Twisted Lies

TWISTEDLIES
TWISTEDBOOKFOUR
ANAHUANGCopyright?2022byAnaHuang
Allrightsreserved.
Nopartofthisbookmaybereproduced,distributed,ortransmittedinanyformorbyanyelectronicormechanicalmeans,includinginformationstorageandretrievalsystems,withoutwrittenpermissionfromtheauthor,exceptfortheuseofbriefquotationsinabookreviewandcertainothernoncommercialusepermittedbycopyrightlaw.
Resemblancetoactualpersonsandthingslivingordead,locales,oreventsisentirelycoincidental.
TWISTEDLIES:
Editor:
BeccaHensleyMysoor,AmyBriggs
Proofreader:
BrittTayler
CoverDesigner:
QuirahCasey
Photographer:
Miguelanxo
Model:
SergioCarvajalToeveryonewhosefavoritecolorismorallygray.CONTENTS
Playlist
Synopsis
ContentNotes
1.Stella
2.Christian
3.Stella
4.Stella
5.Stella
6.Stella
7.Stella
8.Christian
9.Stella
10.Christian
11.Stella/Christian
12.Stella
13.Christian
14.Stella
15.Stella
16.Christian
17.Stella
18.Christian/Stella
19.Stella
20.Stella
21.Stella
22.Stella
23.Christian
24.Stella
25.Christian
26.Stella
27.Christian
28.Stella
29.Stella/Christian
30.Stella/Christian
31.Christian/Stella
32.Stella
33.Christian/Stella
34.Stella
35.Christian
36.Stella
37.Christian
38.Stella
39.Christian/Stella
40.Stella
41.Christian
42.Stella
43.Christian
44.Christian
45.Christian
46.Stella
47.Christian
48.Christian
49.Stella
50.Christian
51.Stella
52.Christian/Stella
53.Stella/Christian
54.Stella
55.Christian
56.Stella
Epilogue
BooksbyAnaHuang
KeepintouchwithAnaHuang
Acknowledgments
AbouttheAuthor“TearsofGold(Slowed)”—Faouzia
“MadetoLove”—JohnLegend
“GodisaWoman”—ArianaGrande
“Infinity”—JaymesYoung
“Style”—TaylorSwift
“CrazyinLove”—SofiaKarlberg
“Coffee”—Miguel
“HeatWaves”—GlassAnimals
“IKnowYou”—SkylarGrey
“EarnedIt”—TheWeeknd
“Beautiful”—Bazzi
“DieforYou”—TheWeeknd
“HarleysinHawaii”—KatyPerry
“SaidILovedYouButILied”—MichaelBoltonHe’lldoanythingtohaveher…includinglie.
Charming,deadly,andsmartenoughtohideit,ChristianHarperisamonsterdressedintheperfectlytailoredsuitsofagentleman.
Hehaslittleuseformoralsandevenlessuseforlove,buthecan’tdenythestrangepullhefeelstowardthewomanlivingjustonefloorbelowhim.
She’stheobjectofhisdarkestdesires,theonlypuzzlehecan’tsolve.Andwhentheopportunitytogetclosertoherarises,hebreakshisownrulestoofferheradealshecan’trefuse.
Everymonsterhastheirweakness.She’shis.
Hisobsession.
Hisaddiction.
Hisonlyexception.
**
Sweet,shy,andintroverteddespitehersocialmediafame,StellaAlonsoisaromanticwhokeepsherheartinacage.
Betweenhertwojobs,shehaslittletimeordesireforarelationship.
Butwhenathreatfromherpastdrivesherintothearms—andhouse—ofthemostdangerousmanshe’severmet,she’stemptedtoletherselffeelsomethingforthefirsttimeinalongtime.
BecausedespiteChristian’scoldnature,hemakesherfeeleverythingwhenshe’swithhim.
Passionate.
Protected.
Trulywanted.
Theirsisalovetwistedwithsecretsandtaintedbylies…andwhenthetruthsarefinallyrevealed,theycouldshattereverything.CONTENTNOTES
Thisstorycontainsamorallygrayalphahero,explicitsexualcontent,profanity,graphicviolence,andtopicsthatmaybesensitivetosomereaders.
Foradetailedlist,clickhere
orscanthecodebelow.
1
STELLA
“Stella!”
Myheartratespedup.NothingtriggeredmyfightorflightlikethesoundofMeredith’svoice.
“Yes?”Ihidmytrepidationbehindaneutralexpression.
“Itrustyoucanbringalltheitemsbacktotheofficeyourself.”Sheslippedonhercoatandtossedherhandbagoverhershoulder.“IhaveadinnerreservationIsimplycan’tmiss.”
“Of—”
Shedisappearedoutthedoor.
“CourseIcan,”Ifinished.
Thephotographershotmeasympatheticlook,whichIansweredwithatiredshrug.Iwasn’tthefirstmagazineassistantwho’dsufferedunderatyrannicalboss,andIwouldn’tbethelast.
Onceuponatime,workingatafashionmagazinewould’vebeenadream.Now,afterfouryearsatD.C.Style,therealityofthejobhaddulledanyshinethepositiononceheld.
BythetimeIpackedupthephotoshoot,droppedtheitemsoffattheoffice,andstartedmywalkhome,myforeheadwasslickwithsweatandmymuscleswerewellontheirwaytobecomingJell-O
Thesunhadsethalfanhourago,andthestreetlightscastahazyorangeglowoverthesnow-packedsidewalks.
Thecitywasunderablizzardwarning,butthebadweatherwouldn’tkickinuntillaterintheevening.ItwasalsofasterformetowalkhomethantaketheMetro,whichfreakedoutwhenevertherewassomuchasaninchofsnow.
Onewouldthinkthecitywouldbebetterpreparedconsideringitsnowedeveryyear,butnope.NotD.C.
Ishouldn’thavebeenlookingatmyphonewhilewalking,especiallygiventheweather,butIcouldn’thelpmyself.
IpulleduptheemailI’dreceivedthatafternoonandstaredatit,waitingforthewordstorearrangethemselvesintosomethinglessupsetting,buttheyneverdid.
EffectiveApril1,thecostforaprivateroomatGreenfieldSeniorLivingwillincreaseto$6,500permonth.Weapologizeinadvanceforanyinconveniencethismaycause,butweareconfidentthechangeswillresultinevenhigher-qualitycareforourresidents…
ThegreensmoothieI’ddownedduringlunchsloshedinmystomach.
Inconvenience,
theysaid.Liketheyweren’thikingthepricesofanassistedlivingfacilitybymorethantwentypercent.Likeliving,breathing,vulnerable
humanbeingswouldn’tsufferasaresultofthenewmanagement’sgreed.
In,one,two,three.Out,one,two,three.
Itriedtoletthedeepbreathswashawaymyrisinganxiety.
Maurahadpracticallyraisedme.Shewastheonepersonwho’dalwaysbeenthereforme,evenifshedidn’tknowwhoIwasnow.Icouldn’tmovehertoanotherassistedlivingfacility.Greenfieldwasthebestinthearea,andit’dbecomeherhome.
NoneofmyfriendsandfamilyknewI’dbeenpayingforhercare.Ididn’twanttheinevitablequestionstellingthemwouldraise.
Iwouldjusthavetofindawaytocoverthehighercosts.MaybeIcouldtakeonmorepartnershipsornegotiatehigherratesformyblogandInstagram.IhadanupcomingdinnerwithDelamonteinNewYork,whichmymanagersaidwasanauditionfortheirbrandambassadorposition.IfI—
“Ms.Alonso.”
Thedeep,richvoicebrushedmyskinlikeblackvelvetandstoppedmeinmytracks.Ashiverchaseditswake,bornofequalpartspleasureandwarning.
Irecognizedthatvoice.
I’dhearditonlythreetimesinmylife,butthatwasenough.Likethemanwhoownedit,itwasunforgettable.
WarinessflickeredinmychestbeforeIdousedit.Iturnedmyhead,mygazetravelingoverpowerfulwintertiresandthesleek,distinctivelinesoftheblackMcLarenpulledupbesidemebeforeitreachedtherolled-downpassengerwindowandtheownerinquestion.
Myheartslowedafractionofabeat
Darkhair.Whiskeyeyes.Afacesoexquisitelychiseleditcould’vebeensculptedbyMichelangelohimself.
ChristianHarper.
CEOofanelitesecuritycompany,owneroftheMirage,thebuildingwhereIlived,andquitepossiblythemostbeautiful,mostdangerousmanI’devermet.
Ihadnothingexceptinstincttobackupthedangerous
partofmyassessment,butmyguthadneversteeredmewrong.
Iinhaledasmallbreath.Released.Andsmiled.
“Mr.Harper.”Mypolitereplywasmetwithdryamusement.
Apparently,onlyhewasallowedtoaddresspeoplebytheirlastnameslikewealllivedinagiant,stuffyboardroom.
Christian’seyesgrazedthesnowflakesdriftingontomyshoulderbeforetheymetmineagain.
Myheartslowedanotherfractionofabeat.
Tinycracklesofelectricityhummedtolifebeneaththeweightofhisgaze,andittookeveryounceofwillpowernottostepbackandshakeoffthestrangesensation.
“Gorgeousweatherforawalk.”Hisobservationwasevendrierthanhisstare.
Heatrushedoverthebackofmyneck.“It’snotthatbad.”
ItwasonlythenthatInoticedthealarmingrateatwhichthesnowwasthickening.Perhapstheblizzardforecasthadbeenalittle
offonitsestimate.
“Myapartmentisonlytwentyminutesaway,”Iaddedto…Ididn’tknow.ProvethatIwasn’tstupidbytrekkingthroughthecityinasnowstorm,Iguess.
Inhindsight,perhapsIshould’vetakentheMetro.
“Theblizzard’salreadyrollingin,andthereareicepatchesalloverthesidewalks.”Christianrestedhisforearmonthesteeringwheel—anactionthathadnorightbeingasattractiveasitwas.“I’llgiveyouaride.”
HealsolivedattheMirage,soitmadesense.Infact,hisapartmentwasonlyafloorabovemine.
Still,Ishookmyhead.
ThethoughtofsittinginaconfinedspacewithChristian,evenforafewminutes,filledmewithastrangesenseofpanic.
“I’mokay.I’msureyouhavebetterthingstodothanchauffeurmearound,andwalkingclearsmyhead.”Thewordsspilledoutinarush.Ididn’trambleoften,butwhenIdid,nothingshortofanuclearblastcouldstopme.“It’sgoodexercise,andIneedtotestoutmynewsnowbootsanyway.ThisisthefirsttimeI’vewornthemallseason.”Stoptalking.
“So,asmuchasIappreciateyouroffer,Ihavetopolitelydecline.”
Ifinishedmynearincoherentminispeechonanoteofbreathlessness.
Iwasgettingbetteratsayingno,butIstillover-explainedmyselfeverytime.
“Doesthatmakesense?”IaddedwhenChristianremainedsilent.
Anicygustofwindchosethatmomenttowhippast.Ittossedthehoodofmycoatoffmyheadandburrowedpastmylayersintomybones,sparkingaburstofinvoluntaryshivers.
I’dbeensweatingbulletsinthestudio,butnow,Iwassocoldeventhememoryofwarmthwasfrostedwithblue.
“Itdoes.”Christianfinallyspoke,histoneandexpressionunreadable.
“Good.”Thewordshookthroughmychatteringteeth.“ThenI’llletyou—”
Thesoftclick
ofadoorunlockinginterruptedme.
“Getinthecar,Stella.”
Igotinthecar.
Itoldmyselfitwasbecausethetemperaturehadsomehowdroppedtwentydegreesinthespaceoffiveminutes,butIknewthatwasalie.
Itwasthesoundofmyname,inthatvoice,deliveredwithsuchcalmauthoritymybodyobeyedbeforeIcouldprotest.
ForamanIbarelyknew,hehadmorepowerovermethanalmostanyoneelse.
Christianpulledawayfromthecurbandturnedadialonthedashboard.Asecondlater,heatblastedfromtheventsandwarmedmyfrigidskin.
Thecarsmelledlikerichleatherandexpensivespices,anditwaseerilyclean.Nowrappers,nohalf-emptycoffeecups,notevenaspeckoflint.
Isankdeeperintomyseatandglancedatthemannexttome.
“Youalwaysgetyourway,don’tyou?”Iaskedlightly,tryingtodissolvetheinexplicabletensionblanketingtheair.
Heslidabriefglanceinmydirectionbeforerefocusingontheroad.“Notalways.”
Insteadofdissolving,thetensionthickenedandslippedintomyveins.Hotandrestless,likeanemberwaitingforabreathofoxygentofanittolife.
Missionfailed.
Iturnedmyheadandstaredoutthewindshield,toothrownoffbytheday’seventstoattemptmoreconversation.
Thenervesscalingtheirwayupmychestandintomythroatdidn’thelp.
Iwassupposedtobethecool,calmone,theonewhosawthesilverliningineverycloudandremainedlevelheadednomatterthesituation.ThatwastheimageI’dprojectedmostofmylifebecausethatwaswhatwasexpectedofmeasanAlonso.
AnAlonsodidn’tsufferfromanxietyattacksorspendtheirnightsworryingabouteverylittlethingthatcouldgowrongthenextday.
AnAlonsodidn’tseektherapyorairtheirdirtylaundrytoastranger.
AnAlonsowassupposedtobeperfect
Itwistedmynecklacearoundmyfingeruntilitcutoffthecirculation.
MyparentswouldprobablyloveChristian.Onpaper,hewasasperfectastheycame.
Rich.Good-looking.Well-mannered.
IresenteditalmostasmuchasIresentedthewayhedominatedthespacearoundus,hispresencepouringintoeverynookandcreviceuntilitwastheonlythingIcouldconcentrateon.
Ifixedmyeyesontheroadahead,butmylungswerefilledwiththescentofhiscologneandmyskinthrummedwithawarenessatthewayhismusclesflexedwitheachturnofthewheel.
Ishouldn’thavegotteninthecar.
Besidesthewarmth,theonlyupsidewasthatIwouldgethometomyshowerandbedsooner.Icouldn’twait—
“Theplantsaredoingwell.”
Thestatementwasthrownoutsocasuallyandunexpectedlyittookmeseveralsecondstorealizethat1)someonehadbrokenthesilence,and2)thatsomeonewas,infact,Christianandnotafigmentofmyimagination.
“Excuseme?”
“Theplantsinmyapartment.”Hestoppedataredlight.“They’redoingwell.”
Whatdidthat…oh
Comprehensiondawned,followedbyatinyflickerofpride.
“I’mglad.”Igavehimatentativesmilenowthattheconversationwasinsafe,neutralterritory.“Theyjustneedalittleloveandattentiontothrive.”
“Andwater.”
Iblinkedathisobvious,deadpanstatement.“Andwater.”
ThewordshungbetweenusforamomentbeforealaughbrokefreefrommythroatandChristian’smouthcurvedintothetiniestofsmiles.
Theairfinallylightened,andtheknotinmychestloosenedasmidge.
Whenthelightturnedgreen,thepowerfulrumbleoftheenginenearlydrownedouthisnextwords.“Youhaveamagictouch.”
Mycheekswarmed,butIrespondedwithasmallshrug.“Ilikeplants.”
“Perfectpersonforthejob,then.”
HisplantshadbeenonlifesupportwhenItookovertheircareinexchangeforkeepingmycurrentrent.
Aftermyfriendandex-roommateJulesmovedoutlastmonthtolivewithherboyfriend,myoptionswereeithergetanotherroommateormoveoutoftheMirage,sinceIcouldn’taffordtocoverbothportionsofourrent.I’dgrownattachedtotheMirage,butIwouldratherdowngrademyhomethanlivewithastranger.Myanxietycouldn’thandlethat.
Christianhadalreadyloweredthemonthlyrentforuswhenwefirsttouredtheapartmentandmentionedtheregularpricewasoutofourbudget,soI’dbeenshockedwhenhe’dproposedourcurrentarrangementafterIbroughtupthepossibilityofmovingout.
Itwasalittlesuspicious,buthewasfriendswithmyotherfriend,Bridget’shusbandwhichmadeacceptinghisoffereasier.I’dbeentakingcareofhisplantsforfiveweeksandnothingterriblehadhappened.IneverevensawhimwhenIwentupstairs.Ijustletmyselfin,wateredtheplants,andleft.
“HowdidyouknowIcoulddoit?”Hecould’veproposedanynumberoftasks—runhiserrands,dohislaundry,cleanhishouse(thoughhealreadyhadafull-timehousekeeper).Theplantthingwasoddlyspecific.
“Ididn’t.”Disinterestandathreadofsomethingimperceptibletwinedthroughhisvoice.“Itwasaluckycoincidence.”
“Youdon’tseemlikesomeonewhobelievesincoincidence.”
Christian’slackofsentimentalitybledthroughineverythinghedidandwore—thesharplinesofhissuit,thecalmprecisionofhiswords,thecooldetachmentofhisgaze.
Theywerethetraitsofsomeonewhoworshippedlogic,power,andcold,hardpragmatism.Notsomethingasnebulousascoincidence.
Forsomereason,Christianfoundthatfunny.“Ibelieveinitmorethanyouthink.”
Intriguekindledathisself-deprecatingtone.
Despitehavingaccesstohisapartment,Iknewmaddeninglylittleabouthim.Hispenthousewasastudyinflawlessdesignandluxury,butitcontainedlittletonopersonaleffects.
“Caretoshare?”Itried.
ChristianpulledintotheMirage’sprivategarageandparkedinhisreservedspotnearthebackentrance.
Noanswer.
Thenagain,Ihadn’texpectedone.
ChristianHarperwasamancloakedinrumorsandshadows.EvenBridgetdidn’tknowmuchabouthim,onlyhisreputation.
Wedidn’tspeakagainaswepassedthroughtheentranceandintothelobby
Atsixfootthree,Christianhadagoodfiveinchesonme,butIwasstilltallenoughtomatchhislongstrides.
Ourstepsfellintoperfectsyncagainstthemarblefloors.
I’dalwaysbeenabitself-consciousaboutmyheight,butChristian’spowerfulpresencewrappedaroundlikemeasecurityblanket,drawingattentionawayfrommyAmazonianframe.
“Nomorewalkinginablizzard,Ms.Alonso.”Westoppedbythebankofelevatorsandfacedeachother.Hisshadowofasmilereturned,alllazycharmandconfidence.“Ican’thaveoneofmytenantsdyingofhypothermia.Itwouldbebadforbusiness.”
Anotherunexpectedlaughrustledmythroat.“I’msureyou’llfindsomeonetoreplacemeinnotime.”
Iwasn’tsurewhetherIowedmyslightbreathlessnesstothecoldlingeringinmylungsorthefullimpactofstandingsoclosetohim.
Iwasn’tinterestedinChristianromantically.Iwasn’tinterestedinanyone
romantically;betweenthemagazineandmyblog,Ididn’thavetimetoeventhinkaboutdating.
Butthatdidn’tmeanIwasimmunetohispresence.
Somethingflaredbrightinthosewhiskeyeyesbeforeitcooled.“Likelynot.”
Themildbreathlessnesstransformedintosomethingheavierthatstrangledmyvoice.
EverysentenceoutofhismouthwasacodeIcouldn’tcrack,imbuedwithahiddenmeaningonlyhewasprivytowhileIwaslefttoscrambleinthedark.
I’dtalkedtoChristianthreetimesinmylife:oncewhenIsignedmylease,onceinpassingatBridget’swedding,andoncewhenwediscussedmysans-Julesrentsituation.
Allthreetimes,I’dleftmoreunsettledthanbefore.
Whatwerewetalkingaboutagain?
It’dbeenlessthanaminutesinceChristian’sresponse,butthatminutehadstretchedsoslowitmightaswellhavebeenaneternity.
“Christian.”
Adeep,slightlyaccentedvoiceslashedthethreadholdingoursuspendedmomentaloft.
Timesnappedbacktoitsusualcadence,andmybreathexpelledinonesharprushbeforeIturnedmyhead.
Tall.Darkhair.Oliveskin.
Thenewcomerwasn’tasclassicallygood-lookingasChristian,buthefilledoutthelinesofhisDelamontesuitwithsomuchrawmasculinityitwasdifficulttolookaway.
“IhopeI’mnotinterrupting.”DelamonteSuitflickedaglanceinmydirection.
I’dneverbeensuperattractedtooldermen,andhehadtobeinhismidtolatethirties,butwow
“Notatall.You’rerightontime.”AhintofirritationhardenedChristian’sotherwisesmoothreply.Hesteppedinfrontofme,blockingmefromDelamonteSuit’sviewandviceversa.
Theothermanraisedaneyebrowbeforehismaskofindifferencefellawaytorevealasmirk.
HesteppedaroundChristian,sodeliberatelyitwasalmostlikehewastauntinghim,andheldouthishand.“DanteRusso.”
“StellaAlonso.”
Iexpectedhimtoshakemyhand,buttomysurprise,heraiseditandbrushedhismouthacrossmyknucklesinstead
Comingfromanyoneelse,itwould’vebeencheesy,butatingleofpleasureeruptedinstead.
Maybeitwastheaccent.IhadaweaknessforallthingsItalian.
“Dante.”BeneaththecalmsurfaceofChristian’svoicelayarazorededgethatwassharpenoughtocutthroughbone.“We’relateforourmeeting.”
Danteappearedunfazed.Hishandlingeredonmineforanextrasecondbeforehereleasedit.
“Itwaslovelytomeetyou,Stella.I’msureI’llseeyouaroundagain.”Hisrichdrawlcontainedahintoflaughter.
Isuspectedhisamusementwasdirectednotatmebuttowardthemanwatchinguswithiceinhiseyes.
“Thankyou.Itwasnicemeetingyoutoo.”IalmostsmiledatDante,butsomethingtoldmethatwouldn’tbeasmartmoverightnow.“Haveagoodnight.”
IglancedatChristian.“Goodnight,Mr.Harper.Thankyoufortheride.”
Iinjectedaplayfulliltintomyvoice,hopingthecallbacktoourabsurdformalityearlierwouldcrackhisgraniteexpression.
Butitdidn’tsomuchasflickerasheinclinedhishead.“Goodnight,Ms.Alonso.”
Okay,then.
IleftChristianandDanteinthelobby,thesubjectsofmorethanafewadmiringstaresfrompassersby,andtooktheelevatoruptomyapartment.
Ididn’tknowwhathadcausedChristian’ssuddenmoodshift,butIhadenoughworriesofmyownwithoutaddinghistothemix.
Irifledthroughthebag,tryingtolocatemykeysamongthejumbleofmakeup,receipts,andhairties.
Ireallyneededabetterwayoforganizingmybag.
Afterseveralminutesofsearching,myhandclosedaroundthemetalkey.
I’djustinserteditintothelockwhenafamiliarchillsweptovermyskinandraisedthehairsonthebackofmyneck.
Myheadjerkedup.
Therewasnoothersignoflifeinthehall,butthequiethumoftheheatingsystemsuddenlytookonanominoustone.
MemoriesoftypednotesandcandidphotosturnedmybreathsshallowbeforeIblinkedthemaway.
Stopbeingparanoid.
Iwasn’tlivinginanold,unsecuredhousenearcampusanymore.IwasattheMirage,oneofthemostwell-guardedresidentialbuildingsinD.C.,andIhadn’theardfromhim
intwoyears.
Thechancesofhimshowinguphere,ofallplaces,wereslimtonone.
Nevertheless,urgencybrokethespellfreezingmylimbsinplace.Iquicklyunlockedthefrontdoorandshutitbehindme.ThelightsblazedonasIslidthedeadboltinplace.
ItwasonlyafterIcheckedeveryroominmyapartmentandconfirmedtherewasnointruderlurkinginmyclosetorunderneathmybedthatIwasabletorelax.
Everythingwasfine.He
wasn’tback,andIwassafe.
Butdespitemyself-reassurance,asmallpartofmecouldn’tshakethesensethatmyguthadbeenrightandthatsomeonehad
beenwatchingmeinthehall.2
CHRISTIAN
Thelibrarydoor
shutwithaquietclickbehindme.
Icrossedtheroom,mystepsslowanddeliberate,untilIreachedthesittingareawhereDantehadmadehimselfcomfortablewithaglassofscotch.
Amusclepulsedinmyjaw.
Ifwedidn’thavesuchalonghistorytogether,andifIdidn’towehimforthefavorhedidme,hisheadwouldalreadybeshatteredonthebarcartnearhim.
Notonlyforhelpinghimselftomyliquor,butforhislessthanamusingshowinthelobby.
Ididn’tlikepeopletouchingwhatwasmine.
“Lightenthatscowl,Harper.”Dantetookalazysipofhisdrink.“Otherwise,it’llfreezethatway,andwomenwon’tlikeyourfaceasmuchanymore.”
MycoldsmiletoldhimhowlittleIcared.“Perhapsifyoutookyourownadvice,youwouldn’tbesleepinginadifferentroomthanyourfiancée.”
Satisfactionfilledmychestathisnarrowedeyes.IfStellawasmyweakness,Vivianwashis.
Iwasn’tinterestedintheinsandoutsoftheirrelationship,butitamusedmetoseehimsnarleverytimeIbroughtupthefiancéeheclaimedtohate.
IthoughtIhadproblems.Dantehadtwobilliondollarsworthofthem.
“Pointtaken,”hesaidinaclippedvoice.Allhumorvanished,bringingbacktheunsmilingassholeIwasusedtodealingwith.“ButIdidn’tcomeheretodiscussVivianorStella,solet’sgettotherealissueathand.Whenthefuck
canIgetridofthepainting?Thething’saneyesore.”
Iforcedthoughtsofdarkcurlsandgreeneyesasideatthementionoftheotherenigmaticwomaninmylife.
Magda
,thepaintingthathadbeenthebaneofmyexistencefordecades.Notbecauseofwhatitwasbutbecauseofwhatitrepresented.
“Noonetoldyoutohangitinyourgallery.”Iwalkedtothebarandpouredmyselfadrink.Dante,thatbastard,hadn’trecappedthebottleofmyfinestscotch.“YoucanshoveitinthebackofyourclosetforallIcare.”
“IpayallthatmoneyforMagda
onlytoshoveitinthebackofmycloset?Thatwouldn’tbesuspiciousatall.”Sarcasmweighedheavyonhisvoice
“Youhaveaproblem;Iprovidedasolution.”Igaveacarelessshrug.“Notmyfaultyoudon’twanttotakeit.Andfortherecord…”Isettledontheseatoppositehis.“I
paidforthepainting.”
Secretly,anyway.Asfarasthepublicknew,DanteRussowastheproudownerofoneoftheugliestpiecesofartworkinexistence.Thenagain,peoplealsothoughtsaidhideouspiecewasapricelesspaintingworthkillingandstealingoverthankstoasimplesetofforgeddocuments.
Ihadn’twantedpeoplegoingafterit,butI’dneededanexcuseforwhyI’dspentsomanyresourcesguardingit
Itdidn’tcontainearth-shatteringbusinesssecretslikeeveryonethought.Butithad
containedsomethingpersonalthatI’dnevershare.
Heexaminedmeoverthetopofhisglass.“Whydoyoustillcaresomuchaboutit?Yougotwhatyouneededfromit,andyoufoundyourtraitor.Justburnthedamnthing.After
Isellitbacktoyou,”headded.“Forappearances’sake.”
“Ihavemyreasons.”
One,tobeexact,buthewouldn’tbelievemeifItoldhim.
Icouldn’tbeartodestroythepainting.Itwastooembeddedinthejaggedpiecesofmypast.
Iwasn’tasentimentalperson,butthereweretwoareasofmylifewheremyusualpragmatismdidn’tapply:StellaandMagda.
UnfortunatelyforAxel,theex-employeewho’dstolenMagdaandpawneditofftoSentinel,mybiggestfuckingcompetitor,hehadn’tfallenintotheexceptionscategory.
He’dthoughtthepaintingcontainedhighlyclassified,andthereforehighlylucrative,businesssecretsbecausethatwaswhatItoldthefewpeopleI’dentrustedtoguardit.
Littlehadtheyknownthepainting’svaluestemmedfromsomethingfarmorepersonalandfarlessusefultothem.
I’ddispatchedofAxel,waitedanappropriatelengthoftimeforSentineltorelax,thenfuckedwiththeircybersystemenoughthatit’dwipedmillionsofftheirvalue.Notenoughtodestroythem,sincesomethingofthatmagnitudecouldbetracedbacktome,butenoughtosendamessage.
TheidiotsrunningSentinelweresodensetheytriedtostealthepaintingback
aftertheysolditbecausetheythoughttheycoulduseitasretaliationagainstme.
Theyhadn’tfoundanybusinesssecretsinMagda,buttheyknewitwasimportanttome.Theywereontherighttrack;I’dgivethemthat.Buttheyshould’vehiredsomeoneotherthanasecond-rateOhiogangmembertodothejob.
Sentinel’sattempttocoveruptheirtrackswassoshoddyitwasalmostinsulting.
NowthepaintingwasinDante’scare,whichservedadoublepurpose:Ididn’thavetolookatit,andnoone,notevenSentinel,woulddaretryandstealfromhim.
Thelastpersonwho’dtriedendedupinathree-monthcomawithtwomissingfingers,amangledface,andcrushedribs.
Dantemadeanimpatientnoise,buthewassmartenoughnottopressfurther
“Fine,butI’mnotkeepingitforever.It’sruiningmyreputationasacollector,”hegrumbled.
“Everyonethinksit’sararepieceofeighteenth-centuryart.You’refine,”Isaiddryly.
Inreality,thepaintinghadexistedforlessthantwodecades.
Itwasamazinghoweasyitwastoforge“priceless”artanddocumentationattestingtoitsauthenticity.
“I’llgoblindfromlookingatthatmonstrosityeveryday.”Danterubbedathumbacrosshisbottomlip.“Speakingofmonstrosities,MadiganwasofficiallybootedfromValhallathismorning.”
Theatmosphereshiftedwiththeweightofthenewtopic.
“Goodriddance.”
Ihadnolovelostfortheoiltycooncurrentlybeingsuedbyhalfadozenex-employeesforsexualharassmentandassault.
Madiganhadalwaysbeenaslimeball.Thiswasjustthefirsttimehe’dbeenheldaccountable.
TheValhallaClubprideditselfonitsexclusive,invite-onlymembershipsfortheworld’swealthiestandmostpowerful.Agoodnumberofthosemembers,includingmyself,engagedinlessthanlegalactivities.
Buteventheclubhaditslimits,anditcertainlydidn’twanttogetdraggedintothemediacircussurroundingMadigan’strial.
Iwasonlysurprisedtheyhadn’texiledhimearlier.
DanteandIdiscussedthetrialandbusinessforawhileuntilheexcusedhimselftotakeacall.
AstheCEOoftheRussoGroup,aluxurygoodsconglomeratethatencompassedoverthreedozenfashion,beauty,andlifestylebrands,hespenthalfhiswakinghoursonbusinesscalls.
Intheabsenceofconversation,myminddriftedtowardacertainbrunette.
Ifmythoughtswerechaos,shewasmyanchor.
Theyalwayswentbacktoher.
Thememoryofherwalkingdownthesnow-coveredstreet,herhairtossedwildbythewindandhereyesshininglikejade,lingeredinmybrain.Thewarmthofher,likearayofsunshinepeekingoutafterastorm,lingeredeverywhereelse.
Ishouldn’thaveloweredherrentwhenshecametoseethebuilding,andIdamnwellshouldn’thaveletherkeep
therentafterJulesmovedout.Inexchangefortakingcareofmyfuckingplants,noless,becauseaselflessconcessiononmypartwould’vebeentoosuspicious.
Ididn’tgiveashitaboutthoseplants.Theywereonlytherebecausemyinteriordesignerinsistedthey“roundedouttheapartment.”ButIknewStellalovedplants,anditwasbetterthanaskinghertofilemypapers.
Livinginthesamebuildingasherwastheworstkindofdistraction,andIhadnooneexceptmyselftoblame.
Twinflamesofresentmentandfrustrationburnedinmychest.IwasweakforStellaAlonso,andIhatedit.
IpulledoutmyphoneandalmosttappedintoacertainsocialmediaappbeforeIcaughtmyself.Ienteredthecodeformyencryptedmobilenetworkinstead.
Itwasn’taspowerfulastheonethatresidedonmylaptop,butitgotthejobdoneinapinch.
Myfrustrationneededanoutlet,andtoday,JohnMadiganwastheluckytarget.Icouldn’tthinkofanyonemoredeserving.
Ipulledupalistofhisdevices.Phones,computers,evenhissmartfridgeandBluetooth-enabledalarmclock,plusalltheirassociatedaccounts.
IttookmelessthanfiveminutestofindwhatIwaslookingfor—avideohe’dstupidlytakenofhimselfforcingablowjobonhisassistant,andaseriesofdisgustingmessageshesentoneofhisgolfbuddiesafterthefact.
Iforwardedthosetotheprosecutionusingthegolfbuddy’semail.Iftheywerehalfwaydecentattheirjob,theycouldconvincethejudgeitwasadmissibleevidence.
Themessagesalsowenttokeymediaoutlets,becausewhynot?
Then,justbecauseMadigan’sfaceannoyedme,Iswappedhismostvaluablestocksforjunkonesanddonatedasignificantchunkofhiscashtoanti-sexualviolenceorganizations.
Tensionreleasedfrommymuscleswitheachtapofabutton.
Cybersabotagewasbetterthanadeeptissuemassage.
IpocketedmyphonerightasDantereenteredthelibrary.
“IhavetogobacktoNewYork.”Hegrabbedhisjacketfromthebackofthecouch,hisfacestampedwithirritation.“There’sa…personalmatterIneedtodealwith.”
“Sorrytohearthat,”Isaidmildly.“I’llwalkyouout.”
IwaiteduntilhewashalfwayoutthedoorbeforeIadded,“Thepersonalmatterwouldn’thappentobeVivian’sex-boyfriendshowingupatyourhouse,wouldit?”
Surprisecoastedthroughhiseyes,followedbyfury.“Whatthefuckdidyoudo,Harper?”
“Imerelyfacilitatedareunionbetweenyourfiancéeandanoldfriend.”Onelittletextfrom“Vivian,”andtheexcamerunning.Pathetic,yetuseful.“Sinceyouenjoyedfuckingwithmesomuch,IfiguredI’dreturnthefavor.Oh,andDante?”Ipausedwithmyhandontheknob.Dante’sangerwasapulsingforceinthehall,buthe’dgetoverit.Heshould’veknownbetterthantoputonthatlittleshowinthelobby.“TouchStellaagain,andyou’llnolongerhave
afiancée.”
Islammedthedoorinhisface.
Dantewasmyfirstclientandanoldfriend.Ididn’tprovokehimoften.
ButlikeIsaid,Ididn’tlikepeopletouchingwhatwasmine.
Istraightenedmyshirtsleevesandreturnedtothelibrary,wheremygazetraveledthelengthoftheroomuntilitrestedonthegiantframedpuzzlehangingoverthefireplacemantel.
Tenthousandtinypiecesformedabreathtakingrainbowgradientwhoselinescreatedathree-dimensionalsphericaleffect.
Ithadtakenmefourmonthstocompleteit,butit’dbeenworthit.
Crosswords,jigsaws,ciphers,theyallfedmyinsatiableneedforachallenge.Stimulation.Something
tobrightenuptheennuiofaworldthatwasalwaysfivestepsbehind.
Theharderthepuzzle,themoreIcravedanddreadeditssolution.
TherewasonlyonepuzzleIhadn’tsolved.Yet.
Iranmythumboverthesmallturquoiseringnestledinmypocket.
OnceIdid,IcouldputmydisturbingobsessionwithStellaAlonsobehindmeonceandforall.3
STELLA
Stella’sJournal
February
25
It’sbeenthreedayssinceIlearnedGreenfieldisraisingitsprices,andIstillhaven’tcomeupwithagoodsolution.
I’vebeensearchingforanotherjob,butmybiggesthoperightnowistheDelamontedinnercomingup.Bradyisconvincedit’sanauditionfortheirbrandambassadorpositionandthatthedealwillbeinthemid-sixfigures…IFIgetit.
Idon’tthinkI’veeverwantedadealasbadlyasIdothisone.NotonlywoulditsolvemyGreenfieldproblem—atleastforthenextcalendaryear—butDelamonteisabrandI’vewantedtoworkwithforever.They’rethefirstdesignerbrandIeverboughtformyself.
Okay,itwasaperfumethatIboughtinhighschool,butstill.Ilovedthatperfume,andIwouldhonestlygiveupeveryotherpartnershipIhavetoworkwiththem.
IjustwishIknewwhattheywerelookingforsoIcanplanaccordingly.Idon’tevenknowhowmanyotherbloggerswillbeatthedinnerorwhotheyinvited.
IguessI’llfindoutwhenIgetthere.
Inthemeantime…wishmeluck.I’llneedit.
DailyGratitude:
Croissants
DC-NYCtrains
Brady(don’ttellhimIsaidthisthough,orhe’llneverstopbragging)
***
Mytrip
toNewYorkwasaseriesofdisasters.
ItookatrainupthatSaturday,andwhenIarrivedatthetownhousewheretheDelamontedinnerwasbeingheld,IknewBradywasright.Itwasanaudition.
BesidesDelamontestaff,theonlypeopleinattendancewerebloggers.
Buteventhoughthereweresixofusatthedinner,LuisaspenttheentirecocktailhourgushingoverRayaandAdam,thelatestdarlingsoftheinfluencerworldandtheonlycouplepresent.
IcouldbarelygetawordinedgewisebetweenherexcitementoverRayahittingtheonepointfourmillion
followermarklastweekandthepair’supcomingtriptoParis.
TheonetimeItriedtointerjectbyaskingaquestionaboutthebrand’snewline,Luisaansweredwithathree-wordresponsebeforeturningbacktoRaya
Ifmyparentswerehere,theywoulddisownmeoutofsheerdisappointmentfornotlivinguptotheAlonsonameandcapturingeveryone’sattentionattheevent.
Thatwasdisasternumberone.
Disasternumbertwoenteredaftereveryonehadbeenseatedandappetizerswereserved.
“SorryI’mlate.”Thelazydrawlsentshockflutteringtolifeinmychest.“Traffic.”
No.There’snoway.
IhadabetterchanceofgettinghitbyameteoritethanIdidrunningintoChristianHarpertwiceinthesameweekoutsidetheMirage.InNewYork,
noless.
ButwhenIlookedup,therehewas.
Chiseledcheekbonesandwhiskeyeyes,sinanddangerallwrappedupinaflawlesssuit.
Myfoodturnedtoashonmytongue.OfallthepeopleIdidn’twanttowitnessmecrashandburn,herankedatthetopofthelist.
NotbecauseIthoughthe’djudgeme,butbecauseIwasafraidhewouldn’t.
Anear-strangerwhotreatedmebetterthanthosewhoweresupposedtolovemeunconditionally.
Iwouldn’tbeabletobearit.
Luisastoodandgreetedhimwithaneffusivehug,butIcouldn’thearmuchofherintroductionovertheroarofbloodinmyears.
“…CEOofHarperSecurity…oldfriend…”
Christian’sexpressionremainedpolite,almostdisinterested,whileLuisatalked,buttherewasnothingdisinterestedaboutthewayhiseyesheldmine.
Darkandknowing,liketheycouldstripawayeverymaskIshowedtheworldandfindthebrokenpiecesofthegirlhidingunderneath.
Liketheythoughtthebrokennesswasbeautifulanyway.
Uneaseburnedthroughme,andIseveredtheconnectionwithablink.
Hecouldn’thavebeenthinkinganyofthosethings.
Hedidn’tevenknowme.
Luisafinishedwhathadtobethelongestintroductioninthehistoryofintroductions,butitwasonlyafterChristianstartedwalkingtowardmethatIrealizedtherewasonlyoneemptyseatatthetable.
Itwasnexttomine.
Luisahadmentioneditwasreservedforanotherguest.Ihadn’tknownitwouldbehim.
“Stella.”Thedeep,smoothtimbreofhisvoicesentawarmshiverdownmyspine.“Thisisapleasantsurprise.”
Itightenedandreleasedtheholdonmyforkintandemwithmyexhales.
“Christian.”Icouldn’tverywellcallhimMr.Harperwhenheusedmyfirstname.
Itwasmyfirsttimesayinghisgivenname,andthesyllableslingeredlongeronmytonguethanexpected.Notunpleasant,butfartoointimateformyliking.
Iresistedtheurgetoshiftinmyseatwhilehestareddownatme,hisfacerelaxedbuthiseyeslikehotmoltenamberastheymovedfromthetopofmyheadtothedipofmydress.
Thescrutinylastedlessthanfiveseconds,yetatrailoffireeruptedinitswake.
Cool,calm,collected.
“Ididn’trealizeyouwere…”Isearchedfortherightterm.“AffiliatedwithDelamonte.”
Thatwasn’ttherightterm,butIdidn’tknowhowelsetowordit.EveryoneatthetablewasafashionbloggeroramemberoftheDelamonteteam.Christianwasnoticeablyneitherofthosethings.
“I’mnot,”hesaidwryly.
“Secretfashionblogger,then?”Iwidenedmyeyesandmademyvoiceintentionallybreathlesswithsurprise.“Don’ttellme.Yourblogiscalled…SuitsandWhiskey.No?GunsandRoses.Wait,that’saband.”Itappedmyfingeragainstthetable.“Tiesand—”
“Ifyou’redone…”Ididn’tthinkitwaspossible,butChristian’svoiceturnedevendrier.“Switchseatswithme.”
Mytappingstopped.“Why?”
HehadaprimeseatnexttoLuisa,whowastoobusytalkingto—whoelse—RayaonherothersidetonoticeChristianhadn’ttakenhisseatyet.
“Idislikethecornerofthetable.”
Mystarewasoneofdisbelief.“Whatdoyoudoifit’safour-seater?”Thenevery
seatwouldbeatthecornerofthetable.
Impatiencegreetedmyquestion.
Isighedandswitchedseatswithhim.Wewerestartingtoattractattentionfromtherestofthetable,andIdidn’twanttomakeascene.
IwasnervousLuisawouldbeupsetItookherspecialguest’sseat,butasthenightworeon,Christian’sweirdquirkturnedouttobequiteadvantageousforme.
InowhaddirectaccesstoLuisa,whodidn’tseemupsetatallandwhofinallyturnedtomeafterRayaexcusedherselftousetherestroom.
“ThankyouforcominguptoNewYork.Iknowit’sabiggeraskofyouthantheothergirls.”Luisa’scocktailringglitteredbeneaththelightsasshesippedherdrink.
“Ofcourse.”Likeanyone
wouldturndownaninvitetoaprivateDelamontedinner.“Iwouldn’thavemisseditfortheworld.”
“I’mcuriouswhyyoudon’tmovetothecity.TherearemoreopportunitiesherethaninD.C.ifyouwanttogetintofashion.”Shesoundedequalpartscuriousanddisapproving,likeIwasintentionallybeingobtusebynotseekinggreenergrasselsewhere.
AcottonballformedinmythroatattheindirectreminderofMauraandwhatwasatstake.
“Iwanttobeclosetofamily.”Maurawaslikefamily,soIwasn’tcompletely
lying.“ButI’mconsideringamovesoon.”
Alsonotlying.Iwas
consideringamove.Ijustknewitcouldn’thappenanytimesoon.
“Bytheway,congratulationsonawonderfulFashionWeek.”Iswitchedsubjectstosomethingmorerelevant.Iwasn’theretotalkaboutmypersonallife;Iwasheretolandadeal.“Iespeciallylovedthepasteldusters.”
Luisalitupatthementionofthebrand’slatestfall/wintercollection,andsoon,weweredeepinconversationaboutthetrendswe’dspottedatlastweek’sNewYorkFashionWeek.
Icouldn’tattendinpersonbecauseofwork—onlysenioreditorsatD.C.Style,
likeMeredith,werebudgetedtoattendNYFW—butI’dcaughtuponmyanticipatedshowsonline.
WhenRayareturnedfromthebathroom,herfacesouredatthesightofmeandLuisachattinganimatedly.
Itriedmybesttoignoreher.
Onceuponatime,RayaandIhadbeenfriends.She’dstartedheraccounttwoyearsagoandreachedouttomeforadvice.I’dbeenhappytosharewhatIknew,butaftershesurpassedmeinfollowersafewmonthsago,she’dstoppedansweringmymessages.Theonlycontactwehadthesedayswastheoccasionalhelloatanevent.
HermeteoricrisecouldbetraceddirectlytoherrelationshipwithAdam,whowasabiginfluencerhimselfinthetravelspace.Whentheystarteddatinglastyear,theircontentwentviralandboththeiraccountsexploded.
Therewasnothinglikecross-promotionandfeedingthepublic’svoyeuristicdesiretofollowthelovelivesofstrangers.
Meanwhile,I’dbeenbloggingforalmostadecade,andmyaccounthadbeenstuckatjustshyofninehundredthousandfollowersforoverayear.Itwasstillahugeaudience,andIwasgratefulforeachandeveryoneofthem(exceptthebotsandcreepymenwhotreatedInstagramlikeitwasahookupapp),butIcouldn’tdenythetruth.
Mysocialmediawasstagnating,andIhadnocluehowtoreviveit.
Ifalteredandlostmytrainofthoughtinthemiddleofasentence.
Rayaswoopedintothelulllikeavultureafterprey.“Luisa,I’dlovetohearaboutDelamonte’sfabricarchiveinMilan,”shesaid,pullingtheCEO’sattentionbacktoher.“AdamandIarevisitingItalythisspring,and…”
FrustrationbitatmyveinsasRayasuccessfullyhijackedtheconversation.
Iopenedmymouthtointerruptthem.Icouldsee
myselfdoingitinmyhead,butinreallife,thewordscouldn’tmakeitpastthefilterofmyupbringingandlifelongsocialanxiety.
Disasternumberthree.
Toanyoneelse,Raya’sinterruptionwouldn’trisetothelevelofadisaster,butmybraincouldn’talwaysuntanglethedifferencebetweenasetbackandacatastrophe.
“Youdidwell.”
MyheartskippedabeatatChristian’svoicebeforeitreturnedtoitsnormalrhythm.“With?”
“Luisa.”Hetiltedhisheadtowardtheotherwoman.Ihadn’trealizedhe’dbeenpayingattentiontoourconversation;he’dbeenconversingwiththeguestonhisothersidetheentiretime.“Shelikesyou.”
Igavehimadoubtfulstare.“Wetalkedforfiveminutes.”
“Itonlytakesonetomakeanimpression.”
“Oneminuteisn’tenoughtogettoknowsomeone.”
“Ididn’tsaygettoknowsomeone.”Christianbroughthiswinetohislips,hiswordsrelaxedyetperceptive.“Isaidmakeanimpression.”
“WhatimpressiondidImakeonyou?”
Thequestionsparkedandhissedlikealivewirebetweenus,swallowingenoughoxygentomakeeverybreathastruggle.
Christiansethisglassdownwithaprecisionthatpulsedinmyveins.“Don’taskquestionsyoudon’twanttheanswerto.”
Surprisetingedwithhurtbloomedinmychest.“Thatbad?”
FromwhatIremembered,ourfirstmeetinghadbeenfairlystandard.I’dsaidatotaloftwowordstohim.
“No.”Thewordwasaroughcaressagainstmyskin.“Thatgood.”
Warmthsuffusedmyskin.
“Oh.”Iswallowedthebreathlessnoteinmyvoice.“Well,incaseyouwerewondering,myfirstimpressionofyouwasthatyouwereverywell-dressed.”
That’dbeenmysecondimpression.Myfirstimpressionhadactuallybeenthatface.
Soperfectlychiseledandsymmetricalitshouldbestampedinsidetextbooksasaprimeexampleofthegoldenratio.
ButIwouldn’tadmitthatevenifChristianputaguntomyhead.
IfIdid,hemightthinkIwasflirtingwithhim,andthatwouldopenacanofwormsIdidn’twanttodealwith.
“Goodtoknow.”Hisdrytonereturned.
Theserversbroughtoutdessert,whichhedeclinedwithashakeofhishead
ItookabiteoflayeredchocolatecakebeforeIasked,ascasuallyasIcould,“HowdoyouknowLuisalikesme?”
“Iknow.”
IfthiswasthewayChristianconductedallhisconversations,Iwassurprisednoonehadtriedtostabhiminaboardroomyet.Ormaybethey’dtriedandfailed.
“Thatdoesn’tanswermyquestion.”
“Lu,areyoucomingdowntoD.C.anytimesoon?”heasked,ignoringmypointedresponseandcuttingintoLuisa’sconversationwithRayaliketheotherbloggerwasn’teventhere.
“Noplansyet.”Luisagavehimacuriousstare.“Why?”
“Stellawastellingmeaboutthisspotthatwouldbeperfectforyourmenswearshoot.”
Ialmostchokedonamouthfulofcake.
“Really?”
Luisaeyedmewithrenewedinterest.“Thatwouldbeperfecttiming.Ourlocationscouthasbeenhavingthehardesttimefindingaspotthat’sonthemeandnotoverdone.Whereisit?”
“It’s…”IscrambledtocomeupwithananswerwhilesilentlycursingChristianforputtingmeonthespotlikethis.
WhatplaceinD.C.makessenseforamenswearshoot?
“Yousaiditwasanoldwarehousesomewhere,”Christianprompted.
Claritydawnedinaninstant.
TherewasanoldindustrialbuildingonthefringesofthecitythatI’veshotatafewtimes.Itwasabustlingfactoryuntilthe1980s,whentheownermovedhisheadquarterstoPhiladelphia.Intheabsenceofnewowners,thebuildingfellintodisrepairandbecameovergrownwithweedsandivy.
Itwasatrektogetthere,butthecontrastofgreenagainstoldsteelprovidedastrikingbackdropforphotoshoots,especiallyluxuryones.
HowdoesChristianknowaboutthat?
“Right.”IreleasedasmallbreathandsmiledatLuisa.“Itdoesn’thaveanactualaddress,butI’mhappytoshowyouorateammemberhowtogetthereifthat’ssomethingyou’reinterestedin.”
Shetappedhernailsagainstthetableinthought.“It’sverypossible.Doyouhavesamplephotos?”
IpulledupsomeofmyoldphotosandshowedthemtoLuisa,whoseeyebrowspoppedupwithapproval.
“Oh,thosearegorgeous
.Canyousendthemtome?Ihavetoshowthemtoourscout…”
MyheartskippedwhenLuisagavemehercellnumbersoIcouldtextherthelink,butwhenIlookedup,thethrillevaporatedatthesightofRayaandAdamwhisperingfuriouslytoeachotherwhilecastingsideglancesinmydirection.
Anxietybuzzedbeneathmyskinlikeaswarmofbees.
ThosewhispersbroughtmebacktomymiddleschooldayswheneveryonegiggledandtalkedbehindtheirhandswhenIwalkedintoaroom.I’dhitmygrowthspurtearly,andatagethirteen,I’dbeentall,skinny,andawkwardenoughtobeaneasytargetforbullies.
I’vesincegrownintomyownskin,buttheanxietyhadnevergoneaway.
“Whydon’tyouletusinonyourjoke?”Christian’scasualrequestmaskedadarkundertonethatwipedthesmilesoffRaya’sandAdam’sfaces.“Itmustbeagoodone.”
“Weweretalkingaboutsomethingpersonal.”Rayarolledhereyes,butherexpressioncontainedahintofnerves.
“Isee.Nexttime,refrainfromdoingsoatapublicevent.It’sdisrespectful.”ThecontentofChristian’srebukewasmild,buthedelivereditwithsuchviciouscontemptRaya’sfaceflushedcrimson.
Insteadofdefendinghisgirlfriend,Adamstareddownathisplate,hisownfacepale.
Theexchangehadbeensoshortandheldinsuchlowtonestherestofthetablewasoblivious.EvenLuisadidn’tnotice;shewastoobusytextingsomeone(probablyherlocationscout).
“Thankyou,”Isaidquietly,wishingIwasboldenoughtocalloutRayamyself.
“Theywereannoyingme,”wasChristian’sdetachedanswer.
Nevertheless,warmthsettledinmystomachandstayedwithmethroughtherestofdinnerandtheend-of-nightgoodbyes.
BythetimeIexitedthetownhousehalfanhourlater,Ifeltmarginallybetteraboutmyambassadorshipchances,butitwasfarfromasurething.IwasstillconvincedLuisafavoredRaya,nomatterwhatChristiansaid.
Speakingofwhom…
Islidasideglanceathimashefellintostepwithme.IwasstayingataboutiquehotelnotfarfromLuisa’splace,butIdoubtedChristianwasstayingthereaswell.Heprobablyhadaplaceinthecity;attheveryleast,he’dstaysomewherelikeTheCarlyleorTheFourSeasons,notaneight-roomhotelwithnodesigneramenities.
“Areyoufollowingme?”Iaskedlightlyasweturnedthecornerontoasidestreet.
Christian’spresencedominatedthesidewalk,soakingintotheshadowsandrenderingtheairaroundusinvincible.Soquietandlethaleventhedarknessdidn’tdaretouchhim.
“Merelymakingsureyoureturntoyourhotelsafeandsound,”hedrawled.
“Firstthecarridetheotherday,nowthis.Doyoualwaysprovideyourtenantswithsuchhands-onservice?”
Asmokygleampassedthroughthosewhiskeyeyesandsentheatrushingtomycheeks,butChristianrefrainedfrommakingtheobviousjoke.
“No.”Shortandsimple,deliveredwiththeself-assuranceofsomeonewhoneverhadtoexplainhimself.
Wewalkedinsilenceforanotherminutebeforehesaid,“Toansweryourearlierquestion,IknowshelikesyoubecauseIknowLuisa.Itsoundscounterintuitive,butwhenevershe’simpressedwithsomeone,sheputsthemonthebackburner.She’smoreinterestedingrillingthoseshe’snotsureabout.”
IwasalreadysousedtohisabrupttopicchangesIdidn’tskipabeat.
“Maybe.”I’llbelieveitwhenIseeit,a.k.a.getthedeal.“Howdoyouknowhersowell?”
LuisawastwentyyearsolderthanChristian,butthatdidn’tmeananything.Olderwomensleptwithyoungermeneveryday.Itwouldexplainthewayshelitupwhenshesawhim.
AtinyfrowncreasedmyforeheadforareasonIcouldn’tname.
“I’mfriendswithhernephew.Andno,Ineversleptwithher.”Ahintoflaughterthreadedthroughhisvoice.
Mycheeksblazedhotter,butthankfully,myvoicecameoutcoolandeven.“Thankyoufortheinformation,butI’mnotinterestedinyourlovelife,”Isaidwitharegaltiltofmychin.
“Neversaidanythingaboutlove,Ms.Alonso.”
“Fine,I’mnotinterestedinyoursex
life.”
“Hmm.That’sashame.”Thehintoflaughterintensified.
Ifhewastryingtogetariseoutofme,hewouldn’tsucceed.
“Onlyforyou,”Isaidsweetly.
Westoppedinfrontofmyhotel.ThelightfromthewindowsslashedacrossChristian’sface,castinghalfofitinshadow.Lightanddark.
Twohalvesofthesamecoin.
“Onemorething.”Mybreathsformedtinywhitepuffsintheair.“Whydidyoushowupatdinnertonight?”
Itwasn’ttocatchupwithLuisa;he’dbarelyspokentoherallnight.
Ashadowpassedthroughhiseyesbeforeitsankbeneaththecoolambersurface.“Iwantedtoseesomeone.”
Thewordssoakedintothepocketofairseparatingus.Ihadn’trealizedhowclosewe’dgottenuntilnow.
Leather,spice,andwinter.ThatwasallthatexistedbeforeChristiansteppedbackandtippedhisheadtowardthehotelentrance.Acleardismissal.
IopenedmymouththencloseditbeforeIbrushedpasthim.
Itwasn’tuntilIreachedtherevolvingglassdoorsthatmycuriosityoverpoweredmyhesitance.
Iturned,halfexpectingtoseeChristianalreadygone,butheremainedatthebaseofthestairs.Darkhair,darkcoat,andafacethatwassomehowevenmoredevastatingwhenpartiallycloakedinshadow.
“Whodidyouwanttosee?”
Itwassocoldmylungsburned,butstillIwaitedforhisanswer.
Somethingamusedanddangeroussurfacedinhiseyesbeforeheturnedaway.“Goodnight,Stella.”
Thewordsdriftedintomyearsafterthenighthadalreadyswallowedhimwhole.
Iexhaledaroughbreathandshookoffthepinpricksofelectricitydottingmyskin.
However,thoughtsofChristian,Luisa,andevenDelamontevanishedwhenIenteredmyroom,checkedmyphone,anddisasternumberfourstruck.
I’dkeptmycellinmypursetheentirenightbecauseIdidn’twanttobethat
persontextingatthedinnertable.Luisahadbeendoingit,butshewasthehost;shecoulddowhatevershewanted.
Now,Irealizedmyattemptatappearingprofessionalmighthavebackfired,becausemyscreenwaslitteredwithmissedcallsandtextsfromMeredith.Thelastonewasfromtwentyminutesago.
OhGod.
Whatwaswrong?Howlonghadshebeentryingtoreachme?
AdozenpossibilitiesracedthroughmyheadasIcalledherback,myheartinmythroatandmypalmsclammywithsweat.
Maybetheofficewasonfire,orI’dforgottentosendthePradabagbackto—
“Stella.Hownicetofinallyhearfromyou.”Herfrostygreetingslithereddownmyspinelikethecoolskinofareptile.
“I’msosorry.Iputmyphoneonsilentandjustsaw—”
“Iknowwhereyouwereat.IsawyouinthebackgroundofRaya’sInstagramStories.”
Despitehercontemptforbloggers,Meredithfollowedtheirsocialmediareligiously.Somethingaboutcompetitionandstayingontopoftrends.
Iseemedtobetheonlyonewhosawtheironyinthat.
Iswallowedhard.“Issomethingwrong?HowcanIhelp?”
NevermindthatitwasnearmidnightonaSaturdaynight.Work-lifebalancedidn’texistforjuniormagazineemployees.
“Therewasanissuewithnextweek’sphotoshoot,butwefigureditoutwhileyouwerepartying,”Meredithsaidcoolly.“We’lldiscussthisonMonday.Beinmyofficeatseven-thirtya.m.sharp.”
Thelinewentdead,asdidanyhopeshewouldletthenight’stransgressionslide.
Ihadasinkingfeelingthatcomeeighto’clockonMondaymorning,Iwouldnolongerhaveajob.4
STELLA
“You’refired.”
Twowords.Threesyllables.I’dmentallypreparedmyselfforthemsinceSaturdaynight’sfiasco,buttheystillhitmelikeapunchinthegut.
Breathe.In,one,two,three.Out,one,two,three.
Itdidn’twork.Oxygencouldn’tbypasstheknotinmythroat,andtinypinpricksofblackswamacrossmyvisionasIstaredatMeredith’sseatedfigure.
ShesippedhercoffeeandpagedthroughthelatestWomen’sWearDaily
likeshehadn’treducedmylifetorubbleinthespaceoftenseconds.
“Meredith,ifI—”
“Don’t.”Sheraisedamanicuredhand,herexpressionbored.“Ialreadyknowwhatyou’regoingtosay,anditwon’tchangemymind.I’vebeenwatchingyouandyourlackofenthusiasmforawhile,Stella,andSaturdaynightwasthelaststraw.”
ThecopperytasteofbloodfilledmymouthfromhowhardIbitmytongue.
Lackofenthusiasm?Lackofenthusiasm
?
Iwasthefirstpersoninandthelastpersonoutoftheoffice.Idideightypercentoftheworkonshootsforafractionofthecredit.Inevercomplainedevenwhenshethrewthemostoutrageousrequestsatme,likegettingChaneltoshipalimited-editioncouturegowntousfromParis
withlessthantwenty-fourhours’notice.
Ifthatwasalackofenthusiasm,Ishudderedtothinkwhatsheconsideredanappropriatelevelofdedication.
“Yes,Inoticed,”Meredithsaid,mistakingmysilenceforagreement.“Iadmit,youhaveagoodeyeforstyle,butsodoathousandothergirlswhowouldkilltobeinyourposition.Youclearlydon’twanttobehere.IseeitinyoureyeseverytimeItalktoyou.Honestly,weshouldn’thavehiredyouinthefirstplace.Yourbloggeneratesenoughtraffictobeconsideredacompetitor,andourcontractforbidsouremployeesfromengagingincompetitivebusinesspractices.Theonlyreasonwedidn’tfireyouearlierwasbecauseyoursidejobdidn’tinterferewithyourwork.”
Meredithtookanothersipofcoffee.“OnSaturdaynight,itdid.You’llreceiveanemailandofficialterminationpaperworkbytheendoftheday.”
Panicsqueezedmylungsattheprospectoflosingmyjob,butIalsodetectedakernelofsomethingelse.
Anger.
Meredithcouldmakealltheexcusesshewanted,butwebothknowshe’dbeendyingtofiremeforyears.Shewaspartoftheoldguardwhodidn’tlikethechangesbloggerswerebringingtotheindustry,andshetookoutherresentmentonme.
Maybeifyoutreatedyouremployeesbetter,I’dbemoreenthusiastic.Maybeifyouweren’tsoinsecure,you’dseehowmyblogcould
helpthemagazine,nothurtit.Onthatnote,youshouldcheckouttheskintoneguideIpostedlastweekbecausethecolorofyourtopdoes
nothingforyourcomplexion.
Theuncharacteristicslewofinsultsrushedtothetipofmytongue,butIswallowedthembeforetheyspilledoutandgotmeblacklistedintheindustry.
AllIwantedwastoworkinfashionandbeclosetoMaura.ThatwaswhyI’dstayedinthecityandgotajobatD.C.Style
despitemyparents’insistencethatIfindajob“morebefittinganAlonso.”
Igaveupalotofthingsforotherpeople,butmydreamwouldn’tbeoneofthem…unlessitwasoutofmyhands,andIgotfired.
“Iunderstand.”Iforcedasmilethatmatchedthevisewrappedaroundmychestintightness.
“Haveyourthingsclearedoutbythisafternoon,”Meredithaddedwithoutlookingupfromhercomputer.“Thereareboxeswaitingforyouatyourdesk.”
HumiliationwashedovermyskinasIexitedherofficeandwalkedtomydesk.EveryoneknewI’dbeenfired.Someofthemshotmepityingglances;othersdidn’thidetheirsmirks.
Butnoneoftheirreactionscomparedtowhatmyfamily’swouldbeonceItoldthemwhathappened.Theyalreadydisapprovedofme“wasting”myThayerUniversitydegreeonafashioncareer.IftheyfoundoutI’dbeenfired…
MyhandsshookbeforeIcaughtmyselfandsteadiedthem.IrefusedtogivemycoworkersthejoyofseeingmesweatasIpickedupmyboxesandsweptoutoftheofficewithasmuchdignityasIcouldmuster.
Everythingwillbefine.Everythingis
fine.
MyUberridehomewasablur.Icouldn’tstoppicturingmyparents’faceswhentheyfindoutwhathappened.Thedisappointment,judgment,and,worse,thesilentItoldyouso’s
thatwouldundoubtedlymakeuphalfourconversation.
Itoldyouworkingatafashionmagazineisn’tsustainable.
Itoldyoutostopspendingsomuchtimeonyourblog.It’sahobby,notajob.
Itoldyoutodosomethingmoremeaningfulwithyourdegree.Becomeanenvironmentallawyerlikeyourmom,oratleastworkforarespectablenewspaper.
Andthatwasonlyoneconsequenceofmyfiring.
Ihadn’teventhoughtabouttheimpactonmyfinancesormyabilitytofindanotherjob.
Pressureballoonedinmychest,butImanagedtomakeitbacktomyapartmentbeforeIcollapsed.
ThecardboardboxescontainingmyofficedeskitemslandednexttomewithathudasIsankontothelivingroomfloorandclosedmyeyes.
Everythingisfine.
Everythingisfine.
Everythingisfine.
Thesilentmantrasucceededincalmingmyshallowbreaths.
Itwasn’ttheendoftheworld.Peoplegotfiredeveryday,andIstillhadmoneycominginfrommyblogandbrandcollaborations.
Plus,Icouldsellsomeofmywardrobeforextracash.ThemoneyI’dreceivefromthatwouldbepitiful,evenfordesigneritems,butitwasbetterthannothing.
Worstcametoworst,Icouldagreetosomehigh-payingpartnershipsI’dturneddowninthepast.
IrefusedtocollaboratewithbrandswhoseproductsIdidn’tgenuinelylove,whichdroveBradynutsbecauseIwassopickyabouttheclothesIworeandtheproductsIused.Itsignificantlyhinderedmyearningpotential,butIwouldratherearnlessandbegenuinethanshillsomethingIdidn’tbelieveinforaquickcheck.
Ofcourse,that’dbeenwhenIhadafull-timesalarytosupplementmysidebusiness.
Everythingisfine.
Everythingisfine.
Everythingis—
ThefamiliarsoundofmyringtonedraggedmeoutofmythoughtsbeforeIslippedtoofardownmyspiral.
Iforcedmyeyesopenandcheckedthescreen.
Brady.
Iwastemptedtoletitgotovoicemail,butmaybehehadanupdateononeofmypendingcollaborations.Iwouldagreetoanythingpaidrightnow.
Well,almostanything.
“Hello?”Myvoicecameoutscratchyandhoarse,butatleastIwasn’tcrying.
“How’ditgo?”Acarhonkedinthebackground,nearlydrowningoutBrady’svoice.“Youignoredallmycalls!Givemethedeets,ASAP.”
Amigraineblossomedbehindmytemple.“Howdidwhatgo?”
“Delamonte
.”Theduh
wasimplied.“Alittlebirdieconfirmedthedinnerwasanaudition,sotellme.Dotheyloveyouordotheyloveyou?”
ThereminderofDelamontedidnothingtoimprovemymood.“Theyloveme.JustnotasmuchasRaya.”
NomatterwhatChristiansaid,IwasconvincedtheDelamontedealwasalostcause.IfIcouldn’tkeepmyjobatasmall-marketmagazine,howcouldIbetheambassadorforoneoftheworld’sleadingfashionbrands?
Ittechnicallywasn’tadirectcorrelation,butinmyshock-numbed,panickedminditwas.
AshortpausefollowedmystatementbeforeBradyexploded.“Areyoushittingme?DidyouseethebootsRayaworeinherlatestpost?Talkabouttacky.That’snotDelamonte’sstyleatall.You
areDelamonte!Youraestheticissofuckingperfectforthem,it’slikethey…it’sliketheycreatedyouintheirsuper-secretlab.Orsomething.”
“Yes,well,Rayahasmorefollowersthanme,and
shehasAdam.It’slikeatwo-in-onedeal.”
Ihatedwallowinginself-pity,butonceIgotstarted,Icouldn’tstop.
I’dbeentryingtoreachamillionfollowersforyears
,andRayagotitdoneinlessthantwopostingabouthernewboyfriendandusingthetipsI
gaveher.
Ididn’tmindsharingwhatIknew.Life,forthemostpart,wasn’tacompetition.ButIwouldbelyingifIsaidthatknowledgedidn’tstingabit.
“She’sonlygrowingsofastbecauseofAdamandviceversa,”Bradygrumbled.“Ihatetosayit,butinfluencercouplesarewhat’shotrightnow.Yourarelyseeindividualinfluencersskyrocketlikethat.Peoplelovefollowingotherpeople’slovelives.It’ssick.”
Imusteredadrylaugh.“ToobadI’mnotpartofacouple.”
D.C.’sdatingpoolwas,forlackofabetterword,dismal.
Thenagain,Inolongerhadajobtakingupmytime,sotherewasthat.
I’dtellBradyaboutD.C.Style
afterIhadtimetoprocessitmyself.Talkingaboutitwouldmakeitreal,andIcouldusealittlefantasyrightnow.
HewassoquietIthoughtthelinecutoffbecauseBradywasnever
quiet.Aquickchecktoldmethatwasn’tthecase.Iwasabouttoprompthimagainwhenhefinallyspoke.
“No,butyoucould
be…”hesaidslowly.
Mymigraineintensified.“Whatareyoutalkingabout?”
“I’mtalkingaboutyougettingaboyfriend.Thinkaboutit.”Hisvoicepitchedhigherwithexcitement.“Yourfollowershavenever
seenyoudatesomeone.Youdon’tdate,right?Imagineifyoudid.They’dgocrazy
!Andlookatallthecouplecontentthat’sgoingviral.Peopleeatthatshitup.You’llbeatamillionfollowersinnotime!Ifyouhitthatmilestone,Delamontewillnotice.Rumorhasittheywon’tmakeafinaldecisionforanotherfewweeks.Trustme.Theyalreadyloveyou—Iknow
theydo.Youjustgottagivethemalittleextrapush.”
Myjawunhinged.
“Areyoujoking?I’mnotgoingtostringsomeonealonganddatethemjustsoIcangetmorefollowersandabrandcampaign!”
“Thenbehonest.Tellthemthetruthupfront.Findafake
boyfriend.Someonewho’llalsohavesomethingtogainfromthis.”
“Anotherinfluencer?”Iwincedattheprospect.
Notthatitmatteredbecausetherewasnoway
IwoulddowhatBradywassuggesting.TheideathatIhadtogetaboyfriendtobedeemed“interesting”mademyskincrawl.
We’dprogressedfromthedayswhenwomencouldn’tgoanywhereordoanythingwithouttheirhusband’sapproval,butthesadtruthwas,ourvaluewasstilltiedtoourabilityto“land”apartner,atleastinsociety’seyes.
Thenumberoftimespeopleaskedmewhy
Ididn’thaveaboyfriendyetwasproofofthat.LikemybeingsinglewasaproblemIneededtosolveinsteadofachoiceI’dmade.LikemylackofapartnersomehowmeantI
waslackingsomehow.
Ididn’thaveanythingagainstdating.Iwashappyformyfriendswho’dfoundtheirOne,andI’dbeopentoarelationshipifImettherightperson.
ButIwasprettysuretherightpersonwouldn’tresultfromarusetogetmoresocialmediafollowersandfurthermycareer.
“Maybeanotherinfluencer,”Bradysaidthoughtfully.“Orsomeonewho’llbenefitfromhavingabeautifulwomanontheirarm.”
Mystomachturned.
“Youmakeitsoundsosleazy.Noway.”Ishookmyhead.“Idon’thavethetimeorenergyforarealor
fakerelationship.”
“Stella,I’mtellingyouthisasyourfriendandmanager.”HisvoicewassternerthanI’deverheardit.“YouwanttheDelamontedeal?Youwantamillionfollowers?YouwanttoshowRayaandallthegirlsouttheredyingtoseeyoufailthatyoustillhavewhatittakestostayontop?Thengetaboyfriend.”
Brady’swordsranthroughmymindlongafterIhungup.
Itwasthetwenty-firstcentury.Ishouldn’thave
todatesomeonetostayrelevant.
ButasmuchasIhatedtoadmitit,hewasright.Therewasareasoncelebritiesalwaysmagicallyenteredrelationshipsbeforeabigalbumdropormoviepremiere,andwhyunmarriedpoliticiansrarelywoncampaigns.
Irubbedmytemple.
Theideaofafakeboyfriendseemedabsurd,butwasitthat
absurd?
Ifmoviestarscould“date”someoneforpublicity,socouldI.ThatIwasn’tacelebritywasirrelevant;theprinciplewasthesame.
Ican’tbelieveI’mconsideringthis.
IpulledupmyInstagramandstaredatthenumberatthetopofmyprofile.
899K.
I’dbeenstuckthereforoverayear,anditremindedmeofwhereIwasgoinginlife—nowhere.Samecity,sameroutinedayinanddayout.
Thelureofamillionfollowersandwhatitrepresenteddangledinfrontofmelikeasparklingdiamond.
Validation.Opportunity.Success.
IfIjustreachandstretch…
The899Kstaredbackatme,tauntingme.
Iknewbetterthantoderivevaluefrommyfollowercount,butthatnumberimpactedmyincomeandlivelihood.
Maybeitwasego.
MaybeIwantedtoprovetoeveryone,includingmyself,thattheblood,sweat,andtearsI’dpouredintogrowingtheaccounthadn’tbeeninvain.
OrmaybeBradywasright,andIneededtoshakethingsup.
Whateveritwas,itcompelledmeenoughtoexitoutoftheappandintomycontactslist.
Istaredatthelistofnames,myeyesinstinctivelyhominginonthemaleones.
Ican’tbelieveI’mconsideringthis.
ButIhadnojobandnothingtolose…exceptmyintegrity.
Unfortunately,integritydidn’tpaythebills,anditwasn’tlikeIwasmurderingorstealing.Itwouldjustbealittlewhitelietoselltheshowthatwasmyonlinepresence.
Myteethdugintomybottomlip.
Then,beforeIcouldsecondguessmyself,Icalledthefirstnamethatlookedgood.
“HeyTrent,it’sStella.Iknow,it’sbeenalongtime,butIhaveaquestionforyou…”5
STELLA
I’doverestimated
thenumberofstraight,singlemeninmylife.
Aftervettingmycontacts,Ifoundthreewhocouldpotentiallyfulfilltheroleofmyfakeboyfriend,andaftertwodisastroustestdates,thatnumberhaddwindledtoone.
Myfirstdatekepttryingtosellmeoncryptowhilethesecondaskedmeforabathroomblowjobinbetweentheentreeanddessert.
Bythetimemythirddaterolledaround,myoptimismhaddwindledintoadyingember,butIclungtothatflickeringflamelikeitwasmylasthope.
Whichitwas.
NooneknewwhenDelamontewouldmaketheirdecision,butithadtobesoon.Ihadalimitedtimetofindafakeboyfriend,throwsomecouplephotosup,andprayitwoulddragmyaccountoutofitsslump.Whenitcametolandingcompetitivebranddeals,everylittlebithelped.
Itwasn’ttheworld’sbestormostwell-thought-outplan,butitwasa
plan.Nomatterhowludicrousitwas,itmademefeellikeIwastakingcontrolofmylife,andthatknowledge—thatIwasn’tcompletelyhelplessandstillhadthepowertoshapemyfuture—wastheonlythingkeepingmeafloatatthemoment.
“Thirdtime’sthecharm.”Thewordsrangwithequalpartshope,weariness,andatouchofself-loathing.
I’dthrownmyselfintotheBoyfriendPlan,asBradycalledit,becauseIhadnochoice,butapartofmeflinchedeverytimeIthoughtaboutwhatasuccessfulplanwouldentail.
Deception.Lying.PretendingtobesomeoneIwasn’t.
I’dcultivatedcloserelationshipswithmyfollowersovertheyears.SomeofthemhadbeenwithmesinceIwasacollegefreshmanpostinggrainyphotosofmycampuslooksonline.
Thethoughtofbetrayingthattrustmademystomachturn.
However,Icouldn’tletMauradown.And,ifIwasbeinghonest,Ireally
wantedamillionfollowers.
Itwasthebigmilestone.ThedoorthatwouldopenathousandmoreopportunitiesandprovethatIwasn’tthedisappointmentmyparentsthoughtIwas.
MyfriendsthoughtIhadtheperfectfamily,andI’dnevertoldthemthetruthbecauseitseemedlikesuchatrivialproblem.Judgmentalfamilieswereadimeadozen.
Butthatdidn’tmeanitdidn’tsting.
Myparentsdidn’talwaysvoiceit,butIsawthedisappointmentintheireyeseverytimetheylookedatme.
Itookadeepbreath,smoothedahandoverthefrontofmydress,andcheckedmyreflectioninthehallwaymirroronelasttime.
Hairtwistedintoanelegantknot,earringsthataddedatouchofglamour,andlipstickthatbrightenedmywinter-dulledskin.
Perfect.
ItooktheelevatordownstairsandspenttheridecheckingmyemailsforDelamonteupdatesorresponsesfromthedozenjobsI’dappliedtooverthepastweek.
Nothing.
Nonewswasgoodnews,right?Maybenotforthejobs,butatleastforDelamonte.
UntilIreceivedanemailorapressreleaseannouncingtheirnextbrandambassadorfromthem,Iwouldn’tdwellonnegativity.Ididn’twanttoaccidentallymanifestlosingoutonthecampaign.
Theelevatordoorspingedopen.Isteppedoutandranathumboverthecrystalsdanglingfrommynecklace.Rosequartzforluckinlove,citrineforgeneralgoodvibrations.
Here’shopingtheywork.
“Hi,Stella!”Theeagervoicepulledmyattentiontothefrontdesk,wheretheconciergebeamedatme,allshinyteethandpuppydogeyesfrombehindthemarblecounter.
Ireleasedmynecklaceandsmiledback.“Hi,Lance.Stuckonthegraveyardshiftagain?”
“That’swhathappenswhenyou’retheyoungestmemberontheteam.”Heheavedanexaggeratedsighbeforeexaminingme.“You’realldresseduptonight.Hotdate?”
Partofmebrieflyentertainedtheideaofaskinghim
tobemyfakeboyfriendbeforeIdismissedit.Thatwouldbetoomessyforamultitudeofreasons,theleastofwhichwasthefactheworkedinmybuilding
“Hopefully.”Igaveaplayfulspin,mymetallicskirtflaringaroundmyknees.I’dpaireditwithafittedblacksweaterandbootsforanelegantbutsimplefirstdatelook.“HowdoIlook?”
“Youlookbeautiful.”Therewasawistfulnoteinhisvoice.“Youalways—”
Hedidn’tgetachancetofinishbeforeIslammedintoabrickwall.IstumbledandIinstinctivelyreacheduptosteadymyself.
Softwoolandmasculineheattouchedmyfingers.
Notawall,
mydazedmindnoted.
Myeyestraveleduppastthepeakedlapelsofablacksuit,theopencollarofacrispwhiteshirt,andthetannedcolumnofastrong,masculinethroatbeforetheyrestedonabeautifullycarvedface,shadowedwithdisapproval.
“Ms.Alonso.”Christian’scoolvoicesentgoosebumpsskitteringacrossmyskin.Therewasnotraceofthesemi-playfuldinnerpartnerfromNewYork.“Distractingmystafffromtheirjobagain?”
Again?
I’dneverdistractedanyonefromanything,exceptmaybethetimeLancehelpedmecarryapackagetotheelevatorsandtheresidentbehindmeinlinehadtowaitanextratwominutes.
IremovedmyhandfromChristian’schest.HisheatsearedsodeepIfeltitinmybonesevenwhenIsteppedbackanduppedthewattageofmysmile.
Calm,cool,collected.
“Iwasmakingconversation.IwantedLance’sopiniononsomething,butsinceyou’rehere,Imightaswellaskyou.”Ispunagain.“Whatdoyouthink?Isthisoutfitdate-worthy?”
Ididn’tevencompletemyfirstspinbeforeChristian’shandclosedaroundmyarm.
WhenIlookedup,theshadowofdisapprovalhadmorphedintosomethingdarker.Moredangerous.
ThenIblinkedandthedarknesswasgone,replacedbyhisusualpoliteimpassiveness.
Somehow,thatunsettledmeevenmore
“You’regoingonadate.”
Christianhadatalentforturningeveryquestioninto…well,notaquestion.
“Yes.”Anuncharacteristicburstofmischiefbloomedinsideme.“That’swhereyoutakesomeoneoutfordinner,drinks,maybesomehand-holding.Itmightsoundlikeaforeignconcept,butyoushouldtryitsometime,Mr.Harper.It’lldoyousomegood.”
Maybeitwouldloosenhimupalittle.
Forallhischarmandwealth,hewaswoundtighterthanthespringofhisAudemarsPiguetwatch.Itwasevidentintheprecisionofhiswalk,thesetofhisshoulders,andtheunnaturalflawlessnessofhisappearance.
Notahairoutofplace,notaspeckoflintonhisclothes.
ChristianHarperwasamanwhothrivedoncontrollingeverything,includinghisfeelings.
Hestareddownatme,hisjawsotenseIcouldpracticallyhearhisteethgrind.“Idon’tholdhands.”
“Fine,nohand-holding.Cuddlingthen,onabenchoverlookingtheriver,followedbysomewhisperedsweetnothingsandagoodnightkiss.Doesn’tthatsoundnice?”
Iswallowedalaughatthewayhislipcurled.Judgingbyhisexpression,mysuggestionsoundedasniceasbeingthrownintoavatofbubblingacid.
“Youdon’tusuallydate.”
Myamusementfaded,replacedwithapinprickofannoyance.“Youdon’tknowthat.Icould’vegoneonahundreddatessinceImovedinandyouwouldn’thaveknown.”
“Haveyou?”
Dammit.
Icouldn’tlie,notevenwheneverycellinmybodyurgedmetowipetheknowinglookfromhiseyes.
“That’snotthepoint,”Isaid.“Maybeithasn’tbeenahundred,butit’sbeenafew.”
Two,andtheyweretestdatesthatremindedmewhyIhateddating.Buthedidn’tneedtoknowthat.
“Andwhereisyourdatetonight?”
Itwasaninnocentquestion,butintuitiontoldmetokeeptheexactlocationtomyself.“Abar.”
“Howspecific.”
“Hownoneofyourbusiness.”Igavehimapointedstare.
Christian’ssmiledidn’tsoftenthesmooth,bladededgeofhisvoice.“Havefunonyourdate,Stella.”
Theconversationwasover,whichwasjustaswell.Iwasalreadyrunninglate.
ButasIleftformydate,Icouldn’tfocusonthemanIwasabouttosee
Iwastoobusythinkingaboutwhiskeyeyesandblacksuits.
***
Halfanhourlater,IwishedI’dstayedinthelobbywithChristianbecausemydatewasgoingaswellasexpected,whichwastosay,notatall.
KlauswasoneofthefewmalefashionbloggerswholivedinD.C.,andI’dlikedhimwellenoughthefewtimeswechattedatevents.
Unfortunately,thosechatshadbeentooshortformetorealizewhatbecameobviousafteranextendedconversation
Klauswasamassive,ragingdouchebag.
“ItoldthemIdon’tworkforfree.Iunderstandit’sacharity,butIamaluxury
blogger.”KlausadjustedhissecondhandRolex.“Whatpartofmescreamsfreepostsforcancerawareness?
Ofcourse,it’sagreatcause,”headdedhastily.“Butittakestimeformetoshootandpost,youknow?Ievengavethematenpercentdiscountoffmyusualfee,buttheysaidno.”
“There’sareasonit’scalledcharity.”Ifinishedmydrink.Twoglassesofwineintwentyminutes.Arecordforme,andatestamenttohowmuchIdidn’t
wanttobehere.ButKlauswasmylasthope,andIgavehimmoreleewaythanusual.Maybehemeantwellbutcouldn’texpressitintherightmanner.“Theycan’taffordtopaythousandsofdollarsforeverypost.”
“Ididn’taskthemtopayforeverypost.Iaskedthemtopayme
.”
DearLord,givemestrength.
“Ididthatcampaignforfree.Ittookmelessthananhour,andIdidn’tdie,”Ipointedout.
Ihadasoftspotforcharities,andIacceptedalmostallofthosecollaborationsiftheorganizationwaslegit.Bradyhatedit,mainlybecausetheywerealwaysunpaid,andheearnednothingfromthosedeals.
Klauslaughed.“Yes,well,that’sthedifferencebetweenmenandwomen,isn’tit?”
Myspinestiffened.“What’sthatsupposedtomean?”
“Itmeansmostmenaskforwhatthey’reworthandmostwomendon’t.”Klaus’scasualshrugmademyeyetwitch.“It’snotaninsult,merelyanobservation.Butsomeone’sgottamakelessmoney,right?”
Myfingerstightenedaroundthestemofmywineglass.
Isuddenlywisheditweren’tempty.I’dneverbeenmoretemptedtothrowadrinkinsomeone’sface.
Hewasn’twrong
aboutthewholeaskforwhatthey’reworth
thing,buthistonewassocondescendingitovershadowedeverythingelse.Plus,he’dnickelanddimedacancercharity,ofallthings.
“Klaus.”Myevenvoicebetrayednoneoftheangersimmeringinmyblood.“Thankyouforthedrinks,butwe’vereachedtheendofourdate.”
Hestoppedfiddlingwithastraylockofhairtostareatme.“Excuseme?”
“We’renotcompatible,andIdon’twanttowasteeitherofourtimes.”
IwouldalsoratherstabmyeyeoutwithaChristianLouboutinheelthanspendanotherminutewithyou,
Iaddedsilently.
Klaus’sfaceflushedanangry,mottledred.
“Whatever.”Hestoodandyankedhiscoatoffthebackofhischair.“Ionlystayedoutofpity,anyway.You’renowherenear
ashotaseveryonesaysyouare.”
Saystheguywhobuysfollowersandusesafakeaccounttocommenthowhotheisunderhisownposts.Theretorttingledonthetipofmytongueuntilmyaversiontoconfrontationsquashedit.
IfIhadapennyforeverycomebackIkepttomyself,Iwouldn’tneed
theDelamontedeal.Iwouldalreadybeamillionaire.
IwaiteduntilKlausstormedoutinacloudofoverpoweringcologneandindignationbeforeIgroanedandburiedmyfaceinmyhands.
NowthatKlauswasoffthetable,Iofficiallyhadzeroprospectsforadecentfakeboyfriend.
Nofakeboyfriend,nofollowergrowth,noDelamontedeal,nomoney,nocareforMaura…
Mythoughtsrantogetherinajumbledstream.
Wasthereanotherwaytogrowmyaccountbesidesgettingafakeboyfriend?Maybe.
WouldgrowingmyaccountfastenoughguaranteeIgettheDelamontedeal?No
Butoncemybrainlatchedontoanidea,tryingtopryitoffwasliketryingtocrackavaultwithatoothpick.Plus,withnojobandnobitesonmyresume,Iwasgettingdesperate.
Theboyfriendideamight’vemademeuneasy,butit’dalsoofferedaglimmerofhope.Now,thatglimmerhaddulledintoanugly,tarnishedbrown.
Idrainedmywater,hopingitwouldalleviatethedrynessinmythroat.Allitdidwassendmeintoasmallcoughingfitwhenitwentdownthewrongpipe
“Iassumethewhisperedsweetnothingsandgoodnightkissareoffthetable.”
Myskingrewhotatthefamiliardrawlbehindme.
Cool,calm,collected.
IwaitedformylungstofillwithairbeforeIresponded.
“Onceisacoincidence,twiceisapattern.”Iturnedmyhead.“What’sthreetimes,Mr.Harper?”
First,thecarridehome.Second,theDelamontedinner.Ididn’tcountourlobbyrun-inearlierthatnightsincewelivedinthesamebuilding,butoverall,I’dbumpedintoChristianasuspiciousnumberoftimesoverthepasttwoweeks.
“Fate.”Heslidontothestoolnexttomineandnoddedatthebartender,whogreetedhimwithadeferentialnodofhisownandreturnedlessthanaminutelaterwithaglassofrichamberliquid.“OrthatD.C.isasmallcityandwehaveoverlappingsocialcircles.”
“Youmightbeabletoconvincemeyoubelieveincoincidence,butyou’llneverconvincemeyoubelieveinfate.”
Itwasanotionforromanticsanddreamers.Christianwasneither.
Romanticsdidn’tlookatsomeoneliketheywantedtodevourthemuntiltherewasnothingleftexceptashesandecstasy.Darknessandsubmission.
Somethinghotandunfamiliarcoiledinmystomachbeforethebellsabovethefrontdoorjangledandbrokethespell.
“Howlonghaveyoubeenhere?”Ihadn’tnoticedhisarrival.
“Longenoughtoseeyoueyeingthosecocktailpickswithlongingwhileyourdatewastalking.”
“Itwasn’tabaddate.Hejusthadtoleaveearlyfor…anemergency.”Itwasablatantlie,butIdidn’twanttoadmitit’dfailed.NottoChristian
“Yes,itlookedpositivelyscintillating.”Hisvoicewasdrierthanaginmartini.“Icouldtellbythewayyoureyesglazedoverandstrayedtoyourphoneeveryfiveseconds.Thetruesignsofawomaninfatuated.”
Annoyancesqueezedmylungs.
BetweenKlausandChristian,thenunnerywaslookingbetterbythesecond.
“Peoplesaysarcasmisthelowestformofwit.”
“Butit’sthehighestformofintelligence.”Christian’smouthtuggedupatmyraisedeyebrows.“OscarWilde.Iknowthefull
quotewell.”
WhywasInotsurprised?
“Don’tletmekeepyou,”Isaidpointedly.“I’msureyouhavebetterthingstodowithyourFridaynightthandrinkwiththegirlwhotakescareofyourplants.”
“I’llleaveafteryouexplainwhyyoulookedsounhappyafterheleft.”Christiansettledontohisstool,thepictureofrelaxedelegance,buthiseyesweresharpashewaitedformyresponse.“Somehow,Idoubtyouweredisappointedbyhisexit.”
Irubbedmythumboverthecondensationonmywaterglass,debatinghowmuchtotellhim.
“Ineededhishelpwithsomething.”Shamecreptintomychest.
“Withwhat?”Hewasacobrainaking’ssuit,withnopatienceinsight.
Justsayit.
“Ineedafakeboyfriend.”
There
.Isaiditanddidn’tdie,thoughembarrassmentwarmedmyneck.
Buttohiscredit,Christiandidn’tlaughorchastiseme.“Explain.”
Alcoholanddesperationhadloosenedmytongue,soIdid.Iexplainedeverything—Maura,Delamonte,D.C.Style
.IeventoldhimIgotfired.
Apartofmeworriedhe’devictmesinceInolongerhadasteadyincome,butIcouldn’tstopthewordsfrompouringout.
Thepressureinsidemehadfoundatemporaryreleasevalve,andIwastakingfulladvantage.
AlthoughmyfriendsknewI’dbeenfired,theydidn’tknowIwaspayingforMaura’scare.NoonedidexceptfortheGreenfieldstaff…andnow,Christian.
Forsomereason,tellinghimfeltnatural,almosteasy.Perhapsbecauseitwaseasiertosharesecretswithsomeonewhodidn’tknowmewelland,therefore,wouldholdlessjudgment.
WhenIfinished,Christianstaredatmewithalong,assessinggaze.
ThesilencestretchedsolongIworriedI’dbrokenhimwiththesheerabsurdityofmyidea.
Ituckedaloosecurlthathadfallenoutofmyupdobehindmyear.“Iknowitsoundsridiculous,butitcouldwork.Potentially?”Doubtturnedmystatementintoaquestion.
“Itdoesn’tsoundridiculous.”Christiansethisnow-emptyglassdown.Thebartenderreappearedinaflashandrefilledit.AfteraweightedglancefromChristian,hetoppedoffmydrinkaswell.“Infact,Ihaveamutuallybeneficialproposal.”
“I’mnotinterestedinsleepingwithyou.”
Iwasdesperate,butIwasn’tthat
desperate.Itwasonethingtogetafakeboyfriend.Itwasanothertosleepwithsomeoneformoney,evenifthatsomeone
wasrichandgorgeous.
AnnoyancepassedthroughChristian’seyes.“That’snotmyproposal,”hesaid,hisvoiceedgedwithirritation.“Youneedmoney,andIneeda…companionwhocanaccompanymetofunctions.They’reanecessaryand,unfortunately,frequentpartofmybusiness.”
“Soyouwantarmcandy.”Somethingakintodisappointmentsettledinmystomach.“I’msureyoucouldfindadatewithasnapofyourfingers.Youdon’tneedmeforthat.”
Evennow,allthewomeninthebarwerestaringatChristianwithdazed,dreamyexpressions.
“Notjustadate,Stella.IwantsomeonewhoIcanhaveanactualconversationwith.Whoputspeopleateaseandwhocanworkaroomwithme.Someonewhodoesn’twantmoreafterthedateisover.”
Itappedmyfingersonthetable.“AndifIdothat…”
Christiansmiled.“Let’smakeadeal,Ms.Alonso.Youagreetobemycompanionwhenneeded,andI’llpayfortheentiretyofMaura’scare.”
Mytappingstopped.
PayfortheentiretyofMaura’scare?
Myfirstinstinctwasanenthusiastic,resoundingyes.
NothavingtoworryaboutGreenfield’sbillswouldtakealoadoffmyshoulders.
Buttheexhilarationlastedonlyaminutebeforewarningbellsclangedbetweenmyears.
Ifsomethingsoundedtoogoodtobetrue,itprobablywas.
“Thankyou,butIcan’t.”Thewordswerepainfultosay,buttheywereforthebest.“PayingallofMaura’sfees…it’stoomuch.”
WasitstupidofmetoturndownhispaymentofferwhenIsodesperatelyneededit?Maybe.EspeciallywhenIknewpayingforhercarewouldn’tputadentinhiswallet?Probably.
Ifhewereanyoneelse,Imight’veaccepted,consideringmycircumstances.Butbetweentheinitialloweredrentandourlaughabledealforevenlower
rentafterJulesmovedout—takingcareofhisplantsdidnotequatetothethousandsofdollarsheletslideeverymonth—Ialreadyowedhimtoomuch.
AndmyguttoldmethatwhenitcametomenlikeChristianHarper,thelessoneowedthem,thebetter.
Becauseeventually,thepaymentwouldcomedue,anditwouldcostmorethanallthemoneyintheworld.
Christiantooktherefusalinstride.“Iunderstand.Thenlet’samendthedeal.Ifyouactasmycompanion,I’llactasyourboyfriend.”
Myheartleapt.Nowthat
wasamorebalancedarrangement.
Still,Ishouldn’t.
ItwaswildandabsurdandutterlyridiculousifIthoughttoohardaboutit,but…ChristianHarper
asmy(fake)boyfriend.Ifthatdidn’texplodemyfollowercount,nothingwould.
“Withastipulation,ofcourse,”headded.
Ofcourse.
“Whatstipulation?”
“Youarenot,underanycircumstances,toshowmyfaceonsocialmedia.”
Myexcitementfizzledfasterthanafireworkinwater.“ThatdefeatsthewholepurposeofwhatI’mtryingtodo.”
Christian’sfacecouldselloutstadiumsandtheaters.Notshowingitoffonlinewouldbeamonumentalwaste.
“Basedonwhatyoutoldme,it’stheperceivedrelationshipthatmatters,notwhotheotherpersonis.”Hetappedafingeronmyphone.“Socialmediaisaformofvoyeurism,andcouplesaremoreinterestingthanindividuals.It’stheunfortunatetruth.Butpeoplealsolovealittlemystery.Youcanshowmyhand,myback,anypartofmeexceptmyface.Itwon’tdiminishwhatyou’retryingtodo.Itmightevenhelp.”
“But…”Yourfaceissopretty.
“Peoplewillknowit’syouifweattendeventstogether,sowhat’sthepointofnotshowingyourface?”
“Ihavenoproblemwithpeopleknowingwe’retogether.”Thesmoothnessofhiswordswrappedaroundmelikeasilkenscarf.“However,Ikeepthedetailsofmypersonallifeprivateandmydigitalfootprintascleanaspossible.”
Ishouldn’tbesurprised.Christianwasacybersecurityexpert,sohisaversiontosocialmediaandsharingdataonlinemadesense.
Still,Ifoundithardtobelieveanyoneinthisdayandagecouldkeepall
photosofthemselvesofftheinternet.
“Huh.”Itwastoolateforme.Mydigitalfootprintwassolargeitcouldqualifyforitsownzipcode.“Can’trelate.”
Asmileflickeredoverhismouth.“Dowehaveadeal,then?”
“Aslongasyouagreetomyconditionsaswell.”Thistime,Iwastheonewhosmiledathisflashofsurprise.“Youdidn’tthinkyouweretheonlyonewhogottomaketherules,didyou?”
“Ofcoursenot.”Lazyamusementsurfacedinhiseyes.“Whatareyourterms?”
Itickedthemoffonmyfingers.Thebartenderwasservingcustomersattheotherendofthebarandnoonewassittingnearus,soIwasn’tworriedabouteavesdroppers.
“One,weengageinphysicalcontactonlywhennecessary.Handholdingisokay.Kissingispermittedonacase-by-casestatus.Nosex.”IpeekedatChristiantoseeifthatwouldbeadealbreaker.Hisexpressionremainedimpassive,soIcontinued.
“Two,wecontinuethearrangementaslongasit’sbeneficialtoboth
ofus.Ifeitherofuswantstoenditforwhateverreason,wegivetheothertwoweeks’notice.Andfinally…”Itookadeepbreath.“Werememberwhatthisis.Afake
relationship.Thatmeansnocatchingfeelingsandnofallinginlovewitheachother.”
Ididn’tthinkChristianwouldfallinlovewithme,andIdoubtedIwouldfallinlovewithhim,butitwasgoodtosettherightexpectations.Itkeptthingsfromgettinguglydowntheroad
Asoftlaughrumbledfromhisthroat.“Iacceptthoseterms.I’lldrawupthecontracttonight.”
“Awrittencontractseemslikeoverkill.”
“Inevermakeadealwithoutone.”Heraisedaneyebrow.“Isthatadealbreaker?”
Partofmewasn’tcomfortablewithaformalcontractforsomethingsofluid,butanotherpartagreeditwasthesmartthingtodo.Itwouldlayoutthegroundrulesincleartermsandprotectbothofus.
Justincase.
“No.Acontractisfine.”
“Good.Anddon’tworry,Ms.Alonso.”LaughterremainedinChristian’svoiceasheliftedhisglasstohislips.“Idon’tbelieveinlove.”6
STELLA
March
13
IthinkIsignedadealwiththedevil.
Okay,thatsoundsalittledramatic,butyougettheidea.Christianhasbeensuper
niceandhelpfulsincewemet,buthedidn’tgettowhereheistodaybybeingallwarmandfuzzy.
It’sbeenfourdayssincewesigned(Istillcan’tbelievehemademesignaformalagreement,butIguessthat’swhyhe’saCEO).AndeverytimeIthinkaboutourfirstcouplepost,Ifeelalittlesick.
I’dcometotermswithhavingtolietomyfollowers,butmyfriendsandfamilywillseetheposttoo.Well,notmyparents,butNataliawillseeitandshe’lltellMomandDad.AndI’llhavetoexplainthesuddenappearanceofaboyfriendtomyfriends,whoKNOWIdon’twantaboyfriend.They’regoingtoflipout,especiallyJules.Shehatesnotbeinginonallthegossip.
Thenthere’sthematterofhidingChristian’sfacewhenImakeourofficialpost.MaybeIcanputanemojioverit.It’ssocheesyitcouldbefunny…
Christianemojiideas:
Devil(forobviousreasons)
Neutralface(basicallyhisexpression80%ofthetime)
Heartface(makessenseifhe’ssupposedtobemyboyfriend,butmightbetoocutesy?)
***
“I’mso
happywecancatchup.”Julessighedandpoppedafryinhermouth.“IfeelsooutoftheloopsinceIgotback.”
JulesandherboyfriendJoshwentonaweeklongtriptoNewZealandafewweeksago,andthiswasmyfirsttimeseeinghersinceshereturned.BetweenherdemandingscheduleasanattorneyandAva’sconstanttravelsasaphotographerforWorldGeographic
magazine,itwashardforallofustobeatthesameplaceatthesametime.
Westillscheduledatleastonemeetupeverymonth,though,evenifithadtobevirtual.Atleastthen,Bridget,wholivedinEurope,couldjoin.
Adultfriendshipstookwork
andconsciousefforttomaintain,buttheonesthatstayedweretheonesthatmatteredmost.
ThatwaswhyitwassohardtolietoJules,Ava,andBridget.TheyknewI’dbeenfired,buttheydidn’tknowaboutChristian.
Atthesametime,Ididn’twanttoburdenthemwithtoomanyofmyproblems,andthelongerIkeptthingsfromthem,thelessIwantedtoexplainwhyIhadn’tsaidsomethinginthefirstplace.
ThefishtacosIateforlunchchurnedinmystomach.
“Youhaven’tmissedanythingbig.”Avabrushedastrandofhairoutofhereye.“MylifeisjustworkandweddingstuffuntilOctober.”
Despitehercasualwords,herfaceglowedwithexcitement.
HerboyfriendAlexproposedlastsummer,andtheywereplanningafallweddinginVermont.KnowingAlex,itwouldbethemostlavishweddingthestatehadeverseen.He’dalreadyhiredthetopweddingplannerinthecountrytocoordinateanarmyofflorists,caterers,photographers,videographers,andwhoeverelsewasinvolvedinthenuptials.
“Hmm.”Julessoundeddisappointedthattherewasn’tjuiciernewswaitingforher.“Whataboutyou,Stel?Anychanceyouhookedupwithacelebrityatanevent?Wonamilliondollars?GotofferedatriptoBoraBorainexchangeforpicturesofyourfeetagain?”
Mylaughcameoutstrained.“Sorrytodisappoint,butno.”
ThoughIdidgetafakeboyfriend.
Thewordswereonthetipofmytongue,butIswallowedthemalongwiththerestofmywater.
IneededmoretimetoprocessmysituationbeforeIdiscusseditwithanyoneelse.
“Oh.”Julespouted.“Well,theyear’sstillyoung.AndohmyGod,speakingofcelebrities…”Hereyeslitupagain.“Youwon’tbelieve
whowesawattheairportonourwaybacktoD.C.NateReynolds
!Hewaswithhiswife…”
Irelaxedintomyseatassherambledonaboutherfavoritemoviestar.Thatwasasafertopicthananythingaboutmylife.
Theremnantsofshameprickledmyskin,butIconsoledmyselfwiththefactthatIwouldn’tlietomyfriendsforever
I’dtellthemaboutChristiansoon.
Justnottoday.
WestayedattherestaurantforanotherhalfhourbeforeAvahadtomeetAlexforsomeweddingthingandJuleswentto“surprise”Joshafterhisshiftatthehospital.Iwasprettysurethatwascodeforsex,butIwiselychosenottoask.
Afterwesaidourgoodbyes,ItookthetraintoGreenfield.
Itwasanhour-longridefromthecity,andwhenI’dworkedatD.C.Style,Ihadtorushhereafterwork.SometimesIdidn’tmakeit;whenIdid
makeit,IusuallyonlygottenorfifteenminuteswithMaurabeforevisitinghoursended.
Thatwasoneperkofbeingunemployed,Iguess.Inolongerhadtotakethetraintoandfromthemiddleofnowhereatnight,andIdidn’thavetoworryaboutnothavingtimetoseeher.
IabsentmindedlytoyedwithmynecklaceasIwatchedthecity’sconcretesidewalksandEuropean-inspiredarchitecturegivewaytoopenfieldsandflatterland.
Ihadn’ttalkedtoChristianinpersonsinceouragreement,thoughhe’dtextedmethefollowingdayaskingmetojoinhimatafundraiser.
Ididn’tevenknowwhatthefundraiserwasfor,onlythatitwasablack-tieeventandwouldtakeplaceattheSmithsonianMuseumofNaturalHistory.
ThejoltofthetrainasitstoppedattheGreenfieldstationcoincidedwiththeuprisingofnervesinmystomach.
It’llbefine.It’sjustaparty.You’veattendedplentyofblack-tieevents.
Iinhaledandexhaledalungfulofair.
It’llbefine.
Istoodandwaitedforagroupoftired-lookingcommuterstopassbeforeIfollowedthemoffthetrain.Ionlymadeithalfwaybeforeachillgrippedthebackofmyneckandyankedmyheadup.
ItwasthesamechillI’dexperiencedinmyhallwaythenightChristiangavemearidehome.
Myeyesdartedwildlyaroundthetraincar,butitwasemptysaveforanelderlymansnoringinthecornerandtheattendanttryingtowakehimup.
Someofthetensionbledoutofmyshoulders.
Nothingwaswrong.Iwasonedgeaboutthefundraiserandthefakedatingarrangement,that’sall.
Greenfieldwasaten-minutewalkfromthetrainstation,andwhenIarrived,I’dalreadyshakenoffmymisgivingsfromthetrain.Icouldn’tlivemylifelookingovermyshoulder,especiallywhentherewasnothingthere.
GreenfieldencompassedthreebuildingsandseveralacresinsuburbanMaryland.Withitsbaywindows,bamboofloors,andabundanceofgreenery,itresembledahigh-endboutiquehotelmorethanitdidaseniorcommunity,soIwasn’tsurpriseditwasratedoneofthebestluxuryassistedlivingfacilitiesinthecountry.
Italsolookeddifferentduringtheday,andnotjustbecauseofthelight.Theairwascalmer,andthescentsweresweetereveninthedregsofwinter.
Itwasabrand-newday,andwitheverybrand-newdaycamehope.
OptimisminflatedinmychestwhenIstoppedoutsideMaura’sroomandknockedonthedoor.
Today,shewouldrememberme.Iwassureofit.
Iknockedagain.Noanswer.Ihadn’texpectedone,butIalwaysknockedtwicejustincase.Shemayliveinacarefacility,butherroomwasherroom.Shedeservedsomesayoverwhoenteredherpersonalspace.
IwaitedanextrabeatbeforeItwistedtheknobandsteppedinside.
Maurasatinachairbythewindow,staringoutatthepondinthebackofthefacility.Thewaterwasfrozen,andthetreesandflowerswhichflourishedduringsummerwerenothingmorethanbarebranchesandwitheredpetalsduringwinter,butshedidn’tseemtomind.
Sheworeasmallsmileasshehummedalowtune.Somethingfamiliaryetindistinguishable,happyyetnostalgic.
“Hi,Maura,”Isaidsoftly.
Thehummingstopped.
Sheturned,herfaceregisteringpoliteinterestashereyessweptoverme.“Hello.”Shetiltedherheadatmyexpectantstare.“DoIknowyou?”
Disappointmentpulledatmychest,followedbyasharpache.
Alzheimer’svariedgreatlyfrompersontoperson,eventhoseinthemiddlestage,likeMaura.Someforgotbasicmotorskillslikehowtoholdaspoonbutrememberedtheirfamily;othersforgotwhotheirlovedoneswerebutcouldfunctionfairlynormallyindailylife.
Maurafellinthelattercategory.
IshouldbegratefulshecouldstillcommunicateclearlyafterbeingdiagnosedwithAlzheimer’sfouryearsago,andIwas
.Butitstillhurtwhenshedidn’trecognizeme.
Shewastheonewho’draisedmewhilemyparentswerebusybuildingtheircareers.She’dpickedmeupanddroppedmeoffatschooleveryday,attendedallmyschoolplays,andconsoledmeafterRickyWheatondumpedmeforMelodyRennerinsixthgrade.RickyandIhadonly“dated”fortwoweeks,buteleven-year-oldmehadbeenheartbroken.
Inmymind,Maurawouldalwaysbevibrantandfulloflife.Buttheyearsanddiseasehadtakentheirtoll,andseeinghersofrailmadetearsthickeninmythroat.
“I’manewvolunteer.”Iclearedmythroatandpastedonasmile,notwantingtocloudourvisitwithmelancholy.“Ibroughtyousometembleque.Alittlebirdietoldmeit’syourfavorite.”Ireachedintomybagandpulledoutthechilledcoconutpudding.
ItwasatraditionalPuertoRicandessertMauraandIusedtomaketogetherduringour“experimentation”nights.
Everyweek,we’dtryanewrecipe.Someofthemcameoutamazing,othersnotsomuch.Thetemblequewasoneofourfavorites,though,andwejustifiedmakingitmorethanoncebydressingitupwithdifferentflavorseachtime.Cinnamononeweek,orangethenext,followedbylime.
Voila!
Anewrecipe.
Inmyeight-year-oldmind,itmadesense.
Maura’seyeslitup.“Tryingtobuttermeupwithsweetsonyourfirstday.”Sheclucked.“It’sworking.Ilikeyoualready.”
Ilaughed.“I’mgladtohearthat.”
IhandedherthedessertI’dmadelastnightandwaiteduntilshehadafirmgrasponitbeforeItooktheseatoppositehers.
“What’syourname?”Shespoonedsomepuddinginhermouth,andItriednottonoticehowslowthemovementwasorhowhardherhandshook.
“Stella.”
Whatlookedlikerecognitionglintedinhereyes.Hopeballoonedagain,onlytodeflatewhenmurkinesssnuffedouttheglintasecondlater.
“Prettyname,Stella.”Maurachewedwithathoughtfulexpression.“Ihaveadaughter,Phoebe.She’saroundyourage,butIhaven’tseenherinawhile…”
Becauseshedied.
Theacheinmychestreturnedwithavengeance.
Sixyearsago,PhoebeandMaura’shusbandhadbeenontheirwayhomefromthegrocerystorewhenatruckT-bonedtheircar.Bothdiedonimpact.
Maurasankintoadeepdepressionafter,especiallysinceshehadnolivingrelativestoleanon.
AsmuchasIhatedAlzheimer’sforrobbingherofthelifeshe’dlived,sometimesIwasgratefulforit.Becausetheabsenceofgoodmemoriesalsomeanttheabsenceofbadones,andatleastshecouldforgetthepainoflosingherlovedones.
Noparentshouldeverhavetoburytheirchild.
Maura’schewingslowed.Herbrowsdrewtogether,andIcouldseeherstrugglingtorememberwhy,exactly,shehadn’tseenPhoebeinawhile.
Herbreathingquickenedthewayitalwaysdidbeforeagitationsetin.
Thelasttimeshe’drememberedwhathappenedtoPhoebe,she’dgottensoaggressivethenurseshadtosedateher.
Iblinkedbackthestinginmyeyesanduppedthewattageofmysmile.“So,Iheartonight’sbingonight,”Isaidquickly.“Areyouexcited?”
