by Anna Antonia
“Hello?”
Did that breathless little voice belong to me? Apparently, yes.
“Hello, Paige. I’m about to enter your building. Will you let me up?”
“I’ve already cleared you with security.”
“Good. See you shortly.”
The symphony rose to a crescendo when the door buzzed. Gavin was on the other side. Tonight was a big step to being like everyone else.
Normal. Happy. Free.
Pulling open the door, I took one look at him and whispered, “Wow.”
He changed into a black suit, white shirt, and teal tie. Freshly shaved and looking so handsome I ached, Gavin was every girl’s dream.
Or rather my dream.
“That’s my line, Paige.” He coughed and said, “Here. These are for you.”
Taking the bouquet of white roses, I sniffed them and smiled. “They smell nice.”
“They don’t have a scent. They’ve been bred for perfection and lost their aroma as a result.”
How could I forget one moment what a stickler for honesty Gavin was?
“You’re right.”
Gavin leaned down and sniffed them.
“I’d rather them be imperfect and real than fake and perfect, wouldn’t you?”
My smile flickered. I didn’t believe in prophecies but if I did I’d say this was a big one.
TWENTY-THREE
He doesn’t mean that. He just thinks he means it.
“Perfect or not, I’m just happy you brought them to me. Would you like to come in?”
Gavin murmured his thanks and stepped inside. A nervous tingle of excitement lit deep inside. I wondered what the apartment looked like through his eyes.
All the furniture and accessories were chosen by a decorator with no input from me or even Melissa. My father gave the woman free reign to do as she pleased. The insult and punishment was clear.
Even a stranger had control of my surroundings. Not me. Never me.
No.
I wasn’t going to let anything sour my mood. My father was who he was. Nothing could change it. Certainly not me. What was the point in getting irritated by thinking about it now?
Still, I relished the flicker of rebellion at seeing Gavin in my apartment. I didn’t have to wonder what my father would do if he even suspected Melissa’s son was here.
He’d tear this place apart. Then he’d drag me back by my hair to Hawaii where he’d lock me in my room for a thousand years.
I didn’t want to think about it. And I didn’t have to.
My father would never know about this little romance. It would be as if it never happened.
Gavin stood in the living room and looked around. “This is nice.”
“Thank you.”
“It’s not quite what I expected.”
“Really? What did you imagine?”
Gavin took in the gray leather sofas, ivory pillows, and splashes of emerald green with a discerning eye.
“Something less stark. Warmer. Brighter colors.”
I crossed my arms and grinned. “Why would you think that? I wear dark colors all the time.”
“True, but you’re not dark.”
For a man who was so right about so many things, Gavin was very wrong. I lived and breathed darkness.
Not by choice but by circumstance.
But then again, he wasn’t completely off the mark.
I created a pocket of life within these walls. Off in a small bedroom, I made something of my own. I’d had the original designer furniture carefully stored in the basement and replaced with a desk, computer, multiple monitors, bookshelves, display cases, and posters.
That room was my sanctuary, a place where I was free to be me. I kept it locked, just in case my father decided to show up out of the blue and inspect my place. I wasn’t allowed to have a lock on my door growing up so I recognized it wouldn’t keep him out, not if he really wanted in, but the symbolism soothed me.
Thankfully, he’d yet to inspect the apartment other than the first week I moved in.
Still, I knew better than to leave any permanent marks in my sanctuary. No nail holes or thumb tacks in the wall. The bookshelves weren’t attached either. Instead, they were wedged back with shims to keep from tipping forward.
It would be hell to have to move everything out if given notice of an impending parental visit, but I could do it. I already knew what Patrick’s reaction would be if he saw it.
“Paige, you’re not a child! You’re too damned old to hold onto dolls and comics!”
He’d said that to me when I turned six. All my beloved things were trashed on my birthday. And I wasn’t even allowed to cry about it.
I mentally shook my head.
Again, why was I wasting time thinking about an unhappy memory? The past was the past.
Dead. Buried. Over.
While I could never get the exact same things stolen from me, I replaced every single item and added more. So it all turned out for the better.
All the dolls I’d wanted and just plain caught my fancy were bought off eBay. Books upon books ranging from manga to romances to science-fiction filled the shelves. I even had more stashed on my e-reader and phone. Taped posters adorned the walls just because they were the kind of artwork I liked.
And if Patrick destroyed it, well, I’d just start all over again.
Determined to keep my thoughts on the here and now, I cleared my throat and focused on the one man in the world who I genuinely wanted to impress.
“Would you like a drink?”
Gavin kept his study of my living room, examining everything as if to find clues about me. Too bad he’d come up short.
He nodded once in answer.
“What would you like? Water, juice, wine, or something stronger?”
“Whatever you’d like is fine by me.”
Easy peasy.
I stepped out of the room and into the kitchen. Another impersonal space where I ate off plates that I didn’t pick. Strange how it didn’t bother me before. I wondered what the difference was now…
You’re nervous and excited Gavin is here. It’s just kicking up all your emotions. Nothing else.
