“That’s not necessary. You’re still our guest tonight. And even when you’re not, you aren’t responsible for cleaning up after us. We all do our share, okay?”
“I don’t mind,” I said, following him into the kitchen. “I prefer to always pull my weight.”
I placed my things in the sink and went back to the table to clean up the rest. Standing in front of the dirty dishes, I turned on the warm water and grabbed a sponge. He came up next to me, placing the last of the glasses under the running water.
“I rinse, and you load the dishwasher?” I asked.
He didn’t answer me. Instead, he looked at me, tilting his head like he was contemplating something. I had no choice but to stare back. His proximity was close, almost too close, and I could smell his soap, a clean scent, along with a hint of his aftershave. He must’ve shaved earlier in the day because stubble was apparent across his jawline.
He shook his head and shut his eyes for a moment. “Yeah. Okay,” he said. “Sorry. I was going to say—”
Delilah skipped back in carrying a large assortment of Play-Doh in a clear bag.
She held it up to me. “Do you like Play-Doh?”
“I love Play-Doh,” I said. “Why don’t I finish helping your daddy clean up, and then we’ll play.”
“It’s okay. You go on,” Aaron said, shutting off the faucet.
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.”
“Okay,” I said. “Delilah, let’s go sit down at the table and do it there.”
She ran over to the table and began to carefully take out all the different colors and accessories. I sat down next to her. “What should we make?” I asked her.
“Flowers?”
“Flowers it is.”
We sat at the table and rolled out different colored Play-Doh and used her little plastic cutters to make flowers. Aaron was busy cleaning up, but every now and then, I felt his eyes on me. When I’d turn to look at him, he would be staring at us. At one point he noticed I saw him, and his grin grew.
And it was the sexiest smile I had ever seen.
It was handsomeness and joy mixed with something endearing. My skin tingled and a pit in my stomach formed. It wasn’t from nerves. It was from wanting something I knew I wasn’t going to get.
After a while, Delilah started to yawn, a sure sign that bedtime was coming soon. Aaron walked over and stood behind his daughter. He kissed the top of her head, brushing her hair back. “It’s almost time for bed, sweetheart, and Callie needs to get home. I think we’ve kept her long enough.”
“I had a lot of fun with you, Delilah,” I said.
“Are you going away now?” Delilah asked.
“Yes, but I’ll be back soon, okay?”
She yawned and nodded her head.
“Let’s clean this up and next time I’m over we can play some more.”
By the time we packed up all the Play-Doh and cutters, she could barely keep her eyes open.
Aaron picked her up and carried her upstairs. After a few minutes, he came back down, and when he did, I was waiting in the hallway, at the bottom of the staircase.
“Is she okay?” I asked.
He laughed. “She’s more than okay, she’s out cold. I think the excitement really wore her out. I have to say, she seems quite taken with you, as am I.”
His smile faded when he realized what he’d said, his eyes shifting from me to a large, ornate wall mirror hanging in the hallway. I’d expected embarrassment on my part, but there was none. I knew he didn’t mean it the way it came out, but it was his reaction, the way he avoided my eyes that made me feel oddly vindicated. I wasn’t the only one figuring things out.
But I needed to end his misery.
“Thank you for the amazing dinner,” I said, putting on my coat. “I’ll see you Wednesday, but if you need anything before then, just give me a call.”
“Well…thank you…for coming.”
I racked my brain trying to come up with something else to say, but the word coming kept replaying in my mind. There wasn’t anything he said or did that I didn’t automatically turn into something sexual.
“So,” he said. He shifted on his feet awkwardly. “See you then?”
And there was nothing I said or did that didn’t make me come off as a complete ass.
I nodded. “Yes. See you then. Good night.”
With quick steps, I headed down the hallway and threw open the front door. I turned and gave him a quick wave as I bolted out the door.
I didn’t turn around or look anywhere until I was closer to the neighbor’s house than his. Once I did, I saw him standing tense in front of the large bay window, rubbing his two hands together.
I needed to get a grip. I had until Wednesday, less than three days, before I moved in. Three days to get myself in check before we lived together.
Live together.
I barely remembered the drive home; my mind clouded with images of his face…his mouth…his body. All I could hear was the sound of his voice.
I entered a quiet apartment, calling out for Evelyn with no response. I set my coat and purse on the table when I noticed the light in my room was on. Strange, I never left it on when I was out.
I crossed the room to turn it off, but as soon as I saw what was on my bed, I covered my mouth to stifle a scream. My bed was covered with several open Victoria’s Secret boxes, cotton shorts with matching tanks, and assorted other pajamas. I got closer to the bed, looking over all the beautiful things. There was an envelope in the middle. I opened it.
I thought you could use some nightwear instead of the ratty T-shirts and sweats you usually wear. Plus, you’re going to be living with a man now. You should dress appropriately.
Xo-Evelyn
That girl. She was trying to stir up all sorts of trouble.
Chapter Four
AARON—
Well, look who the fuck is here,” Marshall, my best friend, shouted from behind the bar. “What the hell are you doing here?”
I slid into the leather high-back barstool in front of him. “Do I need an excuse to visit my own bar?”
