by N. Michaels
I feel much better once I’m back in New York, back in my hometown and back with Laura. There’s just something in the New York air that makes my soul calmer, something that soothes my nerves and worries. I always loved the Big Apple and I’m glad to be home. Laura welcomes me to a sparkly clean apartment and hot meal on the table.
God, I love this woman, like my second mother.
“So… tell me everything! How was it? Did you get time to rest or was it all work, work, work?” Laura asks as she takes my bags away.
“Mostly work but I had a few moments to enjoy myself… I met Mark there.”
“What?” she gasps, dropping the suitcase with an audible ‘bang’.
“Yeah, out of all places… he was playing in a lounge and invited Mr. Miller and me to come by.” I keep my tone leveled.
“What? … I mean… how, how was he towards you?” her hazel eyes wide open.
Yep, our breakup is one of the most notorious breakups I’ve even had. I took it really hard and it affected my parents and Laura; they hated seeing me hurting so badly.
“He was fine actually, even dedicated a few songs to me, thinking it would smooth everything out… yeah right.” I roll my eyes.
I leave out the fact that he came to my room piss drunk and tried to force himself on me, again. No need in getting her all worried and in return getting my parents all worked up, since she tells them every word that leaves my mouth.
I collapse on the dinning chair and inhale the fragrant steam coming out of the beet-red soup.
“That boy needs to stay away from you or else I will hunt him down and have his head on a spike!” Laura fumes.
“Don’t worry about it. It was very awkward but that’s all it was.” I lie and pick up a spoonful of Borscht.
I hum with appreciation as the rich flavors flow over my tongue; she always nails it.
“Glad you like it.” she smiles a satisfied smile at me.
“I missed your cooking.” I blow her a kiss and she grins wider.
After lunch, I let Laura unpack my suitcase while I took a long shower.
Lathering up, I notice a small bruise on my thigh; it looks like a thumbprint. I close my eyes, stroking the bruise lightly while the earthshattering kiss replays in my head. I shiver and I know it’s not from being cold as I’m standing under the hot spray of water. Emotions clog my throat and desire bursts inside me. I’ve never been kissed like that, never been consumed so entirely. Mr. Miller’s demanding and passionate lips eclipsed every kiss I’ve ever received, his enticing touch overtook every sane thought and wrecked me completely… and I hate that I can’t break him, that I can’t bring him to his knees to beg for me. I am losing my natural confidence and I don’t like the feeling. I have to get myself together. Rinsing off the suds, I focus on one thought. Don’t mix business with pleasure.
I come out of the shower, wrapped in my fluffy white bathrobe and look over my bedroom. It’s not as big as the one back at my parents’ house but still… it works for me. I designed it in my favorite colors, white, silver and lilac. I sweep my eyes over my room, taking it all in. At the right corner, a big white wooden desk with my laptop and other gadgets. Above it is a wide open wall shelf stacked with CD’s, photo albums and a custom made Cartier figurine, a snow leopard made of white diamonds and onyx stones, it’s eyes are deep, green-blue diamonds. A gift from Tom, my first boyfriend, even though I threw every shred of him out, I couldn’t part with the leopard. It’s timeless. And as I stand and look at it, I realize how similar the color of its eyes is to Mr. Miller’s gorgeous, turquoise irises. I place a finger on top of its head, petting it absentmindedly as my thoughts focus on those blazing irises. After a minute or two of daydreaming, I flop down on my plush white vanity stool, looking at my reflection through my mirror that is enclosed by an antique frame with elaborate resin carvings in silver and gold leafs, and see my flushed cheeks and startling emerald eyes.
I methodically blow-dry my hair, apply my lotion and add a spritz of perfume and decide on skinny jeans and basic heather grey tank top for my clothes. Before heading to the living room, I glance back at my bedroom. Overall, a modern look that fits me perfectly, I smile.
I sit down at the only thing my parents allowed me to take from their house, my mahogany Bösendorfer Imperial Grand Piano. I start with Beethoven’s sonata number 14, also known as, ‘Moonlight’.
