27. Brook
He saw me.
He finally saw me.
And it broke us again.
Baldo worshiped my body in the shower, making me feel wanted and beautiful. Making me forget, come undone and put back together.
I fell asleep in his arms afterward, and woke up to a note from him.
Gone away on business. Be back in a day or two.
A day or two?
I pace the streets mindlessly, not sure what to do with myself. A housekeeper showed up and I decided to go out, but I have no interest in sightseeing or discovering the city.
I wanted to write in a cafe, but I’m full of pent-up energy. So mad at him for running away from the situation. Or maybe he really had a business meeting he couldn’t postpone and forgot to mention it earlier.
I keep at my mindless traversing of the picturesque streets for almost two hours before my feet scream in protest, and I finally stop and sit in a small bistro near the water.
I order a coffee and the delicious sweet pastel de nata and open my laptop. I reread the last scene I wrote, but my mind keeps wandering to the events of the last few days.
I became a new woman, in some sense of the word. My first orgasms and Baldo’s need to please me helped me reclaim my body.
I didn’t even know I still needed that part of me to be complete.
In some way, I also got closure of my abruptly killed first love.
But my current relationship with Baldo is as unresolved as it’s ever been.
He didn’t find me repulsive, but if he doesn’t address the issue and deal with his own trauma that I’m sure my revelation caused, he’ll start to hate me. Not me, but everything I remind him of.
And maybe he already regrets everything, and that’s why he disappeared. It’s not like the man has shared one thought or feeling with me.
I opened up, but there was no time for him to reciprocate and speak up, or he skillfully diverted the topic.
I click out of the manuscript and click on video conferencing.
Saar answers quickly. “Give me a moment.”
Wearing heavy makeup and an elaborate hairdo, she scurries into a corner of some hangar or warehouse, leaving people behind.
A heavy metal door creaks and she steps into the sunshine. “Hey.” She smiles.
“Hey, where are you? Are you working? Am I interrupting?”
“Yeah, I’m in Madrid, I think. God, I’m so jetlagged I don’t even know.”
“That’s not far from me. Maybe you can come and visit when you’re done.”
“I’m stuck on set till midnight, probably. Why don’t you come over and we’ll spend the day together tomorrow before I have to fly out in the afternoon?”
I almost decline, but fuck, why not? I’m here alone. And this is Europe, after all. Nothing is more than a two-hour flight.
“Okay. Send me the address where you’re staying and I’ll wait for you tonight, if I can find a flight.”
She squeals in delight. “I can’t wait to see you and hear everything about your fake honeymoon.”
Groaning, I hide my face in my hands.
“Saar, get your ass back here.” A male voice comes from somewhere on the other side.
“What’s going on, Brook? Are you not faking it anymore? Are you together together?”
“Saar,” the same voice yells.
“You better go. I’ll tell you everything when I get there.”
I pay and rush outside, making my way to Baldo’s building.
“Brook?”
I turn and smile. “Chloe, I thought you’d be in Porto by now.”
The woman beside Chloe rolls her eyes. She has short hair, and her height barely reaches Chloe’s shoulders.
“Yeah, that got canceled pretty quickly. Is Baldo upstairs?” Chloe quips.
“He’s gone. I thought you’d know.” What kind of business would he need to handle without his second in command being aware?
“I thought when he made me stay here because he had an urgent personal matter, that the said matter was you.” Her tone is bitter.
I frown. “Oh.”
She shakes her head. “Never mind, perhaps I misunderstood and assumed you left with him.”
“I had to finish some work.” I’m not sure why I lie. He doesn’t deserve me covering for him.
Where did he go? So suddenly. And clearly lying about it to both of us. For all I know, he might have another wife somewhere. God, does he?
I’ll poison him if that’s the case. Stabbing or shooting would be too messy.
“Oh, this is Mary, my wife,” Chloe says, snapping me out of that imagery.
“Very nice to meet you. I’m sorry your weekend plans got canceled.”
“Well, we still get a weekend together.” She smiles. “If I can get this one to stay away from work.” She casts her eyes sideways at Chloe.
“I guess our spouses are workaholics, perhaps we should start a support group.” I attempt to sound upbeat.
Mary snorts and Chloe jumps in. “I’m not the one constantly away.”
God, the last thing I want is to be in the middle of their domestic dispute. “I’m sorry. I want to catch a plane to Madrid, if possible today, so I better go.”
“Oh, why don’t you get Baldo’s concierge to take care of it?”
Because, of course, if I was his wife for real, I’d have access to that service. “Oh, great idea. Thank you.”
