by Evelyn Sola
She’s pure nervous excitement when I pull into the parking lot of Perigold. By the time I walk to her side of the truck, she’s so busy looking at the building, she doesn’t realize that I’ve opened the door for her.
“Madam,” I say, clearing my throat. She looks at me, pulls out her phone, and punches in the name of the store. I quickly snatch it from her and put it in my pocket. “We have an appointment.”
“Appointment? Who makes an appointment at a furniture store?”
“I do.” I unbuckle her seatbelt and lift her out of the car. She’s wearing a pair of tan Uggs, the kind with the fur that comes to the middle of the calves. She looks from the building and back to me, most likely thinking about her next words, but when a few snowflakes suddenly start to fall, she shrieks in awe and spins around with her head lifted toward the sky.
While she’s looking around in wonderment, I lace our fingers together and walk us inside the building, where we are greeted by a middle-aged woman by the name of Nancy.
“And who is this?” Nancy asks, extending her hand to Miranda.
“This is my girlfriend, Miranda,” I say. Instead of taking Nancy’s hand, Miranda looks at me, opening her eyes wide. I nudge her ribs with my elbow, and she finally snaps out of it and shakes Nancy’s hand.
“Miranda,” Nancy says. “What a beautiful name, and you are one lucky girl.” Nancy wiggles her brows at Miranda and reaches up to pat my face.
“Nancy,” I say, “show us your best sectionals.”
For the first few minutes, Miranda walks next to me in a daze, her hand firmly in mine. She doesn’t say much until Nancy walks us into a room with nothing but sectionals. As soon as we step into the room, she pulls her hand from mine and proceeds to sit on every sectional. She even lies down on the ones she really likes.
Nancy hands us a scanner, telling us to scan whatever we’re interested in. For the next hour, Miranda goes on a scanning spree. As long as I nod at something she likes, she scans it. Like a kid in a candy shop, she scans furniture for every room in the house, including my empty office. It’s not until we’re almost done that something dawns on her.
“Nick,” she whispers, “there are no prices on anything.” I’ve noticed she has a nervous tic. Whenever something is bothering her, she bites on one of her thumbnails.
“Did you notice that, too?” I whisper back to her. “Let’s go settle up with Nancy so we can go to lunch. And those Christmas decorations aren’t going to buy themselves, pretty girl. My house is bare, and you’re my last hope.”
Nancy comes and escorts us to her office and prints out everything we’ve scanned. She turns on her computer screen, finds the layout of my house I provided, and arranges everything we’ve scanned in their respective rooms.
“Wow,” Miranda says, clearly impressed.
“I’ll take everything, Nancy.” Nancy rubs her hands together, smiling like a Cheshire cat at the thought of her commission. She prints out the invoice, laying it on her desk for me to review.
Miranda slides her chair so close to mine, the armrests touch. I know the exact moment she sees the total amount, because she makes a loud choking while covering her mouth with both hands.
I lift slightly to pull my wallet out of my back pocket, and as I pull out my black American Express, I look up to find Nancy rubbing her fingertips together as she waits for the card. As soon as I put it in her hands, she jumps out of her seat and runs out of the room.
I put my arm around Miranda and pull her closer. She looks up at me, her big brown eyes marred with confusion. I lean down and kiss her full lips. As soon as she opens her mouth to me, Nancy returns with something for me to sign.
Once everything is done, she assures me everything will be delivered by Tuesday. She shakes both our hands and offers Miranda her card for any future needs.
Neither one of us speaks. She doesn’t bother to stop to admire the falling snow that’s now left a soft blanket on the ground. I open the door for her, and she climbs in. By the time I let myself in the car, she’s looking straight ahead with that damn fingernail in her mouth.
“What’s wrong?” I say as I start the car but make no move to leave the parking lot. “And don’t say nothing. Something’s obviously wrong.”
She finally puts her hands down and turns her body to face me.
