Chapter 12
Alex
Damn it, what am I doing wrong? Why hasn't she texted back?
Annoyed, I set the smartphone aside on the large counter in my kitchen and turn back to my breakfast, which consists of scrambled eggs with a generous helping of bacon, two slices of toast, a black coffee, and a pancake to finish.
But I'm just shoveling the food down, and it's only on the last bite that I realize my housekeeper must have been a little too generous with the salt today. I wash the aftertaste down with a big gulp of coffee.
Even the news, playing at a minimal volume on the iPad in front of me, doesn't hold my interest. Instead, I find myself wondering once again what's wrong with this woman.
Her behavior is so atypical. She's driving me a little crazy. First, she lets me kiss her—and the kiss was definitely one of the best, tasting so much of sex and forbidden desire—and then she just leaves me standing there, gets into a taxi, and drives off.
This whole thing is getting more and more complicated, and I feel like I'm no closer to explaining the situation with the shop to her and making her a reasonable offer. Will she be more receptive after we've slept together and become friendlier?
I don't know, because nothing about Beth can be pigeonholed. She's just... different!
Maybe that's exactly why I can't stop thinking about her. I was up half the night, typing out draft after draft of messages. Even last night, while she was in the taxi. But I kept deleting them, because how would that have looked?
She'd bolted. Fled from the kiss and what might have come next. A hasty message was definitely not the right move.
So I decided to wait until breakfast, and lo and behold: she actually replied. And even better, she apologized and explained that she wants to take things slow because she got so hurt last year.
I apologized again for that, and I truly meant it, because I was fuming for a long time back then about that bitch Dilara and her behavior. And all because she probably wanted to get in my pants.
Besides, that was a good sign: she wanted me.
Everything was going according to plan. A few more dates, maybe with a little fun, and I could tell her about my plan and the branch locations, and maybe she'd even come up with the idea herself of how perfect her shop would be for it. Wouldn't that be perfect?
But since I asked her about fifteen minutes ago, suggesting we discuss how to move forward, I've gotten...
Nothing!
She's just stopped replying. And it's driving me insane. I clench my fists and wonder if a woman has ever left me hanging like this multiple times: the almost-kiss in the shop, the kiss in front of my car and her exit, and now this. Usually, I'm the one who takes his time responding, but...
"Hey, Cutie," I say when I feel something soft weaving around my feet. The stray cat that found me seems to be awake.
I set my silverware aside, pick her up, and scratch her back. "Yeah, you appreciate my affection, don't you? Eric said you're doing better. I'm glad to hear that," I say to her, and she rewards my scratching with a contented purr.
Eric, my assistant, had taken her to the vet. The wound was stitched up, and he was told it would heal completely. He also had some "Lost Cat" posters with her photo put up at my direction. But no one has called.
Somehow, I'm glad about that, and I'm on the verge of telling Eric to have the posters taken down, because I'd really like to keep Cutie.
"Have you eaten yet?" I ask Cutie and set her down on the floor. I open the cupboard with the cat food and fill the two bowls on the floor next to my chair, so we can both get back to our breakfast.
"Well, you like the food here, don't you?
You'd like it if you could stay, huh? Who would want to go back to an owner who just left you here, injured?
" I say to Cutie, who briefly looks up at me from her food, giving the impression that she understood me.
But a moment later, she's engrossed in her food again, and I grin to myself.
I never knew I liked cats. But I just like her demeanor, which radiates a certain elegance.
"Sir?" I hear a familiar voice behind me and spin around.
"Eric. I'm not finished yet. Later," I say with a dark look as I see him standing at the kitchen entrance.
On days when I go into the office later, he often comes here, and we discuss the day's business after my breakfast. It saves time and is better than the constant phone calls.
But he has instructions to leave me alone during breakfast. My entire workday is punctuated by interruptions and calls, so I want my peace and quiet at breakfast, at least, and he's supposed to know that.
"I know, sir. But it's HER. Dilara. She's at your door and..."
"At this hour?" I ask, glancing at the Breguet on my wrist, which I believe costs more than some single-family homes.
