by Mia Caldwell
“Fine. But I’ll still stretch it out; you don’t need everything at once. But for example, I got rejected by all the Bama sororities. I graduated salutatorian of my high school class with a 4.3 GPA, had extracurricular activities out the wazoo, and I’m pretty friendly and open. But nope—they have a strict ‘whites only’ policy. At the time I was pretty bummed about it, but I later realized it was for my own good. The girls would have probably hazed me to death or outright smothered me in my sleep and then come up with some cover story that no one would have questioned, so they definitely did me a favor.”
“I’m really sorry to hear this, Mari.”
“I warned you.”
“I don’t mean that I want you to stop sharing these hardships with me. I’m in your life now, and I’m here to protect you. Beyond supplementing your lack of street smarts, I’ve got your back. Things like that happen, you let me know. As you like to throw in my face, I’ve got lots of money and power; I can make people pay for hurting you.”
Maribel’s heart began to melt, so she quickly tried to change the subject, unable to deal with the emotions flooding her.
“Your turn. I’m almost afraid to ask, but where’s your mom in this whole thing? You haven’t mentioned her.”
He briefly looked away.
“When I was twenty-one and Judy was sixteen, my mom died of ovarian cancer. It was terrible losing her, but I felt even worse for my sister Judy; it broke my heart to see her lose her at such a crucial time. It’s been about five years since then, and it turns out I had nothing to worry about—Judy’s strong, a soldier. She’s more like my dad than I’ve ever been, so she’s hardy and focused. She knows exactly what she wants and goes for it. Well, except in one area.”
He grinned.
“She has this massive crush on my best friend Scott, but it’s like she refuses to acknowledge it to herself or decided not to do anything about it for whatever reason. Maybe she has a deal with herself, like you.”
He shrugged and she shoved him playfully.
“Either way, I wish my mom could have seen how she turned out. I think Judy is both my mom and dad’s favorite kid and I don’t blame ‘em. She’s pretty awesome. Can’t wait to introduce you two. Speaking of sisters, what about yours? What happened?”
“She and I were pretty close growing up, but once we hit our teens, everything changed. She’s two years older than me and maybe I wasn’t cool enough to be around her friends—fine, I get it; younger siblings are never cool unless they’re famous or something—but it was so abrupt. She no longer confided in me, she partied all the time, despite my parents giving her curfews and chastising her and warning her of the dangers of whatever she was into, and then one day, she left with some guy and we haven’t heard hide nor hair from her since.”
“Wait, are you sure she’s okay? She might need help…”
Mari shook her head.
“That would be one hell of a Weekend at Bernie’s trick by someone, because I see updates on her Facebook with new profile pics of her smiling and having fun. She’s alive, she’s…healthy, I suppose, and she’s an adult, so my parents can’t do anything. She’s just…gone. I just hope she’s as happy as she looks in her profile photo. She hasn’t blocked me, but I can tell she’s got me in some kind of limited setting.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, as I don’t use Facebook. Anyway, I’m sorry you and your sister are no longer close—what a shame.”
She shrugged.
“Sometimes people just move on—whatever needs they had were met, so they have no other reason to keep someone around. I’ve thought about the whole thing a lot, and I’ve been watching other people’s relationships, and death is certainly the worst—things unsaid, things that can never be said haunt people and there’s not much they can do about it—but people have this huge capacity to forget others they were once inseparable from while both parties are still alive.
“My parents are super close and they’re best friends and everything, so it’s harder for me to see it happen to them, but my friend, Annie—her parents divorced, and they might not have grown up together, but they married young and grew together, shared all sorts of intimacy. They were super close too, and the most important things in each other’s lives for a long time. And then one day, they weren’t anymore; all that bonding severed. Of course, it probably didn’t help that her dad had eventually found a job that required him to go away every now and then, and I can only imagine the problems that sprung from that. The point is, for a lot of people, proximity is essential to fostering a bond—no matter how close and inseparable they once were.”
“Except in the case of true love, it seems0—no matter the distance, hearts bonded by true love don’t forget.”
Mari stared at him in wonder.
“You’re saying you believe in that stuff now?”
“I’ve seen the one-sided version of it with my mom, and there was at least one sickening couple I witnessed in college that seemed to have the real thing. I’d have to look it up and see how things went. But I’ve heard about this true love phenomenon here and there. As far as I can tell, you can grow to love almost anyone, and that’s the kind that needs to be fed. But I do believe there are game-changing people out there—those you couldn’t stop loving if you tried. We just don’t all get to meet them, hence the non-believers. In the case of true love—romantic or familial, you can run, but you can’t hide. No matter what you put between yourself and the one your heart chose or your soul connected with, that love goes nowhere. So if your sister truly loved you, I guarantee she still thinks about you. She might have even taken off with you in mind—to make sure she had no bad influence on you.”
Mari almost halted her steps.
“Holy cow. I never even thought of that.”
