by Kris Buendía
Mona opens her eyes and mouth wide. She wants to say something, I know her very wel , but she does not dare. Like me.
“Cinder, it is not what I am thinking, is it?”
I force myself to say yes with my head and Mona is about to faint.
“God, Cinder. Is that why you punish yourself like that? Working here, cleaning floors, when you would be working with me. Please, tel me this is a joke and Paris as wel as being a bitch is a murderer.”
“I wish you could understand me. Paris promised to end my life. With my career, with my mother’s life. Do you know how happy my family is?
It does not matter where I work. As long as Paris forgets it, I can continue here. I enjoy having you around, besides, working in the cafe is not bad.”
Mona takes my hand.
“But it is not your dream. It is not what you wanted for you. And most importantly, you did not do it. Paris threats do not matter, your life can not be like this forever. Maybe meeting Gideon is helpful.”
“You are crazy, Mona. Paris has proofs that link me. I was not supposed to be at the party with him that night. That was an accident. Paris is astute. She has always been and since I work here, she has left me a bit in peace.”
“A bit?” She growls annoyed. “I see you sneaking around to avoid meeting them.”
“Mona, leave it like that. I wil work as necessary to save some money and go away where they can not find me and threaten me. I wil take my family with me. Meanwhile, I can not do anything. Paris has evidence linking me that day.
She can use them against me at any time if I make her angry.”
“Are you listening what you are saying? For God's sake, Cinder,” She places her hands on my shoulders to make me react. “She has done you a lot of damage for so long that now you see it so normal. You prefer to walk in the shadows than to be free. Everything for her. This wil not stay like this.”
“That is why I did not want to tel you.”
“It was murder, Cinder Mattis. A terrible fact.
When you accept it, then you wil know that you have nothing to fear. Because you did not do it and whatever Paris says or has, it wil not work. I wil take care of that.”
She stands up and returns to her desk.
“Now, go play with your cleaning cart and said goodbye to him, because you wil not be there forever. And another thing. Do you know that Gideon wil ask me about you?”
“I know, and you wil know how to lie to him too.”
I look at her with a bad face. But I do not blame her.
She loves me too much to be affected.
It is a very painful and unfair confession. But I know that the hardest thing and what hurts the most for her is that she would have done exactly the same to protect me.
…
When I left work I did not want to go home immediately. I also did not want to go anywhere with the boys. Instead, I set put to walk the streets of Seattle. Everything here is beautiful. Near the sea, near the mountains, and near Canada, Seattle is not only a good place to visit, but I never imagined that I would end up living here and not in France, where my dreams as a designer would give good results.
I like to come from time to time. When everything overwhelms me and I can not cry at home because I can not do things differently. I also draw some shoes sketches.
A bit of the same.
Spike heel. Hand stitching and antique design.
Drawing something different depends on my mood.
A black shoe with thick, high heel. Cross-shaped closure with details of spines on the tips and side of the heel. Sophisticated, delicate, expensive and dangerously perfect.
Gideon Graysson.
The unique character of Seattle can be seen in its most famous monument, the Space Needle. In my thoughts there is only one.
The dark prince with an English accent.
It darkens like one who blinks once and I must go home. My family it is not what I am worried about, they would jump on one foot, even Grandpa Gus if one night I did not get home.
“You deserve to have fun like al young people.”
It is what my mother says. In her words, everything is magical y imperfect at our age. I am stil waiting for the dazzling.
While I am on the avenue, passing through the high commercials in the city, including clubs and picturesque restaurants. A particular bar catches my attention. It is not that I want to drink, it is to see who is in there.
Gideon.
My head tel s me to keep going, to get home and forget about it. But my other self, the stupid side, softly whispers to me to enter and take a look at the man who was almost mine for one night.
“Are you going to enter, Miss?”
The security guard addresses me. Who wears a black suit? He is kind and I am surprised he does not cal me an ordinary girl.
“Do I look like visiting these places?” I ask more for curiosity than anything else.
The man looks at me from head to toe. I see myself doing the same. Today I am wearing a ridiculous white knit dress. I wear my denim jacket and my matching sneakers. Oh, and my beret very deep in my bag. Today I had those days when I hid the worn jeans and I wanted to wear one of the few dresses in which I do not feel like a fragile flower of Cinderella.
“Today the bar is exclusive for the ladies.”
Oh, that.
He gives me an awkward laugh and I decide to enter anyway. Of course I am running to the bar and look for Gideon.
I get curious and feel the need to be here, I do not know why. I have never been a person with bad foreboding, but now that I am here, I feel different.
And more seeing Paris from the other side of the bar, watching Gideon.
I doubt that he knows that she is watching him.
And the weirdest thing is that it seems to be the goal of Paris.
She has fol owed him.
Gideon stil contemplates the drink in his hand.
It seems he waits for someone. Or maybe nobody.
Who knows, he is just drinking, like the other night.