WET was one of Chicago’s most elite cocktail lounges, a speakeasy where the famous and successful came for privacy. It was one of my most profitable business endeavors to date.
“No, you don’t need an excuse. You just don’t ever do it,” he said. “Scotch?”
I nodded. “Is Abel around?”
I watched as he poured two fingers of Macallan 18 into a faceted whiskey glass.
“And here I was thinking it was only my pretty face you wanted to see,” he said.
He slid the glass across to me, and I brought it to my lips, letting the familiar burn run down the back of my throat. “To be honest, I’m not sure why I’m here. I think I just needed a breather.”
“Oh yeah? Everything okay?”
“Yeah. It’s good,” I said, setting my drink down. I stared at the beveled edges of the glass, my thoughts running together like the colors reflecting off it from the candlelight.
Marshall leaned in. “You sure, man? Is Delilah okay?”
“Yes. She’s perfect.” I lifted my glass to take another sip. “Just a lot on my mind. I hired a nanny finally. She starts in two days.”
His eyebrows lifted. “Is that so? She hot?”
“What is it with you and Abel? Can you think of anything besides your dicks?”
He pushed himself off the bar, retrieving a stack of napkins under it. “I don’t think so. If I think of anything besides my dick, I’ll let you know,” he said with a smirk.
He twisted the napkins between his palms, fanning them out in a neat pile, before placing them atop the bar. It seemed like such a small touch, but those touches were what made or broke a business. Marshall wasn’t just a bar manager. He was the one I trusted with the whole operation. In fact, I’d trust him with anything in my life. He’s been through it all with me.
He was there the day I met Lexie, my ex-wife, at Nor
th Avenue Beach during one of the most intense heat waves ever recorded in Chicago.
And he was there the day I came home with a not even one-year-old Delilah to find Lexie gone. She wanted out of it all. The marriage and motherhood.
“Seriously, though, man,” Marshall said interrupting my thoughts. “It’s nice to see you finally getting a hand around the house. You need to start living again.”
“I know, but it isn’t like I haven’t been living. I’ve had other responsibilities.”
“No doubt. You’ve made that little beauty your life. So much so that I think you forgot about your own.”
I shrugged. I knew he was right. He was always right. Everyone—him, Abel, my parents—always told me the same thing. It didn’t matter, though. Everything inside me broke when Lexie left, and the only choice I had was to put myself back together for my daughter.
Marshall wiped up a small puddle of booze from the bar before tossing the rag to the side. “I know you don’t need to hear all this shit again, but Lexie was never it. She gave you Delilah and a mountain of grief. That’s all. You’ve let her run the show for years even after she’s been gone. Time to make peace.”
Easier said than done, but I knew I needed to try.
After I finished my drink, I headed home. After taking care of the babysitter, I ascended the stairs and down the hallway to Delilah’s room. I carefully cracked the door open before slipping inside.
My angel.
I knelt down on the floor next to her, brushing her tiny curls back so I can see her first. My chin rested on a knit blanket she slept with every night that my mom had made for her.
“How could she have left you?” I whispered.
I would never understand it. I was long over any love lost between Lexie and me. I wasn’t even sure if much was there to begin with, but the devastation over how she left was still raw.
I gave Delilah a kiss on her forehead before sneaking out of her room. After retreating back downstairs, I paused, knowing what was coming.
It was always the time it came crashing down around me like shards of broken glass, stinging my skin and catching my breath.
The quiet.
The isolation.
All of it, on so many nights, was so excruciatingly palpable it was like I was being suffocated.
But for the first time in years, the fog that surrounded me lifted slightly.
The silence.
The solitude.
It was different.
Not since Lexie left had such a breath of fresh air blown through my home and temporarily eased my loneliness like it had when Callie was here.
I was left wondering, though: Was it because there was someone, anyone, who was going to be living in the house to have an adult conversation with? Or was it because it was Callie?
I didn’t know if it mattered.
I walked into my office and flicked on the light. Papers were scattered across the large mahogany desk, but what I was looking for was hidden in a flat, silver safe in one of the drawers. I sat in my oversized leather chair and retrieved the safe from the bottom drawer. A place for important documents, the safe was also where I kept memories of my past life and reminders of what I was doing in my current life.
I lifted various things out, passports and financial papers, making my way to the plain brown manila envelope at the bottom, and all the memories of our first meeting came flooding back.
* * *
It’s exactly what the weather forecaster said. A scorcher. The late morning sun beat down on my tan skin, but the heat only fueled my pursuit of a win.
“Ready, Matthews?” Marshall shouts, holding the volleyball in place to serve.
One more point for the win.
My feet push deep into the sand and I crouch down. “Go for it,” I say
Marshall’s serve is fast and hard as it flies over the net to our opponents, but they play back harder. After a bump and set, the dude closest to the net spikes it over. The tips of my fingers push it back over to the empty space between the guys. One dives for it, but misses. The ball lands in the sand. We win.
“Yes!” I say.
Marshall runs over, high-fiving me. “That was perfect, man.”
