He looked at me again. “I’m sorry for this. I didn’t realize the class was later and made an appointment with a client I can’t cancel.”
“It’s fine,” I told him, mildly curious about his job.
As if sensing the question in my mind, Annie said, “Daddy makes medicine.”
Phillip smiled. “Not exactly, sweetheart. I work in the pharmaceutical industry, research for new medicine. I don’t make them.”
She shrugged as if it was all the same to her.
“That sounds like a good profession,” I said.
“It is. It’s always satisfying when I find something that could help others.”
“Yeah, that does sound great.”
“Oh.” He pulled out a small white box from the inside pocket of his coat. “I … I saw this the other day and thought of you.” He handed me the box.
Gawking at the box, I cradled it in my hands. “Hmm, you shouldn’t have.”
“It’s not much.” He held my gaze for a brief moment and then shook his head. “Unfortunately, I have to go.”
I held tight to the box and patted Annie’s back. “Don’t worry. She’ll be fine with us.”
He smiled. “Thank you.” He leaned down and placed a kiss on Annie’s cheek, then looked at me again. “See you later, Miss Reyes.” He waved at Julie and walked away.
I watched his retreating back. He was taller than I remembered, but not too big. Still, he looked nice in his dress pants and shirt, and his bottom filled out his pants nicely.
“Hmm, what was that all about?” Julie asked, eyeing the box in my hand.
My eyes widened. “I’m not sure,” I said.
I shook my head, pushing those thoughts aside.
“So …” I grabbed the TV remote control from Julie’s desk. “What do you like to watch?”
Annie told me the name of a show I had never heard of before. Thankfully, it was easy to find. We sat down on a couch in the waiting area and watched the show. I stared at the box in my hands.
“Hey.”
I glanced up and saw Ellie entering the studio. “Hi. Do you have class today?”
“No.” She smiled apologetically at Julie, who handed her a pair of earrings. “It seems I keep forgetting or swapping my things.” She mouthed, “Thank you,” to Julie who nodded at her.
Ellie sat beside me. “And you? Do you have a class?”
“At ten thirty.”
“So … the pizza place was great and the girls and I had fun. You should come with us next time.”
I looked at her. Her blue eyes twinkled, and my sixth sense didn’t show me anything alarming. In fact, I felt a pull toward her, toward her senses.
“Maybe I will,” I said, shocked at my words.
Ellie’s gaze fell on my lap. “What is that?”
I spun the white box in my hands. “I don’t know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know?”
“I just received it. I haven’t opened it yet.”
“Open it already.”
Biting my lip, I untied the pretty ribbon around it and opened the package.
It was a delicate necklace with a pendant of a woman dancing flamenco. There was a tiny green stone in the place of the rose in her hand.
My heart fluttered and I gasped, almost dropping it on the floor.
A note was attached to the inside of the box. I hope you like it. Phillip. His phone number was written on the corner of the note.
“Who is Phillip?” Ellie asked, spying from over my shoulder.
For a moment, I couldn’t answer. My head spun. Why was he giving me gifts?
“My daddy,” Annie answered, surprising us. My eyes widened and I glanced from Ellie to Annie. “He likes Miss Reyes.”
“Say what?” I shrieked.
“He hasn’t said it,” Annie said. “But I can sense it.”
She could sense it? How?
Beside me, Ellie chuckled with her hand over her mouth. Thankfully, Annie returned her attention to the TV. I grabbed Ellie’s arm and pulled her to a corner of the room.
“Stop laughing.”
She pressed her hand tighter over her mouth. “I’m not laughing.”
“Right.”
She finally dropped her hand. “Is he cute?”
“That’s your first question?”
“Of course it is. Well, I’m single right now, and that’s what I first notice when I see a guy.” She winked at me.
A chuckle burst out of me. “You’re something else.”
“You didn’t answer the question.”
I took a deep breath. “Yes, he’s cute. Very cute, actually.”
