He’s right there cupping my cheek, examining my face, which has to appear just as shitty as I feel. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m not feeling so hot.” I’m not going to mention the bottle and a half of wine I finished last night. I need to sit down first before I start any sort of conversation with him.
“Let’s get you home.” He wraps an arm around my shoulder and allows me to put my weight on him as we slowly move. I rest my head on him, breathing in his scent that has become so familiar to me. If this ends badly, I know any time I come close to smelling anything like him a wrecking ball will tear me down.
Vic continually kisses the top of my head with obvious affection and concern. I’m sure he believes I’m getting ill, and at the moment I allow him to. The combination of my emotions and hangover are worse than any flu.
Once in my bedroom Vic helps me remove my clothes, despite my protests. I would have never pegged Vic as a nurturer but he definitely is. He pulls out my nightshirt and slips it over my head, his hands strictly focused on the task and not my naked body. He helps me into bed, leaving to get me water and some Tylenol.
Vic quickly removes his own clothing, naked as he slides into bed, leaning against the bed frame. He pats between his legs for me to join him. I crawl into the empty space, resting my back to his chest, his warmth soothing.
I’m not ready to ask about last night, so I point to the book on my nightstand, “Read to me?”
Without any hesitation he reaches for it, starting on the page my bookmark is.
I try not to fall asleep, but the lull of his deep voice, his accent rich and thick while he reads, comforts me in a way I haven’t felt since I was a child. I drift off, my body feeling content and safe with him around me.
I’m not sure how long I conked out for. My room is dark, no noise from anywhere in the house when I wake. I shift, finding Vic still behind me.
I move my head so I can see his face. He’s awake and looking down at me.
“How long was I out?” I feel a little guilty that he was stuck there.
“A few hours.”
“You didn’t have to stay.”
“I know.” Vic repositions us, sliding our bodies down, turning me so now my front lays over him, head on his chest. “Are you hungry?”
My lips brush against his skin when I talk, “Not really. Are you?”
“I’ll be fine.” He strokes my hair, lowering his voice, “Sleep.”
Food makes me think of dinner, which makes me think of my aching heart.
In a sleepy, grumbled voice I mumble, “How was your day yesterday?”
“Fine.”
“Did the meeting go well?”
“Somewhat.”
“Did they take you out? Food’s always yummier when it’s free.” I’m doing my best to keep it sounding casual, and so far my tone hasn’t betrayed me.
“No.”
“Bummer. Did you get to do anything last night?”
“Nothing of importance.”
Jesus. I forgot what a conversationalist he is.
“Anything yummy to eat at least?”
Vic sighs deeply, my head rising and falling with it, “Rest, Freya.”
Now what? Do I call him out on the dinner? I don’t want to accuse him of anything only to find out it was something harmless.
I close my eyes, relax my body, and concentrate on shallow breaths so I appear to be asleep. I cling to him all night, torn with what to do. By morning I’ve become agitated with his evasive behavior. Will anything ever be easy with him?
Chapter 14
At promptly nine o’clock Vic comes into the café, only meeting my eyes for a fraction of a second before going to his usual table.
I take in a deep breath and head over. He left me early this morning with a kiss on the head, wanting me to stay home and rest. I told him I was feeling better. He tried to argue. He lost.
“Morning,” I greet. I want to shout “Who was that woman? Tell me now or somebody gets hurt!” Instead I follow it up with, “The usual?”
Vic unfolds the paper, “Please.”
I usually find it amusing that we still continue our mornings in the same manner, when normally the night before he had his dick shoved somewhere in me. Today I find it annoying.
He glances up from the paper, waiting for me to say more since I’m still standing there.
“We’re out of iced tea.” I lied, we aren’t. Should I feel bad? I’m upset and I haven’t even heard his side yet, but it’s not like I’m spitting in his food.
He doesn’t skip a beat, focusing back on the paper, “Coffee’s fine.”
My heart thumps as I leave to put in his order and get him a cup. I grab iced tea instead.
Vic eyes it but doesn’t comment. He only has it refilled one more time before Maya shows up. I try not to take it personally that normally by now he would be on his third or fourth glass.
“Has he said anything?” Maya whispers around a bobby pin as she pulls her hair back.
“It’s been just like every morning.”
“Well that’s good. At least he’s not being weird.”
Very true. It does nothing to ease my mind though.
Maya’s bobby pin drops from her mouth to the ground, her hands frozen halfway from securing the hairband in place, eyes wide, “That’s her.”
I follow her gaze to the front door, where a woman has just entered with big Jackie O sunglasses, red lips, and dark hair that is perfectly groomed in big soft curls reminiscent of the nineteen-forties. She has a slender hourglass shape, her black dress clinging to every curve, her toned legs attached to red heels.
“Oh fuck,” I quietly breathe out. “You didn’t tell me she looked like that.”
“Can you blame me?”
“No. Thank you.” I wouldn’t have slept if she had told me the woman looked like some black and white film chick in a private detectives office.
The sides of the woman’s red painted lips tilt up as she removes her sunglasses, eyes aimed at Vic.
