Secret Designs

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Secret Designs Page 11

by Miranda P. Charles


  A wide, relieved grin split his face. "An even better idea."

  "We should have planned this earlier. We could have driven straight to your apartment instead."

  "I know," he said with a heavy sigh, his face clouding for a second before he blinked it away. "I'll wait for you to pack an overnight bag then we'll head off. I'll follow your car." He moved away so she could park.

  *

  As Ari packed a small bag, her intuition kept jabbing her.

  She felt Dylan had deliberately avoided her in the past week—and work wasn't the sole reason.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  "Will you be here when I get back in a couple of hours?"

  Ari smiled sleepily at Dylan. Oh, how good was it to see his handsome face first thing in the morning?

  "Most probably not," she answered him. "I have to pick up a few items from the shops, then continue working on the dresses."

  Dylan made a face. "If you snooze for a few more minutes, then have a long shower, then have a leisurely breakfast, I'll be back before you're ready to leave."

  She touched his cheek, unable to deny him. "Okay, then. But if you're not back in two hours I'd really have to go."

  "Deal," he replied happily.

  Dylan leaned down to kiss her goodbye, then she closed her eyes and dozed off.

  *******

  Ari was pouring herself some cereal in Dylan's kitchen when her phone rang.

  Sylvie.

  Her heart pounded. Her sister hardly called outside of their usual Wednesday evening catch-up calls.

  "Hi, Vie," she said cautiously.

  "Hi, Ari. How are you?"

  Oh no. She could tell from Sylvie's voice something wasn't right.

  "I'm okay. What's wrong, Vie?"

  "Um, I just want to know if you have any updates on your job search. Have you found a job yet?"

  "No. Not yet. Why?"

  Sylvie let out a long exhale. "Kenny needs a new prosthesis. He's outgrowing the one he has, and it's making him very cranky when he wears it. He screams at me and tells me he's not going to school and he's not going to rehab unless he gets the new, "cool" leg we promised him. It drives me up the wall sometimes, Ari."

  Ari's heart ached for her sister. Life was not a walk in the park for Sylvie. "Oh, Vie. We were expecting this weren't we? We knew he'd need a new one soon."

  "It will cost several thousands again, Ari," Sylvie said softly, then started sobbing loudly.

  "Vie! What else is wrong?" she asked in panic.

  "It's just that...oh, Ari, I'm so sorry," Sylvie cried. "I'm dragging you down with me. It's not even your problem."

  "Sylvie! How could you say that? Of course it's my problem, too. You and Kenny are my family, for heaven's sake! Stop being so melodramatic."

  She hated it when Sylvie got like this. Her sister always felt guilty that she wasn't earning enough to provide for what her son needed. A stubborn, independent streak ran very strongly in their veins—and in Kenny's, too. As a young seven-year-old, Kenny pushed himself to run every day, so that he could be just like his Paralympian hero. That was why they needed to give Kenny a really good prosthetic leg.

  "What are we going to do, Ari? Shall we look into cheaper alternatives?"

  Ari shut her eyes tight. Without the prospect of permanent employment, and with Sylvie's salary only enough to meet everyday expenses, she wasn't even sure how they could afford a new prosthesis on top of Kenny's physical rehab, counselling sessions, and other medical expenses.

  "That's a good idea, Vie. But don't order one yet until you absolutely have to. Who knows, I might land a job next week."

  "How's the dressmaking thing going?" Sylvie asked.

  She rolled her eyes. She was a couturier, not just a mere dressmaker, but Sylvie just couldn't get the difference.

  "It's going well, actually," she answered. "The problem is I don't know where to find my next customers after I finish this lot I'm doing for Jasmine's wedding." She didn't add that she needed capital to get it off the ground.

  "Maybe I have to go for full-time work or find a second job," Sylvie mused.

  "But who's going to take Kenny to school and doctor's appointments and sports sessions? Kenny needs your time, Vie."

  "So what's the answer, Ari? I can't hold off changing Kenny's prosthesis. He needs a new one sooner rather than later."

