Blossom in Winter

by Melanie Martins

  I continue staring intently at the lake, but he keeps studying me.

  “Did you grow up with Alex?” I ask to change the subject.

  Jimmy nearly chokes on his drink. “Me? No. I’m literally the bastard of the family.”

  “Oh, c’mon. Don’t say that.” I playfully hit his chest with the back of my hand.

  “I’m serious. My brother grew up like a prince, living in a palatial estate, even bigger than this one. He was raised by the wonderful Lady Margaret and our father, Lord Hendrik. I was the hidden embarrassment, the mistake of a one-night stand, and grew up in Amsterdam alone with my mom. I’ve never been to the Van Dieren estate. I’m only here because Alex bought it from his relatives.”

  I feel a sudden need to console him. “I’m so sorry to hear that. Family is never easy.”

  “You are right, Petra. It’s not easy. But I’m glad to have made my own path, away from the Van Dierens and their businesses.” I feel like it’s a hint. “Do you know why your parents divorced?”

  I have no idea, no. “Dad told me he simply didn’t love her anymore, and they had different life goals. He also said Mom was an alcoholic at the time and wouldn’t have been able to raise me.”

  He pours some more wine in my empty glass and refills his. I feel his breath so close to my face. Unlike Alex, Jimmy is fully shaven, probably in his early twenties. The scent from his aftershave is also young, sporty, made from a clean and crisp fragrance.

  “I’m happy we met, Petra.”

  “Me too,” I reply, smiling at him.

  I notice how close he is to my lips, fixating on them obsessively. I don’t stare at him for much longer, though; instead, my attention shifts back to the lake. But in a decisive move, he bends just enough to reach them. I wasn’t expecting it, but I let him kiss me. I open my mouth and let his tongue play with mine.

  He gets closer to me.

  I can feel his heartbeat, his fingers caressing my cheek. His kiss is long and passionate, more daring and vibrant than those James used to give me. Jimmy is also older, more experienced—

  A phone starts ringing.

  I feel a twitch of annoyance as he breaks our kiss.

  “I’m sorry…” Jimmy heaves a displeased sigh, reaches down to his pocket, and after seeing who’s calling, decides to answer. “What’s up? I’m here by the lake… Yes, Petra is here too… Okay, we’ll be there soon.” He hangs up. “It was my brother. Your dad’s looking for you. He’d like you to meet some folks before they leave.” He smooches me again on the lips, this time quicker. “Not easy to be you, Ms. Van Gatt.”

  Lost in his blue eyes, I grin. He takes my hand, holding it firmly, and we walk together back through the gardens.

  Jimmy Van Dieren

  While Petra entertains her father’s friends, collecting their business cards, I sneak into the kitchen to throw away the empty bottle and put the glasses in the dishwasher. My mind, however, is far away. I feel strangely attracted to her energy. It’s so bright, so simple and pure. She’s such a mystery. An enigma. A paradox. I feel her so contained and rigid, yet looking for something more. A taste of freedom maybe? Some kind of romantic adventure? Or… like a bud waiting for the right season to bloom into the most beautiful flower. Damn, I grow hard at my own thoughts. Is she still a virgin?

  “Are you drunk?”

  I jump, hearing a voice coming from behind me. “Jeez, bro. You scared me. Of course not. I just drank one bottle with Petra.”

  “Oh, really? So you steal wine now...”

  But I’m not listening; my face is still beaming at the memory of that girl. “You were so right, bro. That chick is so high end and fucking hot; she gave me a boner in two seconds when we kissed. Most likely a virgin. This dusty event was worth it after all,” I praise, clapping him on the back.

  I’m expecting some sort of cheerful reaction, but instead, I get brutally manhandled up against the dishwasher. “Look, you bastard, don’t ever talk about Petra like that again! Are we clear?”

  “Cool down, man. Is she your girlfriend or what? Oh… you like her, don’t you?”

  “Fuck, are you crazy? She is the daughter of my best friend, dumbass. Did you forget I’m her godfather?”

  “So what? You’re not even related. But I must tell you, when we kissed by the lake and I slipped my tongue into her mouth, I bet her pussy got so—”

  Alex grabs my T-shirt and makes a sudden move with his fist. “One more word and I’ll knock you into the middle of next week.”

