Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 293

Then there were all the other possibilities on the horizon—Astrid, Carla, Camille, Tara… Chloe. There was my growing contention with Hiro Tanaka. There was the mystery of Amber Bell. What the fuck was this drive they were looking for, and why was it so important? On top of all that, I needed time to heal from a year's worth of emotional investment in Natalie. If I invited Danielle into a relationship while in the middle of all this, I wouldn't be doing her any favors, nor would I be able to give her the kind of attention she deserved. Sure, she might claim to be able to handle it… to be able to cope with anything to be with me, but she didn't deserve that. On more than one occasion, I'd confessed that I could fall in love with Danielle Holland, and if I did that only to break her heart… I didn't know if I could forgive myself.

"So, that's it, then?" She finally asked as she stared at me with red-rimmed eyes.

"I mean, given time, maybe, but…" I sighed, feeling the backs of my own eyes beginning to sting. "I'm sorry."

"I can't just wait indefinitely for you, Marcus."

"I'm not asking you to," I assured her. "If you meet someone amazing, please go for it. You deserve to be happy, and I think, at least for now, you might find that somewhere else."

Danni sighed and collapsed back in her chair… reminding me briefly of an upset toddler more than the composed and graceful woman she usually was. "Fuck, Marcus. I could be so happy with you."

"I know. Maybe if we'd met a year from now…"

She picked up her purse and rested it on the table in front of her, holding the top closed in both hands as she studied it, unable to look at me.

"I… I think I need to go," she said, barely able to choke out the words. I could tell she really wanted to let loose and cry. "I don't expect you to—"

"No. I've got this," I said, understanding that she was talking about paying for the meal.

"Thanks," she said, trying hard to keep herself together. She gave me the briefest of glances and then stood up, the chair scraping across the ground, startling me.

I stood up and circled the small table to envelope her in my arms. She let me, her purse held close to her chest, almost as if she were using it as a shield to guard her heart. Then she started to openly weep, pressing her eyes into my bicep. I stroked her back and just held her, letting her cry as long as she needed and not caring at all about onlookers.

Abruptly, she tore free of my grasp and wouldn't look at me as she whispered, "Thank you."

And then she was gone, leaving me with nothing but a foul taste in my mouth and a mountain of regret.

I felt like I'd done the right thing and hated myself for doing it.

Friday, 12:28 pm

The elevator doors opened, and I walked into the living room feeling like a complete fuck. I'd made Danni cry.

I'd rather kick a puppy down my apartment building's entire collection of stairs than make Danielle Holland cry.

The entire way home, I'd debated whether or not I was making a mistake and had to talk myself out of calling her more than once. I kept trying to rationalize it; maybe I was overreacting because Natalie's rejection was still so fresh, or perhaps I was listening a little too hard to Helen's advice about remaining single. After all, Danni had been offering me all the perks and none of the drawbacks of being in a relationship. How could I lose?

In the end, I remained strong. Not only was I unsure that Danni could take the emotional toll a one-sided open relationship could place on her, but I wasn't sure she could handle some of the more gruesome aspects of being in a relationship with me at all. I don't think the kidnapping and beating had fully registered with Danielle. She'd seen the bruises and heard some of the tales, but Danni wasn't fully cognizant of what people like Roger VanCamp or Hiro Tanaka were capable of. Even worse… I don't think she fully realized what people like that could do to her just for being my girlfriend. Hell… Natalie was probably right in rejecting me.

No. In the end, it was better this way. If only I didn't hate myself so much for doing it!

Deciding I needed to make myself feel worse, I decided to find Emily and check in with her. We'd left things in a rocky spot, with her wanting to talk to Bobbi, but I wanted to make sure she and Natashya arrived in one piece… and perhaps see if she would at least look me in the eyes. Unfortunately, neither of the girls were in the room they'd been staying in, although the freshly mussed comforter and bed sheets were a good sign that they had survived the journey here. I'd been a little concerned that VanCamp might have tried to make a play for them since he'd already tried kidnapping one of them.

Not finding them, I returned to the main living room and spotted my study door open. Emily wasn't there, but Helen and Erin were. My assistant was at my desk on the phone and flashed me a brilliant smile that vanished almost as quickly as it appeared when she saw my face. Helen was sitting in a leather wingback chair with her nose in a book; her blue eyes glanced over the top as I entered the rest of the way into the room.

Erin turned her attention back to the phone. "Hey! Can I call you back with the rest of the information? Thanks." She immediately stood up and rounded the desk, approaching me.

