SIR

by R. J. Lewis

  Ouch.

  Man, what a bitch.

  First of all, the dress was pretty expensive. Like sixty bucks or something. And I like it. I look over it now. It’s really pretty and makes my body look good.

  Second of all, my hair dye wasn’t cheap either. Jeesh, I wish it were cheap. No, Steven took care of that for me by sending me to this illogically expensive salon where they massage your head for an hour while giving you facials and overpriced coffee on a tray with a bunch of these weird named pastries. It was good coffee, though, and the pastries were to die for, so…I guess the moral of the story here is the rich have good coffee and quality hair dye, and next time you get a head massage, make sure your moustache is waxed so you don’t wind up feeling conscious.

  “I’m not trying to impress anyone,” I say politely, though it feels like I’m eating nails doing so. However, I’m supposed to be cordial. Steven was very adamant I don’t get fired for being a bitch, and something tells me Nina may have a hold on Aidan. She did once before; it wouldn’t be farfetched to assume she would again. I have to sort this out as soon as humanely possible.

  “Good,” she says, but she doesn’t believe me. “We wouldn’t want to make an ass out of ourselves by thinking that someone might be Aidan.”

  I pause and throw my head back, letting out a sarcastic laugh. “Oh, God no! Can you imagine trying to impress Mr West? That guy goes through women like no one’s business. I feel bad for any one of them that didn’t know they had an expiry date stamped on their forehead.”

  With that I give her a cool look and open the door. I pick the suitcase up with one last hoorah and disappear inside. I see her fuming face for a split second before I slam the door.

  Fuck you, Nina. Your hours here are numbered.

  Three

  Ivy

  I’ve got a few hours to kill before it gets dark. I don’t want to sit idle because I’ll wind up feeling overwhelmed. Noticing Nina is absent from the patio, I step outside and explore the perimeters. This place is remarkable and so green, my senses are soaking it all in after years of sprawling buildings and concrete jungle.

  What’s most refreshing about the yard is that there isn’t a sprawling underground pool like you’d expect from such a wealthy estate. It’s green grass all the way to the hill, and then it’s interrupted by tall, thick trees, and then it appears to be shade all the way down to the river.

  Not that I’d know for sure, because halfway down the hill I hear Nina’s voice a short distance away. I stop short, peering through the trees, quickly catching sight of her.

  She’s groping a tree, her ass is in the air, and another man is kneeling before her, snapping pictures. What the hell? Is she having a photoshoot out here? She doesn’t notice me in the background, too involved in herself, and I can’t look away from this train wreck.

  “How many likes do you think this is gonna get, Mike?” she asks distractedly. “Should I look more spiritual?”

  The photographer makes a deep, almost erotic sound. “Oh, belle rose, you look like the goddess of spirituality.”

  “Does she have a name?”

  “It’s Nina now.”

  Oh, my fucking God.

  Rolling my eyes, I back away.

  I’m not comfortable enough to walk past her. What a sad admission, but it’s true. She’s taken over this entire estate and I’ve been here hardly a minute. I’m feeling weird and out of sorts knowing she’s even here and I’ve just caught her hugging a tree half-naked.

  I wind up returning to my suite because that’s enough exploring for one day, and honestly, what the fuck is even happening?

  The suitcase is in the tiny living room. I’ve opened it and dug around for a change of clothes and some girly products. I’m sweating and need a shower and sort of dreading that experience because this suite isn’t winning me over.

  There must be a god because the shower runs smoothly. Inside I greet a spider that’s sitting comfortably in the corner, staring at me. I have a feeling I’m going to be really lonely here, so I stare at the nasty freak and say, “I shall name you Philotes, after the god of friendship.”

  Philotes fucks right off to another corner.

  Savage.

  I sigh and wash my body, ridding the grime and repulsion (thanks Nina) of today. Then I get out of the shower and sit down on the edge of the tub, drying myself. I sit there for a long time, trying to shut off emotions that are threatening to surface. I’m really good at pushing it all down, so I swallow every single emotion as it comes up, but the same thought runs through my head.

  Aidan is in this house and he still feels like a million miles away.

  *

  I’m beginning to change into my pajamas when I feel vibrations. I follow the sound of music to the living room. It’s coming from the other side of my door. I can hear chatter. The voices are loud but muffled. I can’t make out words, but I can take a guess what’s going on.

  Aidan is throwing a party here, in his beautiful Georgian home, in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. Maybe these are neighbors and they live close-by. Maybe I shouldn’t be so curious because I’ve heard enough about Aidan’s parties to know literally anybody could be on the opposite side. Like strippers and go-go girls and people getting loaded. I wasn’t interested enough to view pictures that lived down those tales, but now…now I need to know.

  I change into my dress again and then I open the door. Before I can stop myself, I step out.

  *

  It is chaos.

  There are people everywhere. Music is thumping from all directions. Different songs in different rooms coming together over laughter and bellows and other sounds I can’t distinguish. I smell alcohol and people, and I am five steps from my suite and already weaving through a crowd of bodies.

