Kiss Me There

by E. L. Todd

  Skye tickled Cedric’s foot. “Maybe I need to be on birth control to make it happen. Cayson likes a challenge.”

  “I can’t believe Olympia will be here in just two months…crazy.”

  “She’s going to be so cute. I can tell.”

  “I’m sure she will be.”

  “Slade has warmed up to the idea of having a girl?” She sipped her water then grabbed a fried artichoke heart from the basket in the middle of the table.

  “He doesn’t talk about it much. So…I really don’t know.” Slade’s silence could mean a million different things.

  “How’s everything…you know?” Skye always beat around the bush when it came to this subject. It was hard for anyone to talk about—even Slade. I was grateful my parents didn’t know what happened. If they did, nothing would be the same.

  “It’s okay. I still have nightmares.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Slade usually wakes me up so that helps. But I’m usually still pretty shaken up about it.”

  “I’m sure they’ll go away in time.”

  “Yeah…” That’s what Slade kept telling me.

  “I’m always here to talk if you need it too.”

  “I know.” I gave her a small smile. It wasn’t big, but at least it was genuine.

  “Will you guys have another one right away?”

  “Probably. I want three kids.”

  “Wow. Ambitious.”

  “But I could change my mind. We’ll see how much of a terror Olympia is.”

  “She won’t be a terror,” Skye said as she rolled her eyes. “Look at Cedric. He’s so quiet.”

  “Perhaps you’re just lucky.” I suspected I’d be getting up every night at three just to check on Olympia when she arrived.

  “Every mother is lucky. Having a child is a gift.”

  I smiled because her words were unusually poetic. “Hallmark card?”

  “No. That was all me.”

  Chapter Seven

  Silke

  Just breathe.

  Breathe.

  Goddammit, breathe.

  I was pacing in my office because I couldn’t stand still for more than a few minutes. My art gallery was about to have its first exposition. The pieces I handcrafted were on display, and I worked my fingers bloody until they were perfect.

  But would anyone show up?

  Would anyone buy anything?

  Would leaving the museum be the biggest mistake I ever made?

  Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

  Arsen knocked before he opened the door. “Hey, I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

  “Well, here I am.” My voice came out higher than a schoolgirl’s. I tried to keep my cool but it was simply impossible.

  Arsen looked me over before he stepped inside the office and shut the door behind him. “Beauty, everything will be fine.”

  “What if everyone laughs at my stuff and walks out?”

  “No one is going to do that.”

  “You don’t know.”

  “Well, if they did they would be the biggest assholes I’ve ever met in my life. And that’s saying something since I spent a year in jail.”

  His joke wasn’t funny and I refused to laugh.

  “Baby, come on. You’re going to rock it tonight.”

  “What if no one buys anything?”

  “Who cares?” he said. “It’s not like you’re a starving artist.”

  “It’s not about the money.” I stomped my foot because he was pissing me off. “It’s about the credibility. If I don’t sell anything that means nothing I made is worth anything—which means I need to quit.”

  “That’s a little overkill…”

  “It’s not. Everything is riding on tonight. If I don’t succeed…I’ll be devastated.”

  “You will succeed.”

  I turned away from him because I couldn’t bare the look on his face. I stared at the desk where my computer sat. I hardly ever used the thing unless I was bored and wanted to scroll through Facebook.

  “Hold on.” The door shut quietly when it closed behind him.

  I covered my face and concentrated on my breathing. Having a panic attack wouldn’t get me anywhere. I just needed to have a good sense of perception. If this exposition was a total nightmare I would still be alive the following day. It wouldn’t kill me. So I needed to chill out and suck it up.

  The office door opened again. “Sweetheart.”

  I’d recognize his voice anywhere. “Dad?” I slowly turned around with a calm expression.

  His hands were in his pockets and he was dressed in one of his favorite hoodies. It was dark blue and ancient. Holes were in the elbows and the sleeves. His jeans were old too. He had them since I was born. “Nervous?”

  “What gave me away?” The sarcasm dripped from my voice like an open bottle of maple syrup.

  “I don’t understand why. The gallery is set up. We’ve got an open bar, the pieces are on display, and everything is ready to go. You shouldn’t have a care in the world.”

  “It’s easy for you to be all calm and hip. Your ass isn’t on the line right now.”

  “It’s not?” he asked in surprise. “Because I remember paying for all of this.” He sat in the flimsy chair against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. “And when it comes to my kids, my ass is always on the line. I want the best for you. When you’re heartbroken, so am I.”

  “If anyone shows up, which I highly doubt, what if they don’t like anything? What if they take one look and think I’m a joke?”

  “No one is going to think that.”

  “Yes, they will.”

  “Fine. Maybe one person might think it. But who cares?” Dad rested one ankle on the opposite knee, and the rips in the bottom of his jeans were noticeable. “There will always be people who don’t like your work. But there will always be people who do like it. Focus on that last part.”

  “But what if one person likes my stuff and fifty don’t?”

  “That’s not going to happen, Silke.”

  “But you don’t know that. Neither do I. It’s different to display your art pieces to the world because they’re something you created from your heart and your soul. Selling a piece of software that people hate is different. Sean and Mike never take it personally because there’s no emotion in it. This is personal.”

