Blind Girl: A Dark Billionaire Romance

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Blind Girl: A Dark Billionaire Romance Page 12

by Kiss, Tabatha


  “What’s gotten into you?” I ask with a chuckle.

  We enter the kitchen and I catch my first sight of my mother’s mystery man. His back is to me, his face obscured behind the door of the refrigerator.

  “Oh, good, honey!” my mother says. “Will you grab the wine?”

  I breathe an involuntary laugh. “Honey?” I repeat.

  He turns around with the red bottle already in hand. His forest green eyes lock on mine, penetrating me completely — the way they always did before.

  “As you wish, my darling,” he says.

  And just like that, I’m eighteen again. My hands are bound to a large bed by thick, gray ties. A blood-red blindfold covers my eyes. I can do nothing but listen for Charles’ voice in the darkness, unable to see what’s coming next.

  Chapter 10

  We Met in the City

  “It’s nice to finally meet you, Alice.”

  My body goes stiff. Cold blood runs through my veins.

  Charles Kent is standing in my mother’s kitchen.

  “It’s nice to meet you, too.” My voice comes out so quiet, I can barely hear myself speak. Charles reaches for me and takes my hand, which I now realize I extended out in greeting, although I don’t recall doing so.

  “I’ve heard many good things about you,” he says.

  “I wish I could say the same about you,” I say. I search his eyes with discretion. They show no indication of our past together. For a moment, I think it all a big joke, a twisted doppelganger sent by fate to throw me off, but I feel his warm skin and my body remembers his touch. I fight the urge to swoon over him as I glance down his body, clad in a perfectly pressed white button down shirt and black trousers.

  His fingers fall from my grasp and my hand lingers in the air for too long before I pull it back down to my side.

  “Yes, that’s all my fault!” my mother says as she steps over to him. Charles moves his arm around her and a pain strikes my chest. “I’m afraid she didn’t know about your existence until this morning.”

  “That’s all right,” Charles says. “It’ll give us something to talk about over dinner.” His eyes land on Percy. “And you must be the artist.”

  It makes my ears twitch. His inflection on the word, detectable to no one but myself, hidden within the quiet corners of his voice. The artist.

  Percy smiles as they shake hands. “Yes, sir. Percy White.”

  “Charles Kent.”

  I take a quick step back. “Well, we should get our bags in before it gets dark.” I nudge Percy’s arm.

  “Dinner in fifteen minutes!” my mother calls out.

  “Okay!” I spin around and walk across the house to the front door.

  “This is a really nice house,” Percy notes as we step outside.

  I fill my lungs with fresh air. “Yeah,” I say.

  “It was just the two of you growing up?” he asks as he pops the trunk.

  I reach in for my suitcase and nod. “Just the two of us,” I confirm. “Mom was always a pretty independent woman.”

  “Well, I see where you get it from,” he smiles. “And what say you on Charles?”

  “Charles…” I taste his name after all of these years and detect a hint of battery acid on my tongue. “He’s… not what I expected.”

  Percy closes the trunk and we walk back to the house. My feet feel heavy, holding me back as the fear of facing Charles again shakes me to the core. “He seems like he’s done some good for your mom,” he notes. “She didn’t seem so happy the last time I saw her.”

  I say nothing. I can’t deny that it may be true and it makes my skin crawl. Charles. She said they’ve been together for a month. He’s had thirty days to dig into her, to get close.

  To find me again.

  “Hey—” I reach out and grab his arm before we reach the front door and lower my voice to just above a whisper. “Let’s keep our engagement quiet tonight,” I say.

  He pauses and furrows his brow. “Really?” he asks. “You were so excited to tell her.”

  “I know, but…” I look back at the house, sensing his eyes on me. “With this new guy here and whatnot, I don’t want to steal her thunder, you know?” It’s the best I can do in my panic, but I breathe easy as Percy nods in understanding.

  “I get it,” he says. “Yeah, sure.”

  “Maybe tomorrow morning? At breakfast?” I suggest.

