The Winemaker's Dinner: Dessert (The Winemaker's Feast)

by Rusilko, Dr. Ivan

  He pulled the door closed behind him, leaving her in the bathroom—probably not for long, but he wasn’t about to stick around to find out. Ivan thought he noticed more than a few grins and chuckles from patrons sitting near the bathroom in his rush to leave. He pushed through the doors and into the brilliant Miami morning, relishing the warmth of the sun as it beat against his face. He took a deep inhale and felt like he could breathe again. He looked around for a moment. Something was different. As he looked off toward the horizon it hit him: For the first time in a long time, his gray world appeared a bit pastel. A hint of color played just outside his field of vision. He had some thinking to do.

  Chapter 11

  “Someone Like You”

  THE MESSAGE-WAITING ICON TAUNTED IVAN over and over again. This wasn’t just any unread message. It was her—a person he hadn’t spoken to in more than six months. Granted, he’d left many of these messages unheard and unanswered since the night she shattered his world, but for some reason this message, without even being heard, had incited a riot of emotions inside him.

  The freak was still pissed that he’d cut short his encounter with the Comeandlickmypus, but Ivan now channeled all his need and tension back into the one thing that had always served him and his body best: exercise. He ran harder and faster along the path than usual, working his muscles and flooding his system with endorphins. He ran as if he were trying to outrun something, and maybe he was, but he was thankful that after a while his head and his thoughts began to feel less deadened and fuzzy.

  As he ran flat-out along the path, he noticed the sky darkening with a distant thunderstorm, and after a moment he realized he’d noticed the contrast between the brilliance overhead and the looming darkness for the first time in a long time. She’d stripped him of more than just his heart and soul. Colors, smells, sounds—his awareness and appreciation of life and the things around him had all been lost six months ago. She’d left him without his usual zest, truly destroyed. He smiled as he gripped his phone in his fist, pumping his arms as he ran, the thin cord of the ear buds bouncing against his chest and classic rock blasting in his ears. For some reason, he felt better.

  However, neither the run, the sky, or the darkening clouds overhead could distract him from the voicemail. It promised him the possibility of his life back, Ivan realized. But whether he’d be putting something to rest or breathing it back into existence, he wasn’t yet certain he wanted to know. Redoubling his efforts to force all thought from his mind, he turned up the volume and pushed himself harder. But not even AC/DC could tear him away from his spinning brain.

  A storm was coming.

  He thought back to the day of the meltdown at The Bath Club, and he could feel the despair, loneliness, and anger build with every passing moment. The thought of her in bed with Damian, the douchebag’s hands touching places he’d once held sacred, made Ivan sick to his stomach. But after a time, memories of the nights he’d spent in Jaden’s embrace and the mornings filled with laughter tempered his hatred. What was he missing? How had this happened? He missed her and found himself wishing for a way to forgive her.

  But there wasn’t a way. The betrayal was too big. It changed everything, and that’s what left him with no idea what to do. Why did he even want her anymore? It was as if some parts of him just refused to face the truth. He watched as little by little the looming storm clouds stamped out all hints of vibrancy from the sky. He’d tried to compensate for her loss by making his business his life. What had kept him busy with a constant to-do list in the planning phases now consumed as much of his time as he’d give it with the new practice up and running. There was always another opportunity to pursue, another patient to follow up on, someone’s business to court.

  The transition from aspiring, business-minded doctor to CEO of his own company had left him basking in the good life—money coming in, setting his own rules, plenty of prestige. Or at least he’d dreamed it would be the good life. He’d achieved what he’d always wanted, but much to his disappointment, he now knew no career accomplishment could fill the emptiness of his personal life. A whole new level of fancy cars, big apartments, expensive dinners, and lavish trips did nothing to cure his inner sickness. And yet he couldn’t stop. He had no idea what else to do, so he just worked harder.

