Burning Violet

by Watson, A. P.

  “A house? That is not just a house! I grew up in a piece of shit trailer in the desert, and your childhood home can hold a small army.”

  “Still just a house.”

  “Our upbringings couldn’t be more different.”

  Hunter parked the car, and I emerged, staring at what I guessed was an immaculate Tudor-style home. Snow sprinkled through the air as I pulled my coat tighter around myself.

  “Hunter!” A petite brunette woman rushed toward us with her arms held wide. “I’m so glad both of you made it!”

  “Hi, Mom.”

  Hunter’s mother hugged him tight, planting a kiss on both of his cheeks. “How was the drive?”

  “It wasn’t bad at all,” he replied.

  “That’s wonderful. And you must be Violet.”

  I smiled at her. “I am. It’s so nice to meet you in person.”

  Mrs. Desmond knocked my hand away and enveloped me in the way only a mother can. “I’m so happy you came for the holiday.” Pulling away from me, she studied me warmly. Her eyes were the exact same shade of pale green as Hunter’s. “Hunter, she’s more gorgeous than you described. You didn’t do her justice.”

  “Jesus, Mom!”

  Her head snapped toward her son. “Language,” she said sternly.

  “I’m sorry, but it’s freezing out here. Can’t we go inside?”

  “Grab the bags, darling. I’m going to show Violet to her room.”

  Hunter’s mother slid her arm around the small of my back and led me into her home. When we crossed the threshold, I gasped. I was surrounded at every turn with beautiful furnishings and Christmas decorations.

  “That’s the formal dining room.” She briefly motioned to a large room on her left. “Just behind it is the kitchen. The refrigerator is stocked with anything you could ever want, so please make yourself at home here.”

  “Thank you.”

  We climbed a grand, mahogany staircase to the second floor. Lighted garland adorned the railing. My assumptions were correct . . . just like a Norman Rockwell painting. As we reached the second floor, she motioned to the left.

  “Down that hallway is where Derek, Mattie, and little Devon will be staying. There is also a second living room on this floor if you want to watch some television.” Mrs. Desmond and I made our way to the right, down another hallway. “Alex will be in this first room on the right, and you will be in the middle bedroom here. Hunter is all the way at the end of the hall. I figured you would feel most comfortable with Hunter nearby.”

  “Yes. Thank you so much for inviting me into your home.”

  “It’s my pleasure. I know you’re the reason Hunter is here. Honestly, I should be the one thanking you.” She gave me another hug teeming with so much love, the feeling seeped through my clothes and into my blood stream. “Dinner will be served at seven. I’ll let you get settled, and if you need anything, please let me know.”

  “I will, thank you.”

  Opening the door to the bedroom I’d be staying in, a large four poster bed was the first thing to come into my view. Large windows flanked the bed on either side. I walked toward the closest window and sat on a bench that had been built into the wall underneath the glass pane. Sitting down, I watched as snowflakes drifted to the ground below. God, this would be a perfect place to read.

  No sooner than I had the thought, the door to my room flung open. Hunter stepped inside, toting my suitcase and the bag of presents I packed.

  “Where do you want me to set your things?” he asked.

  “At the foot of the bed is fine.”

  He placed my belongings on the floor and snatched up one of the presents I brought. “This one has my name on it.”

  “That’s because it’s for you, genius,” I replied, grabbing it out of his hands.

  “It looks like a book.”

  “Maybe it’s a manual on how not to be an asshole.”

  He grinned at my words and continued walking past me to a door on the far side of the room. “That would be useful.”

  “Where are you going?” I quickly set his present with the others and followed behind him.

  “To my room.”

  “Sorry to burst your bubble, but you’re not staying in here with me.”

  “Not even if I begged?” he questioned, clearly teasing me.

  “Your mother told me you have your own room.”

  “I do. But your room and mine also happen to share a bathroom.” He crossed through the bathroom and another door before he stopped. A glass shower and large tub occupied most of the space inside the bathroom. I continued behind him, moving forward into his room.