“Cute guy wins a point.” She glanced to the necklace. “Hmm, I think he is in love,” Ellie teased.
“Say what?” I closed the necklace in my hands as if protecting it. “I barely talked to him. I thought he was a responsible single father, but now he is just acting like any guy, trying to get a girl in bed.”
“Not all guys are like that.”
I thought back to high school. I didn’t know if my bohemian looks gave guys some vibe of easy, but I had to deal with a lot of vulgar catcalls back then. “The ones I know are.”
“Besides, are responsible single parents supposed to wait for love until their kids are adults? I don’t think so.”
I glanced down at the necklace. “Stop making me think about this more than I should.”
She smiled at me, amused. “Come on, do you really think he would have sent this?” She pointed to the necklace. “With a flamenco dancer and all, if he didn’t care?” Could she be right? But men weren’t to be trusted. “Give him a chance. Go grab a coffee with him. He might surprise you.”
Well, I hadn’t dated much, but I missed going out, flirting, cuddling, kissing, and all. And Phillip had scored some points with the necklace. Going out for a coffee with him couldn’t hurt, could it?
When I got home that afternoon, my mother was waiting for me. She was leaning against the wall beside my apartment’s door, two large paper bags in her arms.
“I don’t think you have been feeding yourself properly, so I thought I could make you a nice dinner.”
I sighed, wishing I were more of a bitch. Then I could walk into my apartment, slam the door in her face, and go about my evening without feeling an ounce of guilt.
However, I wasn’t a bitch, not to that extent anyway.
Without a word, I unlocked my door and pushed it open, letting her pass before me.
As if she visited me three times per day, my mother strolled into my kitchen and made herself right at home. She hummed while she put the groceries away and started on whatever dinner she was planning.
I just watched. That was how she wanted it to be? She would come in here, try to be in my life, but still not let me in? She wanted to be a part of my life, but I couldn’t be a part of hers? We wouldn’t talk? Wouldn’t discuss the huge abyss between us?
Maybe I was a bitch, because right now, I didn’t want to be the first to give in.
With a long sigh, I went to my bedroom.
In the end, I had danced all day. I had participated in Annie’s hip-hop class in the morning, and I had waved at Phillip when he came to pick her up later, but I hadn’t approached him because I didn’t know what to say. Not yet. Then I taught my ballet class, had a quick lunch break, and had my flamenco class. And when I was alone in the dance studio, I danced some flamenco and reggaeton for over ninety minutes. Now I was sweaty and exhausted.
After a quick shower and putting on a simple dress with long fringes down my legs, I stared at my bedroom door. I had to get out there at some point. I had to face my mother, talk to her. Maybe she would talk to me.
The doorbell rang.
What the hell?
I opened my bedroom door and heard my mother’s voice. “Would you like some tea?”
“No, ma’am. Thanks,” a male voice said. He sounded young and yet powerful and petulant.
I stepped out of the
bedroom.
One of the guys from that night of the attack stood in my living room. A few lines of his black and red tattoo appeared from under his folded sleeve.
My heart jumped to my throat, and I thought I would choke on it.
He turned his sharp amber eyes to me, and I sucked in a sharp breath. He was more striking than I remembered. More powerful, more stoic. He was tall, lean, and strong. His hair, almost the same amber tone as his eyes, was long enough that it curled under his ears, under the small silver hoop on his right ear. A little stubble covered his chiseled chin and jaw, and emphasized his full lips.
I shook my head, clearing my thoughts of any idea that behind his stoic pose, this guy was attractive.
I glanced toward my mother, who moved awkwardly and unsure by his side.
“Mirella,” my mother finally said, “this is Artan, Oscar’s son.”
Oscar? Why did that name ring a bell? Then it hit me. He was the rom baro my mother mentioned yesterday.
Shit. Artan was one of them. And he had saved me. Oh shit.
He bowed his head at me. “Good evening.”
