by Kendra Riley
Dante had no idea she was going to be there. He had no idea that she was going to be in the office still. He had wanted to stop thinking about her, in all aspects. Essentially, her face could easily drown in a sea of beautiful models. Or, that was what would probably make her stand out. She was no conventional beauty- that was for sure, but he liked looking at her. She didn’t care to hide her freckles, and her hair was a bit unruly but fun at the same time. It was clear she was a mix of cultures, her skin and hair said it all.
And here, he had thought that he would stop thinking about her the moment she left. Apparently, their little foreplay in the pantry was meant to be. She was as hot for him as he was for her. It was not love at first sight. He was just a single man, playing the field. She happened to feel the same way. He didn’t know anything about her, but the way she handled his teasing earlier, it said volumes about her.
He’d have wanted to get to know her better, only his lust got in the way. It had been that long. He knew that the tabloids all mentioned he was dating whichever model this time, but the truth was, he was alone, and he hadn’t gotten laid in a few months now. Seeing Aniya made his blood surge, it made him think thoughts that had long been buried by work and stress.
There was that fine line with what he had done. Foreplay, he knew, and at least the feeling was mutual, was it not? And she didn’t even know him. He almost laughed. What were the odds? He had expected some sense of recognition from her, but there was none, which made him like her even more. She had no idea who he was. Which meant that she didn’t read tabloids, ignored gossip, and didn’t care about social status.
He had walked away, not wanting to look at her, for fear that he would lose control and just take her then and there. Walk away, walk away, he had told himself, knowing that there was nothing else he could do. He had to maintain that nonchalance. He wasn’t fearful of being reported at all. Aniya wasn’t going to do that. He didn’t even know her surname yet. There was only one way to find out, and it wasn’t going to be through social media at all. Back inside the exhibit room, his mother and aunt, and a few other peers were laughing over something. He whispered to his aunt that he needed to borrow her phone for a moment. Anna didn’t even bother to ask why, but she asked Dante to take a photo of them, to which he obliged. Before giving it back to her, he quickly scrolled through Anna’s contacts, and then he found her name. Aniya Compton. He smiled and quickly memorized her number, and then he gave the phone back to his slightly inebriated aunt.
“Dante,” his mother called out to him.
“Yes, mama?” he began, walking up to her.
“Don’t forget our family dinner this coming weekend,” Marissa told him.
He took a quick breath. “Yes, yes of course.”
He disliked family dinners, especially if there were other relatives in tow. It was just a casual dinner, there was no need to dress up, but what he didn’t like was the small talk that came from his relatives, and his mother.
They would be asking him about his current relationship status, and tease him about marriage. It was insipid, in a way, which was expected from certain people in life, even aunts and uncles, and first cousins.
“Good, good,” his mother said, “I’ll see you then.”
“I’ll be going ahead,” he told her.
His mother nodded and dismissed him with a pat on the cheek, like she had always done since he could remember. It was her way of showing affection. She had never been that hands-on, loving mother that the media had portrayed her to be. Marissa del Prado Santoro had a wall built around her, even to her own family.
Aloof. That was the word for his mother’s personality. How his father and mother managed to even have any affection for each other was beyond him. Governesses had reared him and his sister Catalina, since they were toddlers. It was a miracle they made it out with emotional and mental stability, although Dante knew that there were bound to be issues.
He walked out of the building, and into the cool night air. He didn’t quite care for chauffeurs, even if he could afford three on a daily basis. Driving alone meant he could give quality time to his thoughts, without the need to maintain niceties with anyone. Sure, he knew he was pleasant, but he had his cruel streaks, streaks that had probably stemmed from an environment that lacked motherly warmth.
Inside his car, he dialed for her number. He couldn’t resist. He had been left wanting. Wanting for more. More of her, more of him inside her, he thought. The phone rang six times, until someone picked it up. Aniya sounded breathless at the end of the line.