  His bedroom housed more masculine furnishings than mine, but it was still immaculate. “Is this the room you had as a child?”

  “Yeah. My mom has updated it since then, but this used to be all mine.”

  I sat on the edge of his bed. “I like it.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Your mom said dinner wouldn’t be ready until seven.”

  “What would you like to do until then?”

  “Would you mind showing me around some more?”

  “Sure.”

  Hunter gave me a tour of his childhood home. It was even more extravagant than I originally thought, but my favorite part was the fourteen foot Christmas tree which was nestled beside an impressive stone fireplace. It was unlike anything I’d ever seen before.

  Hunter and I were just about to step inside his father’s study when the front door swung open. Alex was the first person inside, and he was quickly followed by who I suspected to be Derek, Mattie, and Hunter’s nephew, Devon.

  “We finally made it!” Alex called out. He sprinted forward to hug Hunter.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” Hunter replied.

  “Me too. And Violet is here as well!” Alex lunged for me, wrapping me up in a quick embrace.

  I laughed as Alex set me back on the floor. “It’s good to see you again.”

  “And Hunter returns home in time for Christmas.” A man with hair as dark as Hunter’s smiled.

  “Hey, Derek,” Hunter said, returning his brother’s smile. “You know I wouldn’t miss Christmas.”

  “I hope not. And who is this?” Derek asked, shifting his attention to me.

  “I’m Violet. It’s so nice to meet you.” I held out my hand to Derek. His eyes weren’t the same pale green as his brothers’ eyes; rather, Derek’s irises were a deep brown.

  “It’s nice to meet you too. And this is my wife, Mattie.”

  A young woman moved toward me, boasting a small child on her hip. She slid her free arm around me, half hugging my body. “I’ve heard so many wonderful things about you,” she stated with a huge smile.

  “I’ve heard the same about you,” I replied. “And you must be Devon.”

  The little boy turned away from me, burying his face against his mother. “Usually he isn’t this shy,” she explained. “Devon, won’t you say hi to Violet?”

  “Hi,” he mumbled, his face never moving.

  “Hi there,” I replied.

  “Let me have him,” Hunter said, reaching for Devon.

  “Uncle Hunter!”

  “You want to go for a ride, little man?”

  “Yeah!” Hunter placed Devon on top of his shoulders and began spinning in a circle. “Daddy, look!” the little boy called out, his laughter filling the space around us.

  “Woah, buddy! How did you get way up there?”

  “Uncle Hunter!”

  Hunter spun around a few more times before stopping and moving to stand next to me.

  “Hey, little man, why don’t you say hi again to my friend Violet?”

  “Hi,” Devon mumbled again.

  “Hi, Devon,” I said softly. “Are you excited for Christmas?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What did you ask for Santa to bring you?”

  “A toy twuck!”

  I smiled at the way he pronounced the word. “Oh, wow, that’s a good choice!�
�� Suddenly, Devon leaned away from Hunter and reached for me. His arms caught around my shoulders, and I held onto his waist, steadying him with my hip. “That was such a good hug! Thank you.”

  Devon smiled and combed his fingers through my hair. “Your hair looks like my mommy’s.”

  I glanced in Mattie’s direction, only to discover she, Hunter, Alex, and Derek were all watching Devon and me. “Yes, it does. And you have dark hair like your daddy.”

  “Yes.”

  Mrs. Desmond was the next person to join our gathering. “I’m so glad all of you made it! The snow is really starting to come down out there,” she announced. “Dinner is ready and on the table. I hope everyone came hungry.” She took her time greeting everyone with a hug.

  “Where’s Dad?” Derek asked.

  “He’s on his way home right now. He said for us to start without him,” she answered. “Devon, do you want to come sit beside Nana?”

  “No. I wanna sit with her.”

  Hunter leaned over my shoulder, the side of his jaw barely grazing my cheek. It was a simple touch, and yet my heart began racing as if I’d just completed a marathon.

  “Do you like Violet, little man?” Hunter asked.

