Reckless Abandon

by Jeannine Colette

  He loved her for all the wrong reasons.

  My weight shifts from one foot to the other. Wanting a family is not something to hide or be ashamed of. “I don’t understand.”

  Alexander runs his hands through his hair. “The first girl I ever loved . . .” he starts, as if I could have forgotten there was a first girl. “She loved me only because I was an Asher. She wanted the money and the power, not me. I learned a long time ago that having what my parents had would never exist for me. No one would ever love me for me. It’s the Edward Asher way. My grandfather believed that love is what ruined people. You could have business and you can have pleasure but you can never rely on someone.”

  She loved him for all the wrong reasons.

  “And then Kathryn came around and she was different with me. She didn’t care about the money and she wasn’t impressed with the power. She was something I was searching for but she wasn’t right for me. She didn’t love me and I just loved the thought of her.”

  I see nothing but darkness because my eyes are closed so tight. Is it possible that no one in this world has ever loved this man as much as I do? He doesn’t believe anyone could. I bet he never let anyone in long enough to see the real Alexander.

  I loved him when I thought he had nothing. I hated him when I learned he had everything. Despite it all, I am soulfully in love with him but I don’t know how to prove it.

  “You’re funny.”

  “Excuse me?”

  I open my eyes and see a confused look on his face. “You’re funny. You make me laugh. And you’re a pretty good cook. I think you’d be better if you tried making more things at home. You’re also kind to strangers and incredibly smart. That’s probably the first thing I ever learned about you. How smart you are. It’s really attractive.”

  One brow rises. “Attractive, huh?”

  I look down at the ground and smile. “Among other things.”

  His lip curls into an almost-smile. “What else do you find attractive?”

  I look up at him and scrunch my face using a sarcastic tone. “Your modesty.” He shakes and I continue. “You have a terrible singing voice,” I say and he looks up at me in surprise. I offer him a laugh and go on. “You can dance. You’re also an amazing teacher. You have patience with kids and an incredible way of making your lessons interesting and fun. Your heart is so big and full of love and hope. What you did with the Juliette Academy, creating it from scratch, is remarkable.”

  I take a few steps toward him. “You have a great smile and when you let it out, it’s like the whole world lights up too.”

  Alexander places his forehead against mine. “Thank you for that.”

  I lace my hands around his waist. “I mean it.”

  His eyes close and he breathes out as if his body is saying, I so hope you do. He takes his free hand and tugs a stray hair of mine behind my ear. He can’t see what he’s doing but he’s done it so many times, it’s muscle memory.

  “What were you doing hanging that stupid card up anyway?”

  “I thought I’d put up some Christmas cheer. I didn’t get a tree this year. It’s the first time I’ve never had a tree up.”

  “I haven’t had one in years.”

  I push back from him and frown. “Your grandfather didn’t let you put up a tree?”

  Alexander shakes his head indifferently. “He had one. The old man had the largest tree in Manhattan. I haven’t had one since I moved out at twenty-two.”

  My brows shoot up. “You haven’t had a tree in ten years?”

  He shakes his head.

  I step to the side and grab my coat and purse off the hook by the front door. “Put some clothes on. I just decided what I’m buying you for Christmas.”

  We went and bought our first Christmas tree together. When we walked to the corner tree stand, Alexander’s face lit up. I could see he wanted to buy the biggest one they had. Unfortunately, my apartment can barely fit the two of us, let alone a large piece of pine.

  Luckily, the man also sold small tabletop trees for people who live like we do. It is so small, Alexander was able to carry it home in one hand. We stopped at the pharmacy and picked up a small package of lights and some ornaments. When we got home, we had our tree up and decorated in fifteen minutes.

  It’s not much of a Christmas gift but seeing the look on Alexander’s face makes it worth it. The man could have a sixteen-foot tree in his uptown apartment but here he is with a look of complete satisfaction looking at his tabletop tree.

