by Iona Rose
He pours two glasses and hands one to me. He pauses for a moment and then he lifts his glass. “To honesty,” he says.
“I’ll drink to that.” I clink my glass against his.
He takes a drink from his own glass and then he moves around the kitchen, chopping, dicing, frying and doing all manner of clever things with chicken and vegetables.
“You really can cook then,” I say.
“I like to think so, but you haven’t tasted it yet,” Matt smiles. “But don’t worry. Whatever happens to our main course, I have dessert in the fridge, made by a world class pastry chef.”
I go quiet, reminded once more of the difference between our lives. Matt and his world class dessert chef. Me and a cheesecake bought from Kroger.
“You’ve gone quiet,” Matt points out. “My mom would be really upset to think you weren’t looking forward to her world famous Pavlova.”
“Your mom made dessert?” I say.
Matt nods.
“Yup. She’s by far the best dessert maker I’ve ever known. And I’ve known a lot of pastry chefs.”
I pause at this. Maybe Matt and I aren’t so different after all. I mean everyone thinks their mom’s cooking is the best don’t they? “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything,” Matt says, serious suddenly.
“Where’s your bathroom?” I finally smile.
Seeing I have mellowed a bit, he relaxes a little. “Through the living room, down the hall, the last door on the right,” he says.
I hop off the stool and follow his directions. It’s exactly as I pictured it. Black granite surfaces that gleam, a huge claw-footed bathtub, a shower that looks big enough to hold a football team, and a quite impressive array of lotions and potions. I do my business and wash my hands and then I go back to my perch. “You have quite an impressive collection of toiletries,” I grin. “How long does it take you to get ready in the morning?”
“I just roll out of bed, looking this good.” Matt winks. “They’re just decoration.”
I almost smile then choose to roll my eyes. It’s starting to feel normal between Matt and me. Too normal. Like we haven’t got this giant weight hanging over our heads. Maybe I should forget all of my questions and just enjoy a civilized goodbye dinner with Matt, but I know I’ll regret it if I don’t get the answers I need.
“It’s almost ready. Why don’t you go take a seat at the table?” Matt says.
I get off the stool and swallow down the rest of my wine, enjoying the warm feeling in my stomach. I want to be just tipsy enough to be brave and ask everything I want to ask. But I don’t want to be drunk.
Matt tops off my glass before I go to the table and then he hands me the bottle. “Might as well take it to the table,” he says. “You’re probably going to need it.”
“Why?” I ask, suspicious suddenly.
“Well you’re about to eat my home cooked food aren’t you?” Matt grins.
I take my glass and the bottle and choose a seat that gives me a view of the city. Dusk is starting to fall and lights are coming on. “This really is a spectacular view. How do you get anything done here?” I ask over my shoulder.
Matt comes towards the table with his glass. He tops it off and places it down opposite me. “My home office is on the other side of the apartment,” he says. “When I first moved in here, I had this idea in my head of sitting right where you are now on my laptop. But of course it didn’t happen. I was far too nosey.”
He heads back to the kitchen and returns with two plates. He puts one down in front of me and takes his seat. “Bone apple tea.” He grins.
I crack a smile and shake my head. The meal looks wonderful. Chicken, mushrooms and spring onions mixed in a spicy smelling sauce with pasta. I take a forkful and chew it. “It’s delicious.”
Matt’s smile tells me he knew this for a fact. He might have joked about his cooking, but he really does know his way around a kitchen.
I watch him subtly as he takes a forkful of his meal. He’s still Matt. Still the man I was rapidly falling in love with. Isn’t he? The money, the power, the wealthy family. It’s a lot to get my head around, and even without trying to get to the bottom of Matt’s lies, I’m feeling kind of overwhelmed by it all, like I’ve stepped into someone else’s life.
I decide it’s time to get to the bottom of everything. And then at least I can walk away knowing the truth. Or not. Who knows? I sure as hell don’t anymore. “So, the restaurant… what made you do the whole undercover thing?”
“I told you. I’m a spy,” Matt smiles. His face turns serious when he sees I’m not joking around anymore. “Where do I start?”
“The beginning.” I might not like what I’m about to hear, but at least I know it will be true.
He nods and as he starts to speak, he gets this faraway look on his face, an expression that tells me he’s genuinely remembering something rather than feeding me another pack of lies, “I’ve always been drawn to the restaurant side of the business for obvious reasons,” Matt says. “But like I said earlier, Seb is the numbers guy, so it was actually him who spotted an anomaly in the books for La Trattoria. He came to me and told me he suspected something strange was going on with the finances. He brought in a professional auditor who confirmed that something was amiss. But at that point, we had no real proof there was anything but an incompetent manager in place. We had grounds to fire him, but we discussed it, and we decided we needed more information. For starters, we needed to know if anyone else within the restaurant was in on the scheme if indeed there was a scheme. Seb suggested sending someone in to pose as a waiter and I said I would do it. My father wasn’t overly happy about that idea, but I stood my ground. That restaurant is my baby, and I felt like I needed to handle it personally.”
“So you told Marco you had been a manager of another branch?” I asked.
