Confessions After Dark

by Kahlen Aymes

“Angel?” Cole called from the other room. “I’m gonna go back to my place and take a shower, but I’ll be back to take you to the restaurant, okay? Don’t let anyone else in.”

  Her hand smoothed down the fine fabric of the dress once more. It was soft as satin but richer. “Okay, but wait a second.” Angel rushed down the hall and down the stairs into the foyer where Cole stood. “Thanks for putting up with me today. You’re a great sport, letting me drag you all over Chicago.” She smiled and hugged him hard.

  Cole’s big arms closed around her back and he lifted her small form into a bear hug. “Alex’s one lucky mofo, that’s all I have to say.”

  “Yes. He’s got a great brother!”

  “Naw. It was fun. Your friend is kind of a smartass, though, but she’s cute.”

  He turned to leave, and Angel made her way back toward the stairs. “Oh, she’s a smartass, all right.”

  “I’ll be back in what? Two hours?”

  Angel paused on the third stair and turned. “You don’t need to—”

  “Oh, yes, I do. Alex would blow a gasket if I let you go alone. That prick’s out on bail.”

  “You’re the second Avery brother that’s warned me about that today. I get it, but with a broken jaw and shattered cheekbone, it’s not likely he’s feeling up to revenge.”

  “Alex—” Cole began, only to be cut off by Angel.

  “I know! Alex!” She sighed and shook her head as happiness flooded through her.

  “Alex doesn’t take any chances,” Cole concluded with a grin that echoed the one she loved in his brother. “Gant said he got wind that Swanson’s mob connections deserted him so he shouldn’t have his band of goons in tow either. Apparently, his brother-in-law feels that he’s not worth engaging with a big conglomerate like Avery. We have more resources.”

  “Yeah, but they have bullets.” Angel’s brow furrowed, wondering why Alex hadn’t shared this piece of information. Neither had Kenneth, for that matter.

  Cole shook his head. “Swanson’s not blood and only connected by marriage. They won’t invest in someone as trivial as that asshole. Alex and you, well, you’re both a little high profile to risk attracting attention, and Mark Swanson is inconsequential to their organization. The girl he assaulted being the big man’s family, I’m really surprised they didn’t put a hit out on him. But,” his eyebrow shot up, “just to be safe, we’re on it for a while longer. Boss’ orders.”

  “Ugh! Alex needs a hobby.” Angel chuckled and Cole burst out laughing.

  “You’re it. Didn’t you know? See ya, later.”

  After Cole left, Angel took a long bath, letting the hot water soak into her skin. She lingered, paying careful attention to shaving her legs, and later, perfuming every inch of her skin with expensive silk body lotion and meticulously coaxing her hair to fall in a mop of loose, sexy curls that cascaded in waves down to the middle of her back. sHer make-up was meticulous, her eyes done in dark plum and shimmering silver. She was deep in thought when a text from Alex beeped on the phone he had given her.

  I’m sending you something, so it’s okay to open the door in three, two, one…

  She rolled her eyes at the knock that accompanied the end of the text and threw on his burgundy robe and padded down the hall, tying the belt as she went.

  She was met with another large bouquet of the Calla lilies; similar to the one that Alex had sent to her on their first date, and held by the same delivery boy. Pleasure rushed through her and a big smile spread across her face.

  “Hello, again,” she said happily.

  “Dr. Hemming,” the young man answered. His grey eyes widened as they skated over her face and hair. He was dressed in baggy shorts that hung loosely to his knees, an over-sized red T-shirt and unlaced Nikes with no socks. A worn New York Giants cap was shoved on his unruly mop of dark hair. “Gosh! You look amazing! Er, I mean… not that you didn’t look pretty last time. You did. But, uh…”

  Her smile softened at his outburst, his face turning red at the speed of light.

  “Thank you.”

  “I think I’ll just shut up now,” he murmured.

  Angel laughed and took the bouquet into the apartment but the boy lingered in the doorway, her delight at Alex’s thoughtfulness and the boy’s compliment bursting forth. “Come in, please.”

  His eyes took in the size and elegance of Alex’s foyer and he didn’t move. “Uh, no, it’s okay. Have a good evening, Dr. Hemming.”