  "Find out how much all the alternatives will cost and we'll talk again on Wednesday. I'll check out my current finances and see how much we can afford. Everything will be fine," she said with confidence she didn't feel.

  "Oh, Ari. I'm so sorry. And thank you so much."

  "What are you sorry for, you silly goose?" she demanded.

  "If you didn't give me the money you saved for yourself, you wouldn't be struggling like you are now that you don't have a job."

  "Stop it, Vie. I don't want to hear about this again."

  Sylvie sniffed. "Okay. So when are you coming to visit us?"

  "Soon. I just need to be at a point where I'm confident of finishing Jasmine's wedding orders on time. Then I'll clear a weekend to visit you guys."

  "Okay. Kenny and I miss you."

  "I miss you guys, too."

  *******

  Ari stood outside Dylan's balcony, willing the beautiful vista to give her some inspiration. Or luck.

  Poor little Kenny. He was so young, and he was still recovering from the physical, mental and emotional scars from his horrifying accident. She admired how far he'd gone already—the kid was so resilient—but he still had some way to go before he fully healed. She would so love for him to have the best prosthesis and the best care money could buy—if only she and Sylvie could afford them.

  Her phone buzzed with a message and she frowned when she read it.

  *Babe, Trey will be passing by the apartment around 9:30 to pick up his four bottles of wine from the Wine Club. I get them delivered to my place. He has spare keys but I told him to buzz as you're there. Hope you're still around when I come back. :)*

  She grimaced. She hoped Trey didn't get annoyed or offended that he had to ring the buzzer just because she was there. She knew how a new girlfriend or boyfriend could affect the dynamics of a very close friendship, especially when the friends were used to spending a lot of time together.

  Well, if Trey had misgivings about her, she'd like to change his mind. But first, she had to find out what he really thought of her.

  *******

  "I was surprised when Dylan said you're here today, Ari."

  "It was a last-minute decision," Ari replied as she followed Trey to where Dylan kept his wine collection.

  "You don't need to work today?" Trey queried.

  "I do. I'm leaving as soon as Dylan comes back from his meeting."

  "Any luck with your job hunting?"

  She sighed despondently. "No. If you know of any vacancy anywhere, even if it's stacking shelves in the supermarket, just let me know," she half-joked, hoping to reach out to him.

  Trey shot her a surprised look. "You're that desperate?"

  She laughed mirthlessly. "Almost."

  "Why? I don't mean to be nosy but from what I've heard from Dylan, you worked as a senior designer for well-known companies in the past, I'm sure you would have been on a good salary that would have allowed you to save a bit?"

  She was surprised at Trey's candid question. He was the first one to ask her such a thing. She wasn't offended. It made sense to wonder what she'd done with her past earnings.

  "Like I mentioned last week, when we were all here for dinner, I have to help my sister financially."

  "You're a good sister. It sounds like you do a lot for her?" Trey asked, looking at her in a manner that made her skin prickle.

  "Thanks. We support each other," she replied but loyalty to Sylvie made her hold her tongue on exactly what that support was for. Sylvie's lack of financial ability to look after her son's every need was a very sensitive topic for her sister. She didn't like talking about it to peo
ple she hardly knew.

  "How much are you looking for?" Trey asked.

  "What do you mean?"

  Trey shrugged. "How much do you want?"

  She frowned. "You mean salary-wise? At this point, I don't really care. I'd take anything, although I can't start working until I finish Jasmine's orders. Her dress alone takes so much time to finish."

  "You'll really take a job stacking shelves?"

  "Why not? Of course I'll continue looking for a better paying job, but if there's nothing else for the time being, I'll take it."

  "I happen to know a company who's looking for an admin assistant whose job is to organise supplies in the warehouse. Stacking shelves so to speak," Trey said, looking at her intently.

  "Really? Do you think it will still be available in a month's time?" she asked, her eyes wide with interest.

  "Unlikely. There are always plenty of applicants for that type of job. I can put in a good word for you if you're interested, but you'd need to be available immediately."

