Chapter 21
“The best husband awards are on the other side,” Lionel murmurs in my ear, making my body shudder at his nearness.
Smiling, I turn to face him, three small golden statuettes like those of the academy awards are in my hands.
“Unfortunately for you, the deal is three for ten dollars, and I already have all the ones I need.”
I raise the three souvenirs to see what they have written on the base. It is more than clear who they are for. One for my mother, another for Valerie, who will laugh hysterically when she sees the ridiculous gift, and another for my aunt Felicia, who’s been helping my mother with my bees the last couple of weeks. She’s my father’s sister, the only one who still lives in Carrollton, and we have a pretty close relationship.
Lionel presses his hand to his chest, in a somewhat exaggerated gesture. I know he was wounded quite close to the heart, the doctor told us in the hospital, an inch to the left, and it would’ve been a different story.
“Let’s pay for this, it’s time to up my game.” Lionel takes my hand and leads me to the register, where he pays for the awards, a few postcards, and magnets I picked out. Yeah, today I’m playing the tourist part. Souvenirs, check.
For about an hour, we have been wandering around the famous star-studded sidewalk. Having a new phone with the best camera on the market has its benefits, tonight I will be able to send a thousand photos to Valerie and my mother. I’m sure they will be over the moon.
“Are you going to take me to the wax museum?” I joke with him for the millionth time, making him roll his eyes in response.
“You’re out of your mind. I’m not going into that tourist trap,” he says.
“And I thought you were upping your game by making your wife happy,” I add, getting up on the balls of my feet to kiss his unshaven jaw. “Haven’t you heard that happy wife, happy life?”
His hands wrap around my waist as we wait our turn to pay. “It turns out, I know many other ways to make my wife happy, and none of them involve seeing celebrity wax figures.”
Now it’s my turn to roll my eyes. “You are so boring, Lionel.”
He laughs softly before murmuring in my ear, “I bet you will regret saying that later. I accept blow jobs as a payment method.”
“I married a romantic,” I sigh, complaining dramatically.
“I have my moments.” That is the last thing he says before it’s our turn to pay, and we leave the store holding hands to where the luxury black SUV that has been driving us around awaits.
“Where are we going now?” I ask him without taking my eyes off the window as the driver drives through the crowded streets. There is so much to see here, so many places I would love to go.
“The possibilities are endless,” he answers, and I’m sure it’s true. But I doubt the day will be long enough for that and he’s still recovering.
“What’s your plan?” I insist, and he puts his hand on my knee. The leather seats we are sitting on are separated, so more than a foot is between us.
“To make you happy, what else?”
And with that, our conversation is finished. It isn’t until the car stops in front of a small street that it’s impossible not to recognize. I’ve seen it thousands of times in magazines and movies, especially in Pretty Woman , one of my favorites. Valerie and I must have seen it at least a hundred times.
We get out of the car at the foot of the stairs next to the jewelry famous for its blue boxes.
“Do you want to go in?” Lionel tugs on my hand when he realizes I’m carefully watching every detail of the vertical lines that adorn the stone fa?ade.
“I can’t afford anything they sell in there, so window shopping is fine with me.”
He laughs. “You can buy whatever you want without thinking about it twice, believe me, we won’t be short on money just because you give yourself a little treat.”
I look at him out of the corner of my eye, focusing on the stores on the other side. Everything is just as I imagined, yes, but there are more people around.
“I don’t need any of that to be happy,” I declare. “Let’s go for a walk, it’s a lovely day and I don’t want to fight about money.”
“Who said we are going to fight about money?”
“Because you have no problem spending it and I prefer to be cautious.”
“What I said is…” he starts but I’m already going up the stairs, ignoring whatever he’s going to say.
I don’t want his money. Period.
In the middle of this, there is something I haven’t been able to forget. Lionel hid from me who he really was, his financial situation. He had his reasons, now I have mine for not trusting that if I receive something, it won’t come back to me like a boomerang and hit me in the face when I least expect it.
“You’re so stubborn, Stella,” he complains as soon as he catches up with me. “Tell me, did you bring an evening gown in your little suitcase, because you’re going to need one.”
Oh yes, and what for?
“I don’t plan to go to any party, thank you very much, so a dress isn’t necessary. And you know very well I don’t have one, I barely packed enough shirts when I came here, my mind was all over the place when I found out what happened.”
I turn to answer but I get distracted, he’s looking at me with his hands tucked into the pockets of his shorts. He looks so good with them and a simple cotton T-shirt on.
The man certainly won the genetic lottery.
“Are you not planning to go to the party Alexandra Conrad’s company is throwing for her clients?” he asks smiling a little.
“No, it wasn’t in my plans. I’m not her client.”