Thedistractionworked.
Maurarelaxedagain,andeventually,ourconversationmeanderedfrombingotopoodlestoTheDaysofOurLives.
Hermemorieswerepatchyandvariedfromdaytoday,buttodaywasoneofthebetterones.Sheusedtoownapetpoodleandshe’dlovedwatchingTheDaysofOurLives.
Iwasn’tsuresheunderstoodthesignificanceofthosetopics,butatleastsheknewtheywereimportantonasubconsciouslevel.
“Ihavebingotonight.Whatdoyouhave?”Sheabruptlyswitchedtopicsafteraten-minutemonologueonhandwashinglaundry.“AbeautifulgirllikeyoumusthavefunplansforFridaynight.”
ItwasSaturday,butIdidn’tcorrecther.
“Ihaveabigparty,”Isaid.“AttheSmithsonian.”
Thoughfun
wasn’ttheadjectiveI’duse.
Nervessloshedthroughmystomach,makingmequeasy.
Signingacontractwasonething;carryingitoutwasanother.
WhatifIbombedattheevent?WhatifItrippedorsaidsomethingstupid?WhatifherealizedIwasn’tthecompanionhe’dhopedforafterallandterminatedouragreement?
Iinstinctivelyreachedformycrystalpendant.I’dchosenanunakitejaspertodayforhealing,andIclutcheditfordearlifeuntilthecoolstonewarmedandsettledmynerves.
It’sfine.Everythingwillbefine.
Maura,oblivioustomyinnerturmoil,brightenedandleanedforwardatthementionofaparty.“Ooh,fancy.Whatareyouwearing?”
Inthatmoment,shesoundedsolikeheroldselfmychestsqueezed.
Sheusedtoteasemeallthetimeaboutboys.Preteenmewouldhuffandcomplain,butIspilledallmysecretcrushestoheranyway.
“Ihaven’tdecided,butI’msureI’llfindsomething.Therealquestionis,whatshouldIdowithmyhair?”Igesturedtomycurls.“Putituporleaveitdown?”
Nothinganimatedherlikethetopicofhair.Herswaspinstraight,butshe’dhadtolearnhowtocareformyspecifichairtexturewhenIwasyoung,andshe’dbecomeanunofficialexpertovertheyears.
Istillusedthepost-showerhairroutinesheputtogetherformewhenIwasthirteen:applycurlcream,detanglewithawide-toothcomb,squeezeoutexcessmoisture,applyarganoil,andscrunchhairupwardsfordefinition.
Itworkedlikeacharm.
AsmilecurvedmylipsatMaura’sindignantharrumph.“It’sapartyattheSmithsonian.
Youmust
putitup.Comehere.”Shebeckonedmeover.“Havetodoeverythingmyself,”shemuttered.
Istifledalaughandmovedmychairnexttoherswhileshetookthepinsoutofherbunsoshecouldworkhermagic.
Iclosedmyeyes,lettingthepeacefulsilenceandthefamiliar,soothingtugandpullofherfingerswashoverme
Hermovementswereslowandhesitant.WhattookherminutestodowhenIwasakidtookhertriplethetimenow.ButIdidn’tcarehowlongittookherorwhattheresultlookedlike;IonlycaredaboutspendingtimewithherwhenIstillcould.
“There.”SatisfactionfilledMaura’svoice.“Alldone.”
Iopenedmyeyesandcaughtourreflectionsinthemirrorhangingontheoppositewall.She’dtwistedmyhairintoahigh,lopsidedupdo.Halfthecurlswerealreadyfallingout,andtherestwouldprobablyfollowassoonasImoved.
Maurastoodnexttomewithaproudexpression,andIflashedbacktothenightofmyfirsteverschooldance—ofusstandinginourexactpositionsnow,exceptwe’dbeenthirteenyearsyoungerandathousandyearsmorecarefree.
She’ddonemyhairthatnight,too.
“Thankyou,”Iwhispered.“It’sbeautiful.”
Ireacheduptogentlysqueezeherhand,whichrestedonmyshoulder.ItwassothinandfrailIworrieditwouldsnap.
“You’rewelcome,Phoebe.”Shepattedmewithherotherhand,herexpressionsofteningintosomethinghazier,morereminiscent.
Theoxygencutoffhalfwaytomylungs.
Iopenedmymouthtorespond,butnowordsmadeitpastthetearswellinginmythroat.
Instead,Iloweredmygazetothefloorandtriedtobreathethroughthefistsqueezingmyheart.
You’rewelcome,Phoebe.
IknewMauralovedmeevenifshedidn’trememberme,andshe’dtreatedmelikeherowndaughterwhenshedid
rememberme.
ButIwasn’t
herdaughter,andIcouldneverreplacePhoebe.
Ididn’twantto.
ButIcouldcareforherandgiveherascomfortablealifeaspossible.ThatmeantdoingeverythingIcouldtokeepheratGreenfield,includingmakingadealwithChristianHarper.
Mystomachtwisted.Icouldn’tscrewupthepartytonightwithhim,andIcouldn’tstallanylonger.IhadtoannounceourrelationshipsoonifIwantedtogettheDelamontedeal.
MaurahadtakencareofmewhenIdidn’thaveanyoneelsetoleanon.ItwastimeIdidthesameforher.
Shewasworththesacrifices.7
STELLA
Istayed
atGreenfieldforanotherhour,talkinganddoingpuzzleswithMaura.We’dmigratedtothecommunityroomafterIgotmyemotionsundercontrol,andwe’dspenttherestofourtimetogetherassemblingafive-hundred-piecemountainlandscape.
Iwould’vestayedlonger,butIneededtogetreadyforthefundraiser.Iwasalreadycuttingitclose;whenIgothome,IhadjustundertwohoursbeforeChristianwassupposedtopickmeup
AwaveofnervescrashedagainstmyinsidesanddrownedoutthelingeringmelancholyfrommyvisitwithMaura.
TonightwouldbemyfirsttimespendinganentireeveningwithChristian.TheDelamontedinnerdidn’tcountsincewehadn’tspokenmuchduringthedinneritself.
Iturnedontheshowerandsteppedbeneaththesprayofhotwater,tryingnottopanictoomuchatwhatlayaheadofme.
ChristianHarperwasjustaman.
Notaking,evenifhewasricherthanone,andnotagod,evenifhelookedlikeone.
Ihadnothingtobenervousabout.
SinceIwasonatimecrunch,Iwashedmyhair,showered,shaved,andexfoliatedwithrecordspeedinsteadoflingeringintheshowerlikeIwanted.
Butdespitemyrush,Iwasstilldoingmymakeupinmybathrobewhenthedoorbellrang.
Christianwasn’tsupposedtoshowupforanotherhalfhour.Unless
…
MyheartratepickedupwhentheunsettlingchillI’dexperiencedonthetraindriftedthroughmymind.
Stopit.Itis
nothim.
Ididn’tknowwhyIwasworryingsomuchwhenhe’dbeenradiosilentfortwoyears,butthelastthingIneededwastomanifestmystalkerbackintomylifebyfocusingtoomuchenergyonhim.
Ijumpedwhenthedoorbellrangagain.
Haditalwaysbeensoloud?
Icappedmymascaraandhastenedtothelivingroomevenasmypulsebeattripletime.
It’snothim.It’snothim.
Islowedtoastopatthefrontdoorandpeekedthroughthepeepholewithmyheartinmythroat.
Asecondlater,reliefcooledmylungs,andIopenedthedoor.
Christianstoodinthehall,lookingevenmoredevastatingthanusualinablacktuxedo.Withhisperfectlywavyhairandclean-shavenface,hecould’vepassedforamoviestaronhiswaytotheOscars.
Atingleofawarenessspreadacrossmyskin,mixedwithcuriosityatthewhiteboxinhishands.Medium-sizedandflat,tiedwithasilkygoldbowthatobscuredthelogo.
Ipulledmyeyesawayfromtheboxandcrossedmyarms.
Donotbedistractedbytheshinyobject.
“You’reearly.”Gettingreadywasmyfavoritepartofanevent.Sometimes,Ilikeditbetterthantheeventitself.
Ididn’tappreciatebeingrushed,evenifitwasmyfaultfornotleavingGreenfieldearlier.Still,IthoughtIhadhalfanhourlefttomyself.
“You’renotdressed.”Christian’sgazecoastedfrommyhalf-donefacetomybare,red-paintedtoes.Somethinginscrutablepassedthroughhiseyesforasplitsecondbeforeitdisappeared.
“Becauseyou’reearly
.”
Heignoredthepointedreminder.“MayIcomein?”
Iwastemptedtosaynoandtellhimtoreturnatourarrangedpickuptime,butsincehetechnicallyownedtheapartment,Iopenedthedoorwiderandsteppedaside.
TheairshiftedtheminuteChristianentered.Itgrewheavier,morelanguid,likethefirstsultrybloomofsummerafteraseasonofspringrains.
Theheatseepedthroughthethickterryclothofmyrobeandcurledlowinmystomachashiseyessweptacrosstheroom,takinginthebowlofcrystalsbythefrontdoor,thebambooplantonthewindowsill,andthecozy,aestheticcornerI’dsetupforlifestyleshoots.
Hepausedatthefuzzypurpleunicornproppedagainstmycouchpillows.
Amusementfilledhiseyes.“Cute.”
“Cute?”Itriednottosoundtooinsulted.“Mr.Unicornisn’tcute.He’sbeautiful.
”
Atleast,hehadbeenduringhisheyday.Now,oneofhiseyeswascrooked,halfhishairhadfallenout,andstuffingleakedfromatinyripinhisstomach,buthewouldalwaysbebeautifultome
Ididn’tcareifMr.Unicornwasashadowofhisformergloriousself;he’dbeenmycompanionsinceIwasseven,andIwouldholdontohimuntilhedisintegratedintodust.
“Myapologies,”Christiansaiddryly.“Ididn’tmeantoinsultthebeautiful
Mr.Unicorn.Goodjobontheoriginalname,bytheway.”
Heatcrawledupmyneck.“Iwasseven.WhatelsewasIsupposedtonameit?Mr.LisaFrankintheWild?”
Alowlaughcaressedmyskinlikevelvet.“Nowthat
wouldbequiteaname,butwecandiscussalternativesforyourpetunicornlater.”Heheldoutthewhitebox.“Thisisforyou.”
Iignoredthesubtlepetunicorn
digandeyedtheboxwithequalpartsanticipationandwariness.“Whatisit?”
“Yourdressfortonight.”
MyheartskippedabeatwhenIunraveledthebowandsawthenamescrawledingoldacrossthetop.Itwasoneofthetopcouturehousesintheworld.
Ididn’twanttoacceptmorefromhimthanIalreadyhad,butIcouldn’tresistopeningthebox.Alittle
peekneverhurtany…
OhmyGod.
MyresistancecrumbledthesecondIsawthedressnestledagainstabedofdelicatewhitetissuepaper.
Iwasnostrangertogorgeousclothing.I’dattendeddozensoffashionshowsandreceivedsometrulyamazingitemsfromdesigners,butthis…
ThisdressmightbethemoststunningthingI’veeverseen.
“Thankyou.Thisis…”Iranareverenthandoverthegreensilk.“Incredible.”
“Tryiton.Seeifitfits.”Christianleanedagainstthewall,hiseyesglowingwithsoftsatisfaction.“I’llbehere.”
Hedidn’thavetotellmetwice.
Ittookallmywillpowernottoruntomyroom.ThesecondIshutmydoor,Islippedoutofmyrobeandintothegown.
Wow.
Isuckedinasharpbreath.TherichgreencolorpoppedagainstmyskinandgaveitanetherealglowwhilethetastefullylowV-necktransformedmyB-cupsfrommodesttosomethingmoreluscious.Theskirtdrapedtotheflooringracefulfoldsandwould’vebeenalmostdemurehaditnotbeenforthedaringslituponeside.
ThedressshimmeredwithsubtleluminescenceeverytimeImoved,andwhenIturnedandtwistedmyhead,Icouldseethedelicatestrapscrisscrossingovermyback.
Therewasn’tanounceofexcessfabricorapocketofbadtailoring.
Christianhadgottenmymeasurementsexactlyright.Everyinchofsilkclungtomybodylikeit’dbeencustommadeforme.
Iwasn’tpronetodramatics,butIdidn’tthinkIwasbeingdramaticwhenIsaidIwoulddieforthisdress.
Itwasperfect.
IallowedmyselfanextraminuteofgownappreciationbeforeIfinishedgettingready.
Makeup?Check.
Heelsandjewelry?Check.
Clutchlargeenoughtoholdmyphone,keys,creditcard,asmallpieceofagate,andlipstick?Check.
IaddedashawlincaseIgotcold,checkedmyteethforstraylipstick,andsteadiedmyselfwithadeepbreathbeforeIreturnedtothelivingroom.
Christianwasstillleaningagainstthewall,staringatasmallobjectinhishand.Icouldn’tmakeoutwhatitwasbeforehestraightenedandslippeditintohispocket.
Oureyesconnected,andafirelitinmystomach.
Hewasn’tlookingattheobjectoranythingelseintheroomanymore.
Everyounceofhisattentionhadredirectedtowardme,andIcouldfeel
theweightofitonmyskin,likealover’sroughcaress.
Liquidelectricitydrippeddownmyspineandpooledinmystomach.
Withasimplelook,Christianlitmeupfromtheinsideout.
“Perfect.”Reverenceweighedhissoftassessment.
Perfect.
NomatterhowhardItried,Ihadneverbeenperfect,norwouldIeverbe.
Still,thesinglewordsetthecagedbutterfliesinmychestfreebeforeIwrestledthembackintotheirhold.
He’stalkingaboutthedress,youidiots.Thisisn’tevenarealdate.Yousignedacontractstatingsolessthanaweekago.
Thebutterfliesfluttered,uncaring.
“Youhaveagoodeyeforclothing.”IforcedmylegstomoveuntilIstoodlessthanthreefeetfromhim.Hisdelicious,masculinescentfloodedmylungsandedgedoutthesoothingnotesofmyfavoritelavendereucalyptuscandle.“I’mimpressed.”
“It’soneofmymanytalents,”Christiandrawled.
Thesuggestivenesswassubtle,butitwasenoughtosendarushofheatovermycheeks.
LaughterdancedinhiseyeswhenIliftedmychinandfixedhimwithwhatIhopedwasanunimpressedstare.
Cool,calm,collected.
“Goodtoknow.”Ididn’ttakehisbait.
Itwasonethingformybodytofreakoutaroundhim.Itwasanothertoshowit.
IblewoutthecandleandturnedoffthelightsbeforefollowingChristiandownstairs.Adiscreetblacktowncarwaitedforusoutsidetheentrance.
“NoMcLarentonight?”Isettledintothebackseat.
Christianslidinnexttome,thedrivershutthedoor,andjustlikethat,wewereensconcedinahushed,privateworldofItalianleatherandsleekwoodaccents.Aclosedpartitionseparatedthedriver’sandpassengerseats,keepingourconversationprivate.
“Parkingisapain,andIdon’ttrustvalets.”Christianflickedhisgazetowardthephoneinmylap.“Inoticedyouhaven’ttoldyourfollowersaboutusyet.”
Thewordus
mingledwiththescentsofmyperfumeandhiscolognebeforeitdissipatedwithasoftsigh.
Iraisedaneyebrowathiscasualyetstrangelyweightedobservation.“Ithoughtyoudidn’thavesocialmedia.”
“JustbecauseIdon’tusesocialmediadoesn’tmeanI’mnotawareofwhathappensonthere.”
“Youthinkyouknoweverything.”
“Ido.”Thewordsrangwiththeconfidenceofsomeonewhotrulybelievedwhattheyweresaying.
NowonderhisnamewasChristian.HehadamajorGodcomplex.
“ThenyouwouldknowI’llannounceit.Soon.”Myteethsankintomybottomlipasmynervesmadeanuntimelyreappearance.
“Youshould.”Christian’slanguidreplydrownedoutmyflickeringanxiety.“You’reattendingtonight’seventwithme.Youshouldgetsomethingoutofit.”
“Iwill.I’mjustwaitingfortherightphotoopportunity.”Ieasedacalmingbreaththroughmylungs.“MaybeI’llposttonight.”
Ifafancygaladidn’tmakeforgoodsocialmediafodder,Ididn’tknowwhatwould.
“Good.”
Awarenessflushedthroughmeatthehintofpossessivenessinhisvoice.
Astraystrandofhairslippedfrommyupdoandwispedaroundmyface.I’dbeensothrownoffbyChristian’searlyarrivalI’dforgottentosetitwithmorehairspray.
Luckily,itwasoneofthosestylesthatlookedbetterthemessieritwas,butastrangecurrentkeptmylipssealedandmybodytautwhenChristianliftedhishandtotuckthestrayhairbehindmyear.
Themovementwaslanguorous,histouchwhisper-light,butmynipplespeakedatthesoftgrazeofhisskinagainstmycheek.Hard,sensitive,beggingforanounceofthesameattention.
Iwasn’twearingabra.
Christianstilled.Hisattentionhonedinonmybody’sreactiontohissimpletouch,andIwould’vebeenhorrifiedhadInotbeensodistractedbytheachebloominginmycore.
Whiskeyandflamesignitedinthosestrikingeyes.
Hishandremainedbymycheek,buthisattentiontouchedmeeverywhere—myface,mybreasts,mystomachandachinglysensitiveclit.ItleftatrailoffiresoscorchingIhalfexpectedmydresstodisintegrate.
“Careful,Stella.”Hislowwarningpulsedbetweenmylegs.“I’mnotthegentlemanyouthinkIam.”
Imagesofcrumpledsilkanddiscardedsuits,roughwordsandroughertouches,flashedthroughmymind.Theproductsofinstinct,notexperience.
Myreplyfoughtitswaypastmydrythroat.“Idon’tthinkyou’reagentlemanatall.”
Aslow,lazysmiletuggedathislips.“Smartgirl.”
Heleanedbackandloweredhishandatthesametimeheturnedhisheadtolookoutthewindow.ThestreetsofD.C.whizzedby,butallIcouldfocusonwasthewarm,possessiveweightonmyleg.
Christian’shandrestedonmythighalmostcarelessly,likeitwasthenaturalhomeforhistouchandnotsomethinghe’dplanned.
Mydress’sslitbaredmostofmyrightleg,andthesightofhisstrong,tannedhandagainstmyexposedskindidnothingtoalleviatetheliquidpressurecoiledinmystomach.
ButthelongerIstared,themoremylustfulhazefaded,replacedbyaestheticinstinct.
Emeraldsilk.Blacksuit.Cufflinksandanexpensivewatchthatglintedinthedyingraysofsunlight.
Theperfect,effortlessphotoofacouple’snightout.
BeforeIcouldsecondguessmyself,Iraisedmyphoneandsnappedthepicture.
IsnuckapeekatChristian.Hestaredoutthewindow,hisprofileflawlessagainsttheglass.IfheknewI’dtakenthephoto,hedidn’tshowit.
Thenagain,Ihadn’tcapturedhisface,soitwasn’tagainstourterms.
IfinallysummonedthecouragetopostwhenthecarstoppedinfrontoftheSmithsonian.
Datenightwithmylove<3
Ihesitatedatthemylove
partofthecaptionbeforeIpressedthesharebutton.
IfIwasdoingthis,Imightaswellgoallin.Myboyfriend
didn’thavethesameringasmylove.
“Youready?”Christianaskedasthedriveropenedthebackdoor.
Ituckedmyphoneintomypurse.Tensecondsandmynotificationswerealreadyblowingup,butIwoulddealwiththemlater.
Ihadagalatoattend.
Itookhishandandpastedonasmile.
Cool,calm,collected.
“Absolutely.”
Itwasshowtime.8
CHRISTIAN
Blackhadalwaysbeen
myfavoritecolor.
Silent.Deadly.Impenetrable.
Ifeltathomeinit,likeshadowsmergingwiththeinkywellsofnight.
Yetinthespanofasecond,she’dupendedthatasshehadeveryotherthinginmylife.
HeatpouredthroughmybloodasStellawalkedinfrontofmeandslowlyturned,takinginthelavishdecor.Themuseum’slong-runningelephantdisplayservedasathirteen-foot-tallcenterpiecewhileprojectionsofmarinelifedancedonthewalls,givingtheillusionthatwewereunderwater.Black-cladserverscirculatedwithchampagneandhorsd’oeuvres,andastagesatatthefarsideoftheroom,waitingforthehosttoclimbonandcongratulateeveryoneonhowmuchmoneythey’draisedattheendofthenight.
Theseatsforthiseventwereeightthousanddollarsapop.
I’dspentmorethanthatonherdress,andit’dbeenwortheverycent.
“Thisisbeautiful,”Stellabreathed,herattentionrestingonsomethingbehindme.
Greeneyes.Greendress.Symbolicoflifeandnature.
Green.
Apparently,itwasmynewfavoritefuckingcolor.
“Yes,itis.”Ididn’tturntoseewhatshewassoenrapturedby,nordidIpayattentiontothecuriousstarespeoplesentourway.
Ihadn’tbeenspottedwithawomanonmyarminoverayear.Bytomorrowmorning,thecitywouldbeabuzzaboutthedateI’dbrought,butIcouldn’tcareless.
FromthemomentStellahadsteppedintoherlivingroomwearingthatdamndress,everyotherthoughthadcrumbledintodust.
Asoftflameofresentmentburnedinmychest.Ihatedtheholdshehadonme,butstill,Icouldn’tstoplookingather.
Aturnofmyheadinthecarrideover.
Alast-minuteflighttoafar-flungcountrytokeepmyselfaway.
ScatteredweeksandmonthswhenI’dthrownmyselfintoworktoforgether.
NomatterwhatIdid,somethingalwaysdrewmeback—thegentleliltofhervoice,thescentoffreshfloralsandgreenery.AturquoiseringthatburnedaholeinmypocketlongafterI’dvowedtotossitinthetrash.
Itwasn’tlove.Butitwasmaddening.
Stella’sgazeslidovertomeetmine.Asoftexhalepartedherlipsatwhatevershesawonmyface,andtheurgetopushheragainstthewall,fistherhair,andcoaxhermouthopenuntilIclaimeditcompletelyignitedinmychest.
Tensiontwistedbetweenuslikeaninvisiblerope,sotangibleIfeltitsabrasivescrapeasitsnakedaroundmychest.
ThemomentstretchedasecondintoeternitybeforeStellaavertedhergaze.
Herknucklesturnedwhitearoundherclutch,buthervoicewascalmandevenwhenshespokeagain.
“Younevertoldmewhattheeventisfor.”Sheavoidedmyeyesasshelookedaroundtheroomagain.“Oceanconservation?”
Thestrangleholdaroundmychesthadloosened,butthereleaseleftmeoddlydissatisfied.
“Close.Babyturtles.”
Mymouthtippedupwhenherheadwhippedaround.
Myanswererodedsomeoftheearliertension,andStella’sgriponherpursevisiblyloosened.
“Ididn’tfigureyouforaturtlelover,Mr.Harper.What’snext?Feedingducks?Adoptingpuppies?”
Herplayfulquestionscoaxedawidersmilefromme.“Don’tholdyourbreath.IwatchedalotofFranklingrowingup.”
Herfaceglowedwithlaughter.“Ah,thatexplainsit.IwasanArthur
girlmyself.”
Ifiledthatawayforfuturereference.TherewerenounimportantdetailswhenitcametoStella.
“Aardvarksareunderappreciated,butsadly,they’renotapetcauseforRichardWyatt’swife.Nopunintended,”Iadded.
Aknowinggleamenteredhereyes.“IassumeRichardWyattisimportanttoyourbusiness.Potentialclient?”
Ihidanothersmileathowquicklyshepiecedittogether.“Yes.Bigprivateequityguy,bigmoney,lookingforanewsecurityteam.Hiswifeishisweakness.”
I’dlaseredinontheWyattstheminuteweentered.Theyheldcourtinthenortheastcorneroftheroom,surroundedbyfawningadmirers,includingthehumanequivalentofalumpofcoal.
MikeKurtz,theCEOofSentinelSecurity.
Mygoodmoodfadedatthesightofhim.
ThebastardwentaftereveryaccountIdid.Therewasn’tasingleoriginalthoughtrattlingbeneaththatoverlygelledhair.
Kurtzlookedup,andanoilysmilespreadacrosshisfacebeforehebrokeofffromthegroupandstrodetowardme.
Wewerebothinourearlythirties,butIalreadyspottedthetouchesofcosmeticsurgeryproppinguphisfadinglooks—achinaugmentationhere,someBotoxthere.
Besideme,Stellaeyedthenewarrivalwithcuriosity,whichdeepenedmyfoulmood.Kurtzdidn’tdeserveanounceofherattention.
“Christian!Hownicetoseeyouagain.”Hesmoothedahandoverhistie,oozingasmuchsincerityasacommission-starvedcarsalesman.“I’msogladyou’renotlickingyourwoundsovertheDeaconandBeatrixaccounts.Ihopeyou’renottoo
upsetwithmeaboutpoachingyourclients.”Hischucklescrapedagainstmyskinlikenailsagainstchalkboard.“It’snothingpersonal.Justbusiness.”
Irritationflared.I’dlosttwoaccountstoSentinelinoneweek.DeaconandBeatrixweretrivialcomparedtotheVIPstoppingmycompany’sclientlist,butthelossespissedmeoffnonetheless.
Ididn’tlikelosing.
“Ofcoursenot,”Isaideasily.I’dbedamnedifIshowedevenasmidgeofweaknessinKurtz’spresence.“Idon’tblamethemfortestingotherservices,butqualityalwayswinsintheend.Speakingofwhich,how’sthesystemrebuildgoing?It’sawfulwhatcanhappenwhenyoursystemsaresubpar.”
Kurtz’sfacetightened.Hewasabottomfeeder,buthewassmartenoughtorecognizeI’dhadahandincausingthesystemfailurethatwipedmillionsoffSentinel’smarketvaluelastyear.
Hejustcouldn’tproveit.
“It’sgoinggreat,”hefinallysaid.“Butthestrengthofacompanyismeasuredbyclientretention,notbyfreakfailures.I’msureRichardWyattwouldagree.”
“I’msurehewould.”
Hesmiled.
Ismiled.
Abulletholeinhisforeheadwouldbetheperfectcomplementtohisvanity.Hewoulddieyoungandunravagedbyoldage.
Foreverthirty-three.
It’dbeanactofmercy,deliveredwiththeswiftnessofonesilencedgunshot.
40320EastshoreDrive.Securitycode708.
Soeasy.
Onebulletinthemiddleofthenight,onerivalsnuffedoutforever.
TemptationlickedattheedgesofmyconsciousnessbeforeIdousedit.
SentinelandHarperSecuritywerewell-knowncompetitors.IffoulplaybefellKurtz,Iwouldbeoneofthefirstsuspects,andIdidn’thavetimeforthefuckingpaperworkthat
wouldbring.
“Speakingofquality…”KurtzturnedtoStella,who’dbeenwatchingourexchangewithabemusedexpression.“Whoisyourstunning
date?”
Sheansweredafterseveralbeatsofhesitation.“I’mStella.”Shegracedhimwithatentativesmile.
Somethingdarkandvolatileburnedinthepitofmystomach.
“I’mMike.”Heoozedsleazycharmasheheldouthishand.
Shedidn’tgetachancetoshakeitbeforeIcutinbetweenthemtowhisktwoglassesofchampagneoffapassingserver’stray.
“Ialmostforgottogivemycondolences,”Idrawled.IhandedoneglasstoStellaandtwinedmyfreehandwithhers.“Iheardaboutthe…unfortunateincidentwithoneofyourclients.It’sashametherearen’tmorereliablebodyguardsthesedays,butatleasttheclienthasmostofhisfingersleft.”
Stellaslidaglanceinmydirection
Shewasthetypeofpersonwhohadasmileandkindwordsforeveryone,whopaidforheroldnanny’scareatherownexpenseandwouldgivesomeonetheshirtoffherback.
TheviciousundercurrentofmyconversationwithKurtzwasprobablyasforeigntoherasselflesscharitywastome.
Icouldonlyimaginehowshe’dreactifshediscoveredsomeofthethingsI’ddone.
Notthatsheeverwould.
Thereweresomethingsshecouldneverknow.
Thewarmthfromherpalmradiatedupmyarmandeasedsomeoftheblack,restlessenergychurninginmychest.
ItfeltwrongtotouchherwhenIwasthisonedge,likemydarknesswouldseepthroughmytouchanddevourherlight.
Iforcedmyselftodialbackthehostility,ifonlyforhersake.Ididn’twanttotaintourfirst“date”.
Still,Icouldn’tresistafinaldigatKurtz.
“Youmightwanttobrushuponyouremployeetraining,though.”Itookalanguoroussipofmydrink.“Sometimes,thegreatestthreattoacompanyisn’texternalcompetition.It’sinternalincompetence.”
Kurtz’sfaceflushedasatisfyingshadeofcrimson.“Apleasureasalways,Harper.”Sarcasmdrippedfromhisreply.HenoddedatStella.“Stella,itwaslovelymeetingyou.Ihopetoseeyouagainsoon,andwithamoreagreeabledate.”
Myhandflexedaroundmychampagneglass.
Overmydeadfuckingbody.
“Friendofyours?”StellaaskedwrylyaskedafterMikestormedoff.
“Myleastfavoriteone.MikeKurtz,theCEOofSentinelSecurity…”
“HarperSecurity’sbiggestcompetitor,”shefinished.
Apleasantwarmthchippedawayatmyearlierirritation.“BeenGooglingme,Ms.Alonso?”
Sheliftedherchin,hercheeksturninganadorablebrick-red.“Idon’tenterpretendrelationshipswithoutdoingmyresearch.”
“Hmm.”Ifoughtalaughatherdignifiedtone.“Thenyou’llknowIattendedMIT.Mikewasaclassmate.Wecompetedforeverything—grades,girls,internships.Iwasalwaysastepahead,andhehatedit.He’smadeithislife’smissiontoone-upeverythingIdo.”Awrynoteenteredmyvoice.“He’syettosucceed.”
UnlesshecountedtheDeaconandBeatrixaccounts,whichwerenothinginthegrandschemeofthings.
Iwascompetitiontohim.Hewasanannoyancetome.
Stella’sbrowfurrowed.“Thatsoundslikeanexhaustingwaytolive.”
“Perhaps.”
PeoplelikeMikeweretoosmall-mindedtodevisetheirowngoals,sotheylookedtothosewhoweremoresuccessfulthanthemforaroadmapinstead.
Nooriginality.Notruepurposeordrive.Justamindlessneedtostroketheiregosforanaudienceofone.
Itwould’vebeensadhadIgiventwoshitsabouttheirlives.
“Well,I’msureyou’llgettheaccount.”MischieflitStella’seyes.“I,personally,wouldn’tentrustmywellbeingtosomeonewhowearsalightbluesuittoablack-tieevent.”
Thistime,Ididn’thidemylaugh.
StellaandIcirculatedtheroomforthenexthourbeforewefinallycamefacetofacewithRichardWyatt.
Aftertheobligatorysmalltalk,Isteeredtheconversationtowardhissecurityneeds,butheseemedmoreinterestedinmyrelationshipwithStella.
“ChristianHarperwithagirlfriend.IneverthoughtI’dseetheday.”Richardchuckled.“Howdidyoumeet?”
“WemetatQueenBridget’swedding,”Isaidsmoothly.“Isawheracrosstheroomandaskedhertodance.Therestishistory.”
Intruth,we’dexchangedonlyaquickgreetingatBridget’swedding,butthestoryStellaandIhadconcoctedforourmeetcuteservedseveralpurposes:itwassimple,easytoremember,moreinterestingthanadmittingwemetduringanapartmenttour,andcloseenoughtothetruthwewouldn’ttripourselvesupifsomeonedugdeeper.
Plus,name-droppingBridgetalwaysimpressedclients,thoughRichard’sfaceremainedunreadable.
“Speakingofhistory,Iunderstandyou’vehadbadexperienceswithprotectionservicesinthepast.”Isteeredtheconversationbacktothetopicathand.“Butgivenyourpublicprofile,abodyguardisanecessity,notaluxury.”
Richardgavemeawrylook.“It’salwaysbusinesswithyou,Harper.”
Yeah,Ididn’tattendthisfundraiserformyfuckinghealth.
Babyturtles?Cute,butnotcuteenoughformetospendaSaturdaynightsavingthemorwhateverthehellthepartywassupposedtodo.
Ididn’tneed
Richardasaclient.Mostofmymoneycamefrombehind-the-scenessoftwareandhardwaredevelopment,notprotectionservices.
Buthispickinesswhenitcametohiringwaslegendary,andIthrivedonachallenge.
“Youshouldspendmoretimewithfamily,”hesaid.“Relaxalittle.Itookmywifeandkidsskiinglastmonth,anditwasthebest…”
Itunedhimoutasheyammeredonabouthisson’snaturaltalentatsnowsports.Igavenegativefucksabouthisfamilyvacation,andhiskidssoundedannoyingasshit.
Stella,ontheotherhand,appearedgenuinelyinterested.Sheaskedquestionsabouthiskids’hobbiesandofferedtoconnecthimwithaneco-friendlyfashionbrandthatmightbeagoodpartnerforhiswife’sannualcharityfashionshow.
ItwasallsocordialIwantedtoshootsomeonejusttoliventhingsup.
“Wherewasyourlastfamilyvacation?”Richarddrewmyattentionbacktohim.
“Idon’tgoonfamilyvacations.”Evenifmyfamilywerealive,IwouldrathercutoffmyarmthangoonsomegroupcruisethroughtheCaribbean.
Richard’sbushybrowscollapsedintoafrownwhileStellasqueezedmyhandinwhatfeltlikeanadmonishment.
“Christiancanbeaworkaholic,butheisn’tall
businessallthetime,”shesaidquickly.“Funfact:wedancedatthewedding,butIdidn’tagreetodateChristianuntillater.WhenIranintohimwhilevolunteeringataseniorlivingfacility.”
Mysmilefroze.Whatthefuck?
Thatwasnot
thestorywe’dagreedon.
“Christianvolunteering?”SkepticismcoloredRichard’swords.
Ididn’tblamehim.Mycharitywentasfaraswritingabigcheck.
“Yes.”Stella’ssmiledidn’tbudge.Sheignoredmywarningglancetostayonscriptandcontinued,“Hewasabituncomfortableatfirst,butit’sgrownonhim.He’sanatural.Theresidentsjustadorehim,especiallyduringbingonight.”
Sheloweredhervoice.“Hedoesn’tadmitit,butheletsthemwinonpurpose.Isawhimhidingawinningcardonce.”
Bingonight?Lettingthemwin
?Forfuck’ssake.
“Huh.”Richardeyedmewithnewfoundinterest.“Didn’tknowyouhaditinyou,Harper.”
“Trustme.”MytonematchedtheSaharaindryness.“NeitherdidI.”
WechattedforafewminuteslongerbeforeRichard’swifecameuptous.SheandStellainstantlystruckuparapportanddriftedoffontheirownconversation,leavingmeandRichardtodiscussbusiness.
Helistenedtomemakethecaseforwhyheneededaprofessionalprotectionteam,butheinterruptedmebeforeIcouldmakeanofficialpitch.
“Iknowwhyyoucame,Harper,andit’snotforthebabyturtles.NotthatIwouldtellmywifethat.ShewasthrilledwhenyouRSVPedyes.”Richardcastanaffectionateglanceathiswife,whowastalkingtotheambassadorfromEldorra.
Myshouldersstiffened.WherethehellisStella?
She’dbeentalkingtoRichard’swifejusttenminutesago.
Myeyesscannedtheroom,butIdidn’tfindherbeforeRichardspokeagain.“MyphonehasbeenringingoffthehookwithsecurityofferssinceIletgoofmyoldteam.Andyes,IknowHarperSecurityisthebest.”HeheldupahandwhenIopenedmymouthtorespond.“ButIliketogetonwellwiththepeopleIworkwith.Ineedtotrustthem.You’vealwaysbeenacoldbastard,but…”Herubbedahandoverhisjaw.“PerhapsIwaswrong.”
ThepuzzlepiecesforwhyStellahadgoneoffscriptclickedintoplace.
Shemust’vepickeduponRichard’sbafflingneedforpersonalconnection.
Noneofmybusinesspartnersandcurrentclientsgaveashitaboutpersonalconnection.Theyonlycaredaboutgettingthejobdone.
Therewasafirstforeverything,Isuppose.
IhidatinysmilebeforeIclosedthedealStellahadopenedforme.
I’dunderestimatedher.
OnceIhadtheopening,ittookmelessthantenminutestoextractaverbalagreementfromRichard.He’dhavethecontractinhisinboxbytheendofthenight.
Kurtzwasoutofthegamebeforeheevengotinthering.
WhenRichardlefttogreetanotherguest,IscannedtheroomagainforStella.
Richard’swifeandtheambassadorwerestilltalkingbytheelephantdisplay.Kurtzwashittingonsomeunluckyblondeatthebar.
NoStellainsight.
Evenifshe’dgonetothebathroom,sheshouldbebackbynow.
It’dbeentoolong.
Something’swrong.
Myheartbeatsloweduntilitwasadistantdruminmyears.
Ipushedthroughthecrowd,ignoringtheprotestsanddirtylooksasIsearchedforanyglimpseofdarkcurlsandgreensilk.
Nothing.
Afleetingimageofherlyingonafloorsomewhere,hurtandbleeding,flashedthroughmymind.Panicswelled,soforeignmybodyfoughtitsencroachmentuntilthehot,franticrushfinallyoverpoweredmyresistanceandfloodedmyveins.
Mostpeople’sreactionswouldn’thaveveeredimmediatelyintoshe’sindanger
territory,butIworkedinpersonalsecurity.Thatwasmyfuckingjob.
Plus,I’daccumulatedalonglistofenemiesovertheyears.Manywouldn’thesitatetogettomethroughsomeoneIcaredabout,andStellaandIhaddebutedasacoupletonight.
Dammit.
Ishould’vebeenmorecareful,butI’dvettedtheguestlist.OtherthanKurtz,whowasascompetentasatoddleroperatingheavymachinery,Ihadn’tseenanyonewhowascauseforconcern.
Ofcourse,someonecould’veeasilyslippedinwiththeservers,ushers,ordozensofotherpeopleworkingtheparty.
MyjawtickedasIenteredadimlylithallofftothesideofthemainroom.
Ifanyonetouchedagoddamnhaironherhead…
Adoorswungopenattheendofthehalland,likeI’dconjuredherthroughsheerforceofwill,Stellasteppedout,lookingcalmandunharmed.
Surprisecrossedherfacewhenshesawme.
“Hey!Didyouclosethe—”HersentencecutoffwithasoftgaspwhenIclosedthedistancebetweenusandbackedheragainstthewall.
“Wherewereyou?”MypulsebeatafuriousrhythmasIscannedherfromheadtotoe,searchingforinjuriesorsignsofdistresswhileshestaredatmelikeIwasanalienthat’dcrash-landedonearth.
“Iwasinthebathroom.”Shespokeslowlythewayshewouldtoachild.ItwasonlythenInoticedthebathroomsignsmarkingthedoors.
Afrowncreasedherbrow.“Iseverythingokay?You’reactingweird.”
No,they’renot.Thingshaven’tbeenokaysincethedayIfirstsawyou.
“Ithoughtsomethinghappenedtoyou.”Theroughnessofmyvoicestartledmealmostasmuchastheintensityofmyrelief.
Ishouldn’tcarethismuch.Nothinggoodevercamefromallowingotherpeoplecontrolovermyemotions.
Butgoddammit,Idid,nomatterhowmuchIhatedmyselfforit.
“Nexttime,letmeknowbeforeyourunoff.”Theroughnessdeepenedintoacommand.
Ihadnodesiretoexperiencetheterrorthathadgrippedmeinthepasttenminutesagain.
Itwasugly,foreign,andcompletelyunacceptable.
“Ididn’trunoff.Iwenttothebathroom
.”AhintoffireflickeredbeneathStella’swords.“Idon’tneedtotellyoueverytimeIleaveyourside.Thatwasn’tinouragreement.Besides,youwerebusy.”
“Youwereinthebathroomforhalfanhour?”
“Someonespilledchampagneonmydress.Iwastryingtofixit.”
Myeyesdroppedtothesmall,darkstainonherskirt.
“Itdidn’twork.”Herbottomlipdisappearedbetweenherteeth.“I’msosorry.Iknowhowexpensiveitmust’vebeen.I’llfindawaytopay—”
“Fuckthedress.”It’dcostnearlytenthousanddollars,butIcouldn’tsummontwoshitsaboutwhathappenedtoit.
IfIhadmyway,Iwouldtearitoffhermyself.
Ahot,headyawarenessreplacedmypanic.Nooneelsewasinthehallway,andStella’sscent—fresh,subtle,butdamnintoxicating—cloudedmyhead.
Thememoryofherinthecar,staringatmewiththosebiggreeneyesandpartedlips,herhardnipplesallbutbeggingmetotaketheminmymouthandtastehowsweettheywere,flashedthroughmymind.
Notunlikethewayshewasstaringatmenow,onlythistime,defiancesharpenedtheedgesofhersoftness.
Andfuck,thatwasaturn-on.
Heatrushedtomygroinuntilmycockachedwithapainfulthrob.
“WhatIwant…”Ipressedathumbagainstthepulseatthebaseofherneck.Itswildfluttertoldmeshewasn’tasindifferenttothepullbetweenusasshepretendedtobe.“Isforyoutobesafe.Therearebadpeopleinthisworld,Butterfly,andsomeofthemareintheroomrightoutside.Sonexttime,Idon’tcareifI’minthemiddleofaconversationwiththeQueenoffuckingEngland.Interruptme.Understand?”
Stella’seyesnarrowed.“Butterfly?”
Beautiful.Elusive.Hardtocatch.
WhenIdidn’tanswer,shereleasedanexhalethatcaressedmychestandtightenedmygrointothepointofpain.“Isthatallyouwant?”
“Notevenclose.”
Atinyshiverrippledthroughher.“Becauseyoudon’twanttogothroughthetroubleoffindinganotherregularcompanionforevents.”
“BecauseIdon’twanttobejailedformurderifanyonetouchesahaironyourhead.”
Agrimsmiletouchedmylipswhenhereyeswidened.ShehadnocluewhoIwasorwhatIwascapableof.
Meanwhile,IknewmoreaboutherthanIcaredtoadmit.
Frustrationandloathingburnedbeneathmyskin.
Ipushedmyselfoffthewallandsteppedback.
Adjustedmycufflinks.
Triedtoeasetherelentless,poundingneedinmychest.
“It’stimetoreturntotheparty.”Icecooledmyvoice.“Shallwe?”
Wereturnedtothepartyinsilence.
Ididn’ttakemyeyesoffhertherestofthenightandtoldmyselfitwasbecauseIdidn’twantarepeatofmyearlierscare.
Afterall,I’dalwaysbeengoodatlyingtomyself.9
STELLA
“Stella!
Iknowyou’reinthere.Openup!”
Ohno.
Iburiedmyfaceinmysilkpillowcase,hopingthevoicewouldgoaway,butknowingitsowner,theywouldcampoutinmyhalluntilIinevitablyhadtoleaveforfreshairandfood.
Mymorningvisitorwasnothingifnotpersistent.
“StellaAlonso!Youcan’thidefromme.”Apause,followedbyamoreconciliatory,“Ihavematcha.”
Agroanescapedintomypillow.
Ishouldn’thaveputJulesonmylistofapprovedvisitors,butIalsohadn’texpectedhertobeatdownmydoorat…Iraisedmyheadandglancedatmydigitalclock…sevenfifty-fourinthemorning.
Sinceshewasalreadyhereandthechancesofherleavingwithoutanswerswereslim,Iforcedmyselfoutofbedandintothelivingroom.
IwishI’dhadmoretimetoprepareforhumaninteraction.Ihadn’tevengottenthechancetowashmyfaceyet,muchlessmeditateorpracticemymorningyoga.
IstifledayawnasIswungopenthedoorandblinkedatthefuzzypurple-cladfigureinfrontofme.
“It’sabouttime.”Julesstoodinthehall,onehandplantedonherhipandtheothercarryingadrinkstrayfromanearbycoffeeshop.“FivemoreminutesandIwould’vebrokendownyourdoor.”
“Withyourarmstrength?Doubtful.”
Icrackedasmileatheroffendedgasp.“WhoareyouandwhathaveyoudonetoStella?Shewouldnever
saysomethingsohurtful.”
“TheStellayou’retalkingabouttypicallydoesn’thavepeoplepoundingdownherdoorateightinthemorning.”
Irubbedahandovermyface.Myheadfeltlikeitwasstuffedwithcottonballs,andIcouldn’tconcentrateonanythingotherthanhowmuchI’drathercrawlbackintobed.
“Firstofall,it’seightoh-five.Secondofall,canyoublameme
afterthebombshellyoudroppedonInstagramyesterday?You—”Julesexhaledsharplyandsmoothedahandoverherfuzzypurplecoat.“No,we’renotdoingthisinthehallway.Let’stalkinside.CanIcomein?”
“WouldyouleaveifIsaidno?”
Herlaserstareburnedthroughhergiantsunglassesandintomyskin.
Right.
Isighedandopenedthedoorwider.“Youmentionedmatcha?”
Igaveuponcoffeeyearsagobecauseitworsenedmyanxiety.MatchalattesweretheclosestIcametoespressothesedays.
“Yes.Considerthismybribeforallthejuicydetails.”Juleshandedmethedrinkasshewaltzedinsideandpushedhersunglassesontopofherhead.“Now…”Sheinhaledalong,deepbreath.“You’redatingsomeone?Youcalledhimmylove?HowdidInotknowaboutthis?Howlonghaveyoubeendating?”
Iwincedattheincreasingvolumeofherquestionswhileaconstructioncrewinvadedmyhead.
Bang.Bang.BANG!
Everyswingofahammerreverberatedthroughmyskullwithbone-rattlingforce.
HowmuchdidIdrinklastnight?Notthat
much,right?Iusuallylimitedmyalcoholintaketothreeglassespernight,butIwouldn’tbethishungoverafterthreeglasses.
Ipinchedthebridgeofmynoseandtriedtopiecethefuzzypiecesfromlastnighttogether.
BabyturtlesWhiskeyeyes.Champagneandgownsand…
“Isthatallyouwant?”
“Notevenclose.”
ThememoryofmyencounterwithChristianslammedintomewithsuchforceitknockedthebreathoutofmylungs.
Everythingcamerushingback—ouragreement,thephotoIposted,thedeliciousroughnessofhishandinminewhenweweretalkingtoMike,andtheheadinessofhisscentwhenhepinnedmetothewall.
PartofmewasannoyedbyhisoverprotectivenesswhenI’djustgonetothebathroom,forGod’ssake.
Anotherlarger,moreshamefulpartthrilledattheideathathecared.
Pathetic?Probably.
True?Undeniably.
NoonehadcaredthatmuchaboutmesinceMaura,andChristianandIweren’tevenreallydating.
“…whoisit?”
“Hmm?”WasChristianathome,orhadhealreadyleftfortheday?
Itriedtopicturehimeatingandsleepinglikeanormalpersonandcouldn’t.
“Who’syourboyfriend?”Julesrepeated.“Youdidn’ttaghim,butthatwatch…
”Shewiggledhereyebrows.“Icantelljustbyhishandthathe’shot.”
Anotherpiecefromlastnightslottedintoplace.
MyInstagrampost.I’dbeensobusyatthegalaIhadn’tcheckedmynotifications.
Iswallowedpastthesuddenlumpinmythroat.“I—”
“Goodmorning!”Aquickknockonthehalf-opendoorinterruptedmyresponse.Avaentered,lookingfartoobright-eyedandfresh-facedforthisearlyinthemorning.“AmIlate?DidImissanythinggood?”ShesetawhiteCrumble&Bakebagonasidetable.“Breakfastpastries,”sheexplained,followingmygaze.
Sheopenedthebagandhandedoutmuffins.
Mymouthwateredatthesmell.
Atleastmyfriendsbroughtfoodtomyinterrogation.Iwasn’taboveacceptingbribery.
Ialmostgroanedasthetasteofwarm,freshlybakedmuffinexplodedonmytongue.Definitelynotaboveacceptingbribery.
“Stellawasjustabouttotellmewhohermysterymanis.”Julesrippedoffapieceofblueberrymuffinandpoppeditintohermouth.
Ava’sfacelitup.“Ibethe’shot,”shesaid.“Youcantellbythewatch.”
“That’swhatIsaid!”Julesbeamed.“Greatmindsthinkalike.”
Thebananamuffinturnedsourinmymouthastheystaredatmeexpectantly.
Itwasonethingtolieonsocialmedia;itwasanothertolietomyfriends’faces.Ididn’ttellthemeverythingaboutmylife—theythoughtIhadagreatrelationshipwithmyfamily,andtheydidn’tknowaboutMaura.Beingthe“perfect”familywassoimportanttomyparentsthatsharinganythingthatdidn’talignwiththatfeltmoredifficultthanitshouldhave.
AvaandJulesweremybestfriends,yetIstillkeptsomuchofmylifetomyself.
ButcouldIstandhereandtellthemChristianandIweredatingwhenweweren’t?Notreally,anyway.
Onestepatatime.
They’donlyaskedforhisname,notthedetailsofourrelationship.I’dcrossthatbridgewhenIgottoit.
“He’s—”
Iwasinterruptedyetagain,thistimebytheinsistentringofmyphone.
Ididn’thavetocheckcallerIDtoknowwhowascalling,andaquickglanceattheincomingFaceTimeprovedmeright.
“Hi,Bridget.”Irubbedmyfaceagain.Iwouldkillforsomeyogarightnow.IneverfeltrightwhenIstartedthedaywithoutit.“Iassumeyou’recallingtojointheinquisition?”
“Funny.”Bridgetraisedanelegantblondebrow.“Butsinceyoumentionit,yes.Thisisthesecond
timeI’vebeenkeptoutoftheloopregardingyourlovelives.Idon’tappreciateit.”
Lastsummer,JulesshockedusallwhensheannouncedshewasdatingAva’sbrotherJosh.JoshandJuleshadhatedeachothersincethedaytheymet,andaromanticrelationshipbetweenthemhadseemedaslikelyassnowfallinMiami
However,theywerestillgoingstrongaftertheymadethingsofficialsevenmonthsago,soIguesstheoldadagewastrue.Therereallywasathinlinebetweenloveandhate.
Despitethenervescoiledinmystomach,IhadtofightalaughatBridget’suncharacteristicgrumbling.
“I’msureyouhavemorethingstoworryaboutthanourlovelives,YourMajesty
,”Iteased.
She’dbeenaprincessduringourcollegedays,butshebecamequeenafterherolderbrotherabdicatedandhergrandfathersteppeddownduetohealthreasons.
ItstillboggledmymindthatIwasbestfriendswithaliteralqueen,butBridgetwassodowntoearthIforgotshewasroyaltyhalfthetime.
Shewrinkledhernose.“Morethings?Yes.Moreinteresting
things?Debatable.”
“Guys,please.Let’sgetthingsbackontrack,”Julessaid.“Whohaveyoubeenhidingfromus,Stel?Giveusaname.Picture.Anything.Please,
IneedtoknowbeforeIdiefromcuriosity.”
Shefloppedontothecouchinadramaticheap.
Ishookmyhead.
IfIlookedupdramaqueen
inthedictionary,I’dfindJulesAmbrose’sfacenexttoit,butIlovedheranyway.Atleastshewasintofundramaandnotthenasty,backstabbingkind
“Fine.I’lltellyou,butdon’tfreakout.”Idrewmybottomlipbetweenmyteeth.“It’sChristianHarper.”
Threeblankstaresgreetedmyconfession.
Icouldn’trememberthelasttimemyfriendshadbeenthisspeechless.Theyusuallytalkedmorethanadaytimetalkshowhost.
ThetasteofcopperfilledmymouthfromhowhardIwasbitingmylip.
“Rhys’soldboss?”Bridget’sbrowcreasedwithconfusion.
HerhusbandRhysusedtoworkforHarperSecurity.Thatwasactuallyhowtheymet.He’dbeenassignedtoherafterherpreviousbodyguardreturnedhometoEldorraforpaternityleave.
“Yes.”
“Whatdoeshehavetodowiththis?”Juleslookedequallyconfused.
“He’smyboyfriend.”
Stillnothing.ImightaswellbetalkingtotheMadameTussaud’swaxversionsofmyfriendsforallthereactiontheyshowed.
“Who’syourboyfriend?”Avaasked
Oh,forgoodness’sake.
“ChristianHarper.”
Ithrewmyhandsup.“He’stheguyinthephotoIpostedlastnight!We’redating.Well,fakedating,butthat’sanotherstory.”
Silencestretchedforalong,stunnedsecondbeforechaoserupted.
“ChristianHarper
?”
“Whatdoyoumean,fakedating?”
“He’sdangerous—”
“Howlonghasthisbeengoingon—”
“Isheforcingyouintothis,becauseIsawthewayhelookedatyou—”
“Stop
.”Ipinchedthebridgeofmynose.
ThiswaswhyIdidn’tsharethingsaboutmylifeoften.NotbecauseIdidn’twantaccountability,butbecauseofotherpeople’sreactionsandexpectations,whatevertheymaybe.
IforcedacalmingbreaththroughmynosebeforeIaddressedmyfriends’pointsonebyone.
“Yes,Christianismyfakeboyfriend.LikeIsaid,it’salongstory.Heisnot
dangerous—Imean,he’salittleintense,butherunsasecuritycompany.Hisjobisliterallytoprotectpeople’slives.Plus,he’sfriendswithRhys,sohecan’tbethatbad.Lastnightwasourfirstfakedate,andno,heisnotforcingmeintothis.”
Thelastpartwasdefinitelytrue.Therestwasdebatable,butIkeptthattomyself.
“Iwouldn’tsayhe’sbest
friendswithRhys.Theyhave…”Bridgetpaused,“aninterestingrelationship.”
“ForgetRhys,”Julessaid.“Nooffense,Bridge.He’sgreatandall,butIwanttoknowabouttheboyfriendpart.Stel,youdon’tevenwantarealrelationship.Whyonearthareyouinafakeone?Areyouintrouble?”Concerndimmedsomeofthesparkleinhereyes.
Guiltflaredtolifeinmychest.
Ihatedburdeningpeoplewithmyproblems,butIshould’veanticipatedtheirworry.Anyromanticrelationshipwasoutofthenormforme.Iwasn’topposedtodating,Ijust…wasn’tinterested.
Ilikedtheidea
ofit.WhenIreadaromancebook,watchedaromanticscene,orsawcutecouplesatdinner,ayearningforsomethingsimilartuggedatmygut.ButoncethebookormoviewasoverandIre-enteredthebrightlightofreality,theyearningdisappeared.
Romanticizinglovewaseasy.Fallinginlovewasharder,especiallywhenmypreviousrelationshipshadalllacked…something
.Somesortofemotionalconnectionthatwouldmaketheriskoffallingworthit.
Plus,I’dgottenusedtobeingsingle,andIdoubtedtherealityoflovecouldliveuptomyfantasiesofit,soIdidn’teventry.
“I’mnotintrouble.Ipromise,”IsaidwhenInoticedJules’sskepticalexpression.“Ijust…”NeedmoresocialmediafollowerssoIcanmakemoremoney.
Myskinheatedathowshallowthatsounded.
Thetruthwasmorecomplicated,butIcouldn’tdigintoitwithouttellingmyfriendsaboutMaura,andthat
wasaconversationIwasn’tpreparedtohaveateight-thirtyinthemorning.
“I’mintherunningforahugebranddeal,butIdon’thaveasmanyfollowersassomeoftheothergirls.IfiguredIcouldimprovemychancesifIhitthemillionmark.”
Bridget’sfrowndeepened.“Howdoesthattieinwithgettingaboyfriend?”
Ireluctantlyexplainedtherestofmyplan.ItsoundedevenmoreridiculouswhenIsaiditoutloudtopeoplewhoweren’tfamiliarwiththeinfluencerworld,buttherewasnopointinholdingback.
WhenIfinished,thesilencewasathousandtimesheavierthantheonebefore.
“Wow,”Avafinallysaid.“That’s…wow.”
“Issexpartofthedeal?Ifit’snot,itshouldbe.Christianlookslikehewouldbeabeast
inbed.”Asexpected,Juleswasthefirsttogetoverhershockandjumpstraighttothedirtypart.“Nooffense,butyoucouldusealittlelovin’inyourlife.Asmuchasweadoreyou,therearesomethingswecan’tprovide.”
“No,itisn’t,anditneverwillbe,”Isaidfirmly.
I’dmadeitcleartoChristianthatourarrangementwouldn’tencompassanyphysicaldisplaysofaffectionunlesstheywerenecessarytosellourpublicimageasacouple.
Sexdidn’tfactorintotheequationAtall.
Nomatterhowgorgeoushewasorhowgoodhemight
beinbed.
Myskinheatedatamentalimageofanaked—
Don’tgothere.
ThiswaswhathappenedwhenImissedmymorningroutine.Mybrainfreakedoutandstartedpicturingthingsithadnobusinesspicturing.
Icouldn’tevenrememberthelasttimeI’dfantasizedaboutsex,letalonehadit.
“Areyousure
everything’sokay?”Ava’sconcernwaspalpable.“You’venevercaredthatmuchaboutyourfollowercountbefore.”
Ihadn’tobsessedoveritthewayotherbloggersdid,butsayingIdidn’tcarewasgivingmetoomuchcredit.
Everyonetryingtogrowaplatformonsocialmediacared,andthosethatsaidtheydidn’twerelying.
Thoselittlenumberscouldwreakhavoconanyone’smentalhealth.
“I’mnottryingtobecombative,”Avaaddedsoftly.“Ifthisiswhatyouwanttodo,we’llsupportyou.Itjustseemsalittle…”
“Outofcharacter,”Bridgetfinished.
Istaredatthehalf-emptytakeoutcupinmyhand.“Maybe.Butmaybeit’salsotimetotrysomethingnew.”
Iwastwenty-six.I’dhadone“real”jobsinceIgraduatedandnosignificantdevelopmentsinmypersonalorprofessionallifes.Iconsideredbloggingmysecondjob,butalotofpeopledidn’tandIhatedhowIlettheiropinionsaffectthemanyhoursofrealworkIpouredintowriting,styling,photography,andsocialmedia.
IwasbasicallydoingthesamethingI’dbeendoingsincecollege,onlyIwasolderandalittlemorejaded.
Meanwhile,AvahadmovedtoLondon(evenifit’donlybeentemporary),gotengaged,andlandedherdreamjobtravelingtheworldasaphotographer;Bridgetgotmarriedandbecameafreakingqueen,
andJulespassedthebar,becameahigh-poweredattorney,andmovedinwithherboyfriend.
EveryonewasstartingnewchaptersoftheirliveswhileIwasstuckintheprologue,waitingformystorytobetold.
Iswallowedthebitternesscoatingmytongue.IfIdidn’tshakethingsup,I’dbeanunfinishedmanuscriptforever.Athousandpotentialwordsthatnevermadeitontothepage.Someonewhocould’ve
beensomethinginsteadofsomeonewhodid
something.
“Understandable.Changeisthespiceoflife,”Julesagreed.Herfacesoftenedbeforesheadded,“LikeAvasaid,we’renottryingtochallengeyouonthis.Wejustwanttomakesureit’swhatyoureallywant.Ifyou’rehappy,we’rehappy.”
“Iknow.”Icrackedatinysmile.“Attheriskofsoundingcompletelycheesy…Iloveyouguys.”
“Didyouhearthat?”JulesplacedahandoverherchestandlookedatAva.“Shelovesus.Shereallylovesus!”
“Youknowwhatthatmeans,”Avasaidsolemnly.
“Youguys—”Ibarelyhadachancetoputmydrinkdownbeforetheytackledmeinahug.“Stop!”Ilaughed,myearliermelancholymeltingbeneaththeiraffection.
“Don’tmindme.I’mjustoverhereinEldorra,notjealousatall,”Bridgetsaid.
Iraisedmyphonesowecouldseeheragain.Sheworeahalf-amused,half-enviousexpression.
“Youneedtovisitussoon.Wemissyou.”
Wehadn’tseenherinpersonsinceAva’sbirthdaylastyear,whenshe’dsurprisedusattheparty.
“Iwill,Ipromise.”Bridgetgrewserious.“Inthemeantime,becarefulwithChristian.He’snotthetypeofmanwhodoesanythingoutofthegoodnessofhisheart.”
No,hewasn’t.ButIdidn’tneedBridgettotellmethat.
Aftermyfriendsleftanhourlaterwithpromisesnottotellanyone,includingtheirsignificantothers,aboutmydealwithChristian,IshoweredandbrewedmyselfafreshpotofteabeforeIfinallypickedupmyphone.IstaredattheInstagramicononmyscreenandheldmybreathasItappedintomyprofile.
Oh.My.God.
Istaredatmynumbers,sureIwashallucinating.
Overonehundredthousandlikes,fourthousandcomments,andtenthousandnewfollowersovernight.
Ipinchedmyselfandflinchedatthesharpburstofpain.Nothallucinating.
I’dexpectedgoodengagementonthephotowithChristian,butIhadn’texpectedthis
Giddinessballoonedinmychestwhilemymindracedwithpossibilities.
WouldanotherphotowithChristiangoviralinasimilarmanner,orwasthisaone-offbecauseitwasthefirstone?
Therewasonlyonewaytofindout.
Visionsofamillionfollowers,six-figurebranddeals,andpayinganentireyear’sworthofMaura’scareinonegowithsavingsleftoverdancedinmyhead.
MaybeI’dsignedadealwiththedevilwhenIagreedtomyarrangementwithChristian…
Butthatdidn’tmeanitwasn’tworthit.10
CHRISTIAN
Istared
atStella’slatestInstagrampostfromourridetothefundraiserovertheweekend.Myhandonherbarethigh,thevividgreenofhergowncontrastingwiththecoalblacksleeveofmysuit.
Somephotoswereworthathousandwords.Thisphotosaidonlyone.
Mine.
AstrangesensationsparkedinmychestbeforeIbrusheditasideandtappedonthecommentsbeneaththepost.Thereactionsrangedfromcuriositytojoytodespairfromhundredsofdistraughtmenwhobemoanedthelossofachancewithher.
Jayx098:Howcouldyoucheatonmelikethis?Ialreadytoldmyparentsweweregettingmarried??
Brycefitness:ditchthebfandgoonadatewithmeinstead.I’llmakeitworthyourwhile??
Threetriscuits:icanalsowearasuitandcufflinks.justsayin’
Myeyesnarrowed.Itappedonbrycefitness’sprofileandstudiedit.Bigmuscles.Smallbrain.StandardgymbrowhothoughthewasGod’sgifttowomen.
Howmanypoundsonabarbellwouldittaketocrushsomeone?Hmm…
Anewtextmessagepoppedup,disruptingmycalculations.
Luisa:ChristianHarper.You’vebeenholdingoutonme.
Luisa:Whydidn’tyoutellmeyouweredatingStella??
Afrowntouchedmyface.Ieyedbrycefitness’sprofileonelasttimebeforeIclosedoutoftheapp.He’dgottenlucky.
Partofme,eventhepartthatthrilledatthecopperyscentofbloodandfear,recognizedmyreactionwasn’tnormal.It’dbeenonecommentonInstagram,forfuck’ssake.
Ihadabusinesstorun,yethereIwas,scrollingthroughfuckingsocialmediaonmyburneraccount.
Noprofilephoto,nobio,nofollowers.Onefollowing.
TheturquoiseringburnedinmypocketasItypedoutaresponse.
Me:Itwasirrelevant.
Stellahadn’tshownmyfaceinthephoto,butenoughpeoplesawustogetheratthegalafornewstospread.
Apparently,thenewshadsinceescapedtheconfinesofD.C.societyandreachedNewYork.
Luisa:Youactedlikeyoudidn’tknowheratthedinner!
Me:Ididn’twanttoswayyourdecision.
Therewasalongpausebeforeshereplied.
Luisa:Whatdecision?
Me:Don’tlie,Lu.I’mbetteratitthanyouare.
Luisa:You’resuchanass.
Luisa:Anyway,itwouldn’thaveswayedmydecision.I’m95%setonwhoIwantournextbrandambassadortobe.
Istaredatthetext.Myfingersdrummedanabsentmindedrhythmonthearmrest.
Afteranothermomentofdeliberation,Ireplied.
Me:I’mglad.It’sbeenalongtimecoming.
Neutral,semi-disinterested.
Shetookthebait,asIknewshewould.
Luisa:You’renotgoingtoaskwhoitis?
Me:Iwasatthedinnertoo.Theanswerisobvious.
Ileftitatthat.LuisawassmartenoughtoknowwhoImeant.
Aknocksplitthesilence.
Iflickedmygazeup.“Comein.”
Kageentered,sotallandbroadhebarelyfitthroughmyoffice’sdoorframe.
“Ihearyougotagirlfriend.”Hewastednotimeincuttingtothechase.“HowdidInotknowaboutthis?”Anaccusatorynotecreptintohisvoice.
Hewasmyoldestand,nowthatRhyswasgone,mymostsought-afteremployeebyclients.HewasalsotheonlypersonatHarperSecuritywhodidn’tblowsmokeupmyass—alibertyIgrantedhimforsavingmylifeinColombiaadecadeago.
“Irunasecuritycompany,notagossipmagazine.Mypersonallifeisnoone’sbusiness.”Anedgeranbeneathmyotherwiseindifferenttone.Hislibertiesonlywentsofar.
Kageheldmystareforasecondbeforehelookedaway.“Understood.Buttheteamiscurious.Youdatinganinfluenceris…unexpected.”
Ileanedbackinmychairandsteepledmyhandbeneathmychin.Myphonehadbeenblowingupalldaywithpeopleexpressingsimilarsentiments.Everynewmessageandcallchippedawayatmypatience,andKage’sobservationwasnodifferent.
“Beenlookingintoher,haveyou?”Iaskedcoolly.Stella’ssocialmediawasoutthereforeveryonetosee,butthethoughtofmyguysporingoverpicturesandvideosofhersentasurgeofirritationthroughmyblood.
“Uh,well…”Kageranasheepishhandoverthebackofhisneck.“Welookedherupduringlunch.”
Christ.EveryemployeeatHarperSecuritywasex-militaryorex-CIA,yettheygossipedlikehighschoolers.
“She’shot.”Kagesankintothechairoppositemine.“Somehow,I’mnotsurprisedyourgirlfriendlookslikeagoddamnedsupermodel.It’sthecharmedlifeofabillionaireCEO,”headdeddryly.
AdarkflamekindledinmychestbeforeIsmotheredit.
“TheonlythingI’minterestedindiscussingrightnowishowwelosttheDeaconandBeatrixaccounts,”Isaidcoldly.“Not
mygirlfriend.”
Theothermaninstantlysobered.“Idugintoit,anditlookslikeaclassiccaseofpriceundercutting.Sentinelpromisedthemmoreforless.DeaconandBeatrixwerealwaysstingybastards.It’snowondertheyjumpedship.”
True,butIdidn’twantrumorscirculatingthatHarperSecuritycouldn’tholdontoitsclients.
“Youthinkit’sabigdeal?”Kagecorrectlyassessedmysilence.“Doweneedtogetthemback?”
“No.”Rulenumberoneofsurvivinginacutthroatbusiness:nevershowweakness,noteventoone’sownteam.“Letmeworryaboutbusinessstrategy.Youdowhatyoudobest.”
“Kickassandbedevastatinglyhandsome?”
“Ifthat’swhatyouthink,youneedanewmirror,becauseit’slyingtoyou.”
“Notallofuscanbeyou,Mr.PrettyBoy,butnowomanhasevercomplainedaboutmylooks.”Hewiggledhiseyebrows.“Speakingof,wannawingmanmelater?It’sbeenawhilesincewehitthebartogether.Iknowyou’reatakenmannow,butyoucandrawintheladieswhileIclosethedeal.”
“Can’t.”Istoodandadjustedthesleeveofmysuit.“Priorengagement.”
“WhyamInotsurprised?Wehaven’tgoneouttogetherinmonths.”Kageunfoldedhimselffromhischair.“Youevergonnatellmewhatthesemysterious‘priorengagements’are?”
Irespondedwithasardonicstare.
“Fine.Icantakeahint,”hegrumbled.“Havefunwithyourengagement.
”
AfterKageleft,Itidiedmydesktoitsmeticulouspre-workstatebeforeIexitedtheoffice.
Tenminuteslater,IwasspeedingdownConnecticutAvenuewhenmyphonerang.
Inosooneracceptedthecallthananannoyedgrowlfilledtheinterior.
“Whatthehell
areyouthinking?”
“Hellotoyoutoo,Larsen.”Imadeasmoothturnontoaprivate,tree-linedroad.“It’sashameyouhaven’tacquiredmoremannersnowthatyou’reroyalty.Thepalace’setiquettelessonsareseverelylacking.”
Istoppedatthegateandflashedmymembershipcardatthearmedguard.Heexamineditandnodded.
Thesecurityscannerstookmycar’sspecsbeforethegatesslidopenwithasmoothwhir.
“Funny,”Rhyssaidflatly.“Clientsshouldpayextraforyoursenseofhumor.”
“That’srich,comingfromaguywhohasno
senseofhumor.”
Mymouthtuggedupathissecond,evenmoreannoyedgrowl.
RhysLarsenusedtobemytopbodyguarduntilhefellpreytothediseasepeoplecalledlove.Now,hewasthePrinceConsortofEldorra.
Sometimes,Itextedhimphotosofhimlookingboredandgrumpyatvariousdiplomaticfunctionsjusttofuckwithhim.Ididn’tneedtosayanythingforhimtogetthegist.
You’rewhipped,andit’spathetic.
MyobsessionwithStellamightbespiralingoutofcontrol,butatleastIwasn’tattendingribbon-cuttingceremoniesforacharityshelikedandplantingtreesforanEarthDayphotoop.
“Don’ttrytochangethesubject.WhatthehellareyoudoingdatingStella?”Rhysdemanded.
Iparkedthecarintheprivategarageandwalkedtowardtheentrance.Theheavydoubledoorsopenedwithawaveofmycardoverthereader.
“Thesamethingseverymandoesinarelationship.”
“Cutthevaguebullshit,Harper.”Anoteofwarningslippedintohisvoice.“She’sBridget’sbestfriend.Ifshe’supset,Bridget’supset.AndifBridget’supset…”
“You’regoingtoknockmeoutwithyourceremonialcrown?”Myshoesechoedagainstthepolishedfloors,wherethegiantgoldV
etchedintothemiddleglowedagainstthesurroundingblackmarble.“Dulynoted.Now,Ibelieveyouhaveaneventearlytomorrowmorning.Bettergettosleep,YourHighness.Youneedyourbeautyrestforthephotoops.”
“Fuckyou.”
“Sadly,whileI’msureyouhavethewomenofEldorraswooning,you’renotmytype.”Ipassedbytherestaurantandtheentrancetothegentleman’sclubbeforeIreachedthelibrary.“Givethequeenmyregards.”
Ihungupbeforehecouldrespond.
Ishould’veknownhewouldgetsnippyabouttheStellasituation.Hewasfullywhippedbyhiswife,andshewasprotectiveofStella.
Understandable,butthatwasn’tmyproblem.Ihadn’tsigneduptobenaggedbyherfriendsaboutmyintentions.
IopenedthedoorstothelibraryandfoundthepersonIwasmeetingseatedatourusualtablebyoneofthestained-glasswindows.Leather-boundbookssoaredthreestoriestothecathedralceiling,andthelowmurmurofconversationinterruptedtheotherwisereverenthush.
Therewasnosternlibrarianyellingatpatronsfortalking,butathirty-thousand-dollarannualfeegrantedclubmembersmorefreedomthaninanypublicspace.
ThelibraryatValhallaClubwaswheredealsweremadeandallianceswereforged.EverypowerplayerinD.C.knewthat.
“You’relate.”CoolgreeneyestrackedmyprogressasIapproachedthetable.Arareeighteenth-centurychessboardsatontopofthethickoaknexttotwoemptycrystaltumblersandonefulldecanterofGlenfiddich40Yearsinglemaltscotchwhisky.
“Thateagertolose?”IremovedmyjacketanddrapeditoverthebackofmychairbeforeIsat,mymovementsunhurriedanddeliberate.
Irolledmysleevesupandpouredmyselfaglassofscotch.Nothinglikeagooddrinktostartofftheevening.
AlexVolkovpinnedmewithawrystare.“We’retiedforwins.”
“Notaftertonight.”
AlexandIhadstandingchessmatchesattheValhallaClubeverymonthforthepastfiveyears.Ourgameswerealwayshardfoughtandharderwon.
WerarelyinteractedoutsidethehushedconfinesofValhallaandtherareoccasionwhenheneededmyhelpwithsomethingcyber-related,butourmonthlymeetingswereoneofthefewsocialengagementsItrulyenjoyed.
“Yourhubriswillbeyourdownfalloneday,Harper.”Alexfilledhisglasshalfwayandraisedittohismouth.
“Perhaps,”Iagreed.“Butnottoday.”
“We’llsee.”
Normally,ourgamesweresilentwithconcentration,butAlexsurprisedmeashemovedhispawntoe4.
“So,youandStella.”
“Yes.”Anon-answerforanon-question.
“Whatareyouholdingoverher?”
IpausedforafractionofasecondbeforeIcounteredhismove.
TheAlexVolkovIknewwouldn’tgivetwoshitsaboutanyoneelse’spersonallife.
“Askingforyourfiancée?”LikeRhys’swifeBridget,Alex’sfiancéeAvawasalsobestfriendswithStella.
“Stellahasneverbeeninterestedinarelationship.”Alexignoredmyquestion.“Shealsodidn’tmentionasinglethingaboutyouoraboyfrienduntilshepostedthatphoto.Therefore,itstandstoreasonthatyou’reblackmailingher.”Thosesharpgreeneyesnarrowed.“Thenagain,you
aren’tinterestedindating,whichmeansyoueitherwanttouseherforsomethingorthetwoofyouhavestruckamutuallybeneficialdeal.”
ThiswaswhyIenjoyedAlex’scompany.Hekeptmeonmytoes.
“Don’tlettheconspiracytheoriescloudyourbrain,”Idrawled.“You’relosing.”
Blatantlie.Wewereonequalfootingsofarinthegame.
“Yourdiversiontacticsleavesomethingtobedesired,soit’snotmybrainthat’sclouded,”Alexsaid.“MaybeStellawillbetheonewho’llcrackyourIdon’tbelieveinlove
shell.It’salwaystheunexpectedones.”
I’dneverheardhimsaysomanywordsinsuchashortperiodoftime.Myamusementdeepened.“Maybe,butdoubtful.”
MyfeelingstowardStellawere…unusual,buttheyweren’tlove.ItwashardtofeelsomethingIactivelydespised
Lovemadetheworldgoround,allright.Inendless,tediouscyclesthatproducedhorridsongs,evenmorehorridmovies,andannualabominationslikeValentine’sDay.
Irarelyfounditanythingotherthanpoisonous.
“Sincewhendidyoubecomesochatty?”Ipushedmyknightintoadefensiveposition.“Don’ttellmeyou’veevolvedintoanactualhumanbeing.WeshouldputoutabulletinintheValhallanewsletter.Theothermemberswillbethrilled.”
ValhallaClubdidn’thaveanewsletter,butitsmembershadtheirownmethodsfortrackingtheirfriends’andfoes’livesalike.
“Asthrilledastheyaretolearnofyournewrelationshipstatus,I’msure.”Darkhumorglintedinhiseyes.YetanotherchangefromthestoicVolkovI’dmetyearsago.
Wecontinuedthegame,butnowthatStellahadbeenbroughtupagain
,Icouldn’tstopmythoughtsfromstrayingdownpathstheyhadnobusinesstraversing.
Shehadn’tpostedonsocialmediasincethenightofthefundraiser.Sheusuallypostedeveryday.Shehadn’treachedouttomeformorephotosdespitethesuccessofherfirstpost.
Wasshesecond-guessingourarrangement?
Atrickleofsomethingcoldandforeignwasheddownmyspine.Ittookmeseveralbeatstoidentifyit.
Uncertainty.
Somethingasunfamiliartomeasrainstormsweretodeserts.
Wehaveacontract.Shewon’tgobackonherword.
Yettheurgetocheckinwithhergrippedmyattentionandpulleditawayfromthecarvedebonyandivorypiecesscatteredstrategicallyacrosstheboard
“Checkmate.”Alex’scoolvoicedraggedmebacktothelibrary.
Iblinkedawayimagesofgreeneyesandlushlipsandexaminedthefinallayout.
AlexhadexecutedacheckmatepatternIshould’veseenfromamileaway.
“Thatwasquick.”Disappointmentshadowedhisface.“You’reoffyourgametoday.”
“We’rejustgettingstarted,Volkov.”Iclearedtheboard.“Getbacktomeafterthesecondround.”
Buthewasright.Iwas
offmygame,allbecauseI’dbeenbusythinkingaboutsomeonewhohadnobusinessoccupyingmythoughtsthewayshedid.ShethoughtherrentattheMiragewaslow?Thatwasnothingcomparedtohowshelivedrent-freeinmyfuckinghead.
Stellamayappearsweetandgentle,butshewasmoredangeroustomethananyweaponorrival.
***
Afterasecondchess
gamewithAlex,whereIredeemedmyselfwithabeautifullyexecutedcheckmateaftertwohoursofplay,Ireturnedhomeatpreciselyaquartertonine.
Ittookmelessthanoneminutetodeterminethatsomethingwasamiss.
Thedoortomyofficewasopen,andIalways
closeditbeforeleaving.
IgrantedveryfewpeopleaccesstomyapartmentwhenIwasn’there.None
ofthemwouldcomethislateatnight.
Adrenalineburnedthroughthescotch-fueledmurkinessinmyblood.
I’dtakenadvantageofValhalla’sprivatecarservicetoshepherdmehomegivenhowmuchIdrank,butIhadenoughpresenceofmindtosoftenmyfootstepsasIinchedtowardmyoffice.
IglimpseddarkhairthroughtheopeningbeforeIpushedopenthedoor,crossedtheroomintwolongstrides,andpinnedtheintrudertothewallwithmyhandwrappedaroundtheirthroat.
Icyragemistedmyvisionwithred-tingedwhite.
Ididnotappreciatepeopleinvadingmypersonalspace.Touchingmythingswithoutpermission.Breakingintomy
houseandchallengingmyauthority.
Myfingersflexedaroundthesoftcolumnoftheirthroat.
Thevibrationsofafear-lacedgasptrembledagainstmyholdbeforeitspilledintotheair.
“Christian
.”ThefamiliarityofthesoftpleatuggedthehazeawayfrommyeyesuntilallIcouldseewasgreen.
Huge,lushgreeneyes,framedbyinkylashesandacridwithpanic.
Fuck.
Anarcticsplashofrecognitionwrenchedmyhandfromherthroat.
Westaredateachother,ourbreathsraggedinthequietspacebetweenus—hersfromfear,minefromadrenalineandregret.
Atendrilofangerworkeditswayintothemixandstretchedmywordstaut.“Ms.Alonso.Caretoexplainwhat
you’redoinghere?”
Shewasoneofthefewpeopleonearthwhohadakeytomyapartment,butI’dinstructedhertovisitduringspecifictimewindows.Fridaynightwasn’toneofthem.
ShewasluckyIwasn’ttheshootfirst,askquestionslatertypelikesomeofmymen.
AnimageofStellashotpassedthroughmymind,andcoldnessgatheredinthepitofmystomach.
Sheliftedherchin,clearlyunimpressedwithmygreetingandsharptone.“Iwaswateringyourplantslikeyou’d
askedmeto.”Despiteherpointedtone,herbreathsremainedshallow,andtinyshiversworkedtheirwaythroughherbodyuntilmytendrilofangerdissipated.
ItwasonlythenthatInoticedtheshatteredwateringcanonthefloor.Theescapedwaterformedasmall,glisteningpuddleagainstthecustomizedwood,andthecan’sshinyblackceramicpiecesreflectedmyfacebackatme.
Ahundreddifferentfaces,brokenupwithjaggededgesanddistortedfeatures.
IdraggedmyeyesbackuptoStella’s.“You’rewateringmyplantsatnineo’clockatnight?”
“IforgotearlierbecauseIwasbusy.Yousaidonlytocomeinonweekdays,andIdidn’twanttoleavethemallweekend.They’reverysensitiveto—”
“Busydoingwhat?”
Inolongercaredabouttheplants.
“Personalthings.”Insteadofcollapsingbeneaththeweightofmyheavystare,shestraightenedandtiltedherchinanotherinchhigher.“We’renotactuallytogether.You’renotentitledtoknowmyeverymove.”
Annoyancewispedthroughmeatthereminder.
“Iamwhenyourbusynessleadsyoutobreakintomyapartmentatnineo’clockatnight.”
“Ididn’tbreakin.Ihadakey!”
“Usedoutsidetheallottedtimeframes.Agoodlawyercouldarguethecaseinmyfavor.”
Stella’seyesnarrowed.Herbreathshadfinallyevened,andIsuspectedherflushedcheeksweren’tduetoembarrassment.“You’rethesecurityexpert.Ifyou’rethatworried,perhapsyoushouldcreateakeythatcanonly
beusedduringyourspecifiedtimewindows.Thatwouldn’tbedifficultforageniuslikeyou,wouldit,Mr.Harper?”
Iallowedasoftlaughtoslipfree.
Stella’ssasscameandwentlikeflashesoflightning.Everytimeitappeared,itelectrifiedme,becausethatwaswhenIglimpsedtherealher.Theonelyingsemi-dormantbeneathhercarefullycultivatedcalmanddesperatedesiretoplease.Somewherewithinthatcocoonofmildmannerswasabrilliantbutterflyyearningtobreakfree.
“Itwouldn’tbedifficultatall.”Mygazegrewheavy-liddedasIperusedherfromheadtotoe.“ButthenIwouldn’tcomehomeandfindyouwaitingforme.”
Asliveroftonedstomachpeekedoutfromunderhercroppedgraysweatshirtwhilematchingterryclothshortshortsclungtoherhipsandthighs.Anendlessexpanseofsmooth,goldenbrownlegsendedwithbarefeetandred-polishednails.
Mythroatrandry.Iyearnedtorunmyhandsupherbody,tohearhersighwithpleasureasIexploredthesleekcontoursofhercurves.
Shewasdressedforbed,withnotastitchofmakeuponherfaceorjewelryadorningherlimbs,butsheglowedsobrightlyitreachedthedarkestcornersofmysoul.
“Ithoughtyoudidn’twantthat.”Breathlessnervessurfacedinherreply.
“Don’tassumewhatIwant,Ms.Alonso.”Ikeptmyvoiceplacid,almostdisinterested,buttherewasnothingplacidaboutthecurrentcracklingintheair.
Onetouch,andtheroomwouldignite
“Noted.”Stella’sfingerscurledaroundthehemofhershortsuntilherknuckleswhitened.
Myeyesdippedtoherthighs,anddesireflamedhotterinmyveinswhentheyclenchedbeneathmyattention.
Itwasasmallmovement,nothingmorethanasubtletensingofhermuscles,butshemightaswellhavereacheddownandcaressedthehardnessachingatmygroin.
“Youshouldleave,”Isaidsoftly,thewordsroughwithrestraint.
Shedidn’tmove.
“Unless…”IraisedmyhandandskimmeditdownthesideofherneckuntilIreachedthefranticflutterofherpulse.“Youwanttostay.”
Ishouldstoptouchingher,andIshouldkeepmydistance,butIwasmesmerized.
Stella’sswallowwasaudibleinthethick,condensedsilence.
“Idon’t.”Shewaveredthetiniestbitontheworddon’t.
“No?”Igrazedmythumboverherskin.Thesmallpointofcontactsearedthroughfleshandboneuntiltheheatspilledintomyblood.Iliftedmyeyestohersagain,myvoicehardening.“Thenwhyareyoustillhere?”
Distraction.Obsession.Confoundment
Shewasallthosethingsandmore.
Sheshould’vebeenasimplepuzzletobreakapartandpiecebacktogether,butshewasprovingmorecomplicatedthanexpected.Shewaslikeajigsawmissingonepiece.NomatterhowhardIsearched,Icouldn’tfindthemissingpiece,anduntilIdid,she’dcontinuehauntingmythoughts.
Therewas,ofcourse,anotherexplanation,butIdismissedthatonetheseconditsurfaced.
TheonethattoldmeIdidn’twanttosolveStellaAlonso,becauseonceIdid,thethreadconnectinguswouldbesevered.
Andforsomegalling,unknownreason,Ididn’twantittobesevered.
Sheopenedhermouthtorespond,butIreleasedherandsteppedback,cuttingheroffwithoutaword.
“It’stimeforyoutoleave.”Itwasnolongerframedasasuggestionbutanorder.“Don’tletmefindyouinmyapartmentoutsidethepermittedtimesagain,oryou’lldiscovertherearelimitstomygenerosity.”
Indulginghertonightwasamistake.I’dalreadybenttoomanyrulesforher.
Ifithadbeenanyoneelseinmyoffice,Iwould’vepunishedthemforthetransgression,notfantasizeabouthowtheirskinwouldfeelagainstmine.
FiresparkedinStella’seyes.
Iexpectedhertosnapback,anticipateditthewayanalcoholicanticipatedhisnextsipofliquor.Butthefirecooledalmostassoonasitkindled,smotheredbeneathalayerofnewlyformedice
“Understood.”Shereachedintoherpocketandretrievedabrasskey,whichsheforcedintomyhand.“Infact,youwon’tfindmeinyourapartmentagain,period.”
Ididn’trealizehowhardIwasgrippingthekeyuntilthejaggededgedugintomypalm.
Theslamofthefrontdoorreverberatedthroughtheensuingsilence.
Iusuallyenjoyedthesilence.Itwaspeacefulandrestorative,butnowitseemedoppressive,likeaninvisibleweightpressingagainstmychest.
ThekeysankdeeperintomypalmbeforeIuncurledmyhandandshoveditinmypocket.
Isteppedaroundthebrokenwateringcanandstalkedtomyroom,whereIyankedoffmytieandtosseditonthebed.
Itdidn’teasetheexpandingtightnessinmythroat.
Beneaththeice,Stellahadbeenhurt.I’dglimpsedakernelofitbeforeherdefenseskickedin.
AstrangepanghitmychestbeforeImadeanimpatientnoise.
Forfuck’ssake.
I’dhadahellofaday.Notjustwithwork,butwithallthenosyfuckersinmylifewhoswarmedallovermenowthatIwasfinally“dating”someone.Ididn’thavetimetoanalyzemicroexpressions.
Iremovedmycufflinksandmywatch,whichIplacedparalleltoeachotheronthenightstand.
Understood.Infact,youwon’tfindmeinyourapartmentagain,period.
Whatthehelldidthatmean?Ifsherenegedonourrentdeal…
Amuscletickedinmyjaw.
Ishouldn’tcare.Ididn’tevenlike
thedamnplants.Ionlykeptthembecausemyinteriordesignerinsistedthey“pulledtheaesthetictogether,”andIrefusedtoadmitfailurebylettingthemdie.
Butitwastheprincipleofthematter.Icouldn’tsetaprecedentwherepeoplebackedoutofanagreementwithmewithoutconsequences.
ThememoryofthefleetinghurtinStella’seyesresurfacedlikeanannoyinggnatthatwouldn’tgoaway.
“Dammittohell.”
Withanannoyedgrowl,Iabandonedmybetterinstincts,slammedthebedroomdoorbehindme,andmademywaydownstairs.11
STELLA/CHRISTIAN
STELLA
ChristianHarperhadsomenerve.
AngersimmeredinmystomachasIunlockedmyapartmentandopenedthedoorwithmoreforcethannecessary.
Itwasn’tanemotionIfeltoften,anditateawayatmyinsideslikeacid
Ididn’tknowwhyI’dreactedsostronglytoChristian’sdismissal.I’dheardworsefromMeredithandthetrollsinmycommentsections.
Buttherewassomethingaboutthewayhediditthatclawedundermyskin.
Onesecond,Ithoughthewouldkissme.Thenext,hewaskickingmeoutofhisapartment.Themanflippedhotandcoldmoreoftenthanabrokenfaucet.
Worse,there’dbeenamomentwhenI’dwanted
himtokissme.Whenthecuriosityoverhowthatfirm,sensualmouthwouldtastepulsedinrhythmtotheachebetweenmythighs.
Frustrationtwinedwithmyanger.
Ididn’tknowhowhemanagedtopullsomanydormantemotionsoutofme.
Wasithislooks?Hiswealth?Neitherofthosethingshadmatteredtomebefore.I’dmettoomanyrich,good-lookingjerkstobesuckeredinbytheirfalsecharm.
Isetmybagonanearbytableandforcedmylungstoexpandpastthepressure.Confrontationalwayssetmeonedge.EvenwhenIwasn’tinthewrong,Ifelt
likeIwas.
Youwon’tfindmeinyourapartmentagain,period.
Thememoryofmyrashdeclarationerasedanycalmingeffectmydeepbreathsmayhavehad.
I’d“quit”intheheatofthemoment.Butasstupidasthedealwas,Ihad
promisedhimIwouldcareforhisplantsinexchangeforlowerrent.
Whatifheraisedmyrentor,worse,evictedme?Whatifheendedourarrangement?Ihadn’theardfromDelamonteyet,butI’dalreadygainedtenthousandfollowerssinceIpostedthephotoofusonourwaytothefundraiser.
MyaccountwasgrowingforthefirsttimeinayearandendingourarrangementearlywouldkillanymomentumIhad
Nomomentumequalednogrowthequaledlessmoney.
Regretkickedmyheartpalpitationsintooverdrive.
That
waswhyI’dtrainedmyselftosuppressemotionaloutbursts.Theconsequencesalwaysovershadowedthetemporaryrelief.
Iclosedmyeyesandattemptedtoreturntomydeepbreathing.
Itdidn’twork.
Dammit.
Iwastootiredandjitteryforyoga,soIrifledthroughmybagformyphone.Socialmediawasn’tthebestanxiety-reducingtactic,butitwasagreatdistraction.IjusthadtosticktomycarefullycuratedYouTubefeedofcuteanimals,stylingtips,andhairandmakeuptutorials.
AnyotherappwastoomuchofaminefieldtonavigatewhenIwasfeelinglikethis.
Lipgloss,moisturizer,cafereceipt…
Ipausedwhenmyhandbrushedaplainwhiteenvelope.
Ididn’trememberputtingthatinmybag.Ididn’tevenown
mailingenvelopessinceIdideverythingviaemailthesedays.
Ipickeduptheenvelopeandslidafingerundertheflaptoopenit.Itwasunmarked—noaddressee,noreturnaddress,nostamp.
Asheetofequallyplainwhitepaperwasnestledinside.
ForebodingslithereddownmyspinewhenIunfoldedit.Atfirst,Ithoughtitwasblank,butthenmyeyesfocusedonthesinglelineofblacktypeatthetop.
Youweresupposedtowaitforme,Stella.Youdidn’t.
Nodirectthreat,butthemessagewasominousenoughtosendmydinnerrisinginmythroat.
Uglymemoriesfromtwoyearsagoswampedmeinarush.
Candidphotosofmeinthecity—laughingwithfriendsthroughthewindowofarestaurant,scrollingthroughmyphonewhileIwaitedforthemetro,shoppinginaboutiqueinGeorgetown.Lettersthatswungwildlyfromeffusivedeclarationsoflovetographicfantasiesofwhatthesenderwantedtodotome.
Allsenttomypersonalhomeaddress
ThatwentonforweeksuntilIbecamesoparanoidandstressedIcouldn’tshowerunlessJuleswassittingrightoutsideinthelivingroom.Eventhen,I’dbeenplaguedwithnightmaresofmystalkerstormingintomyhouseandhurtingherbeforehecameforme.
Thenoneday,thelettersandphotosjuststopped,likethesenderhaddroppedoffthefaceoftheearth.Ithoughthe’deithertiredofmeorgottenarrested.
Butnow…
Terrorturnedmybloodintoice.
IwasdimlyawarethatIhadn’tmovedsinceIreadthenote.Ishould.
Ishouldcheckthehouseforintrudersandcallthepolice,notthatthey’dbeenanyhelpthelasttimethishappened.
ButIwasparalyzed,frozenwithdisbeliefandthesharp,metallictasteoffear.
It’dbeentwoyearssinceI’dheardfrommystalker.Whywashebacknow?Hadhealwaysbeenthere,watchingandbidinghistime?Orhadheleft,thenreturnedforwhateverreason?
Andifthenotewasinmypurse…
Mybreathsrushedoutfaster.Tinyblackdotsdancedinfrontofmyvisionastheimplicationcrystallized.
Nostampsandaddressmeantthestalkerhadgottencloseenoughtosliptheenvelopeintomybag.He’dbeenrightthere.
He’dprobablytouchedme.
Invisiblespiderscrawledovermyskin.
I’dcleanedoutmybaglastnightandhadn’tseenthenote,soitmust’vehappenedsometimethatday.
MybraincycledthroughthelistofplacesI’dvisitedthatday.
Coffeeshop.TheGeorgetownwaterfronttoshootacampaignwithmytripod.Thegrocerystore.Themetro.Christian’sapartment.
Thelistwasn’tlong,butsaveforChristian’shouse,everyplacehadbeencrowdedforsomeonetoslipthenoteintomybagwithoutmenoticing.
Thesilenceoftheapartmentmorphedintosomethingthickandominous,interruptedonlybymyshallow,gaspingbreaths.
NomatterhowhardItried,Icouldn’tgetenoughoxygenintomylungs,andI—
Theharsh,jarringringofthedoorbellrippedthroughthequietandcausedeveryhaironmyskintostandonend.
Itwasthestalker.Ithadtobe.
Noonewouldvisitthislateatnightwithoutnotice.
Oh,God.
Ineededtohide,call911,dosomething,
butmybodyrefusedtoobeymybrain’scommands.
Thedoorbellrangagain,andmyfightorflightfinallykickedin.
Istumbledtowardthenearesthidingspot—asidetablewedgedbetweenthecouchandtheair-conditioningunit.ThephantombreathofmystalkerbrushedagainstmyneckasIcrawledbeneaththetable.
Icouldfeel
himbehindme,amalevolentpresencewhoseicyfingersclawedatmyshirtandsqueezedtheoxygenfrommylungs.
Thefloortilted,andmyheadcollidedwithoneofthetablelegsasIattemptedtosinkasdeepintothedarknessaspossible.
Thepainwasonlyawhisperofsensationcomparedtothechillsswampingmyskin.
Anotherringofthedoorbell,followedbyknocking.
“Stella!”
Icouldn’tdistinguishwhothevoicebelongedto.Ididn’tevenknowifitwasreal.
Ijustwantedittogoaway.
Ipulledmykneestomychestandwrappedmyarmsaroundthem.TheA/Cwasoff,butIcouldn’tstopshaking.
Iwasn’treadytodie.I’dbarelylived.
Theknockscontinued,growinglouderandmorefrequentuntiltheyfinallystopped.Apauseensued,followedbythesoundofakeyturninginthedoor.
Footstepsechoedagainstthehardwoodfloors,buttheypausedwhenawhimperclawedupmythroat.
Afewsecondslater,apairofblackleatherloafersstoppedinfrontofme
Isqueezedmyeyesshutandscooteddeeperintothecorneruntilmybackhitthewall.
Pleasepleaseplease—
“Stella.”
Ihadataserinmybag.Whyhadn’tIgrabbedmytaser?I’donlyheldontotheletter,whichI’ddroppedontothefloornexttome.ItwasuselessasaweaponunlessIplannedtopapercuttheintrudertodeath.
Stupid,useless,disappointing…
Tearsburnedbehindmyclosedlids.
WouldmyfamilycareifIdied?Theymightbesadatfirst,buteventually,they’dberelievedthatthefamily’sbiggestdisappointmentwasgone.Theyhadn’tevenwantedme.I’dbeenanaccident,adisruptionintheirlong-runningplantoonlyhaveonechild.
IfIdied,theycouldfinallygettheirplanbackontrack.IfI—
Ahandgraspedmychinandtilteditup.
“Stella,lookatme.”
Ididn’twantto.Iwantedtostayinmywellofdenialforever.
IfIcan’tseethemonster,itdoesn’texist.
Butthevoicedidn’tsoundlikeitbelongedtoamonster.Itsoundeddeepandvelvetyandtooauthoritativeformenottoobey.
Islowlyopenedmyeyes.
Whiskey.Fire.Warmth.
Mychillsskitteredawayatthebankedfuryglimmeringbeneaththosedarkpoolsofconcern,butChristian’sfacesoftenedwhenourgazesconnected.
“You’reokay.”
Onlytwowords,buttheycontainedsuchcalmreassurancethatthedaminsidemefinallybroke.
Asobtorefrommythroat,andmoisturespilledpastmyeyesuntilhisfaceblurred.
Iheardalowcursebeforestrongarmsengulfedme,andmyfacepressedagainstsomethinghardandsolid.Immovable,likeamountaininastorm.
IcurledintoChristian’sembraceandletoutweeksofstressandanxietyuntilIrandry.Itwasn’tjustthenote,thoughthathadbeenthetippingpoint.ItwasD.C.Style,
myfamily,Delamonte,mysocialmedia,andthedeep-rootedsensethatnomatterhowhardItried,Iwouldneverliveuptotheexpectationsofthosearoundme.ThatIwouldalwaysbeadisappointment.
Itwasmylife.
Somewherealongtheway,it’dcareenedsooffcourseIcouldn’tevenseethemainpathanymore.
Ifeltlikeatotalfailure.
Christiandidn’tsayawordasIsobbedoutmyfrustrationonhischest.Hejustheldmeuntilmytearsdriedenoughformortificationtoseepintothevoidleftbehindbymyexpelledemotions.
“I’msorry.”Iliftedmyheadandswipedthebackofmyhandagainstmydampcheeks.MymortificationdeepenedwhenIsawthetearblotchesstaininghisexpensive-lookingbutton-down.“I—”Ihiccupped.“Iruinedyourshirt.”
OfallthewaysI’dpicturedthenightending,havingaminimeltdowninChristianHarper’sarmswasn’toneofthem.
Hedidn’tevenglancedown.“It’sashirt.Ihaveplenty.”
Wewerestillonthefloor,andIwould’velaughedatthesightofhimsittingsocasuallyonthehardwoodinhisdesignerclotheshadhiswordsnotcreatedanotherwellofmoisturebehindmyeyes.
Anhourago,I’dthoughthewasthebiggestjerkinexistence.Now…
Iblinkedthefreshtearsaway.I’dembarrassedmyselfenoughalready,thankyouverymuch,andIcouldn’tkeepupwithmyrollercoasterofemotions.
FirstmyargumentwithChristian,thenfindingthenote.
Thenote.
Dreadresurfacedasaslow,insidiouswavethatwashedawaymyshort-livedrelief.Whoeversentthenotewasstilloutthere.Theyhadn’tbeenaphysicalthreatsofar,but…
Myeyesstrayedtowardthedeceptivelyinnocent-lookingletter.
Christianfollowedmygaze.Hisfacehardened,andIdidn’tstophimwhenhepickedupthepaperandreadthetypedmessage.
Whenheliftedhiseyesagain,theircoolambercolorhaddarkenedintoobsidian.
“Whosentthis?”Hiscalm,almostpleasanttonecontrastedwiththedangerflickeringintheair.
Ipulledittightaroundme,takingstrangesolaceinhisquietfury.
“Idon’tknow.Icamehome,lookedthroughmybag,andfoundit.”Iswallowedpastthelumpinmythroat.“I’ve…I’vereceivedsimilarnotesbefore.Butit’sbeenawhilesincethelastone.”
Theflickerofdangerignitedintoaflame.Theintensityofitsoakedeverymoleculeofair,butinsteadofunnervingme,itmademefeelsafe,likeitwasatitaniumwallshieldingmefromtheoutsideworld.
I’dnevertoldanyoneexceptJulesaboutmystalkerbefore.Iwanted
totellChristian,ifonlybecausehewasthesecurityexpertandwouldhaveideasabouthowtotrackthecreepdown.ButIwascrashingnowthattheadrenalinefromfindingthenotehadwornoff.
Exhaustiontuggedatmyeyes,andeverytimeIopenedmymouthtoexplainthesituation,ayawnescapedinstead.
Christianmust’veknownIlackedtheenergyforanythingexceptsleepbecausehedidn’taskfordetails.Instead,hestoodandheldouthishand.
Afterabriefhesitation,Iscootedoutfromunderthetableandtookit.
Dizzinessovertookmeashepulledmetomyfeet,butwhenitpassed,Ialmostdidadoubletakeathownormal
myapartmentlooked.
Samearomatherapycandlesittingonthecoffeetable.Samecashmereblanketdrapedoverthebackofthearmchair.Notraceofthewildpanicthat’dcycledthroughmelessthanthirtyminutesago.
Wealwaysexpectedourexternalworldtoreflectourinternalone,butitwassituationslikethesethatremindedmetheworldwouldgoonnomatterwhathappenedtousindividually.
Itwasequalpartsreassuringanddepressing.
IsankontothecouchwhileChristiandidaquicksecuritysweepoftheapartment.Mylegscouldn’tholdmyweightanymore,andI’dalmostfallenasleepagainstthedeepcreamcushionswhenhereturnedtothelivingroom.
“Youcan’tstayhere.Theapartment’ssecure,”headdedwhenIstraightenedwithalarm.“Butthepersonwhowrotethenoteisstilloutthereandprobablyknowswhereyoulive.Youhavetomove.”
Anxietytightenedmystomach.“Towhere?Thisismyhome.”
“It’snotsafe.”
“IthoughttheMiragehadthebestbuildingsecurityinthecity.”
Christian’sonlyresponsewasatighteningofhisjaw.
Itookadeepbreath.Myfogofterrorhadclearedenoughforrationalthinkingtosinkinagain.
“Whoevertheculpritis,theygottomeoutsidethebuilding.There’snowhereIcanmovethatwouldbesaferthanhere.Besides…”Myfingerscurledtightaroundtheedgeofthecouch.“I’mnotlettingsomecowardwhohidesbehindanonymouslettersdrivemeoutofmyownhome.”
I’dspenttoomanyyearsinthepassengerseatofmylife,lettingotherpeoplesteermetowheretheywantedmetogo.Livinginfearoftheircommentaryaboutmyactionsandmakingmyselfsmalltofitintowhateverboxtheyputmein.Myparents’expectations,myboss’sdemands,mystalker’snotes,whichleftmesoparanoidIjumpedateveryslamofadoorandsnapofatwig.
Theyacted,Ireacted.
Iwassickofit.Itwastimetowrestlebackcontrol,andlearninghowtosayno
wasthefirststep.
“I’mnotmoving,”Irepeated.
Ifthestalkerhadbrokenintomyapartment,itwould’vebeenadifferentmatter,buthehadn’t.Besides,Iwasright.TherewasnowhereIcouldmovethatwouldbesaferthantheMirage.
Christianstaredatme,hisexpressioncarvedofgranite.
Iforcedmyselfnottolookawayevenasmybodyfoughtagainsttheweightofhisgaze.
He’dseenmevulnerable,butIrefusedtolethimseemeweak.
Mybreathpressedtightagainstmylungs,anditwasn’tuntilChristiandippedhisheadinacquiescencethatIreleasedit.
Reliefandakernelofpriderushedtofillthevoid.
Hehadn’tsaidaword,butIhadtheunshakeablesensethatI’djustfacedoffagainstalionandwon.
“Fine,butyou’renotstayingherewithoutextraprotection.”
Icouldlivewiththat.Iwelcomedit,even,aslongastheextraprotectionwasn’ttoointrusive.
Forasecond,IthoughtChristianwouldoffertostaythenightwithme,andIhatedhowmyheartskippedabeatatthethought.
“Kage,Ineedyouforanassignment…yes.Overnight.”Severalbeatspassedbeforehespokeagain,hisvoicehard.“Idon’tgiveafuckifyou’rediningwiththePopeorhavingsexwithMargotfuckingRobbie.IwantyouonthetenthflooroftheMirageintwentyminutes.”
DisappointmentcurledthroughmebeforeIcrushedit.Ofcourse
Christianwouldn’tstaywithme.HewastheCEO.Thattypeofworkwasprobablybeneathhim.
Hehungup,andsomethingniggledatthebackofmymindinthesilencethatfollowed.
“Whydidyoucometoseeme?Beforeyou…”Foundmeinthemiddleofapanicattack.
“Beforeyourealizedwhathappened.”
Christianslippedhisphoneintohispocket.“Iwantedtocleartheairafterourexchange.”
Itwasasmooth,neutralreply.Almosttoo
smooth.
“Why?”
“DoIneedareason?”
“Youhaveareasonforeverything,oryouwouldn’tdoit.”
Thecornerofhismouthlifted,buthedidn’telaborateonhisearlieranswer.
He’dsaidtwentyminutes,butsomeoneknockedonthedoorlessthantenminuteslater.
Thatsomeone
turnedouttobeamountainofaman,allmusclesandtattoosandgood-lookinginawaythatmustbeirresistibletowomenwithaweaknessforbadboys.
Kage,Iassumed.
Christianbriefedhimonthesituation,buttheyweresoquietIcouldn’tmakeoutwhattheysaid.Whateveritwas,itbroughtafrowntoKage’sfacethatsoftenedwhenhefinallyturnedtome.
“Don’tworry,darlin’.”HissoftSouthernaccenteasedtheknotsinmyshoulderslikemagic.Nexttohim,Christian’sjawflexed,butithappenedsoquicklyImight’veimaginedit.“I’llberightherethewholenight.Noone’sgettin’pastme.Theydidn’tcallmeTheMountaininthemilitaryfornothin’.”
Imusteredasmallsmile.“HereIthoughtitwasbecauseyou’reasbigasamountain.”
ThecornersofKage’seyescrinkled.“That,too.”
“Kageisoneofmybest.Likehesaid,noonewillgetpasthim.”Christian’sfaceremainedimpassive,butwhenherestedhisgazeonKage,theotherman’ssmiledisappeared.
KagesteppedbackfrommelikeI’dsuddenlycaughtfire.
Iyawnedagain,tootiredtothinkmuchoftheirstrangeinteraction.
Sleeptuggedattheedgesofmyconsciousness,andIdidn’tresistwhenChristianliftedmefromthecouchwithfirmbutsurprisinglygentlehands.
“Don’tpassoutonthecouch.Mr.Unicorndoesn’tliketosharesleepingspace.”
“Funny.Ifthesecuritythingdoesn’tworkout,youshouldbea…”Anotheryawnsplitmyfaceaswewalkedtowardmybedroom.“Acomedian.”
“I’llkeepthatinmind.”Christian’sdryresponseoverpoweredKage’schucklefrombehindus.
Whenwereachedmyroom,IfellintobedmorethanIclimbedintoit.Iwasaleadweight,andgravitywasananchordraggingmetowardmymattress.
“Goodnight,”Imumbled.Myeyeswerealreadyclosed,butIfeltChristian’spresenceintheroomlikeawarmsecurityblanket.“Andthankyou.For….”
Ineverfinishedmysentence.
ThelastthingIrememberedwasawarmhandsmoothingmyhairoutofmyfacebeforedarknesspulledmeunder.
***
CHRISTIAN
AfterStellafellasleep,IreturnedtothelivingroomtofindKageexaminingthenote.
“Whoeverputthisinherbagknewhowtocovertheirtracks,”hesaid.“It’sgenericashell.Thepaper,thetype,theink…unlesshewascarelessenoughtoleavefingerprintsonit,there’snowayoftrackinghimdownwiththisalone.”
HeechoedeverythingI’dalreadydeduced.
Ifit’dbeenadigitalmessage,Icould’vehuntedthesenderdowninnotime.Physicalevidencewasmuchhardertotrace.
Whoeversentthenotewassmart,butthey’dslipupeventually.Everyonedid.
MyhandflexedasthememoryofStella’swide-eyedterrorsurfaced.Furycrackledthroughme,itscoldburnsearingmefromtheinsideout.
I’dtampeditdownearliersoIcouldfocusonStella,butnow,itcamerushingbacklikeatidalwave.
Iwasgoingtofindthefuckerwhowroteherthatnote.
AndIwasgoingtomakethempay.
Notwithabullet—thatwastoogoodforthem.Theydeservedsomethingmorepainful.Moreprolonged.
Butuntilthen,IneededtokeepStellasafe.
“IwantyouandBrockshadowingheruntilwefindthisfucker,”ItoldKage.“Don’tletherseeyou.”
AfterKage,Brockwasoneofmybestguards,andhe’drecentlyreturnedfromathree-monthjobinTokyo.
SkepticismcrossedKage’sface.“She’sgonnabeokaywiththat?”
“Shewon’tfindout.”
IfIaskedStella,she’dsayno.She’dalreadypushedbackonmoving;Iwasn’tgivingheranotherchancetocompromisehersafety.TheonlyreasonI’dacquiescedonthemovingissuewasbecauseshewastraumatizedenoughwithoutmearguingwithherrightafterherpanicattack.
Wherewouldshehavemovedto,anyway?Likeshesaid,theMirageisthemostsecurebuildinginthecity,
avoiceinmyheadtaunted.
