by Brinda Berry
This explains why Nonna raised him. “So, he never sees her?”
“No. But it’s for the best. She turned her back on her own child. She’s a monster. Could you give up on your son?”
That’s an easy one to answer. “Never.” Instead of picturing Ryder, I see a little boy with Aiden’s serious eyes and midnight black hair. A sad boy sitting on the doorstep of Nonna’s humongous house. I know it’s melodramatic, but I can’t seem to stop the hurt that floods me when I try to reconcile the Aiden I know with this story.
I shift uncomfortably and glance toward the doorway. “Aiden’s one of the most well-balanced people I know. He’s so…” I search for the right adjectives but fail. “You did a good job, Nonna. He’s a good person.”
“He has scars. Every person does.” She pauses and sips her tea, deep in thought. “When Aiden was a little boy, he was very quiet and still. I look forward to your next visit when you bring your son.”
I imagine Ryder putting his little fingers on every valuable item inside Nonna’s house. “I look forward to it.”
Aiden appears in the doorway and eyes us. We’re silent. “What?” he asks. “Did you run out of stories about Sicily?” He returns to his seat on the sofa and winks at me. “Nonna was a handful when she was a girl. I feel sorry for her father.”
“It’s true,” Nonna confirms without a bit of regret in her voice.
Sipping my coffee, a brew so black it may grow hair on my chest before we leave, I nod as Nonna talks about her upbringing. “My patri was very, very strict. No looking at boys. But I was a spitfire,” she says, as if she isn’t this way at all now, “and sometimes I looked, a little.”
“Did you get in trouble?” I prod since she’s stopped. I assume that patri must be her father.
“I did. But I still lifted my chin and challenged all the boys to win my affection. You and I, we are very alike and I know this is what draws my Aiden to you. You do not so easily let the men woo you. I had to be strong to resist all the temptations of youth. I am glad you let my Aiden woo you.”
Woo me. I smash my lips together. It’s charming, the way she thinks, and I don’t want her to misinterpret my smile.
“You’ve got that right,” Aiden says and snags a walnut ball cookie. “But I let her hit me in the eye one night and then she fell in love. Right then.”
Oops. He slipped. That’s the night he let Nonna think we were engaged. It’s a good thing the lady isn’t quick to call him on it.
Nonna elbows him, but she’s smiling. “You are such a bad boy. Do not make fun of my Mak.”
My Mak. The way she says it…like we’ve been friends for years. I’ve always been close to Mama—and of course Ryder—but it puts a fuzzy feeling in my belly to have her warm up to me so quickly.
This is not real, I warn myself. Don’t get too comfy.
Nonna rubs Aiden’s hand. “This is what I wanted most for you. Someone to take care of you after I’m gone. Someone who will love you with all her heart.”
I stare at her ebony eyes, maybe dimmer than they were back in the day. Still, they see plenty. She assesses my face.
Don’t hurt this one, she seems to say without words.
Shit a brick. This woman is not one to cross. She will come back to haunt me if she discovers what we’ve done. I’m going to throttle Aiden.
Nervous belly flutters hit me when she continues to give me a hard stare.
Then the moment passes when she must feel she’s made her message clear. She yawns and sits back against the cushion. “What time is it?”
“Time to go,” Aiden says and pats her knee. He stands and holds out a hand to me. “You should rest, Nonna, like the doctor told you.”
“Before you leave,” she says, “go into the pantry and get the red cookbook with the rooster on the front. That one has the cookies. I’ll give it to you early.”
“Oh, I shouldn’t,” I say, horrified that she’ll learn she gave her treasures to me—a fake only pretending to be engaged.
“Go get the book. Aiden, take her. I’m going to sit here and rest.” Nonna’s earlier enthusiasm is curbed, her smiles more forced, her speech slower. It’s clear she’s tired.
Aiden nods. “Come on. We’ll go and get it.”
