by Piper Rayne
“I’m not offering a whole dresser.” He opens the door to RISE.
“Thanks for the clarification.”
“Unless you want one. I’m trying to keep things at that granny speed you prefer. You know I’d buy you your own dresser if you’d let me.”
I walk through the door laughing. “It’s not granny. It’s like mom minivan speed.”
“When’s the last time you ventured out of the city?” he asks. “Suburban minivan moms drive the fastest.”
I stop and look at him. “Really?”
He nods.
“Okay then.” I stop and look up at the ceiling, thinking. “How about a kid who just got his license? The one who gets the good student discount for insurance. The one who listens to their parents. You know the type. Not the adrenaline junkie jock like you were.”
I laugh and look at Dean wondering why he hasn’t responded. His eyes are set on the chairs in our waiting area, unblinking.
“Or the way you still are.” My mom’s voice rings out and I whip my head around to see her standing from a chair. She straightens her blouse by the tails and slides her purse up her arm. “Chelsea, may I speak with you?”
“I’ve got phone calls to answer, but here you go,” Victoria says, putting a cup of coffee on the table in front of my mom.
“Sorry, I—I didn’t know you were coming.”
What do I say?
“Chelsea.” My mom’s tone becomes more impatient. “Office. Now.”
Dean doesn’t reach for my hand. If anything, he distances himself.
“You remember Dean?” I ask her. No sense ignoring the pink elephant in the room, or ex-husband as it were.
Her gaze flicks to his. “Nice to see you coherent.” Then her eyes are back on me with a look that demands privacy now.
Dean steps forward, putting his arm out. “Mrs. Walsh, it’s nice to see you again.”
My mom stares at his outstretched hand and for a moment I think she’ll never shake it. Eventually, she does, and Dean puts his hand back in his pocket.
“Dean’s a lawyer now. He’s doing pro bono work for the foundation.”
“Interesting.” She fake smiles.
“I better get back to the office.” Dean steps forward and I rear back. Then I bend forward and his head tilts back. After an awkward dance, his lips make contact with my cheek. “Dresser offer still stands,” he whispers, and a smile graces my lips.
“Mrs. Walsh.” He nods like some trained elitist. “Please give Mr. Walsh my best.”
“Dean,” she says the four letter word like it is the four letter word.
He steps out, catching my eye before he leaves. Can we please go back to a half hour ago?
“Your office. Now.” Mom heads down the hall without waiting for me.
“Hey, Vic, hold all my calls.”
Victoria gives me a ‘I’m sorry’ smile. It’s not her fault. I’m sure when I check my phone there’ll be messages from her.
By the time I enter my office, my mom is on my side of the desk.
“Shut the door,” she demands like we’re in her office, not mine.
Nonetheless, I follow her instructions.
She hasn’t even heard the click of the door before she’s laying into me. “How could you? He’s the worst person for you. What are you, going to marry him again?”
“Just relax. He’s changed.”
“He’s changed.” She throws her hands up in the air. “A tiger doesn’t change his stripes, Chelsea. He’s still that selfish bastard who let you down five years ago. A man who can’t take care of himself, let alone a wife.”
“I’m twenty-five. Do I have to remind you of that?” I clench my fists by my side in an effort to control my anger.
“Funny. You said that same line to me when you were eighteen and newly married.” She sits in my chair, taking a calming breath and then sets her focus on me. “Chelsea, just because he’s some lawyer now and dresses in nicer clothes than baseball shorts and t-shirts doesn’t mean the inside of that package has changed. You’re a smart woman, he’s just always had this power over you.”
“Because I love him,” I mumble, crossing my arms over my chest.
“You do not. Don’t let him convince you to feel things you don’t.” Her hand slaps down on the desk and I jolt.
“He’s not, Mom. I do. I love him. I love who he was five years ago, and I love him for the person he’s become. I knew you wouldn’t accept this.”
“There’s nothing to accept.”
“There is. We’re in a relationship.” I bring my hands back down to my sides and puff my chest out. “He just offered me a drawer at his place.”
“How sweet of the man.” She rolls her eyes. “Come back down to Earth, Chelsea. You’re sleeping with him, so he’s offering you a drawer so you can sleep with him some more.” She stands and leans toward me with her hands pressed down on my desk.
“Did you ever think that maybe I was as important to him as he is to me and that’s why he offered a drawer?”
I can’t believe I’m having an argument with her over a drawer.
“I think that men like Dean get what they want no matter how many lies they have to tell people to get it. I think as soon as he’s done, he’ll leave you again.”
“I left him,” I grind out.
She scoffs and shakes her head at me in pity. “Don’t fool yourself, he left you way before you walked out that door.”
I plop down in a chair that’s supposed to be for guests in my office, almost defeated. She always plays to win no matter how deep she has to plunge in the dagger.
“Stay out of it,” I say, staring at my knotted hands.
“You’re my daughter.”
I know I’m not wrong this time. I know it.
Standing back up, I decide I’m not going to let her dictate my life. She doesn’t bring much joy to it anyway.
