One Wild Ride

by Elizabeth Lynx

  “Why are you all wet?” she asked and I instantly glanced down at my jeans for fear my ovaries had already burst.

  “I just got out of the shower. Why are you here?”

  With relief I realized Mrs. Hawthorne wasn’t referring to what was between my legs. But that didn’t stop my ovaries from threatening total meltdown when I saw Alex’s hypno-eyes staring at me.

  Heat was migrating up my body to my cheeks, and I knew I wasn’t the only one taken in by this reclusive Adonis. I turned to find Tiffany staring at Alex’s bare chest.

  “To help you of course. I hear you wish to have a mural painted in your bedroom by your artist friend, Ms. Dixon.” She waved her hand at me that glittered from the various diamond rings that littered her fingers.

  “But it’s my bedroom, Mother. I don’t need your input.” Alex folded his arms in front of his chest. You would think that would help cool me down, but the way his arms grew bigger, his muscles tighter, I almost drooled at the sight. I could hear Tiffany whimper beside me.

  “Alexander, sweet boy, I let you live in this building. Where do you think your money comes from? If you wish to change something, I must have input on it. It’s in the lease.” She placed her hand on Alex’s arm but immediately pulled it back and wiped her palm on her black, wool pencil skirt.

  SIX

  Alexander

  “That’s all wrong,” my mother said for the tenth time today.

  Mother had nixed every idea Aria had come up with so far. Aria and her friend, Tiffany, had been nice and accommodating but I could tell Aria was becoming frustrated. Not as frustrated as me, but I don’t think it’s humanly possible for anyone to get as frustrated as me.

  “Mom, I appreciate your input. Maybe it would be easier for Aria if you told her what you would like to see on the wall.” I ran my fingers through my hair.

  Being this close to Aria made my fingers want to curl and tense. I settled on scratching my nails on my scalp—the only acceptable tension relief I could do in front of company.

  I thought the mural would be a great way to do something personal, for me. Not just that, but spend some time with Aria. It’s not that I got a lot of chances to hang out with sexy, talented women. It might be an excuse to have her near me, but now I wanted to tear everything down by hand.

  My mom walked up to the wall and stood silently. I rubbed my face because I knew what she was doing. She didn’t want this mural. She hated that I went behind her back to do something she didn’t request personally.

  Angry and humiliated, that as a twenty-six-year-old billionaire the only thing I was allowed to do without my mother getting involved was buy art. It’s the one thing that she knew I had taste in.

  Plus, it added value. Art was an investment, and she preferred anything that would give her more money.

  “I’m thinking we leave things the way they are. I love this wallpaper. It’s silk, you know.” She turned with a smile meant to impress the women in this room.

  “Then why am I here?” Aria pointed to the wall with one hand and waved her small sketch pad in the other.

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Dixon, but my son gets ideas sometimes. And while I think they are cute, he has to realize he isn’t eight anymore,” she said.

  I gritted my teeth as she walked over to me, adjusting the collar on the blue button-up shirt I put on after everyone came into my bedroom.

  “That’s right, Mother, I’m a grown man so I expect to be able to make a decision about my home without you or anyone taking over.” I pushed her hands away.

  Her eyes widened and she opened her mouth. I braced myself for the rainstorm of insults that always came. I knew she hated me standing up for myself. My mother still believed when we were in front of company I was expected to speak when spoken to and to do as I was told.

  Despite the fact that every time I stood up for myself, ever since I was a kid, my mother ripped me apart, I did it anyway.

  She’s talented. Like Aria with her artwork, my mother knew how to find your soul with her words and shake it until it was nothing more than a regret-filled mess.

  But this time was different. These weren’t her friends, these were people I knew. People who came here specifically to see me, not her. I refused to let her hurt them or control them like she did everyone else in her life.

  When she finally spoke, I was surprised by her words. What she said was strange, even for her.