In a quite restricted area and far from the crowd.
He should drink at home.
“Do you like what you see?” The voice of the girl of the bar catches my attention.
“Excuse me?”
“The boss.” She respond serving a kind of drink in a aluminium container and shake it. “If you like him; you know who he is, right? You are not the first to sit here and watch him.”
“Boss?”
“Yes, he is the bar owner. He comes here from time to time and always does the same. To drink.”
It breaks my heart.
“Are you going to drink something?”
“Beer.” I say and she serves it directly to me in a pitcher.
Paris has not noticed my presence. Something tel s me that it is not coincidence and that she is watching him in a uncouth way.
Paris takes a look around.
I hide between the bottles in front of me and she quickly pul s out a smal pot dropper and apply some on her drink.
What the fuck?
I hope she drinks it, but she does not. She remains watching Gideon as if... Shit! That drink is for him.
I have to get Gideon out of here. Nothing Paris can plot is good. I must invent something so that she does not see me and Gideon does not recognise me.
I wave to the bar girl and she immediately approaches.
“Hey, I did not come here to watch that daddy.
In fact he and I...”
“Oh, how hot.” She understands it.
She seems interested in what I say.
“You see that girl over there?” We both look at Paris, who is stil gazing Gideon.
“That crazy, yes. Wait, do not tel me you know her. I do not know how she does it, but she is always watching the boss. And never talk to him.
Although today she has been here for a long time.”
What I suspected.
“Wel , it seems that we are already underst
anding. I want to take my boyfriend home, but we keep it low profile and that woman here is a danger to what we have. Do you think you can send her to the other side of the bar while we are leaving?”
“There is no problem. But it wil cost you something.”
I take out my wal et and pay for the beer I did not drink, plus two more tips. The Caffe tips.
“Thanks.” She keeps the tips and I move to another place so that Paris does not see me.
I see the girl of the bar approaching. Paris seems nervous for what she says and suddenly, she stands and retire to the other side of the bar, while stil looking at Gideon. As soon as she seats down, the bar girl, accidental y, throws a drink on Paris’s dress.
And as expected, she makes a little drama without attracting the attention of others or Gideon and goes to the woman's dressing room.
The girl bar gives me a wink and it is my moment to act.
I walk to Gideon with my heart in my hand and touch his shoulder as if I knew him so as not to raise suspicion, but it is a bad idea, since he barely sees me.
“Gideon.”
When I pronounce his name, he looks up and his eyes sparkle with astonishment when he sees me and at the same time his frown tel s me he is in a bad mood.
“I know you are not in front of me.” He sputters.
“But I am happy to see you again...El a.”
Paris will leave the dressing room at any time.
So we do not have much time.
“Let's get out of here.”
“Do you dare give me orders?” The heaviness of his voice shows me that he is angry with me and not for giving him orders.
“Gideon.”
“Have you been thinking about what I told you?”
If I have to say yes, that I wil have to spend the night with him to save him from the clutches of Paris then...
“Yes.”
The way he looks at me makes me nervous. It makes me believe that there is nothing but that look. I like the way he looks at me, how he looks tonight despite being drunk.
I like his little disheveled hair, the button that he unbuttoned and that pokes a bit of tattooed skin from his chest. I like everything, including the danger that I am feeling.
“El a.” Pronounces and stands up.
A man behind him with a dark suit, quite attractive and with a bad face, approaches us.
“We are leaving, Arsen. Wait for me in the car.”
“Yes, sir.”
His bodyguard is gone. At least I know that he has someone when he comes to these places and does not drive without precaution. Although it is not what real y goes through my mind now.
Gideon does not stop looking at me and stops on my shoes.
“Nice shoes.”
“Thanks, although something tel s me that you look disappointed. I am not wearing heels tonight, nor extravagant dress.”
He approaches me with determination and ready to do only one thing. He takes me by the waist and pul s me closer to his chest. I can feel the scent of alcohol coming out of his mouth and also his perfume. That last one is making me drunk.
Then he brings my face close to his and runs his tongue down my lower lip. Immediately, they know that taste and my mouth opens in response to the kiss. But he does not.
“It does not matter what you wear.” He whispers. “You know it just as wel and that is the only thing that matters to me. Not your ridiculous heels or your unforgivable dress.”
“Unforgivable?”
He nods.
“It is too short, El a. You do not want to know what that dress causes to me. Although you wil already know.”
He takes me by the hand and together we leave the bar. Now I can breathe, more or less.
Paris did not see us leaving there together and he is save. Although I can not say the same about me now that I have al owed him “again” to take me home. This time I do not know if I wil be able to run away, or worse, say no.
The silence is short when the car is running.
“Why the change?”
“You mean my clothes?” I ask.
“No, El a. I do not care about your fucking clothes unless if it is me taking them off. I mean you have accepted my offer.”
