Chapter 19—Willow
This is a nightmare. All of it.
I place my hands on the window; the cold is peaceful to the touch.
Leaning forward, I set my forehead on the glass as well and close my eyes, taking a moment—just a small one.
Might seem like I had more than enough after passing out from a panic attack and sleeping for hours, but it felt like only a minute long.
How did the day go so wrong? An easy morning with a blessing announcement that the man who made me fearful for my child attending school was gone, only to end up in a fear-induced panic that had me making out with my boss in front of people for who knows how long.
Then I passed out and ended up here. His place—open and beautiful—leaves very little room to hide.
“Come on.” He taps my elbow before pulling me back from the window.
“Marco wasn’t able to secure much for us before the storm hit, but he got us some food.
Why don’t you go get into something a bit more comfortable, and I’ll get us some lunch.
It’s after twelve, and I’m sure you’re hungry. I know I am.”
Not sure if he adds that last part because he knows I’m the type to forgo a meal, but I won’t let someone eat alone.
I doubt he knows that much about me already.
Even though he seems to always have food around and has wanted me to eat with him on more than one occasion.
Maybe he just doesn’t like eating alone. I don’t.
I let him lead me back to the bedroom I woke up in.
The only one in this place, I note, as I stand at the French door opening and let him move past me to the dresser drawers.
He pulls out a few clothes, tossing them onto the bed before going to the only other door in this room and opening it, turning on the light to reveal the bathroom.
The storm outside keeps most of the place dim, as the lighting isn’t daylight but soft off-white.
Typical for a place to relax after a long day without bright lights to keep you up. A crash pad, nothing more.
“Feel free to take a shower. Towels are under the sink, along with other items you might need. I only have the basics here, and I apologize for not having anything more feminine to lend you.”
Like I would want anything that belonged to another woman.
Again, I’m so unsure of myself, I half wonder if he said it to see if I would react to the idea of another woman being here.
I won’t say it louder than the whisper in my head, but I find it comforting that it’s just his things here.
That this isn’t some mistress hideaway or whatever people rumored to be in the Mafia are into.
What I found on the internet the other night has been playing in my head.
A constant reminder, but not something I’ll shy away from.
I’m not promoting it, but in my life, a name doesn’t define a man.
Take my former boss. He used his title to steal.
So far, the only thing Bobby’s done is give the girls and me a place to stay and peace of mind.
Who cares how it happens, as long as the innocent aren’t harmed.
If that makes me a bad person, then send me to hell.
But if someone protects my child from a predator, I’m willing to overlook the word Mafia being tied to his name.
He walks by me, turning only to close the door. But before he does, he speaks once more. “It’s going to be okay. Think of this as just a small getaway and nothing more.”
Then he shuts the door, and I let out a deep breath before grabbing the clothes and going to the bathroom. A shower is exactly what I need to fully wake up and get rid of the fog still clinging to my brain ever since I realized he wanted me to fly with him.
I was so in shock that my feet had carried me along while my brain screamed in protest. And then I froze, unable to do anything at all. I might have said something, but I don’t know what. I was locked down, incapable of moving until his lips touched mine.
And then that was all I could focus on. All I needed to stay alive. Him wrapped around me and giving me his life force, charging in a connection of souls, sharing breath.
Yeah, a shower is definitely needed. A cold one. Not only to wake up my mind, because I’m sure he’s going to want to talk about what happened. And I owe him an explanation for… well… my actions. All of them.
I also need a cold shower to cool down, because just the thought of his lips touching mine again sends parts of me fluttering with need and want. And I need to hold myself back from doing it again.
I don’t waste energy being embarrassed about what I look like when I finally emerge into the living space. Sweatpants and a soft white tee might not be appropriate attire for the office, but for a getaway, it seems perfect. And that’s what I cling to.
“Oh, your mom just came out.”
My gaze finds Bobby in the kitchen with his head tilted to hold his phone by his ear while he cuts up some fruit.
“One sec, sweetie.”
For half a heartbeat, I think he’s speaking to me, but he doesn’t look at me as he wipes his hands on a towel and comes over, covering the end of the phone with his hand.
“I called Tommy. He’s going to stay in the building in his apartment while Payton watches the girls in yours.
The roads were getting bad, and the school called for an early pickup.
I told Ivy and Lily about us being stuck at work.
If you can, finish cutting the rest of the fruit while I take a quick shower, will you? ”
He hands me the phone and walks away. I nod absently as I hear the bedroom door click shut.
“Mommy?”
Ivy’s voice pulls me away from staring at the closed door and listening to the shower turn on.
“Yes, sweetie, I’m here.” I turn, shaking my head, and go into the kitchen. There’s a selection of fruit out but not much cut up yet. I position myself in the same manner I saw Bobby and speak to my girl as I take up his task.
“Are you really stuck because of the rain?”
“Yes, baby. The tunnels are flooded, and we won’t be able to make it back in time. Are you and Lily going to be all right with Payton watching you?”
“Oh yes. Mr. Tommy said if we behave for her, he’ll make his extra special dessert. He won’t tell us what it is, but Payton hinted that it’ll be ice cream.”
“Just remember to brush your teeth before bed, honey. Did you have a good day at school?”
“Yup. We had our spelling test, and I got all of them right.”
“Great job, honey. Can I talk to Lily?”
“Okay. Love you, Mommy.”
“Love you, too, my sweet girl.”
I wait as the phone is passed.
“Mommy!” No matter if I’m home or not, my littlest one greets me with the same enthusiasm. As well as volume.