  He is also wearing a look of satisfaction because we are currently lying naked on the chesterfield eating Thai food.

  “Naked Thai is now my favorite takeout of all time,” he says, using his chopsticks to pop in a bite of pad thai.

  I laugh and my back vibrates against the arm of the chair. We are each on an opposite end of the couch, our toes resting near the other’s side, a blanket thrown over us. The room is completely dark except for the twinkling lights on the tree. “It looks like Charlie Brown’s Christmas Tree.”

  “It’s perfect,” he says and offers me a bite of his food. I lean forward and take a bite.

  I settle back in my spot and find peace with the moment. Now if only he would say those three little words, life would be better. Is that weird? A twenty-five-year-old woman needing to hear the words “I love you” in order to feel validation. It’s not enough he is here every night and has declared himself “all in” numerous times. There is something about hearing the words that brings a form of security.

  It’s only been three weeks.

  Yes, but its also been five months.

  My head is always a freakin’ mess when it comes to him.

  Alexander raises his toe and nudges my side to get my attention. “Earth to Emma.”

  “Sorry. Just daydreaming,” I say, and Alexander looks back at me with a smirk as if asking “About me?”

  “Always about you,” I add.

  He laughs and takes a final bite of his food before putting the carton down on the coffee table. “May I ask you a question?”

  “Anything.”

  “Why won’t you ask your sister if I can go to the wedding?”

  Ugh, anything but that. I squeeze my palm and think of the million reasons why I have been putting off asking Leah if I can bring him to the wedding. I want him to meet my family but I’m not ready for their opinions and glares. Going home is going to be hard enough. I don’t need Alexander witnessing the uncomfortableness that is me being in the same house as my parents. Even still, the real reason, the only reason that matters is, simply, Leah.

  “It’s her big day and you are not on her list of favorite people. This is the one time in her life that is all about her and I’m not going to ruin it by making it about me. I’ve done enough of that this year. Hell, she postponed her first wedding date because I was too mentally unstable. I’m not doing that to her again.”

  “You’re a grown woman, you should be able to bring a date to your sister’s wedding.”

  I let out an unattractive huff. “You’re not just anyone. You’re the yacht sex guy who deserted me in a foreign country without saying good-bye.”

  “Yacht sex guy?” Alexander asks with a puzzled look. He would have no idea if that term is a compliment or a criticism. I never told him how we saw him having sex with another woman the day before we met him. It’s actually something I’ve been avoiding.

  “It’s not a good thing. I have something I need to ask you and I want you to be honest.”

  Alexander crosses his arms over his broad bronzed skin, ready for the question.

  “The day before I met you, Leah and I saw you with a woman on your boat. We didn’t know it was you at the time. Leah had these, crazy binoculars and . . . anyway, that doesn’t matter. She recognized you when she met you. Not as Alexander Asher but as the guy on the boat.

  “When she found out you were lying to me about who you were, she painted this picture of you in her head as this awful person. A womani
zer. Later I did too. She said she’s seen you in articles since with other women and, well, she just doesn’t like you.” When the last words are out of my mouth, my shoulders are so tense they’ve risen up to my chin. We’ve come so far, I don’t want to rehash the past and make him feel awful but he deserves to know why Leah doesn’t want him in Cedar Ridge this weekend.

  Alexander’s mouth is set in a grim line yet he’s looking straight at me, piercing me with a look of sheer determination. “She’s right. I was a womanizer. Was being the operative word. I used women and they used me right back.”

  I let down my shoulders. You have to give credit to a man who can admit his mistakes. “Malory was the woman I saw you with on the boat, wasn’t she?”

  Alexander lowers his head and grunts. “Yes.” He looks back up and his pupils dilate. I know it’s because he can see mine are wide as well. “Emma.” His voice is thick and desperate with meaning. “I haven’t been with anyone since I met you. Even when we were apart.”