“Hello?” her voice began. “Hello?”
Dante closed his eyes and ended the call. This wasn’t good for him. She was just another woman, just another candidate for momentary dating. How was he going to do this? He should have thought it through, he knew he did, but it was a lapse- it was a lapse to even seduce her. She was all over him, and she wanted him, the way he wanted her. Naked, moaning, gyrating against him…
Sighing, he turned on the ignition, and sped for home.
***
She thought at first that he had chickened out. Aniya had quickly gathered her belongings and left the building, ready to go back to her little apartment, with her little Isabella. She walked home as fast as she could, her flats treading softly against the pavement.
That was a mistake, she knew. It should never have happened. The change in his tone was already a sign. He was a man looking for some quick fun. No matter his stature in life, men were all the same, she thought savagely.
Was it so hard to look for a decent man, nowadays? As soon as she got home, she saw Isabella fast asleep, and her babysitter poring over her notes. She gladly gave the babysitter overtime pay, thanking her profusely. “You’re a life saver,” she said to the collegiate girl.
Lying beside Isabella later on, she couldn’t help but stroke her child’s hair, enjoying that powdery scent her child still had. It wasn’t going to be like this forever, she knew. Isabella was going to grow up, and she was going to grow up fast. She didn’t want to miss it for the world. Her phone rang all of a sudden, and she bolted upright, praying it wasn’t Anna asking her to come back to the office. It was an unknown number.
“Hello?” she said. There was no sound at the end of the line. And then the call ended.
For a moment, she thought that Dante Santoro had gotten her number. It was a long shot. He only used her to boost his ego, she knew, but she couldn’t forget the way his hands felt, couldn’t forget his touch. She had wanted more of him, if only he hadn’t stopped. The asshole.
Aniya thought she had almost betrayed her daughter’s trust. As a mother, she didn’t want to be that irresponsible. No room for that kind of life, specifically a love life. She started pacing about the apartment, making mental notes for the groceries and other chores she would have to do with Isabella tomorrow.
Her phone rang once more. It was the same number that had called her earlier. “Hello? Look, I’m really tired, if this is a prank call-“
“You didn’t do much earlier,” the voice on the other line interrupted her. “Why are you tired?”
Her heart stopped for a moment. “Mr. Santoro?”
“Dante, if you will.”
“You- you called me earlier,” she stammered. “I didn’t hear you, though.”
“Well, yeah, I wasn’t sure if it was your number. Had to reconfirm. Also the signal wasn’t good inside the building.”
He sounded so full of himself that she wanted to end the call. “Dante, I have to go.”
“Where do you live?” he asked her.
“Why?”
“I’m curious. I’m driving around tonight, looking for a nice place to have a drink.”
“Alone?”
“Yes, alone. Unless you’d like to accompany me.”
“I can’t.” Not after what you did to me earlier, jerk.
“Because?”
“I’m tired.”
“What about tomorrow?”
“
I have stuff to do.”
“I assume you’re off on weekends?”
“Sometimes, I’m not,” she quickly said. It was true. Sometimes she did have work on the weekends. This weekend was not one of them.
“It didn’t directly answer my query. How about we have coffee tomorrow?”
“I can’t.”
“You sound so negative.”
“I’m not,” Aniya insisted, wanting to end the call, knowing he was trying to ease his way into her heart, or into her panties. “I really have to-”
“I meant it earlier,” he said. “I find you really attractive.”
It was something men always said, right? “I don’t.”
“Sounds like a lie, even if it is over the phone,” he told her.
“You’re a dick, you know that.”
“Some part of me is,” he admitted, laughing a little.
She found it hard not to smile. “I don’t think this is in our best interest.”
“Look, it’s just coffee, no commitment required. So, where do you live?”
“We haven’t had coffee yet,” she told him. “You can’t just ask me where I live.”
“I’m around the neighborhood, I think.”
“You’re a creep, a stalker.”
