You and I Alone

by Melissa Toppen

  “I'm sorry but he's not here.” She says, not the least bit surprised by the name which is an immediate indication that she knows exactly who Bentley is. Turning the rest of the way to face her, I climb the two steps and take my spot next to Lo, finally getting a really good view of the woman in front of us. There is something so familiar about her and yet, I can't quite put my finger on it. Her features are soft and even though the wrinkle of her skin shows her age, she is still incredibly beautiful.

  “Is there something I can do for you?” She asks, not seeming the least bit annoyed by our intrusion.

  “He sent my friend this gift and unfortunately she is unable to accept it. We were hoping to return it to him. Do you expect to see him anytime soon?” Lo asks, making me feel like a small child at her side. I should be the one talking, not standing at her side in complete silence like I am incapable of speaking for myself.

  “I do actually.” She says, a warm smile pulling up the corners of her mouth, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes crinkling as she does. “I would be happy to give it to him if that's what you need.” She says, holding her hands out to Lo who immediately sets the box in her hands. Turning slightly, the woman sets the box just inside the door and then turns to face us again.

  “Is there anything else I can do for you ladies?” She asks, for the first time meeting my eyes. Like a punch to the gut, all the wind leaves my lungs when the crisp blue of her eyes settles on mine, matching Bentley's eyes perfectly. Like a light bulb flipping on, I immediately realize she must be family. But who? His mom? An aunt maybe?

  “No. Thank you so much.” I finally find my words. “We are so sorry again for disturbing you.” I say, backing away from the door.

  “That's quite all right dear.” She says, nodding at both of us before stepping back and closing the door, the sound of the lock clicking in place immediately following.

  “Well she was super sweet.” Lo says, turning from the door and following me down the stairs as I practically run to my car and peel open the drivers side door, ducking inside as quickly as possible.

  Lo takes her time getting in and then hits me with a confused look when she realizes my panicked reaction. “What is with you?”

  “Do you have any idea who that was?” I ask, looking at her like she has to be blind not to see it.

  “Should I?” She asks, shaking her head at me in confusion.

  “Jesus Lo, I think she was related to him.” I exhale loudly, dropping my head back on the head rest.

  “Seriously?” She turns towards me. “How could you tell?”

  “The eyes.” I say, looking out of the front windshield. “I knew the moment we made eye contact. Fucking perfect. Not only did I return the gift he sent me. But I returned it to a woman who is probably his mother, at three o'clock in the morning!” I exclaim, covering my hands with my face.

  “I thought she was a housekeeper.” Lo immediately begins laughing.

  “Why is this funny to you. We just disturbed her in the middle of the night like teenage hooligans. We will be lucky if he doesn't fire us both.”

  “Relax.” Lo says, reaching across the console to squeeze my hand that is currently gripping the steering wheel. “I don't know why you are so worked up about this. We returned it. It's done. She was super sweet about it. I doubt she will even mention what time we were here.”

  “You don't think it is totally invasive of his personal life that we came here?” I ask, gaping at her in disbelief.

  “I think you are way closer to the situation than me and maybe thinking a little too much into the repercussions of a harmless act. You wanted to return the dress, you did. Tomorrow you will be on your way to Vermont and this whole situation will have blown over by the time you return.”

  “You're right.” I take a deep breath, realizing just how much I am overreacting to the situation. “It's not like I plan to ever see the woman again, so if she thinks I am crazy, I guess that's okay.” I laugh to myself.

  “I can't believe his mother would live there anyways.” She says, looking back to the townhouse. “You would think with as much money as that man has, she would live in a mansion somewhere.”

  “Maybe she doesn't want his money or hell, maybe that's not even her.” I say on a shrug. Lo laughs, turning back towards me.

  “Come on, let's get out of here. I will buy you a milkshake.” She smiles widely at me and I can't help but immediately laugh.

  “Deal.” I say, pulling out into the street and heading in the direction of our favorite twenty-four hour diner.

