“Hey, I’m not judging you. In fact, you noticing an attractive female makes me worry about you less.”
“I notice attractive women. I am human.”
“Could’ve fooled me. When was the last time you had a date?”
I felt anger rising inside of me, the question that made me the most defensive. Abel damn well knew this, too.
“I don’t need or want to date. My whole life is wrapped up in that little girl,” I said, pointing to the living room. “Now, did you really come over here to give me a hard time about my lack of a love life?”
He brushed his hands off over the table. “No. I came here because I need you to fire one of the cocktail servers.”
“Abel,” I said slowly. “I’ve told you to talk to Marshall, who is your boss, about anything to do with the bar.”
“Yeah, but you’re the owner. Plus, you’re my brother.”
“Why would I fire…? Wait…what did you do?”
“Okay. You don’t have to fire her. Can’t you move her to another one of your places?”
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. “What did you do?”
His head dropped, and he stared at the floor for a moment before cautiously looking up at me. He had done the same thing ever since he was a kid. I knew I’d be saving his ass for something because that was what I always did.
“I didn’t know she was married,” he whispered. “Now she’s gotten all clingy and weird.”
“Was this the one you had a sleepover with?” I asked, making quotation marks with my fingers.
“Yeah. But that was only because she took the breakup really hard.”
I ran my hands through my hair and stopped myself from screaming at him. “When are you going to grow the hell up?”
He shrugged. “Any day now. So?”
“I’ll talk to Marshall later, but I swear to hell if you so much as look at a coworker too long, I will kick your ass from here to Milwaukee.”
He looked at his watch before standing. “Thanks. I gotta go. See you later, squirt,” he shouted to Delilah.
“I’ll be thinking of you when she’s bouncing off the walls in an hour from the early morning sugar rush,” I said, punching him in the arm.
I was following him to the front door when he stopped and turned to me. “Aaron? A little piece of friendly advice?”
“What?”
“Lighten up. Life is too short to worry about a little sugar.”
Chapter Three
CALLIE—
I’m so happy for you, Callie,” Evelyn said. “I’m going to miss you something awful, though.”
Candlelight reflected off the floor-to-ceiling windows of the cocktail lounge where we were celebrating my new job on Saturday night, my first Saturday night off in ages. Everything, from the crystal glasses to my smile, sparkled.
She lifted her champagne glass as I raised mine. We clicked our glasses together and took a sip. “Thanks,” I said. “I wish you’d reconsider letting me help out with the rent for a little while longer.”
“It’s no biggie,” she replied waving her hand around in dismissal. “We agreed already anyway. I don’t want to hear another word about it from you.”
“It still makes me feel bad, though,” I said. “You’ve always picked up my slack.”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s not now, or was it then, slack. You’re my best friend, and if I needed any help, of any kind, I know you’d do it for me.”
I shrugged my shoulders knowing she was right. I would do anything for her. It didn’t make my situation any easier to swallow. Evelyn was everything I was not—successful career, gorgeous, and a personality that lit up a room. I was basic, a natural beauty I supposed, who had worked so hard, for so long, that there were many days I couldn’t believe I was only twenty-four.
Evelyn picked up one of the oysters from the plate in front of us. She tilted her head back and let it slide in. “So, I heard you talking in your sleep this morning. I probably should’ve warned you Aaron was a looker.”
And she also knew the most perfect moment to change the subject.
Heat warmed my face, but I tried to hide it by digging through my purse.
“Are you blushing?” she asked.
I took a compact out and flipped it open. “No.”
“Aha.”
“What?” I snapped.
“You’re full of shit, and I can hear everything you say in your sleep.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I heard you mid-dream begging him to give it to you this morning. You want him—you know it, and you should stop pretending like you don’t.”
“You’re such a liar.”
“No, I’m not. I heard every word.”
“I can’t believe that you think that you heard—”
Wait.
Did I?
I covered my mouth in shock when it all began to come back to me. Yes. There was a dream. I was in an unfamiliar room when he’d quietly snuck in. Words were exchanged briefly before he crawled up the bed, began placing kisses up my leg and thigh. Just before he dipped his head down to lick his tongue between my legs, he’d asked for reassurance. I didn’t reassure him. I begged him for it.
I shook my head out of my dream recollection before rolling my eyes. “Okay, so he’s attractive for an older guy, but he’s going to be my boss. I’ll be living with him, and thinking about what you’re insinuating is inappropriate and unprofessional,” I said, tossing my compact back in my purse.
“He’s not that much older.”
“Again. Inappropriate and unprofessional.”
“Whatever,” she said with a snort.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
She wiped her mouth with a napkin and took a sip of her champagne. “You need to loosen up a bit.”
“Not loose enough to sleep with the guy I work for and live with, Blondie.”
She picked up another oyster. “Who said sleep with?” She swallowed the oyster and waved her hand around. “You’re right, though. It’s totally wrong.”
“I could never…I would never…do…things like that with my boss,” I stuttered. “I mean, he’s attractive, and maybe if he wasn’t my boss, I’d consider…”
We were silent for a few minutes when our waiter came back to us. “Would you like another round, ladies?” he asked.