  “Alexander, you are right. It’s time I let you spread your wings. What harm could come from this artist,” she waved toward Aria but kept her eyes on me, “painting a wall? I’m sure whatever you two come up with will be lovely. I trust you, Alexander.”

  My mother patted my shoulder before heading toward the door. As she was about to turn toward the hall she turned back. “Ms. Dixon. I will have my lawyers fax over the lease so you can find out what is not allowed to be done to the walls of this place.”

  I stared at the door long after my mother disappeared.

  “Are you okay, Alex?” Aria’s voice and her light touch on my arm broke me from my shock. A shiver ran up my body and I turned to stare at her beautiful red lips.

  “She trusts me. You both heard her, right? She said she trusted me,” I said as I pointed to the empty doorframe.

  “Yes, I heard it,” Tiffany said.

  “Of course. Why wouldn’t she trust you?” Aria said before she chuckled and shook her head.

  Because my mother hated me.

  “Yes. Why wouldn’t she trust me?” I tried to laugh too but it was a struggle.

  “Mr. Hawthorne.” Tiffany took the sketch pad out of Aria’s hand and brought it to me. “Aria has come up with many designs this morning. Did you want to use any of them or do something else?”

  I flipped through the pages and loved every single idea she had. There was one thing she drew that caught my eye but I wanted to change it slightly.

  I glanced up to find two pair of eyes filled with anticipation staring at me.

  “How about we discuss this over food? It’s already noon.”

  “Actually, I have to go and get back to the hospital. I didn’t realize it was already lunchtime.” Tiffany gathered her coat from the bed.

  “Which hospital?” I asked.

  Aria glanced at Tiffany. They both went quiet and I wondered if I had said something wrong.

  “The Children’s Hospital just off of Michigan Avenue,” Tiffany said as she shrugged on her thick black coat.

  I smiled. “That’s interesting you work there because I donate to them every year.”

  “Oh, I don’t work there. My son is a patient.”

  Now I knew why they were silent. I felt terrible assuming she worked there.

  “Forgive me. I didn’t realize you had a son.” I walked over to Tiffany.

  “It’s all right.” She glanced up at me. Her deep brown eyes seemed to radiate sadness. It made me fear why he was in the hospital.

  I recognized that pain in her eyes. It’s the same thing I saw in my mother’s eyes. Not so much anymore, but when I was young there were days she would lay in bed crying. I hated to see her like that but what was worse was how that sadness turned to hate.

  I cupped Tiffany’s hand between both of mine. “I’m sorry he has to be in there. I don’t know him and I have only just met you, but I can tell you love him very much.”

  She nodded, biting her lip. Tiffany lowered her head and I noticed a tear falling to the floor.

  “No matter what happens, Tiffany. Whether your boy walks out of that hospital tomorrow or never does, know that the absolute best thing in the world for him is your love.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Hawthorne,” Tiffany said as she raised her head, tears streaming down her cheeks.

  “Please, call me Alex.”

  She nodded and gave me a hug. “Thank you, Alex. I’m glad you are getting your mural and that you aren’t a crazy recluse,” she whispered before letting me go.

  I needed to look into finding a good PR comp
any. Does everyone assume I’m crazy?

  Once Tiffany left, I turned to find Aria staring at me. The way her arms were folded over her chest and her eyelids narrowed I thought she might be upset with me.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “Maybe you want to elaborate so I can understand what is upsetting you.”

  Aria shook her head and walked over to me. I noticed how her purple sweater seemed to cling to her curves. What I really focused on were her tits. I wondered if she was even wearing a bra. I knew I shouldn’t be thinking that, but I kept imagining lifting that piece of cashmere and discovering only smooth skin underneath.

  “Tiffany is a good person. She cares about her son very much, and I think it’s shitty what you want to do with her.”

  “Where is this coming from?”

  Did I say something I shouldn’t have? Again?

  “You know exactly what I am talking about, Mr. Hawthorne.” Aria stuck her finger into my chest.

  “No, I really don’t, Aria. And stop calling me Mr. Hawthorne. Mr. Hawthorne was my father. I asked you to call me Alex.”

