Eluding Nirvana

by King, V. L.

  Greater than what it appeared outside, the thick, luxurious blood-red carpet with silver swirling scattered patterns throughout drank in my heels with every step I made. A round, mahogany reception desk sat in the center of the lobby, while rounded couches were dotted around the expanse area. Bellboys meandered around with guests, guiding them to the bank of elevators.

  I suddenly felt very self-conscious as I carefully made my way to the desk. After asking the young woman where I could find the DeLaney Constructs event, I was escorted through the remainder of the lobby, down a corridor to the far right, and into one of the function rooms.

  Stealing a deep, calming breath and exhaling through pursed lips, it was obvious that the butterflies in my gut were getting the better of me as I stood before the heavy, intricately-carved double doors at the end of the small corridor. With my wits finally gathered, I pushed the door open and was bathed by sounds of soft chattering and clinking of glasses as both architects and the construction workforce of DeLaney Constructs, gathered together in their little groups around the elegantly dressed round tables with their plus-ones. A subtle, golden glow was emitting from a beautiful crystal chandelier which hung from the epicenter of the square segmented mirror ceiling, while the bar was situated at the very far left end of the room.

  I spotted Liam the instant I traveled deeper into the room…could this even be classed as a room? I was sure many a wedding reception had happened in this very spot. He stood facing away from me as he conversed with his employees, his arms waved around, gesturing as he spoke. I didn’t need to hear what was being said to feel the passion he obviously felt about their topic of discussion.

  One of the four men in front of him had said something which I couldn’t quite hear, but the tip of his head in my direction told me that he was informing Liam of my arrival. This was the moment that I found both exciting and nerve-wracking: his reaction to my makeover, as a result of his generosity.

  Butterflies stretched out their wings in my stomach once again as I, taking well-measured steps with swaying hips and weaving between tables, closed the distance between us. When Liam turned to face me, I smiled. My eyebrows rose as my eyes widened, seeking silent approval.

  “Hey, Kady,” the men I had never met before welcomed me. It filled and warmed my heart more so, knowing that they knew of me, even if I didn’t know of them. Liam obviously talked about me while in their company.

  “Hi,” I replied quickly. And as I leaned into Liam to greet him with a kiss, my smile was wiped from my face. Wrinkles appeared quickly in the center of his brow while his eyes caught fire and the familiar tick of his jaw worked overtime.

  As the men continued to talk between themselves, Liam, with reservation, bent to kiss me on the cheek. Prickles spawned in my body when he whispered ‘what the fuck is that?’ into the hollow of my ear. As soon as he withdrew, lips were covering my own and a hand, which at that point in time was amassing my unease, roamed over my back. His brow tipped to brace against my own.

  “I thought you would like it? It’s classy, and—”

  “This is what my money buys? You’re lucky I’m obligated to stay here, because I swear to God…” His scathing statement weakened as he trailed off, and I sucked in a harsh breath, thankful that he halted his words just then. With everything I had, I stopped myself from being overridden by fear of what he would do—what he could do.

  “I’m sorry, Liam. I thought it would make you happy—”

  Like a dictator, he held his head high and defiantly reared back, making me feel inferior once again. These moments were vastly becoming common, yet I was still conflicted by how loving he was that morning in comparison to who stood before me now.

  I really needed to stop pressing his buttons.

  The left side of my face was cradled in his hand. I couldn’t command myself to look him in the eye. I didn’t have a right to, not after I had done this—not after I had made him feel this way. But when he whispered his demand that I look at him, I peeked up at the god in front of me. If he commanded that I got down on my hands and knees to kiss and lick his feet in front of everyone in that very room, I would have without hesitancy, because at that moment, I was the lesser of us and he deserved my respect.

  “You have made me happy.”

  He was making me dizzy with his rapid mood changes, yet I couldn’t stifle my moment of relief as I smiled, and each taut muscle in my body unclenched. My smile was mirrored, although unlike mine, his wasn’t genuine. It was unhinged. It was wicked…it made me panic and fight for air, my muscles straining once again as I grew guarded.