  “Alright, alright. You’re nuts sometimes. Jeez!”

  He finally releases me, straightens his shoulders, and tries to regain his composure. But his angry glare says otherwise. “Get the fuck out of here.”

  Petra Van Gatt

  Everyone has left except Dad and me. Since we’ve been enjoying a late afternoon tea in Alex’s office, I decide to talk about Jimmy’s invitation, hoping my godfather will be on my side. After all, Jimmy is his brother and he is the one who introduced me to him.

  “Dad? Jimmy is giving a concert followed by a party this Saturday night, and he invited me. May I go?”

  Dad seems uncertain. “What do you think, Alex?”

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea,” he replies sternly. “My brother is a bit… um… wild.”

  “What? He seems perfectly fine. Please, Dad, I’ve never been to a concert before.”

  “Indeed, and I’m very proud the crowd doesn’t scare you.” He pauses, thinking something through. “Alex? Would you mind joining Petra at the concert?”

  But I interject, “No! Dad, I can bring Emma and the girls—they love his songs. We’ll be just fine. Please.”

  “Petra, either Alex comes with you, or no concert and no party,” he snaps.

  Looking at his face, my godfather doesn’t seem too enthusiastic either. “On a Saturday night? Roy, I mean… I’d love to, but I’ve got some commitments.”

  “See? Please, Dad. I can go with the girls. I swear I’ll be fine,” I keep insisting.

  “Sorry, Petra. I want a responsible adult with you. If your godfather can’t go, then I’m afraid you’ll have to cancel.”

  “No! That’s so unfair. Alex, bring your date to the concert, then.”

  “To a teen concert?”

  “To your brother’s concert. You should be more supportive.”

  He rolls his eyes. “Oh God…”

  “Hey, you are the one who introduced me to him, so now you have to endure the consequences.” I know that’s the killing argument.

  Alex sighs loudly. “And I’m already regretting it.”

  I, on the other hand, smile radiantly.

  Chapter 7

  Manhattan, June 1, 2019

  Petra Van Gatt

  I’m like a kid at Christmas as I eagerly look forward to Saturday night. Determined to spend the most amazing and memorable time with Jimmy, I decide to get some fashion advice and call Emma in the morning. I explain to her what happened at Alex’s estate and who I met.

  “You need to look cool and confident, babygirl.”

  We also agree I need a serious makeover for the evening. So Emma takes me to her all-time favorite hair salon—Hairroin, in Herald Square.

  “She has to look older than seventeen. She’s going to a concert and needs to rock,” she explains to her second bestie, Alyssa Sholl—her hair stylist, or “Master Artist” as she calls her. Unsurprisingly, they both look exactly alike. Alyssa also has long dark hair, visible face piercings, and tattoos covering her upper arms and chest.

  Alyssa has decided to dye my hair darker to make me look older. “Jet-black hair on your pale skin with your big blue eyes will blend perfectly.” She also does some wild waves, making my hair look denser and more voluminous.

  A makeup artist jumps over and does a soft evening look—smoky eyes and mascara, but no heavy face contour. He says my skin is already spotless and smooth, with a great jawline, and that a natural foundation will do. He applies a soft blush on my cheeks,
finishing with a matte cherry-red lipstick, which accentuates the blue of my eyes.

  “Oh yeah,” cheers Emma, a cigarette in hand. “Much better! You look good enough to eat.”

  I smile and glance in the mirror. “Wow.” Indeed, I can barely recognize myself. I look so much sexier, older, bolder, more mature. Quite impressive how hair and makeup can boost someone’s confidence like that!

  “You look amazing, Petra. What are you gonna wear?” asks Alyssa.

  Emma takes a puff on her cigarette. “We’re gonna do some shopping now. She needs a new look. Hope you brought your daddy’s credit card.”

  “I should be okay with mine—Dad gives me a monthly allowance. I never spend a dime anyway.”

  We leave the salon. Walking through the streets, I can feel the gazes and indiscreet stares of many men and women as we pass by. I blush, but it feels amazing.

  Emma and I step into Balmain. She says it’s the best brand for the occasion. “Try this white T-shirt. And this leather skirt. Oh, I love this purse. We need ankle boots.”

