Awakening to You (Awakening Trilogy #3)

by Fifi Flowers

  On the theatre job site?

  As he did to me.

  Picnic basket in his office?

  Oh, how he loved those lunch deliveries.

  Supper, waiting for him in his townhouse?

  A repeat candlelight dinner; roasted duck, wine.

  Invitation to breakfast at our favorite diner?

  Sherry would be thrilled to see us together.

  Those were all good ideas. Yet, not the right one… Then it hit me… Yes, that was the only place!

  Chapter Nine

  Drake…

  My theatre project was moving along smoothly. All green lights. People were on the go. Things were happening. We had our regular slew of team players, along with theatre experts (sound people, lighting people, interior design people, etc.) brought in by our theatre consultant, whom I had yet to meet. He seemed to always be out of reach. We communicated mainly through a multitude of emails. He had great ideas. Over the top. Amazon. Where Patrick found him, I had no idea. I was fine with his work. He listened to everything I said. Had great input to my suggestions, visions. No problems whatsoever. Gave me no shit. Got his crew moving. So if I never met him, no big deal. I just wished it was Sofie. I wished she was in charge. I didn’t have the heart to ask her. I only ever hinted.

  Speaking of my girl, I hadn’t heard from Sofie in several days. She told me she had started a big project that required extra attention. She may be out touch here and there, but she would do her best to text me if she couldn’t call. She always made sure to tell me she loved me. I did the same. We were seeing each other, when we could, until the beginning of whatever she had accepted. She was pretty quiet about it. Unusual. We had always shared with each other, I missed it. Before she came back on the grid, she said we’d see each other soon. “I promise,” were her last words. I liked those, but I wanted to hear her voice. We had talked almost every day since I left. We were back to phone sex. Working out breaks in our schedules, we saw each other a few times.

  Last time I saw her almost a month ago, when she invited me to Florida to meet her family for Thanksgiving. We had a great time, but then we were back to standing in an airport saying goodbye. I told her I hoped she would come to Boston for Christmas but she said she couldn’t promise anything. I thought we were getting somewhere when she had me to a family gathering, but our careers continued to keep us apart. She hadn’t told me much about her latest commitment, but she said it was a dream job. Her and her damn dream jobs. I wanted to scream.

  I’ll admit, I was a bit of an asshole when Sofie called me this morning, after not hearing from her all weekend. Which really pissed me off—she rarely worked weekends. What the hell was she up to? Was it just too much to deal with; this bi-coastal relationship bullshit? I knew it was getting to me. I needed some advice. Some reassuring. I called my father. I told him I was hoping we could get together. I needed to talk. I couldn’t take it anymore. Maybe he could give me some pointers. Thankfully, he was available.

  “Okay, Dad, I’ll swing by, after I get out of my last meeting.”

  “No!” he exclaimed loudly, startling me.

  “Okay…”

  “Vivian has girlfriends, staying over, from out of town. Actually, I could use a little guy time. I’ll meet you at the pub around the corner from my office.”

  Finishing up a discussion with a couple gentleman from the City zone department, I shook both of their hands, thanked them, and strolled out of their office on Beacon Street. Needing to clear my head, I walked to the pub, passing the Frog Pond, filled with ice skaters of all shapes and sizes. I wished Sofie could see them. See our pond, frozen. I needed to apologize to her, but first, I needed to talk to my father.

  Sitting at the bar, we ate dinner, drank a few beers, and I opened up to my father. I told him how I talked to Sofie on the phone and then ignored her all day. So unlike me, my father said. He was right. I even went as far as to say, maybe I just couldn’t be with a career woman. Then, I asked how the hell he and my mother did it? Oh, yes, he reminded me—they fought. Bottom line, he asked me if I loved her. Could I live without her? Could I imagine her with another man?

  After I answered all of his questions, he simply stated, “Call her. Tell her you love her. Go from there.” That’s exactly what I did when I got home, only to receive no response.

