Leon's Way

by Sunniva Dee

  Jason draws his mouth up on one side, considering her use of the term.

  I unwrap an adorable little baby onesie. Wow. I don’t even have an opinion on these things. Soon I’ll have to start browsing baby stores. Cribs, strollers, clothes—

  Leon opens the big, square gift from Cameron. It’s just a gas station plastic bag roped tight with fiberglass tape, the only ugly gift on the table.

  —Diapers.

  “Ha, and it’s got instructions on there, look,” Cameron says. “I’d totally need that.”

  “I’ll make sure to memorize them,” Leon plays along, and I’m thinking I should practice on an inanimate object first. Poor baby.

  “Oh, Cam! What did you say again, yesterday, when I told you about them?” Ingela asks, eyes wide. “Damn, that was funny.”

  “Inga, no—I said nothing.” Cameron is worried. This should be interesting. Ingela doesn’t take hints, a fact Cameron has yet to learn. In this case, I’m pretty sure Inga understands “I said nothing” to mean “I don’t remember what I said. Please remind me.”

  So she does. “Yes you did! You said a lot of stuff,” she assures him, nodding to both Leon and me. “He said you’re a horse,” she tells Leon.

  “Oh, you mean hung like a horse?” stupid Jason helps.

  “All right, kids—bring on more gifts,” Christian butts in, trying to save the situation, and four gifts are shoved across the table at us simultaneously. Girls chatter, even usually quiet Manuel chimes in with something I can’t hear.

  “No, for knocking out a baby,” Ingela calls out. “He’s a horse. Or a student. No…”

  “Shut up, Ingela,” Cameron wheezes out. For once, he’s horrified, cheeks actually flaming.

  “Oh, okay.” She frowns, still thinking of the right expression. She gets the point, though: this is embarrassing, and Cam doesn’t want her to explain further. I unwrap a pair of adorable baby shoes while Jason completes the train wreck, causing everyone to go silent with awkwardness.

  “Ah, I know!” He smiles like he’s got the final answer in a game show. “He’s a stud for knocking Arriane up!”

  This is Leon we’re talking about. The cagey, unreachable boss everyone looks up to, the one everybody except Inga obeys to a “T.” No one jokes around with Leon. Not even Christian gets chummy with him. The last time his guard went down and he lost face in front of his employees was New Year’s Eve. Ninety-nine percent of the staff was fired or relocated to Choice as a result.

  It’s so silent in here. The only sound is the crinkling I purposely create with the next gift. So quiet I hear Shannon when she whispers into Christian’s ear, next to me. “Is the Swede for real?”

  Leon’s arm is draped over my backrest, and his chest supports my shoulder. A low hissing sound sieves out as air expels from his lungs. It takes me a moment to realize that it’s suppressed laughter.

  I swing to look at him just as the others peek over too, and Leon has tears in his eyes from laughing. Jason’s low rumble joins him first. Then, comes Cameron’s somewhat panicky guffaw, and the new girls’ tittering.

  “You two are insane,” Leon finally manages.

  I wink at Inga, who shrugs. “I was just sayin’,” she says.

  One of these days we’ll have a crash course in do’s and don’ts where her yapper’s involved. Sooner rather than later. Her vocabulary is too big for her own good already, and if used inappropriately, she might end up taking a literal hit for it. After all, she works at a bar.

  “I can still fit on your bike,” I inform him, but he shakes his head, stare serious under those silky bangs I love to brush away. Now, I can do that; there are no mixed messages anymore, because we’re a couple. We’re freaking together!

  His voice muffles through the plastic walls encapsulating me. Unfortunately, Leon takes the spare helmet off of me. It’s black like his but girl-sized. I won’t think about how many other girls have been inside the thing.

  “It’s not about fitting or not fitting. I’m not taking any chances with you and the baby. The truck’s better, Arria.”

  I must look deflated, because his mouth quirks up the tiniest bit, cracking the still planes of his features. “You? Are cute.”

  I probably should find the statement sexist. He’s clearly not even addressing my wish, but honestly, I like to be cute in his eyes and he is doing it for us.

  “Your mother—Melinda, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “She okay with us?”

  “Ha. When I said goodbye after our lunch date, she… never mind.”

