by Fields, MJ
“She’s fine now. I’m trying to talk her into rejoining the party. Can you give us a minute?”
Nicco looks back and forth between us. What a sight I must be. With my hair all a mess and makeup smeared with tears streaming down my face. If he hasn’t already figured us out, I bet he is about to.
“No, I don’t think I will.”
“Please, Nicco. Five minutes. We need five minutes.”
“No, we don’t. I am done. So done.” And, with that, I hop into the back seat of the car and tell the driver to take me home.
* * *
Mamma is waiting in the kitchen when I walk in the back door. She changed out of her gown and into a silk pajama set. She opens her arms wide, and I walk into them and start to cry once again. She smooths my hair and holds me until the tears begin to subside.
“There, there, now, baby. No boy is worth this kind of misery.”
“How did you know?”
“Joe called and said he was bringing you home and that you said you were sick, but you appeared to be upset and crying. I assumed it was because of a boy. Most tears are.”
“Oh, Mamma, I feel so stupid. I thought … I thought …”
“You thought Christoff would take one look at you in that dress and fall madly in love.”
I purse my trembling lips and look up at her.
“My dear, it’s no secret to any of us. We all know how you feel about him. At first, it was the cute little crush of a four-year-old. I thought it would go away, but I have seen how it has grown stronger and changed into more than a crush the past few years.”
“He thinks I’m still a silly little girl.”
“Oh, but he doesn’t. He sees you. But he is also eight years older than you. He is an adult, and he has been one for quite some time. You just turned seventeen. He is a man, and you are technically still a girl. I know it hurts, but he is trying to do the right thing.”
“But I’m not a little girl anymore. I am growing up, and no one wants to see it. Not him. Not my brothers. They can’t keep me little forever.”
“You are on the cusp, darling. We all see it. The boys are never going to like it. You will always be their baby sister, but they will learn to accept it. Now, Christoff is different. He sees it, and it’s confusing him. It’s written all over him.”
“I love him, and I don’t think he is ever going to love me. Not the way I want him to. I wish I could fall out of love with him, but I can’t. I don’t know how. How do I do that? What do I do, Mamma?”
She pours us each a cup of hot chocolate she has simmering on the stove. Ever since I was little, she would soothe my pains with homemade cocoa.
“Gabby, you are a young woman, and I am going to be frank with you. You know that Christoff’s father and your father are in business together. You also know that what your father does for a living isn’t exactly on the up-and-up. Your brothers and, one day, Christoff will join the family businesses, as sons are supposed to do.”
She is looking at her hands wrapped around the handle of her mug and not in my eyes as she continues, “I have always loved being your father’s wife, and being your and the boys’ mother has been my greatest joy. But I will not lie to you. It is not easy to love a man in this world. I know you see the way he hurts me, and you wonder why I put up with it. I was raised in this life. I was taught a woman takes good care of her family and her husband and looks the other way when he does something she doesn’t like. To always bend to his will and always show him respect.
“I do not want this life for you, my darling girl. I want you to find a man who will love you and always put your happiness before his own. Before everything. Christoff is a good man … for now … but I am afraid that, if his father gets him involved with the business, he, too, will become someone you do not recognize.
“I think you should get away for a little while. Separate yourself and get some perspective. The world is vast and full of potential. Maybe time and space will help you fall out of love with him. I think we should send you to your aunt Mitzi for a year abroad. In fact, I think you should go right away. I can have a ticket booked for you tonight and have you on a plane first thing in the morning. You already have enough credits to finish high school at the end of December, and we can have anything you need to finish up forwarded to you in Paris. I think a fresh start is just what you need.”
I don’t want to go. I don’t want any of this, but she is right. As long as I’m here, I will never be able to let go of him. Seeing him almost daily. Watching as he dates other girls. Feeling that pull between us, knowing that he doesn’t feel the same or he doesn’t want to. It just breaks my heart over and over again. I need time and distance.
“Okay, Mamma. If you think that’s for the best, I will go.”
“I think, once you are there, you might fall in love with Paris and never want to come home.”
I can tell my decision has thrilled her, and she is right about one thing. I will never be the woman who allows herself to be mistreated. I will never be the one waiting at home while my husband is out, doing dangerous or illegal things. I will not be the one broken by his affairs or his dismissal. If that is Cross’s fate, I need to get far, far away from him right now. I have to.
I head upstairs to pack for my new adventure. I’m emotionally spent, and I just want to crawl into my bed and sleep for days; however, my flight leaves at dawn, so I have to get ready. Mamma said to pack a light suitcase, and she would send everything else I needed next week. I’m almost finished when I hear someone knocking at the back door. I sneak down the stairs and hide out of sight.
“Come in. I was expecting you.”
“Mrs. Mastreoni, I know it’s really late, but I was wondering if I could speak to Gabriella for a moment.”
“Sit down, Christoff. Let’s have a chat.”
I hear the scrape of the barstools across the floor. I turn to walk back upstairs and let Mamma deal with him. I don’t have the energy.
