Love Me Now (Encounters #4)

by Fifi Flowers

  I knew in an instant when our time was up by the sound of fast clattering from little shoes on the hardwood floors. And then there they were, my girls; Victoria standing still smiling watching as Cupcake ran in, all excited, to tell us about the Nutcracker ballet performance she had just seen. And though I really wanted to talk to Victoria, I couldn’t turn away from my very excited little girl. I could tell she loved filling me in on all of the things I possibly missed while napping through the performance I had attended myself, at about her age.

  Caught up in Cupcake’s dramatic narrative and animation, I watched my mother and Victoria disappear. Girl chat, I imagined, and hoped that it was nothing heavy, nothing too incriminating about me either—childhood stories mother loved to embarrass me with. Yes, I just hoped that she was simply telling Victoria about all of the things that she had bought for Cupcake, steering clear away from the gossip-rag information that she had read earlier. Hearing that news from my mother would certainly make her feel uncomfortable… not that hearing it from me would be any better. That is if she didn’t already know. But how could she hear breaking news since she’d been in a darkened theatre for hours—unless someone contacted her.

  And by the content look on her face, I would bet that she knew nothing and that my father was right, we needed to talk logically. I also needed to tell her that we had a mutual acquaintance and about what I had read along with what I already knew about her from him. Of course, it was important that I didn’t sound accusing or jealous. But even without knowing for certain anything about their relationship, I had to admit I was jealous of anyone and everyone that got to spend time with her. I wanted her all to myself and hoped that she wanted the same with me. I was all hers and Cupcake’s.

  “Daddy, can you believe that the rats are giant and danced. I think you would like it. I heard boys say that was the best part.” I laughed, relating to their comments.

  “I bet I would too,” I agreed and then we were interrupted by movers who needed to be paid. Lifting up Cupcake for a piggyback ride, we set off to help the guys finishing up, and then went around the house looking at my stuff installed in their home that I was a bit uncertain about until Victoria and I spoke.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Victoria…

  “Oh my God! No, no, no! This cannot be happening!” I muttered and gasped after nearly choking on a glass of white wine compliments of Mrs. Granger… I mean, Phyllis as she has reminded me.

  “What’s wrong, Mommy?”

  I guess, I was a bit louder than I thought. And thank God that Phyllis had gone off to the powder room. I never even watched the E Channel, it was a shock to see it appear as I turned on the television to begin with, and then to see myself in full color—holy shit!

  Then it hit me! Nick’s mother had been really interested in my St. Davine Interior business and that it was located amongst many celebrities. Did I work with them? Yes, I did but, of course, those jobs like all of them—including non-celeb clientele—were strictly confidential unless they chose to display my expertise in a publication. She understood that perfectly since her husband and son worked within the entertainment business. Her questions were more toward interesting things happening without disclosing names. Any out of the ordinary requests, involvements? She said the law firm stories she had heard over the years were not exciting at all—who wanted to hear about legal contracts—and she stopped asking her husband. However, seeing inside of a celebrity home was a whole other topic, and I agreed with her that color palettes and decor overruled torts and contracts.

  But after seeing my face and hearing the E-News crew speculating about who was the mystery woman that had captured Stanz’s heart, I had a sneaking suspicion that Mrs… Phyllis had tuned into that channel. That she was seeking some validation to the story that was most definitely not true in any way, shape or form. Those were old photos from almost a year ago. So whomever he was shopping for, was most assuredly not me. And not to mention, they were innocent photos of us together discussing designs and plans. If the photographers were to pan down, they would’ve seen various paint color chips, magazine clippings, fabric swatches, and even some blue prints for an addition and relocation of walls. Business meetings between a client and a designer who liked neutral territory with the rocker who had propositioned me and Gracee on two occasions. Moving past that, the kiss was nothing more than Stanz telling me that I was utterly brilliant in his charming English accent. But I was not interested in anything other than saving his house from his ghastly throwback-to-the-seventies ornamentation so that Gracee could put the house on the real estate market. Mrs. Granger had nothing to worry about, there was only one man in my life that had my heart…

  “Nick, oh my God!”

  I suddenly felt a bit sick and I needed to calm down—I could tell that I was scaring my little Sugarbug as she was patting me. I had to reassure her that I was okay, not have her trying to sooth me. Taking her into my arms, I nuzzled my face in her hair. She always smelled so sweet and wonderful, vanilla cake and peppermint.

  “I’m fine, Sugarbug. I just saw something that upset me a little bit.”

  “Daddy is okay, too, but he’s a bit sweaty and dirty.”

  She laughed and pulled away, looking at me a bit funny with a wrinkled nose. I may have had a strange look on my face too—I was still getting used to hearing her calling him Daddy. He seemed to light up every time he heard it.

  “He’s been working to make the house special for us. That’s what Grampa said and he told me that Daddy is taking you out so I get to pick the pizza toppings and I told them about the Sprinkles cupcake machine when they said we could get dessert too.”

  “Sounds good.” I said a bit stunned by the plans that were being made behind my back as that was the first I’d heard about us going anywhere. I thought that we would be relaxing… something was definitely up and I was certain that it involved false information leaked to the press.