“Maybe someday she’ll be ready to talk to you again. She might even be embarrassed, dreading the words I told you so from the family if things didn’t work out as she thought. Anyway, don’t be too hard on her. Give her a chance if she ever asks for it—directly or indirectly.”
Mari stared at Jim as if seeing him for the first time.
“You are not at all like what I initially thought. You’re not what I’d expect some multimillionaire to be. You actually have a heart. Compassion.”
His eyebrows raised, then he chuckled.
“Yeah, I suppose I don’t have an Apple watch for a heart, Mari. Spoiler alert: my blood’s not actually blue.”
She laughed while his hand went to his stomach as it growled.
“Also, I eat real food, not diamonds. You hungry yet? There’s this place I’d like you to try. Anything that catches your eye, really—I need to feed the beast.”
* * *
Maribel still felt sort of bathed in a golden glow as they sat waiting for their dessert.
She felt like she had learned so much more about Jim—like her brain was still catching up with her heart.
He worried her tremendously because he felt exactly like the thing he’d mentioned earlier: a game-changer.
“Stay right here,” he suddenly said, getting up and disappearing out of the restaurant’s doors.
She watched him go, wondering what the heck he was up to.
Five minutes later, he returned, smiling.
“What on earth was that? They have a bathroom in here, don’t they?”
“You’ll see,” he said, looking incredibly proud of himself.
Once they were done eating and left, he led the way to a florist.
Maribel smiled when she saw it, figuring out what he was up to.
He let her hand go as he said, “be right back,” before darting into the shop.
He emerged with a gorgeous bouquet, dominated by peaches and cream.
“Oh, my god,” she almost whispered, her voice choked.
She was too touched by the gesture to be embarrassed that her eyes had watered as she took in the beautiful bouquet.
She couldn’t remember the last time s
he’d gotten flowers—probably a corsage for the prom.
“They’re beautiful,” she said, finally aware enough to be mildly ashamed that she was practically in tears over such a simple thing.
“These are my favorite colors—how did you know?”
He shrugged. “I didn’t. Just guessed. Somehow I knew exactly what I wanted the bouquet to look like, and when the florist was done with it, it was better than I imagined. To be honest, I think I saw something like it somewhere—can’t remember where—but it came to mind while I had the arrangement made. The colors seem to suit you. Anyway, I’m so glad you like it.”
“I love it. I can’t wait to take them home and have them brighten up my place a bit. I wish I could keep them for months and months.”
She saddened at the thought of them dying—sometime after Jim came to his senses and was long gone.
“I’ll send you new ones if you’d like—every week, fresh flowers to decorate your home.”
Her heart squeezed, her throat tightening again to the point that she couldn’t respond.
Finally, she got a hold of herself.
She looked up at him, emotions still swirling about, but her throat had slackened enough for her to talk again.
“Thank you,” she said.
“My pleasure,” he replied, looking at her warmly before bending to kiss her lightly on the lips.
* * *
JIM
Jim knew he’d do anything to see Mari smile, to see that joyous look on her face over and over again.
Mari’s joy made him feel happy—like he had earned a gold star.
As they headed back to her apartment in a taxi, it hit him—he’d seen a bouquet like the one he’d gotten her in a dream—the dream he had the night before he was supposed to walk down the aisle.
He chuckled, and Mari immediately inquired what he was laughing about.
“I just remembered where I saw the bouquet,” he said. “In that dream I told you about.”
Her brows came together but she was still smiling, silently enquiring him to tell her more.
He shook his head.
“Can’t remember much else.”
It was the sort of half-truth he could live with; after all, he couldn’t remember many details beyond how he felt when he was expecting his bride.
The strange bride herself was a blur—although his brain was starting to fill in a face.
* * *
The door had hardly closed behind them before Mari flung her arms around his shoulders and brought her face to his for a kiss.
He took her lips hungrily, exploring her mouth with his tongue before gently pulling away and indicating the bouquet.
“Let’s put these away, shall we?” he said, wanting to make sure to preserve the flowers properly for her.
She ran to find a container, filling it with water in record time.
He started to arrange them, but he was apparently too detail-oriented for her, for she pulled him away, stripping off her top, then pulling him toward the bedroom.
“Remind me to put the flower food in…”
Her mouth grabbed his again.
He helped her out of her bra and she wiggled out of her jeans and underwear.
He picked her up and laid her on the bed gently before stripping his own clothes off and eventually covering her body with his.
He kissed her, remaining poised above her, her legs parted on each side of him, while she pulled on him, silently begging him to take her.
He wanted to taste her, nibble on her neck and breasts, slide his hands all over her before they joined again, but she was quite impatient this time around.
Still, he decided to torture her, pretending not to understand her hunger.
Finally, she broke her lips away to say, “Please take me!” but before she got all the words out, he plunged into her warmth, smiling wickedly as she arched her back in pleasure.
* * *
“Do you have to go?” he asked drowsily as Mari turned to shut her alarm off.
He couldn’t believe it was morning already.