  “Wait. I’ll get you a tip.” She set the crystal vase down on the mahogany entry table and reached for the card, unable to wait even a moment to read it. It was written in Alex’s own bold handwriting, and his words filled her with pleasure and an incredible rush of love. She inhaled deeply as she read them again.

  Remembering the night that changed my life.

  Warmth spread through her at the implied meaning. Yes, tonight she would make sure he would know she loved him.

  The boy called after her. “No need, remember? Have a nice evening.”

  Suddenly, the idea of a crowded restaurant wasn’t as appealing. It was nearly six o’clock and she still had time to change their plans. Unsure if Tru offered take-out or delivery, she paused before closing the door. “Wait!”

  “Yes, ma’am?” The boy loped back down the corridor away from the elevators to the door.

  “Um… can you wait a second? I’m going to call the restaurant to see if they offer take-out, and if so, would you mind running to pick it up for me?”

  “Oh, yes, ma’am! I’d be happy to!”

  “Great. Will you hold on a second? I have to call to see if it’s possible.”

  She left him in the foyer and proceeded down the hall into Alex’s study. The room was much like the man, very masculine and strong. The furniture was solid but elegant and there were bookshelves lining one complete wall, some of the books clearly first editions, old and worth a great deal of money. The fireplace on the opposing wall was constructed of large Italian marble in dark browns and more of the large leather furniture that seemed to be his preference was sitting in the middle of the room.

  His laptop was on the large desk and she fired it up, hoping she’d be able to find the menu online. Her eyes scanned the top of the desk. It was mostly unadorned, save for a leather desk protector, a few photos, and a makeshift award of one octave of piano keys mounted on a wooden and metal base. A metal plate on the front was engraved in cursive:

  “Neither a lofty degree of intelligence, nor imagination, nor both together, go to the making of genius. Love, love, love… that is the soul of genius.” –Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

  Angel’s fingers traced over the words, perplexed at this obvious contradiction to Alex’s self-confessed feelings on love, and her heart contracted in response. Maybe he’d been hurt. He’d never mentioned anyone breaking his heart, but it wouldn’t be like him to admit to pain.

  “Oh, Alex,” she said softly, running her fingers over the words.

  The shuffling in the other room, reminded her that the boy was waiting.

  She wanted to write down the address of the restaurant, in case the young man didn’t know where it was, but there was no paper on the desk. She pushed the massive chair back and turned toward the printer positioned behind her on the matching credenza situated beneath the only window in the room. She rolled her eyes when, pulling out the paper tray, found it empty. “Figures,” she huffed in amusement.

  She quickly began rummaging through the top drawer but found nothing but expensive pens, Alex’s passport, a calculator, and nail clippers. She moved to the other drawers and quickly rifled through them, her fingers and eyes searching. When her fingers passed over something silken in the bottom drawer, Angel stopped dead.

  A pair of blush and black silk panties stared her in the face. Her panties. She flushed, remembering how she left without them the first night she’d been with Alex, the same night he referred to in his note. Her fingers ghosted over the soft material as she pushed it to the side, chuck
ling; she decided to tease Alex about hording women’s underwear later in the evening.

  The only other occupant of the bottom drawer was a red file folder. Angel pulled it out, hoping to find the needed paper, but was instead confronted with a copy of her driver’s license. Confused, her fingers sifted through the other contents, her movements slowing as what she was holding registered in her mind.

  “Uhhh…” Angel’s breath left her lungs in a whoosh. Heat burned in her cheeks and her heart thudded sickeningly in her chest as she saw her name repeated over and over again on the documents. Her eyes scanned the letter that was the second item in the folder. After registering the date, her vision blurred, anger and pain rising up inside. Her entire life was there; high school and college transcripts, her Ph.D. dissertation, a list of her old addresses and lists of friends, an article she’d written, her birth certificate, an old picture of her mother and father… and pictures of Kenneth along with his résumé.

  When her eyes found mention of her mother’s location in the letter, she couldn’t read any more and slammed the folder shut. “What the fuck?” she breathed out.

  Her lungs constricted, and she leaned back in the chair while it felt like a gaping hole was rapidly replacing the heart inside her chest. The blood pounding through her veins thudded loudly in her ears.

