Chapter 23 Peter
PETER
“You’re pining,” Benedict said from behind the reception desk at Matherson Manor. “I can’t focus on my work with you moping around. Either tell me what’s bothering you, or—”
“Or what? There’s no lake here!” Peter said, swivelling in a chair behind the front desk.
He knew he was being a bother, but all he could think about was being at the café with Faye, even though he was trying to respect her need for space.
He could have gone to the West Wing and left his brother to work, but being alone with his thoughts wouldn’t help him relax.
Benedict smiled, checking in several sirens, who persuaded him to upgrade their room and include complimentary breakfast for their stay.
“We have a fountain out back, and I do have a handy teleportation spell I haven’t practised in a while,” he said when they were gone. “Talk, or I’ll send you to Laundry to help.”
“I think Faye’s upset with me,” Peter said, sitting up straight.
“Think or know?” Benedict asked, getting up from his seat for his inspection of the hotel.
Peter shrugged, following.
“If you don’t know, then go talk to Faye.
Trust me, you don’t want to guess what’s happening in a woman’s head.
Just ask her. Talk,” Benedict said, heading up to the rooftop pool.
“I don’t need you following me around all night like a lost puppy,” he added, turning.
“I have enough on my plate without worrying about your love life.”
“I want to talk to her, but I don’t think she wants to see me,” Peter said anxiously. She had said she would get over her anger at his involvement in the competition, but she still seemed quiet and distant with him.
Benedict huffed.
“I don’t want to know about your relationship because I know the law. Lucy wants her friend to be happy, and I want you to be happy, so please be careful. I don’t want either of you to end up heartbroken,” he said gruffly.
“I have no intention of breaking her heart,” Peter said firmly.
“You always have the best intentions.” Benedict slapped him playfully.
“That’s what I’m worried about. Your relationship is not my business; you’re a grown man, and Faye can decide for herself.
But nothing stays a secret in Foxford. You work in the café now, and there have been whispers that you don’t leave in the evenings. ”
“You’re going to go grey if you keep worrying about me.”
Benedict ran his hand through his black hair. “It’s amazing I haven’t already. Between you and Lucy, I’ll start going bald like Dad.”
They shared a bittersweet smile at the mention of their father.
“You wouldn’t be as handsome.”
“No, but he would want you to be happy and for me not to worry so much.” Benedict sighed. “So, now that I’ve warned you like an older and wiser brother should, what did you do to upset Faye?”
“I meddled and didn’t tell her until later,” Peter conceded. “She wasn’t happy when she found out.”
“You had your first argument,” Benedict said, smiling as he picked up some discarded towels from the lounge chairs.
They had porters to clean up, but Benedict was always hands-on and never thought himself above any task.
Peter, on the other hand, hadn’t even noticed the towels.
“Now, it’s time for the fun part. Go make up.
Grovel, if you have to. Just please get off my couch! ”
Peter wished he would take this more seriously.
“I was only on your couch for one night. You wouldn’t be so put out if you gave me a room here.
” Wanting to give Faye space, he’d left her a note letting her know where he’d be.
He had hoped she might come looking for him, or at least call.
However, Suzy hadn’t had any messages when he called down to reception that morning. He didn’t know if that was good or bad.
“Rooms are for guests. Apologise, grovel, and bring Faye something she likes. With Lucy, books usually do the trick.” Benedict put the towels in the wash basket behind the bar.
“Faye likes plants,” Peter thought aloud. Then he recalled the pictures of Paris on her fridge and the desserts in the Parisian patisseries she used for inspiration.
“That’s a great place to start. Mrs. Crawford’s flower shop closes in twenty minutes. You can just about make it.” Benedict headed back to the lift.
“Benedict…”
“What now? I have two vampire weddings and a banshee’s sweet sixteen tonight. I don’t have time—”
“I was just going to say thank you,” Peter said as his brother stepped inside the creaky old lift that the historical society would never let them replace.
“Don’t thank me; just go and make it right.” The doors closed on Benedict before Peter could say another word.
Peter sat on Faye’s fire escape and tapped on her bedroom window. Despite her not opening the door or answering her phone, he refused to give up. His fear that something had happened only fuelled his determination.
“What are you doing? You’re going to knock my flowers off the balcony,” she snapped, opening the window with wet hair.