Stop, I was not ready for that. I wil have to invent something better, because I do not know who to pretend to be be the desperate woman who wants him in bed. Any woman would want to have him, even me. But he knows it. He knows that I wil not tel him. He told me I was different and that is something he wil not forget.
“I do not know.”
“Come here.” He orders me by touching the empty side of the seat. I am a little away from him even though he is next to me and, if I can be honest, I can not move. My legs are shaking too much and my chest is burning to the point that I am starting to sweat.
“Gideon, there is something...”
“That you know that if you make me repeat it again, it wil be your second punishment tonight.”
I wonder which is the first.
“What is the reason for the first one?”
He runs his fingers over his hair and it is the hottest thing of the night so far.
“That fucking dress you are wearing.”
“Is that ugly?”
I swear he wants to laugh, but he immediately hides in that image of a serious, cold and control ing man.
“So innocent.” Murmur with his voice firm.
“Come here.”
That's it. I am lost. He said he was not going to repeat himself and he has done. My body betrays me and moves under his command. Now I am pretty close and what used to be heat, now is a lot of fire. So much fire that I am afraid of burning myself, but his flames, those sad eyes that are looking at me and those parted lips which I look with thirst, are making me stay.
It is not fear what I have. It is the curiosity to know why my body and my mind react like that to him. It is a mutual feeling and it is crazy, at the same time that reality will hit us very hard.
His hand is going straight to my bare leg. He is right, this dress is too short that I had not noticed.
His big, hot hand feels good and what he causes in me makes him not pul his hand away and gets out of the car.
“You are shaking, El a.”
“My chest does something worse.” My voice is almost a whisper.
His hand leaves my leg and runs to my chest.
He feels the throb of my heart.
“You are more alive than me.”
His wary hand stops touching my chest and ascends to my face. He touches my cheeks and surrounds my neck to pul me closer and this time I am not feeling only his tongue. I feel his lips dancing at the same time as mine.
“Gideon...”
“I wil not let you run this time, El a. You have no fucking idea of what you are doing in my head. I have not stopped thinking about you, knowing who you are and where you came from.”
I wish I could tel him that we are closer than he thinks. But I do not know what kind of man he is and if he would accept me. The real me. My reality.
“When you know, you wil hate me, you will yel at me and throw me out.”
Without moving too far, he looks at my eyes, my nose, my mouth. My hair. I think he likes it, as wel as my eyes.
“I would be crazy. You are more addictive than anything and I have not tried you. But you... You have not seen anything of me and stil you have accepted my proposal. I think it wil be you who does not stay to look at it. You wil run away.”
“Nonsense.”
This time I am the one who takes him by the neck and kisses him.
…
Back in his apartment. The last time it did not seem so big and luxurious. But it was because I had drunk a little and the adrenaline was different. Now I can see every detail here, even him.
If he was not so serious, I would say that he is kind and even gentlemanly.
Gideon staggers a little and Arsen and I walk him to his room.
“Are you going to be okay, Mis
s?” Arsen asks.
“Yes, I will let him sleep and I wil go.”
Gideon groans in the bed and takes my hand.
“Arsen, get you of here, she will not go anywhere.”
I gave Arsen a look of approval, so he does not worry about Gideon or commit a madness. Like I said, I wil let him fall asleep and I wil go.
What a night he decided to get drunk. Just by thinking about what we could be doing right now, it makes my cheeks flush.”
Gideon eyes are closed and his breathing is slow. I take off my jacket and leave it on the bed.
It is a beautiful room. It could be the size of my house.
It like its minimalist style and the blue tones of the bedsheets that match the two big lamps on each side of the bed. A desk to read that is empty and a small room at the other extreme of the room.
There is a giant window with glass doors with access to the terrace, I go a little closer and I open the dark curtains. Definitely, the best view of Seattle. It would be nice to wake up here and go out for a coffee in this terrace.
But I guess those things for Gideon are not the big deal.
A sound from a cel phone brings me to reality and even more when recognising the tone.
I run up to my jacket and see Mona's messages and a missed call from my mother.
I am looking for a place to hide, although Gideon does not listen to me anyway.
The door next to the bed should be the bathroom, so I hide there. I was right, it is an immense bathroom and also his closet.
I sit in an elegant white armchair that is in the middle of the closet and cal my mother.
“Where have you gotten yourself, Cinder? I was worried about you.”
The tone of her voice tells me otherwise.
“I am fine, mom. I have been distracted on the way home.”
“With a boy?”
“Mom!” I reproach her.
“It would not be a bad thing if you went out with a special boy, honey. You already know you are old enough for it. But if you do not come to sleep, let me know first. You know that your grandfather waits for you to say good night.”
My mother has to be the only mother who advises her daughter to go out with boys. She dreams of seeing me happy and in love with someone. And over the years, she has never met anyone in particular. At my age, I guess it is normal and almost desperate for a mother like mine. Anyways, she not completely wrong.
