Hush, Hush

Hush, Hush Page 26

by Franco, Lucia

  I tell Grammy about my idea for the nonprofit I want to open up for women and children. She seems to love it and makes small talk about the times we volunteered over the years and how it inspired me without realizing it. Grammy starts coughing and reaches over the table and plucks a tissue to cover her mouth. The cough strengthens, like it's deep in her lungs. The sounds she's making worries me and I rush to the kitchen to get her a glass of water.

  "Are you okay?" I ask once her coughing subsides. She sips the water slowly and I look at her with concern.

  She points to her throat. "My babies shed so bad. I think a piece of cat hair tickled my throat. Every once in a while that happens and it sounds like I'm hacking up a lung. Thank you for the water."

  I grimace, my mouth twisted up.

  "Cat hair doesn't cause a wet cough, though, or for you to cough as long as you did."

  She glares at me. "Are you suddenly a doctor?"

  I flatten my lips. "No."

  "A vet?"

  I don't answer her.

  "Then leave it be. I had a tickle in my throat. That's all."

  I bite the side of my lip. "I can't help that I worry about you."

  "It's not your job to worry about me. Now listen," she says, petting the cat in her lap a little too aggressively now. "Do titles mean anything to you?"

  My head angles to the side. "What do you mean?"

  "For instance, is it important for you to be able to say that you're a CEO, or a doctor, or a director of some company?"

  "No, not really."

  "Would it make you happy?"

  "I don't think so?"

  "What if it could guarantee to make you wealthy?"

  "Well, money does make the world go round, so I say yes."

  "But is money worth sacrificing your happiness and your future for a job that has the potential to make you miserable, one you despise having to wake up and go to every day?"

  I counter her. "What if I learn to love my money-making, amazing job title because it's what I should do and not what I want to do?"

  "What if you don't learn to love it? What if you spend years wishing you had opened your nonprofit instead?"

  I consider her questions and realize I'm in a bigger jam than I thought. I don't want to be unhappy—no one does—but I want security.

  I shift on the couch, a little uncomfortable under her unyielding gaze. I wonder when I fell so madly in love with money, and if I’m either blinded by it, or because I had so little, I want as much as I can get now. Financial security has always been my ultimate goal, and now that I have it, I don’t see myself stopping. I want more. Taking this deal with James would make it so myself and Grammy would never want for anything. Ever again. It’s simply something I couldn’t pass up, even if I wanted to.

  “Honestly, it’s a tough one. I don’t care about the title, but money comes with a good job title anyway. And isn't that why everyone goes to school to get the best job they can? To live a comfortable life without worry? To travel the world and buy a house in the boring suburbs and have two-point-five kids one day?"

  "Aubrey," she says, a little disappointed. "If you aren't happy in the end with your decision, how will any of that bring you happiness? Because it's what you're supposed to do? Says who? I'll never tell you not to do something, and I won't make the choice for you, but I hope you sit down and really think about what you want and make the right decision for yourself and no one else. Lord knows we didn't have a lot over the years, but I had a job I loved, and even though you had so little, you didn't know any better and were always smiling. People think they need money to make them happy, but what people forget is that we create our own happiness. Whether you have ten dollars or a hundred, that happiness is still created inside you."

  I exhale a stressed breath, feeling so overwhelmed. "Would it be wrong if I opened a nonprofit? I feel like in my heart it's the right thing to do."

  "You're your own boss right now. Do what you feel is right. Patience and trust in yourself are what'll give you happiness and a place where you want to be, and that's something you can be proud of in the end. If you focus on good things, good things will come to you. I know it might not seem like that right now, or maybe when you were younger, but life has a way of working out the way it's supposed to. You'll see."

  Leaning over, I give Grammy a huge, long hug. She feels so cold, even with the layers of clothes, so I reach for the blanket behind me to cover her, then I rest my head on her shoulder and cuddle up to her. The tightness in my chest feels a little lighter sitting next to Grammy, and I realize I didn't know how much I needed her until just now.

  She pats the side of my head lovingly. Her fingers are icy but I nestle closer to her anyway.

  "Since when did you become so wise?" I ask, watching her pet the little fur ball on her lap.

  "It comes with age, my dear. One day you'll understand."

  Forty-Two

  "Are you going to stay over? I'd love for you to stay for once," Daniel says, his finger dragging lazily down my arm.

  For once. I grimace inwardly, thankful he can't see my face. He wraps an arm around my waist, holding me to him. Daniel nestles closer to my back. I never stay over, no matter how many times he's asked me. I feel bad, but I like my privacy. While I should stay over sometime soon, it won't be during a damn blizzard where I’ll be trapped.

