9. Sienna
9
SIENNA
There’s an envelope waiting for me in my mailbox when I get home this evening. It crinkles in my hand with the weight of another problem. My legs feel sluggish as I climb the stairs up to my second-floor apartment.
I should still be buzzing from the gallery opening. This should be the most exciting time of my life—I finally have everything I ever dreamed of. Well, almost. But it feels as if the men in my life are conspiring to keep me from reaching my happy place.
I only wish I knew why.
Are they in this together? Do they have a group chat on WhatsApp where they confirm their plans for me over the next twenty-four hours?
Kyle must’ve sent Bash to the gallery to keep an eye on me. I think . I’m not sure, but I can’t ignore the timing. Then my father showed up. And Nick… It feels as though Nick isn’t giving me a moment to think, whisking me away on a lunch date before I’d even had a chance to process my father’s visit.
Did Nick speak to my father on the street corner, or did I imagine it? He knew that Kyle had been doing some background research on him, but how? I’m no tech whizzkid, but it doesn’t all add up to the Nick I thought I knew.
Then, I hit a mental brick wall when I think about my father.
He displayed zero emotion when he was introduced to Kyle, and I can’t even begin to consider the kind of people he associates with. I’d rather burn my painting than allow it to hang on his friend’s wall.
I switch on every light in my apartment as I walk through to the narrow galley kitchen and drop my purse and unopened mail onto the counter. I open the refrigerator, pull out the bottle of prosecco that I was saving for the opening night, and pop the cork. I didn’t open it before because Victoria was in labor, but tonight, I feel like I need it.
I take a huge glug before easing out of my coat and draping it over the end of the counter.
The letter is staring at me. I could leave it till morning, but it’ll be a bug crawling through my dreams all night. Best to open it now, even though I sense it isn’t good news.
Here goes. I try to empty my mind as I slide my finger underneath the flap and rip the envelope open. It’s from my landlord. He’s giving me two months’ notice to vacate my apartment.
Deep breath. I fold the letter in half with shaky fingers and stuff it back inside the torn envelope.
Two months. Plenty of time to find somewhere else to live…
Who am I kidding?
Aside from the fact that affordable apartments are scarce in the city, I don’t have the money for a down-payment. Sure, Caleb’s money funded the gallery, but I still put every cent I’d ever managed to save into it myself, and who knows when I’ll see any profit from my work. My father kept his word and cancelled his friend’s appointment, but my other meeting didn’t result in a confirmed sale either.
The only good thing to come out of today was Bash’s commission, but even that was manipulated by Kyle.
The intercom next to my front door buzzes, and I take my glass of prosecco with me to answer it.
“Sienna, it’s Nick. Can I come in?”
My stomach drops. Why can’t he leave me alone?
Then I remind myself of all that he has done for me since I was first referred to him, how vulnerable I was, his endless patience trying to minimize my scars and restore my confidence. Guilt blossoms inside my chest. Nick is a good guy. It isn’t his fault that I’m not attracted to him in the same way he’s attracted to me, but the least I can do is give him a chance I suppose.
“Sure.” I hit the button to open the external door downstairs.
Moments later, Nick appears in my doorway with a bunch of flowers, vibrant orange gerbera, red and purple anemones, and white stephanotis.
“You brought flowers?” I take them and instinctively bury my face in the bouquet and inhale the scent. “They’re beautiful.”
“Like you.”
I flinch. It’s so smarmy, so cheesy, that I have to compose my features before I stand aside and let him in.
“How did you know where I live?” The question bursts out of me.
“Your medical records?” He fills the space in the airless hallway. Too close. Squashing the flowers between us. “It’s confidential information, but I figured that we’re friends. Aren’t we?”
“Sure.” The uneasiness is back, swirling around inside my gut.
I walk back to the kitchen, put down my glass of prosecco, and busy myself arranging the flowers in the only vase I possess.
“Prosecco?” His voice and his eyes follow me from the other side of the kitchen, which isn’t far. “What’s the occasion?”