  “I can understand that,” Dad said. “But you can’t let rejection scare you off. Sometimes I don’t understand you. You’re so confident and smart all the time, but in this respect you tuck your tail between your legs and take off. That’s not you, Silke.”

  “It’s different. I’m going to be walking around listening to people tear me down—”

  “Or praise you.” Dad shot me an irritated look. “If you think only bad things are going to happen, you have to admit the possibility of good things happening as well.”

  “Dad, you’re biased. You don’t know anything.”

  “I know I’m biased. I’ve seen your artwork before. And I think it’s amazing.”

  “Again, biased.”

  “I’m biased because I’ve already seen it. It has nothing to do with the fact I’m related to you. Frankly, if you sucked and you were giving up a job you loved to do this full time I would have told you so. Why would I want you to embarrass yourself in front of a bunch of people?”

  He had me there.

  “But I don’t think that, Silke. I think you’re going to rock tonight.”

  I sat in the leather desk chair and crossed my legs.

  “Whether you believe me or not, you need to go out there and face the music. Hold your head high and do it. That’s what Siscos do.”

  I knew hiding out in my office wouldn’t do me any good. Whether people showed up or not, my friends and family would come. And it would be pretty rude if I ignored them all evening. “Okay.”

  “Good.” He rose to his feet then looked down at himself. “Your mom told me not to wear this, but it’s okay, right?”


  Definitely not. He looked like a hobo. “I don’t care what you wear. I’m just glad you’re here.”

  He looked up again, a smile on his face. “I’ll tell your mother that next time she gives me shit.”

  ***

  Arsen’s eyes drilled into me once I walked into the gallery. He wore a black suit, something he hardly ever wore, and he watched me like a hawk high above the clouds. “Good. Your father talked some sense into you.”

  “Not really. Just bullied me.”

  “Why haven’t I tried that?” He rose to his full height, his face invading my personal space. He stared at my mouth like he wanted to kiss me—in an X rated way.

  “Because I’m the bully of the relationship.”

  “Maybe we need to switch things up.” His hand moved to my forearm and he slowly glided it to my shoulders. His fingers hardly touched me, but the pressure was enough to give me bumps everywhere. “I like this dress.”

  “Thank you.” It was black and backless. No further detail was needed.

  He slowly walked around me then pressed a kiss to the nape of my neck. His lips rested there a long time before they finally pulled away.

  I got chills.

  He walked back around me and this time his arm circled my waist. “Are you ready for this? It’s almost show time.”

  “I don’t think I’ll ever be ready for this.”

  “Would you have received a Harvard award for your sculpture if you weren’t good?”

  I forgot about that. And I forgot he was there.

  “That should give you all the confidence you need.”

  “It’s not like that award is on display so everyone knows about it.”

  “Then I’ll tell them.” He pulled me into his chest with a heated look in his eyes. “Whether you sell a single piece or not, I’m very proud of you.” His eyes shined with truth, undeniable and powerful.

  When his look became too much, I turned away.

  He grabbed my chin and guided my face back to his. “I mean it.”

  “I know.”

  This time he kissed me on the lips, and it wasn’t appropriate for the public eye. I pulled away when I felt his tongue. “My dad is here.”

  “He’s in the other room with Abby. And we’re married.”

  “Whatever. My parents don’t make out in front of me.”

  “If you didn’t want to show too much public affection you shouldn’t have dressed like that.”

  “Dressed like what, exactly?” My hand moved to my hip and I gave him a look full of scorn.

  Instead of backing away, he smiled. “Now I want to kiss you even more.”

  ***

  People actually came.

  A hundred people filed inside the moment the doors were open, and most of them weren’t even people I knew. Music played from the DJ we hired, and the bartender served drinks as people walked inside. They filed from each piece to the next, talking quietly to themselves with their drinks in hand.

  I couldn’t believe people actually came.

  It was unbelievable.

  Slade walked up to me, wearing a collared shirt and slacks. “I can’t believe how many people are here.”

  I was too happy to care about his insult. “I can’t believe it either. They’re actually looking at my stuff.”

  “I know. Crazy.”

  “I can’t believe Trinity got you to dress like that.”

  He looked down at himself then shrugged. “She’s having my baby so I’ll do whatever the hell she wants.”

  “Good way of looking at it.”

  “Well, sis. I think I’m proud of you.” He nudged me in the side with a smile in his eyes.

  “Yeah?”

  He nodded. “I think congratulations are in order.”

  “Well…thanks.” Slade and I didn’t have the kind of bond Aunt Scarlet and Dad had, but we had our moments. “I was pretty nervous. Now I realize I was freaking out over nothing.”

  “Yeah, you tend to do that.”

  And then our moment went right out the window. “Don’t be a jerk.”

  “I’m not. Look, I’m here and I’m dressed nice. Did you see Dad? That guy looks like he should be sitting on the curb eating a dead pigeon.”

  I grimaced at the mental picture. “Yeah, I saw him.”

  “I thought Mom kept him in line? Must be losing her touch…”

  “I guess so.”