  “Good afternoon, Ms. Hasenfratz. It’s great to see you. May I help you with something?”

  “Hi, Jeff. Yes, we want a concert outfit. Cool, not overdressed, you know…”

  I try various pairs of shoes, different garments, and finally a range of purses that are handed to me. I gape at the price of each item. One thousand eight-hundred for a pair of shoes! Four hundred for the T-shirt! While I’ve got enough in my bank account, I’m definitely not used to such high-end shopping.

  “What about lingerie? What are you gonna wear?”

  I gasp at her question. Emma, I have no intention of taking my clothes off after just exchanging some kisses. “I don’t know… Why? Does it matter?”

  “Oh, babygirl, you are unbelievable. Of course it does. You need a black lace set, and a push-up bra for sure. Let’s hurry up!”

  While I wanted to attend the concert alone with the girls, my dad has imposed his own rules and I’ll have to go with my godfather instead. As a “responsible adult,” he must pick me up and drop me off at home no later than one thirty a.m. These are the non-negotiable conditions for me to be able to go. Oh, Alexander’s just texted. He’s downstairs waiting for me, punctual as always. I take one last look in the mirror before leaving. I’ve opted for a white Balmain T-shirt, a black leather skirt, black sheer thigh-high stockings, and a pair of heeled ankle boots—not my usual style, to say the least. But hey, it’s not usual for me to attend a concert either.

  Crossing the hallway of my building, I feel the doorman staring at me discreetly. “Have a great evening, Ms. Van Gatt,” I hear as I walk outside.

  Alex’s leaning against his car, just like last time. He looks young and effortless in a smoky black Henley shirt with four buttons all closed, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a three-strand brown bracelet on his left wrist, and light-gray jeans. Well, at least he doesn’t need Emma to know how to dress for a concert.

  “So, where is your date?” I tease.

  His eyes dart in my direction, checking me out from top to bottom. I’m expecting some sort of reaction, a compliment maybe, but nothing. “I saw her yesterday so I could be free this evening. Shall we?” he asks, opening my door.

  “She’s too old to enjoy a pop concert?”

  His eyes hold a glint of humor, playing with the corners of his mouth. “Just in case you didn’t realize, little Petra, it’s a teen concert.”

  The “teen” concert is playing at Terminal 5—a live music venue not too far away. I can already see the streets full of people waiting to get in. Oh God. My heartbeat quickens and my stomach knots. What if I have to be squeezed in among the crowd? Today I took a pill to prevent a panic attack, but even so, it’s hard not to freak out.

  Alex notices it. “Don’t worry,” he reassures, smiling. “My brother managed to get us a private box, there’ll be no one else.”

  I heave a sigh of relief.

  The box is on the third floor and looks directly onto the stage. It can easily hold thirty people, but tonight we’re the only ones occupying it. We find a low table with a bottle of champagne, two flutes, a leather sofa, and a greeting card with a message inside: Hope you will enjoy. Xx, Jimmy.

  I smile tenderly.

  A security guard knocks on the door.

  “Petra? Jimmy would like to see you before the concert starts. May I escort you backstage?”

  I glow with excitement. “Of course. I’m coming.”

  But Alex reaches out and holds my wrist before I can do so. I raise an eyebrow. “Be careful with him.”

  Dear Lord! Just like his voice, his face is harsh, stern, serious... Anyway, I couldn’t care less—Jimmy’s waiting for me.

  The security escorts me backstage, where Jimmy and his musicians are getting ready. I can hear the crowd outside screaming as their excitement grows. Jeez! I’m glad to be in a private box upstairs. The area backstage is quite dark, and with such a big crew moving around, it’s hard to find him. I look a bit further and finally my face beams with joy, recognizing his figure. Jimmy looks sexier than ever—dark ripped skinny jeans, ankle boots, and a black V-neck T-shirt.

  I jog over to where he’s standing and wrap my arms around his neck. “Hi, Jimmy!”

  “Hey!” he shouts, before kissing me passionately. His hands are finally free to touch my hips. When I open my eyes again, I find him smiling at me. “You look fucking hot,” he says bluntly.