As my fingers stroke each key with the softest touch, my eyes flutter shut and I let the melody consume me. My body sways slightly as my mind clears of everything, and I think of nothing else but this beautiful piece my hands are playing. It’s my escape, the place where I can lose myself completely and become a part of the music, a part of something perfect. A place where all my worries and feelings vanish, if only for a few minutes, a place I can be whatever I want to be, have whomever I want... it’s the resurfacing, the ‘back to reality’ that is hard to do.
After I finish, I hear a sigh. I open my eyes and turn around on the bench, finding a relaxed and slightly dreamy Laura, sitting on the sofa behind me. I smile gently at her.
“I swear, Katya, you play like the angels.” Her voice holds so much awe.
“Only because you made me practice every day.” I wink at her.
“And thank the lord I did. Play something else but happier… I feel like you need to cheer up.”
I look down at my bare feet and wiggle my pedicured toes. She can read me like no other.
If only you knew Laura…
“Sure. I’ll play you my favorite.”
I turn back to the keys and play my most favorite piece. Every time I hear it or play it, it lifts my spirit with its gentle and calm melody. My fingers start their soft caress and the melody of ‘River Flows In You’ by Yiruma fills the living room.
Monday started out all right. Julia informed me over a phone call that I am now no longer a temp but a full time executive assistant. I even received a bonus for my good work in Miami. Feeling triumphed; I threw myself into work, wanting to do even better.
I was in the middle of typing an rsvp for a gallery opening for Mr. Miller, when Rose opened my office door. She was ushering a deliveryman inside. He was holding a small round glass vase with a dozen pure white roses. The card that came with it had clarified who the sender was, Patrick. He wrote that he would love to get together again and that these roses remind him of me. Since I discovered that he lives in California, I have dismissed the idea of him as anything else but a friend. I don’t waste my time on long distance relationships. I need my man near and available at all hours.
The delivery awarded me with questioning look from Mr. Miller. Not even ten minutes later, another knock and another delivery.
What in the name…?
This time it’s a small golden box with a thick silky brown ribbon wrapped around it.
After I signed my name, I reach for the card:
Kissa,
You have no idea how sorry I am for my behavior. I am embarrassed and ashamed for treating you the way I did. I want to ask for your forgiveness – I know I don’t deserve it. Thank you for not pressing charges. After that night, I decided to admit myself to rehab. That night was a wake up call and I won’t ever let that happen again.
Forgive me.
Mark.
I force myself to breath deeply and slowly as I fight the tears that started rimming my eyes.
This is not the place to cry.
But while my mind tries to rein my body into submission, two fat tears escape from each eye. I swipe them quickly with the back of my fingertips. I knew Mark would feel horrible for that night.
But Mark would never apologize like that; he would text or call, and him going to rehab?
Something feels weird…
Yet relief floods me at the thought of Mark seeking help and finally taking responsibility for his drinking. I look at the small box and take off the lid. Inside lay eight chocolate truffles by Pierre Marcolini. I reach to close the lid and notice a post-it on the inside:
A small smile pulls the corner of my lips at the memory that pops into my mind, us sitting on the grass in Central Park, feeding each other chocolate truffles and strawberries and drinking Cristal. That feels like ages ago. I put the box away in my purse and as I straighten, I find Mr. Miller standing in front of my desk, scowling down at me. My eyes widen.
“Is… is something wrong?” my voice wavers slightly.
A dark brow rises, “This is a workplace. I would appreciate if your suitors wouldn’t send their declarations of love here. It distracts you from your work.” His voice is like ice brushing over my skin, sending a little shiver down my spine.
Immediately, my mind has about twenty different snarky comebacks but I can’t say any of them since he’s my boss. Instead, I decide to bite the inside of my cheek and nod.
Mr. Miller gives me a look over, still frowning, although something brief passes in his eyes, too quickly for me to read, then he retreats back into his office.
What was that all about? Jerk.