After what feels like an eternity, I hear the back door shut, and I move quietly to my window and look out. He is walking toward his car with his head down. Right before he reaches it, he stops and turns around. He looks up and scans the second floor until he finds my window. My lights are off, and I move slightly to the right to make sure I am out of sight. He stares at me, not seeing me, but still looking right at me for what feels like forever. The look on his face is sheer agony, the same agony that is slicing through me. He lifts his hand and waves. Then, he tightens it into a fist and brings it to his chest. Then, he turns and gets into his car and drives away.
I don’t sleep a wink.
Eleven
Brie - Present
“Hey, Brie. Want to go to Max’s after your last lesson tonight?” Julie, a server at the club, pokes her head in the locker room as I change into my tennis skirt.
“Sure, I’d love to. I won’t be done with the kids until about nine. Is that okay?”
“Perfect. The kitchen doesn’t close until ten, but Wednesdays are usually slow, and Scott will let one of us go early. It’s my turn. Have a good session, and I’ll meet you after.”
I grab my bag full of rackets and balls and head out to the court. I have a group lesson tonight with the sweetest six-year-olds I have ever met. They don’t really pay attention, and I’m lucky to get a serve a piece out of them, but I enjoy every minute I get with them. Their parents don’t care if they actually learn anything anyway. They use the lesson time as a reprieve to go into the club’s bar and drink a few cocktails and socialize with other members. I am basically a glorified babysitter. Who am I to complain though? It’s damn good pay for babysitting.
After the children are picked up by their parents, I quickly change into my jeans and meet Julie in the parking lot. We drive over to Max’s Bar and Grill near the Third Street Promenade and grab a few cocktails before heading home for the night.
“How are classes going for you?” I ask as the waitress places our ridiculously fancy cocktails
in front of us.
“Ugh, I think I might drop my Economics class. My professor hates me. I was late a couple of times last week, and this week, he locked the door and refused to let me in.”
“Really? Maybe you should just go to class on time instead of dropping?” I suggest as I take a sip from my glass.
The drink is a little sweet for my taste, but it is the Wednesday night special. Who turns their nose up at a half-priced cocktail?
“Yeah, I guess. I just wish he were understanding about the choice us working students face every day. Promptness or sleep? I’m telling you now, sleep wins every time.”
She is not lying. I am constantly fighting to stay awake in my Business Law class. Mr. Bolin lectures in the most sleep-inducing, monotone voice I have ever heard. He lulls me right into a drooling mess.
Our appetizers arrive, and we dig in as the place starts to fill up. Just as we are about to flag the waitress down to get our check, she arrives, carrying two more cocktails.
“I’m sorry. We didn’t order these,” I inform her of the mistake.
“No, you didn’t. The gentleman at the bar sent them to you.”
“Which one?” Julie asks as she scans the seats behind me.
“The hot one on the far right.”
“Nice. Please tell him to come by so that we can thank him.” She is all smiles as the waitress scurries off to do her bidding.
“I can’t believe you invited him over here. What if he is a serial killer? Or better yet, what if he is trying to roofie us?” I hiss under my breath.
“Damn, no wonder you are single. If you accuse every guy who buys you a drink of being a serial killer, you’d better start applying to the local convents now. Paranoid much?”
“I am not paranoid. I’m cautious. You should be, too.”
A deep chuckle sounds over my left shoulder, and I turn to see a familiar face.
“Hi, ladies.” He extends his hand to Julie. “Your friendly neighborhood serial killer at your service.”
I look up into the amused face of Jake Mason.
Great. I think I would have been happier if it had actually been a serial killer.
Putting my foot in my mouth in front of my boss’s son was not part of my plans for the evening.
Julie eagerly offers for him to join us, and he accepts. He comes to my side of the booth, forcing me to slide over to accommodate his size. It’s a tight fit.
“Thank you for the drinks, and I’m sorry for accusing you of being a potential murderer or rapist,” I try to make amends as he settles in. “Although, until we have finished these drinks and make it home alone safely, it remains to be seen if my assumption was accurate,” I add.
He just looks at me like he thinks I am the cutest thing he has ever encountered. Julie starts to immediately fill the conversation with tales from the club while I sit and sip my drink. I take the time to study his face. It’s annoying how handsome he is.
“How about you, Brie? Are you enjoying instructing at the club?”
“Yes, I am. Very much. It is a bit more laid-back here than it was at my last club. I like the change of pace, and the kids are adorable.”
“Are you doing private adult sessions yet?”
Julie chokes on her drink at his phrasing of the question.
“Um, sure. I mean, if you arrange it with Mr. Cloniger, I’m sure they will add it to my schedule. Are you certain I am the instructor for you? I usually teach children and adult beginners. You aren’t a beginner, are you?”
I have had a chance to observe him in action on the racquetball court since the first time we met. He is a machine and definitely not a beginner. Not that I’m going to admit that to him.
“Oh, I think brushing up on the basics is exactly what I need.”
Julie decides to order actual food. I guess we are staying awhile. I really wanted to get home early tonight and get in a little study time and a soak in a hot bath before bed. This is my nightly dilemma. To enjoy a night out like a normal girl my age or go home and study and sleep. I resign myself to hanging out and just getting up early in the morning to study. I rejoin the conversation. Julie is telling Jake about her brother winning some surfing competition last weekend before he turns his attention back to me.