  “Yes.”

  I carried Devon into the dining room and placed him in the booster seat next to my chair while Hunter sat down on my left. A large roast occupied the center of the table while dishes filled with mashed potatoes, green beans, and dinner rolls surrounded it. The entire setting looked as if it’d been ripped out of a holiday magazine and plastered onto the wooden tabletop.

  I bent closer to Devon and pointed to the food. “Show me what you want on your plate.” He seemed to point in every direction, and I quickly filled Devon’s plate with everything he wanted. “There you go.” Mattie brought a plastic fork and cup for him to use, and within seconds, Devon had more mashed potatoes on his face than his plate.

  A hush settled over the room as everyone loaded up their plates with food. We’d only been eating for a few minutes when Mr. Desmond arrived. He swept inside and kissed his wife on the cheek before taking his place at the head of the table.

  “We’re relieved you made it, Dad. Mom said it was starting to get bad out there,” Derek said.

  “Believe me, I’m glad to be home. The roads were covered by the time I reached the house,” Mr. Desmond replied. Out of his three sons, Hunter looked the most like his father. The dark hair and full lips were practically the same, but unlike Hunter, Mr. Desmond’s eyes were a deep brown, much the same as Derek’s. His hawk-like stare shifted to me. “And you must be Violet, Hunter’s secretary.”

  “I am. It’s so nice to meet you.”

  “My wife speaks very highly of you. I think she mentioned that she talks to you more than she does any of our sons.”

  “It’s so true!” Mrs. Desmond cried. “Violet always makes time to talk to me, unlike the three of you.” Her attention focused in on Hunter, Alex, and Derek.

  “At least we’re all here for Christmas. Doesn’t that count?” Alex asked.

  “And what about Thanksgiving?” Mr. Desmond asked icily.

  Dabbing the corners of my mouth with a napkin, I replied, “Well, in Hunter’s defense, he does keep a breakneck pace at the office, so I do have more time to talk than he does.”

  The muscle in Mr. Desmond’s jaw ticked uncomfortably. “I see.”

  A soft poke on my arm served as a welcomed distraction. “I eat my green beans,” Devon shouted.

  “What a big bite!” I handed over his cup of milk and waited while he took a sip. “Did you get that big bite down?”

  “Yeah.”

  A warm hand settled on my thigh. “I can’t take you anywhere without another guy trying to steal you away.” Hunter’s breath tickled my neck as he whispered in my ear.

  “That’s not true.”

  Devon tugged on my sleeve again. “Watch!” he ordered. He took another bite of food and washed it down with more milk.

  “Good job!”

  “See what I mean?” Hunter asked, leaning closer. “I am vying with my four-year-old nephew for your attention right now.”

  I laughed at his comment, garnering the attention of Hunter’s father. Mr. Desmond glared at me, clearly noting my close proximity with his son. We were only talking, so what the hell was his problem?

  “Violet, from what I hear, you aren’t close with your family.”

  I coughed loudly and sucked down a long drink of water. “I’m not. But I am so grateful you and Mrs. Desmond opened up your home to me for Christmas.”

  “Of course.” His superior tone made me want to gag. What an asshole. “Why aren’t you close with them? It’s strange for a person to not spend such a big holiday with their family.”

  “Umm . . .”

  “Not to mention, joining your boss for Christmas . . .”

  Well, there was no mistaking the implications lacing that comment.

  “Dad,” Hunter bit out in an irritated tone. “Your problem is with me, not Violet.”

  Everyone at the table stared at me. My flesh warmed as if I were standing near an open flame. I tried to speak, but my throat closed. Eventually, I found the courage to stand. “Excuse me. I need to use the restroom,” I whispered.

  Climbing the stairs two at a time, I hurried in the direction of my room and closed the door behind me. Reaching for my phone, I dialed Nadine’s number, anxiously waiting for her to answer.

  “Come on, Nadine. Pick up,” I muttered to myself. “Come on.”

  I let the phone ring until it reached voicemail. After leaving her a quick message, I sat on my bed and prayed she would call me back in a matter of minutes.

