Underestimated Part 14

My mind drifted back to Drew a lot that night.

Even standing there in the kitchen, cutting up onions, I thought about Dawson telling me that he loved me several times a day. Drew had never once told me in six years that he loved me. The closest time that I, not him, had ever come close was late one night when he had just gotten back from someplace that I didn't know. I never asked. I wasn't allowed to know because it didn't concern me. The one time that I did ask, he had told me that my business was to please him, and that was it.

I was already in my bed and was asleep when he crawled in beside me. It was the only time that I could ever remember him being somewhat gentle with me. He had kissed me a lot. He hardly ever kissed me when we had s.e.x, but that night he kissed me deep and pa.s.sionate.

He didn't ask me to do anything and caressed me like he never had.

He didn't tell me not to come, and when I was ready he was ready with me. He stared down at me attentively when we were finished, and brushed my cheek with the back of his hand. I kissed him softly and spoke.

"I could have loved you," I said, and I could have.

"This isn't about love," he said, got off of me and left me there alone with my thoughts and fears.

The following morning he was back to being Drew, and demanded that I sit naked in his office, spread eagle on his sofa while he worked. I had to give him a b.l.o.w.j.o.b under his desk while he did a video conference, and endure one of his spankings because he had m.a.s.t.u.r.b.a.t.ed me to o.r.g.a.s.m and had told me not to come. I spent seven hours in his office that day, and he wouldn't even let me dress when Rebecca brought in our lunch. He said she had seen me naked before and I sat there humiliated, waiting for her to leave.

After lunch he had decided that the sofa was too far away and made me sit on his desk with one foot on the floor and one on his desk. He worked the mouse on his computer, made phone calls, and even did a conference call about margin in a store in, Los Angeles, all while I sat there and let him penetrate me first with his fingers, than an ink pen, a letter opener, and when he would get bored he would go back to his job for a while. He would just nonchalantly pick something up, anything that he could push in and out of me while I sat quietly, letting him do what he wanted, waiting for the time that he would tell me that I could go.

My first dream that night was about Justin. He was around a year old. It was the middle of summer and extremely hot. He was sleeping beside me on my mattress on the floor. I had the windows rolled out and kept him covered with a sheet so that the mosquitos wouldn't eat him during the night. I was wakened when my parents came home fighting. They always fought. I knew my dad hit my mom and could tell that she crashed into the table.

She never backed down though. She always gave it right back to him.

Justin had sat up, scared, and I rubbed his back and hummed a soothing tune, letting him know that I was there, and he was okay. I listened to my dad scream at my mom and call her a s.l.u.t and a wh.o.r.e and how no other man would do what he was doing and raise some other man's kid. I knew after they came and took Justin away from me that day. That was why it was so easy for my dad to let him go. He had a different dad than I did, but I didn't understand when or how. I remembered when Justin was born and how happy my dad was that he had been a boy.

I sat up in bed with tears in my eyes, missing my little lost brother. I did do a lot better, and the dreams came less and less. Finding out that he had a nice home and parents who adored him, made it easier, but they still crept up every now and then. I looked over to Dawson. I hadn't wakened him. Normally I would wake to him holding me and caressing me, talking me calm, and letting me know that he was there. I was there safe with him and wrapped in his arms. I touched his cheek with my hand. I was so blessed to have him. Any other man would have probably deemed me crazy and got the h.e.l.l away from me as fast as he could. Dawson didn't. He was always right there, and for the life of me I didn't know why. He turned in and kissed my wrist.

"You okay?" he asked with closed eyes. I lay back down as he pulled me close to him.

Chapter 7.

I dreamed about Drew more and more. He was haunting me, consuming my sleep, and I knew that it was flying to Las Vegas that weighed heavy on my mind. I was so thankful for Dawson, being there to talk me down after every time I woke panicked.

Three days before we were to fly out was the worst. I went to bed with Dawson, and the dread and antic.i.p.ation of being in Las Vegas was nerve wrecking. I fell right to sleep after he had fixed me a cup of Starlight's famous relaxing tea.

It was the first time ever that Drew had taken me out in public. He had a benefit banquet and a lot of well- to-do people were going to be there. He had someone come and do my hair, bought me a beautiful evening gown, and my makeup and nails were done professionally as well. I met him at the foyer, and I actually felt a little something for him. He looked so handsome in his tuxedo and his mouth noticeably dropped when he saw me. My hair was up with soft dangling curls. I wore a beautiful, opened back dress that was black with a low cut front, showing just the right amount of cleavage. The dress was long and slit clear up my right side. The material hugged my curves perfectly and the three inch stilettos with the strap delicately wrapping my ankles, tied it all together.