  I glance outside and pause. Just…utter chaos. People are all over the manicured yard, being loud and rumbunctious. I don’t spot Aidan among them, so I carry on.

  I’m invisible in this place. No one blinks in my direction as I move from room to room, trying to hunt Aidan down because I’m tormenting myself, needing to know where he is in this mess.

  But I can’t find him.

  This home was so clean just an hour ago, and now my bare feet are crunching on crumbs and dirt and trash. I feel so bad for Tilda.

  I find Nina in one of the rooms. Her claws on a chalkboard voice is inescapable, even in this loud mess. She doesn’t notice me as I pass by dancing bodies and girls in bikini tops. Couples are pressed against walls, making out; there are a few poker games set up in the front room and more dancing bodies as I climb up the staircase and to the top floor.

  The smell of alcohol is stronger up here. People are not as energetic on this floor. They’re lazing around, talking over the music, every hand cradling a drink, eyes glazed. I walk through a cloud of smoke, sidestep another intimate couple and continue my hunt for Aidan.

  But he is nowhere to be seen.

  How does the man of the house disappear?

  I don’t know what to make of this. My curiosity is a sickness, and I’m fighting hard to mute my paranoia. Feeling defeated, I turn around and begin to move down the hallway, my steps quick. I’m moving so fast, I don’t have time to slow down when a body turns into the hallway just as I’m at the end of it and crashes into me. My head hits a hard chest and large hands immediately grasp my arms to steady me.

  I look up, dizzy, staring into deep brown eyes, but they’re not Aidan’s. The face looking back at me is familiar, only I don’t know this man.

  But…

  But he’s absolutely beautiful.

  “Watch out, turbo,” he smirks, his eyes alive as he stares down at me.

  I hover for a moment, lost in his gaze, trying to place him. Around my age, he’s tall and broad and handsome in a way that is boyish and charming.

  Why is he so damn familiar?

  “Sorry,” I mutter inaudibly.

  “What or who are you running away from?” he asks, that smile sti
ll dazzling me.

  Confused, I say, “No one.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure.”

  “Your heart okay?”

  I pause, brows coming together at the bizarre question this stranger just asked me. He reads my expression, and his smile softens.

  “You’ve got a look on your face like you’re about to fall apart,” he explains. “I’m happy to flatten the face of the guy that’s responsible for putting it there.”

  “I’m fine,” I tell him quickly. “Really.”

  “So, it’s natural for you to look like a jilted lover?”

  What? The question is so incredulous, I literally spit that out. “What?”

  “I said, is it natural for you look like someone’s ripped your heart out of you?”

  “You said jilted lover.”

  “Well, are you?”

  “What?”

  His brows shoot up. “A jilted lover.”

  Am I seriously having this conversation with this guy?

  I shoot him a look. “Do you always ask personal questions two seconds into bumping into someone?”

  “Only someone that looks as miserable as you.”

  “I am not miserable,” I fire out, surprised at how defensive I sound.

  “You sure about that?” His eyes light up as he laughs at me. Laughs. At. Me.

  Irritation flares through me and, realizing his hands are still wrapped around my arms, I shrug away his touch and step away from him.

  “I think I know what I’m feeling,” I snap.

  He grins. “Feisty.”

  “No, just annoyed,” I icily correct.

  “Hmm.” He stares at me for a solid moment, and I’m beginning to wonder why I’m still standing there when he asks softly, “Want to dance with me?”

  I blink as my heart thuds harder at the heated way he’s staring at me. He just asked me to dance with him, and I’m shocked at myself because I just took a few seconds to consider it.

  Clearing my voice, I shake my head. “No.”

  “No?” he repeats, surprised.

  “No,” I say again, this time harder.

  “You sound uncertain.”

  “I’m not.”

  “You don’t wanna dance with me?”

  “I said no.”

  “No, you don’t want to, or no, your heart’s too broken to?”

  My lips part. I give him an incredulous look. “What is this obsession with thinking my heart is broken?”

  “Isn’t it?”

  A puff of air escapes my lungs as I retort. “No, and even if it were, it’s none of your business.”

  Another amused chuckle. “Alright, turbo, just asking.”

  I glower at him. “My name is not turbo.”

  “Then what is it?”

  I just stare at him, at the amused look on his face, at the sexy smile he’s shooting me now because clearly he’s used to women falling over themselves at it, and I don’t blame them because, wow, it’s a smile that is crazy alluring and so familiar, I am angry at myself for not being able to place him.

  I straighten my spine. “I’m not telling you,” I declare, and I’m impressed with my fortitude because there’s something about this guy that would have made me want to had he not laughed at me earlier. “Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

  I go to step around him, but he steps in front of me straight away, causing me to bump back into his solid chest. I swallow a gasp. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Taking one more look at you,” he wistfully murmurs, his eyes running over my face.

  Holy shit, what is wrong with this guy?

  My eyes widen, and I’m baffled because he takes his time looking me over. I feel almost violated, but I’m too shocked to react. He’s weird and handsome and he’s got the cheekiest expression I want to slap off him, and I don’t know why I’m not reacting!