If I was his actual wife, I’d also know where he is right now.
* * *
It’s almost two in the morning when Saar comes to her hotel room in Madrid. I startle when the door clicks closed.
“Sorry, darling, didn’t mean to wake you.”
I stretch on the small sofa where I was writing—or trying to—before I apparently fell asleep. “That’s okay. An hour more on this and I’d need a chiropractor.”
“Why aren’t you in bed?”
“My flight didn’t get in till ten, so I wanted to wait for you.”
She looks exhausted and stifles a yawn before she comes over and hugs me. “It’s amazing when you’re in Europe and we can just hang out like this.”
“Are you okay?”
“It was a taxing day, but nothing unusual. I’m starving. Let’s order room service.”
“Comfort food after midnight? My favorite way to wrap up the day.”
She giggles and orders way too much food and a bottle of wine. After she changes into sweats and a hoodie, she sits across from me with cotton pads and a bottle of makeup remover.
“Okay, so I saw the man, and oof…” She fans herself with her hand. “How is he, besides the obvious hotness?”
I snort. “Yeah, he’s hot, I’ll give you that. And extremely talented in the bedroom. He’s successful and a good businessman from what I’ve seen. He’s smart, brooding and aloof. I like it when he gets jealous, and he’s also really caring. Intense and hard to read, but confident in that silent, dominant way that makes your knees weak.”
Saar jerks the cotton pad away from her eye, cocks her head and studies me with a smile. Like she knows something I don’t. “Are you falling for him?”
I groan and rest my head on the backrest.
“God, no.” I’m not sure if that’s actually the truth, but I can’t let that happen. But then maybe I’ve been in love with Baldo for years. Or with the idea of us. I don’t know anymore. “He is the best lover I’ve ever had.”
She narrows her eyebrows, and I swear she can see my internal struggle. “Tell me everything.”
And I do. I tell her everything that happened since we spoke the last time.
“It feels like you’re together for real now. Are you?” Saar asks the big question and puts the cleanser bottle down, next to a pile of stained cotton pads.
“We haven’t talked about it. The man is like a vault. I don’t know what he’s thinking or planning. He doesn’t share. It’s like he uses his generosity in all the other areas, and there isn’t any left for words.”
“The conundrum of every woman—how to force him to talk without spooking him. Men are hopeless creatures.” She turns sideways and leans against the armrest, hanging her head backward, untangling her hair and massaging her scalp.
“And he hasn’t kissed me. On the mouth, that is.”
“What? He took care of your needs and had you thoroughly fucked, but no kissing?” She turns her head, her dark blonde hair cascading to the floor. “Well, I’m going to call it, but I think your dear husband is avoiding intimacy. Ironic, given all the action you guys have had in the bedroom.” She wiggles her eyebrows.
A knock on the door announces room service. Saar signs the bill while I remove the cloche from the steaming paella. The scent of herbs and seafood fills the room.
We open a bottle of Chardonnay, then settle down to eat the mouthwatering rice dish and sip the wine.
“I don’t know what to do with it all. I can’t even blame him for retreating. He needs time to process, and it’s probably best he does it away from me. But it’s like I got closure and he got the exact opposite, and somehow I feel responsible for that.”
“I know you do, but that’s not healthy. He chose to leave back then, and while it sucks that he has this delayed onslaught of shit dumped on him, it’s not your shit to clean.”
“You’re so poetic.”
She chuckles. “But the question is, once you sort through the painful effects of the events from ten years ago, where does it leave the two of you?”
I slump deeper into the seat. “I don’t know, because when I think about even a remote possibility of us, a real us, I want to pack my things and disappear.”
“But you can’t.”
“But I can’t.” Though the reasons are blurred now.
“And is it because you’re a good person who won’t let her inheritance support evil, or because you’re falling for the man?”
“Obviously I’m a good person. I think the girl in me never stopped loving Baldo. But the Baldo I married isn’t the same boy. I’m not falling for him. I don’t know him.” My chest constricts at the words.
“And yet…” She finishes her glass and stands up.
I follow, unzip my jeans, kick them off and crawl into bed. “There is no yet. I want to help him deal with the past, but if he’s going to be a stubborn prick… I would miss the orgasms, but I’ll just go back home and count down to the divorce.” I want to joke, but that loss would hurt.
Rationally, I know he’s not the only person to deliver orgasms, but he has been in my case. Am I healed now? Or forever dependent on Baldo’s skills? I groan inwardly.