“Hi,” I muttered, not sure what I was supposed to do. I glanced around. “W-what are you doing here?”
“I was sent to escort you to my enclave,” Artan said, his tone matching the determination in his eyes.
“What?” My stomach dropped to my knees. I turned to my mother. She was staring at the floor. “That’s why you came over? Because you wanted to take me to your old enclave?” I asked her, but she shook her head.
“No, your mother can’t go,” Artan said. “She’s still banished.”
Yeah, right. One, I wasn’t going anywhere with strangers. And two, even if I considered the option, I wouldn’t go without my mother, since this was all because of her past.
I walked past him, opened the door, and pointed out. “You can go now.”
I did a double take. Leaned against the rail guard a few feet to the side, a girl waited. She looked a year or two younger than me. Her hair was a shade lighter than Artan’s, falling straight and long down her back, a pink bandana around her head and large silver hoops in her ears. She smiled and waved at me. I grimaced and turned to Artan. “Who is she?”
“My sister, Ryane,” he said.
“Well, Artan, you tell your clan—”
“Enclave.”
“Say what?”
“We use the term enclave,” he explained.
“Whatever. Go back to your father, and tell him I don’t take rides from strangers.” I gestured toward the door again. “Nor do I go to strangers’ houses.”
For a moment, Artan held my gaze and I saw his determination battling something else, something I couldn’t name. “My father won’t be pleased.”
“That’s not my problem.”
Glaring at me and ignoring my mother, Artan walked out. I slammed the door behind him, hoping it illustrated my point. Who did he think he was? More importantly, I didn’t know who he was. I did not want to go anywhere with him. He could be another lunatic, or a serial killer, or a rapist.
In the living room, I watched him through the window, hidden behind the curtains. I wanted to make sure he and his sister left.
When their car turned the corner and disappeared into the night, my mother stood beside me.
“You shouldn’t anger them. They are powerful.”
“I don’t care,” I repeated my previous words. “You’re the one who taught me to trust no one. Why would I get into his car and let him drive me to a place I don’t know, with people I don’t care about?”
“Mirella.” My mother took a deep breath, her eyes serious as I turned my back to her. “You’re playing with fire. You’ll get burned.”
5
I snapped my fingers and stomped my foot on the floor. My hips undulated and I bent my elbows to follow their movements. It was as if the music went along with me, not the opposite.
My last class of the evening had just finished, and my students were gone. Now I could dance by myself for an hour before the studio closed. It was the best I could come up with on a Friday night. While most twenty year olds were getting ready for parties, dinners, and dates, I was sweating in a dance classroom.
Just my kind of night.
I clapped my hands and, with the music, spun. As my body naturally followed the rhythm, my mind raced.
It had been a week since my mother appeared back in my life, and she was already trying to take more than I was ready to offer. In the past week, she had showed up at my apartment and at the dance studio more times than I would like to admit. I wanted to shut her out, like I had done when I moved away, but now that she was here and in my life, I found I couldn’t be that mean to her again. So, I let her be, as long as she didn’t bother me and didn’t stick her nose in my business.
The beat changed and I whirled, stomping my foot along with it.
The tingling invaded my mind, and I almost fell on the floor, startled.
Damn it. I hated this sixth sense thing. I hadn’t talked in depth to my mother about it, and I tried to pretend it didn’t exist, but I was starting to think I couldn’t ignore it anymore.
The tingles pressed upon me again, and the pendant inside my bra heated up.
I turned down the music and closed my eyes. I focused on the tingles. I had no idea what I was doing, if I was doing it right or not, but it was the only thing I knew about this. I pushed my senses out, expanding their reach, trying to find the source of whatever had disturbed my dancing session.
I found it. Whatever it was, it was coming from the reception area.
What could it be? It was late at night, on a Friday, and there were only three people inside the studio—Miss Dona, Julie, and me. I hoped this tingling sensation didn’t mean we were in danger like a few of the times it had happened before.