Everyone’s heads turn to follow as she makes her way to his table. Not because she’s gorgeous, which she is, but because no one in this town has seen anything like her. Not even the rich European tourists look this put together.
The sound of her heels clicking on the floor has Vic glancing up, a rare sound in here.
No sign of recognition crosses his face; it remains impartial and expressionless like always.
She slides into the empty chair across from him with the kind of grace and sophistication one is bred with.
“Shit,” I grumble.
“Yup,” Maya agrees.
They stare for a moment, then Vic folds his paper back up and places it next to his almost finished plate, “What are you doing here?”
The woman smirks, placing her black frames on the table and draping one toned leg over the other. She leans back into her chair, lazily bringing an arm to rest on the back so most of her body is facing the restaurant. Her eyes that can only be described as calculating are on Maya and I. “So which one is she?”
“None of your business,” Vic sneers under his breath, but the café has grown eerily silent and it carries through.
The woman makes a tsking noise with her tongue. It gives you a glimpse of her perfect white teeth, which appear whiter from the red lipstick, her pink tongue vibrant.
She points a red nailed finger at Maya, “Is it the bohemian one?” The woman pauses, scanning Maya up and down. I don’t know this woman so I’m only assuming, but she appears to be having fun with this, as though it’s one big game designed for her amusement. “No, she’s too obviously beautiful.” Now her eyes have landed on me, her smirk becoming Cheshire-cat-like, “It’s her.” She doesn’t point at me, but she scrutinizes me harder and longer than Maya.
“Leave,” Vic demands.
The woman motions me over, “Excuse me, can I get a cup of coffee, please?”
I don’t move. Maya nudges me out of my shock. I float
through the movements like a dream. I bring over the hot mug, thankful my hands are not shaking. That would be embarrassing. I place it down too heavily and my hand jerks from nerves, sending some splashing over the side. Damn, I was so close.
“Can I get you something to eat?” Good, that’s good. I’m proud of myself for sounding normal. I don’t look at Vic. I can’t.
“She’s not staying,” Vic is stern, leaving no room for argument.
The woman reaches for a menu on the table.
Vic’s hand grips around her wrist and they have a silent conversation that I can’t begin to understand. Vic remains stone-faced and the woman still seems highly amused by it all, like we’re having a murder mystery party and she’s deciding what roles everyone is playing and it’s all just so merry and wonderful.
She waves to Vic’s plate, “I’ll have whatever he’s having.”
“Vikki,” he warns, dropping her wrist, the skin red from his grip.
“Great,” I smile, or at least I try to but spasm a bit from the effort. This woman has me unhinged with nerves. “I’ll go put that order in.”
“Wait,” she gently places the tips of her fingers on my forearm, her touch cold, sending goose pebbles up my arm. “Can you join us?”
“No,” Vic states firmly.
That’s when I’m able to shove my nerves to the side. I straighten out my posture and give her almost as cunning of a smile as she has on, “I’d love to.”
“Wonderful.” She smiles, and it’s a cross between a cat that just caught the mouse and the cat as it’s ready to pounce on the mouse. And that’s exactly how I feel right now, like I’m about to become her next meal.
“No,” Vic states again, more firmly.
I smile far too sweetly, not looking away from the woman, “I’ll put in a double order.”
Now the woman seems even more amused, “Perfect. Shall we move to a larger table?”
“No,” Vic now demands in a voice loud enough it booms through the room.
I gesture to a four person table, “I’ll have my sister prepare it.”
I leave, wanting to have the last word. I have a feeling it will be my one and only shot.
Maya passes me. “You sure?” She says under her breath.
I give a curt nod and my sister, being the awesome sister that she is, prepares the table, helping to move over all the stuff. Vic places a firm hand on his plate when Maya tries to move it.
“Fine,” the woman says, a gleeful twinkling in her eyes. “She and I can eat without you.”
Vic grumbles something I can’t hear while he picks up his plate himself and switches tables.
I wait to join them until our food is ready. I’m wondering how the hell I’m going to get any of it down.
Maya hands over the two plates, “Wiggle your nose and nod your head if you need my help.”
“I’m not some genie in a bottle.”
She gives me a “whatever” look and a shrug.
I wiggle my nose at her for practice, because honestly, there’s a good chance I’ll need her.
She nods with a smile.
Vic is glaring the woman down and she’s watching every move I make. I’m pretty sure that she just saw our nose wiggles. I hope she can’t read lips. That would be even more embarrassing than spilling her coffee.
I place her plate down followed by my own, taking a seat next to Vic. I glance over at him, wanting him to acknowledge me, to give me some insight as to what the hell is going on. He, of course, doesn’t.
The woman begins eating her food as though it’s just another day and we do this all the time.
Vic and I stare at her.
“I’m Freya,” I say. “And you are…”
I sound more hostile than I had intended. I hadn’t wanted to be friendly but I didn’t want to come across as a jealous girlfriend either (which is exactly what I am, I’m just praying she’s not too).
She feigns surprise, placing a hand to her chest, “You mean Vic hasn’t told you about me?”
“He’s too busy fucking me to really talk much.” I can’t believe I just said that (and so coolly too).