“But I am,” he adds. “Well, my company is, but I’m the CEO. The invitation was delivered last week, and I wouldn’t attend without my wife.”
That leaves me speechless. When Alexandra ordered the soaps, she never told me we would also be there, so I made no plans for it.
I’ve been definitely living one day at a time lately, not knowing what the next day awaits for me. Someone hand me a GPS, please. It would be good to know where the next stop is in this crazy race my life has become.
“You have your resources, I have mine,” I say, ending the discussion. “My suitcase is like Mary Poppins’s bag, surely I will find something appropriate in it.”
I keep walking along the narrow cobblestoned alley without paying much attention to the stained-glass windows. There are people around, some very stylish, shopping at designer stores, others just hanging out and taking photos. They all look so carefree, for a moment I feel envious of them, to be able to walk and just enjoy the moment. But immediately, I remember nobody’s life is perfect. Sometimes we keep quiet, put on a good front, and move on, not letting ourselves be defeated by life’s crazy circumstances.
I sit down on one of the benches that are surrounded by flowerpots in the middle of the alley and I close my eyes for a moment. I need it. To calm down, compose myself, and gather my strength to deal with Lionel again.
Many people think that because I’m a small-town girl, who hasn’t had the opportunity to see the world, I’m stupid. On the contrary, never judge a book by its cover, because appearances are deceiving. I’m a pretty quiet girl, but I know how to stand up for myself.
And it’s time to stand my ground.
“ Hvězda .” I hear him call me by the nickname he gave me and although I don’t admit it, I love it. It is unique, our thing. “It seems I always mess everything up…”
“Not everything,” I say without opening my eyes.
“Listen.” He puts his hand on my leg, approaching me. “I can’t help wanting to lay the whole world at your feet, to share everything I have with you, share who I am.”
“I don’t need your money and you know it. I can manage on my own perfectly.”
“What is the use of having a lot of money in my bank account when I can’t share it with you?”
Now I open my eyes and turn around, ready to face him in more ways than one. His beautiful brown eyes look at me with a mixture of concern and angst reflected in them.
“Oh, yeah? Since when? Because until a few weeks ago you asked me for money to pay your expenses, not only that but every expense of the house you made me rent because you were saving your money to buy the vineyard. Now I think it was another lie. Tell me, Lionel, since when do you want to share everything with me?”
In the end, money is the least of our problems, what really bothers me is the mistrust. Why not sign a prenup before the wedding to protect his fortune? Why did he do everything in such a strange and inexplicable way?
“Motherfucker,” he growls under his breath.
I remain silent, waiting for him to think about his defense. After a few seconds, he opens his mouth and starts. “I don’t want to lie to you, Stella, there are things I can’t explain because right now I don’t have the answers.”
It’s so frustrating when he replies without actually answering anything.
“Is that your excuse? That you don’t know what you were thinking when you made me fall in love with lies?”
He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes, as I did a little while ago.
“It isn’t an excuse, maybe one day we will find those answers together. For now, it’s the best I can offer you.”
I look at him and snort. No, it’s not enough.
“I need more than that, Lionel, and you know it.” Hot pure rage begins to run through my veins. “And don’t use what happened as an excuse, we both know you didn’t lose your memory.”
He looks at me, God, he has the most beautiful brown eyes I’ve ever seen. Every time he looks at me like that, the effect is the same, a thousand butterflies fluttering in my stomach.
“No, I didn’t lose my memory or plan to use it to justify what happened. But we also agreed to start again,” he tells me. “We can’t move forward if every time we take one step forward, we end up taking two steps back too. And you agreed to grant me a do-over.”
I look at him, lightning coming out of my eyes.
“Don’t use my words against me,” I reply and he smiles. Damn, the man knows how to use his weapons.
“You leave me no other option, baby.” He comes closer to me, his closeness overwhelms me, clouding my mind, and when he kisses me softly on the lips, I’m unable to function correctly. “Listen, let’s enjoy the day, but humor me please, and let me buy you a couple of things here and there, not because I don’t value what you work for but because I want to do it. Maybe one day we’ll feel comfortable enough to share everything.”
I look at him and consider what he told me for a couple of minutes. He’s right, we can’t continue like this. It’s complicated, but it is also up to the two of us to do our part and he’s fulfilling his end of the bargain.
“Nothing too extra, Lionel,” I concede and point my finger at him.
“What?” He smiles, knowing he has won this time. “Does that mean I can’t buy you diamond-covered shoes or a Lamborghini?”
I make a small gesture with my mouth. “I think your definition of extra needs revising.”
???
An hour later, it turns out it was easier than I thought, Lionel let me be. No wacky gifts or a dramatic Pretty Woman moment, no matter how insistent he was or the looks I got from the sales associates. But even a woman as frugal as me, has her weakness. At one luxury store, Lionel found a nice leather cross body bag, so soft it feels like butter, and a white summer dress in another. After that, I refused to cross the threshold at one of those dreamy places.