Therewasanobviousanswer,butsinceshewasn’tmoving,thepointwasmoot.
“Fine.You’retheboss.”KageglancedatthecloseddoortoStella’sbedroom.“Surprisedyou’renotstayingwithher.She’syourgirlfriend,andyouliverightupstairs.”
Myjawtightened.
Iwastempted.Sofuckingtempted.
Thatwastheproblem.
Ididn’ttrustmyselfaroundStella.I’dalreadybrokentoomanyrulesforher,andstayingwithherovernightwouldcrosstheinvisiblelineI’ddrawnformyself.
Itwasalwaysadanceforme,stayingcloseenoughtosatethebeastinsidemeandstayingfarenoughsoIwasneveroutofcontrol.Aconstantwarbetweenwantandpreservation.
However,I’dcomedownto…notapologize,necessarily,sinceIdidn’tdoapologies…buttosetthingsrightbetweenus.
Whenshedidn’tanswer,Ithoughtshewasintheshower,butthelongerIwaitedwithnoresponse,themoremymindconjuredallsortsofscenarios—ofStellainjuringherself,ofanintruderwhosomehowmadeitpasttheMirage’sairtightsecurityandintoherhouse.
I’dneverfeltthesortofpanicthat’dconsumedmewhenIthoughtsomethinghadhappenedtoher,andthatwasnotfuckingokay.
Shewasalreadyaweakspotforme;Icouldn’taffordforthatspottogrow.
“Iseparatemybusinessandpersonallives.Thisisbusiness.”IrespondedtoKageinaclippedtone.Mystareburnedtheairbetweenus.“Touchherforanyreasonotherthantosaveherlife,andyoudie.”
Ididn’tcarehowlongKageandIhadbeenfriends.
Noonetouchedherexceptme.
Hisfacetwistedintoascowl.“Givememorecreditthanthat.”
Hehadn’tbeenhappywhenI’dpulledhimawayfromthewomanhe’dbroughthome,butheshowedupasIknewhewould.Ididn’ttrustanyoneelsetolookafterStellatonight,notevenmyself.
“Textmeupdateseveryhour.Idon’tcareifit’sfourinthegoddamnmorning.Iwantthosecheck-ins.”
ThatwasasclosetostayingwithherasIwouldallowmyself.
Kagesighed.“Yougotit.”
IcastonelastglanceatStella’sbedroomdoor.
Everycellinmybodyscreamedformenottoleave.Idespised
theideathatKagewaswatchingherinsteadofme.
Whenhe’dcalledherdarlin’
andshe’dsmiledathim,I’dcomeclosetolosingmybestemployeeatmyownhands.
Inararemomentofweakness,I’dusedourfakedatingarrangementtogetclosertoher,butapartofmehadsecretlyhopeditwouldshatterthemysteryandendmyfixationwithher.
Instead,itwasdoingtheopposite.ThemoretimeIspentwithStella,themoreIwantedtobearoundher.ToletherintoplacesI’dnevershownanyone
Itwasunacceptable.
IbrushedpastKage,tooktheelevatoruptomypenthouse,andwentstraighttothebar.
ThelightsofD.C.glitteredlikeacarpetofstarsoutsidethefloor-to-ceilingwindows,butIcouldn’tappreciatethesight.Iwastoowoundup.
IfanythinghadhappenedtoStella…
Icespreadthroughmyveins.
Ifilledmyglasswithaheavierthanusualpour.
Sat.
AndwaitedforthefirsttextfromKage.12
STELLA
Therewas
somethingaboutthemorningafterthatalwaysmadethepreviousnight’seventsseemsurreal.
Lessthantwelvehoursago,I’dbeencurledupbeneathatableinmylivingroom,convincedIwaslivingmylastmomentsonearth.
Now,Iwasdrinkingmydailywheatgrasssmoothieandeatingtoastinthekitchenlikeitwasanormalday.
Ifithadn’tbeenforKage’spresence,Iwould’vethoughtlastnighthadbeenadream.Orrather,anightmare.
“Areyousureyoudon’twantanyfood?”ApangofguilthitmychestwhenInoticedthepurplesmudgesshadowinghiseyes.Hemust’vestayedawakeallnight,andhehadn’tknownhewouldgetcalledtoanovernightshift.Whenwasthelasttimehe’dslept?
“Yeah,Igottaleavesoon,anyway.Christiangavemetheall-clearwhenItoldhimyouwereup.”Kageeyedmewithafrown.“Yougonnabealright?”
“Yep.I’llbefine.”Iinjectedextrapepintomyvoice.IfIacted
likeeverythingwasokay,it’dbeokay.
Besides,intheglaringlightofday,mypaniclastnightseemeddisproportionatetothesituation.
Itwasjustanote.
Ilivedinahighlysecurebuilding,IwassurroundedbypeoplewhenIwentout,andChristianwasgoingtorunforensicanalysisontheletter.Hewasthebestatwhathedid;he’dfindtheculpritinnotime.Iwassureofit.
Kagedidn’tseemfullyconvincedbymyresponse,buthedidn’targue.
Afterheleft,IwentthroughthemotionsofmymorningroutineasbestasIcould.Forty-fiveminutesofyoga,followedbyfifteenminutesofmeditation,journaling,andmanyhoursofagonizingoverwhattosaytoChristian,ifIsaidanythingatall.
Ishouldthankhimforwhathedidlastnight,buteverytimeIpulledoutmyphone,self-doubtparalyzedme.
I
thoughthimstayingwithmeandaskingKagetolookaftermewasabigdeal,butwhatifhedidn’t?He’dworkedinsecurityforyears.Hisclientsincludedbillionairesandroyalty,forPete’ssake.What’dhappenedtomeprobablywasn’tevenabliponhisradar.
Plus,hehadn’treachedoutallday.Notextsorcalls,notthatIshould’veexpectedanythingelse.Obviously,Christianhadmoreimportantthingstodothanbabysitme.Heranamultimillion-dollarcompany,andweweren’tevenreallydating.He’dalreadygoneaboveandbeyondbyaskingKagetostaywithmeovernight.
Ididn’twanttoembarrassmyselfbymakinglastnightabiggerdealthanitwas,soIkeptmymouthshutandbusiedmyselfpreparingforaninfluencereventwithanup-and-comingfashiondesignerthatafternoon.
I’dbeentemptedtoskiptheevent,butIneededsomethingtotakemymindoffthenoteanditsimplications.
Youweresupposedtowaitforme,Stella.Youdidn’t.
AshiverrolleddownmyspineasIlockedmyapartmentdoorbehindme.Ihadn’tdrunkcoffeeinyears,butIwassojumpyImightaswellhavedownedfiveshotsofespresso.
It’sfine.You’llbeinpublic.Everythingwillbejustfine.
***
TheeventturnedouttobemorefunthanI’dexpected.ItwasanearlylookatthedesignerLilahAmiri’snewcollection,andtheclotheswereincredible.
Theperfectmixofeleganceandsexiness.Lilahherselfseemedgenuinelyfriendly,whichwasrareinthefashionworld.We’devenexchangedcontactinformationsowecouldmeetupforcoffeesometime.
Aftersheexcusedherselftotalktoherpublicist,Istoppedinfrontofastunning,semi-sheerblackgownthatshimmeredwithsubtlegoldenthreads.Theskirtdrapedtothefloorinalavishsweep,andthewayitshonebeneaththelightsmadeitlooklikeitwaswovenfromthestarsthemselves.
Thegownwasastudyinquality,bothfromthedesignandcraftsmanshipperspectives.
Myminddriftedtowardthestackofunfinishedfashionsketchesburiedinthebackofmydrawer.GuiltpiercedmygutasItriedtorememberthelasttimeI’dsketched.
Wasittwo,maybethreeyearsago?
I’dalwayswantedtostartmyownfashionbrand.ThatwasoneofthereasonsIstartedbloggingandtookthejobatD.C.Style.
I’dwantedtoestablishanameintheindustryandmaketherightconnectionsfirst.
Butsomewherealongtheway,I’dgottensocaughtupinthedaily“emergencies”,brandpartnerships,andfollowercountsthatI’dlostsightofmyendgoal.
Myguiltthickened.
ItoldmyselfIdidn’thavethemoneytostartmyownbrandanyway,butthetruthwas,Ihadn’treallytriedtomakesomethingwork.
Buzzingfrommyphonepulledmeoutofmythoughts.
Natalia.
Dreadsnuffedouteveryotheremotionfasterthanacandleinarainstorm.
Ishouldn’tfeelthatwayaboutcallsfrommysister,buttheywerealmostasstressfulasthecallsIusedtoreceivefromMeredith.
Ieasedadeepbreathintomylungs.
Cool,calm,collected.
“Hi,Nat.”Idippedmyheadandwalkedtoaquietcornerneartheexit.
“Hi.There’sbeenachangeindinnerplans,”Nataliasaid,crispandno-nonsenseasusual.“Dadhastoleaveforalast-minuteworktriptomorrow,sodinner’sbeenmovedtotonight.Canyoubethereatseven?”
Myheartbeatwavered.“Tonight
?”Icheckedtheclock.Itwasjustshyoffive.“Nat,that’sintwohours!I’mataneventrightnow.”
Itwasendingsoon,anditwouldn’ttakemelongtoreachmyparents’houseinsuburbanVirginia,butIwasn’tready.
IthoughtIhadaweeklefttomentallyprepareforourmonthlyfamilydinner.
SweatmistedmyskinatthethoughtofwalkingintoanAlonsodinnerunprepared.
“WhileI’msureyourinfluencercommitmentsarelifeanddeath”—sarcasmweightedNatalia’swords—“we’reall
busy.Dadisliterallygoingtonegotiateapeacedeal.Canyoumakeittonight,orshouldItellthemyou’rebusy?”
ShouldItellthemyou’redisappointingthemonceagain?
NataliaandIweren’tclose,butIcouldstillreadthesubtextbehindherwords.
“No.”IgrippedmyphonesotightlyIheardasmallcrack.“I’llbethere.”
“Good.Theyalsowantyoutobringyourboyfriend.”
Mystomachflipped.“What?”
“Yourboyfriend,”Nataliasaidslowly.“Theoneyou’vebeenpostingpicturesofonInstagram?MomandDadwanttomeethim.”
Overmydeadbody.
TherewasnowayinhellI’dbringChristiantosomethingasintimateasafamilydinner.Thatwouldblurthelinesofourarrangementtoomuch.
“Hecan’tmakeit.Hehasanimportantbusinessdinnertonight.”
Iwasbecomingalarminglygoodatlying.
Firsttomyfollowers,andnowtomyfamily.
ThedrinkI’ddownedearliersloshedinmystomach,makingmelightheaded.
“Fine,”Nataliasaidflatly.“Justyou,then.Don’tbelate.”Shehungup.
“Itwaslovelychattingtoyoutoo,”Imuttered.
Ituckedmyphoneintomypurseandwhiskedanothercocktailoffapassingserver’stray.
Iwasstillabitqueasy,butifIwasgoingtofacemyfamilytonight,IneededalltheliquidcourageIcouldget.
***
Asexpected,
myparentsweren’tthrilledwhenIshowedupwithoutChristian.Theywereusedtogettingtheirway,andwhentheydidn’t,itwasn’tpleasantforanyoneinvolved.
“It’sashameyourboyfriendcouldn’tmakeit.”Momspoonedadelicateheapofcreamedcornontoherplate.“Iexpectedhimtomakemoreofanefforttomeetus.Especially
consideringwedidn’tknowheexisteduntilNataliatoldus.”Disapprovalfrostedherwords.
Neitherofmyparentswereactiveonsocialmedia,soitdidn’tsurprisemetheyreliedonNataliatoreportmycomingsandgoings.
Itookagulpofwater,butitdidnothingtoeasemyparchedthroatorracingnerves.“Hecouldn’tcancelhisdinner,andIdidn’twanttosayanythingaboutourrelationshipuntilitwasserious.”
“Is
itserious?”Myfatherraisedhiseyebrows.
Standingatamuscledsixfootthree,JarvisAlonsowasintimidatingbothinstatureandpresence.He’dplayedfootballatYale,graduatedtopofhisclass,andheldvariouspositionsintheprivateandpublicsectorsbeforeascendingtohiscurrentroleasChiefofStafftotheSecretaryofState.
Meanwhile,mymomwasoneofthetopenvironmentallawyersinthecityandanotorioussharkinthecourtroom.
Together,theyranthehouseholdliketheyrantheiroffices—withironfists.
“Imean,we’renotgettingmarriedanytimesoon,”Isaidlightly,evadingthequestion.
“Youcalledhimmyloveinyourcaption.”Nataliasmoothedamanicuredhandoverherhair.“Thatsoundsserioustome.Howlonghaveyoubeendatingagain?”
Iglaredather,andsheblinkedbackwithinnocence.
“Threemonths.”ChristianandIagreedthatwasadecenttimeframeforour“relationship.”Itwaslongenoughforpeopletothinkwewereseriousbutshortenoughthatitwouldn’traisetoomanyquestionsaboutwhywehadn’ttoldanyoneweweredatinguntilaweekago.
“He’scomingtoournextdinner.”Mymomslippedintoherlawyervoice.Itwasavoicenoonedisobeyed,includingmyfather.“Onemonthshouldbeadequatenoticeforhimtoclearhisschedule.”
Ikeptmytoneeven.“Yes,ofcourse.”
Absolutelynot.
I’llcomeupwithanotherexcuseclosertothedate.Fornow,itwaseasiertoappeasemyparentsthantoargue.
“Excellent.Nowthatthat’soutoftheway,let’sgoaroundthetableandshareouraccomplishmentsforthepastmonth.”Mymomstraightened.I’dinheritedherheightandgreeneyesbutnotherpassionforalegalcareer,muchtoherdisappointment.“I’llstart.IwonthecaseagainstAricoOil…”
Ipushedmyfoodaroundmyplateasmyparentsandsistersharedtheirlatestprofessionaltriumphs.Thiswaseveryone’sfavoritepartofdinnerexceptmine.Itgavethemachancetobragandgavemeaseverecaseofstomachcramps.
Aftermydadfinishedtellingusaboutthemulti-countrytourhe’dorganized,itwasmysister’sturn.
“Asyouknow,Iwasupforapromotionatwork.Ihadsomestrong
competitionbut…”Natalialookedaroundthetable,herfaceglowingwithexcitement.“Igotit!Igotthepromotion!You’relookingattheWorldBank’snewestvicepresident.”
Shebeamedwhilemyparentseruptedintocongratulatorycheersandmystomachdroppedlikeananchortotheoceanfloor.
“Congrats,Nat.”Iswallowedthelumpinmythroatandforcedasmile.“That’samazing.”
Iwashappyforher,truly.
Butasalways,theweightofmyinadequacieserodedanyjoyImight’vegleanedfrommyfamily’saccomplishments.
Mymomwassavingtheenvironment,mydadwasnegotiatingworldpeace,andmysisterwasontracktobecometheyoungestpresidentinWorldBankhistory.
WhatwasIdoing?
PinningmyhopesonacampaignImightnotget,pretendingtodateamanIwasn’tsureIevenliked,andlyingtooverninehundredthousandpeopleaboutmyrelationshipstatus.
Whilemyfamilywassippingdaiquirisonlife’sluxurycruiseliner,Iwasbarelykeepingmyheadabovewater.
AfterthehubbuboverNatalia’spromotiondieddown,alleyesturnedtome
“Stella,”myfatherprompted.“Whatdidyouaccomplishthismonth?”
IgotfiredbecauseIdidn’tcheckmyphoneforafewhoursonaSaturdaynight.Butonthebrightside,IgainedtenthousandfollowersafterIpostedapictureofmeandthemanI’mdatingasapublicitystunt.
“Well.”Iclearedmythroatandscrambledforsomethingsafetoshare.“Myblogwasfeaturedasoneofthetop—”
Theringofmyfather’sphoneinterruptedme.
“Excuseme.”Hehelduponefinger.“Ihavetotakethis.”Hestoodandwalkedtowardthelivingroom.“Hello,sir?Yes,thisisagoodtime…”
IglancedatmymotherandNatalia,whowerebusydiscussinghowtocelebrateNatalia’spromotion.
Imightaswellbeinvisible.
ReliefbloomedinmystomachasIstabbedacherrytomatoandbroughtittomymouth.
AtleastIdidn’thavetomakeupsomestupidaccomplishmenttosatisfymyparents.Foronce,theirlackofinterestinmycareerwasablessing,notacurse.
Imadeitallthewaytodessertwithouthavingtoanswerasinglequestionwhenmyphonelitwithanewtext.
Christian:How’sdinner?
Aquickflutterdisturbedmychest.
Me:HowdidyouknowIwasatdinner?
Christian:It’sdinnertime.Callmepsychic.
Asmallsmilecurvedmymouth.
Smartass.
Me:Thefoodisgreat.Thecompanycouldbebetter.
Me:Howwasyourday?
Wetextedbackandforthforawhileaboutmyeventandhisdayattheoffice(boring,accordingtohim).Itwasourfirstconversationsincelastnightandsurprisinglynormal.
Neitherofusbroughtupthenoteuntildessertwasfinished.
Christian:Ihavesomeupdatesregardinglastnight.
Christian:Whenwillyoubehome?
Icouldpracticallyheartheshiftintoneovertext.
MystomachpinchedwithnervesasItypedoutmyreply.
Stella:Inthenexthourorso.
Thetrainsranlessoftenthistimeofnight.
Christian:GivemeyouraddressandI’llsendacar.Untilwefindthepersonwhosentthenote,youshouldn’tbetakingthemetrobyyourselfthislateatnight.
Astrangewarmthglidedthroughmyveins.
Normally,Iwould’veturnedhimdown,butIdidn’t
wanttotakethemetroaloneagain.Thestationclosesttomyfamily’shousewasalwayscreepilyemptyafterrushhour,andtakinganUberwouldbetooexpensive.
Isenthimtheaddressasrequested.
Christian:Thecarwillbethereintwentyminutes.
Christian:I’llseeyousoon.
Anotherflutterdisruptedmyheartbeat.
Thesimplepromiseinhislasttextshouldn’texcitemesomuch…but,forreasonsunknowntomyself,itdid.13
CHRISTIAN
I’dslept
atotalofthreehourslastnight.TheanticipationofKage’shourlytextsmadeanythingmoreimpossible,andI’dcrashedthatmorningafterheconfirmedStellagotthroughthenightokay.
Ilivedbymysystems.Sevenhoursofsleepanight,eveningworkoutsthreetimesaweekinmyprivategym,andcomplexworkandimportantmeetingsinthemorningwhenIwassharpest,followedbydullertasksintheafternoon.
MydisciplinehadcatapultedmetowhereIwastoday—CEOofaFortune500companywithavastintelligencenetworkandadirectlinetoalmosteverymajorpowerplayerintheworld.
Inthespanoftwenty-fourhours,Stellahadthrownthosesystemsintocompletedisarray.
I’dsleptuntilnoon,rescheduledmymeetingsforafterlunch,andskippedmyworkoutsoIcoulddoamorethoroughscanofherapartmentforsecretcamerasorsurveillancedevicesbeforeshereturnedhome.
Mydisruptedscheduleshould’vepissedmeoff,buttherushinmybloodwhenherfrontdooropenedfeltalotlesslikeangerandalotmorelikeanticipation.
Despitemyvowtostayawayfromher,herabsenceprovedmoreofadistractionthanherpresence.I’dspentalldayhoundingBrockforupdatesuntilIcavedandtextedhermyself.
IleanedagainstthewallasStellasteppedinside,herheadbentoverherphone.
“Securitytipnumberone:don’tlookdownatyourphoneuntilyou’reinasecurelocation.”
Shejumpedandscreameduntilshesawme.
“Christian!”Sheplacedahandoverherchest,herfacetwoshadespalerthanusual.“Whatareyoudoing
here?”
“Scanningyourapartmentforhiddencameras.Therearenone,”Iaddedwhenshepaledfurther.
“Youcan’tentermyapartmentwithoutnotice!That’saninvasionofprivacy.”
“Privacydoesn’texistwhenitcomestosecurity.”Everyonewantedprivacyuntiltheywereintrouble.Thentheygaveupkeysandpasswordsliketheywerenothing.
I’dmerelyskippedtheinevitablebackandforthwithStellaaboutaccessandjumpedstraighttotheprotectionpart.
“Soundslikesomethingatyrantwouldsay.”
“I’mgladyouunderstand.”
Herglarelittheairbetweenuswithaggravation.“Christian,letmeputitinplainterms.Itisillegal
foryoutoenterprivatehomeswithoutpriorpermission,evenifyouownthebuilding.”
Hmm.Isupposeitwas.
ToobadIgavezerofucksaboutthelaw.
Legalitydidnotmeanright,andillegalitydidnotmeanwrong.Oneonlyhadtolookatthefucked-upjusticesystemtorealizethelawwasnothingmorethanahouseofcards,createdtogiveitscitizensafalsesenseofsecurityandweakenedbydoorwaysopenonlytoaselectfew.
Ihadtokeepuptheappearanceofacivil,law-abidingcitizen,butasanyoneknew,appearancescanbedeceiving.
Andsometimes,wehadtotakejusticeintoourownhands.
“Doyouknowhow…”Stella’sknucklesturnedwhitearoundherphone.“DoyouknowhowmanynightmaresI’vehadofcominghometofindanintruderinmyhouse?OfbeingattackedwhileI’mintheshowerorsleeping?Ourhomesaresupposedtobeoursafehavens,butI…”Thetinycrackofhervoicecausedastrangetwistinmychest.“HowcanIfeelsafeknowingsomeonecouldwalkinhereanyminuteandIwouldn’t…Iwouldn’t…”
Herwordsgavewaytoshallow,pantingbreaths.Icouldseetheanxietybloominginhereyesuntiltheblackofherpupilsswallowedthegreenofheririses.
Fuck.
I’dknownshemightgetupset,butIalsofiguredshe’dwantsomeonelookingoutforher.Takethereinsandhandlehersecuritysoshedidn’thavetoworryaboutit.Iwanted—no,needed
—towatchoverher.
Itwasararemiscalculationonmypart.
Irubbedathumboverthefaceofmywatch,strangelyrestlessfrombothmyerrorandStella’spalpabledistress.Figuringheroutwasaconstantchallenge.
AtightsensationunfurledinmychestuntilIhadtopushmyselfoffthewallandwalktowardhertoeaseitsgrip.
“Youare
safe.Iwon’tletanythinghappentoyou.”Iplacedmyhandsonhershoulders,steadyingher.“Stella.Itwon’thappenagain.Nowbreatheforme.”
Isoftenedtheedgeofmyvoicefromacommandtoarequest.
Theairwasthickwithrecrimination,andsomethingsharpandforeignpiercedmygutatthetinyshiverswrackingherbody.
Whatwasit?Guilt?Remorse?Regret?
Icouldn’ttell,soIfocusedonStellainstead.
“That’sit,”Imurmuredwhenherbreathingfinallyevenedoutandcolorreturnedtoherface.“Justlikethat.”
Sheclosedhereyesandexhaledonelastdeepbreathbeforeshesteppedback.Achillsetinatthelossofwarmth
“Iknowyou’retryingtohelp,andIappreciateit,”shesaid.“Butyouhavetoletmeknowwhat’shappening.Thisismy
life.”
AbriefpausebeforeIanswered.“Iunderstand.”
“Thankyou.”
Justlikethat,thetensionintheairdissolved.
Stella’sabilitytoreleaseagrudgeasquicklyasshepickeditupwasasbafflingasitwasimpressive.
Ineverforgotaslight.Ever.
“Yousaidyouhadupdatesforme.Didyoufindwhosentthenote?”Herhopefulvoicesentapangthroughmychest.
“Notyet.”Myjawflexed.Theforensicanalysishadturnedupnothing.“Butwe’llfindhim.Don’tworry.”
ItiltedmyheadtowardthecouchandwaiteduntilStellawasseatedbeforeIgotdowntobusiness.“Yousaidlastnightwasn’tthefirsttimeyou’vereceivedsuchanote.Tellmewhathappenedbefore.”
Inordertotracktheassholedown,Ineededasmuchintelaspossible.Informationwasgold,andrightnow,Iwasgraspingatstraws.
“Don’tleaveanythingout,”Iadded.“Eventhesmallestdetailscanbeimportant.”
Stellatwistedhernecklacearoundherfinger,herexpressiondistracted.Severalbeatspassedbeforeshefinallyspoke.
“Itstartedtwoyearsago,”shesaidinalowvoice.“Icamehomeonedayandfoundthefirstletterinmymailbox.ItwasmostlyabouthowbeautifultheythoughtIwasandhowthey’dliketotakemeonadate.IwasfreakedoutthattheyknewwhereIlived,butthecontentwasn’tparticularlyalarming.Itsoundedlikesomethingahighschoolerwouldwritetohissecretcrush.Buttheletterskeptcoming,andhestartedincludingcandidpicturesofmealongwiththem.ThatwaswhenIreallyfreakedout.Iinstalledanewsecuritysystemandboughtataser,butIstilldidn’tfeellikeitwasenough.EverytimeIleftorenteredmyhouse,I…”
Asmallbobdisruptedthedelicatelinesofherthroat.“IwaslivingwithJulesatthetime,whichhelpedabit.ButIwasalsoworriedabouthergettingcaughtinthecrossfireifanythinghappened.Itoldheraboutthenotesandsheinsistedwegotothepolice,buttheyweredismissiveofthewholething.TheybasicallytoldmetostoppostingsomuchaboutmylifeandwhereaboutsonsocialmediaifIdidn’twantcreepsreachingouttome.”
Hervoicegrewsmallerwitheachword,asdidherpostureuntilshewascurledupinasittingfetalposition.
Ididn’thavetobeamindreadertoreadthesubtext.
Apartofherthoughtthosebastardshadapoint.
“Didthey?”Mysoftresponsebeliedthecoldburnofangerinvadingmyveins.
ItwastimeIpaidtheChiefSuperintendentacall.
“Thestalkerstoppedsoonafter,soIguessitdoesn’tmatter.”Stellatwistedhernecklacetighteraroundherfinger.
“Itdoesmatter.Thepolicehadajob,andtheydidn’tdoit.”Mymusclestightenedattheuncertaintyinhereyes.“Whattheysaidwasbullshit.It’snotyourfault.Millionsofpeopleposteveryfuckingthingtheydoonsocialmediaeveryday.Itdoesn’tmeanthey’reinvitingpeopletoharassthem.Wouldyoublameawomanforbeingassaultedifshewaswearingashortskirt?”
Sheflinched.“Ofcourse
not.”
“Exactly.Peoplemaketheirownchoices.Youhavetherighttoliveyourlifehowyouwantwithoutworryingaboutcreepswhocan’tcurbtheirworstimpulses.”
“Iknow.Ijust…”Stellafaltered,thenshookherhead.“Iknow.”
Shewasquietforamomentbeforeshegavemeatentativesmilethatthawedsomeoftheiceinmyblood.“ThatwasthemostI’veheardyoucursesincewemet.”
Ashortlaughwoundpastthedimmingrageinmychestandintotheair.
“Sometimes,thesituationcallsforit.”Iheldoutmyarm.“Comehere,Butterfly.”
IdislikedcomfortingpeoplealmostasmuchasIdislikedhavingtheminmypersonalspace,butconsideringeverythingshe’dgonethrough,Icouldbendmyrulesthisonetime.
Andalltheprevioustimesyou’vebenttherulesforher,
avoiceinsidemyheadtaunted.Whathappenedtostayingawayfromher?Hmm?
Ishovedthevoiceintoametalboxinthedarkestrecessesofmymindandslammedthelidshut.
Smugbastard.
Afterabriefhesitation,StellascootedcloseruntilIcouldpullherintomylap.Shedidn’tresist,andwarmthglidedacrossmyskinasIranathumbovertheelegantlineofherjaw.
“Doyoustillhavethelettersfromtwoyearsago?”Iasked.
ThemorephysicalevidenceIhad,thebetter.
Shenodded.“They’reinmybedroom.Icangetthem.”
“Good.I’llgetthemlater.”Iwasn’tquitereadytolethergoyet.Icouldn’trememberthelasttimesomeonesatinmylap,butthesensationwasoddlysoothing.
“Ihatethis.”Stella’svoicedroppedtoawhisper.“Ihatefeelinghelpless.IwishIknew
whathewanted.He’salwaystalkingaboutwhathe…whathe’dliketodotome,butasfarasIknow,he’sneverapproachedme.Noneoftheguyswho’vehitonmeseemlikethey’recapableofstalkingandharassment,butIguessweneverknow.”Asmalltremblerippleddownherspine.“Hewasgoneforyears,andnowhe’sback.Why?”
That,Ihadananswerto.“Becauseofme.Lookatthetiming,”Isaidinresponsetohervisibleconfusion.“Youpostedaphotoofusonsocialmedia—yourfirsttimeofficiallyannouncingaboyfriend.Afewdayslater,hesendsyouanotesayingyoushould’vewaitedforhim.Idon’tknowwherehewentthesepasttwoyears,butit’sobviousourrelationshiptriggeredhim.”
Thesimplestexplanationwasusuallythecorrectone,andthesequenceofeventslineduptooperfectlytobeacoincidence.
“Oh,God.”Stella’sfacedrainedofcolor.“DoesthatmeanIshouldstoppostingaboutus?Whatifheescalatesthingsnexttime?”
“No,”Isaidfirmly.“We’llrampupyoursecurity,butweneednewpoststodrawhimout.Thesoonerwefindhim,thesoonerwecanputthebastardbehindbars.”Orsixfeetintheground.
“Trustme.”Irestedareassuringhandonherbackevenasmymusclescoiledatthethoughtofanyone
threateningher.“Iwon’tletanythinghappentoyou.”
NotevenifIhadtotakeabulletmyself.
“Right.Thatmakessense.”Stelladrewinadeepbreathbeforeanotherfrowntouchedherface.“Whatif…”
Iwaited,curiositybrewingattherisingcoloronhercheeks.
“Whatifhecomesafteryouandyougethurt?”
Afiresparkedinmychest,sosuddenlyandunexpectedlyitwould’vebroughtmetomykneeshadIbeenstanding.
Mypulsedrummedattheunfamiliarwarmthsluicingthroughmyveins,butIkeptmyfaceimpassiveasIcurledahandaroundthebackofherneck.
“Icantakecareofmyself,butyourconcernisdulynoted.”Mywordslengthenedintoadrawl.“Ididn’trealizeyoucaredthatmuchaboutmysafety.”
“Idon’tcare
.Imean,Ido,butI…youknowwhatImean.”
“I’mnotsureIdo.”
Iheldbackalaughatheradorablegrowloffrustration.“You’reinsufferable
.”
“I’vebeencalledworse.”
Stellasatsidewaysonmylap,socloseIcouldcounteverylashframingthosebeautifulgreeneyesandspotthetinymolebehindherrightshoulder.
Warmth,light,andgrace,allwrappedupinaperfectpackageandsittingrightthereformetotake.
Desirecoursedthroughmyveins,butIforceditatbay.Despiteourbanter,Stella’smusclesremainedtense,andherlipswererawfromhowhardshewasbitingthem.
Shewasn’tascalmasshepretendedtobe.
Ourmoralcompassespointedindifferentdirections,butwebothworemaskstoshieldourtruenaturesfromtheworld.
Theonlydifferencewasourmotivesbehindthedeceptionandthelieswetoldourselves.
Stellaliftedherchin.“I’msureyou’vebeencalledallsortsofthings,butyou’renotasscaryasyouwantpeopletothinkyouare,ChristianHarper.”
Myeyesnarrowed.“No?”
“Youloweredmyrent,agreedtobemyfakeboyfriend,andyou’rehelpingmefindthestalkerforfree.Thosearen’ttheactionsofsomeoneheartless.”
Ifsheonlyknew.
“Ididn’tdothemoutofpureselflessness.”
“Maybenotthefirsttwo,butwhatareyougettingoutofhelpingmewiththestalker?”shechallenged.
“Theworldthinksyou’remygirlfriend.Can’thaveanythinghappentoyouorit’dlookbadforme.”Thelieslippedaseasilyfrommytongueasmyownname.“I’mtheCEOofasecuritycompany,afterall.”
That,andaworldwithoutStellainitwasonethatdidn’tdeservetoexist.
Myhungertopiecetogetherherpuzzletetheredmetosanityandfedthetinypartofmethatstillbelievedingoodnessandhumanity.
Itwastheordertomychaos,theflametomyice.
Withoutit,Iwouldbeunmoored,andthatwouldbetheultimatedanger—bothtomyselfandthepeoplearoundme.
DoubtcreptintoStella’seyes.“Isthattheonlyreasonwhy?”Shesoundedlesssurethanshehadaminuteago.
Myhandstilledonthebackofherneck.
Theairbetweenusstretchedsotautitvibratedagainstmyskin,andthesuddenchangeinatmospheredraggedusintoaplacewheretherewasnothreateningnote,nostalker,andnofakearrangement.
Therewasjusttheweightofheronmylap,thescentofherinmylungs,andthewarmthofherinmysoul.
Itwasraw,real,andsofuckingaddicting.
“Doyouwanttheretobeanotherreason?”Aquestionandachallenge,disguisedbyacloakofsoftness.
Stella’slipspartedwithasoft,audibleexhale.Adozenunspokenwordsconsumedthatsinglebreath,andIwantedtokeepeveryoneofthemformyself,tohoardthemclosetomychestthewayadragonguardeditstreasure.
ButinsteadofgivingmethehitIsodesperatelycraved,shegaveaslowshakeofherhead.
“Don’tlietome,Stella.”Irubbedmythumboverthebackofherneckinalazy,languidstroke.
Thesoundofherswallowfilledthespacebetweenus.
Herteethdugintoherlushlowerlip,andthedesiretopullherhairbackandplunderthesoftnessofhermouthconsumedme.
Justonetaste.
Thereasoningofanaddictdesperateforhisnextfix.
I’dnevertastedher—yet—butIimaginedshe’dbeevensweeterthaninmyimagination.
Ourbreathsthunderedtogetherinanerraticdrumbeat.
Onetaste.ThenIcouldsatethisceaselesshungerinsideme.
Onetaste,and—
Asharpringsnappedthetautairinhalfandleftmewithwhiplash.
Stella’seyeswidenedafractionbeforeshescrambledoffmylaplikeI’dsuddenlycaughtfire.
Dammit.
IrritationsolidifiedinmychestattheinterruptionasIstoodandpickedupthecall.Iwalkedtothecorneroftheroomandturnedmybacksoshecouldn’tseethedispleasuredarkeningmyface.
“Thisbetterbeimportant.”
“Itis.I’vegotintelthatRutledgemightjumpshiptoSentinel.”Kagewastednotimebeatingaroundthebush.“Notfuckinggood,especiallyaftertheDeaconandBeatrixsituation.Peoplearegoingtotalk.”
Myirritationintensified.
UnlikeDeaconandBeatrix,Rutledgewasoneofourbiggestaccounts.Losinghimwouldbeunacceptable.
“Explain.”
IswitchedgearstobusinessmodeasKagelaidoutwhathe’dheard.Theexecutivesecurityworldwasasmallone,andonecouldlearnalotiftheyhadeyesandearsintherightplaces.
“It’snotconfirmedyet,”hesaidafterhefinished.“ButIfiguredyou’dwanttoknow.Ifheleaves…”
“Hewon’t.”Rutledge’sexitwouldn’tbeafatalblow,butitwouldmakeHarperSecuritylookweak.Andinmycircles,showingweaknesswasakintopouringbloodintoasharkpool.“I’llhaveatalkwithhim.Inthemeantime,keepaneyeonSentinel.Iwanttoknowifanyoneontheteamsomuchasfuckingsneezes.”
Theywereuptosomething.Oncewasluckandtwicewascoincidence,butthreetimes?Thatwasapattern,andnotoneIparticularlyliked.
“Yougotit,”Kagesaid.
Ihungup,mymindalreadyworkingthroughtheimplicationsoflosinganotheraccounttoSentinel.Iwouldn’t,ofcourse.IknewRutledgewell,includinghisweakspots.ButIalwayslikedtohaveabackupplanincaseeverythingwentsouth.
Oneofthesedays,I’dhavetotakecareofSentinelforgood.
Should’vewipedouttheirentiredamnsystemlikeI’dwanted.
It’dtakemorework,butIcouldhidemytrackswellenoughthatnoonecouldpinpointmeastheculprit.
“Iseverythingokay?”Stella’svoicepulledmeoutofmymusings.“Thatsoundedintense.
“Yes.”IsmoothedmyexpressionintoplacidnessbeforeIturned.“Justahiccupatwork.Nothingimportant.”
IfIwerealone,Iwould’vealreadyputthepiecesforSentinel’sdemiseinmotion.SinceIwasn’t,andIwaswithStella,Isetthosepiecesaside.
Fornow.
“Ihopeyou’renotplanningacompetitor’sruin,”shesaidsolemnly.“ThatwouldbeabitheavyforaFridaynight.”
Ialmostsmiled,bothbecauseshe’dunerringlyhitthenailontheheadandbecauseIspottedaglimmerofherusualsparkleinhereyes.
She’dregainedhercomposureduringmycall.Therosinesshaddissipatedfromhercheeks,andshewascurleduponthecouchnexttothatstupidpurpleunicornwithafaintcurveofherlips.
“Don’tworry.Ikeepthedestructiontobusinesshours,MondaythroughFriday.”Iraisedabrowatthemischiefinhergrowingsmile.“Caretosharethejoke?”
Thesparkleinhereyesbrightened.“CheckmyStories.”
“Idon’thavesocialmedia.”Thelierolledoffmytongue,thoughtechnically,itwasn’talie.
ChristianHarperdidn’thavesocialmedia;CP612did.
“Seriously?”Stellashookherhead.“We’llhavetofixthat,butfornow….”Shetypedsomethingintoherphone.“Checkyourtexts.”
Iopenedhermessage,andIhadtoblinktwicetomakesureIwasseeingcorrectly.
She’dsentascreenshotofaStoriespoll.Apictureofme,backturnedandphonetomyear,tookuptheleftsideofthescreen;afamiliarpurpleunicorndominatedtherightside.
Thequestionwassimple:Whowouldyourathercuddlewith?Mr.HarperorMr.Unicorn?
“You’relosing,bytheway,”Stellasaid.“Mr.Unicornisbeatingyoufifty-threetoforty-sevenpercent.”
Istaredather,sureIwashearingwrongandthatshedidn’thavethefuckingaudacitytopitmeagainstaraggedystuffedanimalwithacrookedeyeinsomeabsurdsocialmediapoll.
IwasalsosureIcouldn’tbelosing
tosaidstuffedanimal.
“Thepollmustbebrokenbecausethat’sridiculous.”ItriednottosoundasinsultedasIfelt.
“It’snot,butyouhavetwenty-threehoursandfifty-oneminutestocatchup.”Stella’ssmiledimmed,andatouchofnervesresurfacedinhereyes.“Drawhimoutwithmoreposts,right?”
Herstalker.
Shemaynotbewillingtoadmittheattractionbetweenus,butshetrustedmeenoughtotakemyrecommendationimplicitly.
Iblamedthefleetingacheinmychestonheartburn.Mydoctorwasgoingtohavehishandsfullduringournextcheckup.
“That’sright.Andfortherecord…”Itappedmyphonescreen.“Youneedfollowerswithbettertasteifthey’rechoosingaunicornoverme.I’mwearingBrioni,forfuck’ssake.”
Stella’slaughfinallypulledasmileoutofme.
Despitewhathappenedtwonightsago,herlightstillshonethrough,andshewasmoreresilientthanalotofpeople,includingmyself,gavehercreditfor.
That’smygirl.14
STELLA
March
25
It’sbeenamonthsincemydinnerwithDelamonte,andIhaven’theardapeepfromthemaboutthebrandambassadorselection.Bradyassuresmethey’llchoosesoon,buthe’sbeensayingthatforweeks.Atthispoint,I’mconvincedIdidn’tgetit.
Onthebrightside,I’mstillgainingfollowers,andI’vegottentwonewbranddealsinthepastweek.Theydon’tpayasmuchasDelamontewould’ve,buteverybitcounts.Also,I’malmostat930Kfollowers,whichiswildandalittledepressing.ItturnsoutallIneededtodowastogetaboyfriendtobemoreinteresting[insertsigh].
Speakingofwhich…IpostedanotherphotoofChristiantheotherday.ThesameoneIsnappedofhimwhenhewasonhiscall(hestillhasn’tgottenoverlosingtoaunicorninmypoll.Itoldhimhewould’vewonhadheshownhisface,whichwentoveraswellasyou’dexpect).Notmymostcreativework,butI’mstillnervousaboutmystalkerseeingaphotoofustogetherandsnapping.
IknowChristiansaidweneedtodrawhimout,whichmakessense.AndItrusthimtokeepmesafe.Igavehimthestalker’soldlettersandhisteamis…doingwhateveritissecuritypeopledowithcreepyanonymousnotes.
Still,IhaveabadfeelingthiscouldallgowrongVERYquickly.
Idon’twanttoletthestalkersituationrulemylife,andIWON’T.
But…I’mgoingtostayputinmyapartmentandworkonmybloguntilIgetanupdatefromChristian.Justincase
It’sbettertobesafethansorry.
DailyGratitude:
Food/grocerydeliveries
Cuteloungewear
Buildingsecurity
***
“Getdressed.
We’releavinginanhour.”
IgapedatChristian,whostoodinmydoorwayinacrispblackbutton-downanddarkjeans.Itwasmyfirsttimeseeinghiminanythingotherthanasuit,andtheeffectwasequallydevastatinginacompletelydifferentway.
“Excuseme?”Itriednottostareatthewayhisshirtstretchedoverhisbroadshouldersandmusculararms.
“We’releavinginanhour,”herepeated.“There’sanartgalleryopeningIneedtoattend.Dresscodeisdressycasual.Ipresumeyouownanappropriateoutfit.”
Iwaswearingacropsweatshirtandshorts.ThechancesofanyonedraggingmeoutofmyapartmentwhenI’dalreadychangedintomysleepwearwerenexttozero.
“Thiswasn’tonourcalendar,andI’mbusy.”Ikeptmyhandonthedoorknob,barringhimfromentering.
Hecouldn’tjustshowupanddemandIgosomewherewithhimlastminute.Ineededtimetomentallyprepareforoutingsthatinvolvedextensivesocializationwithstrangers.
Christianfixedmewithadubiousstare.“Yes,youlookpositivelyswampedwith…”Hisgazecoastedovermyshoulder,andmyskinwarmedwhenIrememberedwhathe’dfind.ApintofBen&Jerry’s,TheDevilWearsPrada
onscreen,andtheremnantsofatakeoutsalad.“Dairyandfashionmagazinetyranny.Missyouroldjobalready?”
“Iwatchitfortheoutfits.”Isqueezedthedoorknobforstrength.“I’msorry,butnexttimeyouwantmetoaccompanyyoutoanevent,givememorethananhour’snotice.”
Christianappearedunfazedbymypointedsuggestion.“Ididn’tknowRichardWyattwouldbeattheopeninguntilthirtyminutesago.”
Wyatt.
Theclienthe’dhopedtosignatthefundraiser.“Ithoughtyoualreadyclosedthedeal.”
“Ninetypercent.Hecamebackwithconcernsafterreviewingthecontract,andI’dprefertoaddresstheminpersontonight.”Hisbrowsdippedwithapproval.“Whenwasthelasttimeyouleftyourapartment?You’rewilting.”
Mymouthpartedinshockattheutterrudenessofhiscomment.“Iamnotwilting.
Iammerely…hibernating.”
Wilting
wasawordusedtodescribedyingplants,notahealthyhumanbeing.I’dneverbeenmoreinsulted,thoughhewasn’tentirelywrong.
I’donlyleftmyapartmentonceinthepastweek,andthatwastocheckonChristian’splants.We’dgottenoverourargumentinhisofficelastweek,andIhadbothmykeystohisplaceandmywateringresponsibilitiesback.
I’dbeensubsistingonsmoothiesandfooddeliveries,whichwasn’tgoodformywalletor
waistline,andmyskincravedthenaturalwarmthofsunshine.
ButeverytimeIattemptedtogooutside,mymindspiraledtothenoteandalltheplacesmystalkercould’vegottentome.
I’ddepletedtheburstofcourageI’dgottenthemorningafterIfoundthenote,andIhadnoideahowtoreplenishit.
“Callitwhateveryouwant.Theresultisthesame,”Christiansaid,clearlyunimpressedbymyeuphemism.“Fiftyminutestogetready.”
“I’mnotgoing.”
“Forty-nineminutesandfifty-sevenseconds.”
“Nothing’schangedinthepastthreeseconds.I’m.Not.Going.”
“Thiswasourdeal.”Hiscoolvoicesentarushofindignationdownthebackofmyneck.“Youaccompanymetoevents;Iposeinyourphotosandactasyourboyfriend.Youdon’twanttocutoffthemomentumwhenit’sgoingsowell,doyou?”
Hewasright,butthatdidn’tmeanIappreciatedChristiantellingmewhattodo.
“Areyoublackmailing
me?”
Hissmilewasalllazycharmandamusement.“Notblackmailing.Persuading.”
Now
helikedeuphemisms.
“Samethinginyourworld.”
“You’relearning.”Christiantappedthefaceofhiswatch.“Forty-fourminutes.”
Oureyesclashedinabattleofdefianceversusindifference.
Ihadnodesiretoleavemyapartment.Icouldliveherefortherestofmylifeandbehappy.Itwassafe,quiet,andfullyequippedwithmovies,icecream,andinternet.Whatmorecouldagirlwant?
Humancompany.Sunshine.A
life,
avoicewhispered.
Igrittedmyteeth.Shutup.
Makeme.
Icouldpracticallyseethedisembodiedvoicestickingitstongueout.
Arguingwithmyselfandsoundinglikeafifthgrader.Thathadtobeanewlow.
“Forty-twominutes,Stella.”Christian’seyesflickeredwiththesoftglowofrisingdanger.“Ihaveabusinessdealtoclose,soifyouinsistonholingyourselfuplikeascaredhermit,tellmenowsoIcanterminateourdeal.”
Scaredhermit.
Thewordsslithereddownmyspinelikeataunt.
Wasthathowhesawme?WasthatwhoIwas
?Someonesothrownoffbyone
anonymousnotethatIletitrulemylife?
Wherewasthegirlfromthemorningafter,theonewho’dmarchedoutofthehouseandvowednottoletfearwin?
Shewasasephemeralasmorningrainanddreamsofperfection.Alwaysfightingtoliveandalwaysdyingbythebladeofmyanxiety.
Thedoorknobslippedagainstmyhand
“Fine.”ThewordrushedoutbeforeIcouldchangemymind.“I’llgo.”
IfonlytoprovethatIwasn’tasweakastheworldthoughtIwas.
Nosmile,buttheglowofdangerdimmeduntilmereembersremained.“Good.Fortyminutes.”
Mylipspressedtogether.“Youare,withoutdoubt,themostinsufferablecountdowntimerthat’severexisted.”
Christian’slaughfollowedmeintomyroom,whereIflickedthroughmyclosetbeforesettlingonasilkycamisoleunderablazer,jeans,andvelvetflats.
Apprehensiontoreatmynerves,butIkeptmyexpressionneutralasIreenteredthelivingroom.
Cool,calm,collected.
Christiandidn’tsayawordwhenhesawme,buthisstarepressedagainstmybodyinawaythatwarmedmefromtheinsideout.
Werodetothegalleryinsilenceexceptforthesoftclassicalmusicpipingfromthespeakers.Iwasgratefulhedidn’ttrytomakeconversation.Ineededtogatherallmyenergyforanightoutwhenmybodyhadalreadybeeninhomerelaxation
mode.
Mynervesintensifiedwhenthegallerycameintosight.
I’mfine.You’refine.We’refine
IwaswithChristian,andmystalkerwouldn’tattackmeinthemiddleofapublicparty.
I’mfine.You’refine.We’refine,
Irepeated.
Luckily,thegalleryopeningwaslesscrowdedthanthefundraiser.Therewerethreedozenguestsmax,encompassingamixofcreativeandhighsocietytypes.Theymilledaboutthestarkwhitespace,talkingquietlyoverglassesofchampagne.
ChristianandIcirculatedtheroom,makingsmalltalkabouteverythingfromtheweathertocherryblossomseason.IpitchedinwhereIcould,butunlikeatthefundraiser,Ilethimtakethelead.
Iwastootiredtobewittyandcharming,thoughitdid
feelnicetobeinpublicagainforthefirsttimeinaweek.
IstuckbyChristian’ssideuntilWyattarrivedwithhiswife.
“Youdowhatyouhavetodo,”Isaid.“I’mgoingtocheckouttherestoftheexhibition.”
TherewasnowayIcouldlistentothemtalkbusinesswithoutfallingasleep.
“Interruptmeifyouneedme.”Christianleveledmewithadarkstare.“Imeanit,Stella.”
“Iwill.”Iwon’t.
Thethoughtofinterruptingsomeonemid-conversationgavemehives.ItwasawkwardandrudeandIwouldratherthrowmyselfintoanicepoolinthedeadofwinter.
WhilehespokewithWyatt,Imademywaythroughtheexhibitonepieceatatime.TheartistMorten(firstnameonly)specializedinabstractrealism.Hispaintingswerelush,sometimeshaunting,andalwaysbeautiful.Boldstrokesofcolordepictedthedarkestofemotions:rage,envy,guilt,helplessness.
Istoppedinfrontofacanvashalf-hiddeninthecorner.Init,agorgeousyounggirlstaredofftothesidewithawistfulexpression.Herfacewassorealisticitcould’vebeenaphotographhaditnotbeenforthestreaksofcolordrippingdownhercheeksandontoherabstracttorso.Thestreakscoalescedintoadarkpoolofwateratthebottomofthepainting,whileherblackhaircurledawayfromherfaceandfadedintoarenditionofthenightsky.
Thepiecewasn’tasbigorflashyastheotherpaintings,butsomethingaboutittuggedatmysoul.Maybeitwasthelookinhereyes,likeshewasdreamingofaparadisesheknewshe’dneverreach.Ormaybeitwasthemelancholyofitall—thesensethatdespiteherbeauty,herlifewasmoredarkdaysandlonelynightsthanitwasrainbowsandsunshine.
“Youlikethisone.”Christian’svoicestartledmefrommyreverie.
I’dbeenstaringatthepaintingforsolongIhadn’trealizedhe’dfinishedhisconversationwithWyatt.
Ididn’tturnaround,buttheheatofhisbodyenvelopedmineatthesametimegoosebumpspepperedmyarms.Itwasaparadox,muchlikethemanstandingbehindme.
“Thegirl.I…”Relatetoher.“Thinkshe’sbeautiful.”
“Sheis.”Thesoft,meaningfuldipinhisvoicehadmequestioningwhetherhewastalkingaboutthepaintingorsomethingelse.
Aseedofawarenessblossomedattheprospect,anditonlygrewwhenherestedahandonmyhip.Itwassolightitwasapromisemorethanatouch,butitthrilledmeallthesame.
Icouldn’trememberthelasttimeIwantedaguy’stouch.
“Didyouclosethedeal?”Thecatchinmyvoicesoundedpainfullyobviousinthisquietcornerwherenothingexistedexceptforheatandelectricityandanticipation.
Thebrightlightsdimmed,thenfadedintoblacknesswhenmyeyesflutteredshutattheslowslideofChristian’shandupthecurveofmyhipandontomywaist.
Hissoftrumbleofsatisfactionvibratedthroughmybodyandsettledlowinmycore.
“Yes.”Hegrazedtheothersideofmywaistwithhishandbeforethatone,too,restedagainstmyside.
Ishouldn’thaveclosedmyeyes.Intheabsenceofvisualdistraction,heconsumed
me.Myworldhadnarrowedtotheweightofhishandsonmyskin,thescentofhiminmylungs,andthevelvetycaressofhiswordsastheyworkedtheirwaydownmyneck,overmyachingbreasts,andtothepulsingneedbetweenmythighs.
Myearlierannoyancetowardhimdisappeared,replacedwithadesiresofierceandunexpecteditleftmebreathless
“Areyoustillthinkingaboutthepainting,Stella?”Knowingamusementdeepenedintosomethingdarker,morewicked.
ThebrushofChristian’smouthagainstmynecksentanotherwaveofgoosebumpsscatteringacrossmyskin.
Asoftmoanroseinmythroatandburst,unbidden,intothethick,languidair.
Mortificationflushedmyskin,butthat,too,evaporatedwhenheslidhishandfrommywaisttomystomach.Hisknuckleraspeddownthesilkofmytop,fromjustbelowmybreastbonetojustabovemyjeans.
Thepulsesofdesireintensified,sohardandinsistentmythighsclenchedinanattempttoeasemyneed.
Itonlymadeitworse.
Iwassecondsawayfromunraveling,andChristianhadbarelytouchedme.
Ashiverskateddownmyspineatthethoughtofwhathecoulddoifheactuallytried.
Thecurveofhislipsbrandedmyneckwithmalesatisfaction.“I’lltakethatasano.”Hedippedhisthumb,eversobriefly,inthetinygapbetweenmystomachandthewaistbandofmyjeans.
“Openyoureyes,Stella.Thephotographer’swatching.”
MyeyesflewopenrightasIheardthedistinctiveclickofacamerashutter.
Theeventphotographer.
Thesoundcamefrommyleft,whichmeanttheanglewasperfectforcapturinganintimatecouplemomentbetweenmeandChristianwithoutshowingChristian’sface,whichwasburiedintherightsideofmyneck.
Anicybucketofrealizationdousedthefireinmyblood.
Thiswasn’treal.None
ofthiswasreal,nomatterhowgoodofanactorChristianwas.
Thiswasbusiness,andIwoulddowelltorememberthat.
Ishruggedhimoffmeandfinallyturnedtofacehim.
“Nicejob.”Ismoothedahandovermyfront,tryingtowipeawaythelingeringmemoryofhistouch.“Thatwastheperfectsetup.Doyouthinkthephotographerwillletmepostthepicture?Withcredit,ofcourse.”
Christian’seyesnarrowed.Afaintflushcoloredhissculptedcheekbones,butsardoniccoolnesslacedhisreply.
“I’msurehewill.”
“Perfect.”
Awkwardsilencefilledthepreviouslychargedairbeforehisgazedriftedbacktothepaintingovermyshoulder.“Youdon’tlikeitjustbecauseit’sbeautiful.”
Itwasn’taquestion,butIwelcomedthechangeintopic.Itwassaferthanwhateverhadtranspiredbetweenusafewminutesago.
Already,thebreathless,lust-drivenwomanwho’dmeltedbeneathasimpletouchseemedlikeafeverdreamgoneawry.
Ididn’tlosemymindovermen.Ididn’tthinkabouttheirhandsonmeorwonderhowtheirkisseswouldtaste.
“It’sthepiecethatspeakstomemost,”Isaidafterabriefhesitation
Iachedtoomuchforthewomaninthepaintingtoconsideritafavorite,butitentrancedmeinawayfewthingsdid.Itwasliketheartisthadcrawledinsidemymindandsplashedmyfearsontocanvasforalltosee.
Theresultwasequallyliberatingandterrifying.
“Interesting.”Christian’stonewasunreadable.
“Whataboutyou?What’syourfavoritepiece?”Aperson’stasteinartrevealedalotaboutthem,buthehadn’tshownmorethanacursoryinterestinanyofthegallery’sworks.
“Idon’thaveone.”
“Therehastobeone
youlikemorethantheothers.”Itriedagain.
Hisstarecould’vefrostedtheinsideofavolcano.
“I’mnotanartenthusiast,Stella.I’mherepurelyforbusiness,andIhavenodesiretowastetimeassigningpreferencestoobjectsthatmeannothingtome.”
Okay,then.
I’dstruckanerve,thoughIhadnocluewhichone.
Christianwasn’tanexpressivepersonbynature,butI’dneverseenhimshutdownsofast.Alltracesofemotionhaddisappearedfromhisface,leavingonlypracticedblanknessbehind.
“Sorry.Ididn’trealizeartwassuchatouchysubject,”Isaid,hopingtowarmthesuddenchillintheair.“Mostpeopleloveit.”
Attheveryleast,theydidn’thateit.
“Mostpeoplelove
alotofthings.”Christian’stonesaidallheneededtosayabouthisthoughtsonthesubject.“Thewordismeaningless.”
Don’tworry,Ms.Alonso.Idon’tbelieveinlove.
Hiswordsfromthenightofourarrangementfloatedthroughmymind.
Therewasastorythere,butextractingbloodfromstonewouldbeeasierthangettingthatstoryoutofhimtonight.
“Notanenthusiastofartorlove.Noted.”
Ididn’tlookatanotherpiece,andChristiandidn’tspeaktoanyoneelse.Instead,wewalkedtowardtheexit,boundbyanunspokenagreementthatitwastimetocallitanight.
Itwasn’tuntilwesteppedoutsidethathisshouldersrelaxed.
Heslantedasidewaysglanceatmeduringourwalktohiscar.“Itfeelsgoodtoleavethehouse,doesn’tit?”
Isuckedinalungfulofcold,freshairandtiltedmyheadupatthesky.Themoonshonehighandbright,bathingtheworldinsilverymagic.
Thenightlurkedwithdangers,butthoseshadowsseemedtodisappearwheneverChristianwasaround.
Evenwhenhewasmoodyandintractable,hewasasourceofsecurity.
“Yes,”Isaid.“Itdoes.”15
STELLA
Despitemyreluctanceto
attendlastweek’sartgalleryopening,itdidbreakmyself-imposedbanonnotleavingthehouse.
Ialsohadn’theardapeepfrommystalkersincethefirstnote,whichhelped.BythetimethefollowingWednesdayrolledaround,I’drelaxedenoughtoventureintopubliconmyownagain.
Thatwasthethingabouthumans.Wewerehard-wiredforsurvival,andwetookeveryopportunitytoconvinceourselvesthatourproblemsweren’tasbadaswethoughttheywere.
Hopeanddenial.Twosidesofthesamecoin.Theykeptusfromfallingintoawellofdespaireveninthedarkestoftimes.
IvisitedMaura,shoppedforgroceries,andmetLilahforcoffee,whereIpickedherbrainabouteverythingfashiondesign-related.
TheonlypersonIdidn’tseewasChristian,whowasbusywithwork.Atleast,thatwaswhathesaid.MaybehewasasdiscomfitedbyourinteractionatthegalleryasIwas.
Mypencilpausedatthememory.Theroughnessofhisvoice,theheadyscentofleatherandspice,thewayhistouchsearedthroughmyclothesandintomyskin…
Restlessnessbloomedinmychest.
IshiftedinmyseatandshookmyheadbeforeIchanneledtheceaselessbuzzintothetaskathand—astackofunfinishedfashionsketchesI’ddugupfromthedepthsofmydraweraftermymeetingwithLilah.
I’dcollecteddozensofthemovertheyears.Istartedeachoneintendingtofinishandmakeitthe
piecethatwouldlaunchmybrand,butinevitably,self-doubtandimpostersyndromewouldhit,andI’dabandonitforanotherphotoshootorablogpost.ThingsIknew
Iwasgoodatandthathadatrackrecordofsuccess.
Butnotthistime.
Tryingandfailingisbetterthannottryingatall.
Lilah’swordsfromourmeetuphauntedme.Itwasthefirsttimesomeonehadevertoldmeitwasokay
tofail.
Failurehadn’tbeenanoptiongrowingup.ItwasstraightA’sornothing.Once,I’dbeensoanxiousaboutaneighty-ninepercentIgotonamathtestIbrokeoutinhivesandhadtogotothenurse’soffice.
Thayerhadn’tbeenmuchbetter;theschoolswarmedwithTypeAoverachievers.AsforD.C.Style
…well,lookwhathappenedthelasttimeImadeamistake.
ButIdidn’tliveathomeanymore,Iwasn’tincollege,andIdidn’tworkforanyoneexceptmyself.
IcoulddowhatIwanted,especiallywiththepartnershipdealsIwasgettingnow.
Ididn’twant
tofail,buttheideathatIcould
withouttheworldendingunchainedmycreativity.
I’dbeenstuckthelasttimeItriedtosketch,tracingandretracingthesamelinesuntilItossedtheentirethingoutoffrustration.
Now,mypencilflewoverthepageasIdetailedthelacepatternsofablouseandtheelegantsilhouetteofaneveninggown.
Itwasadifferenttypeofcreativeoutletthanmyblogandsocialmedia.
Those,Ididforotherpeople.
This,Ididforme.
I’dlovedfashionsinceIsnuckacopyofmymom’sVogue
intomyroomatageeight.Itwasn’tjusttheclothesthemselves;itwasthewaytheytransformedthewearerintowhoevertheywantedtobe.
Anetherealprincess,aglamorousCEO,abadassrocker,foravintageicon.Nothingwasofflimits.
InahouseholdwhereruleswereironcladandthepathtosuccesscutstraightthroughtheIvyLeaguetowardanyoneofadozen“acceptable”careers,thechaotic,colorfulworldoffashionhadcalledtomelikeasirensonginthedark.
Ifinishedmyfirstsketchandmovedontothesecond.
AtinyseedofpridesproutedwitheachsketchIcompleted.Toothers,theywerejustdrawings,buttome,theywereproofofperseveranceafteryearsofholdingmyselfback.
Sometimes,victorywasassimpleasfinishing.
Iwassoengrossedinmywork,Ididn’trealizehowmuchtimehadpasseduntilmystomachgrowledinwarning.
Aglanceattheclocktoldmeitwasalreadytwointheafternoon.I’dbeensketchingnonstopsincenine.
PartofmewastemptedtoskiplunchandkeepdrawingsoIdidn’tlosemymomentum,butIforcedmyselftochangeandpickupsomefoodatthecafenexttotheMirage.
Itwaspastlunchtime,butthetinyshopbustledwithactivity.
SinceIdidn’tfeellikeventuringfurtherforteaandasandwich,Itookmyspotbehindascowlingwomaninagraysuitandwaited.
Outofhabit,Ipulledoutmyphoneandtappedintomyprofile.
MylastphotowastheonethephotographertookofmeandChristianattheartgallery.Itwasdoingevenbetterthanourdebutpicture,andmyfollowercountwasalreadyat950K.Atthisrate,I’dhitthemillion-followermarkbysummer.
Insteadofexcitementattheprospect,allIcouldfocusonwastheimageofChristian’sarmswrappedaroundme.
Welookedsomuchlikearealcouple.Sometimes,likewhenhe’dcomfortedmethenightIfoundthenoteorpulledmeintohislapafterItoldhimaboutmystalker,wefelt
likearealcouple.
Uneasesquirmedthroughmygut.
Thestalkersituationhadthrownawrenchintoourarrangement.ItconnectedmeandChristianmorethanwe’doriginallyplanned,andI—
Anincomingcallnotificationreplacedthephotoofusonmyscreen.
DelamonteNewYork.
Thebreathstolefrommylungs,andallthoughtsofChristianfelltothewaysideasIansweredthecall.
“Hello?”Mycalmgreetingbeliedmynerves.Hopepeekedoutfrombehindthechurningmass,butIforceditbackintotheshadows.
Ididn’twanttogetmyhopesuponlytobedisappointedwhen—if
—Delamontetoldmetheyweregoinginadifferentdirection.
“HiStella,thisisLuisafromDelamonte.Howareyou?”
“I’mgood.Howareyou?”Iwipedmyfreehandagainstthesideofmythigh.
“I’mgood,”Luisasaid.“Iapologizeforcallingyououtofthebluelikethis,butIfiguredthiswouldbeagoodfollow-uptotheemailwesentthismorning.”
Mystomachswooped.I’dbeensobusywithmysketchesIhadn’tcheckedmyemailsincewakingup.
Ofcourse
theonedayIdidn’tcheckitobsessivelywasthedayIhadanimportantmessagewaitingforme.
“I’mnotsureifyou’veseenityet.Incaseyouhaven’t…”IcouldhearthesmileinLuisa’svoice.“IwanttoformallyextendanofferforyoutobeDelamonte’sbrandambassadorintheupcomingyear.Wedidn’tofficiallyannouncetheselectionprocessbecausewewantedtochooseouridealcandidateswithoutgettingswampedwithunsolicitedpitches,butaftermuchdeliberation,wethinkyouwouldmakeawonderfuladditiontotheDelamontefamily…”
Aloudbuzzdrownedouttherestofherwords,andIstaredblindlyatthechalkboardmenuasthelineinchedforward.
Formallyextendanoffer…Delamonte’sbrandambassadorintheupcomingyear…makeawonderfuladditiontotheDelamontefamily…
Iwantedtopinchmyself,butIwasn’treadytoreenterrealityincasethiswas
adream.
Thecampaignmeantatonofmoney,whichmeantIcouldeasilypayforMaura’scareandfundthestartupcostsforafashionline,whichmeant…
TheloudwhirofthecoffeemachinedraggedmeoutofmyracingthoughtssoonenoughtocatchtheendofLuisa’sstatement.
“…lookoverthecontractandletusknow.Thedeadlineforacceptanceorrefusalisnextweek,sotakesometimetothinkaboutit.”
Idon’tneedtothinkaboutit!I’lltakeit!
“Thankyousomuch.Iwill.”ThelogicalpartofmeknewIshouldn’tagreetoanythingwithoutreadingthefineprintfirst,evenifitwasforadreamdeal.
“Excellent,”Luisasaidwarmly.“Ihopewecanworktogether.Youraestheticistheepitomeofourbrand,andyouraccountisdoingamazing.Fiftythousandnewfollowersinjustafewweeks!That’sincredible.And…beforeIsaythis,Iwantyoutoknowthishadnothingtodowithourdecision…butChristianhasalwayshadexquisitetaste.I’mnotsurprisedthatextendstohislovelife.He’sneverhadarealgirlfriendbefore,sothefactyou’redatingisquiterevealing.”
Mysmiledimmed.Guiltslowedthetinyeffervescentbubblesofgiddinessthathadbeenhurtlingthroughmyveinsuntilasecondago.
I’dgainedthosefollowersbecauseI’dbeenlyingtomyaudience.Granted,itwasn’tamaliciouslie,anditdidn’thurtanybody,butguiltateatmeallthesame.
“LikeIsaid,thathadnothingtodowithourdecision.Butit’sabonus.”Luisaclearedherthroat.“Anyway,Ihavetoruntoameeting,butlookoverthecontractanddiscussitwithBrady.Wesentacopytohimaswell,soletusknowifyouhaveanyquestions.”
“Iwill,thankyou.”Ihungupintimetoplacemyorder.I’dfinallyreachedthefrontoftheline,butIwassobuzzedIwasnolongerhungry,soIjustorderedateaandacroissant.
BythetimeIreturnedtotheMirage,I’ddrownedmyguiltovermyfakerelationshipwithjustificationsandeuphoriafromlandingtheDelamontedeal.
Iwasgoingtobetheirnewbrandambassador.Me,StellaAlonso,thefaceofoneoftheworld’stopluxurybrands
Notonlywasitasix-figuredeal,butit’dopendoorstomoreopportunitiesthanIcoulddreamof.Icouldupmybaserates,networkwith—
Theturnofmydoorknobsentmecrashingbacktoearth.
Itwaslocked,whichmeantit’dbeenun
lockedbeforeIputmykeyin.
Myhighevaporated,replacedwithaneeriecrawlingsensationupthebackofmyneck.
IwasninetypercentsureI’dlockedmydooronmywayout.WasIrememberingwrong?TheMiragehadneverhadabreak-in,but…
Iglancedaroundtheemptyhallway,theeeriesensationintensifying.IgrabbedmytaserfrommybagbeforeIunlockedthedoorandinchedthroughmyapartment.Partofmefeltridiculous;theotherpartscreamedatmeinwarning.
Ifoundnothingamissinthelivingroom,kitchen,bathroom,orJules’soldroom.Theonlyplacelefttocheckwasmybedroom.
Islowlypushedopenthedoor.
Atfirst,everythinglookednormal.Untouchedbed,closedwindows,noopendrawersorupendedfurniture.
Iwasonthevergeofrelaxingwhenmygazesnaggedontheitemwaitingformeonmynightstand.
AndIscreamed.16
CHRISTIAN
Luisa:
FYI,yourgirlgotthedeal.
Istaredatmyphone,suddenlymoreinterestedinLuisa’stextthanKage’sbriefingontheRutledgesituation.
I’dtoldhertoupdatemewhenshemadeafinaldecision,andshe’dchosencorrectly,asI’dknownshewould.
MyonlyregretwasnotseeingStella’sfaceandthewayhereyesmust’velitupwhenshegotthenews.
We’dhavetocelebratelater—forappearances’sake,ofcourse,sincethatwaswhatarealcouplewoulddo.MaybedinnerinNewYorkoraweekendinParis…
“…couldkeeptheRutledgeaccount,butwedon’tknowifSentinel—Christian,areyoulisteningtome?”AhintofannoyanceworkeditswayintoKage’svoice.
“Yes.WeheldontotheRutledgeaccount,Sentinelwilltrytostealmoreofourclients,andthey’reallegedlyworkingonsomethingbig,butwedon’tknowwhatitisyet.Continue.”Ilookedup,myfacehardening.“Anddon’tquestionmeagain.”
Kage’smouthtightened,buthecontinuedasordered.
“We’restillgatheringintelonSentinel’ssecretproject,butwethink…”
IdroppedmyeyesbacktomyphoneandopenedStella’sprofile.Shehadn’tpostedanythingnewinthepastfewdays,soIsettledforexaminingthephotoofusattheartgallery.
Evenfromtheside,shewasavision
Lushdarkcurls,flawlessskin,andlong,leanlinesthattransformedeventheplainestclothingintoamasterpiece.
Somethingtuggedlowinmygutatthememoryofhowshe’dfeltbeneathmyhands.OfthewayherscentfilledmylungswhenIburiedmyfaceinherneckandthelittlehitchinhervoicewhenI’dtouchedher.
She’dlookedsoenrapturedbythatpaintingIalmosthadn’twantedtointerrupther,butIcouldn’thelpmyself
Tryingtostayawayfromherwasliketheoceantryingtostayawayfromtheshore.
Impossible.
IrubbedmythumboverthephonescreenwhileKagedronedon.
Intruth,Ihadn’tneededtoconvinceWyattofanythingatthegalleryopening.He’dalreadyagreedtohireHarperSecurity;wejustneededtosignthecontract,whichIcould’vescheduledduringbusinesshours.
ButaccordingtoBrock,Stellahadn’tleftherhousesinceherfamilydinner,andshe’dneededapushtogooutside.Sheshonetoobrightlytostaycoopedupoutoffear.
“What’sthelatestupdateonthebackgroundchecks?”IinterruptedwhateverKagewassayingtofocusonthemostimportantmatterathand:Stella’sstalker.
Asexpected,hewaslyinglow,andhe’dbeencarefulwithallthenoteshe’dsenther.Theywereallinfuriatinglygenericwithnotasingleshredofphysicalevidencetopointusintherightdirection.
Intheabsenceofnewevidence,I’dhadKagepulltogetheralistofeveryoneinStella’slife,includingoldclassmates,coworkers,andotherinfluencers.Amajorityofstalkingvictimsknewtheirstalkerinsomecapacity,sothatwasthebestplacetostart.
Kagefrownedbutwiselydidn’tcomplain.“Nothingsuspiciousyet.I’llletyouknowassoonaswegetahit.”Hehesitated,thensaid,“Listen,Iknowshe’syourgirl,butwe’reusingalotofresourceson—”
Hewasinterruptedagain,thistimebyanincomingcallonmyphone.
Stella.
ItwaslikeI’dconjuredherwithmythoughts.
Ipickedup,expectinghertotellmeabouttheDelamontedeal.Shedashedthoseexpectationsimmediately.
“Christian.”Stella’svoicecracked.
Icedousedthewarmththat’dflaredatthesightofhername.
Something’swrong.
“Whereareyou?”Iskippedtheuselessquestions—areyouokay?what’swrong?
—andcutstraighttotheheartofthematter.
Despitemycalmvoice,myhandcurledsotightaroundmyphoneitcrackedinprotest.
“Home.”Herreplywasbarelyaudible.
“I’llberightthere.”
Ididn’tbotherputtingonajacketbeforeIleft;theonlythingIcouldthinkaboutwashowupsetStellamustbetocallme.
Ifshecould,shewouldkeepallherproblemstoherselfandtrytohandlethemonherown.Alwayshelpingothersandneveraskingforherself.Thefactshehadn’t…
Myheartslowedtoadeep,ominousthrum,andmyhandflexedwiththesuddenneedtostranglesomethingbeforeIforcedittorelax.
UntilIfoundoutexactlywhathappened,Ineededtokeepalevelheadandnotkillanyone—specificallyBrock,whowassupposed
tobelookingafterStella.
KagegawkedatmeasIyankedopenthedoor.
Ineverwalkedoutofabriefing,ever.Ilikedtoknoweverythingthatwashappeninginmybusiness,evenifitwasboringasshit.
“Whereareyou—”
“Briefing’sover.”Islammedthedoorbehindme,cuttinghimoffmid-sentence.
Myfootstepspoundedoutacold,furiousrhythmasIcalledBrockonmywaytothegarage.
Whythefuck
hadn’thealertedmethatsomethingwaswrong?WhatwasthepointofhavingsomeoneshadowStellaiftheycouldn’tdotheirgoddamnjob?
“Stella.Whathappened?”Ibitoutwhenheanswered.
Therewasashort,startledpausebeforeheanswered.“Nothing,sir.”
“Nothing.”Myvoicedroppedtosubzerotemperatures.“Ifnothing
happened,whydidshejustcallme,soundinglikeshewasonthevergeoftears?”
Anotherpause,thisonelacedwithuncertainty.
“Shewashomeallmorning.Shewenttothecoffeeshop,receivedacall,andlookedhappyashell.Shewasstillsmilingwhenshereturnedtoherapartment.Idon’tknowwhathappenedafterthat.”Iheardanaudibleswallow.“Youtoldmenottomonitorherwhenshewasinsideherhouse.”
Ihad,andthatwasafuckingmistake.Screwboundaries.
Theydidn’tapplywhenitcametohersafety.
IcouldpracticallyhearBrocksweatingovertheline.“Boss,Iswear,Ididn’t—”
“We’lltalkaboutthislater.”
Iendedthecallandclimbedintomycar.Ifhedidn’thaveusefulinformationforme,Iwasn’tgoingtowastemytimetalkingtohim.
MyonlyfocuswasongettingtoStellaassoonaspossible.
Furyflickeredinmychest,itsicyburnabalmtothehot,unfamiliarpanicinmylungsasIspedtowardtheMirage.
BetweenmyMcLarenandthesemi-emptystreets,Imadeitthereinfiveminutesflat.
WhenIarrivedatStella’sapartment,Ifoundherinthelivingroom,staringatasheetofpaperinherhands.
Ididn’thavetoreadittoknowitwasanothernotefromherstalker.
Crimsonedgedmyvision,butIkeptmyexpressionneutralasStellaliftedherheadtolookatme.
“Ifounditinmybedroom,”shewhispered.“Hewasinsidemyhouse.
He’snever—thisisthefirsttimehe’sever…”Hershallowbreathsfilledtheensuingsilence.
Irecognizedtheirerraticrhythmandthetinyshiverswrackingherbody.
Shewasonthevergeofapanicattack.
Icrossedtheroomandeasedtheletteroutofherfrozenhands,thegentlemovementatoddswiththeviolentroarofbloodinmyears.
Acursoryglancerevealedthreetypedwords.
Iwarnedyou.
Theroarintensified.
“He’snothereanymore,butI’llchecktheapartmentjustincase.”Iforcedasoothingnoteintomyvoice,eventhoughIwantedtohuntdownthefuckerandflayhimalive.“Stayhere.”
Ipulledonapairofglovesandswepttheapartmentforothersignsofdisturbance.Ididn’tfindany,butI’dhavetodoamorethoroughchecklater.
Fornow,IneededtogetStellaoutofhere.
Ireenteredthelivingroomandsnappedtheglovesoffmyfingers.Thesweephadsettledsomeofthebankedrageinmygut,butthesightofStellacurleduponthecouch,herkneesdrawntoherchestandherfaceblank,broughtitroaringback.
“Everythinglooksclear,butyou’removingintomyplaceuntilwesortthisout.”Myvoicewasevenbutfirm.
Ishould’velistenedtomygutandinsistedshemoveinwithmeafterthefirstnote,butIhadn’twantedtopushhertoofar,toosoon.
Butnowthatthecreephadgottenintoherapartment,inmybuilding…
Myhandflexedagain.
Iwantedtowrapitaroundthethroatoftheperpetratorandsqueezethelifeoutofthemwhilehebeggedformercy.Iwantedtowatchthelightdrainfromtheireyesattherealizationofhowbadlythey’dfuckedup.
Thesoothingimagesoftheirtorturematchedthemetallictasteofbloodonmytongue.Icouldalreadytaste
thevengeance.
OnceIfoundthebastard,Iwasgoingtoenjoymakingthemregreteverysecondoftheirmiserableexistence.
IbreathedthroughthecoldnessmountinginmychestandfoldedtheletterintoaneatsquarethatItuckedintomypocket.
IkneltinfrontofStellasowewereateyelevel.
“Myapartmentisairtight.Noone
cangetinwithoutmypermission.You’veseenthesystemsIhaveinplace,”Isaid,myfacesoftening.“You’llbesafethere.Doyouunderstand?”
Afteralongsilence,sherespondedwithatiny,almostimperceptiblenod.
Movement.
Weweremakingprogress.
Whenwearrivedatmyapartment,ItookStellatotheonlyguestroomequippedwithbedroomfurniture.
SinceIneverallowedovernightguests,I’dturnedtheothersintosomethingmoreuseful:acyber-surveillancecenter,asecondofficeforvideoconferences,anextraclosetformysuits.
Withitsking-sizebed,walk-incloset,andensuitebathroom,theonerealguestroomcould’vepassedforamasterbedroom,butStellasankontothebedwithoutexamininghernewsurroundings
“Getsomerest,”Itoldher.“I’lltakecareofmovingyourthings.”
Noresponse.
IrecognizedshockwhenIsawit.AsmuchasIwantedtostaywithher,thebestthingIcoulddowasgivehertimetoprocesswhileIsortedeverythingelseout.
MyfirstorderofbusinessafterIleftherroomwasanothercalltoBrock,whoIorderedtobringuptheessentials—nightclothes,toiletries,thatuglyunicornStellalovedsomuch.
MynextcallwastotheMirage’schiefofsecurity.
Charlespickedupafterhalfaring.“Sir?”
“Iwantallthesecurityfootagefromthepastdaysenttomewithinthehour.”Idispensedwiththenicetiesandrubbedmythumbovertheturquoiseringinmypocket.
NomatterhowcoldthetemperatureorhowlongIleftituntouched,thestonewasalwayswarm.
“Ofcourse.Forwhichcamera?”
“Allofthem.”Stellalivedonthetenthfloor,buttheperpetratorhadtohaveenteredandleftelsewhereinthebuilding.
“All
ofthem?Sir,that’s—”
“Someonebrokeintomygirlfriend’sapartmenttoday,Charles.”Myeasytonedidn’tmatchthedangerrisingbeneathitssurface.“Youmustknowthatalreadysinceyou’remyheadofsecurity.Perhapsyouevenhavealeadonwhobrokein.Sotellme.WhichcamerasshouldIlookatifnotallofthem?”
Silencethunderedforabeatbeforeheresponded.“I’llhaveittoyouinthirty.”
“Good.AndCharles?”
Anervousswallowrattledtheline.“Yes,sir?”
“Fireeverysecuritypersonnelwhowasondutytoday.”
IhungupbeforeIhadtolistentohistediousprotests.
ThesecurityteamattheMiragewasgood,buttheyweren’tirreplaceable.TherewasareasontheywereguardingabuildingandnotmyVIPclients.
Andiftheycouldn’tevendothat
right,thentheyhadnobusinessbeinginmyemploy.
Iprovidedmystaffwithexceptionalpayandbenefits,butIexpectedexceptionalworkinreturn.
BrockshowedupsoonaftermycallwithCharleswithaduffelbagandtheunicorn.Hesetthemdowninthelivingroombeforeheturnedandranahandoverhisbuzzcut.
“Boss,I—”
“You’redismissedforthenight.”
Myangerhadcooledenoughformetorecognizethatitwasn’tBrock’sfaultthestalkerhadsnuckintoStella’sapartment.Hisjobhadbeentokeepaneyeonher,notherhouse.
Still,myirritationransharpenoughtoturnmywordsintoblades.
ReliefspreadacrossBrock’sfacebeforehetensedagain.“Justforthenight,right?Notforever?”
Mylipsthinned.
“Right.Gotcha.”Henoddedandhoofeditoutthedoor.“G’night.”
Iexhaledalong,slowbreathandpinchedthebridgeofmynose.
Sometimes,Itrulydespisedpeople.
Andobjects.
Iglaredattheraggedystuffedanimalpollutingmylivingroom.Ididn’tunderstandwhyStellaloveditsomuch,orwhyherfollowerswouldrathercuddlewithitthanme
—Ihatedcuddling,butitwastheprincipleofthematter—butsinceshedid,Iswallowedmydistasteandtookittotheguestroomalongwithherluggage
“Youhaveavisitor.”Idroppedthething
onthebednexttoherandresistedtheurgetoLysolmyhands.
Stellablinkeddownattheunicornbutdidn’ttouchit.
“Figuredyou’dwantitscompany.”ThoughGodknowswhy.“Ialsobroughtsomeofyourclothesandtoiletries.”
Astrangeawkwardnessprickledmyskinathercontinuedsilence.
Fuck
,Ihatedthis.Lessthananhourinmyhouse,andshe’dalreadythrownmefurtheroffmyequilibrium.
Butthediscomfortwasworthknowingshewassafe.
Rightnow,Ididn’ttrustanyoneoranythingtoprotectherexceptmyself.
Iclearedmythroatandnoddedatherbathroom.“Ahotshowermightmakeyoufeelbetter.Washofftheday.”
Noresponse.
ThelessStellareacted,themorethepressureinmychestexpanded.
Ididn’tknowwhereitcamefrom,butIloatheditasmuchasIloathedpolyester,incompetence,anddessert.
Sinceshedidn’tseeminterestedinmovingonherownanytimesoon,Iopenedthebathroomdoortostarttheshowerbutimmediatelygrimaced.
Christ.
Ihadn’tenteredthisbathroomsinceImovedinyearsago,soIassumedthefoulsmellhadsomethingtodowiththelong-unuseddrain.
Myhousekeeperkeptthemarblefloorsandcounterssqueakyclean,butshehadn’tsaidadamnthingaboutthesmell.
Couldnoone
dotheirjobright?
MyteethclenchedasIworkedthroughmyoptions.
Obviously,Stellacouldn’tusethisbathroomuntilIfixedthesmell.Therewereotherguestbathsavailable,buttheyalsohadn’tbeenusedinawhile
Afteraminuteoftorturedindecision,Iwalkedtomyprivatebathroomandturnedonthebathtubfaucets.IsilentlycursedtheuniverseasIopenedanunusedbottleofbubblebathIdidn’tevenrememberbuyingandslowlypoureditintothewater.
Youreallyknowhowtofuckaguyover.
Ididn’tknowhowthehellIendedupdrawingabathforsomeoneelselikeadamnnineteenth-centuryattendant,butatleasttherewerenowitnessestomyindignity.Ifanyonesawmelikethis,Iwouldneverliveitdown.
Stelladidn’tprotestwhenIreturnedtotheguestroomandcarriedherintomybathroomalongwithhertoiletries.Isetherdownonthecushionedbenchnearthetubandtiltedmychinattheeucalyptus-scentedbath.
“AllyoursuntilIfixasmallissueinyourbathroom,”Isaid.“There’salsoaguestbathacrossthehallandtoyourleftifyouneedtousethetoiletatnight.”
Iturnedandwasalreadyhalfwayoutoftheroomwhenshestoppedme.
“Christian.Idon’t…”Hersmallvoiceshotanarrowstraightthroughmyribs.“Idon’twanttobealonerightnow.”
Goddammit.
Myhandcurledaroundthedoorknobuntilthemetalsearedintomyflesh.
“Whatareyousuggesting?”Myvoicepitchedlowwithawarningshedidn’theed.
DespitemystrangedesiretoshieldStellafromdanger,Iwasn’taprotectorbynature.Myversionofprotectionalwayscamewrappedinthepiecesofasnuffed-outlifeandtiedwithabloodybow.
Unfortunatelyforher,shewastooinnocentandtrustingtorecognizetruedangerwhenshesawit.
“Canyoustaywithme?”Embarrassmentcoloredherrequest.“Justfortonight.”
Mymusclestightenedatthesuggestion.Iturned,takinginherpalefaceandthewarywaysheeyedthetub,likesheexpectedamonstertoemergefromitsdepthsandswallowherwhole.
“Thebathroomisclear,andI’llberightoutsidethedoor.”
Iwasn’timmunetobadideas,butstayingintheroomwithherwhileshebathedmightbetheworstideathathadeverexisted.
“Iknow.Ijust…”Stellafaltered.“No,you’reright.Thatwas…Idon’tknowwhatIwasthinking.”
Ashiverwrackedherbody.Shedidn’tmovefromthebench.
Iclosedmyeyesforabriefmomentwhilemysilentcursesaimedattheuniverseescalated.
Ishouldn’t.Ireallyfuckingshouldn’t.
I’dalreadycrossedalinebybringingherintomyhouseandintomyfuckingbathroom,
butthelookonherface…
Iturnedmybackagain,loathingmyselfmorewitheverysecondthatpassed.
“Letmeknowwhenyou’reready.”
Despitemycurttone,abreathofrelieftouchedmybackandmademyjawclench.
Ididn’tshiftpositionsuntilIheardthesplashofhergettingintothetub.
Stellawasnakedinmybathroom.
Undernormalcircumstances,mybrainwould’velatchedontotheobvious—therosybloomofhercheeks,thewayherskinglistenedwithwater,thefantasyofthesweetcurvesthatlaybeneaththebubbles.
Instead,adeepachesettledinmychestathowsmallandvulnerableshelookedinthatgianttub.Nolongertheoasisofcalmshepresentedtotheworld,butastormonthevergeofbreaking.
Shereachedforhershampoo,butIstoppedherbeforeshemadecontact.
“I’lldoit.”
InsteadofarguinglikeI’dexpected,StellaremainedquietuntilIpulledthebenchtotheedgeofthetubanduncappedhershampoo.
“Yoursuitwillgetwet,”shemurmured.
Ididn’tsparemycustomBrioniaglance.“I’llsurvive.”
Iwashedherhair,cleaningeachstrandwithpainstakingmeticulousnessandmassagingherscalpwithfirm,deepstrokesuntilshesankagainstthesideofthetubwithhereyesclosed.
Herlashessweptagainsthercheeksinadarkfan,andherbreathsgraduallyevenedoutintoasteadyrhythm.
Heatsteamedupthemirrorsanddrenchedtheroominasultryhaze.
Wearingasuitinahotbathroomwasfuckinghell,butIdidn’tbotherremovingmyjacket.
ItwasmyfirsttimetouchingStellaforsuchanextendedlengthoftime,andIwasgoingtosavoreverysecond.
Itwasn’tsexual,butthesimpleglideofherhairagainstmypalmsslowedmypulsetoatorturouscrawlbeforekickingitintooverdrive.
Touchingherkilledme,thenbroughtmebacktolifeagain.
Thequietroarofmyheartthrummedinmyears.Irinsedouttheshampooandworkedtheconditionerintoherstrands.
TheironyofmecleaningStellawasn’tlostonme.ShewasthepurestsoulIknew,andIwasneck-deepinblood.
Theangelandthesinner.
Twooppositionalforceswithnothingbindingusexceptasheetofpaperandtheunquenchableneedinmysoul.
Ididn’tdeservetotouchher,butIwantedhertoomuchtocare.
AfterIfinishedwashingherhair,Ipickedupherloofah,dippeditinthewater,andlathereditup.
Thegentlelapofthewateragainstthetubtightenedlowinmygut.
“Leanforward.”Restraintroughenedtheedgeofmyvoice.
Stellaobliged.
Irantheloofahoverherback,myeyestrackingeveryinchofitsslowjourneydownhersmooth,bareskin.
TheairpulsedwithtangibleenergyasIdraggeditupoverhershoulderandacrossherfront.Lowenoughtoskimthetopsofherbreasts,buthighenoughtokeepthingsappropriate.
Stella’sbodywenttautwhenmyarmbrushedherneck.Ipaused,pickingupontherenewedrapidnessofherbreaths.
Itsrhythmwasdifferentthistime—heavier,moreweighted.
Heatsparkedinmygut,andIstoodsoabruptlyshejumpedatthemovement.“We’redone.”
Therewassomethingfuckedupaboutlustingoversomeonewhowastraumatized,evenforme.
Iyankedabathrobeoffwhereithungonthewallandhelditopen,myeyesavertedandmyjawtight.
Afterabeatofhesitation,Stellaclimbedoutofthetubandslippedintoit.
Icinchedthebeltsotightitelicitedasmallgasp,butatleasttheoversizedrobecoveredherfromhernecktohercalves.
Idriedherhairbrisklyandwasabouttopushherthroughthebedroomandintothehallwhenherearlierrequestresurfacedinmymind.
Canyoustaywithme?Justfortonight.
AnewsetofcursesscorchedmytonguebeforeIswallowedthem.
“Doyouwanttostayhereforthenight?”Iaskedgruffly.
Shehuggedherarmsaroundherwaistand,afteranothermomentofhesitation,nodded.
Fuckmylife.
Still,Ipulledbackmycoversandnoddedatthebed.“Getsomerest.We’lldealwitheverythinginthemorning.”
Itwasearlyintheevening,butexhaustionlinedherfaceandcastshadowsbeneathhereyes.
Ilefttheroomtograbhernightclothessoshecouldchangeintosomethingmoresleep-friendly,butbythetimeIreturned,Stellawasalreadyfastasleep.ItwasthemostatpeaceI’dseenherinweeks.
I’dneverletanotherpersonsleepinmybedbefore.Ithoughtthesightofhernestledamongsttheblackandgraysilkswouldbestrange,butitfeltright.
Iplacedtheclothesonthenightstandnexttoherandtriedtocatchuponwork,butmybraincouldn’tfocus.
Withmybuildingsecuritycompromised,theincompetentbutannoyingshitsatSentinelbreathingdownmyneck,andathousandemailstowadethrough,allIcouldthinkaboutwasthewomansleepingafewfeetaway.
She’dbeeninmyhouseforlessthantwohours,andshewasalreadywreakinghavoconmylife.
Irubbedahandovermyjaw,myaggravationatwarwithmydesiretoprotectheratallcosts.
I’dbeenwrong.
Stellawasn’tadistraction.Shewasadanger—notonlytomybusinessbuttomyselfandthepartsofmeIhadn’tknownstillexisted.17
STELLA
Iwoke
tosunshineandthefaintscentofleatherandspice.
ThatwasthefirstsignsomethingwasamisssinceIexclusivelyusedlavenderscentsinmybedroom.
Thesecondsignwasthecolorofthesheets.Slategraysilk,luxuriousinitssimplicityandrumpledwithsleep,butafarcryfromthesoftcreamonesI’dboughttwoyearsago.
ThefogofsleeplingeredasIstaredatthedentinthepillownexttomineandtriedtopiecetogetherwhathappenedlastnight.
Iwasclearlyinaman’sroom.Thedarkcolorsandthewatchandcufflinksonthenightstandwereadeadgiveaway
HadIgoneoutdrinkingandhookedupwithsomeoneattheirplace?Unlikely
HadIstayedthenightatAva’splace?Butherguestroomsdidn’tlooklikethis,and—
“You’reawake.”
Ascreamclawedupmythroatattheunexpectedvoicebehindme.
Iwhippedaround,myheartthunderingwithpanicuntilthespeakersteppingoutofthebathroomcameintofocus.
Darkhair.Whiskeyeyes.Chiseledface.
Christian.
Thiswashisroom.WhywasIin—
Yesterday’smemoriesslammedintomesofastandhardtheyknockedthebreathfrommylungs.
Thenoteinmybedroom,callingChristian,movingintohisplace,himbathing
me…
OhGod.
Dreadandmortificationcurdledinmystomach.Iwould’vethrownuphadIeatenanythingmorethanacroissantyesterday.
“Youdidn’twanttobealone,soIletyoustayinmyroomforthenight.”Christianstraightenedhissleeve.Itwaseightinthemorning,buthewasalreadydressedinoneofhissignaturesuitsandloafers.Hishairwasperfectlystyled,hisfacesharpandclean-shaven.“Thatwasaone-timeexception,givenwhathappened,butyou’llbesleepingintheguestroomfromnowon.It’sthereforareason.”
Ifrowned,tryingtoreconcilethecoldmaninfrontofmewiththeonewho’dcarriedmetohisroomandtakencareofmeyesterday.
AflushsluiceddownmyskinwhenIrememberedtheheatofhisbodybehindmeandthegrazeofhistouchagainstmybareskin.
Ithadn’tbeensexual,andI’dbeentooinshocktoreactmuchatthetime,butthememoryignitedasoftburnthatwarmedmefromtheinsideout.
Christian’seyesdarkenedlikehecouldseestraightintomymind.“Breakfastwillbeservedinhalfanhour.I’llseeyouthen.”
HewalkedoutbeforeIcouldrespond
Iguesshewasn’tamorningperson.
AheadachethrobbedbehindmytempleasItriedtomakesenseofthepasttwenty-fourhours.
Yesterdaymorning,Iwokeupinmyownbedfeelingfairlyoptimisticaboutthestalkersituation.
Now,IwaslivinginChristianHarper’shousebecausethestalkerbrokeintomine.
Whoevertheywere,theyknewwhereIlivedandcouldbreakintooneofthemostsecurebuildingsinthecity.
Fearslowedthebeatsofmyheart.
It’sfine.You’refine.
MaybetheycouldbreakintotheMirage,buttheycouldn’tbreakintoChristian’spenthouse.Right?
Ireachedformynecklace,onlytorealizeIwasn’twearingone.
Christianhadbroughtonlytheessentialslastnight,whichmeantmycrystalsweresittingdownstairsinmyroom.
Thebiteoffearintensifiedatthethoughtofreturningtomyoldapartment.I’dlovedthatapartment,butIcouldn’timaginegoingbackafterthebreak-inshattereditssanctity.
IhatedmystalkerfordestroyingthatpeacealmostasmuchasIhatedhimforthenotes.
Afteralltheseyears,Istillcouldn’tunderstandwhyhe’dtargetedme.Wasitmysocialmediapresence?Mylooks?OrwasIjustunluckyenoughtocatchtheattentionofsomecreepwhohadtoomuchtimeonhishands?
Iforcedadeepinhaleintomylungs
Everything’sfine.You’llbefine.
Itwasbroaddaylight,andChristianwasrightoutside.Asmoodyashewas,hewouldn’tletanythinghappentome
Ididn’tknowwhy,butIfelttheconvictionofthatinmygut.
You’llbefine.
IrepeatedthereassuranceinmyheadasIwenttotheguestroom—a.k.a.mynewroomfortheforeseeablefuture—andchangedoutofmybathrobeintoday-appropriateloungewear.
WhenIenteredthediningroom,Christianwasalreadyseatedattheheadofthetablewithacupofcoffee,apen,andthatmorning’snewspapercrossword.
Thetableitselfgroanedbeneaththeweightofafullbreakfastspread.Glasspitchersofcoffee,juice,water,andteagleamednexttoplattersofeverytypeofbreakfastitemimaginable:eggspreparedsixdifferentways,crispybacon,fluffylemonricottapancakesandBelgianwafflesandFrenchtoast.
Croissants,muffins,andsconesfilledtwolargewovenbaskets,whileamake-it-yourselfsmoothiebowlsectionboastedeveryfruitandtoppingIcouldthinkof.
Itwasabuffetfortwenty,nottwo.
“Areyouhostingabrunchparty?”Iasked,uncertainwhyanyoneneededthis
muchfoodforthemselves.
“No,butNinawentallout,soyoumayaswellenjoyit.”
BeforeIcouldaskwhoNinawas,around-facedwomanwithadarkbunandcheerfulsmileenteredtheroom.
“I’mNina.”ShegaveChristianadisapprovingglancebeforeshehandedmeaglassofsomethinggreenandcreamy.“Wheatgrasssmoothie,right?”
Irelaxedbeneaththewarmthofherfriendliness.“Yes,thankyou.Howdidyouknow?”
ThismustbeChristian’shousekeeperslashpart-timechef.I’dnevermether,thoughIknewshewastheonlypersonwhohadthekeystohishousebesidesme.
“Mr.Harpertoldmeitwasyourfavorite.”ShewinkedatmewhileChristianglaredather.
“That’llbeallfornow.Thankyou.”Hispolitedismissalonlyhalfmaskedtherazor’sedgerunningbeneathhisvoice.
Ninasuppressedwhatlookedlikealaughbeforesheleft.
“Iseecaffeinehasn’timprovedyourmood.”Iloadedaplatewithfoodandsatnexttohim.“I’dhopeditwouldbringDr.Jekyllback.Mr.Hydeisn’tdoingitforme.”
He’dalwaysbeenonthealoofside,butIfeltthedistancebetweenusvividlythismorning.
“Funny.Iseeanightofsleephasimprovedyourmood.”Christianfoldedthecrosswordandsetitasidebeforeheadded,“Howareyoufeeling?”
“Hungry.Ihaven’teatensinceyesterdaymorning,”Iadmitted.
Iknewthatwasn’twhathewasreallyasking,butIdidn’twanttotalkaboutthenoterightnow.Ijustwantedtoeatandpretendeverythingwasnormal.
Itoreoffapieceofmycroissantandpoppeditinmymouth.Asighofpleasureroseinmythroat.
Croissantswereagiftofheaven.Iwassureofit.
“Good.Iwasn’tsurewhatyouwereinthemoodfor,soIhadNinamakeabitofeverything,”hesaid,histonegruff.
Warmthflickeredtolifeinmychest
Igavehimashysmile,touchedbythegestureeventhoughhewasn’ttheonewho’dcookedthefood.
Afainthintofpinkcoloredhischeekbones.
Washe…blushing?
BeforeIcouldmakesenseofthestaggeringsight,thepinkdisappeared,andChristian’sfaceturnedtograniteagain.
“Sinceyou’rehere,weshouldgoovertherules.”
Mybrowfurrowed.“Okay…”
“You’reherebecauseyou’reindanger,andsinceyou’renowfullyundermyprotection,weneedtotakeappropriatestepstosecureyoursafety,”hesaidcrisply.“Stayinghereuntilwecatchthepersonwho’sbeenleavingyouthosenotesisthefirststep.Myteamwillmovetherestofyourbelongingsintoday.Whileyou’rehere,youwillsleepintheguestroomandadheretothehouserules.Nobringingfriendsormenover…”Hisvoiceicedatthewordmen.
“Andnotouchingunrecognizabledevices.There’safifty-fiftychancetheycouldkillyou.Otherthanthat,considerthisyourhomefortheforeseeablefuture.”
Fifty-fiftychancetheycouldkillme?
Whatkindofdevicesdidheown
?
“Oh.”Iforcedabrightsmile.“Well,whocanresistawelcomelikethat?Youreallyknowhowtomakeagirlfeelallwarmandfuzzy.”
Christianignoredmysarcasm.“It’sgoodthatyou’renotpostingwhereyouareinrealtime,butIwantyoutowaittwenty-fourhourstopostinsteadofyourusualthreetofour.Varyyourscheduleandkeepitunpredictable,includingtheroutesyoutakehome.Youwillalsohaveabodyguard.Brockwilllookafteryouwhenyou’renotwithme.He’llbeunobtrusive;youwon’tevenknowhe’sthereunlessyouneedhelp.Finally…”
“Oh,good.Iwasafraidthatwasit.Goon.”
“Youhavetotellyourfriendsthetruth.”Christianfixedmewithahardstare.“Iftheydon’tknowyou’reindanger,theycaninadvertentlyput
youindangerorbeindangerthemselves.Ignoranceisn’talwaysbliss.”
Mysmilefaded.AprotestworkeditswaytothetipofmytonguebeforeIsquashedit.
Christianwasright.
AsmuchasIhatedmakingmyfriendsworryandhavingabodyguardwatchingeverymoveImade—similartoastalker,thoughwithlessnefariousintentions—Ineededtheprotection.
Plus,Icouldn’thavemyfriendsthinkingeverythingwasokaywhenitwasn’t.
Whatifthestalkertargetedthemwhenhecouldn’tgettome?IwouldneverforgivemyselfifsomethinghappenedtothembecauseIdidn’tgivethemproperwarning.
Mynailsdugangryhalf-moonsintomyknees.
Cool,calm,collected.
Cool,calm,collected.
“Okay,”Ifinallysaid.“I’lltellthem.ButIhaveafewrulesofmyown.”
Ifthisnewlivingarrangementwasgoingtowork,Ineededsomesayinit.Christianwasthesecurityexpert,butthiswasmy
life.
“Ofcourseyoudo.”DrynessfilledChristian’svoice.Nodoubtherememberedmyinsistenceonincludingmyownsetofrulesinourfakedatingarrangement.
“Thisisyourhouse,andI’llrespectyourrules.ButIalsoaskthatyourespectmyprivacy.Thatmeansnocomingintomyroomwithoutpermission,evenwhen—especially
when—I’mnotthere.Don’tgothroughmybelongingsevenifthey’reinacommonspace.Don’ttellmewhereIcangoorwhoIcanseeunlessit’sadirectthreattomysafety.And…”MyteethsankintomybottomlipasIcontemplatedmylastrequest.
“And?”Heraisedadarkbrow.
Mynailsdugdeeperintomyskin.“Nobringingwomenhome.Idon’tcareifyousleepwiththem,buttheycan’tbeherewhileI’mhere.It’snot…itwon’tlookright.”
Exclusivitywasimpliedbutnotexplicitlystatedinourcontract.Ihadnoissuemaintainingcelibacy,butIdoubtedIcouldsaythesameforsomeonelikeChristian.Heprobablyhadwomenflingingthemselvesathimeveryday,regardlessofhisrelationshipstatus.
AstrangetwistwrungmyheartandleftitouttodrywhenIpicturedhimwithanotherwoman.
Itoldmyselfithadeverythingtodowithkeepingupappearancesandnothingtodowith…anythingelse.
Christian’samusementdisappearedbeneathpoolsofamberice.“Idon’tcheat,Stella.”
“It’snotcheatingwhenwe’renotreallydating.”
WhatwasIsaying?Itwasn’tlikeIwanted
himtosleepwithotherwomen.Itwastoorisky,and…
Mystomachcramped.Imust’veinhaledmycroissanttoofast.
Tick.Tick.Tick.
Iwatchedthemusclejumpinhisjawwithnervousfascination.Christian’sangerwasarollingwave,slowandinsidiousasitswallowedeverythinginitswake.Butwhenhespokeagain,histonewasassmoothandplacidasasummerlake.
“Noted.”
Noted
?Thatwasthevaguestanswerhecould’vegiven,butIwastooapprehensivetoaskforclarification.
Wedidn’tspeakagainfortherestofthemeal.
Thatafternoon,whileChristianworkedinhishomeofficeandthemovershauledtherestofmybelongingsupfrommyapartment,IexploredtheeightthousandsquarefeetofbachelorluxurythatwouldbemyhomeforGodknewhowlong.
Icamehereeveryweektotakecareofhisplants,butIleftimmediatelyafter.Inevertookthetimetostudymysurroundings.
Christian’spenthousetookuptheentireeleventhflooroftheMirage,whichwasashighasbuildingsgotinD.C.duetothecity’sheightlimit.
Lightgraymarblefloors,blackleatherfurniture,floor-to-ceilingwindowsofferingathree-hundred-sixty-degreeviewofthecity.Thehousereflectedtheman:sleek,exquisitelydecorated,andbeautifulinawaythatwascoldbutimpersonal.
Hehadthelavishtouchesonewouldexpectfromsomeoneofhiswealth,suchasaprivaterooftoppoolandastate-of-the-artgymdownthehallfromtheden,butmyfavoriteroomwasthelibrary.
Pilesofcushionsturnedthedeepwindowsillsintosunnyreadingnookswhilemodernorangecouchesaddedanunexpectedpopofcolor.Hundredsofbookslinedthecustomizedblackshelves,andIcouldtellbytheirwornspinesthatChristianactuallyreadtheminsteadofusingthemasprops.
ThatwaswhereIchosetobitethebulletandcallmyfriends.I’dbeenputtingitoffallday,butIcouldn’tstallmuchlonger.
IcalledAvafirst.BridgetlivedinEldorrawithplentyofprotection,andJulesalreadyknewaboutthestalker,soitwouldn’ttakelongtoupdateher
“Hey!”Despitemyless-than-idealcircumstances,Ava’sbrightvoicemademesmile.“What’sup?”
Alot.
“Notmuch.Areyouhome?”Iwantedtomakesureshewasn’tintransitwhenIdroppedthebombshell.
“Yep,justgotback.”Iheardtheclosingofadoorandafaintmasculinevoiceinthebackground.IassumeditwasherfiancéAlex.
IfeltbetterknowingAvahadAlexbyherside.
AlexVolkovwasaforceofhisown,andwhilehemademeabituneasy—Iwasalmostcertainheharboredpsychopathictendencies—hewouldputhislifeonthelinetoprotectAva.
“Great.”Itwistedthebottomofmyshirt.Ishould’vescriptedhowIwouldbreakthenewstoher,butitwastoolatenow.“Howwaswork?”
“Fun,butbeyond
busy.WehaveourannualBestOffeaturecomingup,and…”
Ihalflistenedasshetoldmeaboutherlatestphotographyassignment,herupcomingwedding,andmyDelamontedeal.
IneededtodiscussthecontractwithBrady,butwitheverythingthat’dhappenedoverthepasttwenty-fourhours,it’dcompletelyslippedmymind.
ClosingtheDelamontedealhadconsumedmeformonths.NowthatIfinallyhadit,itwasbarelyabliponmyradar
Theuniversehadamessed-upsenseoftiming.
“WhatelseisgoingonbesidesDelamonte?HowarethingswithChristian?”Avaasked.“Youhaven’tpostedabouthimsincetheartgalleryphoto.Thatwassupercute,bytheway.”
Thereitwas.TheopeningI’dbeenlookingfor.
MyphoneslippedagainstmypalmasIforcedmynextwordspastthelumpinmythroat.
“Aboutthat.I,uh…”Icoughed.“Imovedinwithhimyesterday.’
Therewasabeatofsilencebeforeadisbelieving“What
?”boomedovertheline.
Iwincedandheldmyphoneawayfrommyear.Forsomeonesosmall,Avahadapowerfulvoice.
“Youmovedin
withhim?Ithoughtyouwere…”Shedroppedhervoicetoawhisper.Alexmustbenearby.“Onlyfakedating.Whyareyousuddenlylivingwithhim?”
“That’stheotherthing.”Mychestexpandedwithadeep,fortifyingbreath.“I…”
Ihaveastalker.
Thewordssatonthetipofmytongue,butIcouldn’tgetthemout.
I’dbeenkeepingmysecretforsolong,theideaofsharingitwithmyfriendsmademyheartkicklikeatrappedanimalagainstitscage.
ChristianandJulesknewthetruth,butonlyoutofnecessity—ChristianbecausehefoundmethenightIdiscoveredthenote,Julesbecausewe’dlivedtogetherwhenthestalkermadehisfirstappearance.Andshedidn’tknowthestalkerwasback.
“I,um…”Justsayit.
Istoodandpacedtheroom,toorestlesstosit.“ImovedinbecauseI…Ihaveastalker.Andhebrokeintomyapartmentyesterday.”
Thewordsfinallyspilledoutandlandedonthefloorwithaheavythud.Theforceofitreverberatedthroughmybones,buttheensuingsilencewassothickIcouldtasteitovertheline.
“What?”Avabreathed.Softerthistime,anddizzywithshock.
Istoppednexttothepottedfern.Theearthysmellsofsoilandgreeneryworkedtheirwayintomylungs,groundingmeandgivingmethefortitudetoexplainthesituation.Istartedwiththenotesfromtwoyearsagoandendedwithmydiscoveryyesterday.
ThemoreItalked,theeasieritwas,thoughawhisperofuneaselingeredinmystomach.Ihatedworryingmyfriends.
“Sothat’swhyImovedinwithChristian,”Ifinished.“It’sthesafestthingtodowhilethestalkerisstillontheloose.”
Irubbedanabsentmindedthumbovermynecklace—amethyst,forcalmingenergiesandstressrelief.I’dhunteditdownimmediatelyafterthemoversbroughtmystuffup.
IneededallthestressreliefIcouldget.
“Yes,but…”Avablewoutasigh.“I’msorry.Istillcan’tgetoverthepartwherethisstartedthreeyears
ago,andyoudidn’ttellme.Thisisn’tasecretboyfriendor…orasidegigmoonlightingasadancer,Stella.You’remybestfriend,andyourlife
wasindanger.”Shedidn’tsoundangry;shesoundedhurt,whichwasevenworse.“Iwould’vehelpedyou.”
“Therewasnothingyoucould’vedone.Ifanythinghadhappenedtoyoubecauseofme,Ineverwould’veforgivenmyself.”