  “What?”

  I giggle a little. I don’t want him to think badly of her, because, for me, I couldn’t have scored a better mom. “Bah, she doesn’t know you. We’ll give her time. Let’s just say she believes you’re too sexy to be a good father. She’s judging you by the looks.”

  A slight crease forms between his eyebrows. He’s putting two and two together, surely realizing I’ve told my mother quite a bit about him. Time to skew the conversation in a different direction. “Shisha Gardens, huh?” I say.

  “Yes, I need to celebrate the day you finally caved in and became my girlfriend. My aunt and uncle are there tonight too, so I get to show you off to the family.” He stares at my seatbelt, the frown deepening. I’m buckled in already. I’m not sure what he’s unhappy with.

  He starts messing with it. Scoots the upper belt above my stomach and the lower one farther down. Still, he’s not satisfied.

  “What? Something wrong?” I ask.

  “Hmm. There’s no way this thing is made for pregnant ladies. If the car stopped abruptly, it would squeeze over your stomach.” Leon’s brow dips lower.

  It’s tempting to throw out a joke, praising motorcycles over cars, but I have mercy on him and tell him about the pregnancy attachment my cousin uses in her Honda.

  “Well, we’re getting one,” he says.

  We.

  “In the running for Best Father too,” I retort, making him crack a smile.

  I’ve been to Shisha Gardens before. The sprawling Japanese restaurant his family owns occupies an entire plateau of the Firam Peak mountainside, replete with gorgeous artificial ponds, green lawns, and low, red-lacquered buildings where the majority of the surface is glass.

  To step inside this palace of an establishment stirs a mixture of feelings in me, all of which are good. It reminds me of the Celestial Palace in the Forbidden City, but the elegance here is modern and much simpler in style.

  “The color,” I think out loud.

  Leon holds the door open for me. “What about it?”

  “Oh, nothing—the red is what makes me think of the Celestial Palace.”

  My comment was right on, apparently, because he grins down at me. “Make sure to slip that little tidbit into the convo with my aunt. She’ll adore you.”

  “Leon!” a short man in his fifties exclaims. I instantly notice how his back is as straight as Leon’s. He grabs my boyfriend’s hand and shakes heartily, but his amused gaze settles on me.

  “This is she?”

  “Yep, Uncle—Arriane Sarin, my girlfriend.”

  “Such a pleasure. You can call me Hank,” his uncle says. His features are pure and strong, similar to Katsu’s, but less dainty. He seems genuine and interested. I instantly like this man.

  “Nice to meet you, sir. Is that a… mmm, Japanese name too?” I ask stupidly. For such a little man, he’s got quite the rumble of a laugh.

  “Ah, no-no-no,” he says. “My father named me—”

  “—my grandfather,” Leon specifies to me.

  “Yes, yes. He called me Hideyoshi, which is hard for Americans to say.” He nods, entertained at how we absolutely butcher his name. “So ever since I was little, I’ve gone by Hank.”

  Leon’s aunt wasn’t feeling well, Hank tells us. While he recites her apologies and heartfelt wishes to meet me very soon, I take in the ballroom-sized space behind him. The indoor ponds and the bridge in the middle. The small,
intimate tables with miniature rice lamps holding tea lights that flicker at their center. I smile, exchanging information and pleasantries with Hank, but my eyes draw past the crowd to the back wall.

  In front of an enormous depiction of the Celestial Palace in bronze sits a couple I’d recognize anywhere. Dominic is leaning in over the table, covering one of Pandora’s hands with his.

  They don’t look our way, because they’re too busy beaming at each other. Of all the days we could have chosen… What are the odds?

  Hank is observant. He follows my gaze and pats my shoulder happily. “Ah, yes. Your friends are here. Pandora and Dominic? They are so sweet. They come back for their monthly…” He thinks for a minute before he continues. “Well, for their anniversary each month. It’s good for the relationship to be romantic, you know. Look at your aunt and me, Leon.” He straightens even more, proud of himself.

  I risk a look in Leon’s direction while Hank flags down a waiter. Leon’s face has gone studiously blank. His skim-milk blues reveal no sentiment whatsoever, and my heart bounces in my chest. Crap. I haven’t seen Pandora and Dominic since New Year’s Eve, since everything happened.

