by Taylor Dean
“Thank you. Rule number one if you’re going to live here. Be clothed at all times.”
“Spoil sport.”
There’s this odd moment where we simply smile at each other for much too long. I lower my eyes and return to my piano.
“Did my practicing bother you this morning?” I ask.
“Not at all. I loved it and found it relaxing. You’re . . . amazing, Mila. Really impressive.”
My cheeks grow hot at the compliment. “Thank you. I’m playing with the Marin Symphony. You enjoy the piano?”
He plops down on the couch, propping his bare feet on the coffee table. An unforgiveable sin in Ryker’s eyes. “I do. I associate it with happy times, time spent with my dad. My father used to take me and Ryker out on father-son outings. He took us to the usual stuff, ballgames and other sporting events. But he said he wanted us to be well-rounded, to appreciate the arts, so he also took us to the symphony on several occasions. There was almost always a pianist. It was my favorite part. Can you imagine that though? Two young boys with lots of energy sitting through a symphony?” Zane laughs to himself.
“Was it miserable?”
“No, actually. I fell in love with it. It fascinated me. To this day, I love it.”
“Ryker must feel the same. That’s how I met him. He attended one of my performances with the Marin Symphony. I met him during the meet and greet after the show.”
Zane folds his arms across his chest. “Did you really? What a coinkydink.”
“He asked me out to dinner right then and there. He gave me his business card so I wouldn’t forget his name.” I laugh aloud at the thought. “He missed Dating 101.”
Zane leans his head back on the couch and releases a half smile, half scoff. “Interesting,” he says slowly, then hops to his feet. “How about breakfast? I’m starving. Wanna join me?”
After what Ryker told me, I am feeling wary of Zane. I can’t figure him out. He seems friendly, casual, relaxed, and pleasant. He must have another side he’s not showing me. But, like last night, I don’t feel threatened. He may not be an honest individual, but I don’t think he bears any ill will toward me. Until he proves himself otherwise, I’m going to go with the flow. It’s seems like the best course of action.
“I could use a short break.”
“Sweet.”
We make our way to the kitchen. Zane takes out two bowls, fills them with cold cereal to the brim, and adds milk. “Breakfast is ready, dear,” he says with a wink.
“Quit impressing me, Zane.”
“You ain’t seen nothing yet.”
“If you make me peanut butter and jelly for lunch, I won’t be able to stop raving about you.”
He chuckles as he opens the French doors that lead to the balcony and says, “Let’s eat outside. The sun is calling my name.”
I grab my bowl and follow. He’s already sitting at the outdoor table, his bare feet once again propped up on the table as he basks in the morning sun. He takes a bite, dons his sunglasses, and leans his head back as he chews.
“Mmmmm, heaven.”
Huh. I’ve never thought of a bowl of Lucky Charms combined with sunshine as heaven, but this is nice in a bohemian kind of way. “I didn’t know we had Lucky Charms in the cupboard.”
“We didn’t. I picked them up yesterday. Stocked up. Ryker doesn’t eat this crap.”
No, he doesn’t. He’s into protein shakes and health food. Judging by Zane’s physique, it’s clear he doesn’t eat junk all day either. Maybe this is his one vice. Scandalous.
“How are you and Ryker brothers?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t know, it’s an enigma.”
“You’re very different from each other,” I remark slowly.
“Always have been. So, tell me about you, Mila. What’s your story?”
That was a quick change of subject. The Martel men don’t like to talk about their strange brotherly relationship.
“I grew up in the small town of Twin Falls, Idaho.”
“Small town girl in the big city, huh?”
“Yeah. Not my first rodeo, though.”
“Oh? Where else have you lived?”
“I attended Juilliard.”
“Ah, New York City.”
“Yes. I went on scholarship. My parents are hard-working middle-class people. They couldn’t afford to send me there.”
“What do your parents do?”