  "Maybe next time I will when I'm a little more prepared," I lie, kind of.

  "What's this from?"

  I lift my head and look down at my arm.

  Fuck. A bruise from James.

  I’d purposely stayed away from Daniel this week, telling him I had my nanny job because of the bite marks James left. They needed to heal. Teeth marks had covered my breasts and back, which resulted in little bruises. I smiled every time I saw them. Most of the marks and discoloration are gone, but I guess this one had a little more resilience than the others.

  My body warms thinking about what his teeth had done to me, how he’d made the pleasure intensify when he bit down and surged inside me simultaneously. I squeeze my thighs together, pushing back the desire that's finally climbing. God, what's wrong with me? I couldn't even get off when I had sex with my boyfriend, yet here I am wet and ready at just the thought of James.

  "Huh. I must've walked into a door or something."

  "Or one of the kids you babysit bit you."

  "What do you mean?" I frown and look harder. Oh my God. There's an obvious mouth imprint.

  I decide to shrug it off and act blasé. "Oh, I wouldn't be surprised if that's what happened. I've told you the kids are little fucking monsters."

  "Maybe the parents should have the kids tested to see if there's a learning disability there."

  I turn over to face Daniel. "They're just kids. I wouldn't think anything of it."

  "Some kids can't express themselves and bite to get the frustration out, which can lead to more behavioral issues."

  "There are no behavioral issues." I feel defensive over the fake kids for some asinine reason. "And honestly, how many kids can express themselves at two years old? They're normal little monsters. If I were their parent I wouldn’t worry. Maybe if they were seven I would, but two? Come on. It's not like they walk around just chomping on people."

  His eyes harden like I offended him. "I'm a doctor, Aubrey. I see things like this all the time. They need to be evaluated. You should take the issue to the parents."

  I'm a doctor. Ugh. Gag me.

  I swear Daniel wasn't like this when I first met him, but I feel like lately he's been showing this closeted, loftier side the more comfortable he gets. I can't fucking stand when people walk around announcing what they do for a living, as if they should be held to a higher standard than normal folk like myself. Yes, being a doctor is a selfless career and not for everyone, but he doesn’t have to be a know-it-all.

  Plastering on a cheesy smile, I roll him onto his back and drop a kiss to his lips. "I'll bring it up to the parents for you, but I don't want to

talk about it anymore."

  Internally, I'm cursing James for that bite mark. This is so ridiculous, but since I live a lie when I'm with Daniel, I guess its par for the course. Sadly.

  Daniel holds the back of my head and guides my lips to him. My hair falls around us as he says, "Thank you," and kisses me. "Sometimes the physician in me comes out and I don't mean for it to."

  The candor in his voice relaxes the tension in my neck, washing away the sour taste in my mouth. I can tell he means it and now I'm wondering if I'm just projecting because my guilty conscience is getting to me, making me edgy. I'm finding fault in things that probably don't need to be looked at.

  Sitting up, the sheet slides down my back as I straddle his hips. I grab his hands and place them on my breasts, wanting to feel him. He gives me a tender squeeze and I lean into his palms.

  His eyes lower, teeth digging into his bottom lip, and his hands move to grip my hips. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you love sex. Are maybe even addicted to it."

  I rock my hips insanely slow, dragging my pussy over his hardening length a few times so he feels that I'm wet and ready.

  "Is that your diagnosis, doctor?" I say, slipping into my Valentina voice.

  "I love when you fucking ride me," he groans, and I purposely pull my hips back to capture the tip of his cock and push my swollen sex over his length. His jaw flexes, nostrils flare. I can tell he really does love it. "I want you to turn around and sit on my cock like that."

  A sigh escapes my throat at the thought.

  "Stay the night."

  I tilt my head to the side. "Daniel…" I say softly.

  He sits up and presses his chest to mine. Wrapping his arms around my shoulders, he says, "Stay with me and I'll do whatever and anything you want. I want to wake up with you in my arms, Aubrey. Stay the night, please."

  "What if we get snowed in for three days and you want me to leave but I can't?"

  "I beg to differ. I've been asking you to stay for a while now. What's next?"

  "I like to sleep naked."

  "No complaints here. Next."

  "I snore."

  "I know you're lying. Next."

  "I kick when I sleep."

  "I'll kick you back."

  My head falls back and I start laughing. Daniel presses his mouth to my neck and places sweet kisses down the column to my shoulder. My laughter changes into a hum.

  "Is that a yes?" he asks, his voice deep.

  I hesitate for a long moment. "You're going to regret it."

  "Somehow I doubt that," he says, then reaches between us and enters me in one swift motion.

  This time, I climax.

  * * *

  "Aub? Where the hell have you been?" Natalie says the moment I walk into our apartment two days later.

