Chapter 10 ~ Alexander #2
“He’s upstairs. He has this week’s orders and receipts. I’ll turn in tonight’s tallies at closing. Will you be here or gone by then? Home to the Misses.” He smiles and slaps my shoulder.
I don’t return his smile. I can’t and I rub my chest again. We need space. I can’t think of any other way to remedy this.
“We’ll see,” I say and tap the bar with my knuckles and make my way through the crowd to the stairs leading to my office.
Carlos is right behind me; I tap my key card and open the door.
Christopher is sitting at my desk, one hand gripping his hair as he reads something in his hands. I close the door and he looks up, dropping his hand hard on the desk in surprise, his hair sticking straight up.
“You okay, brother?” I laugh. “You look serious.”
“How the fuck do you not go crazy? This shit is a nightmare, man. Taxes, employee benefits, vendors, as well as pissed off vendors and pissed off employees. I’d rather face a sniper than deal with this shit.” He drops his face on the desk, mumbling, “I’m so glad you’re back.”
I sit down in the chair in front of him and smile. I undo my suit jacket and cross my legs.
“Who’s pissed off now?”
Chris lifts his face and looks at me. The spot where he had his cheek pressed against the desk is now pink.
“The way it feels today? Who isn’t? But I handled it.” He holds his head with both hands, his hair sticking out between his fingers as he rests his elbows on the desk.
“Just… I was having such a great week. It seemed fairly easy, till today.”
I laugh at him. “Get the hell out of my chair and go home. I’ve got this.”
I come around the desk, shaking out of my suit jacket as I do, and Chris stands up; I give him a shoulder hug as we clap hands.
“Go home, brother, sleep. I’ll text you if I have questions.”
“Thanks, man.” He knuckle bumps Carlos as he walks out. I pull out the chair and take a seat. On my laptop, I open the last two weeks of sales and my calendar.
“Fuck!”
Carlos sits down in the chair I just vacated. “What?”
“I have a charity event Saturday night.”
“And?” He mumbles.
Exasperated, I look at him. “And? That means I’ll have to drag Mrs. Never talk with me.”
“She’s your wife, Alex. She’s supposed to go to these things with you. Take this as a chance to try a fresh approach with her.” He slumps back in the chair.
Whatever! He doesn’t get it and I am not explaining it. I wanted to give us space. This is just going to put us right back in the spotlight. Anna said she hates crowds. Well, this is going to be more crowded than the wedding and she’ll more than likely just run off on me again.
My brain doesn’t have the space for her anxiety right now. It’s five days away and I’ll deal with it when the time comes.
I give him a quick glance and go right back to work. “You can go home, or head down to Silk and see Triss.” I point at the computer. “I plan to be here most of the night.”
He raises an eyebrow. “You’re not going home tonight?”
I keep typing, “No.”
He nods his head up and down and purses his lips. I stop typing and tilt my head to the side. “What?”
“Nothing, brother. I’ll head to Silk, check it out and get an update for you.” He makes his way to the door. “If you change your mind and want to go home, just call. I’ll come pick you up.”
“No need. I’ll be here all night.”
I spent most of the night getting caught up on paperwork and office business and fought the urge to see how Isabella was doing.
I kept picking up that damn phone, only to throw it back down on the desk.
I’m still pissed about the whole thing, but wanting to see her makes me just as crazy as her not talking to me.
Eyeing my watch; it’s 2:30 Am. Carlos has long gone, Marcus dropped off the tallies for tonight, and my headaches and I need to sleep. I rub my eyes with my thumb and forefinger.
Flipping off the lights and turning off the computer. I drop on the bed, kicking off my shoes and pulling off my belt, dropping it to the floor, stripping down to my boxers, and sliding into bed.
I’m exhausted, but I can’t stop the voice in my head from screaming anymore, and I bring up the cameras in Isabella’s room.
It’s dark save for the light from the bathroom door half open.
I scan the room, looking at her bed, and she’s not in it.
I sit up quickly, turning the camera to focus on her studio door; it’s open.
But as I look, I can see a lump on the couch.
I zoom in; she is curled on her side, her hair still in that crazy bun on top of her head, sleeping. Her hand tucked under her chin, her legs up close to her belly. Just like last night when I found her asleep in the hotel sitting room. I lay back down and put the phone beside me on the pillow.
I’d like to go back to last night and start all over again after we fucked.
I would stop myself from talking about Sebastian.
He’s my brother, and I know he won’t overstep any lines with her, and I don’t think she would either.
It just feels like a kick in the balls that he can get her to talk and open up with him, whereas all I get is a wall.
I click my phone off, plug it in, and toss it on the nightstand. I am so done with today.
~ ~ ~
The week follows the same pattern; I wake up, check on Isabella, work, and sleep. I want to go home, see her, breathe that lily scent, and run my fingers through her black silk hair again.
I thought the time away would be better, making things go back to some sense of normalcy. All it did was turn me into a man obsessed with his phone, stalking his wife via a security camera.
The worst part is, she seems happy I’m not there. She wakes up, eats, and spends most of her day in that fucken studio. Sasha said she’d been out to the garden a few times, reading by the pool. At night, she sits in that window seat staring out until she’s ready for bed.
She still won’t sleep in her bed. Every night I watch her as she comes out of the bathroom, picks up that stupid pink fuzzy blanket and curls up, hugging a pillow to snuggle down on the couch. I don’t know why she hates that bed, but I’m getting sick of watching her refuse everything I give her.
I watched her day after day, picking up the dead flowers off the coffee table.
I sent a new bouquet, but she put it on the floor by the door.
She’s constantly picking up dead leaves and putting them in a bowl.
