The Science of Loving

by Candace Vianna

  “You might want to give it a little more time. It’s early and he probably didn’t get much sleep with the nurses constantly checking on him.”

  “Okay.” Silence filled the kitchen. She chewed the inside of her cheek, shifting awkwardly, looking everywhere but at me.

  “How you feeling baby?”

  “Good.”

  I gathered her close. “Sore?” There was my shy girl. Even her blushes were sexy.

  “A little, I guess.” God, getting her to talk sometimes, was like pulling teeth. How could a woman this sensual be so filled with doubt she was practically celibate?

  “I have just the thing to take care of that.”

  I carried her back to bed and ordered her to stay put while I prepared her bath. Hidden behind the master bedroom’s half-bath was a grotto: A masterpiece of natural stone interwoven with steam-punk elements. I opened the fill valves then dumped some Epsom salts into the stone cistern as a steaming waterfall splashed against the polished basin. After switching on some mood music and adjusting the lights, it was almost ready. “Okay, beautiful, all I need is you. Close your eyes until I tell you to open them.”

  I sank into water chest deep, settling her on my lap. Since a regular bathtub wasn’t big enough for me to soak comfortably, I installed a custom spa tub instead. I reduced the waterfall to a trickle and kissed her neck. “Okay, sweetie, open your eyes.”

  “Oh, my god… This is so cool.” She slowly looked around. My bath packed a wallop when everything was properly adjusted. “I really have to start working on my powers of observation. How did I miss this earlier?”

  “With only the regular lights on, most of this would’ve been hidden, especially with your brain clouded by all my awesome sexing.”

  “Why even have regular lights? I’d keep it like this all the time.”

  “Theatrical lighting’s great for the show, but not so good when you’re checking for gum under the seats.”

  “Now, you have a dilemma, you’ll never know if I’m really into you, or just using you so I can spend quality time with your bathtub.”

  “I can live with that, besides, my vacuum still loves me.”

  “The toaster giving you the cold shoulder?”

  “Yeah… frigid bitch.”

  “I thought that was the refrigerator.”

  “Naw, she has commitment issues. She gives me cold feet every time I pack her box.”

  “Oh that one was bad,” Angie groaned. “No wonder my dad likes you, you’re jokes are even worse than his.”

  “I told you I’m a dork.”

  “A talented dork.”

  “You better believe it baby. Now, relax while I use my talents on you.” She leaned back, sighing as I turned on the jets—that’s right honey let it all go—I pulled her hands behind my neck. Closing my eyes, I coasted my fingers down her arms. When I reached to her body, her hands slipped down to ride on mine. I cup her groin, settling her higher, so my lips could reach her neck and shoulders while my other hand worked on her breast.

  “Mat?”

  “Right here baby.” She pulled my hands from her, and turned to face me. Since this rearrangement left her ass pleasantly resting in my hands, I was able to contain my disappointment.

  She balanced a hand on my shoulder, and fingered my growing stubble as her eyes contemplated my chin. “How often do you shave?”

  “Every day, twice on Sundays. How often do you shave?”

  “Probably more often now that my social calendar has become more demanding. It’s hit or miss unless I have a date, or I’m going out in public without sleeves or long pants. So it can get pretty hairy if it’s been a lonely winter.”

  “No worries, that’s a chore I’ll happily take over.”

  “What?”

  “One of these days I want to shave you.”

  “Down there?”

  “Okay, if you insist, but I kinda like those curls. Although, it might be fun working on my topiary skills, I could trim your bush into cool shapes.”

  “Cool shapes?”

  “Yeah baby, I’m inspired. I could give you a Mohaw… a Muffhawk. We could dye it cool colors… It’ll be bitch’n.” I grinned, squeezing her ass.

  “I think we’ve been soaking too long. The heats effected your mind.”

  “Heats got nothing to do with it, but let’s finish anyway. You need to call your dad and I have some man stuff that needs doing.” After helping Angie from the bath, I pulled a towel from the warmer, wrapping her in a warm hug, her curly locks snagging on my chin. Definitely time for a shave. “Okay, woman, get going. I need me some man time.” She gave an outraged squawk when I sent her out with a playful swat on her terrycloth padded ass.