  She pushed her finger deeper into my chest and it was starting to hurt. “Do you always take advantage of women in pain? Don’t think I haven’t heard about you. About what happened to that young mother and her baby.”

  Not this again. Why was it when the press did find out something about me they only focused on the negative?

  “You shouldn’t believe everything you read.” I grabbed her finger to pull it away from my chest, but I hadn’t let go.

  “I didn’t, Alex. But from what I just witnessed, I’m starting to wonder if the article I read was right.”

  I never cared about what anyone said about me or the lies they spread about my family. Ridiculous lies about my parents and even more crazy ones about me. It never hurt before because my mom and dad agreed on only one thing while I was growing up and that was that the press said anything to get people to buy their papers or watch their news show. Journalists were never to be trusted.

  If both my parents agreed on something, then it must be true because they never agreed on anything.

  “If you believe that, Aria, then you might as well believe all the other crazy things the papers have said about my family. Like how my mother has a secret love child with my uncle, and my grandfather got angry and had his own son killed. Or, maybe the one where I have a twin out there that I don’t know about. And the best one of all. The one where my mother had my father killed and is planning to take over the government. If Shakespeare were alive, he’d love to write a play based on those wild tales.”

  She held up her hands but kept her eyes on the ground. “Look, I get it—”

  “No, Aria, you really don’t get it. I may not know what it’s like to struggle to pay bills or worry if I have enough money to eat or pay rent or put gas in the car to get to work. I’m lucky in life. Real lucky, but it doesn’t mean I haven’t gone through things in life.”

  I took a breath and grabbed her shoulders, forcing Aria to look at me. “And it doesn’t mean I’m some cold, spoiled monster ready to take a young mother in with her small child, only to have them booted from the country.”

  SEVEN

  Aria

  “Firm and long, just how I like it,” I said as I pushed it past my lips. “Mmm. It’s sweet too. Uh, it’s dripping. Better lick that up.” My tongue flicked at the tip to draw the sweet cream into my mouth.

  I sucked on the cannoli as I stared at Alex. He wouldn’t look at me. For the past fifteen minutes, we had been eating in his huge dining room. Me on one end of a massive, rectangular, dark wooden table and him at the other.

  Alex had his head down, staring at his food as he ate. I pulled the pastry out of my mouth and placed it back on the white china dessert plate.

  “I’m sorry, Alex. There, are you happy? That’s the third time I had to apologize for misjudging you.”

  He lifted his head. “Here’s an idea, Aria, why don’t you stop judging people? Maybe, and I get this may be a novel concept for you, but maybe take the time to get to know them.”

  I clenched my jaw, pissed at him. Here I was trying to make amends and he had to rub my nose in it.

  “Some of us don’t have the luxury of getting to know men. Some of us have to do what we can to protect the people we love before we get to know strangers,” I said and immediately wish I hadn’t.

  Alex raised his head even farther, sitting at his full height. I surprised him. I didn’t mean to, but he seemed to know how to push my buttons.

  I wish he had accepted my apology and moved on, or just kicked me out. Anything but the curious eyes of a recluse.

  “Why would getting to know someone be a luxury? You appear to have friends, Aria. Tiffany and those two women from a few weeks ago, Morgana and Evaleen. You must have taken the time to get to know them?”

  I took a bite of the cannoli. No point in pretending to give it a blow job anymore to get Alex’s attention. I got it, and now I wish he would stare at his food again.

  “That’s different,” I said after I swallowed the dessert.

  “How is that different? Are they robots? Do they not count as people?”

  Taking the napkin, I wiped my mouth before leaning back against the chair.

  “What about you, Alex? Or should I call you Mr. Recluse?”

  Alex pushed back his chair, got up, and walked over. I tried not to stare at his very worn and very fitted sweat pants but the closer he got, the more I focused on what I shouldn’t.

  My eyes became level with his as he sat in the seat next to me. “I wasn’t talking about me. I was asking about you.”