“Yes,” we replied in unison.
She put her hand on mine. “You’ve had two boyfriends, neither of which lasted longer than six months. You have slept with, what, four guys? The last of which was that dude you brought home from Lounge and that place has been closed for two years. There’s nothing wrong with wanting. It’s human nature.”
She was right. I was a healthy, red-blooded, twenty-four-year-old woman who had wants and desires. There was nothing wrong with that.
Nothing at all.
Right?
Right.
It was only wrong if I acted on it, if I crossed a professional, moral line, and I had no intentions of doing that. Plus, this was only assuming he had any interest to begin with. I was certain Aaron Matthews’s taste in women leaned more toward the sophisticated, refined side. At the very least, someone older.
The next morning, I nursed a massive hangover and tried to pack up my room. I was grateful Evelyn said it was okay for me to leave all my bedroom furniture so I wouldn’t have to worry about it. All I had to do was pack up my clothes and other personal items. I was putting some books in boxes when I heard my cell phone ringing in the kitchen.
I raced into the kitchen and picked up my phone, not stopping to check the caller ID before answering. “Hello?”
“Hi, Calliope, it’s Aaron Matthews.”
With the sound of his voice, I felt butterflies, and perhaps even a rhinoceros, tumble around in my stomach.
“Hi, Aaron. How are you?” I asked as calmly as possible.
“Wonderful. I got your room all ready today. It was a bare room with a bed, so Delilah
and I went to Bloomingdale’s and picked out bedding and linens and such. She thought you’d like Cinderella bedding, but I convinced her otherwise.”
“Aw. How cute.”
“Well, I’m sure you’re really busy getting ready for the move, but I was wondering if you’d like to stop by later and meet Delilah before you move in on Wednesday? I thought it might be a little less awkward for her and…”
“Of course,” I said interrupting him. “I think that’s a great idea.”
“Great. Would you like to come for dinner?”
“Absolutely. What time works for you two?” I asked.
“How about six?”
“That’s perfect.”
“Sounds good, we’ll see you then.”
We said our good-byes just as Evelyn walked in.
I smiled. “Dinner at six with the new boss and his daughter. What do you wear for such an occasion?”
* * *
There was no parking in front of Aaron’s house so I had to park a couple blocks away. I didn’t mind, since it gave me a chance to shake off the nerves I had. Not only was having dinner with your new boss cause for anxiety, but also meeting the little girl who I’d be responsible for raised it to an entirely new level.
The lake breeze blew my hair around my face. My auburn hair was usually in some messy bun piled on top of my head, but for the night, it was lying in long, soft waves between my shoulders. I’d put on some mascara and lip gloss, which was more than I normally wore. Something told me that once I moved in, I was going to be adding in extra time to my morning routine.
Stop. He’s your boss. A little girl is depending on you.
As I approached the house, I saw Aaron sitting on a small bench outside his front door. Chicago weather was unpredictable at best, but a temperature reaching into the fifties with April only days away was a nice welcome after a cold winter. I watched him for a moment as he was completely engrossed in the book he was reading.
“DADDYYYYY!”
A little girl, with white-blond, curly hair, jumped up from the side of the house, waving a Barbie around her head.
She handed him the Barbie, and as I approached them, they were carefully looking it over. Aaron’s eyebrows were furrowed in concentration as he tried to adjust Barbie’s clothes.
“But Daddy, it has to fit her. If it doesn’t, her boobies will show…see,” the little girl said, pointing to Barbie’s exposed breasts. She sat down next to him, laying her head on his shoulder.
“I’m trying, Delilah, but this shirt is too small for her,” he replied, trying to work a hot-pink tube top over Barbie’s massive boobs. “Why don’t you look in your case for a different shirt for her?”
I laughed and he looked up. “Oh, hi,” he said, embarrassed. “We were just trying to…well…Barbie needed a more…a bigger…and…”
The fact he was trying to explain why he was dressing a Barbie doll, as he turned several shades of red, was enough to make me continue laughing. It was adorable.
I waved my hand while trying to compose myself. “It’s fine. No need to explain.”
He shoved the Barbie back at Delilah and stood up, smoothing his hands over his jeans. “It’s nice to see you again.”
“You, too,” I said. I walked over to the bench and knelt down. “You must be Delilah.”
She nodded while brushing her hair out of her face. She was beautiful, with blond hair and the most perfect curled ringlets pinned up on one side with a barrette. With blue eyes that matched her father’s, she looked like a doll.
“Delilah,” Aaron said. “This is Callie. She’s the one I’ve been telling you about.”
“Hi,” she said softly, reaching for her daddy’s hand. “Are you going to live with us?”
“I sure am.” I sat down next to her on the bench. “I’m going to help out your daddy, and we’ll get to do lots of fun things. What are your most favorite things to do?”
She bit down on her lower lip in concentration. “I like to play Barbie, and Daddy got me the Barbie Dreamhouse when I was brave when I had my tonsils out.”
“Wow. I love Barbie’s Dreamhouse. Tell me what else do you like to do?”
“I like to color and paint and go to the library.”
