by Love, B. T.
Thankfully I had her boss Vin on my side though. That guy tried so hard to impress me that it bordered on being irritating. It worked in my favor for this situation at least, because he made Amber have to basically do anything I wished while in the restaurant, including having dinner with me. I didn’t necessarily like how that made me appear but it was honestly the only way I could get her to actually sit down and see me as the person I really am. She tried to offend me, calling me an asshole and treating me quite rudely. It only made me smile, though. I was completely baffled by her; no woman had ever treated me like that. It was actually nice for a change, having someone treat me like a normal person.
I learned a lot about her at that dinner, including her love of flipping furniture. We talked about our exes and I took a mental note to make sure I wasn’t anything like hers. I took her home afterward and was baffled by her apartment and the condition it was in. But when I looked at her and saw her face when she talked about how she envisioned it looking, I realized once again that she was a different type of woman. She wasn’t even interested in my money. She wanted to take care of herself, to fix her apartment up her own way, and that was incredibly sexy to me.
I broke down her initial opinion of me day by day, stripping down the floors in her apartment while secretly wishing I could strip the clothes off of her body. But it wasn’t only sexual attraction I had for her. Our minds were so much alike. Even our sense of humor was the same. I was falling hard for her, harder than I had ever fallen for another woman.
That’s why I was afraid to tell her about the business I was in. I mean, she obviously knew what I did just based on what people told her about me. But to actually discuss it with her was like I was digging my own relationship grave. She was a good girl, and technically speaking I was a bad guy. A bad guy with a heart of gold. I just needed her to see that.
So I took her to my family’s rose garden. The reality of who I was caught up to her on that trip and she almost made me take her home. Almost. I persuaded her otherwise and ended up spilling some of my business dealings to her. Not much though. But it was worth it, because by the end of that visit she begged me to kiss her for the first time. And I did. And you know what? I fell in love with her in that moment, surrounded by my happy memories and by the flowering roses in the garden. I had never been happier in my life.
And then I took her to the club. I had warned her about it, that I had things going on there that she wouldn’t approve of. My worst fear came true when she left me there, fleeing like Cinderella. I understood why though; the topless girls would piss off any self-respecting woman. But she surprised me once again by ordering me to bring them back after I fired them, saying they probably needed their jobs and the money. She always thought about other people. I loved that about her.
She took a cab home but thankfully left the fabric for her couch in my car, which gave me a good excuse to see her. After all, I needed to redeem myself.
* * *
I knocked on her door. My nerves rattled as I clutched the expensive bouquet of purple roses in one hand and the bags of fabric in the other. This evening kind of felt like it was my last chance to impress her, so I was a bit of a wreck inside. I couldn’t let her see that though, so I stood tall and confident and waited for her to open her door. When she did I smiled happily, feeling hopeful by the way she looked back at me. Maybe I hadn’t completely ruined everything. “Hi,” I said, being the first one to break the silence.
“Hi. Come in.”
I stepped inside and held up the bags. “There’s something else for you in here.”
“You didn’t have to get me anything,” she said with a smile as she took them from me. “And thank you for the beautiful roses.”
“Oh, these? These aren’t for you; Clyde got them for me,” I joked.
“Good one,” she laughed.
I sat them down on her kitchen counter. “The guy’s so obsessed with me you know.”
“Yeah, everyone is.”
“Even you?”
She turned and faced me. “Starting up with this so soon, huh?”
“Hey,” I shrugged, “you can’t blame a guy for trying, right?”
“I guess not.”
She sat the bags down and dug through the fabric for my gift. “Coffee?” she asked, holding the bag up in front of her.
“Yeah. Good expensive coffee. The stuff you drink isn’t that good.”
Her eyes rolled and my blood boiled, but not with anger. “Well I like my coffee,” she told me with a bit of an attitude.
“That’s because you haven’t tried that stuff yet,” I said, pointing to the bag. “Sometimes you have to try something new before you realize you can’t live without it.”
“Is there a double meaning implied there?”
“What possible double meaning could be implied with that statement?” I smiled.
She shook her head and looked back down at the bag. “Well I guess I’ll make us some now then.”
“I even ground it for you at home first because I wasn’t sure if you had a grinder or not.”
“That was a good call.” She poured the water and grounds in the coffee pot and then picked the roses up from the counter. “Thank you again for these. They’re lovely.”
“Lovely roses for a lovely lady.”
“And purple, too,” she said with a smile as she buried her nose in them. That smile lifted my heart.
“You do like purple,” I said.
“I’ll have to find something to put them in.” She spun around and opened her refrigerator door. “You want a pickle?”
“Not necessarily,” I laughed. “Why?”
She pulled an almost empty jar of pickles out and sat it on the counter. “There’s one left.”
“Yeah? So?”
“Well I need a vase for the roses.”
I cocked my head to the side and grinned at her antics. “You’re going to use a pickle jar for a vase?”
