by Mia Wolf
As I hightail through the foliage, my mind comes to a halt at Andrew. What came over me so suddenly? This uncontrollable hunger to devour something, to bathe in a certain sense of satisfaction, to be close to him. This is dangerous. I let my fangs taste the wind as a shockwave of growl breaks from within me. It is not like me to let the control slip, to be overcome so completely. But it seems that the animal part of me had been craving for this for an eternity.
Only when I start feeling the ache in my bones from the running, I stop and crash to the ground with a thud. The exhaustion reaches my head, but my heart feels content. My second instinct is a dull fear. If this transformation was brought on by that model, I’m going to have to be careful around him. Losing control is not an option this time.
I find my clothes, put them on, and take a light stroll around the neighborhood to calm myself completely before I can start working on the designs for the show just like I had planned. I look around at the caves which are neatly forming the hood for all the houses and at the neighborhood which is decorated with fairy lights and Jack-o-lanterns. I love spending time in the village, but I’ve known for a long time that I belong somewhere completely different. As true as that might be, this will always be my home.
Once I feel calm again, I walk back home and clear away the furniture in my living room to turn the floor into my work station. I sit surrounded by a pile of fabrics scattered all around me. Bits and pieces of cloth are spilled everywhere like confetti. I’m in my element. I have a week left to design all the dresses and prepare the fashion show according to Regal’s guidelines. Though everything is neatly mapped out in my head, there’s still a lot of work to do.
My phone vibrates yet again, and I check the notification, surprised to find that it’s not from Ashley Wang’s staff. My heart pounds in my chest when I realize who the text is from.
“Hi. I’m Andrew Brehm,” the text reads. I place a hard hand on my chest to stop my heart from going haywire.
I check the profile picture of the sender just to make sure he’s the same Andrew that made me shift into my bear and run through the forest with raging hormones.
What do I say to him? My mind can’t even form thoughts right now, and the ones that I’m thinking are probably not okay to share, like “hi hotness” or “have my babies.” I find the guy’s profile photo again and click on it to take a good look at his gorgeous face. He’s cleanly shaven in this one, wearing a plain white V-neck, and his eyes seem to be glaring into my soul through my smartphone screen. That thought doesn’t help the bass drum beating inside me.
I instinctively bite my lip, and I can feel the pressure rise in my core. This man is making me unspool and unroll like a thread running loose. It would be rude to not respond, especially since he might be doing the fashion show as a favor to Ashley Wang.
After thinking and re-thinking what to say, I decide to simply introduce myself. Can’t go wrong with telling my name, I reason.
“Hi, Andrew Brehm. I’m Rose,” I type and hit send. As dumb as it sounds, it’s the best I can manage given the circumstances.
I shake my head to get rid of thoughts of him and me in bed and try to get back to work. There’s work to be done. Besides, Andrew was probably just introducing himself to be courteous and polite. He might not want to have an actual conversation with me. The realization stings like disinfectant liquid on a fresh wound, but it helps me concentrate on my designs.
I’m sewing a yellow collar onto a semi-formal Shoma when my phone vibrates again. My heart lurches, and I grab the device to check who it is. To my surprise and delight, it’s Andrew again.
“Your designs are really something else.” The text is followed by a smiley face emoji. My heart warms at the compliment, and I catch myself staring at the picture of his face again.
“Thanks, Mr. Brehm,” I reply, not knowing what else to say. I feel like I’ve been transported back to my teens where I was constantly out of words to say to the boys who would try to talk to me. But in my defense, I was just as dumbfounded as they were.
I stare at the screen in my hand for a response while still holding the needle in the other.
“You can call me Andrew.”
“Andrew,” I text back. What the hell? What kind of response is that?
“Rose,” he says, and I imagine my name leaving Andrew’s lips. The effect is immediate. A slow moan escapes my mouth. I hit myself on the head to snap out of the reverie. Men like him don’t go out with women like me. Besides, what am I doing thinking about him when I have less than a week to prepare for the biggest show of my life?
History repeats itself. The thought swirls in my head as I push aside the phone and pick up the needle once again.
There is another buzz, and I check it to make sure it’s not Ashley Wang. It isn’t. It’s Andrew. I shouldn’t be texting this guy, no matter how gorgeous he is. There’s no use. Plus, I have designs to finish. The guilt wraps itself around my throat, curling and tightening until I feel suffocated, but I can’t help myself, I open the message all the same.
“Are Shomas your original design?”
I keep forgetting that most people don’t know about Shomas. I bet even Ashley Wang thinks it’s a resurgence of some old tribal wear from Alaska or something.
“Something like that,” I reply, hoping to dodge the question.
“Your responses are short, am I disturbing you?”
Yes.
“No, not at all,” I text back. “I’m sorry. I don’t know much about you. What do you do when you’re not modeling for amateur designers?”
The text comes naturally. I want to know more about this guy, who he is, what he does, what he likes… Where all of this is coming from is beyond me.
“I make friends when I’m not modeling. As for work, I run a fitness brand. Though, I don’t think you would require my services. You’re in pretty good shape.”