I smiled at her. “Well, those are all my most favorite things, too, especially the library.”
“Daddy?”
“Yes, sweetheart,” he answered.
“Can we eat the lasagna now?”
He laughed. “Yes, now that Callie’s here, we can eat. Make sure you have your Barbie and all her clothes.”
We entered the house, and Delilah ran in ahead of us down the hall. The house smelled amazing, of garlic and tomatoes.
“It smells wonderful in here,” I said, slipping off my coat. I laid it down on a maroon upholstered chair next to the front door.
“Come on. Let me show you the kitchen.” I followed him down the hallway until the left side flowed into a kitchen fit for a chef.
“Wow,” I gasped. “This is…incredible.” Dark granite countertops surrounded stainless steel Viking appliances. Various copper pots and pans hung from a wire rack above the island.
“Thank you,” he said as he went over to the stove. “I don’t use it nearly enough, but my ex-wife liked to bake a lot so…”
He trailed off as he opened the oven and pulled out the lasagna. I walked over and stood next to him, eyeing the pan. “And you made this?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Delilah, come eat,” he shouted. “Please, Callie, sit down.”
I made my way to the beautifully set table, which was adjacent to the kitchen, and sat down. Table runner and chargers complemented the place settings. Water glasses were filled with sparkling water as lemon slices floated in the middle. A large vase of lilies sat in the middle of the table.
Delilah came running, a piece of white construction paper in her hand.
She plopped down in the seat next to me. “This is for you,” she said, handing me the paper.
“You made this for me?” I asked. “It’s awesome! I love the house and the sun and the pretty rainbow. Thank you.”
Aaron set a plate down in front of me and then Delilah. “And I’ve been told to swear that she did it all by herself. No help from me.”
“I did,” she said, nodding. She picked up her fork and carefully stabbed a piece of lasagna that Aaron had cut into small squares for her.
I leaned over and looked at her in the eye. “You know what?”
“Mmm-hmm,” she said with her mouth full.
“This is the best picture anyone has ever colored for me.”
She was too involved with her lasagna to show much emotion, but what she didn’t express, her dad more than made up for. Aaron stood, midstep, a plate in his hand, staring at us. A slow smile lifted his lips as he took in a deep sigh, letting it out quietly as I saw his shoulders visibly relax.
“Something to drink, Callie?” he asked, returning to his step.
“The water you put out is fine. Thank you,” I said.
He sat in the empty seat with his plate. “So,” he said, placing his napkin in his lap. “I thought we’d go over a few things. I know you don’t technically start until Wednesday, and I won’t be out of the house until Monday, but why not get a few things out of the way now, right?”
“Absolutely.”
“She’s usually up by seven in the morning,” he said. “Bedtime is at eight. If it’s any later than that, she’s a bear the next day.”
He paused, slicing into his lasagna and bringing it to his mouth. I watched his lips, the way they wrapped around the fork before pulling it out of his mouth. It took me a few moments to realize I was staring while I was locked in on my utensil porn. The bite of lasagna I tried to swallow lodged in my throat when it occurred to me utensil porn was probably a real thing.
“Does everything taste okay?” Aaron asked. His face frowned as his eyes glanced at my plate.
“Oh, it’s delicious,” I said, scoo
ping up a cheesy piece. “I love all the basil in it.”
“We got it at Eataly,” Delilah said.
Aaron laughed and placed his fork next to the store-bought lasagna. “And as you’ve learned,” he said, his cheeks red with embarrassment, “she can’t keep a secret worth anything.”
“Most four-year-olds can’t,” I said. “Furthermore, I love Eataly. You made a good call.”
Delilah wiped the back of her hand across her marinara-covered lips. “We got chocolate pies for dessert. Three of them.”
“Delilah,” Aaron said. “Use your napkin, please. And it isn’t exactly three chocolate pies. Crostatina.”
“Crostatina?” I asked.
He took a sip from his water glass. “They’re these little chocolate-filled tartes. Nutella, actually.”
How dare he. He was playing dirty. Real dirty. Not only was he attractive, but he was also smart, successful, and a Nutella buyer. Was there no end to his perfection?
Yes, there was. It ended in the same place it began. The place where he was my boss and any impure thoughts about him, Nutella, or a combination of the two needed to be removed from my brain.
“Delilah, have you been to the Field Museum?” I asked.
She nodded. “They have dinosaurs there!”
“I know,” I said. “Would you like to go there with me sometime? I haven’t seen Sue the T. rex in a long time.”
Aaron’s eyes moved between Delilah and me as a slow smile spread across his face.
“Can I, Daddy?” she asked bouncing in her seat.
His gazed stopped on me. “Of course you can,” he said.
* * *
“So good,” I said after I swallowed the last bite of the Nutella-filled dessert.
A small drop of chocolate remained on the plate, and I resisted the urge to use my finger to scoop it up.
“Glad you enjoyed it,” he said, standing and gathering his plate.
“Can I be done?” Delilah asked.
“Yes,” Aaron said.
She ran from the table as I stood and picked up my own plate and glass.
“Let me help you,” I said.
So Twisted Page 3