“I brought you a peace offering,” he blurted out, hoping it would soften her towards him. He sat awkwardly, mindful of the narrow escape route and the delicate balance of their relationship. He was here to make things right, not to make them worse. “Because it’s a peace lily.”
She hesitated, suspicion evident in her gaze as she examined the plant. Peter’s heart sank at the thought of her losing trust in him. But then a glimmer of softness appeared in her eyes, a sign that his efforts weren’t in vain.
“Cute,” she finally said, taking the peace lily before closing the window on him.
Taking the plant was a good sign, but he had hoped it would earn him an invitation inside. He tapped the glass again lightly as she placed the plant on her dressing table. She sighed and opened it.
“You should have warned me you were coming over. I didn’t know when you were coming back.” She avoided eye contact as she spoke.
“I tried to call.” He had rung so many times throughout the day he’d verged on feeling obsessive.
“And you didn’t take the hint when I didn’t answer?” She didn’t close the window, though.
“How did you know it was me?”
“Who else from the Manor would be calling me?”
“Lucy?” he suggested, but she wasn’t convinced.
“She wouldn’t call me from their phones,” she pointed out.
“Fair point,” he conceded. “I was just worried when you didn’t pick up, and then you closed the café.”
“I closed after the morning rush to pick up some baking supplies from Willow Valley. They sell in bulk to shop owners. And Ian is gone, so you no longer have to worry about me.”
“I’m still going to worry about you. You could have run into Ian’s friends, even if he’s out of the picture.”
“I went in the middle of the afternoon. I’m not going to bump into any vampires in the midday sun.”
He really wasn’t earning himself any brownie points.
“I missed you,” Peter said, tripping over his apology. “I know you’re mad at me about the competition, and I’m sorry. If you aren’t ready to forgive me, I’ll leave, but don’t shut me out.”
Faye still didn’t shut the window on him, which he considered a win.
“You won’t have to see me again, if that’s what you want.”
“Of course that’s not what I want. You’re the one who left and went to the Manor without talking to me first.”
“I thought you said you wanted space.” Peter winced at his own stupidity.
He didn’t want to make excuses; he knew what he had done wrong and needed to make it right.
He wanted to prove that he wasn’t like Ian, who had manipulated her and tried to control her life.
He needed her to know he was on her side and only wanted her to be happy, even if he had acted foolishly and immaturely.
“I was upset you didn’t tell me about the competition, but I was mad you just left,” Faye said, leaning against the window ledge. She still hadn’t invited him inside.
“I’m sorry, but I was trying to respect your wishes. I won’t leave again without talking to you,” Peter promised.
“Is that all?”
“No,” he sighed. “I’m sorry for intervening.
I should’ve listened to what you wanted instead of pushing you in a direction I thought would help.
You’re smart, thoughtful, and far braver than I’ve ever been.
You aren’t some fragile bird that needs coddling.
I need you to know that I wasn’t trying to control you; I just wanted you to appreciate your talent and not let anyone else’s words or actions hold you back.
I never considered the time you needed to heal and adjust to your new life.
I was wrong, and I won’t ever interfere unless asked.
I’ve spent the last ten years managing people’s deaths and emotions, and I struggle not to meddle.
But I’ll try my best, because I’ve hated every second of our time apart. ”
He tried to analyse her expression as he poured his heart out, but he couldn’t read her poker face. He thought she was going to close the window on him. Instead, she moved from the ledge.
“Do you want to come in? I think I’ve had more than enough space,” she said, a hint of a smile on her lips.
Peter didn’t need to be asked twice. He climbed through the window, not very gracefully. He caught his foot on the window sill and ended up tackling her to the bed. The laugh that escaped her healed all his worries.
“Sorry, did I hurt you?” He sat up, checking her over.
“I’m fine. You aren’t going to break me,” she said, lying beside him.
“I really am sorry,” he said, tucking her hair behind her ear. He always had to find some excuse to touch her, as if she would disappear from his grasp if he didn’t confirm she was real. “I should have listened instead of trying to help.”
“Stop apologising, please.” She rested her hand on his shoulder and shoved him playfully. “I’ve already forgiven you. I was madder at you because you didn’t come home, but I shouldn’t have pushed you away.”
“I’ll stop apologising, but the plant was only part one of my ‘sorry I was an idiot’ gift.”
“I don’t need any gifts.”
