10. Evren #2
I laugh because that’s the opposite of what I’ve been told. I’m not sure why she sees me so differently than others, but I like it. Catching the hand she’s using to pat me with, I slowly, deliberately, kiss her knuckles. She gasps and her gaze flies to mine.
I kiss her knuckles one last time, unable to help myself, before I let her go.
It takes more effort than I thought possible to cut the contact between us.
Wiping my hand on my slacks, I need to get the feel of her skin off mine, or else I’m going to pick her hand back up and hold it the entire four-hour flight.
But no matter how many times I try, I fear her touch has been tattooed through my flesh and straight down to the bone.
Altan’s table is a work of art. It took him one week to complete, but it just arrived today.
The base of the table is crafted from a rich, dark walnut wood.
Running through the center of the table is a vibrant river of epoxy resin, swirling with hues of deep emerald, sapphire blue, and flashes of gold.
Embedded within the resin are delicate, gold-leaf branches and tiny, hand-painted flowers that seem to float beneath the surface, giving the illusion of an underwater world.
The table's legs are made from twisted iron and designed to resemble gnarled tree roots. Nina had a clear vision once she saw Altan’s work and sketched out her idea.
When Altan informed me that the table was being delivered today, I organized a private chef to make some of my favorite Turkish food to celebrate finally having a table.
I messaged Nina, asking if she’s free tonight, but she hasn’t responded yet.
Instead, Zeki messages me with a warning.
Zeki: If you don’t call anne right now, she’s going to get on a plane and come to Skyrise .
That’s a surprise. Normally it’s the other way around with me warning him to call her.
But instead of enjoying this rare moment, dread courses through me.
It looks like my time is up. Since returning from the trip to Altan’s, my mom has called multiple times a day.
So far, I’ve been holding her off with text messages saying I’m busy this week at work.
It’s not a complete lie, but I don’t want to talk to her about Nina.
With a sigh, I call my mom on my drive home. To the surprise of no one, she answers on the first ring.
“ Annem ,” I say.
“Don’t you annem me, young man. Your avoidance after bringing a woman to meet Altan is telling . Now tell me, why did he get to meet her and not me?”
“I haven’t been avoiding you,” I lie, ignoring her question.
She laughs. “I wasn’t born yesterday, and I demand to know more about this Nina. Altan says she has an eye for design…”
“There’s nothing to know. She’s just a friend.”
“Well then,” she says. “I need to meet your new friend.”
“You really don’t.”
She laughs. “Oh, now I definitely do. How about next Tuesday?”
“I’m busy.”
“Okay, what about next Friday instead?”
“How about you come in a few months?”
“Evren…” My mom has that warning tone that only moms can give. The one that says her patience is running low and that her threat to jump on a plane right now wasn’t fake.
“ Annem ,” I say, “Nina really is just a friend, and I am swamped at work. Please don’t push me on this. I’m already dealing with so much…”
“Fine, I’ll try to be patient. But before you go, I have to tell you something.”
“Okay?”
“I heard Mert is heading to America. Apparently, he’s trying to work for a sports team or buy into one. My friend Burcu wasn’t clear on which one.”
Pins and needles prickle down my arms, my limbs going numb as shock clamps down on me.
Mert is moving to America? Him getting into sports feels personal and now I’m seriously worried he’s behind the attack on my house.
He might even be pulling Stonehaven’s strings, blocking my business ventures.
No other sponsors will take my call, and it’s starting to grate.
“Which sport?” I choke out.
“I’m not sure. It’s just a rumor, but I thought you’d want to know. I remember how close you two were…”
“Thank you for telling me.” After we say our goodbyes and hang up, I message Zeki with the information, asking him to work with Nate to get more details.
Trying to shake off my shock and dread, I enter the house to find pop music blaring from upstairs. I follow it to the guest room, searching for Nina to ask about dinner. I knock,but the music drowns out the sound.
The room is a riot of color.Wallpaper scraps litter the floor like confetti,and a ladder stands precariously close to a table covered in paste.And there she is,perched atop the ladder,a paintbrush in hand,her entire world seemingly encapsulated in the rhythm of one of Stella’s songs.
I clear my throat.
Nothing.
I try again,louder this time.Still,she’s oblivious.
With a growing sense of amusement,I creep closer.
Just as I’m about to resort to calling her name,she reaches for another strip of wallpaper and jumps when she spots me.
A shriek rips from her throat as she loses her balance and tumbles backward.
I lunge forward,catching her easily. She stares at me with wide, unblinking eyes, as if trying to reason out what just happened.
Slowly,deliberately,she pushes against my chest,creating a ripple of sensation through me. “You can put me down now.”
I gently do as she asks, making sure she’s steady before forcing myself to pull away.
“What are you doing home?” she asks. “It’s early.”
“Just needed a break. I sent you a text earlier…”
“About what?”
“Making sure you’re free for dinner.”
“Oh, oops, I haven’t checked my phone all day.” She shrugs like being without a phone all day isn’t a big deal and that it’s normal for her. I don’t know what that’s like. My phone is constantly glued to my hand for work. “When’s dinner?”
“We can make it whenever we want. I came home early to check in on you since you didn’t write back.”
“Give me an hour? Then I can come down.”
“Sure. See you then.” I leave her to her work, inexplicably nervous about seeing her.