by Maia Star
But my heart wasn’t ready to listen to sense like that. I wanted her, and no matter how childish the idea of love at first sight seemed to me, particularly here where I knew virtually nothing about her other than what she looked like and that she worked at the Sunshine Bakery, the logical part of my brain couldn’t manage to take hold.
Emotions can be very powerful. Combine them with a little bit of hope and rationality doesn’t stand a chance.
There was a knock at the door.
“Just a moment,” I called.
I looked at myself in the mirror by the front door. You can do this, Glenn, I told myself. You didn’t just pick her, she picked you. The attraction is mutual.
And right when that thought began to comfort me, another one came from out of nowhere: Don’t fuck it up.
I turned toward the door and put my hand on the lock. Here goes nothing, I thought.
I opened the door, and she stood there, full of a beautiful sadness, as if on the verge of crying. When she saw my face, she lit up like a candle, a bright smile taking over the lower half of her face.
“Come on in,” I said. “Welcome to my apartment. I’m sorry, I mean, welcome to our apartment.”
“We’re not married yet,” she said.
“No, not yet.”
She walked inside, carrying a small backpack. “Can I take that?” I asked.
She didn’t respond. Instead, she looked around at the living area, with the chandelier hanging from the ceiling, overlooking the sectional couch, leading to the window and balcony with a view of the entire city.
“It’s beautiful,” she said.
“Thank you,” I said, but it was clear she wasn’t paying attention to me at the moment.
She removed her shoes and walked toward the living area, running her hand over the couch.
“That’s faux leather,” I said. “It looks and feels real, but it’s not.”
“Uh-huh,” she said, still in a daze, walking straight for the balcony. She reached the sliding glass door. “May I?” she asked.
“By all means.”
She slid the door open, and I saw her close her eyes as she took a step forward, feeling the warm summer air on her face and taking in the sound of the traffic and rain all around her.
I followed her out and stood behind her.
“I always wished I could have a view overlooking the Golden Gate,” I said, “but…”
“Shh,” she said.
We stood together, saying nothing and listening to the city noises for what must have been a minute or two. She opened her eyes and turned to me.
“Is this a dream?”
I shook my head. “You’re a dream,” I said. “This is real.”
My body moved forward, seemingly independent of my control, as if I was a puppet. The moment took hold of me and I leaned into her, kissing her on the mouth, feeling her soft lips on mine.
I gently released myself from the kiss. “I’m sorry,” I said.
“Don’t be.”
“It just felt right.”
She looked at me with her piercing emerald eyes. “Yes,” she said. “It did.”
I showed her around the apartment and took her to her room, where she put down her bag.
“When are you planning to get the rest of your stuff?” I asked.
“I’m not.”
“This is everything?”
“I try to live a spartan existence.”
“Oh,” I said.
She looked around the room, “But I could get used to this.”
“I was thinking we could go to City Hall tomorrow and take care of the wedding. Do you have something you could wear?”
She looked at her backpack and shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
I checked the time: seven-o-five. “Stores are still open if you feel like going out.”
“I…umm…I…”
“It’s fine if you don’t,” I said.
“No, that’s not it. I don’t want to presume…”
“Presume what?”
She was clearly uncomfortable about something but was having a difficult time getting the words out.
She sighed. “This isn’t my life, Glenn. My life isn’t like this. I’m not rich or classy. I work in a bakery for minimum wage.”
“You don’t like it?”
“No, I mean, I don’t know how to live like this. I’ve been here for ten minutes, and I already feel like I’m a different person. This isn’t who I am.”
“So you don’t want this?”
“Glenn, I keep on thinking I’m going to wake up. I feel like I’m a balloon and any second now, it’s going to pop. This is too good to be true. But you’re telling me you want to go out and have me buy fancy clothes. I can’t afford them.”
I laughed. “I’d be paying for them.”
“I can’t accept that.”
I went toward the window of the room. “Let me show you something, Amelia.” I opened the window.
“Do you see this watch?” I said, showing her my wrist. “This is an eighty-thousand-dollar watch.”
In one motion, I took the watch off my wrist and tossed it out the window.
“My father had a net worth of over a hundred billion, and that’s just what’s on record. With the money he left me, I could buy ten of those watches every day for the rest of my life and still be one of the richest men in America.”
I gestured toward the guest bed. “Those sheets are Merino wool woven with gold. They cost well over a thousand dollars. I’m not telling you this to brag. I’m telling you this to let you know that money is not something you need to worry about with me. There is literally nothing that I can’t buy you with the amount of money my family has. You want a space ship? It’s yours. A private island? Just ask. A fancy dress to wear to our wedding? That’s nothing.”
Her eyes were stars, and her mouth was agape.
“So tell me, my dear, would you like to go shopping?”
“Yes, please.”
