by Kaye Blue
Some distant part of me noted that once again I was only half dressed, while Alex hadn’t removed a stitch of clothing.
He stepped away from me, kept his eyes on me as he adjusted his clothes.
A minute later, he looked as though nothing at all had happened, his clothing still impressively neat, his expression unmoving. The only thing that gave any hint of what had happened just minutes ago was the slight flush on his skin, and the way his lips glistened.
I was seized with an almost uncontrollable desire to kiss him, taste myself on his mouth, but I stayed where I was, frozen in place. I’d never expected to want such a thing, but then I had never been in this position before, and certainly not with Alex.
It was only when he turned and headed to what I presumed was the bathroom that I felt some modicum of embarrassment.
I’d been lying there, practically spread-eagle, my most intimate places bare for him to see, and there was no doubt that he could, not in the brilliant morning light.
Unsure of what else to do, I found the strength to move and burrowed under the soft comforter on the bed.
Then I lay still, listening to Alex move around the bathroom, the sound of water running, and then finally silence.
He reemerged from the bathroom, still looking perfect. But he didn’t slow, and didn’t even bother to look at me. Instead he walked toward the door, and suddenly I was aware that he intended to leave without saying good-bye.
It was a small thing, but I was greatly offended, knew that this situation was what it was, but that didn’t mean common manners had to fall by the wayside.
“Alex,” I said.
He paused at the bedroom door, then, after a moment in which he seemed to be considering what to do next, he turned and looked at me.
“What, Mia?” he asked, his voice tense, impatient.
“You were going to leave without saying good-bye?”
“Yes,” he responded without pause.
“No,” I said, knowing I was probably pushing my luck but not caring.
He quirked a brow, tilted his head, his question clear.
“Look…” I said, pausing on a deep sigh. Then I continued. “I get what the situation is, but I deserve a basic level of consideration and respect. And you’re going to give it to me.”
After I spoke, we stayed in silence, me in bed, trying to seem fierce even though I was pantsless and lying under a comforter still trembling with aftershocks of my orgasm while he was fully dressed and looked completely undisturbed.
I remembered our conversation from earlier, the one where he had told me that I had no leverage. It was true. I didn’t, but leverage or not, there were certain things I wouldn’t stand for, and his unspoken dismissals were one of them.
We stayed silent for so long I thought he was going to argue, but then, after several long moments, he seemed to reach a decision.
“Good-bye,” he said.
The word seemed grudging, like he had to force it out, but it was something, a victory, one of the few I could hang my hat on.
I stayed where I was, listened as he left the penthouse.
Stayed still even after he was finally gone, my body calm, but my emotions spiraling.
I should be used to this, or at the very least have expected it, but Alex’s words from earlier about keeping me on my toes came back.
It would be a lie to pretend that he did anything but, but what he did went so far beyond that.
I was still so confused about everything, wondered how things between us could be so intimate, yet so distant, so connected, yet so full of strife. It was dizzying, something that made it harder for me to keep sight of everything that was happening around me.
I wanted to think that the same was true of Alex, think that at least some of this meant something to him, but I couldn’t really tell.
I knew he was locking his emotions down, keeping a tight lid on them. But I wasn’t sure of the reason why. If disdain was all he felt, there would be no reason for him to try to hide it. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking, me trying to ascribe motives, feelings to him that had no place.
I burrowed deeper and deeper into the covers, knowing that I was no closer to figuring him out, and even more importantly wondering why I didn’t seem to be able to stop trying.
I knew all there was to know of Alex.
He was rich, he was holding a grudge, and that grudge was against me.
That was the important thing, the thing that mattered here, and twisting myself into knots to try to understand anything else would only lead me down a dangerous road. I told myself that again and again, yet some part of me couldn’t resist.
I wondered if it was an old habit, the instinct to understand him, protect him, one that felt as ingrained in me as my very breath.
I had done so for what felt like my entire life, and turning that feeling off wasn’t easy, no matter how smart it might be.
But now, it was clear to me that I had a decision to make.
I could continue down this path, open myself up to the kind of pain I had worked so hard to avoid, or I could go with the flow, pretend that none of this mattered, do my time and leave this place, and Alex, once and for all.
I didn’t know which I would choose.
*
Alex
*
For the second time I found myself fleeing Mia. I made it to my car in record time and drove away from the garage, pushed by the anxious need to put distance between us.
I didn’t like that, in fact I felt embarrassed that I was so incapable of controlling my emotions around her, but the alternative was one that was even worse. I’d done what I’d sworn I wouldn’t; I’d let the old vestiges of affection for her that I hadn’t been able to get rid of, the intrigue that I felt as I spent more time with her overwhelm my resolve.
This was about payback and pleasure, mine, not hers. But I’d lost sight of that, had seen the hurt in her eyes, the determination, when she saw that I was leaving without saying good-bye, and I’d let that touch me.
Who knew what else would have happened if I had stayed?