  The warmth and tenderness of his touch upon the side of my face soon became heavy. Blazing eyes alongside the sinister upturn of his lips prompted the butterflies in my stomach to attempt their great escape. “You managed to cover this.” The tone of his voice was a complete opposite of the demanding power behind his caress. I sucked in a deep inhalation, the air hissing as it passed my teeth and caught in my throat while he bore his burdensome thumb into my injured cheekbone, his smirk spreading wider.

  In a room full of approximately thirty or forty bodies, I was standing immobilized before Liam as he issued my punishment. Not wanting to cause a scene, I fought my body’s instinct to retreat.

  So what did I do?

  I closed my eyes and breathed through the tenderness as he continued to bore and roll his taxing thumb over the arch of my cheek.

  To the people of the room, Liam was issuing a compassionate, ardent gesture and I, like a loving partner, was absorbing it, relishing it. In reality, I fell into the void in my mind where I could see past the pain, past the fear—the part of me where, only yesterday, I managed to find my escape…

  As his hand swept away from my face and the pulsating of my cheek radiated into my eyeball and upper jaw, he told me to leave him and get a drink. While I made my way to the bar through the throng of individuals and white-clothed tables and chairs, I silently hoped and prayed to a higher being that what just happened was the beginning and the end of yet another penalty for my foolishness and lack of respect.

  I gestured to the young man behind the bar who was stacking numerous crystal glasses with a snowy towel draped over his shoulder. His black hair was combed over and stuck to his head with enough styling product to surely be flammable. Having been given a three-drink rule, I asked for a small white wine when I overheard a faint yet crafty whistle resonate from beside me. Craning my head, I muttered an affronted ‘excuse me?’.

  The man in a crisp white shirt, navy suit pants, and silver tie lifted a glass bottle to his lips and took a draw before setting it back onto the dark wooden surface of the bar.

  “Sorry, it’s just…” His piercing blue eyes greedily scoured my body as he shook his head with an appraising smirk. “Wow.”

  By the time my eyes drifted back to the bar, my wine glass sat waiting for me. Offering a measly smile, I wrapped my fingers around the beverage and raised it in a mock toast with an arched brow.

  “And that was the reaction I was expecting from the boss man,” I muttered morosely before caressing the rim with my lips.

  “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I hear he’s taken.”

  “I know.” I freed the chilled glass of my grip and leaned into folded arms which were resting on the edge of the bar. Peeking back at the man beside me, I sighed. “I am she.”

  Incredulous, widened eyes gaped back at me, his hand fisted into his light brown hair, causing it to stick up in an attractive, disheveled kind of way. His stubble-coated mouth curved as he offered a smile which dripped with ample embarrassment and showcased straight, white teeth. It was adorable.

  “Oh, Jesus Christ, I am so sorry. Here, let me buy you another drink.”

  “It’s okay, no offence taken,” I snorted as he gestured to the bartender to get me another drink. Over the brim of my recovered wine glass, my eyes narrowed. “Are you new?”

  The top of his glass bottle lingered on his full, pale lips. When he drag
ged it away, he nodded. “Aye, just been signed for this Williamson contract. Who knows whatever’s after that?”

  I smiled briefly at his accent. It was gentle. It was pleasant. It was enthralling.

  “Well, let me be the first to welcome you aboard on the contract.” I held my hand out politely. “I’m Kady Jenson.”

  Staring into ocean-blue eyes, I saw the corner of his mouth twitch, giving way to a tiny dimple in his left cheek. His shirt tightened over his chest as he breathed heavily. The rough skin of his palm grazed as he wrapped it around my own. “Walker.”

  “Mr. Walker, it—”

  I was cut short by a low, deep chuckle vibrating from his throat. “No mister. Just plain Walker,” he corrected me.

  “Walker,” I tentatively tested the name on my pallet. “Unusual name.”

  “About as unusual as finding an Irishman in Boston, eh, Kady?” I was completely thrown by the way my name fell from his mouth. The way his tongue rolled over the ‘D’, making it sound like ‘Katy’ was both warming and sensual. It made me smile—a genuine smile, one that touched my eyes and had the shy sophomore I was in high school resurfacing.