  “Can I say one final thing?” he murmurs quietly, his tone surprisingly serious.

  I just stare at him in response, waiting.

  He steps closer and drops his head so his forehead is nearly brushing mine. He looks into my eyes for a fleeting moment and says, “Don’t waste your time on the asshole responsible for putting that look on your face. Plenty of other fish in the sea and some men…well, some of us never change and secretly don’t want to.”

  I swallow, processing his words. I feel a sharp pain in my chest, thinking of Aidan’s cold demeanor today.

  “Thanks for your unsolicited advice,” I retort, but my tone is weak and void of that bite.

  He smiles in response and finally steps aside. “See you around, turbo.”

  I don’t say another word to him—he’s made things awkward—as I move past him and continue to pad away at a slower pace. I can’t help glancing over my shoulder and immediately regret it because he’s spun around, watching me.

  Who the fuck is this guy?

  What a weirdo.

  But damn, I know him from somewhere.

  Swallowing hard, I pick up my pace.

  I don’t want to know who he is. He’s trouble, I can sense it from a mile away. I have enough trouble to deal with as it is with Aidan not remembering me and acting like a jerk and, god, where is he?!

  I return to my suite and shut the door, eager to be away from everyone, especially that handsome, arrogant stranger.

  That was a total bust.

  Wherever Aidan is, he doesn’t want to be found, and that’s better than him being found in the arms of Nina. I admit, I was waiting for it, and feeling that adrenaline coursing through me up until I spotted Nina without him, I guarantee I would have done something I will have regretted had my worries come true.

  I’ve got a pounding headache from smelling that smoke and alcohol. My ears hurt from how loud it is out there. I feel older than I am because I’m already exhausted and just want to call it a night, but I’m still concerned about Aidan.

  I need to know what he’s doing.

  Is there another woman besides Nina I need to worry about?

  The thought makes me ill.

  Feeling blue, I finish changing into a pair of Cookie Monster pajama shorts and giant white tee. This was Aidan’s t-shirt. I kind of stole it when I left his place back when I was a fucking idiot that needed space. Who the hell demands space from an amazingly gentle, filthy-mouthed suited billionaire?

  Me.

  I slide into bed and grab my phone. I haven’t spoken to Ana except to tell her I landed this morning. I try to open the messenger now but I’m not getting any reception. None of my calls are going through either. Ugh. This dungeon has been cut right off and I can’t be fucked going back out there.

  It’s fine, whatever, I’ll just wait until the party is dying down and slip outside. I’m three hours behind Ana anyway, so I should catch her in bed.

  Except now I can feel the minutes as they drag by, and because I can’t go online, it’s suddenly the only thing I want to do.

  I dig out my leatherbound notebook from my suitcase and crawl back into bed. I take the pen out from inside it and flip to a new page. Just before I write, I scroll through my songs, searching for a salve to my wounded heart. I settle on My Silver Lining by First Aid Kit. I shut my eyes, letting the words flow through me. Then I open my eyes and write.

  Not going well at all. He does not remember me. He’s cold and looked at me like I was the greatest annoyance ever. It hurts. I remember he told me once I was no bother to him at all. That man is gone, yet he’s living in a home I envisioned for myself. Why? How did that come to be?

  Nina Hamilton is here too. I hate her already. Did no one warn him she was toxic to him? Surely that sort of warning is okay for him to hear. He does not need to experience her before realizing that, right?

  I might die if I have to see it.

  My hand shakes. I’m emotional. I place the pen back inside and bury my head in the pillow. I take a few deep breaths, trying to calm down. I can’t lose it.

  I must sta
y strong.

  I won’t take the easy road…

  Four

  Ivy

  I stir, opening my eyes. I’ve overslept by hours, and my stomach rumbles from skipping dinner. The music is no longer blaring, and I can’t hear voices. I check the time. It’s two in the morning, so five in the morning back home. Yikes. Might be too early to ring Ana, but she is an early bird and gets up hours before work.

  I leave my dungeon and stick my head out. There’s no one in the kitchen or anywhere nearby. I hurry across the room and to the patio. It’s pitch-black outside. I step out into the warm air and look down at my phone. I move off the patio and away from the furniture. I find a dark spot in the trees. I’m close enough I can hear the lapping of water from the stream below and I take a moment to soak in that sound because it’s calming.

  Then I check my phone. Messages flood in. Ana’s been trying to reach me. Even Steven sent me words of encouragement after his phone call with Aidan. It’s so nice to read through them all. I didn’t realize how long this day has been until now.

  I call Ana, but she must not be up yet because her phone goes straight to voicemail. I quickly message her and let her know I’m okay.

  My heart on the other hand is another matter.

  There are light murmurs not too far away. I spin around, eyeing a group of people who are stepping outside and lighting up cigarettes on the patio. One of them is Nina. She’s still in her bikini top, but it’s like she pushed it down a bit because more of her boobs are exposed than they were before.

  “I don’t know where Aidan went,” I faintly hear her say. “He’s always disappearing when I need him the most.”

  I roll my eyes. What could she possibly need from him right now?