  ****

  By the time my flight lands in Vermont, I have done my best to push last night's little incident to the back of my mind. I need to use my four days away to cleanse myself of the entire situation and hopefully find some peace within my chaotic mind.

  “Anna!” I hear a familiar voice squeal as I exit the terminal into the crowded airport. “Anna.” I hear again before I finally spot Andrea practically running towards me. “Oh my God, I am so glad you are here.” She sings, pulling me into a tight squeeze.

  “Me too.” I say, stepping out of her embrace to get a good look at her. It's only been a month since she left and yet, it feels like it's been years since I have seen her. Her dark hair seems longer, if that's possible. And her olive skin has the perfect bronze from days of laying in the sun no doubt. Add on the white sundress and matching sandals and Andrea looks every bit of a man's wet dream. “You look incredible.” I say, slinging my carry on bag over my shoulder as Andrea leads me away from the terminal to collect my suitcase.

  “Are you kidding? I have eaten more junk in the last four weeks then I think I did our entire Junior year. I am fairly certain that by the time I return to school I will have to buy a whole new wardrobe.” She groans.

  “Life is just so hard for you.” I shake my head at her. “You poor thing. Whatever am I going to do with you?”

  “Well, I could really use a wing man. Well, wing woman.” She laughs, giving me her best pretty please smile.

  “As if you actually need my help.” I roll my eyes at her, grabbing my suitcase from the belt. “But for once, I'll bite.” I say, following her through the airport, weaving in and out of the various people coming and going.

  “Just wait. There are so many hot guys everywhere, you will barely be able to contain yourself. It's far too much of a selection for just one person. I need help narrowing down my prospects.” She says, smiling widely when I burst into laughter.

  “You drug me all the way to Vermont so that I could help you pick out a summer fling?” I ask, laughing through my disbelief.

  “I classify that as a much needed reason for my best friend to be here, yes.” She says, faking offense. “Besides, maybe you can have a little fun while you're here. From the look of those bags under your eyes, you need it.” She says, giving me a wink as we step out into the warm Vermont sun.

  Climbing into the back of Andrea's parent's town car, I power on my phone for the first time since leaving Chicago, honestly a bit surprised that I have no messages and no missed calls. I don't know why but I thought for sure Bentley would have called by now.

  “What's wrong?” Andrea asks from the seat next to me, watching my face as I stare at my phone.

  “Nothing.” I say, giving her smile as I lock my phone and drop it into my bag. “I am just ready to spend the next four days pool side with my bestie.” I say, throwing her a smile.

  The ride is spent listening to Andrea go on and on about her parents and how horrible her summer has been up to this point. While I love this girl more than anything, she has a knack for the dramatics. Luckily, living with her for three years has given me a clear insight into how to handle this. Nod my head and pretend like I agree with every word she says. I laugh at the appropriate parts, gasp when necessary and then reassure her that life could be much worse than having rich parents that you think are crazy.

  I am fairly certain most people probably think their parents are bonkers but then
again, I wouldn't know that for sure. My grandma passed away before I had a chance to think she was anything other than the perfect sweet old woman I remember. And Patty, well I was just so thankful when she took me in, I could never feel anything but gratitude towards her.

  By the time we arrive at the private beach resort just off of Lake Champlain, I have all but forgotten about my life in Chicago. Andrea has a way of pulling me out of my own mind and distracting me with all her nonsense. I think that's one of the reasons I love her so much.

  “Here we are.” She sings, just as the driver puts the car in park. Peering out of the tinted window, I immediately gasp at the beautiful scenery in front of me. Stone paths lined with beautiful tree lights lead to various private homes scattered throughout the amazing green space. Fountains, flowers and beautifully kept trees fill in the area and give it the perfect elegant feel without being too overdone.

