Thank you everyone for reading, following and favoring this story. Reviews more than welcome. :) Hope you enjoy this next chapter.
DISCLAIMER: The way I decided to divide up chapters, Bruce will come across as a jerk. But believe me, he'll turn around again. I wanted to explore the internal turmoil of Wayne and his side of the story (and his reasoning for his actions) will follow in the next chapter.
It's been a week since the interview and I could not get Wayne out of my head. I had tried. Work was a welcoming distraction but unfortunately Wayne was already part of the news and whenever his face flickered over the TV screens, I felt my heart racing.
"Drinks tonight?" Alex asked while leaning on my computer screen, smirking at me. Alex thought a little too highly of himself in all matters, including his looks. It irked him that I showed no interest in him so he used every situation to flirt with me.
"Who is going?"
"Everyone."
I raised my eyebrows in suspicion.
"I'm serious. Dennis, tell her."
"It's true. We're going for drinks tonight." The bigger-build, quiet man responded from his desk without taking his eyes away from the screen.
"Sure. I'll be there."
Not seeing her was harder for him than he had thought. He missed her presence, her smell, her laugh, her eyes. He went back to his fake persona of Bruce Wayne during the day.
"Alfred," he said to the butler while reading the paper over breakfast. "Have you heard much about the Russian ballet that's in town?"
"They're said to be one of the best In the world. Would you like me to get tickets sir?"
"No," he said while getting up. "I want the entire Russian ballet on my yacht."
Alfred grinned and shook his head.
They had picked one of Gotham's newest 'it' bar. I was ready for a night out with colleagues, cocktails and distractions. My brain needed a serious Wayne-break. I walked up the stairs to the bar, loving the look of new body con dress I had just bought a week ago. Who knows - maybe I was going to meet someone who would make me forget all about Bruce Wayne. As Gotham's cool summer night air breathed new energies into me, I heard two women obnoxiously laughing. And then I saw him. Wearing a black suit with a black tie, he walked down the steps with three women on his side. I've seen Wayne like this before; on TV, in the papers, and even in real life. But something about seeing him after our interviews and time together…something about that was oddly painful.
"Mr Wayne."
He turned instantly around and his smug smile vanished, his hazel eyes staring at me in disbelief, as if he had seen a ghost.
"Miss Hunter." He replied while walking towards me, smiling again but with less arrogance this time.
"Night out in the town?" I managed to ask while glancing at the three drop-dead-gorgeous women who were walking towards his Lamborghini.
He stared at me for a moment. Why wasn't he saying anything?
"You look beautiful."
The comment took me by surprise. Why would he say that? It definitely was not the semiprofessional tone he used to have with me over the last few days, nor was it the arrogant player tone.
"Thanks." I managed to say, looking at him confused.
"All this," he said while gesturing at the girls and the car. "This is not me."
He was like an endless puzzle. Whenever I thought I had him figured out, he would introduce another piece that would not fit. This wasn't him? What does that even mean?
"Then what is?"
Wrinkles filled his forehead, his jawline hardened. He started to open his mouth when the girls in the car kept yelling his name.
"You better get back to your ladies Mr Wayne."
A sad smile wiped over his face.
"Sure you don't want to come for a spin with us?"
Very.
"I have to return to my friends." And with that I turned away from him and made my way to the bar. I was going to need a lot more cocktails than I had initially thought.
Taking the three ballerinas out was the perfect set-up. Paparazzi followed his every move. He bought the most expensive champagne in the house.
"Where else can we go?"
He started walking out with them, pretending to have a great time.
"Mr Wayne."
Her voice tore through his theatrics and sunk straight to his heart.
"Miss Hunter." He said, unsure what mask to put on for her. He tried to force a fake smile but it was so hard to pretend he was someone else whenever she was around. He didn't know why.
"Night out in the town?" She asked looking at the three ballerinas.
He didn't know what to say. He felt a little school boy who was caught stealing something. He forgot how stunning she looked in person. Her dark brown hair in loose curls on a form fitting grey dress.
"You look beautiful." He said it without thinking about it and he saw her surprise and confusion in her expression.
"Thanks." She said, still staring at him with confusion.