Is he flirting with me? Or is it just in my head? In any case, him being this awfully nice doesn’t help me in maintaining a distance between us. Then again, my curiosity is getting the best of me, anyway.
“I didn’t know you’ve seen pictures of me.” Unlike his, my profile picture is of the new puppy that Rigsby and Tatiana, my neighbors, have bought for their daughter Rin.
“Your website has a flattering photo of you. The photographer did a great job.”
This is shameless flirting, right? Or am I reading this completely wrong? A compliment from a guy that looks like him is hard to ignore. One part of me is giggling through her teeth, and another part of me desperately wants to not get so easily swayed by a few words of praise.
“You’re too generous with your compliments, Mr. Brehm,” I reply trying to put a halt to the growing intimacy between us.
“Rose,” says the next text and my heart skips a beat. Why does he have to say my name as if we’ve known each other for a lifetime? “I reserve the compliments for the same people who get to call me Andrew. Trust me, I mean it when I care to mention it.”
The sternness in his words is so evident that I feel chills from just reading the text. It’s precisely what gives me the courage for typing my next message.
“I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t offend you, Mr. Brehm.” I laugh out loud as I send the text. In my mind, I’m thinking, “let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Mr. Brehm.” I’m not going to sit around and get tamed just because he’s used to getting his way with people. With a face like that, I’m sure he doesn’t have to ask for things twice.
“Low blow, Miss Maibach. You mock my sincerity.”
It’s only been five minutes since we started texting. We don’t know anything about each other. Where on earth is this sincerity coming from? I almost want to say something cynical about it again, but I stop myself just in time. I learned from Michael not to trust people anymore. But Andrew is helping me with the show, I shouldn’t forget that. Maybe that means he’s a good person. Plus, making some friends in New York would do me some good, too.
&nbs
p; “I’m sorry, that wasn’t cool of me. Let’s just say I’m not that good at making friends.”
There’s a little sincerity from my side. Andrew seems like he might be a nice guy. And texting is just harmless, right? Then again, things between Michael and me started out as harmless, as well. The memory of how I met Michael comes rushing back to me. He lived nearby my place in New York, and we had noticed each other around a few times. I was standing at the gate of my apartment building one day, unable to find a cab and cursing the rain. He insisted that I join him in his car. It was a no brainer, our offices were right next to each other. It really started out completely harmless. I had no idea what was waiting for me in the future.
“I’m pretty good at making friends, Rose. But I wasn’t talking about being friends with you.”
My first thought is, “he doesn’t want to have anything to do with me.” But that changes when I receive the next message.
“We should go on a date, what do you say?”
“Andrew, are you always this forthright on your first conversations?”
“Rose, you make it sound like it’s a bad thing. I’m just good at knowing what I want.”
My mind is going crazy in its shell. I have not been pried and poked and investigated like this before. It’s strangely uncomfortable, and terrifying.
“How do you know I don’t have a boyfriend?”
“Do you?”
I snort. Does this really work on women?
“I suppose we should keep our relationship strictly professional, Mr. Brehm.”
That must have hurt because it was definitely intended to. I’m not ready to walk into a relationship to become a train wreck again. Hell, I have way too much on my plate right now to even want to think about having a relationship. I realize my temper is flaring up a little. I breathe deeply to calm myself down and try to put this behind us. I wouldn’t want this to cause any trouble for the show.
“Ouch,” says the next text. I don’t respond.
“We’re just two people who work together.” I try to keep my wits about myself, hoping he’ll comply.
“Just two people who work together? Sure, I can do that,” he writes back. I instantly feel better to know that he understands. I don’t want to sour the relationship between him and Ashley Wang somehow just because I have trust issues.
If he can play it nice, I can stay friends with him.
I’m consoling myself about the newfound possibility of my friendship with Andrew when his next shatters all of my sanity to pieces.
“You look ravishing in silver,” it says followed by a cheeky wink emoji.
Sweet mother of woods. I feel the heat straight between my legs as I read the text on my screen. It makes my heart ache like a distant hum. The feeling is unlike I’ve ever felt, it’s like I’m drunk and hyperaware at the same time.
I sit amidst the bricolage of clothes, coming undone from a stranger’s words. Working with him is not going to be easy, is it?
I didn’t know I could need someone this much.
Chapter 6 – Andrew
I’m meeting Zack at his place for a beer. It’s something we do from time to time when both of us manage to be in the same city. Tonight, I wanted to be in the company of a friend.
It’s not very often that I miss my family back home, and I try to remind myself of everything that I’ve built up here. Zack’s story is similar to mine. Left his home, built himself a successful business, started a family. The latter is something that I haven’t given much thought to. But then Zack has always been a bit further ahead of the curve than I have. He started his business two years before I started RISE.
Family, I think to myself. I never thought that that’s something I might want in life. When Zack told me he was going to get married, I thought he was joking. He wasn’t. It’s been good these past two years to see him so happily married. And now a baby is on its way.
It was seeing Zack getting married that made me first ask myself if I wanted a family, too. The answer at the time was, ‘hell no.’ Two years later, I see how important family can be. Actually, that’s not entirely true. I always knew that family was important, or that at least a good family was. I just never had much experience with it, what with growing up in a house where I was nothing more than a means for my father to accomplish his own goals.
