by Krista Lakes
Charlotte peeked one eye up over her forearm and glared at the plate. “I hate food.”
“Eat it,” Bastian coaxed. “It will make you feel better.”
With a pained expression, she took a tiny bite of egg and then put her head back on the table. Bastian and I made eye contact and I couldn't help but giggle. Poor Charlotte. She was absolutely miserable.
“Smells good down here,” Dr. Verner announced, entering the kitchen. His dress shirt, this time a light green, was wrinkled, but he looked remarkably awake for having slept in a chair all night. His short brown hair stuck up at odd angles, but had damp spots from where he had obviously tried to smooth it down.
Just seeing him made me think of my father. Worry hit me like a physical punch in the stomach. “How is he?”
“Still sleeping,” Dr. Verner answered, going to the coffee pot and getting himself a cup. “Our flight is scheduled for noon and I'd like him to rest as much as possible until then. We have a busy day once we get to the hospital.”
I swallowed hard against the growing tightness in my chest. I felt like a terrible daughter for not going with them. Seeing my face, Bastian reached across the table and squeezed my hand. The butterflies that lived in my stomach didn't know whether to continue being worried about Dad, or if they should jump and dance because Bastian touched me.
“Thank you, Dr. Verner. I appreciate you taking care of him,” I whispered. I looked up and into Bastian's gray eyes. “And Bastian, I don't know how we'll ever repay you.”
“No need,” he assured me, giving my hand a gentle squeeze before letting go.
“What about me?” Charlotte asked, her words muffled as her head was still wrapped in her arms.
“Thank you for being such a good friend, Charlotte,” I told her, patting her elbow. She made a noise that sounded happy. It made me smile and shake my head.
“Would you like some eggs, Dr. Verner?” I asked, looking at Charlotte's rapidly cooling plate. “I made too many and it doesn't look like Charlotte's going to eat hers.”
“I'd love some. And she should eat them.” Dr. Verner sat down in the empty chair beside me. “The cysteine in the eggs breaks down acetaldehyde, the yucky headache-causing chemical that’s left over when the liver breaks down whatever you had last night.”
Charlotte looked up. “Give me the eggs, Ava. Give me all the eggs.”
I laughed and pushed her plate toward her before getting up to put the extra eggs on a plate for Dr. Verner. He attacked them like a starving man, leaving Charlotte holding her fork above her own plate and staring at it like she was preparing for battle.
“These are wonderful,” Dr. Verner congratulated me, snarfing down the eggs.
“Agreed,” Bastian added. I was glad to see his plate was empty. “Best eggs I've had in a long time.”
I blushed slightly at the compliment. I took a bite myself and decided that they were pretty good. Maybe not my best batch ever, but pretty close. Charlotte's phone started to ring, vibrating and skittering along the wooden table. She grabbed it and just slid it over to Bastian stuffing a bite of eggs into her mouth before she could think about it.
Bastian rolled his eyes, but answered the phone. “This is Bastian. Hi Leo... yeah, she's alive. Your favorite shirt, huh?” He stood up and covered the phone with his hand. “Please excuse me.”
The room felt empty despite being full of people when he left. Dr. Verner stood and put his empty plate in the sink before coming back over to me and putting his hand on my shoulder. “I'm going to go get everything ready for our flight. If you need anything, let me know.”
“Thank you, doctor,” I replied, pushing the eggs around on my plate. I knew I needed to eat, but I just wasn't hungry anymore. He patted my shoulder gently before heading out the door and leaving me with Charlotte.
Her head was back on the table and she wasn't moving. I poked her arm and she started to snore. I shook my head and made sure her hair was pulled back out of her face before taking her plate to the sink. At least she had managed to keep the two bites of eggs down.
I sat down at the table again, knowing I needed to finish my breakfast and get a cup of coffee in me so I could get going. I had a long day ahead of me, and if Charlotte could at least get her eggs down, so could I.