  I open my mouth to say something but he cuts me off.

  “Going to a party and being photographed with someone doesn’t mean we were together. You ruined me in Italy. I haven’t been able to think of anyone else. I was just too stubborn to go after you. Then fate brought you to me, and that’s when I knew for sure. Anything that happened before us is obsolete. I need you to believe me.”

  Fate is a tricky bitch. What would life be like if I’d never come to New York? If I decided to stay close to my parents and let them dote on me? I might have never seen him again.

  If I want to get real morbid I could think that if Parker never dumped me, Luke would still be alive, and Leah wouldn’t have called off her wedding, and I never would have met Alexander at all.

  I can’t go there. The reality is I did meet him and here we are trying to move forward, but constantly being pulled back.

  “I believe you. I do. This weekend is just not the time to bring you home. My family . . . they worry. They have questions and they hover and they—”

  “You don’t think they’ll approve of me?” Alexander pushes the blanket away from him and rises. His glorious body is naked and hard with anger.

  “That’s not what I mean—”

  “You’re in or you’re out, Emma. Why won’t you fight for me?”

  I sit up on the couch. “You are asking me to choose between you and my family. I can’t do that. Not after all that’s happened. I want you with me. I want you on my arm but not at the expense of hurting my sister. She knows how I feel about you but she has no idea what your intentions are. All she knows is what she’s seen so far and she doesn’t exactly trust my judgment these days.”

  Alexander walks back to the bedroom and starts pulling pants up his legs. I grab the blanket and wrap it around my naked body, following him toward the room.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I need to think,” he says, his arms sliding into a long-sleeved crew-neck shirt.

  He needs to think?

  Thinking is bad. Thinking means doubts and thinking leads to questioning your judgment.

  “Can’t you think here?” My voice cracks. I breathe steadily to will myself not to get emotional.

  Alexander is sliding on his loafers and running a hand through his hair. “No. I think I’ll spend the night uptown. Get used to not seeing you for a few days.”

  This time it’s my turn to clench my jaw and go grim and broody.

  “You’re running. Figures. It’s what you do best.” My words are cold and callous. I turn around and walk back to the living room and take a seat in the chesterfield, pulling the blanket tightly around me. I wince at the sting in my hand that grows the tighter I pull.

  The room is still dark except for the damn tree. It looks so festive yet the air is crinkling with anything but holly and joy. Instead I feel anger and resentment.

  I should have known our bubble of bliss would be short-lived.

  Alexander is not leaving as quickly as I thought he would. In fact, his movements have slowed quite a bit. Out of the corner of my eye I can see his shadow lurking in the hallway. He’s so damn tall and commanding, it’s hard to ignore his presence.

  I fix my gaze on the bookshelves in front of me and try to ignore the urge to turn and run into his arms.

  He takes a couple of steps toward me, seemingly unsure if he should approach. I let out a loud sigh and he takes that as his cue to walk over to me. Alexander lowers himself to his knees so we are eye level.

  Even in the dark, in the twinkling lights, I fall into the damn rabbit hole like I always do. I lift my hand and brush his forehead, cupping his beautiful face in my palm. He relaxes into my skin and lets out a sound of defeat.

  “I don’t want to run anymore.”

  “I don’t want you to run anymore.”

  “I’m still mad.”

  “That’s okay.”

  He is so afraid of being alone and unwanted. At the first sign of an argument he goes running. But here we are, reconciling like two adults. We may be okay after all.

  At least I desperately hope so.

  Today has been a strange day. Alexander left early for the office. It was the first time he didn’t wake me before he left. We didn’t talk anymore last night. I let him “think” on the chesterfield while I went to bed. When I woke up at seven, he was gone.

  He also cancelled his lessons today, saying he had some important meetings uptown that couldn’t be rescheduled. If there is one thing I found to be true about Alexander Asher it is that the Juliette Academy is the most important thing in his life.

