Her mouth dropped open as tears streamed down her face.
“Shit, that isn’t what I meant.” I shook my hands and she flinched. “I mean, I never planned to hurt you.”
Damn it. My mouth was making everything worse. I don’t seem to be very good at putting women at ease. And I was even worse dealing with the most beautiful woman in the world.
“I just want to leave, okay?” Her voice trembled.
I stepped forward to comfort her, but she stumbled back slamming into the wall behind her.
“Look, Aria, I wanted a moment to explain myself. You walked off before I could say anything. I didn’t realize this was a broom closet. I thought maybe it was an office or work room or something. Just a room with some privacy so I could explain.”
She wiped her tears with her fingers. I reached into my pocket and gave her a handkerchief. I waved it in the air like a white flag and gave her a small grin. Aria hesitantly reached forward and grabbed it before blowing her nose into the cloth.
“Then why won’t you open the door?” Aria asked, her voice small, and hiccupped before trying to hand me back the handkerchief. I waved it away letting her know she could keep it.
“The door won’t open.” There was no easy way to tell her so I let it out. “We’re locked in here.” I turned and showed her how the doorknob wouldn’t move.
Finding her resolve, Aria pushed past me and tried her hand at the door—like I was completely inept in using something as simple as a doorknob. For a minute, she pushed and pulled at the doorknob with no success. Once she pounded on the door with her fist and began to yell, I joined her.
We tried for several minutes until Aria stepped back with rapid breath.
“I can’t believe we are stuck in here. What were you thinking dragging me in here?” She slapped my arm, not hard, but enough to let me know she wasn’t happy.
“I don’t know. There’s something about you. I get flustered and don’t really know what to say or how to act.”
Aria sat back on a stool. “I’m being serious, Mr. Hawthorne—”
“Please, call me Alex,” I said and smiled.
She hesitated before taking a breath. “Okay, Alex. Someone like you doesn’t get flustered around someone like me. I want the truth as to why you brought me in here.”
“I’m serious, Aria. Why wouldn’t someone like me be nervous around you?”
She rolled her eyes as she leaned back against the wall the stool was up against. “You’re rich, Alex. From what I’ve learned in life, rich people get whatever they want. And even if you didn’t have money, I’m sure there aren’t many women who have told you no.”
Stupid me. I forgot how Aria thought of me.
“You know, my mom and you have a lot in common.” The corner of my mouth hitched as I shook my head. “You both think I don’t have anything to offer the world besides my money and my smile. Thank you, Aria. I thought it was just my mom who was a terrible person for telling me those things all my life, but now I realize that maybe she was right.”
I turned back to the door and began to shove my body against it, intending to break it down. It’s not so much that I wanted out, but I had to hit something hard and the door was right there.
“Alex. Alex!”
I hesitated but refused to turn toward her. Even when she placed her hand on my arm, I wouldn’t let her soft, warm touch sway me.
“I’m sorry, Alex. That’s not what I meant.”
I finally turned to find deep mocha eyes and a soft smile turned up toward me.
“Sorry?”
The only time my mother ever apologized was to get something from me. I realized Aria wasn’t my mom, but the way she had been treating me since I met her had me wondering if I had some weird mother complex.
I felt nauseous.
“Yes, Alex. I am sorry I said that back at your place about people only liking you for your looks or money. It was mean, and I was hurt. But, that’s no excuse. Maybe I’m not as confident in my art as I would like to be. When you bought my work, I felt validated that someone other than my friends liked my paintings.”
“Your artwork is amazing, Aria. It’s what first drew me to you.”
She wrinkled her nose, and it was the most adorable thing I had ever seen.
“Really? Thank you.” She took a breath and smiled at me. “And, I have to say, your place is to die for. I’m not just talking about how big it is or those hi-tech security gadgets, I mean your taste in art. I’m jealous.”
