“What do you mean?”
Finally, I have her attention!
“I like you, Avery. A lot.”
Luckily, there’s a red light. I turn to face her.
“I like you a lot. You don’t know me very well, but I never say that. Never.”
“I don’t want to date someone who has a baby momma,” she whispers, turning to face me.
“I know,” I shrug. “I wouldn’t either, but there’s nothing I can do about that right now.”
We turn onto Topanga Canyon Boulevard and disappear into the hills.
“What do you want me to say?” she asks.
“Nothing. I just want you to know that I felt something in that kiss we shared. I felt a lot. And I’d like to see you again. And I’m sorry about what happened with my ex. But I have no interest in being with her, regardless of what happens with the baby.”
“What are you going to do if it’s yours?” she asks.
“I’m going to step up and be part of its life. I’m going to see the baby and build a relationship. I don’t love the idea – don’t get me wrong – but I don’t want my child to grow up without a father. Especially, when I can easily participate in his or her life.”
Honestly, I didn’t know that’s how I felt until this very moment. Goosebumps run down my arms at even the thought of being a father. But that’s the right thing to do. I know it.
I don’t say anything else the rest of the way. Neither does she. I do look over at her occasionally, though, and I feel her stealing the occasional glance at me as well.
I pull into the parking lot by her apartment and park next to the only other car in the lot, her Prius. She gets out of the car, and I follow.
“You don’t need to walk to me to the door,” Avery says.
“I know,” I say, following her. I’m not sure if my presence is welcomed, but I’m trying my best to make up for the wrecked night.
When we reach her door, she turns to face me. I take a step forward. We’re so close to each other, I can feel and smell her peppermint breath on my lips. If she didn’t want me this close, she could take a step back. But she doesn’t.
“I’m sorry about tonight,” I whisper. I lean closer to her. At first, her eyes look past me, somewhere in the distance, but a moment later, they meet mine.
“I’m sorry too,” she whispers.
I don’t know what that means. Does she want to see me again but won’t because of what happened? Or does that mean that she’s just generally sorry about what occurred?
“Can I call you?” I ask.
She doesn’t reply. It’s now or never. Just go for it, I say to myself. I press my lips to her lips and bring her closer to me. At first, she doesn’t respond. But then, the moment takes over, and she kisses me back. I push her against her apartment door, cradle her head in my hands. I let my hands run up and down her body. I’m pleased when she doesn’t stop me. A few moments later, I pull away.
“Can I call you?” I ask again.
She’s breathless. After a few moments, her eyes manage to focus on mine.
“Yes,” she whispers and gives me another little kiss on the lips. “Against my better judgment, yes,” she adds.
I smile as she opens the door to her apartment. I want her to invite me in. I pray and hope for it, but I’m not surprised when it doesn’t happen.
“You better call,” Avery says and waves good-bye, before closing the door in my face. I nod and smile. I’m definitely going to call. This isn’t some empty promise that I typically make other girls. Avery is different. So different, in fact, it’s frightening me. I walk back to my car with shivers running down my spine. What is this? Anxiety? Fear? I’ve never felt this way about another person before. I don’t know whether I want to curse Aunt Dolly for matching us or give her a huge tip. What the fuck is going on? I turn up Guns ‘n Roses and race back down to Malibu in a state of awe.
Chapter 13 - Avery
The following morning, I tell Cynthia everything that happened over our Starbucks coffee. I don’t hold anything back. I tell her the good and the bad, and about these crazy feelings that I have developed for Logan during just one date.
“He’s kind of a dick. You should’ve seen how he looked at my apartment – like he felt sorry for me – but then he’s sweet. You should’ve heard what he said to his brother in his engagement speech.”
“But he’s having a baby? With his ex?”
“Yes, that is a problem.’
“But it may not be his,” Cynthia says.
“It may not. But it may be, and I don’t know if I need that kind of drama in my life.”
