Uncorked

by Rebecca Rohman

  “Meet me at the station in a couple of hours?”

  “Sure.” Mitch replied.

  “Get those wounds stitched up.”

  “I will. Thanks.”

  The hotel manager arranged for them to get a ride back to Mitch’s penthouse. Chella was silent all the way home, but the continuous, rapid pulse Mitch felt as he held her hand told him she wasn’t okay.

  When they got to the foyer, she couldn’t hold back anymore. She collapsed in his arms and cried. It was over, finally over, after ten years of threats, stalking, moving. It was all over. He held her in his arms in a strong embrace as she let go. There were no words between the two. None were needed.

  After leaving the hospital, they headed over to the station. Detective Carter escorted them to a stark gray conference room and poured them coffee.

  “You’ll be happy to know Mr. Stewart has been read his rights. He’s recovering from his injuries at the hospital under police guard. Nasty fight.”

  “Nasty guy,” Mitch replied nonchalantly.

  “He has a concussion and four fractures to his arm.”

  “He deserved it.”

  “Detective, Mitch was only trying to protect me,” Chella said, holding Mitch hand.

  “There’s no need to worry, Ms. Noon, there won’t be charges. Mitch was protecting you and defending himself.”

  “How did he get into our room?” Chella asked.

  “We found a master card key on him. We’re still trying to figure out how he got it and how he found out your room number.”

  “But the chain was on the door.”

  “You’d be surprised how easily those can be removed with a rubber band.”

  “Detective, he said my parents fucked up his life, so he had to return the favor. And it was too bad I didn’t get killed in that crash, too. When I asked him what he was talking about, he laughed and said, ‘We’ll never know.’ I think he had something to do with the accident that killed my parents.”

  “When was their accident?”

  “August 16, 2002.”

  “Their names?”

  “Francis and Heather Noon.”

  “I’ll look into it and see what I can find out. Did he say anything else?”

  “No, it was more the way he said it. He laughed in this sick, creepy way that gave me goose bumps.”

  “I’ll check it out.”

  “Did he say anything else that might help with the case?”

  She relayed details of the morning to the detective. At certain points, Mitch would clench his fists. She realized how much not being there had affected him.

  When they got back to the penthouse, Mitch was exhausted. He went to his room and took a nap. Chella cuddled up on the veranda sofa and played the incident over in her head. Until now, she had relied on no one but herself, but now she had Mitch in her life, and he had been there for her. She thought of the events of the last few weeks. She was anxious to get back to work, to keep her mind occupied.

  One thing she knew for sure was that she needed a new home. Buy or lease? House or condo? These were questions she never thought of entertaining before, but the dark chapter in her life was over. For the first time—ever—she thought about her future.

  Her thoughts were interrupted when Mitch entered the room.

  “Hey you,” he said, sitting next to her.

  “Hey you. I thought you were going to take a nap.”

  “I tried. Couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t get this morning off my mind.”

  “I’m sorry. You were really angry at the station. Are you okay?”

  “When I saw that knife in his hand, and I realized he was trying to hurt you, I wanted to kill him myself. I thought about it, Chell. That way he could never lay a hand on you again.”

  “But that’s not you.”

  “No, I guess not. I just put his head through the coffee table and the mirror. When he continued to come after me, I broke his arm.”

  “You did what you had to do.”

  “I don’t want you to see that side of me. I don’t like to see myself that way. It takes me back to a time in my life I’d rather not return to.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’ll tell you one day, Sweetheart. I’m just not ready to talk about it. It’s nothing like Emily. It’s not that type of secret. It’s just something really painful that happened in my past.”

  “Okay,” she replied. She was curious, but she respected his wishes. If it was something that caused him pain, he needed to tell her about it in his own time.

  “Thank you. For being there for me. For saving my life.”

  Mitch smiled and kissed her on the forehead. “Let’s go for a walk.”

  “Where?”

  “Anywhere you want to go.”

  “Let’s go down by the harbor.”

  They walked along the water’s edge. The sun was poised to dive into the ocean once more. They sat on a bench and watched the boats float by.

  “I’m thinking about moving somewhere more…permanent,” Chella said.

  “I think that’s great. Your safety is my primary concern, though.”

  “Well, I’m going to explore my options sometime this week with an agent. Would you like to come with me?”

  “I’d love to. This must be exciting for you.”

  “Yeah, it is.”

  “Feel free to stay with me as long as you like.”

  “Thanks, but I could never impose on you that way.”

  “You’re not imposing. I’m offering.”

  “It’s barely been a month since we started seeing each other, only a day since we agreed to see each other exclusively. I think I’d be more comfortable if I found my own place.”

  “If you change your mind, the offer is always open.”

  Finding a new place wasn’t easy. Chella and Mitch had one, two, or three fights as to where she should live. He was excited about two units available in his building, but Chella wanted more of an ocean view, as opposed to the city or harbor view. The last of their arguments was just before he dropped her off at work a couple of days later. She was so furious with him, she stormed from the car the moment it stopped. None of the usual kisses or have-a-great-day or I’ll-miss-you goodbyes. Nada.

