“And by grown up time to myself, you mean…?”
“Whatever you want that to be. I’ll pick you up. The only thing you have to do is relax and tell me what you want.”
“What if what I want is a trip to the mall and to spend eight hours in front of a makeup counter?”
“Well, I don’t think the mall will be open for eight hours after you put Griffin to bed, but I could probably convince them to stay open for a couple of extended hours.”
I shook my head. Who was this man and why didn’t he act like anyone else that I knew?
“Dinner sounds good. We’ll arrange more details once we know what’s going on. I’ve been told he might need to have a portable pump for a small while, and go on triple anti-biotic therapy, but since the poison was only in him for a half hour, it might not be that bad. My mother’s wan in her for an hour and a half and it nearly killed her.”
He nodded, face grim. “Well, I’m glad it didn’t come to that. He’s lucky to have you as a mother.”
Was he? Or would a good mother make sure he had connections to his wealthy as sin and considerate father so he could have an amazing future?
“Thank you, Michael. For everything.”
Somewhere in my mind, I knew that what I was doing was foolish. That I needed to stay away from the man so he didn’t figure out my lie. That I didn’t deserve any kindness from him considering the underhanded thing I was doing to him.
And yet, I felt like I couldn’t stop myself. I was drawn to him like a stupid little bug to one of those beautiful lights. I knew that I was going to get electrocuted, that the path I was on was one that only led to pain, and yet I kept right on flying.
Unaware of my thoughts, of course, Michael just pressed a kiss to my forehead. “You better get some sleep yourself. Even the best mother needs to take care of herself.”
“I’ll take care of myself when I’m dead,” I tried to say jokingly, but it just didn’t land. “For now, there are more important things to do.”
Michael caught my chin in his hand and pressed a soft, slow kiss to my lips. “Belle, there are very few things on this Earth that are more important than you.”
And with that, he left me, feeling even more evil than I had before. I’d heard multiple times throughout my life that life was like a play or a book or a movie, and while that made sense, I never imagined that I would be the villain in it.
15
Michael
I pressed the buzzer to the entrance of Belle’s apartment building. It wasn’t exactly the type of place I would live, and I didn’t like the thought of her being there, but I knew it wasn’t my business. Rent in the city was high, and she had a place all on her own while providing for her son. That was something to be proud of, not look down on. Even if -should I have my way- I would have set her up in a nice house in a good school district. Somewhere closer to her work and public transport.
A beat later, the door let out a loud, obtrusive sound and I was able to open it. I headed right towards her door, and by the time I reached it, it was opening.
Wow. She looked good.
Despite my assurances that she could wear what ever she wanted, including baggy sweats with holes and stains in them, Belle was dressed up nicely in a soft looking sweater and a trumpet skirt. They both hugged her figure without looking contracting, and I barely resisted reaching out and touching the soft, inviting fabric.
“You look good,” I said, looking past her to see Stacy reading a book at the kitchen countered. I admired that the babysitter had come back even after the whole stressful hospital thing. It probably helped that I had paid her a cool five hundred to stick around for the whole night. In truth, I felt partially responsible for how bad Griffin got. Maybe if I hadn’t cornered Belle, maybe if I could just keep by damn hands to myself, she would have noticed that her phone was dead and left sooner.
But it was over and done with, so the only way I could go was forward. I offered Belle my arms and she took it, melting into my side as she bid Stacy adieu. I tried to ignore the soft press of her breast into my arm as we walked along, but just like everything about Belle, it was quickly driving me crazy.
But my libido could take a back door. Belle had been eating nothing but hospital food or whatever I ordered to the room on my daily visits. What was important was giving her a home-cooked meal and a night where she could just relax. Griffin was asleep in his bed, Stacy there to watch him, and it was time for her to think about herself.
Especially since he’d recovered enough where he didn’t have to be on a picc line or portable pump. If that had happened, I knew that Belle would have been tethered to his side, and have to miss even more work, lose even more time to take care of herself.
As far as medical emergencies went, I supposed that the little guy’s had gone as best as it possibly could.
We made it to my place without anything crazy happen, Belle mostly telling me about how being released from the hospital went and Griffin’s first full day at home. I listened dutifully, happy to hear the relief layered in her voice.
It was insane all the responsibilities she had. Was it so strange that I wanted to help her a little? To ease that strain?
Probably.
Oh well. We pulled into the private garage attached to the apartment building I rented from. My father had wanted me to live on one of our expansive properties, but they were too far out of the city for my taste. I wanted to be close to the office and all of the charity events that happened in the heart of our metropolis.
So I rented a modest penthouse in an upper end building. I was aware that it was a pretty chunk of change for the average person, but to me the expense was more than worth it.
But judging by Belle’s wide eyes as I drove up, it certainly was more than she was expecting.
“You live here?” she asked, tone reverent.
“Yeah. You know of this place?”
“I read about it in an article online. This is supposed to be one of the most exclusive places in the city. I… I read that some of their upper apartments are as big as a whole floor on my place and a month’s rent there is like a year’s rent at my place.”