  Ivan shut his eyes and indulged in the breeze that accompanied the brewing storm. Goddamnit! He exhaled and opened his eyes. The phone weighed heavy in his hand, and he turned it over and checked again that the message was still there. It was. Through gritted teeth, he pushed his body even harder. How had he reached this point? How had he wandered so far from the person he thought he was?

  “Mind if I join you?” The sultry Spanish accent of the freak’s first conquest still echoed in his ears. Visions of the Latina bombshell danced across his mind, causing his cock to twitch in his shorts. The white cocktail dress she’d worn had rested mid-thigh and her ample cleavage had been bursting out the top of the sweetheart neckline. Chestnut hair with streaks of blond cascaded down a beautifully tanned back and sat in waves on the shoulders of her athletic build.

  “Yes, please do,” he’d purred and pulled out the chair next to him. He’d accepted her company as she slipped in beside him at the bar during one of the many Miami Beach charity events that filled his schedule. He was someone in demand, after all. Yet after three months without her and no relief in sight, he’d been wallowing in self pity, and his body had begun to demand that he find another way to compensate for his emotions. He needed to feel something…anything. What he wouldn’t give to experience the vivid colors, beautiful smells, and brilliant feelings of love that had once filled his heart.

  After two drinks, their small talk had turned suggestive. He’d marveled at her beauty, and she’d spoken words of passion that made him hard. An inner urge began to build, which at first seemed alien in nature. It had been the first time since her that his urges threatened to consume him.

  Back and forth they went, dancing to the tune of lust, desire for the inevitable mounting with each graceful step across the dance floor.

  “Why don’t we get out of here? We can go back to my place and crack open a bottle of wine,” she’d suggested, and in the same moment she’d turned on her heel, leaving him to catch up to her.

  That had been the exact moment his addiction started. With that simple little sentence she’d provided him an alternative to the black-and-white life he was living. Nothing material had satiated his need for happiness, or even normalcy, and no amount of work could keep his demons permanently away, but the promise of flesh had awoken the freak and his carnal needs. But how could he have known where this would lead, what he would become? It was just a casual drink at a beautiful woman’s house.

  Before he knew it, they were in a cab and her version of a nightcap would soon become his heroin, the only way to numb, at least for a time, the growing pain that resided deep within his chest. They’d spilled out of the backseat of the taxi in front of a lavish beach house. Step by step he’d followed behind her and paused at the front door, wondering what could come from this act of desperation. What he’d found on the other side of her door was his medicine. His drug. A soothing numbness, and yet also the only way to find any energy or color or beauty in the world. This gorgeous Latina had tempted his body and also gifted him his first fix.

  Through all the faceless and nameless sex he’d had since she’d initiated him, he’d never been able to bring anyone back to his own bed or even kiss her on the lips. These two intimate gestures he kept in reserve for someone more deserving, but the freak hardly seemed to notice. It made him feel he’d preserved a part of himself, although lately his grip on that seemed tenuous as well. He knew if he fell much further, the facelessness and namelessness of his fixes would be his undoing.

  His legs burned and his lungs felt like they were going to explode when he finally eased up on his pace and began to downshift. A few minutes later, with his hands on his hips, he tried hard to catch his breath and
walked in a wide circle as he shook out his limbs.

  “Fuck it,” he whispered to himself. His mind, his body, and his soul: all three were suddenly ready to hear what Jaden had to say. As inexplicably as he’d started down the road to his addiction, he now prepared to turn around and start back. He turned the phone over in his hand and paused the music. He stared for a moment at the red message-waiting icon that had tortured him all day. When he touched it, a voice he hadn’t heard in an eternity began to ring in his ear.

  “Hey, Ivan. It’s Jaden. I’m in Miami Beach for the next two months, and I’d love to see you. Any chance you could make some time for me?” A pause left him trembling on shaky, tired legs, but then she continued. “Please call me back and let me know.”

  Her voice swam through him, igniting emotions he’d believed long dead. He tried to discern one feeling from the next, but couldn’t. Rage was trumped by happiness, which gave way to disappointment and then a flicker of hope, but in the end, anger trumped all. He was lost. Should he be happy? Should he be angry? Should he call her back? His mind did gymnastics as he tried to decide what to do. Could he stomach speaking to her, let alone seeing her? She’d left him a broken man, alone to pick up the pieces of his shattered life.