That was the first time that I knew for sure what Drew did for a living, and why he was as rich as he was.

He took my hand and opened my door for me. I felt happy and was glad to be getting out of the house, of course he coached me the whole way. I knew what I was allowed to say and what I wasn't, which was pretty much nothing.

Smile and look pretty, that was my job.

We pulled into a fairly empty parking garage, and I wondered what we were doing there. It didn't look like a place for a banquet; however, the building was breathtaking. I had been to downtown Las Vegas a few times, but not in the evening where the lights seemed magical.

"What are we doing, Drew?" I asked, wondering whether I should or not.

"I am taking you to one of my stores," he replied as the driver pulled right up to the elevator doors.

I wanted to ask him what kind of store, but I did have a pretty good idea. I had heard him on the phone enough to pick up bits and pieces.

We went up in a very impressive elevator. The back wall was mirrored. White, soft leather benches covered the other two sides. My breath caught in my throat when the doors opened to the sixteenth floor.

We were standing in the most exquisite jewelry store that I had ever seen. Well, I had never seen one, but still. The white marble floors gleamed, and the ma.s.sive amount of lit display cases with sparkling diamonds were breath taking. I knew that Drew worked in diamonds, but I wasn't expecting that, at all. The lighted sign above the store read, 'Callaway Jewels.' I had seen the commercial a million times and never knew. I knew that this was not his only store, and the commercial made it clear that there were twelve others throughout the country along with three in Europe.

"Drew?" I said, questioning what I was doing there. A man in a white tuxedo reached for my hand.

"You need to go pick out your wedding rings. I can't take you to a party as my wife without rings." He actually smiled happily at me.

"I need your help," I a.s.sured him.

"Why?" he asked annoyed.

"How do I know what to get? How much money should I spend? I don't know how to do this, Drew. Come with me, please," I begged.

He laughed. "Don't worry about the money. Pick out what you want. I have to make a call. Carson is here to help you."

I took the man's white gloved hand, and he led me to the lit case of rings.

"You can pick anything from this case," he instructed.

I didn't want to pick from that case. I knew that I was being shown the most expensive pieces in the store.

They were all so beautiful and I had a hard time deciding.

I wanted them all. I could only remember owning one ring my entire life. My grandma Joyce had ordered it from Avon for me. I felt bad for leaving it behind when I was taken away from my home. I didn't wear it much because it had left a black ring around my finger when I did, but I cherished it because it was a gift from my grandma.

I chose a stunning, boasted with a six-carat shimmering pink diamond ring, complete with three baguette white diamonds set in platinum and rose gold. I stared at the ring constantly as we drove to our destination. Drew noticed my joy and commented.

"You like that?" he asked.

"I love it. It's the most beautiful thing I have ever owned. Can I ask how much it's worth?" I asked. None of the prices were on any of the rings, and I was sure that elegant jewelry stores like his didn't place the price on their jewels.

"Thirty five thousand," he replied. I gasped.

Holly s.h.i.t....

I thought that I did exceptionally well at the banquet. I stayed close by Drew, and mostly only smiled when he would introduce me to his acquaintances. I wouldn't have called them friends. I was sure that Drew wasn't capable of having a friend. Even the guy, Derik that seemed to be his sidekick and was with him all the time seemed to be annoyed with him more than anything.

Drew was more attentive toward me that night than he ever had been. His hand constantly rested on the small of my back, and he held my hand. I was sure that it was all for show, but nonetheless it did make me feel special for a little while.

I actually felt like I was envied by the women standing around watching as Drew waltzed me across the dance floor. I was flattered when he raised his eyebrows at my flawless elegant ballroom dancing.

I did what I was told to do. I stood by his side with my gla.s.s of wine and looked pretty.

I did notice a man in a wheelchair that constantly stared at us. He looked sickly and was being escorted by a much younger lady that I was sure was his nurse or caretaker. I turned to Drew, just in case the guy could read lips.

"Drew, why does that man keep staring at me?" I asked. "Who is he?"

"Don't worry about it," he said with a tone that told me that he didn't want me to know, or it was none of my business.

I let it go, but shortly after, the man was wheeled over to us. I had never seen Drew suck up to anyone before. He was kissing this man's a.s.s like nothing I had ever seen.

"This is my beautiful wife, Morgan," he said, introducing me, but failed to disclose the man in the wheelchairs name.

He took my hand and ran his hand over my pink diamond. "I'm Randal Callaway," he said, not letting go of my hand.

I felt uncomfortable and wondered about the name again. Our home said Callaway estates. The jewelry store said Callaway Jewels, and now his name was Callaway.