“How about we start over?” I held out my hand to her. “Hi. I’m Alex Hawthorne. I’m a rich recluse who only buys artwork by the most talented artists the world has ever seen.”
She smiled and took my hand to shake. “Hi, I’m Aria Dixon. I’m a not-so-struggling artist who just had a famous art collector buy all of her work.”
I laughed and held her hand for a moment too long. I could tell because of the way she was staring at my hand and quickly pulled her arm away.
“Is that the second or third time we tried to start over?” Aria asked as she wrinkled her nose again and glanced at a broom in the corner.
“If we don’t count the first time in the basement garage—”
“Technically, you never told me who you were in the basement. Bradley told us his name, but you never said anything.”
I shoved my hands into my pockets also glancing at the broom in the corner. “Yeah, about that. Bradley, who happens to be the head of my security, wanted to make sure I was safe. We didn’t mean to scare you. I didn’t think it was a good idea to take you to that dark room but he insisted for safety.”
Aria waved her hands. “Don’t worry about it. I thought it was kind of fun. We were on an adventure and besides, I’ve dealt with worse. Morgana was the one who peed herself. But I made it up to her and bought her some cake so she was happy in the end.”
I made two mental notes at that moment: 1. What had Aria dealt with that being trapped by two men in a dark basement wasn’t the worst thing? And 2. I’ll have to send Aria’s roommate a cake from my personal baker.
“I never thought you were a prostitute.”
As long as we were clearing the air I felt like that really needed to be cleaned up.
“Then why were you offering to pay me to have sex with you?” Aria pointed toward the door.
“That’s not what I meant when I said I wanted to hire you. I wanted you to paint a mural in my bedroom. You’re so talented and I wanted something unique just for me.”
And I wanted a chance to get to know the woman I had been fantasizing about for three years.
I tried to look at Aria again but I felt the heat rising in my neck. My eyes landed on a large yellow bucket resting against the back wall.
“Wow. I was way off on that one.” She grimaced. “Sorry.”
I tried to laugh to ease the tension but it ended up as a snort. Glancing at Aria, she had her hand over her mouth obviously holding back a laugh.
“I know my reputation, Aria, and it really isn’t what you think—”
“Alex, it’s none of my business. Really, what you do in your bedroom is, well, I guess it is sort of my business now that I am going to paint a mural.”
My eyes widened, and I thought my heart was going to pop out of my chest. “Really? So that’s a yes to painting a mural for me?”
She nodded. Without thinking, I opened my arms and picked her up for a big hug. Aria was soft and smelled sweet and airy, like spring. I didn’t normally go around hugging people but I was ecstatic.
“Alex?” Aria said, her voice muffled.
“Right. I’m sorry. I should put you down now.”
Only I didn’t. I squeezed her tighter. Not only that, but I sniffed her. Not a subtle intake of breath; no, my awkwardness around this woman had no bounds. It was the loud and obvious sniff variety. It was her hair, too. Her silky, honey hair was right by my nose so it’s not like I could help myself.
I heard a creak from behind us as a cool
rush of air filled the closet.
“Found them.” A very male voice came from behind me. “And they still have their clothes on so it’s okay to look.”
I finally let go of Aria. Actually, I let her soft body slowly slide down mine trying to milk every second I could. When I turned, I saw stern blue eyes staring daggers at me. It was Aria’s friend, Evaleen, and behind her was the owner of the male voice, the bartender.
“We meet again. I’ll be taking my friend back.” She reached inside and helped Aria move past me. Before she left, Evaleen turned back toward me. “I suggest for your own well-being you stop stalking my friend Aria. Or I might have to give your mother a call.”
Evaleen knew who I was. But what surprised me even more was that she knew my mother was a threat.
FIVE
Aria
“It’s so big.” Tiffany’s mouth fell open as her head dropped back taking in the full length.
“I know, it’s as if the old stiff was compensating for something.” I chuckled, tilting my head back to gaze up at the tip.