  Then before my mind could wander off any further, Nick appeared.

  “Victoria, my parents said they’d watch Nicolette tonight and give us some time to ourselves.”

  He knew! He had to have seen the gossip crap—he’d never called me anything more than Sugar and our daughter had been Cupcake since their first morning making pancakes together. And he was less than enthusiastic about showing what he had done with all of his things. So unlike the man that was so hell-bent on moving in and making a home with us.

  Time to set him straight. He had to believe me that I would never be with Stanz.

  “Sounds good,” I said quietly, feeling a bit uneasy as I stood to leave the room. “Let me get Sugarbug changed… and me too. We’ll be right back.”

  Exiting with Nicolette gave my mind a rest as I set about helping her out of her fancy dress, tights and shoes. And, of course, listening to her talk about how good the house looked with our Christmas decorations back along with our new furniture. I had to agree with her, his things that were visible did fit in very nicely—there were still several things in boxes being stored in the first floor guest rooms and in the library. It amazed me how quickly the movers got things situated, if someone were to walk in they would think everything had been in its place for years.

  After I got her ready, instructed her to be a good girl, and kissed my Sugarbug goodbye, she skipped off back downstairs I made my way into the master bedroom. Entering the room that had once housed my tiny double bed, gone was my minuscule furniture. In its place was Nick’s big beautiful sleigh bed with new bedding that had not been in his apartment bedroom. The linens had been replaced with a less masculine pattern, no more Ralph Lauren plaids—instead hotel chic. I had to admit that whomever had selected everything, did a fantastic job.

  “Do you like it?” Nick’s voice asked softly.

  “I love it,” I answered with a nod.

  “Good,” he said, moving closer before moving toward the master bath. “I’m going to take a quick shower and then we’ll get going. We have a reservatio
n at BOA, if that works for you.”

  “I love their grilled shrimp cocktail.” I smiled as he continued into the bathroom. Wow, it was real. He was real. He was starting the shower and if I stepped forward I could probably see him removing his clothes and walking in, naked.

  Shaking my head to free my naughty thoughts, I moved to my walk-in closet and nearly stumbled backward. My closet was no longer half empty; filled with his fancy custom suits, silk ties, and other clothing. Opening various drawers opposite of my own, I saw that his boxers, socks, t-shirts and more occupied each one. It didn’t get more official than that—we were living together under one roof. What I had imagined every day since moving to LA and even more so since buying this house. I saw our little family playing outside in the backyard and spending hours indoors throughout the house. It was real; his things were everywhere—upstairs, downstairs, hidden and visible.

  Getting my head around it, done with my snooping, I removed my theater-going pantsuit and heels. Then looked through my own clothing for something more casual. Selecting a tight pair of black jeans and a winter-white, shoulder-less sweater, I grabbed shoes and headed to a new chair in the master bedroom—one that I had seen in his apartment. It was real! He was real! And oh how real he was, I thought, as I was stopped dead in my tracks when Nick appeared before me wrapped in nothing more than a towel, slightly damp. He looked nothing like I remembered. He, of course, was fit and gorgeous back when I first met him, but he had greatly improved over the years. His lean, muscular body of twenty-three had increased in mass; more pronounced pecs were perfectly sprinkled with chest hair, broader lats, cut abs and that nice v-design over his hips and pointing down below the towel to a nicely outlined package. I had not seen him in less than a t-shirt and boxers since he had come to reside in the house. I had felt his body up against mine, but the treat of seeing it up close and unwrapped was even better than my imagination. It was obvious that he used his gym equipment which he had set up in the apartment over the garage.

  “You use it,” I mumbled, not for him to hear.

  “I beg your pardon, I use what?” With the smirk proudly displayed on his face, I was certain he knew that my words were directed at his perfection. “Didn’t you ever hear that it’s not polite to stare? It makes people feel uneasy…” He didn’t finish his sentence and moved out of my view, into the closet.

  He had me wanting to follow him, rip off the towel and sink to my knees. His throat clearing, brought my thoughts back to a G-rating as he reappeared dressed in jeans, a fitted black t-shirt, dark brown dress shoes and a herringbone jacket. I wasn’t sure which outfit suited him best—birthday suit or casual yummy.

  “You look beautiful.” Those could’ve been my words, but they were Nick’s as he held out a hand to me as I sat gawking at him and I took it. Raising up from the chair, I hoped that he would’ve taken me into his arms, but he didn’t and I was reminded as to why we were going out to dinner, just the two of us.

  Arriving at the somewhat dark restaurant, we were seated and he immediately ordered a couple of drinks along with the shrimp I had spoken about back at the house. Luckily, we didn’t jump right into the fire, not that it should be a big deal, though it looked like something more. It was nice to simply begin with questions about what had taken place in each of our lives during the day while we were apart. A typical conversation between couples: How was your day, dear? Good, how was yours? And though we could’ve gone on and on and avoided what had both of us dancing around the elephant in the room, it was me that spoke up.