He shook his head. “No. He was just told I was transferring from another branch. The manager thing was just a rumor, but I let it go, because Marco seemed more open to talking to me about the goings on of the business when he thought I had been a manager. The plan was to catch Marco red handed and have him prosecuted, and as I said, work out if anyone else was in on his little money laundering scheme. It would have worked too, but then I met you and the whole thing went to shit,” he says with a smile.
I raise an eyebrow. “You thought I was involved?”
Matt shakes his head, laughing. “No. That’s not what I meant at all. It went to shit because once I met you, it compromised me. I could no longer be rational about it, keep the emotion out of it. When it was only money, it was easy to stay rational, cozy up to Marco, get him to trust me. But then I saw the way he treated you and when you told me he had hit on you, I just saw red. I couldn’t keep the emotion out of it after that, and I found it increasingly difficult to even pretend to be friends with Marco. I should have pulled out at that point, but Marco might have gotten suspicious if I was replaced and the next guy, also tried to buddy up to him. I fought my instincts every time I saw that creep. But then he fired James. He claimed it was because he was late, which is a shitty enough reason, but that wasn’t true. James had let something slip, something he had seen Marco do that struck him as odd. I don’t know how Marco found out it was James who had told me where to look for concrete evidence of his crimes, but he knew.”
“And James paid the price,” I comment.
“Actually, he didn’t. He has been given his job back with a nice fat cash bonus as a thank you for helping us weed out Marco.”
“Oh,” I say, surprised.
Matt smiles. “I know you think having money makes someone a monster Callie, but I don’t use people as collateral damage.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to,” Matt says. “I can see how you’re different around me. How talking about money makes you uncomfortable.”
“It’s just… you’re from a different world.”
“You’d be surprised,” Matt
says. “I’ll admit, we had a nice house when I was growing up. Nice cars. I went to a private school. But believe it or not, I was never spoilt. My parents had a healthy attitude about money, and from a young age, they taught us that money can certainly make you comfortable, but it can’t buy you happiness. They also taught us that we have to earn money, not just have it handed to us. Do you know how much allowance I got as a kid?”
I shake my head, waiting for a number that Matt thinks is low and I will think is absurdly high.
“Ten dollars a week,” he says. “And to get that, I had to wash my dad’s cars.”
“Ok, I admit it. You have shocked me… I got the same amount, and I didn’t have to do anything for it.”
“See. Now who’s the spoilt one?” Matt teases me as he gets up suddenly.
I frown.
“More wine,” he says.
I didn’t even realize it but I’ve drank another glass. I should slow down, maybe switch to water, but I don’t object when Matt refills my glass. “So what happened to Marco then? You gave him the choice to leave quietly,” I say.
“Yes. After I learned about what had happened to James, it was the final straw. I had held myself in check because I knew my personal feelings about you and the way Marco treated you were clouding my judgement, but when I felt the same way about the way he treated James, I don’t know. I lost control. I revealed my identity too soon, and the whole thing was a bust. I mean we got rid of Marco, but we lost the chance to prosecute him. My father is not impressed in the least. And it doesn’t help that Seb keeps bringing it up and tormenting me over it.”
“No, I don’t suppose it would,” I say.
I know what’s coming. The most important question. But suddenly, I don’t want to ask it, because I am afraid of the answer. Instead, I ask a question I know I will like the answer to. “How about some of this famous Pavlova then?” I suggest.
“Are you sure you’re ready for it? I mean after eating this, no dessert will ever fully satisfy you again,” Matt warns.
“I’ll take my chances.” I nod.
Matt goes back to the kitchen.
I turn in my chair so I can watch him as he moves around the kitchen. He looks so at home there, so relaxed.
He cuts off two chunks of Pavlova and adds a squirt of cream and some berries to each plate. Finally, he drizzles the whole thing with what I think is raspberry coulis. He comes back to the table.
I turn back around, noting Matt’s grin when he realizes I’ve been watching him. At least, he doesn’t know I was appreciating the view, and he certainly doesn’t know that my pussy is wet beneath the table.
“Ta-da,” he says, putting a plate down in front of me with a flourish.
I pick up my spoon and try the Pavlova. “Ok, you win. It’s definitely the best Pavlova I’ve ever tasted,” I say.
He smiles as he sits down and starts on his own. We eat the dessert in silence, a comfortable enough silence, although there is still a slight tension in the air. Not enough to stop me from appreciating the creamy, crispy goodness of the Pavlova though. I finish the last bite and put my spoon down.
“Would you like some more?” Matt asks as he finishes his own.
“It was lovely, but I couldn’t eat another thing. I’m so stuffed,” I say.
He nods. He looks down at the table for a moment, fiddling with his spoon. Finally, he looks up at me, his face serious. “So what you really want to know is why I kept all of this from you isn’t it? But you’re holding back from asking because you’re afraid I’ll tell you something along the lines of it being none of your business and I couldn’t give a shit if you got hurt.”
“It’s that obvious huh?” I try and fail to smile.
