smiling.

“Good to see you still like it rough,” he said, rubbing his cheek. “And you haven’t lost your touch.”

Mark was squirming on the floor. The maître d’ was trying to help him up. Someone mentioned calling the cops. Chad was still looking at me… smiling… licking his lips…

I felt the moisture start to flow in force. Pooling in my panties like water from a hot spring. My nipples plumped in my bra. My mouth was literally watering for him. I wanted to touch him, to feel him, to have him inside me. It was as if I was under his control…

Control…

Dammit…

I was losing control…

Fuck it… I had lost control…

As if I had ever had it to lose.

The only moment I was in control of my relationship with Chad was the moment I walked out the door for the last time.

“Goodbye, Chad,” I said, shaking my head as I reached for my purse. “Please don’t ever call me again.”