I have no choice but to let him tug me through the house. His hand comforts me as nervous adrenaline shoots through me. I don’t like the thought of taking the book or the thought of another woman getting it. It’s probably the most selfish thought I’ve had in a while. “What are you doing? I mean, that’s awfully nice of her. But I do have morals. I can’t take something intended for the girl you’re supposed to marry.”
He laughs under his breath. “She has dozens. And if you want to copy the recipe and give it back later, you can. This is what she wants.”
I can give the book back later. No harm, no foul. I stop arguing, because as selfish as it is, it makes me happy.
We walk through a galley-style kitchen with rows upon rows of white cabinets. He opens a door, flips the light switch, and walks inside a small room with shelves on three walls. “The pantry,” he says.
I have space to walk past him to the section of books on the far wall. “Wow. There’s a ton of food. She ever going to need all this?”
“No. She’s prepared for a recession. Or war. Whichever happens first.” He pulls the door shut.
One bulb in an overhead light fixture glows dim inside the space. The cocoon environment of the pantry feels intimate. Dangerous.
“Hey. What are you doing?” I eye him, reading the look on his face. I know exactly what he’s thinking…because I’m thinking it, too.
He stalks toward me, four steps occurring in agonizing slow motion. “I behaved all morning.”
“Two hours,” I correct. My pulse speeds up. Thump-thump-thump-thump. This isn’t right. Nonna’s out there, waiting. My body sways toward him, not listening one iota to my brain.
“Two excruciating hours of being patient. I’ve heard all Nonna’s stories.” He smoothes my hair back and holds my head still. “And I paid attention to each one like it was the first time.”
He leans forward, so close I notice the tiny flecks of iridescent color in his blue eyes. “You made an old woman very happy today. She’s important to me. Thank you.”
He’s a hypnotist, and I’m his willing subject. My breaths are shallow. “You’re welcome.” The words come out thready.
I grab his shoulders and go to my tiptoes. His muscles bunch under my hold. Inch by inch, he finally lands his lips against mine. His kiss is soft and romantic, tender and serious.
My lungs expand and struggle. My skin burns with a sudden rise of blood flow. My heart feels swollen. When he pulls back, I realize I’m hanging on to him. I release my grip on his shoulders.
What was he saying? Ah, yes. He thanked me for being nice to his grandma. “You’re welcome,” I mutter.
“You already said that,” he whispers.
“Oh,” I whisper back. I straighten and step back, knocking into a shelf.
“Careful there,” he says, coming close. He reaches out and his hand reaches past my shoulder and traps me within his frame. I freeze like a rabbit hoping to stay undetected. He pulls back and holds a red cookbook.
“Yeah. I forgot we came in here for that.” I take it from him and clutch it to my chest like a dang shield.
“That’s not why I came in here. But you gave me what I wanted. For now.”
I blow out a shaky breath and go for nonchalance. “Well, we’d better get out of the pantry before Nonna wonders what happened to us.”
He lowers his head and gives me a cocky grin. “Why do you think she sent us both in here?”
Chapter Eleven
New Client
February
Aiden
“Drew needs to see you in his office right away.” Matt, a co-worker at Evolutions, jogs up the last three steps to meet me on the third floor.
I glance at my watch. It’s almost time for
my shift to end. I’ve worked with five clients today and all I want to do is grab a shower and head straight to Makenna’s.
It’s Valentine’s Day.
Makenna. All day, I struggled to concentrate on my job, because I’d find myself thinking about her. And honestly, I’ve thought about Ryder, too.
Connections with people can’t be measured in time. We’re only been a few weeks into our relationship, but every evening I spend with them reveals a little more about them and a lot more about me and what makes me happy.
I ascend four sets of stairs, more determined to make this talk with Drew quick. Several clients want to stop and talk for a minute. I’ve been at Evolutions Fitness for years, hired during my sophomore year in college. I know everybody.
When I enter the lobby, Kerri glances up from the computer behind the check-in station. “Drew is looking for you.”
“Yeah. I heard. In his office, right?”
Her gaze flicks to Drew’s office. “Yes. He says it’s important. There’s a visitor in there with him.”