Chapter 14
The house was eerily quiet as I tiptoed down the empty hall. I could still see as moonlight flooded the windows with her mystic light, but it still felt dark and lonesome. I paused by the room that had been my fathers and stopped to peek inside. There was nothing of his left and the bed was made back into magazine perfection.
I already missed my dad. I had gone with him to the airport and said my goodbyes, but I felt like the worst daughter in the world. My father was going to the hospital because his heart didn't work properly, yet I was staying in the Caribbean at a mansion. It didn't feel right, yet I knew it was how things had to be. I had to finish this project, or we would never be able to pay his medical bills and we would lose the business.
I sighed, going to the window. The waves lapped at the moonlit shore in regular intervals, reminding me of a creature breathing. I thought about going outside, but a glass of wine sounded better. I had left a bottle down in the kitchen from dinner, and now it was calling my name.
The kitchen was dark. Everyone was in bed except for me. I couldn't sleep, but my brain refused to concentrate on work. I had worked since returning from the airport until Charlotte forced me to eat something. She was the one who had given me the wine. I had worked after dinner, but now that it was long past bed time, I couldn't work anymore.
My brain was just too full.
My phone chirped with an email update as I poured a large glass of the dark red liquid. While I didn't use my data or phone plan, the mansion had wifi. Dr. Verner sent me his hourly email updates, though now they were from my dad's hospital nurse and just read, Fast asleep or snoring softly. I would have to thank his nurse as one message had read: I came in to check his vitals and and he called me Jackie. Jackie is a lucky lady. At least I knew good people were taking care of him.
I swirled the wine around in the glass, watching it trickle back down with slow, long legs. I couldn't sit still, even in the warm kitchen, so I decided to explore the mansion on my own.
The wood floors were cool on my bare feet. The house felt different at night, like the paintings were waiting for me to turn my back so they could come alive. It wasn't creepy so much as I felt like I didn't belong. It didn't help that so many of them were overly lavish and displayed in garish frames that accentuated their worth rather than their beauty.
I walked up the stairs to the second floor, and banged my hip against a gilded table. I sighed and gazed down the second floor hallway at gilded frames and overly ornate furniture. Everything in this house was designed to proclaim wealth, but from what I had seen of Bastian and Charlotte, neither cared about flaunting their money. They should be living in something full of bamboo furniture and open windows. There was too much finery and not enough warmth for them here.
I turned and found myself standing in front of Bastian's study doors.
I was curious. What did it look like inside? Was it opulent and rich like the walls of the mansion, or warm and homey like the kitchen? I felt like if I could see how he decorated his living space, I would have some insight into him. I knew so little about him, but I wanted to know more with a desperation that surprised me.
I set my empty wine glass on an overly ornate hallway table and listened for any noise in the study. If I heard him inside, I could just knock and perhaps he would let me in. I rather liked the idea of being invited in.
Without thinking, I tried the door handle. It swung open on silent hinges and I stared after it with an open mouth. Standing in the hallway, I heard a loud thud come from inside, as if something heavy had been dropped.
I swallowed hard and justified going inside. What if he had fallen like my dad?
Just past the doors, I could hear the
shower running and Bastian cursing at his shampoo bottle. I nearly giggled before catching myself. The wine was making me bold and careless, but it was still funny to hear him swear at the bottle.
The idea of Bastian wet and soapy, and totally naked, made my insides flutter and the space between my legs tighten. A naughty part of me wanted to go and take a peek, just a glimpse, but I pushed it down. I was already someplace I shouldn't be. No need to push it, no matter how much I wanted to see his muscles dripping with soap.
I knew I should leave, but I took a moment and looked around the office. It was a large room, as all the rooms in the mansion were, but it didn't feel overwhelming. Every light was on and the walls were painted a warm butter yellow that made it almost feel like daytime. A large, heavy wooden desk sat in the corner with a computer and a comfortable-looking leather chair. Nothing was antique or gilded in the entire room. Every piece of furniture was expensive only because it was well-made. He had chosen things that utilized function over form.
