by Brooke Page
“You look amazing,” Mitch breathed.
“Thank you. What’d you have planned?” I asked, batting my eyelashes in full-on flirt mode.
Mitch licked his lips, proving I’d be able to get anything I wanted from him tonight. “Let me tell you on the way out,” he flirted back. He held the door, checking me out as I walked by, and my ego lifted, knowing he loved what he saw.
“Have fun! Be good to my best friend,” Becca called after us.
“You trying to kill me tonight?” Mitch said gruffly as the elevator doors closed.
“You’d already be dead if that were the case.”
He laughed under his breath. “You’ve always got something smart to say, don’t you?”
There was no need to argue with that statement, so I simply shrugged while pulling my sunglasses from my purse. “So, what do you have planned for the evening?”
Mitch took one large stride so he was standing in front of me and pulled my sunglasses from my face, his emerald eyes holding my stare. “There are two rules tonight. No walls and no excuses.” His eyes provoked me to argue with him, but I didn’t make a sound. “Okay?” he asked slowly, making sure I understood he was serious.
I nodded, my words lost in his eyes. Then he smiled. My heart thumped harder when his dimples made an appearance. “I want to get to know the real you tonight, Jamie.”
I gulped, my voice still paralyzed.
The elevator binged, and Mitch nodded to follow him. “I thought we’d walk around the city for a bit. It’s a beautiful night, and ArtPrize just started.”
ArtPrize was very new to me, but I couldn’t wait to explore the city because of it. Artists from around the world travel to compete against each other, and the city was posted with all forms of art.
“Whoa!” I jumped as I nearly ran into a horse standing outside of our condo complex. He was attached to a buggy, and a man with a tall hat held his reins. He waved at Mitch.
“Hey! Sorry we’re late,” Mitch greeted the gentleman. He returned Mitch’s greeting with a warm smile as he jumped from his seat.
“Don’t worry about it. Where can I take you two tonight?” The gentleman took off his hat, bowing toward my direction and reaching for my hand.
“Um, what?” I asked.
Mitch turned in my direction. “This is our mode of transportation.”
Looking at the giant horse made my eye twitch. Those things were huge, and shouldn’t be trusted.
“Come on, don’t be such a baby,” Mitch teased as he hopped into the carriage. He held his hand out to me. “Trust me, it’ll be fine,” he encouraged.
Reluctantly, I took his hand, and he pulled me upward in one swift movement, right to his chest. He cocked his head, slight grin in place.
“That was shockingly easy.”
“What was?” I asked, my eyes never leaving his broad shoulders.
“Pulling you into the carriage. I thought for sure you’d give me shit about doing it yourself like you did with my truck.”
“I gave you shit because you wanted to grab my ass and push me in your truck.”
“Hmm, I might have to do that later tonight.”
I shoved him, pulling my hand from his grip and taking a seat. He only chuckled, then found the seat next to me.
“Can you take the long way to the Grand Rapids Art Museum?” Mitch asked the coachman.
The coachman nodded, clicking his tongue and moving his reins. The horse moved forward, causing the carriage to jerk. I wasn’t expecting the movement, so I gripped the seat, but caught Mitch’s knee instead.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, moving my hand to my own knee as quickly as I could.
Mitch chuckled. “No problem, just grab higher next time, okay?”
My elbow found his rib, causing an oomph to escape his lips. My lips quivered as I tried not to smile, but I couldn’t help it. Putting Mitch in his place made me happy.
Sculptures of men in different poses lined the entry toward the three flights of stairs to the entrance of the Art Museum. Mitch climbed out first, then reached for my hand to help me out. I was impressed he remembered; maybe a gentleman was inside of him somewhere. Or maybe I was too big of a bitch to notice before.
“I’ll be honest, I’ve never stepped foot in an art museum,” I admitted while we walked the stairs.
Mitch gave me a surprised look. “Really? So I’m popping your cherry?” The flirtatious grin made me let out a deep breath of annoyance.
“I hate to break it to you, but my cherry was popped a long time ago.”