He wanted to tell her everything right now. He couldn't stand the way she looked at him right now. He saw her disgust In her eyes. She despised this "side" of him and he didn't blame her.
"All this," he finally said gesturing at the ballerinas, laughing in his Lamborghini. "This is not me."
"Then what is?" She asked tilting her head to her side.
How was he going to answer this. He wanted so desperately.
"Bruce! Come on!" The ballerinas yelled at him.
"You better get back to your ladies Mr Wayne." She said with a smile.
What else could he say? Why should he say anything? This is what he wanted. He wanted her to believe in the lie and she had fully bought it.
He tried to return to his persona and put on a facade of a smile while he felt like he was about to crack on the inside.
"Sure you don't wanna come for a spin with us?" He said with a big grin on his face.
She smiled at him like she was pitying him.
"I have to return to my friends." She said while turning around.
He was about to stop her, turn her around and say something. But what was there to say? All he managed to say in agony was a "good night", as he watched her walk into the restaurant without him.
It's been a week since I ran into Wayne. I was trying to shake my ridiculous feelings for Wayne. Seeing him with the ballerinas was a harsh reminder of reality. When I saw him walking out of the restaurant wight the girls in his arms, it felt like someone had stabbed me. All I managed to say was his name, which I don't even know why I said it. But when I did and when his gaze finally met mine, his facial expression changed dramatically. As if he had taken off his mask.
Silly me for thinking any of that though. I was still annoyed at myself for letting myself believe anything might really happen between us. But more than that - I was annoyed at myself for falling for him.
Work was a welcomed distraction but I couldn't escape him entirely.
"Billionaire Bruce Wayne just took the entire Gotham ballerinas on his private yacht," the news anchor read. Pictures of him surrounded by women flickered over the screens.
Great... I was so annoyed with myself. Annoyed that I had feelings for someone like him. I felt like an idiot.
"Cat?" Peter said. My work day was officially over in an hour but I felt he was about to add more hours to it.
"What?" I stuck my head into his office. The way he smiled at me was bad news for me. I sighed. "What can I do for you?"
He turned the screen of his computer so I could see it. The headline of the online press release he was reading said 'Wayne hosting PR event for Greenwood'. God damn it!
I sighed. "When is it? I see if I can get a camera crew..."
"Tonight."
"What?"
"It's tonight Cat and you're on the Wayne beat."
"Why didn't you tell me earlier?"
"I didn't know earlier. They just sent the press release out."
"What? That makes no sense. Why?"
"Well, that's why you're going." He smirked at me. I wanted to die.
"Bill is already on his way. It starts in an hour."
"Where?"
"The Met. Your boyfriend has money."
My eyes flared up in him in anger.
"Relax Cat. I'm just kidding."
I went back home to change and wrap my head around going to another of Wayne's events. The thought of seeing him again made my stomach twist. A mixture between butterflies and anxiousness.
I chose a Fuchsia colored dress with a grey necklace and grey heels, sprayed on some perfume and headed out the door. The cab was flying through Gotham's night and I wasn't ready for this in the slightest.
Bill was waiting for me at the entrance of the Met.
"How do you think he's gonna appear today? In a jet?"
"A jet cannot land in the middle of the city Bill." I said while checking my phone.
"I feel like he can make anything happen."
"It's money bill. It's not him that makes anything happen. It's his money."
"Boy you really can't stand him, can you?" He said while chuckling.
I wish the answer to that was that simple.
We walked into the room which was not really set up like a press conference but more like a party with a stage. It had round tables with white table cloths. What was this?
A waiter walked up to me.
"Champagne?"
Champagne at a press conference? This was so Wayne. "No thanks."
"Non-alcoholic cider?" He asked.
I hesitated.
"Heck I have some champagne!" Bill proclaimed.
"On the job?"
"Relax! Who's gonna find out?"
"I'll have some cider thanks."
I scanned the room. There was a podium on the stage and "I believe in Donald Greenwood" fliers everywhere.
"Let me figure out where we can set up." I said to Bill.
"Miss Hunter!" It was Amber.
"So glad you could make it. Let me show you to your table."
"My table? I'm sorry, I'm here to cover the event."