“Sure, why not?”
“Well, they’re long-stemmed roses . . .”
“Oh that’s not a problem at all.” She opened one of her drawers and pulled out a pair of scissors. “I’ll just trim the stems down.”
I crossed my arms and watched with amusement as she cut half of the length of the green stalks away. Only Amber would do that. “You really are an amazing woman, you know that?” I told her.
“Why is that?”
“I don’t know, I’ve just never met a woman who would butcher a pair of expensive roses like that and put them in a pickle-jar vase.”
“This is hardly butchering. I did nice clean cuts. See?” she said, holding up the ends of the stems in my direction.
I nodded with approval. “Yeah, I see.”
She opened the lid and pulled out the last pickle. “Last chance. You want it?”
“I’ll pass.”
She shrugged and took a crisp bite while pouring the juice down the drain and rinsing out the jar. “I made shredded beef tacos for dinner.”
“It smells amazing.”
“Well hopefully it will taste as good as it smells.”
“I’m sure it will.”
She filled the jar with water and placed it on the counter before sliding the shortened bouquet down into it. “There.”
“I have to admit you did a nice job. You’re good at using what you have to make things work.”
“Thanks.”
“And I like the fabric you picked out for the couch. I’m gonna have to hire you to do something for me one of these days.”
“Oh yeah? Like what?”
“I have an old chair that belonged to my dad that needs to be reupholstered. I think you’re the woman to do it.”
“Sure,” she smiled. “But I’m not charging you.”
“Why not? That’s the only way I’m able to give you any money. Well, besides tipping you at work.”
“I don’t need any money from you, Trent. I’m doing okay.”
“Yeah, I know,”
I nodded. Again, she never would let me spend money on her.
She slapped her hands together. “Well, you ready to eat?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
We spent the next hour sitting on the center of her living room floor. She was even a good cook, and I couldn’t help but imagine being married to her and enjoying a relaxed life by her side, drinking coffee and chatting about life, just as we were right then.
She took a sip of the coffee I bought her and smiled. “You’re right. This stuff really is good.”
“See? I told you.” I crossed my legs and stared down at my cup. The night before was still weighing heavily on my mind, and I just had to know where we stood. It felt as if we broke up, even though I wasn’t even for sure if we had been together or not.
“Are you okay?” she asked, picking up on the sudden change in my mood.
“I don’t know if I’m okay to be honest. When you left last night . . . I don’t know. It just really upset me. I was afraid I was never going to hear from you again.”
“I hope you understand my reasoning, why I felt I had to leave.”
I shrugged lightly. “I guess.” I lifted the cup to my lips for a drink but kept my eyes diverted from hers; I just wouldn’t be able to handle seeing her face if it gave me any idea of a negative standing in our relationship. “I gave those girls their jobs back,” I told her, changing the subject.
“Good. I’m glad.”
Awkward silence. I hated awkward silences. All I wanted to do was spill my guts to her right then and there, tell her I was in love with her. Tell her she’s the first thing I think of when I wake up and the last thing I think of when my head hits my pillow at night. But did she even want to hear that from me? There were other things that were clouding her mind, like the fact that I kept certain things about my business from her. But didn’t she realize that I did that for her safety? She can’t be deeply involved in the activity that my life is comprised of. It’s hard enough to watch out for myself, let alone the woman I loved. The part that hurt me the most about all of it was that deep down I knew she compared me to her ex. That was a relationship death sentence.
She looked over at her windows which were all open and letting in borderline-freezing air. I took the opportunity to sneak a peek at her beautiful smiling face before looking back down at my cup. “Can I tell you something?” she asked.
“Sure.”
“When I moved into this apartment everyone told me to keep my windows closed. I mean, time after time they warned me that people would find a way to get in, even though I’m up this high. I listened; I took them very seriously. But then I met you and you started coming around and talking about me around town. People link me to you and because of that they won’t dare mess with me. And you know what? Those windows are open because of you. I can actually open them and feel safe. So thank you for that.”
I looked up and locked eyes with hers. Finally there was proof of what I had been trying to tell her all along. “That’s exactly what I wanted you to see, that I’ll protect you. You don’t have to worry about people like—”
“Like your grandfather?”
“Yeah,” I sighed, frustrated that I was still being linked to his reputation. “Like my grandfather, I guess. I don’t know why you’re so afraid of him. You’ve never even met him.”
“But I’ve heard stories.”
“Yeah, I know. You’ve heard a lot of stories about me too I’m sure.”
“Not like your grandfather.”
I sat my cup on the floor and laid down on my side, propping myself up on my arm. “Listen, I’m going to be frank here. I want you. So let’s just get all this crap out of the way. Ask me whatever you want and I’ll answer so you can get over your fears and be with me.”
Much to my surprise, my words made her blush. “Whatever I want?” she asked.
“I’m an open book.”