  I walked into the great room fastening my jeans, just as she was getting off the phone. “How is he?”

  “Ready to go home.”

  “Is he being discharged?”

  “Not yet, they have some tests scheduled for this morning, and if they come back negative, they’ll let him out this afternoon.”

  “So are we hanging out at the hospital until then?”

  “No, he said he’d call when he’s back in his room.”

  Her phone started playing the theme from The Exorcist. “Les got a hold of my phone when I wasn’t looking and assigned ringtones to some of my contacts—hello Mom… He’s fine… I don’t… Uh huh…” She hugged herself, dropping her head. Her shoulders hunched, and she grew increasingly tense. “I don’t know… All right… Okay, I’ll call you back when I know what’s going on… Uh huh… Okay, bye.” By the time she’d hung up, the little girl I’d met two weeks ago stood rigidly in front of me, tied up in knots.

  “She wants to talk. Says she has something to tell me… Umm… I told her I’d call back once I know what’s going on.” Motherfucker.

  “A friend of mine owns an expresso bar around the corner; it’s pretty good. We could meet her there, and then pick up your dad when he’s discharged this afternoon.” She stood in front of me, scraping her nails over the back of her hand not meeting my eyes.

  “Ummm… I think she wants to talk to me alone.” Shit.

  “That’s cool.” Not. “I’ll walk you over, and you can call me when you’re through.” The barista was a friend. He’d call sooner, if things got ugly…

  The confetti mountain in front of me was growing ever larger while I waited. Mat had insisted on escorting me around the corner, and formally charged his friend, Reggie, with my safety. After sitting me at the cafe table closest to the service bar, he casually plunked a stack of napkins in the center and left. Perhaps, as a modern capable woman, his caveman like protectiveness shouldn’t have thrilled me, but it made me feel special—in a good way—cherished.

  “Café au Lait, extra sweet.” Reggie surprised me, setting a cup of coffee Mat must’ve ordered for me next to my paper mountain, and the icy nerves tightening in my chest melted a little; I’d never been spoiled like this before.

  “Hello dear.” After we traded kisses, she placed her order then settled across from me, her mouth tightening briefly at the sight of my pile. “So, tell me what’s going on with your father.”

  “He seems to be fine. They’re probably going to discharge him this afternoon.”

  “Well, that is good news,” she said, but her tone clashed with her words. “I took you’re advice—” I glanced up. “—and spoke to my attorney, apparently the prenup is unenforceable in California, so Bob’s testimony is a non-issue.”

  “I’m relieved to hear it.”

  “Unfortunately, your father’s attorney has frozen all of our assets. While your father has his trust to live on, I have to get by on a temporary stipend until everything’s settled.”

  Other than nodding, I didn't really know how to respond to that. What did she expect me to do about it? Reggie brought her order and smiled encouragingly before he left. “I think the barista likes you. Perhaps you should ask him out.”

  “I have all the romance I can handle wi
th Mat. Besides, I don’t think Reggie has the right kind of connections to meet with your approval.”

  “See, you’re already on a first name basis.”

  “Ladies.” Shit. “Mind if I join you?” Avery plopped down without invitation.

  “Avery, My mom and I are having a private conversation.”

  “He’s here actually, at my invitation.” Mom carefully set her cup on the table and gave me a serious look. “He knows some things you need to hear.”

  “Mom, I don’t know how you guys know each other, but I do know there’s nothing Avery’s got to say that I want to hear.” I started to rise, only to find Mom’s hand over mine.

  “I told you I checked him out. Avery has been quite the font of knowledge, and his connections, by the way, are impeccable. You could do worse.” Ew… gross…

  “Why are you doing this Mom?”

  “Because someone has to; you’ve led such a sheltered life—my fault, perhaps—and there are predators out there who specialize in women like you: young, lonely, waiting to inherit a fortune. You’d be surprised how attractive money like that can make you.” I guess you’d know.