We walked around looking through storefront windows with our hands entwined, kissing and murmuring in each other’s ears like teenagers in love. Every time Lionel’s tongue touches mine, I’m tempted to rip his clothes off right here in the middle of the street or ask him to take me to some hidden corner for a quickie.
We have lunch on a restaurant terrace that looks like a cottage with a big garden, there are flowers everywhere, the atmosphere is happy and relaxed. The place is elegant, I don’t think there’s a single one around here which isn’t, but it’s not pretentious and the food is delicious. The table is covered with an immaculate white cotton tablecloth, and there is a porcelain vase that looks like a vintage jar with flowers. It was a good idea to come here, I really like it and hope to have the opportunity to return sometime, and also bring my mother. She would love to eat on the patio surrounded by bougainvillea flowers.
Lionel has ordered lobster ravioli and I, shrimp risotto. In the end, we ended up sharing, I think that starting with the food is a good idea.
Baby steps.
Also, he ordered a bottle of white wine, and we are on our second glass. On second thought, we needed this, to get out of the house and get some air. Relax, forget that we live with danger lurking about and be a couple like any other.
“More wine?” he asks as he lifts the bottle.
“Do you want to get me drunk to get under my skirt?”
“With or without wine, I always want to get under your skirt,” he says, a smirk pulling up his lips while gives me a wink. Then, he wipes his mouth with the napkin and after dropping the cloth on his lap, he rests his elbows on the table, leaning in front of me, like he’s going to tell me a secret no one else should listen to. “I have to up my game, I told you. But no, I don’t want to get you drunk, there’s still a place I want to take you to.”
Lionel runs his tongue over his lower lip and I want to be the one to do it. With my teeth. Who am I becoming? Some kind of minx or fiend?
Since last night all I can think of is being naked and in his arms. Well, that’s a lie, I’ve been thinking about it since the day we got home from the hospital.
“No more shopping, Lionel,” I warn him, but the smile on my lips lets him know I’m not upset. Not at all.
“One day, you should try, Stella. You deserve it and I have the means to indulge you as often as you want.”
A snort leaves my mouth. “Me? Or you, Mr.?”
“No more shopping today, ” he concedes after a minute of consideration. “Although I’m sure you’re going to like this.”
Lionel leans back in his chair and gestures to one of the security details. It’s easy to forget they’re there, they are a bitter reminder of our situation, but the men are discreet and know how to fade into the crowd.
The SUV appears in front of us as soon as we stop in front of the valet stand, only this time there are no tense silences between us. Lionel is dedicated to pointing out some famous buildings as we move down the boulevard. As we drive away, we see the famous Hollywood sign disappear behind us. “Maybe next weekend we can go for a walk in the hills, if you want.”
I respond with a smile, I really would like that, just to be with him. Sharing something new.
About twenty minutes later, the car enters a large parking lot lined with tall palm trees, beyond which the sun reflects on the surface of the…
“No!” I squeal in disbelief. “I can’t believe it, we’re actually here!”
“Yes, we are.” He smiles.
“Can we get out of the car?” Because I want to see everything and even get my feet wet.
Lionel brought me to see the ocean and I want to experience all the sensations.
“Of course.” He turns to open the door without worrying about someone doing it for him.
The smell of salt fills the air. The roar of the waves sounds like what I heard from the shell. I close my eyes for a few seconds, focusing on feeling.
He doesn’t need money to make me happy. He just needs to be himself.
“Don’t take your shoes off just yet,” he tells me as soon as we leave the sidewalk and start walking on the sand. “It’s so warm.”
He’s wearing leather flip-flops, so I guess he’s right. On the left is the famous Santa Monica Pier with the Ferris wheel and so many people walking everywhere.
I feel like a little girl as we walk closer to the shore. With less than three yards to go, I can’t take it anymore. I don’t mind if my feet get all blistered. I’m at the beach.
Lionel kept his promise and brought me to the ocean.
I untie my shoelaces and smile at Lionel. I leave my Chucks arranged with the socks inside and pick up my long skirt a bit so that it doesn’t get wet as I run off to chase a small wave.
I raise my hands without caring about the clothes when the water almost reaches my knees.
“I’m in the ocean, Lionel,” I yell again like it wasn’t obvious. I’m blown away.
“I’m aware.” He puts his hands in his pockets and although we are separated by a few yards I feel that we are closer than ever.
A thought comes to my mind as shocked as the wave crashing into my calves, splashing salty water everywhere, making me laugh out loud. The trick in life isn’t to have the perfect cards in hand, but to learn to deal with what you have.