  The fact he cancelled classes is alarming.

  I left the school early today to make my flight. Alexander wanted me to take his private plane home but I told him it was a gross waste of money. I can fly commercial just like the rest of the world. I did, however, concede to letting his assistant Cecilia book my ticket for me. I have a five o’clock flight out of Newark on United.

  A little after two, I walked my suitcase down the stairs and onto the curb in order to hail a cab. I shouldn’t have been surprised to see Devon there, but I was really hoping he wouldn’t be. Instead of arguing, I handed him my suitcase and climbed into the front seat.

  So, here I am with Devon driving us through the Lincoln tunnel and we emerge in New Jersey. I don’t know my way around the Garden State but when I started seeing signs for Teterboro Airport instead of Newark, red flags go off in my head.

  “Where are we going?”

  “To the airport,” Devon answers in a straightforward manner.

  I scowl at him. “Which airport?”

  Devon bites down on his lip and doesn’t answer.

  I cross my arms and push my back into the leather seat and huff in frustration. I have a really good idea where we are going. My suspicions are confirmed when we pull into the private flight terminal outside Teterboro and end up next to a private plane with the name ASHER on the side.

  “No. I can’t—” I look at the time. “I have a flight at Newark in two hours.”

  Devon shakes his head and opens the door. “No, you don’t,” he says before exiting the car.

  I can’t believe him. It’s bad enough the man has been ignoring me all day. Now I know he lied to me about the commercial flight and is making me take his very extravagant private plane.

  Okay, I understand how this sounds.

  Ungrateful.

  I hear it in my own voice.

  I pull out my phone to text Alexander but don’t know exactly what to write. It’s not like he’s been communicative today. In fact, it’s been radio silence. I put the phone away and step out of the car when Devon opens my door.

  A woman greets me at the bottom of the stairs leading onto the plane. I give her a shaky smile and climb up the staircase. When I’m inside the plane I’m completely taken aback. Creamy ivory leather seats line the cabin, eight in total. A shiny birch veneer dining table matches the veneer accents throughout making it feel like I’ve stepped onto
Air Force One. I peek in the back of the plane and see a bedroom with a full-size bed and a bathroom.

  I take a seat in one of the eight passenger seats by the window. When the captain comes over to greet me, I ask him where we’ll be landing so I can text the information to my family. I don’t know who is picking me up. It was supposed to be Leah but she has an emergency wedding thing to take care of.

  I keep my phone on for the flight as the plane is equipped with wi-fi and wait for Alexander to text or call . . . or something. I suppose I could text him a thank-you but I didn’t ask for this and my stubbornness keeps me from contacting him.

  We are two people who were burned by the past. When you have been hurt before it is difficult not to bring the pain with you into the present.

  Parker left me for the possibility of something better. How am I not to assume someone else will feel the same way he did and leave me? Alexander loved a woman who loved him only for his money and another who was in love with someone else.

  Rascal Flatts wrote a beautiful song called “Broken Road.” It was about how every breakup and broken heart paves the pathway to finding your true love. The verse they forgot to write was about the midnight fight over trust issues.

  I understand why he is upset. In a relationship, you should put the one you love first. When it comes to my family, I am having a hard time doing that.

  When Parker left me, I was devastated. I put my own desires first. My need for a thrill put Luke in danger. It doesn’t matter he was driving. I egged him on. Too many lives were ruined in the process.

  Am I punishing Alexander for Parker’s mistakes? Am I punishing him for my mistakes?

  My inner monologue on whether to call Alexander or not takes over the entire flight and before I know it, an hour and a half has passed and we are starting our decent to Columbus.

  The plane lands and I gather my purse and thank the captain and stewardess for a lovely flight, feeling so awkward for having taken it at all.

  Descending from the plane, I see my dad’s Toyota Corolla waiting for me. My dad is standing at the foot of the car watching a man put my suitcase in the trunk of the car.