“On the other hand, it’s his ex, and he doesn’t seem to like her very much. How much drama could it be? So he’ll pay child support and see the kid every other weekend. That’s not too bad. Plus, it’ll show you what kind of dad he can be.”
I choke on my coffee, burning the roof of my mouth.
“We had one date! Are you really talking about his future potential as a father?”
“Hey, one date is all it takes.”
“What do you mean?”
“One of these days, you’re going to go on a date with someone who you’ll end up spending the rest of your life with. It may be Logan, it may not. But you don’t know,” Cynthia says.
“You’re freaking me out,” I say. “Why didn’t you get any muffins? I want a muffin.”
“Oh, I forgot. No worries, the bakery across the street has way yummier ones.” She grabs her wallet and heads toward the door.
“No, I was just kidding,” I say. “You don’t have to get me a muffin. I’ll get one later.”
“It’s fine,” Cynthia says. “I really want one too. I’ll be right back.”
I’m left alone surrounded by a sea of flowers. One of the things I love most about flowers is that, no matter how alone I am, their presence always brings me comfort. Especially daffodils and daisies. They aren’t the fanciest flowers by a long shot, hardly anyone requests them for bouquets, let alone centerpieces, but they are the friendliest. Whenever I look at them, I can’t help but smile. They’re a constant reminder that everything will be okay. The world isn’t such a bad place, as long as daffodils and daisies continue to flourish.
There’s a knock on the door. Cynthia’s hands must be too full with muffins and coffee to open it herself. I head toward the door, but it opens before I get there.
“Hello Avery,” he says in his sultry voice. Cold shivers run down my spine. I’m still clutching a loose bouquet of daffodils and daises, which I was just enjoying. Only now, I’m grasping it, squeezing the life out of it.
“Cal,” I whisper. “What are you doing here?”
My voice breaks a little at his name. My mouth runs dry. I take a deep breath and finish the question with strength. He can’t see me wither.
“I wanted to see you. I miss you,” he says. He’s shorter than Logan, but still much taller than I am. He recently got a buzz cut, which makes him look even more menacing.
“You can’t be here,” I say.
“I know, but this girl I was with broke up with me, and it made me realize how much I’ve missed you.” Cal comes closer to me. Much too close. I back away.
“You were seeing someone?” I ask. Perhaps there’s hope that he can be someone else’s problem now. Not that I want some other unsuspecting girl to have a stalker, I just don’t want him stalking me anymore.
“I know, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have. But after you took out that restraining order on me, what could I do? Will you forgive me?”
What. The. Fuck?
“You can’t be here,” I say in the most confident and self-assured voice that I can manage to muster. “The restraining order is still in effect.”
Suddenly, I’m backed against the wall. Freshly cut tulips press into the back of my head. Cal leans close to me, putting his hand on the wall behind the tulips. The only thing that’s separating us is the bouquet of daffodils and daisies, I hold in my ex
tended hand as if it were a weapon. We’re so close that his significant beer belly presses against them, pushing their heads toward the floor. Not a great weapon.
“I miss you,” he whispers. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see that his arms are stronger now than they were before. More defined. He has started to work out. His bicep flexes a couple of times and my knees grow weak. I’m not sure I can hold myself up for much longer.
“What are you doing here?” Cynthia marches into the store. Her authoritative voice makes both Cal and I flinch. “You can’t be here. She has a restraining order out against you. I’m calling the police.”
“I was just checking in with my girl,” Cal says, backing away from me.
“Well, she doesn’t want you checkin’ in. You’re lucky that you’re not in jail right now doing time for assault,” Cynthia says, taking out her phone. “I’m calling the police.”
“Fine, fine, I’m leaving,” Cal says. “I miss you, Avery. Call me.”
I let out a big sigh of relief when the door shuts closed behind him. I find the nearest chair and collapse into it.
“Yes, hello? I need someone to come out to make a report about a violation of a restraining order…No, he’s not here anymore. He just left,” Cynthia says and gives the police our address.