  While she would have been happy to move into a house or town home or a smaller-unit condo on the beach, Mitch had serious concerns about her safety. Aaron might have been in police custody, but his accomplices had yet to be identified, and he had no idea what they were capable of.

  When she got to her desk, she was eager to start work on her summer and Christmas promotions for her Teen Sassy product line. She was happy to think about something other than Aaron Stewart or the fight she’d had with Mitch earlier that morning.

  Teen Sassy was on par with the competition, but she needed to find ways to increase their market share. While in-store promotions and sampling at the malls helped sales, she needed to think of one big idea to circulate these events around. To get her mind juggling, she looked around the local mall after school to see what interested both teen girls and boys. Two names of pop groups kept coming up repeatedly. The boys seemed to be in love with a female group called The Sparkplugs, who were into fast cars, and the girls seemed crazy about a group of heartthrobs called The West Coast Boys.

  She thought about putting together a series of ads starting in July and running through to Christmas. The culminating event would be a joint concert between the two bands the day after Christmas. Now all she had to do was work out the details, send over proposals to the bands’ mangers and come to an agreement.

  Mitch picked her up that evening. They had an unusually quiet drive home. At the penthouse, Chella turned to him and said, “Mitch I don’t want to fight with you anymore.”

  “I don’t want to fight with you, either. I just need you to see things from my point of view.”

  “Which is what? That I move into your building?”

  “I realize that where you move is your choi
ce, but I want you to consider your safety.”

  “What makes you think I’m not doing that?”

  “You’re not looking at the broader picture.”

  “What broader picture?”

  “Aaron may not be out there but there are other crazy assholes he’s been working with. We’re not sure what they’re capable of.”

  She stayed silent as he made his point.

  “Your safety will always be a concern of mine, especially in light of recent events.

  “I get that, but just because I don’t want to live in this building it doesn’t mean that I’m not thinking about my safety.”

  “That’s not what I’m saying. I understand your love for the ocean, and I realize there are few properties with limited access and high security measures. All I want is for you to consider a high rise that has security features, controlled access, and manned security twenty-four hours a day. I wish I had the pleasure of watching you all the time, but it’s not possible.”

  “Those properties aren’t easy to come by on the beach.”

  “Chella, for my piece of mind, I am asking you to please consider that as an option. Even if it might take a little extra time to find.”

  “Tell me what so wrong with the properties we looked at?”

  “The properties on the beach were beautiful, but none had those types of security measures in place. They all had multiple entries into the space; some were even on the ground floor, making it even easier to access. Chella, you have no idea what it’s like to witness someone try to kill your girlfriend. It’s not something I wish to experience again. Ever.”

  As she listened to his words, she felt guilty. “Mitch, I’m so sorry. I never considered how difficult it was for you when you got into that room. I don’t want you to ever go through anything like that again. I’m sorry I’ve been so stubborn.”

  “Sometimes I think you’re the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met,” he said, pulling her in his arms.

  “I’ll ask Taylor to look for a high rise with all the security features that will put your mind at ease, but with the views I like. It might take a bit longer for you to get me out of your hair, but it’s a compromise I hope both of us will be happy with in the end.”

  “I like you in my hair. Thank you for compromising.”

  The next day, Detective Carter and the lead prosecutor in the case, Samantha Marlow, met with Mitch and Chella to go over the state’s case against Aaron. Both Chella and Mitch would need to testify at a grand jury hearing to be held the coming Friday afternoon.

  “We have a very strong case,” said Ms. Marlow, sitting in her oversized leather office chair. “The list of charges is so long, we should be able to get him in prison for the rest of his life.”

  “What is he being charged with?” Chella asked.

  “There are over ten charges, most of them multiple. The most serious charge is two counts of attempted murder. One count alone can be a life sentence. The other charges can put him away for a long time, too. Everything from vandalism to assault with a deadly weapon, stalking and let’s not forget the restraining order violations. You can have a look at the all the charges here.” Ms. Marlow handed Chella the list. “What are your feelings regarding a plea agreement?”

  Mitch said, “We’ve discussed it. We would prefer a plea. Neither Chella nor I have any interest in seeing Aaron out of jail in this lifetime. Even though we want him in prison for as long as humanly possible, we’ll be happy if we don’t have to go to court and sit on a stand, giving hours of personal and painful testimony.”

  “That’s understandable,” Ms. Marlow replied.

  “That being said, we have no interest in seeing Aaron Stewart out of jail for another sixty years. Anything less than that, it would be worth it for us to go to trial. With the mounting evidence against him, he would probably get two life sentences and then some, so we think sixty years would be a deal.

  “Not to mention we’d all probably all be dead within that time anyway, at least by longevity standards,” Chella continued.

  “I can promise you both I’ll try my best. I’m going to give this my all.”