  “Sure. Whatever you want.”

  “You’re not mad?” I ask him.

  “Of course not,” he laughs as he pulls me in to land a kiss on my forehead.

  I breathe a sigh of relief to calm my nerves before stepping back inside, but there’s little I can do to calm my racing heart.

  Charles Kent.

  I scratch at my palm. I can still feel his touch. It radiates up my arm, igniting my goosebumps in ways I haven’t felt in ages.

  ***

  “We met in the city,” my mother begins.

  I glance across the table at Charles. “What were you doing in the city, Mom?” I ask her. I push a bit of salad across my plate with a fork.

  “I had a doctor’s appointment — I told you about this,” she says to me. “Remember? The chiropractor.” She grabs her wine glass and takes a sip. I nod. “Anyway, afterward,” she continues, “I stopped to grab a cup of coffee downtown and as I went to leave with it, I ran smack into Charles on his way inside!”

  “Really?” I smile. “You met in a coffee shop?” My eyes find Charles and he doesn’t even blink.

  “Yes,” he says. “She spilled the whole thing on me!” The entire table laughs, Percy included. I play along. “Then,” Charles says, “she insisted on paying for mine. I told her no, it wasn’t necessary. Dreadful woman, I couldn’t make her go away.” He smiles at her from across the table. She smiles back. “But I’m happy she didn’t.”

  “Wow,” I say. “Of all the coffee shops in the city, you just happened to stumble into each other in the same one at the same time. That’s quite the coincidence.”

  Charles looks at me. “Yes, it was,” he says.

  “Hey, it’s not that different from how we met,” Percy says with a pat on my shoulder. “People stumble upon each other all the time, especially in the city.”

  I can almost read Charles’ mind. Of all the hotels in the city and you stumbled into mine…

  “It’s been pretty incredible,” my mother says. Her smile gives it all away. She stares at Charles as I once did and I know she’s head over heels.

  Charles leans forward with his eyes on Percy. “And how did the two of you meet? I don’t believe Diana has mentioned that.”

  Percy turns to look at me. I make a silent wish for time to stand still, for a fairy godmother to arrive and get me out of this mess.

  “She modeled for me.”

  But magic does not exist.

  A light shines behind Charles’ eyes. “You model, Alice?” he asks me.

  My cheeks feel pink. “Just once. It was… nothing,” I stutter. “He needed girls for a school project—”

  “And I saw her,” Percy interrupts, “standing on a street corner downtown at three in the morning, trying to hail a cab.”

  I close my eyes and attempt to hide away in the darkness and protect myself from Charles’ amused glare. It’s there, just beyond the dim. It can feel it chasing me.

  “I instantly felt this…” Percy pauses, searching his vocabulary for the perfect word, “heat, which was odd because it was less than twenty degrees outside. It was all around her. I walk over to introduce myself because I just can’t not meet this girl, and before I can even open my mouth, she looks at me and says, ‘what the hell do you want?’”

  My mother laughs with Percy. I slowly raise my eyelids and see Charles staring into me. For a brief moment, he looks at me the way he used to look at me. “That’s quite the story,” he says.

  “After I explained who I was and what I wanted, her hostility decreased — somewhat,” Percy jokes, “but then she wouldn�
��t agree to model for me unless she got paid.” He leans over and grips my hand under the table.

  Charles notices.

  “It’s like I always told her,” my mother adds. “Never give away your time for free to those who can afford it.”

  “Sound advice, Diana,” Charles laughs.

  “I have the photo from the shoot around here somewhere,” my mother says as she pulls her napkin from her lap and tosses it onto the table.

  “Mom—” I interject, “please — you don’t have to show it right now.”

  “Oh, it’ll only take a second.”

  I sigh and settle farther down into my chair as she scurries from the room.

  “I’m sure it’s lovely, Alice,” Charles assures me with a grin.

  “It is,” Percy adds. “The project itself was ridiculously cliche — The Seven Deadly Sins — but I managed a good grade from it.”