Anotherlongpause.“DoJulesandBridgetknow?”
Myteethsankintomybottomlip.“Julesknowsaboutthefirstbatchofletterssincewewerelivingtogetheratthetime.Bridgethasnoclue.Thenotesstoppedcomingafterafewmonths,”Iadded.“Soitwasn’tanissuefortoolong.”
Untiltheyrestarted.
“God,”Avabreathed.“Thisisbananas.”
“Notmorebananasthangettingkidnappedbyyourboyfriend’spsychouncle,right?”Ihidmynerveswithashakylaugh.
Despitehersunnydemeanor,AvahadlivedthroughmoretraumaticeventsthanIhave.
“Right.Theycouldmakesoapoperasoutofourlives,”shesaiddryly.“Listen,juststaywithmeuntilyoucatchthisguy.Alexwon’tmind,andhe’llsortthingsout.Actually,letmegethim.”Sheraisedhervoice.“Alex,canyoucomeoverhere?Ihave—”
“No!Don’ttellhim.”InvolvingAlexinsomethinglikethiswasabad
idea.Hewasasliabletomurdersomeoneashewastohelpthem.“I’vegotthisundercontrol.Besides,Christianisthesecurityexpert,andyouhaveenoughonyourplatewiththewedding.”
“Screwthewedding—crap.Holdon.”Avamust’vecoveredthespeakerbecauseherwordsbecamemuffled.“No,honey,ofcourseIstillwanttogetmarried!IwastalkingtoStellaaboutthe,um,weddingplanner…no,don’t
fireher.She’sgreat.Iwasjustfrustratedinthemoment.Bridalnerves,youknow.I’mfinenow.Yes,Ipromise…whydidIcallforyou?Uh,I’mcravingthosenewraspberrylemoncookiesfromCrumble&Bake.Canyoupleaserundownandgetsomeforme?Thankyou!Loveyou.”
Avareturned,soundingbreathless.“Sorryaboutthat.Alexhasbeensoonedgeaboutthewedding.Hemadeourfloristcrytheotherday.”Shesighed.“We’reworkingonhisinterpersonalskills.”
Usually,bridesweretheoneswhoobsessedovereverydetail,butAlexwastypeAtoafault.
“Anyway.”Avaturnedseriousagain.“Areyousureyoudon’tneedhelp?IknowChristianprobablyhasithandled,butAlexknowseveryone.”
“Yes,I’msure.There’snoneedtodragmorepeopleintomymessthannecessary.”
Thesituationhadalreadyballoonedoutofcontrol,withthemoveandabodyguardandGodknewwhatelse.ThelastthingIwantedwasforittoturnintoevenmoreofacircus.
“You’renotdraggingusanywhere.Wewant
tobethere.You’reourfriend,Stella,”Avasaidgently.“Ifyou’reindanger,wewanttohelp.That’swhatfriendsdo.That’swhatyouwoulddoforus.”
Aknotofemotionformedinmythroat.NataliaandIweresistersbyblood,butAva,Jules,andBridgetweremyfamilybychoice.
We’dbeenthereforeachotherthroughthehighestofhighsandthelowestoflows,andevenifI’dshieldedthemfromtheworstinmylife,justknowingtheyweretherehelpedmemakeitthroughtheday.
Sometimes,allweneededwastheknowledgesomeonesomewherecaredaboutus
“Iknow.IfIneedanything,I’lltellyou.Ipromise.”
“Okay.”Despiteherpalpablereluctance,Avadidn’tpresstheissue.“Staysafe.AndI’mnotjusttalkingaboutthecreepsendingyounotes.”
I’malsotalkingaboutChristian.
Shedidn’tsayit,butIheardherloudandclear.
“Iwill.”Itookanotherdeepbreath.“Ihavetogo,butIloveyou.”
IcouldtellAvawantedtosaymore,butsheheldback.“Loveyoutoo.”
Ihungup.
Onedown,twomoretogo.
IcalledJulesnext.Shewasgoingtolosehershit,butshealreadyknewaboutthestalker,somaybeshe’llloselessofhershit?
Oh,whowasIkidding?Iwouldbeluckyifshedidn’tshowupatmydoorwieldingamacheteandaplantoscoureveryneighborhoodinD.C.untilwefoundthem.
“Hey,J,”Isaidwhenshepickedup.“Areyouhome?You’renotnearanysharpobjects,areyou?Good,becauseIhavesomethingtotellyou…”18
CHRISTIAN/STELLA
Ispent
thedayreviewingthesecurityfootagefromyesterday.Therewerehoursofuselessvideo,butIkeptcomingbacktothesamespot—ahalf-hour“technicalglitch”whichcoincidedwithStella’striptothecoffeeshop.
Thestalkerhadnotonlybrokenintoherapartment;they’dalsohackedintotheMirage’sclosed-circuitsurveillancesystem.Itshould’vebeenimpossible,butthethirtyminutesofstaticthat’dreplacedwhatshould’vebeenacrystal-clearviewofthehallwayoutsideStella’sapartmentconfirmedit.
I’dalreadyorderedafullemergencyoverhaulofthebuilding’ssecuritysystem.Everycodechanged,everynookandcrannysweptforevidenceoftampering.Theyallcamebackclean,whichmeantonething.
It’deitherbeenaninsidejob,orthestalkerhadinsidehelp.
Mybloodicedattheprospect.
EveryemployeehadtopassextensivescreeningsbeforeIhiredthem,butlifechanged.Allittookwasadebtoralovedoneindangertomakeapersonvulnerabletobriberyandpersuasion.
Iwouldknow;Iwasoftentheonedoingthebribingandpersuading.
Ieasedabreaththroughmylungsandshruggedoffmyfurywithasubtlerollofmyshoulders.
Therewasatimeandplaceforbusiness.DinnerwithStellawasn’tit.
IwasalreadyrunningasecondroundofchecksoneveryonewhoworkedattheMirageandHarperSecurity.Iwouldknowbytomorrowwhetheranyonehadweaknessesoutsiderscouldexploit.
Untilthen,I’dkeeptheuglydetailsoftheinvestigationtomyself.
Outwardly,Stellahadbouncedbackfromthebreak-in,butshewasgoodathidinghertrueemotions.
Evenherclosestfriendsthoughtshewasunflappablewhenthesignsofheranxietyweresoclear—thewayherbreathingchangedandhereyesdarkened,thewayshetwistedhernecklacearoundherfingerwhenevershewasupset.
Shedidn’tshowanyofthosesignsnow,butthatdidn’tmeanshe’dputwhathappenedbehindher.It’donlybeentwenty-fourhours,forfuck’ssake.
“Bytheway,LuisatoldmeabouttheDelamontedeal,”Isaid,fillingthelullinourconversation.“Congratulations.”
Sincethemealstarted,she’dtalkedabouteverythingexceptthebreak-in.Shehadn’tevenmentionedhowherfriendstookthenews,notthatIcared.Ionlycaredthattheydidn’tendangerherbydoingsomethingstupid.
Butifshedidn’twanttotalkaboutwhathappened,Iwouldn’tforceherto.
Insteadofsittingnexttomelikeshe’dhadatbreakfast,sheoccupiedthechairattheotherendoftheeight-persontable.
Thedistanceirkedmemorethanitshouldhave,butatinysmiletouchedmylipswhenhereyesbrightenedatthementionofDelamonte.
“Thankyou.Ican’tbelieveIgotthedeal.Istillneedtotalktomymanagerandsignthecontract,but…”Hersmiledimmed.“Well,youknowwhathappened.Anyway.”Sheclearedherthroatandtookasipofherwater.“I’mexcited.Thecampaigncanopenalotofdoorsforme.”
“Isthatwhatyouwant?Toworkwithbrandsfulltime?”
Fromalogicalstandpoint,movingStellaintomyhousewasoneoftheworstdecisionsIcould’vemade.
Shewasmybiggestdistraction.Myweakness.
ThatwaswhyI’dtriedtokeepmydistancethatmorning,butIdidn’tfuckingappreciatehertellingmeshedidn’tcareifIwentoutandfuckedotherwomen.
LikeI’dbeenabletofocusonanyotherwomansinceImether.
I’dlastedlessthanadaytryingtostayawayfromher.
“Ithinkit’sgoodfortheshortterm,”Stellasaidinresponsetomyquestion.“I’mnotsureit’ssustainableforthelongterm.Iactually…”
Iwaitedwhileindecisionplayedacrossherfeatures.
Itwasthelookofsomeonewhohadasecrettheyweredesperatebutafraidtotell.
“Imight
startmyownfashionbrandeventually.It’snotasurething,”sherushedout.“JustanideaIhad.We’llsee.”
Myeyebrowsrose,moreinintriguethansurprise.
Stellastartingafashionlinemademoresensethanherworkingatamagazine.
Somepeoplewereleaders,otherswerefollowers.Stellamightthinkshewasthelatter,butshewastootalentedandshonetoobrightlytobehemmedinbyotherpeople’sexpectations.
“Ithinkit’sagreatidea.”
Sheblinked,clearlystartledbymyresponse.“Really?”Shesoundeddoubtful.
“You’vealreadybuiltonebrandwithyourblogandsocialmedia.Buildingasecondshouldn’tbehard.”Mymouthtilted.“Correction.Itshouldn’tbeas
hard.”
Stella’sbrowfurrowed.“Ineverthoughtaboutitthatway.”
“Trustme.Evenifyoudon’thaveaphysicalproductyet,you’reprobablyfurtheralongthanyouthink.”Shehadtheindustryandmarketingknowledge,whichwasoftenthehardestpart.Creatingtheactualproductwaseasy.“Doyouhaveabusinessplan?”
Mycalmquestionbetrayedthehuminmyblood.
Iwasdraggingouttheconversation,butthiswasthefirsttimeweweretalkingaboutsomethingreal,somethingotherthanmywork,herstalker,andourarrangement.
Stellasharedmostofherlifeonline,butIwantedtohearaboutitinherwords.Iwantedtounderstandthewayshethought,felt,andsawtheworld.
Iwantedtounraveleverythreadthatmadeherher
andlaythemallbaresoIcouldexaminethem.Figureoutwhatitwasaboutthiswoman,inparticular,thatentrancedmewhentherewerethousandswhowereobjectivelyjustasbeautifulandwhodesiredmemore.
“Doessketch,sew,andprayforthebestcount?”
Anothersmilethreatenedtobloomatherhopefultone.“Impressive,butI’mafraidyou’llrequiresomethingmoreconcrete.”
Shesighed.“Iwasafraidofthat.Icandothecreativestuff,butIhatemath.Anythingmorethanbasicaccountinggoeswayovermyhead.”
“Whenyouhitacertainlevelofsuccess,youcanhiresomeonetorunthebusinesssideofthingsforyou.Untilthen…”Itappedmyfingersonthetable.Once,twice.“I’llhelpyou.”
Thewordshoveredbetweenus,asshockedbytheirexistenceasIwas.
Betweentheinsideleak,herstalker,andSentinelbreathingdownmyneck,Ialreadyhadamillionthingsonmyplate.Ididn’tneedtoaddafuckingfashionlinetothemix.
Butnowthattheofferwasoutthere,Icouldn’ttakeitback.
And,ifIwerebeinghonest,Ididn’twantto.
Stella’seyeswidened.“You’ll
helpme.Personally?”
“Ibelievethat’simpliedbythewordI’ll,
yes.”
“Why?”
“Doesitmatter?”
Shehitchedastubbornbrow.
Isighed.“I’mnotwritingtheplanfor
you,Stella.I’llsendyouatemplateandreviewitasyougo.Itwon’ttakemuchtime.”
Dependingonhowherdraftwas,itmighttakeawholefuckinglotoftime,butIkeptthattomyself.
“Plus,IcansayIwastherefromthestartwhenyoubecomethenextbigthing,”Iadded.
“Yousoundsosurethat’llhappen.”
“Iam
sure.”I’dwitnessedbusinessescomeandgoovertheyears.Theonesthatthrivedwereoftenledbypeoplewiththesamequalities:creative,passionate,disciplined,andwillingtolearn.
Stellahadallthosequalitiesinspades.Shejustneededtodiscoverthatforherself.
Hershy,answeringglancesentastrangewarmthspiralingthroughmychest.“I,um,actuallysketchedoutafewdesigns.Doyouwanttosee?”
Mysmilefinallyblossomedinfull,slowandlanguid.“I’dloveto.”
Silenceensconcedourwalktoherroom,whereshepulledastackofpapersfromherdeskdrawerandhandedthemtome.
“IwantedalinethatfitsthetypesofclothesIalreadycoveronmyaccount.Highqualitywithamixofpricepointsfordifferentconsumers.Andlotsofdresses,”sheadded.“Ilovedresses.”
HerteethsankintoherbottomlipasIexaminedthesketches.
“They’rejustdrafts.”Shetwistedhernecklacearoundherfinger.“Ihaven’tsketchedinawhile,soI’mrusty—“
“They’rebeautiful.”
Stella’ssketcheswerelushandintricatelydetailed,fullofrichcolorsandperfectlycutsilhouettes.TheyweredesignsthatbelongedontherunwaysofMilanandParis,notstuffedinthecornerofaroominD.C.
Shefaltered.“Really?”
“Yes,andIdon’tlietosparepeople’sfeelings.Iftheywereterrible,I’dsayso.They’renot.”Ihandedthesketchesbacktoher.“You’retalented.Don’tletanyone,includingyourself,tellyouotherwise.”
Stella’slipspartedafractionatmywords.
Itwasatinymovement,butmyeyeslatchedontoitlikeamagnettosteel.
Theairthickened,suffocatinguswithatensionthattickedlikeabombwaitingtoexplode.
“Doyouunderstand?”Myvoicewaslow,butitburnedbetweenuslikekindlingdousedwithgasoline.
Avisibleswallowdisruptedthedelicatelinesofherthroat.
“Yes.”Thesoftexhaleofherreplybrushedmyskinandtuggedlowonmygroin.
Shewassoclose.
Icouldendthegamenow,bendhertomywillandstoketheembersofattractionbetweenusuntiltheyignitedintoflames.Giveheratasteofwhatshecouldhaveifshesuccumbedtotheinevitabilityofus.
Everything.
“Good.”
Idippedmyheadand,inasubtle,almostunconsciousmovement,mylipstouchedhers.
Twoseconds.Onesyllable.Anelectricinstantthatscorchedeveryinchofmyskin.
Somewhereinthedistance,asheafofpapersflutteredtothefloor.
IinhaledStella’ssoftgasplikeitwasmylastounceofoxygen,andagroanworkeditswayupmythroatathersweettaste.
Itwasbarelyakiss.Wehadn’tevenmoved,yetourbriefcontactconsumed
me.
Theairinmylungs,thebeatinmyheart.
Inthatmoment,Stellawastheonlythingthatexisted.
Ibreathedherin.Exhaled.Andpulledback.
Westaredateachother.
Ouralmostkisshadlastednomorethanafractionofaminute,yetwewerebothflushedandpantinglikewe’drunamarathon.
Surpriseandsomethingweightierdarkenedhereyesintoemeraldpools.
“Christian…”Thesoundofmynameonhershallowbreathpouredluststraightintomyveins.
Mygrointightened.
Icouldn’tbelieveIhadahard-onafterafewsecondsofchastecontact,yetherewewere.
“Ourfirstbusinessmeetingisnextweek.Comeprepared.”Irolledupmysleeves,mycoolvoiceatoddswiththeflameslickingmyskin.Whendiditgetsofuckinghotinhere?“Goodnight,Stella.”
Ileftbeforeshecouldrespond.
EverymoleculeofmybodydemandedIstayandfinishwhatI’dstarted,butitwastoosoon.Someonebrokeintoherhouseyesterday,forGod’ssake.
Still,whenIsteppedintomybathroomandturnedthewaterascoldasitwouldgo,theburninmybloodremained.
***
March
31
I…
What.Just.Happened.19
STELLA
Aweek
afterImovedintohishouse,IdiscoveredChristian’sdirtylittlesecret.
Inadarkcornerofhisden,tuckedbetweenDVDsofReservoirDogs
andTheGodfather,
heownedacollector’seditionofSpiceWorld.
Thatwasright.ChristianHarper,theCEOofHarperSecurityandpossiblythemostterrifyingmanI’devermet,ownedaspecialeditionofamoviefeaturinganinetiesgirlbandthat,coincidentally,wasoneofmyfavoritesfornoreasonotherthanitspurecampiness.
Ididn’tknowpeoplestillownedDVDs,butIwasn’tgivinguptheopportunitytorewatchoneofmychildhoodobsessionsonhisstate-of-the-artflatscreen.
BasedonwhatI’dobservedofhisschedule,Christianwouldn’tbehomeforanothertwohours,soIallowedmyselftoletloose.
Isanganddancedalongtothemovie,onlystoppingtotakeabiteoftheicecreamsittingonthecoffeetable.
Iwasn’tthegreatestsingeror
dancer,soIprobablylookedridiculous,butIwastoohappytocare.
It’dbeenagoodday.
I’dofficiallysignedthecontractwithDelamonte,andourfirstshootwasscheduledfornextweekinNewYork.Itwasasmallshoot,hencetheshortnotice,butIwasexcitedtostartthepartnershipandvisitthecityagain.
I’dalsofinishedanothersetofsketchesandstartedfillingoutthebusinessplantemplateChristiansentme.Itwasn’tasboringasI’dfeared,thoughsomeparts,likethefinancialanalysisandproductionplan,gavemeaheadache.
Neitherofusmentionedouralmost/sortofkisssinceithappened.We’dkeptourconversationsstrictlytosmalltalk,work,andmyfashionline,whichwasjustfinewithme.
Infact,thingshadbeenso
normalbetweenusIquestionedwhetherthe“kiss”reallyhappened.Maybeit’dbeenafigmentofmyimagination,bornofthesamecrazinessthat’dcompelledmetoshowhimmysketches.
I’dnevershownthemtoanyonebefore.
Meanwhile,fearsofmystalkerhadreceded,lockedbehindthebulletproofglassandsteel-reinforcedwallsofChristian’spenthouse.IfIthoughttoomuchaboutit,theanxietycamerushingback,butIwasbusyenoughthatIdidn’thave
tothinkaboutit.Icouldlosemyselfinmybubbleofself-delusionfor…well,notforever,butforawhile.
So,likeIsaid,it’dbeenagoodday.
Ispun,anicecreamspooninmymouthandfeetbareagainstthecoolmarblefloors.
IwassocaughtupinmysonganddanceIdidn’tnoticeanyonehadentereduntilIglimpsedadarkfigureonmynextspin.
Asurprisedscreamexplodedintotheairbeforemybrainprocessedthelean,muscledframeandtailoredsuit.
Thespoonclatteredfrommymouthtotheflooranddrippedmelteddulcedelecheicecreamdownthefrontofmyshirt.
“NottheusualgreetingIreceivefromwomen,butanimprovementtoyourprioryodeling.”Despitethewryinsult,amusementsoftenedthefinelychiseledlinesofChristian’sface.
Hiseyes,however,wereanythingbutsoft.Theywerebladesswathedwithblacksilk,theiredgessocoldtheyburnedhotagainstmyskin.
Theytracedthelinesofmythroatdownmytorsotomybarelegsandfeetbeforeslidingbackuptomyface.
Slowandleisurely,likeacattoyingwithamouse.
AllthewhileIheldstill,afraidanymovementwouldslicemeopenandbaremywild,beatinghearttotheelectricair.
Iwassuddenlyhyperawareofhowshortmyshortswere,howmuchskinmycroppedsweatshirtbared,andhowridiculousImustlookwithgeleyepatchesonmyfaceandleave-inconditionerslickedinmyhair,tosaynothingofthefactthatI’dbeendancingandbeltingalongtofreakingSpiceGirlsinhislivingroom.
Mortificationchasedtheflamesleftbehindbyhisscrutiny,butIclungtothetatterededgesofmydignitywithbloodiedfingertips.
“Iwasn’tyodeling.
Iwasexercisingmyvocalcords.”IbentandretrievedthestickyspoonfromthefloorasgracefullyasIcould.“IalsothoughtIwasalone.Younevercomehomethisearly.”
“Ididn’trealizeyoupaidthatcloseattentiontomyschedule.”Thevelvetydrawlbrushedagainstmyskinlikethemostsensualofcaresses.
Christianpeeledawayfromtheshadowsandwalkedtowardme.Heworehead-to-toedesignerbusinesswear,butthosebrightambereyesandthepredatorygracewithwhichhemovedremindedmeofapantherlazilystalkingitsprey.Abeastdrawingouttheinevitablebecausehe’dgrowntiredoftheeasewithwhichhecapturedwhathewanted.
“Idon’t,butwe’velivedtogetherforaweek.Idon’thavetostudyyourcomingsandgoingstoknowyourschedule.”
Christianwasanearlyriser.SowasI,butbythetimeIwentuptohisrooftopforsunriseyogaeverymorning,Ialreadyheardhisshowerrunningandsmelledcoffeebrewinginthekitchen.
Heleftatseven-thirtyonthedotandreturnedtwelvehourslater,lookingaspolishedaswhenhe’dsteppedoutthedoor.
Itwasunnatural.
Thump.Thump.Thump.
Mypulsebangedagainstmywristandchestandinmyearswhenhestoppedinfrontofme.
Spiceandleather.Crispblacklinesandsilvercufflinks.Intimidatingintheirperfectionbutcomfortingintheirfamiliarity.
“DoyouknowwhyIcamehomeearlytoday?”Christianliftedhishand,andforanexhilarating,terrifyingsecond,Iexpectedhimtocupmybreast.
Instead,herubbedhisthumboverthespotoficecreamabovemychest.
Thelighttouchscorcheditswaythroughmyveinsandpooledbetweenmylegs.
“No.”Ibarelyheardmyselfoverthestormbrewingintheair.
Thesoundsfromthemoviehadlongfaded,replacedbythefranticdrumofmyheart.
“Wehaveanappointment.”Amusementfilledhiseyesatmyfrown.“Ourfirstbusinessconsultation.”
Iblinked,mybraintoohazytoprocesshiswordsinrealtime.
Businessconsultation…
I’llscheduleaweeklymeetingandaddittoyourcalendar.Comeprepared.
“Oh.Oh.”
Mybusinessplan.TheoneI’donlyhalffilledout.
Realitywashedthefilmofpheromonesoffmyvisionandreturnedmybreathstonormal.
“Ihaven’tcompletedityet,”Iadmitted.“It’sonlyhalfdone.”
ThinkingthroughwhatIwantedformybusinesstooklongerthanwritingitdown.
Ibracedmyselfforalectureoratleastasighofdisappointment,butallChristiansaidwas,“Letmeseewhatyouhavesofar.”
Iretrievedthepapersfromthecoffeetableandhandedthemtohim.
Thephantomofhistouchlingeredonmyskin,butthetensionfromearlierdissolvedintonervesasIwaitedforhisfeedback.
Afteraninterminablesilence,hehandedthedocumentbacktome.“Good.”
“Good?”
That’sit?
“Yes,good.Theexecutivesummaryisclearandsuccinct,andyou’veclearlydoneyourmarketresearch.Itcoulduseafewtweaks,butwe’lldothatafterthefulldraftiscomplete.”Hislipscurved.“Ididn’texpectyoutoputtogetherafullplaninoneweek,Stella,especiallysinceyouhaven’tdoneonebefore.”
Reliefloosenedtheknotinmychest.“Youcould’vetoldmethatearlier.Younearlygavemeaheartattack!”
Iwasthestudentwho’dalways
completedherhomeworkontime.Thethoughtofmissinganassignmentmademyskincrawl.
Disappointment.Failure.
Ishookofftheinsidiousvoicesbeforetheycoulddigtheirclawsintome,buttheirechoesremained,dampeningmyenthusiasm.
“IfItoldyou,wouldyouhavegottenasmuchdone?”
Isighedathislogic.“Probablynot.”
“Exactly.”Christian’sgazeslidtotheTV.“ThoughI’msorryIinterruptedyourthrillingSpiceGirlsperformance.Youtrulymissedyourcallingasagirlbandmember.”
Inarrowedmyeyes,wellawarethatmymiddleschoolmusicteacherhadoncecomparedmyvocalskillstothatofadyingcat.
Shehadn’tbeenaveryniceteacher
“Myperformancewasforme,notyou.Youwereintruding.”Iremovedmyunder-eyepatchesascasuallyaspossible.Betweenthesinging,dancing,andicecream,I’dembarrassedmyselfenoughwithouthavingoneofthepatchesslideoffonitsown.
“It’smyhouse.”
“It’sstillpolitetoannounceyourpresence.”
“Iwould’ve,butIwastoofascinatedbythesightofyoustumblingaroundmylivingroomlikeadrunkenbabyelephant.”Laughterrumbledfromhischestatmyindignantgasp.Iwasn’tthebestdancer,butIwasabetterdancerthanadrunkenelephant.
Probably.Maybe.“Inacharmingway,ofcourse.”
Mydignitywouldneverrecoverfromthis.
“Ofcourse.Thatmakesmefeelsomuchbetter.”IliftedmychinandswitchedsubjectsbeforeIexplodedfromsheermortification.“Speakingofperformances,IhavemyfirstDelamontephotoshootnextweek.InNewYork.”Christian’slaughterdieddown,thoughtracesofamusementlingeredaroundhismouth.“Dates?”
Itoldhim.
“Noted.We’lltakemyjet.”
Istaredathim,sureI’dheardwrong.“You’recomingwithme?”
“Thewordwe
doesimplythat,yes.”
Inpublic,hewassopoliteandfriendly,butinprivate,hecouldbeasarcasticass.
“Don’tyouhaveabusinesstorun?”Hemusthavemoreimportantthingsonhisplatethanaccompanyinghisfakegirlfriendtoaphotoshoot.
“Ifmybusinesscan’tsurvivetwodayswithoutme,thenIhaven’tdonemyjobasCEO.Nottomention,yournotsofriendlysecretadmirerisstillontheloose.Chancesareslimhe’llfollowyoutoNewYork,butwedon’twanttoriskit.”
“Brockcanaccompanyme.Ilikehim.He’snice.”
Granted,I’dmethimonceandneversawhimagain,butIfelthiswarm,reassuringpresencewheneverIleftthehouse.Havingabodyguardwasn’tasbadasI’dimagined.
Plus,Iwasn’ttemptedtohavesexwithhim,whichwasabigplus.
Christian’sexpressiondidn’tshift,butthetemperaturesuddenlyplungedtwentydegrees.
“Brockwillnotbeaccompanyingyou.Iwill.”HiswordscontainedsomuchfrostIcould’veusedthemtocarveanicesculpture.“Hisjobistostayoutofsightandkeepyousafe.Nothingelse.Hashebeendoinghisjob,Stella?”
Isenseditwasatrickquestion.
“Yes?”Iventured.
Ididn’tknowwhatraisedChristian’shackles,butIdidn’twanttogetBrockfired.
“Good.”
Iwasbeginningtohatethatword.
Icrossedmyarms,bothtohidehowunnervedIwasandtoshieldmyselffromthearcticwavesofChristian’sdispleasure.
“Baddayatwork?”Iasked.“Orismorphingintoamercurialbeastpartofyournighttimeroutine?”
Hisonlyresponsewasthepressofhisgazeonmyskin.
I’dbeenjoking,butnowthatIlookedmoreclosely,Iobservedtinysignsofstress.Tensiontautenedthebladeofhisjaw,andasmallfurrowcreasedhisbrow.Hisbodyhummedwiththedark,restlessbuzzoffrustration.
“Baddayatwork?”Irepeated,softerthistime.
IexpectedChristiantobrushoffmyconcern.Tomysurprise,heansweredfrankly.“Difficultclient.”
“Iimagineyoudealwithalotofthose.”
HarperSecurity’sclientlistwasawho’swhoofCEOs,celebrities,androyalty.Thatwasatonofegoforonecompanytohandle.
“Notasmuchasyou’dexpect.”Heslidoutofhisjacketanddrapeditoverthebackofthecouch.Hisshirtstretchedtautoverhisbroadshoulders,andhismusclesflexedwitheverymovement.
Stop.Nowis
notthetimetoogle.
“Ifsomeoneinsistsonbeingapain,weshowthemthedoor,andthey’reneverallowedbackin.Irunasecuritycompany,notadaycare.Idon’thavetimetobabysitinflatedegos.Thatbeingsaid…”Awrynotecreptintohistone.“Someegosareattachedtousefulcontacts.ThisclientispissedbecauseIsignedacontracttoprovideservicestotheircompetitor.He’sthreateningtopullhisaccountifIdon’tdumpthecompetitor.”
Grownmenweretrulypettierthanhighschoolers.“Iassumehe’sabigclient?”
“Oneofmybiggest.”
“Youdon’twanttolosetheaccount,butyoualsodon’twanttotarnishyourreputationorsetabadprecedentbycuttingtheotherloose,”Isurmised.Ichewedmylip,thinkingitover.“Imean,it’saprideissue.Hedoesn’twanthiscompetitortohavewhathehas,sowhydon’tyouofferhimsomethingextra?UpgradehimtoaVVIPpackageandmakeitclearhiscompetitordoesn’thavethesamelevelofaccess.”
VIPwasthestandardforhisclients,butVVIPwasthenextlevel.
“Idon’thaveaVVIPpackage.”
“Nowyoudo.Atleastmakehimthink
youdo,”Iamended.“Throwinsomeextrasecurityfeatures,takehimoutfordrinks.Tellhimtokeepthepackagequietbecauseit’savailableonlytoaveryselectfew.Kindoflikeasecretclub.It’llsoothehisego,andhe’llbethrilledbecausehehassomethingoverhiscompetitor.Peoplelikethatjustwanttofeellikethey’rebetterthansomeone.”
ItwasalessonI’dlearnedafteryearsofworkinginthefashionworld.
Christianexaminedmewithafaintsmile.“Perhapsyouhavemorebusinessacumenthanyougiveyourselfcreditfor.”Hislowmurmurwrappedaroundmysenseslikealushvelvetblanket.
“Moreempathythanbusinessacumen,”Isaid,embarrassed.“I’mstillterribleatnegotiationsandaccounting.”
Learnhowtoacceptcompliments,babe.“Thankyou”isaperfectlyadequateresponse.
Jules’svoiceechoedinmyhead.
Iwastrying,butsomecomplimentswereeasiertoacceptthanothers.
“Anyway,tryitandseehowitgoes.”Iclearedmythroat.“Inthemeantime,youneedtodestress.Doyoumeditate?”
Hestaredatme.
“It’llhelpyousleepbetter.”
Silence.
Okay,then.Iguessthatwasano
“Howaboutyoga?”Itried.“Wecandoittogether.I’llcoachyouthroughit.”
Christiaanlookedlikehewouldratherdrowninavatofacid.“Iappreciatetheoffer,butI’llstickwithahotshowerandsleep,”hesaiddryly.
“Showerandsleeparen’tenough.”Notwithhowdeepthefrownlineswerecarvedintohisbrow.Businessmenwereallthesame,foreverchasingthenextbigdealwithnoregardfortheirhealthuntilitwastoolate.
Isnappedmyfingers.“Okay,Ihaveanidea.Sitonthecouch.”
“I’mnotmeditating.”
“Youalreadysaidthat.”Notinsomanywords,buthissilencespokevolumes.“It’snotmeditation.Justsit.Please?”
Suspicionlurkedinhiseyes,buthecomplied.
MyhearthammeredhardenoughagainstmyribcagetobruiseasIcameupbehindhimandrestedmyhandsonhisshoulders.
Hismusclesimmediatelybunched.
“What,”hesaid,hislowvoicetwinedwithsomuchdangerItasteditinmythroat,“areyoudoing?”
“Givingyouamassage.”Iforcedmystampedingnervesbehindaveneerofcalm.Thisistohelphimrelax.That’sit.
“Don’ttellmeyou’reopposedtothose,too.”
Hisjawtightened.
Nighthaddescended,drapingthefloor-to-ceilingwindowacrossfromusininkyblack.Ourreflectionsweresosharpthewindowdoubledasamirror.
“You’regivingmeamassage.”Theinflectionofhiswordswasimpossibletoread.
“That’swhatIsaid.Now,relax.”IkeptmyvoiceaslowandsoothingaspossibleasIsmoothedmypalmsoverhisneckandshoulders.Hismusclesbunchedfurther,whichdefeatedtheentirepurposeoftheexercise.“Theother
kindofrelaxing.”
Ilovedgettingmassages,butIenjoyedgivingthemalmostasmuch.TherewassomethingsosatisfyingaboutfeelingthetensionmeltbeneathmyhandsandknowingthatI’dhelpedsomeonefeelbetter,ifonlytemporarily.
IttookawhileforChristiantorelax,buthegraduallysankintothecouchandtippedhisheadback,eyesclosed
Theairhummedwithawarenessandthemingledsoundsofoursoft,evenbreaths.
Itriedtofocusonmymovementsandnotonthepowerfulmasculineformdrapedinsouciantlybeneathme,likeapantheratrestafteralonghunt.
Christian’smusclesweresleekandsculpted,allsinuouslinesandcoiledstrength.
Likeeverythingelseabouthim,hisbodywasalethal,perfectlyhonedmachine.
Myeyesdrifteduptohisfaceandthedarksweepofhislashesagainstbronzedcheeks.
Firm,sensuallips,chiseledcheekbones,astraightbladeofanose,andajawsoperfectlycutMichelangelomust’vesculptedithimself.
Itshouldbeillegalforanyonetopossessafacelikethat.
Alockofthick,darkhairbrushedhisforehead.Unabletohelpmyself,IsmootheditbackandluxuriatedinthesoftstrandsasIgentlymassagedhisscalp.Christian’shairwastheperfectlength—shortenoughforeasymaintenance,longenoughforawomantorunherhandsthroughitwhile…
Stop.Focus.
Iswallowedpastthedrynessinthethroatandtherenewedacheinmylowerbelly.
Belowme,therhythmofChristian’sbreathingchangedtosomethingharsher,moreprimal.
Islidmypalmsdownhisneckandoverhisshoulder—
Asmallgaspslicedthroughthesilencewhenhishandclosedovermine,haltingitsmovements.TheirongripbrandedmyskinwithsomuchheatIfeltitinmybones.
“Enough.”
Roughrestraintandwhiskeyglares.
He’dopenedhiseyes,andIwasalreadygettingconsumedbythemwhenIlatchedontomytiny,remainingshredofself-survivalanddraggedmyselfout.
Ipulledmyhandoutfromunderneathhisandsteppedback,heartinmythroat,pulseracingwithpureadrenaline.
“You’reright.Thatshouldbeenough.Ihopeithelped.”Cool,calm,collected.
“Anyway,I—I’llseeyoutomorrow.Goodnight.”
Forthesecondtimethatweek,Ifledtomyroomandlockedthedoorbehindme.Iclosedmyeyesandleanedagainstthecoolwooduntilmyheartbeatsslowedtoanormalpace.
Whatwaswrong
withme?I’dnevergottensoworkedupoveraguybefore.Ievenvisitedasextherapistonceincasemylowlibidowascauseforconcern,butshe’dreassuredmeitwasnormal.Noteveryoneexperiencedsexualattractionallthetimeorinthesameway.
Unless,apparently,theylivedwithChristianHarper.Icouldn’tpinpointwhathadchanged.
I’dalwaysthoughthewasattractive,butmyreactionstohimhadn’tbeenthisintenseorfrequentuntilhefoundmeafterthefirstnote.Sure,thenightofthegalahadbeenintense,butIthoughtthat’dbeenafluke.
Maybemybrainwasconfusedandthoughtourfakerelationshipwasreal?OrmaybeIwasmistakinggratitudeforsomethingdeeper.
Whateverthereason,Iwishedthestrangefeelingswouldgoaway.
Ibrushedmyteethandclimbedintobed,butsleepremainedelusivethankstothepersistent,throbbingacheinmycore.
Finally,Icouldn’ttakeitanymore
Islippedmyhandbetweenmylegs,andmymouthpartedinasilentgaspatthefirstbrushofmyfingersovermyclit.
Ididn’tneedsexualreleaseoften,butthatonetouchignitedmonthsofpent-upfrustrationuntiltheonlythingthatmatteredwaschasingsweet,headyrelief.
MybackarchedoffthemattressasIplayedwithmyclitwithonehandandmynipplewiththeother.Iwashypersensitiveafternottouchingmyselfforsolong,andsparksofpleasureracedthroughmybody,lightingeverynerveendingonfire.
Smallwhimpersmingledwiththeslipperysoundsofmyfingersagainstmyclitwhileafamiliareroticfilmunfoldedinmymind.
Metiedup,theroughscratchofropesabradingmyskinwhileafacelessstrangerhadhiswaywithme.
Handscollaringmythroat,bitesonmyskin,andahard,relentlessrhythmthatwrenchedinhibitedscreamsfrommythroat.
DarkfantasiesIonlyindulgedinbeneaththecoverofnight.
I’dneverdisclosedthemtopreviousloversbecauseI’dbeentoonervoustosharethemandbecauseIdidn’ttrustthemtocarryoutthescenariosthewayIwanted.
Ironically,inmyfantasies,itwasneverabouttheman.Myphantomloverhadremainedfacelessalltheseyears,anamorphousfigurewhodidn’trequireanidentitytoprovidemewithwhatIwanted—thesafelossofcontrolandanoffswitchfortheceaselessworriesplaguingmybrain.Nothingbutthesharpstingsofpleasureandadjacentpain.
Butaswetnesssoakedmyfingersandthepressurebuiltbetweenmythighs,thefacelessfigurecameintofocusforthefirsttimesincemyfantasiesstarted.
Goldenbrowneyes.Lethallysoftsmile.Aheatedbrushoflipsagainstmineandaruthlessgripthatdugintomyskinwithjustenoughpressuretomakemyheadswim.
TheknotofpressureexplodedwithsuchforceIdidn’thavetimetoscreambeforeItumbledovertheedge,sweptupinwaveafterwaveoforgasmicblisswithnothingtoholdontoexceptvisionsofwhiskey,roughhands,andamanIshouldn’twantbutcouldn’thelpcrave.20
STELLA
Iavoided
ChristianwiththedeterminationofanescapedconvictfleeingtheFBIintheweekleadinguptoNewYork.
Itwassurprisinglyeasy,givenhowearlyheleftinthemorningandhowlatehereturnedatnight.Isuspectedhemightbeavoidingmeaswell,andIhalfexpectedhimtobackoutofaccompanyingmetotheshoot.
Nosuchluck.
ThemorningofmyDelamonteshoot,Ifoundmyselfthirty-fivethousandfeetintheair,sittingacrossfromamanwhoseemedashellbentonignoringmeasIdidhim.
Exceptforacourteousexchangeofgoodmornings,
wehadn’tspokentoeachothersinceweleftthehouse.
IsippedmylemonwaterandsnuckapeekatChristian.Hewasworkingonhislaptop,hisbrowfurrowedwithconcentration.Hisjacketlayontheseatnexttohim,andhe’dpushedhisshirtsleevesuptorevealhiswatchandtanned,muscularforearms.
HowhadInotrealizedhowsexyforearmswereuntilnow?
IstaredatwherehisPatekPhilippeglintedagainsthisbronzedskin.Juleswasright.Therewassomethingaboutmenwearingwatches…
“Somethingonyourmind?”Christiandidn’tlookupfromhiscomputer.
Ihadn’tbeendoinganythingwrong,butmyheartbeatscollidedlikehe’dcaughtmestealing.
“Justthinkingabouttheshoot,”Ilied.Itookanothersipofwater.
BetweenthetensionontheplaneandmyDelamonteshootthatafternoon,IwassurprisedIcouldkeepanything,evenliquids,down.
“WhatareyougoingtodowhileI’monset?”Iasked.“GointotheNewYorkoffice?”
HarperSecuritywasheadquarteredinD.C.,butithadofficesaroundtheworld.
“I’mnotflyingwithyoutoNewYorksoIcanholemyselfupinanotheroffice.”Christiantypedsomethingonhiskeyboard.“I’lljoinyouonset.”
Surpriseballoonedinmychest,followedbyapinprickofanxiety.“Buttheshootcouldtakehours.”
“Iknow.”
Iwaitedforanelaborationthatnevercame.
Iheldbackasigh.Christianwasmoremercurialthanabrokenthermometer.
Forlackofanythingbettertodo,Isettleddeeperintomyseatandexaminedtheluxurysurroundingus.
Christian’sprivatejetresembledanairbornemansion.Butterycreamleatherseatsformedintimateseatingareas,andanelegant,cloud-likenavycarpetmuffledthestepsofthetwosmartlyoutfittedattendantswholookedlikethey’dsteppedoutofthelatestissueofVogue.
Besidesthemaincabin,thejetalsoboastedabedroom,afullbathroom,afour-personscreeningarea,andadiningtablesetwithmagnetic-bottomedplatesandsilverwareengineeredtostaystillthroughturbulence.
Itmust’vecostafortune.
Christianseemedascomfortablewithhisopulentsurroundingsassomeonewho’dgrownupwithasilverspooninhismouth,butmyresearchtoldmehehailedfromanormal,upper-middle-classfamily.Accordingtotheonlypublicinterviewhe’devergiven,hisfatherhadbeenasoftwareengineerandhismotheraschooladministrator.
“Whydidyouchooseprivatesecurity?”Iasked,breakingthesilence.“Youcould’vegoneintoanyfield.”
ChristianhadgraduatedsummacumlaudefromMIT.Hecould’vegottenajobanywhereaftergraduation—NASA,SiliconValley,theCIA.Instead,hechosetobuildhisowncompanyfromthegroundupwithnoguaranteesofsuccess,inafieldfewMITgradstouched.
“Ienjoyit.”Christianfinallylookedup,hismouthcurvingatwhateverhesawonmyface.“Rhyssaysit’smygodcomplex.Knowinghowimportantthelivesatstakeareandthatthey’reinmyhands.”
I’dforgottenRhysusedtoworkforhim.Theyweresodifferentitwashardtopicturethemexistinginthesamesphere.
Rhys,forallhisgruffness,stuckbytherules(unlessBridgetwasinvolved).Christiandidn’tseemlikehehadmuchuseforrulesatallunlesstheywerehisown.
“It’snot.”ImaynotknowChristianthatwelldespitelivingwithhim,butIknewhewouldn’tdoanythingoutofpureego.Hewastoopracticalandcalculatingforthat.
“No,it’snot.Notentirely.”Herubbedhisthumboverthefaceofhiswatch.“IfIonlywantedmoney,Icouldobtainitanynumberofways.Stocks,sellingproprietarysoftware…whichIdid,toraisecapitalforHarperSecurity.Butonceyoureachacertainlevelofwealth,moneyisjustmoney.Itdoesn’taddanyinherentvaluebeyondthatofego.What’smoreimportantisyournetwork.Access.Thepeopleyouknowandthethingsthey’rewillingtodoforyou.”Asmile,equalpartssensualanddangerous.“Onedebtowedfromawell-placedcontactisworthmorethanallthecashintheworld.”
Ashiveroftrepidationcreptupmyspine.Whathesaidmadesense,buttheway
hesaiditmadeitsoundmoreominousthanhe’dprobablyintended.
“Speakingofbusiness…”Christianswitchedtopicssoeffortlesslyittookmybrainaminutetocatchup.“How’sthebusinessplangoing?”
“Good.”Iwantedtosaymore,butthebrushofhiskneeagainstminedistractedme.
Ihadn’trealizedhowclosewe’dgottenduringourconversation.
MasculineheatanddecadentspicestoleintomylungsandfurtherdistractedmebeforeIgraspedtherestofmynear-forgottenwords.“ButIdon’twanttotalkaboutthatrightnow.Tellmemoreaboutyou.”
Hismini-speechjustnowwasmyfirstinsightintohowhismindworked.
Christianworehisexpensivesuitsandcharmlikearmor,andIwasdesperateforachink,foranyglimpseintothemanbehindthemask.
Whatwashischildhoodlike?Whatwerehishobbies,hisgoalsandfears?Whatmadehimintowhohewas?
Ididn’tknowwhyIwantedanswerstothosequestions,butIknewthetinyglimpseI’dgottenwasn’tenough.Itwastoointoxicating,likeashotoffinetequilastraighttothebloodofanalcoholic.
“I’mnotthatinteresting.”Itwasthesmooth,practicedresponseofsomeonewho’dspentalifetimelockinghisprivatethoughtsandfeelingsinsideavault.
“You’rewrong.”Ourgazeslockedliketwopiecesofapuzzleslidingintoplace.“Ithinkyou’reoneofthemostfascinatingmenI’veevermet.”
Itwasaboldadmission,onethathadhiseyesdarkeningintoarich,moltenamber.
“Oneof?”Thelanguidsoftnessofhisquestionstokedwhateverwildalchemyburnedbetweenus.Darkflamesdevouredalltheoxygeninthecabin,leavingnexttonothingformycompressedlungs.
“Tellmemoreaboutyourself,andImightpromoteyoutothetopofthelist.”
Hislaughstoleintotheremainingpocketsofairinmychest.“Touché.”
Christian’seyesdippedtomymouth,andtheremnantsofhislaughterevaporated.Blackswallowedamber,leavingnothingbehindexceptpromisesofsinanddarkpleasures.
Pinpricksofnervousenergybuzzedbeneathmyskin.ThememoryofouralmostkisswhenIfirstmovedinresurfaced,asithadabadhabitofdoingsincethatnight.
Mynailssankintomyknees,andIwaited,notbreathing,notmoving,asChristianloweredhishead—
“Mr.Harper,apologiesfortheinterruption.Butyouwantedmetoalertyoufifteenminutesbeforelanding.”
Theattendant’sgentlevoiceslicedthemomentintoathousandjaggedpieces.
Acoldwaveofoxygenrushedbackintomychest,followedbytheacridstingofdisappointmentwhenChristiandrewback.Faceblank,alltracesofdesiresnuffedasifit’dneverexistedatall.
“Thankyou,Portia.”Perfectlyeven,perfectlycalm,unliketheerraticheartbeatthunderingbehindmyribcage.
Portianodded.Hereyesflittedbetweenusbeforeshedisappearedtoanotherpartofthejet.
Christianreturnedhisattentiontohiscomputer,andwedidn’tspeakforthedurationoftheflight.
Itwasjustaswell.
Icouldn’thaveformedproperwordshadItried.IwastoounsettledbytheknowledgethatChristianHarperhadbeenabouttokissmeagain…andthatI’ddesperatelywantedhimto.
***
Asnervousas
IwasabouttheDelamonteshoot,IwasgratefulforthedistractionfrommytangledfeelingstowardChristian.
Iwantedhim,butIdidn’twanttodatehim(oranyoneelse).
Welivedtogether,butwebarelykneweachother.
Theworldthoughtweweredating,butwe’dbarelykissed.
Thecontradictionswereenoughtodriveagirlmad.
OnceIreturnedtoD.C.,IneededgirltalkwithAvaandJulesASAP.Iwastoorustyintheboysdepartmenttosortthroughmymessonmyown.
But,fornow,Ihadsomethingmoreurgentthatrequiredmyattention:notscrewingupthefirstDelamontephotoshootofthemostimportantbranddealofmylife.
WhenChristianandIarrivedatthestudio,itwasalreadybustlingwithactivity.Thephotographer,makeupartist,hairstylist,andvariousassistantsandDelamontestaffrushedaround,steaminggarments,andfussingoverlightingandprops.Apopsongplayedinthebackground,butallcommotionhaltedwhenIwalkedin.
Spidersofanxietycrawledovermyskin.
IhadnoproblemdoingsolophotoshootsorbeingoncamerawhenIcouldn’tsee
peoplewatchingme.Beingthecenterofattentionatanin-personshootwasanentirelydifferentmatter.
“Stella!”Luisabrokethesilenceandgreetedmewitheffusivekissesonbothcheeks.“Youlookwonderful.AndChristian.”HereyebrowsclimbedupherexpertlyBotoxedforehead.“This
isasurprise.”
“I’minthecityforbusiness.Besides…”Christianrestedahandonmylowerback.“Icouldn’tresistattendingStella’sfirstphotoshoot.”
Helookedandsoundedsobelievableasaproud,dotingboyfriendthatIalmostforgotwewerepretending.
Almost.
“Huh.”Luisaeyedhimwithfascination.“Indeed.”
IwasmoresurprisedtoseeheronsetthanshewastoseeChristian.Asthebrand’sCEO,supervisingphotoshootswasbelowherpaygrade.
Shemust’vereadtheconfusiononmyfacebecausehereyestwinkledwithknowing.“Icouldn’tresistdroppingbyaswell.PeoplesayI’mmicromanaging,butthiscampaignismybaby.I’mdeterminedtomakeitthebestoneinDelamontehistory,andyou,mydear…”Shepattedmyhand.“You’regoingtohelpmakethathappen.”
ThesandwichIateforlunchchurnedinmystomach.
Right.Nopressureatall.
ChristianretreatedtothebacktotakebusinesscallswhileIsatthroughhairandmakeupandmeteveryoneonset,includingRicardo,thebrand’sin-housephotographer.Hewasahandsomemaninhisforties,withtannedskinandaflirtatioussmilethathebestoweduponmebeforeitfaded.
IfollowedhissuddenlywarygazetowhereChristianstoodbytheexit,hisphonetohisearbuthisattentionfixedonus.
“Yourboyfriendisanintenseone,huh?”Ricardoletoutanervouschucklebeforeheclearedhisthroat.“Nomatter.Timetogetstarted,darling.Wehavemagictomake!”
Hewascharmingenoughtopulloffsuchacheesyline,andforthenexthour,Itriedmybesttofollowhisguidance,posingandturningandcontortingmybodyintostrange,unnaturalpositionsuntilsweattrickleddownmyspine.
Thelightswereinsanelyhot,andIpicturedmymakeupmeltinguntilIresembledacrazedclown.
Also,wasitjustme,orhadRicardolostsomeofhisenthusiasm?Hisencouragingshoutsof“Gorgeous!”and“Beautiful!”hadgraduallytaperedoffinto“Turnleft”and“Toofarleft.”Soon,onlytheclicksandwhirsofhiscamerafilledthestudio.
Noonespoke,buttheweightoftheirstarespressedagainstmelikeasecondlayerofclothing.
Self-doubtcreptintothevacuumleftinthewakeoftheirsilence.
Pretendyou’reathome.Yourcameraisonatripodfacingyou.You’veperfectedthesettingsandyou’rereadytoshoot.You’vedonethisathousandtimes,Stella…
“Liftyourchinhigher.”Ricardo’sinstructioninterruptedthefantasyI’dconcoctedofbeingalone.“Dropyourhand…alittlemore…relaxthoseshoulders…”
Itwasn’tworking.
Hedidn’tsayit,butIcouldfeel
it.Thethick,sourstingofdisappointmenttaintingtheair.TheoneIwassousedtotastingwheneverIwenthome.
Iwasfinallyworkingwithmydreambrand,andIwasscrewingitallup.
Tearsgatheredbehindmyeyes,butIsetmyjawandblinkedthemback.Iwouldnot
cryonset.Icouldholdmyselftogetheruntiltheshootwasover.
Besides,thiswasonlythefirstsession.Therewerethreemore.I’llpracticebeforethenextoneandimprove…iftheykeptmeon.
Theunforgivingfistofanxietystrangledmylungs.
WhatifDelamonteterminatedmycontract?Weretheyallowedtodothat?
Mymindrifledthroughthecontract’sclauses,franticinitssearchforonethatallowedthebrandtodumpmeifIdidn’tperformuptoitsstandards
Why
hadn’tIlookedmorecloselyatthelanguage?I’dbeensoexcitedI’dsignedafteraquickcheckwithBradytoensuretherewerenomajorredflags.Butwhatif—
“Stella,darling.”ForcedpatiencestrainedRicardo’svoice.“Let’stakeabreak,shallwe?Walkaround,drinksomewater.We’llreconveneintenminutes.”
Translation:youhavetenminutestogetyourshittogether.
Lowmurmursbrokeout,andIspottedafrownonLuisa’sfacebeforesheturnedaway.
Therushoftearspressedharderagainstthedamofmywillpower.
Cool,calm,collected.Cool,calm,collected.Cool—
Warm,masculinespicefilledmynostrils.Asecondlater,thedeepblackofChristian’ssuitjacketcameintoview.
Hehandedmeaglassofwater.“Drink.”
Idid.Itcooledsomeofthesweatinchingmyspine,buttheairwasstilltoohot,thelightstoobright.Ifeltlikeabugbuzzingaroundinafluorescentbulb,tryingtoescapebeforeIburnedtodeath.
“Whatareyoudoing?”IaskedwhenChristiantookmyemptyglass,setitonthenearesttable,andreturnedtostandinfrontofme.Assessingme,thewayhewouldaprospectiveinvestmentorunsolvedpuzzle.
“Remindingyouofwhyyou’rehere.”Histonewassoftbutauthoritativeenoughtodrownoutthenastytauntscrowdingmyhead.Disappointment.Failure.Fraud.“Whyareyouhere,Stella?”
“Foraphotoshoot.”
Icouldn’tsummontheenergyforabetter,lessinaneanswer.
“That’sthewhat.
”Christiangraspedmychinandtiltedituntilmyeyesmethis.“I’maskingyouwhy.
Why,ofallthepeoplewhocouldbestandinginyourspot,areyou
here?”
“I…”BecauseI’dspentthepastdecadecultivatinganimagethathadbecomeacageasmuchasithadalifeline.BecauseIwasdeceivingmyfollowersandalmosteveryoneIknewtoachievesomestupid,arbitrarymeasureofsuccess.BecauseIwasdesperatetoproveIcould
succeedtopeoplewhodidn’tevencare.
Thicknesscloggedmythroat.
“Becausetheychoseyou.”Christian’scoolvoiceslicedthroughmymuddiedthoughts.“Everybloggerintheworldwouldkilltobestandingwhereyouare,butDelamontechoseyou.
NotRaya.Notanyoftheotherwomenatthedinnerorinthepagesofmagazines.Thisisamultibillion-dollarbrand,andtheywouldn’thaveinvestedinyouiftheydidn’tthinkyoucandoit.”
“ButIcan’t.”Mywhisperrevealedtheheartbreakingtruth.Iwasanimposter,alittlegirlplayingdressupinagrownup’sclothes.“Youseehowit’sgoing.I’mbombing.”
“Youarenotbombing.”Theguidedprecisionofhisstatementstrucktheshellofuncertaintyinmychest.Dented,butnotdestroyed.“It’sbeenanhour.One
hour.Thinkabouthowmuchtimeyouinvestedtogettowhereyouarenow.Howmuchhaveyouachieved?Howmanypeoplehaveyououtlasted?Youdownplayyouraccomplishmentsasordinarywhenyouwouldhailthemasextraordinaryonanyoneelse.”
Christiankepthisgrasponmychinashebrushedhisthumbovermycheek.HewascloseenoughIcouldspotthegoldflecksinhiseyes,likefallenstarsswimminginpoolsofmoltenamber.
“Ifyousawyourselfthewayotherpeopleseeyou,”hesaidquietly.“You’dneverdoubtagain.”
Curiosityandsomethinginfinitelysweeterandmoredangerousflutteredtolifeinmyheart.“Howdootherpeopleseeme?”
Christian’seyesdidn’tleavemine
“Likeyou’rethemostbeautiful,mostremarkablethingthey’veeverseen.”
Thewordsliteverymoleculeinmybodyanddissolvedthemintoapoolofexquisite,unbearablewarmth.
Weweren’ttalkingaboutotherpeople,andwebothknewit.
“Thisisonephotoshoot,Butterfly.”Anotherbrushofhisthumb,anothergallopofmyheart.“Thefirsthalfwaspractice.Thesecondhalfisyours.Doyouunderstand?”
ItwasimpossiblenottogetsweptawaybyChristian’sconfidence.
Insteadofaddingabricktomyworriesaboutnotlivinguptoexpectations,hisfaithinmefortifiedmeenoughtolockthoseugly,tauntingvoicesinmyheadbackintheboxwheretheybelonged.
“Yes,”Isaid,mylungstightbutmybreathingeasierthanit’dbeenallafternoon.
“Good.”Hislipsdippedandtouchedmineinthesoftestofkisses.
Itwasn’tthefirsttimewe’dgottenthisclose,butitfeltmoreeffortless.
Lessofakiss,moreofapromise.
Mynervessettledwhileeverythingaroundmedisappearedforonelongmoment.
Thenthemomentwasgone,andsowashe,butthewarmthofhispresenceandthephantombrushofhismouthlingered.
Anotherflutterdisruptedmyheartbeat.
Cool,calm,collected.
IsteeledmyspineandfacedRicardoagainwithasmile.
“I’mready.”
Ifthefirsthalfoftheshootwasadisaster,thesecondhalfwasarevelation.Whateverhadbeenblockingmeunstuck,andRicardo’srapidshutterclicksfilledthestudiowithrenewedenthusiasm.
Snap.Snap.Snap.
Andweweredone.
Ihadn’tmovedmorethanafewinchestheentiretime,yetmyheartthunderedlikeI’djustrantheNewYorkMarathon.
“Perfect!Youarestunning,
darling,despitethe,ah,rockystart.”Ricardowinkedatme.“Youweremade
forthecamera.Thefinalphotosaregoingtobegorgeous!”
“Thankyou,”Imurmured,butIbarelyheardtherestofhisgushing.
MyeyessearchedthestarkwhiteroomuntiltheyfoundChristian.
Hestoodinthebackcorner.Stillonabusinesscall,stillgorgeousinhissuitandtie,andstillwatchingmewiththoseeyesofwhiskeyoverice.
Despitethephonepressedtohisearandthehungrystaresofeverywomanandseveralmenintheroompinnedonhim,hedidn’tlookawaywhenIgavehimaplayfulwinkandsmile.
Itwasanoff-the-cuff,in-the-momentsortofthing,andnotthetypeofactionI’dusuallytakewithamanIhadbarelyevenkissed.
ButIwasridinghighaftertheshoot,andChristianwassocomposedallthetimeIwantedtoknockhimoff-kilter
Justonce,justalittlebit.
Nothing,however,could’vepreparedmeforthedevastationhislazy,answeringsmilewroughtonmyheart.
Thebutterflieslyingdormantinmystomachwentcrazy,andIsuddenlyknew,withallthecertaintyintheworld,thattheyweretheretostay.21
STELLA
Thatnight,
absentofanyotherplans,IaccompaniedChristiantodinnerathisfriendDante’shouse.
I’dmetDantebeforethenightoftheblizzard,butI’dforgottenhowintimidatinghewas.Eveninasimpleblackshirtandpants,hecommandedauthorityinawaythatwasdifferentfromChristianbutequallyaspowerful.
Christianwasafinelyhonedassassin’sbladesheathedinvelvet;Dantewasahammerburningbrightwithdeadlyintent.Lethalandstriking,withnoambiguityastothedamagehecouldinflictifcrossed.
HisfiancéeVivian,ontheotherhand,wasopen-facedandfriendly,withbeautifuldarkeyesandawarmsmile.
Strangelyenough,shewasquicktograceeveryonewiththatsmileexcept
Dante.Theengagedpairhadn’tlookedateachotheroncesinceChristianandIarrived.
“Ididn’trealizeyouweredatingChristianwhenImetyou.”Dante’sdeepvoicepulledmeawayfrommycuriosityandsentapleasurableshiverdownmyspine.Italianaccents.
Theydiditformeeverytime.“Nowitmakessense.”
HebestowedahardstareatChristian,whoyawned.
Fortwopeoplewhoclaimedtobefriends,theydidn’tactparticularlyfriendlytowardeachother.
“Whatmakessense?”Iasked.
“Howdistractedhe’sbeenlately.”Danteswirledhiswineinhisglass.“Wouldn’tyouagree,Christian?”
“Myrecordprofitsthisquartersayotherwise,”Christiandrawled.Herestedahandonmythigh,thetouchsocasualyetpossessiveitsentheatarrowingtomycore.
“It’snotyourbusinessthat’sintrouble,”Dantesaiddryly.
Christianstaredbackathimwithasmuchinterestassomeonelisteningtoaninsurancesalespitch.Herubbedhisthumbovermybareskin.Softly,justonce,butitwasenoughtocloudmythoughts.
IwassofocusedonthewarmpressureofhishandIcouldn’tfocusonanythingelse,noteventhedeliciousfood.
Whatiswrongwithme?
I’dneverlostmyheadoveraguylikethis.Itwasdisconcerting.
Viviancutthroughthebrewingtensionwithawell-timedinterruption.“YouandStellamakeabeautifulcouple.”Sheshothimanamusedglance.“IneverthoughtI’dseethedaywhenChristianHarperwouldgetagirlfriend.”
“NeitherdidI,butStellatookmebysurprise.”Thereplywassowarmandintimate,Ialmostbelievedit.
Myheartratekickedupasthebutterfliesinmystomachwentwildagain.
Itookabiggulpofwinetocalmthemdown.
It’sjustforshow.It’snotreal.
Christiandonnedcasualaffectionaseasilyashedidoneofhissuits.Therewasnoreasontobelievehisactionswereanythingmorethanplayingintoourruse.
Otherthanouralmostbutnotreallykisstwoweeksago,he’dneverindicatedhewantedustobereal.
Sure,he’dgoneaboveandbeyondwhenitcametothestalker,butthatwasliterallyamatteroflifeanddeath.Itdidn’tmeanheliked
me.
Attractedtome?Possibly,butIdidn’tthinkhewantedanythingmorethansex.
Myheadspun.Everythingfelttooconfusingafterhekissedmetoday,evenifithadjustbeentodistractmefrommynerves.
Ifirmlybelievedthatifsomeoneshowedyouwhotheywere,believethem.AndChristianhadindicatedtimeandtimeagainthathewasn’tinterestedinarealrelationship.
Thedaypeoplestoppedthinkingtheycouldchangesomeonewhodidn’twanttobechangedwasthedayfewerheartsgotbroken.
Iwantedarealrelationshiponeday,butIdidnotthinkforasecondIcouldeverchangeChristianHarper.
It’sjustforshow.It’snotreal.
Luckily,thetensionblanketingthetablegraduallydissolvedasdinnerwenton,drownedbygooddrinksandgoodfood.
Bythetimetheentréerolledaround,evenVivianandDanteweretalkingtoeachother,thoughtheirconversationsconsistedmainlyofaskingtheothertopassthefood.
Butnomatterwhowasspeaking,halfofmyattentionremainedtunedintoChristian.Hesatinchestomyright,hispresencealiving,breathingdistractionthatcrowdedmylungsandcloudedmythoughts.
Easysmiles,teasingdrawls,andskingildedgoldbythedimlightingandwine-fueledhaze.
Itwasmyfirsttimeseeinghiminsucharelaxedgroupsetting,andIfinallyunderstoodhowpeoplecouldgetsuckedintohischarmandunderestimatehim.
Forallhiscareandconcerntowardme,I’dneveroncedoubtedtheruthlessnessthatlaybeneathhiscivilizedveneer.Buthere,watchinghimlaughandjokewitheffortlessgrace,Ialmostbelievedhewasnothingmorethanawealthyplayboywithonlymoneyandgoodtimesonhismind.
ChristianturnedtoansweraquestionfromVivian,buthisthumbmadeanotherslowsweepovermyskin.
It’sjustforshow.It’snotreal.
Atinybeadofsweatformedonmyforehead.Iwaswearingasleevelessdress,butIwasburningup.
“HowdidyouandChristianmeet?”IaskedDante,bothtodistractfromChristian’stouchandbecauseIwastrulycurious.
Ihadn’tmetanyofChristian’sotherfriends(BrockandKagedidn’tcountsincetheyworkedforhim),andIwasdyingtoknowtheirbackstory.
“Iwashisfirstclient.”Danteleanedbackinhischair.“Hewasakidfreshoutofcollege—”
“You’rethreeyearsolderthanme,”Christiancutin.
Ourhostignoredhim.“Itookachanceonhim.BestandworstdecisionIevermade.”
“Worst?”Christianscoffed.“DoyourememberwhathappenedinRome?”HeturnedtomewhileDanterolledhiseyes.“Weweretransportingjewelstoanewstoreinthecity…”
AsmiletuggedonmylipsashetoldthestoryabouthowhepreventedtheRussoGroupfromlosingmillionsofdollarsworthofdiamonds.
Notbecausethestorywasfunny,butbecauseChristianwasthemostunguardedI’deverseenhim.
Hewassocalculatedandincontrolallthetimethatseeinghimrelaxaroundfriendswaslikegettingapeekbehindthecurtainattherealhim.
Itwasnice.
Betterthannice.
Ifheactedthiswayallthetime…
ItookanothergulpofwinebeforeIfinishedmythought.
Don’tgothere.
“Ifthere’sonethingyoushouldknowabouthim,Stella,”Dantesaidafterhefinished.“It’sthathehasanoverinflatedsenseofself-importance.Wecould’vehandledthejewelssituationwithouthishelp.”
“Trustme,Iknow.”AlaughroseinmythroatwhenChristianslidahalf-amused,half-exasperatedglanceinmydirection.
“Whosesideareyouon?”
“Easy.”Igrinned.“Dante’s.”
Thetablebrokeintolaughterwhilehesqueezedmythighandleanedcloseruntilhismouthgrazedmyear.
Mypulseskipped.
“Notverygirlfriend-likeofyou,”hemurmured.
“Ifyoucan’thandlealittleteasing,you’renotreadyforagirlfriend,”Iwhisperedback.
Hislaughterwoundthroughmelikearibbonofdarkvelvet.
Irelaxedintomyseatwithalingeringsmile.
Theteasing,thejoking,theopeningupabouthispast(evenifitwaswork-related)…wealmostfeltlikearealcouple.
Afterdinner,ViviantookmeonatourofthepenthousewhileDanteandChristiandiscussedbusiness.
Christian’shousewasallcleanlinesandmodernminimalism,buttheRussos’wasatastefulodetodecadence.Richvelvets,lushsilks,andbeautifullycutporcelain,allarrangedinamannerthatwasextravagantbutnevertacky.Theonlythingthatlookedoutofplacewasthehideouspaintingintheirartgallery.
Ihadgreatrespectforallcreativeworks,buthonestly,thatpiecelookedlikeacathadvomitedalloverthecanvas.
“Idon’tknowwhyDanteboughtthat.”Viviansoundedembarrassed.“Heusuallyhasmorediscerningtaste.”
Thecomplimentcameoutgrudgingly,likeshewasreluctanttoascribeanypositivequalitiestoherfiancé.
Isuppressedtheurgetoaskwhathappenedbetweenthem.
Itwasrudetopryintootherpeople’sbusiness,especiallywhentheyweremyhostsandI’djustmetthem.
WealmostmadeitbacktothediningroomwhenweheardvoicesdriftingfromacrackinDante’sofficedoor.
“…can’tkeepMagdaforever,”Dantesaid.“YoushouldbegladIdidn’tthrowitinthetrashafterthestuntyoupulledwithVivianandHeath.”
Vivianfrozewhilemybrowknitwithconfusion.
WhoareMagdaandHeath?
Whatstunt?
“It’safuckingpainting,notawildanimal.”Christiansoundedbored.“AsforVivian,it’sbeenmonths,anditworkedoutfine.Letitgo.Ifyou’restillpissed,youshouldn’thaveinvitedmetodinner.”
“Begladthingsworkedoutfine
withVivian,”Dantesaidcoldly.“If—”
HestoppedwhenViviancoughed,herfaceinexplicablyred.
Asecondlater,thedoorflungopen,revealingasurprisedDanteandanimpassiveChristian.
“Iseeyou’vefinishedthetourearly.”Dante’sdrytonecutthroughtheensuingsilence.AfaintblushcoloredhischeekbonesasheflickedhisgazeatasilentVivian.
“Sorry.”Myowncheekswarmedatbeingcaughteavesdropping.“Wewereonourwaytothediningroomandheard…”Itrailedoff,notwantingtoconfirmwe’dbeenlisteninginonhisconversationeventhoughthatwasclearlywhatwe’dbeendoing.
“Wewerejustwrappingup,”Christiansaidsmoothly.TherewasnohintoftheireI’dheardearlier.“Dante,Vivian,it’sbeenlovely.”
Isaidmygoodbyesaswell,andwerodetheelevatordowntothelobbyinsilence.Butwhenwereachedthesidewalk,Icouldn’tholdbackanymore.
“What’sMagda
?”
Nowthatwe’dlefttheRussos,Ididn’tbotherpretendingIhadn’theardthem.
Christianhadsaiditwasapainting,butIdidn’tunderstandwhyDantewasholdingitforhim.Christiandidn’tevenlike
art.
“Nothingyouneedtoworryabout.”Hiscurtreplywaschillierthanthecrispeveningairswirlingaroundus.
Thewarm,easygoingChristianfromdinnerwasgone,replacedbyhisalooftwinoncemore.
Itriedagain.“WhatstuntdidyoupullwithVivianandHeath?”Also,whothehellisHeath?
Normally,Iwasn’tthisnosy,buttonightwasmybestshotatgettingChristiantoopenup.He’drevealedasliverofwhathewaslikebehindhisperfectmaskearlier;Ijustneededtodigdeeper.
“Alsonothingyouneedtoworryabout.”
“That’snotananswer.”
Wearrivedathisbuilding,whichwasonlyafewblocksfromDante’splace
“Youknoweverythingaboutme,andIknownothingaboutyou,”Iadded.“Howisthatfair?”
“Youknowplentyaboutme.”Christiannoddedatthedoorman,whotippedhishatingreeting.“WhereIlive,whereIwork,howItakemycoffeeinthemorning.”
“EveryonecanfindthosethingsoutwithasimpleGooglesearch.Ijustwant—”
“Dropit,Stella.”Therewasnoguiseofgentlenessanymore,onlythesharpsliceofabladeshreddingmeintoribbons.“Idon’twanttotalkaboutit.”
Myjawtensed.
“Fine.”Despitemycoolreply,frustrationbubbledhotanduncheckedinsidemyveins.
ImetChristianlastyear.We’dlivedtogetherandpretendedwewereacoupleforweeks,yetIdidn’tknowasinglethingabouthimbeyondthesuperficial.
Meanwhile,heknewthingsaboutmeI’dneversharedwithanyoneelse.Myhistorywithmystalker.Myanxiety.Mydreamsofstartingafashionline.ThesmallbutimportantbitsofmylifethatI’dkeptsecretfromevenmyclosestfriends.
Itrustedhim,butheclearlydidn’tfeelthesamewayaboutme.
Somethingmorebitterwelledbeneaththefrustration.
Hurt.
Christianwasnothingifnotamasteratmakingpeoplebelieveinthingsthatdidn’texist.
It’sjustforshow.It’snotreal.
Wedidn’tspeakagainuntilwearrivedathisapartment,whereIbidhimastiffgoodnight
andretreatedtotheguestroombeforehecouldrespond.
Icouldn’tsleep,soIlaytherestaringattheceilingwhilethecool,darksilencepeeledawaymyfrustrationtorevealthehurtunderneath.
IwasmoreattractedtoChristianthanI’dbeentoanymaninyears.Notonlythat,Iwasstartingtolike
him.ThewayhecomfortedmeafterIfoundthenoteinmyapartment,thewayhissmilesspilledbutterfliesinmystomach,andtheunshakeablefaithhe’dshowninmeduringthephotoshoot…they’dallerodedmyresistancesoslowlyIdidn’trealizehowmuchofmyselfI’dbareduntilIfeltthestingofhisrejection.
Itburnedlikeacidonrawskin,anditwasmyfault.Inevershould’veletmyguarddown.
Forallmyaversiontorelationships,Iwasaromanticinmymostsecretofhearts,andIwasterrifiedthat,likeeverythingelseI’dkepthidden,Christianwouldunravelthatpartofmeuntilitwasimpossibletoputbacktogether.
Hewasdangerous,notjusttohisenemiesbuttothoseclosetohim.
AndtheonlywaytosavemyselfwastomakesureIstayedasfarawayfromhimaspossible.22
STELLA
Onestepforward,
twostepsback.
ThatsummedupmyrelationshipwithChristian.
I’dthoughtweweremakingrealprogress.Consideringhoweasilyhe’dshutmeoutafterdinneratDante’s,thatwasn’tthecase.
Ididn’tholdagrudgeoften,butit’dbeenaweeksincewereturnedtoD.C.,andIstillhadn’tshakenoffallmyhurt.
Therewasnothingmoreupsettingthanconsideringsomeoneafriendonlytorealizetheydidn’tfeelthesamewayaboutyou.Theunevenbalanceinanyrelationshipmademyskintight.
Dropit,Stella.Idon’twanttotalkaboutit.
Itwasn’tlikeI’daskedhimtospillhisdeepest,darkestsecrets.DanteknewwhathappenedwithMagdaandVivian,soitcouldn’tbethatbad.
Granted,Ididn’thaveaslongofahistorywithChristianashedid,butstill.
Iswipedmycardattheself-checkoutcounterwithmoreforcethannecessary.
I’dvisitedMaurathatmorningandstoppedbythegrocerystoretopickupmorewheatgrasspowderformysmoothiesonthewayhome.
Protip:Don’tgroceryshopwhenfrustrated.
Icameinforthepowderandwasleavingwithtwobagsofpopcorn,apintoficecream,aking-sizechocolatebar,andasix-packofGreekyogurt.
Theairconditioningwasonfullblast,butadeeper,eerierchillsweptovermyskinwhenIturnedtoleave.
Everyhaironmyarmsandthebackofmyneckstoodonend.
TheroarofbloodinmyearsdrownedouteveryothernoiseasIscannedmysurroundingswithawhiteknucklegriponmyphone.
Ididn’tseeanyonesuspicious,buttheominousshiftintheairwassotangibleItasteditinthebackofmythroat.
Someone’swatchingyou.
Thesoft,singsongwarningdriftedthroughmyhead.
Andthatsomeonewasn’tBrock,whosepresencewasinvisiblebutalwayswarmandreassuring.
Ashiverrattleddownmyspine.
Ihadn’theardfrommystalkersincethebreak-innorhadIreceivedanyupdatesfromChristian.Ihadn’taskedforthem;partofmedidn’twanttoknow.
Outofsight,outofmind,exceptthatobviouslywasn’ttrue.
Whoeverthecreepwas,hewasoutthere,probablywaitingforanotheropportunitytopounce.
Ihadn’tmentionedmymoveonsocialmedia,butIwasstilllivinginthesamebuilding.Iftheycouldbreakintomyapartment…
Stopit.He
cannotbreakintoChristian’shouse.
Hecouldn’thurtmewhenIwasinpublic,either.Brockwasthere.Icouldn’tseehim,buthewas
It’sfine.You’refine.
Still,IforcedmylegstomoveandwalkedasquicklyasIcouldbacktotheMirage.
Thechillevaporatedbeneaththeblazeoftheafternoonsoon.BythetimeIlockedthedoorofChristian’sapartmentbehindme,Ialmostfeltsillyforhowameresensationparalyzedmeinthemiddleofacrowdedgrocerystoreinbroaddaylight.
It’sfine.You’refine.
Itwistedmynecklacearoundmyfingeranddraggedslow,deepbreathsthroughmylungsuntilthevestigesoffearcleared.
Yes,mystalkerwasoutthere,buthecouldn’tgettome.
ImayhavebeenupsetwithChristianrightnow,butItrustedhimtoprotectme.
He’dfindthestalkersoon.ThenthewholesituationwouldblowoverandIcouldreturntomynormallife.
Iwassureofit.
***
Mystreak
ofsuccessfullyavoidingChristianendedthatnightwhenhecamehomesoearlythesunstillhunglowintheskyandspilledgoldenwashesoflightacrossthelightgrayfloors.
I’djustfinishedapre-interviewwithJulian,thelifestylecolumnistforWashingtonWeekly.Hewasdoinganin-depthprofileonmeandmyDelamonteambassadorship,andwe’dspentthepasthalfhourdiscussingtopicsandlogistics.
Iwassketchinginthelivingroomwhenthefrontdooropenedandeveryhaironmybodyprickledwithawareness.
Ididn’thavetoseeChristiantofeel
him.Heconsumedeveryroomhewalkedinto.
Don’tlook,don’tlook—
Ilooked.
Sureenough,therehewas,stridingacrosstheroomlikeakingtohisthrone.
Broadshoulders.Sharpcheekbones.Expensivesuit.
“Slackingoff?”Istoodandtuckedmysketchingnotebookbeneathmyarm.Ididn’tlikesittingaroundChristian.ItmademefeelatevenmoreofadisadvantagethanIalreadywas.“It’sstillbusinesshours.”
TheywerethefirstwordsI’dspokentohimsinceNewYork,andIwouldbelyingifIsaidtheydidn’tgivemeaheadyrush.
Hisstepssloweduntilhecametoahaltinfrontofme.“Ifiguredyou’dwanttocelebrate.”
Confusionpulledmybrowstogether.“Celebratewhat?”
“Youhitamillionfollowers,Stella.”Christianwatchedme,unsmiling,buthiseyesglowedwithafainthintofamusement.“Asofonehourago.”
Onemillionfollowers.
TherewasnowayI’dhitthatmilestonealready.WhenIcheckedlastnight,I’donlybeenat…ninehundredninety-sixthousand,giveortakeafewhundred.
OhmyGod.
ConsideringhowfastI’dbeengrowingsinceIstarted“dating”Christian,fourthousandnewfollowersovernightwasfullywithintherealmofpossibility.
“Ifyoudon’tbelieveme,checkforyourself.”Itwaslikehe’dreadmymind.
IdraggedmyeyesawayfromChristian’sandtookoutmyphone.AsmalltrembleshookmyhandasItappedintomyprofileandzeroedinonthenumberatthetop.
1M.
Onemillionfollowers.
Oh.My.GOD.
TherushfromseeingthatnumberwassostrongIgrewdizzy.
I’dknownitwouldhappeneventually,butactually
hittingthatmilestonewassurreal.
Athrillsizzleddownmyspine.
Ididit.
Ididit!
Agrinbrokeout,andittookallmywillpowernottojumpandscreamlikeatwelve-year-oldattheirfavoritepopsinger’sconcert.
OnemillionhadbeenthegoalsinceIstartedmyaccount.Itwasn’tmyonly
goal,butit’dbeenthebigone.Thegoldenticket.ThevalidationIwasasuccess,thatIhadn’tmadeamistakepursuingthepathIwaspursuingandthatpeoplelikedmycontentandlikedme
Afteryearsofcreatingcontent,andthousandsofposts,I’dfinallyhitit.
Istareddownatmyprofile,waitingfortheskiestoopenup,angelstosing,andconfettitoraindownaroundmeincongratulations.
Attheveryleast,IexpectedtheInstagramgodstopopupandslapagoldstaronmyhandforachievingsuchahugemilestone.
Nothing.
Theexhilarationofjoiningthemillion-followerclubwasstillthere,butI’dalsoexpected…more.
SomesenseofachievementthatwouldvalidateallthehardworkI’dputintomyaccountandthefeelingthatI’dmadeit,whateverit
was.
Butotherthananexcited,emoji-filledtextfromBradyandaninboxburstingwithDMs,IwasthesamepersonI’dbeenanhourago,withthesameworriesandinsecurities.
SomethingjaggedandmorosepuncturedmythrilluntilIslowlyfloatedbackdowntoearth.
Somehow,itfeltworsetoachievesomethingandstillfeeldissatisfiedthantonotachieveitatall.
Ihadamillionfollowers,yetI’dneverfeltemptier.
Ituckedmyphoneintomypocketandtriedtohidemydisappointment.
“Ididn’trealizeyouwerewatchingmyfollowercountthatclosely,”Isaid.
Christiandidn’ttakethebait.Instead,hereachedintohispocketandretrievedadistinctiveredandgoldbox.
“Foryou,”hesaid.“Acongratulatorygift.”
Curiosityandhesitationwarredinsideme.
ShouldItakeit?Ididn’tfeelrightacceptingagiftfromhimwhenwewerelittlemorethanabusinessarrangement,butwhatcouldhehavepossiblygottenme?Consideringthesizeandbrand,ithadtobejewelry.
Intheend,curiositywon.
Itooktheboxandslowlyopenedit,halfexpectingsomethingtojumpoutatme,butmybreathtrappedinmythroatwhenIsawwhatwasnestledagainsttheblackvelvet.
Holyhell.
Itwasawatch—themostgorgeous,extravagantwatchI’deverlaideyeson.Diamondsandemeraldsformeddelicatebutterfliesonthepolishedface,andsmallerdiamondsstuddedtheplatinumband.
“It’salimited-editionpiecethathasn’thitthemarketyet,”Christiansaidascasuallyasifitwereaplastictoyhe’dpickedupfromthemall.“Thereareonlyfiveintheworld.Oneofthemnowbelongstoyou.”
Iranmyfingersoverthejeweledface.Thewatchmustbeworthafortune.
“Howdidyougetit?”Thequestionwasawhisperinthedyingsunlight.
Iknewtheanswerbeforeheresponded.
WhatChristianHarperwanted,ChristianHarpergot.
“Ihavemyways.”
Theserotoninboostfromholdingastunningpieceofjewelryfaded,replacedwithwariness.
Icouldn’tholdontoanyhappyfeelingsthesedays.
Iclosedmyhandaroundthewatchuntilthejewelscutintomypalm.“Whyareyougivingthistome?”
“Itoldyou.It’sacongratulatorygift.”
“YousaidIdidn’thitamillionfollowersuntilanhourago.Youmanagedtogetthiswatchand
comehomeinthattime?”
Herespondedwithanelegantshrug.“Ihavegoodcontacts.”
Mydefaultwastrust,butItastedthebitternessofhislieonmytongue.
ThediamondsdugdeepergroovesintomyskinbeforeIloosenedmygrip.
“It’sgorgeous,andIappreciatethesentiment,butIcan’ttakethis.”Iheldoutthewatch.
IwishedIcould’vekeptit,butI’dalwayswishedforthingsIcouldn’thave.
Love.Affection.Worthiness.SomethingdeepandunconditionalthatIcouldcallmyown.
Inthegrandschemeofthings,awatchwasnothing.Itwasbeautiful,andIhatedhowmuchIwantedsomethingthatmeantnothing,butitwasonlyanaccessory.Ifsomeonewantedit,theycouldbuyit.
Thoseotherthings,noamountofmoneycouldbuy.
Christian’sexpressionflickeredforthefirsttimesinceheentered.“Igaveittoyou.It’syours.”
“I’mgivingitback.It’stoomuch,”Isaidfirmly.“Thisisadiamond
watch,Christian.Itmustbeworthtensofthousandsofdollars.”
“Ninety-twothousand,sixhundred.”
Iflinchedatboththenumberandhiscooltone.
“It’sonlymoney.Ihaveplentyofit.”Christian’sbrowsdippedintoaV.“Ithoughtyou’dlikeit.Yousaidyouneededanewwatch.”
Ihad
saidthat.It’dbeenanoff-the-cuffcommentImadeweeksago.
Icouldn’tbelieveChristianrememberedit.
“IfIwearthis,I’llgetrobbedtheinstantIstepoutofthehouse.EvenifIdon’t…”Idraggedabreaththroughmycompressedlungs.
Theoxygenstokedflamesofoldfrustrationuntiltheyincineratedmyinhibitionsandtherestofmywordsspilledout.
“It’snotjustthewatch.It’severything.Ourarrangement,mybodyguard,livinghererent-free,takingyourjettoNewYork.IfeellikeI’myourmistress,exceptwe’renothavingsex.You’renotmyboyfriend.I’mnotsureifwe’reevenfriends.Sotellme,why
areyoudoingallthis?Anddon’ttellmeit’stocongratulatemeonmyfollowercountorbecauseyoufeelguiltysomeonebrokeintomyapartment.I’manoptimist,notanidiot.”
Ifitwereanyoneelse,IwouldsuspectChristianwastryingtoluremeintosomeweirdsexualarrangement.Buthewasrichandgorgeousenoughthathedidn’tneedtolureanyoneintoanything.Peoplelineduptodohisbiddingwithouthimhavingtoask.
Whywashegivingmespecialtreatmentwhenhebarelyknewme?
Tick.Tick.Tick.
ThedeafeningmarchofthesecondspassingbyonthewallclockmatchedthemusclejumpinginChristian’sjaw.
Notaword,onlysilence.
Hewasavault,brimmingwithsecretsandsealedwithalocknotevenamasterthiefcouldpick.Dangerpulsedaroundhim,screamingatmetostopandturnbackbeforeitwastoolate.
Likearecklessfool,Iforgedon.
“Idon’texpectyoutoanswer.Youneverdo.But,whileI’mgratefulforyourhelpwiththestalker,Ican’ttakeanymorefromyouthanIalreadyhave.”
Iheldthewatchoutfurther.Hishandsremainedathissides,buttheweightofhisstarewasaphysicalpressagainstmyskin.
“Wesignedacontract,buttheboundarieshaveblurredsinceImovedin.It’stimewereverttotheoriginaltermsofouragreement.We’retogetherinpubliconly,formutuallybeneficialreasons,andwe’rehousematesuntilwefindmystalkerandputhimbehindbars.That’sall
weare.Nothingmore,nothingless.”
ThewordsstackeduplikebricksinthewallIwasbuildingbetweenhimandmymisguidedheart.
Tick.Tick.Tick.
Onlymyraggedbreathsinterruptedtheagonizinglyslowpassoftime.
Myfeethadn’tmovedaninchsinceChristiancamehome,butmychestheavedlikeI’djustclimbedMountEverest.
“Nothingmore,nothingless.”Hislazyrepetitionofmywordssentashiverofuneasedownmyspine.
Mythroatwastootighttoallowsufficientairthrough.Everythingaroundusbuzzedwithaceaseless,dangeroushum,likeawarningbeforeastorm.
Hetookasteptowardme.Itookaninstinctivestepback,andanother,andanother,untilmylowerbackhitthecouchandmyheartbeathardenoughtobruise.
“Isthatwhatweare,Stella?Housemateswhoareseeingeachotherformutuallybeneficial
reasons?”Thequestionwasvelvetysoft,buthiseyesglintedliketheedgeofafreshlysharpenedblade.
Christian’spalmssankintothecushionsoneithersideofme,effectivelycagingmein.
IttookallmywillpowernottoshrinkintomyselfsoIdidn’ttouchhim.Onegraze,andIwouldcombustintoflames.Iwassureofit.
ButIrefusedtogivehimthesatisfactionofhiding,soIliftedmychinandtriednottothinkaboutthemereinchesseparatingmybodyfromhis.
“That’sallwe’resupposedtobe.”
“Ididn’taskyouwhatwe’resupposedtobe.Iaskedyouwhatweare.”
“Youneveranswermyquestions,”Isaiddefiantly.“WhyshouldIansweryours?”
Thehumintensified,sweepingoveruslikeatidalwaveovertheshore.Christian’seyesdarkeneduntilthepupilsnearlyobscuredthemoltengoldofhisirises.
“Yourquestions.”Thecruelcutofhissmileinjectediceintomyveins,andIsuddenlyregrettedaskinghimanythingatall.“Youwanttoknowwhy,
Stella?WhyIgaveyouthewatch,whyImovedyouintomyhouse,mysanctuary
,whenI’velivedaloneforoveradecadeandhadplannedtodosofortherestofmylife?”
EverywordspikedmybloodwithadrenalineuntilIwasdrowninginit.Inhim.InthiswildvortexI’dsuckedusintowithnoescaperouteinsight.
“It’sbecauseyouhaven’tlookedmeintheeyesinceNewYork.Becauseyou’reallIcanfuckingthinkaboutnomatterwhereIamorwhoI’mwith,andthethoughtofyouhurtorupsetmakesmewanttorazethiscitytotheground.”Soft,almostdesperateviciousnesscoatedhisvoice.“I’veneverwantedsomeonemore,andI’veneverhatedmyselfmoreforit.”
Thevortexdraggedmedeeper,submergingmebeneaththewavesofathousanddifferentemotions.AnywordsImight’vespokenweretootangledupinmychesttoescape.
Abittersmileslashedacrossthatheartbreakingface.“That’s
fuckingwhy.”
Inacoolbrushofair,Christianwasgone.
Thedoorslammedshutbehindhim,andIcollapsedagainstthecouch,thewatchdanglingfrommyfingersandtheruinsoftheworldasIknewitatmyfeet.23
CHRISTIAN
ValhallaonaFriday
nightwaspuredebauchery,butinsteadofpartakinginthehigh-stakespokergameatthecasinoorindulgingatthegentleman’sclubinthebasement,Ithrewbackmysixthdrinkatthebar.
Scotch,self-loathing,andangerburnedthroughmybloodwhilethebrunettenexttomechatteredon.
Threehoursandtwiceasmanydrinkshadn’tthawedtheblackicecoatingmyveinssinceIleftStellaaloneintheapartment.Neitherhadthewomenflutteringaroundme,allofthembeautifulandaccomplishedintheirownright.
Acosmeticstycoon.Acandyheiress.Asupermodelwhoseemedunconcernedaboutabandoningthemediamagnateshe’dshowedupwith.
“I’mstayingatahotelnearby.”Themodelleanedcloseruntilherlow,throatyvoicepercolatedthroughthedinandintomyears.“Perhapsyou’dliketojoinme?”
Iranathumbalongtherimofmyglassandobservedherinsilence.
Herskinflushedafaintredbeneathmyscrutiny.
Partofmewastemptedtotakeheruponherofferanddrownmyfrustrationswithheatandsex.ThathadbeenmyplanwhenI’dstartedflirtingwithher
Butthatwastheproblem.NosupermodelsorsexcoulderaseStellafrommymindforasinglefuckingsecond.
Aggravationtunneledthroughmyveins.
“Notinterested.”Myreplycameoutharsherthanusual,andtheaggravationdeepened.
Ineededtogetthefuckoutofhere.Iwastooonedge.IfIstayed,IwasliabletodosomethingI’dregret.
Beforethemodelcouldrespond,herdatefinallynoticedshe’dwanderedoffafterhefinishedhisconversationwithanotherclubmember.
Hebarreledtowardus,hisfacecloudedwithdarkdispleasure.
“Anya.Itoldyoutostaybymyside.”Heclosedaproprietaryhandaroundherwristandglaredatme.
Istaredback,bored.
VictorBlack,CEOofamediaempireconsistingofdozensoftrashybutwidelyreadnewspapersandwebsites.
HewasalsooneofthemoreannoyingmembersofValhalla.
“Sorry.”Anyadidn’tsoundsorryatall.
“Harper.”Victorgavemeanastygrin.“Shouldn’tyoubespendingyourFridaynightwithyourgirlfriendinsteadofflirtingwithanotherman’sdate?”
MysmileicedattheindirectmentionofStella.
Ifweweren’tinpublic
…
“You’reright,”Isaidamicably.“Havefunwithyourdate.”
Victor’sgrinwaveredatmyagreeableresponse.AhintofpaniccreptintohiseyesasIstoodanddroppedahundred-dollarbillinthetipjar.
“Whereareyou…”
Ileftwithoutlisteningtotherestofhisinsipidquestionandmadeapitstopathisprizedsportscar.
ImaynothaveagunonmesinceValhalladidn’tallowweaponsinsidetheclub,butthatdidn’tmeanIdidn’thaveother,lessobviousweaponsatmydisposal.
Twominutesandoneplanteddevicelater,Igotintomycaranddrovehome.
WhenIpulleduptotheMirage,IwatchedthesecurityfootagefromoutsideVictor’shouseonmyphone.Asexpected,he’dleftsoonafterme;hiscarpulledintohisdrivewaylessthantenminutesafterIparked.
HeandAnyaexitedthecarandenteredhishouse.
IwaiteduntilthedoorshutbehindthembeforeIactivatedthedevice.
Icouldn’thearthefootage,butIcouldheartheboom
inmyheadashiscarexplodedintoflames.
BythetimeVictorranout,itwasalreadyatwisted,blackenedhunkofmetalbeneaththeragingfire.
Forthefirsttimethatnight,Ismiledagenuinesmile.
Muchbetter.
ItuckedmyphoneintomypocketandstraightenedmyjacketasIsteppedoutofthecar.
Hecouldprobablyguesswhowasbehindhiscar’suntimelydemise,buthewouldn’tdoadamnthingaboutit.HewasluckyIdidn’tblowitupwhenhewasin
it.
Unfortunately,thereliefIgainedfromfuckingwithVictorwasshort-lived
EverystepclosertomyapartmentremindedmeofwhathappenedwithStella.
Welivedinthesamehouse,yetIcouldfeelherslippingaway.
You’renotmyboyfriend.I’mnotsureifwe’reevenfriends.
Myjawclenched.
I’dboughtherthewatchinhopesitwouldbridgethedistancethat’dsprungupsinceNewYork.That’dbackfired.
I’dgonetoValhallahopingtotakemymindoffher.That’dbackfiredaswell.
Icould’vegonehomewithanywomanIwanted,andIchosetocomehometotheonewhodidn’twantme.
Acausticlaughsingedmythroat.
Fatewasafuckingbitch.
***
Iloosened
theknotonmytieasIenteredmyhouse.Myearlierself-loathingflamedhotterinmychest.
I’dmadeacareeroutofnotlosingmycool,butI’dlostmycoolwhenStellaattemptedtoreturnthewatch.
That’s
allweare.Nothingmore,nothingless.
Whyareyoudoing
anyofthis?
BecauseI’veneverwantedsomeonemore,andI’veneverhatedmyselfmoreforit.That’sfuckingwhy.
Theechoesfromourconversationswathedtheair.
I’dintendedtogostraighttomyroom,butIstoppedwhenIcaughtsightofcurlydarkhairpeekingoutfromthetopofthecouchandthescentofStella’sfavoritelavender-scentedcandle.Itflickeredonthecoffeetable,nexttolong,barelegsandascatterofdrawingpencils.
IdraggedmygazeovertheexpanseofsmoothskinandcottonshortsuntilImetapairofwarygreeneyes.
“You’restillup.”Alcoholanddesireroughenedmyobservation.
Stellawasusuallyinbedbynow,oratleastinherroom.Ididn’tbelieveforasecondthatshewenttosleepthatearly.
Whyhadshebeenavoidingme?Itcouldn’tpossiblybebecauseI’drefusedtotellheraboutMagda
andVivian.Thatconversationhadbeentrivialatbest.
“Icouldn’tsleep,soIthoughtI’dgetsomedrawingdone.”Shereturnedhergazetohersketchpad.“Wherewereyou?”
Despitehercasualtone,visibletensionlinedhershoulders.
Someoftheicefinallymelted.Thetricklesofwarmthsluicedthroughmyveinsandpulledadarksmileoutofme.
“Whydoyouask?”
“Youweregoneforhours.Curiosityisnatural.”
Shewasgoodatbluffing;Iwasbetteratdetectingbullshit.
IcrossedtheroomuntilIstoodbehindher.Ourreflectionsgleamedbackatusinthewindow,sosharpIcouldtraceeverydetailofherface—thelong,thicksweepofherlashes,theslighttiltofhercatlikegreeneyes,thedelicatenessofherchinandtheelegantcurveofhercheekbones.
“Iwentoutfordrinks.”Mycasualdrawldidn’tmatchthebeatofmypulse.
Iwantedtowrapherhairinmyhandandtugherheadbackuntilthoseeyeswereonmine.Tomarkthatperfectskinwithmyteethandclaimhermouthinakisssofuckingdeepitwoulderasethenotionthatwewerejusthousemates.
MyhandsflexedbeforeIforcedthemloose.Notyet.
I’dwaitedtoolongtowasteallmyhardworkononeimpetuousmoment.
IfStellasensedthedangergatheringbehindher,shedidn’tshowitbeyondafurthertighteningofhershoulders.Herpencilflewoverthepage,sketchingandshadinginthedetailsofafloor-lengthgownwithoutpause.
“Yes.Icansmellthealcohol.”Tightnesshamperedhercasualresponse.“Scotch…andperfume?”
“Jealous?”Silkwrappedaroundmysoft,mockingtone.
“Ihavenoreasontobe.”Shecontinuedsketching,butthestrokeswerefaster,angrier.“We’rejustroommates.”
“That’snotananswer.”Ituckedastraystrandofhairbehindherear.Myvoiceturnedcoaxingwhileherpencilslowed.“Askmewhatyoureallywanttoknow,Stella.”
Herlashesdippedbeforetheysweptupandhereyesmetmineinthewindow.
Stellacoulddonacoldfacadeallshewanted,butshehadasoftheart,andsheworethatheartonhersleeve.
Icouldpickoutthedozendifferentemotionsswirlingbeneaththosejade-coloreddepths—anger,frustration,desire,andsomethingdarker,moreunknown.
“Whowereyouwith?”Indifferenceclungtoherwords,butitwastatteredenoughformetospottheunderlyingvulnerability.
Shecared,andthathintofemotionslayedmemorethananystrikeofaswordcould.
“Threewomen.”
Ipressedmyhandagainsthershoulder,forcinghertostillwhenshejerkedatmyresponse.
“Theywereatthesamebarasme,”Isaid.“Icould’vefuckedanyofthem.Madethemdoeveryfilthy,debauchedthingIcouldthinkof.Theirmouthonmycock,myhandsintheirhair…”
Stella’slipspressedtogether.Pridelitadefiantsparkinhereyes,butrawnessstretchedherfeaturestaut,andIdetectedasmalltremblebeneathmytouch.
“YetIdidn’ttouchthem.Ididn’twantto.Notonetinyfuckingbit.”Iloweredmyhead,mychestonfirefromhowcloseshewas.Everybreathbroughtherdeeperintomyorbit,butIwould’vetradedallofthemifitmeantIcouldhaveher,all
ofher,forjustonemoment.“PerhapsIshould’ve.Perhapsthen,you’dunderstandhowIfeel.”
MybreathgrazedhercheekasIslidmypalmoverthecurveofhershoulderanddownherarm.“I’mnotajealousman,Stella.Ihaveneverenviedsomeoneforwhattheyhaveorwhothey’rewith,andyet…”Myfingersglideddowntoherwrist.“I’mjealousofeverypersonyousmileat…”Abrushoverherfingers.“EverylaughIdon’thear…”Mytouchdippedtoherkneeandmadeaslow,languorousjourneyupherthigh.“Everybreezethattouchesyourskinandeverysoundthatpoursthroughyourlips.It.Is.Maddening.”
Ipausedatthehemofhershorts.Myheartthundered,slippingintoaprimalrhythmthatmatchedtheroughnessofmyvoice.Theairswirledwithuncageddesiressopotenttheythreatenedtoconsumeusboth.
Stellahadstoppedsketchingaltogether.Herpencillayslackinherloosenedgrip,andshewasstill,sostill,saveforthefranticmusicofherpulse.
Ihearditoverthehotrushofbloodinmyveins.Itwasasiren’ssongbeckoningmetomydoom,anditwassobeautifulImight’vesuccumbedevenknowingitwouldleadmetohell.
“Christian…”
Everymuscletightenedatthewhisperofmyname.Itsoundedsosweetcomingfromhermouth,likeitwasthesoundofsalvationinsteadofruin.
Shewastheonlypersonwho’deversaidmynamelikethat.
Myhandcurledaroundherthigh.RoughnessdugintosoftfleshbeforeIreleasedherandstraightened,hatingmyselfmorewitheverysecond.
“Gotoyourroom,Stella.”Myharshcommandshatteredtherawintimacyofthemoment.“Andlockyourdoor.”
Abeatofhesitation.Araggedexhale.
Thenarustleofpapersandalossofwarmthasshefledtheroom.
IwaiteduntilIheardherdoorclosebeforeIreleasedmyownleashedbreath.
MystepspoundedinrhythmwithmyheartasIwalkedtomybathroom,strippedoffmyclothes,andturnedtheshowerascoldasitwouldgo.
Theicyblastsofwaterpummeledmyskinbutdidnothingtoquellthedesireraginginsidemeandincineratingeverythinginitspathuntilonlyvisionsofjadeeyesandlushdarkcurlsremained.Thephantomscentofgreenfloralsswirledintheshower,asinvisibleyettangibleasthesensationofhotsilkbeneathmytouch.
StellahadsearedsodeepintomyconsciousnessthatshewasallIcouldsmell.AllIcouldfeel.And,evenwhenIclosedmyeyes,allIcouldsee.
Theneedinmygroinpulsedharder.
Goddammit.
IbitoutalowcursebeforeIcavedandfistedmycock.Itwashardandswollenandalreadydrippingpre-cum,andmymovementswererough,almostangryasIworkedmyselftowardamuch-neededrelease.
Icould’vekissedher.Icould’vefistedherhairandbrandedherwithmymouthuntilIprovedtherewasnothingfake
aboutthedarkfirethatburnedbetweenus.
Theonlythingthat’dheldmebackwasafinethreadofself-control,wovenfromcoldlogicandthefaintestshredsofmylong-destroyedconscience.
Iwaswellawareofthefactthat,shouldeitherofuscave,Iwouldbecondemningnotonlymyselfbuthertohell
Iwouldbetouchingherwithbloodiedhandsandkissingherwithadeceiver’smouth.Shewouldbeclimbingintobedwithamonster,andshedidn’tevenknowit.
PartofmewantedhersomuchIdidn’tcare;theotherpartwasprotectiveenoughthatI’dhavehersentawaytoaplacewhereevenIcouldn’tfindher.
Itwasaparadox,aswereallthingsinmylifethatrelatedtoher.
Butifthatthreadhadsnapped…
Iclosedmyeyes,mygriptightandmybreathharshening.
Shecouldbebeneathmenow,hernailsclawingmybackandmynameamoaninhermouth…
Myorgasmcoiledatthebaseofmyspine,slowlyatfirst,thenfasteruntilitexplodedinoneblinding,deafeningmoment.
“Fuck!”
Theforceofmyreleasedrownedoutmycurse,butwhenIcamedownfrommyhigh,allthatwasleftwascoldwaterandthebright,mockingglareoftheoverheadlight.
Irestedmyforeheadagainsttheicytileandcountedmydeepinhales.
One.Two.Three.
Stella’sroomwasdownthehallfrommine.DespitewhatI’dtoldher,alockeddoorwouldn’tbemuchprotection
Four.Five.Six.
Ikeptcountinguntilmyheartbeatslowedtoanormalpaceandclaritychasedawaythescotchinmybloodandthefoginmybrain.
Itwasn’ttherightnighttomakeamove.
I’dwaitedthislong.Icouldwaitawhilelonger.
BecausewhenIclaimedStellaasmine,Iwoulddoitsofuckingthoroughlytherewouldn’tbeashredofdoubtineitherofourmindsastowhoshebelongedto…orwhoIbelongedtoinreturn.24
STELLA
Fortherecord,
Iwasnot
jealousofthewomenChristiansawlastnight.Iwasmerelyworriedabouthimbeinggoneforhourssincehewasmyboyfriend—well,fakeboyfriend—anditwouldcreatealotofheadachesformeifanythinghappenedtohim.
Thatwasall.
MyskinprickledwithawarenessaswewaitedforJoshorJulestoanswerthedoor.
Itwastheirbelatedhousewarming,andChristianhadfinagledaninvitesinceRhysandBridgetwereintownforboththepartyandsomediplomaticevent.SomethingaboutwantingtoseeRhysandnotbeingabletomeetupwithhimseparately.
I’dplannedtoavoidChristianuntilIsortedthroughmytangledfeelingstowardhim,butnowIhadtospendanentiredaywithhimwhilehisconfessionandwarningplayedlikeabrokenrecordinmyhead.
I’veneverwantedanyonemore,andI’veneverhatedmyselfmoreforit.
Gotoyourroom,Stella.Andlockyourdoor.
Myimaginationcouldn’tresistspinningfantasiesofwhatwould’vehappenedhadInotleftafterhiswarning…orifIhadn’tlockedmydoorlikehe’dtoldmeto.
Roughhands.Whiskeykisses.Footstepsinthedark.
Heatarroweddownmytorsoandpooledbetweenmythighs.
Iclutchedmyhousewarminggiftclosertomeasmybreathsquickened.
Despitemyloveofcrystals,tarot,andallthingsmystic,Ididn’tbelieveinmagic.Notthespellsandbroomstickskind,anyway.Butinthatmoment,IwascertainthatChristiancouldcrawlinsidemymindandpickouteverydirty,wickedfantasyI’dhadofhim.
HisstareburnedaholeinmycheekasthecrispAprilafternoonturnedintoafurnace.Thesunblazedaruthlesspathovermyexposedskinandslowedmyheartbeatwhilethesilencewrappedtighthandsaroundmythroat.
Imight’vesuffocatedrightthereonthefrontstepshadJulesnotopenedthefrontdoorandsavedme.
“Stella!Christian!Ithought
Iheardyouguys,”shebubbled.“I’msogladyoucouldmakeit!”
Thetensioncollapsed,pullingChristian’sgazeawayfrommeandlooseningthestringholdingmeuprightuntilIsaggedagainstmyboxedcandlegiftsetwithamixtureofreliefanddisappointment.
“Wewouldn’tmissitfortheworld.”Ithrusttheboxather,hopingshecouldn’tpickuponmyrestlessness.OnceJulesscentedawhiffofgossip,shechaseditdownlikeadogafterabone.“Thisisforyou.Happyhousewarming.”
Hereyeslitup.Shelived
forpresents.SheoncetoldmeitwasashameSantawasn’trealbecause,asoldashewas,she’dfuckhimifitmeantshe’dwakeuptoadifferentgifteverymorning.
Granted,thathadbeenafterthreeeggnogsovertheholidays,butstill.JulesAmbrose’smindworkedinfascinatingways.
“Thankyou!Comein,comein.Everyone’salreadyinthelivingroom.”Shetookthegiftwithonehandandopenedthedoorwiderwiththeother.“Justtakeoffyourshoesandleavethembythedoor.I
personallydon’tcare,butJoshisanalaboutthat.”Sherolledhereyesingood-naturedexasperation.
“That’sbecauseIdon’twantpeopletrackingcitydirtandgrimealloverourfloors,youheathen.”Joshcameupbehindherandkissedhercheekbeforegreetinguswithadimpledsmile.
“Hey,guys.Welcometoourhumbleabode.”Hesweptadramaticarmaroundthetwo-storytownhouse.
I’dvisitedbefore,soIwasfamiliarwiththehardwoodfloorsandcharminglymismatcheddécor—Jules’sfluffypinkrugsnexttoJosh’sblackleatherfurniture,herredlip-shapedpillowsoffsettingthehideouspaintingsstrewnonthewalls.
Joshwaseasyontheeyes,buthistasteinartwasquestionableatbest.
“Niceart,”Christiandrawled.
“Thanks.”Theothermanbeamed.“Ipickeditoutmyself.”
“Icantell.”
IshotChristianaquicklook,buthisexpressionwasimpassive.
“Iamnot
aheathen.”JuleswasstillstuckonwhatJoshcalledher.“Asforthegrimeanddirt,that’swhatcleaningisfor.”
“Yeah?Andwhodoesthecleaning?”heaskedaswewalkedtowardthelivingroom.HisleanframemovedeasilyaroundtheskisproppedhaphazardlyagainsttheopendoorofthefronthallclosetandtheemptyCrumble&Bakeboxhalf-slidingoffasidetable.
HewasanERdoctoratThayerUniversityHospital,butwithhistousleddarkhair,tannedskin,andrazor-sharpcheekbones,hecouldplayoneonTVaswell.
“Ido,”Julessaidprimly.“WhenIhavetime.”
“Thelasttimeyouhadtime
,youspentitgivingyourselfanat-homefacial.”
“Myskinneedspampering.Beingalawyerisstressful.”Shetossedherhairoverhershoulder.“MightIremindyouthatthelasttimeyou
hadtime,youspentitgettingyourasswhoopedatchessbyAlex?”
Joshscowled.“Ididnotgetmyasswhooped.Iwasgettingthelayoftheland.Figuringouthisweaknesses.”
Julespattedhisarmwithasoothinghand.“There,there,babe.It’sokay.Istillloveyouevenifyousuckatstrategy.”
Iswallowedalaughattheirbickering.Somethingsneverchanged.
Weenteredthelivingroom,wheretherestofthepartysprawledacrosstwoleathercouches.
Bridgetjumpedupandhuggedmetheinstantshesawme.“Stella!It’ssogoodtoseeyou!”
“Youtoo.”Isqueezedhertight.Totherestoftheworld,shewasaqueen,buttome,she’dalwaysbethegirlwhoIbinge-watchedTheBachelor
andstayeduplatedrunkenlydiscussingthephilosophyoflifewithwhenwewereincollege.“How’stheroyallifetreatingyou?Beheadanyonelately?”Iteased.
Shereleasedanexaggeratedsigh.“Unfortunatelynot,thoughIwastemptedtosentencetheministeroftheinteriortotheguillotine.Rhystalkedmeoutofit.”
Shecastaplayfulglanceatherhusband,whosemuscled,six-foot-fiveframemadethecouchhewassittingonlooklikeapieceofdollfurniture.
“Halfmetalkingyououtofit,halfthefactnooneusesguillotinesanymore.”Amusementsoftenedhisbattle-hardenedgrayeyes.
“Icouldbringthemback.I’mthequeen.WhatIsaygoes.”Bridgetsankbackontotheseatnexttohimwithregalhaughtiness,thoughherfaceglowedwithmischief.
Agrinsplithisface.“Ofcourseyoucan,princess.”Hemurmuredsomethingelsetoolowformetohear.Whateveritwas,itmadeBridget’scheeksflushpinkwithpleasure.
JulesnudgedJoshintheribswithadreamysigh.“Whydon’tyou
callmeprincess?It’ssocute.”
