9. Nice Try #3
“Nah. He belongs with you.” I heard her heels against the wood as she walked away, ending the conversation before I could read too much into it. “This is a nice space though. What do you use it for?”
“Storage.”
“Of course,” she muttered, glancing around. “Everything that has potential here is either covered in dust or rotting away.”
I leaned against the wall, watching her move through the room. “And what would you do with this space?”
“Me?” She turned back to me, fingers tapping her chin as she thought about it. “I’d make it a wine tasting experience. Open seating. Views of the vineyard. The whole shabang.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. That beautiful glass you have at the offices would fit the vibe so well. And this place is in drastic need of a make over.”
I just looked at her.
“What?” she asked.
“Nothing,” I said. “Just good to see you finally taking an interest in the company.”
She scoffed. “I had interest yesterday, remember? You shot it down.”
Rain started coming down harder against the roof, filling the silence for a second.
“I know,” I exhaled. “Look. I don’t want you to think I’m just some asshole who says no without reason. I just don’t like to be questioned about my decisions and the systems I have in place for this company to run. It’s not easy to do what I do. Still, I was out of pocket yesterday. I’m sorry.”
Her brows lifted. “Wow. This must be some kind of magic shed.”
I scoffed. “You’re silly.”
“Okay, well,” she said, holding up her hands. “I apologize too.”
“For?”
She gestured down at her outfit. “Do I gotta say it?”
I looked her over once. The rain made her dress see through a bit and even I can’t deny, that dress was perfectly fitted. And the heels were always a plus.
I could only imagine what Wyatt was thinking, looking her over like that. The thought made me shutter.
“Come here.”
She cautiously walked over, stopping directly in front of me with her hands behind her back.
“Don’t ever wear something like this again.”
“Yes, Marlon.”
“And listen when I speak to you.”
“I will.”
Her tone said one thing and her body said something else entirely. She leaned in, stopping just short of touching me.
“Don’t,” I said.
“Don’t what?” she asked softly. “I haven’t done anything yet.”
“I know what you’re thinking.”
She tilted her head, exposing her neck and bit her lip like she didn’t take me seriously at all.
“What am I thinking, Marlon?”
“I don’t wanna say it out loud.”
“Well, I’m not a mind reader.”
“Aurora,” I said steadily. “You and I can never have sex again. You understand that, right?”
“Yes.”
“So, why are you this close to me?”
“Cause you want me to be.”
I didn’t respond.
“Cause you want me.”
Still silence.
“No matter how much you try to resist it.”
She stepped just a fraction closer.
“You crave another taste.”
“I don’t.”
“Really?”
I held her gaze. “Really. See I know what you are, Rabbit. I know your type.”
“Oh?” She stepped back a little. “What type is that?”
“Reckless.”
She laughed.
“It’s not a good thing, Aurora. You think having a reputation like that makes you look good?”
She stopped laughing then. “What reputation?”
I gave her a knowing look. “You’re an intelligent woman.”
“But still not a mind reader, Marlon. So say what you want to say to me with your chest.”
“I don’t feel the need to be unnecessarily cruel. You know what I’m talking about.”
She crossed her arms and watched me, forcing me to be forward.
“Fine.” I looked her in the eye. “Sleeping around with your father’s associates only makes you look bad. Even if it’s just to piss him off. Even if it’s with me.”
She straightened immediately.
“And by associates,” she said, voice sharper now, “I assume you mean Jason, too.”
I didn’t answer.
“Oh,” she said, nodding slowly. “I get it. The rumor mill got to you too, huh? Is that why you didn’t want me to go with Wyatt? Scared I’ll fuck him on the way to the office? On horseback? In the middle of the rain too? That’s some romantic shit right there.”
“Look,” I said, more controlled now, “I’m not judging you or anything. I just—”
“Since you know so much about me and my type, Marlon,” she cut in, “tell me—did you know he was my first?”
I paused. “…ever?”
She nodded.
“And we did it the first time on my eighteenth birthday,” she continued. “Which he waited for, by the way. Had the date saved in his phone and everything. Ain’t that some sick shit? That man plotted on me my entire childhood and I thought it was so sweet back then.”
My stomach churned violently.
“Anyway,” she went on. “I was dating Orim at the time and considered it cheating, so I kept my mouth shut. Until he asked again. And again. And again.”
I didn’t say anything.
“I knew that man since I was thirteen,” she said. “He was at my sweet sixteen. I actually thought he loved me. But the minute it became ‘socially acceptable’ to openly lust after me, he couldn’t wait to tell his friends he had me first.”
Her eyes met mine.
“You think you know me?” she asked. “You think this is the biggest regret I’ve ever made?”
She shook her head.
“Please. What happened with us is a cakewalk.”
The storm outside was starting to calm down. Maybe Wyatt would be here soon. Maybe not. But all I could focus on was how fast she was drawing in breaths.
“You done?” I asked finally.
She held my gaze. “Yeah.”
I nodded once, slow.
“Okay,” I said.
She frowned slightly. “That’s it?”
“What you want me to say?”
“I don’t know,” she shot back. “Something. You got all these opinions about me, so say them.”
“I don’t have anything to say.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one I’ve got,” I said calmly.
She exhaled in frustration, turning away from me for a second. Her arms crossed, then she laughed under her breath. “Unbelievable.”
“Look. I’m sorry that happ—”
“I don’t want your pity.”
My lips fastened shut.
“See, that’s your problem,” she continued. “You think you got it all figured out. You don’t.”
I stepped closer. “Then prove me wrong.”
For the first time since she walked in, she didn’t have something quick to say.
She may think she’s this deep, unsolvable mystery, but she’s not.
She’s just scared. And lonely. Lashing out and biting at anything she sees as judgment.
She doesn’t want my sympathy. She wanted something to sink those biting teeth into. Something with meaning.
Something to do.
So, I gave it to her.
“You want to be taken seriously?” I added. “Then act like it.”
“How?” she asked finally.
I nodded toward the door, toward the vineyard beyond it.
“You said you’d turn this into a tasting space,” I said. “Open seating. Views. All that.”
She straightened slightly. “Yeah.”
“Then do it,” I said. “Plan it. Show me it makes sense for the business.”
She studied me, trying to figure out if I meant it.
“You serious?”
“I don’t waste time playing,” I said.
“…okay. Sounds good. I will get started on it tomorrow.”
I nodded once. “Okay.”