  For a moment, I’m insecure. Does Leon still harbor some sort of feelings for Pandora? There’s such pressure on him right now, between his father’s illness, me being pregnant, us having decided to be an item… is this going to tip him over? He snapped yesterday, to the point of leaving his own club at the peak of one of the busiest nights of the year. Such an unthinkable thing for him. He’s clearly not himself. This encounter—is it too much?

  Leon’s hand tightens around mine, his face void of expression.

  “This way, sir. Ma’am.” The waiter bows his head respectfully and shows us a table at the foot of the bridge, across the path from Pandora and Dominic. We’re so close we could chat without raising our voices. Hank gives us a thumbs-up from a distance, thinking he’s done us a favor.

  In seconds, I register everything about Pandora out of the corner of my eye. She’s beautiful as always, with those long, golden, slightly wild waves of hair reaching her butt over a cream-colored shift dress. It’s simple and sporty and ends above her knee. She’s wearing some knockout heels, like she always did at Smother, and a touch of makeup.

  Suddenly, I’m very aware of how I look. I’m glad I chose the red, knee-length dress I bought the other day. It accentuates my better features—my boobs and butt. I haven’t worn it before, because it also puts my tummy on display, stretching comfortably around my waist. My makeup is in place, I’ve got my own high heels, and I wear my hair down, long and sleek, the way Leon likes it.

  “Dominic. Pandora,” Leon says, nodding in greeting. He doesn’t sit but lifts a finger to the waiter. Orders ice water and hot tea.

  Pandora looks up first, green eyes going wide with surprise. “Oh hey, Leon,” she says, smiling. My heart stutters for a second, before realizing she’s being sweet and not in an imma-steal-your-man sort of way. Duh. Why would she be?

  I sneak a glance at Dominic, who leans back in his seat, comfortable yet hesitant. He reaches a hand out. When Leon clasps it, he gets out of his chair. My boyfriend is pleased. I see the slight curve of his lips and the quick flicker in his eyes. Pandora gets up too. Wow. These two are acting like we’re friends.

  “You’ve met my girlfriend, Arriane,” Leon says.

  “Oh, yeah. Hi, Arria—long time.” Pandora chuckles. “We don’t go to bars anymore. I’ve had my fill if you know what I mean.”

  “Right. Good for you,” I say. Pandora’s attention strays to my stomach, while Dominic thanks Leon for the gift basket. Apologizes over not having done so before.

  “Oh! Is that…?” She’s not sure if she should continue, but she’s curious.

  “Yes.” I glance up at Leon, whose conversation with Dominic stopped at Pandora’s “oh.” His arm tightens around my waist, pulling me in against him.

  “Wow, congratulations, you guys.” She’s grinning like she means it. There’s no resentment in her eyes. “Dominic, they’re having a baby. Oh my God, I should be the godmother.”

  As sick as it sounds, Pandora did bring us together. Who knows if Leon would have noticed me if it weren’t for his meltdown after she left.

  “Right—or not,” Dominic says, used to her impulsive blurt-outs. “Congrats, guys.”

  “Awful idea indeed,” Leon agrees, and Pandora laughs, covering her mouth with two fingers. She slides into the crook of Dominic’s arm.

  “She’s crazy,” Dominic explains and kisses the top of her head fondly.

  “So you celebrate here, then?”

  “Yeah, always, thanks to you, Leon. This is such an awesome place,” Pandora gushes, “and today’s our five-month anniversary.”

  Damn, right. The first of May.

  “For us, it’s our first celebration,” I say.

  “Ah, we’ll probably meet them here every month until we move, then, honey,” she tells Dominic.

  Ten minutes later, their meal is over, and Pandora and Dominic leave. In Leon’s eyes, I read no distress. He’s content. Our food smells amazing, and a variety of small dishes are spread on stands around our table. Hank isn’t going to let us leave hungry, apparently.

  Our first run-in with Pandora and Dominic since the incident couldn’t have gone better. Relief and happiness blend in my body. “That went well, huh?” I ask out loud.

  “That? Was perfect.” Leon takes my hand over the table. “You got your blood pressure pill? Don’t forget to take it with the food.”