“Compensating? But it’s a building. And I thought you told me Alexander Hawthorne wasn’t old? You said he looked younger than you.”
Turning my head, I found a confused Tiffany glancing between me and Alexander’s building.
“Alexander didn’t build this, he just owns it. It was built in the 1920s. I know enough about Chicago Architecture to know that whoever designed the Haute Tower was old, male, and has long since died. Being one of the tallest buildings at the time, I can almost guarantee he felt sad about his lack of manhood so he decided to take it out on the world by building a large phallic symbol.”
Tiffany frowned. “I don’t think I can ever walk into a building again without thinking of old men with penis issues.”
“You’re welcome.” I curtsied. “Now, come help me design the crap out of the wall of a recluse’s bedroom.”
Tiffany nodded. We began to move toward the front entrance but as I was about to push through the revolving door, something made me stop. A shiver ran up my spine as if someone was staring at me so I turned. Searching the various people walking up and down the sidewalks of the city, I found no eyes turned my way.
I shook my head and shrugged it off along with the still bitter cold of an early spring day once we were inside. Glancing around, I was surprised by the small lobby. The slabs of dark marble that covered everything made it appear smaller than it should. My eyes landed on the two metal elevators behind a security desk.
Last time I was here, we came in through the garage. And, I was pretty sure staring at the elevator wall wasn’t automatically going to take me to his floor like it did for Alex.
“Did he tell you to call him when we arrived?” Tiffany’s innocent brown eyes darted around like a lost puppy.
“He doesn’t know about this,” I said.
“You didn’t tell him I was coming? I thought he was okay with me helping layout the design on his walls?”
Tiffany went to school for design. She never graduated as her son David surprised her and her deceased husband. A year before she graduated she left school to become a mother and wife.
She works from home now doing graphic design, and I thought she would be the perfect person to help me with the layout of my mural.
“I never had a chance to talk to him about it. Don’t worry, Tiffany, it’s not like he’s going to hold us against our will. He only did that once, and he has since apologized for it.” I shook my head and patted Tiffany on the back.
Alex never contacted me after asking me to paint the mural last Thursday. It’s Tuesday and since I still haven’t heard from him, I figured I would stop by to pay him a visit. I figured the worst-case scenario would be him telling us to come back another day to start the work.
I tried to make my way toward the elevators before I heard a deep voice. “Can I help you two ladies?”
The security man, with graying hair and a thick neck, glanced in my direction through weary eyes.
“Yes, we are here to see Mr. Alexander Hawthorne.”
His lip ticked up as he pushed back his black security hat. “Is that so.”
I nodded but he didn’t say anything, only folded his hands in front of his belly while leaning back in his chair.
“Do I take one of these elevators or do you need to call him?” I waved my hands at him because he wasn’t doing anything. As far as security guards go, he wasn’t very good.
“Oh, how rude of me. Just take that door right there. It should be obvious what to do next.”
I glanced at the door near the far wall. “But . . . that has an Exit sign over it . . .”
He waved me over. I came to stand as close as I could with his wooden desk in the way. Leaning toward him, he lifted his hand as if to whisper something to me, “It’s to fool all the reporters and unwanted people.”
When I pulled away he winked.
Waving Tiffany over, we walked over to the Exit door and pushed. It was hard to open but we managed to shove through before stumbling onto the pavement.
“We’re in an alley,” Tiffany said.
“That asshole.”
The door slammed behind us and I noticed we were standing next to a dumpster beside the building we were just in.
How am I supposed to paint Alex’s bedroom if I can’t even get into his place?
“I’m going back in there and tell that man exactly who I am and that Alex is going to be very upset that he prevented me from meeting him.”
I realized I sounded terrible but I was mad. At the very least he could call Alex to make sure I could go up. That lazy guard couldn’t even do that.
“Aria, no, I don’t think that’s—”
I threw my arms in the air. “He’s going to be very sorry he messed with Aria Dixon. Very sorry. When I’m through with him, I’ll—”
The door that we just came through swung open. A police officer stood in the middle of the doorframe and stared at us.