“My dad owned the local hardware store in downtown Twin. My mom was a stay-at-home mom, the kind that made homemade cookies for me after school. They’re humble and sweet. They’ve sacrificed everything for their children. They’re retired now, always wearing work out clothes and going to the gym every day to maintain their health. They’re pretty wonderful.”
“Siblings?” Zane asks.
“One older brother. He’s still in Twin.”
“Sounds like you had an ideal childhood.”
I can’t see his eyes with his sunglasses on, but I don’t know him well enough to be able to read him anyway.
“Yeah, I did.”
“What made you come to San Fran?”
“My father grew up here, so it felt like a piece of home. My dream is to play with the San Francisco Symphony one day. I’m hoping to be invited for an audition. I saw Daniil Trifonov play Rachmaninoff’s Third Piano Concerto with them once. I was mesmerized.”
“You have passion, Mila. It’s refreshing. What else do you want in life?”
I tip my head to one side. “What else? That’s not enough?”
“Sure it is. Just wondered if you wanted more.”
“Not many people ask me that, like playing with the symphony is such a lofty goal, I can’t possibly want more.”
“Do you want more?”
“Yes, eventually I want a family, children. I have big dreams, but I also know what’s most important in life.”
He nods and turns to stare at the view, a brooding expression on his face. I have no idea what he’s thinking after all I revealed.
I get to my feet. “I need to take Artie out for a short walk and restroom break, then get back to my practice session. Thanks for the cereal.”
He stands as well. “Mind if I come with? I’d like to stretch my legs.”
I hesitate. I can see where this is going. We’re going to be friends and Ryker won’t like it at all. It’ll put me in an uncomfortable position and it will add to the strain on an already strained relationship.
Frankly, I can be friends with whomever I darn well please. And so far, I like Zane. I should be friends with Ryker’s brother. Ryker should be friends with his brother.
“Sure. I’d like that.”
I told Ryker that Zane and I would hardly see each other. Yet, so far we’ve enjoyed a movie and pizza together, breakfast together, and now we’re about to embark upon a walk outside with Artie. I think I underestimated the relationship that might develop when living under the same roof. I think it’s a good thing, though.
We’re interrupted by Zane’s phone. Of note, his ringtone is Bad to the Bone.
Somehow it suits him.
Zane mumbles, “Here it comes.”
I don’t understand until he answers. “Ryker, my man. How’s it goin’?”
Zane holds the phone away from his ear. I can’t make out everything Ryker is saying, but I can hear that he’s yelling angrily at his brother at the top of his lungs. I don’t even recognize his voice. He sounds like he’s in a rage. I even hear a few choice expletives leave his lips, the kind of words I would never expect my smooth-talking man to say.
A scowl takes over my face. Ryker does have the Freddy gene and I’m not cool with that. There’s another side to him that I don’t know. Or like. I feel my disillusionment growing by leaps and bounds. I’ve heard about men who seem perfect during the dating timeframe, then become different people altogether when they’re married. Will that happen with Ryker? I’m not sure I want to marry him and find out the hard way.
I shi
ft from foot to foot, feeling extremely uncomfortable. Why is Ryker treating his brother like this? It seems completely uncalled for.
When the yelling stops, Zane calmly says, “Would you like me to leave?”
The yelling starts again. From my end it sounds very much like an adult on a Charlie Brown cartoon.
Zane sighs and waits for his chance to speak. “I can grab a hotel. No prob.”
Ryker starts up again with his angry rant. It’s so unlike the man I know. I mean, he’s a hardheaded businessman with a reputation for being politely cutthroat. But I thought he had more tact, more diplomacy.
Zane sits back down and kicks his feet up, patiently waiting for a break in the tirade. “Yep, just until I find housing. In this market, won’t take too long. I’m lookin’ to buy.”
Zane remains quiet while Ryker puts in his two cents. His voice is still raised, but he’s settling down a bit.