“That was a lot of money. I’ve never even heard of this place.”
“I wouldn’t have bought it if I couldn’t afford it, Miranda. It’s not a big deal.”
“How can you afford that? Your business tanked and that’s why you had to come back here and work for your uncle.” I look at her, stunned at her words.
I grab her hands, which are now ice cold, and hold them in mine. I school my features to appear as somber as possible to deliver my news. She watches me, her eyes wide, waiting for me to speak.
“I didn’t tell you before, but I’m an enforcer for the mob.” I didn’t think it was possible, but her eyes widen even more. Her mouth forms an O, she pulls her hands from mine and starts to reach for the door handle.
I grab her elbow and laugh so hard my entire body shakes. She flares her nostrils and playfully punches me in the arm.
“Very funny,” she says.
“You should have seen your face. And where were you going? You think you can run from the mob?” I start to laugh again, and she crosses her arms to look angry, but I can see a smile form on her lips.
“Whatever.”
“Miranda, I have money, okay.”
“What do you mean you have money?”
“And I’m not even going to ask you where you heard my business tanked because I have a pretty good idea. First of all, it did not tank. I sold it for a lot of money.”
“Oh. Okay, whatever.” She asks for her phone back, and when I give it to her, she skims through her apps, and seconds later, Christmas music starts to play.
“Okay. Whatever,” I mimic and still make no move to pull the car out of the parking lot.
“Can we go?” she asks, turning up the volume of the music. I get her attention when I turn the radio off.
“Not until you tell me what the problem is.”
“My problem is that I’m hungry, and you promised lunch.” I stare at her and wait for her to say more. “You want me to drive?”
“You know,” I say, turning my body to face her. “Most women would be thrilled to find out that their boyfriend is rich.”
“Well, I’m not most women,” she says, turning the music back on, only for me to turn it off again.
“That’s one of the things I like about you, but I really don’t understand the issue here.” I reach over and adjust her hat. It’s the same style as the one she wore the first night she came to my house, but this one is all white. “You were so excited to come with me, and now you’re acting like I did something to upset you.”
“I’m not upset. I didn’t realize the circumstances. You just spent six figures on furniture like it’s six dollars, and I work at the mall making thirteen dollars an hour. I always knew we weren’t equal, but we’re really mismatched. I finally understand what you meant when you told me you have a lot of sugar.”
“You just got that?” Unable to help myself, I laugh, which makes her cross her arms and turn to her window. When I lay a hand on her thigh, she tries to shove it away.
“There’s more, sweets. The money isn’t just from my business. I have family money too. I’m telling you now, so we can move on with the rest of our day. I didn’t think the first time you’d be mad at me would be over something like this.”
“What family money? I thought Joe came from humble beginnings.”
“Yes, he does, but my mother, his sister, married a very rich man. My father was Dustin Jones.” Her eyes widen again.
“The writer?”
“The one and the same. When he died, he left half of everything to me and the other portion to my half-brother, Henry. He divorced my mother when I was a teenager. He was horrible to her
. Cheated with anything female, and he rarely paid any attention to me. The final nail in the coffin for us as a family was when me and my mom walked in on him with a woman in our house. I cut him out of my life the minute I left for college, but he tracked me down about ten years ago. He wanted to make amends and wanted me and Henry to act like brothers.”
She reaches for my hand, lifts it, and kisses my wrist, waiting for me to continue.
“My mother was his third wife, and Henry’s mother was his first. He’s fifteen years older than I am, and until ten years ago, I could count on one hand how many times we’ve ever been in the same room. I told both my father and Henry to fuck off, but when I told my mother and Uncle Joe, they encouraged me to give them a chance.”
“Did you?” she asks, her voice barely a whisper as she looks at me.
“I did. I had a few good years with my father, but he died about two years ago from lung cancer.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” She unbuckles her seatbelt and practically flies into my arms. She hugs me tight and peppers my face with kisses. “What about your mom and Henry?”