“Becauseyou’renotaprincess.You’reahellion,”hesaid,earninghimselfadeepglare.“Andthat’sjustthewayIlikeit.”Hedrewhertohischestandplantedadramatickissonherlips.
Julesmadeahalf-heartedattempttopushhimoff,butlaughterbubbledfromherthroat.“Nicesave,Chen.”
ThelightheartedatmosphereeasedmyearliertensionasIleanedovertohugAva.
ShewascurledupnexttoAlex,whoeyedtheothercouples’sweetinteractionswithdistastewhilehewrappedaprotectivearmaroundhershoulders.
“IfyouwanttoengageinPDAtoo,now’sthetime,”Ijoked.
Shelaughed.“Noted,butwe’regoodfornow.”Hervoicedroppedtoastagewhisper.“AlexisallergictoPDA.”
“Iamnotallergic
.”HegrimacedwhenJulesloopedherarmsaroundJosh’sneckandsaidsomethingthatmadehisfacesoften.“Merelydisturbed.”
“Alexhasperformanceanxiety,”JoshsaidwithoutlookingawayfromJules.“It’sokay,dude.Happenstothebestofus.Maybeyoucaninvestinthedevelopmentofapillthat’llhelpwithyourproblem.It’llbelikeViagraforkissers.”
“IfIweretoinvestinthedevelopmentofanything,itwouldbeacustommuzzletokeepyouquiet.”
AmischievousdimplecreasedJosh’scheek.“AlexVolkovspendingallthatR&Dmoneyonme?I’mhonored.”
Julesburiedherfaceinhischest,hershouldersshakingwithlaughter.
AvaplacedherhandonAlex’sarm.“Don’tkillthem,”shewarned.“Wecan’tloseabridesmaidand
bestmanthisclosetothewedding.”
“Thetermbestman
isfalseadvertising.”AlexpinnedJoshwithadarkglare.“Ishouldswapyououtwithsomeoneelse.”
“Youcantry,butI’myouronlyfriend,andwhocanthrowabetterbachelorpartythanme?That’sright,noone.”Joshansweredhisownquestion.“Besides,Ialreadyputdownthedepositforthejumbobananafloatandcustompokercards.They’reillustratedwithadrawingofAvaandarobotinasuit.”
IturnedmyheadawaysoAlexcouldn’tseemysmile.
BesidesAva,JoshwastheonlypersonwhocouldgetawaywithprovokingAlexlikethat.
Maybe.
“Christian,it’snicetoseeyouagain!”Avachirpedbeforeherfiancéstrangledherbrothertodeathinthelatter’slivingroom.“Ididn’trealizeyouwerecoming.”
They’dmetonceatBridget’swedding,butmeetingsomeoneoncehadneverdeterredherfromtreatingsomeoneliketheywereanoldfriend.
“Iwouldn’tmissanopportunitytohangoutwithStella’sfriends,”Christiansaideasily.
Herestedahandonmylowerback,andIalmoststeppedawayfromthesheerheatofhimbeforeIrememberedweweresupposedtobedating.
I’dcavedandtoldmyfriendstheycouldtelltheirsignificantotherssoeveryonehereknewwewerepretending,eveniftheydidn’tsayit.
Still,shouldIkeepuptheactforsimplicity’ssakeornot?
Indecisiontightenedmymuscles.
Christianmust’vepickeduponmyhesitationbecausehisjawflexedashishandlingeredforanextrasecondbeforehewithdrewit.
Reliefanddisappointmentbattledfordominanceinmychest.
Meanwhile,theroomfellsilentassixpairsofeyesping-pongedbetweenus.Iwasn’ttheonlyoneunsureabouthowtotreatourrelationship;Icouldseetheconfusionscrawledallovermyfriends’faces.
AnawkwardshadowdarkenedtheroombeforeJulesclappedherhands.
“Sinceeveryoneishere,let’sstarthappyhour!IhaveanewmargaritarecipeI’mdyingforyouguystotry…”
Noonequestionedher,eventhoughitwasbarelynoon.
Severalhomemademargaritasandwaytoomanychipslater,IfoundmyselfonacouchwithAva,Jules,andBridgetwhileChristian,Alex,Josh,andRhyssatacrossfromus.
I’dstucktomytwodrinksperpartyrule,butJoshhadbeensoheavyhandedwithhispourthatmyheadswamlikeI’ddownedhalfadozentequilashots
“Weneedagirls’tripsoon.”Bridgetleanedherheadbackandyawned.“Somethingfun.I’msotiredofdiplomatictrips.Iflythousandsofmilestosmileandshakehandswithabunchofoldmen.IcoulddothesamethinginParliamentwithout
thejetlag.”
“Yes!”Julesbrightenedattheprospectofawildweekendabroad.“Ava,yourbacheloretteiscomingup.Let’smakeitbig.Let’smakeitunforgettable.Let’smakeit—”
“Safeandlegal,”Avasaidfirmly.“Idon’tneedtogotojailagain.”
Ava,Jules,andIhadgottenarrestedduringBridget’sbacheloretteafterJulespunchedsomecreepinthefaceforgropingAva.Thankfully,Bridgethadleftbythen,butourstintinacoldEldorranholdingcellwasn’toneofmyfondestmemories.
“Again?”Bridget’sheadpoppedup.“Whenwereyouinjail?”
“Uh…”Ava’scheekspinked.“Thatwasafigureofspeech?”
We’dnevertoldBridgetwhathappenedbecauseshewouldfreakout.Besides,Alexhadbailedusoutandtakencareoftheaftermath—i.e.keptitoutofthepress—sonoharm,nofoul.
“Yousaidagain.
”SuspiciondarkenedBridget’selegantfeatures.
“She’stalkingaboutthetimewebrokeintotheclocktowerincollegeandranintocampussecurity,”Julesinterjected.“Anyway,ofcourse
thebachelorettewillbesafeandlegal.Iliketolivelifeontheedge,butIdon’twantAlextomurderme,thankyouverymuch.”
WelookedoveratAlex,whowaslisteningtoJoshdetailthethirty-sixdifferentusesforajumbobananafloatwithapainedexpression.
Ontheotherendofthecouch,RhysandChristianwereengagedinconversation,theirvoicestoolowformetohear.Rhyswasscowling;Christianlookedamused.
Itshouldbeillegalforthatmuchgorgeousnesstooccupysuchasmallspace.Butwhileeverymanwasdevastatinginhisownright,mygazewasirresistiblydrawntotheleanformloungingclosesttothedoor.
Christianturnedhisheadattheexactmomentmyattentionlandedonhim.Ourgazeslocked,andanelectriccurrentofsomethingprimalsingedmyblood.
Thefogginesscloudingmyheadsuddenlyhadnothingtodowiththemargaritas.
“Forgetthetripfornow.”Jules’svoicedraggedmyattentionbacktoher,thoughChristian’seyesremainedahotbrandonmyskin.“Whatwasthat?”
“Whatwaswhat?”Myheartricochetedinmychest.
Thelingeringaftertasteofstrawberryandtequiladissolvedintospiceandwhiskeyonmytongue.ItwashowIimaginedhewouldtaste—likeheat,sin,andpure,unfilteredmasculinity.
“That
.”Eyeslikehazelbladespuncturedmyfeignedignorance.ShetiltedherheadafractionofaninchtowardChristian.“ThesexualtensionissothickIcancutitwithabutterknife.”
“There’snosexualtension.”Unlessyoucountedtheacheinmycoreandtheawarenesstighteningmyskin.
“Thereis.EvenIfeelit.”Avaliftedherhairoffherneck.“Ifitgetsanyhotter,I’llhavetomakeAlexrevisithisnoPDArule.”
“Exactly.”Julesstoodabruptly,drawingthemen’sattentionandinterruptingJoshashereachedbananafloatusenumbertwenty-five.
“Everythingokay?”heasked.
“Yep.Wejustneedtousetherestroom.”Shegraspedmywristandpulledmeupandtowardthebackofthehouse.AvaandBridgetfollowedus.“Don’teatallthechipswhilewe’regone!”
“I’madoctor,andIstillcan’tfindamedicalreasonforwhygirlsalwayshavetousethebathroomatthesametime,”IheardJoshmuseasweleft.
“You’reanidiot,”Alexsaid.
TheirvoicesfadedwhenJulespulledusintotheguestbathandshutthedoorbehindus.
“WhydoIfeellikethisisanFBIinterrogation?”Ileanedagainstthecounterandeyedmyfriendswarily.
“Becauseitis.”Julesplantedherhandsonherhipsandadoptedherlawyervoice.“Now,tellusthetruth.Areyou,StellaAlonso,havingorhaveeverhadsexualintercoursewithChristianHarper?”
“No
.”
“Doyouwantto?”
Twosecondsofhesitationwasenoughtoelicitgaspsallaround.
“Iknewit!”TriumphglowedinJules’seyes.“I’msohappyforyou!Finally
,someoneyou’reattractedto.Christianiscrazyhot,andyou’relivinginthesamehouse.It’sliketheperfectsetupforasexyfling.”
Bridgetwaslessenthused.“Ithoughtthiswasafakerelationship,”shesaidgently.“Whatchanged?”
“LikeJulessaid,he’sprettygood-looking.”Iinstinctivelygraspedmycrystalnecklace.Thewarm,clearstonewassupposedtoclearmymindandhelpmyfocus,butmythoughtstumbledinmyheadlikelaundrysetonhigh.“Also…”Afteranothermoment’shesitation,Ispilledeverythingthat’dhappened
NewYork,Christian’sweirdaversiontoart,thewatch,hisconfessionaboutwantingme.
BythetimeIfinished,threeeyespinnedmetothemarblecounterwithvaryingdegreesofshock(Ava),concern(Bridget),anddelight(Jules).
“Ihadafeelinghewasintoyousincethedaywemethim,”Julessaidsagely.“Thewayhelookedatyouwhenwesignedthelease?Whew
.”Shefannedherself.“Listen,ifyouwanttoleaveandbanghisbrainsout,Iwon’tbeoffended.It’sanewseason,babe.Timetoclearoutthosecobwebsfromyoursexlife.It’llbelikespringcleaningforyourvagina.”
Iwincedatthementalvisual.
“Iwouldn’tjumpintoanythingthatfast.”AfrownmarredBridget’sforehead.“Christianis,well,youknowmythoughtsabouthimalready.I’mforevergratefulhehelpedmeandRhyswithourphotoleakproblem,buthe’snotsomeoneyouturntoifyouwantaseriousrelationship.”
“That’swhyIsaidbang,notdate,”Julessaid.“Ibethe’sabeastinbed.Hejusthasthatlook.”
Heatstainedmycheeks.“WhatwouldJoshsayifheknewyouweresecretlyassessingothermen’ssexualprowess?”
“He’dsayhe’sstillbetterthanthem,andhe’dberight.Oursexlifeisfantastic.”JulescastanapologeticglanceatAva.“Sorry.”
“I’mgoingtopretendIdidn’thearthatlastpart.”AvahadacceptedtherelationshipbetweenJoshandJulesontheconditionthattheyneverdiscussedtheirsexlifeinfrontofher.
Sheturnedtome,herdarkeyeswarmwithconcernandcuriosity.“Thequestionis,doyouwant
justsexwithhim?Ordoyouwantsomethingmore?”
“Don’tberidiculous,”Julessaid.“Stelisn’tinterestedindating.Right?”
Thecrystalflamedagainstmypalm.Ididn’tanswer,butmysilencespokevolumes.
“Oh.”Jules’ssmileslowlyfadedintorealization.“Oh
.”
Oh
wasright.
Ididn’tknowifIwantedtodateChristian,butIknewIwantedhim.
AndIknewitwasonlyamatteroftimebeforethedarkchemistrybetweenusexplodedintosomethingneitherofuscouldcomebackfrom.25
CHRISTIAN
“Whatthehell
doyouthinkyou’redoing?”
“I’mdrinkingandenjoyingyourdelightfulcompany.”Iraisedmyglass.“It’snicetoseeyouagain,Larsen.”
“IwishIcouldsaythesame.”
RhyshadbeengrumblingandbroodingsinceIarrived,whichwasn’tahugedeparturefromhisusualdemeanor,butnowthatthegirlswereoutoftheroom,heturnedthefullforceofhisireonme.
“OneyearofbeingPrinceConsortandyou’veforgottenourhistory.Ourfriendship.”Ilacedmytonewithcarefullycrafteddisappointment.“Ithoughtyouweredifferent,butit’struewhattheysay.Absolutepowercorruptsabsolutely.”
Iusedfriendship
intheloosestsenseoftheterm.Ourrocky,complicatedrelationshipstartedwithRhyssavingmylifeandhimwalkingawayfromHarperSecuritytobewithBridget.Thepathbetweenthosepointshadbeenriddledwithdisagreements,barbs,andastrangemixofmutualrespectandsuspicion.
“Cutthebullshit,Harper.”Rhys’sglarecrackledwithirritation.ClassicLarsen.Ifhebroodedanyharder,he’drequireaplasticsurgeontocarvethefrownoutofhisface.“ItoldyoutostayawayfromStella.Idon’tcareifit’sfake.She’slivingwithyou,andIdon’ttrustyouunderthesameroofwithher.”
“Youseemawfullyconcernedaboutherlovelife,”Idrawled.“AnythingBridgetshouldknow?”
Theairdrippedwithsilentdanger,butnooneseemedconcernedexceptfortheroyalbodyguardsshiftinguneasilyinthebackoftheroom.
JoshwatchedourbackandforthwithfascinationfromRhys’sothersidewhileAlexscrolledthroughhisphone,lookingbored.
“I’mconcernedbecauseofBridget,”Rhysgrowled.“Stellaisherbestfriend.Youfuckwithher,Bridget’sgonnabeupset.WhichmeansI’llbeupset.”
“Ah,Isee.”Iswirledmydrinkinitsglassbeforetakingathoughtfulsip.“Itmustbetiring,havingyouremotionssointimatelyconnectedwithanother’s.Doesitworktheotherwayaround,orisitaone-wayleashonlyshegetstoyank?”
Joshsnortedoutalaugh.
“Youactamused,”Rhyssaidwithoutlookingathim.“LikeJulesandAvawon’tberidingyourassesifanythinghappenstoStella.”
Josh’ssmiledisappeared.Alexlookedupfromhisphone,thosecoldgreeneyesdrillingintomyskinforthefirsttimesinceIarrived.
Wehadn’tacknowledgedeachotherbeyondanobligatorynodofgreeting.
Wedidn’tshideourquasifriendship,butwedidn’tannounceittotheworldeitherbecausetherewasnothingto
announce.Otherthanourmonthlychessmatchesandtheoccasionalbusinessinteraction,werarelysaweachother.
“Obviously,I’mconcerned,”Joshsaid,doingaone-eightyashedirectedhisnextquestionatme.“WhatareyourintentionswithStella?”
“Idon’thavetoexplainmyselftoyou.Idon’tevenknowyou.”
Alie.Magda
hadinadvertentlyfallenintohishandsbeforeDanteboughtitoffhim,whichmeantIkneweverysinglethingaboutJoshChen.Hisfamilybackground,hisgradesinmedschool,hisfavoritebasketballteamandhowhetookhiscoffee.
Hewasagoldenboywithadarkstreak,butnotoneIneededtoconcernmyselfwithnowthatMagda
wasnolongerinhispossession.
“You’resittinginmyhouse,datingoneofmysister’sand
girlfriend’sbestfriends,soyoudo,infact,needtoexplainyourself,”Joshsaid.“Ifyoudon’tlikeit,feelfreetoleave.”
Isighed,regrettingmydecisiontoattendthisdamnedparty.
IfStellahadn’tbeensoadamantaboutattending,Icould’vespentthedaydoingsomethingmoreproductive,likehuntingdownherstalker,reorganizingmylibrary,orfinishingyesterday’scrossword.
Anythingwasbetterthanthisinsufferableconversation.
“Youknow…”Rhys’sexpressionturnedspeculative.“BridgettoldmeaboutallthethingsyoudidforStella.Loweringherrent,agreeingtothedatingarrangement,movingherintoyourhousewhensomecreepspookedher.”Thespeculationmorphedintoaknowingglintthatsetoffadozenwarningbells.“Thoughtyoudidn’tlikepeopleinyourpersonalspace.Anyreasonyou’rehandingoutspecialtreatmentlikecandytoher?”
“Ihavemyreasons.”Iflickedapieceoflintoffmysleeve,thepictureofundisturbedcalm,evenasuneaseglidedthroughmychest.
Rhyswasaroyalpaininmyass,notonlybecausehewasoneofthefewpeopleunafraidtostanduptome,butbecausehewasobservantasfuckandknewmebetterthananyoneexceptDante.
Myannoyanceratchetedupanothernotchwhenheexaminedmewith…amusement?Whatthefuckwassofunny?
“I’msureyoudo.”Humorlengthenedhisdrawl.“Catchingfeelings,Harper?”
“Onlythatofirritationatbeinginterrogated.”MybackteethclenchedbeforeIcaughtmyselfandrelaxed.“WhatIdowithmylifeandtimeisnoneofyourbusiness.”
Rhys’sgrinwidened.“Deflection.WhichmeansI’mright.”Hislowchucklesharpenedtheedgesofmydispleasure.“Oh,thisisrich.IneverthoughtI’dseetheday.”
Besidehim,Josh’sfingersflewoverhisphonewithalarmingspeed.
Myeyesnarrowed.“AreyoutextingJules?”
“Ofcoursenot.Butincaseyou’rewondering,thegirlswillbeinthebathroomfor…”Hecheckedhisphone.“Atleastanotherhalfhour.”
JesusChrist.
OfallthepeopleStellacouldbefriendswith,shehadtochoosethese
people.
“Havingfeelingsisnothingtobeashamedof.”AtinysmilecrackedtheiceinAlex’sexpression.“You’llgetusedtoit.”
TheAlexVolkovIknewthreeyearsagowould’veneversaidsuchathing,notevenasajoke.
Yetanothersignthatloveturnedthemostlevel-headedofpeopleintofools.ItwasenoughtomakeamanwanttohuntCupiddownandstringthebastardupusinghisownarrows.
Aggravationexpandedinmychest.“Don’tstartwithme.AtleastIdidn’tgiveupmycompanytofollowagirlaroundforayearinhopesshewouldsparemeasecondglance.”
“YetIhavethegirlandyou’resittingonacoucharguingwithherfriends’significantothers,”Alexsaidmildly.“Ifyoudon’thavefeelingsforStella,youwouldn’tbesoworkedupoverit.”
“Exactly.”Joshnoddedlikeheknewmeeventhoughwe’dexchangedatotaloffivewordspriortotoday.
Mysmilewaspureice.“Iwouldspendmoretimeimprovingyourchessskillsandlessworryingaboutotherpeople’sbusiness,Josh.I’vebeatAlexinchess.Haveyou?”
Josh’ssmiledisappeared.“Whatdoyoumean,you’vebeatAlexinchess?Whendidyouplaychesstogether?”HewhippedhisheadtowardAlex.“You’vebeenplayingchesswithsomeoneelse
?”
Alexclosedhiseyesbrieflybeforeheopenedthemandglaredatme,hisexpressionfilledwithfrost-tippedvenom
Mysmilewidened.“Wehaveastandingchessdateeverymonth.”Iswirledmydrinkinmyglass.“Didn’thetellyou?”
Joshlookedstricken.“Youhaveanother,secretbestfriend
?But…I’m
yourbestfriend!Iboughtyouabananafloatforyourbachelorparty!”
“Idon’twantabananafloat,andhe’snot
mybestfriend.”Alex’sglareintensified.
Ishrugged,mymeaningclear.Whatcanyoudo?C’estlavie.
Itwasn’tmyfaulthewassoantisocialthathisbestfriendfreakedoutathimspendingtimewithsomeoneelse.
“Ican’tbelieveit.Standingchessdate,”Joshmutteredfuriously.“Wasthat
whyyouwouldn’twatchthelatestMarvelmoviewithme?BecauseyouknowI’vebeendyingtoseethatmovieforweeks…”
Rhyswastoobusylaughingtopayattentiontothedramaunfoldinglessthanthreefeetaway.
“WaittillItellBridget.She’sgoingtolove
this.”
Mytemporarygoodmoodevaporated.“Youwon’ttellhershit.”
“SureIwon’t.”Hisbigframeshookwithmirth.
Mybackteethclenchedwithaggravation.
IftherewasonethingIdespised,besidesincompetenceandValentine’sDay,itwaspeoplediggingintomypersonalbusiness.
Onceuponatime,AlexandRhyswouldagree.Now,theyweretoowhippedbytheirotherhalvestoconductthemselveswithamodicumofself-respect.Alexmakingajoke?Rhysgivinguphisprivacyforalifetimeofpaparazziandribboncuttings?
Itwasnauseating.
StellaandIweredifferent.
Ididn’tloveher,butIwantedherwithanintensitythatlefttheflimsy,overusedconceptofloveinthedust.Itwasn’tsweetorsaccharine.Therewerenorainbowsorunicorns,onlydesireedgedwithroughnessanddarkness.
HotJunedays.Secretsmiles.Turquoise.
I’dwaitedalongtime.
Eventually,Iwouldcatchher,andonceIdid,Iwasneverlettinghergo.26
STELLA
Ifinished
thefirstpieceofmycollectionfourdaysafterJoshandJules’shousewarming.
Ithungonthebackofmydoorinaspillofsilkandsinuouslines,itsgoldencolorastarkcontrasttothedarkwoodbackground.
Itwasn’tperfect,andthefabricwasexpensive,whichmeantIneededabetterwholesaleoptionifIwantedtoscaleupproduction,butitwasdone.
Thefirsttangibleevidencemydreamsweren’tjustdreamsandthatIwasfinallytakingconcretestepstowardmakingthemreality.
Acompletedraft,nomatterhowimperfect,wasstillbetterthannodraftatall.
Andthiswasmyownpattern,owndesign.Thiswasn’tjustaquickSimplicityPatterndressI’dmadeoverChristmasbreakoneyear.Thiswasmine.
Toomuchplanningisaformofprocrastination.
Lilah’swordsfromourcoffeedateechoedinmyheadasIranmyhandoverthedress’sbodice.Thesmoothglideofitagainstmyskinsentathrilldartingthroughmyblood.Ifyouwantabrand,youneedaproduct.Createagreatproduct,
thenworryabouteverythingelse.
The“everythingelse”encompassedpricing,sourcing,outreachtoretailbuyers,andathousandotherdetailsthatoverwhelmedmeeverytimeIlookedatmyto-dolist,butIhadaproductandaplan.
Everythingelsewillflowfromthere
Astrangeemotionwelledinmythroat,sounfamiliarittookmeaminutetoidentifyit:pride.
Ihadn’tfeltitwhenIhitamillionfollowersorwhenIwokeupthenextdaytoafloodofbrandcollaboffers.Butnow,standinginfrontofadressthat’dtakenmeadaytosewandalifetimetocreate,thewarmglowofpridecrestedoverme.
Myentirelife,I’dcreatedforotherpeople.Myblogpostswereformyaudience,myphotoswereformyfollowers,mygradeshadbeenformyparents,andmyideashadbeenforD.C.Style
whenIworkedthere.
ThiswasthefirsttimeinalongtimethatI’ddonesomethingforme
,andhonestly?Itfeltdamngood.
Weightlessnessexpandedinmychestandpulledahugesmileoutofme.Ididn’tevencarethatmymonthlyfamilydinnerwasthatnight.Nothing
couldbringmedown—
MyphonelitupwithanincomingcallfromNatalia.
…exceptforaconversationwithmysister.
Mysmiledimmed,butenoughgiddinessremainedthatmyvoicecameoutchirpierthanusualwhenIpickedup.
“Hey,Nat.”
“ThisisareminderthatMomandDadareexpectingyoutobringyourboyfriendtonight.”Nataliadispensedwiththeniceties.“Remindhimtocomepreparedwithanaccomplishmenttoshare.”
Yes,guestswereexpectedtosharetheiraccomplishmentsatanAlonsofamilydinner.Howelsewouldmyfamilyjudgewhethertheywereworthyofanotherinvite?
“Christiancan’tmakeit.”IputNataliaonspeakerphonesoIcouldfinishgettingready.I’dlosttrackoftimeoglingmydress,andIwasdueatmyparents’houseinanhour.“Hewantstobethere,buthegotsicklastminute.Fever,chills,thewholething.”
Itwasscaryhoweasilytheliespilledfrommytongue.
Itclatteredtothegroundwithasoftplink,
joiningthedozensofotheruntruthsI’dutteredoverthepastfewmonths.
“Really.”Natalia’stonewentflatwithsuspicion.“Howconvenient.”
Itwistedmyhairintoabun,hopingshecouldn’theartherapidpitter-patterofmyheart.“It’sunfortunate,butsicknessdoesn’tconformtoourpersonalschedules.”
Morelies.Icouldmakeakillingasacarsalespersonifmyclothinglinedidn’tpanout.
Guiltspearedmychest,butIheldfast.TherewasnowayinhellI’dsubjectevenmyworstenemytodinnerwiththeAlonsos.Plus,Irequiredaclearmindandallmyfacultiestodealwithmyparents,andiftherewasonethingChristianwasgoodat,itwascloudingmyjudgment.
“MomandDadwon’tbehappy,”Nataliawarned.“Theywerelookingforwardtomeetingyourboyfriend.”
Moreliketheywerelookingforwardtogrillinghim.JarvisandMikaAlonsohadastrictlistofrequirementstheyexpectedfromafutureson-in-law,andwhileChristiantickedoffalmosteverybox—wealthy,well-educated,cultured—theinterrogationprocesswouldbetorture.
“Youpostabouthimsomuch.Itmustbeserious.”
MysisterwassoobviousaboutherfishingIwould’velaughedhadInotbeensickwithnerves.
“We’retakingthingsdaybyday.”Idustedblushonmycheeks.“I’msureMomandDadwillunderstand.Besides,youknowhowMomiswithgerms.Shewouldn’twantasickguestatdinner—”
“Actually,I’mfeelingmuchbetter.”
Ispunaround,mypulseskyrocketingatthesightofChristianleaningagainstthewoodenframe,hissuitjacketoffandonehandinhispocket.Astraylockofdarkhairfellinhiseye,beggingmetobrushitback.
“Iwasoutofcommissionyesterday,butI’mgoodasnewtoday.”HeaddressedNataliaoverspeakerphone,buthiseyesdidn’tleavemine.“SoStella,darling,I’llbeabletoaccompanyyoutodinnerafterall.”
Thiswasn’thappening.
Christianwould
overhearustheone
timeIputNataliaonspeaker.
Someoneinthehighheavensmusthateme.PerhapsIshouldn’thaveskippedchurchsomuchsinceImovedoutofmyfamily’shouse.
Whatareyoudoing?
Imouthed,hopingmyglareconveyedthefullextentofmydispleasure.
Hisonlyresponsewasasmirkthatmademereconsidermystanceonnon-violence.
Thoushaltdonoharm…unlessyourfakeboyfriendwastryingtocrashadinnerwithyouroverbearingfamily.
Thenagain,dinnershouldbepunishmentenough.OnemealwiththeAlonsoswouldsendeventhemightyChristianHarperrunningforthehills.
“Oh!”RaresurprisecoastedthroughNatalia’svoicebeforesherecovered.“That’sgoodtohear.”Theedgesofherwordssoftenednowthatsheknewsomeoneelsewasintheroom.“We’llseeyouinanhour,then.”
“Yes,youwill.Lookingforwardtoit,”Christiandrawled.
IhungupbeforeIvoicedtheaggravationbubblinginmyveins.“What
wasthat?”
Cool,calm,collected.Cool,calm—
“Thatwasmeagreeingtodinneratmygirlfriend’shouse.”Christianstraightenedandranahandoverhistie.“We’vebeendatingformonths.It’stimeImetyourparents,don’tyouthink?”
“We’renotactuallydating.”
“Theydon’tknowthat.”Hiscalmrebuttalonlyinfuriatedmemore.“Ihavetomeetthemeventually.Thereareonlysomanyexcusesyoucanmake.Thisway,wegetthemeetingoutoftheway,andthey’llstopbadgeringyou.”
Hehadapoint.Still,Ihatedhowhe’dgoneaboutit.
Dinnerwasinlessthananhour,andIwasn’tmentallypreparedforamealwithChristianand
myfamily.
Howwouldmyparentsreacttohim?Howwouldhe
reacttothem
?I’dseenhowChristiancouldcharmatableinNewYork,butthathadbeenwithfriends.
ThelasttimeIbroughtaboyhome—QuentinSullivan,highschoolprom—myparentshadgrilledhimsorelentlesslyabouthisGPA,collegeacceptances,andfive-yearplanthathe’dburstintotearsduringthelimoridetothedance.Theminutewearrived,hemumbledsomethingaboutmakingamistakeandspenttherestofthenightdancingwithsomeothergirl.
Christianhadnoideawhathe’dgottenhimselfinto.
***
Ourridetomyparents’
housewasassilentastheonetoJoshandJules’overtheweekend.
Hisconfessionaboutwantingmewastheelephantineveryroomwewereintogether,butneitherofusaddressedit
Ididn’tknowhow
toaddressit.Maybeit’dbeeasierifIdidn’twanthimtoo,buteverytimeItriedtobringitup,mynervesgotthebetterofme.
IsnuckapeekatChristian.Theairbetweenushummedwithahundredspokenwords.TheytightenedmylungsandcutofftheflowofoxygenuntilIgrewlightheaded.
Theairconditioningwason,butIcrackedthewindowopenandsuckedinasmallgaspoffreshair.
Westoppedataredlight.
Christiandidn’tsayawordaboutthewindow,buttheheatofhisstarewaslikeabrandagainstmyskin.
Ikeptmyeyesoutthewindowandawayfromhimuntilwearrivedatmyparents’house,wherebiggerworriesdrownedoutourtension.
Asexpected,myfamilygreetedhimthewaytheywouldanyguest—politeandwelcomingonthesurface,butsecretlysizinghimupwitheverymovehemadeandeverywordoutofhismouth.
He’dbroughtatwo-thousand-dollarvintageredfromhisextensivewinecollectionwithus,whichendearedhimtomymother,butmydadwashardertoimpress.
“I’veheardofyou.”Jarvis’stonesuggestedwhatheheardwasn’tparticularlyflatteringforChristian.“HarperSecurity,correct?”
“Yes,sir.”Christianpassedmethebowlofmashedpotatoes.He’ddonnedamorecasualoutfitthanhisusualsuitsfordinner,butsomehow,thebutton-downshirtandjeansmadehimlookevenmoreintimidating,likeawolfinsheep’sclothing.Ahintofchallengedisguisedasasmileflirtedatthecornersofhismouth.“Iworkwiththegovernmentonoccasion.IknowSecretaryPalmerwell.”
Mydad’sfacesettledintoamaskofgrimlinesatthementionofhisboss.“I’msureyoudo.”
Theclinkofplatesandglassesreplacedconversationuntilthemaincourse.Thelullgavemeachancetorehearsemyanswerforourtraditionalsharingofaccomplishments.
Ifinishedthefirstpieceofmyfashioncollection.Oh,didIforgettotellyou?I’mstartingafashionbrand.Ihavea—

“How’syourjobatD.C.Style
going?”Natalia’squestionslicedthroughmyinnermusings.
Istillhadn’ttoldmyfamilyI’dgottenfired.EverytimeItried,thewordsmadeithalfwayupmythroatbeforetheywitheredanddied.
“It’sfine.”Iraisedmywaterglasstomylipsandhopednoonedetectedtheslightshakeinmyhand.
“Hmm.”ThescrapeofNatalia’sforkagainstherplatesoundedlikenailsagainstachalkboard.“Youknowwhat’sfunny?Iwasintheneighborhoodtheotherday.Ihadameetingnearyouroffice,soIthoughtI’ddropbyandsayhi.ButwhenIshowedup,thereceptionistsaidyoudon’tworkthereanymore.Shesaidyouhaven’tworkedthereinalmosttwomonths.”
Allmovementstoppedlikeshe’dpressedpause
onthescene.Wewerenolongerpeoplebutwaxstatuesofourselves,frozenintoagrotesquetableauofshockanddenial.
Christianwastheonlyonewhoshowedahintoflife.Hisconcernedwarmthcaressedmysuddenlyicyskin,andtheevenriseandfallofhischeststeadiedsomeofmynerves.
I’dthoughthispresenceatdinnerwouldthrowmeoff-kilter,butitwasdoingtheexactopposite.
Icouldn’tsaythesameformyparents,though.
Myfather’sskinhadleachedofcolor,andmymother’smouthformedasurprisedredO.IttookalottosurpriseJarvisandMikaAlonso,andacrazy,inanepartofmewantedtowhipoutmyphoneandrecordthemomentforposterity.
“Itoldthemitmustbeamistake.”Natalia’seyespinnedmelikeabugtotheground.“There’snowayyougotfiredanddidn’ttellus.Right,Stella?”
Regretcoatedthebackofmytongueintheformofbile.
Theurgetolieagainwassogreatitalmostdraggedmeunderitsspell,butIcouldn’tkeepupthecharadeforever.Eventually,they’ddiscoverthetruth.
Itwastimetostophidingandownuptowhathappened.
“Itwasn’tamistake.I’mnotworkingatD.C.Style
anymore.”Everysyllablescrapedmythroatonitswayout.“Igotfiredinmid-February.”
Silenceclungtotheroomforanotherbeatbeforeitexplodedintocursesandshouts.
“Mid-February!Howcouldyoukeepthisfromusforsolong?”mymotherdemandedinJapanese.
ShegrewupinKyotoandrevertedtoherfirstlanguagewhenevershewasupset.
“Iwaswaitingfortherighttimetotellyou,”IansweredinEnglish.
Ihadn’tpracticedJapaneseinyears,butitsliltwassofamiliarIfeltlikeIwassittinginweekendschoolagain.MyparentshadbeentoobusytoteachmeandNataliatheformalities,sothey’denrolledusinSpanish,German,andJapaneseclasseswhenwewerechildren.Theysaiditwastohelpusconnectwithourmixedheritage,butIsuspectedithadmoretodowiththefactforeignlanguageproficiencylookedgoodoncollegeapplications.
“Andwhathaveyoubeendoingallthistime?”Thequietrumbleofmyfather’sangerseepedintoeverycorneroftheroom.“Youhaven’tfoundanewjobintwomonths?”
Itwistedmynecklacearoundmyfingeruntilitcutoffmycirculation.
Cool,calm,collected.
“Ihaven’tappliedforanotherofficejob.Iearnalotofmoneyfrommyblog,andIjustsignedacampaigndealwithabigbrand.Sixfigures.I’mearningafull-timeincome.”
“Perhaps,butit’snotastable
income.”Jarvispressedhislipssotightlytogethertheywerenothingbutaslashofwhiteagainsthisbrownskin.“Whathappenswhenthedealsdryup?Orifyouloseyouraccount?Whataboutanemergencyfund?Howmuchdoyouhaveinsavings?”
Hefiredthequestionslikebullets.
“I…”IglancedatChristian,whotippedhischininasilentshowofsupport.Hisexpressionwasplacid,butsomethingturbulentlurkedbeneathhiseyes.AshiverscampereddownmyspinebeforeIfacedthefiringsquadagain.
“Idon’tplanonbecomingafull-timeinfluencer.Iactually…”Justsayit.
“I’mgoingtocreatemyowndesigns.Forafashionline.AndIhaveabitofsavingsleft,butI’llreplenishitonceIgetmynextpaymentfortheDelamontecampaign.”
Aguillotineofsilencehungsuspendedoverthetablebeforeitslicedthroughtheairandtriggeredanotherexplosion.
“Youcannotbeserious!”Mikagrippedherforkwithawhite-knuckledhand.“Afashiondesigner?
Stella,yougraduatedfromThayer.Youcanbeanything!Whyintheworldwouldyouchoosedesign?”
Myfatherwasstuckontheotherpartofmybombshell.“Whatdoyoumean,youhaveabitofsavingsleft
?Wheredidtherestofitgo?”
Sweatdampenedthenapeofmyneck.
Gobigorgohome.
Myparentswerealreadypissedatme.ImightaswellriptheBand-Aidoffmyothersecretanddealwiththeconsequencesallatonce.
“I’vebeenpayingforMaura’scareatanassistedlivingfacility.”Ireleasedmynecklaceandtuckedmyhandsbeneathmythighstopreventthemfromshaking,butmyrightkneebouncedwithnerves.
Itwasagoodthingmymomcouldn’tsee,orshe’dyellatmeforthattoo.AccordingtoJapanesesuperstitions,shakingone’sleginvitedtheghostsofpovertyorsomethinglikethat.Itwasoneofmymother’sbiggestpetpeeves.
“ShehasAlzheimer’s,”Icontinued.Myhandcurledaroundtheedgeofthechairforsupport.“I’vebeenpayingherroomandboardforthepastfewyears.That’swheremostofmymoneyhasgone.”
Thistime,thesilencewasn’tablade;itwasaboaconstrictorwrappingitselfaroundmylimbsandstranglingmeuntilmybreathspuffedoutintinyburstsofair.
Mymotherpaleduntilsheresembledapapercutoutofherself.“Whywouldyoudothat?”
“Becauseshehasnooneelse,Mom.Shetookcareofme—”
“Sheisnot
family,”Mikabitout.“We’regratefulfortheyearsshespentwithyougirls,andIunderstandwhyyouhaveanattachmenttoher.Butshehasn’tbeenyournannyinmorethanadecade,andyouaren’tswimminginmoney,Stella.You’reunemployed,forChrist’ssake.EvenwhenyouworkedatD.C.Style,yoursalarywaspitiful.Spendingtensofthousandsofdollarsayearcaringforaformerfamilyemployeewhenyou’renotfinanciallystableisthemostirresponsible,foolish—”
Angerlitamatchinmystomachanderadicatedeveryounceofguiltovermylies.
IhatedhowmyparentsdismissedMauraasamereformerfamilyemployee
whenshe’dbeensomuchmore.She’dsungmetosleepasachild,guidedmethroughtheturbulentyearsofpuberty,andweatheredthestormofmyearlyhighschoolangstwithremarkablepatience.She’dbeenthereforeveryskinnedkneeandeveryteenageheartbreak,andshedeservedmorethanapassingacknowledgmentforallshe’ddone.
Withouther,myparentswouldn’tbewheretheyaretoday.She’dkeptthehouseholdtogetherwhiletheybuilttheircareersintolegends.
“Maurais
family.Shewasmoreofamothertomethanyoueverwere!”ThewordsburstforthbeforeIcouldstopthem.
Natalia’sgaspdrownedouttheclatterofherforkagainstherplate.Shehadn’tsaidawordsincesheoutedmyfiringfromD.C.Style,
buthereyeswerethesizeofsaucersasshegapedatme.
Neitherofushadtalkedbacktoourparentssinceourrebelliousteenageyears.Eventhen,ourrebellionhadbeenmild—asnarkycommenthere,anightofsneakingouttoafriend’spartythere.
Weweren’ttheposterchildrenforbadbehavior,butI…ohGod.I’dbasicallytoldmymothershewasashittymom.Infrontofaguestandtherestofourfamily.Atdinner.
ThepastaIateearlierchurnedinmystomach,andIfacedtheveryrealpossibilitythatImightthrowupalloverMika’sfavoriteWedgwoodset.
MymotherreeledlikeI’djustbackhandedher.Ifshe’dbeenpalebefore,shewasaghostnow,hercheekscompletelyblanchedofcolorlikesomeonehadsuckedthelifeoutofher.
Foronce,MikaAlonso,oneofthemostfearedattorneysinthecity,thewomanwhohadananswerforeveryquestionandarebuttalforeveryargument,wasspeechless.
IwishedIfeltgoodaboutit,butallIfeltwasnausea.Ididn’twanttohurther.Ihadn’texpectedmywordsto
hurtherbecausethey’dbeensoobvious.MymotherhadneverbeenaroundwhenIwasachild.She’doncejokedherselfthatMaurawasoursurrogatemother
Buttherewasnodenyingthehurtfillinghereyesandtwistingherfaceintoanunrecognizableversionofitself.
Besideher,myfather’sfacewasunrecognizableaswell,excepthiswasdarkwithbarelyleashedfury.
“Yousteppedovertheline,Stella.”Hislowvoicesentanotherwaveofnauseacrashingagainstmyinsides.“Apologizetoyourmother.Rightnow.”
Thebacksofmythighspressedagainstthetopsofmyhandswhilemyheadswirledwithathousandresponses.
Icouldapologizeandsmooththingsover.Anythingtoerasemymother’shurtandmyfather’sanger.
Thelittlegirlinmestillcringedatthethoughtofmakingmyparentsmad,butanythinglessthanfullhonestywouldonlybeatemporarysalveforafesteringwound.
“I’msorryifIhurtyou,Mom.”Thecrackinmyvoicematchedtheonesplittingmychest.“ButMaurapracticallyraisedme.Webothknowthat’strue,andshedoesn’thaveanyoneelsetocareforher.ShespenttheprimeyearsofherlifelookingaftermeandtreatingmelikeIwasherowndaughter.Ican’tleaveheralonenowwhensheneedsme.”
Ididn’tlookatNatalia,who’dlikedMaurabutdidn’thavethesamebondwithher.Myparents’careershadn’ttakenoffuntilIwasfiveandNataliawasten.Bythen,she’dbeentoooldtoformthesameattachmenttoournannythatIhad.
Shewouldn’ttakemyside.Sheneverdid.
Otherthanasmallflinch,mymotherdidn’treacttomywords.Myfather,ontheotherhand,grewevenangrier.
JarvisAlonsodidnottakewelltopeopledisobeyinghisorders.
Thunderswallowedtheusuallywarmbrownofhiseyesuntiltheyturnedahard,implacableblack.
I’dneverbeenscaredofmyfather,atleastnotinthephysicalsense.Butinthatmoment,Iwasterrifiedofhim.
Whenhespokeagain,itwasinarumblinggrowlheusuallyreservedfordiscussionsaboutforeigndictatorsandterroristcells.
“StellaRosalieAlonso,ifyoudonotapologizetoyourmotherthisinstant,Iwill—”
“Isuggestyoudon’tfinishthatsentence.”
Christian’squietvoiceslicedthroughthetoxicfumesofmyfather’sangerliketheydidn’texist.
LikeNatalia,he’dbeensilentsincedinnerwentofftherails,butthetensionpouringoffhimsaidathousandwords.
Ifmyfather’sfurywasagatheringstorm,Christian’swasadark,silenttsunami.Bythetimethoseinitspathscenteddanger,itwastoolate.
Andasmyeyesdartedbetweenmyfather’spulsatingjawandChristian’slethalstare,Ihadasinkingfeelingthatthebadeveningwasonlygoingtogetworse.27
CHRISTIAN
“Are
youthreateningmeinmyownhome?”AsteeledgeranbeneathJarvisAlonso’svoice.
“Notthreatening,sir.Suggesting
.”
Thecontrastbetweenmypolitetoneandthetensioncracklingintheairdrenchedanotherwisedeferentialaddresswithmockery.
IrestedmyhandonStella’sthighbeneaththetable,stillingher.She’ddoneanadmirablejobofkeepingherexpressioncalm,buttinyshiverstrembledundermytouch.
I’dheldoffsayinganythingforaslongasIcould.Itwasn’tinmynaturetositquietlywhenfacedwithinjusticedonetome,andeveryfuckingslightagainstStellawasaslightagainstme.Buttoher,thiswasapersonalissuewithherfamily.Sheneededtostanduptothemandsayherpiecewithoutanyoneelsesteppingin.
Icoulddealwithherparentsgettingangry,eventhoughthey’dbeenpissingmeoffallevening.ButwhatIwouldnottoleratewasanyone,evenStella’sfleshandblood,guilt-trippingherintogivinganapologytheydidn’tdeserve.
IfixedJarviswithapleasantsmilethatdidn’tmatchmyicytone.
“Ifyou’rewonderingwhyyourdaughterwouldkeepthingsfromyou,lookinthemirror,”Isaid.“Lookathowyoureacted.Insteadofsupportingher,youattackedher.Insteadofbeingproudofherdriveandpassion,youforceherintoaboxshedoesn’tbelongin.Stellaisoneofthemostselfless,creative,andbrilliantpeopleIknow,yetyoubelittleherfornotconformingtoyourlimiteddefinitionsofsuccess.Why?Becauseyou’reembarrassedtohaveachildwhodaredstrayfromtherigidpathyouyourselftook?Yourpridemattersmoretoyouthanherhappiness,yetyou’resurprisedthatsheconsiderstheonlyadultwhowasthereforhergrowinguptobemoreofaparentthaneitherofyouwere.”
Iaddressedthelastsentencetobothherfatherandmother,whohadn’tstirredsinceStella’soutburst.
Thewomanmustbeinshock.
Good.Shedeservedit.
Ragewasamonsterinmygut,aimedatbothStella’sparentsforjumpingdownherthroataboutherfuckingfinanceswithoutasinglethoughtabouthowshewasfeelingandhersisterforexposingherdeparturefromD.C.Style
insuchacruel,vindictivemanner.
HowmanyofStella’sinsecuritieshadstemmedfromgrowingupinsuchajudgmentalhousehold?
Mostofthem,Ibet.
TheonlyleashonmyangerwasStella’spresenceandthefactthiswasherfamily.Despiteherstrainedrelationshipwiththem,sheprobablywouldn’treactwellifIdrainedtheirbankaccountsortargetedtheirdeviceswithdestructiveviruses.TherewasoneparticularlynastycodeI’ddevelopedoutofboredomlastyearthatcouldcollectanddestroyallthedataonaninfecteddeviceuntilsaiddevicewasnothingmorethanauselesslumpofmetalinlessthantenminutes.
Jarvisglaredatme,aveinthrobbingsohardathistempleIexpectedittoburstatanysecond.
“Thisisafamily
matter,”Jarvisgrowled.“Idon’tcarehowlongyou’vebeendatingStella.Youarenot,andneverwillbe,family.Iknowyourreputation,ChristianHarper.Youpretendyou’reanupstandingbusinessman,butyou’reasnakeinthegrass.You’vegotbloodalloveryourhands,AndifyouthinkI’mlettingyouanywherenearmydaughteraftertonight,you’resorelymistaken.”
Iexaminedhimwithafaintsmile.
Fewthingsamusedmemorethanpeopletryingtothreatenme.
HewasStella’sfather,whichofferedhimsomedegreeofprotection.
Butwhatsecretslurkedinthecybersewersofhisdigitallife?Digdeepenough,andtherewasalwayssomething.Googlesearchhistories,photos,linkclicksandemailsandprivatechatrooms.People’sonlineliveswererifewithinformation,mostofittossedoutsocasuallytheownerdidn’tthinktwiceabouthowitcouldincriminatethem.
Itwasagoldmineforsomeonelikeme.
IfJarvisAlonsothoughthecouldholdStellaovermyhead,he’dfindouthowquicklyandeasilyIcouldexposetheskeletonsinhiscloset.
“LeaveChristianoutofthis.”Stella’ssoft,fiercevoiceinterruptedmymusings.“Idon’tcareaboutunfoundedrumorsorwhatyouthink
youknowabouthim.Here’swhatIknowfromfirsthandexperience:he’sbeennothingexcepthelpfulsincewe’vemet.HeencouragedmetofollowmydreamsandbelievedinmewhenIdidn’tbelieveinmyself.He’sbeenmoresupportiveofmeinthefewmonthsI’veknownhimthanyou’vebeenofmemyentirelife,andIwon’tletyouinsulthimforstandingupforme.”
IwassostartledIalmostflinchedbeforeIcaughtmyself.
Somethingwarmandforeignmovedinmychest,eatingawayatthesteelbarriersI’derected.
Noonehaddefendedmebefore.Ever.
Ididn’tneedorwantthemto,butStellahadalwaysbeentheexceptiontomyeveryrule,andseeinghersostrongandclear-eyedwithconvictionlitamatchofprideinmychest.
HerconvictionwasmisplacedbecauseIwasexactlywhatherfatheraccusedmeof—asnakeinthegrass,amonsterwithbloodyhandsandabloodierpast.Butafterseeingmyselfthroughherrose-tintedglasses,Iwished,forthefirsttimeinmylife,thatIwasthemanshethoughtIwas.
Ruthless,perhaps,buthonorableathiscore.
Inreality,theonlybitsofhonorIpossessedthesedaysweretheonesreflectedinhereyes.
“Getout.”Jarvisdidn’tsomuchasblinkatStella’sspeech.Hisfurywasaquietthing,butitwasall-encompassinginitsintensity.Therewouldbenoreasoningwithhimtonight.“Ifyouwouldrathersidewithanoutsideryou’veknownforafewmonthsoveryourfamily,thenyoudon’tbelongatthistable.”
Stellawentrigidwhilehermothersuckedinasharpbreath.“Jarvis—”
“Rightnow,Stella.”Heignoredhiswife’sbrokenprotest.“Leave
beforeIthrowyououtmyself.”
Nataliastirred,uneasefinallyslidingoverherfaceattheshitstormshe’dunleashed.“Daddy—”
“Perfecttiming.Wewerejustabouttoexcuseourselves.”IfoldedmynapkinintoaneatsquareandplaceditonthetablebeforeIpushedbackmychair.“Stella.”
Iplacedagentlehandonhershoulder,rousingherfromherstupor.
Shestoodand,afteralastglanceatherfrozenfamily,followedmeoutthedoor.
Silencefollowedusintothecarandontotheroadlikeanunwantedinterloper,butIletitsituntilStellabrokeitherself.
“Hekickedmeout.”Shestaredoutthewindow,soundingdazed.“Mydadhasneverevenyelledatmebefore.”
“Youhitanerve.Hewouldn’thavereactedsostronglyifapartofhimdidn’tknowyouwereright.”
“Yeah,well.”Sheletoutawaterylaugh.“NowyouknowwhyIdidn’twantyouatdinner.Myfamilyputsthedys
indysfunction.”
Agrimsmiletouchedmylips.Ifshethoughtherfamilywasdysfunctional,waittillshelearnedaboutmine.
Notthatsheeverwould.
“I’veseenworse.”IstoppedataredlightandslantedaglanceatStella,myfacesoftening.“Youdidn’thavetodefendme.”
“Iwantedto.”Theconvictioninhervoicesentastrangepangthroughmychest.“Youdidn’tdeservetobeattackedlikethat.Youwerestandingupforme,andit’sonlyrightthatIdothesame.”Ahintofredcoloredhercheekbones.“Besides,whatIsaidwastrue.Eventhoughyoupissmeoffsometimes”—mymouthcurvedatheruncharacteristicbutadorableuseofthetermpissmeoff
—“you’reagoodpersonbeneathitall.”
Iwould’velaughedatherassessmenthaditnotsharpenedthepangintoabladethatslottedneatlybetweenmyribcage.
“Youputtoomuchfaithinpeople.I’mnottheknightyouthinkIam,”Isaidsoftly.
Itwasawarningasmuchasitwasacompliment.
Iusuallyscoffedatthosewhowerenaiveenoughtobelievepeoplewereinherentlygoodwhentherewassomuchevilintheworld.Oneonlyhadtoturnonthenewstowitnessthedepthsofdepravitytowhichhumanitycouldandwouldsink.
Butforsomereason,Stella’sunwaveringbeliefinthegoodnessofpeoplestruckachordinsidemeIhadn’tknownexisted.
Shewasn’ttheonlylightofoptimismaroundme,butshewastheonlyonethatmattered.
“Maybenot.Butyou’renotthevillainyouthinkyouare,either.”Thepassingstreetlightscastherfaceinawarmgoldenglow,highlightingherdelicatefeaturesandthetrustshininginthosebeautifuljadeeyes.
Ifyouonlyknew…
Thelightturnedgreen.MyeyeslingeredonherforanextrasecondbeforeIfacedforwardandsteppedonthegas.
Wedidn’tspeakagainduringtheride,butatthenextredlight,Icurledmyhandoverhersonthecenterconsoleandkeptitthereuntilwearrivedhome.28
STELLA
April
27
There’safifty-fiftychancemyfatherdisownedmetonight.I’veneverseenhimthatmad,notevenwhenIscratchedhisbrand-newBenzafterIgotmydriver’slicenseandsecretlytookitoutforajoyride.(Inmydefense,thatcurbcameoutofnowhere).
Butyouknowwhattheworstpartis?It’snotthehurtinmymother’seyesorthewaymysisteroutedme.It’snotevenmyfatherkickingmeoutofthehouse.
It’sthefactthatIwouldn’thavechangedwhatIdidevenknowingwhattheoutcomewouldbe.
I’vealwaysbeenthequiet,obedientdaughter.Theonewhodideverythingmyparentsasked,whoapologizedevenwhenIdidn’tneeditto,andwhobentoverbackwardtomakesureeveryonewashappy.
Buteverypersonhasalimit,andI’vereachedmine.
I’mprettysurenothingIdowillbegoodenoughformyfamily,sowhyeventry?ImightaswelltellthemthetruthabouthowIfeel.Ishould’vedoneitalongtimeago.Buthonestly,Idon’tthinkIwould’vefoundthecouragetodosotonightifChristianhadn’tbeenthere.
It’sironic.Ididn’twanthimtogo,butheendedupbeingthebestpartofmynight.There’ssomethingabouthim…Idon’tknowhowtoexplainit.ButhemakesmefeellikeIcanbeanyoneIwanttobe.
Betteryet,hemakesmefeellikeIcanbewhoIam.
Doesthatsoundcheesy?Probably.
Icringedreadingthatlineoverjustnow,butit’sokay.You’retheonlyonewho’lleverseethisanyway,andIknowyouwon’tjudge.
Actually,thatdescribeshowIfeelaboutChristianperfectly,likehewon’tjudgemenomatterwhatIsayordo.AndinaworldwhereI’mconstantlybeingjudged—onlineandinreallife—that’sthebestfeelingintheworld.
DailyGratitude:
Completingthefirstpieceofmycollection
Thespeakerphonefunction
ChristianEarlynights
Christian
***
“Are
youpackingforthreedaysorthreemonths?”Christianeyedmymountainofluggagewitharaisedbrow.
“It’sHawaii
,Christian.”Iwedgedanotherswimsuitintomyoverstuffedsuitcase.“Myhaircarealonetakesupanentirebag.Doyouknowhowmuchhavocthebeachandhumiditywreaksoncurlyhair?”
“No.”Hisgazewasalightwithamusement.
“Exactly.”Istoodtocatchmybreath.
Mymusclesachedfromhoursofpacking.I’dputitoffuntilthelastminute,butIneededtogetitdonetoday
sinceIlefttomorrowforDelamonte’sbigphotoshootinHawaii.
Ididn’tmind.Packingwasawelcomedistractionfromthenervesswimminginmystomachandthespecterofmyfamily.
Ihadn’theardapeepfromthemsinceourdinnertwoweeksago,norhadIreachedouttothem.
OldStellawould’vecalledthemthenextmorning,apologizingprofuselyandwallowinginguiltoverwhathadhappened.
Granted,Idid
feelguilty,butnotenoughtobackdownfromthesilentbattleragingintheAlonsofamily.WhileIregrettedhurtingmyparents,Iwasstungthattheyweren’tevenattemptingtounderstandwhereIwascomingfrom.Plus,IwasstillstewingovermymothercallingMauraaformeremployee
andmyfatherinsultingChristian.
Iwasmoresurprisedthananyonebyhowmyprotectiveinstinctshadsurgedduringmyfather’srant.Christiandidn’tneedhelpdefendinghimself.Ididn’teventhinkhe’dbeenoffended;insultsbouncedoffhimlikerubberbulletsofftitanium.
Still,I’dhatedhearinghowmyfatherspoketohim.Hehadn’tdeservedthat.
“HowareyoufeelingaboutHawaii?”Christianasked.
Hewasworkingfromhometoday,buthewasstilldressedinasuitandtie.
Typical.
“Great.”Myvoicecameouthigherthanusual.“Excited.”
Iwipedmypalmsontheoutsidesofmythighsandtriedtocalmtherapidpitterpatter
ofmyheart.
Itwashalftrue.Iwas
excited.Hawaiiwasbeautiful,andthephotoshootwasthecornerstoneofDelamonte’snewcampaign.Thephotoswouldbeeverywhere
—online,inmagazines,maybeevenonbillboards.
Ididn’twanttobeaprofessionalmodel,buttheHawaiicampaigncoulddohugethingsformycareer.I’dalreadymadeenoughmoneyfrombrandpartnershipsthispastmonthtocovermyexpensesfortherestoftheyear;theDelamonteprintcampaignwouldskyrocketmyprofileevenfurther.
Butsuchanimportantshootalsocamewithatonofpressure.Itweighedonmyshouldersandateawayatmyexcitementuntilmyheadspunwithworst-casescenarios.
I’dgottenmorecomfortableposinginfrontofotherpeople’scamerassincemyfirstDelamonteshootinNewYork,butHawaiiwasdifferent.Hawaiiwasthebigone.
WhatifIfrozeanddidn’trecoverthewayIhadinNewYork?
Whatifallthephotoscameouthorrible?
WhatifIgotsickandcouldn’t
shootorbrokemylegonmywaytosetorsomething?
Thebrandwasspendingatonofthemoneyonthetrip,andweonlyhadthreedaystogetitright.
IfImesseditup…
IdippedmyheadandfocusedonfoldingasundresssoChristiandidn’tseethepanicinmyeyes.
Ishould’veknownthatwouldn’tfoolhim.
“Nervous?”heasked,eerilyastuteasusual.
Iswallowedpastthelumpinmythroat.“Alittle.”Alot
CouldDelamontefiremeforincompetenceinthemiddleofthecampaign?IhavetotalktoBradyandgooverthecontractagain.Maybethey’llthinktheymadeamistakeandhireRayainsteador—
“Don’tbe.You’lldogreat.”
“Youhavetoomuchconfidenceinme.”
“Youhavetoolittle.”Hisvoicewascloserthistime,avelvettouchagainstthebareskinofmyneckandshoulders.
Iturned,mypulseskippingabeatathisproximity.
I’veneverwantedsomeonemore,andI’veneverhatedmyselfmoreforit.
Thememoryofhiswordssparkedlikeelectricitybetweenus.Hiseyesflaredwithsomethingbrightandhotbeforetheydimmedagain,andmyheartreturnedtoitsnormalrhythm.
“Weleavetomorrowmorningateight.”Christiannoddedatmyluggage.“I’llhireasherpaforyou.”
“You’reexaggerating.I’mnottakingthat
muchstuff.”
Twolargesuitcases,oneduffelbag,andonetoteseemedperfectlyreasonableforthreedaysinHawaii.
“We’llagreetodisagree.Onasecurity-relatednote…”Christian’sdryamusementfadedintosomethingmoreserious.“TheHawaiishootisn’tasecret,butIstillwantyoutoholdoffonpostingyou’rethereuntilwe’rebackinD.C.”
Mystomachswoopedforawholeotherreason.
BetweenChristian’sconfession,myfamilydinner,andpreparingfortheshoot,I’dpushedworriesaboutmystalkertothebackofmymind.Nowtheycameroaringbackinonegiantwave.
“Dowehaveanyleadsyet?”
Ihadn’taskedhimforregularupdates.ThemoreIfocusedonit,themoreanxiousIgot,butIcouldn’tresistthistimearound.
“Nothingconcrete,butwe’regettingthere.HemightnotfollowyoutoHawaii,butit’sbettersafethansorry.”
“Right.”Irubbedathumbovermycrystalnecklace.“Right.”
Christian’sfacesoftened.“Everythingwillworkout,withtheshootandthestalker.Trustme.”
Thatwasthescarypart.Idid.
“Getsomerest.Wehavealongflighttomorrow,”hesaid.“AndStella?Leavetheunicorn.”
“Iwasn’tplanningontakinghim,”IgrumbledatChristian’sdepartingback.
Afterheleft,IsetMr.Unicornbackonhisperchnearmybed.“We’llvisitHawaiitogetheranothertime,”Itoldhimregretfully.
HewasmytrustycompanionwheneverItraveledsolo,butsinceChristianwasjoiningme,Ididn’tneed
tobringhim.IjustlikedhavingabitoffamiliaritywhenIvisitednewplaces.
Ifinishedpacking.
Myemotionsswungfromexcitementtodreadtonervousnessandbackagain,butIfeltbetterknowingChristianwouldbewithme.
Thebutterfliesinmystomachflutteredagainatthethoughtofthreedaysinparadisewithhim.
Itwasaworktrip,butstill.
IhadastrangesensewhateverhappenedinHawaiiwouldchangemylife.29
STELLA/CHRISTIAN
Christian
andIarrivedinKauaipastdinnertimethenextnight.
Insteadofventuringtothehotel’srestaurant,whichwouldtaketoomucheffort,weorderedroomserviceandsettledinthevilla’slivingroom.
Truetoform,ChristianhadtakenonelookattheroomDelamontebookedformeandupgradedustothelastremainingvilla.
Isnuckapeekathimasweateincompanionablesilence.
Heloungedagainsthissideofthecouch,lookinginfuriatinglysexywithhisrumpledshirtandtousledhair.Neitherofuslookedourbestaftertravelingallday,buthisdishevelmentonlymadehimhotter,notless.
“Likewhatyousee?”hedrawled.
“Yes.”Imadeapointoflookingaroundthegorgeousvilla.ItboastedstunningviewsofthePacific,andthelivingroomopenedontoafurnishedlanai,whichinturnleddirectlytoourprivatebeach.“Thisplaceisstunning.”
Thatwasn’twhathewasasking,buttherewasnoneedtoinflatehisego.HeknewIknewhewashot,sowhatwasthepointofsayingit?
Christian’sknowinglaughwarmedmystomachlikedecadenthotchocolate.
TherewasacertainmagicinseeinghimoutsidetheconfinesofD.C.LikeatDante’sdinner,he’dslippedintoamorerelaxedversionofhimself.
Nosuit,easylaughter.
“Ilikethisversionofyou.”Iheldmymugclosetomymouth.“You’remore…”Isearchedfortherightword.“Approachable.”
Asmileplayedatthecornersofhismouth.“AmI?”
“Let’sputitthisway.D.C.Christianlookslikehewouldmurderyouifyoucuthimoffintraffic.HawaiiChristianlookslikehewouldgiveyouarideifhesawyourcarbrokendownonthesideoftheroad.”
Therichsoundofhisamusementfilledthecornersoftheroomoncemore.“We’vebeeninHawaiiforlessthantwohours.”
“Exactly.Imaginewhatthreedaysinparadisewoulddotoyou.”Itookathoughtfulsipoftea.“DancinginaHawaiian-printshirt?Joiningmeforsunriseyoga?Givingupredmeat?
Thepossibilitiesareendless.”
“Stella.”Heleanedforward,hisfaceserious.“ThedayIwearaHawaiian-printshirtisthedaycowsfuckingfly.”
“Youneverknowattheratetechnologyisprogressing.Itcouldhappen,”Isaid,undeterred.“Youknowwhatyourproblemis?”
“Praydotell.I’montheedgeofmyseat.”
Iignoredhisunhelpfulsarcasm.“Youtakeyourselftooseriously,andyouworktoomuch.Youshouldtakemorevacations,oratleastconnectwithnatureeveryonceinawhile.It’sgoodforthesoul.”
“It’stoolateformysoul,Stella.”
Despitehislighttone,Isensedhewasn’tjoking.
Mysmilefaded.“Spokenlikeatruepessimist.”
“Realist.”
“Cynic.”
“Skeptic.”Christian’slipstuggedupatmyfrown.“Shallwecontinueplayingthesaurusormoveontoamoreinterestingtopic?”
“We’llmoveon,butonlybecauseIwanttospareyoutheindignityoflosing,”Isaidregally.
“That’sverykindofyou.”
Ididn’tappreciatetheknowinglaughterthreadedthroughhisvoice,butIletitslide.Hewaspayingforthisbeautifulvilla,afterall,andhe’dsavedmefromspendingtenhoursinacrampedairlineseat,watchingoldmoviesandtryingtopreventmylegsfromfallingasleep.
Therewerefewthingsmoreuncomfortablethanbeingatallpersonineconomy.
IsankdeeperintothecouchanddeliberatedonagoodtopicbeforeIsaid,“TellmesomethingaboutyouIdon’talreadyknow.”
I’dforgivenChristianforshuttingmeoutafterDante’sdinner,butIhadn’tgivenuptryingtoprymorepersonaltidbitsoutofhim.Ididn’tcareiftheywereassimpleashisfavoritesuperherogrowingup;Ijustwantedsomething.KnowingthingsaboutChristianwouldn’tdomuchtoprotectmyheart,butwewerestucktogetherfortheforeseeablefutureandIwantedtomakethebestofit.
Partofmeexpectedhimtoevadetherequestperusual,buttomysurprise,heansweredreadily.“Idon’tlikedessert.”
Ahorrifiedgasproseinmythroat.“All
dessert?”
“Alldessert,”heconfirmed.
“Why
?”
“Idon’thaveasweettooth.”
“Therearenon-sweetdesserts.”
“Yes,andIdon’tlikethem.”HetookacalmbiteofhisfoodwhileIstaredathimindisbelief.
“ItakebackwhatIsaid.Yoursoulisdefinitelysuspect.It’snotnormalforsomeonenottolikedessert.”Isearchedforaplausibleexplanation.“Maybeyouhaven’tmettherightdessertyet.”
Whocouldhatebaklava,cheesecake,andicecream?Thedevil,thatwaswho.
“PerhapsI’llmeetitatthesametimeImeetmysoulmate,”Christiandeadpanned.
“Youjoke,butitcouldhappen.Andwhenitdoes,I’ll…”Ifaltered.
Threatsweren’tmyforte.
“Yes?”Hesoundedlikehewasholdingbackanotherlaugh.
“I’llneverletyouheartheendofit.”
“Lookingforwardtoit.”Christiantookpityonmeaftermylameresponseandswitchedsubjects.“Timetoreciprocate,Butterfly.TellmesomethingIdon’tknowaboutyou.”
“Can’tyoulookupeverythingyouwanttoknowononeofyourfancycomputers?”Iwasonlyhalfjoking.
“I’dratherhearitfromyou.”
Forsomereason,thatsentaflutterthroughmychest.
I’dplannedonsharingsomethingsillyandlighthearted,likehowIwatchedYouTubetarotreadingswhenIfeltdownbecausethereadersalwaysputsuchapositivespinonthingsorhowIcolor-codedmyclosetforfunbecausetheresultwassoaestheticallypleasing.
Instead,Isaid,“Sometimes,IfantasizeaboutfindingoutIwasadopted.”
Shamecurdledinmygut.I’dnever,eversharedthatsentimentwithanyone,andhearingitaloudmademyskinpricklewithguilt.
Ididn’tcomefromabadfamily.Theywerejudgmentalandhadhighexpectations,buttheyweren’tphysicallyabusive.They’dpaidformycollegeeducationinfull,andIgrewupinanicehousewithniceclothesandnicevacations.Comparedtoamajorityofpeople,Ilivedanincrediblyprivilegedlife.
Butourliveswereourown.Therewouldalwaysbepeoplewhowerebetterandworseoffthanus.Thatdidn’tmakeourfeelingsanylessvalid.Wecouldacknowledgehowgoodwehaditinsomerespectswhilecriticizingotherparts.
Tohiscredit,Christiandidn’tcondemnmeforbeinganungratefulbrat.Hedidn’tsayanythingatall.
Instead,hewaitedformetofinishwithnojudgmentinhiseyes.
“Iwouldfreakoutifthatactuallyhappened,butit’sthefantasyofhavinganotherfamilyouttherethat’smore…likeafamily,Iguess.Lesscompetition,moreemotionalsupport.”Itracedtherimofmymugwithmyfinger.“Sometimes,IwonderifmysisterandIwouldbecloserifmyparentshadn’tpittedusagainsteachothersomuch.Theydidn’tspendalotoftimewithusbecausetheyweresobusywithwork,andthetimetheydidspendwithuswasfocusedonwhicheverchildtheycouldbragaboutthemost.Theonewhohadthebestgrades,themostimpressiveextracurricularsandcollegeacceptances…NataliaandIweresobusytryingtooutshineeachothergrowingupthatweneverconnectedwitheachother.”
Asadsmiletouchedmylips.“Nowshe’savicepresidentattheWorldBankandI’munemployed,so…”Ishrugged,tryingnottopicturedozensmorefamilydinnerswhereIsatinshamewhilemyparentsgushedovermysister.
Thatwas,ifIwaseveninvitedtofuturedinners.Aftermyfightwiththem,Iwasn’tsosure.
“IneverfitinwithmyfamilyevenwhenIwasemployed,anyway.They’rethepracticalones.I’mtheonewhospentmychildhoodstaringoutthewindowdaydreamingaboutfashionandtravelinsteadofstackingmyresumewithcollege-boostingactivities.WhenIwasfifteen,IcreatedamanifestationboardforParsons,mydreamcollege,andcovereditwithphotosofthecampusandamockacceptanceletterItypedup.”
Mysmileturnedwistfulatthememoryofmyoptimisticteenageself.“Itworked.Ireceivedanactualacceptancelettermysenioryear,butIhadtoturnthemdownbecausemyparentsrefusedtopayforsuchan‘impracticaldegree.’SoIendedupatThayer.”
Ididn’tregretit.IfIhadn’tattendedThayer,Iwould’venevermetAva,Bridget,andJules.
Still,sometimesIwonderedwhatwould’vehappenedhadIattendedParsons.WouldIhaveskippedtheD.C.Style
chapterofmylife?Maybe.WouldIalreadybeadesignerwithmultiplefashionshowsundermybelt?Lesscertainbutprobably.
“Takethisfromsomeonewho’sseenplentyofcompetitorscomeandgoovertheyears,”Christiansaid,pullingmeoutofmythoughts.“Youcan’tmeasureyoursuccessbasedonsomeoneelse’sprogress.AndI’vemetyourfamily.Trustme,it’sbetterthatyoudon’tfitin.”
Iletoutasmalllaugh.“Perhaps.”
Itfeltgoodtogetallthatoffmychest,andithelpedthatChristianandIweren’tascloseasIwastomygirlfriends.Itmademelessself-consciousaboutthethingsIwassharing.
Sleeptuggedattheedgesofmyconsciousness,butIdidn’twanttogotobedwhenChristianandIwerefinallyhavingarealconversation.
Theshootdidn’tstartuntillatemorningtomorrowanyway.
Justhalfanhourmore.ThenI’llgotosleep.
“Whataboutyourfamily?”Itookanothersipoftea.“Whataretheylike?”
Christiannevertalkedabouthisparents,andIhadn’tspottedasinglephotooftheminhishouse.
“Dead.”
Theteawentdownthewrongpipe.IsplutteredoutaseriesofcoughswhileChristianfinishedhisdinnerlikehehadn’tdroppedabombshellwiththecasualnessofsomeonementioningtheirfamilywasoutoftownfortheweekend.
“I’msosorry,”IsaidonceIrecovered.Iblinkedawaythetearsfrommycoughingfit.“I…Ididn’tknow.”
Itwasaninanethingtosaybecauseofcourse
Ihadn’tknown,orIwouldn’thaveasked,butIcouldn’tthinkofabetterresponse.
I’dassumedChristian’sparentslivedinanothercityand/orhehadabadrelationshipwiththem.Ineverwouldhaveguessedhewasanorphan.
“IthappenedwhenIwasthirteen,sodon’tfeeltoobadforme.Itwasalongtimeago.”Despitehiscasualtone,histightjawandrigidshoulderstoldmehewasn’tasunaffectedashepretendedtobe.
Adeepacheblossomedinmychest.Thirteenwastooyoungtoloseone’sparents.Any
agewastooyoung.
Imightbeupsetandfrustratedwithmyfamily,butifIlostanyofthem,Iwouldbedevastated.
“Theywereyourparents.There’snotimelimittogrievingthelossoffamily,”Isaidgently.Ihesitated,thenasked,“Whodidyoulivewithafterthey…”
“MyauntraisedmeuntilshediedwhenIwasincollege.”Christianansweredmyunfinishedquestion.“I’vebeenonmyownsince.”
Theachespreaduntileverypartofmetingledwiththeneedtocomforthim
Hewouldn’trespondwelltoahug,butwordscouldbejustas,ifnotmore,powerful.
“Don’tpityme,Stella,”hesaid,tonedry.“Ipreferbeingalone.”
“Maybe,butthere’sadifferencebetweenbeingaloneandbeingalone
.”Theformerwastheabsenceofphysicalcompany;thelatterwastheabsenceofemotionalandinterpersonalsupport.
Ilikedbeingalonetoo,butonlyinthefirstsenseoftheword.
“It’sokaytofeelsad,”Iaddedsoftly.“IpromiseIwon’ttellanyone.”
Ididn’taskhowhisparentsdied.Icouldtellwewerealreadystretchingthelimitsofhiswillingnesstoshare,andIdidn’twanttodestroythefragileintimacyofthemoment.
Christianstaredatmewithanimperceptibleexpression.
“I’llkeepthatinmind,”hefinallysaid,hisvoiceashaderougherthanusual.
Iexpectedhimtoendtheconversationthere,buttomysurprise,hecontinuedwithoutmepromptinghim.
“MyfatherwasthereasonIgotintocomputers.Hewasasoftwareengineer,andmymotherwasaschooladministrator.Inmanyways,theywerethequintessentialmiddle-classAmericanfamily.Welivedinanicesuburbanhouse.IplayedLittleLeague,andeveryFridaynight,weorderedpizzaandplayedboardgames.”
Iheldmybreath,soentrancedbytherareglimpseintohischildhoodIwasafraidtobreatheincaseitbrokethespell.
“Theonlythingthatdidn’tfitintothispicture,”Christiansaid,“wastheirrelationship.Myparentslovedeachother.Madly.Deeply.Morethananyoneelseontheplanet.”
OfallthethingsI’dexpectedhimtosay,thatdidn’tevenrankinthetopthousand,butIswallowedmyquestionsandlethimcontinue.
“Igrewuphearingthecrazytalesoftheircourtship.Howmyfatherwrotemymotheralettereverydaywhilehewasstudyingabroadandtrekkedtwomilestothepostofficeinthemorningsbecausehedidn’ttrusttheuniversitymailingsystem.Howsheranawayfromhomewhenherparentsthreatenedtocutheroffifshedidn’tbreakupwithhimbecausethey’dwantedhertomarrythesonofawealthylocalbusinessmaninstead.Sheeventuallymadeupwithmygrandparents,butinsteadofthrowingabigwedding,myparentselopedandmovedtoalittletowninNorthernCalifornia.Theyhadmelessthanayearlater.”
ThehazeofmemoriesdarkenedChristian’seyes.“Theysettledintowhatoutsidersmightconsideranordinarylife,buttheyneverlostthatfireforeachotherevenafterIwasborn.”
Mostpeopledreamedofthekindoflovehisparentshad,buthespokeaboutitlikeit’dbeenacurse,notablessing.
“Yetyoudon’tbelieveinlove,”Isaid.
Howwasthatpossible?Mostpeople’scynicismtowardlovecamefromseeingitstrippeddowntothebarestskeletonofwhatitoncewas.Uglydivorces,brokenpromises,tearfulfights.Butitsoundedlikehisparentshadbeenashiningexampleofwhatitcould
be.
“No.”ThecausticcutofChristian’ssmileacrosshisfaceraisedgoosebumpsonmyarms.“Becausewhatmyparentshadwasn’tlove.Itwasegoanddestructiondisguisedasaffection.Adrugtheykeptchasingbecauseitgavethemahightheycouldn’tgetanywhereelse.Itcloudedtheirjudgmenttothedetrimentofthemselvesandeveryonearoundthem,anditgavethemcovertodoalltheseirrationalthingsbecausenoonequestionedthemifitwasforlove.
”
Heleanedback,hisfacehard.“Itwasn’tjustmyparents.Lookattheworldaroundus.Peoplekill,steal,andlieinthenameofthisabstractemotionwe’retoldissupposedtobeourultimategoal.Loveconquersall.Lovehealsall.Etcetera,etcetera.”Thecurlofhisliptoldmehowmuchrespecthehadforsuchplatitudes.“Alexgaveupamultibillion-dollarcompany.Bridgetalmostlostacountry.AndRhysgaveuphisprivacy,whichmatteredmoretohimthananyamountofcash.It’scompletelyillogical.”
“Alexgothiscompanyback,”Ipointedout.“Bridgetmadeitwork,andRhysdidn’tgiveupall
hisprivacy.Sometimes,sacrificesarenecessaryforhappiness.”
“Why?”
Iblinked,sostartledbythebluntnessofhisquestionthatittookmeaminutetorespond.
“Becauseit’sthewaytheworldworks,”Ifinallysaid.“Wecan’thaveeverythingwewantwithoutmakingsomecompromises.Ifhumanswererobots,I’dagreewithyourassessment,butwe’renot.Wehavefeelings,andifitweren’tforlove,thehumanracewouldn’tsurvive.Procreation,protection,motivation.Itallhingesonthatoneemotion.”
ItwastheleastromanticandthereforethemosteffectiveanswerIcould’vegiven.
“Perhaps.”Christian’sshrugexpressedthedepthofhisskepticismmorethanwordscould.“Butthere’sasecondissue,whichisthatpeopleuselove
sooftenit’slostallmeaning.Theylovetheirdogs,cars,happyhours,andtheirfriend’snewhaircut.Theysayloveisthisgrand,wonderfulthingwhenit’stheopposite.It’suselessatbestanddangerousatworst.”
“Therearedifferenttypesoflove.ThewayIlovefashionisdifferentfromthewayIlovemyfriends.”
“Varyingdegreesofthesamedisease.”DarkamusementfilledhisfacewhenIwincedattheworddisease
.“Isthiswhereyou’lltrytochangemymind?Convincemethatlovedoes,infact,maketheworldgoaround?”
“No,”Isaidtruthfully.“You’vealreadymadeupyourmind.NothingIsaywillchangeit.Theonlywayyou’llchangeyourmindisthroughexperience,notwords.”
Surprisecoastedthroughhiseyesbeforeitsubmergedbeneathsomethingheavier,moreslumberous.
“Anddoyouthinkthatwillhappen?”Hislowdrawlcondensedtheairbetweenus.“ThatI’llfallinloveandeatmywords?”
Ishrugged,thecasualmovementatoddswiththerapidbeatsofmyheart.“Maybe.I’mnotafortuneteller.”
Secretly,Ihopedhewould.NotbecauseIhaddelusionsofbeingtheonewhocouldquote-unquotechangehim,butbecauseeveryonedeservedtoexperiencetrueloveatleastonceintheirlifetime.
“Oneoftheclausesinourcontract,”Christiansaid,watchingmewiththoseall-knowingeyes,“isthatIdon’tfallinlovewithyou.”
Mymouthdried.“Yes.”
“Whydidyouputinthatcondition,Stella?”
“BecauseIdon’twantyoutofallinlovewithme.”
Hedidn’tsmileatmyquickquip.Alongsilencepassedbeforehespokeagain.
“YouandI,wearen’tsodifferent,”hesaidsoftly.
Asparkignitedandburnedupalltheoxygenbetweenus.Thesoundofmypulsefadedintoadistantwhoosh.
Saysomething,Stella.
Buthisgazeheldmyvoicecaptive,andbeforeIcouldfreeit,hisphonerangandshreddedthemomenttopieces.
Christian’seyeslingeredonmeforafractionofasecondlongerbeforehetookthecall.Hewalkedouttothelanai,wherethedistantroarofthewavesdrownedouthisendoftheconversation.
Theweightonmychesteased,leavingmelight-headedanddizzy.IfeltlikeI’dbeensubmergedbeneaththeoceanforthepasthourandonlyjustcameupforair.
ItwasalwayshardtobreathearoundChristian.
OnenightinHawaiidown,twomoretogo.
Ithoughtthetripwouldbeasimpleone.Arrive,dotheshoots,leave.
But,asIwasquicklyrealizing,nothingthatinvolvedChristianHarperwaseversimple.
***
CHRISTIAN
“SomeonehackedintotheMirage’ssecuritysystem,”Kagesaid,soundinggrim.“OurcyberteamconfirmeditwastheresultofadevicesimilartoScylla.”
Ibitbackacolorfulcurse.
ThelastthingIwantedwastodiscussworkthislateatnightinfuckingHawaii.Granted,itwasevenlaterforhim,butKageworkedallhoursandhisupdatewasamindfuck.
I’ddevelopedScyllatwoyearsago.NamedafterthelegendaryGreekmonsterwhodevouredmenoffshipsthatsailedtooclose,thedevicedidn’trequireadownloadoraUSBporttohackintoasystem.Itonlyneededtobewithinafewfeetofthetargetfortheownertoremotecontrolintothedeviceandfuckshitupastheysawfit.
NooneknewScyllaexistedexceptforthepeopleatHarperSecurityandJules,whomI’dlentthedevicetolastyear.Shedidn’tknowwhatitwaswhensheusedit,andevenifshedid,shedidn’thavetheschematicsforit,whichmeantonething.
ThetraitorwasstillatHarper,andtheyweresomehowconnectedtoStella’sstalker.
Coldfuryrippledthroughme.
I’drunasecondroundofchecksoneveryoneIemployedaftertheMiragesurveillancehackwithaspecialfocusonthoseclosesttome,includingBrockandKage.Theycamebackclean.
I’dletgoofafewmildlysuspiciousemployees,buttheyhadn’tbeenhigh-levelenoughtoknowaboutScylla.
Plus,unlessStella’sstalkerwasadeveloperhimself,itshould’vebeendamnnearimpossibleforthemtoreplicateScylla’sschematics…unlesstheygottheirhandsontheblueprinthiddeninmyoffice.
Mymindspunwithathousandpossibilities,butwhenIspoke,myvoicewascalm.Rocksolid.
“Pullallthesecurityfootagefromtheareaaroundthebuilding.Iwantvideofromeverysinglecornerandstorefrontthathasacamerawithinafive-blockradiusoftheMirage.Unlessthehackercanfuckingteleport,hehadtohavegonesomewhereafterthebreak-in.Findhim.”
IhungupafterKage’sgruntofaffirmation.
Thefootagewasn’tmytoppriority.Mytopprioritywasfindingoutwhoinmycompanywastryingtosabotageme,butuntilIreturnedtoD.C.,gatheringandscreeningthefootagewouldgivemymensomethingtodowhileIhunteddownthetraitor.
BetweentheScyllanewsandthestalledprogressonStella’sstalker,Maywasshapinguptobeashittyfuckingmonth.
AggravationmountedinmychestwhileIcalculatedmynextmove.
IfIwerehereforanyreasonotherthanStella,IwouldflybacktoD.C.firstthinginthemorning,butIcouldn’tleaveheralonewhentherewasapsychoontheloosetargetingher.
I’dliedwhenI’dtoldhertherewasnonews.I’dinterceptedthreemorenotesfromhiminhermailbox.Theycontainedbasicthreats,nothingnew,andtheywerestilluntraceable—fornow.
Thechancesofhimfollowingherherewereslim,buttheyweren’tzero.
Atleast,thatwaswhatItoldmyself.
Ireturnedtothelivingroomandlockedtheslidingglassdoorbehindme.
Itwasalreadymidnight.IwaswideawakethankstotheadrenalinefromKage’snews,butStellahadpassedoutonthecouchduringmycall.
IgentlypriedheremptymugfromherhandandsetitonthetablebeforeIpickedherupandcarriedhertothebedroom.Shewasinsuchdeepslumbershedidn’tevenstir.
MoonlightcutasilveryswathethroughthedarknessasIlaidheronthebed.
Ituckedthecomfortertighteraroundher,thegentlenessoftheactionasharpcontrasttotheroarinmyblood.ItseemedalmostobscenetotouchStellawhilevisionsofbloodanddismembermentcrowdedmybrain,butIcouldn’tshutoffthepartofmethatthirstedforvengeance.
ThecoldshowerItookdampenedmyangerbutdidn’teraseitcompletely.And,becauseIneededanoutletformyfrustrationthatdidn’tinvolvephysicalrelease,thefirstthingIdidwhenIemergedfromthebathroomwasopenmylaptop.
Iskippedpasttheopenwindowwithanunfinishedcrossword—Ipreferredphysicalpuzzles,butImadedowithdigitalversionswhennecessary—andopenedthefileIkeptspecificallyfortimeslikethese.
Iskimmedthelistofnamesbeforesettlingonthepresidentofamajormultinationalbank.He’dneverbeenandwouldneverbeaHarperSecurityclient.Contrarytopopularbelief,IdidhavefuckingstandardsforthepeopleIassociatedwith,andthisguywasanastypieceofwork.Embezzlement,taxfraud,threesexualharassmentlawsuitsfromhisformerassistantsthatweresettledoutofcourt,andapenchantforslappingaroundbothhiswifeandthewomenhecheatedonherwith.Andthatwasjustthetipoftheiceberg.
“You’reabouttohaveaverybaddaywhenyouwakeup,”Itoldthephotoofhisred,beady-eyedface.
Ittookmelessthanfiveminutestohackintohisbankaccountsandreroutethefundstovariouscharitiesviaanonymousdonationsandanetworkofproxyservers.Itwasalmostembarrassinghoweasyitwas.Theman’spasswordwashisfirstcar’smodelandhisbirthday,forfuck’ssake.
IleftachunkofmoneyforhiswifealongwiththenameofagooddivorcelawyerbeforeIforwardedsomeinformationtotheIRSthattheU.S.governmentwouldfindhighlyinteresting.Asthecherryontop,Iputhisinfoupforsaleonthedarkweb,sentseveralhumiliatingphotosfromhislastvisitwithhismistresstoalltwohundredthousandofthebank’semployeesand,becausetheassholeoncetriedtostealaparkingspotfromme,Ihackedintohiscar,killedtheGPS,andwipedoutallthevehicle’sdata.
BythetimeIfinished,IfeltcalmenoughtoslideintobednexttoStella
Contrarytowhatshesaidearlieraboutnature,nothingcleansedthesoullikeagoodcyberrampage.
IstilledwhenStellaletoutamumbleanddrapedherlegovermine.Shemust’velikedthewarmthbecauseafewsecondslater,shewrappedherarmaroundmywaistandsnuggledintomychest.
Eventhoughshewasalreadyasleep,shereleasedasmallyawnthatmeltedintoacontentedsighandthen…silence.
Istareddownather,waitingforhertowakeuporatleastshiftagain.
Shedidn’t.
Judgingfromthesteadyriseandfallofherchest,she’ddriftedbackintosleepandhadnointentionofuntanglingherselffrommeanytimesoon.
Ihatedcuddlingaftersexandcuddlingwithout
sexevenmore,butinsteadofpushingStellaaway,Ibrushedalockofhairoutofherfaceandexaminedherinthemoonlightpeekingthroughthecurtains.
Thesilveryglowcaressedherskininawaythatmadeherlookethereal.Anangelsleepinginthearmsofamonster.
FewpeopletrustedmeenoughtoclosetheireyeswhenIwasintheroom,andhereshewas,cuddlingagainstmelikeIwasadamnteddybear.Completelyunawareoftheviolencebrewingonlyinchesaway.
Myhanddriftedfromherhairandontotheelegantcurveofhercheekbone.Itraceditdowntoherchin,keepingmytouchfeatherlightsoasnottowakeher.IwantedtoetcheverydetailofherintomyminduntilIcouldclosemyeyesandpictureherasvividlyasifshewerestandinginfrontofme.
PerhapsthenIwouldunderstandtheholdthiswomanhadonme.Howcouldsomeonesoinnocentandpure-heartedhavebrandedherselfsodeepintomypsycheIfelttheagonizingburnofitthislongafterwemet?
MytouchlingeredagainstStella’sfacebeforeIdroppedit.
Invisibletracesofthebloodcoatingmyhandsstreakedhercheeks.Theywerethesamehandsthatfiteasilyaroundthemetalofagunandendedliveswiththemerepressofabutton.Aliar’shandsatbest,akiller’shandsatworst.
Ishouldn’tbetouchingherandtaintingherwithmycrimes,bothpastandfuture.Shedeservedtoshinewithoutdarknessthreateningtoconsumeher,andifIwereabetterman,Iwouldlethergo.
ButIwasn’t.
Myflickeringconsciencerecoiledattheunseensmearsofredagainstherskinwhileatwisted,possessivepartofmethrilledatthesight.
Butiftherewasonethingbothsidesagreedon,itwasthatshewasmine.
Andnowthatshewasinmylife,therewasnolettinghergo.30
STELLA/CHRISTIAN
STELLA
Iwokeupthenextmorningtorumpledsheetsandastomachfullofbutterflies,partlybecauseoftheshootandpartlybecauseofthefaintleatherandspicescentintheair.
Christianwasgone,buttinypricklesofheatconsumedmyskinatthesightoftherumpledsheetsonhissideofthebed.
Iknewthevillahadonebedroom.Thefrontdeskassistanttoldussowhenhe’dupgradedus.ButthethoughtofsharingsuchanintimatespacewithChristian,evenifI’dbeenpassedoutforallofit,electrifiedmeinawayithadn’tthefirstnightwe’dsharedabed.
Stopit.It’sjustsleep.
Isharedbedswithmyfriendsallthetimewhenwetraveledtogether.That
wasn’tabigdeal,sothisshouldn’tbeeither.
Ofcourse,Ididn’twanttohavesexwithmyfriends,butthatwasaminordistinction.
Iforcedmyeyesawayfromthebedandgotready.
SinceDelamontewouldbeprovidingtheclothesandmakeuponset,itdidn’ttakemelongtothrowonasimplelinendressandtamemyhairintosomethingmanageable.
WhenIsteppedintothelivingroom,IsawChristianworkingonthelanai,lookingfartoostressedforhisfirstmorninginHawaii.
“Goodmorning.”Istoppednexttohistable.Anemptycoffeecupandahalf-eatensliceoftoastsatnexttohislaptopalongwithaacompletedcrosswordpuzzle.“You’reupearly.”
“I’mworkingonEastCoasttime.”Heliftedhishead,hisbrowsmoothingwhenhesawme.“Areyoureadyfortheshoot?”
“Yes.”Sortof.Maybe.Probably.
Myuncertaintymust’vebledthroughbecausehisfacesoftenedfurther.“You’lldogreat.”
“Thanks.”Itwistedmyringaroundmyfingerbeforehiswordssankin.You’lldogreat.
“Areyounotcomingwithme?”
“Nottoday.Aworkemergencycameup.”
“Oh.”DisappointmentbloomedinmystomachuntilIcrushedit.Obviously,hewasn’tgoingtostandaroundandwatchmegetmyphotostakentheentiretrip.Hehadbetterthingstodo.“Nothingtoobad,Ihope.”
“NothingIcan’thandle.”Christiannoddedattheroomservicemenuonthetable.“Doyouwantsomethingtoeatbeforehand?Icancallthekitchen.”
“No,I’malreadyrunninglate.”IalsomightthrowupifIateanythingbeforetheshoot,butIkeptthattomyself.“Iguess,um,I’llseeyoulater.”
Ileft,feelingoddlylikeIwassayinggoodbyetomyboyfriendbeforealongtripapart.Whichwasridiculous,becausehewasn’t
myboyfriend,andourhotelwasonlyafifteen-minutewalkfromtheset.
WhenIarrived,Ididn’trecognizeanyoneexceptthephotographerRicardoandDelamonte’sfashiondirectorEmmanuelle,whogreetedmewithaflurryofcheekkisses.
“Stella!Howwasyourflight?Youlooklovely.Wearesoexcitedfortheshoot…let’sgetyouintohairandmakeupthough,yes?We’realittle
behind…”
TheensuingwhirlwindofactivitywassochaoticitdroveallthoughtsofChristianoutofmyhead.Theyshuffledmefromhairandmakeuptomyfittingtomytestshots,andbythetimetherealphotoshootwasreadytobegin,Icouldn’tfocusonanythingexceptnotscrewingupsobadlythatDelamontefiredmeonthespot.
I’mfine.Icandothis.
Wewereshootingadifferentlineeveryday—resortweartoday,shoesandaccessoriestomorrow,andjewelrythedayafterthat.
IwasgratefulforthebreezysilhouettesbecauseifIhadtosqueezemyselfintoanythingmorefitted,Imightpassoutrightthereonthebeach.
“Angleyourheadtowardthesun…yes,justlikethat!”Ricardoshouted.“Perfect!”
MaybeitwasthesunandseabreezeormyhighfrombeinginHawaiiforthefirsttime.OrmaybeitwasbecauseI’dshotwithRicardobeforeandwasmorecomfortableworkingwithhim.
Whateveritwas,itmeltedmynervesuntilIfinallyrelaxedenoughtopushtheugly,self-doubtingvoicesoutofmyhead.
Fortherestofthemorningandearlyafternoon,IturnedandposedatRicardo’sdirection.Westoppedeverynowandthenforanoutfitchange,butotherwise,theshootwasseamless.
Emmanuellewasecstatic.
“You’redoingwonderful!”shegushedduringoneofourbreaks.“WaittillIshowLuisatheproofs.She’llbethrilled
…”
Ismiledandnodded,butmyeyeswerebusysearchingthebeachforaflashofdarkhairandtannedskin.
Nothing.
Christianhadsaidhecouldn’tmakeit,butI’dhoped…
Itdoesn’tmatter.
I’dseehimlater.Weweresharingaroom,forPete’ssake,andwhileIwantedhimhere,Ididn’tneed
himhere.
Icoulddothisonmyown.
TherealizationstruckmerightasEmmanuellefinishedtalking.
“Don’tyouagree?”shestaredatmeexpectantly.
“Yes.”Ihadnoideawhatshetalkingabout.“You’reright.”
“Exactly
!Plaidsforfallareoverdone.I’mthinkingbrushedknitwear…”
Icandothisonmyown
Irepeatedthewordsinmyhead.
I’dspentyearsbuildingmybrandbymyself,buteversincetheDelamontedealandmystalker’sreappearance,I’dbeenoffbalance.Unsureofmyself.
I’dreliedonChristianforconfidenceandasmallpartofmewasconvincedIwould’vebombedtheNewYorkshootifithadn’tbeenforhim.
ButI’dcompletedtheshootthismorningbymyself,andI’ddoneadamngoodjob.
Asmilebloomedonmylips.
“Stella,weneedyoubackhere!”Ricardocalledfromhispositionnearthewater.“Areyouready?”
IwasstillwearingmysmilewhenIreturnedtomydesignatedspot,mystepslighterthanthey’dbeenallday.
“I’mready.”
***
CHRISTIAN
WorkkeptmepreoccupiedformostoftheHawaiitrip.AsmuchasIwantedtoaccompanyStellatoherphotoshoots,Ihadcontractstonegotiate,virtualmeetingstoattend,andafuckingtraitortocatch.
Butwhenourlastdayontheislanddawned,Icouldn’tstayawayanylonger.Irescheduledmymeetingsandtookthehotel’sboattotheNāPaliCoast,whereherlastshootwastakingplace.
ThesilkywhitesandshiftedbeneathmybarefeetasIwalkedtowardtheprivatebeachwhereDelamontehadsetupcamp.
I’dvisitedhundredsoflocationsovertheyears,buttheruggedcoastlineremainedoneofthemoststunningplacesI’deverseen.
DramaticemeraldcliffstoweredthousandsoffeetabovethePacific,theirsteepridgesandnarrowvalleyscurlingaroundpristinebeachesattheirfeetinaprotectiveembrace.White-plumedwaterfallscascadedpastseacavescarvedintothecliffs,theirsoftroarminglingwiththelapofwavesagainstsandyshores.
Thecoastwasaworkofartforgedbynature’smosttalentedartisans,theclosesttoShangri-Lainthemodernworld,butitwasn’tthemostbeautifulthingpresent.
Notbyalongshot.
Istoppedattheedgeoftheset.
Stellastoodintheshallows,herarmscoveringherbarechestandhercurlsawildcloudaroundherface.Hersimplewhitebikinibottomoffsettheextravagantemeraldnecklacearoundherneck.
Shewastoofocusedonthecameratonoticemeyet,soIsoakedherinatmyleisure.
Thelateafternoonsungildedherskinandformedahaloaroundhergentlecurves.Herfaceappearedalmostnakedofadornment.Noobviousmakeup,justhugegreeneyes,lushlips,andskinthathaddeepenedintoawarmbrownafterdaysinthesun.
ShelookedlikeVenusemergingfromthedeepbluesea,onlyathousandtimesmorespectacular.
Myheartslowedtomatchthesensualebbandflowofthewaterassheturnedandposedaccordingtothephotographer’sinstructions.
Unlikeatthefirstphotoshoot,sheappearedateasehere,withthewindrustlingherhairandthewaveslappingatherthighs.
Agoddessinhernaturalelement.
“Andthat’sawrap!”Ricardoshoutedafterashortwhile.“Youaregorgeous
,darling.Absoluteperfection.”
Stellarespondedwithashysmile.Shedroppedherarmsaninch—notlowenoughtobareherselftothecrew,butenoughthattheswellsofherbreastspeekedoverherembrace.
Alethalspikeofpossessivenesssurgedthroughmyblood.
IallowedmyeyestolingeronherforasecondlongerbeforeIdraggedthemawaytoassessRicardowithacoldstare.
Half-nakedmodelswerederigueurinthefashionworld,butthatdidn’tstopmefromsuddenlywantingtogougeouttheeyesoftheonlymalememberofthecrew—onewhowasstaringabittooappreciativelyatStella.
RicardoFrenelli,ageforty-six,twicedivorcedwithonedaughterwhohadabadcocainehabit,employedatDelamonteforthepasteightyears.Well-respectedinthefashionindustry,buthehadasecretgamblingproblemandowedashittonofmoneytopeopleyoudidn’twanttooweapennyto.
I’ddonemyresearchafterthefirstphotoshoot.
“Mr.Harper!”Emmanuellefinallynoticedme.
Hergreetingattractedtheattentionofeveryoneonthebeach,includingRicardo,whoseheadwhippedaroundtome.Histanblanchedwhiteatmysmile.
Peoplescaredsoeasilythesedays.
Aflutterofmovementshiftedmyattentionbacktotheocean.Stellahadn’tmovedfromherspotinthewater,butshe’dturnedtofaceme.Surprise,pleasure,andahintofsomethingunidentifiablepassedthroughhereyeswhentheycaughtmine.
MyiretowardRicardofelltothewayside,drownedoutbytheelectrichumintheair.
I’vemetplentyofbeautifulwomeninmylife.Womenwithperfecthair,perfectskin,andperfectbodies.Supermodelsandmoviestarsandheiressesmoldedbythebestmoneycouldbuy.
NoneofthemheldacandletoStella.Sheglowedinawaythathadnothingtodowithherouterbeauty.
Darknesswasalwaysdrawntolight,butIwasn’tjustdrawntoher;Iwasfuckingobsessed.IwouldthrowmyselfintoherflameandletitburnmealiveifitmeantherwarmthwasthelastthingIfeltbeforeIdied.
Herlipspartedonasharpexhale,liketheforceofmyneedwassogreatitpulledaphysicalreactionoutofher
“…didn’trealizeyouwerecoming.”Emmanuelle’ssycophanticvoicebuzzedlikeanirritatinggnatinmyear.“Youshould’vetoldus.Wewould’ve—”
“Leave.”Ididn’ttakemyeyesoffStella,whostoodsostillsheresembledacarvedstatueintheocean.
Emmanuellefaltered.“Excuseme?”
“Youandyourcrewhavefiveminutestovacatethisbeach.I’lltakeStellabackinmyboat.”
I’dcharteredaprivateboatfromthehotelandanchoreditfurtherdownthebeach,notfarfromDelamonte’sowncharter.
Emmanuelle’scheeksflushedcrimson.Iwasn’therboss,butlikemostpeople,shewassusceptibletoauthoritynomatterwhatformitcamein.Still,sheputupalast-ditchefforttostandherground.
“Wecan’tpackthatfast.”Nervousnessdilutedtheimpactofherprotest.“Wealsoneedtocleanandstorethenecklacefirst.It’sworthoverseventythou—”
“Billittome.”
Icouldn’tgivelessfucksabouthowmuchthenecklacecost.IwantedeveryoneexceptStellagone.
Whenthedirectordidn’tmove,Iraisedaneyebrow.“DoIneedtorepeatmyself?”Iaskedpleasantly.Icheckedmywatch.“Fourminutes,Ms.Lange.”
Shefinallypickedupontheveiledwarninginmytoneandscurriedoff.
Twominuteslater,thecrewwasgone,leavingnothingbutfootprintsbehind
“ShouldIbeworried?”ThewindcarriedStella’ssweet,teasingvoicetomyears.Shewasstillintheocean,butthecrew’sdeparturehadbrokenthespellkeepingherquiet.“You’renotplanningonmurderingmeherenowthatyou’vescaredoffthecrew,areyou?”
“Theywereannoyingme.”IwalkedclosertotheshoreuntilIreachedthenaturalborderdemarcatingdrysandfromitsdamp,wave-tossedbrethren.“AndIdidn’tscarethemoff.Imerelyrequestedtheyleave.”
“Whatwouldyouhavedoneiftheyhadn’tcomplied?”
Astrongbreezewhippedacurlacrossherface.Shebrusheditawaywithonehandwhilekeepingherotherarmoverherchest.
Shelookeddifferenthere.Withoutthenearbythreatofthestalkerhangingoverherheadandtheproximityofherfamilydraggingherdown,shewasbrighter,morecarefree,withaplayfulsparkleinhereyesthatoutshonetheemeraldsaroundherneck.
“Iwould’veletitgolikethegentlemanIam.”Asmileworkeditswayontomymouthatthewayherbrowsformedtwinarchesofskepticism.
“Yousaidyouweren’tagentleman.”
“Ididn’t.Youdid.”
“AndIwasright.”
MysmilemorphedintoasoftlaughthatpromisedallsortsofwaysIcouldfurtherproveherright.
“Comehere,Stella.”31
CHRISTIAN/STELLA
CHRISTIAN
Stelladidn’tmove,thoughahintofdesiredarkenedhereyesatmyvelvetcommand.
“What’llyoudoifI
don’tcomply?”Hertoneremainedlight,buttheelectricityintheairintensifieduntilitseepedbeneathmyskinandcrackledinmyveins.
Mysmiletookonamoredangerouscurve.“Stayinthewaterandfindout.”
I’dgivehertensecondsbeforeIwentinafterher.
It’dbeenforty-eighthourssinceourlastrealinteraction,andIalreadycravedherclosenesslikeanaddicthungeringforhisnexthit.
I’dgivenupanyconceptofdistancebetweenus.Iwasn’tjustfascinatedwithher—apuzzletosolve.Obsessionfeltsimpletomenow.
Ineeded
her.
“Youneedtoworkonsayingthewordplease.
Ipromiseitwon’tkillyou.”
Despiteherdryobservation,Stellafinallymoved.Hertall,slenderframecutthroughtheshallowswithfluidgraceuntilthewatercascadedoffherandleftonlytiny,glitteringdropletsbehind.
Shestoppedinfrontofme,socloseIcouldsmellthefaintscentofcoconutsunscreenandgreenfloralsmixedwiththesaltykissoftheocean.
Ididn’tbelieveinparadise,nordidIbelieveIcouldreachitevenifitexisted,butshesmelledexactlylikehowIimaginedparadisewouldsmell.
“Can’tpromisesomethingthat’syettobetested,sweetheart.”Ibrushedmyfingersoverthesun-warmedjewelsdrapedaroundherneck.
Seventythousanddollarsforonemomentalonewithher.
Itwasworthit.
Therhythmofherbreathsstuttered.“You’retellingmeyou’veneversaidthewordplease
.”
“Neverneededto.PeopledowhatIwantanyway.”AchucklevibratedinmychestatStella’sadorablegrumble.
“Ishould’vestayedinthewaterandmadeyousayplease
beforeIgotout.Teachyoualesson.”Sheeyedmewithcuriosity.“Whatareyoudoinghere,anyway?Ithoughtyouhadwork.”
“Ifinished.”Notallofit,buttherestcouldwait.“Icouldn’tleavewithoutvisitingthesetatleastonce.”
“Idon’tknowifwatchingmestandandpoutisexciting,”shelaughed.Herarmstightenedoverherchest,butneitherofusmadeamovetowardherclothes,whichlayfoldedonatowelafewfeetaway.
“Icouldwatchyoucounteverygrainofsandonthebeachanditwouldbeexciting.”
Iwasn’tapatientman,norwasIonewhodealtwellwithrestlessness.ThatwaswhyIenjoyedpuzzlessomuch.TheyfedmethestimulationIrequiredtostaysane,becauseGodknewIcouldn’trelyonotherpeopletokeepmeinterested.
Stellawastheonlyexception.Hermerepresencefascinatedmemorethananyramblingmonologueonfilm,travel,orwhateverthefuckpeoplelikedtotalkabout.
Herlaughfadedintoahitchedbreathattheconvictioninmyvoice.
“Butifyouwanttoknowthetruth…”Myhandskimmedfromhernecklaceontothedelicateslopeofhershoulder.“Ididn’tcometowatchthephotoshoot.”
Agentleshiverrippledthroughherbodywhenmytouchtraileddownherforearm.
“Thenwhydidyoucome?”Herquestionexpandedbetweenuslikeitwasthemostimportantthingonthebeach.
“Foryou.”Ilingeredonthesoft,bareskinaboveherelbow.Thesunblazedoverhead,butitwasnothingcomparedtothesparksignitingintheair.Thousandsofemberspepperedmyskinandlitatrailoffireupmyarmandintomychest.“Dropyourarmsforme,sweetheart.Iwanttoseeyou.”
ItwastheclosestIevercametobegging.
Silenceshroudedusandsuffocatedanyremainingtracesoflightheartedness.InitsplacewassomethingdarkandtexturedthatweighedheavyonmyshoulderswhileIwaitedforStella’sresponse.
Thedelicatecolumnofherthroatjumpedashereyesheldmine.
Hereyeshadalwaysbeenhermostexpressivefeature,likeclear,jade-coloredwindowsintoherinnermostthoughts.Everyfear,everydesire,everydreamandinsecurity.
Forthefirsttime,Icouldn’tdecipherwhatshewasthinkingbylookingather,butIcouldfeel
theindecisiontwistingherinside.
We’dbeeninchingtowardthislineinourrelationshipsincewesignedouragreement,butwebothknewthatifwecrossedit,therewouldbenogoingback.
Mypulseslowedtomatchtheinterminablewait.
Thenslowly,eversoslowly,Stellaloweredherarms,andmypulseshiftedfromslowmotionintohighgearasitthrobbedtothefranticrhythmofmyheart.
Ididn’ttakemyeyesoffherfaceuntilshestoodwithherarmsathersideandaruddyflushbeneathhertan.OnlythendidIallowmygazetoslidedownandbaskinthesightbeforeme.
Firm,lushbreaststippedwithsweetbrownnipplesthatIachedtotaste.DelicatecurvesandgracefullimbsthatdippedandrosebeneathmilesofluminousskinlikearoadmaptoaheavenIwouldneverreach.Andatinyscrapofwhitefabricthatcoveredhermostintimatespot.
Mycockturnedtostonewhileabeaststirredinmychest,snarlingatmetotakeherandmarkheruntilitwascleartoeverysinglepersonwhoshebelongedto.
Me.
Stella’sbreathsleftherinshallowpuffsassheshiftedbeneathmyscrutiny.Shewasclearlyunusedtosomeonestaringatherforsolong,butwhenshemovedtocoverherselfagain,Istoppedherwithagriponherwrist.
“Don’t.”Desireroughenedtheedgesofmyvoice.“Youdon’tneedtocoveryourselfinfrontofme.”
“Idon’t…I’mnot…”Herthroatmovedagainwithavisibleswallow.“It’sbeenawhilesincesomeonesawmelikethis.”Embarrassmentcoatedheradmission.
Thefierceflameofpossessivenessburnedinmygut,athousandtimeshotterthanwhenI’dcaughtRicardostaringatStellaaftertheshoot.
Ofcourse,Iknewshemust’vebeennakedinfrontofothermenbefore—justasIknewIwantedtopeeltheskinoffsaidmen’sfleshandleavethemtorotbeneaththehotsunfordaringtolaytheireyesonher.
Noonewouldeverbeworthyofher.
“Defineawhile
.”Mylazyrequestdidn’thidetheundercurrentofdangerrunningbeneathit.
Warinessflickeredtolifeinhereyes.“Years.”
Thebeastinmychestwasfullyawakenow,anditwantedtopressfurther.Demandthenameofeveryfuckingmanwho’dtouchedhersoIcouldpaythemanicefollow-upvisit.
Ittookagoodamountofwillpower,butIcagedthosedesires.
Iwasputtingheronedge,andIdidn’twanttowasteourlastdayinHawaiifocusedoninsignificantpeople.
Imaynotbeherfirst,butIwoulddamnwellbeherlast.
BecauseonceItookher,Iwouldneverlethergo.
“Isee.”Myvoicesoftenedintovelvetagain.“Andwhenwasthelasttimesomeonetouchedyoulikethis,Stella?”
Istrokedherbreast,mappingoutthesoftswellwithmypalmbeforeIgrazedathumboverhernipple.Ithardenedinstantly,andasmileghostedmymouthathersharpinhale.
“I…Idon’tremember.”
BeadsofsweatbloomedhighonStella’sforeheadwhenmytouchroughened,andIpinchedhernipplehardenoughtoelicitanother,evensharpergasp.