  “Dr. Hemming?”

  Her hands covered her face, and she inhaled until she thought her lungs would burst, the air rushing in and out of her lungs in shallow pants.

  “Dr. Hemming? Did you still want me to run to the restaurant?”

  Tears pricked at the back of her eyes, and her throat tightened painfully; the beautiful evening she’d planned seemed like a lie now. Her elbows rested on the desk, her head still in her hands as she willed herself not to lose it, not to cry or scream out loud. Shaking, it felt like the earth opened up and swallowed her whole.

  How could Alex do this? Who in the hell was he? How can I love him when I don’t even know him?

  “Excuse me? Is everything all right?” he called.

  She pushed back from the desk and walked on shaky legs back toward the boy who waited in the other room, blinking rapidly and swallowing down the emotion threatening to choke her as she tried to smile at the boy.

  “Um, change of plans. I’m sorry I made you wait. You can go. Thank you.”

  He took in her flushed cheeks and the glisten in her eyes, uncertainty flitting across his features, but he slowly turned to leave. “Okay. Have a nice night.”

  “You, too.”

  When the door closed, Angel leaned against it. “Oh, my God. This isn’t happening,” she murmured softly, before yelling. “This isn’t fucking happening!” Her fist slammed into the door beside her thigh.

  Angel hurried back into the study once again and still glaring at her from the top of Alex’s desk were all of the documents that summed up her life. It was like some stupid scene from “Who Framed Roger Rabbit” where the thing you despise most comes at you in an oversized, 3-D cartoon. She felt disgusted and betrayed. Amazing how one’s entire existence could be reduced to nothing more than a meaningless paper trail. Her eyes darted from the desk to the fireplace. All of the hopes and dreams she had of a future with Alex had just gone up in smoke. Just like the contents of that file were about to do. Without trust, there was nothing. The first broken sob finally erupted and filled the room.

  *****

  Alex glanced at his watch. It was eight o’clock. An hour past the time Angel was supposed to meet him at Tru. After three glasses of Chivas on the rocks and a lot of inquiring glances from the staff, he’d gotten up and left the restaurant. Angel wasn’t answering her phone; in fact, it wasn’t even going to voicemail. He tried Cole and was unable to reach him either. His heart filled with sickening dread, and his stomach burned.

  Alex tried her cell phone again, and, finally, he was able to leave a message. “Angel, where the hell are you? I’m on my way back to my apartment. For Christ’s sake! I’m going crazy with worry. Call me the minute you get this.”

  When Alex’s driver dropped him off, he paused briefly with the doorman. “Brody, did my brother and Dr. Hemming leave?”

  “Mr. Avery left a few hours ago, sir. He was smiling big. Said he hadn’t had a night off in three months and he’d be back to pick Dr. Hemming up but never came back.”

  Alex’s mouth thinned into a hard line. “Thanks.”

  He had no choice but to wait for the elevator that took him to the penthouse though he itched to burst through the stairwell door and take them two at a time. Seventy-four stories and double that many flights of stairs were impossible on foot and definitely wouldn’t be faster than the elevator. He swiped his keycard that allowed unrestricted access to his penthouse.

  The floors that usually whizzed by seemed to take forever, and he cursed as the elevator stopped on the 52nd floor and an old lady, carrying a purse with one of those unrecognizable hybrid dog breeds sticking out of it, hobbled on.

  “Hello, young man,” she said pleasantly.

  Alex tried to smile, but his guts were twisting into knots. “Good evening.” He nodded and smoothed down the front of his jacket impatiently. Fuck! He closed his eyes as she rambled on about a bridge game on sixty-seven.

  The car stopped again to let the woman off, and Alex prayed he’d have no more interruptions. He sighed as the elevator opened with nothing between him and the door to his place. He quickly walked to it, swiped the card again, and opened the door.

  “Angel?” he called before he’d even gotten through it. “Angel!” The apartment was dimly lit with no sound coming from anywhere. Alex walked briskly from the empty kitchen into the living room, past the open door to his study, and down the hall.

  “Angel!” he hollered again, panic seizing his chest. “Fucking answer me!”