“What are you doing?” I ask when she hangs up.
“The police will be here within the hour. They said that you have to report each violation of the restraining order. And that’s what we’re doing.”
I’m so happy that she’s here. Not just for making Cal leave, but also for calling the cops. I’m not sure I’d have the strength to follow up as quickly as she had. All the adrenaline pumping through my body has vanished, and I feel too weak to utter a single word.
‘Thank you,’ I mouth.
* * *
A couple of days later, Dolly and I meet for lunch to discuss the date – to conduct a post-mortem, of a sort. She had called the day after the engagement, right after Cal left, but I was in no mood to talk. I even asked Cynthia to text her back for me and schedule something for later in the week.
I meet her in her office. She’s dressed in a loose-fitting light pink pant suit, which she pulls off marvelously. It hugs her in all the right places and does not make her short legs look stubby, which is almost always the case with me. It’s probably all the heels, I decide. In addition to her gigantic diamond wedding set, she’s also wearing a diamond ring on the right ring finger. It’s in the shape of a bow tie, and she’s wearing it right at the tip of her nail, near the first knuckle.
“I love your ring,” I say. “I’ve never seen a knuckle ring like that.”
“Oh, thank you for noticing,” she extends her hand so I can get a closer look. “It’s a new creation by this talented young designer out of Santa Barbara. It’s part of her very first collection, coming out this summer. It’s not available anywhere yet.”
I nod. For a second, it feels like she’s actually telling me all of this because I might go out and get one. As if it’s something that she got at Target, and it’s actually something I can afford. When I glance back up at her, I know that she’s not showing off one bit. She’s simply sharing, because I had showed an interest.
“I’m going to make myself a cup of hot chocolate. Real dark chocolate, nothing instant. You interested?” Dolly walks up to her coffee machine.
“Yes, sure,” I nod.
“I’ve had the best hot chocolate one time when I was in Tulum, Mexico. This tiny Mayan woman ran this little stand on a street corner, and it was the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted. I was looking through some of my old travel pictures this morning and was reminded of it, so I thought I’d give it a shot.”
She hands me a photo album titled “Tulum.”
“This was only a few years ago, so all of my pictures came from my phone, but I’m an old fashioned one. There’s nothing like looking at photos in a photo album,” Dolly says as I flip through her pictures. The photos are gorgeous – Instagram quality. Beautiful cliffs and ruins running into the bluest water I’ve ever seen.
A few minutes later, when I’m 100% certain that my next vacation – if I can ever manage a week away from the shop – will be to Tulum, she hands me my cup of hot chocolate. It’s dark and rich and flows as if it were lava. I take a sip. Wow. Dolly has upped her drink game. If her cappuccinos were simply delicious, her hot chocolate is heavenly.
“This is amazing,” I say, taking two more quick sips. It’s so good, I’d be done with the cup already, if it weren’t so hot.
“Yes, it is quite good, isn’t it?” she says, taking a sip. “Not quite like in Tulum, but very good.”
“You must’ve had a blast on this trip,” I say.
“Tulum was one of the last cities built and inhabited by Maya between the 13th and 15th centuries. They called it Zama, the City of Dawn, because it’s on a bluff facing east. If you only ever see one sunrise in your life, it should be in Tulum.”
“You’re making me jealous,” I say. “I’d love to go there someday.”
“It just so happens that I heard that you made quite an impression at the engagement party.”
Oh that. I sit back down in my seat.
“And not just on Logan. Also on the bride and groom to be.”
I nod.
“I liked Kora and Liam a lot too.”
“Well, they liked you so much that Kora called me a few days ago and asked for your address. She’s sending you an invitation to her wedding. In Tulum.”
I stare at her. I can’t go to the wedding! But it is in Tulum. A great excuse. No, focus. Don’t get distracted. You can’t go to this wedding.