  Charles stares at me as he asks, although it’s clear he already knows the answer to his question, “and what sin did you represent, Alice?”

  “Lust,” Percy answers.

  “Here we go.” My mother returns and lays the portfolio down next to Charles’ plate. I see the photograph lying prominently on top. A stunning red corset locks me in place against a bleak backdrop of fiery red and black flames.

  “My word…” Charles picks up the portfolio. His eyes feast on every detail of my pose. “This is exquisite work. You two seem like quite the creative team.”

  My teeth chatter together behind my lips. Gentle vibrations course through my veins, anger seething just below the surface. Charles is toying with me. I want to scream at him and find out why he’s really here, but I can do nothing but smile politely. “Yes, we do,” I say.

  My mother returns to her seat. “It’s rather tame compared to his more recent work,” she says as she lays her napkin back into her lap.

  Percy beams. “But not nearly as interesting,” he says.

  “Our definitions of the word sit at opposite ends of the spectrum, Percy,” she retorts with a grin and they share a laugh.

  “I believe I’ve missed the joke,” Charles says.

  “Nudes,” my mother sneers.

  Charles’ eyes once again fall on me, but only for a split second. “Is that right?” he asks Percy.

  “They’re tasteful, I assure you,” he says. “I like to joke that Diana despises my erotic work on principal alone.”

  “And I,” my mother responds, “cannot confirm — nor deny — the assumption.”

  Charles laughs and looks between myself and Percy. “Have the two of you collaborated on these as well?”

  “Absolutely not!” my mother says as she glares at me.

  I breathe a laugh. “Oh, no,” I lie, shaking my head. “I’m retired.”

  “You better be.” She raises an eyebrow at me.

  “There’s good money in fine erotica,” Charles says as he raises his glass to Percy.

  A phantom tug pulls at my wrists as I remember them bound above my head. Naked and blindfolded, I hear the soft shutter sound in the darkness.

  Click. Click.

  “Actually,” I say, clearing my throat. “That’s the news I mentioned before, Mom. Percy sold his most recent portraits last week.”

  “You’re kidding!” she says. “Percy, that’s wonderful. Congratulations.”

  “Thank you, Diana,” Percy replies. “We finalized the sale last week, and for much more than the original asking price.”

  “That’s good news,” Charles says as he sips his wine. “I’m sure you’re very proud of him, Alice.”

  I stare him down. “Yes, I am.”

  He smiles at me and nods his head.

  ***

  “I said you didn’t have to wash the dishes, Alice,” my mother says as she stands behind me.

  I shrug my shoulders and focus on the warm water pooling into the sink. “I wanted to,” I say. “You two cooked, after all.” I glance back at Charles to find his gaze lingering on me from his seat at the table.

  My mother grabs a clean dish rag from the drawer next to the sink and starts to dry the dishes lying stacked in the drying wrack. “So, this buyer,” she begins, keeping her voice low, “I didn’t want to come right out and ask, but did Percy get a good amount from the sale?”

  I nod. “A really good amount. It should keep us afloat for the rest of the year, I think.”

  “Good,” she says. She reaches above us and deposits a dry glass into the cabinet. “And your book. Is it still selling?”

  “A little bit,” I say. “Things have slowed down, but I have another one almost finished and I have the job at the diner to fill in any gaps until then.”

  “Good girl,” she smiles. “It’s like I always told you… Never give a man the opportunity to say, ‘You wouldn’t have this if it weren’t for me.’”

  “I know, Mom.”

  “Mind if I cut in?”

  I turn to see Percy rolling up his sleeves. “Sure,” I say. I step out of the way and dry my hands as he fishes his hands into the water for a soaked plate.

  “Oh, Percy,” my mother coos. “You’re so helpful.”

  “I do my best.” He hands her the clean plate and she dries it quickly.

  Charles stands up from the table. “If you’ll all excuse me,” he says. “I need to make a phone call.”

  “Go right ahead,” my mother says.

