Chapter 17
S CARLETT
I woke up at six in the morning.
Six o’clock? In the winter break?
That never happens.
I maybe slept five hours, if that.
That man knows how to kiss.
His knocking on my door destroyed all my dire predictions.
I did everything I could to hide how I felt about him.
Our back and forth in the car made me nervous and anxious, annoying the hell out of me. And yet, it only made me want him more, whichmade no sense.
None of what we did made sense.
Yeah, why would a man do to a woman what he did to me?
Was he jealous?
Yeah. Maybe? But why? I was working.
What did I do? Nothing.
I took orders and smiled at our clients while collecting tips.
He was so deliciously annoying about having to defend his position. And I fell for all of it.
Truth be told, I loved it.
I loved that he drove me home. And I loved that he was honest with me to some degree.
I didn’t like that he had given me the runaround, but in the end, I said, ‘You know what? Fuck it. What do I have to lose?’
I kissed him and took his breath away. I could see it in his eyes. It wasn’t that I’d mastered the art of kissing and bringing a man to his knees, but he liked me anyway.
He liked me being frivolous and taking a risk with him.
He liked me going for it. For him. I had no plans with that kiss. I just wanted to do it and did it, and the way he reacted to me increased my confidence tenfold.
I liked him then, and I liked him even more when I opened the door, and he kissed me like he meant it.
Like he had withheld that kiss for a while, and he didn’t want to give it to me, afraid that I might run for the hills.
I wanted to run for the bedroom, but I knew what kind of cat-and-mouse game we were playing.
I’ve never been more in sync with a man in my life.
I know we don’t have all the answers, and we are doing things, random things, to see what comes out of them, like him wanting to be my driver.
Are you kidding me?
He is the man who will be my driver? And my bodyguard, I suppose. And who knows what else?
Having a towel wrapped around my damp hair, I slather on moisturizer to keep my skin soft and smile.
A smell of coffee drifts from the kitchen.
I take my makeup case and mirror with me and bring them to the kitchen table before shuffling my way to the counter.
I pour myself a cup of coffee, and getting a whiff of it, I move back to the table.
My bathrobe and slippers keep me warm. Too warm, perhaps. Or maybe it’s the thought of him.
Ewan blank blank .
Who knows who this man is?
Who cares?
I smile again.
I’m sure every bad decision in the history of bad decisions started like that. With a big ‘Who cares?’.
Later, I blow dry my hair and look in the mirror.
The concealer does its job, hiding the black circles around my eyes, my shiny hair erasing that impression that I haven’t gotten a wink of sleep.
I’ve had better nights than this.
After bumping into things after he left last night, I took a shower and mindlessly watched some replay of a show on TV. I couldn’t even remember what the show was all about when I went to sleep.
The idea that I’d see him again made me dream the weirdest things. I was getting lost in the woods. And then, in a big ass house. I hope it’s not his.
My brain made no sense.
Still grinning, I head to the walk-in closet and dig deep for a pair of sleek black pants, a crisp button-down white shirt, and a warm, plush red jacket.
I locate my over-the-knee flat boots, and happy with my selection, I check the time again.
I could have breakfast before he comes.
There isn't much time for a fancy breakfast, so I make myself a sandwich and eat it while standing, filling two metal mugs with press-on lids with coffee.
Ten minutes to eight, I’m ready.
Travel mugs in my hands, eyes on the driveway, my clothes on, and my little backpack slid over my shoulder.
There’s only one thing I didn’t take into account.
What if he doesn’t show up?
I’m not questioning how reliable he is. Well, I am, but that’s another story. What if something happens and messes with his schedule?
He can’t even call me. Because we haven’t even exchanged phone numbers.
Everything has felt like a stroke of luck these past few hours that I've forgotten about the little thing called life.
I forgot how obnoxious it could be.
I remember how often Joachim couldn’t make it on time anywhere, even for important stuff. Or at all.
And I can’t have that now.
Miss Stolz will throw a fit if I don’t show up on time.
She has a doctor’s appointment at nine-thirty, and I don’t want to screw with that.
My eyes are fixed on my phone as the digital clock turns eight o’clock sharp, and disappointment sidles up to me.
Please don’t be like him. Like my ex. The corners of my lips pull down.
It’s one minute past eight.
I put the travel mugs down, move to the door, and walk outside. The trees and lawns are covered in frosted snow. It’s cold, and the sky is dark, some faint light wrapping around the houses.
The silence is thick as no car moves down the road.