  “I’m guessing that you saw photos and wanted to discuss… ask what’s going on between Stanz and I?” I finished my questioning introduction with a healthy size gulp of my specialty cocktail that nearly had me coughing.

  “Well, he is my client and I wasn’t surprised by his news. However, I was a bit shocked by the photos.”

  “He’s your client? He’s my client… and nothing more.”

  And that was the truth as I went on to explain our client-designer relationship which was over for the moment unless he hired me again. Last time Stanz had any contact with me for work, it was over the phone while he had popped over the pond (as he put it) to see his mum in jolly-ol-fucking London. He asked me if I would pop round and spruce up his tree since he had no idea what to do with a green one—usually he got a white flocked one that came with red dingle-jingle balls and Hollywood-fucking-tinsel (more of his words). I agreed to help him after letting me know his assistant would help me out. He didn’t even mention how he would like to lick the sweet-savory-fucking-scent off every inch of my skin before burying himself in my sweet creamy middle of goodness. That’s the clean version of his usual words. But seeing as they were omitted from our conversation, it was obvious to me that he had moved on and was torturing some other soul with his flowery poetry. Of course, in my explanation for Nick, I left out Stanz’s colorful verbiage.

  “The photos taken of us at cafes were nothing more than business meetings. If the paparazzi had scanned down or taken a closer shot they’d see that we were looking at plans, color swatches, magazines… You get the idea. And seeing as Stanz is your client, you also know he is quite animated… I’m not sure about the kissing and hugging part, but it was innocent and on the cheek.”

  “Yes, I am well aware of his antics and I have been kissed and hugged by him on quite a few occasions.” We both laughed and I was surprised by Nick being privy to Stanz’s exuberant passion for his fellow man.

  Once we got that out of the way, I felt so much better and we went on to order dinner. And then as I watched the attention Nick attracted from the various females that walked by our table and served us that I realized we hadn’t really talked about his possible dalliances over the last seven years. Not that he needed to confess to me, but maybe before our relationship progressed any further, maybe a series of tests should be administered to him. Brave enough to put my own cards on the table, I brought up the questions that were eating at me and he was quick to divulge and appease me.

  “Never with another woman. Never even gave it a thought until recently. With my parents coming for the holiday, my mother telling me, ‘it’s enough, time to move on,’ and not going to Mammoth, I felt like a big life altering change was about to happen. Little did I know that it would be you and Cupcake. So I decided that maybe I was finally ready to meet someone new… let someone in. Going to Chicago to see Pierce, I thought I would test the waters.”

  “Perfect place for the professional playboy to take you out to cruise women.”

  “Oh no! He’s been tamed. He’s a different man.” The look on my face, had Nick laughing a bit as he continued to defend his friend. “I know, hard to believe.”

  “Very.” I snickered. He was such a flirt, boasting that he was never getting married but happy to share himself with the ladies. And from the stories that Nick had told me about Pierce, it was hard to believe. But I guess when the right one comes along, all bets are off.

  “He is so into her that he failed to entertain me at all when I was in town doing him a favor for her. So left alone, I treated myself to a good meal and while I was there I saw a woman I’d seen at the airport—maybe she was another sign, I thought. And I was right, she was! Turned out that her name was Vicky and though she looked the total opposite of you, there was no way that anything would happen between us or with anyone. I still had hope!”

  Hope. That was what I had for years, too. Strange that…

  “You have to read this text from my assistant, I don’t make this stuff up about her.”

  Breaking News: Stanz called from Paris with love of his life as he refers to her and yes, he is planning to pop the question. Faxed him the pre-nup with her name, and don’t worry it’s not your baby mama’s name.

  “I know you can’t make her up. She’s one of a kind,” I said shaking my head laughing along with Nick. “I love the line assuring you that I’m not with Stanz in Paris.”

  “Oh no, another one’s coming in�
� hold on to your seat.”

  Played elf and had packages wrapped. Yes, St Nick, had! I didn’t think you would appreciate my dazzling ribbon tying ability or I should say disability. Add that to my non-abilities skill list. Cutting out early tomorrow. I can go out of my way and deliver them or you can be the perfect boss and pick them up.

  Her message was rather bland compared to her usual speech, verbally or written according to Nick. I had to admit that hearing her speak was much more entertaining. As he agreed with me and asked if Cupcake and I would accompany him to his office, he quickly sent her a message that we would stop by in the morning. He wanted to introduce us to Lulu properly while collecting gifts he had ordered for his parents once he knew they were invading his Christmas plans. He said he usually mailed them holiday treats that his mother served during the festive season to her guests along with something special for each of them. With big changes, he had cancelled and reordered.

  He was right, there were definitely enormous changes in both of our lives for Christmas and beyond. I was thankful for him coming back into my life but I wasn’t certain I would’ve changed a thing. Of course, having Nick in our lives always would’ve been easier in many aspects and then again, maybe not. We were both young. We were both starting out in our careers. He needed to finish law school and I had to try my hand in the advertising world. Maybe we would be in very different places; unable to make it together, sharing custody of Sugarbug. I guess that could still happen, but something told me that we would make it. We had both waited seven years for each other—who does that?