Forgive & Regret

by Kaitlyn Cross

  “Today is going to be tough for me,” she replied, watching the glass doors to the restrooms. “I’m knee deep in designs for the bar.”

  Sawyer was quiet for a few seconds and there was no ignoring the hurt in his voice that came next. “I thought you were starting on that next week.”

  “Thought I’d get a jump on it,” she said. “After last night I figured I need to get some points on the board and quick.”

  “Oh.”

  She could hear his spirit sink in the oppressive quiet strangling her lungs.

  “Well, I guess I’ll see you at Vicky’s birthday party tonight then.”

  Stella cringed. She hadn’t broke the news to Hank yet that she was leaving town for a few days and wouldn’t be attending Tricky Vicky’s little birthday shindig tonight. Silence as thick as cold mud pressed through the line. Her eyes darted to a massive flower pot on the walkway in front of the car, blurring the tulips and daffodils into colorful blotches. “Sounds good.”

  “And I think you’re right about the island. Makes sense to demo the whole wall.”

  “Just watch out for Jase’s sledgehammer.” She turned to a white minivan pulling into the spot next to her. The side door slid back before the van stopped moving and three young boys slipped out, chasing each other inside. Stella stiffened, watching Roman dodge them on his way out.

  “Where are you?” Sawyer asked, yanking her attention back to him.

  “McDonald’s,” she muttered as Roman strolled closer with a bounce in his step. He was beautiful when he walked, casual and confident.

  “McDonald’s?” Sawyer said. “Cottage Grove doesn’t have a McDonald’s.”

  The sun beamed off Roman’s slicked back hair, giving him a warm halo. She swept a tongue across her lips as he looked her direction, thinking about tonight. “I should go.”

  Roman rounded the front of the car and she hung up, making a mental note to never answer her phone again.

  He climbed inside and shut his door against the wind, watching her deposit her cell into her purse. “Everything okay?”

  “Huh? Oh, yeah. Just letting Hank know I’ll be gone for a few days.”

  Roman examined her through a pregnant pause that made her uncomfortable. “Is he okay with this?”

  Sunlight poured through the car’s windows, exposing her self-assured smile. “He thinks it’s a great idea.”

  “What about missing Vicky’s birthday party tonight?”

  “He’s fine with it. Trust me, I think he’s happy to get rid of me for a while.”

  Roman barely nodded, watching the lines shift in her face. “Good,” he said, bringing the throaty engine to life and backing up. He put it in drive and turned to her with a devilish grin. “Ready?”

  Stella smiled back, heart aquiver. “Ready.”

  He hit the gas, sending smoke and laughter out the back. The tires caught against the pavement, shooting the classic car toward the city, where trouble could not find them if it tried.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The towering condominium was narrow and built mostly of glass and steel, making Stella instantly feel underdressed. She looked up from her jeans and yellow top as Roman stopped the car in front of a wide garage door. Without rolling his window down, he held a silver card up to a small black box mounted just outside. Noiselessly, the reader’s light switched from red to green and the door began to roll up into the building, spiking Stella’s adrenaline. Roman flashed her a tight smile and pulled inside the underground garage that stretched forever. Hundreds of fluorescent lights reflected off the shiny cars parked inside, each vehicle they passed more expensive than the one before it. It looked like a secret car lot, hidden below ground, accessible only to the one percent. Roman parked all the way up front by a glass door and shut off the engine. It was quiet.

  “This is it,” he breathed, stretching his back out against the seat.

  She looked around, taking it all in. “Does Tony Stark live here too?”

  “Wow, I never would’ve figured you for an Iron Man fangirl.”

  “I have a thing for powerful men.”

  “Ah.”

  He hopped out and threw on his suit coat before coming around to open Stella’s door. Grabbing their bags from the trunk they barely fit inside, he escorted her through the glass door and into an underground labyrinth of concrete tunnels.

  Stella’s eyes climbed the thick walls, a heavy chill hanging in the air. Her heels echoed against the concrete with each sluggish step. “You have your own bomb shelter?”