  A waitress walked by with a tray of wine and appetizers. Slade watched her go. “Got any beer? Or is it just pretentious wine?”

  “Pretentious wine.”

  “Ugh.” He eyed the line as they filed through the different pieces. “Look at Uncle Sean. That guy is like a magnet. Everyone clings to him.”

  Uncle Sean wore one of his finest suits, and he walked through the exhibit with Aunt Scarlet on his arm. She wore a black dress with pristine pearls, and her hair was done in graceful curls. People in their vicinity knew exactly who he was. They discreetly took out their phones and snapped pictures of him.

  “Makes me sick…” Why couldn’t people just leave him alone? He was a regular person just like everyone else.

  “I don’t think it bothers him. Must be used to it.”

  “It bothers me.”

  “I’m sure this is what he wanted—to draw more attention to your exhibit. I bet a ton of people will come pouring in.”

  “I don’t want my uncle to sacrifice his rights as a human being to make that happen.”

  “You know how he is. He just wants the best for someone else besides himself.”

  He hit the nail right on the head. “How’s being a superstar?”

  “Awesome,” he said. “Just shot my first music video.”

  “Whoa, that must have been cool.”

  “And guess who was my costar?”

  I blurted out the first name that came to mind. “Cayson?”

  “Yuck. No. Trinity, idiot.”

  “Hey, it could have been Cayson.”

  “Maybe as an extra, not as my love interest.”

  We all knew that was debatable. “That’s so cool Trinity was in it. It’s fitting though—since you’re married.”

  “The director wanted me to roll around with us supermodel.” He grimaced like it was the most disgusting thing in the world. “There was no way in hell I was doing that.” Most men would have reveled in the opportunity, but not Slade. “Besides, Trinity is so much more beautiful. She’s got that pregnant glow and she has soft features around her face. You know, she’s like a beautiful goddess. I didn’t want some hot, dumb-as-shit, superficial model.”

  I couldn’t stop smiling at everything he said.

  He caught the look. “What?”

  “Nothing.” If I told him what I was thinking he’d flip out. “Have you come to terms with the fact you’re having a baby girl?”

  “I guess…” He rubbed the side of his face, what he usually did when he was uncomfortable. “I’m pretty stressed out about it, honestly. I’m not sure how to be a father to a daughter. So much more work.”

  “Abby is great.”

  “But when she gets older Arsen is going to have one hell of a time…”

  “You’re overreacting.”

  “Am not.”

  “Dad said I was a walk in the park.”

  “Well, Dad is a big, fat liar. You were dating a drug dealer, for crying out loud.”

  I tried not to take offense to that—since it was true. “He was not a drug dealer—”

  “He grew his own weed and sold it.”

  “Okay…but drug dealer sounds a lot more criminal than what he really did. And secondly, Dad knew he was a good guy in a shitty situation. Arsen didn’t have all the resources we did. He didn’t even have parents. So don’t compare them.”

  “I don’t want my daughter dating anybody. I will pick a husband for her, and she’ll get married when she’s thirty five.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Dad was never psycho like that and I turned out fine.”r />
  “Or did you…?”

  “Shut up, Slade. You know I came out great. Dad gave me the same freedom and respect as he gave you. And if you ask me, that’s what made him a good parent. He loved us and guided us, but he never sheltered us from the world. We knew how lucky we were to have so much, and he always taught us to be grateful rather than entitled. Just do everything Dad did and you’ll be fine.”

  “You make it sound so easy when you put it like that…”

  “And it’s not like you’re doing this alone. Trinity will be there.”

  “Thank god,” he blurted.

  “Thank god what?” Trinity appeared from the dark shadows wearing a loose green dress with gold hoop earrings. Her distended stomach was impossible to ignore, and her hand was usually resting on it.

  Slade automatically hooked his arm around her waist. “Thank god this exposition is a success. Silke was freaking out about it.”

  It was unlike Slade to lie to his own wife but I didn’t call him out on it. Must have had a good reason to. “It’s definitely doing better than I anticipated.”

  “You’re so talented, Silke,” Trinity said. “I wasn’t worried about it at all.”

  “Well…thanks.” Sometimes I wasn’t used to the compliments. I even suspected they were lying to make me feel better but I knew that was my paranoia talking.

  “Where’s your husband?” Trinity asked.

  I’d never grow tired of people referring to Arsen that way. He was my legal half, the other part of me. “Somewhere around here. Probably keeping an eye on Abby.”

  “Do you want anything to drink, baby?” Slade asked. “They have apple cider.”

  “I can get it myself.” Just as she turned to fetch it Slade was gone. He already dashed to the bar to retrieve her glass. She chuckled then turned back to me. “It’s like having a hot butler.”

  “I don’t know about the hot part, but he definitely acts like a servant.”

  “Wait until you’re pregnant,” she said. “Arsen will bend over backwards for you.”

  He already did bend over backwards for me.

  Chapter Eight

  Cayson

  Skye and I grabbed our drinks then looked at the different pieces Silke had made with her bare hands. I wasn’t much of a creative person, more analytical, but I could appreciate her artwork.

  Skye seemed distracted, constantly checking the time on her phone and eyeing the exit.