“So, tell me more about yourself, Brie. All I know is that you are new in town and living with Dawn and Kelsey and working at the club.”
“Not much more to tell really. I’m originally from New York, and I got tired of snow and crowds, and I decided to follow the sunshine here and finish my business degree at Cal State.” I shrug nonchalantly and hope that he leaves it at that.
“What about your family? Do you come from a big or small one? Are they still in New York? Left a boyfriend behind maybe?”
I am not going there with him. My life before I stepped off that plane is no one’s business. I changed my name so that no one could trace me back to my family, and I have only revealed enough vague details and half-truths to keep people from being suspicious so far. Daniel, who only knows part of my story, warned Dawn and Kelsey before I arrived to just leave my past alone. They have respected that so far. If I refuse to let them in, then I’m certainly not letting this guy in.
“So curious, are you writing a story on me?”
“Evasive. Hmm, what are you hiding, Brie Masters? Can’t a guy just want to get to know a pretty girl better?”
“Yes, some of my family is still there. We are scattered. Daniel Taylor is actually my cousin. You probably know him. Nothing else really to tell.”
“I do. I know him and his dad.” He skeptically looks at me as if he knows there is a lot more to my story than I’m sharing.
I can see the moment he decides to just let it be, and I am grateful.
About that time, a shapely redhead approaches our table and purrs, “Jake, are you ever going to make it to our table?”
She gives him a little pout, and I have to keep from laughing out loud at her antics. Does that approach really work for her? Pouts and purrs? Is that what boys are looking for nowadays? I’m so screwed when I decide to dive back into the dating waters. I have never purred in my life. I’m not a cat.
“Carlie, of course I am. I was just distracted by my new friends here. Brie and Julie, this is Carlie. She’s an old friend from school.”
She looks a little offended by the old friend comment but recovers quickly and smiles a fake smile at us. “Hi, ladies. I hope you don’t mind if I steal him. He promised me a meal and drinks, and he knows patience is not one of my virtues.” She giggles as if to play it off as a joke, but we all know it’s not.
“No problem. We are all finished here,” I say sweetly.
“It was so nice seeing you both again.” He turns to me. “Brie, I will contact Mr. Cloniger tomorrow. I look forward to our private time together.”
He exits our booth, and Carlie instantly latches on to his arm.
“Well, that was interesting to watch ,” Julie notes.
“Yeah, she is something.”
“Not her. You and Jake. He is so into you, and you are totally playing it cool. I bet he doesn’t get that from a lot of women. Jacob Mason is a hot commodity around here. Everyone fights for his attention, and you act all aloof when he is showering you with it.”
“He wasn’t showering me with anything. He just wants some help with his tennis game. That’s all.”
She gives me a look that clearly says I’m insane.
“That boy grew up in the club. Do you honestly think for one second that he needs tennis lessons? He is willing to pay for them to see you. I will add that I have worked there for three years, and he has never once bought me a drink or asked about my family. Damn, what a waste. I wish he were looking at me that way. Unlike you, I wouldn’t squander the attention. I would bask in it.”
Julie is stunning. All long legs and tight, toned body. She and Jake would actually make a very handsome couple.
“He is all yours. I’m not interested.”
“Oh no, my friend, he is definitely all yours, and I bet he will make a valiant effort in changing your mind.”
God, I hope not. The last thing I need is a charming guy trying to get into my pants. They are closed for business for the foreseeable future.
Twelve
Gabby - Past
Paris is a dream. After a week of staying in my pajamas all day and crying myself to sleep every night, Aunt Mitzi has had enough. She forces me up and out the door.
She works at a pastry shop a few blocks from her apartment, and now, apparently, so do I. We get up with the sun and make our way to the shop where she gets all the menus changed with the day’s exclusive creations, and I head into the kitchen to help Sacha, the big bear of a pastry chef. He could see immediately that I had a natural talent for baking. I love everything about it. The smell of vanilla and almond lingering in the air. The feeling of my hands kneading the dough. The sound of the mixers whirling. The rhythm of cutting out shapes for cookies. It doesn’t seem like work at all. So, he has become my mentor, allowing me hands-on experience. It is invaluable and better than any culinary or pastry arts course I could have taken this year. I leave every afternoon, delighted and covered in chocolate or powdered sugar.
On our days off, she introduces me to the sights and sounds of Paris. The city is chock-full of history and culture. It is as if the city were alive. It has a pulse and a heartbeat, just like New York. It is on the cutting edge of cuisine and fashion. Everything girls my age covet. We eat all the things, and being as the drinking laws in Europe are a little more relaxed than in America, she has taught me the finer points of a good wine-and-food pairing. I find that I very much enjoy Sancerre and pinot noir.
Slowing but surely, I have begun to acclimate to my temporary home, and my heart has indeed started to mend. It didn’t happen overnight, but I have started thinking about Cross less and less as the days progress. By spring, I hardly think of him at all.