  His laughter ricocheted off the cold walls and slipped down the tunnel ahead of them. “Also works well for tornados,” he said, leading them through a metal door that opened up into a cavernous lobby that looked more like an art gallery than anything else. Long, brightly painted canvases stretched from floor to ceiling, pulling the eye to the magnificent glass chandelier hovering above a circular desk planted in the middle of the spacious room. Stella’s eyes fell to the attractive brunette sitting behind the desk. The woman’s posture was impeccable, giving her plump breasts a lift they certainly didn’t need. Despite the sunshine streaming through the room’s large glass panels, it was as cool as the woman’s smile on her face.

  “Good to see you again, Mr. Weathers,” she said, eyes robotically assessing Stella.

  Without slowing, Roman flashed her a warm smile. “Violet.”

  Stella grimaced and straightened her leather coat, heels clicking across the marble floor to the elevators across the way. She slowed down to match his steady steps and tossed a fleeting look over her shoulder. Violet? Suddenly she felt out of her league. Who can compete with a pretty Violet? Stella lifted her chin and remembered who she was. She may be from a small town but this wasn’t her first rodeo, far from it. Trading a coy glance with Roman as he pressed a button against the far wall, the stainless steel doors opened with a soft ding. They stepped into the empty car, designed with a minimalist aspect that left it feeling modern and lonely. Roman punched the top button and Stella barely felt the car begin its ascent. With no Muzak, they shared a quiet smile, eyes touching beneath the dim elevator lights. Stella took a slow breath, trying to calm her nerves. So far, she was impressed. Maybe a little too impressed.

  Roman leaned against a spotless silver wall and stuffed his hands inside the pockets of his slacks, staring at her shoes out the corner of his eye. Stella swallowed her apprehension, determined to belong. This life spoke to her as much as Roman’s heart. It was frightening mixed with a dash of intrigue. The elevator came to a gentle rest, another faint ding rattling her anxiety. The doors parted and they stepped into a concrete hallway decorated with a small seating area. Sunbeams streamed through the glass windows at an angle, illuminating the leather furniture and flowery artwork lining the walls. Roman crossed through a stripe of sunlight and stopped in front of another set of elevator doors with no buttons for up and down. He looked at her, the ghost of a grin brushing the corners of his mouth, and held a silver card up to a scanner in the wall. Obediently, the light flicked from red to green and the silver doors opened. They stepped inside and Roman loosened his tie as the elevator began to rise.

  Stella bent an eyebrow. “Who are you, James Bond?”

  A short laugh escaped him. “Usually by the time I actually get into my condo I’m too tired to do anything.”

  She fought back her giddy excitement, trying not to fidget. Two elevators? Damn. This was going to be good and it made her antsy with anticipation. He watched her, the smile shaping his lips proof he was taking delight in her star struck eyes. Stella watched the digital numbers tick past, fueling her exhilaration one floor at a time. She bit back a laugh as the car continued to climb. How fucking tall was this building anyway? Were they flying?

  The elevator chimed, signaling the end of time for wandering questions. She stared at the doors, willing them to open, pulse thudding in the crook of her neck. Roman’s silence made the hairs on her arms go up. She shifted in her stance and stared at th
e doors, feeling his gaze on her. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the metal doors pulled apart, moving much too slowly for Stella’s liking.

  Her heart beat out of rhythm.

  Her eyes grew wide.

  Roman swept an arm out. “After you.”

  Wide eyed, she stepped foot into the condo and tipped her head back to view the cathedral ceiling above. The size was overwhelming, leaving her small and insignificant. Lazily, her heels clicked against the concrete floors, eyes jerking to the tall buildings looming just outside the floor to ceiling windows. In a daze, she passed a white staircase and some thin furniture with straight lines, pulled to the majestic view bordering both sides of the living room. It was breathtaking and she reminded herself to breathe. Outside of three nearby skyscrapers, Roman’s living room hovered above downtown like a king on a throne, watching over the ant-like citizens below. In the building across the way, people fluttered about the rows of offices like bees in a hive, eager to call it a day. One office at a time, lights began to flicker off, giving the building a toothless smile.