True.
Looking over my shoulder and making sure Gavin didn’t follow me, I twirled once and then buried my face in the roses. No one had ever given me flowers before. Rubbing my cheek on the velvety petals, I let out a happy sigh.
I knew this didn’t mean much more to Gavin than a polite gesture. But even though the roses would eventually be thrown away, I wanted to treasure this moment. The one where Gavin really was the Prince Charming of all my girlhood musings.
Checking in the butler’s pantry, I found a glass pitcher that would make a good enough vase. Quickly freeing the roses from their wrapping and ribbons, I got them in their home and took the back way to get to my room.
I smiled seeing them on my nightstand. Perfect. Unable to resist touching the roses one last time, I thought of the joy they’d bring me in the upcoming days.
Suddenly, an image of Melissa taking an enormous bouquet and slapping my father in the face with them tumbled through me. I remembered how the scratches on his cheek matched the ruby petals scattered across the polished floors.
I was glad Gavin brought me white instead of red.
Determined to make this night perfect, I hurried back into the kitchen. Uncorking a bottle of white wine, I poured it into two glasses. I eyed the clock, unsure if we had time for appetizers. I took the lovely plate out of the fridge anyways.
Satisfaction filled me. The building’s top-notch concierge service was worth every penny.
I typically didn’t eat fruit and cheese nor did I drink wine, but Gavin did based off what I saw at the restaurant. Honestly, I didn’t know a good wine from a bad one. They all tasted sour to me. I only drank it in the company of others because that was what virtually all grown-ups drank.
It was something I could do without though.
Balancing everythi
ng on a large tray, I walked back into the living room to see Gavin perusing the collection of abstract art on the wall. Apparently, it was from a fabulous mixed-media artist who’d been homeless for five years before hitting it big.
Was it really true? I doubted it.
The more dramatic the backstory, the higher the price tag. However, my father’s eye for artistic talent was impeccable. The artwork was the only thing his designer did not have dominion over.
Gavin looked up. He crossed the room in a few short strides.
“Here, Paige. Let me help you with that.” He plucked the tray from my hands and gracefully set it on the coffee table.
Nervous, I smoothed my dress as we sat down together on the couch. Gavin handed me a glass first before taking one. He looked down, seemingly at the liquid. I didn’t have to be a mind-reader to know he was considering the best tact to take with me.
So was I.
Normally, this would be my cue to put the other party at ease. I’d already know what they liked to talk about—themselves. Easy.
But my powers failed me this time because I didn’t know what to do. This wasn’t any random person. This was Gavin.
It was beyond important to nail this. My problem was twofold—I didn’t have time to prepare. I’d also never knowingly observed a first date. What was the appropriate thing to say in these kinds of circumstances?
“Do you like the wine, Gavin?”
He took a sip and so did I. “It’s very good.” He paused and then asked, “Do you like it?”
Not really.
“Yes.”
A strained silence befell us. Gavin wasn’t a conversationalist on the best of days. I just hoped he would be different since we were on a date.
Think. Think. What would a poised, confident woman talk about in her swanky New York apartment with her multi-millionaire date? Or was he billionaire today?
“Gavin?”
“Yes.”
“Uh…” My mind blanked out. I couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Sinking into waters way out of my depth, I floundered for something witty to save me. “What’s your favorite TV show?”
My mind shrieked.
Oh how lame! The lamest of all the lame questions ever asked or ever will be asked!
Gavin set his wineglass down on the table. “I don’t watch TV.”
“Really?”
“No. I don’t have time for it.”
Just as expected from a highly successful man in his prime. No wonder he was the person I admired most in the world. Clearly, he didn’t believe in wasting his precious time with junk.
Except I loved that junk.
That’s why he’s Gavin and you’re…you.
Before I could praise him, Gavin rubbed the back of my hand and said, “You think that’s weird.”
“Not at all! I think it’s admirable.”
“The fact I don’t have a life outside of work is admirable?”
“You do. You’re here with me, aren’t you?”
Ah. That came out flirtatious when it wasn’t my intention.
Gavin didn’t lean back and smile in that smug confident asshole way men with not even a tenth of his looks and standing did.
“Can I be frank with you?”
“Please.”
“I haven’t been out on a date in almost two years. I don’t remember it being this hard.”
I liked his honesty. I admired the vulnerability he risked in sharing it with me. Possessed by the urge to give Gavin something precious in return, I stood up abruptly.
“Would you like to see the rest of the apartment?”
Gavin took the change of direction in stride.
“Yes.”
I took him about the long way, showing him rooms that had no real purpose, all the while working my way to the one room that really mattered to me. Just one more stop.
“Your bedroom is…nice.”
“If by nice you mean stark, then yes. It is nice.”
Gavin chuckled. “I was trying to be complimentary since I already stuck my foot in my mouth.”
“When?”
“When I gave my unsolicited opinion about your home. That was rude of me.”
“You rude? Perish the thought.”
“Now you’re making fun of me.”