  The next day, I got up and still no text. Shit! I really had fucked up. Dragging myself into work, I hoped for distractions. It proved to be a quiet day. By late afternoon, I was ready to get out of there. Then, the thought of returning to an empty house struck me. Picking up a frame off of my desk, I stared at a photo of Sofie, and contemplated working late. On what, I had no clue.

  My shitty mood was interrupted by a knocking on my door, followed by my secretary opening it. Behind her was a delivery man, carrying a large package. “It’s heavy, where do you want it?” Instructing him to place it on the coffee table off to the side, he announced it was an urgent matter, pointing to the “open immediately” marked all over the box. Hmm… I wasn’t expecting anything. Nor did I want anything. The box I would want delivered to my office would be much larger, and contain Sofie.

  After signing for the delivery, he reminded me to open it now, then, left the same way he came in. Walking over to the box with a pair of scissors, I cut through the clear packing tape. Opening the box, inside was another white box. Lifting it out of the brown cardboard shipping box, I kicked the outside package on the floor and set the box back on the table. Flipping off the lid, a folded brown, blue, and lavender tartan patterned wool scarf sat on top. Removing it from the box, I found a brand new pair of black hockey skates, like the ones of my youth. Beneath them was a printed invitation.

  Bundle Up!

  You are cordially invited

  Tuesday, December 16th

  6 o’clock in the evening

  The Boston Common Frog Pond

  With a smile on my face, I tied the skates together, pulled on my overcoat, and wrapped the scarf around my neck. Walking out of my office, I bid my secretary a good night, heading out of the office. I needed to make a stop before proceeding on to the pond. It had to be Sofie, I thought as I made my way home, quickly. Walking in through the front door of my townhouse, I swear I could smell Sofie. It had to be my brain . . . my nose was playing tricks on me. Shaking my head, I was losing it I said to myself as I ran up the stairs, two-at-a-time, to my office. Opening the top drawer, I grabbed what I needed then, rushed back down the stairs, and out the door.

  Crossing Beacon Street, I entered The Commons. Strolling down the snow, shoveled walkway, I glimpsed the most gorgeous sight ever—my Sofie. She was sitting on her customary bench, wrapped in a heavy coat, gloves, scarf, and hat. My heart pounded harder and louder as I rushed to her. The gleaming smile on her face took my breath away.

  I did not pull her up. Nor did I take her into my arms. I knelt in front of her, on one knee. “You aren’t the only one with a special box to deliver,” I said removing one of her woolen gloves and then mine to reach into my heavy-coat pocket. Pulling out a tiny square box, I looked directly into her brilliant green eyes with tears spilling from them.

  “I love you, Sofie. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me in my entire life. I want you today and every day for the rest of my life. I can’t bear the thought of us ever parting, again. I told you, if you ever came to Boston, I would never let you leave. I mean it, Sofie. You can never leave me. I want you forever. I want to make you my wife. The mother of my little Frog Pond dwellers. Marry me, Sofie. Go to bed with me every night. Wake up with me every day.”

  Nodding her head, she gave me the word I wanted to hear. “Yes, yes, yes—yes to everything.”

  Pulling her up from the bench, I took her into my arms and sealed the deal with our lips. Then I scooped her up, I started to walk away from the pond. “Hey, what are you doing?”

  “Taking you home. I can’t very well fuck you right here.” I flashed her, what I hoped was, a wickedly, sexy grin.<
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  “Put me down,” she said laughing, wiggling to get out of my arms. I started to wobble, and quickly set her back down, before I dropped her on the icy ground. “I had to pull strings—well, your father did—I rented the pond for three hours. They only rent it out on Mondays. Besides, these are not my skates. Kids are being denied, so you and I could have a romantic skate. The pond is all ours.”

  Then it hit me. The ice was empty. I never even noticed it wasn’t swarmed with people, gliding across it. Once I saw her, everything around me had disappeared. It was only Sofie I cared to see . . . to touch . . . to smell . . . to taste. All I wanted to hear was her, saying “yes” to my proposal.