“I’m sure it’s still just as sweet,” he murmured, opening the door for me.
My eyebrows rose in challenge. “Guess you’ll never know.”
His eyes grew wide as I entered past him. Ha! He could chew on that for a while.
The museum wasn’t as big as I’d thought it would be, but the artwork was stunning. They even had a lighting display with lasers pointing in different directions to create an image on the ceiling. Mitch stared at each piece, studying them intently and looking at them as though they each had their own soul and were trying to tell him a story.
“What do you think of this one?” Mitch asked quietly as we stood in front of a black and white charcoal drawing that was nearly as tall as two of us put together.
My eyes searched the picture, trying to describe what I saw. “Well, they’re animals.”
Mitch kept looking at the picture, then turned to face me. “That’s it? You only see animals?”
I turned my head back to the artwork, not sure how else to describe what I saw. Mitch sighed, taking a step closer to the picture. “They’re all partnered up, close together as if they’re running from something. The outside world around them is dark, dreary, dangerous… but they aren’t that way. They’re happy they have each other. That’s all they need.”
I blinked at him. His answer stunned me. Who was this man?
His frown was still in place. “What?”
“Nothing.”
We traveled to more pieces, but my eyes stayed on Mitch until we came to a set of striking photos. They were breathtaking. Black and white stills of a couple, slowly fading and becoming darker as pain contorted her face and the man became more dominant. The last picture almost brought me to my knees. He was overpowering the woman, his hands around her neck while she stared helplessly into the sky.
Wetness threatened my eyes. Her helplessness was a reality for me at one point, and I still felt like I was suffocating even though no hands were on me. But they were… Rod had me trapped in fear, no matter how hard I fought it on the outside.
Mitch looked at me intently, as though he could sense something was wrong. My shoulders fell as I dabbed my eyes and looked toward another set of photos.
“Hungry? Want to go grab something?”
His hand brushed my forearm, and I pulled it away from him, bringing my fingers to my chest, slowly traveling up my neck and massaging gently to bring me back to the now. I wasn’t hungry, but I needed a change of scenery. I nodded, then led the way to the exit.
Mitch never said a word about my reaction to the photos. Maybe he hadn’t noticed? But I knew he had. I was beginning to realize he was more complex than I’d given him credit for.
When we walked outside, the air was still thick, and no carriage was in sight. “I thought we’d walk and get something from the food trucks, then find a spot at Rosa Parks Circle to sit and eat?”
“Sure.” My answer was quick because my head was still elsewhere.
“Sure? Wow… you’re really compliant today. My requests may get more up close and personal by the end of the night.” He smirked, wiggling his eyebrows.
I shook my head, realizing he was trying to get a rise out of me, but instead of getting furious with him, I laughed quietly. He was a funny guy when I wasn’t pissed off at him.
“Anything but Mexican.”
“Can’t hold your beans, huh?” I snorted, shocked he went there. “Woman always say it’s
men who are the gross ones.” He shook his head in disapproval but kept a smile on his face. “How about a good old fashioned hot dog?”
“Sounds right up my alley.”
“All right, but no chili sauce for you,” he teased again.
***
We strolled through Ah-Nab-Awen Park along the Grand River, stopping to sit down in front of the giant button sculpture close to my condo. The evening was, to my surprise, going okay, except I hadn’t done any snooping or flirting. It was moving along like a normal date, and the fact that I was enjoying spending time with Mitch in this environment scared me.
“So tell me about Jamie Rae,” Mitch said out of the blue. He was sitting with his forearms draped across his knees, relaxed and at ease.
“Not a whole lot to know.”
“I don’t buy that for a second. Where are you from?”
I bit my lip as I looked out at the river, unsure how much of me I was willing to share. I’d always been good at deflecting questions, though. Besides, playing twenty questions might help me find answers for Becca about the supposed drug scheme in the Conklin buildings.
“Well, I was born in a small town in Florida.”
“What small town?”
“Point Canal. I graduated school, went to Florida State where I met Becca, and here I am.” That was the only normal part of my life, the part I was willing to share. It usually satisfied the people asking questions.
