Chapter 15 - Zelda #3
This was met with a moment of collective eyebrow lifting though it took me the duration of a full minute to realize the response wasn't because these people doubted a word he'd said about me.
Everyone at this table knew Ash rarely invited anyone inside the house, never mind letting them put it in order. Those eyebrows were all for Ash.
Life was a real trip. One day you were busy hearing you didn't have what it took to make it in academia while simultaneously writing—ahem, make that proofreading—someone else's graduate thesis for them, and the next you were the brains of the operation and no one doubted it for a second. Life was a real fucking trip.
"We should grab lunch sometime this week," Rob suggested. "My office building is a few blocks away from where you guys are on State Street and your schedule"—he paused to smile at Magnolia—"is pretty flexible up until Thursday, right?"
"Depends how my final fitting goes," she said ominously. "I might not be allowed to eat the rest of the week."
"Stop it. You're eating. Yes, you are," he replied.
"Maybe not after Tuesday," she argued with a hearty laugh. "The seamstress will break my ribs if that's what it takes to get the corset laced up. Honestly, though, I will turn into a ball of fire if it's too small again. Actual burning fire."
"I told you to try the green juice cleanse Heather from the yarn store recommended," Diana said. "She looks fantastic."
Magnolia leveled a glare at her mother. "Not another peep about that, you hear me? I'd rather wear three layers of Spanx than get married smelling like cabbage and garlic."
Rob set his elbows on the table and rubbed his forehead. "I still don't understand why you bought a dress two sizes too small."
"It was a designer trunk sale," Magnolia replied. "It's a limited edition dress and I was able to get it for one-tenth of the price. There was no other option."
"I still don't get it," Rob grumbled. "I would've paid the other ninety percent and saved us the misery."
Diana shifted her attention back to me. "You should come with us to the fitting, Zelda."
"Did you ignore the part where I mentioned Zelda is essential to the continued functioning of my business?" Ash asked.
"Yeah, drag the nice girl along because it sounds like such a good time," Linden muttered. "Hangry Maggie, broken ribs, great balls of fire. You're really trying to put Zelda through the paces, aren't you?"
Diana patted my hand. "I didn't raise them to be such rude boys. Ignore them. I do."
"It's okay," I said, laughing. "They don't scare me."
"I like you," she said with a wink.
"You should totally come with us," Magnolia said. "You'd be doing me a huge favor by subjecting yourself to my mother's ceaseless meddling while I'm brutalized by a very small but very strong seamstress."
"Meddling? I don't meddle at all," Diana said. She spoke in a tone that suggested she truly believed it too.
Carlo pushed away from the table and collected two empty serving dishes from the center of the table. With a glance to Rob, he said, "Best of luck."
"We're not about to debate whether you meddle," Linden said. "It's accepted as fact. Let's move on."
After muttering something about her children needing her meddling in their lives, Diana returned her attention to me.
"The shop we're visiting has lots of lovely pieces.
I'm sure they'd have something perfect for you to wear next weekend if you'd like to browse for yourself. I'd be happy to help you look."
"Oh, that's not necessary," I said, suddenly flustered. I didn't know why I reacted this way but I could feel heat crawling up my chest and neck like an allergic reaction. "I'm all set."
"Mom," Ash warned.
"What did I say?" Diana held up both hands. "What did I do now? I'm being helpful."
"More than enough," Ash replied.
"There aren't many people in the world today who have a range of options for a formal seaside summer wedding with only a few days' notice," she said.
"And since I want my oldest son's companion to feel as radiant as ever, I'm going to keep doing more than enough.
" She gripped my hand. "All right, dear?
Very good. I'll drop by the office on Tuesday afternoon around four and we'll walk to the shop together. "
When Diana and Magnolia fell into a discussion of the wedding reception's seating chart, Ash leaned in, brushing his lips over my exposed shoulder.
"I'll handle the dress shop issue and the nineteen baby blankets she's going to knit in the next two days," he whispered.
"And I won't drag you onto my lap or pull your hair and kiss you while my entire family watches which is why I need you to get your sweet ass up and assist me in making a swift exit. Can we do that?"