Herhandshotuptograspmywrist.“Christian
.”
Mynamefelloffherlipsinasweet,breathlessplea,butitmightaswellbetheshotfromastartingpistol.
Oneword,andthefullforceofmydesiresnappedfromitsleash.
Iwantedtoswallowthesoundofmynamefromhermouth,seeifshetastedassweetasshemadeitsoundorifitwasdirtyandwanton,likesinmadeverbal.Morethanthat,Iwantedtoburymyselfinsideher,paintherwithmycum,andruinhersothoroughlyitmadethefalloftheangelslooklikechild’splay.
Iwouldnevermakeittoheaven,butthatdidn’tmatteraslongassheruledbesidemeinhell.
Stellawasmadetobemyqueen.
Toweringcliffsbracketedthebeach,theirsteepwallswornsmoothbytheelements,andagaspescapedStella’sthroatwhenIpushedheragainstthenearbyrockface.
MycockthrobbedinsyncwithmypulseasIhookedafingerinsidethestring-tiedwaistbandofStella’sbikinibottomandtoreitoffwithonesharptug.
Atorturedgroanrumbledinmychestatthesightofheralreadywetandglisteningforme.Shelookedlikeamythicalgoddessagainstthedarkrock,allsinuouslimbsandbrownskin.JewelsencircledherneckwhereIwishedmyhandswere,adorningher,caressingher,owningher.
ThethrobbingintensifieduntilitwasallIcouldseeandhear.
Iwantedtofalltomykneesandworshipherwithmymouth.Totouchher,tasteher,fuckingdrown
inher.
Everyneedandfantasyrushedthroughmeatonce,buttherewouldbetimeforallofthemlater.
Ifinallyhadherinmyhands,andIwasn’tgoingtorushanystopalongtheway.
“You’refuckingdrenched,Butterfly.”LustrenderedmyvoiceunrecognizableasIdippedahandbetweenherlegs.Herheadfellbackagainstthewall,andamoanscatteredonthewindwhenIplayedlazilywithherclit,circlingandrubbingtheswollenbuduntilherjuicesslickedmyfingers.“Doyoulikethis,hmm?Beingspreadwideandfingerfuckedwhereanyonecanseeyou?”
Noonewould.Andiftheydid,Iwouldkillthembeforetheycouldleavewithmemoriesofhernakedformembeddedintheirbrain.
Stellawasmineandminealone.
Shewaspantingsoloudlythesoundalmostdrownedouttheroarofmypulse
I’dneverlostcontrolduringsex.Mypreviousencountershadbeentransactional,outletsforphysicalreleaseandnothingmore.
Withher,Iwasundonebeforewe’devenbegun.
“Iaskedyouaquestion,Stella.”ThesilkinessofmystatementbetrayedtheruthlessgameIplayedwithherarousal,pullinghertotheedgeandwithdrawingjustbeforeshetippedovertheedge.“Answerme.”
“I…”Stella’spantsreachedafeverpitchwhenIpressedagainstaparticularlysensitivespot.“Idon’t…”
“Wronganswer.”Icollaredherthroatwithmyotherhand,pinningheragainsttherockywallwhileIpushedherlegswiderwithmythigh.Ikeptthepressureofmythumbagainstherclitandslidafingerinsidehertight,wetheat.
DesireflamedhotterwitheveryinchdeeperIwentandeverypantofherbreathagainstmyskin.
IwantedtoswalloweverygaspandfeeleverysighagainstmylipsuntilIconsumedherandmadehermineineveryfuckingway.
“I’llaskyouagain.”Ipushedmyfingertothehiltandwithdrewitslowly,wranglingtheloudestmoanfromheryet.“Doyoulikebeingfingerfuckedoutintheopenlikeagoodlittleslut?”
Stellasquirmed,herbodyinstinctivelyrebellingagainsttheonslaughtofsensation,butherstruggleswerefutileagainstmyirongrip.
“Yes
.”Heradmissionspilledoutasachokedsob.“Please…ohGod…”
HerheadtippedbackagainasIdraggedmyfingersoutandrubbedalazycircleonherclitwithmythumbbeforeIslammedthembackin.
Stellawasn’tascreamer,butherlittlegaspsandwhimperswerethesexiestthingsI’deverheard.
Shewrithedagainsttherock,herlidsheavyandhermouthhalf-partedinaceaselessmoan.Onehandsplayedagainsttherockwhiletheotherfistedmyhairhardenoughtosting.
Lustsoakedtheairsothoroughlyitwouldonlytakeagrazetolightthematchonthegasolineofourdesire.
Thinsheensofsweatthathadnothingtodowiththetropicalheatmistedourbodies,andtheopennatureofitall—thewindonmyback,theoceanmerestepsaway—onlyheightenedtheeroticism.
Therewasnothingartificialaboutthismoment.ItwasrealandrawandsofuckingperfectIwantedtokeepushereforever,troublesinD.C.bedamned.
“Screamforme,sweetheart.”Ipushedasecondfingerinsideher,stretchingher.Mycockachedtoreplacemyhands.Iwasclosetolosingit,andshehadn’teventouchedme.“Letmehearhowmuchyoulovethis.”
Thewet,filthysoundsofmyfingerspumpinginandoutofhertoldmewhatIneededtoknow,butIwantedtohear
her.
Iwantedhertoletgo.
ThevolumeofStella’smoansgrew,butshestillheldback,hermusclesvisiblytautfromtheeffort.
“Please,”shewhimpered.“Ican’t…I…”
“Letgo,Stella.”Mymouthgrazedherear.“WhenItellyoutoscream,Iwantyoutofuckingscream.OrI’llbendyouoverandspankyourassrawuntilyoubeg
metoletyouscream.”
Asurprisedbutwickedsmiletouchedmylipswhensheclenchedaroundmyfingersatthethreat.
IincreasedthepaceofmypumpswhileIloweredmyheadanddrewhernippleintomymouth.
Igroaned.
ShetastedjustasgoodasI’dimagined.Sweetandperfect,madejustforme.
Ilavedandsucked,teasingthetipuntilithardenedintoadiamondpeak.Imovedontoherotherbreast,alternatingbackandforthandlickingandsucklinglikeIwasamanstarved.
Icouldn’tgetenough.
Thetasteofheragainstmytonguewasfuckingheaven.Silkyandaddictive,likeashotofpurelustintomybloodstream.
Igentlyclampedmyteetharoundoneofhernipples,flickedafirmtongueacrossitssensitivetip,andtuggedatthesametimeIpressedagainstherclit.
Afterabreathless,suspendedmoment,shefinallyshattered.
Stella’scryofreleasedrenchedtheairasshecameinashuddering,toe-curlingorgasmthatvibratedagainstmybody.
Iliftedmyhead,ignoringtheinsistentacheinmygrointosoakinherdazedexpression.
“Goodgirl,”Imurmured,withdrawingmyhand.
WeremainedinourpositionswhileStellacaughtherbreath—herbackpressedagainsttherock,mybodycurvedoverhersinaprotectiveshield.
Sheturnedthoseslumberousgreeneyesonme,lookingsoinnocentandcontentitformedanironfistaroundmyheart.
“Kissme.”Herwhisperwashedovermyskinandtightenedmymusclesuntileverymoleculeofmybodyhummedwithanticipation.
Ishouldn’t,forbothoursakes.
Givingherreleasewasonething.Kissingwasawholeother.
Icouldowneveryorgasm.Icouldstayburiedinsidehertofeelhertremblesasshegaveintome.Butakiss?ItwouldtouchapartofmeI’dkeptburiedandhidden.
Akisswithherwouldn’tbejustakiss.Itwouldbemyfuckingend.
AshadowofuncertaintypassedthroughStella’seyesatmyhesitation,anditwasthatsplitsecondofdarknessthatkilledme.
She’dlivedherwholelifefeelingunwantedbythoseclosesttoher.
Icouldn’tmakeherfeelthesameway.
NotwhenIneededhermorethanmynextbreath,andnotwhenIwouldrathercutoffmyarmthandenyheranything.
Myresistancecrumbledlikeasandcastleathightide.
IletoutalowcursebeforeIgroaned,fistedherhair,andslammedmymouthdownonhers.
DespitewhatI’dsaidaboutlovebeingadrug,Stellawasmygreatesthigh
Atemptationwithnoescape.
Anobsessionwithnoend.
Anaddictionwithnocure.
***
STELLA
ChristiankissedthewayIimaginedhefucked:hotandcommanding,withawhisperofsensualitythatsofteneditsruthlessedge.
ItmadeeverykissI’dhadbeforelooklikeanimitation,becauseChristianHarper’smouthonminewasnothingshortofarevelation.
ThedefensesI’dconstructedaroundmyheartcrumbled.
Iwastumbling,dizzywithhistasteandthewayhegrippedthebackofmyneck,everyraggedinhaleandsighedexhaleanexchangeofpartsofmeIdidn’tknowIhadtogive.
Hemoldedmeagainsthimandstrippedawaymylayers,onebyone,untiltherewasonlyme
left.
Nowalls,nomasks.
Forthefirsttime,Ifeltfree.
Itangledmyhandsinhishairrightashehookedhishandsbeneathmythighsandliftedmewithoutbreakingthekiss.IinstinctivelywrappedmylegsaroundhiswaistandshiveredwhenIfeltthehardnessofhisarousalagainstmystomach.
Ididn’tcaremuchforsex.Mypreviousexperienceswithithadbeenlackluster,andIonlydiditbecauseIheldontohopethatoneday
,Iwouldunderstandwhatallthefusswasabout.
Butatthatmoment,theonlythingIcouldthinkaboutwaswhetherChristianwasasskilledinbedashewaswithhisfingers.
WhenItellyoutoscream,Iwantyoutofuckingscream.OrI’llbendyouoverandspankyourassrawuntilyoubegmetoletyouscream.
Thememoryofhiswordsspreadliquidfirethroughmyveins.
Heswepthistonguealongtheseamofmylips,demandingentryagain,andIgrantedit.AsighofpleasuredriftedfrommymouthtohiswhenhisthumbcaressedmynapeandhedevouredmesothoroughlythatIdidn’tknowwhereIendedandhebegan.
Hetastedlikeheatandspices,acombinationsoaddictiveIcouldeasilyspendtherestofmylifeconsuminghimandonlyhim.
Astingofpainsharpenedthepleasurewhenhenippedmybottomlipandsmiledatmysurprisedgasp.
“Youaskedforakiss,Stella.”Christian’sroughvoicescatteredtinglesthroughmystomach.“ThisishowIkiss.”
Thewordstouchedmyskinlikeopenflames.
Idrewhisbottomlipbetweenmyteeth.Gentlytugged.Andreleased.
“JustthewayIlikeit,”Isaid.
Hisresultinggroanbroughtasmiletomyface.Inormallywasn’tthisbold,butIlovedtheideathatIcouldmakeChristianHarperlosecontrol.
“You’regoingtobethedeathofme.”Heliftedonehandandrubbedathumbovermycheek,hiseyesdarkeningastheshadowsrosetothesurface.“Younevershould’veletmekissyou,Stella.Becauseonetasteisn’tfuckingenough.”
Hiswordsandthetouchofhisgazewarmedmemorethanthetropicalsun.“Whosaysithastobeone?”
Heletoutanothergroanbeforehekissedmeagain,hungrilyandthoroughly,likeamanstarved.
Thedeliciousslideofhistongueagainstminerenewedtheachebetweenmylegs,andeverythingfellawayexceptfortheheatofhisskin,theraceofmyheart,andthefirmnessofhistouch.
I’dneverwantedsomeoneasmuchasIdidChristian,andthepressofmybarebreastsagainsthistorsomademealltooawareofthechoiceI’dmadewhenIdroppedmyarmsforhim.
Riskoversafety.Desireovercomfort.
Noregrets.
Itwasn’tthedirtywordsorsinfuldesires.Itwasn’tthewayhe’dfuckedmewithhisfingersorwrappedhishandaroundmythroat.
Itwasthekissandthewayitmademefeel,likeIcouldbethetruestversionofmyself.
IsighedwithpleasureattheskilledcommandofChristian’smouth.
Icould’vestayedthereforever,wrappedupinhisarmsonasecludedbeach,buttheaireventuallycooledandthesettingsuncastlongshadowsoverourbodies.
“Whattimeisthewrapparty?”hemurmured.
Thequestionpenetratedthefoginmymind.
Shoot.
I’dalmostforgottenabouttheDelamontewrappartythatnight.“Um…”Isearchedfortheanswerthroughthehaze.“Eight.”
“It’salmostseven.”Christianstrokedhisthumbovermyhip.“Weshouldheadbacksoon.”
“Right.”Itriedtohidemydisappointmentashesetmeonmyfeet.
“Youmustlovethatdress,”hesaidasIpulledonmyswimsuitandthrewthedressI’dworntotheshootoverit.Thewhitelemon-printcottonpiecewasoneofmyfavorites.“You’vewornitfivetimessincespringbegan.”
Mybreathflutteredinmychestbeforeitwhooshedoutinasurprisedexhale.“Ididn’trealizeyounoticedwhatIwaswearing.”
“Inoticeeverythingaboutyou.”
Therewerenoflutteringbreathsthistime.Therewerenobreathsatall,onlyasmilethatcouldn’tbecontainedandalight-headedgiddinessthatwould’veliftedmestraightoffthegroundhadChristian’spresencenottetheredmetohisside.
Ididn’trespond,butthehighfollowedmebacktoourhotel.
However,onceIstartedgettingreadyforthewrapparty,thegiddinessgraduallydissipated,leavingavoidformydoubtstocrawlinlikescavenginginsects.
I’dkissedChristian.
Christian,myfakeboyfriend.
Christian,themanwho’dtoldmestraightouthedidn’tbelieveinlove.
Christian,whosetmyheartonfireevenasavoiceinmyheadwarnedthatthefirecoulddestroymefromtheinsideoutifIwasn’tcareful.
NotonlyhadIkissedhim,I’dasked
himtokissmeafterIlethimbringmetoorgasmonabeachduringaworktrip.
WhathaveIdone?
ThiswaswhyIshouldn’tbeleftalonewithmythoughts.Iruinedeverygoodmomentbyoveranalyzingittodeath.
Iputonmyearrings.
It’sfine.Everythingwillbefine.
“Youlookbeautiful.”
Myheartskippedabeat.Iturnedmyhead,andmydoubtsretreatedintotheshadowsonceagainwhenIsawChristianleaningagainstthedoorframe,watchingmegetready.
Theslumberousheatinhiseyeslitatrailoftinyfiresacrossmyskinwhilethememoryofwhatwedidearlierpulsedbetweenuslikealivingthing.
Ifwehadn’tneededtoleavethebeach…
“Thankyou.”Myvoicecameouthuskierthannormal.Iturnedbacktothemirrorandliftedmyhairoffmyneck.“Zipmeup?”
Thesoftfallsofhisfootstepsmatchedthethudsofmypulse.
“Ilovethisdressonyou.”Hisgazeslidovermysilkdressinanelectriccaress.
Breathe.
“Ithoughtyoudon’tbelieveinlove,”Iteased.
“You’reright.Thatwasthewrongword.”Christiantouchedthesmallofmybackwhilehiseyesmetmineinthemirror.
“Becauseloveisordinary.Mundane.Andyou,Stella…”Thesoftraspofthezipperfilledtheairashedraggeditupmyspineinoneexquisitely,torturouslyslowglide.
Mybreathleftmylungsatboththesensualityofthemovementandtherawintimacyofhisnextwords.
“You’reextraordinary.”32
STELLA
Delamonte’swrap
partyshould’vebeenthecrowninghighlightofmytrip,acelebrationofeverythingwe’daccomplishedoverthepastthreedays.
Instead,Ispenttheentiretyofitreplayingthatafternooninmyhead.
ThememoryofmykisswithChristianstayedwithmethroughdessert,asdidthephantombrushofhistouch.Withonezipofmydress,he’dawokenmoreheatinmethananyofmypreviouspartnershadwithactualsex.
I’dsuppresseditduringdinner,buttheheatblossomedagainasthebedroomdoorclosedbehindus.
Wehadn’tspokensincedinnerended,butthemereanticipationofwhatcould
happenraspedagainstmyskinassurelyasacallousedtouch.
TheairhummedwithbreathlessnessasChristianwalkedtothedresser,hislean,powerfulformslicingthroughthedarknesslikeafreshlyhonedbladethroughsilk.
Bloodroaredinmyearsanddrownedouteverythingexceptmyheartbeatsandthesoftrustleofhismovements.
“Youdon’thaveanyothercommitmentstonight,Ipresume.”Histonewasrelaxed,butwhenheturned,hiseyessmolderedwithsomuchheatIthoughtIwouldcombustfromthesheerintensityofit.
Anelectriccurrenttiedourgazestogetherasheremovedhiscufflinkswithaslow,deliberateprecisenessthatmademymouthgodry.
Roughhands.Whiskeyeyes.
Control.
“No.”
Thewhisperdrifteddownandtightenedmynipplesintohard,achingpoints.
Mylungsbarelyexpandedwithmyattemptstoinhaleandexhale.
“Good.”Clink.Clink.
Thesoundsofhiscufflinkshittingthesilvertrayechoedinthedarkandthrobbedlowinmybelly.“Takeoffyourdress,Stella.”
Hisdeceptivelysoftcommandburnedupalltheoxygenintheroomandseteverymoleculeofmybodyablaze.
Mybreathsshallowed.
Thiswasit.
Theforkintheroad.
Icouldstickwiththesafepathandtellhimno,orIcouldthrowcautiontothewindanddowhatmyheartandbodywerescreamingatmetodo.
IheldChristian’sgazeasIreachedbehindme.
Aminutelater,mydresspooledaroundmyfeetinapuddleofwhitesilk.
Nobra,noaccessories,justatinyscrapofunderwearandaheartbeatingtoofast.
Christian’sexpressiondidn’tshift.
Standingtherebaredandopentohim,Iwould’vethoughthimunmovedhaditnotbeenforhiseyes.Blackpupilsswallowedamberasheclosedthedistancebetweenus,andthecloserhegot,thehotterIburned.
“Tellme.”Thetinyglideofhisfingerovermyhipwasenoughtosendmypulseintooverdrive.“Doyouwantsex,ordoyouwanttobefucked
?”
Mythighsinvoluntarilyclenchedatthewayhesaidfucked
.Itwasthedarkpurrofapredatortoyingwithitsprey,makingthembegfortheirowndestructionbeforeitpounced.
Theonlydifferencewas,Ididn’tfeellikeprey.
Ihadachoice,andI’dneverfeltmorepowerful.
Moisturegatheredbetweenmythighs.IwassowetIcouldfeelitslickingmyskin,butIwasstillhalftemptedtotakethesaferoute.Tohaveeasy,ordinarysexwhereIdidn’thavetobareanypartofmyselfexceptmybody.
Mymindwarredwitheveryotherpartofmeforcontrol.
Doyouwantsex,ordoyouwanttobe
fucked?
I’dkeptmydesirescagedforsolong,butperhapsitwasfinallytimeIsetthemfree.
Ididn’twantsoftkissesandgentlecaresses.
Iwantedskinandblood.Iwantednailsscratchingdownhisbackandbruisesonmyhips.
Thecommands.Therelease.Theoblivion.
Iwanteditall.
“Iwanttobefucked.”Mywhisperwasbarelyaudible.
“Ican’thearyou.”Hisfingersglidedoverthedampnessofmypanties,andIfoughtbackamoanatthedeliciousfriction.
Embarrassmentandlustblazedthroughmeinequalmeasure.
“Iwanttobefucked,”Irepeated.
Strongerthistime,moreconfident,butitwasn’tenough.
“Louder,Stella.Useyourvoice.”Hisvoicehardened,hiswordspitiless.“Tellmewhatyouwant.”
Hepressedafirmthumbtomyclit,histouchasbrutalashiscommand.White-hotsensationsparkedthroughmeanddrownedoutmyembarrassment.
“Iwanttobefucked!”Thewordsexplodedoutofme,rawandfiltered,followedbyaneedymoanwhenChristianrubbedhisthumboverme.
Hissmilewasthatofadangerouslyseductivemonsterpromisingallsortsoffilthy,debaucheddeeds.“That’swhatIthought.”
Hetoremyunderwearoffwithonesharptugbeforehismouthcrashedovermine,swallowingmygaspandensuingmoanwhenhefistedmyhairhardenoughtomakemyeyeswater.
Thehardtugarrowedtomycoreliketherewasanelectricwiredirectlylinkingthetwo.Myscalpthrobbedinrhythmwithmyclit,andmymindwassocloudedbydesireIdidn’tnoticewe’dmoveduntilmybackhitthebed.
IwatchedasChristianshedhisclothes,revealingbroad,sculptedshouldersandasexyV-cutthatleddowntohis…
OhmyGod.
Mymouthdriedatthesightofhiscock.Long,thick,andhard,withabeadofpre-cumglisteningatitstip.ItwassobigthatIinvoluntarilyclenchedatthethoughtofitfillingme.
Themattressdippedbeneathhisweight,andhisthumbfoundmyclitagain,circlingandstrokinguntilitwasswollenandneedyandbeggingformore
“Howwouldyouliketobefucked,Butterfly?”Hekepthisthumbonmyclitandpushedafingerinsideme,workingitdeeperwitheachmovement.Awhimperclawedupmythroatasmybodylitbeneathhiseroticmanipulations.“Onyourbackandspreadwide,oronallfourstakingeveryinchofmycockinthattightlittlepussy?”
HadInotbeenlostinahazeoflust,Imight’vebeenembarrassedbyhisfilthywords.ButIwastoofargone,andChristianwastheonlymanI’devertrulyfantasizedabout.
Hewaseverydarkthingthatcouldn’tbewhisperedanddirtydeedthatIsecretlycraved.
“Both.”Morewhimperspouredoutwhenheworkedanotherfingerinsidemeandpumpedbothinandout—slowlyatfirst,thenfasterandfasteruntilhefoundarhythmthatmademyheadspin.“Ashardasyoucan.”
Iheardagroan,followedbyaharshcommand.
“Getonyourhandsandknees.”
IdidasIwastold.ThecoolairbrushedmysensitizedsexasIturnedandpositionedmyselfonallfours.Iwasdrenched,drippingalldownmythighsandprobablyruiningthesheetsbeforeweevenstarted.
IheardthefaintripoffoilbeforetheheatofChristian’sbodyenvelopedme.Hefistedmyhairwithonehandandgrippedmyhipwiththeotherhardenoughtobruise.
“Remember…”Iletoutasmallcrywhenheyankedmyheadbackuntilhismouthwasnexttomyear.Theheadofhiscockslidagainstmyslickentrance,untilIpracticallypantingwithanticipation.“Youwantedithard.”
Hereleasedmyhair,pushedmefacedownonthepillow,andslammedinsidemewithasinglepowerfulthrust.
Iletoutasmallcry.Iwaswetenoughthatheslidineasily,buthewassobigitwasalmostpainful.
Painwarredwithpleasureasmyeyeswateredandmyinnermusclesstretchedtotheirmax.
“Fuck,
you’retight.”Another,moregutturalgroan.“That’sit,sweetheart.Youcantakeit.”
ChristianheldontighttomyhipsandstrokedhisthumbsoverthecurveofmyassinsoothingsweepswhileIstruggledtoaccommodatehissize.
Mybreathscameoutinsoftpants.Iwasimpossiblyfull,butgradually,thepainsubsidedandgavewaytodeliciouspressure.
Myteethunclenchedenoughforalowmoantoslipout.
Ipushedbackathim,desperateformore.
Morefriction,moremovement,moreanything.
Iheardachuckle,followedbyasoft“goodgirl”.
ThenChristianslammedintomeagain,thistimewithsuchviciousnessitknockedthebreathoutofmylungs.
Isquealed,mymindblankingatthesudden,forcefulinvasion.Darkpleasureburstthroughme,andIbarelyhadtimetocatchmybreathbeforehestartedmovingagain.
Onehandstayedonmyhipwhiletheotherpressedagainstthebackofmyneck,forcingmyfacedeeperintothepillow.
Roughhands.
Savagestrokes.
Apunishing,carnalrhythmthatcoaxedmoanaftermoanoutofmymouth.
“Youfeelsofuckinggood,”Christiangrunted.“It’slikeyourpussywasmadeforme.Everyfuckinginch.”
Hewithdrewsojustthetipremainedinsideme,paused,thenplungedbackinwithonebrutalthrust.Againandagain,untiltheheadboardbangedagainstthewallanddrownedoutmymuffledsquealsandwhimpers.
TearsanddroolsoakedmypillowasChristianpoundedmemercilessly.I’dbeenreducedtoawreck,heldtogetherwithnothingbutmind-numbingpleasureandthesoftestpricksofpain.
Itwasn’tsex.Itwaspure,hardfucking…anditwasexactlywhatIneeded.
TheguysI’dpreviouslysleptwithhadtreatedmelikeIwasaporcelaindollinbed.Theirintentionsweregood,butthesexhadexcitedmeasmuchasagameofgolf.
Ididn’twantgentle.Iwantedpassioninitsrawestform.Iwantedtheoblivionthatcamewithpleasureandtheknowledgethat,nomatterwhatformthatpleasurecamein,Icouldtrustthepersondeliveringitnottohurtme.
BecauseasroughasChristianwas,I’dneverfeltsafer.
Anothercryfellfrommylipswhenhewrappedhisfistaroundmyhairandyankedmyheadbackagain.
“You’redrippingallovermycock,sweetheart.Lookatyou.”Heswepthisthumbovermydampcheek.Iwasamess,myfacestreakedwithtearsandmybodytremblingwithlust.“Anangelabouttocomefrombeingfuckedlikeawhore.”
Anelectricshivermovedthroughmyentirebodyathiswords.
“Please,”Isobbed.“Ineed—Ican’t—please
…”
Ididn’tknowwhatIwasbeggingfor.Forrelease,forhimtogoharder,forthisnevertoend.
AllIknewwas,hewastheonlyonewhocouldgiveittome.
“Pleasewhat?”Christiankeptonehandfistedinmyhairwhilehereachedhisotheraroundtomysensitizedsex.
“Please,Ineedto…”
Myreplydevolvedintoahoarsescreamwhenhepinchedmyclit.Mybrainshortcircuited,andmybodyspikedwithpleasuresointenseIinstinctivelytriedtoscootaway.
IonlymadeitafewinchesbeforeChristiandraggedmeback.
“Trythatagain,andI’llspankyousohardyouwon’tbeabletosit.”Iyelpedwhenhispalmlandedonmyasswithawarningslap.Heliftedhishandandcloseditaroundmythroat.“Iwanttofeel
youcomingonmycock,Stella.”Hisfingersdugharderintomyskinwitheachword.
Icouldonlyanswerwithastringofunintelligiblemoans.I’dlostmyvoicetotheneedcoiledbeneathmyskin,threateningtosplitmeapartattheseamsandturnmeintotheruinsofthepersonIoncewas.
Theonewho’dplayeditsafeherentirelife,who’dbeensoafraidofgoingafterwhatshewantedthatshedidn’tdarevoiceherdesiresoutloud.
She’dshatteredbeneathChristian’stouch,andIneverwantedherback.
Iclosedmyeyes,picturingtheobsceneimagewemust’vemade.Meonallfours,myheadpulledbackandmybackarchedwhileChristianpoundedmefrombehind.Onehandaroundmythroat,theotherhandfistingmyhair.Afaintredmarkfromwhenhispalmstruckmyass…
Heatmoveddownmyspine,buildingandbuildinguntilIexplodedintoathousandbrilliantpinpointsoflight.Theyracedthroughmyveinsandlitamatchtoeverynerveendinguntiltheyconsumedmewhole.
OhGod.
Nowonderotherpeopleravedaboutsex.Ifthatwaswhatitwassupposed
tobelike…
IwasstillclingingtotheremnantsofmyorgasmwhenChristianflippedmeoverontomyback.Hisarmsbracketedmybody,andhismouthgrazedmineashisthrustsslowedinto…notsomethingsoft,butsofter.
Moresensual.
“Icanstillfeelyourpussyripplingaroundmycock.”Hecuppedmybreastandrubbedhisthumboverthestiffpeak.“AsbeautifulasIimagined.”
Hekissedmeharder,hismouthclaimingmineandhishandsmappingmymosterogenouszonesashefuckedmetowardanotherorgasm.
“Rightthere,”Ipantedwhenhehitaspotinsidemethatmademytoescurl.Iclungtohim,mylegsspreadwidetotakehimasdeepashecouldgo.“Harder.Please,I…ohGod…
”Mymoanspitchedhigherwhenheincreasedhispaceandthetremorsofasecondclimaxquakedthroughme.
Slowlyatfirst,thenallatoncewhenChristianpinchedmynippleanddroveintomewithasmuchforceasthebeginningofthenight.
Icriedoutaswaveafterwaveofpleasurewashedthroughme.
Ifelthimshudderandjerkinsidemebeforehe,too,camewithagroan,butIwassweptupineuphoriasointenseitdrownedouteverythingelse.
ItwentonforwhatfeltlikeforeverbeforeIfinallyslumpedintoasweaty,mindlessheap.
Foronce,thevoicesinsidemyheadweresilent.Iwasfloatingonacloudofpost-orgasmicbliss,andIwantedtostaythereforever.
Nodoubts,noinsecurities,nooveranalyzing.Justthesoft,raggedsoundsofmybreathsandthepressofChristian’smouthagainstmyskinashekissedhiswaydownmyneckandtorso.
Thegentlenessofhistouchwasatcompleteoddswiththesavageryofhisfucking,butitfeltsorightIdidn’tquestionit.
Inearlypurredwithcontentmentwhenherolledmeontomysideandsmoothedahandovermyass.HisstrongfingerskneadedthemuscleuntilImeltedintoabonelesspuddle.
“Youdidsowell,”hemurmured.“Suchagoodgirl.”
Hiswordswrappedaroundmelikeasoftblanketandsparkedanotheremberofheatinmystomach.
Iguessthatwaswhathappenedwhengirlswithaneedforacademicvalidationgrewup.Theydevelopedapraisekink.
“Weshoulddothiseverynight,”Isaiddrowsily.It’dbeenalongday,andasmuchasIwantedasecondround,IwassotiredIcouldbarelykeepmyeyesopen.“It’sbetterthanyoga.”
Helaughed,asoftrumbleofnoisethatwaspuremalesatisfaction.
“Ican’tthinkofahighercompliment.”Hemovedhisbodyupuntilhelaynexttomeanddroppedakissontopofmyhead.“Nocomplaintsfrommeifyouwanttomakethisyournightlyroutineinstead.”
“Hmm.”Iclosedmyeyesandsnuggledclosertohim.
Assoftasthismomentwas,apartofmeknewChristianandIhadentereddangerousnewterritoryinourrelationship.Andwhilemyself-preservationinstinctsweredoingtheirbesttoringthealarm,Ialsoknewtherewasnogoingback.33
CHRISTIAN/STELLA
CHRISTIAN
Shewasdreaming.Icouldtellbythewayherlipscurvedandthesoftnoisesshemadeinhersleep.
Iwonderedwhatshewasdreamingaboutandwhethersaiddreamincludedme.
Ifnot,thatwasunacceptable.
Ipressedasoftkisstohershoulderandwrappedapossessivearmaroundherwaist.
Whetherinheavenorhell,indreamsorreallife,Stellawasmine.
AndIdidn’tfuckingshare.
Shestirredandletoutasmall,adorableyawnbeforehereyesflutteredopenandmetmine.
“Goodmorning.”
Asmiletouchedmylipsathershytone.
“Morning,Butterfly.Sweetdreams?”
“Mmhmm.”Shestretchedandsnuggledclosertome.
“Whatwereyoudreamingabout?”
“Idon’treallyremember.Somethinginvolvingaboat?Ikeepmeaningtostartadreamjournal,butIalwaysforget.”
Ichosenottoaskwhatadreamjournalwas.
“Wereyoualoneinthedream?”Iaskedcasually.
“Hmm,nowthatyoumentionit,therewassomeoneintheboatwithme,”shesaid.“Darkhair,tannedskin,abitolderthanmebutreallygood-looking…”
Asmuggrincreptovermylips.
Stellasnappedherfingers.“Iremembernow.ItwasRicardo!”
SheletoutasquealoflaughterwhenIrolledheroverandpinnedherarmsaboveherhead.
“Youthinkthat’sfunny,”Igrowled,butasmilethreatenedtoslipfreeatthesparkleinhereyes.
“Iwasonlytellingthetruth,”sheteased.“Don’ttellmeyou’rejealousofadream.Ididn’tthinkyou’dbeoneofthoseguyswhogetsclingyaftersex.”
“Itoldyou,Stella.I’mjealousofeverythingwhenitcomestoyou.”Somethingdarkandpossessivemovedthroughmychest.“Anditwasn’tjustfuckingsex.”
Sexwasatransaction,somethingpeopledidtopassthetimeandfindphysicalrelease.Anyonecouldhavesex.Butnoonecouldripmeapartandputmebacktogetherthewayshecould.
“Iwasjoking,Grumpypants.”Stellaliftedherheadandpressedalightkissonmymouth.“Idon’trememberthedream,butifIdid
remember,I’msureitfeaturedyou.”
“You’reonlysayingthattomakemefeelbetter,”Igrumbled.
Herlipstwitched.“Isitworking?”
“No.”ButmyshouldersrelaxedandIreleasedherwristsasherlaughwounditswaythroughmychest.
IthoughtStellawould’velosthermysterybynow.We’dlivedtogetherfortwomonths;Ishould’vealreadygottenboredandmovedon.
ButthemoreIgottoknowher,themoresheembeddedherselfintomybeing
Shewasastudyincontrasts,themostfascinatingpuzzleI’devercomeacross—strengthandvulnerability,calmandchaos,innocenceanddebauchery.Thewomanwhosegentlesmilesoothedthesavagebeastinsidemewasthesameonewhounleasheditwithhercriesandpleasformore
.Formetotakeherandmarkherasmine.
StellaAlonsohadconsumedmyworldinawaythatmadeitimpossibletogoback.Therewasonlybeforeherandafterher.
Welaythereforawhileandsoakedinthecomfortablesilencebeforeshespokeagain.
“Iwishwecouldstaylonger.”Herwistfulsightuggedatmyheart.“Idon’twanttogobacktothecityyet.Ihaven’tevenexploredtheisland.It’sjustbeenDelamontestufftheentiretime.”
“Solet’sstay.”
Imadethedecisionwithoutthinking.ItseemedmydefaultsettingwasgivingStellaanythingshewanted.
Ihopednooneeverdiscoveredthisweakness.Itwouldbecatastrophicformeandforher.
Hereyeswidenedwithdelightbeforesheshookherhead.“Wecan’t.Youhavework,andyou’vealreadybeengoneforthreedays.”
Ihadmorethanwork.Ihadafuckingmessthatrequiredimmediatehandling
Thecold,rationalpartofmeinsistedIreturntoD.C.todayasoriginallyplanned.StayinginHawaiiwastheworstdecisionIcouldmake,andIhadn’tbuiltanempirebymakingbaddecisions.
ButitwasStella’sfirsttimeinHawaii,anddespiteherprotest,Icouldseetheglimmerofhopeinhereyes.
Shereallywantedtostay,andIwouldratherloseanempirethanseehersadatmyhands.
WhispersofthesecretsI’dkeptandtheliesI’dtoldcreptupbeforeIsmashedthem.
“It’stheweekend,”Isaid.“We’llleaveMonday.Twoextradayswon’thurt.”
Hopefully.
Herfacelitup.“Okay.Imean,ifyouinsist.”
Mymouthcurledintoanindulgentsmileassherambledonaboutallthethingsshewantedtodo.
Lastnight,ourkissonthebeach…
I’dcometotermswithmychoice.Iwouldn’tholdmyselfbackfromwhatIwantedanymore.
AndnomatterhowmuchI’dtriedtodenyitinthepast,thiswaswhatI’vewantedsinceIfirstsawher.Stellainmyarms,happyandsafeandmine
Butasperfectaseverythingwaswithusnow,Iknewthatifsheeverfoundoutthetruth,shewouldhateme.
Whichwaswhyshecouldneverfindout.
***
STELLA
SinceweonlyhadtwodaystoexploreKauai,ChristianandIpackedasmuchintoouritineraryaspossible.
Hiking,sunsetsails,helicoptertours,visitstolocalmuseumsandsecludedbeaches…wediditall.
Wewokeupatsunriseandreturnedtoourhotelpastdinnertime,wherewespenthoursexploringeachotherasthoroughlyaswedidtheisland.
Whetheritwasslowandsoftorroughandhard,sexwithChristianwasasmuchanemotionalreleaseasitwasaphysicalone.
However,onourlastday,westuckwithsomethingmorelow-keysinceChristianhadaboardmeetingandwehadtoflyoutearlyinthemorning.
Ididn’tknowthelow-keythingwas
sincehe’dplanneditasasurprise,butIwasintrigued.He’dtakencontrolofouritinerarysincehe’dbeentoKauaibefore,andhe’dyettosteermewrong.
“Isthis
thesurprise?”IeyedtheHarleyparkednexttousasChristianfittedahelmetonme.“Ineverwould’vepeggedyouforamotorcyclekindofguy.It’skindofsexy.”
Morethansexy.InasimplewhiteT-shirtandjeans,hewasdevastating.Itwasmorethantheclothes,though.
Twodaysofsunandrelaxationhadstrippedawayhiscarefullycultivatedmasktorevealtheplayful,charmingmanunderneath,andIwantedtoholdontohimforaslongasIcould.
“Kindof?”Henotchedadarkbrowashestraddledthemotorbike.Theengineroaredtolifeandsentathrillthroughmyblood.
“Ican’tmakeafinaldeterminationuntilIseewhatyouractualdrivingskillsarelike,”Isaidsolemnly.“Soyes,fornow,it’skindof.”
“You’re
talkingaboutdrivingskills?”Hisbrowrosehigher.“Butterfly,youalmostrearendedourguideyesterday.”
Iknewhewouldn’tletthatgo.“Itwasn’tmyfault,”Ihuffed.“Hecameoutofnowhere!”
Christianpressedhislipstogether,andittookmeasecondtorealizehewassuppressinglaughter.
“It’snotfunny.”Mycheeksflamed.MaybeIwasn’tthebest
driverintheworld,butI’dtried.“Ifeltbadaboutyoudrivinguseverywhere,soIoffered…stoplaughing.”
“Iwouldneverlaughatyou,”hesaidwithagrin.“Iwillalsonevergetinacarwithyoubehindthewheelagain.”
“ItakebackwhatIsaid.”Iclimbedontothebackofthebikeandwrappedmyarmsaroundhiswaistwithadisgruntledfrown.“You’renotsexyatall.”
“It’sokay.”Hisshouldersshookwithlaughteraswepulledawayfromourhotel.“I’msureIcanchangeyourmind.”
“Idoubtit,”Imuttered,butthewindswallowedmywordsaswespeddowntheisland’stree-linedroads.
Ittookustwentyminutestoreachourdestination.ItwasasecludedbeachontheNorthShore,andeventhoughitwasalmostsunset,itwasemptysaveforthegorgeouspicnicsetuponthesand.
Pillows,cushions,andblanketssurroundedalowtabledrapedinasilkywhitecloth.Tinycandlesflickerednexttoabottleofwineandasumptuousdinnerspread.
Isuckedinasharpbreath.“Howdidyou…”
“Ihadthehotelsetsomethingup.”Christian’smouthcurved.“Don’tworry.They’llbreakeverythingdownafterwefinisheating.Notaspeckoflitterwillbeleftbehind.”
“It’sbeautiful.”
Astrangelumpformedinmythroat.
Itwasfinallysinkinginthatthiswasourlastnightontheisland.Somuchhadhappenedsincewe’darrived,andI’dtrickedmyselfintothinkingthefantasycouldlastforever.
Hawaiiwasadream,butitwasn’tsomethingwecouldbringbackwithus.
WhatwouldhappenwhenwereturnedtoD.C.?Wouldwereturntothestatusquo?
Itwaseasytoactlikeacouplewhenitwasjustusinparadise,butweweren’t
acouple.We’dneverhadthatconversation,andsexdidn’tnecessarilymeananythingintoday’sdayandage.
Somepeoplehadsexwiththesamepersonformonthsandstilldidn’tconsidertherelationshipexclusive.
ChristianandIsettledatthetable.Dinnerwasobjectivelydelicious,butIbarelytasteditbecauseIwastoobusyimaginingwhatwouldhappenoncewegotofftheplanetomorrow.
Finally,Icouldn’tholditinanylonger.
Ihatedbreakingthespell,butifwedidn’thavethe
conversation,theuncertaintywouldeatmealiveallnight.
Arewedating?Isthisafriendswithbenefitsthing?Doyouwanttocontinuewhatever“this”isinD.C.?
IranthroughallthewaysIcouldbringupthetopic,butIwastooterrifiedofhisanswertouseanyofmyinitialoptions.
Instead,Itookthecoward’swayout.
“Thankyouforthepastfewdays.TheywerejustwhatIneeded.”Idugmytoesintothecoolsandandkeptmyeyesonthetable.“Wemakeaprettygoodfakecouple,don’twe?”
Thewordsburnedlikeacidontheirwayout.
“Fakecouplewithbenefits,”Iadded,hopingtolightenthesuddenlytenseatmosphere.
IsnuckapeekatChristian.Hisfacelookedlikeitwascarvedfromgranite,buthiseyesburneddarkandintimidating.
“Fakecouple?”Hissilkenvoicewrappedicearoundmythroat.
Ashiverraspedovermyskin,butIforgedon.“Thatwasouragreement.Afewkissesandsexdon’tchangeanything.”
Iwasn’tnaiveenoughtothinkthatjustbecausehesleptwithme,hewantedanythingmorethanagoodtime.We’dgivenintosomethingbetweenus,butthatdidn’tmeanIhadanycommitmentfromhim.
I’dseentoomanypeoplegettheirheartsbrokenbecauseofsuchanassumption,andIrefusedtobeoneofthem.
“Theydon’t,dothey?”Lower.Moredangerous.“Thenwhat,exactly,dothosefewkissesandsex
meantoyou?”
SomethingtoldmeIshouldn’tanswer,butIdidanyway.Self-preservationhadneverbeenmystrongsuitwhenitcametoChristian.
“Afantasy.Noneofthisisreal.”Igesturedatthebeach.“It’snever
beenreal.Hawaiiisadream,butit’sendingtomorrow,andIwanttosettherightexpectationsbeforewereturntoD.C.Yousaidityourself.”Thelumpinmythroatgrew.“Youdon’tbelieveinlove.”
Despitemyaversiontorelationships,Iwasaromanticatheart.
WhenIfoundtherightperson,Iwanted
togetsweptupinthatgrand,all-consuminglove.Thetypeoflovethat’dcompelledAlextomovetoanothercountryforAva,thatgaveBridgetandRhysthecouragetogoagainstacountry,andthattransformedyearsofanimositybetweenJoshandJulesintosomethingbeautiful.
Thattypeofloveexisted.I’dwitnesseditwithmyowneyes.
Butitwasn’tsomethingChristianbelievedin,andwhileIknewhewantedme,hedidn’twantmeenoughtochangesuchadeep-rootedbelief.
MenlikeChristianHarperdidn’tchangeforanyone.
“Lovehasnothingtodowiththis.”Hishardreplyprovedmypoint.
Thebittertasteofdisappointmentwelledonmytongue.“Exactly.”
“Youweretheonewhotoldmenottofallinlovewithyou,Stella.Doyourememberthat?”Thosedarkeyespiercedmine.
“Yes,andImeantit.”IresistedtheurgetotwistmynecklacearoundmyfingerlikeIalwaysdidwhenIwasnervous.Itwasmytell,andIbetChristianhadalreadypickeduponit.“Istilldo.”
BecauseifChristianeverfellinlovewithme,Ididn’ttrustmyselfnottofallinlovewithhiminreturn.
AndIhadafeelinglovewithhimwouldn’tbesweetoreasy.Itwouldbecatastrophic.
“Thingshavegottentoocomplicatedwithmemovingin,thestalkersituation,andthistrip,”IsaidwhenChristianremainedsilent.“Theoriginalrulesofourarrangementaregettingblurred.Maybeweneedtoseeotherpeoplesowedon’t—”
Ididn’tgetachancetofinishbeforehismouthcoveredmineandhekissedmewithasoft,desperateviciousnessthatIfeltfrommyheadtomytoes.
“Tellme…”Hecurledahandaroundthenapeofmyneck.“Doesthisfeelfake
toyou?”
No.
Thatwastheproblem.Itfelttooreal,asdidthepossibilitythathecouldbreakmyheart.
“Iwanttomakeafewthingsclear.”Christian’slipsbrushedminewitheachword.“Touchanotherman,hedies.Letanothermantouchyou,hedies.TellmeI
can’ttouchyou…”Hisgriptightenedonthebackofmyneckashisvoicedropped.“AndIwillfuckingdie.”
Anachegrabbedholdofmyheartandtwisted.“Christian…”
“Love
isnothingbutaword.”Theintensityofhiswordsstoletheremainingbreathfrommylungs.“Thisisn’taboutwords.It’saboutus.DoyouthinkIwoulddisruptmyscheduleandflytoHawaiiinthemiddleofaworkweekforanyoneelse?”
“It’sanicedestination,”Isaidweakly.
“Ithoughtitwasobvious,butincaseitisn’t,you’remine,Stella.”Histouchbrandedmyskinwithhotpossessiveness.“Idon’twanttoseeotherwomen,andIsureasfuckdon’twantyouseeingothermen.”Icefrostedthewordmen
.“Youbelongwithme.Exclusively.Thereisnotaworldorlifetimewherethat’snottrue.”
Emotionstungthebacksofmyeyes,butImanagedtosmilethroughthetightnessinmychest.
“ChristianHarper,areyouaskingmeout?”
“Yes.”Simple,unequivocal.Real.
Itseemedalmostcomicalthatsomeonelikehimwoulddosomethingasmundaneasaskagirlout,butthatdidn’tstopmystomachfromflutteringormymindfromplayingthroughthepasttwomonths.
Onpaper,ourrelationshiphadbeenfake,buttherewasnothingfakeaboutthewayhe’dtakencareofme,supportedme,andbelievedinme.NorwasthereanythingfakeaboutthewayIfeltwhenIwaswithhim,likeIcouldbeme
andhe’dwantmeanyway,flawsandall.
“So…”Christian’smouthgrazedmine.“Whatdoyousay,Butterfly?Wanttogivethisdatingthingarealshot?”
Ishouldn’t.Thereweresomanywaysthiscouldgowrong,butwasn’tthattrueofeveryriskpeopletook?
Norisk,noreward.
Foronce,Iturnedofftheover-analyticalpartofmybrainandwentwithwhatmyhearttoldmetodo.
“Yes.”Simple.Unequivocal.Real.
Ifelthissmileagainstmylipsbeforehekissedmeagain.Softerthistime,moretender.
Tender
wasn’tawordI’dthoughtIwouldeverassociatewithChristian,butheconstantlytookmebysurprise.
Imeltedintohimandlethistaste,touch,andthelastfewhoursofourdreamsweepmeawaytoaplacewheremyworriesdidn’texist.
Iwasusedtobeingalone.EvenwhenIwassurroundedbypeople,apartofmeisolateditselfuntilIfeltlikeIwaswatchingamovieofmylifeinsteadoflivingit.
Ihadneverbelongedtosomeone,norhadsomeoneeverbelongedtome.Theideawasequalpartsthrillingandterrifying.
ButwhatwasevenmoreterrifyingwastherealizationthatIdidn’tmindbelongingwithChristian.
Notevenalittlebit.34
STELLA
Christian
andIwereofficiallydating.Itfeltstrange,notonlybecauseitwasn’tsomethingI’deverthoughtwouldhappenbutalsobecausetotheoutsideworld,nothinghadchanged.Intheireyes,we’dbeenacouplethisentiretime.
I’dpostedmyHawaiiphotosafterwereturnedtoD.C.,andourcoupleshotsdidgreat,asexpected.IwasstillkeepingupwithmyInstagram,thoughmyattentionwasnowsplitbetweenthatandmyfashionline.
Theonlypeoplewhoknewourpre-Hawaiirelationshiphadn’t
beenrealwereChristian,myself,andmyfriends,who’dgreetedmyannouncementwithconsiderablylesssurprisethantheyhadthepreviousbombshell.
AccordingtoJules,it’dbeen“inevitable”basedonhowwe’dbeeneyefuckingeachotheratherhousewarming.
ChristianandIwentonourfirstrealdateaweekafterwereturnedfromHawaii.WetookeachothertoourfavoriteplacesinD.C.—theU.S.BotanicGardenforme,EasternMarketforhim.
Correction:aspecificvendor
atEasternMarketforhim.
“Mr.C!”Thevendor’sfacecreasedwithagummysmilewhenhesawChristian.“Goodtoseeyouagain!Andwithalovelyladybyyourside,too.”Hewinkedatme.“Whatareyoudoingwithanogrelikehim?”
HejerkedhisthumbatChristian,whoshookhishead.
“Beautyisn’teverything.”IpattedChristian’shand.“Hehasothergreatqualities.”
Thevendorlaughedwhilemynewboyfriendsighedwithexasperation,thoughaglintofhumorsurfacedinhiseyes.
“Stella,meetDonnie.Wannabecomedianandwoodworkerextraordinaire.”Hetappedapuzzleonthetable.“ThisistheonlyreasonIputupwithyouroldass.”
“Myoldasshasmorewisdomthanyoudoinyourpinky,”Donnieretorted.
AgrinworkeditswayontomyfaceasIsurveyedhiswares.“Theseareincredible
.”
ThetableboastedthemostintricatewoodworksI’deverseen,includingmodelsailboats,miniaturefoldingscreens,andaselectionofmind-bogglingpuzzles.
“Thankyou.”PrideglowedinDonnie’sface.“KeepsmebusynowthatI’mretired.”
ChristianandIchattedwithDonnieforawhileuntilothercustomerspulledhimaway.Weendedupbuyingtwopuzzles(Christian)andasetofgorgeouscarvedbangles(me).
“I’dsayourfirstdatewasasuccess.”Iswungmyshoppingbagaswewalkedtoanearbyrestaurantfordinner.
“Ofcourseitwas.Iplannedit.”
Mymouthdropped.“Hello?Didyouforgetaboutthegardenearlier?Weboth
plannedthedate.”
“Yes,butIdroveusallday.”
“Thatisnothowplanningworks!”
ChristianlaughedasIlightlyshovedhisarm.
Otherthanhisannoyinghabitoftakingcreditfordatesweboth
planned,Christianwasagreatboyfriend.Vagueandmoodyattimes,especiallyafterastressfuldayatwork,butconsiderateandsupportivealmostallthetime.
I’dallbutmovedintohisbedroomandturnedtheguestroomintoanoverflowcloset.Heworkedfromhometwiceaweeksowecouldspendmoretimetogether,andeventhoughwespentmostofthosedaysdoingourownthing—himonhislaptop,meonmyfashionlineplans—itwasnicehavinghimclose.
Allinall,Icouldn’thaveaskedforamoreperfectrealrelationship.
Still,ittookmeanothertwoweeksafterourfirstdatebeforeIinvitedChristiantojoinmeonavisittoMaura’s.
I’dneverbroughtanyonetoseeherbefore,andtheprospecttoreatmynerves.Whatifshedidn’tlikehim?Whatifhe
didn’tlikeher?Whatifshegotagitatedand—
Stop.It’llbefine.
Itookadeepbreathandtriedtocalmmyracingpulseaswestoppedinfrontofherroom.
“Here.”IshovedthetemblequewebroughtintoChristian’shands.“Youholdit.Idon’tcareifyoudon’tlikedessert.Youneedtobutterherup.”
“HereIthoughtmycharmwouldbeenough,”hedrawled,buthetookthedessertwithoutcomplaint.
“Idoubtit.”Itwistedthedoorknob.“She’snoteasilycharmedbymen.”
Butofcourse,heprovedmewrong.
Mauraloved
him,andnotjustbecauseofthetembleque,thoughthathelped.
ChristiansweptintotheroomlikePrinceCharming,handingherthedessertandcomplimentingheronhernecklace.Lessthantenminuteslater,theywerelaughingoverajokehemadelikethey’dknowneachotherforever.
Iwatchedthem,mouthagape.
ItwasoneofMaura’sbetterdays,andsheseemedinhighspirits,butstill.ItwasdisconcertingtoseethemgetsochummysofastwhenevenI
hadtowarmherupabiteverytimeIvisited.
Iwasn’tsurewhethertobehappytheygotalongsowellordisgruntledthatshegotalongwithhimbetterthanshedidme.
“Today’spuzzleday,”Maurasaid.“Ilikepuzzles.Doyoulikepuzzles?”ShenarrowedhereyesatChristianlikehisanswerwoulddeterminewhethertheycouldcontinuetheirnewfriendship.
Asmilespreadacrosshisface.“Ilovepuzzles.”
“Whatkind?”
“Everykind.Crosswords,jigsaws,cryptograms…”
“Ilikejigsawsthemost.”Maurainterruptedhimmid-sentence.“It’s…”Shehesitated,andIcouldseeherwrackingherbrainfortherightphrase.
IglancedatChristianastheminutestickedby.Hewaitedforhertocontinuewithoutahintofannoyanceorimpatience.
Somethingwarmheatedthepitofmystomachandexpandedintomychest.
“It’ssatisfying,”Maurafinallysaid.Thewordcameoutslowandhesitant,likeshewastestingwhetheritwastherightterm.“Whenthepiecesfittogetherandyouseethewholepicture.”
Christianstaredather,hisexpressionindecipherable.“Yes,”hesaidquietly.“Itis.”
I’dseenmanyiterationsofChristianHarperoverthepastthreemonths,buttheonesittingheretoday?HewastheoneIcouldmostseemyselffallingfor.
Iblinkedawaymyunwantedemotionandpastedonabrightsmile.
“Maura,wouldyouliketotakeawalkinthegarden?It’sabeautifulday.”
Herfacelitup.“Yes,please.”
“Milady.”Christianheldouthisarm.
Hewaslayingitonthick,butMauraactuallygiggled
asshetookhisarm.Ihadnever,notonceinallmyyearsofknowingher,heardMauragiggle.
Unbelievable.
Hemusthavethedevil’smagiconhisside.
“Howdidyoutwomeet?”sheaskedaswewalkedthroughtherosegarden.Itwasherfavorite,andwestoppedeverytwofeetsoshecouldoohandaahoverthelushblooms.
“We…”IalmosttoldherthestoryChristianandIhadconcocted,butIwentwithasemblanceofthetruth.Itfeltwrongtolietoher.“Weliveinthesamebuildingandhavesomemutualfriends.Iranintoabitoftrouble,andChristianhelpedmeout.”
“Oh.Howniceofhim,”Maurasaid.Shepattedhishand.“Youaresuchagentleman.Icanjusttell.”
Hesmiledandraisedaneyebrowatmeoverherhead.
Irolledmyeyes,butIcouldn’thelpsmiling.
AsinsufferableashewouldbeaftereffortlesslycharmingMaura,Ilovedhowwelltheygotalong.NothingstressedmeoutmorethanpeopleIcaredaboutbuttingheads.
Itwaswhymylastfamilydinnerhadtakensuchatollonme.BetweenHawaiiandmyfashionline,I’dbeenbusyenoughtoshoveittothebackofmymind,butithauntedmestill.
Irefusedtocavefirst,though.Ifmyfamilywantedtotalktome,theyknewwheretofindme.
Maura,Christian,andIwanderedthroughthegardensforawhileuntilMauragottiredandwereturnedtoherroom
“Ilikehim,”shesaidwhenChristianwenttotherestroom.“Suchahandsomeyoungman.Charmingtoo.”
Istaredather.“Doyou…haveacrush
onhim?”
Shesnorted.“Ofcoursenot!I’mtoooldtohavecrushes.Besides,heonlyhaseyesforyou.”
Myfacewarmed.“Idon’t…”
“Itistrue.”Shecoughedandpickedupherteacup.“Hedoesn’t…he…”Herhandsshookasshebroughtthecupclosertohermouth.Italmosttouchedherlipsbeforeshedroppedit,anditshatteredintoadozenjaggedpieces.
Maura’smouthfellopen.Hereyeswidenedandtookonafamiliarwildlook
“It’sokay.It’sokay,”Isaidquickly.“It’sjustacup.I’llgetthenursesto—”
“It’snotjustacup
!”Herbreathingquickened.“It’sbrokenandit’s…it’s…”Hergazedartedaroundtheroom.
“Everythingwillbefine.”Ikeptmyvoicecalmdespitethewaymystomachdropped.Shewasgrowingvisiblyagitated,andonceshegotagitated,itwasnearimpossibletocalmherdownwithoutsedation.“I’llcallanurseandthey’llcleanitup.They’re—”
“Alreadyontheirway.”Christian’svoicecutintotheconversation.Ihadn’theardhimcomein,buthemovedquicklythroughtheroomandkneltinfrontofher.“Therearenewcupsinthecommunityroom,alongwithpuzzles.Wouldyouliketodoonetogether?”
Maura’seyeswerestillbrightwithpanic,butherbreathsslowedintosomethingresemblingnormal.“Puzzle?”
“Ajigsawpuzzle,”heconfirmed.“Theirnewestone.You’llbethefirstpersontocompleteit.”
“I…yes.Ilikepuzzles.”Shereleasedherstrangleholdonherarmrest.“Ididapuzzleofapoodleonce.Iusedtoownapoodle.It’smyfavoritedogbreed…”
ShewentoffonatangentaboutthebestandworstdogbreedsasChristianguidedhertothecommunityroom.
Ifollowedthem,mythroattight.
“Thankyou,”IsaidonceMaurawashappilysettledwithherteaandpuzzle.“For…”Igesturedtowardthehallwaywhereherroomwassituated.“Andforcomingwithme.”
“Thereareworsewaystospendmyday.”Christianlacedhisfingersthroughmineandplacedourhandsonhisthigh.“Thankyouforinvitingme.”
Ilookeddownatourentwinedhandsandcouldn’tstopmyheartfromexpandingsomuchitmadeithardtobreathe.
Iaminsomuchtrouble.
***
Thatnight,
afterwevisitedMaura,ChristianandIattendedourfirstbusinesseventforhimasarealcouple.
Thesignificancewasn’tlostonme,thoughtheactualeventboredmetotears.Itwassometechgathering,andIspentmostofitsmiling,nodding,andpretendingIcaredaboutwhatpeopleweresayingwhileChristiannetworked.
“TheEUiskillinguswithitsregulations,”themanhewastalkingtogrumbled.“It’suntenable!”
IstifledayawnwhileChristianansweredhim.
Techregulationwasn’tnearlyasinterestingasbabyturtles.
Whiletheothermandronedonaboutsomenewlawthatjustpassed,IplacedahandonChristian’sarmandwhispered,“I’mgoingtotherestroom.I’llberightback.”
Henodded,andIslippedawaybeforeIhadtolistentoonemorecomplaintabouttheEU.
Therewasn’talinefortherestroom,soItooktheopportunitytofixmyhairandmakeupandcheckmynotifications.Myfollowercountwasstillgrowing,butitwasslowernowthaninthebeginningstagesofour“relationship.”
Ididn’tcareasmuchasIusedto.Joiningthemillion-followerclubmadegettingbigpartnershipseasier,butit’dalsomademerealizehowlittlethenumbermeantonapersonallevel.
Islippedmyphoneintomyclutchandexitedtherestroom.
ImadeithalfwaybacktoChristianwhenthehairsonthebackofmyneckrose.Irecognizedthatchill;itwaswhatIfeltwhensomeonewaswatchingme.
Myheadjerkedup,andIscannedtheroomfranticallyforanything—oranyone—suspicious.
Nothing.Justabunchofpeopleinsuits,grousingaboutthelatestregulatorylawsandbraggingabouttheircompanies’marketcaps.
You’rebeingparanoid.Yourstalkeris
nothere.Thisisaclosedevent—
Ascreamrosebutstuckinmythroatwhensomeonegrabbedmyassandsqueezed.Hard.
Iwhippedaroundandstaredindisbeliefatthemanleeringatme.
Hewinkedatmeandmoseyedonpastlikehehadn’tfull-ongroped
meinthemiddleofaprofessionalevent.
Iwastoostunnedtosayanythingbeforeheleft.
Theinteractionhadlastedlessthanaminute,butthatwasenoughtomakemefeellikeIwascoatedinalayerofgrimeIcouldneverscruboff.
“What’swrong?”ChristianpickeduponmydiscomforttheinstantIreturnedtohisside.
He’dhadhisbackturned,sohehadn’tseenwhathappened.Themanhe’dbeentalkingtohadalsowanderedoff,leavingusalone.
“Nothing.”IshiftedbeneathhisskepticalgazebeforeIadmitted,“Someonegropedmeonmywaybackfromtherestroom.”
Christianstilled.
“Who?”Histonewascalm,almostpleasant,butitcontainedsomethingthatevokedanarcticchillbeneathmyskin.
Mybodybetrayedthesmallvoicewarningmenottotellhim.
Iinstinctivelyflickedmyeyestowardthebar,wherethemanwho’dgropedmewashittingonanuninterested-lookingwoman.
Christianfollowedmygaze.
“Isee.”Hisinflectiondidn’tchange,butforebodingslithereddownmyspinelikethecool,scalyskinofasnake.
Somepeopleburnedhotwhentheywereangry,butChristianrancold.Thequieterhegot,themorepeopleneededtoworry.
“It’snotabigdeal,”Isaidanxiously.Ididn’twanthimdoinganythingthatmightgethimintotroubleorthathemightregretlater.“Itwasonlyapassinggrab.Notworthmakingasceneover.”
“Iwon’tmakeascene.”Christiansethisemptychampagneglassonanearbytable,hisfaceunreadable.“Infact,I’mdonehere.Areyoureadytoleave?”
Inoddedandbreathedasilentsighofrelief.ThankGod.
Betweenthemind-numbingconversationsandthejerkwhocouldn’tkeephishandstohimself,Iwasreadytoputthenightbehindme.
Still,whenweexitedthebuildingandwalkedtoChristian’scar,Icouldn’tshakethesensethatwhoeverhadraisedmyinneralarmsearlierhadn’tbeenthemanwhogropedme,butsomeoneelseentirely.35
CHRISTIAN
Thedoorclosed
withaquietsnick
behindme.
Inthehushofmysatelliteoffice,itsoundedlikeagunshot.
Themanseatedinsidejumped,hiskneebangingagainstmydeskasheswiveledtofaceme.
Irecognizedhimfromlastnight’stechevent.Somelow-levelentrepreneurwho’dweaseledhiswayintothegathering.
I’dlethimwaitinherealonebecauseIwasn’tworriedabouthimstealingorsnooping.Ireservedmysatelliteofficeformore…unsavoryconversations,anditdidn’tcontainanythingexceptbasicofficefurniture.
“I’vebeenwaitingforhalfanhour.”HestatedthefuckingobviouslikeIcouldn’ttelltime.
“Haveyou?”Igavenegativeshitsabouthowlonghe’dhadtowait.FrankRiverswasabottomfeeder.HewouldwaittwohoursifIwantedhimto.“Apologies.”
Iwalkedtomydeskandtooktheseatoppositehim.
SilencedescendedagainasIstudiedhim.Mydispassionategazesweptfromhisthinningbrownhairtohistackygreenshirt.Hisjacketstretchedalittletootightacrosshisshoulders,andafilmofperspirationdottedhisupperlip.
“DoyouknowwhyIaskedforthismeeting?”Iaskedconversationally.
“No.Yourguydidn’tsay.”Frank’seyesdartedaround.I’dhadKagebringhimin,andIwould’velaughedathisobviousnervousnessifIhadanounceofamusementleftinsideme.“Iassumeithastodowithmynewbusiness.”Hischestpuffedupalittle.
“Yournewbusiness.”
Hedeflated.“Yes.I…Ithoughtyouwantedtotalkbusiness.Offermesecurity.”
Thistime,Ididlaugh,thoughthesoundlackedhumor.
Iwouldn’tprovidesecurityforFrankRiversevenifhepaidmeabilliondollarsandofferedtowipemyasseverydayfortherestofmylife.
“No.That’snotwhyIwantedtoseeyou.”Ipulledopenmydeskdrawer.“Iheardyou’reabigfanofwhisky.”
Surpriseflittedacrosshisface,followedbyconfusion.“Yes…”
“I’mafanmyself.”Iretrievedadistinctiveblackboxwithgoldlettering.
JudgingbyFrank’ssharpinhale,herecognizeditimmediately.
“Yamakazitwenty-five-year-oldwhisky,”Iconfirmedwithasmile.“Costmetwentygrand.”
Iownedabottleoffifty-five-year-oldYamakazithatcostfortytimesthat,butIwouldneverwasteitonscumlikeRivers.
“Wouldyoulikesome?”Iaskedpolitely.
AtFrank’seagernod—themanwaspracticallysalivating—Iopenedthebottleandfilledthetwocrystalglassessittingonmydesk.
MylipcurledwithdisdainwhenFrankpouncedonhisbeforeIfinishedpouringthesecond.
Nomanners.
EmilyPostmustberollinginhergrave.
“Ididhaveonequestion,”Isaidbeforetheglassfullyreachedhisfleshylips.“Whenyougropedmydateattheeventlastnight,whichhanddidyouuse?”
Hefroze.Allthecolorblanchedfromhisskin.“What—I—”
“Mydate.”Ileanedback,leavingmyowndrinkuntouched.“Tall,curlydarkhair,blackdress.Themostbeautifulwomanattheevent.”
“I—Ididn’tknow…Ididn’tknowshewasyourdate.”Frank’sstutteredexcusewasalmostaspatheticashisetiquette.“I’msor—”
“I’mnotinterestedinyourapology.I’minterestedinananswer.”Thefinelyhonededgeofmyrageslicedthroughmycordialmask.ThethoughtofhimevenbreathinginStella’spresence,muchlessfuckingtouchingher,madeacidburninmyblood.“Which.Hand?”
SweatstainsbloomedonFrank’sshirt.“R-right.”
“Isee.”Mysmilereturned.“Putthedrinkdown.”
Hewasholdingitwithhisrighthand.
“Iswear,Ididn’tknow!I—Iarrivedlateand—”
Myeyesnarrowed.
Afterabeatofhesitation,hesetthedrinkdownwithatremble.Icould’veswornIheardanactualwhimper.
Mydisdaindeepened.Pathetic.
IwaiteduntilFrank’spalmhitthewoodensurfacebeforeIpulledthebladefrommydraweranddroveitthroughhishand.Fleshandboneyieldedlikebuttertothecold,razor-sharpsteel.
AninhumanhowlrippedthroughtheroomwhileIfrownedatthebloodpoolingonthevintagemahogany.
PerhapsIshould’vedonethisonalessexpensivesurface,butalas,itwastoolate.
IreturnedmyattentiontoFrank.Hiseyesbulgedwithpain,andwheezinggaspslefthisthroatassweattrickleddownthesidesofhisface.
“Youmadeamistake,Mr.Rivers.”IkeptmygriponthehandleofthebladeasIleanedforward.
“Youtouchedwhatwasmine.Andifthere’sonethingIhate…”Ipushedtheknifedeeper,lettingtheserratededgetearthroughhisfleshwithagonizingslownessuntilhiscriesreachedaninhumanpitch.“It’speopletouchingwhat’smine.”
“Please.
I’msorry.I—ohGod.”Heletoutapainedsob.
Thesharpsmellofurinefilledtheair.
Oh,forfuck’ssake.
Thatwasacustom-madeleatherchair.
Mybackteethclenched,butaglanceattheclocktoldmeIneededtowrapthisup.
“I’minagoodmood,soI’llleaveyourhandintact.”Icould’vestretchedoursessionoutforanotherhour,butitwastaconightwithStella,andIneededtobuytheingredientsonmywayhome.
“Butifyouevertouch,lookat,orsomuchasthink
aboutStellaagain…”Ishovedthebladeinallthewayuntiltheonlyremainingvisiblepartwasthehandle.Frankhadlosthisvoicefromscreamingandcouldonlychokeoutapainedsob.“Yourhandwon’tbetheonlythingI’llchopoff.”
Istraightened,thenpaused.
“Ah,Iforgotyouwantedtotrythewhiskey.”Ipickeduphisglassandtiltedit.ThecontentsdrippedontohisravagedhanduntiltheglasswasemptyandFrank’srenewedscreamsbouncedoffthewalls.
Hmm.Guesshehassomevoiceleftinhimafterall.
Therewasnothinglikeabitofalcoholonanopenwoundtodrivehomethepain.
“Don’tworryaboutreimbursingmeforthewastedalcohol,”Isaid.“I’lltakeitoutofyouraccount.ArgentBank,accountnumber904058891314,routingnumber087945660,correct?”
Hestaredatme,hiseyesswollenwithtearsandglassywithpain.
“I’lltakethatasayes.”Ipattedhischeek.“Let’skeepthisbetweenus,shallwe?I’dhateforustohaveanotherchat.”
ImadeithalfwaytothedoorbeforeIstopped.AmentalimageofthefuckergrabbingStella’sassflashedthroughmymind,andtherageresurfaced,churninglikeicyblackwavesbeneathmyskin.
“Ichangedmymind.”Iturned.“I’mnotinagoodmoodafterall.”
Thegunshotrippedthroughtheair.Frankslumpedontothedeskwithaholeinthebackofhisheadandopen,lifelesseyes.
Ituckedthegunbackintomyjacketandexitedintothehall,whereKageloungedagainstthewall.
“Don’ttellmeyoushothim,”hesaidwhenhesawme.Theofficewassoundproofed,buthecorrectlyassessedmyexpression.“Whatafuckingmess.”
“Hepissedmeoff.”Icheckedmywatch.Dammit.
TheonlygrocerystorethatsoldStella’sfavoritesalsaclosedinfifteenminutes.“Cleanthatupforme,willyou?”
“Ialwaysdo,”hesaiddryly.
NoteveryoneatHarperSecurityknewaboutthelesslegalsideofthebusiness,butKagehadseenenoughshitinhislifetokeephismoralsflexible.Theworldwasn’tblackandwhite;nooneknewthatbetterthansomeonewho’dlivedinthegray.
IwashedmyhandsinthebathroomonmywayoutandinspectedmyclothesforanyspecksofbloodbeforeIgunnedittothegrocerystore.36
STELLA
“That’sallIneeded.
Thankyouforyourtime,”Juliansaid
We’djustfinishedourlastinterviewformyWashingtonWeekly
profile.We’dhadaseriesofconversationsthemedarounddifferentaspectsofmylifeoverthepastfewweeks,andtoday,we’ddiscussedmyfashionlineforagoodfifteenminutesafterImentioneditinpassing.
ItwasofftherecordsinceDelamontewouldn’tappreciatemetalkingaboutmyownbrandinastorythatwassupposedtobeaboutthem,butIwasexcitedtodiscussitwithsomeonewhowasn’tChristianormyfriends.Itmadeitmorereal.
“Ofcourse.Letmeknowifyouhaveanyadditionalquestions,”Isaidwarmly.
“Iwill,andI’llemailyouwhenthestoryislive.Congratulationsagainoneverything.”
Ihungupandstretchedwithayawn.Itwaslateafternoon,butIfeltlikeI’dbeenupfortwenty-fourhoursstraight.I’dfinishedallthesamplesformycollectionlastweekandhadspentthedaytakingphotosofthemforfuturemarketingmaterials.
Iwasusedtophotoshoots,butIhadn’trealizedhowmuchharderitwastotakeproductphotosforawebsiteversusablog.
Piecesfromtheshootwerescatteredallovertheroom,includingprops,clothing,andcameraequipment.
IforcedmyselfoffthecouchsoIcouldtidyupthemessbeforeChristiancamehome.
Ourdinnersweremyfavoritepartoftheday.Healwayscamehomeearlyenoughtohelpwiththecooking(thoughIsuspectedthatwaspartlybecausehedidn’ttrustmeneartheovenafterthesmokealarmincident),andwespentthenightsunwindingandtalking.
Ilikedfancydatesandgalasasmuchasthenextgirl,butnothingmademehappierthansimplyspendingtimewithsomeoneI—
“SorryI’mlate.”
IstraightenedandlitupwhenChristianwalkedin.
Ifinallyunderstoodwhymyfriendsgushedovertheirsignificantothers.EverytimeIsawhimorheardhisvoice,thebutterflieswentcrazy.
“Ihadtogetmoresalsa.”Hekissedmeandplacedhisshoppingbagonthecoffeetable.
Ibrightenedfurther.
“IsthatthebrandthatIlike?”Irecognizedthenamestampedonthebag.Itwastheonlygrocerystoreinthecitythatcarriedmyfavoritesalsa.
“Yes.”Christian’smouthtippedupwhenIsquealedandpeekedinsidethebag.Thegrocerystorewasontheothersideofthecity,soIrarelymadeitoutthereeventhoughitstockedsomeofmymostloved,hard-to-finditems.
Thesightofthetwoglassjarsmademeinordinatelyhappy.Itwasn’tthesalsaperse;itwasthefactthathe’dgoneoutofhiswaytobuythemforme.
“Congrats,youjustwontheBoyfriendoftheWeekaward.”
“DidI?”HeplacedhishandsonmyhipswhileIloopedmyarmsaroundhisneck.“What’smyreward?”
“This.”Igavehimanother,longerkissandsmiledathissoftgroan.
ItwasonlywhenIranmyhanddownhisbackthatInoticedthetensionbunchinghismuscles.
Ipulledbackandexaminedhimwithasmallfrown.“Iseverythingokay?Youseemtense.”
“Yes.”Christian’sexpressiondidn’tflicker.“Justaminorirritationatwork.”
“Hmm.”Iworriedabouthimsometimes.Hehadanimportantjob,butallthatstresswasn’tgoodforanyone.
Despitemybesteffortstoconvincehim,healsorefusedtotakeupyogaormeditation.
Anideasparkedinmyhead.ItwassooutofcharacterIalmostdismisseditoutofhand,butIwasanew,bolderme.Icouldtrynewthings.
Maybe
“Sitonthecouch.”Itampeddowntheuprisingofnervesinmystomachandkeptmyvoicecasual.“Icanthinkofsomethingthat’llhelpyourelax.”
ChristiandidasIasked.
“Anothermassage?”hedrawled,buthiseyesdarkenedwhenIsankontomykneesbeforehim.
“Sortof.”Ireachedforhisbelt.HishandgrippedmywristbeforeImadecontact,andtheairshiftedintosomethingheavier,morecondensed.
“What,”hesaid,hisvoicedroppingtoaroughpitchthatmademythighsclench.“Areyoudoing?”
“Itoldyou.”Ipulledmywristfreefromhisgraspandunbuckledhisbelt,myheartflutteringlikeanervoushummingbird’s.“I’mhelpingyourelax.”
ChristianandItookturnsinitiatingsex,butI’dneverbeensoboldaboutit.
Usually,allittookwasacertainlookorsmilefrommeandhegotthehint.Butthis…thiswaswayoutsidemycomfortzone.
Hedidn’tstopmeagain,buttheheatofhisgazesettledlowinmystomach.
MymouthdriedwhenIfinallyworkedhimfreeofhispants.
Hewasalreadyhard,hisarousalthickanddrippingwithpre-cum.HeletmesetthepaceasIslowlytookhimdownmythroat,buthewassobigIhadtopauseeveryfewsecondstoadjust.
Eventually,however,Itookhimtothehiltandstayedthereforaminutewithmylipsstretchedwideagainstthebaseofhisshaft.
IhummedwithpridebeforeIstartedmoving.Slowlyatfirst,thenfasterasIgotmorecomfortablewithhissizeandtheangle.
ChristianletoutalowcurseandtangledhishandsinmyhairwhenIsettledintoarhythm,lickingandsuckinguntilhismusclestightenedbeneathmytouch.IflattenedmytongueandranitalongtheundersideofhiscockasIwithdrew,thengentlysuckedtheheadandslidhimallthewaydownmythroatagain.
Hisgriptightenedonmyhair.
“Fuck,
Stella.”Christian’storturedgroansentanotherarrowoflusttomycore.“Thatfeelssofuckinggood,sweetheart.”
Imoanedwithsatisfactionandredoubledmyefforts.Droolleakedfromthecornersofmystuffedmouthanddrippeddownmychin,butIdidn’tstop.
Theblowjobwasforhim,buteverygroanandslideofhisheatagainstmytonguepulsedbetweenmylegslikeitwasforme.
IlovedknowingthatIcouldturnhimonlikethis.ThatIcouldgiveandtakepleasureatwill.
Iwasonmyknees,butIhadthepowertobringhimtohis.
“Iknewyoucouldtakeit.Everyinch,justlikethat.”HispraisewashedovermeasIgaggedaroundthebaseofhiscock.“Goodgirl.”
Theachedeepened,andIcouldn’ttakeitanymore.IshiftedpositionssoIcouldgrindagainsthislegwhileIincreasedmypaceandsavoredthehot,erotictasteofhim.
ItwaseasierformetocomewhenIwasgrindingonsomethingversususingmyfingers,andthefirmpressureagainstmyclitmixedwiththefilthy,sloppysoundsoftheblowjobdrovemehighertowardreleasewitheachpassingsecond.
Iwasdrenchedandprobablymakingamessofhispants,butIwastoolostinafogoflusttocare.
“Icanfeelhowwetyourcuntis.”ChristianpulledmyheadbacksoIstaredstraightupathim,myeyeswateringfromtakinghimsodeepforsolong.“Doesthisturnyouon,hmm?Grindingagainstmylegwhileyouchokeonmycock?”
“Mmmph.”Mymuffledmoanofaffirmationcutoffinagaspwhenheabruptlypulledmeoffhim,pickedmeup,andpushedmeagainstthewindowinonefluidmotion.
Desirepooledbetweenmylegsatthepressofglassagainstmycheekandtheheatofhimatmyback.
Ilovedwhenhewaslikethis.
Rough.Demanding.Abeastuncaged.
Christianyankedmydressstrapsoffmyshouldersandpulledthebodicedowntobaremybreasts.
“Whenyoucome…”Heruckedtheskirtupwithhisotherhandandhookedhisfingerinthewaistbandofmyunderwear.“It’llbewithmycockinsideyourpussy,notyourthroat.”
Iheardthetearoflaceandtheunmistakableripoffoil.
Thenhewasinsideme,fuckingmesodeepandhardthelivingroomechoedwiththesoundsofmycries.
Myhandssplayedagainstthewindow,whichfoggedwithmygaspingbreaths.
Itwasmadeoftintedglasssopeoplecouldn’tseeinside,buttherewasstillsomethingsodeliciouslydirtyaboutbeingtakenagainstitwhilepeoplewentabouttheirlivesoutside,oblivioustowhatwashappeningabovetheirheads.
Christianpoundedmesavagely,withsharp,brutalthruststhatscrambledmythoughtsintonothing.
TherewasnotraceoftherefinedCEO.Nosuits,nopolitecharm,onlyhiscockfillingmeupandhishandaroundmythroatwhilehefuckedmelikeananimalfrombehind.
HislengthstretchedmyinnermusclesinatightburnasIstoodontiptoestryingtotakehimdeeper.Everyscapeofmyrock-hardnipplesagainstthecoldglasssentanothersparktotheinfernobuildingatthebaseofmyspine.
Harshbreathsandneedywhimpersmingledwiththeslapoffleshagainstfleshandthewet,slicksoundsofhiscockdrillingintome.
Thefilthysymphonyswirledaroundus,draggingmehigherandhigheruntilIcrescendoedtowardorgasm.
“Christian,please
.”Hisgriponmythroatstolemyscreamsandturnedthemintohoarsepleas.“Ineed…I’mgoingto…”
Ilosttherestofmysentencetoanotherwaveofpleasurewhenhereachedaroundtostrokemyclit.
Once.Twice.Justenoughtodeepentheache,butnotenoughtobreaktheleashonmyswellingrelease.
“Ilovewhenyoubegsosweetlyforme.”Heburiedhisfaceinmyneckandnippedattheskin.“Doyouneedtocome,hmm?”
“Yes.
”Myanswerspilledoutinasob.
“Thenbeagoodgirlandpushthatprettylittlecuntbackonme.”
Iobeyedwithoutthinking.IarchedmybacksoIcouldfuckbackathimwhilehegrippedmyhipswithbothhandsandslammedmeontohim.Brokensquealsandwhimpersfelloutasmybodyshooklikearagdoll’sfromthecombinedforceofourefforts.
“Justlikethat,”hegroaned.“Youlooksobeautifullikethis,spreadwidewithmycockburiedinsidethattightpussy.”
Electricityreplacedthebloodinmyveins.Iwaslitupfromtheinsideout,alivewireofsensationthathestokedhotterwitheverythrust.
Christian’sholdonmythroattightenedwhilehereachedaroundandpinchedmynipplewithhisotherhand.
“Comeforme,sweetheart.”
Thatwasallittook.
Myorgasmfinallybrokefree.Itcrashedthroughitsrestraintsandconsumedmewhole,sendingawaveofheatfromthetopofmyheadtothetipsofmytoes.
Mybodybowedfromtheintensityofthepleasure,andIwould’vecollapsedontothegroundhadChristiannotbeenholdingmeup.
Iwasstillfloatingonmyhighwhenheturnedmearoundandliftedmeupsomybackwasagainsttheglassandmylegshookedaroundhiswaist.
Hehadn’tcomeyet,buthisstrokesslowedintoagentlerrhythm.
“Ilovefeelingyoucomearoundme.”Hekissedhiswayupmynecktomymouth.“Youarefuckingperfect.”
Thewordshitmesomewheredeepandvulnerable.
Emotionlodgedinmythroat,butIwrappedmyarmsaroundhisneckandrodehimfaster,morecomfortablewithtakingtheleadthanexaminingthefeelingshisstatementbroughttothesurface.
Christian’sbreathsharshened.Hismuscleswenttaut,andIcouldfeelhimthrobbinginsidemebeforehefinallycamewithaloudgroan.
Weheldeachotherinthecomedown,ourskinslickwithsweatandourforeheadspressedagainsteachwhilewecaughtourbreath.
“So,”Ipanted.“Doyoufeelmorerelaxed?”
Hislaughrumbledagainstmyskinandmademesmile.Ilovedpullingareallaughoutofhim.Theyweremorecommonthesedays,buttheywerestillsourcesofpride.
“Yes,Butterfly.Ido.”
“Good.”Iclungtohimashecarriedustotheshower.
IfIwerewithanyoneelse,Ineverwould’vefoundthecouragetodowhatI’djustdone.Thefearofrejectionwould’vebeentoostrong,evenwithsomeoneIwasdating.
ButthatwasoneofmyfavoritethingsaboutChristian.IcouldbewhoIwasandwhoIaspiredtobeinequalmeasure.
IneverhadtoworrywhenIwaswithhim.37
CHRISTIAN
Mynights
withStellaweretheonlypeaceIhad.
Mydayswereatumultofworkandchaos.I’dspentthepastmonthweedingoutsuspectsforthetraitor,figuringouthowthehellsomeonecreatedadevicesimilartoScylla,whatthatsomeone’sconnectiontoStella’sstalkerwas,andtrackingdownthestalkerbastardhimself.
Ialreadyhadashortlistofsuspectsfortheleak.Everynamemademybloodruncold,butIhadtobecarefulhowIhandledthesituation.Icouldn’tmakeapublicmoveuntilIwascertainwhothetraitorwas.Loyaltyranbothways,andfalseaccusationswerethefastestwaytoseedresentmentamongtheranks.
Ihadtheperfecttrapinmind,butIneededtowaituntilHarperSecurity’sannualpokertournamenttosetit.Untilthen,Icouldn’ttrustanyoneinthecompanywithsensitiveinformation
AsforScylla,IcouldalmostguaranteeSentinelwastheonebehindtheknockoffdevice.They’dimitatedeverythingelseI’ddone;copyingproprietaryhardwarewasthelogicalnextstep.Ialsowouldn’tputitpastthemtobribeorblackmailwhoeverthetraitorwas.
Isatonthatsuspicion.First,I’lldealwiththetraitor.Then,I’llgoafterSentinel.
TheonlyremainingquestionmarkwastheirtiestoStella’sstalkerandwhothefuckerwas.
I’dcombedthroughStella’scontacts,butshe’dinteractedwithsomanypeopleovertheyearsitwasimpossibletonarrowthemdowntoadecentsuspectpool.Thestalkercouldbeanyonefromanoldcolleaguetothebaristawhomadeherdrinkeveryday.
PartofmeadmittedIcould’vegottenfurtherinall
myinvestigationshadInotbeendistracted.IwantedtospendtimewithStella,whichmeantnolonghoursorovertimeattheoffice.
Itookherondateseveryweekend,atedinnerwithhereveryevening,andfuckedherintooblivioneverynight,allthewhileknowingIshouldspendthattimedoingsomethingelse.
Stella’sabilitytofuckwithmyrationaldecision-makingcrystallizedalittleoveraweekafterFrankRivers’timelydemise.
IclickedandunclickedmypenasIstaredatthenoteonmydesk.
ThestalkerhadgoneundergroundsinceHawaii.Nonewnotesandnocontact…untilnow.
Click.Click.
Twosentences,typedanddeliveredinaplain,unmarkedenvelope.It’dbeentuckedinwiththerestofourmaileventhoughitdidn’tcontainanaddress.
Youcan’tprotecther,andyouwillNEVERhaveher.She’smine.
Whispersofragebrushedmysenses.
Themessageitselfwasn’tconcerning.Itsoundedlikesomethingapetulantchildwouldwrite.
Whatwasconcerningwerethethreephotographsthat’daccompaniedit:oneofStellagettingbreakfastatthecafeneartheMirage,oneofhertakingphotosattheNationalMall,andoneofherexitingthegrocerystore.
AllofthemhadbeentakenintheweekssincewereturnedfromHawaii.
Theragethickenedandcoatedmyskinwithfrost.IwastemptedtogiveinandtakeitoutononeofthemanynamesIkeptinmydatabaseforthatverypurpose,butIsuppressedtheurgeinfavorofcalculatingmynextmove.
Icouldn’ttrustanyoneexceptmyselfwithStella’ssafety,notevenBrock.Hewasn’toneofmysuspects,buthehadn’tnoticedthestalkergettingcloseenoughtotakethosephotosofher,whichwasabigfuckingoversight.
Granted,hisjobwasprotection,notsurveillance,butitstillpissedmeoff.
Thestalkerhadresurfacedafterweeksofradiosilence,andIbetaforensicanalysisofhisnotewouldreturnthesameresultsasitalwaysdid.
Nothing.
Whoeverhewas,hewasdamngoodatkeepinghishandscleanandsneakyenoughtogetthatclosetoStellawithoutherorBrocknoticing.
Ifanythinghappenedtoher…
Mystomachclenched.
D.C.wasn’tsafeuntilIsortedoutmyinternalmess.Icouldn’tfocusontrackingdownthestalkerifIcouldn’ttrustmymen.
Click.Click.
Imadeupmymindonthesecondclick.
Isetmypenonmydesk,tuckedthenoteandphotosinsidemyinsidejacketpocket,anddrovehome.
StellawasinthekitchenwhenIarrived.Shewassobusyblendingthatatrociouswheatgrasssmoothieshelovedandhummingalongtotheradiothatshedidn’tnoticemyentranceuntilIwrappedmyarmsaroundherfrombehindandkissedherneck.
“Christian!”Surpriseddelightfilledhervoice.“You’rehomeearly.”
“Slowdayatwork,”Ilied.
Ibreathedherin,reassuringmyselfthatshewassafeandinmyarms.Shesmelledlikesunshineandgreenflorals,andIletthescentdissolvesomeofthetensioninmymusclesbeforeIspokeagain.
“Ihadanidea.”
“Uhoh,”sheteased.“ShouldIbescared?”
“Idoubtit.It’sonyourvisionboard.”
I’dseenthelistshe’dpinnedtothecorkboardinourroom.Shesaidshe’dcreateditincollegeandneverthrewitout.
Thelistconsistedofthreethings:abrandpartnershipwithDelamonte,anextendedtripthroughItaly,andawalk-incloset.Twoofthosethreewerecrossedoff.
Stellaturnedtofacemefully.Hereyeshadwidenedwithshockandatouchofhope.
“Italy,”Iconfirmed.“Summervacation.Wecandoamonth-longtripthroughthecountry.Rome,Milan,theAmalfiCoast…”
TakingheroutoftownwastheobviousansweruntilIsortedoutthemessonmyside,andherbucketlistgavemeperfectcoverforthetrip.
Ididn’twanttotellStellaaboutthestalker’slatestnote.It’dbeendirectedatme,nother,andIdidn’twanttofreakherout.NotwhenIdidn’thaveaclearsolutionyet.
“Anothertrip?”Doubtcoloredhervoice.“ButwejustgotbackfromHawaii.”
Shewasright.We’dreturnedfromKauaionlyamonthago.Itwastoosoonforanothertrip,especiallywitheverythingIhadonmyplate.
Butthethoughtofthatassholepossiblygettinghishandsonher…
Ittookonlyoneslipup.Onedistraction,onemistake,andIcouldloseherforever.
Iforcedmylungstoexpandpastarareboutofpanic.
“Thefirsthalfdidn’tcountsinceitwasforwork,”Isaid.“Itwasbasicallyalongweekend.”
Stellashookherhead.“I’mbeginningtosuspectyoudon’tactuallyworkwhenyougointotheoffice.I’venevermetaCEOwithmorevacationtimethanyou.”
Mymouthtippedupdespitemyself.“It’sadifferenttypeofwork.”
IearnedadecentsalaryfromHarperSecurity,butthebulkofmynetworthcamefromthesecretsoftwareandhardwareIdevelopedandsoldtothehighestbidder.TherewerecertaingroupsIdidn’tdobusinesswith—terrorists,certaingovernments,andafewdistastefulindividuals.
Otherthanthat,everyoneelsewasfairgame,andtheypaidaking’sransomfortechnologytheircompetitorsdidn’thave.
IspentfiftypercentofmyofficetimerunningHarperSecurityandtheotherhalfondevelopment.
“Areyousureamonthisn’ttoolong?”Tracesofdoubtlingered.“Wecan’tjustupandleaveforthatlong.”
“I’mabillionaire.Wecandowhateverwewant.”Ismiledatherplayfuleyeroll.“Consideritmybirthdaypresent.”
“Wealreadycelebratedyourbirthday,”shepointedout.
I’dturnedthirty-fourlastweek.We’dcelebratedwithaweekendoffood,sex,andmeeatingherpussyoutuntilshecameonmyface.
It’dbeenagoodbirthday.
“Besides,itdoesn’tmakesensethatyouwouldtakemeonmy
dreamtripforyourbirthday.Weshouldgosomewhereyouwanttogo.”Stellahookedherarmsaroundmyneck.“Spillit,Harper.What’syourbucketlistdestination?”
“Don’thaveone,andspoilingyouis
forme.”Idroppedmyforeheadtohers.Thenoteandphotosburnedaholeinmypocket.“Lastchance,Butterfly.Youinoryouout?”
“Whenyouputitthatway…”Agiddysmilespreadacrossherface.“I’min.”
“Perfect.”Ikissedheragain,thistimeonthemouth.
Fuckrationality.
WhenitcametoStella’ssafety,rationalthoughtdidn’texist.38
STELLA
June
16
I’MGOINGTOITALY!
Okay,IjusthadtogetthatoffmychestbecauseIstillcan’tbelieveit.I’vewantedtovisitforsolong,butIkeptputtingitoffbecauseIdidn’twanttogoforjustaweek.IwantedtodothewholeshebanglikeChristiansaid.Venice,Rome,Positano…Ineverfoundthetimeormoney,butnow,hereIam,packingforamonth-longtrip.
Ican’twait.I’vealreadymessagedBridgetforalistofhermust-sees.IknowChristianhasvisitedItalytonsoftimesbeforetoo,buthe’saguy.It’snotthesame.(PlusBridgetknowsallthecutestcafesandbestboutiques).
ItdoesmakemeabituncomfortablethatI’mspendingsomuchofhismoney.ItoldJulesthistheotherday,andshetoldmenottoworryaboutitbecauseChristianhassomuchmoneythattheamounthe’sspentonmeispenniestohim.Iguessthat’strue.
EverytimeItrytopayforsomething,herefusesandsaysIshouldinvestthatmoneyintomybrandinstead.That’stheonethingIdrewalineat.Ididn’twanthimthrowingmoneyattheline.IfIdoit,Iwanttodoitonmyownmerits.Idon’twanttosucceedjustbecauseIhavearichboyfriendwhocanbankrollme.
But,ifI’mbeing100%honest,it’shardformetoprotesttoomuchaboutthetripbecauseIwantitsomuch.
Anall-expenses-paidtriptoItaly?That’severygirl’sdream.
DailyGratitude:
Bucketlists
Italy
Thebestboyfriendintheworld<3
***
Italywas
asincredibleasI’dimagined.Thefood,thebeauty,theculture…everythingliveduptomyexpectationsandmore.
Granted,partofthathadtodowithChristiangettingusVIPaccesseverywheresowecouldavoidthecrowdsandexploreatourleisure,butitwasn’tjustthat.Therewassomethingmagicalintheairthatmeltedmystressandturnedmyworriesintodistantmemories.
UnlikeHawaii,whichhadaworkelementdespitethedreamysecondhalfofthetrip,Italywaspureescapism.
Itookvideosandphotos,buttheywereformemoriesmorethanforsocialmedia.
Icouldn’tsharethatIwascurrentlyinItaly,anyway,soI’dbeenpostingoldphotos.
Otherthanthat,therewasnowork,nocameras,justus.
InItaly,Iwasn’tabrandambassadororacontentcreatorchasingtheperfectphoto.Iwasjustagirlonvacationwithherboyfriend.
Itwasliberating…when
saidboyfriendwasn’tbeingajerkaboutmydrivingskills.
“It’saVespa.Howhardcanitbe?”IplantedmyhandsonmyhipsandleveledChristianwithaninsultedglare.
“I’mnotsayingit’shard.I’msayingtherearealotofpedestriansyoucanrunoverinthecity.”Hismouthtwitchedatmygasp.
“Iamnot
goingtorunoveranyone.Ihavezerovehiculardeathsonmywatch,thankyouverymuch.”
“Whataboutneardeaths?”
Ididn’tdignifythatwitharesponse.
ItwasourfirstfulldayinRomeandoursecondweekinItaly.We’dflownintoMilan,madeourwaydowntoFlorence,andarrivedinRomeyesterdayevening.
Wehadafulldayofactivitiesaheadofus,andI’dinsistedonusingVespastogetaround.
Itmightbecliche,butcouldonesaythey’vevisitedRomewithoutridingaVespaatleastonce?
Unfortunately,ChristianandIhaddifferentopinionsonhowmanyweshouldrent.IthoughtitwouldbefunifweeachhadourownwhilehewasconvincedIwouldkillsomeoneiflefttomyowndevices.
Apparently,hewasn’tovertheATVincidentinHawaii.Ithadn’tbeenmyfault;I’dmerelybeenrusty.IrarelyneededtodriveacarinD.C.whentheMetroandbuseswererightthere.
HesighedwhenhesawIwasn’tbackingdown.
“Let’scompromise.Youletmeteachyouhowtooperateone,andifyoupassthetest,youcangetyourown.”
“Whatisthis,theDMV?”Igrumbled,butIagreed.
Secretly,Iwasgladhe’dofferedtoteachmebecauseIhadnocluehowtooperateaVespa.Itcouldn’tbethatdifferentfromridingabicycle,right?Theonlydifferencewasithadanengine.
We’drentedourscootersfromourhotel,andwestayedinthecourtyardwhileChristianwalkedmethroughtheproperprocedure.
“Sitstraighterandbendyourelbowsalittle…alittlemore.Likethis.”ChristianadjustedmypositionuntilIsatproperlyontheVespa.“Nowfindyourbalancebyshiftingyourbodytotheleftandtheright.”
Ifollowedhisinstructionsuntilhedeclaredmereadyforthetest.
“Don’tlooksonervous,”Isaidashetightenedmyhelmet.“I’llbefine
.I’mliterallydrivingaroundthecourtyard.”
“Hmm.”
Ididnotappreciatetheamountofskepticismimbuedinthatonenoise.
Iswitchedonthebikeandspedoff.
See?Thiswasn’tsobad.Iwasdoinggreat.Thecobblestoneswerealittle
hardtonavigate,butIcould—
“Shit!”
I’dturnedtoolateandsideswipedoneofthegiantflowerpotsborderingthehotel’soutdoorcafe.
IstutteredtoastopandcutofftheenginewhileChristiancameupbesideme.
Westaredatthegiantcrackintheterracottaurn.Luckily,itwassoearlythecafehadn’topenedyet,butthegardenerworkingnearbysawthewholething.
Heshookhishead.IthoughtIheardafaintmioDio
beforehereturnedtohispruningduties.
IgotofftheVespaandwordlesslyhandedChristianthekeys.
Mytiny
littleVespaincidentaside,ourRomestopwentassmoothlyaspossibleuntiloursecondtolastday,whenChristianandIvisitedoneofthecity’stopartmuseums.
I’dbeenhesitantaboutputtingsomanymuseumsonouritinerarysincehewasn’tanartfanatall,buthe’dinsistedwegotoasmanyasIwanted.
We’reinItaly,Butterfly.Youcan’tvisitItalywithoutvisitingitsmuseums.
Tohiscredit,Christianhidhisdistastewell.IfIhadn’tknownabouthisaversiontoartbeforehand,Iwould’vethoughtheenjoyed
theexhibitions.
“There’sno
waythatisaperson.”Istoppedinfrontofapaintingthat’dcaughtmyeyeandtriedtoparseoutwhat,exactly,itdepicted.“Didopticalillusionsexistintheeighteenthcentury?”
Onesecond,itlookedlikeaportraitofanobleman.Thenext,itlookedlikealuridtabledisplayoffruit.
Itwasunsettlingbutalsokindofgenius.
“Christian?”Iturnedathisoddlackofresponseandfoundhimstaringatsomethingontheotherendofthegallery.
Ifollowedhisgazetowhereayoungboystoodinthecorner.HetuggedinsistentlyonwhatIassumedwashismother’ssleeve,butthewomanwastoobusyfawningoverthepaintingsandtakingpicturestopayhimanyattention.
Theboy’schinwobbled,butinsteadofcrying,hesethisjawandglareddownthelengthofthegallery.
HiseyesmetChristian’s,whostaredbackwithwhatalmostlookedlikeasympatheticexpression.
Iplacedahandonhisarm.“Christian,”Isaid,myvoicesofter.“Areyouokay?”
Hebrokeeyecontactandturnedhisattentionbacktome.Tensionpouredoffhiminwaves,andthesetofhisshoulderswasvisiblytighterthanwhenwe’darrived.
“Yes.”Hissmiledidn’tfoolmeforasecond.“I’mfine.”
“Doyouknowhim?”Igesturedsubtlyintheboy’sdirection,butwhenIlookedagain,heandhismotherweregone.
“No.He…”Christianrubbedahandoverhisjaw.“Heremindedmeofsomeone.That’sall.”
IhadaninklingIknewwhothatsomeone
was.
“Let’sgetadrink,”Isaid.“I’veseenallIwantedtoseehere.”
Hedidn’targue.
Weleftthemuseumandmadeourwaytoanearbycafe.Tuckedonaquietsidestreetawayfromtourists,itwasblessedlyemptysaveforanoldercoupleandastunninglychicwomanwithasleekblackbob.
ChristianandItookaseatinthecorneroftheoutdoordiningarea.Theothercustomersweresofarawaywemightaswellbealone.
IwaiteduntiltheserversetourdrinksonthetableanddisappearedintothekitchenbeforeIspoke.
“Thepersonthatboyremindedyouof.Wasityou?”Ikeptmyvoicegentle.Ididn’twantChristiantofeellikeIwasambushinghim,butwe’ddatedlongenoughthatIwasn’taswaryaboutbroachinghispastasIusedtobe.
Hewasnaturallyguarded,andIunderstoodthat.Ididn’tgoaroundsharingdetailsaboutmypersonallifewithanyonewhowouldlisteneither.Butifweweregoingtomakeourrelationshipwork,heneededtofeelascomfortableopeninguptomeasIdidwithhim.
IthoughtChristianmightbrushoffmyquestionthewayhealwaysdid,buthesurprisedmewithaneventualnod.
“Beforeyouask,Iwasn’tneglectedasachild,”hesaid.“Notinthewayyouthink.Myparentsweren’tabusive.LikeIsaid,theywerethequintessentialAmericanfamily,except…”
Iwaited,notwantingtopushhim.
“Itoldyoumyfatherwasasoftwareengineer.WhatIdidn’ttellyouwaswhathemoonlightedas.”Christianleanedbackinhischair.“Haveyoueverheardoftheartthief,TheGhost?”
Myeyeswidenedwithsurpriseattheseeminglysuddenshiftintopic,butInodded.
I’dlearnedabouthiminmyartcrimeandlawclassatThayer.TheGhost,sonamedbecausehe’dstolendozensofpricelessartworkswithoutleavingatraceofevidencebehind,wasoneofthemostnotoriousartthievesofthelatetwentiethcentury.He’doperatedforalmostadecadebeforethepolicefinallycaughthimandshothimwhenhetriedtoflee.
Thedetailsofhisdeathweremurky,andthestolenartworkswereneverrecovered.
Itoldyoumyfatherwasasoftwareengineer.WhatIdidn’ttellyouwaswhathemoonlightedas.
Christian’swordsreplayedinmyhead,andmybreathcaughtinmythroat.
“Yourfather.Hewas…”
“Yes.”
Thequietwordlandedwiththeforceofanuclearbomb.
OhmyGod.
TheGhost’sidentityhadnever
beenpubliclyrevealed,notevenafterhisdeath.Nooneknewwhy,butrumorsabounded.Somesaidhehadapowerfulfamilywhopaidofftheauthorities,otherssaidhisrealpersonawassoordinarythattheauthoritieswereembarrassedtheyhadn’tcaughthimbefore.
Inthespaceoffiveseconds,Christianhadjustansweredoneofthebiggestmysteriesintheartworld.
IwasstillwrappingmyheadaroundthisexplosivenewpieceofinformationwhenChristiancontinued.
“Ironically,hewasn’tthebigartloverinthefamily.Mymotherwas.Heclaimedhestolethepaintingsasproofofhisloveforher.Hiswillingnesstoriskeverythingjusttomakeherhappy.You’dthinkshewouldtrytotalkhimoutofit,butsheencouragedit.Sometimes,sheevenjoinedhim.Shelovedthethrillandtheideathathewouldgotosuchextremesforher.TheytriedtohidewhattheyweredoingfrommewhenIwasyounger,butIeventuallycaughton.Thereweretoomanycoincidencesbetweenmyfather’smysteriousbusinesstrips
andthedatesthestolenartwerereportedonthenews.WhenIconfrontedmyfatheraboutit,heconfessed.”
Christiangavemeahardsmile.“Evenasachild,Iwasn’tthetypetosharethedirtydetailsofmylifewithanyone.Heknewhecouldtrustmenottosharehissecret.”
MychestclenchedatthethoughtofayoungChristianbeingburdenedwithsuchabigsecret.
Maybehisparentshadn’tbeenphysicallyabusive,butitsoundedliketheyhadn’tcaredabouthisemotionalormentalwell-beingatall.
“WhenIwasthirteen,hewentonanotherheist.Insteadofamuseum,hetriedtorobsomewealthybusinessman’shouse.Thebusinessmanhadfamouslyacquiredabigartpieceatauction,andmymomwasdesperatetohaveit.Myfatheralmostgotawaywithit,buthetrippedanalarmandgotcaughtonhiswayout.Herefusedtosurrender,andthepoliceshothimwhenhetriedtostealagunoffanofficerandmakeanotherrunforit.Hediedonthespot.”
“Mymomlostitwhensheheardthenews.Twodaysaftermyfatherdied,shedecidedshecouldn’tlivewithouthimandputabulletinherownhead.I’dbeenatschool.Myauntcame,calledmeintotheprincipal’soffice,andtoldme.”Another,morebittersmilecutacrossChristian’sface.“It’slikeafucked-upsuburbanversionofRomeoandJuliet.Romantic,isn’tit?”
Adeep,painfulacheunfurledbehindmyribs.
Icouldn’timaginewhatitwasliketogrowupinthefamilyhe’dgrownupin,ortolosebothparentsatsuchayoungage.Ididn’thavethebestrelationshipwithmine,butatleasttheywerealive.
“Mymotherwouldratherdiethanlivewithoutmyfather,butshewasperfectlyfineleavingheronlysonbehind.”Christian’scausticlaughsingedmylungs.“Amother’sloveisthegreatestloveofall,right?That’sbullshit.”
Theachespreadburnedbehindmyeyes.
Itentativelyreachedforhishandandcurledmineoverit.
“I’msosorry,”Isaidquietly.Ididn’tknowwhatelsetosay.
IwishedthereweremagicwordsIcouldutterthatwouldmakehimfeelbetter.Butnothingcouldchangethepast,andpeoplehadtodealwiththeirtraumaintheirowntime.
Christianhadbeenholdingontohisfordecades.Itwouldtakemorethanafewnicewordstohealit.
ThebestthingIcoulddowasbethereforhimwhenhewasfinallyreadytoconfrontit.
“I’venevertoldanyonethatbefore.”Thehauntedexpressionlingeredinhiseyesforamomentlongerbeforeitdisappeared.
“NowthatI’veruinedabeautifulItalianafternoonwithmypoorlittlesobstory,weshouldgo.”Christianrose,hisfaceanimpassivemaskonceagain.“Wehavelunchreservationsinhalfanhour.”
“Youdidn’truinit.”Isqueezedhishand.“Icaremoreaboutyouthananyfancymealormuseumouting.”
Christian’sjawflexed.Hisgazeheldmineforabrief,burningmomentbeforeheturnedaway.
“Weshouldgo,”herepeated,hisvoiceroughwithemotion.
Iletthemomentpass.Isensedhe’dreachedhislimitforpersonalintrospectiontoday.
Wepaidandleftthecafe,butwhenwenearedthemainstreet,hepaused.“Stella.”
“Hmm?”
“Thankyouforlistening.”
Theachereturnedinfullforce.“Thankyoufortellingme.”
Christianthoughthe’druinedourafternoonwhen,infact,he’dmadeit.NotbecauseIenjoyedhearingtheheartbreakingdetailsofhischildhood,butbecausehe’dfinallyletmein.
Nomorehidingbehindhiswalls.
Despitealltheluxuryhotelswe’dstayedat,thegourmetmealswe’deaten,andtheextravagantactivitieswe’ddone,thatwasthebestpartofourtripsofar.
Asdreamyasourvacationwas,IloveditnotbecauseIwasinItalybutbecauseIwasinItalywithhim
Andthatmadeallthedifferenceintheworld.39
CHRISTIAN/STELLA
CHRISTIAN
Italywasastrangedichotomyofcalmandchaos.IspentmydaysvisitinglocallandmarksandshoppingwithStellaandmynightsmonitoringthesituationinD.C.aftershefellasleep.
I’dcalledinafavorandaskedAlextokeepaneyeonthingsformewhileIwasgone.Hedidn’thaveanyunusualupdatesforme,butIremainedonedge.MyguttoldmesomethingwasbrewingonthehorizonandthatIdamnwellwouldn’tlikewhatitwas.
UntilIhadaclearerpictureofwhatIwasupagainst,however,therewasnothingIcoulddo.
IpushedthoughtsofD.C.outofmymindasStellaandIwalkeddownawindingstreetinPositano.Itwasnearingsunset,andpastelspaintedtheskyinasoftpaletteofpinks,purples,andoranges.
WewereinweekthreeofourItalytrip,andwe’dleftthecitiesbehindfortheseasidecharmoftheAmalfiCoast.We’dwoundourwaythroughSalernoandRavelloandarrivedinPositanoyesterday.NextwasSorrento,followedbyourlaststopinCapri.
AsmileplayedonmymouthasStellatippedherheadbackwithadreamyexpression.
Shewasalwaysbeautiful,butinItaly,freedfromthepressuresofthecityandthelurkingthreatofherstalker,shewasadifferentperson.Happier,moreplayfulandcarefree,evencomparedtoHawaii.
Itwinedmyfingersthroughherswhenweresumedwalkingtowardaviewpointforsunset.Inormallyhatedhand-holding,butIcouldmaketheoccasionalexception.Wewereonvacation,afterall
“So,doesItalyliveuptoyourexpectations?”Iasked.
“Nope.”Animpishsmileappearedatmyraisedbrow.“It’sexceededthem.Thisplaceis…”Shesighed.“Incredible
.Imean,lookatit.”
Mysmileblossomedintoagrinwhenshereleasedmyhandandtwirled.Herwhitedressflaredaroundherthighs,andthesettingsungildedherskinwithgold.
ShelookedsocontentandatpeaceIwishedIcouldkeepushereforever,ensconcedinabubbleanduntouchedbythedangersthatlurkedbackhome.
“I’dratherlookatyou,”Isaid.
Stellastoppedinfrontofme,breathlessfromherspin.Hergazelockedontomine,andthesummerairgrewheavierbetweenus,sweetwiththescentsoflemonverbenaandsunshine.
