“You can’t say that,” I tell him.
“I can, and I did,” he argues.
All I can do is run my hands through my hair, shake my head, and walk away because if we continue this conversation, I will entirely give into what he wants from me, and what I want for both of us.
I’ve got too much at stake to fully give myself to him as if I haven’t already.
I decide to see if I can get back at Evan for his transgression.
So, I choose the sexiest dress in my wardrobe, one that I know he will love.
It’s a light sequined number, with a cowl neck that shows off my cleavage just enough, and a crisscross tie in the back, before it dips low to just above my ass-crack.
The ruching in the back exaggerates my assets before it seeps down to the floor, like liquid gold.
We’re only going to a Luau tonight, but I want to make sure that I’m the best-dressed woman there, and that he can’t keep his eyes off me.
Thoughts like this only further enforce the idea that I’ve fallen for him when I promised I wouldn’t.
I barely know him, I try to convince myself.
But who does Evan turn to for everything?
Me.
We spend so much time together, I usually know where he is.
At work, in the office, if he ever has an issue, no matter what it is, I am the woman he comes to.
Is that because he trusts me, or because he knows Noah Stone respects me?
Or is it, possibly, because he keeps a spreader bar in his office, and knows I’m always up for games?
Especially, when the door isn’t locked.
I debate between two pairs of earrings as Evan comes up behind me, in a crisp black suit.
Evan’s white shirt is slightly open, no tie, and he looks as handsome as ever, even with that little bit of scruff on his face.
“You look good. I like the stubble on your face,” I say, and smile at him in the mirror.
“You look incredible, gorgeous,” he whispers in my ear.
“Put the earrings, down, I’ve got something better,” Evan murmurs.
His voice is right in my ear, and I drop the earrings on the dressing table.
There’s a Chopard box in Evan’s hands, and I automatically freeze as he opens it for me.
The lovely pair of yellow-diamond cluster-drop earrings is precisely to my taste.
Evan’s never bought me anything this expensive before, and now this?
“Evan,” I gasp as my hand settles on the box.
“They reminded me of you,” Evan says.
“They’re perfect,” I tell him.
“Merry Christmas,” Evan whispers, a sudden reminder that we are spending a momentous holiday together, without even realizing it.
“Merry Christmas Evan,” I say it back and mean it.
I don’t recall the last Christmas I spent with someone I cared about, honestly.
With ISA, it was the busiest few days of our year.
During my short marriage, we didn’t even make it to Christmas.
After that, I was always at the facility, where my dad was.
Lousy food, strange atmosphere, but good company.
Evan has opted to spend Christmas with me, instead of his family.
He put me first.
No one has ever put me first.
Grace has her life, my dad has her problems, my ex-husband had his motives.
My number one has always been me.
I believed Evan and I were the same in that respect.
I thought that, at first.
But now?
“I’m sorry you missed Christmas with your family,” I tell him quietly.
“That happens every year,” he says.
“It’s not a big deal. I’d rather be wherever you are,” Evan says softly.
He hugs me and kisses my neck.
“And, if you’re saying that because you didn’t get me anything, I didn’t expect you to,” he jokes.
Then, he presses his forehead against mine.
“Seriously, Victoire, what are we doing here?” he asks.
“In Hawaii?” I decide to play stupid.
“You know what I mean,” he says seriously.
He lifts my head up, his hand under my chin.
I turn away from his intense gaze.
I don’t want him to see what’s really in my soul.
Not now.
Not today.
“Evan, I don’t know, I really don’t, and I don’t know what else to tell you, because this is so much more complicated than just being in love with someone, okay?” I tell him.
The words flow from my mouth in a flurry.
His face brightens up for a moment, but then his expression quickly returns to normal.
Neutral.
Hardly satisfied with my response, but still determined somehow.
“Alright, I’ll take that. Put your earrings on, or we’re going to be late,” he says.
I put them on one by one, and I can’t help but wonder just exactly how much he spent on these.
They’re incredible, and deep down I know that if the price tag is that high, these could easily pay down some of those debts for my father.
I know it’s horrible, but I can’t even think about love, or Evan until I’ve taken care of my own business.
That’s not in the plan.
Right now, however, the plan is to enjoy tonight.
Fire dancers, a roast pig on a spit, and elegantly dressed people seem to clash together, but somehow the whole scene excites me.
Evan guides me towards the Luau, his hand right against the bare skin of my back.
“That dress looks amazing on you, did I tell you that?” Evan growls.
“No, but you can tell me again if you want to,” I purr in return.
I try to push away the notion that I’d been saving this dress for something special, and the idea that tonight is somehow unique.
It’s not, it’s just Christmas, and Christmas hasn’t been special to me in a long time.
We find a table right in the sand, with little candles and a couple of flowers perfect laid out in the center.
Evan plucks one of the flowers and gently puts it in my hair.