  “Yes, Dad,” I say, and he kisses my knuckles in response.

  I don’t understand. Why this resistance? It’s day three of Arriane sleeping at my apartment, and she’s still acting like she doesn’t live here. The woman has a stubborn side I haven’t witnessed before, and now she’s tipping her chin up, glaring at me with bright, violet eyes. Damn, if she weren’t so cute I’d give her a spanking. I’d give her one because she’s so cute.

  No. I wouldn’t.

  Fuck. This shit is hard.

  “And why’s that, baby?” I demand. “Just explain, and I’ll consider it.”

  Anger flashes through her eyes before she speaks. “It’s my decision, Leon—not something you get to ‘consider.’”

  Hmm.

  “Plus, I don’t want to intrude while Katsu is here. You two need time together. With your dad being in the hospital again… Listen: I’ve got my place. Ingela misses me, and you and I will see each other every day anyway. I freaking work down there.” She points to the floor in case I don’t recall where she works.

  “No, you don’t understand. Kat might stay a while—she’ll be working out of Deepsilver on her game design project until all’s sorted out with our father—and her being in town can’t steal from our time together,” I repeat yet again, but she’s not listening.

  “Sweetie, I’ll leave my stuff in the dresser and in your bathroom—”

  “Our bathroom.” I’m still calm. I’m not yelling.

  Arria’s gaze flows to my fists at my sides. I unclench them and reach for her. Wrap her into my arms and sink my nose into her mane. Love the spicy smell she’s got going. It’s sexy as hell.

  She doesn’t shoot off another retort, which I take as a good sign.

  “Katsu will be in the spare room, and she’ll use the other bathroom. I want to wake up with you snoring on my chest in the morning.” I rake my fingers into her hair and tighten around the back of her neck.

  “You do?” Arria’s voice has the soft, yielding quality that gives me hope. “We’ll be bumping into each other everywhere, though, and you’re not exactly discrete when we’re… together. It’s one thing to live with unrelated roommates, but your sister?”

  I angle her head up to enjoy her mouth. She relaxes into me, ready to be persuaded. Good. I’ll change her mind.

  She tastes of lemons, a new craving of hers. Last night, she got up to eat four of them, peel and all. I’m Googling where to get organic ones
today, because this can’t be good.

  “I don’t snore,” she mumbles against my mouth.

  “Maybe not. Might be more of a low roaring.”

  She snickers. “Nu-huh, I purr.”

  A muffled rumble vibrates through the floor. Robin’s in the house and has started testing his sound downstairs. It’s an hour until doors open. I can accomplish what I have in mind by then. “Not really, baby, but I can make you purr.”

  I start removing her shirt, and she lifts her arms while I kiss her. We’re trying to peel the damn thing off over her head without letting go with our mouths, which isn’t working. Finally, I yank it off and get to work on her bra. Pity she wears one at all with those swollen tits. Then again, I’d hate for anyone else to visualize them through the shirt.

  “Ouch,” she moans when my hands feast on both mounds. Her little complaint is mixed with desire, which causes me to grow.

  “Hmm, sensitive?”

  “Yeah, everything is, but especially my boobs. So weird how they’re so present now.”

  “Believe me, darling—they’ve always been present.”

  She gasps out her laugh, because I’ve moved on to her pants. She shouldn’t be wearing pants either. “Actually,” I hiss into her ear, “not only are you staying here and not moving back into your little, pink pad—”

  “My apartment is all cream and peaches.”

  “As I said: pink. Like you in your secret place.” I show her with two fingers exactly where, and she yelps. Interesting how she’s surprised. She should know it’s a favorite of mine by now.

  “Leon! Let’s head downstairs,” she says, but she’s still kissing me, shifting her hips against my hand.

  Ingela’s loud laughter rings out from directly beneath us. Which means she’s in the restroom. What could possibly be funny in there? She’s distracting Arriane, though, and I don’t like it. I shake my head when her eyes open and wander to the door. “No, Arria. Not after working me up you don’t.”

  “That wasn’t me.” She feigns astonishment. “Seems to me you’ve worked yourself up. Your hands, Leon? They’re everywhere,” she murmurs, sex on long legs as she backs out of my hold.