"Yes, yes. The camera will be right next to you. No need for you to stand in those heels though. They're gorgeous by the way."
"Thanks." I was so confused.
She walked us to a table all the way at the front.
"The event will start shortly." She said.
"Any information you could give me at this point?"
"I'm sorry I can't."
There were name cards on our seats. This was the strangest PR event I've been to.
Bill set up the camera.
"Dude lighten up this is sick. Check out the menu." Bill said.
"We're not going to eat here Bill."
"What a shame I was hoping you could join us for dinner." His voice tore right through me. I turned around and he was smiling at me. His hands in his pockets. His suit tailored to perfection, the black tie highlighting his dark hair.
"Mr Wayne, good to see you again." I managed to say somehow.
"Have you eaten yet Miss Hunter?"
"Um... No I haven't."
"Then it's settled. You have to stay for dinner. No excuses. Plus the steak is exquisite."
"I'm not sure if I have time. I have a deadline."
"I'm sure your producer will understand." His voice was very determined.
"Dude I can bring the footage back to the station." Bill said.
Thanks Bill! There goes my excuse.
"There! Problem solved. What was your name?"
"Bill...Peters."
"Mr Peters saved the day. Enjoy the show Miss Hunter." He said while leaving.
My gaze followed him through the room as he was shaking hands with people.
"Duuuude." Bill said while laughing.
"what?" I asked annoyed.
"Fucking Bruce Wayne has a crush on you!"
"What the hell are you talking about Bill?"
"He wants you to stay for dinner? I'm sure he wouldn't mind having you stay for desert if you know what I mean."
"Bill shut up."
He kept laughing as he set up the camera.
"Ladies and gentlemen, Mr Bruce Wayne."
Wayne entered the stage, standing far away from the podium. His hand in one pocket, the other on the microphone.
"You all know I'm not a man of many words. I'm new to the politics game. But I do know how to through a party." The audience was laughing. My heart was pounding. "so please enjoy The booze and the food. Politics needs a little bit more fun in it, don't you think?" Applause again. "But I asked you here tonight for a specific reason. Ibelieve Gotham needs someone who is standing up for justice. Especially now that we have a man out there with a mask who thinks he's above the law. We need Someone like Donald Greenwood."
Greenwood walked on stage. Applause again and he was shaking hands with Wayne. While he was taking the podium, Wayne walked off the stage.
I tried to focus on Greenwood's speech.
"I'm announcing my candidacy for Gotham Mayor.."
"Good speech."
I turned to see who just took a seat next to me. It was Wayne.
"He's much better at speeches than I am." He said while grabbing the menu.
I hadn't paid much attention to the fact that the seat next to me had been empty, nor that it was the only one without a name on it. Now I was just speechless. Why was he sitting next to me.
The evening felt to last forever. I couldn't focus on anything Greenwood said because all I could think about was Wayne sitting next to me, not taking his eyes of me.
I went to the bathroom. I needed a moment without him staring at me. What was going on? Why was any of this happening. I stared at myself in the mirror trying to snap out of this. It was just beyond ridiculous. Sitting so close to him made my head spin. Yet, he was one of the most repulsive men in Gotham. What was the matter with me?
I put lipgloss on and tried to focus my energies on the job. I left the bathroom feeling more myself again. More in charge of the situation. As I was walking down the hallway I felt more secure again in my step. I got this.
All of a sudden a hand grabbed me by my arm and dragged me into a room. Wayne. I didn't even understand what was happening or what room I was in. He Closed the door and In one swift move pressed me against the wall with his body. His lips covering mine. His hands on my face, drawing me closer to him. I didn't even know how to react or what to do. He seemed to know exactly what to do on the other hand. His tongue parting my lips, searching for mine. My brain went on auto pilot and I placed my hands on his body. I felt his hands all over me, his lips burning with urgency on mine. His hand wandered up my leg. My brain was coming back from auto pilot. This was wrong. You can't have sex with him. Especially not in what seems to be a storage room of some sort. I'm not a cheap fling. The thought was formulated but for some reason I couldn't say it out loud. His hand kept moving up while his lips were gliding to my neck. His hand touched my panties.
"Stop!" I said, surprising myself that I was finally able to say it.