“Okay… small town. What about your family? Are they in that small town?”
I nodded, not saying anything else. He shook his head in disapproval.
“I thought I said no walls?”
Pausing for a moment, I continued. “My parents live there. My mother sells catalog jewelry when she isn’t being summoned by my siblings. My father works in a factory. I have a big family, and we’re spaced pretty far apart. My sister is in high school—she’s nine years younger than me.”
“Do you talk to her a lot?”
“She calls me, yes. She’s very dramatic. She’s a cheerleader, popular, and boy obsessed. I wish I could be there to help my mom tame her some, but she’s a good girl.”
“And your other siblings?”
“The rest are brothers. Trevor is twelve. Very relaxed, he’s more like me. Then there are the twins, they’re seven. They run circles around my parents.” I laughed, picturing a typical night in the Rae household.
“Wow, that’s a lot of kids. You know I’m the baby, so I don’t know what it’s like to be the oldest.”
Landon was the oldest, but I didn’t feel like sharing my closest sibling relationship with Mitch. It was too personal, and my emotions flew all over the place whenever I talked about Landon. “I don’t know what it’s like being the youngest.”
“What else? Movies? Music? Animals? I know you can’t handle your Mexican…”
I laughed out loud, smacking the side of his thigh. “I just don’t like Mexican. I never said I couldn’t handle it.”
I continued to talk, opening up to him as the sun began to set. He seemed genuinely interested in what I was saying, commenting when he could, but he mainly listened.
Mitch noticed the lamp posts flickering then stood. “Come on, there’s one more place I want to take you tonight.” He held out his hand. After a beat, I took it, but he didn’t let go this time. Instead, he laced our fingers together, leading me in the opposite way of the condo.
Once we reached the other end of the park, the same coachman and the horse that took us to the art museum earlier greeted us. He hopped down, opening the carriage door.
“Want to go first?” Mitch flirted. I gave him my famous glare while crossing my arms. Chuckling, he climbed in, then helped me up.
“Just thought I’d ask.”
When we sat down, he was closer to me, our sides touching one another with his arm resting behind me on the seat. Leaning into him happened automatically, and I fought the feelings that were telling me to push him away.
The coachman stopped in front of a tall apartment building that was under renovation. I saw the Conklin logo, figuring it was one of our latest remodels. A frown escaped me, wondering if Mitch was hiding drugs in this very building.
“Thanks, we’re good now. Have a great night,” Mitch said, paying the coachman and waving goodbye once we were out of the carriage. He took my hand again, leading me to the building entrance. It was dark outside, only the street lamps guiding us.
“This isn’t the part where you chop me up into little pieces, is it?”
“Nah, I figured I’d slip something in your drink so I could take advantage of you.”
“That does seem to be more your style,” I hummed. We gave each other knowing grins. It was fun to joke with him like this.
He took me into an elevator shaft that I thought wouldn’t work, but to my surprise it did. The walls weren’t completely built around it, and a caged-fencing kept us in. It was strange to see all the different floors as we ascended with only the street lamps showing the shadows as we passed by.
“How tall is this building?”
“Thirty-three floors. It’s going to be a new condo unit. I’m keeping the top condo for myself though. I don’t have a place here—only Chicago and Miami.” We finally stopped at the top floor. “I wanted to show you the view.”
I held Mitch’s arm as we stepped out of the elevator. His eyes searched the dark as he held up the light on his phone to find a power cord. Switching it on, florescent lights slowly flickered, exposing a wide open space with tall ceilings to hold three floors.
“This is … spacious.”
“I know, and I’ll get to design it on my own. I’ve never had that before. I’ve always lived in a previously built home. Sure, I’ve had decorators and all that crap, but never actually made the space mine.”
“That’s great, Mitch.”
Seeing his eyes light up reminded me of having dreams. I had dreams but focused on smaller ones such as school and my career. I gave up on bigger ones a long time ago.