  My face goes red at his words. I glance briefly down, smiling, and tuck some hair behind my ear. Looks like all those hours getting ready were worth it. “Good luck at your concert.”

  “You know,” he swallows hard, “I’ve been thinking about you since we met…” Jimmy reaches down, takes my hand, and presses it firmly against his boner—already arching hard into my palm. I gasp at the feel of him but keep my hand still. “I’m so glad you came.”

  I smile at him, but suddenly remember that I didn’t come alone, and my smile turns into a loud rush of breath. “Yeah, well, I had to bring your brother…”

  He bursts into laughter. “We’ll manage to distract him at the party, don’t worry.” He bends down slightly to my ear. “I want to be totally alone with you,” he whispers.

  I feel my heartbeat pounding faster at every word. “Me too,” I breathe, before kissing him again.

  “Look, after the concert, go straight to the Four Seasons and wait for me in the lobby, alright?”

  I nod.

  “Jimmy, we’re ready to go!” informs one of the stage managers.

  “I have to go. I hope you enjoy.”

  “I’m sure I will.” I smooch him on his lips once more, our hands entwined. When we reopen our eyes, I murmur a quick “Good luck” and walk away. He takes a deep breath, staring at me until I reach the door and exit.

  On my way back to the box, all I can think about is him—his smile, his touch, his lips, his kisses, his smell… ahhh. I let out a tender breath. After my bad experience with James, I’m so happy to have met Jimmy, to be here at his concert. My cheeks flush as I picture what we’ll be doing at the party afterward. But my grin fades away at the sight of my godfather—he is still here waiting for me. I roll my eyes. Why can’t he just go home? Maybe I can persuade him to leave early.

  “So, how was it?” he asks with amusement, looking at my sweaty pink face.

  With my mind still wandering, I let out a deep sigh. “Your brother is sooo lovely.”

  His eyes widen in surprise. “Yeah, right. I bet,” he sniggers, head shaking, and looks again at the twinkle in my eye. “That’s so cute. Look at you. My little goddaughter has a crush.”

  “What’s so funny? Stop it!” I slap his stomach with the back of my hand, hurting myself even more than I do him. I didn’t expect it to be that hard—harder than Jimmy’s boner. I bite my lip to contain the pain, but my grimace gives it away.

  Alex starts laughing even harder. “Did my abs hurt you, little Petra?”

  Fuck off! But I s
ay, “Stop it!” and turn my back on him. I don’t want him to notice how much I’m blushing, yet I can feel his amused gaze on me. Fortunately, the lights turn off and an announcer greets the public. Suspense grows as the stage fills with smoke and fog. The crowd loves it, screaming and whistling for more. Finally, the first musicians emerge from the darkness; everyone yells and claps. They start to play their instruments, the beginning of the first song. Flashlights go on and off around the venue, the noise deafening.

  All of a sudden, Jimmy runs onto the stage, followed by white projectors. He grasps his microphone, waits for the right chord, and starts singing. I grin, proud to see him, my eyes sparkling. And just like the crowd, I cheer, scream, and clap as hard as I can. Alex smiles too. But I’m not sure if it’s because of his brother, or something else.

  “Y’all having a good time?” shouts Jimmy.

  The crowd is electrified.

  “I want to dedicate my next song to a very special girl I’ve met recently.” He looks up at the box, staring at me.

  “Oh God,” Alex and I say at the same time.

  “Petra.” Jimmy points his index finger at me. “This song is for you.” He closes his eyes and starts crooning passionately. The crowd is yelling, barely containing their excitement as they recognize the famous song, and the musicians start to play. It’s a romantic melody; the lyrics melt every young soul in the venue. I’m speechless, baffled, my eyes brighter than ever. It’s so hard to even believe it! Is Jimmy really singing for me? Am I dreaming?

  The two big screens in front of the stage broadcast live. On the screen, I can see girls sobbing and singing with him. But unlike them, I don’t know the lyrics to keep up. Nevertheless, I cherish every word and every moment he’s singing. He’s so talented! This song’s so dramatic that I nearly cry at the last refrain. “I’ve tried to see, I’ve tried to cure, cure me of you, but I’m blind, blind from your looove. Oh baby, I know, I’ve tried to cure myself, but all I do is lose my mind.”