  “Mat has his own money—”

  “Not really,” Avery jumped in, a sly expression on his face. “I found out his company’s finances aren’t nearly as good as they appear. Creative bookkeeping can keep him afloat for only so long then he’s going to need to get cash from somewhere. Why do you think he had to get rid of us?” That couldn't be true. Mat wouldn’t do something like that… No, this was all wrong. Why am I even listening to this creep? “—I tried to help him, bring in the sort of bread-n-butter accounts that could sustain him, but he’s so caught up in creating ‘Art’ that he’s willing to go under and drag everyone down with him.”

  “I don’t think—”

  “That’s right, you don’t think.” Avery pounced. “That’s how guys like him work. You chicks never get past his looks to see what a player he is. And you’re mistaken if you think he hasn’t tapped all Danny’s friends. You’ll end up just like the rest. You should see how badly he messed up the last one. Ashley’s still not over him.” Ashley, the girl from the party? I closed my eyes as a lump started forming in my throat. I should’ve known he was too good to be true. What other interest could a guy like that possibly have in me.

  “—and then there’s your father’s accident.” How long had Mom been speaking? “Do you think it’s a coincidence he was almost killed so soon after you started seeing him? I’ll bet he’s been such a comfort.”

  God, I didn't want to hear this. I needed more air. “Breathe,” a velvety memory whispered through my mind. “Breathe with me.” My lungs expanded. “Again… Just breathe, sweetheart.”

  Suddenly he was there in front of me: Real and solid, his forest fresh scent washing over me. “Hey, sorry to intrude, but it’s getting late, and we need to get to the hospital.” And it was a final memory that caused tears to spill down my cheeks. “How I treasure you.”

  “Hey everything’s all right. Jack’s going to be fine.” He cradled my face, misunderstanding my grief while my heart disintegrated into ash. “Stephanie, I didn’t realize you were acquainted with my former employee.”

  “Yes, what a coincidence.” Mom gave me a knowing look as she gathered her handbag. “Just think about what I’ve said, Angelina, and give your father my regards when you see him.”

  Angie was a mess. As soon as I came through the door, I could see she was in trouble. And going by Stephanie’s predatory expression, she knew it as well. Thank God, Reggie’d called. Even though her tears had dried by the time we got home, she still wasn’t right. She was so completely shut down, it scared the shit out of me.

  “Hey, baby, talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”

  “I’m okay.” She was barely audible; doing everything she could to put distance between us—we’re back to this shit again—God, I wanted to break something, starting with Avery’s face. What the fuck was he doing there?

  “Did you and your mother argue?”

  “No… She’s worried about me.”

  Yeah, I saw worry written all over her face. “C’mere, sit with me.” I dragged her onto the sofa. “What was that tool, Avery, doing with her?”

  “I think she came across him when she was checking up on you.” She looked so sad. “You really pissed her off.”

  “Yeah, well the feeling’s mutual.”

  “Mat?” She looked at me, taking a nervous breath. “How sound is your business?”

  “Rock solid. Why, what were you told?”

  Her eyes dropped to her hands. “That you might be having solvency issues in the near future.” What the fuck…

  “Shit. Okay, honey this is important; I need to know exactly what was said. I have employees depending on me, not to mention my partner. My business is my life.”

  “Avery implied you’re hiding losses with questionable bookkeeping, and your business is going to need a cash infusion soon.”

  “Son of a bitch!” I exploded off the sofa. That fucker! No wonder Max wanted those commercial developments. “Honey, you’ve got to believe me. Max and Tom knew better than to let me anywhere near the books. I’m not what you’d call a numbers guy. I’m the creative juice. Tom’s pragmatism ensures what we do is functional; he’s all about practical application. Without him reigning me in, there’s no telling what crazy shit I’d stick in there just because it would look cool. Max managed the logistics and most of the day-to-day bullshit. Shit! I need to call Tom.” I whipped out my phone. “Hey… Yeah… Look, we may have a situation. How long has it been since we’ve audited the books?… Uh huh… What! Never?… What about the report? Shit… Don’t tell me to calm down… Max may have fucked us… Avery… Okay… First thing Monday morning… Yeah, bye.”