“I promised you honesty, so that’s what you’ll get,” he says. “In the beginning, I couldn’t tell you what was going on. I couldn’t tell anyone. I had no idea who I could trust. It became clear to me very early on that you hated Marco, so you were never under any suspicion if that’s what you’re worried about.”
It’s not, but I don’t tell Matt that. Because then I’ll have to admit that what I’m really worried about is how hard I have fallen for someone who was playing a game with me.
“I wanted to tell you the truth. I almost did so many times. But I couldn’t.”
“Because it would have ruined your investigation?”
“No. I knew I could trust you not to say anything to anyone.”
“So why then?” I prompt.
“Because I was terrified that what happened would happen,” he says, not meeting my eye.
“I don’t understand,” I say.
He looks back up and his eyes hold mine.
I can feel the familiar stirring in my stomach, the throbbing of need in my clit. I blink and try to look away, but I can’t tear my gaze from his.
“I was terrified you’d run a mile and I would lose you,” he says.
“How could you lose something you never had?” I say. “What we had wasn’t real Matt. It was all a lie.”
He reaches over the table and takes my hand in his. “No. It wasn’t. That first night when I caught the train with you, I admit I did it to see if you would say anything I could use. But after that? It was all real. I fell for you Callie, and everything that happened between us, that was all real too.”
I want to believe him. I really do. But how can I? How can I believe anything he says now? The silence stretches out between us. He’s clearly waiting for me to say something, but I don’t know what to say.
“Callie? Say something. Please,” he pleads.
“I — I don’t know what to say,” I admit.
He pulls his hand away from mine.
I have to fight to stop myself from reaching out and grabbing his hand, stopping him from releasing me from his grip.
He stands up and goes to the window, standing looking out at the city, his back to me. “I understand this is a lot to take in. I really am sorry for the mess I caused. If you can’t decide yet whether or not to give me a second chance, how about you give the restaurant a second chance for now? I’ve spoken to HR and your job is there if you still want it.”
“I don’t,” I say. “Like I told you earlier, I refuse to work somewhere where I get a promotion because I’m fucking the boss.”
He turns back to me and I see a flash of anger in his eyes. “It’s not like that Callie. Not on either count. Firstly, I had nothing to do with your promotion. I tried to explain that to you earlier. I didn’t even know you were getting a promotion until you told me that night. Marco had it all worked out with HR. You got that promotion because you deserved it.”
That is perhaps the biggest surprise of the night so far. Marco actually played fair and gave me a promotion I deserved based on my work.
Before I can respond, Matt goes on, “And secondly, if what we were doing was just fucking to you then obviously I had you all wrong Callie. Because in my mind, we were starting something special. Maybe not the conventional way. Maybe not the right way. But I fell for you Callie. And that hasn’t changed.” He comes closer and he takes my hand again and pulls me to my feet.
We stand inches apart.
“I love you Callie,” Matt says. The anger has gone from him now. He sounds different. Pleading almost. “Please give me a second chance and I will spend every day of my life proving to you that this is real.”
My head is screaming at me to walk away from him. But how can I do that? How can I walk away from this man who stands before me, his heart on his sleeve? How can I walk away from the man I have fallen for?
“I know I fucked up, and I know why you might have your doubts about trusting me now. But ask yourself this Callie. If it was all a game, if you were nothing but the means to an end, then why am I still playing? What could I possibly have to gain by lying to you now?”
His words shatter the last remaining thread of doubt I was holding onto. Because he’s right. He wouldn’t have to keep up the charade now. He didn’t
even have to explain any of this to me. He could have just faded back out of my life as easily as he appeared in it.
I still don’t have the words to explain any of this to him, and the thought of getting mixed up with a fucking billionaire scares me more than I care to admit. How long can this really last? How long before he gets sick of his Cinderella girl and trades me in for a society girl?
Matt is done waiting for words. He closes the gap between us, takes my face in his hands and looks into my eyes. “I love you,” he says again.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Callie
His lips brush mine, and the fire bursts through me as I step closer to him, wrapping my arms around him. I promised myself this wouldn’t happen; that I wouldn’t let it happen, no matter what Matt said to me, and yet here it is — happening.
Matt’s kiss deepens, changing from something tender and soft to something more primal. He moves his hands from my face, pushing them into my hair. I run my hands over his back and then I bring them around to the front of his body, stepping back slightly so I can work on his shirt buttons.
He begins to walk me towards the couch and I know what’s coming. I know what we’re going to do, and I know if I let that happen, there’s no going back. It will be like me telling Matt he’s forgiven, that I can give him a second chance. I don’t know if I can, but my head isn’t in control of me anymore. My body has taken over; I am a slave to my desire.
Matt lays me on the couch, climbing between my thighs. I wrap my legs around his waist, clutching him against me, feeling his hard cock against my pussy as he kisses down my neck.
My breathing is hard and fast as Matt’s mouth moves over my neck, bringing each of my nerve endings to life. He moves back up, kissing my mouth again. I can’t wait any longer. I need to feel Matt inside of me. Now. I buck my hips, moving to the side and rolling. Matt and I tumble to the floor and I land straddling his hips. I grin down on him and reach for the bottom of my dress.