I used to think I needed something like this.
And yet, all it does is tell time. But now that I have it, I might as well wear it.
Besides, some of my visitors admire me for it.
And best of all, its value has increased since I bought it, despite my wearing it.
"Didn't you tell her I'm not available?"
"I wouldn't have come if I hadn't tried. She won't be turned away. She also says it's important."
"I thought I had an assistant for this sort of thing, one whom I had, until now, considered competent," I reply with a sigh, setting my silverware aside and standing up.
"My apologies, boss. I just thought..."
"Take care of today's meetings. We'll talk about it in a minute. I'll just handle this quickly," I say, leaving him standing there and making my way to the door.
Dilara. She's in for a nasty surprise. What in the world could be so important? She was my competitor's assistant. This was surely just a trick.
"Dilara. I don't want to..." I begin abruptly as I open the door, then pause, because I had expected a lot of things. But not this.
"Like what you see?" my ex-assistant asks me. She's actually standing right outside my door with her breasts exposed, having apparently unbuttoned her blouse in the time it took Eric to come get me. I guess a bra isn't required in Jake's office, and I'm pretty sure I know why.
"Put those things away and cut the drama," I say, gesturing to her breasts, which she had done back when she worked for me.
That much is now obvious, as the pair of them seem to defy gravity.
Strangely, I feel wrong looking at these breasts, but where else am I supposed to look when I open my own front door to send an uninvited guest away?
I turn to the side, pretending I can't stand the sight, and an image of Beth flashes before my eyes. Has she replied, maybe? And will she believe me when I tell her about this encounter?
"Alex. I want you," I hear her voice and see out of the corner of my eye, through the fingers of the hand I've put over my eyes, that she's coming toward me. Suddenly, I feel her pressing her tits against me.
"Are you out of your mind?" I ask her, instinctively pushing her away from me, and feel the anger boiling up inside me. I quickly glance around: is there a photographer anywhere to be seen? Is she supposed to take a few compromising pictures with me? What the hell is this all about?"
You didn't used to be like this. What's wrong, Alex? Why don't you want me?" Dilara asks, sounding almost hurt, now holding her unbuttoned blouse over her breasts as if she suddenly feels uncomfortable.
"Why did you come here and do this? Can't you just keep screwing Jake and leave me alone? Why don't you just go?" I snap at her irritably, pointing toward the exit.
"Are you afraid you might like taking me from behind? Is that it?" she asks, sniffling.
"Just so you know, I'm dating a woman right now. We went out to dinner last night and we're going out again tonight and..."
"The flower lady?" Dilara asks, the contempt in her voice unmistakable. "Did you kiss her? Or get her into bed again?"
"I don't see how that's any of your business. But if you must know, yes, we kissed." Then I pause. "How do you know..." I ask as it suddenly dawns on me.
She knows from Jake. Is she just here to snoop around and find out if Beth slept here?
"Get lost, Dilara. Now!" I say, and this time, there's no hurt or sadness in her face. As she turns without protest, I think I even saw a smirk. What is going on here? Is this another one of Jake's underhanded games?
I turn back, go into the kitchen, briefly scratch Cutie, who has just finished her meal and is trotting contentedly toward her bed, and glance at my smartphone.
Still no message from Beth.
Dilara's visit is making me nervous, and I wonder what Jake is planning.
"Eric," I call out loudly, and my assistant pokes his head through the door again a moment later.
"We're leaving. We'll swing by the flower shop on 4th Street on the way to the office. We'll discuss the meeting agendas on the way. You drive and wait in front of the flower shop."
"Alright, sir. I'll just quickly pack up and..."
"Hurry up. I think we should get there quickly," I say, and Eric nods, quickly retreating. I wonder what I'm going to say to Beth if we get there before Jake or Dilara. And even worse: if we get there after one of them has told her some nonsense.
******
"Wait here somewhere," I say as we pull up in front of Beth's flower shop thirty minutes later, which felt like an eternity.