  She tossed him a look over her shoulder. “I bet it’s a bitch finding curtains.”

  Roman laughed and deposited their gear onto a long black couch that looked unused. He crossed the room, dress shoes slapping against the polished floor, and took a remote control from a glass coffee table. He held it up to her, and when he pressed a button the panel windows darkened, blotting out the dropping sun and bringing to life the tiny lights on the entertainment center pressed into the wall.

  “Wow,” Stella muttered, barely able to see her own hand in front of her face. She started laughing. “Electrochromic glass.”

  “Ah, you know your smart windows.” There was another click and the windows cleared, letting in the outside world once again. “Cost more than the damn condo itself.” He darkened the windows again and then cleared them. “I do this all day.”

  Her eyes adjusted to the light and roamed the buildings towering outside, watching the sun glance off their westerly windows. “You sure you’re not a drug lord or something?”

  “In a way I am.” He set the remote down and took off his suit coat. “A lot of people are addicted to plastic surgery but we don’t let our clients go past a certain number of procedures within a given amount of time.” He tossed his coat on the couch and pulled his tie off. “Some of them go elsewhere to satisfy their cravings behind our back.” He helped her from her coat and she shivered without it. The glass and concrete – combined with an obvious lack of a woman’s touch – left the place cold and unapproachable. It was too nice, and too clean, like one of those living rooms in a magazine that would be impossible to relax in.

  With the same remote, Roman turned on the fireplace. Flames sprung to life inside, dancing to the same jittery beat of her heart.

  “It’s so nice” she said, scanning the open kitchen for signs of use. “And clean.” She turned to face him with pity filled eyes. “You were really slumming at the Morning Dove Inn, weren’t you?”

  Laughing, he unbuttoned his dress shirt a little. “Unfortunately, you don’t get to pick where your car breaks down…but I’m glad it did.”

  She smiled up at him. “So am I.”

  After grabbing two beers from the fridge, Roman took her to a sliding glass door. “Check this out,” he said, pulling it open and letting in the wind. She took his hand and let him lead her out onto a long and narrow balcony, the wind whipping through her hair, eyeing the jaw dropping view from a distance. “Oh my God,” she laughed.

  “Come look over the edge,” he said, towing her to a chrome railing.

  Stella dug her heels into the concrete and yanked her hand back. “I’m afraid of heights.”

  His smile stretched wider than she’d seen before. He gestured with his hand. “Don’t make me carry you over here.”

  Bloodstream pumping, she inched forward with the wind rushing up into her face, stealing her breath. She tried not to spill her beer, letting out a light shriek when her hand finally found the cold metal rail. Roman pulled her against him, his heat penetrating her thin yellow top.

  Her smile pulled back into her cheeks. They were on top of the world and it was wonderful. “You must lose a lot of napkins out here!” she said over the blustery air.

  “Look straight down.”

  Stella focused on the tall building a block over. “No way.

  “You can do it.”

  She shook her ponytail and dug her nails into the railing, keeping her eyes aimed straight ahead.

  “Stella,” he said into her ear, “I’m right here. I won’t ever let anything happen to you.”

  She turned to search his eyes for veracity, squinting into the wind. She believed him and filled her lungs, gripping the railing like she was about to take that first plunge on a rollercoaster. Pulse thumping, her eyes inched over the silver railing. Her stomach fell with her gaze down the side of the shiny building to the bustling street below where the cars and buses looked like toys. “Oh my God,” she gasped, staggering back a few quick steps.

  Roman laughed hard, his hair blowing wildly in the wind. “Remind me to take you ziplining sometime.”

  “No thanks.”

  He took her hand and pulled her back inside out of the wind. Roman slid the heavy glass door shut, plunging them back into a cold silence, their racing breath the only sound in the room. “I have never seen your eyes get so big.”