I sure as fuck didn’t, and at least I was smart enough not to stick around to find out.
That wouldn’t have ended well.
Even now, I could still taste her on my lips, could hear the sounds of her breath in my ears.
Even now I still wanted her.
I couldn’t help but think of what she’d said before I left, how she had demanded respect that I had been intent on not giving her.
I’d warred with that question, wanted to protest, wanted to tell her that she couldn’t ask anything of me, that she owed me, was under my control, and had no power to make demands.
But hadn’t been able to.
Again, that need to please her, that desire to see her happy was one that I hadn’t been able to ignore. And, there had been that fear, the tiny voice that I hadn’t wanted to acknowledge but that had never gone away.
She could leave.
There would be consequences. Consequences I had told her of, but if she made the choice, she’d be gone and I’d never see her again.
And after this, I never wanted to see her again. She got under my skin, pushed me in ways I didn’t want to be pushed, so not seeing her was the best possible thing. That was what I wanted, I knew that was what I wanted, but the very idea of it happening now terrified me.
It was too soon. I hadn’t gotten the escape I needed, the one I was owed.
So whatever else might happen, I couldn’t let her leave, not yet.
Frustration bubbled up, making it hard for me to concentrate, but I channeled that frustration, tried to put my mind on things that weren’t Mia.
I had a hold on this, and so far, everything had gone exactly according to plan. I should be happy, not twisting, miserable.
And besides, I had something to look forward to.
I stopped at my office quickly, stayed there for about an hour before I left to meet my cousin Marcos.
He’d arrived before me and was sitting at my favorite table at a local lunch restaurant, looking completely out of place. His black T-shirt and jeans stood out in the sea of suits and loafers, but as was the case with all things, Marcos didn’t care.
He nodded at me as I approached and then stood and gave me a one-armed hug.
“If you hadn’t shown up soon, they were going to throw me out of this place,” he said.
“I doubt it. You may not look the part, but the people here are smart enough to know that you could buy this place and a hundred like it,” I said.
“True,” he responded nonchalantly.
“How’s the family?” I asked.
My cousin, a hard man even by my standards, visibly softened at the question.
“They’re great. Rachael is starting to talk,” he said.
“Has she said ‘Daddy’ yet?” I asked.
He frowned, “No. She called me Marcos.”
I couldn’t help but smile. Never in a million years had I thought I would see Marcos wrapped around the finger of a one-year-old, but he definitely was, and in love with the woman he had found through very unconventional circumstances and happily settled into family life. It was never something I could have imagined, but it looked good on him.
“She’ll come around,” I said, reaching across the table to clap Marcos on the shoulder.
His frown deepened. “Are you kidding? Rachael is stubborn. She doesn’t do anything unless she’s ready to,” he said.
“Wonder where she gets that from?” I muttered, knowing that Marcos was getting paid back for years of being so pigheaded. He gave me a grudging smile.
“I say it’s her mother, her mother says it’s me, but we haven’t decided which yet,” he said.
I laughed, knowing that the two willful people who had come together to make Rachael each had their share of the blame.
“Well, in either case, she came by it honestly,” I said.
“That she did. You should come over sometime. My wife misses you,” he said.
I looked at him, skeptically. “I didn’t realize she was a fan,” I said.
Our relationship had gotten off to a rocky start. I hadn’t trusted her or the circumstances that had brought them together, and I’d made no secret of that. Shay had known that, and I was certain she held a grudge.
“I told you a thousand times. No hard feelings, man. We put all that stuff that happened behind us. You should too,” he said.
“We’ll see,” I said noncommittally.
“Yeah, I know exactly what that means,” he said.
But he didn’t push the issue. When the waitress came over, we ordered two burgers and fries and then Marcos leaned back in his chair, his frame on the small, wrought iron seat looking almost comically large, but the incisive expression in his eyes anything but funny.
“So how’s it going?” he asked.
“What would you be referring to?” I responded.
“Alex, I’m not one of those dipshits that you do business with. Don’t try to bullshit me,” he said.
“You think I’m trying to bullshit you. You’re the one being vague,” I said.
“So I take it this isn’t going exactly how you’d planned,” he responded.
I knew exactly what that meant. Marcos was not going to let himself get caught up in my distractions, which meant this conversation was one that we were actually going to have.
“It’s going. All the pieces are in place,” I said.
I wanted to adjust the silverware on the table, do something to excise the nerves that had sprung up from nowhere, but I stayed still, knowing that doing so would tell Marcos exactly the extent to which I was unsettled, though if I knew him, he had a pretty good idea already.
“All of the pieces are in place?” Marcos said. “Does that mean that Ms. Marshall agreed to your terms?”
“She did,” I responded.
“I gotta admit, I’m surprised,” he said.
“Why is that, Marcos?” I asked, putting ice into my voice, which Marcos ignored as though it wasn’t even there.
“I only met her once, but she didn’t seem like the type,” he said.