“Forsomeonewhoclaimshe’snotaromantic,yousaythemostromanticthings.”Shepluckedapetalfromanearbyfloweringtreeandtuckeditintothepocketofmylinenshirt.“I’montoyou,ChristianHarper.Beneaththathard,cynicalexterior…”Shepressedherhandflatagainstmychest.“You’reasoftieatheart.”
Iwould’velaughedhadshenotbeenhalfright.
Onlyforyou.
Iliftedherhandandcurledmineprotectivelyaroundit.
“Ifyoutellanyone,I’llhavetokillthem.”Ismiledtosoftenthestatement,eventhoughIwasn’tjoking.
Inmyworld,weaknesswasunacceptable,andshewasthegreatestweaknessIhad.
Stellagavemeanexasperatedlook.“Youalwayshavetobringdeathintoit.”
Ilaughed.
Wecontinuedwalkinguntilwereachedtheviewpoint.Nestledhighinthehillsandhiddenfromtouristtraffic,itofferedaperfectviewofthepastelbuildingsanddeepblueseabelow.
Stellarestedherheadonmyshoulderandstareddreamilyatthelandscape.“I’minlovewiththisplace.”
Iwrappedanarmaroundherwaistanddrewhercloser.Myeyeslingeredonthedelicatelinesofherprofile,tracingapathfromthestraydarkcurlsbillowingaroundherfacetothesparkleinhereyesandthecurveofherlips.
Ididn’tcaremuchforart,butifIcouldimmortalizeherinthatmomentasapainting,Iwould.
Thesettingsuncastagorgeousglowovertheisland,butIdidn’tbotherlookingattheview.IkeptmygazeonStella.
“Metoo.”
***
STELLA
MyrelationshipwithChristiancouldbemeasuredinincrementalshifts.ItstartedwithmymoveintotheMirageandinchedforwardmilestonebymilestone—ouralmostkiss,hisconfession,dinnerwithmyfamily,Hawaii,ourrealkiss,andamillionothermomentsthattransformedusfromstrangerstosomethingsomuchmore.
ButourtimeinItaly,especiallyafterwhathesharedabouthisfamily,feltlikemorethananincrementalshift.
Itfeltlikeaturningpoint.
Perhapstheturningpointshould’vebeenourfirsttimehavingsexorwhenwe’dagreedtoofficiallydate,butChristianhadneversharedasmuchabouthimselfashehadinRome.Andithadn’tbeenjustanything;it’dbeenafundamentalpartofhisupbringing,somethingthat’dshapedhimintowhohewastoday.
He’dfinallyopenedup.Hispastwasuglyandmessy,butitwasreal,andthatwasallIcouldaskfor.
IturnedmyheadandwatchedChristianadjustsomethingontheboat’sinstrumentpanel.
I’dseenhimcaptainaboatbeforeinHawaii,butthat’dbeeninthedark.Inthesunlight,wearingnothingbutblackTomFordswimshortsandmilesofbronzedskin,helookedlikeaGreekgodcomedownfromMountOlympus.
“Youshouldcaptainaboatmoreoften.”Istretched,luxuriatinginthesunshine.“It’ssexy.”
ItwassomethingIwould’vecringedatsayingtoanyoneelse,butIdidn’thavetoworrywhenIwaswithChristian.Icouldsayanythingandhewouldn’tjudgeorlaughatme.
Hiseyesglowedwithamusement.“Goodtoknow.”Therich,slightlyhuskytimbreofhisvoicesentadeliciousthrilldownmyspine.
WewerecurrentlyanchoredoffthecoastofCapri,ourlaststopinItaly.
Therewasnoonearoundexceptus,agentlebreeze,andthefaintscentofcoconutsunscreenandsalt-tingedseaair.Theisland’sfamousFaraglionirocksloomedinthedistancelikemountainoussentriesemergingfromthedeepbluedepthsoftheTyrrhenianSea,andthegentlerockingoftheboatlentadream-likequalitytothescene.
Infact,theentirepastmonthhadbeenadream,andIwasscaredIwouldwakeupandfindoutit’dallbeenafigmentofmyimagination.
Therewasmagicinreality,nomatterhowtemporary.
“You’reoverthinkingagain.”ChristiancouldalwaystellwhenIspiraleddownthedarkpathsofmymind.
“Ican’thelpit,”Iadmitted.“It’smydefaultsetting.”
Hesettledbesidemeandwrappedamusculararmaroundmywaist.“Whatareyouthinkingabout?”
“Abouthowthisdoesn’tfeelreal,”Isaidsoftly.“It’stoogoodtobetrue.”
Everytimesomethinggoodhappenedtome,somethingterriblelurkedinthewings,waitingtodragmedownfrommyhigh.
MyrelationshipwithChristianhadbeenperfectsofar,butapartofmewaswaitingforthatinevitablecrash.
“Itisreal.”Hepressedhismouthtothebaseofmythroat.“Andifitisn’t,I’llfindawaytomakeitreal.”Hiskissesburnedapathupmynecktomymouth.“There’snothingIwouldn’tdoforyou,Stella.”
MyheartexpandedsofastandfullIthoughtitmightexplode.
“Iknow,”Iwhispered.
Christianpressedalightkissonmymouthbeforeheslidahandovermyhip.“Good.Now…”Hehookedafingerinthestringofmybikini.“Let’squietthatoveractivemindofyours,shallwe?”
Theairshifted.Heatdrownedthesoftemotionfromamomentago,andsuddenly,myflushedskinhadnothingtodowiththesunblazingoverhead.
Iarchedaneyebrowinanattempttoplayitcool.“Howdoyouproposewedothat?”
Hiswickedsmilecurledlikeasensualwispofsmokeinmystomach.“There’splentyofropeontheboat,Butterfly.”
Thesuggestionthrobbedwithpainfulinsistencebetweenmythighs.HeknewIlikedbeingtiedup,but…
“Here?”Isqueaked.
Wewereinthewide-opensea.Therewasnooneelsearound,butsomeonecould
comealongatanymoment.
“Noonewillseeus.Ipromise.”Christianwatchedmecarefully,hiseyeslikepoolsofgolden-dippedamberinthesunlight.“Doyoutrustme?”
Mypulseflutteredwithnerves,butafteralong,hesitantsecond,Inodded
Ifhesaidnoonewouldseeus,noonewouldseeus.
IwouldnevertellhimbecauseIdidn’twanttoinflatehisegotoJupiter-sizeproportions,butIwasconvincedChristiancouldbringdownthestarsifhewanted.
MyreservationsmeltedwhenIfeltthefirstbiteoftheropearoundmywrists.I’dtakenmybikinioffathisorders,andIlayfaceuponthecushionedseatattheendoftheboatwhileheboundmywriststogetherabovemyhead.
Thetightertheties,thewetterIgot.
Iusedtofeelashamedorembarrassedaboutmysexualproclivities,butbeingwithChristianhadputmostofmyworriestorest.HenevermademefeelbadaboutwhatIwantedinbed.Hepushedmeoutofmycomfortzoneandembracedmyfantasiessothoroughlytheyfeltnormal—whichtheywere
,accordingtomyonlineresearch,buttherewasadifferencebetweenknowingsomethingandfeelingit.
Still,mybodytightenedwithsurprisewhenIsawthesilkscarfinhishands.
“Ifyouwantmetotakeitoff,tellme,”Christiansaid.
“Okay.”Myvoicepitchedhigherthanusual.
I’dneverbeenblindfoldedduringsex.Thethoughtofnotseeingtheworldaroundmemademystomachflip,butmytensioneasedwhenhetiedthescarfaroundmyeyes.
Thehintofsunlightfilteringthroughthethinsilkwasenoughtohelpmerelax.
Iwaited.
Andwaited.
IheardChristianmovingaroundtheboat,buthedidn’ttouchme.
Intheabsenceofvisualstimulation,allmythoughtsturnedtohowvulnerableIwasatthatmoment.Myhandstied,myeyescovered,mybodynakedandbaredtohisgaze.
Hecoulddoanythinghewantedtome
Anticipationshiveredovermyskin.
Iheardasoftclink
andthenearingoffootsteps.
Mymusclespulledtaut,waitingfor—
Asoftnoiseofsurpriseescapedwhensomethingcoldpressedbetweenmybreasts.
Anicecube.
Itdidn’ttouchmynipples,buttheyimmediatelyhardenedfromtheproximatechill.Theypokedagainstmybikinitop,sosensitivethefrictionsentatinglestraighttomycore.
“It’sahotday,”Christiansaidlazily.“Weneedtocoolyouoffbeforewegetstarted.”
Mybreathsturnedintopantswhenhedraggedtheicecubedowntomystomach,thenupagain,overandoveruntilitmeltedagainstmyskin.
Iheardanotherclink,
followedbytheglideofanothericecubeovermynipple.
Shiverseruptedallover.
Mynipplesweren’tjusthardanymore;theywerealmostpainfulwithneedashecircledthemwiththecubeandrubbeditoverthefirmpeaks.
JustwhenIcouldn’ttakeitanymore,whenthepleasureandpainformedanunbearableburn,thewetwarmthofChristian’smouthreplacedthecold.
Thesuddenchangeintemperaturesentshockwavesthroughmybody.
“Christian,
”Igasped.“OhGod.”
Itwasn’tjusttheice,thetightbindingsonmywrists,orthewayItuggedandtwistedthatmadeeverythingfeelimpossiblyerotic.Itwastheplaybetweenhotandcold,theheighteningofmysensesduetotheblindfold,andthewayhetookhistimepleasuringeveryinchofmybody.
Myneck,mybreasts,mystomach…bythetimehemovedbetweenmylegs,Iwasalreadyawet,slickmessfrombothmyarousalandmeltedice.
Anoisebetweenagaspandayelpclimbedupmythroatwhenherubbedawarmedcubeovermyswollenclit.
“YouhavetheprettiestcuntI’veeverseen.”Christiangroaned.“Openwiderforme,sweetheart.”
Ispreadmylegsfarther,andhepushedtheiceinsidemeatthesametimehesuckedmyclitintomymouth.
Oneicecube.Oneflickofhistongue.Onereachofhishanduptopinchmynipple.
Thatwasallittook.
Mymouthpartedinasilentcryasmyorgasmexplodedbehindmyeyesandtraveleddownmybodyinelectricwaves.Itwaslikethesensationsweresointensetheysnatchedawaymyabilitytoscream,gasp,ordoanythingelseexceptburninafiresohotIdisintegratedrightthenandthereonthedeckoftheboat.
Nothoughts,nowords,justabonelessheapofpleasure.
Theorgasmwentonseeminglyforever,butwhenitfinallysubsided,soundrushedbackinadeafeningwave.
Isankdeeperintothecushion,mychestheavingwithraggedbreaths.
IwassodazedIdidn’thearChristianswitchingpositionsuntilhehikedmylegsupontohisshoulders.
“Youlooksobeautifultiedupandblindfolded.”Thetipofhiscockbrushedagainstmystillsensitivesexashisvoiceroughened.“There’snoonearound,Stella.IcanmakeyouscreamasloudasIwant.Fuckyouashardasyourpussycantakeituntilyoucomeallovermycock.”
Aneedywhimperleftme.
I’djustcome,butIneeded
himinsideme.
Ilovedwhenheusedhisfingersandmouth,buttherewasnothingbetterthanthesensationofChristianstretchingandfillingme.
Themostintimatepartofhiminthedeepestpartofme.
Nothingelsecompared.
“Youlikethat,don’tyou?”hetaunted.“Theideaofmewreckingthattightlittlecuntwhileyou’rehelplessandbound?”
“Yes
.Please,”Ibegged.“Fuckme.”
Anothergroan.
Apause.
AndthenaslamofhiscockinsidemeashefuckedmelikeI’dasked.
No,notfucked—heravagedme,turningmeinsideoutwithhistouchandhiswords.
MybodywasbentpracticallydoublewithmyanklesbymyearsandmyhandstiedtogetherabovemyheadwhileChristianpoundedintome.
Brutally.Mercilessly.Perfectly.
Everythrustsentmeslidingtowardtheedgeoftheseat,andmyworlddevolvedintoahazeofsex,sweat,andheat.
Theblindfoldmadeeverythingtwiceasintense—thesensitivityofmyskin,thefeelingofhiscockinsideme,thesoundsofsquealsandbrokenwhimpersmixedwithhisgruntsandtheobsceneslapoffleshagainstflesh.
Icravedreleaseyetneverwantedittoend.
Christian’shandstightenedaroundmyanklesashebentovermeandforcedmylegsfurtherback.
Iwasflexibleenoughthattheangledidn’thurt.However,itallowedhimtoslidedeeperthanhe’devergonebefore,andIcouldn’tholdbackagaspatthenewsensation.
Theacheinmycenterbuilttoanexcruciatinglevel.
“Sotight.Sowet.Somine
.”Athrillwentthroughmeatthedarkpossessivenessinhisvoice.“Comeforme,Stella.”
Hestayedburiedinsidemewhilehereachedonehanddowntopinchmyclit.
Thistime,myscreamsechoedinthesultryairasmybodyshookfromtheforceofmyclimax.Icamesohardtearssprungtomyeyesandleakeddownmycheeksfrombehindtheblindfold.
“Goodgirl.”
Christiankissedthetearsawayandslowedhisthrusts,drawingoutmyreleaseuntilhewrungeverydropofpleasurefromme.
ItwasonlywhenIwentlimpwithpleasurethathe,too,camewithaloudgroan.
Welaythereforawhile,pantingandblissedout.Whenourbreathsfinallyslowed,heeasedoffmeandremovedtheblindfold.
Theworldburstintocoloragain,andIblinkedafewtimestoadjusttothelight.
“Ihopethathelpedwithyouroverthinking.”Christianuntiedmyhands,hiscasualstatementatoddswiththesavagerywithwhichhe’djustfuckedme.
Hesmoothedgentlefingersoverwheretheropehadbittenintomywristsuntilthefaintburnsubsided.
“Yes.”Iletoutabreathlesslaugh.“Bestkindofcure.”
Christiancameintoview,hisskinflushedfromourmostrecentsession.Somehow,helookedevenmoregorgeousthanbefore.
Hisbrowsrosebeneathmyscrutiny.“What’swrong?”
“Nothing.”Mysmilegrew.“Absolutelynothing.”
Ididn’twanttomove,butIforcedmyselftositupandputonmyswimsuitincaseweranintootherboatslater
ChristiansankintotheseatnexttomeandwrappedanarmaroundmyshoulderswhileIsnuggledclosertohisside
Thegentlerockingoftheboat,thesoftlapofthewaves,thequiet,drowsycontentmentintheair…
Icouldn’thaveaskedforamorebeautifulafternoon.
IranalazyhandoverChristian’sabsandchest.Irarelyhadthechancetosoakhiminlikethis.Hewasalwaystheonetakingcareofme,nottheotherwayaround.
Irestedmyhandonhischestandkissedmywayalongthecurveofhisshoulder,uphisneck,andalonghisjaw.
Christianlazedstill,lettingmeexplorehimatmyleisure.
Theworldsawhimasarich,handsomeCEO,whichhewas.ButtherewasanotherlayerofChristianHarperbeneathhiscarefullycultivatedexterior.
IsawitinthewayhelookedatmelikeIwasthemostbeautifulthinghe’deverseen.
Ihearditinthewayheencouragedmeandstoodupforme.
AndIfeltitinthewayheheldmelikeheneverwantedtoletgo.
Ipressedmylipstothecornerofhismouth,myheartachingforareasonIcouldn’tname.
Rich,handsomemenwereadimeadozen,butmenwithheartslikehiswereararebreed.
Hewasn’tperfect,buthewasperfectforme.
Mylipsbrushedhisonce.Twice.
Maybeitwasthesun,thedreamylullafteramonthinItaly,ormylingeringpost-orgasmichigh.
Whateveritwas,ituncorkedahiddenbottleofcouragethatpouredontomytongueandpushedthreelittlewordsout.
“Iloveyou,”Iwhispered.
Iknewhedidn’tbelieveinlove.
Iknewtherewasastrongchancehewouldn’tsayitback.
ButIhadtotellhimanyway.
ItwastimeIstoppedholdingmyselfbackfromdoingthingsIwantedbecauseofhowpeoplemight
react.
Christian’sentirebodywentstatuestill.Evenhisbreathsseemedtohaveceased.
Iliftedmyhead.Adark,tumultuousstormbrewedinhiseyesandchargedtheairwithelectricity.
“Stella…”Hisrawvoicewrappedaroundmyheartlikeavine.“Idon’tdeserveyourlove.”
“Youdeserveitmorethananyone.”Hisheartbeatthunderedbeneathmyhand.“I’mnotexpectingyoutosayitbackrightnow.ButIwantedyoutoknow.”
Christian’schestroseandfellwithraggedbreaths.Hecurledhishandaroundthebackofmyneckandpressedhisforeheadtomine.
“ThedayImetyou,”hesaid.“Wastheluckiestdayofmylife.You’vealwaysbeenthebrightestpartofmyworld,Butterfly.Andyoualwayswillbe.”
Thedepthofemotioninhiswordsstungmyeyes.“Youdon’tstrikemeasaguywhobelievesinluck.”
“Ibelieveineverythingwhenitcomestoyou.”
Includinglove.
Theimplicationresonatedinthetimbreofhisvoiceandthewayhekissedmeagain,likehewasdrowningandIwashisonlysourceofoxygen.Vital.Precious.Loved.
Imeltedintohisembraceandletitsweepmeawaythewayitalwaysdid.
Christianhadhishang-upsabouttheLword,soIunderstoodwhyitwasdifficultforhimtosayitoutloud.
ButIdidn’tneedtohearitwhenIfelt
it.Andmyconvictioninourlovewassostrong,myhighfrommyconfessionsogreat,thattheydrownedoutthesmall,insidiousvoiceswhisperingthatthegreatestfallsalwayscameafterthegreatesthighs.40
STELLA
Sadly,
alldreamshadtoend.
OurboattripinCapriwasourlastfulldayinItalybeforeChristianandIreturnedtoD.C.withtwonewsuitcasesofgiftsandsouvenirsandmyloveconfessiontrailingbehindus.
Oldmewould’vefeltembarrassedaboutsayingthosewordsandnothearingthemback,butnew-ishme(becausetherewerestillpartsoftheoldmeinthere)wasmorecomfortablelettingthingsplayoutintheirowntime.
Thatbeingsaid,ourreturntothecitywasmorejarringafterItalythanafterHawaii.Afteramonthaway,Christianwasimmediatelysweptupinthechaosofwork,andIspentagoodweekdiggingmyselfoutoftheemails,mail,andtasksthat’dpiledupwhileweweregone.
IvisitedMaura,workedonmymarketingplan,haddrinkswithAvaandJules,andranamillionerrands.
Theadjustmenttomynormaldailylifewasharder,partlybecauseI’dbeengoneforlongerandpartlybecausetherewassomuchmore
todothistimearound.
Bythetimetheweekended,Iwastired,cranky,andindesperateneedofanextra-longrestorativeyogasession.
IdecidedtotakethatMondayslowandwasmakingmyusualmorningsmoothiewhenmyphonelitwithanincomingcall.
“Hello?”
“HiStella,thisisNorma.”
Myhandfrozeovertheblender.
NormawasoneofmyfavoritenursesatGreenfield,butshewouldn’tcalloutoftheblueunlesssomethingwaswrong.
Isetthehalfcupoficebackonthecounterandtwistedmynecklacearoundmyfinger.
“IsMauraokay?”
She’dseemedfinewhenIvisitedheryesterday,butanythingcould’vehappenedsincethen.Shecould’vehadaseizure,afall,hitherhead…
Worsecasescenariosranrampantthroughmyhead.
“She’sphysicallyokay.”Norma’ssoothingvoiceeasedsomeofmynerves.“Butshe,ah,rememberedwhathappenedtoPhoebeandHaroldthismorning.”
Justlikethat,thenervescamerushingback.“Ohno.”
Itdidn’thappenoften,butwheneverMaurarememberedherhusbandanddaughter,shegotextremelyagitated.Thelasttimethathappened,shethrewavaseatanurse.Ifshe’dbeenatfullstrength,thenursewouldbeinacomarightnow.
“LikeIsaid,she’sfinenow,”Normareassuredme.“Unfortunately,wehadtosedateher.”
Mystomachclenched.I’daskedGreenfieldtocallmewhenevertheysedatedMaura.Itwasn’tsomethingtheydidlightly.Sedationmeantshe’dhadareally
badday.
“I’llcomeoverrightnow.”IwasalreadyhalfwaytothedoorwhenNormastoppedme.
“Noneed.Iknowyouwanttoseeher,butshe’salreadysleeping,andyoujustvisitedyesterday.”Hervoicegentled.“Ionlycalledtogiveyouaheadsup.Don’tstresstoomuchaboutit,hun.Thesethingshappen,andwehaveitundercontrol.Ipromise.”
Shewasright.AsmuchasIhatedthethoughtofleavingMauraaloneaftershe’dbeensoupset,thestaffatGreenfieldwereprofessionals.Theyweretrainedtohandlesuchsituations,andtheycoulddoitfarmoreeffectivelythanIcould.
“Right.”IforcedasmileeventhoughNormacouldn’tseeme.“Thankyouforcalling.Pleaseletmeknowifthereareanyupdates.”
“Iwill.”
Ihungupandwentthroughthemotionsoffinishingbreakfast,butIwastoodistractedtotasteanything.
MaybeIshouldswingbyGreenfieldlaterjustincase…
Myphonebuzzedagain,thistimewithanewtextthatprovedthedaycould,infact,getworse.
Natalia:STELLA
Natalia:Whatthehellisthis?
AphotofrommyHawaiishootaccompaniedhertext.TheDelamonteprintcampaignhadfinallygonelivealongwithmyWashingtonWeekly
profile.Julianhaddoneagreatjobwritingitup,andLuisawasthrilled.She’demailedmeyesterdaygushingoverthepiece.
Apparently,myfamilywaslessthrilled.
Icouldseewhytheymightbeshocked.MybackwasturnedtothecamerainthephotoNataliasent,butIwasobviouslytopless.Mybikinibottomcoveredthenecessarybitsandnotaninchmore
Thecompositionwasartistic,notsleazy,butitwasstillprobablythemostscandalousthinganAlonsohadeverbeeninvolvedin.
Stella:Aphoto
Iwasn’tinthemoodtoindulgeNatalia’sdemandforanswers.
I’dknownmyfamilywouldfreakoutovertheHawaiiphotos,butIdidn’tcare.Wehadn’tspokensinceourdinneralmostthreemonthsago.Perhapsitwasprideandstubbornnesskeepingusapart,ormaybeI’dbeenrightallalong.Theycouldn’tcarelessifIwaspartofthefamilyornot.
TheonlytimetheycaredaboutwhatIwasdoingwasifIembarrassedthem.Iwasn’ttheleastbitsurprisedthatNatalia’sfirstmessagetomeinmonthsinvolvedcriticism.
Natalia:You’reNAKED
Natalia:MomandDadarefreakingout!
Stella:I’mHALFnaked.AndifMomandDadarefreakingout,theycantellmethemselves.They’readults.Theydon’tneedyouactingastheirmouthpieceallthetime.
Weweretexting,butIcouldpracticallyhearherstunnedsilence.
I’dspentmylifedoingwhatevermysisterwantedandlettingherpushmearound.Iwassickofit.
Ifmyparentshadaproblemwithme,theycouldsayittomyface.
AndifNataliahadaproblemwiththat
,shecouldshoveitupheryouknowwhat.
Thethreedotsthatindicatedshewastypingpoppedup,disappeared,thenpoppedupagain.
Natalia:Idon’tknowwhat’sgottenintoyoulately,butit’snotcute.YOU’REanadult,Stella.Actlikeone.
Natalia:Also,halfnakedisn’tmuchbetterthanfullynaked
Natalia:Dadisthechiefofstafftoacabinetsecretary.Howdoyouthinkthiswillreflectonhim?
Aggravationsunkitsclawsintomyskin.
ArguingwithNataliawaslikearguingwithabrickwall.Sheneverbackeddownortriedtoseetheotherperson’sside.Shewasalwaysright,andeveryoneelsewasalwayswrong.
Insteadoftextingback,Icalledher.
Whenshepickedup,Ididn’tgiveherachancetospeak.
“I.Don’t.Care.”Ihungupandswitchedmyphonetosilent.
WasIactinglikeabrat?Maybe.
WouldIregretmyminitantrumlater?Probably.
ButI’ddealwiththatwhenthetimecame.Fornow,shockingmysisterintosilencewasthebrightestspotofmymorning.
Still,Icouldn’tfocusonwork,soIchangedintoanoldT-shirtandshortsandturnedtotheonlythingthatmademefeelbetterwhenIwassuperstressed:deepcleaning.
Istartedinthekitchenandworkedmywaythroughthepenthouse,dustingandwipingeverycornerandcrevice.Ninacleanedonceaweek,butherlastvisithadbeenfivedaysago,sotherewasplentyformetodo.
Myfriendsthoughtitwasaweirdstressrelieftactic,butitwastheperfectmindlesslyproductivetask.Plus,everyswipeofadampcloththroughdustfeltlikeIwasclearingoutstagnantenergy,whichwasabonus.
Eventually,ImadeittoChristian’soffice.
Ihesitatedoutsidethecloseddoors
Ionlyenteredhisinnersanctumtowaterhispoorplants,whichI’dcontinuedtakingcareofevenafterImovedin.He’dofferedtohiresomeoneelsetodoit,butI’dgrownattachedtothem.
Christianwouldn’tcareifIwentinwhenhewasn’tthere,right?Hewasfinewithmegoingintowatertheplants.Ifhedidn’twantmeinthere,hewould’vetoldme
Afteranotherbeatofhesitation,Iopenedthedoors.
IspentlongerinChristian’sofficethananywhereelsesinceIwassocarefulaboutputtingeverythingbackexactlywhereitwas.
Theroomwasastudyinmonochromewithitslightgraywalls,blackleatherchair,andmassiveglassandmetaldesk.Eventheglobeinthecornerwasblackandgray.
Apparently,hewasasallergictocolorashewastoart.
“Christiandoesn’tknowityet,butwe’regoingtoaddabitoflifetoyou,”Itoldhisdesk.Itwasemptysaveforhislaptop,twoextramonitors,apaperweight,andamattegrayholdercontainingfouridenticalMontblancpens.“Eventually.”
Iwipeddownthedeskandwassobusytryingtofigureoutwhatthepaperweightwas—ajaguar?Aboar?Adeformedcat?—thatIaccidentallyknockedoverhispenholder.
Ikneltandretrievedthepens,butImiscalculatedthedistancefromthefloortothedeskandaccidentallybangedmyheadagainsttheundersideonmywayup.
“Ow!”Iwincedatthesharpburstofpain.
Maybetheplanetswereoutofalignmentbecausetodaywasnot
myday.
IwaiteduntiltheboutofdizzinesspassedbeforeIroseagain.Thistime,IslidmyhandagainstthesideofthedeskonmywayupsoIdidn’tmakethesamemistake.
ThisiswhyIcan’thaveaglassdesk.
Theyblendedalittletoo
wellintotheirsurroundings.
Myfingersbrushedagainstasmallbump,butIdidn’tpaymuchattentiontoituntilIstoodandnoticedoneofthedrawershadpoppedup.
Itlookeddifferentthantheothers.Smaller,madeofblackinsteadofgraymetal,andnestledwithinalargerdrawerfilledwithofficesupplies.
Asecretcompartment.
“OhmyGod.”Istaredatitindisbelief.
IknewChristianhadallsortsofgadgetsanddevicesathisdisposal,butasecretdrawer
?Seriously?Ithoughtthoseonlyexistedinmovies.
Ishouldcloseitandmoveon.Itprobablycontainedconfidentialinformationthatwasnoneofmybusiness,butcuriositygotthebetterofme.
Alittle
peekcouldn’thurt,right?Besides,thecontentslookedinnocuous.Theywerejustabunchofplainblackbinders.
Ipickedupthetopbinderandflippeditopen.
Itlookedlikeabunchofboringtextuntilmyeyeszeroedinonthenameatthetop.
StellaAlonso.
IblinkedtwicetomakesureIreadthatclearly,butnomatterhowlongIstared,thewordsdidn’tbudge.
Iskimmedovertherestofthepagequicklyandrealizeditwasn’tjustrandomtextaboutschoolsandbirthdaysandhobbies.Itwasaboutme.
Everythingaboutmylife—mybirthday,myfriends,myhobbiesandwhereIwenttoschoolstartingwithpre-Kgoingallthewayuptocollege—waslaidoutinblackandwhite.
WhywouldChristianhaveafileonme?Tolookintomypastsohecouldweedoutmystalker?
I’dalreadytoldhimeverythingIknew,butmaybehewasworriedI’dmissedsomething.
However,whenIflippedthroughtherestofthebinder,thatclearlywasn’tthecase.
Myentirelifewasdistilledintothesepages.Everythingfrombasicinformationlikemyparents’occupationstomyfavoritefoods,schoolextracurriculars,andmyfavoritefreakingprofessorincollege.HeevenhadalistofeverypersonI’deverdated.
I’mgoingtobesick.
Bilecoatedmythroat,butIsetthebinderdownandpickedupthesecondonewithshakinghands.
Itwasworsethanthefirst.Itcontainedfulldossiersonnotonlymebuteveryoneclosesttome,includingmyfamily,friends,Maura,andpreviousboyfriends.
Thethirdfolderhousedacollectionofmedia—mycollegegraduationphotos,aThayerChronicle
articleabouttheholidayfooddriveI’dorganized,andashotofmeattendingmyfirstfashionshowthat’dmadeitontosomeinfluencergossipsiteyearsago,tonameafew.
Thephotosandarticleswereallpublicdomain.Therewerenoprivateorcandidshots,butseeingthemtogetheralongwiththerestofmyfilesmademewanttothrowup.
Forasecond,Ithoughthemightbemystalker,butitdidn’tmakesenselogistically.IalsoknewChristianwellenoughtoknowhewouldn’tterrorizemethewaymystalkerhad.
Notwellenoughthatyouanticipatedhimhavingadossieronyourentirelife,
aninsidiousvoiceinmyheadsang.
PerhapsChristianhadagoodreasonforthefiles,butitwasstillahugeinvasionofprivacy.Hehadn’tdugintojustmylife;he’ddugintoeveryoneIknew.
He’ddoneitwithoutmyconsent,andhe’dkeptitfromme.
Howlonghadhehadthosefiles?Days?Weeks?Months?
Mystomachrebelled,andIbarelymadeittothenearestbathroombeforemybreakfastmadeamessyreappearance.
TearsstungmyeyesasIheaved.
Thistimelastweek,we’dbeenonaboatinItaly.I’dtoldhimI’dlovedhim,andhe’dkissedmelikehelovedmeback.
Sevendaysfeltlikealifetimeago—longenoughforadreamtotwistintoanightmare.
Maybeheneededthatinformationtotrackdownmystalker.Maybehewantedtomakesurenooneinmylifewasaserialkiller.Maybe…maybe…
Iwasgraspingatstraws,butallIcouldthinkaboutwasChristiansittingathisdesk,pickingthroughmylifewiththeeaseofsomeonetypinginaGooglesearch.
Evenifhewasn’tmystalker,he’dcrossedmanyofthesameboundaries.Steppedovermanyofthesamelines.
Theurgetovomitroseagain.I’dalreadythrownupallthecontentsinmystomach,soIcouldonlydryheaveintothetoilet.
Ihavetogetoutofhere.
Hewouldn’tbehomeforanotherfewhours,butIcouldn’triskhimleavingtheofficeearlyandfindingmelikethis.
Icouldn’tpretendeverythingwasokaywhenitfeltlikenothingwouldbeokayeveragain.
IforcedmyselfoffthefloorandquicklycleanedupbeforeIenteredourbedroom.AlthoughIhadatonofstuffstoredintheguestroom,I’dallbutmovedintoChristian’sroomafterHawaii.
He’dclearedoutasectionofhisclosetforme,andthesightofmyclotheshangingnexttohisfamiliardarksuitstwistedmyheartintoanexcruciatingknot.
“Itwouldn’thurtyoutowearsomethingotherthanblack,gray,andnavy,youknow.”Ilayinbed,wrappedupinthecomforterandwatchingChristiangetdressed.
Suit.Tie.Watch.Cufflinks.
Ineverthoughtwatchingaguyputoncufflinkswouldbesexy,buthemade
everythinglooksexy.
“Othercolorshurtmyeyes.”
“Iwearothercolorsallthetime.”
“That’sdifferent.Iloveeverythingyouwear.”
Mystomachflipped,andIfloppedbackonmypillowwithasigh.“It’snotfairthatyoucanendeveryargumentbysayingthingslikethat.”
Christian’slaughlingeredintheroomlongafterheleft.
Thememorypulledasmileoutofme,butitfadedwhenmycurrentrealitysankinagain.
Thebinders.Thesecrets.Theneedtogetthehelloutofherebeforehecamehome.
Icouldn’tfacehimrightnow,notwhenmyemotionsweresorawandallovertheplace.
Ineededtimetothinkandspacetoprocessaway
fromhim.
Iforcedmyeyesawayfromhissectionoftheclosetandthrewtheessentialsintoaduffelbag.Afewchangesofclothes,toiletries,andMr.Unicorn,whoIgrabbedonmywayout.
Atthelastminute,IscribbledaquicknotetoChristianandleftitonhisofficedesk.Thatandthefilesshouldbeself-explanatory.
Iwasn’treadytotalktohim,butIworriedwhathemightdoifhecamehomeandfoundmegonewithoutatrace.
IhuggedMr.UnicorntighttomychestasItooktheelevatordowntothelobby.Ididn’tcarethatIwasanadultwalkingthroughpublicwithastuffedanimal.Hewastheonlymalewho’dneverletmedown.
IknewBrockwaskeepinganeyeonmeandthathe’dalertChristiantowhereI’dgone,butI’ddealwiththatlater.
Fornow,therewasonlyoneplaceIcouldgothatwasalmostassafeasChristian’susedtobe.
“Ava?”Icalledheronmywayoutofthebuilding.Myvoicewobbled,butIrefusedtocry.Notnow,nothere.
“CanIcomeover?Something…somethinghappened.”41
CHRISTIAN
Thestalkerwentundergroundagain
duringourtriptoItaly,asexpected.ThatwaswhatIwanted;IneededhimoutofthewaywhileIsortedoutthemessinmycompany.
Alexhadn’treportedanythingsuspiciouswhileI’dbeengone,butinstincttoldmethestalkerwasplanningsomethingbiggerthanafewmeaslynotesandwantedtoflyundertheradaruntilhecouldbringittofruition.
Hisnotetomehadlikelybeenaslip-up.Anego-inducedmistakethat’dcompelledhimtoprovehewasn’tscaredofmeandthathewasn’tgoingaway.
However,IneededtoflushoutthetraitorfirstbeforeIcoulddealwithhimeffectively.
HarperSecurity’sannualpokertournamentwascomingupinafewweeks.Itwastheonetimeofyearwhenalmosteveryemployeecouldgatherinoneplaceforanightoffunandrelaxation.Theonlypeoplewhocouldn’tmakeitwerethoseonlong-termjobs,butmysuspectswouldbethere.I’dmadesureofit
IloosenedmytieasItooktheelevatoruptomyapartment.Workwasagoddamnshitshowthesedays,andmynightswithStellaweretheonlythingskeepingmesane.
Iloveyou.
Myheartthrummedatthememory.
It’dbeenaweeksinceStellaturnedmyworldupsidedown,andIwasstillreelingfromtheimpact.
I’dkepttellingmyselfIdidn’tbelieveinlove,thatwhatIfeltforherwasn’t
love,butshe’dshatteredthatillusionwithonesimplephrase.
Theminuteshe’dsaidthosewordsandlookedatmewiththosebeautifulgreeneyes,I’dknownthetruth.
Iwasinlovewithher.
It’dhappenedslowly.Bitbybit,piecebypiece,likeapuzzlebecomingwhole,untilIcouldn’tdenyorignoreitanylonger.
Ibelieveineverythingwhenitcomestoyou.
That’dbeentheclosestIcouldbringmyselftoadmittingthetruthoutloud.Oneofmyfundamentallifebeliefshadfractured,andIhadn’thadtimetoprocess.
WhenIeventuallysaidthewords,Iwantedthemtobereal.Heartfelt.
Theelevatordoorsslidopen.
Isteppedintothehallandenteredmypenthouse,butIpausedtwostepsin.Thehairsonthebackofmyneckprickledinwarning.
Astrangestillnesshungintheair.Usually,Stellawasinthelivingroomtakingphotosorworkingonhercollection.Evenifshewaselsewhere,Ifelt
herwhenIcamehome.Herwarm,calmingpresencefilledwhateverspaceshewasin.
Thatpresencewasgone,replacedwiththelemonyscentofdisinfectant.
Ninawasn’tscheduledtocomeintoday,soStellamust’vebeentheonewhocleaned.Sheonlydidthatwhenshewasparticularlystressed.
Iquickenedmystepsandcheckedherfavoriterooms.Shewasn’tinthelibrary,bedroom,orkitcheneither,norwassheontherooftopwheresheusuallydidyoga.Ididn’thaveanymissedmessagesfromher,andshedidn’tpickupwhenIcalled.
“Stella?”Icalledout.Myvoicesoundedcalmdespitemyrisingpanic.
Noanswer.
She’sfine.
Sheprobablysteppedoutforfreshairorasnack.Ifsomethingwaswrong,Brockwould’vecontactedme.
Christ,whyisitsofuckinghotinhere?
Ipushedthesleevesofmyshirtup.Theairconditioningwasonfullblast,yetIwasburningup.
Idoubledbacktothelivingroombutsawsomethingthatgavemepausealongtheway.
Myofficedoorwasopen.
Ialways
closeditbeforeIleftforwork,andStellaneverwentinthereexcepttotakecareoftheplants.Eventhen,sheclosedthedooronherwayout.
IpulledmygunfrommywaistbandandkeptitinhandasIsteppedintotheoffice.
Coldforebodingsplashedthebackofmyneck.
ThefirstthingInoticedwasthespillofpapersonmydesk,alongwiththreeplainbutdistinctiveblackbinders
ThesecondthingInoticedwasthenotepennedinherdelicate,sprawlingscript.
Weneedtotalkaboutthefiles,butI’mnotready.I’llbebackwhenIam.
Iletoutastringofcurses.
Ishouldn’thaveleftthefilessomewherewhereshecouldstumbleonthem,butI’dwantedtokeepthemcloseandcouldn’tbringmyselftothrowthemoutafteralltheseyears.
Whatifshesawthemandthought…
“Stella!”Thistime,mypanicwasaudible.
Iknewshewasn’tthere,butthatdidn’tstopmystomachfromhollowingatthesilence.
Goddammit,sweetheart,wherethehellareyou?
Iheldontothehopethatshe’dsteppedouttogatherherthoughtsandwouldbebackthatnightuntilIreenteredourbedroomandtookcloserstockofwhatwasmissing.
Herfavoriteclothes.Hertoiletries.Thatfuckingunicorn.
Mybloodroaredinmyears.
Stellawasn’tgonefortheafternoon.
Stellawasgone,period.
***
Aftermyinitial
boutofblindpanic,I’dpulledmyselftogetherandcalledBrock.UnlessStellagavehimtheslip,whichIdoubted,hehadtoknowwhereshewas.
Ittookmelessthanaminutetogetthelocationoutofhim.Shewassafe,andhe’dsimplythoughtshewasvisitingafriend.
Iwould’vetornhimanewoneforsuchanidioticassumption—whothefuckvisitedtheirfriendwithafuckingstuffedunicorn?—ifIhadn’tbeensofocusedongettingtoStellaassoonaspossible.
Ofcourse,shehadtochoosetheoneplacewhereIcouldn’teasilywaltzinanddemandtoseeher.
“Volkov!”Ibangedonthedoor.“Openthefuckingdoor!”
I’dbeenknockingandringingthedoorbellforthepastfiveminutes,andI’dusedupallmypatience.
I’ddoneplentyofAlex’sunsavorytechworkovertheyears.Ihadenoughdirtonhimtoburyhimalive,andifhedidn’tanswerwithinthenextthirtyseconds—
Thedoorfinallyswungopen.
InsteadofAlex’scoldgreeneyes,Ifoundmyselfstaringatfivefeetfiveinchesofthinlyveiledsuspicion.
“Oh.It’syou.”AfrownmarredAva’snormallyfriendlyfacewhenshesawme.“You’reinterruptingourlunch.”
“Iwanttotalktoher.”
“Idon’tknowwhoyou’retalkingabout.”
Mybackteethclenched.“Stella.
”
Ava’shandtightenedaroundthedoorknob.Shestoodsquarelyintheentrance,barringmefromentering.“She’snothere.”
“That’sfuckingbullshit.Iknowshe’shere.”Iditchedthesofterapproach.“Stepaside,Ava,orI’ll—”
“Carefulhowyoufinishthatsentence,Harper.”Alexappearedbesidehisfiancée,hiseyeslikechipsofjade-colorediceastheyrovedovermydisheveledappearance.
Loosenedtie,nojacket,hairrumpledfromthenumberoftimesI’drakedmyfingersthroughitinfrustration.
ItwasthemostunkemptI’dlookedsinceIhitdamnpuberty,butIdidn’tcare.
Ionlycaredaboutonething,andthatwasseeingStella.
Myjawflexed.“I’mnotleavinguntilIseeher.”
IglaredatAlex,whostaredbackwithaboredexpression.Hedidn’tgivetwoshitsaboutotherpeople’sdramaunlessitdirectlyinvolvedAva,butheknewhowstubbornIwas.
ImeantwhatIsaid.I’dcampoutinthedamnhallwayuntilIcouldtalktoStella.
Ijustneededtoexplain.
She’llunderstand.Shehadto.
AlexflickedaglanceatAva,whoshookherhead.“Noway.Youheardwhathedid!He—”Shestopped,obviouslyrealizingshemessedup.
TheconfirmationthatStellawasinsiderenewedmyfire.
“Stella!”Ishouted.
Desperationandsomethingheavier,moreforeignsettledinmychest.
Fear.
NotfearthatStellawasinphysicaldanger,butfearthatImightnotseeherandthatI’dloseherforever.
“Justletmetalktoyou.”Ididn’tevenknowifshecouldhearme,butIhadtotry.“I—”
“Go.Away.”Avapushedagainstmychest.Forsomeonesosmall,shewassurprisinglystrong.“Shedoesn’twanttoseeyou.”
“Guys,it’sfine.”
WeallfrozeatthesoundofStella’svoice.
MyeyessearchedoverAlex’sshoulderuntiltheyfoundher.
Shestoodinthemiddleofthelivingroom,herfacepale.Shedidn’tlookatmeasshespoketoAva.“Lethimin.”
“ButStel,whatifhe—”
“Ijustwanttogetthisoverwith,”Stellasaid.“Hewon’tdoanythingwhenyouguysarerightthere.”
Alanceofpainspearedthroughmyheart.“Iwouldneverhurtyou.”
Shedidn’tacknowledgeme.
Avareleasedthedoorknobandsteppedasidewithobviousreluctance.
IimmediatelypushedpastherandignoredherandAlex’swarningstaresasIfollowedStelladeeperintotheapartment.
She’dstartedwalkingbeforeIfullyentered,butIkeptupwithhereasilyuntilwereachedwhatmust’vebeenherroom.
Herovernightbagsatonthefloornexttotheunicorn,andherclothescoveredthebed.
Mystomachtightenedatthesight.
Theyshouldn’tbehere.Shebelongedwithme
,inmyhouse,notinherfriend’sfuckingguestroom.
Stellaclosedthedoorandfinallyfacedme.
NowthatIwascloser,Icouldseetheredrimminghereyesandcoloringhernose.ThethoughtthatIwasresponsibleforhertearsmademyheartacheinthemostpainfulway.
“Stella…”
“Don’t.”Shehuggedherarmsaroundherwaist.“Ijustwanttoknowonething.Areyouthestalker?”Hervoicewaveredonthelastword.
Iblanched.“No
.”
I’ddoneplentyofmorallyquestionableanddownrightawfulthingsinmylife,butIwouldneverterrifyherlikethat.
“Thenwhydoyouhavethosefilesonme?”Herchinwobbled.“Wemetlastyear,butthosepicturesarefromyears
ago.Theinformationonme,myfriends,myfamily…whatpossiblereasoncouldyouhavetodigthatdeep?”
Theturquoiseringweighedheavyinmypocket.AsymbolofthesecretsI’dkeptandtheliesI’dtold.
“BecausethefirsttimeIsawyouwasn’tthedayyousignedtheleaseattheMirage,”Isaid.“Itwasfiveyearsago.”
Stella’smouthpartedinshock.
Thetruthemergedinbitsandpiecesafteryearsofbeinghidden.
“IwassittingoutsideacafeinHazelburg.Youwerewalkingpastwhensomeonegrabbedyourpurseandran.”
Ihadn’tcaredaboutsuchaminortheft,butI’dbeenintriguedenoughtostayandwatchthesceneunfold.
“Irememberthatday,”Stellasaidquietly.“Itwasmysenioryearofcollege.Iwasonmywayhomefromclass.”
Inodded.“Apasserbycaughtthekid,thepolicecame,andthatshould’vebeenit.Butwhenyoufoundouthestoleyourpursebecauseheneededthemoneyforfood,yougavehimallthecashyou’dhadonhandinsteadofpressingcharges.”
“Areyousure?”
Thepoliceofficerlookedatthebrunettelikehecouldn’tbelievewhathewashearing.“Youwantto
givehimthemoney?”
“Yes.”Sheglancedatthesurlyteen.Heglaredbackather,butIspottedthetiniestglintofhopeinhiseyes.“Thecashmeansmoretohimthantome.”
“Hetriedto
stealfromyou.”TheofficersoundedasbaffledasIfelt.
Ileanedagainstanearbybuildingandscrolledthroughmyphone,butallofmyattentionwasfocusedontheinteractionplayingoutlessthantenfeetaway.
Ididn’tknowwhat’dcompelledmetostickaroundafterthekidhadbeencaught,butIwasgladIhad.
I’dbeenboredallday,butthis…thiswasinteresting.
Whythe
fuckwouldsomeonegivemoneytothepersonwho’dtriedtorobthem?
“Yes,Iknow,”thebrunettesaidpatiently.“Buthe’sjustakid,andheneedsthecash.Chargesaren’tnecessary.”
Theofficershookhishead.“It’syourmoney.”
Itunedhimoutasheclosedoutthecaseandexaminedthebrunette,fascinated.
I’dheardhergivehernamewhenthepolicefirstarrived.
StellaAlonso.
Shelookedlikeshewasinherearlytwenties,withcurlydarkhair,greeneyes,andaquick,warmsmile.Shewasgorgeous,butthatwasn’twhatenthralledme.
Itwasthegentlenesswithwhichshespoke.Theabsurdityofheraction.Theunwaveringoptimisminhereyesevenwhenanattemptedrobberyinbroaddaylightshould’veshakenherfaithinhumanity.
Thewayshe’dreactedhadn’tbeenatallwhatI’dexpected.Iftherewasonethingthatneverfailedtosparkmyinterest,itwaspeoplewhosubvertedmyexpectations.
Asmilecurvedmylipsforthefirsttimethatday.
Eventually,theofficerleftaftergivingtheteenasternwarning.Thekidlingeredlikehewantedtosaysomething.Hemust’vethoughtbetterofitbecausehesoonscamperedoffwithoutaword,notevenathankyou.
Stelladidn’tappearperturbed.
Shesimplyhikedherbaghigheronhershoulderandwalkedawaylikenothinghadhappened.
Asshedid,somethingslippedoffherhand.
Ididn’tcallafterhertoalerthertothemissingitem.Instead,IwaiteduntilshedisappearedaroundthecornerbeforeIwalkedoverandretrievedtheturquoiseringfromtheground.
Ipulled
theringoutofmypocket.Theusuallywarmstonefelticecoldinmypalm.
Stellastaredatitforasecondbeforeshesuckedinasharpbreath.
“Myring.Itwasalwaysfallingoffbecauseitwastooloose.IthoughtI…”Hereyesmetmineagain.“You’vehaditthiswholetime?”
Iswallowedhard.“Itremindedmeofyou.”
I’dkeptitasatokenofhergoodness.Areminderthat,amidstallthedeathandchaos,alightexistedsomewhereintheworld.
Somedays,thatlighthadbeentheonlythingthat’dkeptmysoulintact.
“Iwasfascinated,”Isaid.“Youwereanenigma,apuzzleIcouldn’tsolve.Ididn’tunderstandhowanyonecouldbe…good
enoughtodowhatyoudid.SoIlookedintoyourbackground.”
Icouldn’treadStella’sexpression,butshedidn’tsayanything,soIforgedon.
“Itstartedwithbasicbackgroundinformation,butitspiraleduntilitturnedintowhatyousaw.ThemoreIlearnedaboutyou,themoreIwantedtoknow.”
Notwanted.Needed
Shewasalivingcontradiction,andshe’dconsumedmythoughtsinawaynooneandnothinghadbeforeorsince.
Thefashionbloggerwhospenthoursputtingtogethertheperfectoutfitandthevolunteerwhospentherfreetimecleaninguptrashfromtheparks.
Thesocialmediastarwhowasgluedtoherphonebutwasalwaysthereforherfriends.
Theintrovertwholivedherlifeinthepubliceyeonline.
Thecalmandthechaos,thesilenceandthestorm.
Thecalmtomychaos,thesilencetomystorm.
I’dbeenobsessedwithStellaAlonsoforfiveyears,andIcouldn’tbringmyselftoregretit.
“Howlongdidthisgoon?”Stellafinallyasked,hervoicedull.
Myhandclosedaroundthering.“Almostayear.”
“Ayear.”Shepaledfurther.“Youwerestalkingmeforayear?”
“Iwasn’tstalkingyou.I…”Guiltandfrustrationknottedinmychest.“Otherthanthebackgroundinfo,everythingIknewwaspublicknowledge.”
Itwasaflimsyexcuse.
Ihadn’tfollowedherphysically,butI’dusedallthetoolsatmydisposaltodigthroughherlife.Nothingandnoonearoundherhadbeenoff-limits.
Itwasn’tstalkinginthetraditionalsense,butI’dcrossedmassiveboundaries,nonetheless.
“IstoppedwhenI…”RealizedhowattachedIwasgetting.
Eventhen,I’dknownthatStellawasadangerousdistraction,andI’dresentedtheholdshehadonme.Ithadbeenequalpartsfascinatingandfrustrating.
“Istoppedafterthat,”Ifinished.“Ididn’tdiganydeeper,andIonlyknewwhatyoupostedonline.Ihadnoideaaboutyourstalker,Greenfield,oranythingthathappenedthatyoudidn’ttalkaboutpublicly.”
Ithadtakenallmywillpowertostayawayphysically,butnomatterhowhardItriedtoforgether,Icouldn’t.
Ihadn’tspokenawordtoher,andshe’dremainedattheforefrontofmymindforyears.
Then,inastrokeofluck,herbestfriendfellinlovewithRhys,whoreferredStellatomybuilding,andtherestwashistory.
“Thatdoesn’tchangethefactthatyouliedtomethisentiretime.”Stellawrappedherarmstighteraroundherwaist.“Youletmebelievewe’dnevermetbefore.”
“Becausewehadn’t.
”“Ishouldn’thavedeceivedyou,butIcan’tchangethepast.IfI’dtoldyouwhatIdid,youwould’veleft.”
Afterwantingherforsolong,I’dfinallyhadStellaclose,andIhadn’triskeddrivingheraway.
“I’lldestroythefiles,”IsaiddesperatelywhenStellaremainedsilent.“I’llneverlookatthemagain,andwecanmoveonfromthis.”Everywordscrapedthroughmychest.
Herhumorlesslaughsingedmylungs.“Wecan’tmoveonfromthis.”
Myfrustrationmounted.Iwasn’tusedtobeingthisoutofsorts,anditwasharderthanusualtofindtherightwords.
“Whythehellnot?”
Whydidn’tsheunderstand?Whycouldn’tImakeherseethatI’dchangedinthemonthswe’dbeentogether?ThatIwasn’tthesamepersonI’dbeenwhenImadethatfile.
“Becauseitwasaninvasionofprivacy!”
sheyelled.Tearsleakeddownhercheeks.“
Youdidnot
havemypermissiontodigintomylifelikethat.Butthat’salwaysbeenourstory,hasn’tit?Youknoweverything
aboutme,andIknownothingaboutyou.Youwantotherpeopletobeanopenbookwhileyoukeepyoursclosed.Ithoughtyouweresothoughtfulandperceptivebecauseyouknewallthesethingsaboutme.Myfavoritefoods,myfavoriteflowers…butyouhadthatstupiddossierthewholetime.Wasitthateasy?Justpullupthefileandseewhatscrapyoucanthrowmywaytomakemefallforyou?”
Astrangesensationburnedbehindmyeyes.“Ihaven’tlookedatthatfileinyears.Iswear—”
“You’rethesameasmystalker.”Stella’sbreathsshallowed.“No,you’reworse,
becauseatleasttheydidn’tmakemefallinlovewithalie.”
Herwordspiercedmelikeaknifethroughmyheart.
“Iwouldneverhurtyou,”Irepeated.
“Youalreadyhave.”
Theknifetwistedharder.
“Itrustedyou,”shewhispered.“ItrustedyouwhenIbarelyknewyou.Iguessthatwasmyfault.”Herbitterlaughmademeflinch.“Youtoldmeaboutyourfamily,butIdon’tevenknowifthestoryistrue.Wasthatalsoalie?Ihavenoideawhoyouareorwhatyou’recapableof.Yourdreams,yourfears—”
“Mydreamistobewithyou.Andmybiggestfear,”Isaid,myvoicelowandraggedwithemotion.“Islosingyou.”
Asmallsobwrackedherbody.
Myheartcrackedatthesound.ItfuckingkilledmethatIwastheonecausinghertears.
Deepdown,IknewIdidn’tdeserveherforgiveness,butthatdidn’tstopmefrominstinctivelyreachingforherandwantingtocomforther.
SheshrankawaybeforeImadecontact.“Don’ttouchme.”
Ifshebroughtmetolifewiththreewords—Iloveyou
—sheslayedmewithanequalnumber.Don’ttouchme.
Everysyllabledraggedthroughmyalreadydestroyedheartlikeafreshlyhonedrazorblade,leavingnothingbutruinsbehind.
“Ican’tdothis.,”shesaid,hereyesglossywithtears.“I’llmovetherestofmystuffoutofyourapartmenttomorrow.”
Rawpanicscrapedatmyveins.
Icouldn’tloseher.Notlikethis.
IgraspedontotheonlystrawIhadleft.“It’snotsafe.Yourstalkerisstilloutthere.”
Stellasetherjaw.“Brockcanstay,butthat’sit.Ineedspace.Ican’tthinkrightnow.Ijustneed…”Shedrewinashudderingbreath.“Ineedyoutogo.“
I’dbrokenbones.Beenshotat.Gotlostinthedesertforfuckingdayswiththesunblisteringmyskin.
Noneofthathadhurtasmuchasthis.
“Don’tdothis.”Myvoicecracked.“Butterfly,please.”
Ihadneverbeggedanyoneforanything.Notwhenmyparentsdied,notwhenI’dneededstartupmoneyformycompany,andnotwhenI’dfacedimminentdeathatthehandsofapissed-offwarlord
ButIwouldgladlygetonmyfuckingkneesandbegifitmeantStellawouldstaywithme.
“Idon’twantyoukeepingtabsonmeanymore.”ShecontinuedlikeIhadn’tspoken.“NotthroughBrock,Alex,Ava,oranyoneelse.Notthroughmyblogorsocialmedia.Iknowyoucouldifyouwantedto,butI’maskingyou…”Thelastwordbrokewithunshedtears.“Toleavemealone,Christian.”
Theairwentsilentsaveforthepainfulsoundsofourbreaths.
Iwasdrowning.DrowninginemotionsI’dneverfeltbefore,indarkwatersthatsaturatedmylungsandmadereachingforthesurfaceimpossible.
Panic.Shame.Regret.
“Doyouwanttoknowanothersecret,Stella?”Myvoicewasunrecognizableinitsrawness.“Ican’tsaynotoyou.”Notwhenitcametothethingsthatmattered.“ButIwillalwaysbehereifyouneedme,nomatterhowfarindistanceortime.Idon’tcareifwe’reondifferentcontinentsorifit’sfive,fiftyyearsinthefuture.Ineverwantyoutowakeupandfeellikeyou’realonebecauseyou’renot.You’llalwayshaveme.”
Myeyesburnedasmyfinal,greatesttruthscrapedupmythroat.“Iloveyou.Sofuckingmuch.”
Ithoughtsayingthosewordsforthefirsttimewouldfeelstrange.
Theydidn’t.
Theyfeltlikethey’dbeenwaitingtofindtheirhomealltheseyearsandfounditinher.
Stellasqueezedhereyesshut.Abrokensobbledthroughherlips,butotherwise,shedidn’trespondtomyconfession.
ItwaswhatI’dexpected,butagonytwistedmygutnonetheless.
IallowedmyselftolookatheronelasttimebeforeIwalkedoutandclosedthedoorbehindme.
Therewasnothingelsetosay.
IignoredAlexandAva’scuriousstaresasIlefttheapartment,mybodynumb.Piecesofmyheartwerescatteredalloverherroom,andmymindhaddevolvedintoanendlessloopofhertears.Eventhebloodseemedtohavevanishedfrommyveins,leavingnothingbutcoldemptinessbehind.
TherewasnothingleftofmewhenItookoutallthepartsthatbelongedtoher.
I’maskingyoutoleavemealone,Christian.
Leavingwentagainstmyeveryinstinct.EverymoleculeofmybodydemandedIstayandfightforher,tobegandpleaduntilsheforgaveme.
ButIhadalreadycrossedtoomanyboundarieswithher,andIcouldn’tcrossanotherone.Notwhenshe’dexplicitlyaskedmenotto.
I’dmeantwhatIsaid.
IwouldgiveStellaanythingshewanted,evenifitkilledmeintheprocess.42
STELLA
Iwaited
untilthedoorshutbehindhimbeforeIcollapsed.
SobswrackedmybodyasIsankontothefloorandfinallyletthefullfloodofmytearsflow.
Iloveyou.Sofuckingmuch.
Thewordsechoedinmyheadlikeataunt,asdidtheimageofChristian’sfacebeforeheleft.
Theagonyinhiseyes.Thetormentinhisvoice.ThebrokennessthatIfeltassurelyasifitweremyownbecauseitwas.
Myhearthadsplinteredintoathousandjaggedpieces,andtheycutandcutuntilIcouldn’tstopbleeding.
ItwasverypossibleImightdierightthere,withmykneesdrawntomychestandmytrustinshambles.
Ibelievedhewassorry,andIbelievedhelovedmeinwhateverwayheknewhow.
Buttheydidn’tchangethefactthatourrelationshiphadbeenbuiltonalie.Heknew
howmuchthestalkerhadtraumatizedme.HowmuchIhatedtheinvasionofprivacyandlossofcontrolovermyownlife.
Christiandidwhathedidbeforethestalkershowedup,buthe’dsatonthosefilesforyearsandnevertoldme.
He’dheldallthecardswhileIheldonlythescrapshegaveme.
Ourpowerimbalancewasn’taboutmoneyorsecurity;itwasabouttrust.I’dalwaysgivenmorethanIreceivedfromhim.
Thethoughtofhimsittingathisdeskandpokingthroughthemostintimatepartsofmylifewithamerepressofabuttonsentanothershiverdownmyspine.
Ipulledmylegstightertomychestandburiedmyfaceinmyknees.
I’mso,sostupid.
I’dseenallthewarningsignsandignoredthembecauseI’dbeentoocaughtupintheexcitementoffallinginloveforthefirsttime.
Iwillalwaysbehereifyouneedme
Ishould’vebeenhappyChristianwasgone.Instead,myhearthollowedinmychestwhileabarrageofmemoriesplayedinmyhead.
Getinthecar,Stella.
I’veneverwantedanyonemore,andI’veneverhatedmyselfmoreforit.
Becauseloveisordinary.Mundane.Andyou,Stella…you’reextraordinary.
Ibelieveineverythingwhenitcomestoyou.
Oneweekago,we’dbeeninItaly,andwe’dbeenhappy.
PartofmewishedI’dneverstumbledacrossthatsecretcompartmentorlookedthroughthosefiles.Thenwe’dstillbehappy,andIwouldn’tbesittingintheruinsofwhatweusedtobe.
ChristianwastheonlysafespaceIhad,andnowhewasgone.
Mygaspingsobsfilledthecocoonofmyarmsandlegs.I’dbeencryingsohardandforsolongthatmyribshurtandIcouldn’tdrawenoughoxygenintomylungs.
Icouldn’tbreathe.Icouldn’t—Ineeded…
“Stella?”
IheardAva’svoicefollowedbyaknock,butthesoundsweremuted,liketheyweretravelingtomeunderwater.
Iwasdrowningingrief,andIdidn’tknowhowtopullmyselfout.
“It’sokay.”Ava’svoicewascloser.Shemust’veenteredwhenIdidn’tanswer.“Oh,sweetie,it’llbeallright.Ipromise.”
ShewrappedherarmsaroundmeandrubbedsoothingcirclesonmybackwhileIleanedmyheadagainstherchestandcrieduntilIranoutoftears.
Partofmehadanticipatedthiscrashfromthebeginning.MyrelationshipwithChristianhadbeentooperfect,andnothingthatgoodcouldlastforever.
WhatIhadn’tanticipatedwashowmuchthecrashwouldbreakme.
Butthemostterrifyingpartwasn’tmybrokenheart.ItwasthepossibilitythatImightneverbeabletogluethepiecesbacktogetheragain.43
CHRISTIAN
“You’vehad
sevendrinksintwohours,bud.”Thebartenderstaredatmewithadubiousexpression.
“AndI’morderinganeighth.”Ienunciatedeachwordwithcoldprecision.Ididn’tslurorsway.Icouldbeblackoutdrunkandnoonewouldbethewiser.“Yougotaproblemwiththat?”
Hehelduphishandsandshookhishead.
“It’syourliver.”
Goddamnright.
Itwasmyliverandmymoney.IcoulddowhateverthehellIwantedwiththem.
Itossedbacktheglassheslidinmydirectionanddraineditinaminuteflat.
Thealcoholhadstoppedburningfourdrinksback,andittastedlikewatergoingdown.
Itpissedmeoff.Whatwasthepointofalcoholifitdidn’tnumbthewayitwassupposedto?
“Isthisseattaken?”AblondeslidontothestoolnexttominebeforeIcouldanswer.
Tinydress.Longlegs.LipsthatwouldmakeAngelinaJoliecrywithenvy.
Ididn’tspareherasecondglance.“Notinterested.”
Itwasthesamefuckingthingeverytime.Couldn’taguydrinkinpeacewithoutgettinghounded?
Icould’vesavedmyselfthetroubleanddrankathome,buttheapartmentwastoodepressingthesedays.Ialsodidn’twanttogototheValhallaClubsinceeveryonetherewasnosyasfuck.Noonelikedseeingamemberdownmorethantheothermembers.
SohereIwas,holedupinsomeshittydivebarneartheoffice,drowningmysorrowsinequallyshittyscotch.
Ifmyliverrebelled,itwouldn’tbefromthequantityofdrinks.Itwouldbefromthequalityofthem.
Theoffendedblondeleftinahuff,clearlyunusedtobeingrejected.
Toughshit.
It’dbeentwoweekssinceStellaandIbrokeup.
Twoweeksofunrelentinghellwhereeverything
remindedmeofher.Theblendershemadehersmoothiesin,thetubwhereshe’dbathed,thecafewheresheboughtherpastries.Eventhefuckingtreesandplantsoutsideremindedmeofher.
Itwasenoughtomakemewanttolockmyselfinadarkconcreteboxandnevercomeout.
Thejangleofbellsabovetheentrancepulledmeoutofmypatheticself-pityanddrewmyattentiontothedoor.
Myheartstopped.
Darkcurls.Greeneyes.Warmsmile.
Stella.
Forasecond,IthoughtIwashallucinatingandhadconjuredherfrommythoughts.
Thenhervoicewoundtowardme,asrealandtangibleasthecrackedvinylcushionofmystoolandthemutedbaseballgameplayingonTV.
Istraightened,myspiritsliftinguntilIsawtheguystandingnexttoher.Helookedvaguelyfamiliar,andhesaidsomethingthatmadehersmile.
Myhandtightenedaroundmyglassasanicyblackwaveofpossessivenessrippledthroughme.
Whoevertheguywas,Iwantedtofuckingkillhim.
Myeyestrackedthemastheysatatatableacrosstheroom.
Stellahadn’tnoticedmeyet.Shesaidsomethingelsetothesoon-to-bedeadfucker,butshemust’vefelttheweightofmystarebecauseshefinallylookedup.
Ourgazescollidedlikesparksintheair.
Ourrelationshiphadturnedtoashes,butthefirebetweenuswasstillthere,burningupspaceandoxygenuntilweweretheonlypeopleleft.
Mybloodroaredatthesweetreliefofseeingheragain.
Sheaskedmetoleaveheralone,andIhad.Usshowingupatthesamebaronthesamenightwould’vebeenacoincidence,butnothingwasacoincidencewhenitcametoher.
Itwasfate.
Stella’ssmilefaded.Sheturnedaway,andthesoundsofthebarrushedbackinapainfulwhoosh.
Iwasn’tsurewhatwasworse—seeingherandnotbeingabletotouchortalktoher,orknowingthatseeingmehadcausedherlighttodim.
Restlessnessandtheurgetoripoutthethroatofthemanshewastalkingtochurnedbeneathmyskin.
Insteadoforderinganotherdrink,Islidoffmystoolandpushedmywaythroughthecrowdtothebathroom.
Thestingofcoldwateragainstmyfaceclearedthehazefrommyvision.
Givingherupwasthehardestthingandthebiggestsacrificeshecould’veaskedfor.Itwentagainstmyeveryinstinct.
ShewouldneverknowifIcheckedhersocialmediaorblog.ButeverytimeIwenttopickupthephoneorpullupStella’sprofile,somethingheldmeback.
I’maskingyoutoleavemealone,Christian.
IyankedapapertowelfromthedispenserandwipedmyhandsdrybeforeIsteppedintothehall.
ImadeittwostepsbeforeIstopped
Stellastoodattheendofthehall,hertall,slimframesilhouettedagainstthebarlights.Still,Icouldmakeoutthewayherlipspartedinsurprise
Westaredateachother.
Musicpulsedafewfeetaway,buthere,inthishall,therewasonlysilenceandthehumofthingsIwantedtobutcouldn’tsay.
I’msorry.
Imissyou.
Iloveyou.
Aburstoflaughterfromthemainroomshatteredthespell.MyfacedarkenedwhenIlookedoverhershoulderandlsawtheguyshe’darrivedwithjokingwiththeserver.
ViolencepulsedthroughmeatthethoughtofhimtouchingStella.Holdingher,makingherlaugh.
Ihadneverhatedanyonemore.
Stellamust’vepickedupontheglintinmyeyesbecauseshefollowedmygazeandpaled.
Iwalkeddownthehall,intentonleavingbeforeIgaveintotheurgetotouchher.Shestoppedmewithalowwarningonmywaypast.
“Ifanythinghappenstohim,I’llneverforgiveyou.”
Theonlywordsshe’dspokentomeafterourbreakup,andtheyweretosaveanotherman.
AmuscleinmyjawflexedbeforeIwalkedpastherandoutthedoor.
Coldnessinvadedmychest.
JustwhenIthoughtI’dexperiencedallthewaysaheartcouldbreak,sheprovedmewrong.
***
STELLA
IsaggedwithequalpartsreliefanddisappointmentafterChristianleft.
ItoldmyselfI’dgoneintothehalltoreturnacall,butIcould’vedonethatoutsidethebar.Thetruthwas,I’dwanted
thatpassinginteractionwithhim,andIhatedmyselfforit.
Aftertwoweeks,mybrightburstofangerhadfadedintoadeep,ceaselessache.
Ihadn’tforgivenhim,butImissedhimsomuchitwashardtobreathe.
Ironically,therestofmylifewasonanupswingafterourbreakup.Itwaslikenowthatmylovelifewasinshambles,theuniversewasworkingovertimetomakeituptomeinotherareas.
TheDelamonteprintcampaignandWashingtonWeekly
profilehadopenedanewfloodofopportunities,asexpected.Luisawasecstaticabouthowthepartnershipwasgoing.Maurahadn’thadanyissuessincehersedation,thestalkerhadn’tmadeareappearance,andmyblogandsocialmediawerethriving.Ihadn’tpubliclyannouncedmybreakupwithChristian,butIwasn’tpostingabouthimanymore.Thathadn’thurtmyengagementasmuchasI’dthought,thoughIdidn’tcaremucheitherway.
I’dalsostartedreachingouttolocalboutiquesaboutmycollection.Infact,IwasherecelebratingwithBradybecauseoneofthemfinallyagreedtocarryafewtestpieces.
Overall,mylifewasgoinggreat…exceptforChristianandmyfamily.
Speakingofwhich…
ItookadeepbreathandrefocusedonthereasonI’dexcusedmyselffromBrady.AquickglancetoldmehewasstilltalkingtotheserverandthatChristianwasnowhereinsight.
MaybeIwasbeingparanoid,butIcould’veswornthere’dbeenamomentwhenChristianhadlookedathimlikehewascapableofmurderinghim.
Idialedthenumberfrommylatestmissedcallandtriedtounknotmynerveswhilethephonerang.
Shepickeduponthethirdring.
“Hi,Stella.”
“Hi,Mom.”
Itwasthefirsttimewe’dspokensinceourfamilydinnerinApril.
Fourmonths.
Itwasthelongestwe’dgonewithoutcontact,andhearinghervoiceagaincausedalumptoforminmythroat.
I’dhadmyreasonsforlashingoutthewayIhadduringthedinner,butshewasstillmymom.
“Howareyou?”Ararethreadofhesitationranbeneathhervoice.
“I’mokay.”Itwistedmynecklacearoundmyfinger.“SorryImissedyourcall.I’moutwithafriendandIdidn’tseeitearlier.”
“That’sokay.It’snothingimportant.”Sheclearedherthroat.“IreadyourWashingtonWeekly
profile.It’sagreatpiece,andyourDelamontephotosarebeautiful.”
Alltheairleftmylungs.OfallthethingsI’dexpectedhertosay,thathadn’tevenbeenintherealmofpossibility.
“Really?”Iaskedinasmallvoice
Myconfidencehadgrownoverthepastfewmonths,buttherewouldalwaysbealittlegirlinsidemethatwantednothingmorethanherparents’approval.
“NataliasaidyouandDadwereupsetaboutthephotos.”
Mylastconversationwithmysisterstillleftabittertasteinmymouth.
“Well,wewould’vepreferreditifyou’dwornmoreclothes,”mymothersaiddryly.“Butweweremoreshockedthanupset.Theprofile,however…Ihadnoideayou’daccomplishedsomuchwithyourblog,orthatyoufeltsostronglyaboutfashionstartingatsuchayoungage.”
Ididn’tpointoutthatwassomethingI’dbeentryingtotellhersinceIwasinmiddleschool.Ididn’twanttostartanotherargument.
“Istheprofiletheonlyreasonyoucalled?”Iwouldn’tbesurprised.Myparentslovedanythingthatmadethefamilylookgood.“Wehaven’ttalkedinmonths.”
Mymotherwasquietforaminute.“Everyone’semotionswererunninghighafterthedinner,”shefinallysaid.“Afterthingscalmed,Iwasn’tsureyouwantedtohearfromus.Youalwayscall,andwhenyoudidn’t…youweresoupset…”
Youalwayscall.
Translation:Ialwaysapologizedfirst.
Myhandcurledtighteraroundmyphone.“Dadtoldmetogetout,andIdidn’tknowifyouevencaredthatIwasn’taround.”
Mymotherletoutasharpexhale.“Ofcourse
wecare.You’reourdaughter.”
Itwistedthenecklaceharder.“Sometimes,itdoesn’tfeellikeit,”Isaid,mywordsbarelyaudible.
“Oh,Stella.”ShesoundedmoredistressedthanI’deverheardher.“Wedidn’t…”
Raucouscheersfromthebardrownedouttherestofhersentence.TheNationalsmust’vescoredarun;theirgameagainsttheRangerswasplayingonalltheTVs.
Whenthenoisedieddown,mymotherspokeagain.“You’reoutwithafriend,sothisisn’tthebesttimetotalk.Perhapswecanallmeetasafamilysoon?Notadinner.Somethingmorecasualwherewecanjusttalk.”
“I’dlikethat,”Isaidsoftly.
Ididn’twanttoholdontogrudges,especiallynotagainstmyfamily.
Ihadn’tseentheminsolong,andIwasn’tangryanymore.Iwasjustsad
AfterIhungup,Istayedinthehallandtriedtowrapmyheadaroundtheeventsoftheday.
Mycallwiththeboutique,seeingChristian,talkingtomymom…
Itwastoomuchatonce,buttheonlythingIcouldfocusonwashowmuchIwantedtosharewhat’dhappenedwithChristian.
Notjusttheboutiqueandmymom,buteverything.
HowIaccidentallyusedthewrongmilkformysmoothiethatmorningandnearlygaggedatthetaste.
HowAvaandJulesofferedtobefitmodelsformycollection.
HowproudIwasofallthelocaloutreachI’ddone.
HowmuchImissedhim.
IwassousedtosharingthedetailsofmylifewithChristianthatevenjournalingdidn’tfillthevoid.
Infact,Ihadn’ttouchedmyjournalsincewebrokeup;itwasfilledwithtoomanymemoriesofus.
Iwasupsetwithhim,andIwishedhewerehere.Boththingscouldbetrueatonce.
Lightanddark.Flameandice.Dreamsandlogic.
Ourrelationshiphadalwaysbeenadichotomy.Itmadesensethatitsdeathwouldbeaswell.44
CHRISTIAN
HarperSecurity’s
annualpokertournamenttookplaceinthecompany’smultipurposeroom,whichhadbeentransformedintoamini-casinowithanopenbarandhalfadozenpokertables.
Itwasusuallyrestrictedtostaffonly.Thisyear,IbrokemyownruleandinvitedRhys,whowasintownwithoutBridgetforonceforsomediplomaticevent,andAlex,asathankyouforkeepinganeyeonthingsformewhileIwasinItaly.Joshwasinvitedbydefaultsincehe’dinsistedontaggingalongwhenhefoundoutAlexwouldbeattending
Ilethim.IhadtoomuchothershittoworryaboutthanhisdelusionthatIwastryingtostealhisbestfriend.
Thefourofussatatatablebythebar.Theairwasalivewiththesoundsoflaughter,clinkingglasses,andshufflingdecks,butthemerrimentdidnothingtolightenmyblackmood.
“Howmanypokertournamentshaveyouattendedinthepast?”JoshaskedAlexsuspiciously.
ExasperationfilledAlex’sface.“Itoldyou,thisismyfirstone.”
“Justmakingsure.”Joshpluckedacardfromhisdeckandtosseditonthetable.Kingofhearts.“Sinceyou’dplayeddozensofchessmatches
withhim
”—hejerkedathumbatme—“andIdidn’tknowaboutitforliterallyyears
.”
Alexsighed.
“Ifyoukeepaskingthesamequestionoverandoveragain,youcanleave,”Isaidicily.Ididn’thavetimeforJosh’sbullshit.
“Someone’smoody.”Heraisedaneyebrow.“IsitbecauseStellabrokeupwithyou?”
MyjawflexedwhileAlexandRhyshidtheirsmirksbehindtheircards.
I’ddoneadecentjobofnotthinkingaboutStellatonightuntilJoshfuckingChenbroughtherup.
Youcan’tkillaguest,
avoiceinmyheadremindedme.
Actually,IcoulddowhateverthefuckIwanted,butthenI’dhavetodealwithAlex.IalsoassumedStellawouldn’tbetoohappyaboutmemurderingherbestfriend’sbrother.
“Iamnotmoody.You
aresimplyannoying.”
Ididn’tknowwhatStellatoldherfriendsaboutus,butsinceshe’dmovedintoAlexandAva’shouse,itwasobviousweweren’ttogetheranymore.
Joshshrugged.“Perhaps,butatleastI’mnotsingle.”
Myhandtwitchedtowardmygun.
“Keepprovokinghim,andhe’llkillyou.”Rhysknewmetoowell.He’dbeenquietmostofthenight,buthumorlithiseyeswhenhelookedatme.
“Issomethingfunny?”Itossedoutacardwithoutlookingatit.
“Asamatteroffact,yes.ChristianHarpermopingoveragirl,”hedrawled.“NeverthoughtI’dseetheday.”
Amigrainegatheredbehindmytemple
“I’mnotmoping.”
Ittookallmywillpowernottopunchtheshit-eatinggrinoffhisface.“Idon’tmope
.”
WhatI’dbeendoingthepastfewweekswasn’tmoping.Itwas…processing.
“That’snotwhatAlexsaid.”Asusual,Joshpipedupeventhoughtheconversationhadnothingtodowithhim.“HesaidyoushoweduptohishouseintearsthedayStellamovedin.”
“Iwasn’tinfuckingtears!”
Theroomquietedaseveryheadswiveledinmydirection.
IsawBrock’smouthdropandKage’seyebrowsflyupoutofthecornerofmyeye.
Ineveryelled.
NotwhenI’dfoundoutaboutMagda
’stheft,andnotwhenshitwentsidewaysatwork.Butit’dbeenahellishtwoweeks,andI’dbledthedatabaseofpeopletofuckwithwhenIhadabaddaydry.
TherewereonlysomanycomputersIcouldhackintobeforeitlostitsluster.
Iwould’veputmoreeffortintocreatinganewlistofnamesifIthoughtitwouldhelp,butitwouldn’t.
Ididn’tneedmorepeopletofuckwith.
IneededStella.
“Oh.Imust’verememberedwrong,”Alexsaidmildly.
IfIdidn’tknowbetter,Icould’veswornthatwaslaughterinhiseyes.
“RememberwhenyougavemeshitaftertheBridgetsituation?”Rhyswaspracticallyinschadenfreude,thatbastard.“Yousaidloveis,andIquote,tedious,boring,andutterlyunnecessary.Peopleinlovearethemostinsufferableontheplanet.
”Hisgrinwidened.“Wanttotakethatback?”
Myteethgroundinirritation.
“It’sdeeplyconcerningthatyoucanquotemewordforword.Findanewhobby,Larsen.Obsessingovermeisn’thealthy.”Ipushedbackmychair,tooaggravatedtositanylonger.
“Whereareyougoing?It’syourturn!”Joshprotested.“We’reinthemiddleofagame!”
IignoredhimandwalkedoffwithRhys’slaughteratmybackandirritationflickeringthroughmyveins.
Ihad
saidthosethingshe’dquoted.NowIwasoneofthoseinsufferableidiots,piningaftertheonlywomanwho’deverbrokenmyheart.
Karmawasanevenbiggerbitchthanfate.
Ienteredthekitchenandpouredmyselfanotherdrink.Itwasonlymysecondofthenight.I’dsetthetrapforthetraitorearlier,butIneededtokeepmyheadclearjustincase.
Foursuspects.FourdifferentpiecesofinformationI’dcasuallyslippedintoaconversationabouthowI’ddevelopedanewdevicethatmadeScyllalooklikechild’splay.
Thetraitorwouldn’tbeabletoresistleakingthatinformationtoSentinel.Oncetheydid,Ionlyhadtolookatthedetailsofwhatwasleakedtopinpointtherat.
Itwasasimpletrap,butitworkedeverytime.I’djustneededtogetallthesuspectsinoneroomsoIcouldhavetheconversationswithoutraisingsuspicion.MymenallknewIdidn’tdiscussthesethingsoverthephone.
AndifthetraitorwaswhoIthoughtitwas…
Idrainedmyglass.
Mylifewasgoingtoshit,andalcoholwastheonlythingthatmademefeelbetterthesedays.
Thatandtheletters.
Mymindflashedtomydeskdrawer.
“Hey.”Rhys’sgruffvoicedraggedmebacktothekitchen.“Yougood?”
“Neverbeenbetter.”Theacerbicbiteofmywordsstrainedtheair.
Heleanedagainstthecounterandcrossedhisarms.Hiseyesmovedfromthetightsetofmyjawtomyemptyglassandbackagain.
Hisearlierlaughterfaded,replacedwithsympathy.“You’vegotitbad.”
Ididn’tanswer.
“Howmuchdidyoufuckup?”HiseyebrowsrosewhenIremainedsilent.“Thatmuch,huh?”
“It’scomplicated.”
“Thesethingsalwaysare.”Rhyssighed.“Whateveryoudid,it’sprobablynotasbadasyouthink.StellaisoneofthenicestpeopleIknow.She’llforgiveyou.Shejustneedstime.”
Perhaps.ButprivacywasoneofthemostimportantthingstoStella,andI’dcrossedsofaroverthatlineIcouldn’tseeit.
Herstalkerhadterrorizedherformonths,andthefactthatIremindedherevenalittleofthebastard…
Thealcoholchurnedinmystomach.
“RhysLarsengivingrelationshipadvice.Hellmust’vefrozenover.”Ibrushedoverhisstatementforasafertopic.
Rhyssnorted.“Itfrozethedayyouutteredthewordlove
inanon-demeaningway.”Hestraightenedandclappedhishandonmyback.“IfVolkovcangethisgirlbackafterayear,there’shopeforyou.Justdon’tfuckitupagain.”
Ipouredmyselfanotherdrinkafterheleftanddrankitaloneinthecompanykitchen.
Mylifereallyhadgonetoshit.45
CHRISTIAN
Ididn’treturnhome
untiltwointhemorning.
Myfootstepsechoedagainstthemarblefloorsonmywaytomyoffice.I’dgrowntohatethewalkfromthefrontdoor.Ipassedbytoomanyquietroomsandtoomanyghostsofourmemories.
Stellahadlivedwithmeforonlyafewmonths.I’dlivedaloneforyearswithoutherandbeenfine.
Butnowthatshewasgone,thepenthousefeltempty,likealltheheartandsoulhadbeensuckedoutofit,leavingnothingbutahollowshellbehind.
Myofficedooropenedsoundlessly,andIsankintomyseatwithoutturningonthelights.
I’dshreddedallthefilesI’dhadonStellathedayaftershefoundthem,buttheirphantompresencetaintedwhatusedtobeasanctuary.
Still,Ipreferredtheofficetomybedroom,wherehersoftscentlingeredinthesheetsandpillowsweekslater.Sometimes,Iheardherlaugh.Othertimes,Irolledoverandcould’veswornshewasnexttome,teasingmelikeshealwaysdid.
Itippedmyheadback.
Scotchandadrenalinefromthepokertournamentlingeredinmyblood.
Brockhadbeenthebigwinner.HewasoffdutysinceStellawashomeforthenight,butIhadn’tcongratulatedhim.Itwashardformetolookathimwhenheremindedmeofher.
Itwasevenhardernottoaskabouther.
I’dinstructedhimtoalertmeimmediatelyifshewasindanger,butotherwise,herpresent-dayliferemainedamystery.
I’dbeentemptedtocallJulesforinformationaswell.Sheowedmeforgettingheroutofatightspotlastyear,andshewasoneofStella’sbestfriends.IfanyoneknewwhatStellawasthinkingandfeeling,itwasher.
Stella’slastrequesttomewastheonlythingholdingmeback.ItwasaleashIcouldeasilybreak,yetitshackledmemoreeffectivelythanironrestraints.
IfeltsofuckingstupidformissinghersomuchandevenstupiderforthecopingmechanismI’ddevelopedsincesheleft.
Iliftedmyheadandopenedthesecretdrawerthatusedtoholdherfiles.Now,itwasfilledwithlettersI’dneversent.
Oneforeverydaywe’dbeenapart.
Itwasthetypeofsappy,patheticbehaviorI’dderidedinthepast.IfPastChristiancouldseemenow,he’dshootmeandputmeoutofmymisery.
Ididn’tcare.ThelettersweretheonlywayIcouldtalktoherthesedays,andwritingthemwasalmosttherapeutic.
Theycoveredaspanoftopics,fromsnippetsofmylifegrowinguptomyfavoritebookstohowmuchIdespisedclowns(Iwasconvincedtheywerethedevilinhumanform,exceptlessfun).Theletterswerelikechaptersfromseparatebooks,tossedtogetherinthechaosthatmadeupmylife.
Theonlythingtheyhadincommonwasthattheywereallforher.
Stellasaidsheknewnothingaboutme,soIpouredallofmyselfouttoher
Ipickedupapenandstartedwritingthatnight’sletter.WhenIfinished,exhaustionblurredmyvision,butItuckedthenotecarefullyintothedraweralongwithitsbrethren.
Insteadofretiringtomybedroom,Istayedinmyofficeandstaredoutthewindowatthedarknightsky.
Mycollectionofplantslinedthesill,silhouettedagainstthemoonlight.
Theyjustneedalittleloveandattentiontothrive.
I’dbeenwateringandtakingcareofthemreligiouslysinceStellaleft.Shelovedthoseplants.
ButnomatterhowmuchcareIgavethem,theystilllookedsadanddroopy,liketheyknewtheirusualcaregiverwasgoneandwasnevercomingback.
“Iknow,”Isaid.Icouldn’tbelieveI’dsunktoconversingwithplants,butherewewere.“Imisshertoo.”
***
July
30
Stella,
Ihaveaconfession:Ineverwantedapet,notevenwhenIwasakid.
MyparentsaskedmeonceifIwantedapuppy,andItoldtheminnouncertaintermsthatIdidnot.
It’snotbecauseIhateanimals.Ijustalwaysthoughttheyweretoomuchworkfortoolittlereward.Ididn’tunderstandwhysomeonewouldbringadogorcatintotheirhome,treatitliketheirchild,andloveitforyearswhenthey
knewthatanimal’slifespanwassomuchshorterthantheirown.
Itwasliketheywereaskingfortheirhearttobebroken.
Now,Iunderstand.
It’sbecausethetimetheyspenttogetherwasworththeheartbreak.
Beforeyougetangry,I’mnotcomparingyoutoananimal.ButifIhadthechancetogobackintimeandleavethecafeaminutebeforeyoupassedorstayinmyofficeinsteadofdroppingbytheapartmentthedayyousignedthelease,Iwouldn’t.
Evenknowingwhattheoutcomewouldbe.
EvenknowingthatIwouldeventuallygetmyheartbroken.
Becauseallthemostbeautifuldaysofmylifehavebeenwithyou,andIwouldn’ttradethatforanythingintheworld.
Iwouldratherbemiserablenowafterhavingbeenlovedbyyouthanbehappywithouthavingeverknownyou.
***
August
6
Stella,
Rememberwhenyouranintomeinthelobbythenightwesignedouragreement?Youmentionedadateshouldincludedinner,drinks,andhandholding.Or,asanalternative,cuddlingonabenchoverlookingtheriver,followedbywhisperedsweetnothingsandagoodnightkiss.
Atthetime,itwasthemostatrociousthingI’deverheard,butifyouevercomebacktome…Ihaveitallplannedout.
We’llhavedinneratmyfavoriteItalianrestaurantinColumbiaHeights.It’satinyplace,barelylargeenoughtoseatadozenpeopleatonetime,buttheymakethesecond-bestgnocchiintheworld(aftermygrandmother’s).
She’snothereanymore,butwhenIwasakid,Iwenttoherhouseafterschoolandshespenthoursteachingmehowtocook.Besidesmytimewithyou,thosedaysweremyhappiest.Laughingwithherinthekitchen,rollingthedoughandgettingflouralloverourselveswhiletheoldsixtiesmusicshelovedplayedinthebackground.
Hergnocchiwasmyfavoritedish.Unfortunately,herrecipewaslostaftershedied,butwhenItrieditatthisrestaurant…itwastheclosestI’dfoundtohowsheusedtomakeit.
IknowIwentoffonatangent,butIwantedtosharethatstorywithyou.I’venevertoldanyoneabouthowIlearnedtocookbefore.
Anyway,Ithinkyouwouldlovetherestaurant.Afterthat,we’llhavedrinksatabarnearby,thengototheGeorgetownwaterfrontandsitonabenchbytheriver.Wecankissandholdhandsandwhisperhowevermanysweetnothingsyouwant.
Becauseifthisdatedoeshappen,itmeansyou’veforgivenme.AndifIhaveyouback,I’llnevergiveyouareasontoleaveagain.
***
August
12
Stella,
It’stwo-thirtyinthemorningasIwritethis.
Ihaven’tsleptinalmosttwenty-fourhours.
ButIcouldn’tgotosleepwithouttellingyouthis…
I’mtrying,Butterfly.I’mtryingsofuckinghard.
Tostayawayfromyou.Tonotthinkaboutyou.Tonotloveyou.
MylifewouldbesomucheasierifIcouldmoveon,butIknowIcan’t.
Evenifyouneverforgiveme.
Evenifyounevertalktomeagain.
Evenifyoumoveon.
I’llstillloveyou.
Youwillalwaysbemyfirst,last,andonlylove.46
STELLA
Thatweekend,
myfamilyandImetatacafeinVirginia.
Wesatinaboothneartheexit.Itwasthequietestcorneroftherestaurant,whichbustledwiththeSundaybrunchrush.
Myfatherworehisfavoritebluepoloshirt,mymotherworehersignaturepearls,andmysisterworelethalheelsandamildlyannoyedexpression,thewaytheyalwaysdidduringourmonthlymeals.
Itwaslikeourfamilydinnerhadtransplanteditselfintoagreenleatherboothinsteadofmyparents’prizedmahoganydiningtable.
Theonlydifferenceswerethesunnywindowsandtheawkwardsilenceblanketingthetableafterweranoutofsmalltalk.
“So.”Mymotherclearedherthroat.“How’sMauradoing?”
Iblinkedatherchoiceoftopic,butIansweredreadily.“She’sdoingwell.ShehashergardenandpuzzlesatGreenfield,soshe’shappy.”
Mymothernodded.“Good.”
Anothersilencefell.
We’dbeendodgingtheelephantintheroomallafternoon.Atthisrate,we’dbehereuntilclosingtime.
Iclosedmyhandsaroundmymugandtookcouragefromthewarmthseepingintomypalms.
“Aboutwhathappenedatthedinner…”Everyonevisiblystiffened.“I’msorryifIhurtyourfeelings,Mom,”Isaidsoftly.“Thatwasn’tmyintention.ButyouhavetounderstandwhyI’vebeenpayingforMaura’scare.She’salwaysbeentherewhenIneededher.Nowshe’stheonewhoneedsme,andIcan’tleavehertofendforherself.Shehasnooneelse.”
“Idounderstand.”MymothergaveasmallsmilewhenIstartledinsurprise.“I’vehadtimetothinkaboutitoverthepastfewmonths.Thetruthis,I’vealwaysbeenalittlejealousofyourrelationshipwithMaura.It’smyownfault,ofcourse.Iwastoobusywithmycareertospendmuchtimewithyougirls.BythetimeIrealizedhowmuchI’dmissed,youwereallgrownup.Youdidn’twanttospendtimewithusanymore.Wepracticallyhavetoforceyoutocometoourfamilydinners.”
“It’snotthatIdon’twanttospendtimewithyou.It’s…”Mycheekswarmed.“It’stheaccomplishmentsgame.”
ItsoundedstupidwhenIsaiditoutloud,buteverytimeIthoughtaboutthat“fungame,”anxietycrawledbeneathmyskinandateawayatmynerves.
“Itmakeseverythingintoacompetition,”Isaid.“You,Dad,andNataliaallhavethesehigh-poweredjobs,andI’m…well,youknow.Ilovefashion,andI’mnotashamedofit.Buteverytimeweplaythatgame,IfeellikeI’mthebiggestdisappointmentatthetable.”
“Stella.”Mymothersoundedpained.“You’renotadisappointment.Iadmit,wedon’talwaysunderstandyourchoices,andyes,wewishedyou’dchosenamorefinanciallystablecareerthanfashion.Butyoucouldneverdisappointus.You’reourdaughter.”
“Wewantwhat’sbestforyou,”myfatheraddedgruffly.“Weweren’ttryingtokeepyoufromdoingwhatyouloved,Stella.Wejustdidn’twantyouwakinguponedayrealizingyou’vemadeamistakewhenit’stoolate.”
“Iknow.”Ididn’tdoubtthatmyparentswantedwhatwasbestforme.Itwasthewaytheywentaboutitthatwastheproblem.“ButI’mnotachildanymore.Youhavetoletmemakemyowndecisionsandmistakes.Ifmyfashionlinetakesoff,great.Ifitdoesn’t,I’velearnedsomeimportantlessonsandI’lldobetternexttime.Ijustknowthat’swhatIwanttodo.Ican’tgobacktoworkingforsomeoneelse.”
MyparentsexchangedglanceswhileNataliashiftednexttome.
“IhaveadecentamountofmoneyfromsomebigbranddealsIsigned,andI…”IhesitatedbeforeIfinished.“Icompletedmyfirstcollection.Alocalboutiqueagreedtostockit,soI’mhopingthat’llbringinmoremoneyaswell.”
Ialsoplannedtodoanofficiallaunchonline,butIwantedtotestthewatersfirst.
Mymother’seyeswidened.“Really?Oh,Stella,that’samazing!”
“Thankyou,”Isaidshyly.Itracedthehandleofmymugwithmythumb.“So,you’renotmadthatI’mnotlookingforanofficejob?”
Anotherexchangeofglances.
“Obviously,you’redoingwellwithyourpartnerships,andthefashionlineisofftoagoodstart.”Myfathercoughed.“There’snoreasonwhyyoushouldgetanofficejobifthat’snotwhatyouwant.But
,”hesaidwhenasmileblossomedonmyface.“Ifyoueverrunintotrouble,youneedtotellus.NohidingitlikeyoudidtheD.C.Style
debacle.”
“Iwon’t,”Ipromised.
“Good.Now,where’sthatsmart-mouthedboyfriendofyours?”hegrumbled.“Itwasdisrespectful,thewayhespoketomeinmyownhome,butIsupposehewasn’tentirelywrong.”
Mysmiledimmed.“We,um…”Iswallowedpastthesuddenlumpinmythroat.“Webrokeup.”
Threepairsofsurprisedeyesturnedtome.
ConsideringthewayChristianandIhaddefendedeachotheratthedinner,they’dprobablythoughtwewouldlastlongerthanafewmonths.
SohadI.
“I’msorry,”mymothersaidsympathetically.“Howareyoudoing?”
Iforcedasmile.“I’llbeokay.”
“You’llfindsomeonebetter.”Myfather’stoneturnedbrisk.“Neverlikedhim.Ifyouknewsomeoftherumors”—hebrokeoffwhenmymotherelbowedhimsharplyintheribs—“ButIguesstheydon’tmatternow,”hefinishedwithanothergrumble.
Iswitchedtopics,andtheconversationlighteneduntilmyfatherwentoutsidetotakeacallandmymomwenttousetherestroom.
Nataliahadbeennoticeablyquietallafternoon,butsheturnedtomewhentheywereoutofearshot.
Istiffened,bracingmyselfforanothercriticalorsnarkycomment.
Instead,shelookedalmostsheepishassheglancedatme.“Ididn’twanttobringitupagaininfrontofMomandDad,”shesaid.“ButI’msorryforthewayIoutedyouaboutD.C.Style.
Ididn’tmeantobemalicious.”
“Didn’tyou?”
Hereyeswidenedbeforeaflushstoleoverhercheeks.“Maybealittle,”shesaidquietly.“Youwererightwhenyousaideverythingfeelslikeacompetition.”
“Itdoesn’thavetobe.”
“No.”Nataliaexaminedmewithacuriousexpression.“You’vechanged.You’re…”
“Bolder?”Isaidwithasmallsmile.
Hersmilematchedmine.“Yes.”
ThatwasoneofChristian’sgreatestgiftstome.Notexpensivejewelryorfancytrips,butthecouragetospeakupformyself.
MysisterandIlapsedintosilenceagainwhenourparentsreturned.
Ifeltstrangelytiredallofasudden,butmaybethatwastheemotiondrainingme.
“Wehavetoleaveforanevent,butfamilydinnersoon?”mymomaskedhopefully.“Thoughperhapsweshouldskiptheachievementsportionandsimplyenjoythemeal.”
Iletoutachokedlaugh.“That’sprobablyagoodidea.”
Ibreathedinherfamiliarperfumewhenshehuggedme.
Myfamilyhuggedallthetimeinpublic,butthatwasmostlyforshow.Wehadtoplayourpartastheperfectfamily.
Thistime,itfeltreal.
Brockwaiteduntilmyfamilyleftbeforeheventuredover.
He’dgivenuptryingtomeltintotheshadowssincemybreakupwithChristian.Iwasn’tsurewhetheritwasonhisboss’sordersorifhewasmoreworriednowthatIwasnolongerlivinginChristian’shouse.
Eitherway,Iappreciatedandresentedit.
AppreciateditbecauseIlikedthesenseofsecurity.
ResenteditbecauseheremindedmeofChristian,andeveryreminderwasaknifethroughtheheart.
“Areyoureadytoleave,ordoyouwanttostaylonger?”Brockasked.Maybeitwasthelighting,buthelookedseveralshadespalerthanwhenhe’dentered.“Wecan…”
Heswayedonhisfeet.
Asharpstabofconcernpulledmybrowstogether.“Doyouneedtositdown?Youdon’tlooksogood.”
Actually,Ididn’tfeelgreateither.Myearlierlethargyintensifiedandtuggedatmylimbsandeyelids.Brock’sfaceswambeforemeuntilIblinkedtheblurrinessaway.
“Yes,I”—hegrippedtheedgeofthetable.“I”—hisfaceturnedghostlywhitebeforeflushingcrimson.“Stayhere.I’llberightback.”
Heboltedtowardthebathroom.Thedoorslammedshut.Asecondlater,Iheardthefaintbutunmistakablesoundofvomiting.
Myownstomachtwistedatthenoise.
Ihopedwehadn’tgottenfoodpoisoning,butsomethingwasclearlywrong.
Myvisionblurredagain.Thistime,blinkingdidn’thelp.
Istood,hopingthechangeinaltitudewouldclearmyhead,butaninstantwaveofdizzinessforcedmebackintomyseat.
Whatisgoingon?
I’donlyhadteaandapastry.Couldyouevenget
foodpoisoningfromteaandpastries?
Blackdotsdancedinfrontofmyeyes,andpanictightenedmylungs.
Air.Ineedair.
Istumbledoutoftheboothtowardtheentrance.
Brockhadsaidtostayandwaitforhim,butthenoisearoundmehadcoalescedintoaconcreteweightinmychest.NomatterhowmanydeepbreathsItook,Icouldn’tpushitoff.
But…
Imadeithalfwaytothedoorwhensomethinghitme.WhatifsomeonehaddruggedmeandBrockandwaswaiting
formetoleave?Itseemedfar-fetched,butstrangerthingshadhappened.
Ipausedattheexitandtriedtosortthroughmyincreasinglymuddledthoughts.
IfIstayed,Imightsuffocate.IfIleft,Icouldbeplayingrightintoahypotheticalattacker’shands.
Think,Stella.
WasIbeingparanoid?Itwouldn’thurttosneakaquickbreathoffreshair,right?Icouldstayrightbythe—
Someonecameupbehindmecloseenoughtotouch,andIrealizedIwasblockingthedoor.
“I’msorry,”Imumbled.Thewordscameoutslurred.“I’llmoveoutofyourway.”
“Don’tbesorry,”thefiguresaid.“Youjustmadethingsalot
easierforme.”
Somethingcoldandhardpressedagainstmyback.
Iwassooutofit,mybraintookseveralmomentstoregisterwhatitwas.
Agun.
Mypanicexplodedintoatrappedscreamthatnevermadeitoutofmythroat
Notsoparanoidafterall.
IwassostunnedaboutbeingrightthatIcouldn’tprocesswhatwashappening.IfeltlikeI’dbeendroppedintothemiddleofanactionthrillerwithnowarning.
“Don’tscream.”Thegunpressedharder.“Orthiswillbeverymessyforeveryoneinvolved.”
Howwasheabletodothisinpublic?Didnoonenoticewhatwashappening?
Butitwasthelunchrush,andmybodywasshieldinghis,and…
Mythoughtsjumbledfurther.
Ididn’thavetheenergytosortthroughwhatwashappening,nordidIhaveachoice.
Ifollowedthefigureoutsideandwould’vetrippedandfellhadhenotheldmeup.
Theworldwasakaleidoscopichazeofconcreteanddistantcarhorns.
Eventually,thesoundsfaded,andtherewasonlythecrunchofgravelbeneathourfeet.
“Apologiesinadvance.”Nowthatweweresomewherequiet,thevoicesoundedclearer.Morefamiliar.I’dhearditbefore.Where
?“Thisisgoingtohurt.”
Ididn’tgetachancetoprocesshiswordsbeforesomethinghardhitmeovertheheadandfulldarknessengulfedme.47
CHRISTIAN
SentinelCEO’s
tohistopcyberdeveloperfilledmycomputerscreen.
ItwasaroleKurtzhadcopiedfrom—whoelse?—me,sincemostsecuritycompaniesdidn’tdevelopsoftwareorhardware,butthatwasn’ttheissue.
Theissuewaswhatwasintheemail.
Asexpected,thetraitorhadrunstraighttoSentinelwiththeinformationI’dfedhimatthepokertournament.
HeworkedfasterthanIthought;it’donlybeentwodays.
Ireadandrereadthelastlineoftheemail,whichincludedthedetailsI’dchangedforeachsuspecttoparseoutwhotheleakwas.
NowIknew.
IcesluicedthroughmyveinsasIexitedtheemailappandpulledupsurveillancefootagefromthefrontofhisbuilding.
IwaiteduntilhegotinhiscarbeforeIstood,slippedonmyjacket,andwalkedcalmlytotheMirage’sgarage.
InsteadofmyMcLaren,IselectedthegraysedanIusedwhenItailedsomeone.Itwasutterlyunremarkableandblendedinwitheveryothervehicleontheroad.
I’dputatrackeronallthesuspects’carsweeksago,soitdidn’ttakemelongtotailthetraitortoanabandonedjunkyardontheoutskirtsofthecity.
Kurtzwasalreadywaitingtherewithasmarmysmile.
Iwantedtoripouteverytoothandshovethemdownhisfuckingthroat,butIforcedmyselftobreathethroughmycrimsonhaze.
Patience.
Iwoulddealwithhimlater.
Iparkedinaspotthatwasoutoftheireyeshotbutgavemeanindirectviewofthemviaoneoftheoldjunkcars’rearviewmirrors.
ItwastherethatIwatchedKageexithiscarandgreetKurtz.
Myhandtightenedaroundthesteeringwheel.
Ofthefoursuspects,Kagehadbeenthemostandleastlikely.
Most,becausehewastheonewho’dbeenbestpositionedtoaccessthehigh-levelleakedinformation.
Least,becausehe’dbeentheclosestthingI’dhadtoabrotheratHarperSecuritysinceRhysleft.
Ragerolledthroughmybloodinanicy,unforgivingwave.Itbeggedmetoreleaseit,todestroynotonlythepeopleinthejunkyardbuteverythingtheyloved.
Kurtz’scompany.Kage’sreputation.Theirmoney,theirfamilies…
Iforcedtheurgeatbay.Later.
“Doyouhavetheblueprint?”Kurtzasked.
“Notyet.It’sabrand-newdevice.”Kageranahandoverhisbuzzcut.“Idon’thavethedetailsyet,andIcan’tleakittoosoonorhe’llgetsuspicious.He’salreadyonalertbecauseofScylla.”
“Thenwhythefuckdidyoutellhimaboutthecopy?”Kurtz’ssmilecollapsedintoascowl.“Nowheknowshehasaproblem.”
“Ihadtogethimoffmyass,”Kagegrowled.“Keephistrust.Hewasgettingsuspiciousaboutwhyitwastakingmesolongtofigureoutwhathappened.It’sthatdamnwomanhe’sdating.”Histonedarkenedfurther.
Ihadn’ttoldanyoneexceptBrockthatStellaandIhadbrokenup.Itwasnoneoftheirgoddamnedbusiness.
“Don’tworryabouthimtracingthecopybacktoyou.He’ssodistractedbypussyhe’sluckythecompanyisstillrunningproperly.HetookamonthofftoplaytourguideforheraroundItaly,forfuck’ssake.”
“Ah,yes.Stella.Imether.Atleastit’sfinepussy.”Kurtzlaughed,andmyragedeepenedintoacrimson-tintedcloud.“YouknowHarper.He’ssoblindedbyhubrishethinkshecanhandleanythingandthatnoonewoulddarebetrayhim.Iwould’velovedtoseehisfacewhenhefoundoutaboutAxel.”
Kagesnorted.“Thatfuckerwasgettingonmynerves.Alwaystryingtokissassandone-upme.ThankfuckwemadehimthefallguyandHarperfellforit.Onelessproblemonmyplate.”
I’dsuspectedAxelmightnothavebeenresponsibleforMagda
’stheftwhenIdiscoveredanotherleakmonthsago.
Theconfirmationelicitedararetwingeofregret,butIcouldn’tchangethepast,sotherewasnouseagonizingoverwhathappened.
ThebestthingIcoulddowasexactproperjusticeonthereal
traitor.
“Yes,well,thathadtobedone.Toobadweneverfiguredoutwhatwassospecialaboutthathideouspainting.WentthroughallthattroubletogetitonlytohavetosellitbeforeHarpertraceditbacktous,”Kurtzgrumbled.
“That’sonethinghenevertoldanyone,notevenme.”Kageshrugged.“IfIfindout,I’llletyouknow.”
“Youdothat.”Kurtz’ssmilewasnotunlikethatofasharkgrinningatprey.“Inthemeantime…”Heretrievedabriefcasefromthetrunkofhiscar.“YoursecondhalfofthecutfortheScyllainformation.Cashonly,asrequested.”
Abriefcase?Really?
Icouldn’tdecidewhatpissedmeoffmore—Kurtz’sface,Kage’sbetrayal,orthefactthattheywereactinglikevillainsinabadTVcopdrama.
“Youmustreallyhatehimtofuckhimoverlikethis,”KurtzsaidasKagecountedthecash.“ThoughtyouandHarperwerebrothersinarmstillyoureachedoutacoupleofyearsago.”
“Wewere,”Kagesaidcoldly.Hesnappedthebriefcaseclosed.“Thingschange.Noonewantstoliveinanother’sshadowforever.”
“Ambition.Lovetoseeit.”Kurtzclappedhimontheshoulder.Kagegrimaced,buttheSentinelCEOdidn’tseemtonotice.“Youknow,whenyoufirstcontactedus,Ithoughtyouweresettingmeup,butyou’veproventobeausefulally.I’vebeendyingtoseeHarpertakendownapegortwoforyears.”Hegotinhiscarandwinked.“Nicedoingbusinesswithyou,asalways.”
Kurtzdroveoff.
Iwoulddealwithhimlater.NowthatI’dconfirmedSentinelwasbehindtheScyllaknockoff,Iknewtheywerealsotheoneswho’dsuppliedthedevicetoStella’sstalker.Thatfactaloneearnedthemmorethanalittlesystemcrash.
Kagetossedthebriefcaseinhistrunkandwalkedaroundtothedriver’sseatwhileIgotoutofmycar,myfootstepssilentagainstthesoftearth.
“Whateverhepaidyou,itwasn’tenough.”Mycasualobservationbouncedoffthetwistedmetalheapssurroundingus.
Istoppedafewfeetfromwherehe’dparked.
Tohiscredit,Kageonlyfrozefortwosecondsbeforeherecovered.
Hestraightenedandfacedme,hismouthrelaxingintoaneasysmile.“Christian.Whatareyoudoinghere?”
Despitehiscasualtone,Isawtheemotionsplayoutinhiseyes.
Surprise.Panic.Fear.
“Ihadsomefreetime.Decidedtocheckinonmybestemployee.”Mysmilematchedhis.
Hiseyetwitchedatthewordemployee.
Westaredateachother,theairtautwiththescentsofrustedironandbrewingviolence.
Nowthatwewerefacetoface,IallowedmyemotionsfreereignforthefirsttimesinceIsawKurtz’semail.
Kagewasmyoldestemployee.Myright-handman.
Onceuponatime,he’dsavedmylife,andhewasoneofthefewpeopleI’dtrusted.
Hisbetrayaltwistedaroundmyinsideslikebarbedwireandsqueezedoutdropsofblood.
Onedropforeverymealwe’dshared,everyconversationwe’dhad,everyproblemwe’dtackledtogetherandeverytoughsituationwe’dpulledeachotherthrough.
ThecrimsonpoolfilledmystomachwithacidandateawayatmyarmoruntilgriefandanothertwingeofregretoverwhatIhadtodopeekedthrough.
Ieasedabreaththroughmylungs.
Thearmorrebuiltitselfandtrappedmyfloatingemotionsbackintheircage.
Fiveseconds.ThatwasthelongestIallowedsentimentalitytostay.
“Whatwasit?”Ibrokethesilence.“Youwantedahighersalary?Morerecognition?Afuckingthrillbecauseyou’resogoddamnedbored?”
Kagedroppedtheplayingdumbact.
“It’snotaboutthemoney.It’saboutyou.”