  "Hmm," she replied, pressing her lips together. "Thanks. But if they need someone straight away I'll need to pass up. My hands are full with my current orders."

  "So why are you still here instead of getting busy with the dresses then?" Trey asked with narrowed eyes.

  She flushed. "Dylan wants me to be here when he gets back."

  "Oh, I see. You do know he won't like it if you happen to land the job I was talking about? He wouldn't want something like that for his girlfriend."

  "If that's my only choice then he'll have to accept it as well."

  Trey snickered and shook his head. "Come on, Ari."

  "What? I'm serious, Trey."

  He smirked. "You know Dylan well enough to know he won't take it lying down. Why don't you just come right out and ask him for the amount you want?"

  "Are you kidding me? Why would I want to do that?" she asked, horrified.

  Trey tilted his head to the side. "So you could help support your sister?"

  She frowned at the clear sarcasm in Trey's voice. Her jaw dropped and a chill went through her as realisation dawned.

  "You think I'm after Dylan's money?" she whispered in mortification. She could feel the blood drain from her face as she fought the dizziness that hit her.

  Trey didn't answer her. He simply looked at her mulishly.

  "Tell me, Trey. Do you think I'm after Dylan's money?" she asked again, her voice strong and clear; her gaze hard and direct.

  Trey blinked from the intensity of her glare and had the grace to blush. "Look, there's nothing fundamentally wrong with being interested in someone who's well-off. In some ways, it's like being interested in someone who's good-looking. I'm not saying you're going to steal from him or anything. I'm just saying that if you're looking to be supported by Dylan, just straight out ask him instead of beating around the bush with it."

  "I don't believe this," she said, her eyes wide and unblinking as she stared at him in shock.

  Trey shifted from one foot to another, his bluster from a few minutes ago gone. "Listen, Ari. Dylan, Adam, and I...we're just really close and we look after each other. This is one of the ways we do it. We've all had bad experiences and we just wanted to make sure we don't repeat the same mistakes. It's nothing personal."

  Her eyes widened further as Dylan's words floated in her head. 'Don't take it personally, babe. There's a good reason why he's acting like he is.'

  Dylan was in on this? He'd asked Trey to test her out? He suspected her of being a gold digger? Oh my God.

  Her eyes watered. Without another word, she turned on her heel, grabbed her bag, and walked to the door.

  "Ari, wait," Trey called, grabbing her arm. "Dylan really likes you."

  "Sure," she said coldly, extricating herself from his grip. "He just doesn't trust me."

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Dylan unlocked his front door, a smile tugging his lips in anticipation of Ari's greeting. He stopped in his tracks when he saw Trey slumped in his couch with his eyes closed.

  "Before you kill me, I want you to know I'm sorry," Trey said, not moving a muscle but his lips.

  Dylan's heart started galloping. "Where's Ari?"

  Trey took a deep breath. "She left."

  "Why, Trey?" he asked in a low, deliberate voice.

  "I guess she didn't appreciate my line of questioning," Trey responded, opening his eyes and looking at him contritely.

  "I told you to go easy on her, Trey."

  "I know. I just really thought I had her in a corner. I wasn't expecting her reaction."

  "What in the fuck did you tell her?" Dylan hissed, his hands fisted to his sides.

  "I can't remember exactly. Something about just coming right out and asking you for what she wants instead of being subtle about it."

  "Trey!" Dylan looked up in the heavens and raked his fingers through his hair. "That is fucking worse than asking her the usual ISAG twenty questions. That's practically accusing her of being..." He glared at his friend. "What the hell is wrong with you?!"

  "Hey, I'm really sorry! If it's any consolation, I think she's all right. She wouldn't have gotten so mad otherwise."

  The joy that burst within him at Trey's declaration tempered his anger. Ari's feelings for him were genuine. The barrier he'd built around his heart had finally crumbled. Completely.

  "It might be best if you stay away from her for a while," he said to Trey without heat. "Let her get over being mad at you first."