“Better,” he says, as though now my outfit is complete.
His eyes are focused on mine, and somehow, I forget whatever I was about to say.
Evan has that power over me, to make me just want to bend to whatever he asks of me.
I don’t understand.
This is supposed to be about sex and only sex.
I knew this was a mistake, but right now I can’t seem to convince myself of that.
“What was Christmas like when you were a kid?” I ask Evan.
“Well, Christmas was usually with Athena and my dad,” Evan laughs.
“My dad never knew what to get me, so Athena would buy everything, wrap it, and say it was from my dad, but I always knew better. Christmas when my dad was married, not so much. No one really knew who I was, just that I was always with Athena. I think a lot of people assumed I was a family member of some sort, but no one put anything together until my dad finally admitted to Olivia who I was,” Evan explains.
“And of course, everyone in England knew of our royal relations to some extent, so they figured I was just another Stone,” he adds.
“Olivia,” I scowl.
“Oh yeah, she was trouble from the start. You heard the story of how they got married after a month right? They took a vacation with a few friends, and Olivia demanded that my dad commit. My dad was drunk off his ass and suggested they just get married if that’s what she wanted, and that’s kind of what happened,” Evan laughs.
“I didn’t know that,” I smile at him.
“Oh yeah, and then my sister married Corban while she was drunk as well, on vacation, so I think we’d better be careful Vic, we might end up married,” he quips.
“Oh god!” I moan.
“Can you think of anything funni
er?” I ask.
“I probably can, though I can only imagine my dad’s reaction,” Evan laughs.
There’s a twinkle his eye.
The traditional Hawaiian dancers come out, and now the music is too loud to hold a conversation, thank god.
My heart pounds the whole time, with Evan beside me and his arm around the back of my chair.
My head just churns with different scenarios.
Could we work this out?
What would our life be like, committed to each other in this dominant and submissive relationship?
Would we get married?
When the fire dancers perform, the fire wands they twirl are invisible, they move so fast.
All I see are the flames.
One dancer tosses his into the air, and it spins, fire raging on either side.
Suddenly, it lands neatly in the dancer’s hands.
It hits me like a runaway truck.
Evan almost died in that fire at Noah’s penthouse!
He saved his father, but he could’ve died.
He almost died.
My heart goes into my throat, and I gag on my drink.
Tears flood my eyes, and I choke back sobs.
I can feel in my chest the depth of my love for Evan, and now, he’s so close and yet so unattainable!
I cough, hoping the tears I am crying are hidden under my improvisation.
“Hey! Vic! Are you okay?” he asks, a concerned look on his face.
It all comes roaring at me.
Evan, the fire, Elizabeth, Noah and Tinsley! Ava!
All the trials that Noah’s family and business have gone through!
And then, with Noah’s life hanging in the balance for so long, all I could do was hold his hand, and try to talk him out of every dark scenario.
“You look depressed,” Evan whispers in my ear.
“What if you didn’t survive the fire? What if your father died?” I say suddenly.
“But none of that happened Vic,” he says slowly.
“Is that what you’re worried about? Losing me?” he asks.
“Of course, you big dumbass! Of course, I’m worried about losing you!” I try to defend myself.
Then, I realize what I’ve just said.
“Vic, it’s okay to worry about the people you love,” Evan says naturally.
“I don’t love you if that’s what your implication is. I don’t,” I tell him flatly.
I furiously wipe the tears from my face, first with my wrist, and then my napkin.
Evan watches this display silently, sipping his Mai Tai.
He smacks his lips.
“That’s pretty good, Vic,” he says, and at first I think he’s talking about his drink.
“I’d be offended if I believed you, but I think that’s a lie,” he whispers.
“You and I both know that,” he says, looking straight at me.
My face turns down, away from that damning, loving gaze.
Fuck.
I want to rage at Evan, but instead, I remain silent throughout the rest of the Luau.
Occasionally, I do chuckle at his little jabs and comments.
But, all the levity has left me.
Evan eventually brings me back into a more festive mood.
Several more Mai Tai’s also contribute to my improved attitude.
We decide to walk along the beach.
Walking hand-in-hand, my bare feet crush into the sand as the moonlight illuminates the ocean.
Tropical ocean water washes over our feet.
The night has cooled, and I shiver ever so slightly, but it is enough for Evan to notice.
“Here,” he says.
Evan slips off his dinner jacket and drapes it around me.
He gives me a hug and kisses my nose.
We stand there, looking out at the beautiful moon, before resuming our walk back to our suite.
“What was Christmas like for you, as a kid?” he asks.
“Well, my dad used to shower Gracie and me with everything we wanted,” I tell him, brightly.
“There was nothing off limits for my dad. Mostly he made up for our mother’s absence, because he always made sure we were together,” I remember.