  It seemed I was right to be nervous about meeting Hunter’s family after all.

  Chapter Twenty

  I stood from the table so suddenly that my chair fell over, creating a loud noise followed by even louder silence. “I need to speak with you,” I spat, my glare fixated on my father. “Now.” My voice echoed around the room, and everyone jumped at the sound.

  I didn’t even wait for a reply as I stomped in the direction of his study. What the fuck was wrong with him? Taking out his anger and disappointment on me was one thing, but subjecting Violet, someone who had been nothing but polite and gracious from the moment she set foot in this house, was another thing entirely.

  Vi’s family made her life a living hell. There was no way I was going to allow mine to do the same thing.

  My father trudged inside the study as my mother scurried in behind him.

  “Both of you take a second to listen to me. It’s Christmas,” she said calmly. “Let’s go back out to the dining room and enjoy the rest of our meal.”

  “Not happening,” I replied.

  “Hunter.”

  “Mom, I love you, but you shouldn’t be here for this conversation.”

  Her eyes widened as she glanced to my father. “Darren?”

  My father didn’t even reply to her. Instead, he shifted all of his hatred toward me. “Do you really expect us to believe you brought home a woman who looks like that, a woman who works for you no less, and you’re not sleeping with her?”

  “Let me make something clear to you: who I sleep with is none of your business.”

  “It is when your philandering reflects poorly on this family!”

  “Oh, right. I forgot,” I countered. “I like to fuck my way around my places of employment.”

  “Hunter!”

  “Mom, you need to leave.” My tone was saturated with finality, and after a few moments of silence, I heard the door close behind her as she left. I really didn’t want her to hear the things my father and I were about to say to each other. My gaze narrowed in on the man standing across from me. This fight had been a long time coming, and I wasn’t about to back down. “You never once believed I didn’t sleep around in Chicago, did you?”

  “We’ve all seen the photos.”

  His sneer filled my ears. Instantly, my blood turned
cold. There was no point in arguing with this man. He was all too happy to believe the worst about me. “Of course, because those photos don’t even show the man’s face. So, it has to be me.”

  “We’re not stupid. We know you had a relationship with Ms. Galterio.”

  “No, I had a one-night stand with Talia in Boston before I ever started working in Chicago. And I never touched her mother.”

  “Pictures don’t lie.”

  “Right. Of course not.” I laughed slightly as I realized this man’s opinion of me would never change. “You can think what you want about me, Dad. I really don’t care anymore, but as long as Violet is in this house, you will not say another fucking word to her. Do you understand me?”

  “You have the audacity to speak to me in such a tone,” he seethed.

  “No, you have the audacity to pry about things you know nothing about. She’s been through enough in her life, and she sure as hell doesn’t need you treating her like she’s beneath you.”

  “Hunter—”

  “I mean it.” I slammed my hand against his desk. “Not another fucking word, or I swear to God, I’ll walk out of this house and never come back.” My voice was so loud it reverberated off the walls, shooting back at us from every direction.

  “You come in my house and toss around threats like that.”

  “It’s not a threat; it’s a fact,” I replied. “The choice is yours.”

  I stormed out of his study and didn’t slow down, not even as I passed my mother at the foot of the stairs.

  “Hunter,” she said in a soothing voice. “Talk to me.”

  “Not right now, Mom.”

  “Darling—”

  “I just need some time to myself.”

  The house was stifling. Pulling at the collar of my shirt, I headed for the front door. I had to get out of here or I was going to explode. Breath escaped from my lips like a cloud of smoke as I stepped outside. Snow blanketed everything in sight. Crossing my arms, I made my way toward the end of the driveway. Hopefully, a short walk would help clear my mind.

  What a bastard. I knew my father could be a dick, but I never suspected he would ever act like this.

  “Hunter!”

  The sound of another voice calling out for me only made me walk faster. A hand grasped mine, forcing me to turn. Violet stood before me, snowflakes melting in her long hair.