“Is the meal not acceptable to you?” Malik asked, bringing me back to the moment and the company.
He gestured to my untouched plate of lobster and scallops with a knife and arched a brow.
I reached for my silverware. “Sorry. Just distracted tonight.” Flashing him a smile I hoped appeared honest, I said, “My apologies.”
“Forgiven.” His penetrating gaze seemed to evaluate me for several moments before he took a bite of his own meal.
Between bites, he told me about his family’s history and his house. I asked appropriate questions at appropriate times, feigning interest. I became truly interested only when he told me about the gardens at the back of his house that were currently hidden in darkness. While in Colorado, I had learned to love nature and its simple beauty and majesty.
But while Malik spoke, I felt apprehensive and uneasy, stuck in a chair at the most disastrous job interview. He was trying to prove himself worthy of my family and me, while at the same time, I was under interrogation to see if I was a fitting wife. A trophy wife. A sign of his strength.
He was charming and smooth. I couldn’t deny that. I also believed he could have his choice of women. The fact he wanted me spoke volumes. He was raised in a family similar to mine, where impressions and perceptions were more important than what was hidden behind the veil, what was spoken in private rooms. He was willing to do anything to get what he wanted, which was success, money, and more power and more influence.
I wanted a home and a family and a career I was proud of.
“Dinner was delicious,” I said when I’d finished not only my entire plate but also a small plate of tiramisu that was deposited in front of me while he spoke of gardens and hedges. “And the view here is truly lovely.”
“I hope you will return again, see the land during the day. I have no doubt you’ll be impressed.”
I was sure I would be. If I had any intention of stepping foot inside the house again. Yet, because of my deeply ingrained manners, I found myself saying, “Thank you for this. The stars are lovely out here, out of the city.”
“It’s my pleasure, Gabriella.”
I forced myself to maintain a smile while at the same time I tried to figure out how the evening could end without risking blatantly offending the man. I needed time to figure out how to walk away without pissing off my father, Rilotti, and my mother at the same time. Fortunately for me, his phone beeped on the table, illuminating the screen with an incoming call. Malik glanced down, scowled, and then pushed it to the side.
“You can answer if you must,” I said politely.
With an almost sheepish grin, Malik leaned back in his chair. “It would be rude of me. I’m sure it’s nothing.”
I went to insist, only to again be cut off by more ringing. “Please.” I waved my hand in his direction. “I’m not offended.”
With a quick nod, he pushed back from his chair. “If you’ll excuse me then, for just a moment.”
I returned his polite nod and reached for the bottle of wine. Then I enjoyed the crisp, fruity flavor as it hit my taste buds, listened to the crickets chirping, and reveled in being able to see the stars. The night was cloudless with the faint hint of a crescent moon near the edges of a row of trees. It was so peaceful once Malik stepped inside and I was left alone with my thoughts.
My memories of Tyson.
How lobster and scallops in a beautiful setting couldn’t compete with Cherry Yo-Ville. Any day of the week, I would choose yoga pants and fro-yo over cloth napkins and crystal goblets, much to my family’s dismay, and perhaps my own.
“I apologize again, Gabriella,” Malik said, his voice a bit more clipped than before. “Unfortunately duty calls.”
I quickly pushed back my chair. “I understand.”
“If you don’t mind, I will have Johan drive you back to the hotel. I have other matters to attend to.”
I smiled freely. It sounded perfect. “That will be fine, honestly, Malik.”
His eyes did that calculating scan thing, and I saw only a hint of a disappointment in his glance when he reached my smile. I was too obvious. Too happy to be away from him.
“Very well.” With a sweep of his arm, he gestured me ahead of him. “Thank you for a lovely evening. And hopefully there will be more to come,” he said quietly when we reached the front doors. Johan stood with his back against the door, keeping it open for me to walk through.
I turned around and smiled again. “Thank you for dinner and the stars.”
He leaned forward, brushed his lips across my cheeks, and whispered, “Thank you for being you.”