“The gallery.” I don’t look up from the flowers. “Art. Life.”
“Very philosophical.”
I sense rather than see his smile as I stand back to admire my arrangement. “Shit. I didn’t offer you a drink. Sorry. It’s been a long day.” I take another glass from the cupboard and fill it with bubbly liquid for Nick, then I refill my own glass.
“Anything I can help with?”
I lean back against the counter, sip my drink, and shake my head. We could go into the living room, but I feel exhausted suddenly with the weight of the landlord’s notice hanging over me, and I want to go to bed.
Alone.
I don’t want Nick to get too comfy or get the wrong idea that he can stay.
“It’s fine.” That word again: fine . Anyone in their right mind can see straight through it; it’s the word we all use when life is a million miles away from fine. “I’ll manage.”
Nick’s eyes flicker across my face as though he can access my thoughts through my pores. “Sienna, you don’t have to do everything alone, you know.” Pause. “I want to help.”
I smile. “Thank you, but I don’t think you can.”
“Try me.” His eyes hold mine, but he doesn’t move any closer.
“I need to find somewhere to live.” I shrug. “My landlord has given me notice to get out of my apartment.”
“Okay.” His expression is bland. “Do you have somewhere in mind?”
“Nope.” I sip my prosecco. The bubbles are not helping to blur the edges. Yet.
“Look, I already know what you’re going to say, but there’s a spare room in my apartment if you want it. Even if it’s just temporary. Until something more permanent comes along.”
“I can’t.” I shake my head, my thoughts drifting with the movement like bees following pollen in the breeze. “It’s generous of you, but you’ve already done enough.”
Too much.
“Well, it’s not entirely selfless.” He watches me coolly. “I have a vested interest in you, Sienna. I enjoy your company.”
Here’s the part where I’m supposed to reciprocate the compliment and say that I enjoy his company too, but I can’t bring myself to put the words out there.
Unfazed by my gap-mouthed silence, Nick adds, “I hope that we can spend more time together. No pressure though. The offer is on the table if you want it.”
He downs his drink and leans over me to place his empty glass next to the sink. He’s close enough to kiss me, and I press my lips together, willing him to back off. I don’t want to kiss him. It’s the first time I’ve admitted it to myself, but now that I have, I need to figure out what this revulsion has to do with Kyle.
He does back off, and I release a shaky breath.
“Think about it, Sienna. That’s all I’m asking.”
My dad’s words pop into my head unbidden. Just, please, give me a chance. That’s all I’m asking .
“I will.” I feel numb.
“I’ll see myself out.”
I don’t move. I’m rooted to the floor, those four words flashing like a neon sign inside my head. That’s all I’m asking. That’s all I’m asking. That’s all I’m asking .
Maybe it’s time to leave the city.
But I don’t want to leave. I’ve lived in New York all my life, and I shouldn’t be forced to move away because of Nick. Or my father. Or Kyle.
Perhaps I could sleep in the studio behind the gallery until I find a place that I can afford to rent. It isn’t designed to be lived in, and my stuff would have to go into storage, and what if it took six months to find another apartment?
No. I’m not encroaching on my studio space.
I miss Victoria. Swallowing another mouthful of bubbles, I message her:
Hey, how are you doing? How’s my beautiful goddaughter?
Then I add: Are you awake?
Within moments, Victoria is video calling me.
“Of course I’m awake.” She angles the phone so that I can see the baby suckling on her nipple. “I’ve forgotten what sleep feels like.”
She looks tired, dark bruise-colored smudges under her eyes, and her hair scrunched up into a messy bun on top of her head. But her happiness oozes down the phone.
“I can’t wait to meet her.”
“When are you coming over, Si? I miss you, and honestly, Holly is already changing. She’s so alert. Her eyes follow her daddy around, and she settles the instant he holds her in his arms.”
I smile. “She’s going to be a daddy’s girl.”
“I’m gushing, sorry.” Victoria scrunches up her face in apology, but the grin isn’t going anywhere. She’s smitten. “What have you been up to? How are things with the gallery?” She glances at the wall, and adds, “Why are you calling me so late?”