Drew’s door stays open most of the time, but today it’s firmly shut. It’s odd and definitely suspicious for it to be closed. Usually, this would mean someone is getting reprimanded or canned.
But I’m not sure what it means when a visitor is behind the door. Then it hits me.
Maybe he’s found an investor or silent partner for my fitness business since we talked about it last week. I smile and take a deep breath. I can make time for this, my future.
I knock twice and wait.
“Come in.” Drew sits behind the mahogany desk looking relaxed, a smile lingering on his face. His guest faces the desk, not dressed in a suit as I’d imagined some investor type.
The guy turns slowly and gets to his feet. Jared Jameston.
What the ever-loving fuck is he doing here?
He’s dressed in gym clothes, tennis shoes, and a baseball cap. He looks like a guy ready to work out. “Hey man,” he says, all relaxed and chummy. “Good to see you. I was just telling Drew here that I’m ready to get back in shape. Tours do a number on a person’s body.”
His casual tone, like we are friends who slap each other on the back and shoot hoops on Saturdays, throws me.
Drew beams, showing all his veneers. “And we’d love to have you as a client, but I understand why it’s necessary to have sessions out at your place. It’s a miracle you snuck in here today without getting mobbed.”
Drew is obviously a fan.
I study Jared. He wants to unnerve me. Piss me off. “Didn’t expect to see you. So, you’re joining and need a trainer? I’ll be glad to introduce you to some choices. Mindy is the winner of the 2014 US Women’s—”
Drew interrupts me. “You must not have heard me. Jared can’t come here. You’re going to go to his ranch for the sessions.”
This isn’t going to happen. There’s no way in hell I am going to pander to this guy who thinks he can order me around like valet parking. I part my lips in a customer service smile while I shake my head.
“Wish I could, Drew, but my client list is heavy as it is. Like I said, maybe Mindy or Derek? I know they’d both feel really lucky to have Jared as a new client.”
I look at Jared. I am determined to keep this professional, but… If I trained you, your workouts would be so brutal, you’d need to hire a personal assistant to help you sit on the toilet.
Never underestimate an intense leg workout. Men always do.
Maybe I should tell Drew the truth about why Jared showed up today. I don’t even know this guy beyond witnessing his jealousy in the hospital emergency room. And now it makes sense. He’s tracked me down and thinks he can threaten me here in some way.
Drew can fire my ass if he doesn’t get it. But there’s something about Jared thinking I’m afraid of him that rubs me wrong.
Jared laughs low—a sound that makes me want to throw him over Drew’s desk. My pulse jumps in my throat, anger rises hot on my skin. Say one thing about Makenna. Go on. It’s why you’re really here.
He picks up a gym bag at his feet and throws the strap on his shoulder. “I guess if you can’t handle me as a client, I can find another trainer.” He turns to Drew. “Thanks for trying to help me out, man. I’ll see what I can do about those tickets to my April show.”
Drew’s eyes widen, obviously in a panic that we’re losing a celebrity. He comes around to the front of the desk and props himself on the edge. “Aiden, we’ll work out your schedule. Matt can take on some of your regulars so you’ll have time for Jared.”
Then Drew turns away from me and focuses all his powers of salesmanship on Jared. Gives him a spiel about the nutritionist who can also travel to Jared’s house and discuss weekly menus. No problem. And would Jared like to take some Evolutions clothing with him? Maybe some golf balls or a muscle shirt…
My hearing dulls due to the explosion of what-the-fuck in my head.
“Aiden?” Drew’s voice comes back into my consciousness.
I take a deep breath, preparing myself to be fired and lose my boss’s support when I leave this place. Some things are worth professional suicide. “Drew. I’m sorry, but it’s not possible.”
I catch Jared’s expression. He watches me, smug smile on his lips, waiting for it to happen. He never expected me to come out to his house in the first place. I’ve done exactly as he planned.
I issue a challenge with one loaded look. A challenge that he’ll be sorry for trying to fuck with my head, with my livelihood, and with my relationships. My relationship with Makenna might be new, but it already has roots twining deep into the earth.