  "Ah, sure," Trey said hesitantly. "Did I tell you she's mad at you, too?"

  "Me? Why?"

  "She thinks you don't trust her," Trey said with a grimace.

  Fear clutched Dylan's heart. "No."

  *******

  Ari's recorded greeting blared loudly through the car speakers.

  Dylan groaned silently and gripped the steering wheel tighter as he waited for the beep.

  "Hi, Ari, it's me. I'm on my way to your place. I spoke with Trey and he told me what happened. I'm really sorry, baby. We'll talk more when I get there."

  How was he going to explain himself to Ari? Tell her the whole story to justify his and Trey's actions? Or would it make her even angrier that she was compared to gold digging opportunists they'd dated in the past?

  The more he thought about it, the more ashamed he felt at even doubting her. Ari wasn't some girl he met at a bar. She wasn't some nameless woman who'd stalked him following a one-night stand. He'd said all along she didn't deserve to be treated in a similar vein. So why had he let it happen? Now she thought he didn't trust her.

  The simple truth was he was far too afraid of his feelings for her. He got overwhelmed by their swift onset and intensity. For the first time in a long time, he feared he didn't have control of how his life was unfolding.

  But now an even greater fear was pumping through him. What if he'd totally and irrevocably stuffed it up with her?

  His phone pinged with a text message. He stopped at a red light and glanced at the screen.

  *I'm not home. Don't bother going there.*

  He rang her again but she still didn't pick up. Fuck. She was really mad at him.

  Well, she might be at the shops right that minute, but she would have to go home sometime. Even if he had to camp outside her apartment for the whole day, he would.

  *******

  Dylan smiled at the middle-aged woman who stared at him with a suspicious look on her face.

  "What are you doing there?" the lady asked.

  "I'm waiting for Ari," he responded from his sitting position on the floor outside Ari's door, looking up with what he hoped to be a friendly enough face.

  "Are you the owner of that black Mercedes sports car parked outside?"

  "Yes."

  "How did you get in the building?"

  "Someone was going out the front door so I went in. I'm Dylan, the boyfriend of the girl who lives here." He stood up and offered his hand.

  The woman took a couple of seconds before deciding to shake
his hand, albeit very reluctantly. "Doesn't she know you're coming? Didn't you call her first?"

  "I know she's at the shops at the moment. And yes, I told her I was coming."

  "I am going to call Ari now," the woman said with animosity, pulling her phone from her bag. "If she says she doesn't want to talk to you or see you, you are leaving, mister. My husband is right next door and all I have to do is call out to him if you give me a hard time."

  Dylan was surprised at the woman's anger. Had Ari warned her neighbours about not wanting to see him?

  "Hello, Ari? How are you?...Well, I'm calling to see if you were expecting someone to come by your place today...No?...Okay, not to worry …"

  Dylan hid his exasperation. He had no doubts Mrs. Overzealous would make good on her promise to throw him out. He stepped closer to the phone and spoke in a loud voice.

  "Ari, it's Dylan. I'm outside your door waiting for you. Please let me stay."

  Dagger glares were thrown at him while the neighbour listened to Ari's response. "Are you sure?...Okay then. If you need me, just holler."

  Mrs. Overzealous gave him a warning look as she placed her phone back in her bag. "She's just parking her car. I don't even know why you're back here after everything you've put her through. But if you give her a hard time today, you'll have a lot to answer for."

  Dylan stared at Ari's neighbour in disbelief. Sure, Ari must have been really angry at him from what happened that morning, but her friend's reaction was totally out of proportion.

  "Could you tell me why you seem to hate me?" he asked Mrs. Overzealous.

  "I know you," she responded with squinted eyes. "Ari told us about you. You were the one who cheated on her with one of her friends then had the hide to throw in her face how much you've spent on her to cover up your guilt."

  Dylan could only look at the woman with a dumbfounded expression.

  "So why are you here?" Mrs. Overzealous continued, seething. "Lord only knows why she wants to see you again, but Ari's always been soft. But you don't deserve her, you cheating bastard."

 

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