“Henry and I talk about once a week. He lives in Newport with his wife and daughter. I talk to my mom almost every day. She’s remarried and lives in Providence now.” She breathes against me, seemingly relieved at my words.
“How come you don’t go by Jones?”
“I was angry with him. As soon as I was old enough, I took my mother’s maiden name. And Dustin Jones was his pen name. His real name was Nicolai Lupinski. I really wanted nothing to do with him for a long time, but I’m glad we had some years together.”
“Sounds like you and your mom are close.”
“Yeah. She’s going to love you, by the way.”
She looks away, but then I pull her chin so she can look at me again.
“Your dad had all those bestsellers.” I know what she’s getting at.
“Yes, and they made movies out of a bunch of them. One of his series is a television show right now.”
“Okay,” she says, elongating the word
“Okay, what, pretty girl?”
“Tell me about your last relationship,” she says, changing the subject. She slips out of my arms and buckles herself in her seat. Resigned, I reverse the car out of the parking spot and make my way onto the main street.
“Paige and I were together for a couple of years. My best friend and his fiancée introduced us, and she ended up working for me. We were together for three years and were planning a life together. Two months after burying my dad, I find out she was stealing from me and my company. It was one of the lowest points of my life. I ended things, sold the company, moved back east, and met this pretty girl.”
She’s silent for a while. When I get to a red light, I stop the car and look at her.
“I’m sorry you had to go through that. To lose your father and the woman you love all around the same time sounds awful.”
The last thing I fucking want is to talk about Paige. That relationship is as dead as my father. It’s buried and needs to stay there.
“I’m okay. I made peace with my dad, and we had almost a decade together. Paige was a mistake and a nonfactor. What’s really bothering you? Let’s get it out so we can get on with our day.” Just as I’m running my fingers through her hair, the light turns green and I go through the intersection.
“So, you and your brother split the royalties from your father’s work?”
“We do.”
“Honestly, Nick, I feel blindsided. You’re a gazillionaire, who’s much older than I am. I’m still in college, and you have a career. You’ve been around long enough to own and sell a business. I drive an eleven-year-old car and live in my parent’s basement, and I just told you how much I make. I bet Paige was beautiful and sophisticated. I feel like we’re worlds apart in everything. We can never be equal in this relationship.”
I lay my hand on her thigh and rub her leg as I drive.
“Oh, baby, I was blindsided too. I met you and I fell hard. It was like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. I could not keep my eyes off you even for a second, and we already have all these obstacles. Your mom, your age, my lack of melanin.” I throw the last part out to get a laugh, and it works. She punches my arm and blushes at the reminder.
“Most women would be happy to learn their boyfriend is rich,” I repeat.
“You’re my boyfriend now?”
“Yup.” I stop at another red light and look at her. She smiles and visibly relaxes. She reaches for my hand and laces her fingers with mine. “I like you, Miranda. That’s it. This is our relationship, and we’re equals if we say we are. We get to define who we are.”
“I like you too.”
“Then let’s focus on that. Let’s forget the obstacles and all the reasons why we shouldn’t be together and just be together.”
“Okay.” She’s quiet as I drive, then she turns to look at me. “Does that mean I can go crazy with the Christmas decorations? I have all these ideas, and your place is a clean slate.”
“My credit card has no limit. Whatever we can’t find at the store, we’ll order online tonight.” She bounces in her seat. I’m annoyed when she pulls her hand away from mine, but I laugh when she rubs them together in anticipation.
“Does that mean what I think it means? Please say that it does.” She’s looking at me, her bottom lip between her teeth and eyes wide as she waits for me to respond.
“What do you think it means?” I ask, completely confused.
“No budget.” She reaches over and grabs on to my thigh. “Say the words, Nick. Say them.” Her voice is husky as she talks. She squeezes my thigh, getting me hard instantly. At that moment, I’d agree to whatever she wants.