“We always had a turkey dinner, and a house full of relatives with lots of laughter,” I say.
“Your mother died?” Evan asks soberly.
“Yeah,” I admit.
“She had cancer when I was young, and died around Christmas.”
“That must’ve been hard,” he says as we stop in front of the suite.
“It was,” I say with a gulp.
It still is, I think to myself.
A single, solitary tear creeps down my left cheek.
Evan notices it and kisses it away.
I turn from him and run to our suite, so he won’t see me crying.
He stands there, watching me try to escape my feelings.
The man I love stands on the soft, white sands of our Hawaiian paradise.
Alone.
7
Evan
December 25, 2017
Victoire ran off the beach, back to our place.
On the way back, I pass Henri.
“Is everything okay, Monsieur? Anything I can do?” he asks.
I am at first cynically thinking he’s fishing for another gratuity, until I really look at his face.
His eyes are sharp, focused on me, and concern etches his features.
“It’s nothing, Henri,” I tell him.
“Women, and their ways,” I admit, shrugging.
Henri pauses for a moment.
“May I be so bold, Mr. Stone?” he asks.
“Call me Evan, Henri. I thought we had agreed on that?” I answer with a smile.
He looks thoughtful.
Then, he does something I never expected.
Henri reaches into his pocket and retrieves a locket.
I can tell it has deep meaning for him.
“May I tell you a story, Evan?” he asks.
I nod.
“Then, let us sit for a moment, as I may take my break now, and this story, while not long, deserves our comfort,” he says, gesturing to a couple of deck chairs.
He fingers the locket, and looks around, assuring we are adequately insulated from the others at the resort.
Convinced our privacy has been assured, he slides into one of the chairs.
I join him.
“Many years ago, I had a lover, and it was all they say, no?” he begins.
“She was from the mainland, and well-off. Her family was very wealthy, and they traveled the world, devouring new experiences. They were also generous, and notorious after a fashion,” he says.
I listen, paying attention to this man.
“Michelle had first come here for a party, one of her friends being married at the Oahu Sands, and she was a customer of mine,” he confessed with a smile.
“It is frowned upon, of course, for guests to mingle with the help, but it happens, my friend. Such dalliances are permitted, if one is very discrete,” he admits.
I nod in understanding.
“In any event, soon Michelle and I were involved, as they say,” he continues.
Henri seems to be fighting some intense feeling, as he fondles the locket.
He sighs, and it is the most deeply sad sound I have ever heard in my entire life.
The hairs on the back of my head stand straight up.
I lean forward, because Henri is now whispering.
I can barely hear him.
“Michelle had a choice, you see, Evan,” he says.
He looks at me, and his eyes are bright and shiny with barely contained grief.
“And, when she made this choice, I convinced myself that it was only life. That her happiness was what I wanted. That she deserved the better man, the reward for her station, you see?” he tells me.
“After all, what could I offer her, but my love?” he says.
I am very aware
that he is gripping the locket so tightly it may be bending.
“I allowed myself to let her get away, convinced it was for the best of both of us,” he says.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
Henri puts a hand onto my arm, as if steeling himself to go on.
“Yes, Evan. I am okay,” he sighs.
“But, not a day goes by when I don’t think of her. Of her laughter, her beautiful eyes. Her annoying habits, of which there were several,” he grins.
“And, when I think of her, I try to be glad that she chose her path. That the luckiest man in the world, the one who took her from me, can love her as did I,” he says.
Henri opens the locket.
There is nothing in it.
It is empty.
“But, he didn’t, you know,” he says.
My blood runs cold.
“She died in childbirth, my friend,” Henri says.
“We had agreed I would keep the baby, since there was no one who would accept a child born of our union, not in her family,” he says, quietly.
“Her husband had her interred in a family plot, somewhere in New York, I believe,” he continues.
“I have never gone, but I promised myself that I would one day visit her grave, before I die. She was the mother of my only child, the love of my life,” Henri says.
I am speechless.
I don’t know what to say to this man, to comfort him.
“I know that you probably think I am just a fool, or that I should move on, as they say nowadays, or that maybe I am just telling you this to earn your pity,” he says, looking at me.
A few tears have dampened his cheeks, and he swabs them off with his apron.
“My friend, Evan, I do not want you to have to bear the burden that I must. You have a lovely woman, Miss Victoire. She loves you. You must know that! It is as evident to me as my own face!” he says, frantically.
“Don’t make the mistake I did and let her go! I can assure you, her happiness is with you! She knows it, and you know it, too!” he says.
Then, he stands.
“I apologize for my familiarity, Mr. Stone. It is really none of my business, you see?” he says.
He puts the locket back into his slacks.
“I have worked this business a very long time. I am a very good judge of people, you know,” he admits, smiling.
He gathers himself and readies to leave.
“Mr. Stone, I want to inform you of only one more thing,” he says.
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