  Climbing out of the backseat, I immediately see a club house directly to our right overseeing the lake and mountains which I bet is breathtaking at night. Behind the club house is a large underground pool surrounded by lounge chairs and from where I am standing, I can see at least three separate hot tubs and an outdoor bar.

  “This place is incredible.” I say, turning back to face Andrea just as she steps out of the car and closes her door. “How could you not feel like you are in heaven here?”

  “It loses it's luster pretty quickly.” She says dryly, clearly having spent her entire life visiting places such as this one.

  “Maybe for you.” I say, turning back towards the lake. “I think I could stay here forever.” I sigh, taking a deep inhale of the fresh air, loving the smell of the water.

  “Come on. You haven't even see the place yet.” She laughs, leading me down the closest stone path towards a home that looks like a quaint little cottage only it's more like fifty times the size. She leads me up a stone stairwell onto a gorgeous front porch that wraps around the entire home, which is secluded by large trees and bushes, giving off just the right amount of privacy without taking away from the atmosphere.

  It isn't until we step inside the home that my jaw practically hits the floor. It's gorgeous. Open and spacious with not a single item out of place. The furniture and walls are neutral, decorated with modern art and sculptures only someone with money would be able to afford to have in their home.

  There's only one other place I can compare it to and the moment the hotel room I shared with Bentley pops into my head, it's like a seed is planted and try as I may, I can't seem to shake it. Andrea gives me a tour of the home which includes six bedrooms, four bathrooms, a private pool behind the property and private access to the beach just a few hundred feet away. And even as happy as I am to be here, a part of me suddenly craves the simplicity of my normal life in Chicago.

  While people like Andrea and Bentley may be comfortable in this world, it's a bit out of my level of reality. By the time Andrea finally leads me to my bedroom, which is the size of Patty's entire house, I suddenly feel exhausted. I wish I could blame it on the flight, but two hours on a plane is hardly enough time for jet lag.

  But it isn't until I spot the white box on my bed that everything inside of me seems to come alive. “What's that?” I ask Andrea as I drop my bags on the floor. Even though I already know, deep down I am praying that I am wrong.

  “I have no idea.” She says, crossing the space towards the bed. “It's addressed to you.” She says, looking at the small tag that hangs from the bow tied across the box and then back to me.

  “Shit.” I blurt, not sure what else to do or say. How did he find me here? How could he have possibly gotten it here this quickly?

  “What is it?” She asks, turning to the side to face me.

  “Bentley.” I answer without further explanation. Closing the distance between me and the bed in a matter of seconds, I quickly untie the bow and toss the lid to the box to the side. Sure enough, displayed in front of me, as beautiful as the first time I saw it, is the dress Bentley sent me. On top of it, an envelope.

  “Is this it?” Andrea asks, stepping beside me to trail her fingers down the fabric. “But I thought you were returning it.” She says after I nod.

  “I did. Last night.” I say, reaching for the envelope. “How did he get it here?” I voice out loud, flipping it over in my hands and peeling away the flap. With shaky fingers, I reach inside and pull out a rectangular piece of thick paper with perfect cursive scrawled across the front. Andrea stands silent at my side as I read his words aloud.

  This gift is for your birthday. Your

  return has been rejected.

  Should you seek to do so again, please refrain from visiting my mother and seek me out personally.

  I am confident that I will change your mind. See you on the 29th at seven.

  Until then,

  Bentley

  Chapter Eighteen

  “What about that one?” Andrea asks from her lounge chair next to me. Sliding my sunglasses down my face, I peer to my left where she is staring, drool practically pooling at the corners of her mouth.

  “Not bad.” I say, letting my eyes travel shamelessly down the man's sculpted body and then back up to his handsome face. He looks like a beach bum. Shaggy blonde hair and perfectly tanned skin with bright orange board shorts that hang perfectly from his hip bones.

  “Or him?” She says, directing my attention to a more conservative looking man sitting at the end of the bar. Like the other, he has a nice body and from what I can tell, has a pretty good looking face. But unlike the beach bum, this guy seems uptight and stressed.