“I said I think,” he told her. “Like I said, driving around. So I’ll know where to pick you up tomorrow.”
“I don’t need you to pick me up. I can go there on my own, wherever it is.”
“So that’s a yes?”
She could hear the smile in his voice. Damn it. Wrong response. What was wrong with her? Why was she being awkward with a guy on the phone? Of course it would be awkward, she thought, he did just feel his way up me.
“No, it’s not a yes.”
“I don’t take ‘maybe’ as an answer. It’s either a yes or no, so I know I’m not wasting my time.”
She frowned, disliking how self-centered he seemed. He was a businessman, right? A different kind of businessman. Ruthless, calculating, almost cold. Almost, if it weren’t for those damned warm, and beautiful blue eyes…
“Fine,” she heard herself say, and if only she could kick herself, she would have. His pull was magnetic, and she had never seen him as charming as now, well over the phone. He had this sneer once in a while that made her think of those villains in Isabella’s cartoon shows that she didn’t approve of.
“Alright, now for the matter of where you live,” he continued, almost businesslike.
“The matter of where I live is none of your business, actually.”
“I won’t make fun of your apartment, it’s not how I am.”
She did think about that, but she also thought about the effect it would have on Isabella. She had never introduced Isabella to men who weren’t related to them, at least. The little girl lacked a father figure, and this possible date was not one of those men who could be it.
“I’m by Calle Buenavista. Near a small paella place.”
“Ah, Pedro’s Paella?”
“How do you know?”
“Well, we have a few properties somewhere there.”
“You mean you own the whole street?” she said wryly.
“Just a few properties,” he told her. “Well, I’ll see you.”
“See you.”
She ended the call, and the entire conversation left her feeling strange. Discomfort, was that it? No, just plain weird. She didn’t know if she liked it or not, but the attention was on her. After so long? I shouldn’t revel in this kind of attention. Men like him are after one thing, and one thing only. He didn’t even know that she had-
Her doorbell rang. Frowning, she wondered who it was. It was past eleven in the evening, and she didn’t expect visitors this late, in fact she didn’t expect visitors since she had given birth to Isabella. She peered through the peephole, and her heart almost stopped. Dante Santoro was in front of her house. He rang the doorbell again, and again, and she quickly opened the door, afraid that Isabella would wake up from the sudden noise.
“What in the hell are you doing here?” she hissed.
“I did say I was going to see you,” he said.
“I thought you meant tomorrow!”
“Well, we both thought wrong,” he calmly said. “Oh, you’re washing dishes? Great, I got takeout, and a bottle of wine to chug down.”
“We are not doing this.”
“You don’t seem very busy.”
His voice was at a normal tone, loud enough to probably wake Isabella. She hoped it wouldn’t be that loud. She shook her head. “Get out. Go home. Please.” She had added the please as an afterthought. She didn’t want to be rude to someone who was part of the board, she didn’t want to be rude to someone who was technically her boss.
He walked past her, as if he didn’t hear a thing. He looked around her apartment, and Aniya watched with rapt amazement and annoyance. How thick could he get? She was about to open her mouth once more, when he walked towards her small dining table--office, placing his takeout and bottle of wine there.
“Cozy place you got here,” he said, turning to face her.
Her bedroom door was ajar, and she saw his eyes trailing towards it. She stepped in front of him. “I really think you should go home.”
“Why? You hiding someone here?” He stopped, pausing at the doorway, staring at her daughter fast asleep. He looked at her, momentary confusion in his eyes. He didn’t say anything at first.
The silence was almost ear-piercing. Say something. Say something, she told herself. “Quiet. You’ll wake her up.”
She could hear his breathing, and she saw that change in his eyes, they clouded over. They weren’t cold, but they looked distracted, some flicker of annoyance flashed in them, too. He nodded at her, and it almost seemed like a bow of sorts.