  Throwing my keys onto the table, I give her an apologetic look as I place my purse down and tug my coat off.

  "I'm sorry. My cell died and Daniel has a lame Samsung. I didn't have a charger and I wasn't going out to buy one in the crazy weather."

  Her jaw drops, eyes widening. "I almost put out an Amber Alert on your dumb ass. Why didn't you call me from his phone?"

  I give her a droll stare. "I did. You didn't answer."

  "No, you didn't."

  "I did," I say. "I called the night I decided to stay."

  Natalie picks up her cell phone and scans it. Shaking her head, she says, "You're crazy. I don't have a missed call from you."

  I frown, thinking back to that night and how drunk we’d gotten. My face twists up into a smirk of embarrassment.

  "I wonder who I called then because someone got a drunk message from me and apparently it wasn't you."

  She shakes her head and grins. "You got a special delivery. Some package."

  "I did?"

  "I put it in your bedroom."

  We both walk into my room and there's a big white box with a satin bow wrapped around it. I'm dumbfounded wondering where it came from.

  Pulling off the lid of the box, I place it on the bed and find a card lying on top of the black tissue paper.

  "Oh, so seductive," Natalie says, her voice animated. I take the card out and read it with Natalie leaning over my shoulder.

  A limo will pick you up at 8pm on Saturday. Looking forward to seeing you again. Expect to stay the night with me. Until Saturday, sweetheart.

  A knot forms in my throat. My stomach plunges to the ground. I instantly feel sick.

  James.

  Thank God he didn't sign it.

  "Who's it from?"

  "Ah, Daniel. No wonder he pushed to have me sleep at his place. He must've wanted to surprise me," I lie through my teeth. "He mentioned some dinner event for his work." Not necessarily a lie.

  I place the card on the bed and move the tissue around, and pull out another box. Inside there's a pair of sky-high rose gold pumps that shimmer against the window light. They're classy and scream sex rolled into one.

  "Red bottoms. Nice, so he's got taste. What else is in there?"

  There's another box, this one a little heavier and I already know what it is. Flipping the top back, there's a matching strapless cocktail dress covered in rhinestones.

  "Wow."

  I pick it up and hold it to my body. I glance down. It's heavier than it looks, but small, and I don't know if my boobs will fit inside. It's just as gorgeous as the shoes and I can't wait to try it on.

  "Okay. What kind of money does Danny boy make? Because that's a Badgley Mischka dress, and not off the rack either."

  “You can tell that at first glance?"

  "Oh, yeah." Her eyes drop to the black tissue. "Oh hey, there's another box."

  "Take it out and open it," I tell her, holding onto the dress still.

  Natalie does, and we both gasp at the glittering jewels inside. Dainty diamond teardrop earrings that will complement the dress perfectly along with a slender ring. Leaning over, Natalie looks inside the box and rifles through some more, then turns around and walks out without saying anything.

  Fuck. My. Life.

  The next time I see James I'm going to have to set some boundaries, like not sending gifts to the home I share with his daughter, regardless if they're anonymous or not. I feel nauseous, and even though I know this gift is for the event he mentioned, I can’t live on eggshells worrying if he’ll try something like this again.

  "Here. You're going to need this," Natalie says, storming back into my room with her hand out. She's holding her favorite beige Chanel clutch. A vintage she paid an exorbitant amount of money for on eBay.

  "Oh, Nat, I can't."

  She shoves it at me. "Nope. Take it. You need a purse, and this one will complete your outfit. Trust me."

  Hesitantly, I take it and thank her. A tightness spreads throughout my chest from the guilt consuming me. I try to take small, inconspicuous breaths so she doesn't notice the panic attack rising inside me. There's a throbbing on the side of my head near my temple and I’m terrified I’m going to break.

  Natalie clucks her tongue in approval.

  "I don't know what you're doing to keep Danny happy, but whatever it is, keep doing it. That dress is going to look stellar on you. Oh! Let's do natural makeup. Does he like your hair up or down?" When I don't respond, she leans around to look at me and says, "What's wrong?"

  I shake it off, eyeing the bounty. "Nothing, I'm just surprised is all. Down. He likes my hair down," I say quietly.

  "Perfect. We'll do loose, wavy curls. When he sees you, he's not going to be able to take his hands off you."

  Natalie squeals. She's so eager. If I was in a better mood, I would've made fun of her for it, but I'm not.

  "I'm so excited for you! I bet he fucks you senseless in the limo before you even get there." She rolls her eyes and fans herself. "So hot."

  Natalie elbows me and I offer her a timid smile. I'm too ashamed to look at her.

  If she only knew she was actually talking about her dad.

  Forty-Three