“No,” I say, sneaking a look at her as I drive. She moves her hand from my thigh and puts her palms together in anticipation. “Budget.” Her shriek fills the car, and I put my free hand to my ear.
“You’re about to be a lot less rich, boyfriend!”
I let out a laugh, relieved to have had this discussion. “Unlikely, pretty girl. Highly unlikely.”
“Lunch first. I’m going to need my strength for all the shopping we’re about to do. And take me somewhere fancy. Somewhere that has white tablecloths. I have a sudden taste for shrimp.”
“Yes, ma’am!”
CHAPTER 17
NICK
“I’m coming over right after work on Tuesday. Why is it taking so long, though? We have all this stuff I need to put out. This place is going to look good enough to go on a cover of a magazine.” She jumps off the kitchen counter and comes and stands next to me. She lifts the lid to the saucepan and smells the sauce inside. I look at her, not saying a word, as I cut a tomato for our salad.
I can see the wheels turning in her head, and I wish I could read her mind. “If you don’t mind, that is.”
“Don’t mind what?”
“That I come over right after work on Tuesday. I just declared that I was coming without asking. It’s your place, and I don’t want to assume—”
I cut her off by reaching over for a cucumber slice and putting it into her mouth.
“You have a key for a reason.” I roll my eyes at her, and she rewards me with a slap on the ass.
“When is that food going to be ready? I’m starving.” I feed her a carrot this time, which she happily takes.
“You are so impatient. It will be ready when it’s ready. Now, come closer and give me a kiss.” She takes a final step, closing all the space between us. She puts her arms around me, gets on her tiptoes, and raises her head. I look into her eyes and slowly lean in for a kiss. I do my best to keep the kiss chaste and reluctantly pull away much too soon.
Unwilling to have her walk away from the kitchen, I put my hands on her waist, pick her up, and set her on the counter while I prepare our salad.
“You want me to do something?”
“I want you to stay right next to me.”
She leans back and lets out
a sigh of contentment as she reaches over and strokes my hair. No one has ever played with my hair before, and I find that I like it.
“I still can’t believe you had someone come in here and change our sex sheets. I’m so embarrassed.”
I let out a snort and reluctantly walk away to get the salad dressing.
When we arrived home after shopping for what feels like every Christmas ornament and decoration, Miranda was struck speechless—which is no easy feat—when we walked in to find my housekeeper mopping the floor.
When I explained Olga comes every Friday, like a bat out of hell, she ran up the stairs to the bedroom. I watched, confused, as she pulled back the duvet and checked the sheets.
“I’ve already given her a bonus. Stop worrying about it. We’re going to mess up lots of sheets.”
“Other than the sheets scandal, today has been the best day.” Goosebumps spread throughout my body as she strokes the nape of my neck.
“The sheets scandal? I hope the media doesn’t get wind of it.” I laugh, and when she punches my shoulder, I laugh harder. “You’re adorable, do you know that?”
“I know,” she says, reaching into the salad, but I move the bowl out of her reach. “That’s why all the boys want me.”
I walk away and place the salad on the table. I check my shrimp Alfredo and turn off the burner before I return to her. Stepping in front of her, I spread her legs open and step between them.
“All the boys can want you, but I’m the only man who gets you.” I lean in to kiss her, and when she leans forward to meet me halfway, I pull back. I lift her off the counter and slap her on the ass. “Let’s eat.”
^^^^
“Oh my God, this is good.” She puts her fork down and looks at me. I hold her stare, anxious to hear what will come out of her mouth next. “I thought you were sexy when I first saw you, but there is absolutely nothing sexier than a man who can cook. Had I known that the first night…” She smirks and returns to her food, but when she picks up her fork, I wrap my hand around her wrist.
She looks at me, surprised at the unexpected movement. Her eyes widen in anticipation, and I know right now that she wants me.