Well, when she put it like that, maybe my place was a bit fancier than I had thought.
“I’m sure those articles were exaggerating,” I said, helping her out of my car and leading her towards the key-card elevator that lead to the inside. She watched my every moment with rapt attention, eyes wide.
I wasn’t going to lie, it made me feel powerful, impressive. I tried not to gloat, but it was pretty difficult not to given the way she was looking around in wonder. And we hadn’t even gotten inside yet.
But soon we were in the elevator and she shifted from side to side, as if she was both excited and nervous.
“This was supposed to help you relax, not stress you out,” I said, watching as her eyes darted this way and that.
“’M not stressed,” she answered quickly. “I’m just… this is really cool, but I also don’t want to come across as a dork.”
She was so cute, that once more I was reminded that she was almost a decade younger than me. It was easy to forget, considering how she carried herself and what seemed like the weight of the entire world on her shoulders. But hopefully, I could ease some of that for her.
And I meant that in the most genuine way possible. Sure, I was hoping that maybe she would kiss me again. Maybe sit in my lap and bounce on my dick until she came apart into blissed out little pieces, but all of that was secondary to just wanting to help her relax, if only for a little while.
Perhaps it was stupid for me to do this for a woman I’d only slept with twice and had made it pretty clear that she wasn’t interested in anything beyond that, but when she had explained why she had run, I had understood it.
Sure, it had still kind of smarted, but it made sense. She was young, just twenty-two, and a couple of coworkers had spotted her coming out of my room. I knew that being known as a horizontal climber could serio
usly damage a woman’s career for her entire life. Things like that followed in whispers and accusations, and suddenly promotions were withdrawn, and raises were denied, with vague explanations and no real reason, and yet everyone knew exactly why.
I had known that could happen, and I had still slept with her. It was pretty clear that Belle saw herself as the bad guy, but I had been her superior. Hell, I had owned the company that she worked for. I should have shown more restraint. But it was because of my rash actions that she had to run, had to completely uproot her life and start back at square one.
So yeah, someone could sue me for wanting to make up for it a little. Even if one lowly dinner didn’t seem like any sort of way to make amends.
Finally, the elevator reached my floor and I slid my key-card through the reader again. The elevator doors opened, and I tucked the card back into my wallet before removing my actual physical key from my pant’s pocket.
“This seems like a pretty intense process just to get into where you live,” Belle remarked idly, a smirk about her lips.
“Does it?”
She nodded. “Elevators and card and keys. I guess the rich don’t have it all easy.” Her tone was dry, and it felt good to have her feel comfortable enough to joke with me again. It was also pretty assuring since her sense of humor hadn’t exactly been overflowing in the hospital. Maybe, now that her little boy was home with her, she could recover too.
“You’re right. This three-step process to get into my home definitely makes my life just as difficult as those living below the poverty line.”
She nodded. “Oh yes, I’m sure.”
I chuckled dryly, walking up to the doors that lead to my penthouse and unlocking the door. Pushing it open, I stepped to the side and gestured for Belle to step in.
She did, and I told my lights to turn on. They did, just like they were set up to do, and my home was illuminated in a soft, welcoming glow.
“Oh my God,” Belle murmured, turning in a full circle. “Is this real?”
“I certainly hope so,” I answered, smiling in amusement. “Otherwise I’ve been living in a very convincing simulation and no one’s told me.”
“Ugh, let’s not get into that now. I hear a couple of my coworkers arguing about that theory so often I want to smash my head in anytime I hear about transfer of consciousness.”
“That a… very specific debate to have.”
She shrugged. “We’re mostly all nerds at my work. That’s one of the milder things we all talk about, but that also means it’s what comes up the most often.”
“Well, I promise you that I have no desire to start that particular discourse.”
“Good.” She was still turning, still looking around at everything like she had died and gone to her version of paradise. It certainly stroked my ego, and that feeling only increased when she took a gentle sniff. “It smells amazing in here. Did you already cook? I don’t see anything on the oven. And, by the way, that is a really nice oven.”
My open floorplan allowed for a clear view into the kitchen , which I had made sure to clean just an hour or so earlier. Usually I waited for the maid who came once a week to handle it -after all, I rarely actually used it- but I wanted to make sure everything looked nice for Belle. She deserved that. “I finished before I left and kept it in there to stay warm. Let me get it out while you take a seat.”
“Take a seat?” she asked curiously before she seemed to spot the table I had already laid out.
It wasn’t anything so formal as a dining room table, but it was a nice surface to eat at with a couple of comfortable chairs pulled up to it. While I had decided against the stereotypical tall white candles to set the mood, I did have a couple of smaller, tea-light ones set up on a little mountainous sculpture that I liked.
“You did all this for me?” she asked, swallowing harshly.
I tried hard not to frown. ‘All this?’ I set a table and cleaned up a little. That was… hardly anything. Once more I was struck with wondering who exactly had been in Belle’s life before me and how thoroughly they must have disappointed her in order for her to have a low bar.