“It’s not technically a gift; I want to take you somewhere.”
“What about the café?”
“We can post a note saying we’re closed for the weekend,” Peter said, hoping she’d give in.
“The whole weekend? I don’t think I can take that loss,” Faye said, but he could tell she was intrigued.
“Yes, you can. I already covered the loss and put it in the safe.”
“I can’t accept that!”
“The Matherson fortune means nothing to me dead. Not like I can use it.”
“This is you not helping?”
“This isn’t helping. I’m buying your forgiveness. Will you come with me?” Peter pleaded.
“Where?” she asked warily.
“Yes or no?”
“I’m not a big fan of surprises,” Faye mumbled.
“You’ll like this one.” Peter winked. He needed her to trust him.
“What about Scarlett? I can’t leave her.”
“Luisa will look after her,” Peter said, having already asked. “I’ve given her a couple of cream cheese frosting bags, so the little demon will be too happy with her treats to notice you’re gone.”
“Okay,” Faye said quietly.
He jumped up excitedly from the bed. She grabbed him before he knocked into her hanging plants.
“Okay?!” Peter gawked, resting his hands on her waist.
“Yes! Don’t make me change my mind,” Faye giggled.
He squeezed her tightly. Gods, he never wanted to let her go.
Once Faye was dressed in jeans and a light jumper, he helped her throw whatever was on hand in her bag. He couldn’t wait to whisk her away, fearing any delay would cause her to change her mind.
She went to head out of the bedroom, but he grabbed her hand. “Are you ready?” Her puzzled frown made him chuckle.
“I’ve got everything I need. I’ll grab my keys, and we can go.”
He beamed. “We aren’t driving.”
“Okay…?” she said as he took her hand and picked up her luggage in the other, staring at the closed door.
“Don’t let go,” he whispered, kissing her hand.
The door opened, but instead of her apartment on the other side, there was a stark white emptiness.
“Have I died?” Faye gasped, staring at the light in awe.
“No, don’t worry, you are very much alive,” he told her. “Reaper doors are a much easier way of travelling long distances.”
“Long distances?” Doubt creased her brow.
“Just walk with me. Trust me.”
She nodded, and they stepped into the light.
Faye’s gasp was music to Peter’s ears. He didn’t care about the view, only the joy in her eyes as she stared out at the rooftops of Paris, then at him as reality set in.
“We’re standing on the Eiffel Tower?” she asked, clinging to him. He realised that heights might not be her thing. Still, he thought selfishly that he would take her to the highest peaks in the world if it meant having her cling so tightly to him.
“I told you it would be a good surprise. Welcome to Paris,” he chuckled, holding her tight so she’d relax.
“Paris? You brought me to Paris?” she beamed, her smile brighter than he had ever seen. “I’ve never even left Foxford. Willow Valley doesn’t count, but this is too much.” She stared out at the view with stars in her eyes. “Can you do this? Will you get in trouble for bringing me here?”
He couldn’t believe she was worried about him at this moment. “I can go anywhere in the world. One of the perks of—”
“Being dead. You don’t have to remind me,” she grumbled, and he wondered why she seemed genuinely upset. She snuggled closer to him as the wind picked up, changing the subject. “What made you pick Paris?”
“You said you were struggling to feel inspired, so I thought, what better place to bring you than here? Besides, your fridge is covered in pictures of patisseries,” Peter said, wishing he had brought her here earlier.
“It’s been on my bucket list since forever. I never thought I’d actually get to see it,” Faye said, tears in her eyes.
“Please don’t cry,” he said, holding her face and brushing away her tears.
“These are happy tears!” She smiled.
“Why don’t we do some exploring?”
The tears dried up immediately at the prospect of seeing the city.
“We’re really staying?” she asked, with a wide-eyed stare.
“You didn’t think we’d come all this way just to admire Paris like a painting, did you? I told you it would be worth closing Stoker’s for the weekend.”
“We’re really staying for the whole weekend?!”
Faye’s excitement made him chuckle. It was like she couldn’t believe him. “I’ve booked a hotel from your mood board,” he explained.
Her shriek was deafening. “The George VI? You really are my dreams come true!” She squeezed him so tight that it would have cut off his air supply if he’d needed it.
He couldn’t give her the rest of his life, but he could at least make her dreams come true for what little time they had together.