“That’s still a year from now.” She sheds her clothes and puts on an old tee. It must have sentimental value, because Saar definitely doesn’t need to wear a threadbare shirt.
“Well, I literally survived worse. Whose T-shirt is that?”
I don’t want to analyze my life anymore, because more spinning in circles will just give me a headache. And I’m already suffering from the early stages of heartache.
Or rather its remains from ten years ago. That should heal soon, though. And then I can move on. And if Baldo opens up and deals with the trauma, he’ll be able to move on as well.
“It’s just an old tee.” But before she shrugs, she tenses for long enough to show it’s not just an old T-shirt.
“You used to wear an extra large?”
She slides under the covers. “I think you need to talk to Baldo, and if he doesn’t explain why he had an engagement ring on standby, why he never came back for you, and what is going on in his head now, you should set clear rules for your marriage, so you can survive the year.”
Still curious about the original owner of that T-shirt, I snort. “You think clear, straightforward communication is the way to go? It sounds so adult and boring.”
“It wouldn’t make for good TV, that’s for sure.”
“In any case, there is no future for us. Dad would have a heart attack, and his health is feeble as it is. No need to add stress. I’ve just gotten back and found my place with them, and I’m scared the two of us together would shatter that.”
“Brook, you’re taking responsibility for other people’s reactions again. You need to be more selfish. Yes, the two of you would be a shock for your family. But they would get over it.”
“Like your parents?”
When Saar’s brothers, Finn and Caleb, orchestrated a hostile takeover of their father’s firm, Saar supported them. Their parents stopped speaking to all of them.
“That’s different. My parents have always considered me and my brothers property to carve into their liking, to fulfill their dreams. They never loved me as much as yours. Love always wins.”
“Do you really believe that about love?”
“God, no.”
I chuckle. “Thank you for your pep talk, then.”
“I’ve been fucked up by my family dynamics, but your parents love you and they will understand.”
I sigh. “Life is unfair.”
“But full of fun.”
“I think if I’m with him for only one year, he can be mute, and I’ll take all the O’s I can. Why do I complicate things and want more?” I groan. “It’s funny how he insists on clear communication when it comes to sex, but outside of the bedroom he’s a closed book. I had to choose a safe word.”
Saar groans. “I need to get laid.”
We both giggle, then fall silent.
The problem is, I’m not sure I truly want Baldo to open up, because a part of me fears his rejection.
He wanted sex with me, but perhaps only because I opened that door with my drunken propositioning.
And as he pointed out, he is stuck with me for a year. Maybe sex with me is like his Maserati. Something to enjoy while he bides his time.
But his actions, the way he takes care of me… I can’t be just an easy lay. Can I?
A woman’s pleasure turns him on. Is his generosity just his normal MO, not special to me?
And where the hell did he go?
Against a background of Saar’s soft snores, I stare into the night, waiting for sleep to claim me, while dark intense eyes, brawny arms and a rare but alluring grin flicker through my mind.
* * *
A sound drills into my brain with relentless tenacity. It infiltrates my foggy mind and I pull my pillow over my head.
But it does nothing to cease the ringing attack.
“What the fuck?” Saar’s voice pulls me to reality. “Is that your phone?”
I groan. Of course it is. What time is it?
“Make it stop,” she pleads.
I push up on to my elbows, blinking, unable to locate the offending sound, when it finally stops. I drop back, but my relief is premature and the ringing returns.
Trying to untangle from the sheets, I manage to stand up, stumbling around the room before I find my phone on the charger beside the bed.
I glance at the caller ID. “John, this better be good.” I plop back onto the bed, yawning.
“Shit, sorry, I thought you were in Europe.”
My agent is based in London.
“I am in Europe. What time is it?”
“It’s ten o’clock here, so I guess eleven in Portugal.”
“I’m in Spain… never mind… What’s going on?”
“I can’t believe you sidetracked me with the time conversation—I have great news, Brook. They finally signed off.”
I sit up so fast my head spins. I blink a few times, my heart hammering against my chest, and then I squeal.
“Jesus, what’s going on?” Saar sits up in her bed, her hair sticking out in all directions.
“Congratulations,” John says in my ear.
“Thank you.”
“What happened?” Saar mouths.
“They agreed to all my requests?” I ask John.
“Mostly. I’ll email you the contract and the dates I need you to be here. They want you to meet the main protagonist.”
“Yes, of course. I can be there anytime.”
“We did it, Brook. Talk to you soon.” John hangs up.
I fall back and kick the air and pump it with my fist at the same time. “My book is becoming a TV series.”