We got home later in the day, and I didn’t know what was going to happen.
At least I got some form of an answer when we spent the night similar to the way we did the night before.
He came to my bed, and there he stayed until morning. He thought I was asleep when he left the bed.
I wasn’t, and now I’m not sure what’s weirder. Us like this or the way we were before.
Something has changed between us, but neither of us is acknowledging it. Probably because neither of us wants to acknowledge it.
Is it too late for me to repeat that mantra of not wanting this—whatever it is?
I lie in the bed for another hour before I decide to get up. I’m not sure what I’ll do today. It’s Monday again, and I don’t know if I can live another week like the one I just had.
It’s just gone seven. Marguerite usually gets here early, but I’m not sure how early. I decide to go downstairs to the kitchen hoping she’ll be there, and if she’s not, I hope it’s okay to make coffee.
She is. She’s in there with Lydia, but I can see Vincent in the living room with the baby. They’re drawing on some pieces of paper.
He looks up and sees me watching, and it’s too late when he does to act like I wasn’t.
As he’s looking at me, I make my way in there, but I keep a few paces away because I know he’s cautious of me around his child. His child, who brightens up the way he did the other week when he first saw me. I haven’t seen him since.
Vincent catches him as he tumbles over trying to get to me.
“Easy, tiger,” he says, pulling the baby close.
I smile down at them. I noticed there’re different versions of him. This is one of them. Watching him with his baby shows a softer side to him that actually makes him more alluring.
He stands up with him and offers me a small smile.
“Good morning,” I say. I’m nervous. I’m sure it’s evident with the blush I feel creeping into my cheeks.
“Good morning. Sleep well?” He knows I did. He was there. I nod all the same, and the baby giggles.
His sweet little smile has me smiling too. He turns to Vincent and says, “Princess, Papa.” He starts pointing at me. “Princess.”
Now I can’t help but laugh, although part of me notes he wouldn’t have been wrong years ago. I was certainly treated like one in another lifetime. I never knew it would be my downfall.
“Yes, baby, she is,” Vincent tells him and shakes his head. “He’s a little flirt.”
“He’s sweet,” I answer, unsure of what to say.
“His… name’s Timothy,” Vincent says, looking like he’s decided I can know that.
“That’s a nice name.”
Marguerite comes into the room with a bright smile on her face. “Morning, all. I need that baby now. It’s going to take me at least one hour to get him ready for playgroup. He hates that dreadful uniform.”
Vincent hands Timothy over to her. “Uniforms are not bad.”
“No, if you’re in the army, they are okay. No for babies. We won’t tell your padre we’ll take the cute banana suit today for backup.” Marguerite winks at Vincent and shakes her head when he opens his mouth to protest.
She leaves us and takes the lighter atmosphere with her as she goes.
He stares at me, and it’s like I’m placed back in my role of being captive.
He reaches forward and touches the underside of my jaw then traces behind my ear, along the scar I was left with as a reminder of Russia. It was a cigarette burn. It was the last one, the deepest one. The one that burnt through my skin. The others faded with time. They faded over the ten-year span.
Vincent brings his hand back to my chin and intensifies his gaze on me.
“I’m changing a few things today,” he states, dropping his hand to his side.
“What are you changing?” My breath hitches as I wait for the answer.
“You go to work today,” he says, and my heart swells. I’m so happy I think I could burst.
“Really? You’d let me go?”
“Yes, someone will take you there and bring you back when you finish.”
“Thank you. I appreciate it. I’m…” I don’t know if he cares to hear why I’m so hellbent on going back to work. I’m sure most people, most women, would love to have their bills and everything taken care of. I’m a little different.
“What?”
“I’m working toward something.”
“More articles on older men?” He raises a brow, and the tension in the air shifts to the lighter mood we shared at The Dark Odyssey.
I chuckle. “No, I want to be chosen to write the special annual edition of the magazine. This year, it’s on someone I really admire.”
“Who is it?”
“Coral Winters. She works with charities. I’d love to do the piece on her, and I’ll find out if I’m successful on Friday.”
“Sounds good.”
“Thank you,” I bubble.
“You’d… better get dressed.”
God, this is something I can hold on to. I won’t feel so much like a prisoner now.
I’ll have something to keep me sane.
Now, I just need an end date. The day I return to my life.
As I look at him, though, something whispers to me, asking me if I truly want that. To return to my life, a life… without him.
I’d go back to normal.