“I’d been working on this building until Nathan and Tyler forced me to go to Miami.” Mitch’s face fell, and I instantly felt his pain. Being told what to do sucked.
“Come on,” he encouraged, taking my wrist and leading me to a half-finished staircase.
“You sure this is safe to walk on?” I asked timidly, mildly fighting his pull.
“Do you think I’d let you walk up it if I didn’t think so?” he scoffed.
When he opened the door, I gasped. You could see the entire city, including the smaller suburb lights from further out. You could even see Lake Michigan.
“This is beautiful,” I murmured, walking closer to the edge, but stopping when I realized complete railings hadn’t been put in yet.
“Yeah, watch your step,” Mitch said, yanking my arm back so I was next to him. “I love this view. It’s smaller than Chicago and Miami, but big enough to hold its own beauty.”
He took a seat, bringing me down with him so we were lying on the ground, the pea gravel crinkling as we made ourselves comfortable. My breath caught at the amount of stars I could see.
“This is the second best part. You can’t see the stars very well in Miami unless you look out toward the water, and you certainly can’t see them in Chicago. See over there?” Mitch pointed his finger to the sky. “There’s Orion, and over there are Ursa Major and Ursa Minor.”
“Ursa what?”
Mitch turned to look at me, smiling broadly. “The big and little dipper. Most people don’t know their real names.” He winked. “Do you know their story?”
I shook my head, moving so I was laying on my side, facing him with my arms cradling my head.
“Ursa Major, the big dipper, is named after Callisto, one of Zeus’ lovers. She had his child, which pissed off another Greek goddess, Hera. Hera turned Callisto into a bear because of it.”
“That’s a bitchy thing to do.”
Mitch grinned. “Maybe if Hera wasn’t married to Zeus.”
My eyes widened. “Zeus and Callisto’s son, Arcas, saw Callisto in the woods one day, and tried to spear her. So Zeus changed Arcas into a bear, Ursa Minor—”
“The little dipper,” I said before he could make some smart remark like I hadn’t been paying attention.
“Yes, and placed them both in the sky.”
“Bet that made his wife happy—mistress and love child out of the picture.”
Mitch shook his head while laughing. He began pointing out more constellations, and I was fascinated by his knowledge of what lay among the stars.
“My favorite is the Milky Way though,” he smirked, turning to his side so we were facing each other.
“Why’s that?”
Mitch licked his lips, and I could only imagine what story was going to come from his mouth. “The Milky Way came from Rhea, Cronus’ wife. Cronus was crazy. Right before he killed his father for the Greek throne, he was warned one of his children would overpower him.”
“Sounds like karma,” I chided.
“Well, he decided to swallow all of his children, except one. Zeus. Rhea hid Zeus, then wrapped a rock in a blanket to fool Cronus. Before Cronus swallowed the rock, Cronus wanted Rhea to nurse the baby one last time. He pushed the rock to her tit and POOF—milk shot everywhere. Hence, the Milky Way.”
“No way!” I laughed, sitting up.
Mitch shrugged, sitting up with me. “It’s true in Greek Mythology.”
“And what would a scientist say?”
“Scientists are boring,” Mitch scoffed. We both laughed again, then stared quietly out at the city. It had to be well past midnight. We’d been gazing at the stars for a while, but I wasn’t ready for the night to be over. I could sit out here in the slight breeze, listening to Mitch and his love of other worlds, even if I thought they were a bunch of stories.
“This gravel isn’t very comfortable,” I winced, wishing we had something softer to sit on.
“Here.” Mitch began unbuttoning his shirt, peeling it from his arms to hand to me. “It’s not that thick, but it’ll help. And it’s getting colder.” I took the shirt gratefully, sliding it on, enjoying smelling his woodsy scent as I curled myself into it more. He lay back down, wearing only his white undershirt, a look I was used to seeing on a daily basis in Miami. It formed his well-built upper body. His one bicep bulged as he put it under his head, and the other flexed as he reached for me, guiding me down to lay on his chest. I stiffened at first, but let him lead me, shutting my eyes as my head met his broad chest.