Chapter Six
Amelia
I laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep from the emotions jumping around in my head. I was overjoyed about finally getting away from Xavier and thankful for Glenn for giving me a dream apartment to stay in, while also mad at him for being such a shallow, money-focused man-child, but also somewhat understanding because what else did he know? The truth was, there was a charm to him when he wasn’t talking about money. He was sexy as all hell, with his dark complexion and piercing eyes, and I wanted to give myself to him, but also felt like I would somehow be violating my core principles by doing so.
At the same time, didn’t I owe myself a little bit of fun after finally getting myself out of the worst situation I’d ever found myself in? A little reward for finally asserting myself?
I knew he didn’t love me. How could he? He barely even knew me. And, for all of Xavier’s issues, he did love me. He was shit at showing it and, for that matter, refused to show any emotion other than anger, but I knew, deep down, that he loved me, and that’s why I feared going back to the apartment. I knew he would punish me for getting out of there, and while that’s not a healthy display of love at all, I understood that that’s what it was and where it came from.
I don’t know why I couldn’t just tell Glenn about Xavier. I don’t know why I made up the lie about me quitting my job. Although, now that I was thinking about it, it wasn’t really a lie because I knew I couldn’t show up for work any time in the near future because then Xavier would know where to find me.
I should call them to let them know that I wasn’t coming in. I felt bad that I couldn’t give them a full two-weeks’ notice, like I was somehow doing something wrong. They were counting on me to be there.
But that wasn’t my problem. Still, I thought I should at least leave them a message to give them a heads up.
I pulled out my phone and remembered that the battery had died. Glenn told me to ask for anything if I needed it, but I didn’t want to
reach out to him tonight. I wanted to be alone. And it was probably good for me to get a little time away from my phone.
Still, I longed for anything to occupy my brain other than the thoughts that I had bouncing around in it. There weren’t any books in the room, nor was there a television. I got up, opened the window, and took in the city.
I looked down at all the ants driving their cars, each one with their own story. Each one with their own worries and loves and things to look forward to. I wondered how many people I was looking at. Maybe some of them were celebrating their birthday. Or the birthday of a loved one. Maybe some had just gotten married. Others celebrated their divorce. Some who had close friends or relatives die and others who had witnessed the birth of their first child. It was all out there within my view, but the details were hidden from me.
I thought back to Xavier, wondering where he was or what he was doing. Part of me worried about him. He was, no doubt, furious at me. Maybe he punched a hole in the wall. That sounded like the kind of thing he might do. I wouldn’t be surprised to hear he had knocked the door down, just as he’d promised. Sometimes his inner wolf took over and there was nothing he could do to control it. It really wasn’t his fault.
Maybe he was wandering the city looking for me. But it didn’t matter. I felt safe here in Glenn’s apartment. And I felt safe with Glenn. I didn’t know if he’d ever been in a fight in his life, but I felt that he could protect me and that he would protect me.
Or, more likely, he would pay someone to do it for him.
I shut the window and laid back down on the bed. My eyes felt heavy, even as my mind raced. I realized that the thing I despised the most about Glenn, perhaps the only thing I had learned about him that I didn’t like, was how rich he was. And yet, right now, the security that money provided was exactly what I needed. Yes, this was a job, of sorts, but it was also a year where I didn’t need to worry about putting in forty hours of exhausting work a week. I didn’t want to be in that bakery forever and, if nothing else, a year with Glenn would help me figure out exactly what I wanted to do with my life.
Somewhere around that thought, I fell into a dreamless sleep.
The next morning, I walked out of the bedroom and found Glenn in the kitchen dicing onions and garlic on a cutting board. Or at least attempting to. He saw me and blushed.
“I was hoping to surprise you,” he said. “Breakfast in bed.”
“You surprised me,” I said. “I didn’t realize you could cook.”
“I don’t know if I can or not.” He showed me his phone; there was a video of a chef cutting up vegetables. “I’m learning,” he said.
“All the same, I’m impressed. What are you making?”
“A scramble.”
“With eggs?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
“From a chicken?”
He stopped what he was doing. “Right,” he said. “Vegan.”
“No, it’s okay,” I said. “I’ll eat them.”
“Are you sure?”
I nodded. I wasn’t a strict vegan. When I cooked for myself or ordered at restaurants, I avoided animal-based products, but if someone else was kind enough to cook for me, I usually ate it. “Yeah,” I said. “I think it’s sweet of you.”
“I was going to add sausage. Good thing I didn’t.”
“Good thing,” I said. “It could use a little more flavor, though. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
I went to the fridge and pulled out a green pepper and a potato, along with some spinach. It wasn’t much, but it’d at least add a little color to the meal.
I took the knife from him. “Here, let me help,” I said. “If you’re going to dice the vegetables, you need to do it with confidence. Like this.” I cut through them quickly. “Obviously, you don’t want to cut yourself, but you can’t be afraid of cutting yourself, either.”
I handed him back the knife and he tried to replicate what I did. It was still a bit slow and uncertain, but it was an improvement. “Better,” I said. “You just need to practice.”