What if I didn’t want that? I’ve experienced this strong emotional connection I’ve had with him.
But is it wise for me to go wanting a man like him?
***
Freddie sits forward in his chair and gives me a look of sympathy.
He’s the guy who opened the door to opportunity for me.
He’s strict as anything but likes my work ethic. He runs a tight ship and stands for no nonsense but knows when to show compassion.
“How are you?” he asks.
I straighten up and put on my best smile. The smile I’ve been wearing for the last three days. “I’m okay,” I assure him.
He looks happy to hear that. He was glad to see me come back on Monday, and I was happy things were okay, unaffected with my absence.
The same with Holly. I told them I lost my phone and haven’t managed to get another yet. Everyone assumed the reason I was off the last three weeks was because of Dad. Since that wasn’t far from the truth, I went with it. Both he and Holly know that Dad has an addiction problem and that he’s been in and out of rehab. Both know what we went through when Sasha was killed.
I had to tell them, especially about the times when Dad went to rehab. On the first few instances, I had to take days off here and there. It wasn’t that hard, really, to fall in line with their beliefs on this occasion, although this was the worst, and I’ve never disappeared on everyone before for so long.
“Ava, I have to say I’m concerned about you, and I don’t want you to push yourself too hard if your father needs you,” Freddie says.
“No, it will be fine. I need to be at work, especially with the opportunity to do the piece on Coral. I want to work hard to be considered.”
“You’re already being considered. I haven’t shared this with Brock, but I will share a few things with you to put your mind at ease.” He grins, and I listen on, eager to hear what he has to say. Brock is the competition, and he’s not the nicest of guys. If he’s not trying to grab my ass at work get-togethers and pretending to be drunk, he’s always staring at my breasts. “As you know, the decision will lie with the panel, but they’ll be deciding based on five of your articles chosen at random by me. Those were submitted last Friday.”
My eyes widen. I didn’t know that. We were given a host of things that covered work ethic and our contributions to the magazine over the years. There were originally ten people who were selected for the competition, then last month, that went down to two. Me and Brock. This is the final phase. I worked my ass off with everything, and I pray I do get chosen. Knowing this info about the articles helps ease my mind.
“Thank you. I’m grateful.”
“That’s my part done. As your manager, though, I want to make sure you take care of yourself. You’re a great writer, Ava, and you do good work here, so if you need time with your father, please ask.”
I appreciate his words and kindness. “Thanks, I will.”
I give him a smile as I leave and head to the coffeehouse where Holly will be already waiting for me.
I have roughly half an hour before I have to meet Pierbo. He’s been taking me to work and picking me up. I’ve met him in the car park of the magazine complex over the last few days, and everything has run smoothly. I do what I’m supposed to, and it’s been working.
Holly is sitting in the furthest booth. Today her hair is fiery red. She likes dyeing her hair different colors. Yesterday it was blond.
I see she’s already started on drinks without me, and pastries. This is the girl who can eat whatever she wants and never gain an ounce.
She smiles when she sees me and gives me a hug when I get to her.
“Hey, did you have a good meeting with Freddie?” she asks. She’s gotten on Freddie’s bad side more than once so is cautious of him.
“Yes, it was good. He just wanted to make sure I’m okay.”
She nods, and we sit. Worry covers her face when she looks at me from across the table. She’s wanted to ask me more since Monday but held off. I feel today I’ll get the questions she’s been keeping at bay.
The Barista comes over with two steaming mugs of coffee. It’s our mixture that we’ve always ordered. Caramel and hazelnut lattes with a dash of chocolate sprinkled on top.
“I knew you’d be along soon, so I ordered for you.” Holly smiles.
“Thanks, I missed this,” I answer. Normally, I’d have at least two of these in any day.
“I thought so. It’s cheer-up drinks. And I’m possibly trying to create a chilled mood so maybe you’ll ease my troubled mind.” She gives me a hopeful smile.
“I’m okay, Holly,” I tell her. I can’t have her worrying about me, and I don’t want to add her to my ever-growing list of things I blame myself for.
“You say that, but I sense there’s something you aren’t telling me. You tell me everything, Ava,” she points out.
She’s right. I do tell her everything, or at least everything I can. She doesn’t know about my past. The everything she’s talking about is stuff from the time since she’s known me.
I’ll bet she’d get a shocker, or her hair might turn white if she ever knew that little old me not only went to The Dark Odyssey, but I had sex in public with a man so sexy you’d drool the minute you look at him.