Sensing my distress, my heartbeat quickened. The tingles assaulted me again. All right, all right. I walked to the front, to the reception desk.
I gasped, my heart rate going sky-high.
Phillip entered the school. “Hello there,” he said, a wide smile taking over his features.
“Hi,” I mumbled. My heart was still beating fast. I glanced at Julie. She worked on some papers behind her desk, clearly not caring about us. “Hmm, what are you doing here? And where’s Annie?”
“She went out for dinner with my mother. I’ll pick her up in a little while.” He stepped closer. “As for your other question, do you really need to ask that?”
“Well …” I tucked a loose strand of hair and averted my eyes. Phillip was probably twenty-five or six—not a guy, but a man—and apparently he was interested in me. What did I make of that? What did I say to that?
“So.” He stepped closer. “I could accept if you rejected me, but I had to find out why you didn’t call me. Didn’t you like the necklace?"
“I did,” I said. Poor guy. He was cute and obviously attentive, and I hadn’t given him the time of day. That didn’t seem fair. “I was going to call you.”
He took another step closer, his eyes almost wary. “I’ll pretend I believe that. Better yet, let’s pretend you already did. So, here I am, to give you a ride home.”
Say what? Yeah, right, like I would get into a car with a guy I didn’t know. Perhaps it was time for me to start using a sign over my head: I’m not good at trusting people, especially men. Get over it.
“You see, I’m in the middle of my workout.”
“At 9 p.m. on a Friday?” His eyebrows arched up.
“Yes. It is the only time I can dance alone, with no students running around.” A lie … I had several moments during the week.
He tilted his head, studying me through my eyes. “Perhaps I could wait.”
“No. I can’t do that to you. I tend to dance late.”
He leaned closer, and I held my breath, afraid his citric scent messed with my mind. “Then I could watch.”
“Hmm, I don’t think that would be a good idea.”
His hand moved toward me, and then he thought better and hid it behind his back. “I’m not giving up yet.”
“I can live with that.”
A pleased grin adorned his lips. “Okay. Good night, then.”
“Good night,” I whispered, my heart beating fast as I watched him leave the studio.
I thought about calling Phillip many times over the weekend, but I easily gave in to my fears. And the fact that my mother spent most of her time in my apartment didn’t help—she was always hovering, watching me, waiting … but I had no idea why.
On Tuesday, Annie waited after the class was done.
I knelt before her. “What is it, sweet bun?” Her big green eyes blinked at me, shining with unshed tears. “Oh my.” I opened my arms and she ran smack into them. “What happened?”
“Annie.” Phillip showed up at the door. “Let Miss Reyes go.”
She didn’t let go of me. Instead, her grip around my neck got tighter. With his brows drawn close together, Phillip walked into the classroom.
I stood with Annie in my arms. “I don’t know what happened,” I mouthed to him.
“I do.” He patted her back. “She’s sad because you’re leaving.”
I froze. “What?”
“Is that why you’ve been refusing to go out with me? You could have just told me. I would have stopped bothering you.” He paused. “Maybe.”
I felt a crease forming on my forehead. “I’m not leaving. Who said that?”
Phillip looked puzzled. “She said you’re leaving. Aren’t you?”
“No.” I gently pulled Annie back so I could stare into her eyes. “I’m not leaving, sweet bun. Who told you that?”
“Nobody,” she said. “I just know you’ll leave.” A cold shiver ran down my backbone. “I don’t want you to leave.”
I kept my pose. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise.” I handed her to Phillip. “Don’t worry, okay? I’ll be here next class.”
She nodded and buried her face into her father’s arms. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. His voice was hopeful when he said, “I’ll talk to you later?”
Absently, I nodded.
My gaze followed as they walked out of the classroom while my mind spun around Annie’s words. Why the hell did she think I was leaving? Where had she heard that?
Heart Seeker (The Fire Heart Chronicles Book 1) Page 4