They had gotten back from their outing around six, then had a quick lovemaking session before grabbing snacks and chatting a bit about decor ideas while he properly sorted out her new flowers.
Then she had attacked him again, and they had spent the next few hours joined.
At some point, they had both fallen asleep—although she had nodded off first, giving him the chance to admire her, to let all of his feelings flow freely as he caressed her silky brown skin, to place soft kisses on her forehead, her cheek, her shoulder.
She made him forget all of his problems—so much so, that he hadn’t even done his due diligence in following up on the wedding scandal.
But no doubt his dad had taken care of it, and he didn’t give a whit what his father had come up with; all that mattered was being here with Mari.
Things were finally clear; he knew what he wanted to do.
“How long will you be gone you think?” he asked as she was about to disappear into the bathroom.
“I’m just following up on this one lead, so it shouldn’t be more than two hours. Then we can do whatever you want.”
The door closed and he heard the shower turn on.
He considered following her in there again, but he didn’t want to fluster her or make her late for her meeting.
He smiled to himself.
They’d have plenty of time for what he had in mind later.
Maribel got ready in record time, and he was suddenly faced with goodbye.
“I’ll miss you,” he said before pressing his lips to her forehead, feeling the weight of truth in the statement.
How had he gotten so used to her so fast?
She grabbed him by the cheeks and planted one on his lips.
“I can’t wait to get back to you,” she said with a twinkle in her eye and an endearingly shy but joyous smile.
Chapter 12
Jim
Jim stared at the mail pile—notices from news stations, magazines.
So Mari had been applying to media and entertainment companies—made sense. Everyone could use a good copy editor.
It seemed a little strange that all the communication came from television stations, magazines, and newspapers, however.
Jim’s stomach dropped as his phone rang, and dread began to spread through him.
He knew it couldn’t have been Mari calling—his gut let him know it could only be one of two people he would dread hearing from, and considering the way things ended with Lucy, that left one person.
“Dad?”
“Well, look who’s still alive! Well, thank heavens. Glad you’re okay, son, because the sixty hours or so I haven’t heard from you makes a father worry.”
“I’m sure Judy told you I was okay.”
“Surely, you didn’t think that was enough? I would hate to think that my only son—my flesh and blood—would have the courtesy to let his only living parent know that he’s okay himself. I had to have done a better job of raising him than that.”
“Dad, I’m sorry—I just needed some time away to think. I had to clear my head.”
“That’s perfectly understandable—except you should let certain people know what’s going on. Among them, your father, your future wife…”
“Who you managed to fuck in my brief absence—yes, I know.”
His father paused.
“So I comforted the girl. She felt humiliated. Rejected.”
“Dad, I’m not even going to argue about that; I couldn’t care less who Lucy spreads her legs for, which was part of the problem. I’m not going to marry her—whether you’d slept with her or not, I can’t stand the idea of being hitched to her. Not saying I’m not open to the idea of marriage ever, but I can’t waste time on Lucy.”
“You’d rather spend it with Maribel, correct?”
Jim suddenly heard his heartbeats in his ears.
“How do you know about her?”
&nbs
p; “Lucy gave me a rundown of your meeting, of course. What, you think I wouldn’t take matters into my own hands? Like I said, you disappeared after running out on your wedding day without a word, your phone is turned off, you never show up to your penthouse—what do you expect a father to do? Anyway, once Lucy made contact with you, it was easier to make sure everything was fine and do a little digging.”
Jim’s heart was still pounding; part of him was expecting the other shoe to drop.
“Listen, I don’t blame you for squeezing in more flings; we’ll return to this matter some other day, and I won’t force you to marry Lucy. Anyway, I hope you haven’t been too chatty with this Maribel.”
“What do you mean?”
“I may have failed you when it comes to common courtesy—I mean, it’s not like I’m the strongest example of it myself as you’ve pointed out—but I have at least raised you to be smart. To do your due diligence to some degree. Surely, you haven’t fallen into the trap of spilling secrets in the afterglow to a reporter?”
The beats in Jim’s ear seemed to stop.
“Excuse me?” he said while his eyes darted to the stack of mail again.
“I can’t imagine she kept it from you all this time. Madison will have her work cut out for her if you’ve been so careless as to give this reporter any details; the whole PR department will be busy. You know those media vultures are always chomping at the bit for a story. Everyone loves a scandalous takedown.”
“Don’t be so dramatic, dad—what sort of takedown can happen from a silly story about an unfinished wedding?”
“Surely, I don’t have to spell this out for you, but alas—it looks like I must. This reporter knows the ins and outs of the past few days, doesn’t she? The real reason you were to marry Lucy? That Lucy and I have had relations? About the conglomerate? We are a strong family brand, are we not? I mean, sure—you’re right, ultimately, who cares about the sordid sex lives of members of one’s financial consulting firm or investment companies? Except some people do. I’d prefer to keep our image clean, but obviously, you have other plans.”