Unfortunately, as I said my final goodbye and followed Johan to the waiting car, I didn’t think that was a compliment.
I could find nothing good about me or my current position.
—
I was halfway back to my hotel, sitting in the back of the town car with Johan at the wheel, when I checked my phone for the first time since I’d stepped into the Apollonio Hotel lobby hours ago.
I grinned, only to have it immediately falter after I read a text from the person I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about.
Blackbird: Client’s dinner was canceled. Can I see you?
The time stamp was three hours ago, and it was too late for me to see him now. It was almost nine and after the day I’d had, exhaustion had already begun making my eyelids heavy.
Me: So sorry. Just received this and on my way home. Raincheck?
I frowned when I don’t get an immediate response and then shook off the ridiculousness. Sliding the phone back into my clutch, I told myself it was no big deal.
After arriving at the hotel, I gave my thanks to Johan and the valet before heading straight to my room and stripping off my fancy dress and heels. I threw on a tank top, washed my face, and brushed my teeth while my lethargy increased with every moment. By the time I finally collapsed into my bed, intent on falling asleep immediately, I was barely conscious when my phone on the nightstand began vibrating.
“Hello?” I asked, my voice already sounding tired.
“Did I wake you?”
My lips stretched wide as I recognized Tyson’s voice. “No,” I said, quickly sitting up in bed and adjusting the pillows behind my back. “I’m awake, just tired. How was your night?”
A deep sigh echoed through the phone, hitting my ears, and then doing funny things to my lower belly as it vibrated through me.
“Long,” he finally said and cleared his throat. “I’d give anything to be in that room with you right now, though. Are you in bed?”
“I am.” My tank top suddenly felt too hot for my skin. I imagined Tyson picturing me in the bed where he woke up that morning. The thought to invite him over flickered through my mind, but I pushed it away. It was too late. “What are you doing?”
He huffed. “Packing, actually. Which is a bunch of bullshit.”
“For what?”
“Business trip,” he said in a harsh tone, his frustration loud and clear.
“Want to tell me about it?” I asked. The heavy silence made me hesitate. “Or not,” I quickly said, and ran my hand through my hair.
“Wish I could,” he murmured, “but my cases are generally confidential. Do you know what I wish for more, though?”
“What?”
“That I was next to you, tasting you, and inside you. I haven’t thought of anything else since I left your room this morning.”
A delicious shiver rolled down my spine at his words…along with the mere thought of him doing what he suggested.
My thighs pressed together and I shifted in the bed.
“Wow,” I said, breathing out the word.
His chuckle vibrated through the line. “Sounds like you want that.”
I did. So much. I hummed my agreement—he’d left me speechless with just a thought. What would happen when he made good on that promise?
“How about I call you when I get back into town?”
“Sounds good,” I murmured, still thinking of how good it felt the other night when we were together in a way that was delicious…just not enough.
“Sleep well, Blue,” he whispered.
“Night, Tyson.”
I hung up the phone and slid under the covers. Then I fell asleep with a dreamy smile on my face and the memories of a boy who I used to love, and the man he’d become.
Chapter 9
The week slowly trudged by and I found myself falling into a mundane rhythm of waking up, getting dressed, heading to my parents’ house where I spent the day in the kitchen with Clarissa, and distractedly searching for jobs but barely finding anything I could apply for.
Throughout, I knew I was distracting myself from sending texts to Tyson or reaching out to call him. I didn’t. He had made it clear he was going out of town for work.
But unfortunately, I continued to be contacted by a man I was having a hard time ignoring. Flowers arrived at my hotel on Tuesday, courtesy of Malik. On Wednesday, he called to see if I would be his date to some sort of political fundraiser he was attending a week from Saturday.
Seeing as how my father had already told me about it and my presence was expected, I simply told Malik that I planned to attend but would be accompanying my father since my mother was unable to this year. Malik either didn’t catch on to my complete lack of interest in him, or he simply didn’t care. Perhaps he figured my opinions didn’t matter that much, and upon further reflection, that didn’t bother me at all.