“Are you two ladies lost?” The tall, lanky officer who seemed too young to hold a badge stepped out into the alleyway and right behind him was the security guard twat.
“Oh, no, Officer, we were just leaving,” Tiffany said as she grabbed my arm trying to pull me away but I was having none of that.
“Yes, we are lost. And when we asked this guard how to find our way, he led us to this alleyway. Seems a little bit suspicious to me.” I tugged my arm away from Tiffany and folded my arms, firming my stance.
“Is that so?” the officer said as he pushed his hat back.
I narrowed my eyes, glancing at the officer and then at the security guard. “Are you two related?”
“Yes,” they answered at the same time.
Now I’ll never get into see Alex.
“Mr. Hawthorne has no visitors scheduled for today. The only way to see Mr. Hawthorne is with a scheduled visit, unless you are his mother.” The guard leaned forward as to inspect us closer. “And neither of you two ladies look like his mother.” The guard leaned back against the doorframe.
“But I am his mother.” A deep feminine voice came from behind the security guard causing him to jump.
He turned and nodded his head profusely. “Yes, Mrs. Hawthorne. Forgive me, I didn’t see you there.”
“It’s all right, Mitch. I can vouch for these ladies. I’ll take them to see my son.”
I smirked at the officer and guard as I passed them, walking back into the building. That was nice of Alex’s mom to help us out. He must have told her about me. Maybe she had seen my paintings and wanted to be in on the design. While it’s his room, I think a feminine perspective might be helpful.
“Thank you, Mrs. Hawthorne. I’m Aria Dixon,” I said as I followed her past the elevators behind the guard desk to another door.
“I know who both of you are,” Mrs. Hawthorne said.
My eyes widened as I turned my head to Tiffany. I understand how Mrs. Hawthorne would know who I was, but how would she know Ti
ffany?
Tiffany appeared as confused as me.
When we entered the other room, I noticed an elevator. It seemed to know Mrs. Hawthorne was coming as it opened as she drew near. The doors started to close so Tiffany and I picked up our pace to hop inside. The door nearly closed on Tiffany’s red scarf, but she yanked it away in time.
As the lift began to move, I held my hand out to Mrs. Hawthorne. “It’s so lovely to meet you.”
She turned her head toward me and I noticed her eyes at once. So much like her son’s but with age they seemed to darken to a worn iron. There was an air of polish about her, but with a little too much shine. Her high cheekbones held unusually tight, blemish free skin. Even her beautiful raven hair, that glistened in the florescent light of the elevator, appeared so perfectly coiffed into a French twist I had to stare at her roots to make sure it wasn’t a wig.
There was a familiarity about Mrs. Hawthorne. I couldn’t imagine she came to any of the bars I tended. Perhaps I saw her at an art show once.
She scrutinized me with precision before producing the tiniest smile and turning back to face the metal doors.
“I don’t mean to be rude, but I prefer not to touch people if I don’t have to.”
Okay.
I slid my eyes toward Tiffany as she frowned. Tiffany pushed her hands into her pockets and I wondered if she had wanted to shake Mrs. Hawthorne’s hand too.
The elevator stopped and the doors flew open. We followed Mrs. Hawthorne down the art-filled hall and through the haunted door, right into Alex’s living room. It was even more beautiful in the daytime with light from the windows overlooking the river and the city. It was as if the window was one of the art pieces.
“Mom, what are you . . .? Aria?”
I turned to find Alex dressed in low hanging sweatpants and no shirt. Heat gathered between my legs and I immediately removed my puffy coat. I will, one day, want this room as my eternal resting place, I just didn’t want that time to start today. If I left the coat on, I might perish due to heat exposure and possible ovary explosion.
“There’s my boy.” His mother walked over to him, cupping his cheeks and kissing both.
One Wild Ride Page 3