  Lifting my future wife back into my arms, I turned toward the cafe. Making our way, I told people as we went, “Pond open. Go get skates.” Once we reached the snack shack, I informed the manager that kids were to skate free, on me, and made all the necessary arrangements. Then I stocked back to Sofie’s bench, still carrying her. Setting her next to me, I put on my skates, explaining as I tied them up. “Here’s the deal. We skate for an hour or less. Depending on how long I can touch you without really touching you. Then I take you to our home. By the way, where are you staying? How did you know my skate size?”

  “Well…” she hesitated, leaning her head on my shoulder, laughing.

  Then she looked up at me with her big green eyes. “Do you have something else up your sleeve, future Mrs. Blaxton?”

  “Mmmm… I like the sound of that.”

  “I love it—now, tell me—what other surprises you have in store for me?”

  She stood up, smiling, extending her gloved hand out to me. “Skate with me first, then, I will tell you . . . and show you.” The grin on her face was killing me.

  “Hmm… one hour!”

  “One hour,” she repeated, pulling me along. I followed her out to the ice to join our ice skating guests.

  Holding her hand tightly, we took several trips around the ice. I showed her some of my fancy skating. I got a few twirls out of her. Who knew a California girl could ice skate? I watched her, aching to have more of her. “Sofie, your hour is up,” I informed her. She smiled. “I can’t take anymore. I need you alone. All to myself.” I guided her around the ice, to the skate rental shack, exchanging her shoes, and settling my rental tab. Then I scooped her up in my arms. There was no stopping me.

  “Put me down. I can walk,” she weakly protested with her arms, tight around my neck.

  “No, the best day of my life, I carried you home. I intend to do it again, now.” I walked briskly around the pond, up the sidewalk, across the street, to our front door. Unlocking it, we entered. Then I kicked it shut, locked it, and proceeded right up the stairs like the day I first brought her home. Only this time, once I had her undressed, there was no waiting. I attacked her mouth, her neck, her breasts, her sex, and then, I sunk deep inside of her. Filling her over and over, making her purr my name. She was finally home. I was never ever saying goodbye to her ever again.

  Epilogue

  Three years later…

  Summertime had rolled around. The sun and blue skies had called to me, asking me to join them in The Commons, again. I smiled as I sat on the edge of the pond with my toes in the water, watching the little ones frolic. I loved the tiny voices, especially the one closest to me. “Look! Here comes Daddy!” squealed a little ice cream covered mouth. Raising my head, I saw a gorgeous man, wearing a tailored suit, walking our way, carrying a picnic basket. I understood her excited outburst, I squealed inside every time I saw him, too.

  Setting down the picnic basket, a dark-haired toddler with pigtails and lavender eyes wrapped her two sticky arms around his leg. He immediately reached down, pulled her into his arms, rubbed noses with her, and then bent over to place a kiss on my lips. “Eww,” giggled Autumn, causing us both to laugh.

  “What do you mean eww? I love mommy. I like to kiss her.” He tickled her. She giggled. I smiled as he helped me up. “Lunch for my girls…”

  “Don’t forget brother,” she said, squirming to get down.

  “Of course, how could I forget?” Drake said reaching over and rubbing my very round belly.

  As the seasons changed, so did our life…

  A few weeks before Drake proposed, I had begun to pack up my belongings, mainly clothes and some personal keepsakes. I had put my bungalow on the real estate market as soon as I secured the position with Drake’s architectural firm. I began shipping my things to Boston, most items in my house, I left. The new owner would have the option of keeping the furnishings. Everything I wanted was already housed in a townhouse on Beacon Street.

  When I was making these decisions, I turned to David. Talking over my plans, including another film he was going to be filming in a year and a half. I said I was on board as long as Drake and I could work as a team. In fact, I had decided that that was the only way I would ever work as a production designer, in the future. I was firm. I wanted Drake. Luckily, when I told him, he loved the idea—we worked well as a team on projects together. It was no longer his dream job or my dream job, but ours.

  The night that Drake proposed, he tried to talk me into flying out the next morning to Vegas. He didn’t want to wait. He wanted to be married. He wanted to start a family. As soon as possible. Unbeknownst to us, we became pregnant the night I said yes to forever with Drake.