“My apologies, I was too loud,” he told her. “Excuse me, and I hope you’ll enjoy the food. You can heat that up if you want it for breakfast.”
His voice became serious, crisp, and almost business-like. The playfulness had gone from his eyes and his lips. “Good night, Miss Compton.”
There was a soft click as the door closed, and Aniya found herself staring at if for almost a minute. It was a long minute. What had just happened? He had seen her daughter. Not that she was trying to hide her daughter, she was proud of Isabella. She hadn’t taken into account, however, the reaction a single man would have. Perhaps, seeing his prospective date with a daughter was too much for his ego.
Well mister, not everyone is single and attractive, and without responsibilities, like kids, Aniya suddenly thought with ferocity. An anger coursed through her. It wasn’t annoyance. It was anger. That ugly feeling of rejection twice in one night. He had thought he would come into her home, woo her, seduce her, and then get away with it? She harshly bolted the door, not noticing that her hands were shaking.
Damn you, Dante. Damn you to hell.
***
“I don’t take ‘maybe’ as an answer. It’s either a yes or no, so I know I’m not wasting my time,” he told her, enjoying the thought of how uncomfortable she most probably was by now. She wasn’t a pushover, he knew, but rank had its privileges.
“Fine,” she finally relented, and he found himself smiling as he drove around the area at a snail’s pace. He had wanted to go home earlier, but changed course, suddenly gathering the courage to call her once more, and this time, he planned to talk. Talk he did.
“Alright, now for the matter of where you live,” he continued, hoping this plan was going to work. He had brought wine, knowing the party lacked the kind of wine he liked. The initial plan was to drink alone, but only fools did not change their minds.
“The matter of where I live is none of your business, actually,” came her brusque reply. She wasn’t playing hard to get, he knew. Perhaps, she had felt so scorned that he had abruptly stopped his seduction of her earlier.
“I won’t make fun of your apartment, it’s not how I am,” he told her. He was earnest about this
response. It wasn’t in him to scorn at the misfortune of others, and it wasn’t in him to pull other people down for their successes, either. She seemed hesitant. She must have had her heart broken or something. Everyone had a sob story, and maybe hers included a failed relationship. She just didn’t want to make things easy for him, and she didn’t even know it.
“I’m by Calle Buenavista. Near a small paella place.”
“See you,” she replied.
Aniya ended the call on him, which meant it gave him enough time to check on where she was. He didn’t have the master key to everything, but he did know who the landlord was. The landlord was in his late fifties, and he quickly gave the man a call to be let in the building. The landlord didn’t even ask what his purpose was, but he was greeted well, despite the late hour.
He rang her doorbell, impatiently pressing on it twice, before the door flung open. There she stood in her cotton nightie. It was almost cute to look at. She had washed the makeup off of her face, but she still looked fresh and youthful. He had expected tired and completely different. He had been proven wrong. She didn’t look too happy to see him.
“What in the hell are you doing here?”
“I did say I was going to see you,” he said with a slight smile.
“I thought you meant tomorrow!” she reasoned out, sounding frantic.
“Well, we both thought wrong,” he calmly told her. He saw her holding up a sponge in her hand, still filled with suds. “Oh, you’re washing dishes? Great, I got takeout, and a bottle of wine to chug down.”
“We are not doing this.”
“You don’t seem very busy,” he intoned.
He saw that she shook her head. “Get out. Go home. Please.”
She said please. Almost as if she was begging for him to stop looking around. There was not much to see, he knew. It was a one bedroom apartment, and she had kept it as neatly as she could. He saw kid’s things in one corner, and he wondered if she babysat during the weekends, or if she had nieces and nephews. He ignored her request, instead he walked about, observing thing quickly, without poring through the details. He placed his takeout and wine on the table, wondering if her bedroom was as messy slash neat as her living room, dining table cum office, and kitchen. He saw her quickly wash her hands, wiping them with a towel hanging by the fridge.