  He longed to call her back. Maybe forgiveness would make things right in his world and he’d be able to move on. But something in the back of his mind, some unfathomable force, told him no. Lightning crackled across the darkening sky. You need to move forward. Never break your promise to yourself. You have a plan.

  He’d been through this painful routine once before with Irena, and he’d somehow managed to get through it. It had taken time to heal the wounds, time for him to forgive, but now he harbored no ill feelings toward her and was at peace with everything that had happened. Time was the key word there. Perhaps he needed to give this more time. Jaden had stung him much deeper than Irena ever had, and he knew if he gave in to what he wanted, his ability to get what he needed might suffer. He loved what they’d once shared, and he didn’t want to taint it by playing the blame game…But who was he kidding? She was the one at fault, the one who’d been unfaithful to him. Jaden had made a conscious decision to be with another man while they were together, and then she’d lied about it.

  Ivan stopped his circling and yanked the T-shirt out of the waistband of his shorts. He used it to wipe the sweat from his face and his neck, and then with an aching heart, he started a text message to AVOID:

  Jaden, Your star no longer shines in my sky.

  Love for you still flows through my veins,

  but it no longer reaches my heart. I wish you the world. ~ Ivan

  He read and reread the message a dozen times, contemplating whether he was being stupid, childish, smart, or all of the above. All three made perfectly confusing sense to him. After a while he felt confident that he would never know whether texting her was the right answer, so he just pushed the send button.

  Thunder rolled across the sky, and the first drops of rain began to fall. He took a deep breath and turned toward home, scrolling through his music until he found the perfect tune. As he began to run, Adele began to sing.

  Chapter 12

  “Against the Wind”

  “IS EVERYTHING OKAY, MAN?”

  “This side of the dirt,” Ivan mumbled, studying his menu. Oliver’s was their usual hangout, and this lunch was long overdue. After avoiding Micky for weeks, he’d texted him yesterday after his mind-clearing run.

  “Don’t bullshit me.” Micky looked across the table, concern on his face.

  Ivan glanced up from his menu. “What?”

  “I know you know that Jaden is back in town.”

  “So?”

  “So…I just assumed when you texted me and set up this little meeting you were…you know…”

  Ivan put down his menu and leaned back in his chair. “Here we go again.”

  “I thought maybe you were ready to talk. Look, I’m just trying to help you. You haven’t been the same since you and Jaden split up.”

  “Would you be?”

  “Of course not, but it’s been six months.” Micky threw his hands up in exasperation. “What’s your deal? Business is good, and the women are plentiful. That’s not a bad life, if you ask me.”

  Ivan studied him for a moment. If it had been anyone else, he would’ve gotten up and left. He couldn’t even have a simple lunch without being reminded of her? But this was Micky, the only person he could confide in—not that he had. How many times had they seen each other since the proposal debacle? He couldn’t even count, but he’d never so much as acknowledged what had happened, no matter how many times Micky tried to bring it up.

  Yet now his words struck a nerve. “Yeah, I know,” he grudgingly responded. “What’s your point?”

  “Have you even talked to her since The Bath Club?”

  “No, I haven’t. But she texts or emails me almost every day. Yesterday she called and left a voicemail.”

  “Every day?”

  “Yep.”

  “And you’ve never talked to her or responded to her?”

  “Nope. I don’t need to.”

  Micky laughed and shook his head. “I think maybe you do.”

  “She made her bed. She can lie in it.”

  “Do you really think that? How do you know if you haven’t even talked to her? Maybe there’s something you don’t know.”

  Tasha and Micky had clearly overanalyzed this whole Jaden situation. Hell, Tasha was probably the one to put him up to this line of questioning. And they were questions better left unanswered. Once, just once, he wanted a day of peace—one day of not thinking about her. Was that too much to ask?