At lunchtime, I looked up from my monitor at Mr. Miller and saw him talking on the phone rather avidly. Oh right… he had a conference call. Since I’ve done most of my tasks, I decided to spend my lunch with Julia, a very giddy Julia.
She led me into a small Italian restaurant across the street. Even though space is small, it is finely decorated with deep mahogany wood tables and aged wooden floors. White linen tablecloths cover the tables, adorned with small vases holding white and pink peonies at the center of each table. It’s pretty busy but apparently, Julia knows the host. After a few words are said between them, Julia loops her arm through mine, leading me to the back of the restaurant to a corner table.
“Guess who’s joining us?” she’s almost squealing with excitement.
“Who? I thought you said it was just me and you.”
“Nick! Nick is back from Paris!” Her smile might split her head in two if it gets any wider.
But her grin is infectious and I find myself smile back at her, “When did he land?”
“An hour ago! He’s going to stop by our place to literally throw in the luggage and then straight here. My God, Katya, I’ve missed him so much I think I’m gonna bawl when I see him.” Her eyes start to shimmer.
Oh. No.
“Julia, pull yourself together. You haven’t seen him in a week not a year. God! You guys are always so touchy-feely. I remember you two in high school, you could never be apart from each other for no longer than two days without one of you going into some sort of emotional breakdown.” I roll my eyes to emphasis my point.
“Oh, shut it!” she slaps my forearm teasingly. “You know how we are. We can’t be away from each other for too long. We start missing each other and we get sad. Like really sad.” She pouts.
My eyes stay on Julia’s face even though I see the familiar silhouette of Nick’s body approaching our table from behind her.
Nick covers her eyes with his hands and whispers, ‘Guess who?’ into her ear.
This time she actually squeals and jumps out of her seat, throwing herself into his arms. I shake my head, smiling at them when suddenly I feel an unfamiliar pang. It’s working under the surface of my conscious feeling of happiness for them, twisting and curling itself around my heart. Tightening with each passing second. I take a deep breath to loosen up the tension but it refuses to yield.
After a very quick make-out session in front of everyone in the small restaurant, Nick and Julia return to Earth and sit down.
“How are you Nick? How was Paris? Did you get me any gifts?” I ask after we placed our orders.
Julia doesn’t bother to ask, knowing Nick she has a closet full of presents waiting for her.
“Paris was lonely.” Nick gives Julia his big grey, moony eyes.
“Aww… babe.” She looks like she’s about to cry again.
“Ok. If you two are not going to stop this, I’m going to take my lunch and eat it back in the office. I’m this close to losing my appetite.” I bring my thumb and finger an inch away.
Julia looks back at me, scowling but says nothing.
Good.
“Sorry. Kit-Kat, I just can’t help it.” Nick chuckles and I smile back.
“Yeah… Paris was not as much fun alone, but I hadn’t had much time for sightseeing anyway since I was stuck in the hotel room working on five presentations and having long hour meetings. But yes, I did get you a present. And no, I’m not telling you what it is.”
“What? Ok… when am I getting it?” I ask impatiently.
Nick has a thing with gifts ever since I knew him. He will never tell you what he got you or when he’ll give it to you. Some weird tradition he and Julia started on their first birthdays together that somehow started applying to other people as well.
“Well, since you and Julia work together now, she’ll give it to you. How is that going by the way? I’m having a very weird out of body experience seeing you, my fierce Kit-Kat, all suited up and serious.”
“Ha. Ha. Ha.” I say drily. “I’m actually quite fine. Never knew working was this much fun.” I bat my eyelashes and they start laughing, making me smile earnestly for the first time since Miami.
We finish our meal and while waiting for the check, Julia excuses herself to the ladies room. I look at Nick and smile at the memory of all of us, Vera, Milan, Julia, Nick, Mark and myself in high school. We were all so close back then, just a bunch of crazy teens.
“Ok Kit-Kat, now that Julia is not here, I gotta say something.” Nick leans in, grey eyes shining.