  Shit. I couldn't believe we’ve never done an audit. The actuary report was based on our quarterly filings. I paced around like a mad man. I knew I’d fucking lose it if I didn’t get out of there. “Baby, I’m going for a run to work off some of this steam. We’ll go to the hospital as soon as I get back. Okay?” Angie cowered on the sofa, nodding quietly. Shit, I couldn't work on her insecurities right now. I'd just fuck it up. I'd sort her out when I could think in something other than profanities. I pulled on my kicks then pounded down the stairs with anger thundering in my ears.

  A couple hours later and a whole lot calmer, I trudged up the stairs using my shirt to wipe the sweat off my face. “Hey baby, sorry about—Angie?” Shit. I searched the rest of the loft even though my gut told me she was gone, which was confirmed by a terse note left on the coffee table.

  “Mathew,

  I took a cab home. I think you have enough to deal with without all my drama. Don’t worry, I’m fine. I’ll pick up my dad. Thank you for everything.

  Angie”

  Shit… no… no… The formal tone of the note felt like goodbye. I grabbed my phone and started dialing. My call went straight to voice mail… Shit. “Hey Angie, baby call me.” I flipped over to text and left the same message as backup then brought the phone with me while I jumped in the shower. Twenty minutes later, I was pacing, sweat free, and still no word from Angie. I knew I’d fucked up. I shouldn’t have taken off like that, not when Angie was obviously upset. I should’ve found out what else had happened. Shit. I started texting.

  “Angie please let me know you’re all right.”

  Half an hour later… “Angie call me.”

  An hour after that, I'd become desperate. “Mammy, I need you…”

  Talking to Mom quailed my initial panic. Her reassurance was like a balm. She kept me from rushing to Angie’s apartment and dragging her back like some sort of caveman. I could be chill now that the ladies were on it. I grinned. Angie wouldn't know what hit her once the James women got a hold of her. I actually feel sorry for her—oh, sweetness… you just wait—hopefully this time tomorrow, my girl would be back in my arms, then I’d show her what happens to naughty little runaways.

>   Just thinking about makeup sex lifted my mood considerably—maybe I should see about those power tools, I’ll bet the Hustler store has have some interesting toys. I could swing by after I got something to eat.

  Kelly had just set a basket of wings in front of me when my phone vibrated inside my jacket—yes, my women work fast! “Hey”

  “What happened?” Shit, not Angie: Jack.

  “Stephanie.”

  “I was afraid of that.”

  “Is she okay? I don’t know all of what happened, and she’s not answering her phone.”

  “She’s not talking. What do ya say we get a beer.” Shit, this wasn’t a request.

  “I’m at Suds right now getting something to eat.”

  “Okay, I’ll join you after I get some food in my girl.”

  “I’ll be here.” Well at least he wasn’t flying off the handle, but he wasn’t going to be happy when he found out how poorly I handled this shit.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  The Wonderful Thing About Tiggers, Absolutely Nothing

  I’d been in my room staring at the ceiling since Daddy and I came home. And if Daddy was surprised by Mat’s absence, I was relieved he kept it to himself because I wasn't ready to talk yet, not about him. I was too raw. God, if it hurt this much after just two weeks, I should be glad I walked away before I grew any more attached. I’d better stick with mice, or I’d get chewed up like Ashley—so the sex wouldn’t great, there’s more to a relationship than sex—I could hear my inner skank snort as she gave me her back—it’s going to be hard getting that genie back in the bottle.

  “Baby girl, I made dinner.”

  “Thanks Daddy, but I’m not really hungry.”

  “Come keep your old man company.”

  “Okay, I’ll be out in a minute.” Thank God all his tests were negative. His getting hurt was a wakeup call; I wouldn't take him for granted. Letting go of Mat was difficult, but losing Daddy? I’d never survive that. So, I left my pool of apathy, and dragged myself to the bathroom, flipping on the lights.