  As if fate knew he needed a temporary reprieve, the waiter appeared. But even after he’d taken their orders and collected their menus, Micky still wore the same questioning look. Ivan’s reprieve was short lived.

  “What else is there to know, Micky?” Ivan’s voice lowered into a defensive growl. “What would you do if Tasha slept with someone else—some rich kid, pretty boy who had more money than brains? After all the time and energy and love you poured into your relationship—not to mention keeping the rest of your life on track and starting a new business—she slips into bed with her co-worker the second you turn your back, the same co-worker she pissed and moaned about incessantly.”

  Micky sat back with his arms crossed over his chest while he vented.

  “Now, top that off with the fact that you knew you wanted nothing more than to be with her for the rest of your life, and to prove it you got down on one knee in front of all your friends and offered her a commitment that in her eyes was nothing but a joke.” Ivan rubbed his hand over his face and readjusted his chair before continuing. “Actually, wait—let’s take a step back because that’s not even the worst of it. For the real kicker, she doesn’t tell you what she’s done and instead takes you to her parents’ house, people you instantly fall in love with. Then she proceeds to fuck you after she’s been with another man and carries on as if she hasn’t a care in the world. This is a girl you would have done anything in the world for…” He paused for a moment to stare at the table.

  “I probably could’ve forgiven her if she’d just been honest with me up front,” he finally added. “That’s all I ever asked of her. But no, she couldn’t even do that. She jerked me along for God knows how long, screwing me and fucking him.” Removing his sunglasses, Ivan set them on the table and stared into Micky’s eyes. “Let me ask you this. Would you give a damn about her after everything she did, and would you listen to some bullshit story about how she was sorry?” Ivan silently dared Micky to respond, but he said nothing. “I didn’t think so!”

  The men stared at each other across the table, and Ivan reveled for a moment in the fact that he felt better, lighter after vocalizing six months of pent-up frustration and anger.

  “But you know what?” He dropped his head in defeat. “My problem is that I do give a damn, and I hate myself for it.
I still love her more than I should, and I’d probably still do anything for her if I let her get close. But I don’t think I’m strong enough to suffer another blow from that woman. That’s the reason I can’t talk to her—not because of anger or spite, but for fear she would crush me…again.” Ivan sank back in the chair and put his glasses back on.

  “You feel better, man?” Micky asked after a moment.

  Ivan started to chuckle. “Yeah, man. Well played. I didn’t think you were that clever.”

  “What the fuck does that mean?” Micky asked with narrowed eyes. But he was smiling.

  “Nothing,” Ivan said with a laugh. “Thanks, man, I needed that. It felt good.”

  Micky sat back in his chair, smiling. “We aren’t all Superman, my friend.”

  “No, we’re not.”

  “But that doesn’t mean we don’t all have kryptonite to deal with.”

  Ivan blew out a heavy sigh.

  “You did a good job practicing on me, but I suggest you talk to the person you really need to talk to,” Micky encouraged. “I think maybe it’s time you give her a call back.”

  Ivan reached for his glass of water and took a long sip. “Maybe I should, man. Maybe I should.”

  Chapter 13

  “Keep On Loving You”

  “LEAVE IT ALONE! EVERY DAMN TIME I TRY to do your hair you end up ruining it.” Tasha smacked Jaden’s hand away from the curls at the back of her head. “I’d think you’d be used to this by now. Don’t you have people doing your hair all the time?”

  “Sorry. I’ll stop,” Jaden huffed. “I guess I’m not as afraid of you as I am of Kat.”

  “Ha. Don’t push your luck,” Tasha countered. “I could be scary if I needed to be.”

  Tasha set back to work, feverishly pinning curls in place, and Jaden tried to get her mind on the night ahead. She’d been back in Miami for nearly two weeks, but she hadn’t been particularly successful at turning her mind off to recharge just yet, so it was just as well that Kevin was already scheduling her for events. Tonight’s gala, hosted by Jaden, would feature a who’s who of fabulous Miami restaurants, each showcasing their signature dishes.