“You called me, remember.”
“Did I? Wow, my brain is even foggier than I thought it was.”
“The gallery is great.”
Her eyes narrow, and she lowers her voice. “What’s wrong, Si?” She knows me too well.
Where do I start?
“My father is back from the dead.”
She blinks back at me. “What does he want? I hope you told him to get lost.”
“He wants to put things right.” I twist my mouth into a lopsided smile.
“I repeat, I hope you told him to get lost.” Victoria holds the phone closer to her face. “You didn’t, did you? Please don’t tell me that you’ve spoken to him in person.”
“I had to, V. I wanted to hear him out.”
“And?”
“And now…” I tilt my head back and sigh heavily. “He turned up at the gallery yesterday.”
“Sienna.” Victoria’s voice is firm. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, you know. I’ll speak to Caleb about it in the morning.”
“No, please don’t. I don’t want any trouble.”
“Do you want him in your life?”
I thought the answer would be simple. A straightforward no. But it turns out only people like my father find it easy to walk out on family. I know I don’t owe him anything. I know I don’t need him in my life, so why is it so difficult to say it out loud?
“Promise me that you’ll stay away from him, Si,” Victoria says. “Men like that never change.”
“I know.”
We’re both quiet, both watching the sleeping baby in Victoria’s arms.
“Have you seen Kyle?” she asks.
Before I can answer, the baby starts fidgeting, and Victoria drops the phone. Her face reappears briefly. “Sorry, Si. Gotta go. I want to hear all about it when you come over.” She ends the call.
I can’t ask them for help with finding somewhere to live. They’ve done enough already. I refill my glass and toast myself. “You’re on your own this time, Sienna.”
Kyle’s car is waiting outside my apartment block the next morning.
I put my head down and start walking, but the driver’s door opens, and Seamus gets out.
“Sienna?” He calls me back. “I can give you a ride.”
“I don’t need a ride.” I glare at him and keep moving.
His footsteps follow me.
I freeze, turn around, and grip the strap of my purse over my shoulder.
“I know you’d rather not get in the car with me,” Seamus says, keeping his voice low, “but Kyle asked me to get you safely to work, and I’m just following orders.”
I inhale deeply, filling my lungs. “Tell Kyle you missed me. Tell him I left before you got here, or, I don’t know, I wanted some exercise.”
He nods once. “Don’t look around now, but the guy sitting in the black car with tinted windows has been watching your apartment for the past three hours.”
I go to look around because it’s human nature; someone tells you not to do something, and you instantly have to do it.
“Don’t look,” he hisses under his breath.
I stop myself. “If the windows are tinted, how do you know he’s watching my apartment?” I don’t even know why I’m letting myself get dragged into this conversation.
“Maybe it’s because every time he has a cigarette he gets out of the car, leans against the hood, and stares at your front door.”
I swallow. “Maybe he’s waiting for his girlfriend.”
“That would explain why he rolled his window down when you walked outside.” Seamus’s eyes twitch. “I don’t want to frighten you but?—”
“You could’ve fooled me.”
He inclines his head, conceding the point. It doesn’t make me feel any better. “But, another guy has jogged past your building more times than I can remember since I got here. And before you say he’s just jogging, ask yourself why he would take photographs of your building as he passed by?”
I stare at him, trying to reassemble my thoughts. “How did Kyle know they would be here?”
“You told him that you were being followed yesterday.”
Did I? So much happened after I saw the guy in black, I’d pushed it from my mind.
“Okay. Can you take me to the Wraith?”
Seamus smiles, making his ginger moustache twitch. “I thought you’d never ask.”
“What the fuck is going on?” I don’t hold back once the door to Kyle’s office closes behind me. “Who are those people following me around?”
“Sienna.” Kyle makes the mistake of raising both hands to calm me down.
I bat his hands away. “Don’t tell me that you don’t know who they are. That’s what you do, isn’t it? Find out information and make it go away.”
“Can we sit down and talk about this calmly?”