  The next morning, I thought he was going to have a heart-attack as he walked into his closet. My clothes, shoes, and his robe had all been installed. Thanks to Drake’s father, Charles, and his wife, Vivian, my move to Boston was a breeze. They had invited me into their home to stay while I got everything lined up. Once my belongings arrived, Charles stored my items in his warehouse. The day I had arranged to surprise Drake, Charles had everything moved into my new permanent home. He also, assured me that I wasn’t jumping the gun. His son had poured his heart out to him. I was all he wanted. He loved me. Also, he knew that Drake had long ago purchased an engagement ring for me through his auction house—before he came to LA. That shocked me.

  However, I really shocked the hell out of my man when I insisted on accompanying him to work. He stopped dead in his tracks when people on the crew knew me by name. My move-in surprise was nothing compared to this. Staring at me, I grinned back at him. “Show me the theatre; I’m dying to see it in person.”

  “My pleasure.” With a quizzical look on his gorgeous face, he studied me with his penetrating lavender eyes. I tried not to laugh. “Sofie…”

  “Yes, boss!” I exclaimed, beaming at him.

  “You? You are the theatre expert that Patrick hired?” I nodded, letting it all sink in. “You are the person I have been emailing with for the last two months?” I laughed with another nod. “This is the project you were so thrilled to be part of . . . my dream?

  “Yes, to all of the above. I’m here to make your dream a reality.”

  “In more ways than you could ever imagine.”

  “Are you happy?”

  “Am I happy? A huge smile painted his beautiful face. Then he picked me up and spun me around. I laughed. I have to admit, I was giddy. Then, I was delighted when he settled me on my feet to give me an earth-shattering kiss. Delicious. “I’m always happy when I’m in charge, when I can control you.”

  “Is that so? Does this mean that you will be showing me who is in charge on this job site?” I asked, tossing a sassy wink in his direction.

  “Most definitely,” was his answer. Not only did he stand behind that statement, but on multiple occasions. Over and over, he made his point. Working, as well as, playing together, suited us perfectly.

  Breaking from work for a week at the end of April, we made our way to the Cape to get married. Very small and intimate with limited family and a few friends. Charles and Vivian opened their house to my parents, Gracee, David, Nelle, and their little bundle, Oscar, of course. David served as Drake’s best man and Gracee was my maid of honor, still not talking about her mystery man. My father walked
me down the aisle to my husband-to-be. We opted for a shoeless, short and simple ceremony on the beach, next to a sandcastle built by my groom, early that morning. We both dressed casually; Drake in tan linen pants with a white, long-sleeved, muslin shirt and I wore a white slip dress that showed off my little bump.

  After saying our “I dos,” and kissing for the first time as Mr. and Mrs. Drake Blaxton, we treated our guest to a catered feast, on the patio. Other attendees to our wedding included a few partners from Drake’s firm, such as Patrick and his wife, and Marco brought Kimee. Lila sent her regrets; she, we later learned, was out of the country, working on a film with Blaine. The evening was magical, complete with twinkling lights, streaming romantic music, dancing in the arms of the love of life, and feeling our baby kick for the first time.

  We were thrilled to hear we were having a healthy, baby girl. Drake set right to work, designing an amazing nursery. Of course, he had planned way beyond infancy. Our princess had her own pink, theatrical oasis, complete with a stage, a dress up area with a variety of costumes. Autumn loved her room. He had done a spectacular job.

  This time around, as soon as we knew we were expecting a boy, a whole new theme was brewing in the mind of Drake. A cityscape was quickly constructed in the room that linked to Autumn’s with a Jack and Jill bathroom between. Drake really out did himself, again. He had city murals painted on the walls and then building models were scattered about the room. A double train track was installed around the top of the room. The floor featured roadway rugs, perfect for the abundant of cars and trucks that were ready to be played with, when the baby turned into a toddler. Our son’s room was a mini city. I was sure he would be just as delighted with his room as he grew into it.