Like those dead flowers mean something. She touches the dead stems and her face hardens, and she goes back to her studio for hours, only coming out to eat or do her nightly window seat stare.
Plus, I’m pretty sure she broke my dick.
I went a few times this week with Carlos to Silk, checking up on things, rubbing elbows, and approving new members.
We took in a few shows and had a few drinks to discuss business while we watched the performances.
And not once did I get hard unless I pictured her jade green eyes, long black hair wrapped around my fist, and the sounds of her passionate moans in place of theirs.
I can’t even spank one off unless it’s her image I picture in the throes of passion. God, she was magnificent. She was quiet, but her body spoke volumes. Her body was tight, arched up underneath me, her mouth open wide in a silent scream before she came apart around me.
Fuck!
I adjust my hard-on and bring up my phone to check on Isabella. Her dress should arrive today. The charity event is tomorrow night, and I wanted to surprise her with something special for the event.
I chose a full-length jade green silk gown and matching shoes to compliment her eyes.
I bought diamond teardrop earrings and a simple teardrop pendant to hang around her neck.
The earrings will be delivered along with the dress, but the necklace I kept with me.
I’m putting it on her just to be near her, to smell her lily perfume and to touch the delicate flesh of her throat.
I pan the camera around her room; she must be in her studio again; she’s not anywhere in the room unless she’s left it for once.
I scroll through the feeds, finally finding her out on the back patio, reading in one of the lounge chairs by the pool.
It’s a cool evening. She has her cream sweater on with her feet tucked up on the seat, her knees bent with the book open on her lap.
The wind is whipping wisps of her hair into her face that fell out of her long braid.
She licks her finger and turns another page, holding her hair away from her face with one hand.
I zoom in closer on her, and she looks up at the camera and my gut drops.
She must have heard the telltale buzz of the camera lens zeroing in on her.
She is so goddamn pretty.
How could I ever, for a second, think she was plain? She tilts her head to the side and her eyes narrow at the lens. I can feel the heat in my cheeks like a kid with his hand in the cookie jar. I feel like she can see me. That she finally caught me spying on her.
She watches the camera for a few minutes and then goes back to reading. I click off the app and put my phone in my pocket.
Putting Isabella out of my mind, I return to work, finish the liquor board reports, and try to get ahead of next week’s schedule. I rub the back of my neck. My shoulders are tense from hunching over the computer for hours.
I check my watch: 11:45 p.m. Is it really this late?
It’s Friday night, and I should really stay here tonight, but Chris did an excellent job, and Marcus hired a new bartender, so he now has the help he requires.
The bar is gathering momentum, and if we keep it up, it will virtually run itself.
I’ll hire a couple more people, get additional help for Marcus when he needs it, and then all I have to do is pop in every now and again to keep it all running.
If I plan on making this thing work between us, I have to be home to do it. I get up out of my chair, turn off the laptop as I stand, stretch out my shoulders and text Carlos.
Alex: I’m ready to get the fuck out of here and go home. Where are you?
Carlos: Finally.
Alex: What’s that supposed to mean? Finally?
Carlos: What it means, finally. You’ve hidden out long enough. You can’t avoid her forever.
Alex: Fuck you. Meet me downstairs in 10.
Carlos: Already here. Move your ass. I’m tired and I want my bed.
Alex: Coming.
The drive back to the house is quiet. It has been a hard week, and both of us are tired and exhausted. Carlos drops me off, I say goodnight, and I hurry up the stairs and open the door. Danny is leaning on the wide banister at the bottom of the stairs, texting on his phone.
He looks up, “Boss.”
I nod, “Danny.” I come to a halt at the bottom of the stairs, one foot on the first step, and look at him. “Anything to report?”
He puts his phone in his pocket. “No. She’s been in her room most of the day. Sasha said she ate all her meals. She’s sleeping now. “
Looking back up the stairs, “Thanks, you can head home. I’ve got this for the weekend. I’ll text you if I need you.”
“Cool.” He walks away as I head up the stairs to my room. The hallway is dark, it is so quiet. I stop at my door and then look over at hers. I can’t help myself. The feeling in my chest is growing stronger and I just need to see her.
I open the door quietly, and just like a week ago, I creep over to the couch.
A dark patch on her bed makes me look over, and the dress and shoebox are lying on top.
She hasn’t opened either of them. The bows are still in place and the little jewelry box with her earrings sits unopened on her nightstand.
Something sharp stabs my chest and I can’t explain it. I’m pissed she couldn’t even make herself open a gift from me. But what exactly did I expect? She won’t even talk to me, so what made me think she’d be excited about a present? I turn back to the couch, gingerly making my way over to her.
There are no twinkling lights to illuminate her sleeping form, but there is a dim glow from the bathroom.
She must hate the dark; she always has a nightlight or the bathroom light on.
I edge my way around the couch and she is burrowed under her pink fuzzy blanket, feet curled over one another, poking out from under the blanket, her hand tucked up under her cheek as she hugs a pillow to her chest.
I sit on the coffee table, resting my elbows on my knees as I watch her. Her breath comes out long and even, her face soft in the glow from the bathroom light, making her look almost surreal with her coal-black eyelashes fanning her creamy white cheeks.
Christ, she makes my chest hurt and I rub it.
Her lily scent permeates the air, and I close my eyes and take a deep breath.
Gently, I move a piece of hair out of her face and run my finger down her pedal-soft cheek.
I’ve never really missed anyone before, but at this moment, I can say I missed her face and her smell.
Getting up; I close her door quietly and cross the hall to my room. I get undressed and flop into bed, roll over and punch my pillow. Maybe we can have a normal breakfast with no yelling and choking on her coffee. Maybe she will actually stay for the entire meal.