“How can I be calm when there are strange men watching my apartment?” My voice is already shrill, and I’ve barely started.
Kyle gestures to the coffee machine, and I nod.
While he fills two cups with steaming black coffee, I sit on one of the couches in his office, which is almost as big as my entire apartment. His computer screen is locked. His desk is neat, not a piece of paper or a stray pen in sight. If anyone had asked me to describe his office without seeing it, that’s probably how I’d have pictured it.
Kyle places a cup in front of me and sits on the sofa on the other side of the low, glass coffee table.
I swallow a mouthful of the black liquid too quickly and my eyes water. “So, do you know who they are?”
“I think I can hazard a guess.” He cradles his cup in both hands as if trying to keep warm.
“Are you going to enlighten me, or is it on a need-to-know basis?”
“Sienna, I’m trying to protect you.”
“Why do I need protecting? Until a week ago, I was perfectly happy in my little apartment, grabbing a coffee-to-go from Starbucks on my way to work, and not a tinted window in sight.”
His lips quirk into a half-smile.
“Until you came back from Ireland,” I add.
He flinches. But he doesn’t deny it. “I think you should move into the Wraith for a while.”
I almost choke on my coffee, and liquid splutters across the glass surface of the table. “What the actual fuck! We fuck a couple of times, and you want me to move in with you?”
Way to go, Sienna. I see the hurt in his eyes, and I don’t even try to suck the words back in.
“No, I told you there was no pressure, and I meant it. You can have one of the executive suites. It’s not ideal, but I’ll feel better knowing that you’re safe.”
I put my cup down, too hard, and wince as it clangs against the glass. I stand up and pace the room. My landlord serves me notice to vacate my apartment, and now this. It’s all a little too convenient. Too much at once. It’s almost as if Kyle planned this so that I’d be closer to him. First stop, an executive suite, next stop his bedroom.
I stop pacing and face him. “Did you tell my landlord to write to me?”
Kyle furrows his brow. “No. Why did he write to you?”
My jaw is still clenched so tightly it hurts, but I think I believe him. “I need to find somewhere else to live.”
It hits me then like I’ve been slapped with a wet towel: I thought I had two months’ grace, but Kyle is making it sound as if I need to get out now.
“That’s settled then.” His voice jolts me back to the increasingly painful present. “I want you to move into the Wraith today. I’ll ask Lauren to get a suite allocated to you.”
A week ago, I had my gallery opening to look forward to, and now… Now, I feel as though I’ve slipped through a glitch in the galaxy and ended up in a parallel universe where everyone looks the same, but underneath the surface, they’ve turned rotten.
“No, Kyle. I can’t stay here.”
“Why not?” His eyes scrunch up in confusion.
“I can’t afford to pay for a room here let alone an executive suite.”
“I’m not asking you to pay for it, Sienna. I’m trying to keep you safe.”
“That’s just it though.” I run my fingers through my hair. “You shouldn’t need to keep me safe. I don’t even know what’s going on. Do they want to hurt me? Are they trying to kill me? What have I even done?” The questions come tumbling out all at once.
Kyle rises and crosses the room to stand in front of me. “I-We think that they’re being employed by Nick Morris.”
A snort escapes my nostrils before I can stop it. “Nick!” My voice sounds incredulous. “That’s what this is all about? You and Nick? He’s a cosmetic surgeon for fuck’s sake. He’s not a mafia assassin.”
“Okay, maybe not Nick then. Whoever Nick is working for.”
“No.” I step away from him, shaking my head. “What evidence do you have?”
“Sienna, I need you to listen to me, and I’ll try to explain.”
“Oh, please do.” My breathing is shallow, and my brain is spinning, trying to keep with this new revelation.
“Nick was right, I was investigating his background.” Pause. If he’s doing it for dramatic effect, it’s working. “It turns out that we share the same father. Nick’s father is Caelan Murray. He murdered Nick’s mom and tried to murder our mom too.”
“I… What does this have to do with me?”
“That’s what I’m trying to find out.”