“Easy, baby. Remember, we don’t have to yell when we’re on the phone.”
“Sorry, Mommy.”
I can’t help but smile. “That’s okay. How was school?”
“Good. I got to eat lunch on the stage because it was Sara’s birthday and she got to pick a friend to eat with her.”
“That’s great, sweetheart. Will you promise to be good for Mr. Tommy and Payton for me?”
“Of course, Mommy. I love you.”
“I love you too. Let me speak to Payton, sweetheart.”
“Okay, bye.”
“Hey, Willow,” Payton says almost immediately, as if she was standing right by Lily.
“Hey. I’m so sorry about all this. Thank you so much for watching the girls for me.”
“Oh, don’t worry about it. After seeing you over the weekend, I was already telling Tommy that I wanted to spend more time with you and the girls. When Bobby called asking for a favor, I almost stole the phone from Tommy to say yes.”
I smile at that. True or not, it’s what I need to hear. “Well, thanks again. And please tell Tommy I said thank you as well.”
“Don’t worry about it. Consider this a happy accident. A night off from mom duty. When was the last time you could say that?” She laughs before saying her goodbyes and ending the call.
But I’m still stuck on her words as I continue to chop the rest of the fruit.
A night off? That’s literally never happened before.
Even now, I might be without the girls, but is it really a complete night off?
There was no setup for me to prep for this, no three-week plan for a night away.
Just a panic attack that set all this into motion.
But the more I think on it, I wonder if this is actually the blessing in disguise Payton was referring to.
If I had time to plan a night away, would it be better or worse?
This is the first time I’ve been away from the girls.
I’m forced to stay here. But if given the option, would I have bailed because a night without the girls felt wrong on some level?
But… freeing on another?
Does it make me a bad mother?
I dismiss the thought as soon as it pops into my head. My girls are happy. They want for nothing, and it’s not as if I abandoned them. They’re with friends. I might not know Tommy, but I trust Bobby. He would never leave my girls with someone who wouldn’t treat them like their own.
I hear the shower turn off, and I put the fruit in a bowl I find and keep it out on the peninsula counter while I clean up the mess.
The kitchen is compact but still beautiful.
Cabinets and appliances line the back wall before curving outward in a U-shape with a window over the sink at the center.
Big enough for a man of Bobby’s stature with hints of being cozy for two.
“The girls okay?”
I nod, wiping down the last of the surfaces before looking up and answering.
“They’re fi—” My voice dies as I drink him in.
I scan him before I can stop myself. Water is still dripping from his hair, dropping onto his white shirt, which has become translucent.
His sweatpants match mine, but while mine are loose, his fit snugly.
Maybe even tight, as I can see the outline of him.
Every part. And the pièce de résistance is that he’s barefoot.
Like me.
“You aren’t wearing your glasses.”
“I only need them to read.”
“Then why—” I stop myself with a shake of my head and a small smile on my face. “You’re always reading.”
He grins. “Yeah. Hazards of the job. When I was a kid, it was because I liked to read books and study, and I ended up doing both of them most days. When Dad died and the family business fell to us, the weekends of playing with my brothers and being without them seemed to be few and far between. Now, it seems five minutes don’t go by before I have to read an email or a contract. ”
Seeing him like this—with his hair not styled perfectly, his face free of frames, and without the suit—isn’t off-putting. Quite the opposite, actually. I feel that if I move an inch, I’ll end up jumping on him and having my way with him.
“Hungry?” He walks by me and heads to the fridge. He pulls out some platters with sandwiches and other things before setting them on the countertop next to the fruit.
“Are you not planning on working anymore?” I can’t seem to get over him not having to wear glasses. I just thought it was a part of him. Like some might have a dimple in their chin or a widow’s peak.
“Maybe in a little while. Figured we could both use a break.” He sits and starts filling two plates. I sit next to him and try not to stare. But it’s hard.
He notices—of course he does—and winks.
I blush at being caught and look away as I pick up my turkey sandwich.
“What’s with those?” I point to the last item he pulled out from the fridge that seems more like a dessert than lunch.
Now it’s his turn to blush. “I told the girls you weren’t feeling well when I spoke to them the first time, when the school contacted Mary to pick them up early due to the weather. They said that those were your favorites.”
A small laugh leaves my lips as I look at the chocolate-covered strawberries.
“We made them on Valentine’s Day. Just a little extra something.
Lily was convinced that Valentine’s chocolate was better than the other types out there, and we all had to list our favorites.
I said it was these.” I point to the dessert.
“Homemade always tastes better, in my opinion.”
Bobby coughs and shakes his head as he drinks from the water he brought for both of us. “Sorry to say, this is just something Marco picked up, so they might not taste as good.”
“Well, at least they won’t be as messy, that’s for sure.”
We both laugh for a moment before continuing to eat.
“My mother used to make them for me,” I say after some time. I set down the rest of my food and push the plate back.
“Want to talk about it?”
I shake my head. “No.” I rub my hands on my legs and look at him. His face is full of concern for me, and it melts my heart. “Not yet.”
He nods, and when his phone rings, he goes and answers it. Followed by putting on his glasses and opening his laptop on the coffee table.
I take my cue from him, putting the rest of the food away, waiting on the strawberries for later, and picking up the kitchen.
I find my workbag near the front door and pull out my laptop. Going to the spot I occupied on the couch earlier, I power up my station and get to work. I might not get everything done that I was planning on today, but I can at least do something.
And that’s how we spend the next few hours: working beside each other, in our own little worlds.
Until the power goes out and we’re forced to brave the darkness together.