“Look, Amelia,” he said, “I’ve been thinking about what you said last night and the way you see me. I don’t want to be that person.”
He finished with the vegetables and started the flame on the stove.
“I’m sure you’re not as bad as I made it sound.”
“It was more true than not,” he said. “But today marks the start of a brand new me.” He took an egg and cracked it on the side of a pan, then pulled it apart, letting pieces of the shell fall in along with the yolk.
I took the next egg. “One hand,” I said. “It’s a flick of the wrist.” I hit the egg against the side of the pan and, in one motion, let the white and yolk flow out into the pan. “No shell.”
He tried it with the next egg. Yolk got all over his hand, and I laughed.
“It takes a little practice. I didn’t get it the first time I tried either.”
“Oh, okay,” he said, “then I don’t feel so bad.”
I didn’t get it the first time because I was seven years old, but he didn’t need to know that.
“Four eggs good?”
“That should be fine,” I said.
He tried the last one using the same wrist flicking method, yolk still getting on his hands.
“That was a little better,” I said.
“You’re patronizing me.”
“I’m just happy you’re trying.”
He nodded, turning up the flame. “This is the new me, and I want you to hold me to it. I want to not be so reliant on other people and stop paying them to do things for me that I can do on my own.”
“It’s a good start, and I’m happy that you’re willing to do this for me.”
He got a wooden spoon and started scrambling the eggs. I took the chopping board and emptied the vegetables into the pan.
“It’s looking good,” I said.
“Yeah, it’s not so hard, is it?”
“Not at all.”
As we finished eating the breakfast we made together, Glenn asked what I wanted to do today.
“I thought we were getting married,” I said.
“You don’t have a dress.”
“We can just go to City Hall and do it there. It doesn’t need to be a huge thing. Unless that’s what you want.”
He shook his head. “Whatever you want is fine.”
“I signed an agreement saying I would marry you, and I don’t get paid if I don’t. If you want someone to dote on you and bat their pretty little eyes, then you picked the wrong woman.”
“So you don’t want a big extravagant wedding?”
“To someone someday,” I said, “but let’s not kid ourselves. This is a marriage on paper only. You need a bride, and I need a job. If you want a big wedding, fine, but this is all pretend anyway, so don’t do it on my account.”
“Then City Hall it is,” he said.
He took our plates and put them in the sink.
“Oh, I know that you’re not just going to be leaving dirty dishes in the sink,” I said.
He gave me a look that told me that’s exactly what he intended to do. “Of course not.”
He turned on the sink and began to run water over one of the plates.
“Let me guess,” I said, “you’ve never used a dishwasher in your life, have you?”
He didn’t need to say anything. His expression said it all.
I got up and walked to him. “Here,” I said, sighing, “I’ll show you.”
We arrived at City Hall, grabbed our ticket, and sat in the waiting area, hoping that it wouldn’t take too long for them to call our number.
I could tell that Glenn didn’t like this. He fidgeted in his seat, looking at his watch.
“You have somewhere to be?” I asked.
“It’s just a waste of time,” he said.
“Yeah, it sucks, doesn’t it? To have to wait like everyone else?” I was mocking him, but I felt a slight hint of pride. I knew what he wanted to do wa
s go up to anyone in charge and offer them a small fortune just so he wouldn’t need to wait. He could do that, but he didn’t.
He looked around. “How do people handle this?”
“People read,” I said, “or play on their phones. My phone is dead and I didn’t bring a book, so I guess that means we need to rely on option three, which is to have a conversation.”
“That would sound awful if it was anybody but you.”
“Such a flatterer.”
“Is this seriously what people do? They just wait?” he asked.
“For pretty much most of the day. We stand in line for food, wait on hold when we call customer support, sit stuck in traffic. Life is a lot of waiting for something to happen. You just try to make the best of it.”
“Hmm.” He sat with the thought, but clearly wasn’t having it.
“Here,” I said, “tell me something about yourself that most people don’t know.”
He sat for a moment, contemplating it. “You know,” he said, “most people don’t know much about me.”
“Then this should be easy.”
“Okay,” he said. “I like old movies.”
“How old?”
“However old. I like black and white movies. I like old musicals. I like Buster Keaton and Humphrey Bogart and Katherine Hepburn and Jimmy Stewart. I like them all.”
“What’s your favorite?”
“Notorious.”
“With Ingrid Bergman and Cary Grant?”
“You’ve seen it?” he asked. His face lit up and, for perhaps the first time, I saw that there was a person inside. A person who enjoyed more than just having money. A person who could actually have some kind of connection with another human being.
“Once or twice. I didn’t get to go to the movies very much growing up, so I’d watch whatever was on TV or what I could get from the library. The old Hitchcocks were some of my favorites.”
“Me, too,” he said. “I have a 35 mm print of it if you want to watch it with me.”