  “I’m never going out there again.”

  He took her hand. “Wait until you see this,” he said, leading her across the room and up the white staircase by the elevator doors.

  “Where are you taking me now?”

  “It’s a surprise.” At the top of the stairs, they crossed a small sitting room, with white carpeting and black furniture, to a red metal door on the other side. He looked back with a wily grin before pushing the door open and letting the wind inside.

  “What, no thumbprint scanner?” she said, following him outside. Her eyes bulged when she saw the narrow lap pool and lavish patio furniture. Roman led her across the huge, and unoccupied, rooftop patio, stopping at an L-shaped bar with two beer taps and a flat screen TV tucked under a red canopy. Stella did circles with her mouth open and the sun in her eyes. “Wow, an infinity Jacuzzi?”

  Her bubbly tone brought a smile to his lips.

  She turned to him, using her hand to shield the sun. “This place must get busy.”

  “Busy?”

  “With other tenants.”

  He frowned and took a sip of his beer.

  Stella laughed. “This is all yours?”

  His eyes followed hers around the expansive space. “All mine.”

  She soaked it in, her confidence shrinking with the sun making him glow.

  “Maybe when it gets dark we fire it up and toast the town,” he said, leaning over and kissing her softly on the cheek. “I hope you brought your swimsuit.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Good.”

  She followed his gaze out over downtown, soaring like an eagle around the tall buildings and church steeples poking through the trees.

  Roman crossed over to the edge and leaned against another chrome railing. “Come take a look.”

  “No thanks,” she said, heart rate increasing at just the thought of it.

  The wind whisked his laughter over the edge. He walked over and took her hand. “Don’t worry, I won’t force you. Come on.” Roman escorted her back inside, where the heat wrapped them in a warm embrace. “Hungry?” he asked, using the same remote to turn on some music.

  “A little.” Stella took a seat on the firm couch and crossed her legs, letting her eyes roam his few things. Her silence drew his eyes.

  “Everything okay?”

  She nodded and took a long drink of her beer, straining to let her intimidation get the best of her. She had told him too much and it made her grimace. Suddenly, she wasn’t sure which embarrassed her more: Her blubbering confession about her mom and Vicky,
or the fight she caused at Tulipfest. Stella avoided his eyes, watching the gas flames dance with the slow music raining down from the recessed speakers in the walls.

  Roman sat down next to her and set a hand on her thigh. “What’s your favorite kind of pizza?”

  Her eyebrows knitted together.

  “You didn’t know I make the best pizza in town?”

  “I did not.”

  He got up and went into the kitchen. “My grandmother’s secret recipe.”

  She spun around and leaned against the back of the couch, watching him wash his hands. “You’re serious?”

  “As a heart attack,” he said, drying his hands on a towel and then preheating the oven. “Nonny Rosa owned a small pizzeria on the north side with my grandpa back in the fifties and sixties.”

  “Nonny Rosa?”

  He smiled and set a red mixing bowl on the island between them. “My grandparents on my father’s side were Italian immigrants.”

  “Well, now you’ve got my expectations up.”

  “I do my best work under pressure.” He leaned both hands on the island. “What’s your favorite?”

  She narrowed her gaze. “Pepperoni and green olive.”

  Roman’s eyes widened. “Mine too!”

  “Seriously?”

  “No, I’m more of a sausage and mushroom kind of guy,” he said flatly, retrieving a bag of flour with a smirk pressed into his face.

  Stella kicked her shoes off and watched him work. “Do you ever get…”

  “All the time,” he said, adding flour and salt to the bowl. “The lake house is a lot different, more cozy. I think I prefer it to this place.”

  Her eyes climbed the walls to the ceiling. “It’s just so big.”

  “Small has never been my strongpoint.”

  Her gaze fell to the glimmer flashing in his eyes. “No, it hasn’t.”

  “When my dad saw this place, he thought I was being an arrogant ass. He’s probably right, but my mom likes it. She uses the lap pool whenever I’m out of town.”

  “They live here in town?”