Maybe Drew really didn't own any of it. Maybe he was a relative. Maybe he was just the CEO. I wished that I could ask Drew about the name, but knew that he would tell me that it didn't concern me.

"Leave us, Drew," the man said looking up, finally letting go of my hand.

"I am not sure that is such a good idea, sir. Morgan isn't used to being around this many people. She's a little uncomfortable," Drew tried.

"Walk away, son," the man demanded with a stern expression, and just like a little whipped pup, Drew retreated with his tail between his legs. I was in awe that somebody actually put the narcissist a.s.s in his place.

"Sit with me," the man said, taking my hand again and leading me to an elegant set of chairs in a corner.

I sat, and he held both my hands in his. I was confused and wanted to know who he was. I didn't ask.

Drew was giving me a death stare, and I wasn't about to say anything without being asked first.

"How do you like the estate?" he asked.

"I love it there." I replied. I did love the estate. I just wished I didn't have to share it with Drew. I wanted to ask him why his name was on the stone wall, so bad, but didn't dare.

"Good. So you are happy?"

f.u.c.k no...

"Very," I lied.

"You have no idea how happy that makes me, Morgan," he smiled. "Is there anything that you need?" he asked, and again I was confused as to why he cared. He acted as though he knew me or something.

"No, sir, Drew gives me more than I need," I explained. I did have everything that I needed, minus the essential emotional care.

I mostly listened, and he talked, knowing that Drew was staring daggers at me. I didn't know what I was supposed to do. Did he want me to refuse to talk to the man? I didn't even know what his interest in me was, let alone who the h.e.l.l he was. He gave me a card and explained that his cellphone number was on there and to call him if I ever needed anything.

I thanked him, and his caretaker wheeled him away.

Drew was angry, and I could tell. We left shortly after that. He tapped his foot nervously on the floorboard of the limousine.

"Drew, did I do something wrong?" I finally asked. He turned and angrily glared at me.

"You are joking, right?" he asked.

What the f.u.c.k...?

"I thought that I did everything that you asked me to do. What did I do?" I asked, and had a feeling that it had something to do with Mr. Callaway.

"What did he say to you?" He asked with an angry tone.

I shrugged my shoulders. "Not much of anything.

He admired my ring, asked me if I was happy, if I had everything that I needed, and he gave me his card and said that if I ever needed anything that I could call him anytime.

Who is he, Drew?"

Drew put his hand out, and I knew that he wanted the card. I unsnapped my little handbag and handed to him.

He wadded it up in his hand and tossed it to the floor. He held his hand out again, and I didn't know what he wanted.

I didn't have anything else. Did he want me to take his hand?

"What?" I asked.

"The rings," he said.

f.u.c.king d.i.c.k head...

I should have known that it was just for show, but a little part of me wanted to believe that he wanted me and that the rings were a symbol of that. I slid the rings from my finger, and he dropped them in his shirt pocket. He still didn't tell me who the man was, and I was a little taken aback at how he seemed to cower to the older man.

The driver didn't drive us home, and we went to a penthouse in downtown Las Vegas. I knew that it wasn't going to be a pleasant romantic evening, and I was in for a night of h.e.l.l. That was an understatement. I froze as he led me to the bedroom. The bed was draped with a red velvet cover and had black straps with soft red collars at all four post. There was a table with different s.e.x toys laid out, and I knew that they were all for me.

"The next time somebody asks me to leave you alone with them, and you hear me say that I don't think that it is a good idea, you need to agree and ask me to stay," he said in a low warning tone as he circled me and kissed my bare chest.

"You should have clarified that before we got there. I didn't know what I was supposed to say. I don't even know who the guy is," I tried to explain and took an angry blow from the back of his hand.

"You shouldn't be so stupid," he accused. "Don't you ever talk to someone without my presence again. Do you understand, Morgan?"

"Yes, Drew," I answered, holding my face.

"My father is none of your f.u.c.king business.

Nothing I do is any of your business. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"

Father?

"Yes, Drew," I answered again. He seemed to think that I gave a half of an ounce about what he did. I didn't, and I didn't want to know him, his father, or what he did. I just wanted out of that room, and was terrified that he was going to hurt me.

"Take your clothes off and lay on the bed," he demanded and left the room.

The first thing that I did was walk to the gla.s.s doors. I didn't care that I was somewhere high in the sky. I would jump. It would have been better than living and being married to that monster. The doors were locked and wouldn't budge, of course. That was my luck. I didn't know how much time I had before he came back, so I did the only thing that could do. I undressed and lay on the bed, close to the edge with my feet crossed, trying to cover my naked body as long as he would allow it.