“I’m going to continue dating him, Mom. I’d like you and Dad to give him a chance and see how he’s changed, but if you can’t do that, fine. But know that I’m not changing my mind. I’ve decided to give him a second chance.” I cross my arms for effect and she stares me down, calculated and waiting for me to crumble under her narrowed eyes.
After a prolonged silence, I speak. “Now this is where I work, and I have to get back to it. If you want to talk about this further, call me.” I walk over and open my office door.
“Chelsea, I’ll leave because I’m not going to make a scene, and everyone knows you need the money, but you can engrave this into stone. That boy is going to ruin you—again.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Mom, he’s a man now, not a boy.”
She shakes her head and leaves, stopping just after she’s cleared my doorway. “You can tell your father. I don’t want to upset him.”
“Will do.”
She walks down the hall and I lightly swing my door shut, even though I want to slam it for all it’s worth.
Am I the only one who can feel the tsunami brewing?
Chapter Twenty-Four
“Whoa, what a mama bear.” Victoria cringes while she peeks into my door.
“A grizzly to be precise. She’s not being protective.”
“Oh, I think she is. She’s worried.” She helps herself to a seat and of course Hannah is right behind her.
“I’m going to take the chairs out of my office,” I grumble.
Hannah smiles sweetly, one that says, ‘no you’re not, all is well.’
“Hey, it doesn’t matter what your mom thinks, it matters what you think.” Hannah’s hand reaches over and grabs mine.
“Exactly,” Victoria says.
“Speaks the woman whose mom loves her man.”
“Not always.” Victoria shrugs. “My mom hated Pete.”
I stare blankly at her.
“Yeah, okay I see your point.” She brings her fingers to her lips and zips. Even pretending to throw away the key. Is this what happens to people after they have kids?
“Truly I don’t care, it’s just going to make it uncomfortable at my cousin’s wedding.” I slide my hand out from Hannah’s and type my password into my computer.
“What are you going to do after that?” Hannah asks.
“I’m going to disown my mom.”
Hannah and Victoria glance at one another.
“Seems viable,” Hannah says. “Or you could try to let them see the good in Dean.”
“They’ve never seen the good in Dean. Actually” —I hold my hand up—“they weren’t that upset when they thought he was going to be a number one draft pick. After he hurt his shoulder and they figured out the money train vanished, that’s when they decided they really hated him.”
“They were okay with you marrying him at eighteen?” The judgment in Victoria’s tone is clear and she’s probably put herself in my mom’s position in her head. Jade marrying someone right after she leaves for college. I get it, shortly after we were married I made myself a promise that if we ever had a daughter, she’d know all the mistakes I made so she didn’t repeat them. Not like I really have to worry about that anyway.
“No. Not at first. They warmed up once they found out about his bank account prospects. Then they were down on him again.” I click on some emails not really in the mood to rehash all this family drama.
My phone dings in my purse.
“Probably Dean.” Hannah side glances Victoria.
I pull it out of my purse and sure enough, she’s right.
Dean: Glad to see the wicked witch of the Midwest is still kicking.
Me: Please I’ve tried to drown her in a bucket of water. Nothing.
Dean: LOL…need me to come over?
Me: Nah, the girls are already in my office.
I glance up at the two sets of eyes focused on me.
“I think we should go to Torrio’s tonight.” Hannah nods like it’s already a done deal.
Me: They’re talking about going out tonight.
Dean: I thought we were having a slumber party. :(
“I can call Reed. He can pick up Jade from my mom’s.”
Me: I can come over all sloppy drunk and you can take advantage of me.
Dean: I prefer you coherent, but thanks for the offer.
Me: Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. Sometimes I forget that I shouldn’t bring up drinking with you.
Dean: Don’t apologize. Part of sobriety is having to deal with the fact that everyone else in the world is not an alcoholic.
Me: You sure?
Dean: Definitely. Now what about tonight?
Me: I’ll have to get back to you.
“Why don’t you invite Reed and Chelsea can invite Dean?”
“What about you?” Victoria asks.
Me: Hold up. You might be getting an invite.
Dean: I’m not crashing girl’s night.
“I’ll be fine. If we’re at Torrio’s, I know plenty of people.”
Now Victoria’s gaze flickers to mine because I guarantee you we’re on the same page here—the silver fox.
“Cool. I’ll go text Reed.” Victoria slides out the chair and leaves my office.
“What do you say? Ready to let Dean come out and play?”
I drop the phone on my desk. “What does that mean?”
Hannah tilts her head in her classic, ‘you’re not a moron, you understand exactly what I mean.’ “You’ve been hiding him from everyone like he’s your mistress.”
“Technically, he’d be my… what would he be called?”
Hannah chews on the inside of her cheek, thinking.
“Misteress?” I offer.
“That’s lame.”
“Bushdog?”
She laughs.
“Fuck boy?”
She points her finger at me. “I’m not sure I care what that word is, but I like that one. God knows they have enough derogatory names for a woman who enjoys sex.”
“Masteress?”
“That sounds more like a dom. Not to mention I would never give a man the satisfaction as having master part of his name.”