Our celebration is interrupted by a group of four girls, spread out on large beach towels with tanning-oiled bodies, cheering for us from the sidelines. One, with long platinum blond hair, a tight body, and a smile brighter than the sun, catches my eye immediately. I think the feeling is mutual, but as soon as I wink at her, she rolls her eyes at me. Lucky for her, I don’t give up easy, especially when I see something I want.
“I’ll be back in a few,” I say to Marshall.
“Or maybe not,” he replies.
He knows me well. It’s why he’s my second-in-command at the bar, WET, I opened recently. I hear him chuckle as I jog over to the leggy blond.
“Afternoon, ladies,” I say, nodding my head. “I think your presence was our good luck charm.”
The brunette on the end slides her sunglasses down her nose. “Our pleasure. Watching you guys, especially your friend, is the best view we’ve had all day.”
I look behind me to spot Marshall. “Hey,” I shout, waving him over. “Come meet my new friends.”
I turn my attention to the one I’m interested in and flash her my best, sure-to-get-in-her-pants smile. “Hi there.”
She raises her eyebrows, looking me up and down. “Hi.”
“Hot enough for you?” I ask, stretching my arms above my head.
She shrugs. “I can take hotter.”
“Can you?”
I bite down on my lower lip and move to sit down next to her.
“Don’t waste your time, lover boy,” she says, laughing. “Those lines and the pretty boy face don’t do shit for me.”
Ouch.
“If my face or lines don’t do it for you, what would?” I ask.
She shields her eyes from the sun to look at me. “Offer to buy me a drink. That’s a good start.”
I nod. “That I can do. The vodka lemonades at Castaways might put me in an even better position.”
She stands and brushes off some sand that made its way onto her towel. Her tight stomach tells me she works out. Plus, the very little left covered by her bikini leaves even less to the imagination.
“Come on, Iceman,” she says, pulling on a pair of shorts. “I’m thirsty.”
We start walking toward Castaways, the North Avenue Beach bar, as a light breeze comes off the lake.
“Why Iceman?” I ask her as we near the bar. “No Maverick?”
She pauses and turns to look at me. “Iceman was way hotter.”
She smiles and I know.
That girl is going to be in my bed by nightfall.
* * *
And she was. We started seeing each other casually at first, but then increasingly more often. With both of us consumed with our careers, the little free time we had we spent with each other.
Life always has a way of throwing you a curveball. A little more than a year after we started dating, Lexie found out she was pregnant. She took the news as if she found out she was dying. She was convinced her life, her career in finance, and the body that she loved were all finished. Everything from raging morning sickness, weight gain, and exhaustion only furthered her unhappiness.
While it wasn’t in the cards for us in the beginning, the idea of becoming a father grew on me and I began looking forward to it. I tried to share my enthusiasm with Lexie in the hopes she’d find some happiness in it as well, but she grew depressed and despondent.
I knew what I needed to do. I hoped it’d be enough.
I asked her to marry me and she said yes.
I rubbed my temples, feeling the dull pain of a headache approaching. Retrospect was a painful bitch.
I picked up the manila envelope I’d set off to the side. The top flap was worn, no adhesive left over from the many times I’d sealed it and reopened it again and again. Every time I’d say I wo
uldn’t do it again, but I always went back on my word. I pulled the stack of papers out, setting aside the small, folded sheet of stationery.
Marriage certificate
November 21, 2007
We were blissfully happy for a while, but it was short-lived.
The bigger her belly got, the more concerned I became that she wasn’t going to be able to handle being a mother. While she wasn’t careless, she acted like she wasn’t pregnant most days. There was no joy associated with anticipation of the baby. She didn’t want to discuss a nursery or all the other little things we were going to need for a baby. Even when it was time to take a birthing class, she found every reason she could to get out of it—work, sickness, and even forgetfulness. I knew what it was, though. Denial.
Delilah was born after several hours of difficult labor on May 12. The moment I saw her, my heart soared. I’d never known a love like that could exist.
Lexie did her best to adapt and put on her maternal face, but she grew impatient when she couldn’t immediately console Delilah or when she couldn’t figure out what she needed. A lot of the times, I found it easier for me to take over, but the more and more I did, the less and less Lexie did. I thought maybe it was a case of postpartum depression, but deep down I knew it was more than that. I encouraged her to seek therapy. She said she did, but to this day I wasn’t sure it ever happened.
Six weeks after giving birth, Lexie went back to work. She immersed herself in a giant caseload and worked ungodly hours. Aside from peeking in on Delilah as she slept, there was little interaction. My business was thriving as well, but I was the one who got up in the middle of the night with her, fed her, bathed her, and loved her as much as I could. I didn’t know much about being a parent, but I was certain that Delilah had to be wondering where her mama was and missed her. If it wasn’t for my family, especially my mom who watched Delilah while we worked, I don’t know what I would have done.
Not only did Lexie pull further and further away from her daughter, she distanced herself from me. She would often fall asleep on the couch, surrounded by paperwork, and avoided joining me in our bed. Our sex life, which was once exciting and fulfilling, had become nonexistent. If she chose to do anything in the house, it wasn’t with Delilah and me. It was in the kitchen, baking, until all hours.
So Twisted Page 4