  I watch him cross the room. His footsteps echo through the house until he opens the front door and steps outside.

  I move over to the garbage bin. “This is looking pretty full,” I say. I grab the bag and pull it out of the can. “I’ll take it out.”

  “You don’t have to do that, Alice.”

  “I want to, Mom,” I grin at her.

  “You know, Percy,” my mother mutters at him, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “I don’t know where she gets the uncontrollable urge to be useful all the time. I taught her to rely on others to take care of her but she insists on rebelling at every possible moment.”

  Percy laughs.

  I take the side door out and find the large trash bin at the edge of the garage. His shadow catches my eye, pacing around at the end of the driveway. A soft voice murmurs on the wind, seducing my ears to perk up and take notice of him. I tie off the bag and drop it into the bin.

  “Have the group reschedule for Wednesday.” His words begin to form meaning as I wander closer to him. He notices me halfway down the driveway and watches me closely until I stop in front of him. “I’ll have to call you back later, Frank. Send me everything you have to my email for tomorrow,” he says, his eyes locked on me. He lowers the phone from his ear and slides it into his back pocket. His face glows a soft orange, illuminated by the street lamp standing tall above the neighbor’s house. We stare at each other for a silent moment as the cicadas play their music around us.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” I ask.

  “I’m making a business call,” he says.

  “You know what I mean, Charles. What are you doing here?”

  He inhales deep. “It’s nice to see you again, Alice.”

  “You don’t look at all surprised about it.”

  “Your and Diana’s relation was just as surprising to me as it is to you.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t believe for a second that you just happened to meet my mother in a coffee shop,” I say.

  His eyes dance in their sockets. “Oh, no?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “Why not?”

  “You don’t drink coffee,” I say. “You hate coffee. And even if you did like coffee, you wouldn’t go pick it up yourself.”

  “What’s wrong, Alice?” he asks. “You don’t believe in coincidences?”

  “Not with you.”

  He leans forward with his hands in his pockets. “What exactly are you accusing me of, darling?”

  “Don’t call me that,” I bite through my teeth.

  He swallows. “Old habits.”

/>   I shift on my toes. “You know what I’m accusing you of.”

  “You think I did this on purpose to get to you?” he asks with a steady grin. “To lure you back to me?”

  “Didn’t you?”

  “Oh, come on, Alice…” He steps back.

  “No,” I argue. “This is you. This is classic, manipulative you, Charles. I don’t care what you do to me, but leave her out of it.”

  “Do you really think I’ve been sitting around for five years, thinking about you? Dreaming about you?” His eyes go wide. “Stalking you?”

  I hesitate to answer. When spoken out loud, it seems ridiculous. “Yes.”

  “Your hubris, Alice, is godlike.”

  “So you deny it then?”

  “Of course, I do.” Charles turns away for a moment but then spins back in my direction. “And what is this accusation? Manipulative?” My eyes drop to the ground. “Was I that cruel to you, Alice?” he asks. “I believe you and I have very different memories of our time together.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut, attempting to block my senses from his talent for words. “Don’t do that—”

  “I remember it fondly,” he interrupts. “Like a good vacation. But you… No, I treated you with respect, Alice.”

  “You didn’t respect me,” I spit out. “You wanted to possess me.”

  “I offered you everything.” He bites his lip and fights to keep his eyes focused on me. “I never stood in your way, even when your decisions did not personally benefit me. I never harmed you outside the realms of your consent and when you said you didn’t want to see me anymore, I let you go. I asked you twice if you were sure, then I let you go. I respected your decision. And now, suddenly, after all these years, you tell me that I was cruel to you. That I was possessive and manipulative. Tell me, was there ever any moment, in the entirety of our time together, when you felt unsafe?”

  “Well, I—”

  “Yes or no, Alice? Yes or no?”

  “No,” I concede.

  “Well, then, I think you need to reevaluate the facts of your situation. You were more to me than just a fling to me, Alice. I thought I made that clear, but I guess that was my mistake.”

 

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