  “I would go with the first one.” I say, sliding my sunglasses back into place and dropping my head back against the lounge chair, loving the feeling of the hot sun on my face.

  “I don't know. Number two seems intense. And you know what that equates too.” She smirks at me and I do my best to ignore the twinge in my stomach as Bentley's face comes rushing into my mind.

  “Yeah but the other is probably more fun and therefore would show you a better time. I still say number one.” I say, grabbing my Pina Colada from the table next to me and taking a long sip of the frozen concoction before setting it back down.

  “Well.” Andrea breathes beside me and then turns to face me. “How do you feel about brothers?” She asks, laughing lightly.

  “What?” I ask, looking back in the direction of Bachelor number one only to see he has been joined by an older looking version of himself.

  “Are you sure that's his brother and not his dad?” I ask, taking in the scruff that runs along his jawline with just a hint of gray to it.

  “No way. Look at him. He's clearly just a few years older. Besides, I thought you liked older men.” She teases, raising her eyebrows up and down at me.

  “There is something to be said about a man who has years of practice, I'll give you that. But that does not mean I have any interest in having a meaningless fling with someone that has a child my age.” I laugh when her mouth drops open.

  “You know what? I think a one night stand would do you well.” She says, elaborating when I give her a look that says I've already been there and done that. “Not like with Mr. Perfect. I mean a true one night stand. A random hookup with a person you do not know that you will likely never see again.”

  “And what is the perk of that exactly?” I ask, rolling my face to the side to study the two men who have now made their way to a round table just a few short feet from us. If they cared enough to listen to our ridiculous conversation, I would say that they could probably hear us from where they are standing.

  “Um, you get to fuck a hot guy and never see him again. I thought we already established this.” She laughs again, following my line of sight to where the two men are now sitting.

  “Fuck it. I'm going over there.” She says, tossing her legs over the side of the chair and sitting up, turning to give me a devilish grin.

  “I'm waiting.” I tease, having experienced two days of this already a
nd knowing damn well that she will back out the moment she gets close to them.

  “Screw you.” She says, throwing her straw at me after finishing the last of her drink. “I've been off my game here recently. But today, today I feel good.” She says, standing with a look of sheer determination across her pretty face.

  Andrea has never been one to shy away from a man. She typically has no trouble in this department and has more confidence in her big toe than I do in my whole body, but even still, she certainly has not been her normal man hungry self since I arrived. I mean sure, we have spent two days drooling over every man in sight, but she has yet to talk to a single one and I know better than anyone how rare that is.

  I watch her long legs glide as she crosses the few short feet separating our spot from the table the two men are currently occupying. Her perfectly sun kissed skin shimmers in the daylight and her long dark hair brushes back and forth with each step she takes, the longest part falling just inches from the top of her blue bikini bottoms.

  I half expect her to keep walking but can't help laughing when she swivels in place and stops directly in front of the two men, whose attention she captures immediately. I watch the younger one's smile grow wider and wider as Andrea talks. While I strain to hear what she is saying, she's speaking too lightly for me to really make anything out.

  Looking away, I turn my focus towards the pool and try to swallow down the hard lump in my throat as I feel someone's eyes on me. Feeling near naked in my white bikini, I push my sunglasses up further and sink down into my lounge chair, closing my eyes. Silently cursing Andrea, I can't help but wonder what the hell she is probably getting me into over there.

  I can almost imagine the conversation in my head at the same moment someone steps next me. I am not the least bit surprised. I don't have to open my eyes to know they are there. I can tell by the way the sun is no longer beating down on my face that I am currently bathed in someone's shadow.

  I peel one eye open, not sure of what I will see. My eyes immediately fall to muscular tan legs covered in black board shorts. Traveling upward, the further I go, the faster my heart beats. I know it is him before I even hit his face. I can tell from the definition in his chest, the muscles that line the sides of his neck and that unmistakable jaw line.