I plopped into another wingback on the opposite side of a small table in front of Helen and answered the unasked question. "I rejected her."

"I know," Erin said, sitting across my lap, slipping an arm around my neck, and cuddling into me. Her head nestled on my shoulder. The weight of her slight frame was comforting, and the presence of her flowery scent was a welcome distraction. I turned my head and buried my nose into her silver hair, inhaling deeply in hopes that Erin's smell would replace the gut-wrenching feelings churning inside me.

Of course, Erin already knew! Danni probably called her and recounted the entire conversation to her in hi-definition technicolor and digital Dolby surround. Women's ability to recall the details of a conversation was borderline unnatural, whereas I probably couldn't have recalled more than the most rudimentary information that would have taken less than a minute to share.

Helen put the book down on the table between us and leaned forward. She wore a light pink silk robe that showed a fair amount of cleavage as it fell away from her chest, drawing my eye despite how I was feeling. "Are you okay?"

Erin must have filled her in on where I was going this morning. I hadn't told her what I'd decided because I hadn't been sure until about five seconds before I rejected her, but the look on my face would have told the story if Danielle hadn't already texted.

"Like crap," I said as I leaned into the back of the surprisingly comfortable chair. Erin's soft lips on my cheek sent a wave of warmth skittering across my body. Her slender fingers played lightly through my hair as she pressed her palm into the other side of my face, drawing me more firmly into the kiss.

I gave them as much of a breakdown of the conversation as I could remember, which reduced the forty-five-minute conversation to a minute and a half… not a minute. I guess I was slightly more enlightened than my fellow males.

"She left pretty abruptly. I think it's so I wouldn't see her cry," I said, then corrected myself. "Well… more than I already had."

"Fuck, Marcus," Erin said. "I'm so sorry."

"You did the right thing," Helen said, which didn't surprise me in the least. She'd been anti-relationship since day one.

"Well, the right thing sucks," I sighed.

"Yes, it does," Helen said. She glanced at Erin as if confirming something and then said. "I think Erin would agree with me when I say that you showed an outstanding level of maturity. I haven't exactly kept my feelings about you being in a relationship a secret, but that aside, I don't think Danielle is the right person for you."

"Maybe," I sighed. "I can't believe she offered to put a collar on for me. What a stupid thing to suggest."

"I can," Erin muttered into my temple. "She was head-over-heels for you, Marcus. A lot more than she was letting on."

"Yeah," I said. "All the crying was a good indicator." I turned my head and looked up at Erin; our faces were so close that our noses nearly brushed. "Am I right? Do you think she could have handled sharing me?"

"I don't know," Erin said as her fingers grazed my face. "I want to say yes, but I could sometimes sense some jealousy. I'm afraid it might have gotten to her."

"Is this a private party?" A feminine voice with a slight Eastern European accent said.

With my chair facing away from the entryway, I couldn't see Natashya, but I called out, "No. Everyone's welcome to the pity party."

A moment later, the dancer came into view, resting her hand on the back of my chair as she looked from Erin to Helen, then settling her mahogany eyes on me. Her brow immediately furrowed. "Is everything okay?"

"Danni wanted a relationship," Erin said. "Marcus turned her down."

"Oh," Natashya said, her lips turning down in a slight frown. "She didn't take it well?"

"No," I said. "She said she was falling in love with me, so she didn't handle rejection very well." Not wanting to talk about Danni anymore, I decided to change the subject. "Where's Emily?"

"Getting lunch," she said.

"Oh," I said, sensing something was up. "By herself?"

"No," she said with an amused little twinkle in her eye. "With Bobbi."

"Oh," I said, alarm bells going off in my brain. "How long have they been gone?"

"About an hour," Helen said, studying Natashya. Then she stood up. "I think I'm going to finish packing for the weekend. When do we leave?"

"In a little under an hour and a half," Erin said as she slid free from my embrace and stood up. "I'm going to go, too. I need to finish packing for both of us," she said, giving me a sympathetic smile as she ran her fingers through my hair one last time.

"Oh… thanks," I said. "You don't have to do that."

"I know, but I'm happy to… at least until you fill that house position."

With that, Helen left with Erin trailing behind her, brushing Natashya's shoulder with her fingertips as she passed by. The oversexed bisexuals shared a brief, heated glance with each other before my assistant walked away. The dancer watched them until Erin closed the door. Then she turned, stepped toward the table in front of me, and gracefully dropped onto its surface. She stretched out her legs so that her feet were on either side of mine and pressed her palms into the glossy wood as she studied me with a sympathetic smile.