  “If you get to ask about me, then I should get to ask about you.” I raised my eyebrow.

  The corner of his lip ticked up and he nodded. “On one condition.”

  “You have to take your clothes off,” I said.

  “What? No.”

  “I have to take my clothes off?”

  “No. That’s not what . . . uh, not unless . . . I mean no,” he said as his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down his neck.

  “We both have to take off—”

  “Aria, there will be no nakedness.” Alex waved his hands at me.

  “Fine, but this sounds kind of boring to me.” I rolled my eyes.

  “You were the one to suggest the questions to begin with.”

  I shrugged. “I figured you would turn it into a drinking game that required us to remove a piece of clothing for every question answered, or a non-drinking game that required us to remove a piece of clothing for every question.”

  “You sure do like to get naked.” He laughed and it was the sexiest thing in the world.

  He had laughed a few times since I met him, but they weren’t intense belly laughs—the kind that came from deep within your soul. That was what he was doing now and it was mesmerizing.

  “Only in front of men.”

  His laughter stopped. But it was how he stared at me that caused my smile to fade too. Those hypnotic eyes drifted to my lips and stayed. They sat so long glued to some imaginary string attached to my mouth that it wasn’t until Bradley entered the room that Alex moved.

  “Alex, a fax came from your mother.”

  He glanced up as Bradley walked over. Bradley’s eyes bounced between us and I couldn’t tell if he was surprised to see me here with Alex or worried.

  “Yes, the lease. Here you go, Aria. You can read the bylaws about what is permissible here.” Alex slid the paperwork over to me. When my fingers grazed his as I took the document, I was caught off guard. The spark shot up my arm and straight to my mouth, causing me to gasp.

  “Alex, can I have a word with you?” Bradley said while staring at me.

  “Of course. I’ll be right back, Aria.” Alex gave me a soft smile before he stood and walked off.

  Once the two men left the room, I wiped my hands and lips with the cloth napkin from my cannoli show. The food
we had for lunch was delicious. I figured Alex would order pizza but when he told me he had a personal chef, I almost swooned like a Victorian woman who wore her corset too tight and was prone to fainting.

  I had to take advantage of that. When it came to food, I was a whore. There’s no food that I would turn down. I had no shame as to what went into my mouth—from a cheap, street corner dirty-water dog to a tarted up steak at a classy restaurant, I didn’t discriminate.

  Sitting back against the surprisingly comfortable wooden chairs I massaged my belly as if it contained a precious baby and not a three-course meal. After reflecting wistfully at the empty plates, I grabbed the lease and perused it while Alex was out of the room.

  Most of it was standard contract jargon that I was familiar with. I may only be an artist but my father was a lawyer. When my sister and I were young, we would play in his home office and he gave us old contracts to entertain ourselves. After a while we asked him what certain words or phrases would mean. I retained a lot of what he told me.

  I also remember a lot of the terrible things he showed me.

  I stopped when I noticed one paragraph in particular. It made me wonder about Mrs. Hawthorne’s words from earlier. But before I could ponder more, Alex came back into the room. He reached a hand toward me.

  “My mother wanted my lawyer to look at the lease. I wasn’t meant to hand it off to you, Aria. Sorry.”

  I reluctantly lifted the contract and placed it into Alex’s hand. “But she told me to look at it so I knew what not to do to the walls.”

  Alex glanced down at the papers in his hand. “That’s my mom for you. She will tell you anything you want to hear to your face, but make everyone else force you to do what she really wants. Bradley just got confused when he handed over the lease.”

  He was about to walk away when I stopped him. “Do you own this building?”

  Alex turned back to face me and lifted his arm to rest on the doorframe. The fabric of his shirt tightened around his bicep and I couldn’t keep my eyes off it.

  “No, actually, my mother owns the building. My mother is the one with all the money. When my father died twenty years ago, she got the bulk of his estate and money. That’s why I can’t do anything without her approval.”