“Okay. Sounds good,” Zane says finally, ending the call.
“What was all that about?” I ask, incredulous.
“In a nutshell?”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“There was a lot of How dare you show up at my apartment. Even though he gave me a key, just sayin’. Then there was the How dare you scare my girl. How dare you watch a movie with my girl. If you so much as look at her the wrong way, I’ll have you drawn and quartered. You can’t stay for long. Mila has a soft heart and doesn’t think I should kick you out. Thanks for that, by the way. That about sums it up.”
“Are you serious?” Doesn’t he trust me?
“That’s putting it politely and leaving out a few choice words. I thought it best not to mention breakfast or that you were standing right next to me.”
Zane has the audacity to wink at me.
I’m stunned for several moments, my mouth hanging open in, I’m sure, an unflattering manner. Once I regain my senses, I say, “I think that was a smart decision.”
At that moment, something very odd happens, something very unexpected.
We both start to laugh. And once we start, we don’t stop.
chapter ten
~
AS WE WALK through the city streets, Artie does his business and wants to be held as usual. He’s so teeny, a walk down the block exhausts him. One of our steps is five for him.
Zane holds Artie in his strong arms. He rests his head on Zane’s chest and promptly falls asleep.
The sun, the bay breeze, and an invigorating walk is exactly what I needed. I should return to my piano, but today I feel like slacking off.
“This is not a dog. He’s practically a cat,” Zane says.
“More like a newborn baby.”
“Seriously.”
We walk in silence for a bit, enjoying a lazy gait.
Curiosity makes me say, “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure. Shoot.”
His fast response makes me feel like he’s an open book. I like that. “What happened between you and Ryker?”
“He’s never told you?”
“No, he doesn’t talk about you much.” I pause. “I’m sorry, that came out wrong.”
He strokes Artie’s head. “No worries. I’m well aware of how my brother feels about me.”
“He told me about you, but not much more, other than there was a rift between you.”
“You know, Mila, perhaps it’s better if Ryker tells you. If you ask two different people about the same story, you’ll get two different answers.”
“I’d like to hear your side.” He stops mid-stride and faces me. So I stop and do the same. “What? What’s wrong?”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For wanting to hear my side.”
I nod. “I’d like you and Ryker to have a relationship, so maybe it starts with us. You’re probably going to be my brother-in-law, after all.”
“Probably?”
A small sigh escapes. “Yes, probably. To be honest, I don’t know for sure what will happen between me and Ryker. We’re a work in progress.” I’m still shaken by his angry voice as he yelled at Zane. Will he use that tone on me if I upset him? That’s unacceptable to me.
“Fair enough.”
“It kills me that he thinks of you as his enemy.”
Zane stiffens. “He said that?”
“Sorry. I assumed you knew he felt that way.”
“I guess I did.” He shrugs and we resume walking.
“You know, Zane, no one will tell me the whole truth and it bothers me. Both Ryker and your mother talk around the state of affairs. I gotta say, it’s tough to hear what your own mother has to say about the situation. If I can do something to mend fences, I’d like to help. Am I butting in where I’m not wanted? Tell me if I am.”
“Here’s the thing. You can’t fix it, Mila. You should know that right now. You’ll only be disappointed. And Debra’s not my mother.”
This time I stop in my tracks. “What?”
Zane faces me again. “My mother passed when I was only three months old. My father married Debra shortly thereafter and they had Ryker. I’m the barely tolerated stepson with the evil stepmother who pretty much hates my guts.”
He says it casually, like it’s no big deal. I know it must hurt much more than he’s letting on.
“Oh, I didn’t know that. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s been that way my whole life. I don’t know anything different.”
“What do you mean?”
Passersby stroll past us, ignoring the man and woman having a deep conversation in the middle of the sidewalk, a small dog between them.