“When somebody’s desperate enough, they’re the type,” I responded.
“I don’t think so,” he countered.
I didn’t agree with him, but if anybody would be, it would be Mia, something that only added to that grudging respect I hadn’t been able to shake.
We both went quiet as a waiter deposited our plates in front of us, and when we were alone again, Marcos continued.
“She was pretty upright. If she’s there, I think there must be some other reason,” he said.
I didn’t respond immediately, instead focused on finishing my meal. Marcos stayed quiet too, and we finished our burgers in silence. When I was done, I wiped my fingers and then looked at Marcos, prepared to continue this conversation, though I had no real desire to do so.
“What, you’re trying to tell me that she’s a good person? That she can’t be bought?” I asked.
“You know her better than I do,” he responded.
“I knew her. Now, I don’t know her at all,” I said.
“People don’t change as much as you think,” he said. “I think there must be something else to it. But it’s your prerogative.”
I knew the last part of that sentence had been Marcos’s attempt to give me an exit, and though I should have taken it, I couldn’t make myself.
“I have her in a position where her family could lose everything. You think that doesn’t matter to her?” I asked.
“I’m sure it matters, but I don’t think it’s the thing that pushed her over the edge.”
“What are you trying to say?” I asked.
I could hear the defensiveness in my voice, but couldn’t keep it out. Marcos shrugged. “I’m not trying to say anything except maybe there’s a little more to this for her than getting her father off the hook,” he said.
“Like what?” I asked.
“I wouldn’t have any idea.”
“Now who’s bullshitting, Marcos?” I asked.
He shook his head again, gave me a quick smile. “I’m just a lowly club owner. I don’t know anything about the world of the elite,” Marcos said.
“Don’t try that crap,” I said.
“I’m not trying anything. I’m just saying the woman might have reasons that don’t have anything to do with money,” he said.
He went quiet then, as did I, allowing his words to try to sink in. I instantly recoiled against them, wanted to fight the very idea, but my mind wouldn’t let me.
I wouldn’t give myself hope, wouldn’t even allow myself to believe that there could be some other reason for Mia agreeing to my terms, some reason having to do with me. Even allowing myself to consider such a possibility put me on a road I had no interest in going down.
But Marcos had planted a seed, and it was up to me to make sure it didn’t grow.
“I have to admit, I’m surprised,” Marcos said.
“About what?” I asked.
“I didn’t think you were going to go through with this,” he said.
“We talked about it. Why didn’t you think I’d go through with it?” I asked.
“I thought you’d come to your senses, realize that whatever happened in the past was in the past. But I guess there was more to it than I could see,” he said.
“Yeah, what happened in the past is in the past. There’s nothing I can do to change it, nothing she can do either. But I told you what this was about,” I said, reminding him of our earlier conversation about this very topic, the one where I had gotten this idea.
“You did. But I thought you’d think better of it. And why now?” he asked.
“Why not now?” I responded.
“I guess I don’t have an answer for that,” he said.
“Marcos, it sounds like you’re trying to hint at something, so just spit it out,” I said, my frustration risi
ng.
“I just don’t want you to get hurt, Alex,” Marcos said.
His voice had dropped low, his tone sincere, and I could see that same sincerity reflected in his expression.
My cousin was the closest person to me, the only person I had always been able to count on, and I was again reminded how lucky I was to have him in my life, though there was no way in hell I would ever tell him that.
“I appreciate the concern, Marcos. But don’t be. This will be over in a few weeks and I’ll get on with my life. I just need to get her out of my system,” I said.
“And how’s that going?” he asked.
I didn’t respond, couldn’t respond, because the answer was one that I didn’t even want to consider. The truth was, the two times that I had taken Mia had only made my need for her that much stronger. But I couldn’t change course, wouldn’t give up now.
“Things are moving according to plan,” I said.
“Okay, Alex,” Marcos said.
Then his expression, which had gone serious, shifted, the casual, playful Marcos I was more familiar with coming back. “I gotta run. Thanks for picking this up,” he said.
He stood, slapped me on the shoulder, and headed out of the restaurant without looking back.
I couldn’t help but laugh, feeling a degree of calm and relaxation I only felt when I was with my cousin. Or with Mia.
I tried to ignore that last thought, instead paid, and then went back to my office.
I worked, but the day felt hollow, unfocused, something that I hated.
I hadn’t gotten where I was by allowing my attention to be divided, but now I could barely get through any of my many responsibilities with her in my head. Memories of Mia, thoughts of things she had said to me, recollections of our past that I had long ago tried to forget would make their appearance.
By nine that night, I was almost desperate to see her, and when I finally decided to leave the office, I was halfway to the penthouse before I made myself turn back.
This was going to get out of hand if I didn’t keep a tight rein on my emotions, and I was going to do that. It seemed that doing that would require me to stay away from Mia, something I didn’t want to do, but something I had no choice in.