  “Fair point,” I whispered then motioned my glass in a toast. “Well, welcome aboard, Walker. I am sure they’ll find a good use for you.”

  An elegant clink chimed as the neck of the glass bottle in his hand collided with my wine glass. “Aye, I’m sure they will, darlin’.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  As Walker and I stood talking for a little while at the bar, my body shuddered and bristled. In the back, a sharp stabbing sensation followed by worrisome warmth told me that Liam was casting those menacing, silver daggers in my direction.

  By the time I’d silently counted to eight, possessive arms came to snake around my narrow waist. I was drawn back against his immaculately dressed, hard body and a kiss on my temple was planted as he staked his claim on me. I’d never felt so out of sorts as I had at that point. A ruse…that’s what it was. And I knew better than to argue with it and cause a scene.

  “Kady baby. I see you’ve met Walker, the newest of our construction team.” To anyone else his tone would’ve sounded polite and normal. To me, the way he ‘casually’ dropped the position into conversation was a way to demoralize the man. Like he was lesser of a man because of the line of work he was in.

  I knew that feeling. I knew that feeling well.

  My head craned marginally as I twisted into Liam’s hold and felt the throbbing heat of his neck against my face.

  “Yes, I have,” I murmured. I pulled my head free and gazed back at the Irishman who was casually resting his back against the wooden bar. He grasped his bottle of Bud by the neck and tipped it up to his lips. “And I think he will be an asset to the team.” I smiled.

  His pale eyes glimmered and a shy smile tiptoed across his stubble-coated mouth when his bottle was lowered from his lips.

  “You got a good woman there, Mr. DeLaney.” An unnerving sensation rapidly followed his complimenting words. My stomach roiled with hushed concern of how Liam would react to such an approval from another man.

  The gush of air, which exited Liam’s nose in a derisive snort, bonded to the side of my face. “Yes, I do.”

  My middle was left bare when possessive hands fell away from my waist only to be replaced upon my upper arms. I was twisted to face him.

  “Baby, the wives are over there. I’m sure they’re all desperate to know exactly how much that dead animal on your back has cost me.” His cunning words were a subtle directive, one which would fall blindly to anyone in our company.

  A tightlipped, dutiful grin spread across my lips. “Of course.”

  “Nice to meet you, Kady.” The pleasant Irish lilt momentarily halted my intention of turning away.

  In Liam’s mistrustful and wary company, I chanced a cautious glance at the Irishman and merely nodded. “You too, Walker,” I replied, and despite being reluctant, made my way towards the opposite side of the room, to be mauled by the plus-ones.

  Albeit contrived, I maintained my level of politeness and sociability. Pleasant smiles, high-pitched giggles, and intrigued arms were brushed along my body. Those women were vultures. You’d presume they’d never felt leather before, the way their fingertips swept over my arms and shoulders and their cooing at the way the cut hugged my figure in a sensual, although refined fashion, had bells ringing in my ears. All I wanted was to climb back under my rock and never come out.

  Words of diaper changes, late night feeds and playdates, were blended into statements of vacations, new cars, designer clothing, and someone called Marco, who apparently for a steep fee can help you drop a minimum of seven pounds in a week. Their comments and topics of discussion seemed trivial in contrast with what contemplations were enjoying the carousel in my mind. Here they were, gushing over Marco and his wonder regime and drool-worthy, athletic body, while my thoughts consisted of: how not to make Liam angry with me, how not to fuck up, how to make things right for him, and show him the respect he deserves without sticking my foot in it.

  As oblivion sang out to me and my mind wandered over the edge of alertness, the volume of the extravagant housewives of the architects of DeLaney Constructs was barely processed in my mind. That’s when I felt it.

  While the mother hens clucked on about this and that, a laser beam was shot across the room, commanding my attention as I hung my head and focused on the remnants of golden liquid swimming at the bottom of my wine glass. Only it didn’t make my body quake with fear, anxiety, or dread.