“Why didn’t you tell me that you were his aunt?” I ask Dolly. I catch her off-guard. I want to see her squirm, but she barely blinks.
“I don’t tell the women very much about the men before the date. It’s one of my policies. But between you and me, it’s because I’ve never set Logan up on any dates before. He’s not really my client. Just my nephew. He has never asked me to set him up before. In fact, I had to fight him on it.”
“Why did you?”
“Because I had the sneaking suspicion that you two were perfect for each other. The minute that you stormed out of my office when I asked you about net-worth.”
“So you know what happened?” I ask. “On our date?”
“Yes, Logan has filled me on the details. But now I need to hear it from you.”
“Did he tell you about his ex, Sadie? That she’s pregnant?”
“Yes, he did mention that part.”
“So? What am I supposed to do with that? I can’t go out with someone who has a baby.”
“That’s very judgmental of you,” Dolly says.
“I don’t know anything about babies.”
“You don’t have to. Besides, he doesn’t have a baby now. It might not be his, and even if it were, that’s not an issue for at least eight more months. Enough time for you and Logan to go on another date and figure out how you feel about one another.”
I shake my head. When she puts it that way, it doesn’t sound like a big deal. So, why does it feel like it is?
“What did Logan say?” I ask.
“I can’t tell you that,” she shakes her head. “You need to tell me how you feel about him first.”
I take a deep breath. Finish the last bit of my hot chocolate. “I thought he was a dick, at first. But then, I liked him. He’s a very good kisser.”
Dolly smiles with her whole body. Her brilliant white teeth nearly blind me.
“Ah! I knew it,” Dolly says.
“But I can’t go to this wedding,” I say.
“Just think about it.”
Chapter 14 - Avery
The following day, a kid who looks like he is barely old enough to drive shows up in the floral shop. It’s too early for prom and too late for a winter formal.
“May I help you?” I ask, waiting for him to ask me to pick out a bouquet for h
im for his girlfriend.
“I have this box for you but you need to sign for it.”
“Oh okay,” I nod. He’s a messenger. I look outside. There’s no FedEx or UPS truck out there, and he’s definitely not from the US Postal service. For a second, my heart drops to my stomach. What if this is something from Cal?
“Can you wait here for a second while I open it?” I ask. And then realize that if this is a bomb, then it would be all my fault that he would die along with me.
Luckily, it’s not. Inside the package, I find an invitation that has been carved into a thin piece of birch tree. It’s about cardboard-thickness and, at the top, there are L + K with a heart around them.
“Can I go now?” the kid asks me. I had forgotten that he was still here! I give him a small tip and he leaves.
I pick up Liam and Kora’s wedding invitation. I guess Dolly was right. I did make an impression. The wedding is in a month, and I have to let them know my decision as soon as possible. What is my decision?
If I go to the wedding, then I’ll definitely see Logan there, and that’s not necessarily a bad thing. We have texted a lot over the last few days, but it never really went further than that. He didn’t ask me out again, and I didn’t initiate anything either. Texting is the safe thing to do. I don’t have to see his beautiful eyes. I don’t have to say no in person, and if he asks me out again, it’s easier to say no in a text.
I hear a little ring. Someone opens the door to the shop. I put the invitation away and gather my thoughts. I can’t just obsess over Logan all the time. I have a job to do here.
“Logan?” I ask.
He stands before me, looking straight into my soul.
“Hi,” he says, coming closer. He looks down at his feet and then back at me. I find this display of vulnerability utterly charming.
“I thought I’d give texting a rest for a bit,” he announces. I nod. I look him up and down. He’s dressed in a pair of tight light blue shorts that accentuate the tightness of his perfect butt. The lightweight, loose, button-down shirt is buttoned only half way down his chest, exposing his hard, tan pectoral muscles. I’m not sure how he looks hotter – in a suit or in flip-flops. Both are very easy on the eyes.
Auctioned to Him 4: His Addiction Page 46