“Just a little.” I rocked back on my heels while squeezing my thumb and forefinger. His mouth turned into a deep frown. Gavin’s gaze met mine and then cut away rather violently. “What is it?”
“Nothing.”
I realized then he hadn’t really looked me in the eye more than second since entering the apartment. Paranoia stabbed me that he’d found out my lies, but I refused to give it life.
Gavin was blunt, but he wasn’t a manipulator.
He wasn’t the type of person to play with his food. If he knew about Patrick and Melissa, he wouldn’t calmly be standing here in my bedroom.
There had to be another reason why he wouldn’t look at me now.
“Gavin, is something wrong?”
He clenched his jaw and turned towards the bed before pivoting on his feet.
“Nothing. Are you ready to go?”
TWENTY-FOUR
No. This couldn’t be happening.
I reached out and touched his arm. “I’m sorry, but is something bothering you?”
I already understood I was the cause. I just didn’t know the crime.
“No. Of course, not.”
He wasn’t telling the truth. I had no right to be disappointed considering everything I was doing, but Gavin was better than that.
Than me.
Something was the matter and I had to find out.
“Tell me what’s wrong. Was it the wine? Did you not like the cheese? I didn’t know what kind you like, but I can get a different type. It’s no problem.”
My anxiety skyrocketed the longer he stood there in silence. I hated it. At least with my father, I knew where he stood. I didn’t have to dangle like this, lost and alone as I tried to solve the problem of my incompetence.
When Gavin still wouldn’t answer me, I let go of his arm and took a step back. I didn’t know how to fix this but I would.
I’d learn from tonight and then I’d make sure I didn’t do it again. Preparation was everything and tonight emphasized why I put so much effort into it. Left naturally I always fucked it up.
My conversational skills failed me. That had to be the crux of my failure. I compounded my error by not verifying the right kind of wine Gavin liked. And the appetizers were obviously wrong.
It wasn’t too late. I could fix this.
Shouldn’t there be another way to be with people? Is it always your fault? Can’t it just be someone else’s fault?
Maybe, but that wasn’t my path. I didn’t know how to be any other way.
Taking initiative, I promised with a fake sunny disposition, “I’ll have something suitable ready for you in just a few minutes.” I whirled away from him only to come to an awkward stop when Gavin’s hand wrapped around my wrist.
“Paige, stop. You don’t have to do that.”
My mind fixated on the problem. I wouldn’t be swayed from correction. It was the only route to peace. The only way to make this anxiety subside.
“It’s not a problem. Truly.” I pulled my arm and tried to get free.
“Will you stop?” Gavin’s frustration cut through my low-grade panic.
I froze in place. “I’m sorry.”
“You think everything is your fault. I promise you it’s not. Don’t be sorry and don’t apologize.”
“Sorry.” I bit my lip, understanding my instinctual response was only making things worse.
Gavin sighed and groaned as if he was in tremendous pain. “You’re killing me, Paige.”
I didn’t say anything, afraid to interrupt and make things worse.
Worse? How could they possibly get worse?
“Everything was fine. The wine, the grapes, and yes, even the cheese.”
&n
bsp; “Then why won’t you look at me? Why do you seem so perturbed?”
My vulnerability was out there in the open. No shell to hide behind.
Gavin’s mouth curled into a somber frown. “Have you looked at yourself in that dress?”
Oh no. How could things possible get worse? Just like this.
Did he think it was too much? Too tight? I should’ve gone with something conservative. My hair? I should’ve put it up instead of letting it hang all the way down my back.
Humiliated by the hot rush of tears, I blinked them back furiously. Of course, I got it wrong. I’d make the rookie mistake of confusing sexy with classy. Why would Gavin want to be seen with someone who was clearly inferior to the well-dressed socialites he’d dated?
I may have been born to the wealth, but I’d been isolated and living on an island with a different view in regards to fashion and exposed skin. It was no wonder I kept miscalculating.
In the quest to create a new version of me, I outed myself as a fraud. I didn’t understand the nuances of male desire. I’d tried to please him and ended up getting the opposite reaction.
Shrugging as if it wasn’t a big deal, I tossed out, “Okay. Whatever we’re going to do is not tight-dress-friendly. No problem. I can change into something else. It’ll only take a couple of minutes. If you’d just wait in the living room I’ll be done in a sec.”
If only my outside matched my inside.
God, I hated how much of a sniveling, cringing, insecure creature I was! Why couldn’t I get anything right? Why couldn’t I be normal?
“It won’t matter.”
Of course, it wouldn’t. The damage was done.
“I see.”
My fingers linked together, palms cold and damp. Was this the part where he excused himself and we pretended tonight never happened?
You know it’s for the best anyways.
I did. So why did I feel so crushed?
“You don’t. I’m afraid to look at you because you’re so damned beautiful. And then you bring me here to your bedroom and all I want to do is kiss you, but I can’t.”
Wait. He thought I was beautiful?
The shackles of my disappointment loosened.
“Why can’t you kiss me?”
Gavin placed me square in the sight of his laser-focused gaze. What I saw there took my breath away.