“I like to think of it like this. A king found his queen and he was enamored with her from the very beginning. He loved her more than he’d ever loved anyone in his life. They had a son to complete their happiness. But the queen was ill and the pregnancy took too much out of her. She died when her baby was only three months old. The king was devastated and couldn’t be consoled. He poured all of his love onto his son, because he was a manifestation of the love between him and the love of his life. Then he found someone new, someone who could put a balm on his grief. He married her and she became the new queen. Unbeknownst to the king, she was evil. Soon, she had a son. But the evil queen could see that the king loved the child of his one true love more than he loved her son. She became jealous. She hated the firstborn son because he was heir to the king’s kingdom. She wanted her son to be the heir and she’d do anything within her power to make it happen. Even if it meant turning the two half-brothers against each other.” He pauses. “That was my life. It still is. But I took myself out of the equation.”
“Wow. I wasn’t expecting that. Everything makes sense now.”
“It’s complicated. I’m not sure Ryker understands it completely. He’s been brainwashed by Debra.”
“Why are you returning home? Why would you put yourself back into the situation?”
“I need to be with my dad. I don’t think he has much time left. I have commitments to the Army. It took me a while, but I was finally able to get an assignment here.”
My hand lifts toward him of its own accord, but I let it lower to my side. I can’t offer physical comfort. It wouldn’t be appropriate.
“I had no idea. Thanks for helping me understand the dynamics.” I feel lied to by Debra and Ryker. The situation isn’t quite what they made it out to be. Assuming Zane is telling me the truth, that is. I’m not sure why, but I feel inclined to believe Zane.
“Mila, keep in mind, Ryker’s not the bad guy. He’s a product of his mother.”
The evil queen. How much of his mother is inside of him? I’m confused and unsure. “We’d better get back.”
On the walk back home, my mind is reeling. I thought I was taking a walk with the bad guy, the villain, the rogue. The man I was supposed to be wary of, the man who should not be trusted.
Turns out, I’m walking with the prince.
The true prince.
chapter eleven
I ARRIVE HOME from practice with the symphony only to find music once again blasting through the penthouse. It’s so loud, Zane doesn’t hear me enter.
He’s in the kitchen making dinner, wearing his usual at-home attire—torn-at-the-knees jeans and his signature white t-shirt. And of course, he’s barefoot.
At least he’s wearing a shirt. He’s been here for three days and I’ve learned it’s rare for him. If he has pants on, he considers himself dressed.
I observe him unnoticed for several moments. Adele is singing about sending her love to her ex’s new lover and Zane is singing along, dancing around the kitchen as he cooks. The mess he’s making causes my stomach to twist.
For a moment, my mind conjures up a vision of Ryker in the kitchen, plating expensive take-out he purchased for us. He’s wearing a suit because he’s always wearing a suit.
I wrack my brain, trying to remember if I’ve ever seen him in anything other than a suit.
If I have, I can’t recall.
I like him in a suit. He’s a clotheshorse and wears them well. I’ve always thought he looks like he walked off a magazine shoot wherein he was the lead model.
Every time I’ve ever visited Ryker, the penthouse has been silent. We eat formally at the dining room table and spend our time talking. The lights are always at full brightness. There’s never candlelight.
The thing is, I enjoyed those evenings. I treasure the time we’ve spent together, even if it has been a tad formal.
Yet, I have to admit, this is more me. I like the relaxed atmosphere, the informality, the stress-free vibe. I immediately feel calm.
I could see Zane doing a Risky Business slide across the floor while lip syncing to Old Time Rock and Roll. It would be as natural to him as breathing.
He spins around and freezes for a second when he notices me.
“Oh, hey Mila. I didn’t hear you come in.” He’s completely unembarrassed, comfortable in his own skin. “I’m making chili. Want to join me?”
After I lift my jaw up off the floor, I toss my purse—which now reminds me that I’m a faux-leather purse kind of a gal—and music bag onto the dining table instead of putting them away. Somehow, the action feels scandalous.