She stared blankly at me and took a sip of coffee. “Okay,” she said, setting her cup down and leaning forward. “What kind of business are you in with Stevie?”
“Cocaine.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“And that’s all you’re involved in with him?”
“Yes.”
She took a moment to think. “Hmm. Well, you said if I were with you no one would mess with me. Stevie certainly wasn’t afraid to mess with me at the restaurant.”
I chuckled at her naivety; she still didn’t understand the difference between something really happening to her that was dangerous. “That’s not messing with you.”
“It’s not?”
“No. I mean, he had a lot of nerve to talk to you like that but that guy’s a jackass anyway. Believe me, he wouldn’t think of doing anything serious to you.”
“Oh, well, good.”
“What’s your next question? Let’s not drag this out any longer than we have to.”
“Is Trent Falco feeling the pressure?” she teased.
“Not at all,” I smiled. “I just don’t like talking business with you to be quite honest. But I’m willing to do it if it means you’ll trust me.”
“And you’re probably bummed that you don’t have a cigar . . .”
That sarcastic sense of humor of hers. God, I just wanted to make love to her. “Are you gonna sit there and make fun of me all night or are you gonna get to business and ask your questions?”
“Okay, okay.” She laid down beside me with her head propped up by her hand, our faces a foot away from each other’s, the closeness forcing me to fight the desire to lean forward and kiss her. “Cocaine,” she went on. “That’s some pretty serious stuff.”
“That makes some pretty serious money.”
“Aren’t you afraid of getting caught?”
“Nah. I have a ton of guys below me who would take the heat before I would. Stevie being one of them.” I reached out and placed my hand against her cheek. “You are so beautiful, you know that?”
She smiled and leaned into my palm. “You sure about that? I’m somehow running on zero sleep. I feel like I look awful.”
“Yeah, I’m sure. I don’t think there is ever an instance where you can look awful in my eyes.”
“Well you should see what I see right now looking at you.”
“What do you see?” I asked, stroking her cheek once more before taking my hand away.
“I see a devastatingly handsome man with incredible sex appeal.”
“Really? Well I’m glad to hear it.”
“Oh like you didn’t already know that about yourself. You should have seen the women who were drooling over you in the club.”
“Ah, that doesn’t matter,” I shrugged. “I only see one woman anyway.”
She smiled. “Speaking of the club, do you deal drugs out of there?”
“No.”
“Well I know you do business up there in that room. What is it that you do there?”
“It’s just where I discuss the cocaine operation with the other men I’m in business with.”
“Like Stevie?”
“Yeah. And I want you to be clear that I never sell any product myself. I’m at the top of the chain, not the bottom.”
“Yeah, I know. And of course you’re involved in illegal gambling,” she added.
“Is there any other kind?”
“Yes,” she laughed. “Legal gambling.”
“I guess there’s that,” I replied with a smile.
She looked down at her hands. “Someone once told me that people who have messed with the Falco family have disappeared.”
My face hardened; I knew this would eventually come up. “Who told you that?” I asked.
“Does it matter?”
“I guess not.” I sighed and sat back up, taking my cup of coffee back into my hand. “I come from a family who’s dabbled in a lot of illegal activity, dating back to the fifties. I can’t deny that people who have crossed my family have been, you know, taken care of.”
“So your gr
andpa has killed people?” she asked as she sat back up.
“Yeah.” I wished the answer was no, but I would have been lying if I’d said different. The fact was that my grandfather had had many people taken care of back in his day. It made me nervous to admit it to her. Based on how she reacted by just driving to the rose garden I was afraid she would flat out ostracize me from her apartment by telling her the truth she had just asked about.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Nothing. I just don’t like talking about this stuff. It brings back bad memories.”
“About what? Your dad?”
“That’s a big part of it yeah.”
She paused for a moment. “Trent? You said I can ask you anything, right?”
I nodded and kept my eyes on my cup. This conversation was the one I was dreading.
“I’m afraid you’ll be mad if I ask it though,” she admitted.
“I already know what your question is. I won’t be mad.”
She paused and I held my breath. “Have you ever killed someone?”
The question stung but it was one that had to be answered. I brought my cup to my lips as I recalled one of my most regrettable memories to mind. “No,” I answered before taking a sip. “But it doesn’t mean I haven’t ordered someone else to do it for me.”
“What does that mean exactly?” she asked.
I looked up at her; her expression was somewhere between shocked and confused. “What do you mean? Isn’t it pretty self-explanatory?”
“Well how about you just tell me the facts so I don’t have to try and figure it out on my own?”
“Because it’s not that simple.”
“Why not?”
“Because then you would know my business.” Ooh, bad choice of words. I knew it as soon as they left my mouth.
She crossed her arms with irritation. “Then just leave then Trent.”
“What? Why?”
“Because if you can’t be honest with me then I don’t want anything to do with you.”