He tricked me, is my first thought, and having experience with this, I spin on my heel and move to the house, ready to make different arrangements, when the hoarse sound of a car engine reaches my ears.
I turn around and look up the road, and sure enough, I spot his truck.
I wave at him, although he’s far away, and quickly move toward the house, smiling again.
He just scored big points with me for not letting me down.
SCARLETT
A few hours later
“Yes, Miss Stolz. Mousy has been great. She slept well,” I say on the phone, petting her dog. “Yes. We’ll go out right now. Don’t worry. We’re both fine. Okay… All right. Mm-hmm. Thank you. We’ll talk.”
I end the call and drop my phone into my backpack before leaning into the back of her couch.
What a beautiful view her condo has.
In the distance, behind the fog, the water stretches wide. Gray and freezing cold. A few snowflakes sway in the wind, and my mind goes back to this morning.
Seeing him again made my heart sing.
I rarely had the chance to meet a man without some practical reason.
Whoever the person was, we either worked together, went out together, or he was one of the people fixing stuff around the house.
No matter how friendly I was, I could never have a male friend. Although Joachim liked to believe he was my friend, he was far from what a true friend is.
Ewan is not my friend––I’m not a kid to believe that––but he behaves like he is.
And considering that I’m someone who’s never had a male’s attention without an ulterior motive, I enjoy the new experience.
He was clean-shaven this morning, his dark hair swept back, and he wore nice-looking yet comfortable clothes.
He put some thought into his appearance, and I appreciated that.
His disposition was calm and neutral in many ways. Not too warm, and not too cold, but friendly enough so it didn’t feel like he didn’t want to be there.
I offered him a cup of coffee, and we chatted all the way to Manhattan. We talked about my job, the private school where I work, Long Island, my neighborhood, and little Colley, as well as my love for children.
I was relaxed and in a good mood.
And having a conversation with a man like two adults? It was the best thing ever.
The time passed quickly, and soon, the roads started to get busier, and I directed him to where he needed to take me.
We entered Manhattan a few moments later, and for some reason, he suggested we should exchange phone numbers. I was thrilled, although I let nothing out.
I put his number under Ewan. And he put mine under Miss Scarlett.
In front of the building, I thanked him and acted like we wouldn’t see each other again.
For sure, not today, but things didn’t work as planned.
He asked me to text him when I was done so we could make the trip back together.
He said he’d take care of some business in Manhattan but we could coordinate our schedules and return together.
Never in my life have I met a man like him.
Smoking hot, well-mannered, and above all, behaving like an adult.
So, now that I’m staring out the window, it’s not the gray buildings that I’m seeing. It’s mostly his penetrating eyes and subdued smile.
I look at the clock on the end table.
I should go out with Mousy in about fifteen minutes.
Miss Scholz wants me to respect her dog’s schedule, and I do everything I can to abide by her rules.
Curled up on the couch, Mousy sleeps next to me, my hand resting on her back when the weather seems to change outside.
It snows less and less, and the cloud pulls apart as the sun chases away the fog.
Before long, a large patch of blue sky gleams over the city, and the clouds move even faster.
The bright sun paints everything in a golden light, the last specks of snow floating in the air before they completely disappear.
It must be viciously cold outside, but isn’t it beautiful?
I rise from my seat, move to the wall of glass, and peer outside. People walk briskly, and I see their breaths, which only confirms it’s brutal outside.
Still, I can’t wait to go out.
Bryant Park is not far.
Mousy and I could spend a few moments there.
I return to the couch, grab the dog’s coat, and put it on, although she protests a little because I just woke her.
“We have to go, pumpkin. It will be short. I promise.”
It probably won’t be short. I know her. Once she gets outside, it’s hard to bring her back.
I put my coat on and scoop my phone out of my backpack.
Should I text him that I’ll be at the park?
He said I should send him updates. I end up texting him.
Me: I’m at the park.
That’s it. He probably knows which park.
Bryant Park is the only park in the area.
Five minutes later, I’m out the door, my backpack dangling from my shoulder, the little dog pressed against my chest.
We exit the building a few seconds later, and I let her walk.
She’s not crazy about the cold––we’ve already established that––but she gets the hang of it once a variety of smells hit her sensitive snout.
“That’s my girl,” I say as we start walking.
Minutes later, we enter the park.
Brr. It’s freezing cold. But I’m not the only one venturing on the snow-covered alleys.
Mousy does her business, and I pick up after her before tossing the poop bag into the garbage bin when an unmistakable voice rings behind me,
“You’re a natural,” the man says, and I spin around with a blush nipping at my cheeks.