She’d get more shockers if she knew I’d have sex with the said man like I needed oxygen to breathe. But maybe she’d be more shocked that I offered myself up to him in exchange for the debt Dad owes him.
There’s so much to say. So much I would love to get off my chest, but I can’t.
I couldn’t and end up fucking things up because as wild as Holly is, and as much as she’d think Vincent was hot as sin, she’d tell me to call the police if she knew what happened.
“I’m okay, Holly. Dad’s not in a good way.” That’s truth. I haven’t spoken to him again, but I get to see him on Saturday. He’s being released from the clinic then.
She seems a little more at ease at my answer. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“No, there’s nothing anyone can do. He says he wants to change, so I’m hoping he will. I’m thinking of either getting a place for the both of us or having him move in with me.” If I don’t end up staying with Vincent forever.
“Really, Ava?” Her brows knit.
I dip my head, agreeing. “It’s best. That way, I can keep an eye on him and he’d have my support.”
“What about you? That’s beautiful that you want to take such care of him, but what would that do to you? It can be hard facing problems like that every day and not having your own space to get some downtime.” She’s right, and using the opportunity to home in on her psych degree.
I smile. “Are you practicing on me again?”
“A little.” She laughs. Back in college, she wasn’t entirely sure what she wanted to do, so she did a joint honors degree of psych and photography because she loved both. It’s turned out in the few years we’ve been in the real world that Holly is a psychologist. My friend wants to be a relationship counselor, but since she’s been back in college doing the grad program, she’s taking every chance she can get to test out her learning on me. The guinea pig.
“You’re right, even if you’re testing on me, you are right. I don’t want to lose him, Holly,” I say, feeling close to tears.
Losing him will be worse than me not having a space for downtime. I came close weeks ago, damn close, and dare I say it, or rather admit it, Dad would have brought it on himself. We’ve come so far, and this addiction nearly cost him everything.
“Don’t worry, Ava. Try to be strong. If moving in together is the answer, then it is. I guess you’ll have me for downtime.” She nods.
The door to the coffeehouse opens. It’s the jingle that always catches my attention. It makes you automatically look up to see who’s coming in.
The man coming in doesn’t just have my attention, he has the attention of every woman in here with eyes.
Vincent comes in looking sleek in his long black coat. Power and authority ripple off him.
“Damn… that man is gorgeous, and sexy as fuck,” Holly mutters under her breath when she sees him. She’s right again, and I could tell her that he looks just as gorgeous and sexy as fuck without his clothes too. He looks around and sees me.
I can’t be like the others and bask in his presence because I don’t know if his presence means I might have done something wrong.
He makes his way over to us, and Holly leans closer. “Jesus, Ava, do you know him? He’s coming over,” she hisses, eyes wide.
“Um…” is all I can say. I’m not sure what I’m allowed to say.
He gets up to the table and offers up that smile of his that could melt you like hot butter.
“Ladies,” he says and looks at Holly, who is almost as red as her hair. “You must be Holly.” He puts out his hand to shake hers, She takes it and swallows hard.
“Hi,” she answers. “Yes, I’m Holly. Uh-huh.”
“Vincent Giordano.”
The widening of Holly’s eyes confirms she knows his name. “Oh, wow.”
Well, at least she’s heard good things.
“I’m Ava’s friend. I hope you don’t mind if I steal Ava away,” he says.
“No, not at all…” Holly glares at me, giving me the how could you-keep-this-man-a-secret stare. “I’m sure she’ll catch up with me later.”
“I’m sure she will,” he agrees.
I stand and give her a little apologetic smile, but she’s too busy looking at the way Vincent places his hand to the small of my back and ushers me away like we’re a couple.
I wait until we get outside before I speak. “I was going back to the parking lot to meet Pierbo. I hope I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“You didn’t,” he answers, but he stares ahead while we walk down the street. “I just felt like picking you up myself. You said I could find you at the coffeehouse, so I went there.” Now he looks at me, and I can’t help but smile.
“Oh,” I breathe.
We stop, and he cups my face, guiding me to his lips for a kiss.
It’s a kiss that makes me almost believe this is us.
I fool myself into thinking it while he kisses me, although reality is trying to pull me back. It’s trying to keep a rein on my heart.
It’s just hard to resist the fantasy when he’s the first man to have this effect on me.
He’s the first man to make me feel like I could give him everything.