Jared returns the look. “Maybe he’s nervous about coming out to my place since I’m famous.” He ends his statement with smug smile.
“Fuck you.” The words gunshot from my mouth. Angry adrenaline spews through my bloodstream and I clench my hands into fists at my side. I’d never talk this way in front of a client or my boss. Until now.
I’m a lunge away from knocking that smile right off his lips.
Drew stands abruptly and his chair legs squeal against the tile. “Aiden. I…um…think you need to step out. On second thought, why don’t you call it a day and I’ll talk to you in the morning.”
Jared chuckles. “Aiden, you’re a riot. Drew thinks you’re serious. Actually, I thought I’d ask for a female trainer, but knew it’d be funny to mess with you first. Maybe you’d like to come out and shoot some hoops with me. Have a few beers. Talk about women.”
Drew laughs and rakes a hand through his hair. “Jared, you’re the one who’s a riot. You had me going there for a second. I should’ve known.”
I pull in air through my nostrils. Drew’s relief fills me with guilt. He’s caught in the crosshairs of Jared’s little game.
“Sure. Yeah,” I say. “I’ll drop by your place tomorrow. I can whoop your ass shooting some basketball or anything else.”
Surprise flickers across Jared’s features, then he contains his emotions. “I look forward to it. I’ll see you in the morning.” Jared rattles off his address and I type it into my phone.
Drew glances at a wall clock. “Aiden, I’m going to take Jared to meet Mindy before she leaves for the day. So, you guys can catch up tomorrow, right? Oh,” he says, shaking his head. “I’ll be laughing about this later. Aiden should take up acting,” he says to Jared.
I don’t even say good-bye as I hustle outside before I do something I’ll regret. Tomorrow, I’ll set him straight on how much I detest his attempt at mindfucking me.
The irritated feeling that crawls along my skin won’t disappear as I drive toward home. Maybe going to Makenna’s tonight is a bad idea. The last thing she needs is me asking what kind of psycho she’s involved with.
Was involved with. I need to calm down.
My cell rings and I check the ID and a photo of the caller flashes across the screen. It’s Makenna and Ryder, a photo I snapped at Gunner’s. They’re bending down to examine something on the ground—a dead
bug or a rock. Who knows? Ryder is intent on whatever it is he’s found and Makenna gazes at him like he’s discovered he can spin grass into gold. She’s pretending to be amazed and impressed.
It’s the most beautiful thing: her love for her child.
I press the button and it’s too late. I call back without waiting to see if she leaves a message.
“Hi.” Her husky voice holds a smile as bright as a summer sun.
I smile back. “Hi. How was your day?”
“The worst. An advertising company hired me to write a jingle for a commercial, and they keep changing their mind about what they want. They assumed I’d also be singing and…hey, I’m not a one stop shop.” She hesitates. “Whoa. I just unloaded on you. Please remember I normally tell all this to a three-year-old and he responds by asking for cookies. I just want to forget everything negative tonight. How was your day?”
“Good. It was good,” I lie, because how can I tell her that her ex and I will probably come to blows in the morning? Later. Later I’ll calmly explain how that motherfucker is going to be sorry he messed with me.
“What time are you coming to get me to visit Nonna?” Makenna asks. “Mama wants to spend time with Ryder so we could actually go alone.”
“About that. I went by to see Nonna during lunch. We don’t have to go.” I brake behind a long line of commuter traffic. It’s Jared’s fault that I’m stuck going five miles an hour now.
“Oh,” she says and the weight of a long day comes through in that one word. Her house sounds quiet. No television or kid noise in the background.
My earlier mood flees, chased away by her voice.
“But I was wondering if I could still see you. I’d love to spend time with you alone. We could stay at your place or go somewhere. Whatever you choose.”
She’s silent. I imagine her sitting on her sofa, tight little T-shirt and jeans that hit low enough to show me a sliver of pale skin. Bare feet tucked under her. Toenails painted glittery gold, something I’d noticed last night before I left.