A big leather couch sat under the wide open window. The curtains billowed in the breeze off the ocean, and I could imagine laying on that couch and reading for hours. Looking closer, I realized that the blanket from this morning was draped on the arm. It had been him.
Smiling, I looked at the pictures on his wall. There was no artwork and for the most part, the walls were bare, but above his desk was a cork board filled with smiling people. Most of them were of him and Charlotte in various places around the world. The Great Wall of China, The Eiffel Tower, the Pyramids, Stonehenge, The Taj Mahal and dozens of others. He smiled in all of them.
In the center was a long picture with a row of men in dark suits all smiling and laughing with a beautiful bride at the end of the line. Looking closer, I recognized the woman as Emma Saunders, the wife of oil baron Jack Saunders. Faces popped out at me from Forbes magazine's most wealthy as I looked down the line. That must have been a crazy wedding.
Other than one small picture of him, Charlotte and a kind looking couple, there were no pictures of family or childhood. Every picture was college aged or above. I even spotted several of him with Leo and another man that must be Gabriel, but nothing that hinted at his life before starting his company.
Moving away from the wall, I saw one last picture. It was on his desk in a simple golden frame that couldn't have cost more than a couple of dollars. It was a picture of him and Charlotte, sitting on a boat. The sun was in his face but he was smiling just like he had the other morning, looking like he might burst into laughter at any moment. I reached out a finger to stroke his face, wishing I could see him like that.
“What the hell are you doing in here?” An angry growl came from behind me. I spun to see Bastian standing in the doorway to the bathroom. He was dripping wet with just a precarious towel wrapped around his waist. He was even more glorious than I had imagined.
That's when I realized the water had stopped.
He stepped forward and into the light of the room. Scars ravaged his body. Long gashes ran across his arms and chest before wrapping around his back to disappear beneath the towel. The scar on his cheek was just part of a larger series of scars covering his body. I could see now why he wore long sleeves and pants all the time.
Rage burned red in his gray-blue eyes. I couldn't look away from his body, not because of the scars, but because of the way his muscles tightened and flexed and how the towel hid almost nothing. Pecs to die for, six pack abs and a strong V that pointed to his towel all had me drooling.
“I... I... heard a thud... and...” I stammered, unable to take my eyes from the towel. The knot was loose and was about to fall apart at any moment.
I took a step back, running into his heavy desk. It hurt enough that I looked up from his towel and into his extremely angry face. He radiated a rage that I didn't know was possible in a human being. He had seemed so calm and in control that I barely recognized him. All thoughts of the towel disappeared at his rage.
“Get out.” His voice was thick with fury and his eyes flashed lightning. “GET OUT!”
I ran.
I didn't stop in the hallway. I didn't stop on the stairs. Even in the foyer, I could hear him cursing. The whole house vibrated with his anger and I ran out to the beach to try and escape it.
Tears stung at my eyes as my feet hit the sand. What had I done? Why didn't I just leave things well enough alone? He had one request of me, not to go in the study, and I had blatantly disregarded it. I was the worst kind of person and he had every right to be furious with me. Hell, I was furious with me.
I ran along the cold, wet sand, letting the full moon light my path. I followed the curve of the cove, up the hill to another beach until I finally came to a rock outcropping that I couldn't get past, at least not in bare feet. There I collapsed into one of the larger rocks, my calves aching and twitching like rubber bands. I gasped for breath, and not just from the running. Falling to my knees, I sobbed into the sand.
It was too much. All of it was just too much. All the aches, the worry, the tension, the hopeless dreams came tumbling down on me. Between my father, Chad's betrayal, the lack of direction in my life, and now the rage in Bastian's eyes, I just lost it. It was all just too much to bare.
I sat and cried into the night. It felt good to finally let it all out. I cried until I couldn't breathe and then I just gasped at the air like a fish out of water. Giant sobs racked my body, shuddering cries that ached down through my toes. But it was what I needed.