  He opened his phone and pushed her speed dial number, running up the stairs toward the bedrooms. Her phone began ringing then and he heard it in the other room. He moved toward the sound and his bedroom as it continued to register, the sound echoing strangely in his ear and the room around him. The door to his room was ajar and he pushed through it, eyes darting toward the ringing phone. His bed was strewn with clothes, a red file folder sitting in the center.

  His heart fell and his steps slowed as realization hit him, and he flipped open the folder. Inside, there was nothing but the ringing phone he’d given to her. He sank down to sit on the edge of the large bed, his hand running through his hair, and heat infusing like poison beneath his skin. “Son-of-a-bitch! Un-fucking-believable.” He rummaged through his contacts searching for the number to Angel’s other cell phone and frantically waited for her to answer. It went straight to voicemail.

  “This number will change so please call my office tomorrow, and if you’re on the list I’ll be giving to my assistant, she’ll give you my new contact information. If this is Alex…” her voice cracked on the pause, and she cleared it. “Please, just leave me alone. We’re over.”

  Alex’s mind reeled and his heart raced with anger. How could I be so fucking stupid not to get rid of that fucking file folder?

  “I never even looked at the goddamn thing, for Christ’s sake! Aaarrrggggghhhh!” he yelled and flung his own phone at the wall with such force it shattered into a hundred pieces. “Fuck!”

  15

  Hear Me

  “Alex! Are you listening?” Allison’s shrill question made Alex jump and brought him out of his reverie. His concentration was lost outside the glass windows at the back of his parents’ large estate, past the deck to the large, manicured lawn, to the flock of geese swimming around in the lake.

  His fingers scratched along his chin in introspection until her screeching caused his brow to furrow, and he sat up more into a sitting position with a grunt. His head pounded and his eyes burned from lack of sleep.

  The house smelled of roast pork, spiced apples and the faint lingering aroma of expensive cigars. He wondered how in the hell his dad got away with
smoking in the house because his mother had never allowed it during the time he was growing up.

  “Alex!” she demanded again.

  “Stop that infernal squawking, Allison,” he said flatly, shooting her a bored expression. “You’re giving my migraine a headache.”

  “I’ve been speaking to you for ten minutes or more!” she began but was interrupted.

  “Yeah, that’s the problem. I’m not in the mood.”

  Allison frowned and pursed her lips. She adored Alex, and the closeness she felt with him made her well aware he was not himself and far from his best form. She snorted shortly.

  “I don’t know what your problem is, but you’re being rude!” Her eyes skated over her brother, and while he was immaculately dressed and his hair perfectly combed, he hadn’t shaved, and there were suspicious purple shadows beneath his bloodshot eyes.

  “You asked me to be here. I’m here. I only came to shut you up and yet there is still more of your endless screeching.” He stood up and walked to the built-in bar on the far side of the great room. It was salvaged from an 18th century mansion and fit in well with the stone fireplace and dark olive walls. The house was built twenty years earlier, and his mother had taken great care to create Old World elegance from two centuries past. The ceilings, painted a light eggshell, and the plush carpeting added the only modern touches. He loved the surrounding grounds, but he preferred the contemporary minimalist décor of his place… or Angel’s, he thought, disgust making him grunt.

  Can’t she leave my head for five fucking minutes? Would a five-minute reprieve be too much to ask? His hand closed over the decanter of amber liquid, and he splashed three fingers into a glass before loudly replacing the stopper and shoving the crystal back from the edge roughly. “Shouldn’t you be helping Mom frost a cake or something?” he asked casually.

  Allison scowled at him. “You’re being a dick.”

  He stopped and turned around, shoving one hand deeply into the pocket of his slate grey dress slacks. Jeans weren’t the attire his mother preferred at her Sunday dinners, but on this occasion, he had forgone the tie and left his dark blue dress shirt untucked and rolled the sleeves up beyond his elbows. His brow shot up. Allison never used profanity with such casualness. He only knew one woman who did. He took a big swallow from the glass and grimaced as the liquid burned its way down into his stomach as he willed his mind to shut off, yet he couldn’t help but ask. “Been spending time with Angel, I see.”