Resentmentleakedintohiswords.“Ifitweren’tforme,thecompanywouldn’tbewhereitistoday.I’m
theonewhorunstheday-to-dayoperationswhileyoujetsetaroundtheworldwithyourfuckingprivateplaneandfancyhotels.Yoursisthenameonthedoor.You’retheoneeveryonefawnsover.You’retheCEO,andI’mafuckingemployee.I’mnotyourpartner.I’mjustasoldierinyourcommand.EverytimeIgosomewhere,peopleonlyaskmeaboutyou
.I’msick
ofit.”
Oh,forfuck’ssake.
Iwasalmostdisappointedthereasonforhisbetrayalwassopedestrian.EnvyandresentmentwereasmundaneasIusedtothinklovewas.
Butthatwasthethingabouthumans.Theirmostbasicemotionswerethemostdangerous.
“Morerecognition,then,”Isaidmildly.“Enoughthatyouwouldruntoourbiggestcompetitorandfuckoveryourfriendandwhatyousaidyouhelpedbuild.Youcould’vetalkedtome,butyoufuckingdidn’t.Thatdoesn’tmakeyouahero,Kage.Thatmakesyouagoddamncoward.”
Kagehad
helpedmeinthecompany’sinfancy,andheplayedanintegralroleinthecompany’soperations.I’dcompensatedhimextremelywellforboththosethingsovertheyears.
However,HarperSecurityflourishednotbecauseofitsoperationsbutmycontactsandthecyberarmI’dbuilt.Kagehadlittleinterestinnetworkingandevenlessknowledgeofcyberdevelopment.Hisreasoningwasflawed.
Theonlythinghewasrightaboutwasmydistraction.Iwould’vecaughtontohimsoonerhaditnotbeenforStella.
I’dhadatinyinklingsincetheDeaconandBeatrixaccounts,whichheworkedcloselyon,butI’dbrusheditoffinlieuofmoreimportantmatters.
“AtleastSentinelappreciateswhatI’mdoingforthem,andIgottoseeyou
broughtdownanotch.It’sbeenfunplayingspy.Sabotagingyoufromtheinsideandyoudidn’tevenknowitbecauseyouweresocaughtupwithyourfuckinggirlfriendwhileIkeptthecompanyrunning.”Kage’ssmileicedover.“Youhaven’ttreatedmelikeafriendinalongtime,Christian.Youtreatmelikeadumblackeyyoucanjustorderaround.Likeyouwouldn’tbelyingdeadwithabulletinyourheadifIhadn’tsavedyourass.”
Thememoryflickeredinfrontofmyeyes.
Colombia,tenyearsago.ThingsgotmessywithanarmsdealerandI’dfoundmyselfinthemiddleofashootout.
Istillrememberedtheswelteringheat,therapid-firegunshotspepperedwithshouts,andtheforceofKageyankingmeoutofthewaymillisecondsbeforeabulletpiercedthebackofmyhead.
He’dbeenguardingacorruptlocalbusinessman,andwe’dshotourwayoutofanimpossiblesituation.
Nowherewewere,adecadelater,onthebrinkofanothershootout.
MyeyeswereonKage’s,butmyattentionwaslaseredinonthebulgeinhiswaistbandandthepressofmygunbetweenmyhipandthesmallofmyback.
“Personalispersonal,businessisbusiness,”Isaidcoolly.“Whenwe’reworking,youareanemployee
.”
Kage’seyetwitchedagain.
“IassumetheDeaconandBeatrixaccountswerealsoyourdoing.”
“Ididwhathadtobedone.SentinelwasgettingantsyafterMagda
turnedouttobeadud.”Heraisedaneyebrow.“Don’tsupposeyou’lltellmewhat’ssospecialaboutthatpaintingafterall?”
“Keepitamystery.Makeslifemoreinteresting.Thequestionnow,ofcourse…”Myvoicesoftened.“Iswhattodowithyou.”
Ididnottoleratetraitors.Ididn’tcareiftheywerefriends,family,orsomeonewhosavedmylife.
Oncetheycrossedthatline,theyhadtobedealtwith.
SilencepulsedforanextrabeatbeforeKageandIpulledourgunsandfiredatthesametime.
Gunshotsexploded,followedbytheclangofmetalstrikingmetal.
Iduckedbehindtherustedskeletonofacar,myheartdrumming,mypulsealivewithadrenaline.
Icouldeasilyendhimwithoneshot.Hisaimwasgood;minewasbetter.
Oneshot,however,wastooeasyforsuchabigbetrayal.
Iwantedittohurt.
“You’renotgoingtokillme,”Kagecalledout.Isawhisreflectioninthewindowsofthecaroppositeme.He’dtakencoverbehindatrucknearwhere’dbeenstanding,buthisgunandasliverofhisjeanspeekedoutfrombehindtheoldmetalframe.“Nothere.Iknowyou.You’reprobablythinkingupwaysyoucantorturemerightnow.”
Ididn’ttakethebait.Iwasn’tgoingtoshoutacrossajunkyardlikesomeB-listactorinanactionmovie.
Myphonebuzzedwithanewtext.
Iwould’veignoreditgivenmycurrent…distraction,butawarninginstincttuggedatmysenses.
Something’swrong.
Iflickedmyeyesdownatthescreenforamillisecond.
Brock:23,DistrictCafe
Mybrainautomaticallytranslatedthecompanycodeintoafullmessagegiventhecontext.
Incapacitated,needeyesonStellaASAP.We’reatDistrictCafe.
PaniclikeI’dneverknowncoiledmyspineandspikedinmyblood.
SomethinghappenedtoStella.
Hedidn’tsayit,butIfelt
it.Thesamewarninginstinctthat’dcompelledmetocheckmytextsinthemiddleofagoddamnedgunfightrangthealarmssoloudtheynearlydrownedoutKage’svoice.
“It’snotgoingtohappen,”hecontinued.Hisvoicewasharshwithexcitementandatingeofregret.“Onlyoneofusismakingitoutofherealive,andit’snotgoingtobeyou.”
Imademydecisioninaninstant.
“That’swhereyou’rewrong.”Isteppedoutfrombehindthecarframe.
Kagelefthishidingplaceandaimedhisgunatme,butIpulledthetriggerbeforehecouldfire.
Thegunshotechoedintheemptyjunkyard,followedbythreeothers.
Onetohischest,onetohishead,andonetoeachkneecapincasehesurvivedandfoolishlydecidedtocontinuethefight.
Hestaggered,thentoppledtotheground.
IkeptmygunaimedathimasIwalkedover.ThesoftrustleofgrassgavewaytothecrunchofgraveluntilIstoodoverhim.
Eyesblankandwideopen,mouthagape.Bloodpooledbeneathhiminagrowingpuddleandstainedthegroundwithdarkcrimson.
Ididn’thavetocheckhispulsetoknowhewasdead.
Adecadetogethergoneinminutes,allbecausehe’dresentedmeforhischoices.
IsteppedoverKage’sdeadbodyandreturnedtomycar.
Ididn’thavethetimeorcapacityformoresentimentality.Anyonewhobetrayedmewasdeadtome,literallyandfiguratively.
Bythetimesomeone,ifanyone,foundKage,hisbodywould’vebeenpickedapartbywildanimals.
Kurtzwastheonlypersonwhomightbeaproblem,buthewouldn’tsayadamnthing.AdeadKagewasuselesstohim,andhewouldn’triskhisownnecktopointpoliceintherightdirection.
SinceIwasKage’semployer,Iwouldhavetofigureoutagoodstorytotelltheauthoritiesandtherestofthecompany,butthatwouldn’ttakelong.I’dfigureoutthedetailslater.
23.
Brock’smessagereplayedinmyheadasIgunneditoutofthejunkyard.Mypanicspikedagain,mixedwithahealthydoseoffear.
WhenIhitthemainroad,I’dalreadyforgottenallaboutKage.
TheonlythingthatmatteredwasStella.48
CHRISTIAN
Mywarninginstincts
fromearlierclangedlouderthecloserIgottothecafe,andtheycurdledintodreadwhenIarrivedtofindBrockpukinghisgutsoutinthebathroom.
TherewasnoStellainsight.
Hemanagedtooutlinethebasicsofwhathappenedbeforehewentbacktoheavingoverthetoilet.
Ididn’tbotherinterrogatinghimfurther.Everysecondcounted,andhewasinnoshapetostand,muchlessspeak
Instead,Iwentstraighttothecounter,mybloodlikeicewaterinmyveins,anddemandedtoseethesecurityfootagefromthepasttwohours.
Fiveminutesofspluttersandtediousprotestslater,thecafemanagerpulledupsaidfootageinhiscrampedbackoffice.
MyheartthrummedasIwatchedthegrainyscenesplayoutonscreen.
StellaandBrockentered.Theyplacedanorderatthecounterandsatatseparatetablesbeforeherfamilyarrived
Despitethegravityofthesituation,Ifeltapinprickofprideatthewayshetookcontroloftheconversation.Icouldn’thearwhattheyweresaying,butIcouldreadtheirbodylanguage.
Afterherfamilyleft,Brockapproachedheragain,buthisstepswereshakierthanwhenhe’dentered.HeandStellahadaquickexchangebeforeherushedofftothebathroom.Aminutelater,shestoodandswayedthensatbackdown.Herfacewaspale,andshelookedlikeshewashavingtroublebreathing.
Myknucklesturnedwhiteagainstthebackofthemanager’schair.
Someonehadtohavedruggedher.Thatwasthesimplest,mostplausibleexplanation.
Theurgetostepinsidethescreenandcomforther,thenpulverizethebastardwho’ddonethattoher,overwhelmedme.
Stellastoodagainandstumbledtowardthedoor.Shewasrightbytheexit,andsheonlymadeitafewfeetbeforesomeonecameupbehindher.
Mysenseswentonhighalert.
Istaredatthefigure.Tall,baseballcap,darkjacket.
Theypausedbytheexit,thenleftatthesametime.
Icouldn’tseethefullscopeofwhathappenedduetotheangle,butthewaythefigure’sshouldersshifted,thejacketinthemiddleofsummer,thecarefulwayhekepthisfaceturnedawayfromthecamera…
Hehadagun.Iwassureofit.
IwasalsosureI’dseenthatjacketbefore.
Mypulseroaredwithlethalcertainty.
“Rewindthetape,”Iordered.“Stop.”
ThevideopausedwhereStellaandBrockplacedtheirorders.Thesamefigurestoodnexttothematthecounter.HepaidforhisdrinkincashanddrummedhisfingersuntilBrockturnedhisbacktosaysomethingtoStella.
Whathappenednexttookonlyafewseconds.
Acasualreachinsidehisjacket,aquicktapofwhatlookedliketwotinypacketsintoStella’sandBrock’smugs,andareturntodrinkinghiscoffee.
Hewasfast.
He’dalsoslippedup.
Whenheturnedhisheadtofaceforwardagain,Icaughtaglimpseofhisprofile.I’dseenitbeforeduringtwoseparatebackgroundchecks.
Motherfucker.
Allthepiecesclickedintoplace.
HowhegotintotheMirage.Whytherehadbeennoevidenceofhimleavingthebuilding.HisconnectiontoStella.
Ididn’tbotherthankingthemanagerorgettingBrock,whowasstillincapacitatedinthebathroom.
Instead,Isentoutacodeblacktothecompanyalongwiththestalker’snameandinstructionstofindhimandStellaassoonaspossible.
Reservedforextremeemergencies,thecodeblackalertrecalledallagentsintheareaforanewassignment.
Ihadneveronceusedituntilnow.
Ifthestalkerhadbeensmartenoughtoevadedetectionthislong,hewassmartenoughnottoturnonhiscellphoneorusehispersonalcar.
Still,wehadtheinformationnecessarytotrackhimdown.
Ionlyhopedthat,whenwedid,itwasn’ttoolate.49
STELLA
Aprickle
ofsensationdraggedmefromthedark,murkywellsofunconsciousness.
Itstartedasatingleinmyfingersandtoes.Thenitwasthehardpressofwoodbeneathmythighs.Finally,itwastheroughabrasionofropesaroundmywristsandapoundingpainbehindmyeyes.
TheonlytimesI’dbeentiedupwerewithChristian,butthat’dbeenconsensual.This…Ididn’tknowwhat
thiswas.
AllIknewwas,ithurt,andmythroatwasdry,andmyheadthrobbedlikesomeonehadshovedajackhammerorteninthere.
Concreteanchorsdraggeddownmylids.Thedarknesswasn’tsoftandgentlelikethegradualdrifttosleep.Itwasendlessandmenacing,liketheweightoftheearthafterbeingburiedalive.
Iforcedmylungstoexpandpastmyrisingpanic.
Breathe.Think.Whathappened?
Istruggledtosortthroughtheday’sevents.
Irememberedmeetingmyfamilyatthecafe.Brockrunningtotherestroom.Nausea,dizziness,stumblingoutforair…andthecoldpressofagunagainstmyribcage.Avoice,thenblackness.
OhGod.
I’dbeenkidnapped.
Therealizationsankinwithcold,sharpclaws.
Thedesiretosinkintopanicconsumedme,butIgrittedmyteethandforcedmyselftostayinthepresent.
Iwasnot
dyinglikethis.Iwasn’tdyingatall.Notforavery,verylongtime.
Ipriedmyeyesopenthroughsheerforceofwill.Dizzinesswarpedmyvisionbeforemysurroundingstookshape.
Iwasinsomesortoframshacklecabinmadeofcorrugatedmetalandwood.Athickfilmofgrimecoatedthewindowsandmutedthesunlightscatteredonthefloor.TherewasnofurnitureotherthanthechairIwasboundtoandalopsidedtablethatheldalengthofropeand,almostlaughably,atakeoutcontaineroffood.
Bilecoatedmythroat.
WherewasI?Judgingbythelight,ithadn’tbeenlongsinceIwasknockedout,whichmeantwecouldn’thavegonetoofar.
“You’reawake.”
Myheadwhippedtowardthefamiliarvoice,andasecondboutofdizzinesswashedoverme.
Whenitcleared,thebilethickened.
Iknewwhythevoicewassofamiliar
“No.”Thecroaksoundedpatheticallyweak.
Juliansmiled.“Surprised?”
D.C.’smostcelebratedlifestylejournalistlookeddifferentoutsidetheglossyconfinesofhisWashingtonWeekly
headshotandtheonetimewe’dmetinperson.
It’dbeenformyprofilephotoshoot,andhe’dbeennice.Unassuming.
He’dbeenevennicerduringthedozenorsotimeswespokeonthephone.
ButnowthatIlookedcloser,Ispottedthemadglintinhiseyesandtheunnaturalnessofhissmile.
Itwasthesmileofapsychopath.
Mypulsejackknifed.
“Ithoughtyoumightbe.”Juliansmoothedahandoverthefrontofhisshirt.“Youdon’trememberme,doyou?”
“You’reawriterforWashingtonWeekly.”
Mytonguefeltthickinmymouth.
Hemust’veslippedsomethinginmydrinkatthecafe.Whateveritwas,itseffectslingeredandcloudedtheedgesofmyconsciousness.
“Obviously.”Icould’veswornherolledhiseyes.“Beforethat,
Stella.WehadaclasstogetheratThayer.CommunicationsTheorywithProfessorPittman.Yousattwoseatsinfrontofmeandtomyright.”Asmileofreminiscenceappeared.“Ilikedthatclass.ItwaswhereIfirstsawyou.”
Thayer.CommunicationsTheory.
Quickflashesofaquietblondboysittinginthebackoftheclassfilteredthroughmymind’seye,butI’dtakenthatclassyears
ago.Ibarelyrememberedwhattheprofessorlookedlike,muchlessmyclassmates.
“Ididn’ttellyouduringourmanylovelychats.Iwantedtoseeifyouremembered.”Hissmilecollapsedintoafrown.“Youdidn’t,butthat’sokay.Iwasadifferentpersonbackthen.Lesssuccessful,lessworthyofyou.ItoldyouhowIfeltwithmyletters,butIhadtomakesomethingofmyselfbeforeIknewyou’dacceptme.It’swhyIdidn’tcontactyouearlier.Butnow…”Hespreadhisarms.“Wecanfinallybetogether.”
“Betogether?Youkidnappedme!
”
Icouldn’twrapmyheadaroundwhathewassaying.Thesituationwastoosurreal.
“Yes,aboutthat.I’msorryIhadtoknockyouout,butitmadethingseasier.”Apologyenteredhisvoice.“Iwoulduntieyoutoo,butIcan’tdothatuntilwefixyou.”
Thescenewasgrowingmoresurrealbythesecond.“Whatareyoutalkingabout?”
“ChristianHarper.”Thenamedrippedwithsomuchaciditburnedinthebackofmythroat.“Youthinkyou’restillinlovewithhim.Icanseeitinyoureyes.”
OhGod.Christian.
Thefullimportofwhatwashappeninghitme.
Julianwasclearlyoffhisrocker,andhehadmetiedupinthemiddleofGodknowswhere.Icouldtrytoescape,butIhadnocar,andIwasstillwoozyfrombeinghitoverthehead.
TherewasastrongpossibilityIwouldneverseeChristian,myfriends,ormyfamilyagain.
Panicclimbedhigherinmychest,butIforceditbackdown.
I’llfigureoutaplan
.Ihadto.
Untilthen,IneededtokeepJuliantalkinginsteadofdoing…whateverelsehehadplannedforme.
Mystomachlurched.“I’mnotdatingChristiananymore.”
God,IwishIwere.
IwishedIwasinhisapartmentrightnow,makingtacoswhileheteasedmeaboutputtingtoomuchcheeseonmineandgrumbledwhenIansweredmysocialmediamessagesinsteadofpayingattentiontohim.
Hottearspooledonmylowerlids.
“Ididn’tsayyouwerestilldatinghim,”Juliansnapped.“Isaidyou’restillunderthedelusionthatyoulovehim!
”
Hisvoiceescalatedbeforehetookadeepbreathandsmoothedahandoverhisshirtagain.
“It’sokay.It’snotyourfault,”hesaidsoothingly.“Hedeceivedyou.Trickedyouintofallingforthelooksandmoney.Butwe’re
theoneswhoaresupposedtobetogether.I’veknownthatsinceIfirstsawyou.Idreamedaboutyouafterthatfirstdayofclass,youknow.”
Anothersmiletookoverhisface.“Idreamedweweremarriedandlivinginalittlecabininthewoods.Wehadtwokids.Iworkedallday,andwhenIcamehome,youwerewaitingforme.Itwasbeautiful.I’dneverdreamedaboutagirlbefore.Ifthat’snotasignfromGod,whatis?”
Adream?
I’dgonethroughhellbecauseofafreakingdream?
Breathe.
Staleairscrapedagainstmylungs.
“There’snoonemorebeautifulthanyouare,Stella.Youwerealwayssoquietandnicetome,evenwheneveryoneelseignoredormadefunofme.YouhavethequalitiesI’mlookingforinawife.You’reperfectforme.”
Iwasn’tthesamepersonI’dbeenincollege,butitwasclearhedidn’tseemeasmyownperson.Heonlysawmeasatrophy,somethinghecouldown.
“Howdidyougetallthosepicturesofme?”ImovedmyhandsbehindmeasmuchasIdared,searchingforsomething,anything,
Icouldusetobreaktherope.“Howdidyoubreakintomyapartment?”
MybreathhikedwhenIhitwhatfeltahard,sharpprotrusiononthebackofthechair.Itfeltlikeanail.
ThechairwassooldIwouldn’tbesurprised.Honestly,Ididn’tcarewhat
itwas.Ionlycaredwhetheritcouldfraytheropesenoughformetofreemyself.
IkeptmyeyesonJulianasIworkedmybindingoverthenailasdiscreetlyaspossible.
“I’vealwaysbeengoodatdiggingintopeople.Journalismmajor,youknow.Plus,Iblendinwiththecrowd.Makesiteasytofollowsomeonewithoutthemknowing.Asforyourapartment…”Juliangrinned.“That’sthebestpart!IhaveanapartmentintheMirageaswell.Mygrandmotherpasseditontomeaftershedied.Idon’tlivetherefulltime,butIhavethekeys.We’repracticallyneighbors.Iwassoupsetwhenyoudidn’tnoticemetheonetimewesharedanelevator,butyouweretoobusylookingatyourphone.”Heletoutasnort.
Ikeptquiet.Iwastoofocusedonmytask.
Luckily,Julianlikedtomakeaproductionofhisstory,pacingandgesticulatingashetoldmewhathedid.
Everytimeheturnedhisback,Iworkedfaster,thenslowedwhenhefacedmeagain.
Sweatbeadedfrommyefforts,buttheropehadloosenedenoughthatitnolongerdugintomyskin.
Justalittlemore…
“Itwashardertohackintothesurveillancesystem,butIhadhelpforthat.IhiredSentinelSecurity.They’reHarper’sbiggestcompetitor,andIfiguredthey’dtakeanyopportunitytotakehimdownapeg.Iwasright.TheygavemesomefancydeviceIcoulduse,andtherestishistory.”
Hestoppedinfrontofme.
Ifroze,prayinghedidn’tlookovermyheadandbehindmyback.
“Ididallthatforyou,
Stella.BecauseIloveyou.IonlywishIhadn’tleftyoufortwoyears.Unfortunately,Ihadtogobackhomeandtakecareofmygrandmother.”Hesoundedannoyed.“Shewastheonewholeftmetheapartmentandallthemoneywecouldneed.Shewasbigonrealestate,andsincemyparentsdied,Igoteverything.”
“YoustarteddatingHarperwhileIwasgone,whichwasn’tverynice.”Disapprovalformedadeepcreaseinhisbrow.“ButI’mback,andyou’reoutofthatasshole’shouse.IhadtolaylowforawhileafterIreturned,youknow.Couldn’triskHarpertrackingmedown.Thegoodpartis,Ihadtimetoplanallthisout.”
Juliankneltandsmoothedmyhairoutofmyface.“Wecanfinallybetogetherafter
wefixyou.Idon’tthinkit’lltakelong,though.Afewweekswithmeandyou’llsee.We’remeanttobetogether.”
Hebeamed.
Asickfeelingballoonedinmystomach.
Hewasdelusional.Beyond
delusional.
Hesaidhelovedme,butwhathewasdoingwasn’tlove.
LovewasacceptingmeforwhoIwas,flawsandall.
LovewasbelievinginmeevenwhenIdidn’tbelieveinmyself.
Lovewasquietmomentsandsoftkisses,breathlessexhilarationandroughhandsallrolledintoone.
LovewaswhatChristiangaveme.
He’dcrossedboundariesandkeptsecrets,buthewouldneverdothis
.Hewouldneverdrugmeorintentionallyhurtme.
IknewIshouldplayalonguntilIcouldescape,buteventhethoughtofpretendingtowanttobewithJulianmademewanttovomit.
“Julian…”Ilookedhimintheeye
Hesmiled,hisfacebrightwithsickanticipation.
“Iwouldratherdiethanbewithyou.”
IheadbuttedhimashardasIcould.
Hishowlofpainricochetedthroughthecabin.
Lightswashedacrossmyvisionattheforceoftheimpact,butIdidn’thavetimetowaste.IslammedmywristsdownashardasIcouldbehindmeuntilthefrayedropesnappedagainsttheprotrusion.
Luckily,Julianhadn’ttiedmylegs,andIstumbledtothedoor.Ialmostmadeitbeforestronghandsyankedmeback.
Ihitthefloorwithathud
Julianpinnedmetothegroundandmanacledmywristsabovemyhead.
“Letgoofme!”Istruggledagainsthishold.
“You’remine,”hesaidcalmly,likewewereatapicnicintheparkandhewasn’tholdingmehostage.“It’llbesomucheasierifyougivein,Stella.Idon’twanttohurtyou.”
Icouldn’tkeepstrugglingforever.Myenergywasalreadyfading,mymusclessoreandmythoughtsjumbledwithpanic.
Iturnedmyheadafractiontotheright,andmybreathhitchedwhenIsawmypurselyingafewfeetaway.
Mytaser.
Ialwayskeptitonme.IfIcouldonlyreachit…
Julianfollowedmygazeandchuckled.“Oh,don’tworryaboutyourtaser.Itookthebatteriesout.I—”Hissentencecutoffwithanother,moreanimalistichowlwhenItookadvantageofhisdistraction,sankmyteethintohisneck,andtore.
Thewet,sickeningsoundoffleshtearingrippedthroughtheair.
Hisgripslackened.Ishovedhimofftocrawltowardtheentrance.
Ididn’tlookbehindme.Mystomachturnedatthemetallicbloodinmymouth,butIdidn’thavetimetodwellonmydisgust.
Ireachedforthedoorknobandusedittopullmyselfup…
AscreamoffrustrationscrapedupmythroatwhenJuliandraggedmebackagain.Heslammedmeface-firstintothewallnexttothedoor.
Painexplodedinmyhead.MyvisioncrackledandfizzedlikethestaticonanoldTV.
“Youdisappointme,Stella.”MenacetwistedJulian’sgruntintosomethingdarkandsinister.Thebloodfromhisneckwounddrippedontomyskinandburnedlikeacid.“Iwastryingtobenice.Ithoughtyouunderstood.IfIcan’thaveyou…”Thepressofhisgunagainsttheundersideofmychinsentanicysplashoffeardownmyspine.“Noonecan.”
Iletoutasmallcrywhenhewrenchedmyheadback.Thegunwascold,buthisbreathswerehotandsinisteragainstmyneck.
“Maybeyou’rebeyondsaving.You’vebeenruined.Butthat’sokay.Wecanbetogetherinournextlife.”Hekissedmyneck.Ashiverofdisgustrippleddownmyspine.“We’resoulmates.Soulmatesalwaysfindtheirwaybacktoeachother.”
Hecockedthegun.
Painandterrordissolvedintonumbness.Iclosedmyeyes,notwantingthiscabintobethelastthingIsawbeforeIdied.
MybreathsslowedasImentallyretreatedtomysafestplace.
Whiskeyeyes.Warmmurmurs.Leatherandspice.
Silenttearsdrippedmycheeks.
Timeslowedassnippetsofmylifepassedthroughmymind.DressingupasBratzdollswithmyfriendsforHalloween,assemblingpuzzleswithMaura,familyvacationstothebeach,postingmyfirstblogpost,callswithBradyandafternoonsincafesandphotoshootsbythewater…andChristian.
OfallthepeopleI’dmissmost,hetookthetopspot.
Iloveyou.
Aloudgunshotrattledmyeardrums.
Iflinchedandwaitedfortheburstofpain,butitnevercame.
Instead,Iheardtheslamofadoor,followedbyshoutsandaviolentrushofairasJulian’sbodywasyankedoffmine.
Myeyesflewopen,andIwatched,stunned,ashalfadozenmenpouredintothecabinwithgunsinhand.
OneofthemsubduedJulianeasilywhiletheotherssweptthespace.
EverythinghappenedsoquicklyIwasstillstandingbythedoorwhenawarm,familiarpresencetouchedthesideofmyneck.
Itcan’tbe.
ButwhenIturned,therehewas.
Darkhair.Brighteyes.Facecarvedwithcold,pitilessrage.
Christian.
Mytrappedsobfinallybrokefree.
AsangryasI’dbeenwhenI’dfoundthefiles,andasmuchashe’dbetrayedmytrustinthepast,therewasnooneI’dratherseeatthatmomentthanhim.
“Stella.”Reliefsoftenedtherazoredgesofhisfury.
Hesaidmynamelikeaprayer,awhispersorawandheartfeltitobliteratedanyresistanceImight’vehad.
Ididn’tthink.Ididn’tspeak.
Ijustcrossedtheroomandcrumpledintohisarms.50
CHRISTIAN
She’shere.
She’ssafe.
IrepeatedthewordsinmyheadasIheldStellatight.
Tinyshiversrippledthroughherbody,andeventhoughshewasalmostastallasme,shefeltfragile.Breakable.
Fierceprotectivenessburnedinmychest.
“It’sallright,sweetheart,”Imurmured.“You’reokay.You’resafe.”
Sheburiedherfacedeeperinmyneck,hersoftsobstwistingmyheartlikeawrung-outrag.
Iwasholdingheragainforthefirsttimeinweeks,butthiswasn’thowI’dwantedittobe.
Notwithherbruised,hurt,andterrified.
ThereliefI’dfeltatseeingheralivegavewaytorenewedrage.
MycoldgazefoundJulianoverStella’sshoulder.
Heglaredbackatme,hiseyesfilledwithhatred,buthedidn’tsayawordasSteeleandMasonsecuredhimwithrestraints.
I’drecognizedJulian’sfacefromhisWashingtonWeekly
bio.IalsorecognizeditfromthebackgroundcheckI’drunonhisgrandmotherwhenshefirstboughtherapartmentattheMirage.Aftershedied,thepropertypassedtohim.
Ididn’tinvolvemyselfinthemundanedetailsoftenantturnover,soIhadn’tconnectedthatdetail.
Nowonderthere’dbeennoevidenceofhimleavingtheMirageafterhebrokeintoStella’sapartment.He’dbeeninsideitthewholetime.
“Keephimalive,”Isaid.“I’lldealwithhimpersonally.”
Iwantedthepleasureoftearingthebastardapartmyself.
However,aglimmerofpridesparkedinmychestwhenIsawthenastywoundonhisneck.Stellamust’vetakenachunkoutofhimbeforewearrived.
That’smygirl.
Steelenodded.“Yougotit.”
We’dtrackedJuliandownviathecreditcardhe’dusedforhiscarrental,thentrackedthecartothisshittasticcabinintheVirginiawoods.Thecar’sbuilt-inGPSmadethateasy.
Ihadn’twantedtotakeanychances,soI’dcalledinahandfulofmentoaccompanymeanddispatchedanothertogetBrock.
Julianmust’vedruggedhimandStellawithdifferentsubstances—onetoincapacitateBrockandgethimoutoftheroom,theothertodisorienther.
Iwantednothingmorethantoflayhimalive,butStellatookpriority.
Irubbedahandoverherback.“We’llcheckintoahotelandgetyoucleanedup,”Imurmured.“Ihaveadoctorwhocanmeetusthereandtakealookatyourwounds.”
Ihatedhospitals.Allthatfuckingpaperworkandlaxsecurity.Itwaseasiertotakecareofhermyself.
Whenshegaveatiny,silentnod,Ileftmymentodealwiththemessinthecabinandgentlyguidedherintomycar.
Myangerflaredagainatthesightofhercutsandbruisesinbrightdaylight,butItampeditdown.
Later.
OnceImadesureshewasokay,IcouldtakeallthetimeIwanteddismantlingJulian.
Stelladidn’tspeakasIpulledawayfromthecabin.
Iwantedtotakeherbacktomyapartment,butIdidn’twanttoviolatetheboundariesshe’destablishedduringourbreakup.
However,whenwearrivedatthenearestdecenthotel,shedidn’tbudgefromthecar.
Shestaredattheentrance,herknuckleswhitearoundherknees.
“Canwegotoyourhouseinstead?”sheaskedquietly.“Iwanttobesomewheresafe.”
Myheartroaredtolife,butIkeptmyvoiceeven.“Ofcourse.”
Dr.AbelsonwasalreadywaitingforuswhenwearrivedattheMirage.Hewastechnicallyretired,butoneofmyclientshadreferredmetohimyearsagowhenI’dmentionedneedingaprivate,discreetdoctor.
Apparently,Abelsonneededsomethingotherthangolfandtelevisiontopassthetimeduringretirement.
Ididn’tneedtheotherresidentsaskingquestions,soItookusthroughthebackentranceuptomypenthouse.
Ihadaspecialroomsetasideformedicaltreatment,andIwatchedimpatientlyasAbelsonintroducedhimselftoStellaandcheckedherinjuries.
“Issheokay?”Idemandedafteraninterminablelengthoftimethatwasinrealitylessthanthirtyminutes.
“Shehasafewcutsandbruises,plusamildconcussion,butshe’llbefine,”hesaid.“Nothingtimeandrestwon’theal.”
Thediagnosisshould’veplacatedme,butallIfocusedonwasthewordconcussion.
ImentallyaddedanotherfifteenminutestomytimewithJulian.
“I’lldoit,”Isaidwhenhemovedtobandageoneofhercuts.“Youcanleave.Thankyou.”
Otherthanasmallliftofhiseyebrows,Abelsondidn’treacttomyrequest.
“DoIwanttoknowwhathappened?”heaskedashepackedhisbag.Hekepthisvoicelow
Stellasatonthefarsideoftheroom.She’dbeensilentduringherexamination,butthatdidn’tmeanshecouldn’thearus.
“No.”Hewasoncalltohandlemedicalissues,butIkepthimoutofthelooponhow,exactly,thoseissuesarose.
“That’swhatIfigured.”Heshookhishead.“Callmeifanycomplicationsarise.Idon’tanticipatetheywill,butyouhavemynumber.”
ThatwaswhyIlikedAbelson.Hewasdiscreet,competent,anddidn’taskunnecessaryquestions.
Afterheleft,IfinishedbandagingStella’scuts.
ThetipsofmyfingersskimmedherskinasIgentlypressedthebandagesoverherwounds.Thesteadyhumoftheairconditionermingledwithoursoftbreaths,andanelectriccurrentwoundmymusclestightuntilIfinishedmyministrations.
“Ifyou’rehungry,Icanmakeusfood,”Isaid.
Sheshookherhead.“Ijustwanttoshowerandsleep.”
Ididn’targue.Instead,Iguidedhertothehallwayandstoppedbetweentheguestroomandmybedroom.
Ishouldn’task.Iknewitmightcrossboundariesagain,andthatshemightnotbeready.ButIhadtotry.
“Staywithme.”Isoftenedthewordsintoarequest,notanorder.“Justfortonight.Please.”
Wewereinthesafetyofmypenthouse,butitwasn’tenough.
I’dalmostlosther,andIneededherclose.
Ineededtoseeher,touchher,comforther.Reassuremyselfshewasactuallythereandnotafigmentofmyimagination.
OnlythencouldIbreathe.
Aneternityofasecondpassed,followedbyasmallnod,sweetrelief,andtheclick
ofmybedroomdoorclosingbehindus.
StellaandItookturnsshowering.
She’dmovedallherbelongingsintoAva’shouse,soIgaveheroneofmyoldshirtstowear.
Thesightofherinmyclothingtuggedatmyheart.
Itdidn’tmeansheforgavemeorthatwewerebacktogether.She’dgonethroughatraumatizingexperience,andheractionsnowweren’tindicativeofherregularbehavior.
Butitwasprogress,andI’dtakeanythingIcouldget.
“Howdidyoufindme?”sheaskedasIslidintobednexttoher.
She’dregainedsomeofhercoloraftertheshower,andshewasmakingconversationagain.
Moreprogress.
Anothertingleofreliefeasedmytension.
“Brocktextedme,andIsawhimonthecafe’ssecurityfootage.”Igaveheraquickrundownofwhathappened,leavingoutthepartaboutKageandthejunkyard.
“Willhebeokay?”
Stellawould
beworriedaboutsomeoneelsewhenshewastheonewho’dbeenabducted.
Thecornerofmymouthkickedup.“Yes.He’llbefinewithsomerest.”
“Good.”Shehalffacedmewithonehandtuckedbeneathhercheek.
Despitewhatshe’dsaidaboutwantingtosleep,sheseemedreluctanttodoso.
“Talktome,Butterfly.What’sonyourmind?”
“Well,I’vehadanexcitingday.”
Anothersmilecrossedmylips.Jokes,nomatterhowdry,werealwaysagoodsign.
“ButIdon’twanttotalkaboutwhathappenedrightnow.”Sheshiftedsoshefacedmefully.“Tellmeastory.”
“Afairytale?”Iteased.
Sheshookherhead.“Somethingreal.”
Ithoughtaboutitbeforemysmilegraduallyfaded.“Howrealdoyouwant,Stella?”
“Asrealasitgets.”Hervoicesoftened.“Tellmeastoryaboutyou.”
IwasquietforamomentbeforeIspokeagain.
“Itoldyouaboutmyfatherandhowmyparentsdied.WhatIdidn’ttellyouwaswhatmymomleftbehind.”Thewordscameoutfaded,likefurniturewebbedwithdustafterbeinghiddenforsolong.“Itwasagoodbyenote.”
Thepolicefounditonthescene.Myaunthadn’twantedmetoseeit,butI’dinsisted.
Istillrememberedhowitsmelled,likeinkandmymom’sfavoriteperfume.Myskinhadstillbeenwarmfromtheafternoonsun,butIhadn’tbeenabletostopshiveringwhenIreadthenote.
“Shetoldmehowmuchshelovedmeanddidn’twanttoleaveme,butthatshehadnochoice.Thatshecouldn’tlivewithoutmyfatherandthathersisterwouldtakecareofme.”
Abittersmiletouchedmylips.“Imaginetellingyourchildyouloved
thembeforeyouleftthemallaloneintheworld.Knowingthey’dlosetheonlyparenttheyhadleftbecauseyoucouldn’tstickaroundlongenoughtoeventry?
It’dbeentwodays.Thatwasit.Iwasn’tsadwhenIreadthatletter,Stella.Iwasangry,
andIwasgladaboutthat,becauseangeriseasierthanabandonment.”
“Butmymomalsoleftsomethingelsebehind.Heroneattemptatpainting.Shelovedart,butshewasaterribleartist,andevenmyfathercouldn’tlieandtellheritwasgood.Weputitinthebasement,butaftershedied,Idugitupandheldontoit.Ididn’tknowwhy.MaybebecauseIresentedwhatarthaddonetomyfamily,andIlikedseeingitsuglinessandchaosimmortalizedoncanvas.Ihadhernoteaswell,andwhenIwasolder,Ireworkedtheframeandplaceditinsidethepainting.Themostfuckeduppartwas,Inameditafterher.Magda
.”
“Yes,”IsaidwhenStella’seyeswidened.“ThesameMagda
youheardmetalkingaboutwithDante.Ishould’vetossedboththepaintingandthenoteoutlongago,butIcouldn’tbringmyselftodoit.Itwasn’ttheitemsthemselves.Itwaswhattheysymbolized—whatmyparentsdidandhowtheyabandonedme.IhatedMagda
,yetshewasthemostimportantthinginmylife.EnoughsothatIhaditunderguard.Ievenforgeddocumentssayingit’sthispricelesspieceofartsonoonewouldquestionwhyIwasexpendingsomanyresourcesonit.”
Aroughlaughleftmythroat.“Itseemslikeastupidlyelaborateruseforsomethingsosimple,butthatpaintinghasalwaysfuckedmeup.Icouldneverletitgo.Thathideouspieceofartsymbolizedeverythingshelovedmorethanme.WheneverIseeit,Iseeher
.Iseehersittingdown,writingthatnote,thenblowingherbrainsout.”
Stellaflinchedatthevisualimagery,butIwastoofargonetostop.
“Iseemyselfsittinginmyclassroomwhentheprincipalcalledmeintohisoffice.Iseemyaunt’sfaceandthefuneralandthepityinglookseveryonegavemeaftershedied.Thetowndidn’tknowthetruthaboutmyfather;thebusinessmanhewasstealingfromdidn’twantanyextrapublicityaboutthecase,andhepaidofftheauthoritiestokeepthewholethingquiet.”
Iswallowedpastastrangelumpinmythroat.“Amother’sloveforherchildissupposedtobethegreatestloveofall.Yetitwasn’tenoughforhertostaywithme.”
Stellahadbeenquietthroughoutmystory,butnowshelookedatmewithathousandwordsinhereyes.
“Christian…”shebreathed,hervoicethickwithunshedtears.
Ituckedastraystrandofhairbehindherear.“Thisisn’tasobstory,Butterfly,”Isaidgruffly.“Don’tfeelbadforme.Igotoveritalongtimeago.”
Itwasaheavystorytotellgiventhedayshe’dhad,butshewantedreal.AndmyhistorywithMagda
wasasrealasitgot.
“Idon’tthinkyou’vegottenoverit,”shesaidsoftly.“Notifyou’restillholdingontoit.”
“Technically,Danteisholdingontoit.”Isidesteppedherobservation.
“Howdidhegetit?”
“Thepaintinggotstolen,thensoldinabunchofestatesales.”Ididn’tgetintothedirtydetailsaboutKage,Sentinel,andhow,inthemotherofallcoincidences,itlandedinJosh’shands.I’dfounditbeforeJoshboughtitandretrievedthenote,butI’dletthepainting’ssalesruntheircourseinordertotrackdownwhostoleit.I’dbeenrightaboutSentinelandwrongaboutAxel.“DanteactedasmyproxyandboughtitbacksinceIdidn’twantmorepeopleknowingaboutmyconnectiontoit.He’sholdingitathisplacewhileIfigureoutwhattodowithit.”
“Haveyou?”Stellaasked.“Figuredoutwhattodowithit?”
“Notyet.ButIwill.”
Welaythere,ourbreathsintertwininginthecompressedspacebetweenus.
Stellawasright.Ihadn’tgottenoverMagda.
I’dpushedittothebackofmymindbecauseofeverythingthathadhappenedthepastfewmonths,butIcouldstillfeelitsskeletalgrasponme.
Icoulddestroyit,orIcouldliveinitsstrangleholdforever.
Butthatwasadecisionforanotherday.
“CanItellyouasecret?”Stellawhispered.“WhenIwasinthecabin,andIthoughtIwasabouttodie…thepersonIthoughtaboutmostwasyou.”
Herwordsslicedmeopenanddugintomyheart—boththepartaboutheralmostdying,andthepartwhereshethoughtaboutme.
“I’mnotsayingI’monehundredpercentoverwhatyoudidbecauseI’mnot,”shesaid.“ButIalsounderstandkeepingthingssecretandnotknowinghowtotellthetruth.IalsorealizedIwaswrongwhenIcomparedyoutoJulian.Youwouldneverhurtmethewayhedid.And,tobehonest,I…”Stellavisiblyswallowed.“Imissedyou.”
Thecompressioninmychestloosened,andmymouthsoftenedinagenuinesmile.“Icanworkwiththat.”
“Also…”Aruddyflushspreadacrosshercheeks.“Imightbeabletoupthepercentageifyougivemeagoodnightkiss.”
Laughterrumbledinmychest.“Icandefinitely
workwiththat.”
Idrewhercloser.“Imissedyoutoo,”Iaddedsoftlybeforepressingagentlekisstohermouth.Icouldkissherforever,butIforcedmyselftopullbackafterthecountofthree.Nowwasn’tthetimeforahotandheavymakeupsession.“That’sallyou’regettingfornow.Youneedrest.”
Stellasighed.“Tease.”
Despitehergrumbling,shewasoutlikealightminuteslater.
Ituckedherclosertomychestand,afterweeksofrestlessnights,letthesoothingrhythmofherbreathsfinallylullmetosleep.51
STELLA
Islept
inuntilnoonthenextday.ItwasthelatestI’deverwokenup,butthepreviousday’seventshadtakentheirtoll.Evenafterasolidsixteenhoursofrest,fogginesscloudedmybrainasIwalkedtothekitchen.
Beingdruggedandkidnapped.Findingoutmyoldclassmateslashthereporterwho’dwrittenthatamazingprofileonmewasmystalker.Nearlydying,thengettingrescuedbyChristian,stayingthenightathishouse,andsortof/kindofmakingupwithhim.
I’dhadtimetoprocess,soitwaseasiertowrapmyheadaroundwhathappened,butyesterdaywassosurrealIstillfeltlikeIwaswalkingontheedgeofadream.
ItwasMonday,soI’dexpectedChristiantobeatwork.ButwhenIenteredthesun-splashedkitchen,Ifoundhimstandingbytheespressomachine,dressedinablackshirtandpantsinsteadofhisusualsuit.
Iblinkedwithsurprise.“You’rehere.”
“Itis
myhouse,”hesaiddryly.Henoddedatthearrayofcoveredplatesonthekitchenisland.“Nina’shereandmadebreakfast.Lemonricottapancakes,yourfavorite.”
Mystomachgrowledatthementionofbreakfast.I’dhadapastryforlunchandskippeddinneryesterday,soIwouldbehappywithany
kindoffood.
“Howareyoufeeling?”heasked,watchingasIdugintothepancakes.
God
,theseweregood.PossiblythebestpancakesI’deverhad.
“I’llsurvive.”Mymusclesachedandmyheadstillhurtabit,butitwasn’tanythingcritical.“Aren’tyousupposedtobeatwork?”
“I’mleavingsoon.”Christiansethiscoffeemuginthesink.“IhadtotellAvawhathappenedsinceshewasworriedwhenyoudidn’tcomehomelastnight.Shecorrectlyguessedyouwerewithme.”
Iwinced.I’dtotallyforgottentoletAvaknowIwasokay.
“ShetoldJules.”Histonedriedfurther.“Theyshouldbeheresoon.TheycankeepyoucompanywhileIdealwithJulian.”
“You’relettingthemintoyourhouse?Ithoughtyoudidn’tlikeguests.”
“Ifiguredyouwouldn’twanttobealone.”Christian’sfrowndeepened.“Ifthat’snotthecase,I’lltellthemnottocome.”
“No.It’sfine.It’llbegoodtoseethem.”Hewasrightaboutmenotwantingtobealone.
Seeingmyfriendswouldgivemeasenseofnormalcy,thoughIknewtheymustbefreakingout.
“WhatareyougoingtodowithJulian?”Iasked,sureIdidn’twanttoknowtheanswerbutwastoocuriousnottoask.
Ifitwereanyoneelse,I’dinsisttheyletthepolicehandleit.
However,tryingtoconvinceChristiantoturnacaseovertothecopswouldbefutile,andIdidn’thavethebestexperiencewiththepolice.
Withmyluck,Julianwouldweaselhiswayoutofaheavysentenceandbebackonthestreetsinafewmonths.
Christian’seyesdarkened.“Nothinghedoesn’tdeserve.”
Achillskateddownmyspineatthecalmlethalnessofhisresponse.Isuddenlywondered,onamoreviscerallevel,whyhewaswearingall-black,casualattireinsteadofasuit.
ChristianhadprovedhewasabettermanthanI’dexpected.
ButIknewwithsudden,blindingclaritythathewasalsocapableofworsethingsthanIcouldimagine.
Ourgazeslocked.Myheartbeatslowedbeneaththeweightofhisappraisal.
HeknewIknew,oratleastIhadaninkling.AndhewantedtoseeifIwouldcondemnhim.Trytostophim.
Myforkgrewcoldinmyhand.ButIdidn’tsayaword.
Thechimeofthedoorbellbrokethespell,andIinstinctivelyglancedtowardthelivingroom.
Ninamust’veansweredthedoorbecauseIheardthefaintsoundsofmyfriends’voicesfollowedbythepatteroffootsteps.
“Ifyouhavetimetoday…”Christian’squietvoicedrewmyattentionbacktohim.“Lookinthedrawerwhereyoufoundthefiles.There’ssomethingthereforyou.”
Theuncharacteristicuncertaintyinhistonesparkedaseedofcuriosityandsomethingwarmerthatslidthroughmelikemoltenhoney.
Myfriends’voicesgrewlouder.
Christianmovedtoleave,butIstoppedhimbeforehereachedthedoorway.
“Christian.”
Heturnedtolookbackatme.
“Don’tgivehimanypiecesofyoursoul,”Isaidsoftly.
Julianmadehisbed,anditwastimetolieinit.ButChristian…Ididn’twanthimdoinganythingthatwouldhaunthim,especiallyifitwasforme.
Especiallyifitwouldbreakanypartofhim.
“Oneofmyfavoritethingsaboutyou,”hesaid,hisvoicelikethedarkestofvelvets.“IsthatyouthinkIhaveanypiecesleft.”
Iwasstillstandinginthekitchenafterheleft,hispresenceacool,lingeringdraftinhiswake.
Ionlyhadafewsecondstobreatheinthesilencebeforemyfriendsspilledintotheroomandwrappedmeinacocoonofhugsandconcern.
“I’msorryIdidn’tcallyesterday,”Isaid,huggingAva.“Somuchhappened,anditcompletelyslippedmymind.”
“Iunderstand,”shereassuredme.“I’mjustgladyou’reokay.”
“WhatIdon’t
understand,”Julessaid.“Iswhyyou’reatChristian’shouse.Ithoughtyoubrokeup.Whatthehellhappened?”
What
didn’thappen?
“It’salongstory,”Isaid.“Youmightwanttositdownfirst…”
***
Twohours
andoneexhaustiverecountofmykidnappingandtheaftermathlater,Ifoundmyselfstaringatthreeslack-jawedstatues.Twoinperson,andoneonFaceTime,sinceBridgetwasinEldorrabutwouldmurdermeifIleftheroutofthelooponthis.
Apparently,ChristianhadmerelytoldAvaI’dhada“run-in”withmystalker,soninety-fivepercentofmystorycameasacompleteshocktothem.
Julesrecoveredfirst.
“Firstofall,Juliandeservesjail
.”Sheshookwithfury.“Secondofall,I’mgoing
tojailforwhatI’lldoifIevercomeacrosshim.Iwillcuthisballsoff,doyouhearme?I’llslicethemopenwithamacheteandshovethemdownhisthroatsohechokes—“
“Okay
,Ithinkwe’vehadenoughviolencefortheweek,”Avacutin.Worrycreasedherforehead.“Stel,areyousurehe’stakencareof?He’snotgoingtoescapeoranything?”
Ishookmyhead.“Idoubtit.HarperSecurityhashim.”
“WhataboutChristian?”Bridgetasked.Shewasinwhatlookedlikeheroffice,andagiantportraitofsomeoldEldorranmonarchglaredatmefrombehindher.“Doesthismeanyou’rebacktogether?”
“We’re…”Ihesitated.“Workingthingsout.”
“That’sgreat!”Ofallmyfriends,JuleswasthemostenthusiasticaboutChristian.Probablybecausehe’dloweredourrentsomuchwhenwemovedintotheMirage.“He’snotthatbadofaguy.Imean,sometimeshedoesbadthings.
Thosefilesweretotallynotokay,andyouhadeveryrighttobreakupwithhim.But
…”Hervoicesoftened.“Hereallylovesyou.”
Iswallowedpasttheknotofemotioninmythroat.“Iknow.”
Luckily,theconversationsoonmovedbacktosafergroundwithJulesdetailingallthecreativewaysshe’dmurderJulian(muchtoAva’schagrin).
Myfriends’companygroundedmebackinreality.
Whenlunchtimepassed,however,IgentlybutfirmlyinsistedthattheygoabouttherestoftheirdayandthatIdidn’tneedbabysitting.
Iappreciatedtheircompanyandconcern,butI’dexhaustedmysocialbatteryfortheday.Ineededalonetimetorecharge.
Thedoorclosedbehindthem,andIsuckedinabreathofsilence.
Ninawasalsogonefortheday,soitwasjustmeandtheemptypenthouse.
WhenIfirstmovedin,Ithoughtitwascoldandimpersonal,likeamodelshowroom.Now,beingherefeltlikereturninghome.
ThatwasthecouchwhereI’dcreatedmycollection,thoseweretheplantsI’dlovinglytendedtoformonths…
AndthatwastheofficewhereI’dfoundthefilesthatshattereditall.
Istoppedinfrontoftheentrance.Foronce,Christianhadleftthedooropen.
Ifyouhavetimetoday,lookinthedrawerwhereyoufoundthefiles.There’ssomethingthereforyou
Stayingawaywasimpossible.
MyheartbeatscollidedwitheachotherasIwalkedtohisdeskandtriggeredthesecretdrawermechanism.
Thecompartmentslidoutsoundlessly
IexperiencedatwingeofsurprisewhenIsawitscontents.
Insteadofblackbinders,thedrawerwasfilledwithletters.Therewereatleastadozenofthem,handwrittenonsimplecreamstationery.
IrecognizedChristian’sbold,elegantscrawlimmediately.
Iflippedthroughthem,myheartrateclimbingwitheverysheetthatcameintoview.
Theywerealladdressedtomeanddatedfromthedaywebrokeup.
Oneletterforeverydaywe’dbeenapart.
EmotionswelledinmythroatatthethoughtofChristiansittingherenightafternight,writingmenotesImightneversee.
ExceptIwasherenow,athisrequest,andIcouldn’thavestoppedmyselfifIwantedto.
Isankintohischair,pickedupthefirstletter,andstartedreading.52
CHRISTIAN/STELLA
CHRISTIAN
“Hello,Julian.”
IexaminedStella’sstalker,whowasstrungupwithheavycuffslockinghisarmsandlegsintoaverticalspread-eagleposition.Nailspinnedhispalmstothewallbehindthem,whileblackandbluebruisesmottledhisbodylikeanobscenepieceofabstractart.
WewereinthewarehouseI’dboughtforthisspecificpurpose.Remote,soundproofed,andguardedenoughthatanantcouldn’tcrawlacrossthefloorwithoutmeknowing.
Notallofmyguyswereokaywithdirtywork,whichwasfine.
Ionlyneededafewwhowere,andthey’ddonetheirjobpreppingthebastardforme.Icouldn’thavehimwaitingtoo
comfortablywhileItendedtoStella.
Mygazeflickedtothefloor.
Asmallpoolofbloodstainedthesmoothgrayconcrete.
Thatwasalsofine.
Itwouldgrowsoonenough.
Julian’sfacewassobeatenupitwasunrecognizable,buttheheatofhisglaremademesmile.
Hehadabitoffightleftinhim.Good.
Thatwouldmakeoursessionsomuchmorefun.
“I’msorrytotellyouthis,butyoumighthavetroublewritinganymorenotesinthefuture.”Isnappedonapairofgloves,myvoicecasualasIexaminedthearrayoftoolsavailabletomeonanearbytable.
Adifferentdozenblades.Brassknuckles.Screwdrivers,whips,nails,hooks…
Hmm.Choices,choices.
“Fuckyou,”Julianspat.
Mymenhadbeenrelativelysoftwithhim.Itmust’vegivenhimafalsesenseofsecuritythatwhathe’dgonethroughwasasbadasitgot.
Ismiled.Ifyouonlyknew.
“Language,
Mr.Kensler.Honestly.Didyourgrandmothernotteachyoumanners?”Iselectedoneoftheblades.Ihadasoftspotforknives.
Theywerelethal,precise,versatile.EverythingIlikedinaweapon.
“Here’sthething.”Ipressedthetipoftheknifeintohissternum.“Idon’tlikegettingmyhandsdirty.Blooddoesn’tgowellwithanyofmyclothes.Butsometimes…”Idraggedtheknifedownhistorso.Bloodwelledandsnakeddownhisbodylikethinrivuletsofred.“SomeonepissesmeoffenoughthatImakeanexception.”
Ipausedatthesoftfleshofhisbelly,thenrammedthebladeinsohardhewould’vecollapsedhadhenotbeenstrungup.
Aninhumanscreamrippedfromhisthroat,followedbyasecondscreamwhenIyankedtheknifeout.
“Here’sthething,Julian.”Icontinuedlikenothinghappened.“She’llnever
beyours.Shewasalwaysmine.Andyourbiggestmistake…”Idroppedthebloodiedknifeonthetableandselectedameatcleaver.“Washurtingsomeonewhowasmine.”
Ididn’tsayStella’sname.Itdidn’tdeservetoliveinaplacewherepainanddeathreigned,butwebothknewwhoIwastalkingabout.
Bloodstains.Bruisedskin.Terrifiedeyes.
Mypulsepoundedatthememory.
Iusuallystayedincontrolduringthesesessions.Cool,calm,evenconversationalasIworkedonthesubject.
ButwheneverIpicturedthehauntedlookinhereyes,orthepurpleandblackmarringhergorgeousskin,somethingdarkandicyrootedinmylungs.
Rage,andtheprimalneedtotearanyonewhoeventhought
abouthurtingherapartfromlimbtolimb.
IfI’dbeenoneminutelate,shewould’vedied.Herlightsnuffedout,justlikethat.
Theragecoiledtightandexplodedthroughthesharpbladeofthecleaver,whichsmashedthroughfleshandboneuntilananimalistichowlofagonysplittheair.
“See?”MychestheavedfromtheforceofmyswingasJulian’srighthandhitthefloorwithathud
.“Hardtowriteagain.Ortype.”
Thatwasallittookforhisfighttomeltlikeicecreamonhotconcrete,whichwasdisappointing.
Breakingthemdownwassomuchmoresatisfyingwhentheydidn’tbendsoquickly.
“Please,”Juliangasped.Tearsrandownhischeeksanddrippeddownhischin.“I’msorry.I…”
“WhatwouldyouhavedonehadInotshowedup?Rapedher?Killedher?”
“No,”heblubbered.HetrembledasIswappedbladesagain.“I…Ididn’twanttohurther.I…”
Itwastoolate.
AnimageofStellapinnedbeneathhim,cryingandbloodied,flashedthroughmyhead.
Ipuncturedhischestandignoredhiscries.
Themerefactthathe’dputhishandsonherandcausedherevenasecondofpain…
WhenIwasinthecabin,andIthoughtIwasabouttodie…
ThoughtIwasabouttodie…
Abouttodie…
Myvisiontunneled.
AsnarlbrokefreeasIpeeledoffasquareofherstalker’sfleshwithavicioustear.
Anotherhowlrattledthebarebulbilluminatingthespace.
Ididn’tindulgeinthesewarehousesessionsoften.Thepeoplewhocrossedmehadtohavecommittedsinsgreatenoughtowarrantsuchtreatment,andlikeI’dsaid,Ididn’tlikegettingbloodonmyclothes.
ButhurtingStella?Therewasnocrimegreaterthanthatinmybook.
ThesoundsofJulian’sscreamsandpleasdrownedbeneaththetidalwaveofmyanger.Myworldshranktoonethatconsistedsolelyofmetal,blood,andagony.Thesnapofbone,thewetsoundoftearingflesh,thebarestelementsofamanspillingfromtheseamsofhisguttedtorsolikestuffingfromanolddoll.
Icould’vespenttheentiredayworkingonJulian.Twenty-fourhourswasnothingcomparedtothemonthsofhellhe’dputStellathrough.
PerhapsIwould’ve,hadInotreturnedtothetabletoswapmydull,overworkedknifeforafreshoneandsawthemessagewaitingforme.
I’dleftmyphonenexttotheblades.Thetextonscreenwascomicallyoutofplace,ajarringreminderthatlifeexistedoutsidethesewalls.
Stella:
Comehometome.
Mybreathingslowed.
Iwasdrenchedwithsweatandsplatteredwithblood.MyusualrestrainthadsnappedbeneaththeweightofStella’shurt,butherwordstetheredmebacktoearth.
AnimageofStellalookingatmewiththosesoft,knowinggreeneyesthatmorningreplacedthewarehouse.
Don’tgivehimanypiecesofyoursoul.
I’dthoughtIdidn’thaveanyleft,butIwaswrong.Therewasoneremainingpiece,anditbelongedtoher.
Crimsongraduallyretreatedfrommyvision.
Idroppedtheknifeandstaredatthebrokendown,barelyconsciousmanhangingonthewall.
Theurgetomakehimsufferlongerwasstillthere,coiledlikeavicioussnakeinmygut.
ButthedesiretoreturntoStellawasstronger.
Comehometome.
“Yougotlucky,”Isaid.
Ipickedupmygun.
Threestrategicallyplacedshotslater,Stella’sstalkerwasnothingmorethanalifeless,bloodiedheapofflesh
Forher,I’dgivenhimthegreatestmercyIwascapableofgiving:aquickerdeath.
IleftthebasementwhileSteeleandMasonswoopedintocleanupthemess.
Thetorturedidn’tfazethem;theywereevenmorecomfortablewiththewarehousesessionsthanIwas.
UnlikeKage,theyalsohadnoambitionotherthantoexcelintherolestheyalreadyheld.ItwaswhyI’dselectedthemtooverseeJulian’sdetainment.
Still,IwouldhavetooverhaulthecompanyprocessesafterIreturnedtotheoffice.Changeaccesscodes,restructureteams.Ididn’twanttoriskanotherKagesituation.
Butuntilthen…
Ienteredthewarehouse’sbathroom,washedofftheblood,changedmyclothes,andwenthometoStella.
***
STELLA
“You’rehome.”
MyhearttrippedwhenthedooropenedandChristianentered.
Atfirstglance,helookedthesameaswhenhe’dleft—blackshirt,blackpants,hauntinglybeautifulface—butacloserlookrevealedthequietstormbrewinginhiseyes.
“Youaskedmetocomehome.”Hewatched,bodystillbutgazeburninglikeanopenflame,asIclosedthedistancebetweenus.“SohereIam.”
Hisroughvelvetvoiceheldanoteofcaution.
It’dbeenfivehourssinceheleft,andwebothknewhehadn’tbeenattheoffice.
“Is…”Itrailedoff,notwantingtosayJulian’sname.
“Youdon’thavetoworryabouthimanymore.”
“Right.”Iswallowedthehundredquestionscrowdingmythroatandwentwithasaferroute.“Ireadtheletters.”
Alltwentyofthem.Eachonewrungmyheartlikeaknotpulledtaut,becauseIknewhowharditwasforChristiantoshareanythingabouthispersonallife.
Thoselettersweren’tjustletters—theywerepiecesofhim,pouredfromhissoulandinkedinblack.
AndIlovedeverypiece,nomatterhowflawedorbrokenhethoughtitwas.
ThestorminChristian’seyesthreatenedtosuckmeintoitsvortex.
“ImeantwhatIwrote,”hesaidquietly.“Everyword.”
“Iknow.”Ipressedmylipstohisjaw.Hewentstill,hismusclestautandhisbreathsquickeningasIkissedmywayuphisjawtothecornerofhismouth.
“Welcomehome,”Iwhispered.
Asmallshudderwentthroughhimbeforeheturnedhisheadandourmouthsmet.Staticfilledmeashecuppedmyfacewithonehandandcurledhisotherhandaroundthebackofmyneck.
Lastnight’skisshadbeensoft,gentle.Aneasingintothewatersafterourseparationandacomfortafterahellishday.
Thisonewaspassionanddesperation,athoroughreclaimingofwhatwewereandthebirthofwhatwecouldbe.
Nolies,nosecrets,justus.
IsankintothefamiliarglideofChristian’stongueagainstmineandthewarmthofhishandagainstthebackofmyneck.
Ididn’taskquestionsaboutwhathedidinthefivehourshewasgone.
Theworldwasn’tblackandwhite,nomatterhowmuchIwisheditwere.
Andsometimes,wefoundourhappinessintheshadesofgray.53
STELLA/CHRISTIAN
STELLA
“So?Whatdoyouthink?”ChristianwatchedwithboyishanticipationasIliftedaforkfulofgnocchitomymouth
IpretendedtomullitoverbeforeIproclaimed,“BestI’veeverhad.”
Hisgrinmadethebutterfliesinmystomachreel.“Toldyou,”hesaid,oozingplayfulself-satisfaction.
WewereeatingdinneratatinyItalianrestauranttuckedintheheartofColumbiaHeights.ItwastheoneChristianmentionedinhisletters,anditwasjustascharmingasI’denvisioned.
Insteadofindividualtables,onerusticwoodentablestretcheddownthemiddle,justlargeenoughtoseatadozenpeople.Acandlelitchandelierbathedtheroominaflickeringamberglow,andadisplayofcopperpotsandpanshungontheexposedbrickwall.
Itfeltlikewewereeatinginsomeone’shome,especiallysinceChristianhadbookedouttherestaurantsoitwasjustusandtheserver.
“Don’tbetoosmug.”Ipointedmyforkathim.“Thedateisonlyhalfdone.I’veyettogradeyouonyourhand-holding,cuddling,andsweetnothingskills.”
“Ofcourse.Apologies,”hedrawled.“Didn’tmeantojumpthegun.”
“Apologyaccepted.”Ituckedintotherestofmymealprimlyandbarelysuppressedasmileathislaughingexpression.
It’dbeenamonthsincewegotbacktogether,andwe’dspentthattimeexploringthecontoursofournewrelationship.
Nofakedating,nostalkerscareforcingustogether,nohidingbehindflashygesturesandexpensivegifts.
Justus,flawsandall,goingonnormaldatesandlivingnormallives.
Well,asnormalaslifecouldgetwithChristian,anyway.
Inaperverseway,mykidnappinghadresetourrelationshipforthebetter.Nothingprovidedclaritylikealmostdying.
I’dmostlyputtheordealbehindme,thoughsometimesIwasstillplaguedwithnightmaresofsurprisenotesandaramshacklecabininthewoods.ButIwouldworkmywaythroughit.Itjusttooktime.
I’dalsomovedbackintoChristian’shousetwoweeksago.Ididn’twanttoimposeonAlexandAvaanymore,especiallywiththeirweddingcomingupinafewweeks.Icould’vemovedbacktomyoldapartmentnowthatIdidn’thaveastalkerthreathangingovermyhead,buthonestly,Ididn’twanttoliveanywhereelse.
Hisapartmentwashome.
“Bytheway,didyouhearwhathappenedwithSentinel’sCEO?”Iasked.“It’swild.”
Iwassurehehad,butIhadtobringitup.
Sentinel’sdemisehaddominatedthepastmonth’sheadlines.Apparently,they’dbeenworkingonanewpieceofcodethatsomehowself-destructedanddestroyedtheirinfrastructuresothoroughlyitwasimpossibletorebuild.Classifiedinformationabouttheirclientshadalsoleakedandcausedamassiveuproar,givenhowhighprofilesomeofthoseclientswereandhowsensitivesomeofthatdatawas.
Ifthatwasn’tenough,theauthoritieshadarrestedSentinel’sCEOMikeKurtzthatmorningforembezzlementandtaxfraud.Thewholethingwasamess.
“Yes.I’mnotsurprisedit’splayedoutthewayithas,”Christiansaidmildly.“Companiesshouldsticktotheirlane.Sentinelisasecuritycorporation.Theyhadnobusinessventuringintocyberdevelopmentwhenthat’snottheirareaofexpertise.”
“Whileyou,Mr.SecurityCEO,arealsoacyberexpert,”Iteased.
Hissmilespreadthroughmelikesun-warmedhoney.“Exactly.”
“Idon’tsupposeyouknowanythingaboutthecodetheywereworkingon,”Iaddedcasually.
Anuninterestedshrug.“Notathing.”
Iletitgo.HewasvengefulandI’dacceptedthatabouthim.
Plus,Sentinel’sdestructioncamefromtheinsideout.NoonecouldblameChristianforamistakeontheirpart.
TheconversationmovedontoStellaAlonsothebrand,whichofficiallylaunchedlastweek.Itwasn’tanoriginalname,buteponymouslabelswerederigueur.I’ddouble-checkedwithDelamontefirst,buttheywereokaywiththelaunchaslongasitdidn’tinterferewithmyambassadorduties.Wehaddifferenttargetaudiences,anyway.Theirswasultra-high-endwhileminetippedtowardthemid-rangeoftheluxuryspectrum.
Bythetimedinnerended,Iwasflushwithwineandgiddiness.
Itwastheperfectdatenight.Simple,casual,real.
“Notyet,”ChristiansaidwhenImovedtoleave.Heleanedbackinhischair,thepictureofsensualmasculinityandlazycontentment.“Comehere,Stella.”
Anelectriccurrentslidthroughtheairandsettledbetweenmythighs.
“Why?”
Christian’sonlyresponsewasanarchofhisdarkbrows.
Right.
Iroseandwalkedaroundthetable,unsurewhetherIowedmysteadinesstothewineorthewetnessslickingmythighs.
Themereanticipationofwhatmighthappenturnedmeonasmuchasanactualtouch.
WhenIreachedChristian,hestood,pushedhisplateaside,andliftedmeontothetableinonesmoothmovement.
Mypulsespiked,butrationalityclungtotheedgesofbloomingarousal.
“Christian,”Ihissed.“We’llgetintrouble!”
Thecurtainsweredrawn,anddrapescoveredthefrontdoor,shieldingusfrompassersby.OurserverwasMIA,butthatdidn’tmeanhecouldn’tshowupatanyminute.
“Nooneishere,Butterfly,”Christiandrawled.“IpaidtheservertoleaveuntilIgivehimthegreenlight.Cooksaregone.It’sjustus.”
Hepushedmydressuparoundmywaistandhookedhisfingersintotheelasticbandofmyunderwear.
Theaircondensedintosomethingthinandinfinitelyflammable.
“Whatareyoudoing?”
“Eatingdessert.”Christianeasedmyhipsupsohecouldpullmyunderweardownbeforehereturnedtohisseat.
“Youdon’tlikedessert.”Myvoicehadgonetosmoke,asinsubstantialastheremnantsofmyresistance.
Christian’sslow,answeringsmilethrobbedinmyblood.
“Ichangedmymind.”
***
CHRISTIAN
“OhGod
.”Stella’sbreathlessmoansparkedinmybloodlikeaflameagainstgasoline.
HerhandstangledinmyhairasIhikedherlegshigheronmyshouldersandgaveherclitanotherlong,languorouslick.
“Wejustgotstarted,sweetheart,”Idrawled.“Thisisgoingtobealongcourse.”
Idrewherswollenbudintomymouthandsucked,revelinginthewaysheshiveredandpantedaroundme.
IfuckinglovedeatingStella’spussy.Thetaste,thesmell,thewaysheclenchedaroundmyfingerswhenIpumpedtheminsideherandhitthat
spot.
Itwastheworld’smostintoxicatingfeast.
HercriesofpleasurespurredmeonasIlicked,sucked,andtonguedthatsweetlittlecuntuntilshewasdrippingalloverme,herprettyclitswollenfrommyattentionandherjuicesslickonmytongue.
Afterawhile,Ipulledback,mychestheavingasIadmiredthesightbeforeme.Sowetandperfectlypreparedforthemainevent.
“Now
,”Isaid.“I’mreadyfordessert.”
Ispreadherthighswider,dippedmyhead,anddevouredher.
Stella’ssquealsandwhimpersescalatedintoinelegantscreamsasIalternatedbetweenfingeringherandworshipingherclitandfuckingherwithmytongue.Harder,moreintensethanthefirsttime,likeIwasdyingofthirstinthedesertandshewasmyonlysourceofsalvation.
“Christian.”
Mynamebrokeintoasob.Shefistedmyhair,hermusclestautwithdesire.
“Youtastesogood.”Iburiedmynoseinherandbreathedherin.Herpussywasliketheworld’ssweetestnectar,andIwasravenousforit.
Iwantedtodrinkupeveryfuckingdropandcomebackforseconds.Thirds.Fourths.Fortherestoffuckingtime.
Iwouldneverbeabletogetenoughofher.
“Doyouwanttoknowwhatyoutastelike?”IslidtwofingersinsideherandliftedmyheadsoIcouldseeher.
Stellagazeddownatme,hereyeshalf-liddedwithdesireandbrightwithclear,puretrust.
Itundidme.
Mycockwassoharditfeltlikeitwouldsplitopenfromthepressure,butthewallsaroundmyhearthadcrumbled,baringthesoft,beatingorgantohereverywhimanddesire.
“Likehoneyandspices.”Ipushedmyfingersdeeper.ShewassotightIcouldfeel
herstretchingaroundme,inchbyinch,untilIwasknucklesdeepinsideher.
“Likesweetnessandsin.”In.Out.Slowlyandthoroughly,lettingherfeeleveryglideoffriction.
Afull-bodyshudderrolledthroughher.
“Youtaste…”Iremovedmyfingersandloweredmyhead.“Likemine
.”
AkeeningcryechoedthroughtheroomasStella’sbodybowedoffthetable.Hermuscleswenttaut,vibratingwiththeforceofherorgasmasshecameonmytongue.
Desireburnedupthefuelinmyveins,butItookmytime,leisurelysavoringeverydropwhilewaveafterwaverolledthroughher.
Finally,hercriessubsidedintoadazedwhimper,andshesprawled,loose-limbedandsated,onthetable.
“Myfavoritepartofthemeal,”Isaidlazily.“Youwereright.”Igaveherclitonefinal,languidlick.“Ijustneededtofindtherightdessert.”54
STELLA
AlexandAva’s
weddingtookplaceinearlyOctober,atagorgeousvineyardinVermont.Stunningred,orange,andyellowfoliagetransformedthesettingintoanautumnalfairytale,andthebeautifulskydrapedoveruslikeasheetofazure,sun-warmedsilk.
Bridget,Jules,andIstoodononesideoftheextravagantfloralweddingarchinmatchingbridesmaiddresseswhileAlex,Josh,Rhys,andChristianstoodontheother.
Originally,Alexhadwantednogroomsmenotherthanabestman,butAvahadconvincedhimotherwise.
ArustleofleaveskickedupbeforethefamiliarstrainsoftheweddingmarchfilledtheairandAvaappeared.
Ididn’tcryinpublicoften,butmoistureprickledmyeyeswhenshewalkeddowntheaisleonRalph’sarm.
RalphwasAlex’soldKravMagainstructorandtheclosestAlexandAvahadtoaparentthesedays.TheyvisitedhimeveryThanksgiving,andhisfaceglowedwithemotionasifshewerehisrealdaughter.
“AmIcrying?”Juleswhisperednexttome.“Can’ttellifit’sthewindornot.”
“No,”Isaidthroughmysmile.Ididn’tlookather,afraidanymovementwouldbreakthewellcontainingmytears.“AmI?”
“No…well,alittle.Butourmascaraiswaterproof,soit’sokay.”
“Shh
,”Bridgethissed.“Noone
iscrying.”Shediscreetlywipedatearfromhercheek.
Avadrewcloser.
Theskirtofhergorgeousmermaid-shapedgowntrailedbehindherinacloudofsofttulle,lace,andsilk,adornedwithripple-liketexturesthatresembledthecrestsofoceanwaves.
Herfacewasradiant,hereyesbrightandhersmilebrighterstill.
ShelookedsobeautifulandhappymychestwarmeduntilInolongerfeltthefallchill.
Bridgethadbeenthefirstofmyfriendstogetmarried,butAva’sweddinghitonadifferentlevel.SheandAlexhadperhapsthedarkestpastsandtherockiestpathtowardtheirhappilyeverafter.Seeingthemovercomeallofthattofinallybetogetherwasincredible
Acrossfromus,Alexresembledastatueinhisstillness.HewasalwaysattunedtoAva,butinthatmoment,helookedatherliketheworldwasthenightskyandshewastheonlystarinexistence.
Foronce,hiseyesweren’thiddenbeneathalayerofice.Loveshonethrough,soclearandbrightiteclipsedthesun.
ItintensifiedwhenAvareachedthealtar,andhemurmuredsomethingthatmadehercheekspinkwithpleasure.
Theireyeslingeredoneachotherbeforetheyfacedthepastor,whobegantheofficialceremony.
“DearlyBeloved,wearegatheredheretodaytocelebrateAlexVolkovandAvaCheninholymatrimony…”
Whilehisspeechcontinued,myeyesconnectedwithChristian’s.
Ourlipscurvedandourgazeslingeredbeforeweturnedourattentionbacktothewedding.
Theold,insecuremewould’vekeptcheckingtoconfirmhewasstillthereandthathewasn’tafantasyI’dconcocted.
Thepresentmeknewhewasn’t.
Hewasreal,andnomatterwhathappened,hewouldalwaysbethere.
***
Thatnight’s
receptiontookplaceinthevineyard’srestaurant,whichhadbeenclearedouttomakeroomforadancefloor,twolongbanquettables,andalivemusicstage.Exposedwoodenbeamscrisscrossedthespace,lendingitanairofrusticcharm,buttherewasnothingrusticaboutthecustomengravedchinaplates,thefiftythousanddollarsworthofluxuryfloralarrangements,ortheworld-famoussingercrooningonstage.
Asexpected,Alexhadsparednoexpense.
“Youshould’veaskedhimforabathtubofdiamonds,”JulestoldAva.“Hewould’vemadeithappen.”
Avahadneededabreatherfromalltheminglingrequiredofthebride,soBridget,Jules,andIhadusheredherofftoacornerwhiletherestoftheguestsdrankanddanced.
“Jules,”Avasaidpatiently.“WhatwouldIdowithabathtubofdiamondsatmywedding?”
“Rollarounditliketherichbitchyouare.AndImeanthatinthemostaffectionateway.”Jules’seyesglintedwithmischief.“Or
youcouldpassthemouttoyourguests,specificallyyourwonderfulbridesmaids,whoverymuchdidnotgetyouintotroubleinBarcelona.”
IsplutteredatthementionofAva’sbachelorettetrip.“Jules.”
“What?Itwasharmlessfun.WhoknewAlexwouldgetsoupsetaboutmalestrippers?Itwasabacheloretteparty
.”
“IthinkitwaslessthestrippersandmorethewakingupinastrangehotelinIbiza
part,”Bridgetsaiddryly.
“Ithinkitwasboth,”Idecided.
We’dbeenfine,buttheguyshadbeenlessthanpleasedwhentheyfoundoutabout,well,everything.
Honestly,theyshouldn’ttalkafterwhathappenedtothem
andthebananafloat.
“Guys,please.”Avaheldupherhand,lookingpained.“Nodiamonds,noBarcelonatalk.”
“Fine,”Julesgrumbled.“ButI
thoughtthetripwasfun.Itwaslikecollegeagain.”
“Whatwaslikecollegeagain?”AlexwalkedoverwithJosh,Rhys,andChristianintow.HekissedAva’sforehead,andshesnuggledintohisside,hersmileblossomingsowideitmademe
smile.
“Lastnight,”BridgetsaidsmoothlybeforeJulescouldruptureAlex’sarterybymentioning.“Girls’nightin.Justlikeincollege.”
“YouweretalkingaboutSpain,weren’tyou?”Christianmurmuredwhentheconversationtopicswitched
Hewrappedhisarmsaroundmefrombehind,envelopingmewithwarmthandspice.
“I’mconvincedyoucanreadminds.”
Hislaughvibrateddownmyspine.“Yourguiltyexpressionsgiveitawayeverytime.”Hekissedmyneck.“Youlookgorgeous,Butterfly.”
Tinglesracedfromwherehislipstouchedmynecktotherestofmybody.
“Sodoyou.Beingagroomsmansuitsyou,”Iteased.
“Don’tgetusedtoit.IonlydidthisbecauseIoweVolkovafavor,”hesaiddryly.Apparently,AlexhadlookedoutforhisbusinessorsomethingduringourItalytrip.“DoyouknowwhatdealingwithJoshsooftenislike?Youshould’veseenhimandthatdamnbananafloatatthebachelorparty.”
Istifledalaugh.
“YoubettertakecareofAva,”Joshwasnowsaying.“Ifanythinghappenstoher,ifshegetseatenbyawildanimaloranythinglikethat,Iwillhuntyoudownanduseascalpelinwaysthatarenot
approvedbythemedicalboard.”
RhyssnortedoutalaughwhileAlexgavehisbestmanawrystare.“Whatexactlydoyouthinkwe’llbedoingonourhoneymoon?”
“Watchinglionsandotherthings
I’drathernotthinkaboutmybestfriendandsisterdoing.”Joshshudderedwithdisgust.“MaybeIshouldjoinyoursafaritokeepaneyeonthings,justincase.”
AlexandAvaleftfortheirsafari/beachhoneymooninKenyaandtheSeychellestomorrow.
TherewasatimewhenAva’saquaphobiapreventedherfromevengoingnearthewater,butshe’dovercomeitovertheyearswithAlex’shelp.
Julesrolledhereyes.“Leavethemalone.Youarenot
goingontheirhoneymoonwiththem.”
“Thatwouldbedisturbinginsomanyways,”Bridgetadded.
“Noone
appreciatesmygoodideas,”Joshmuttered.HelookedatRhyshopefully.“Larsen?”
“Letmeputitthisway,”Rhyssaid.“Ifyou’dtriedtotagalongwithmeandBridgetonourhoneymoon,Iwould’vetossedyououtoftheplaneaftertakeoff.Without
aparachute.”
Alaughroseinmythroat,butItunedouttherestofmyfriends’bickeringwhenChristianturnedmearoundandrestedhishandsonmyhips.
“Yourfriendsaresomethingelse.”Hesoundedhalfamused,halfappalled,eventhoughAlexandRhyswerehisfriendstoo.
“They’re…unique,”Iacknowledgedwithalaugh.“ButIlovethem.”
Somehow,fourstrangersthat’dbeenrandomlyassignedtothesamedormroomtheirfreshmanyearofcollegehadevolvedintowhatwewerenow—abeautifullymessy,perfectlyimperfectfamilythat’dgonethroughourshareofupsanddownsbutmadeitthroughtotheotherside.
There’dbeenatimeaftergraduationwhenIworriedourfriendshipwouldfrayoutsidetheconfinesofcampusandthestructureofourcollegelives.Theyearshadproventhatwasn’ttrue.Infact,ourfriendshiphadstrengthenedafterbeingtestedbyreallife.
Nataliawasmysisterbyblood,butAva,Bridget,andJuleswouldalwaysbemysistersbychoice.
“Ifyou’reuptoit,Iwanttotakeyousomewhereafterthereception,”Christiansaid,drawingmeoutmythoughts.“It’llbeaquicktrip.Twodaysmax.”
Myeyebrowsrose.“Where?”
“It’sasurprise.”Hekissedme.“Trustme.”
Idid.
“Ishouldtakeaphotoofthismoment,”RhysdrawledasheandBridgetpassedus.MyfriendshadpaireduptodanceafterthemusicshiftedtoaslowsongandAva’scousinFarrahandherhusbandBlakepulledherandAlexaway.“AbesottedChristianHarper.Whatasight.IshouldblastitouttotheHarperSecurityalumninetwork.Theguyswouldloveit.”
Christiannarrowedhiseyes.“You’reonetotalk,Larsen.Didn’tIseepicturesofyouattendingaroyalteapartytheotherweek?Withacatinyourlap,noless.”
ColorroseonRhys’scheekbones.“Itwasnotateaparty
,”hegrowled.“Itwasalunchceremony,
andMeadowsgetsupsetwhenweleaveheralonefortoolong.AtleastIdidn’tbuyupallthefuckingwheatgrass
inthegrocerystore…”
Bridgetcaughtmyeyeandshookherhead.
Men,
shemouthed,herexpressiononeofexasperatedaffection.
Istifledalaugh.
Theguyswouldneveradmitit,buttheirinsultsandargumentswerehowtheyshowedaffectionforeachother.
AndasIswayedtothemusicinChristian’sarms,listenedtothecomfortingrumbleofhisvoiceandthefamiliarwarmthofmyfriends’laughter,Ifeltsomethingthat’deludedmeforsomuchofmylife.
Happiness,initspurestandmostcompleteform.55
CHRISTIAN
ThenightaftertheVolkovs’
wedding,IflewStellaandmetomyhometown.
Ihadn’tsteppedfootinSantaLuisa,Californiasincemyparentsdied.It’dbeentwodecades,yetthetinyseasidetownalongthenortherncoastremainedthesame.
Quietstreets,aquaintdowntown,colorfulstuccobuildings.
Returningherewaslikesteppingbackintime.Ihadchanged,buteverythingelseremainedthesame.
Stellawasquietaswestoppedinfrontofawarehouseinthetown’sdesolateindustrialquarter.Ourcarwastheonlyoneonthestreet,andmanyofthewarehouses’metaldoorshadrustedwithdisuse,includingtheonebeforeus
Ihadn’ttoldStellathepurposeofourvisit,butsheknewIgrewuphereandtherefore,thevisitmusthavesomethingtodowithmyparents.
Shewasright.
Ipressedabutton,andthewarehousedoorclankedopenwithagroan.Acloudofstalemustbillowedoutbeforeitdissolvedinthelong-forgottensunshine.
“OhmyGod.”Stella’sstunnedwhisperechoedthroughtheroomwhenwewalkedinsideandshesawwhatitcontained.
Dozensofartpiecesfilledthesmallspace,frompricelessoilpaintingstosmallmodernsculptures.Manyofthepaintingshadwitheredaftertwentyyearsofneglect,butafewresilientpiecesremainedintact.
“Welcometomyinheritance,myfather’sstolentreasuretrove,”Isaid,thewordsbothhollowandself-deprecating.“Mymothergavemethelocationinhernote.”
It’dbeencoded—sheknewhowmuchIlovedpuzzlesevenasakid—butIhadn’ttriedcrackingituntilafewweeksago.It’dtakenmelessthanaminute.
“Haveyouvisitedbefore?”Stellaaskedsoftly.
“No.”
I’dmadevirtualarrangementsbeforewearrived,butitwasmyfirsttimeseeingitinperson.
Ithoughtthesightofmyfather’slegacywouldmakemeangry.Thiswaswhathe’ddedicatedhistimeandenergytoinsteadofhisonlyson.Thiswaswhatkilledhimand,byextension,mymotherandourfamily.
Ishould’vefeltthesamerageI’dfeltwhenIfirstreadmymother’sgoodbyenote.
Instead,Ifeltnothingexcepttheoverwhelmingdesiretoburnittotheground—notoutofspite,butoutofexhaustion.
Iwastiredofwhispersfromtheghostsofmypast.
Stellabrushedherfingersoveranearbysculpture.Theycameawaywithathinfilmofdust.
“Whatareyougoingtodowithitall?”
“Ifthey’renotsavable,destroythem.Iftheyare,donatethemorreturnthemtotheiroriginalowners.”
Alldoneanonymously,ofcourse.
“Except…”Istoppedinfrontofafamiliarpainting.“Thisone.”
Itsgoldframegleamedintheweaklight,andbrownandgreensplashedacrossitahideousapproximationofart.
“Magda
,”Stellasurmised.“IrecognizeitfromDante’sgallery.”
“Yes.”
I’dtuckedmymother’snotebackinsideitsframe,thenfinallyhadDantesendherbackwhereshebelonged.
Istaredattheswirlsofcoloruntiltheyblurredintoadarkkaleidoscope
Inhindsight,shewassoinconsequential.Acomplicatedproblemofmyowndesign,fabricatedtoshieldmefrommypast.
Everyonethoughtshewasimportantbecauseshecontainedsomebigbusinesssecretorshockingrevelationwhenthetruthwassomuchsimpler.
SherepresentedthepartofmypastI’dneverbeenabletoletgoof.AwoundI’dcoveredwithtemporarybandaidstohidethefesteringdiseasethat’dbeeneatingmealivefromtheinsideoutfordecades.
Wedidn’tspeakagainuntilItookthepaintingouttoanemptylotnearthewarehouses.
Otherthanthebuildings,therewasnothingaroundexceptformetalandconcrete.Abirdcircledoverhead,itssquawkechoinginthewide-openspace,andthehotsunbeatdownwithunusualintensity.
ItwasthelasttimeIwouldeverstepfootinSantaLuisa.Imightaswellgooutwithabang.
Iretrievedalighterfrommypocketandflickeditopen.
“Afraidoffire,Butterfly?”
Stellashookherheadandslidherhandintomineagain.“No.”
“Good.”
Iheldthelightertothepainting.Theoilsweresocombustibleflameseruptedalmostimmediately,swallowingthepaintingandtheletteritcontainedwhole.
Iwatcheddispassionatelyasthefiretwistedmymother’slegacyintoablackened,unrecognizableheap,butwhenStellasqueezedmyhand,Igaveitasmallsqueezeback.
Icould’vedonethisonmyown,butIwantedherwithme.Ifithadn’tbeenforher,I’dstillbeholdingontothatpainting,hatingitbutunabletoleaveitatthesametime.
ButnowthatIfinallyhadafutureworthlivingfor,itwastimetoletgoofthepast,onceandforall.56
STELLA
Oneyear
later
IwatchedfrombackstageasAyana,thehottestsupermodelofthemoment,strutteddownthesidewalk.Herflawlessdarkskinglowedbeneaththelightsandprovidedtheperfectcontrasttothecrowningpieceofmycollection:astrikingpurpledressthatcouldbeworndayornightdependingonhowitwasaccessorized.
Therestofthemodelsfollowedbehindherfortheclosingwalkuntiltheyallexitedtherunway.
“Stella,go
.”MynewassistantChristynudgedme.“Thisisyourtimetoshine!”
Right.Icandothis.
Itookadeepbreathandwalkedout,tentativelyatfirst,thenmoreconfidentlyastheapplauseintensified.
Itookabow,myskinwarmingwithpleasure.
MyfirstfashionshowinMilan.
Afterdozensofsleeplessnights,panicattacks,andfitsofself-doubt,itwasfinallyoverand,basedontheroararoundme,aresoundingsuccess.
Icouldn’tbelieveit.
Ididit.
Agrinspreadacrossmyface.Ididit!
Itwashardtoimaginethatit’donlybeenayearsincetheofficiallaunchofStellaAlonsothebrand.ItsprofilehadskyrocketedinanastonishinglyshorttimethankstoBridget’ssupport,whoworeatleastoneitembymeateverypublicevent,ifpossible.Fromher,whispersofthebrandtrickledintotheothercornersofEuropeandthenHollywoodwhere,inthemostsurrealofmoments,I’dwatchedKrisCarrera-Reynoldswalkdowntheredcarpetwearingoneofmydesigns.
Herhusband,actionmoviestarNateReynolds,wonhisfirstOscarthatnight.
Sincethen,it’dbeenasteadyupwardclimb.
Bradywasn’tmymanageranymoresinceI’dsteppedbackfrommypersonalaccountstofocusonthebrand,butIstilltalkedtohimoften.I’dalsobecomegoodfriendswithLilah.Shecouldn’tmakeittonightbecauseofherownshow,butshe’dbeeninstrumentalinhelpingmegetstarted.
Iwasn’tnaiveenoughtothinkmybigwavewouldlastforever,butIwasgoingtoridethehelloutofitwhileitdid.
“Go,Stella!”Afamiliarvoiceroseabovethedin.“Youkickedass,babe!”
Isearchedthroughthecrowduntilmyeyeslandedonaclusteroffamiliarfacesinthefrontrow.Mysmilegrew.
Theroomwaspackedwithfashioninsidersandcelebrities,butthepeopleIcaredaboutmostwererightthereinfrontofme.
AlexandAva,whoglowedwithpregnancy.Shewasfourmonthsalong,andherbabybumphadjuststartedshowing.
RhysandBridget,whowasregalasalwaysintheblueStellaAlonsodressshe’dmadeaculthit.
JoshandJules,whohadshoutedthekickedass
statementandlookedlikeshewasabouttorunonstageuntilJoshpulledherback.
Andmyfamily,whosebeamsofpridecurledthroughmychestandsettledtherelikeawarmblanket.Mymother,myfather,mysister…theywereallthere.
Ourrelationshiphadcomealongwayoverthepastyear.Itwasn’tperfect,butwhatfamilywas?
Whatmatteredwasthatthey’dshowedup.
Finally,mygazemadeittothemostimportantpersonintheroom.
HedrapedacrosshischairinaspillofItalianwoolandsilk,sobeautifulhecould’vemodeledonstagehimselfhadIdesignedmenswear.
Christiandidn’thollerandcheerlikeeveryoneelse,butthecurveofhislipsandthewarmthinhiseyessaidmorethanwordscould.
Myheartballoonedinmychest.
Iloveyou,
Imouthed.
Thosewhiskeypoolssparkledanddancedbeneaththedimlights.
Hedidn’tneedtosayitformetohearhim.
Iloveyoutoo.
***
Aftermyshow,
ChristianandIstayedanextratwonightsinMilanbeforehewhiskedmeofftoPositano.
I’dprotestedhalf-heartedly,sayingIhadtoomuchworktogoonvacation,buthonestly,itdidn’ttakemuchtoconvinceme.
IfellinlovewiththeAmalfiCoastbeforeIevervisitedit,andIfellevenmoreinloveaftervisiting.
Thescentofsaltandwaterfilledmynoseaswewalkedalongthebeach.
Iwouldnevergetoverhowbeautifulthisplacewas.Notonlybecauseofhowitlooked,butbecauseofwhatitmeanttomeandChristian.
Itwasn’ttheseedofourlove.That’dbeenplantedlongbeforewesteppedfootinItaly.Butitwastheplacewhereithadblossomed,unfurlingbeneaththeMediterraneanskiesliketheworld’smostbeautifulcanvas.
“Pennyforyourthoughts.”Christianwalkedalongsideme,hissuitstradedforacasuallinenshirtandpants.
“Justapenny?Ithoughtyouwereabillionaire.”
“Aquarterthen.Finaloffer,”hesaidwiththeseriousnessofsomeonenegotiatingamultimillion-dollarcontract.
Ilaughed.“Fine,I’lltakeit,butmythoughtsmightbetoosappyforyou.”Ilookedoutattheocean,mywordssoftwithreminiscence.“I’mthinkingaboutourfirsttriphereandhowmuchIlovethisplace.We’vevisitedalotofplacestogether,butItaly…Italywillalwaysbespecial.”
“I’mgladyouthinkso.”Christian’svelvetmurmurbrushedmyskin,alongwithanoddroughnessI’dneverheardbefore.“Icouldn’tdecidewhethertodothisinHawaiiorItaly,butitseemsImadetherightchoice.”
“Dowhat?”Iturned,andthebreathdisappearedfrommylungs.
Becausebeforeme,framedbypastel-coveredhillsandthegoldenhuesofsunset,wasasightI’dneveranticipated.
ChristianHarperononeknee,velvetboxopeninhandtorevealadazzlingdiamondringsetwithemeralds.
TearsblurredmyvisionasIpressedahandtomymouth.
Whenhespokeagain,theoddroughnesswasstillthere,butitwasbraidedwithsomuchloveandhopetheynarrowedmyworldtothisonemomentwiththisoneman.
“Stella,willyoumarryme?”EPILOGUE
STELLA
Fouryearslater
“TakeyoursummerFridayoff,”Itoldmyassistant.ChristyandIstoppedinfrontofmyoffice.“Icansurviveanafternoonbymyself.”
“Areyousure?Ican—”
“Yes
.Go.”Ishooedheraway.“Enjoytheweather.It’sgorgeousoutside.”
“Okay,”shesaidreluctantly.“Textorcallifyouneedanything.Whichremindsme,Iforgotonething.”Aslysmilereplacedheranxiousnessatleavingworkearly,evenifitwaspartofthecompany’svacationpolicy.“Youhaveavisitor.”
Mybrowfurrowedatboththeunexpectedadditiontomyscheduleandthemischievoustwinkleinhereyes.“Who…”
MyquestioncutoffwithasharpinhalewhenIopenedthedoorandsawwhowasstandinginside.
Darksuit.Whiskeyeyes.AndabouquetofthemostgorgeousrosesI’deverseen.
Aslow,devastatingsmilespreadacrosshisfacewhenhesawme.
Besideme,Christysighedandvisiblyswooned.
Shewasn’ttheonlyone.
Evenafterthreeyearsofmarriage,thatsmileneverfailedtomakemyheartflutter.
“Morning,Butterfly.”Thelazytimbreofhisvoicesentawhooshofwarmththroughmystomach.
“Whatareyoudoinghere?”Ibreathed.“Ithoughtyouwereonabusinesstrip.”
He’dleftforLondontwodaysagoandwasn’tscheduledtoreturnuntilSunday.
“Flewbackearly.”Hegaveacasualshrug.“Imissedyou.”
ItwasagoodthingIwasstillholdingontothedoorknob.Otherwise,Imighthavemeltedstraighttothefloor.
“Ahem.”Christyclearedherthroat.“I’mtakingthatsummerFridaynow.Haveagoodweekend.”
Shewinkedatmebeforesheleft.
Iwould’vebeenmortifiedbytheinsinuationinhervoicehadInotbeensodistractedbythegorgeousmalespecimenstandinglessthanfivefeetaway.
“It’sbeenfiveminutes,Mrs.Harper,”Christiandrawled.“Areyougoingtomakeyourhusbandwaitevenlongerforakiss?”
“You,”Isaid.“Areunbelievable.”
ThenIranandthrewmyarmsaroundhisneck,myheartswellingastherumbleofhislaughterfilledtheroom.
Ikissedhim,drinkinginhistasteandsmelllikewe’dbeenapartformonths,notdays.
“Ican’tpassuptheopportunitytovisitmytalentedwifeatheroffice,”hesaidwhenwefinallybrokeapart.HewrappedhisarmsaroundmywaistwhileIburiedmyfaceinhischestandbreathedintherich,familiarscentofhim.Itwasthescentofloveandcomfortandsafety.Myfavoritesmellintheentireworld.“OfficesinSoho.You’veofficiallymadeit,StellaAlonsoHarper.”
TheStellaAlonsobrandhadexpandedrapidlyoverthepastfewyearstoincludeclothes,accessories,andfragrances.Itsofficehadexpandedaccordingly
IsmiledatChristian’steasing,butasuddenpangofmelancholyhitme.
We’dmovedtoNewYorkafterwegotmarried,andbothourbusinesseswerenowheadquarteredinManhattan.
JulesandAvaremainedinD.C.,butthethreeofusplusBridgetsaweachotherinpersonatleasttwiceayear:onceforourannualgirls’tripandoncefortheholidays.
Myfamilyvisitedafewtimesayearandviceversa.
Itwasawonderfullife,buttherewasonepersonImissedgreatly.
“IwishMaurawereheretoseeit,”Isaidsoftly.“Shewould’velovedit.”
Maurahadmadeittoourwedding,whereshe’dbeenthemostlucidI’dseenherinyears.
Amonthlater,rightafterChristianandIreturnedfromourhoneymoon,she’dpassedawayinhersleep.
I’dbeendevastated,butIknewshe’dbeenreadytogoandthatshewasinahappierplacenow.Eventhoughshehadn’trememberedmeinthelastyearsofherlife,apartofmewonderedwhethershe’dbeenwaitingformetofindmyhomebeforeshemovedon.
“Sheknows.”ChristiansoundedsoconfidentIbelievedhim.
“Sincewhendidyoubecometheoptimistoutofthetwoofus?”
“SinceImarriedyou.”Heranahanddownmyback.“Iblameitonthosewheatgrasssmoothiesyoumakemedrinkeverymorning.Theymustbelacedwithsomething.”
Myburstoflaughtershatteredmyremainingmelancholy.“They’llextendyourlifespan,Mr.Harper.Iwantmany,manyyearswithyou.”
“Notyears,sweetheart.Forever.”Christiantippedmychinup,andmyhearttingledalloveragain.“Butjustincase,weshouldmakethemostofwhatwehave.”
Ahalfgasp,halflaughpouredfrommythroatwhenhesweptthepapersoffmydeskandsetmeontopofit.
“Christian
,”Iadmonishedwithnofire.“Thatwasaweek’sworthofwork!”
“I’llcleanituplater,”hesaidlazily.“Butinthemeantime,Icanthinkofsomewaystomakeituptoyou.”
Thenhekneltbeforemeandspreadmylegs,andsuddenly,workwasthelastthingonmymind.
***
CHRISTIAN
OnethingnoonetoldmeaboutbeingmarriedwashowoftenIhadtointeractwithmywife’sfriends.
Holidays,birthdays,dinnerpartieswhentheywereintown…myoncebusiness-orientedcalendarwasnowburstingwiththingslikefuckingBroadwaynightsandChristmasatthevonAschebergs.
Wealternatedhostingtheholidays,sothisyear,wewereatRhysandBridget’sgetawayvillainCostaRica.
Specifically,wewereintheirlivingroomfortheannualChristmasEveboardgamenight.
Ifinishedmywineandwaitedfortheinevitablecomplaints.Ithappenedeverydamnyear.
“There’snowayyou’renotcheating.”JoshstaredattheMonopolyboardwithdisbelief.Justlikeclockwork.“Howdoyouwineverytime
?”
“WhatcanIsay?Iworkinrealestate,”Alexdrawled.“Perhapsifweplayamedicalboardgame,youmightstandachance.”
“Irefusetobelieveit.”Joshsatbackonhishaunches.“Every
Christmas…”
“There,there.”Julespattedhisarm.“It’sjustaboardgame.”
Herdiamondringflashedbeneaththelightswitheverymovement.SheandJoshhadfinallygottenengagedlastsummer,thoughtheyhadn’tsetaweddingdateyet.
“It’snotjustaboardgame,Red.It’smypride.Mydignity.My—”
“Fakemoney?”Avaraisedaneyebrow.“Yousaythesamethingevery
year.”
“Yes,well,itdoesn’tmakeitanylesstrue,”Joshgrumbled.Heleaneddownuntilhewaseyelevelwithhisthree-and-a-half-year-oldnieceandnephew.“Yourdadisacheat.”
Neitherchildseemedimpressedbyhisaccusation.
“Daddywon!”Sofiainsisted.
“That’sright,LittleSunshine.”AlexcastasmuglookinJosh’sdirectionbeforehesweptherupandkissedhercheek.Shegiggledwithdelight.“YourUncleJoshisasoreloser.”
HertwinbrotherNikosatbackonhishaunchesandpoundedtheboardwithtinyfists.“Uncleloser!Daddywinner!”
TheMonopolypieceswentflyingfromtheforceofhispounding.
Isilentlycursedasoneofthemlandedinmywine.TherewasnofuckingwayI’ddrinktherestwhenit’dbeentaintedbyadirtygamepiece.
Meanwhile,JoshplayfullytackledNiko,whoshriekedwithlaughterwhenhestartedticklinghim.
“Can’tbelieveyoubetrayedmelikethat,bud,”Joshgrowled,hisvoicethickwithamusement.“We’resupposedtobeateam.”
Nexttothem,BridgetandRhys’sdaughterwatchedtheirroughhousingwithamystifiedexpressionthatwasfartoomatureforheryears.
Withherblondhairandgrayeyes,littleCamillavonAschebergwasaminiaturecloneofherparents.Shealsolookedsurprisinglyregalforatwo-year-oldinherbluedressandmatchinghairbow.
HerbrowscrunchedwhenJoshandNikoaccidentallyknockedoveraglassofwater.
“Daddy.”Shetuggedonherfather’ssleeveandpointedatthespill.
Icould’veswornIheardanoteofdisapproval.
“Don’tworryaboutit,sweetheart.”Rhyssighed.“Happenseveryyear.”
“IneverthoughtI’dsaythis,butRhys’skidistheonlyonewhoisn’talittleterror,”ImutteredtoStella.AtleastCamillahadthedecencytositstill.
Iwatched,appalled,asSofiaplayedwithAlex’shair.
“Daddy!Braids!”Shetwistedthestrandsintosomethingthatdidnotresembleabraidinanyway,shape,orform.”Look!”
“Theylookgreat,”hesaidindulgentlywhileshecontinuedtomassacrehisperfectlystyledhair.
Iwasconvincedanimposterhadswappedbodieswiththenormallyice-coldAlexthedayhebecameafather.Itdidn’tmakesense.
Stellalaughed.“Thetwinsareadorable,andyouknowit.”
“Iknownosuchthing,”Isaid,eventhough,asfaraschildrenwent,SofiaandNikowere
prettycute.
IglancedbackatRhys.
“Ithoughtseeingyouwhippedforonegirlwasbad,”IdrawledasheandBridgetcooedoveranowgigglingCamilla.“Twoisevenworse.”
Nowthatthegamehadended,therestofthegrouphadbrokenofftodotheirownthinguntildinner.
Joshwasstilltrying(andfailing)togetNikotosayUncleJoshisawinner.
AvawastakingpicturesofAlexandSofia,whohadmovedontoclimbingoverherfatherlikehewasajunglegym.
Stellasatnexttome,watchingourconversationwithamusement.ShewasusedtomystrangefriendshipwithRhys.Once,shetriedtocallitabromance,whichIshutdownimmediately.
Ab-so-fuckinglutelynot.
Iwasnotabromance
kindofguy,andneitherwasRhys,whoappearedunfazedbymylastcomment.
“Youtalkalotofsh—fudge
forsomeonewho’salreadyeatenwordsonce,”heamendedwhenBridgetgavehimawarninglook.
“Comeon,sweetie.Let’sgolookattheprettyflowerswhileyourfather,uhhasachatwithUncleChristian.”ShescoopedupCamillaandtookherouttothegardens,nodoubtworriedwewouldslipintoprofanityatanysecond.
“I’llalsobeback,”Stellasaidquickly.“I’mgoingtogetsomewater.”
IwaiteduntilsheleftbeforeIarchedaneyebrowatRhys.“Noideawhatyou’retalkingabout.”
“Sureyoudon’t,Mr.IDon’tBelieveinLove.”
Aggravationlitinmychest.“Areyoustill
goingonaboutthat?It’sbeenfive…”IloweredmyvoicesoSofiaandNikocouldn’thear.“Fivefucking
years.”
“Oh,I’mgoingtogiveyoushitaboutitfortherestofourlives,sogetusedtoit,”Rhyssaid.“Andwhenyouhavechildren,you’lleatyourwordsagain.”Heleanedbackandlacedhishandsbehindhisheadwithasmugsmile.“Goodtrackrecordofthathappening.”
Icouldn’tstandhisass.
BeforeIcouldrespond,Stellapokedherheadoutfromthekitchen.“Christian?Canyoucomehere?Ineedyourhelpwithsomething.”
“Berightthere.”IroseandpinnedalaughingRhyswithacoolstare.“WhileIhelpmywife
,youthinkaboutwhenCamillagrowsupandstartsdating,”Isaid,wipingthesmileoffhisface.“Havefun.”
SatisfactionfilledmewhenIheardhislowgrowl.
WhenIwalkedintothekitchen,IfoundStelladowningwhatmust’vebeenherfifthglassofwaterthatnight.
“Areyousureyoudon’twantanywine?”Shewasn’tabigdrinker,butsheusuallyhadaglassortwo.“It’sagreatvintage.”
“Yes,I’msure.”Shesetherglassdownandlookedatmewithanoddlynervousexpression.“Ican’tdrinkalcoholrightnow.”
Shesaiditwithmeaning,likeIwassupposedtoknowwhatthatmeant.
Whywoulditmatterthatshewasn’tdrinkingalcohol?Granted,itwasabitoddthatshe…
Ican’tdrinkalcoholrightnow.
Ireplayedherwords.
Can’t.
Notdon’twantto.
Shecouldn’t
drinkalcohol,whichlikelymeant…
Mypulseslowedintoonelong,disbelievingbeat.
“Ididn’twanttotellyouinfrontoftheothers,butIalsocouldn’twaitanymore.”Stella’svoicelowered.“Christian,I’mpregnant.”
“You’repregnant,”Irepeated.
Thewordsechoedinmyhead,toogildedwithshocktosinkinfully.
Stellaconfirmedwithanod,herfaceglowingwithequalpartsexcitementandnervousness.
Pregnant.Babies.Our
baby.
Thebreathleftmylungsinonefellswoop.
Iclosedthedistancebetweenuswithtwolongstridesandkissedherfiercely,myheartthuddinghardenoughtobruise.
ForgeteveryuncharitablethoughtI’dhadaboutchildren.
Weweregoingtobeparents.
Iwasgoingtobeafather,andIwasgoingtoseeStellaswellwithourchild.Alittleboy,perhaps,withcurlsandbrownskin.Oralittlegirlwithhermother’sgreeneyesandsweetsmile.
Afierceprotectivenessgrippedmychest.
Thebabyhadn’tevenbeenborn,andIalreadywantedtoguardthemwithmylife.
Aboyoragirl,itdidn’tmatter.Allthatmatteredwasthattheywereours.
“Doesthatmeanyou’rehappy?”Stellaaskedhopefullywhenwebrokeapart.
Mylaughwasroughwithemotion.“OfcourseI’mhappy,sweetheart.HowcouldInotbe?”
IneededtofindthebestobstetricianinthecountryASAP,plusredothepenthouse(whichwascurrentlyasnon-childproofasitcouldget),takeStellashoppingformaternityclothes,bookababymoon…
“Well,youjustcalledourfriends’childrenlittleterrors,so…”Hervoiceheldateasingnote.
“Yes,butthatwon’tbeour
child.”
OurchildwouldneverdotomyhairwhatAlex’sdidtohis.
Stellagavemeawrylook.“AsmuchasI’dliketobelieveourbabywillbethefirstbabyintheworldthatdoesn’tscreamorcry,there’sachancethatwon’thappen.Iwantyoutobeprepared.”
“Idon’tcare.Theycouldscreamandcryalltheywant,andthey’dstillbeliketheirmother.”Ibrushedherlipswithmine.“Perfect.”
Asmallshudderofpleasurerippledthroughherbody.
“Iwasrightallthoseyearsago,”shemurmured.“You,ChristianHarper,areasoftieatheart.”
Ilaughedsoftly.“Onlyforyou,Butterfly.”
Ikissedmywifeagain,andIletherwarmthwraparoundmewhileourfriends’laughterdriftedoverfromthelivingroom.
Thescenewassocheesyandcozythattheold,pre-Stellamewould’vedespiseditonprinciple.Butthatwasthedifferencebetweenthenandnow.
Onceuponatime,Ihadn’tbelievedinlove.
Now,Irealizethatlovewasthelastpiecethat’dbeenmissinginthepuzzleofmylife.
Withit,Iwasfinallywhole.
***
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Tomyreaders—Thankyoufortheloveyou’veshownChristian,Stella,andtheentireTwistedfamily.Youarethebestpartofmylifeasanauthor,andyourkindmessages,reviews,posts,andeditsalwaysmakemyday.Iadoreyou.
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xo,AnaABOUTTHEAUTHOR
AnaHuangisasteamyNewAdultandcontemporaryromanceauthorwithaweaknessforangstandalphas.Herstoriesrangefromlightheartedtodark,buttheyallhaveHEAswithplentyofbanterandswoonsprinkledin.
Besidesreadingandwriting,Analovestraveling,isobsessedwithhotchocolate,andhasmultiplerelationshipswithfictionalboyfriends.