I blinked at him for a sweltering second before reaching for Diana's hand, saying, "Thank you so much for welcoming me into your home.
The meal was exquisite and you've done a spectacular job on these cushions.
I'm so sorry we have to step out before the evening is over but I know we'll have plenty of time to catch up on Tuesday afternoon. "
"No apologies allowed," Diana said. "Have a safe drive back to the city."
Beside me, Ash stood and held out his hand for me.
When I joined him, Diana tackled me in a fierce hug.
I gave her a polite pat on the back but she didn't let go and soon I realized this wasn't an ordinary hug.
It was the kind that transfused affection from every point of contact and the longer it lasted, the more I felt my parched and fractured places filling with kindness and love.
My own stores of affection seemed fuller now, as if I could now give more because I'd received this.
"Please give her back," Ash said. "She's mine."
"I know, honey, I know," Diana said, bussing her palm up and down my back.
I blinked hard because I could've cried if I hadn't fought it off.
I was plump and overflowing with emotions that seemed too large for me to bear, too permanent for me to accept outright. "I'm just so happy, I can't help it."
"Probably because she's not Millie," Linden muttered from the table.
"None of you can be trusted," Magnolia said with a groan. "None of you."
Once Diana released me, we made a quick exit. Ash held the car door open with a glance at his watch, saying, "Four minutes. You're amazing."
Since I was still the girl who ran straight to the edge with her parachute in shreds, even after a million right choices and all the deepest hugs, I dropped into the seat and said, "I thought I was overwhelming."
He crouched down to meet my eyes. "And I've found I love being overwhelmed."
We played another round of the touching game as we returned to the city but there was nothing mild or innocent about this iteration.
It was all deep, lingering thigh squeezes, rough fingertip scrapes, clasped-hand knuckle kisses with a side of teeth.
Everything about it was aggressive—and intentional.
The elevator ride from the basement garage to Ash's apartment was quiet and close, our arms tangled around each other as if we would drown otherwise. It seemed absurd to think that but when I caught sight of us in a mirrored panel, I knew it was true.
Instead of climbing inside my mind to examine why we always resorted to lifeboat-style embraces or analyze any of the other emotional stones I'd overturned today, I rested my head on his chest and granted myself permission to experience this.
This man wanted me and cared for me and drove me a bit crazy, and none of that was impacted by my past decisions.
I didn't have to live inside those decisions anymore.
I wasn't required to be that person anymore.
I could make one right decision after another and build a brand-new me.
We were completely civilized when we exited the elevator, strolled down the hall, stepped inside the apartment. I slipped out of my shoes and set down my purse. Ash hung up his keys and secured his phone in its charging station. Completely civilized.
Then his hand was on the back of my neck and my body was flat against his and I could taste the way he wanted me. It was a smoky heat, almost bitter, like he'd burned for me all this time and could only now show me the charred truth.
I liked that. Probably too much. And I liked the way he'd reached for me like I was his to take as aggressively, as imperiously, as unapologetically as he wanted.
There was a violence to it, one I felt in a desperate, sacrificial sense.
I wanted to be taken. Stolen away from the polite domesticity of phone charging and shoe removal, and stripped down to our most basic, elemental pieces—the ones that seemed to fit together without us knowing how or why.
"We can't do this tomorrow," I whispered to his lips.
"What's tomorrow and why the hell not?" he asked, gathering my shirt in his fist as he took my mouth again.
He was going to rip it if he wasn't careful.
I hoped to hell he wasn't careful.
"Tomorrow," I managed between kisses. "Monday. We can't do this at work. Not at your office."
He pulled back from my mouth, his eyes pleated at the corners. "Not at the office."
"It's just—we can't."
That neck grab cemented a few things for me and now I knew there was no way I could do this and work even a tiny bit because I'd want it all day.
The almost-torn shirt and the arrogant hand on my neck.
No work would be completed in that office, not a minute of it.
"We shouldn't. There have to be limits. Ground rules.
I won't get rug burns from kneeling under your desk and—"