I wasn't sure how long I cried, but after a while, the tears dried and I stared out at the ocean. I was finally empty. I had held in my emotions for so long that they had overwhelmed me and now I didn't know what to do.
I heard footsteps behind me, but I didn't turn around. I knew who they belonged to. The steps paused and then came closer.
Bastian sat cautiously beside me, close enough that I could feel his presence but far enough away to give me distance. He stared out at the moonlit water for a moment before offering me a hanky. It was just a simple white cotton square of fabric, but it smelled like him. It was more than I deserved.
Holding on to his hanky, I held my breath for as long as I could before finally releasing it. My lungs ached and my cheeks were still wet.
“I'm sorry,” I said quietly. I didn't look over at him. “I didn't mean to pry.”
He let out a long slow breath.
“I let my temper get the best of me,” he replied after a long moment.
“I shouldn't have been in there.” I shook my head, looking only at the white hanky in my hands. “I always seem to be walking into rooms that I shouldn't.”
A breeze rolled over us from off the ocean. I shivered, not just because the breeze was cool for the Caribbean, but from emotional exhaustion as well.
“Come here,” Bastian commanded, his arms wrapping around me, holding me close to his heart and warming me up. I leaned my head against his shoulder, and he pressed his cheek into the top of my head. He was so warm and strong that I clung to him like a child. I felt completely safe with him holding me, like the world could crumble into a million pieces, but with him holding me, I would be safe.
“I liked the pictures above your desk,” I said quietly after a moment. I figured there was no reason to hide what I had done now. I wanted to ask him about the scars, but given that he was now wearing pants and a long-sleeved t-shirt, they obviously were something he didn't want people knowing about.
I felt his lips curl into a smile above my hair. “I like them, too.”
“I recognized Leo in some of them. Is the man in the others Gabriel?” I felt my muscles finally relaxing. “The three of you look close.”
I felt him nod and he began to stroke my hair. “Yes, all the pictures on my wall are of my family.” He shifted his weight, getting more comfortable. “After my parent's car accident, I didn't have anyone. My parents didn't even have wills made up. I went into the foster system. I had a decent family, but they weren't mine. Charlotte was the closest
thing to family I had until Gabe moved in next door. I spent more time at Gabe's house than I did at my foster's. Then we met Leo our freshmen year of college.”
“What school did you go to?” I asked. He smelled so good, especially this close. Clean yet masculine. “Billionaire Harvard or Billionaire Yale?”
“Neither. I went to a state school I had a partial scholarship, but I still had to work full time to pay it off.” He shifted his back against the rock, finding a more comfortable position. “I wasn't a billionaire then.”
“You said you met Leo in college? Is that where you guys came up with your business?” I asked, snuggling deeper into his arms. He was so warm that I never wanted to leave.
“Just after graduation is when we came up with the idea. We all had degrees in business but no ideas on how to use them.” He shrugged. “So we made our own. Charlotte helped.”
I thought of Charlotte trying to be in the same room as Leo to start a business. I wondered if she had even been able to get three words out. “You know Charlotte's crazy about Leo, right?”
“I know.” He chuckled, the warm sound vibrating through his chest and into mine. “He's actually crazy about her, too. Why do you think he flew out so early? They've been circling each other like scared cats for years now.”
“And then she puked on him. Poor Charlotte,” I said softly into his chest.
“I have a feeling they'll end up all right in the end,” he assured me. “You can't find anyone more loyal than Leo.”
I shivered again as the cool breeze came off the water. It was well past midnight, and I was exhausted. Bastian pulled me in closer, rubbing his palms against my bare arms to warm me up. I was glad he didn't ask me to go in. I liked it better out here in his arms.
“How's your dad doing?” he asked. I knew he suspected it was part of why I was so upset.
“He's fine,” I replied. “They're running tests. I started looking up what each one does, but I stopped when each one scared me more.”
He hugged me tighter. “I'm sorry.”