“Oh, forget it. Dean’s not one of those anyway.”
Hannah snaps her fingers. “Manstress.”
I nod because she’s probably got it right. I lean back in my chair my thoughts heading in another direction. “Do you find it funny that there are all these names for women who sleep with married men, but none for the actual married man and none for a man who sleeps with a married woman?”
“Yet another example of why I started RISE. When I was getting divorced, Roarke Baldwin tried to find out if I was cheating. He had me followed, pictures of every man I had come into contact with since my separation came up, twisting the truth to try to get me to admit to something that wasn’t true. But Todd? Nope. My lawyer had hotel receipts for a room every Thursday. My lawyer had pictures of him groping her in public, them having sex in a lingerie changing room.”
“Ew.”
She nods. “But Illinois and their no-fault bullshit. Somehow Mr. Baldwin took me for more than that son of a bitch should’ve ever gotten.”
“I’m sorry, Hannah. I know I joke about you liking him. But I realize now why you must loathe him.”
She chews on the inside of her cheek again, her eyes darting around until they land on me briefly. “I do,” she says simply.
My phone vibrates on my desk.
She shakes her head as though the vibrating has stopped her train of thought. “Anyway, check with Dean. I’m going to call ahead and see if I can get us the curtained-off room.”
I’m giddy with excitement. It’s like Hannah’s got connections to the latest boy band and I’m thirteen again.
“Thanks, Hannah.”
She walks out, and I pick up my phone.
Me: You’re coming out with me tonight. It’s a speakeasy though. That okay?
My shoulders sway back in forth. My mood ten times better than after my mom threw her little tantrum.
Dean: I’d rather be coming inside you on my bed. And yeah, that’s fine.
Me: I never said that couldn’t be arranged.
Dean: Tell me more…
Instead of telling him anything, I place the phone between my legs under my desk and snap a picture. It’s teasing, clearly showing the opening of my legs with a triangle patch of my black satin panties visible.
I click send.
Dean: It’s so unfair, you can send me a pic with your clothes on and my dick goes as hard as granite. Am I supposed to send you an outline of my dick? Somehow, I don’t think it’ll have the same effect.
Me: That’s what you think.
A minute later my phone dings and sure enough, it’s the shape of his hard dick outlined in his boxers.
My mouth waters.
Decisions, decisions.
Torrio’s or Dean’s…
Can’t a girl have both?
* * *
Dean and I stand at the end of the alley where you enter Torrio’s. Trying to look inconspicuous waiting for Hannah, Victoria, and Reed. His back is to the brick building, his hands on my hips, our lips attached.
Ever since this afternoon, I can’t seem to get enough of him.
“I wanted to clear something up,” he says, his hands sliding up and down my hips.
I rest my chin on his chest. “What?”
“This afternoon, I said I love you.”
“Oh.” My heart speeds up in my chest.
He shakes his head before I can say anything. “I just want you to know I meant it.” One hand tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “It wasn’t some declaration after an orgasm that I didn’t mean. I’ve never stopped loving you. I know we’re taking this slow and I don’t want to rush, but I didn’t want you thinking I said it just because my mind was in overdrive.”
I lay my cheek on his chest. The V-neck t-shirt he chose to wear is soft and edgy just like him. Most men will still be in suits, but I know he doesn’t care. His confidence never left him.
; His arms tighten around my waist and I still don’t say anything.
Staring up at him again, I kiss his jaw.
“I love you, too. I thought that love died, but it never really did. It was laying dormant. Waiting.”
“Did you just compare your love for me to the state of a volcano?”
I slap his stomach lightly. “No. It just means inactivity.”
“That’s comforting. Can I tell our love story like that?” he pauses. “Chelsea said during our five years apart the love she had for me was inactive until I popped back into her life.”
I giggle like the school girl he turns me into. “It doesn’t sound that bad.”
“Let me give you my rendition.” Again, he pauses for dramatic effect. “I loved Chelsea from the first moment I saw her on a bar stool laughing with her friends. I had to eat the hottest wing they had and not drink anything for five minutes, but I’d do it all over again. The first time I told her I loved her, I didn’t know that I’d never be able to live without her. After my shaking hand signed the divorce papers delivered to me the morning after a binge, one would’ve thought it was over. But the seed of love was planted when we were barely adults. We starved that tree after only a short few months. Still, someone was watering that tree because it grew a little every year. It wasn’t until five years later when I held her in my arms again that the branches grew, and leaves budded. People would say it’s beautiful now, but I think it was just as beautiful when it was only a seed planted into life’s soil.”
Tears fill my eyes. His thumb swipes one away before it slips off my cheek to his t-shirt.
“But you’re right, that whole love was inactive line is the better of the two.” He smiles, and I swat him again in the stomach.
I rise to my tiptoes, planting my lips to his and when I pull away, I stare into his eyes. “I love you, Dean Bennett.”
His palms mold to my hips. “Enough for a dresser or a drawer?”
I smile at his humor and fall back down to my heels, wrapping my arms around his stomach, holding on for dear life. Pretty soon fate is going to want us to water that tree again.