But of course I wasn’t going to say that. That wouldn’t serve anything but to embarrass her. So instead I just made an affirmative sound and then headed towards the kitchen.
I knew how to cook, my mother made sure of as much growing up, but I wasn’t exactly what anyone would call an expert. I knew maybe a handful of recipes, but I could do them really well, and I had chosen baked salmon for the night. I figured that it was a pretty expensive cut of meat that she didn’t have much access to.
I also had sautéed some asparagus and made salt potatoes for the side. Nothing too fancy, but something that showed her I had put in effort. Because she deserved effort, and I hoped that she knew that.
I put on my oven mitts and pulled out the pan that I had covered in foil. Quickly, I gave us both some generous portions, then walked over to the table.
Belle looked up at me, mouth opening as if she was going to say something, but I held up a finger. Heading back to the kitchen, I opened up one of my cabinets that had my mini-wine rack in it, and I pulled out one of the best ones I had.
I could feel Belle staring at me, seemingly in shock, and I fluctuated between preening under her respect and wondering about her past. It wasn’t right to revel in just basic human decency, and I worried that maybe she thought far too highly of me for basically doing the bare minimum.
But all of those thoughts, all of those wonderings faded as I sat down at the table with the open bottle, finally settling.
“Michael, this is amazing.”
“It’s just a simple dinner,” I said with a smile. “Trust me, you deserve so much more than this.”
The expression on her face was odd and made my heart ache a little. “How do you know that?”
“I just do,” I answered honestly. “I’ve got a knack about these things.”
“I just… I don’t understand how you can say all that considering what I’ve done.”
There it was. That guilt in her tone. For years I was sure that she didn’t give three cents about me, but there it was, raw in her voice. How long had she been carrying that weight? I wanted to absolve her of it. She had done what any young woman in her situation had a right to do. Point blank.
But I knew that -while words like that were easy to say- they weren’t always easy to hear, so instead I tucked into the food.
“You haven’t done anything wrong, Belle. Trust me.”
She pressed her lips together, as if she wanted to say something else, but she cut herself off and took a bite of the fish.
At that her eyes closed and a look of rapture crossed her face. Now that was an expression that did things for both my ego and libido, and I found myself drinking up every little bit of her expression.
There was something particularly gratifying about watching someone melt at something I’d made. Something that satisfied the savage need within myself to provide and protect. I could feed her. I could make her happy.
Whoa. I was getting far too ahead of myself. This was just a nice dinner for her and then maybe a soak in my tub. Nothing else was guaranteed to happen.
And I most certainly couldn’t be in love with her.
That thought hit me like a ton of bricks.
Love?
I didn’t think that I had ever been in love, far too busy and far too ambitious to ever allow room in my heart for anything else. But whenever I looked at Belle, with her blond hair and her dark, cosmic eyes, it made me want to stay in her presence. To bask in her light like a lizard in the sun.
And sometimes I felt like a lizard compared to her. Small and simple, scuttling around desperately for her attention. But I didn’t resent the feeling. If anything, it made me want to be better. To deserve a bigger slice of her time.
We lapsed into silence for a few moments, just eating and being in the moment. I wanted to talk about something, but this was supposed to be Belle’s
night, so if she just wanted to eat, then we would just eat.
After a bit, she sipped at her wine then tried at conversation again. “This is delicious, really. Man, handsome, wealthy and can cook. Tell me again how you’re single?”
I chuckled lightly. “I’m glad you like it. Otherwise I would have just had to pitch myself off the balcony.”
“Are you humble bragging to me that you have a balcony?”
“I dunno. Is that considered a brag nowadays?”
She rolled her eyes, but somehow it was good natured. “Is it hard to breathe that high up in the clouds?”
“Of course not. The space station I bought with my lunch money.”
“Ah, right. Of course, of course. I should have known.”
That seemed to break the tension between us, and the conversation flowed more smoothly as we finished up. Before I knew it, two hours had passed, and we were sitting at a table with empty plates.
“Would you like some dessert?” I asked, standing and gathering the plates.
“I’m actually not that fond of sweet things. And I’m so full of that delicious fish that I just want the taste to stay in my mouth for a while.”
“Alright, well that’s a compliment if I ever heard one.”
I took the plates to the kitchen and started loading them into the dishwasher I rarely used. I just basked in the pleasant feeling inside of me, all of the stresses of work life, of running my own company, of politics and expenses and everything else, fading away until there was just the moment. I was just a man, and Belle was just a woman, and we were both a couple of humans having a nice meal and that was it.
I was so contented, so satisfied in the moment, that I wasn’t aware that Belle had moved until I turned around and she was right there, looking up at me with so much behind her eyes that for a moment I was breathless.
“Oh, hey. Did you…” I trailed off as she gripped the counter on either side of my hips then slowly slid downward.
For a moment the maneuver was so out of left field that I could only stare down at her dumbly. “Y-you don’t have to,” was all I could say, wanting desperately to feel her mouth on me but hoping that she didn’t feel like she was obligated.
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