“What? You’re pregnant?” I say with mock shock.
He rolls his eyes, “Ha. Right. No… Julia’s birthday is coming up this Friday, but she doesn’t want to do anything. Clearly, I’m not going to listen to her, so basically, I’ve arranged a surprise party for her. You have to be there. Whatever hot date you got, cancel it.”
I snicker, “Why do you always assume I got a hot date? FYI, I am currently single and happy.”
Nick lifts an eyebrow and gives me his, ‘Oh really?’ look.
I expel a quick breath, “Ok… happy is little stretching the truth, but I’m single. And of course I’ll be there! Wh- oh, she’s coming back! Just text me the info.” I whisper the last part.
He gives me a casual nod and leans back.
“Why do you look like a cat that’s been left alone with a bowl of cream?” Julia asks Nick as she settles back into her chair.
“Just driving Kit-Kat crazy with what I got her from Paris. The girl has zero patience.” He shakes his head at me.
I roll my eyes and mutter, “Whatever.”
After parting ways with the reunited lovebirds, I walk back to my office with a dumb smile on my face but my smile slips when I think about that weird pang I felt while seeing them together.
What the hell was that?
The thought occupies me until the moment I step into Rose’s office. She blanches and her eyes widen, “Where have you been?!” she whispers sternly.
I frown, “Out for lunch. I told you.”
“Why haven’t you picked up your phone? I’ve been calling you nonstop!”
“Why? What happened?” I ask alarmed.
“He was looking for you and he’s not happy. I don’t know what’s going on, but you better get in there before he breaks something!”
My frown dissolves and terror takes over.
I’m going to lose my job. I took one goddamn lunch without telling him and now he’s going to fire me.
I try to take a deep breath but the air barely passes through. I knock and enter a few seconds later. Mr. Miller’s hard as crystal eyes pierce right through me as soon as I close the door behind me.
“Where were you?” his velvety voice delivers goose bumps to the back of my neck.
“I went out for lunch.” I lift my chin a fraction.
“And you didn’t think about letting me know that you were leaving?” Mr. Miller rises from beh
ind his desk, prowling towards me achingly slow.
“Am I suppose to report to you every time I leave the office? What if I need to use the ladies room? Would you like to know each and every time I need to relieve myself?” I arch one brow.
What the hell are you doing? Shut up! Don’t talk back or you’ll lose your job in a blink of an eye!
Finally reaching me, Mr. Miller keeps advancing, causing me to back up until my back is pressed against the door. He places both of his hands on either side of my head, caging me then lowers his head slowly… God… so slowly, I think I’m about to lose my mind. My breath catches and I feel his soft lips next to my ear.
“Maybe, I just wanted to make sure you’re safe. Can you blame me for worrying about you after that night?” he whispers into my ear.
I swallow and let out a shaky breath, “I… I – I didn’t think…”
I can’t even form a bloody sentence! My brain receptors are completely fried from his proximity, his heady scent that lures me in, the heat that is radiating from his body into mine. I fight the urge to arch into him, seeking his warm, hard body.
“You don’t need to worry about me, Mr. Miller. I’m a big girl.” I finally manage to find my voice.
“Oh, but I do. So from now on, if you go somewhere, make sure you tell me first.” It’s more of an order than a request.
“I – ummm… ok. Fine… I’ll tell you.” I mumble.
Get it together!
Just because he’s so close to me and every time he speaks, I feel his warm breath on my ear and that resonates somewhere else, deep below my waistline, does not mean I need to turn into a puddle of mush. I try moving out of Mr. Miller’s confinement but he presses himself completely into me, immobilizing me then brings his forehead to mine.
“You also didn’t get me lunch. What a bad executive assistant you are.” He teases; his voice is dripping with sin.
Oh crap! I didn’t get him lunch. I am a horrible executive assistant.
“I – I’m so sorry Mr. Miller, let me order something for you right now.”
I put my hands on his abdomen, feeling the hard, sculptured abs through the fabric of his shirt.
Oh God…