I would never do that to my children. Nevertheless, I have always been afraid of becoming my father which is what’s really keeping me from starting a family of my own. That and the fact that I have not found someone I might want to start one with. Until now…
It is ridiculous to think that a woman I have literally only seen in a picture might be my mate. I can’t help but laugh at myself.
I walk into Zack’s 10,000 square feet mansion.
“Hi Andrew,” says Olivia, Zack’s wife, the moment she sees me.
“Liv, have you actually gotten more gorgeous since the last time I saw you?” I say while I hug her.
“Can you please teach Zack to sweet talk me like that?” she giggles while holding her pregnant belly.
“Everything good in there?” I ask pointing towards her stomach.
When I came to meet Zack a week ago, Liv let me feel the kicking in her abdomen which was simultaneously the most fascinating and the creepiest experience of my life.
“Yeah, just another month and a half to go. It’s making me nervous,” she says, and I see the muscles in her neck tighten.
“You’ll be fine, Liv. Zack will take care of you, and I will take care of Zack. And we’ll throw lil’ Ouran the best homecoming party ever,” I say placing a comforting hand around Olivia’s shoulder. “Where’s Zack?”
“He’s waiting by the pool for you.” She points towards the lawn and the swimming pool in the back.
I make my way through the large middle hall of the house. Zack’s mansion looks like a modern day recreation of a Victorian era castle. It’s state-of-the-art and distinctly furnished with dark wood furniture. The dim lights give it a museum look. I’ve spent many nights at Zack and Olivia’s place when I didn’t want to be alone in my penthouse apartment.
Living alone, a penthouse can feel disturbingly empty, especially at night.
I swing open the door to the back and survey the lawns and the pool which are some twenty meters away from where I stand. I can see Zack lounging on one of the pool chairs and typing away on his laptop.
“Doesn’t Olivia tell you to leave work at the doorstep?” I say to Zack, but he doesn’t even look up from his screen. There’s a reason why the man is so successful, nothing diverts his attention.
Once Zack is done, he shuts his computer, stretches his neck, takes a deep breath then finally acknowledges my presence. I’m used to it by now.
I take a seat on the adjacent chair and look up at the sky. Zack’s house is a bit on the outskirts of New York, so the sky is considerably more free of light pollution.
“I got the Vinyl meeting,” I say still staring up idly at the sprinkle of stars.
“Really?” Zack asks genuinely surprised.
I hum a quiet “mhm” in response.
“Honestly, I did not think they would respond,” he says, seemingly deep in thought.
“Liv’s looking happy.” Zack and Olivia have both had their fair share of tough circumstances in their life. I’m happy for the two of them that they can now breathe and enjoy life a little, and I want them to take it easy for a bit, with the baby coming and everything. I’ve told Zack as much.
“She is. So am I,” Zack replies patting my back. “Thanks for looking out for us.”
I shake my head. As if he needs to thank me.
“I think I like someone,” I begin, but when I can’t find any better words to say, I let it rest there.
“A human woman?” Zack asks jokingly. He’s been trying to set me up with women for a lifetime. But since I’ve said no to every single one of them, Zack has concluded that I may not be into human females.
“Yes, a huma
n woman,” I agree. A quiet voice in my head says, ‘as far as I know.’
“Who is this exceptional person who is making none other than Andrew Brehm get tied up in knots?”
“I’m not tied up in knots,” I say as if being riled by a sibling. Zack and I do have a bit of a siblings dynamic. At least we tease each other like siblings.
“Yeah, but for real, who is she?” The curiosity in his voice turns up a notch.
“I’ll tell you when I’ve met her,” I say still looking up at the stars.
“So you haven’t even met her?” All the seriousness in Zack’s voice evaporates with a single statement.
“Nope.” I don’t really care if he believes me. “What’s it like having a family?”
I can tell Zack is taken aback by the sincerity in my voice. I look him in the eyes to see what’s happening behind them. I can tell by a single look that all of the worldly concerns have left him at that moment.
“Andrew, you don’t know purpose until you have a family.” He emphasizes the last couple of words to make sure I understand every single one.
We both sit staring at the stars in silence for a long time before Zack speaks.
“I would love to meet this girl if she’s already making you think about starting a family.” I can feel his intent gaze on me.
“I didn’t say I’m thinking about starting a family,” I reply with a dead-pan expression.
“You didn’t have to,” he says then chuckles to himself.
“You’re so annoying sometimes.”
I eat dinner with Zack and Olivia, and we discuss possible names for the baby if it’s a girl. We already decided on Ouran if it’s a boy. When the two of them start discussing how to discipline the child, I reassure them that I’ll be the one to spoil them like the good uncle I am.
Family. I’m thinking about what Zack said on the drive back. I’ve literally just texted Rose, and I’m already having all kinds of crazy ideas. I don’t want to get ahead of myself. Then there is this unmistakable physical reaction that she brings out in me. I have never been more turned on by a text conversation. The thought makes me chuckle as I feel the wind through my hair while driving home. I can’t wait to meet her.