Vic chokes on his sip of iced tea. Getting a reaction out of him alone is a feat I’m proud of, but the shock on her face makes it even better.
She leans back, arms crossed, and all amusement has vanished.
I think I just unintentionally amped up whatever game we’re playing.
I recognize her look. Vic gets the same one, their brown eyes identical right now as I look back and forth between the two, waiting for one of them to say something.
The woman takes a long drink of her coffee, eyes on me. She holds it in her hands while she talks, “Want to know how I knew it was you?” She doesn’t wait for an answer, “Besides him always picking a new girl every time, you also fit his type. Or at least at first you appear to: reserved, a little timid even, but I see why you’re different,” she sets her mug down, sitting up straighter. “You’re not really those things.” She looks to Vic, “You like that about her? That she wasn’t what you expected?”
“Yes,” he answers truthfully, unapologetically.
“You like her spirit.”
Vic now sits back and crosses his arms in the same manner she had minutes ago. I’m beginning to find many similarities between the two, both in mannerisms and features.
She takes a bite of egg, “Is she worth it?”
“Yes.”
An emotion flickers across her face. Hurt? Sadness? Disappointment? I can’t be sure. She gets up, the chair sliding out from under her. “Excuse me.” She places her sunglasses back on and walks out.
I expect Vic to go after her, but he goes back to eating his breakfast.
“Who was she?” I ask a minute or two later, still staring at the door she vacated.
“My sister.”
Chapter 15
“That was his sister?!” Maya exclaims, open-mouthed. Vic had just left and she’d pulled me into the back for privacy.
“Yup.”
Maya throws her hands up in the air, “Thank the lord!”
“Amen,” I agree.
“I’m so relieved. I was seriously shitting myself for you.”
“So was I.”
“Did he say anything more about her?”
I give her a look and raise my eyebrows.
Maya rubs her elbow, “Right, Mr. Talkative and all. Are you going to find out more?”
“I’m going to try.” I think I deserve some answers.
“Good. I’m still not sure about it all.”
Sadly, I’m not either.
After my shift I go to the employee bathroom and splash some water on my face, taking a deep breath as I soak up the droplets with a paper towel. My hips dance to one of my favorite songs coming from the kitchen. It perks up my mood. I love how music can do that, how it can uplift you and give you the confidence you’re seeking.
I head to the office where I keep my blazer. The door’s always open so I step in, moving slightly to the right. I grab the jacket hanging on one of the wall hooks.
“You’re wasting your time.”
I jump at the sound of the voice behind me, whipping around to find Vic’s sister sitting in my father’s office chair behind his desk. She’s resting back into it with crossed arms, zoning in on me.
I place a hand over my heart as it beats furiously against my chest, “Jesus, you scared the shit out of me!”
She appears not to care.
“How did you get in here?” You’d have to pass through the kitchen or front entrance in order to get back here, and she’d definitely be noticed.
Vikki ignores my question, “My brother’s not the type of man you should be in love with.”
“Who says I am?” I take a defensive stance, still wondering what she’s doing in here all stealthy and mysterious. I shouldn’t be surprised that Vic’s sister is just as strange as him.
She raises a brow in the same manner Vic would, “It’s th
e real reason I knew it was you. You looked crushed, your sister looked shocked. I knew it had to be you.”
My next words are full of bitterness, “I thought it was because I was his type.”
She smirks in that cunning way I’m beginning to hate, “Oh you are. You definitely are.”
My stomach drops at her tone. She makes me feel about two inches tall. “What are you doing here?” And get the hell out, I want to add, but don’t.
“I wanted us to get to know each other better.”
I have a feeling me getting to know her in this scenario isn’t going to happen.
“That would be wonderful.” I’m being sarcastic, of course. I can tell she knows and it only seems to make her happy. “We’re going out tonight. You should join us.”
She gets up and walks around the desk, her fingers trailing along the wood behind her, hips moving seductively. “Wonderful.”
Her matching sarcasm has me smirking right along with her.
She stops at the door, examining me, “You know, I think if my brother wasn’t so fond of you I might actually like you.”
“I wish I could say the same.”
She throws her head back and laughs, placing on her sunglasses. “I’m glad I decided to come. This is going to be fun.”
I watch her leave. She has just as good of an ass as her brother. I’m envious.
I wait a minute, needing to regain my composure before I leave.
I pull on my blazer, the day remaining chilly as I exit.
Vic is there on the phone. He hangs up as soon as I reach him.
“We’re going out tonight,” I inform him, not giving him a choice. “Your sister is joining us.”
He acknowledges me more like a business meeting is about to happen and he’s prepared, “I’m aware.”
We begin our walk to my home.
“She showed up in my dad’s office.”
“Mm. She tends to do that.”
I glance over at him, “What? Show up uninvited?”
I catch a half-smile from his mouth. “Yes.”
“She reminds me of you.”
“We’re twins,” he nonchalantly adds.
“That’s great,” I say with much intended bitterness. “It’s so fucking great that I’m just now learning about her when you seem to know pretty much everything about me. I guess that’s what it’s like to be one of the many girls you choose.”
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