  “One more question,” Chella asked. “Will he be granted bail at his arraignment?”

  “Highly unlikely, but not impossible. I’m going to argue that bail be denied. You made police reports and filed restraining orders over the years that created a paper trail. Together with the evidence we collected from his residence, it should be enough to keep him in jail. In addition, he has two prior violent assaults on his record. That’s two strikes on his record. That won’t help his case, either.”

  “If by some chance he’s granted bail, please let us know,” Mitch replied.

  “Sure.”

  “Thanks, Ms. Marlow.” Chella and Mitch shook her hand and left.

  After looking at properties, Mitch and Chella returned home with no clear picture of where her next move would be. They saw a few condos but weren’t completely sold. The locations were great, but the buildings were older and many needed a complete renovation. The ones she really liked were over her budget. None met Mitch’s high security standards.

  Noticing her frustrations, he took her in his arms and wrapped her in a plush, white towel as she stepped out of the shower.

  “Sweetheart, I’m sorry this has become so frustrating for you.”

  “I wish we could come to some sort of reasonable and realistic compromise, considering the difficulty we’re having finding what you like in the area I want.”

  “Let’s not talk about it tonight. Why don’t you throw on your swimsuit? We can go for a swim. No one’s there and Giorgio, the security guy, told me the pool is rarely used during the week. We’ll have privacy.”

  She smiled at him. “So you have it all figured out I see. I guess it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to go for a swim. Get us some towels while I get dressed.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that, because I’ve packed us some drinks. Put on the sexiest swimsuit you own. I’ll be waiting for you in the kitchen.”

  “I hate to admit it, but this might be just what I need right now.”

  In lounge chairs, poolside, darkness descended upon them. The afterglow of the setting sun created a stunning backdrop for the towers that hovered over them. The lights from buildings in the distance reminded them they were in the heart of downtown San Diego. It was exactly what she needed—to forget about everything that had happened over the past few weeks.

  They chatted about work and Emily. Chella laughed as he relayed the story Emily told him about her recently acquired admirer at school. Daddy had his radar up, despite the fact that they were talking about two five year olds.

  Mitch dove into the pool, now illuminated from below with lights that changed color every ten minutes. It was beautiful. She pulled the tank dress she wore over her head revealing the ultra-sexy white and gold monokini that barely covered her.

  “Wow, I see we aim to please,” Mitch said with a bright smile. “I might have a hard time keeping my hands off of you.”

  “You did say to wear the sexiest swimsuit I owned. A little eye candy never hurt anyone.”

  “Why should the eyes have all the fun?”

  She laughed at his words and dove into the pool. She swam toward him and wrapped him in a full-body embrace like sweet licorice.

  He circled his muscular arms around her waist, and looked into her eyes. “It’s great to see you like this. I don’t like it when you’re stressed.”

  She looked into his eyes and kissed him lightly on his lips. “You make me so happy.”

  “You make me happy too, Sweetheart,” he replied, returning her gaze. He kissed her, long, penetrating, wet. She welcomed him deep into her mouth.

  He hardened between their entwined bodies and pressed her body against the pool’s tiled edge. The strings holding her swimsuit released easily in his grasp, enabling him easy access to her sweet crevasses. He pleasured her with his fingers. She cried quiet, sensua
l murmurs against his ear, and slipped one of her hands down his swimming trunks, the other still around his neck. He gasped when her hands wrapped around hardened shaft.

  “Mitch?”

  “Immm, hmmm?”

  “I think we need to go up.”

  “No way. I’m going to make you come right here.”

  “Even if we have an audience?”

  He froze and cursed. “We do?”

  “Immm, hmmm. There’s a couple looking from above.”

  “Shit.”

  “Why don’t you calm him down?” she replied, laughing. “I’ll get our things together after you tie my loose strings.”

  “Let’s stay. I don’t mind making out with you right here, unless you have any objections?”

  “We’ll stick to first base then. We don’t want the neighbors calling security on us. By the way, I love making out.”

  They frolicked and teased each other for an hour, never interrupted by anyone. When they made it back to the penthouse, Chella was certain Mitch would rip her swimsuit off as soon as they got into the foyer, but he didn’t. He placed the picnic basket on the kitchen countertop then took her in his arms and planted maddeningly soft kisses on her lips until she was certain she would be the one to rip off her swimsuit.

  Lifting her by her ass, he walked over to one of the swivel bar stools at the island and placed her round, firm buttocks on the soft leather seat, her legs around his hips. He looked deep into her eyes, cupped her face in his hands, and kissed her. She was certain she was falling in love with him, but she didn’t say any words with her mouth. Everything she had to say, she said with her body.

  He lifted her cover-up dress over her head and dropped it on the floor. As she loosened the buttons on his shirt then slid the linen folds from his broad shoulders, he trailed kisses from her lips to her neck.

  All that kept her monokini on was a series of strings. After pulling the one around her neck then her back then on either side of her hips the swimsuit completely fell apart.