He stared at me confused. I'm probably the first girl to say no to him.
"This is not me Mr Wayne. I'm not some cheap fling." I moved my dress down again.
He was still leaning with one arm against the wall, staring into my eyes.
"Is that what you think this is?" He finally asked.
I stared back at him, not knowing how to respond to that.
"I can't get you out of my head."
I pushed him away. "Does this normally work for you?" I said while I was getting my baring.
"Does what work for me?"
"Telling girls that it actually means something? Does that usually make them all gooey eyed for you? Do you think I'm that stupid?"
He looked hurt which confused me even more.
"Wow, I had no idea you held me in such high regards."
"It's nothing personal Mr Wayne." I said while turning around and grabbing the door handle.
He pressed his hand against the door, holding it closed.
"Tell me you don't have any feelings for me. Tell me I'm just imagining this between us." He said while standing directly behind me.
I felt my heart pounding in my chest.
He came even closer, his face next to mine, his hand on my stomach.
"Tell me I'm wrong."
His lips on my neck again. This felt so good. My brain was screaming at me. Screaming to open the door and get out of here. But I was very close to throw reason out the door. His hand drew me closer to him.
I gave up. I turned around and kissed him. He drew me closer and pushed me against the wall again. His hand continuing where it left off. This was a huge mistake. But I couldn't stop. I could feel his erection against my leg. He pulled down my panties and opened his belt. This was a really bad idea. He pushed himself inside me. I gasped for air, trying not to make any noise. I wrapped my legs tighter around his midsection, my hands on his back, tracing the strong muscles flexing under his jacket with every move.
"God you feel amazing." He whispered in my ear out of breath.
He kissed me again passionately. His movements intensified. I buried my hands in his biceps as I went over the edge. He followed me quickly, muffling his groan in my neck. After a few seconds he looked at me, his dark eyes staring straight through mine.
And all of a sudden it seemed like he snapped out of it. Like a curtain went down. Something changed. He let slowly go off me, handing me my panties.
I had a bad feeling. He zipped up his pants, closing his belt and didn't say a word. He didn't even look at me. I'm a world class idiot. I felt a giant lump in my throat.
"I'm sorry this wasn't very gentlemen-like of me." He finally said while fixing his tie, still not looking at me.
"I didn't think of you as a gentlemen to begin with." I said, trying to snap him out of it.
He smiled but still didn't look at me. God I was stupid.
"So who goes first?" I asked, regaining my strength in my voice. His eyes finally shot up at me in confusion.
"Well we can't leave together. Either I leave first and you follow a minute later or the other way around. So who goes first Mr Wayne?" I said with my arms crossed in front of me.
His eyes were filled with sadness. He just made no sense to me. He smiled at me defeatedly.
"Ladies first." He said.
I nodded and started walking towards the door.
"Wait." He said, looking on the ground again.
"I'm sorry you deserve better." He said.
What a stupid comment. I wanted to scream. Instead I stayed calm. "We get what we deserve Mr Wayne."
His eyes shot up at me again in pain.
I opened the door and closed it quickly behind me, walking back to the main room. I needed to get out of here as fast as I could.
"There you are. I've been looking for you." Bill said when I returned.
"Let's go." I said scanning the room nervously. I felt so embarrassed and stupid.
"Let me just finish my desert."
"Fine I meet you at the station."
"Geez what happened to you?"
"Nothing, I just want to get back to cut the package."
He nodded and got up, grabbing the camera, looking at me suspiciously.
As we walked down the hallway, Wayne was stepping out the door. I had hoped to avoid this moment.
He moved one hand through his hair before seeing me. His eyes looked haunted and defeated. His eyes snapped quickly at Bill who was looking at Wayne closely.
"Thanks for joining us tonight Miss Hunter. Mr Peters." He put on his fake smile again.
"Thanks for having us Mr Wayne." I replied while I kept walking, not looking at him.
Stepping outside the Met I felt like I came up for air again. As we were waiting for a cab, I took a deep breath.
"Are you ok?" Bill asked.
"I'm fine." I responded trying to hail a cab.
All I wanted was to go home and drink a lot of wine and forget this just happened.