  Over the length of the room, I risked a peek and lifted sad eyes up to be met with irises so clear and crisp, it was as if the Indian Ocean was studying me. His body was somewhat angled, his right elbow rested on the edge of the bar, a dark glass bottle once again grasped loosely by the neck. The gaze made me feel heated, timid. It felt intense. It felt forbidden.

  How one simple motion of his bottle being lifted in a toasting gesture could cause the bridge of my nose to sting and tears form in the corners of my eyes, I have no idea. But it did. When his pale lips tipped into a smile, I felt my heart lurch from my chest and a bead of sweat formed on the nape of my neck. It was too effusive, too unreserved, and the familiar bubble in my stomach and chest—the bubble which always made itself known when I could sense trouble on the horizon—taunted me.

  The Irishman licked his lips and offered a deliberate wink. I had to drop my head. I desperately had to focus on something else before Liam jumped the gun and suspected the worst.

  Fifteen minutes later, everyone had taken their places at the tables. Headwaiters rounded us placing white china plates filled with Michelin star meals adorning them at everyone’s setting. Sitting next to Liam, I was caught unaware when he pushed himself out of his seat at the head of our table and tapped the surface of the glass with the edge of his fork. Until Liam opened his mouth, silence was governing the room.

  “Good evening, everyone,” he began. “I just want to make a quick speech and then I’ll let you get to your meals. I was lucky enough to have two loving parents who taught me to chase a dream. Who taught me that to make a dream a reality, you must first believe that it can be, and transform it into one. Well, I had a dream. A dream that my buildings would have a place in the skyline. As Antoine De Saint-Exupery once said, ‘A rock pile ceases to be a rock pile the moment a single man contemplates it, bearing within him the image of a cathedral’.”

  Awed by his words and how much he had achieved, I smiled up at him.

  He lifted his glass in a toast. “To DeLaney Constructs and the finalization of the coveted Williamson contract, another blip to place on the map.” Everyone followed suit, and as he lowered himself back into his seat with a rendition of ‘hear, hear’ rebounding around the room, I don’t know what I was thinking, but I took a stand. Maybe I shouldn’t have had that second glass of wine after all.

  “Kady, what are you doing?” Dutch courage had me ignoring Liam’s menacing whisper. Encasing his s
houlder with my hand, I offered a rewarding ‘trust me’ grin with a small wrinkle of my nose.

  “I’m sorry, there’s one little extra thing I would like to add to that, Liam,” I said. An expectant silence governed the room anew as my focus remained fixated on the man to my left. “Firstly, I want to say that I am totally awed by your approach and by everything that you’ve achieved in such a short time. You’ve always believed in people, I can attest to that, and giving the opportunity to others and trusting them with your work, to make a dream come true…” I shook my head. “You’re an amazing boss, Liam DeLaney—”

  “Get him to give us a raise then, Kady,” one of the construction workers called out, and a round of applause and catcalls immediately followed.

  After rolling my eyes at the dark-haired man with the smart mouth, I lifted my glass in a toast and glanced over the table at Walker, who was sitting opposite me. “And I would like to formally welcome Walker to DeLaney Constructs.”

  ‘Thank you, Kady’ the Irishman mouthed across the table, and as I lowered myself back into my seat, I set a warm, pleasant hand on Liam’s thigh beneath the table. With a world of wonderment in my eyes, I smiled at him, and as he smiled back, I knew that my words of admiration and applause had saved my ass from my earlier misdemeanor.

  It was just after 11:30 p.m. when all and sundry began to file out of The Hyperion and into their cars to call it a night. Before folding myself into the BMW, I called goodnight to everyone in the parking lot, then allowed the combining sounds of protesting leather of the seat alongside my dress to caress my ears as I twisted to recover my seatbelt and drew it across my body.

  Sliding in beside me and pulling out of the lot and onto the street, I watched the man at the side of me closely. The passing streetlamps transformed the side of his studious profile into a rapid blending of oranges before being torn away by the nightly shadows.

  “Tonight went well,” I muttered, approvingly. When he failed to respond, I set my hand on his thigh and issued a supportive squeeze. “Are you okay, Liam? You’re being very quiet considering—”