Of course, we didn't discuss a thing, and I just tried to reach Jake, who naturally didn't pick up, while feverishly wondering if I should just call and warn Beth.
But what would I have said? Besides, her reply was still pending, and I didn't want to make things more complicated than they already were.
Maybe it was a false alarm? There was always a chance. So better to let sleeping dogs lie.
"But where? All the parking spots are taken and..." my desperate-looking assistant replies, flinching as the cars behind us start honking because my Bentley is blocking the lane. He seems to be out of it today. He also got lost twice, forcing us to take a detour that cost us at least ten minutes.
"You'll find a solution. That's what I hired you for," I say gruffly, getting out and heading toward the shop's door, feeling my heart start to race.
Then the shop door opens. At first, I assume it's a customer, but when I see the familiar face with her now-buttoned blouse, I'm briefly at a loss for words.
Dilara is just coming out of the shop, giving me a wicked grin. "Good luck, sweetie," she says, winks at me, and saunters off without paying me any more attention.
"What did you do, you..." I yell after her angrily, knowing at the same time that it's pointless.
"Shit," I mutter, and with a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach, I open the door and enter the shop.
"Well, look at you. I can't believe you have the nerve to show your face here," I hear Beth's voice before I can see her.
"Beth. Whatever she told you, it's not true. It's..."
"Right. All lies, huh? Just like this picture?" she asks, holding out a print that shows a topless Dilara snuggling up to me in front of my door. I wonder how many pictures were taken, because it captures the millisecond when I was about to take my hand down and push her away.
In the picture, however, it looks like I'm about to grab her and screw her, or God knows what else.
"It's not what it looks like," I say, knowing how ridiculous that must sound to Beth, who also seems to have tears in her eyes.
I'm furious. At myself, at Jake and Dilara, and I wonder if I should just tell her that this whole circus is just because of her shop's prime location and a stupid rivalry between Jake and me.
But the tears in Beth's eyes tell me that wouldn't make it better. It might even make it worse, and I really don't want to hurt her. I kind of like her. In a weird way, since I don't really know what this thing between us even is.
Is it the thrill of not being able to have her whenever I want? Is it just about the shop after all? Or both? At the moment, it doesn't matter, because her expression tells me we're definitely not going to dinner today. She'd probably rather jump off a bell tower than sit at a table with me.
"That's the stupidest explanation I've ever heard. What does it look like to you, Alex? Did you kiss her, too? Did she go inside with you afterward and not run away like I did?" Beth asks, her voice shrill and audibly hurt.
"She doesn't work for me, she works for my competitor. For Jake. You know him, he's been here before. This was definitely a dirty trick to..." I stop myself. Shit. Should I just say it?
"To what, Alex? To piss me off?" Beth asks.
"That's exactly it."
"That's even dumber than your 'it's-not-what-it-looks-like'," she snaps, crossing her arms over her chest. Her cheeks are flushed, and if looks could kill... I'd love to take her in my arms and explain, but the picture is well-shot and... Ah, damn it all to hell!
"Listen, Beth. Let's go to dinner tonight. I'll explain everything. She just showed up at my door topless and had a photographer hidden somewhere. Nothing happened, I..."
"We are definitely not going to dinner, Alex. And save your explanations and just go now," Beth says, sniffling and pointing toward the door.
"Beth, really. Nothing happened. She just..."
"I don't want to hear it, Alex. Please, just go."
For a brief moment, I hesitate. But I don't want to start explaining everything all over again. She's too emotional, too upset. It's not going to work here and now. I have to give her some time and then try again, and hope that complete idiot Jake hasn't ruined everything.
"Fine. I'll go now. But I'll be back," I say quietly, turning and walking slowly toward the door.
"I hope not," Beth snaps.
I turn back, and for a long moment, neither of us says a word. The lines seem to be drawn. Then I hear a noise from somewhere, like someone screaming. A baby? Is that Veronica here again?
"I have to go now and... I have things to do. Now go," Beth says.
I nod to her as she disappears toward the stairs, and hope that I haven't lost her, and the shop, for good.