24
ST. ANNABEL
“How is she?” My mother asks on the other end of the line, the exhaustion clear from her voice, worry peeking through. I guess she hasn’t utterly lost her fucking mind after all.
Stassie has her legs crossed on the couch as she pesters Arden with unnecessary chatter about tennis, discussing the game she’d last watched and whether or not they can play together. He hadn’t been bothered by the whole thing. He nods when required and gives a response when it seems fit.
The two of them have always liked one another, he has held a soft spot for her ever since she came into both our lives. That is the thing when you lose a friendship, everyone around you feels the loss too.
I am glad to have had the help of my friends after last night, the panic attack took me by surprise. Likely an amalgamation of the events of last night building up and the surprise was the final nail in the coffin.
Thinking about last night has me remembering the moment that I shared with Arden in the room. My eyes find his , like the gravitational pull of the earth to its core. My father always said that the eyes were a window to a person’s soul, and for me my eyes reflect Arden. He is my soul.
And every inch of me wants to be near him, like a calling. Yet, my eyes briefly strays to the other girl sitting by his feet. Knowing I’d already betrayed her trust and years of friendship.
MJ is wearing one of the spare pajamas she keeps for whenever she comes over, her hands are wrapped around Arden’s leg with her head resting on it as she speaks to Dan. I can’t even find it in me to be jealous.
Perhaps it’s because I know I already have him and I know how it makes me sound, the type of person it makes me. But frankly I don’t care anymore. I am done fighting the attraction, maybe if I am with him I can be happy again.
Yes, that is it. I’ll be happy again.
“Annabel, answer me!” Her voice startling me, I’d forgotten she is still there, awaiting an answer. It isn’t even noon and I can feel the energy depleting from my body already from the sound of her voice.
“She is doing just fine, not that you’d know,” I mumble the last bit, but she hears me regardless.
“Watch yourself,” she says sharply, and I force myself not to react. My nails dig into my skin to stop me from hurling out the words I really want to say.
“Joe will come get her,” mother says, sighing.
“He’ll fire the boy who was meant to be keeping her safe.
I told him when he hired that son of his, that he’d be nothing but trouble.
” If Stassie finds out she’d been the cause of someone losing their job she’ll be upset for days.
Tyler especially who is practically her closest friend.
“Let her spend the weekend with me,” I say abruptly, cutting into her rant about how they paid Joe way too much money to not be able to look after her daughter. Even though that is the responsibility of a parent, which I’m not sure she knew much of these days.
“Absolutely not, her extra string lessons are compulsory. Franklin said she’s been a little shaky recently, she has to go.” Her tone suggests this isn’t up for discussion but unfortunately for her I’m not having it.
“She can rest for a couple days,” I snap at her. “ I’d take you more seriously if you hadn’t just lost her, would you even have known she was missing if I hadn’t called?”
Everyone looks my way at the raise in my voice, the smile on Stassie’s face drops and she is looking at me with worry. I turn around to avoid their faces.
The silence that rings through from her side reveals all the cards she tried to hide, she has checked out from motherhood and it is clear from everything my sister has told me.
From the day Stassie came into our lives, everyone doted on her but none more than our mother, who has been more full-on with her life than mine.
Ever since we found out what a genius Stassie is with instruments, mother has been what you’d call a “stage mum”.
She spends every minute of every waking day making sure Stassie stays up to standards.
This is why she started homeschooling at thirteen.
School interferes too much with her practices and performances.
The exact opposite yet similar relationship I have with my father.
Stassie can pursue the arts, while I am chained to a lifelong contract that binded me to Astaeris.
I hold no resentments towards her, that alone is reserved for my parents. If Stassie is happy, then I am too.
A part of me wishes I fought my parents harder on pushing her into the limelight at such an early age but there is nothing Anastastia loves more than music. Still, this has been the main reason I’d been worried last night, for her to go out of her way to leave home by herself was dangerous.
Despite the fame that comes with the Bass name, in Anastasia’s case it also comes with rabid fans who have no boundaries for a girl who isn’t even eighteen.
She’s too friendly, the word fear is foreign to her.
Not much scares her. If someone had gotten the slightest bit too comfortable it could’ve ended terribly.
“It’s one weekend. You can haul her off first thing Monday morning.” I force my voice into a plea, hoping she’ll change her tune if I sound more sorry.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Charlotte comes on a Monday.” Her governess that handles her homeschooling.
“Please,” I grind out, my voice sounding like chalk on a whiteboard.
Then she finally gives me a resounding, “Fine”, which leads to a slow smile spreading across my face.
Although the acceptance comes with stipulations of course as most things did.
“She’ll be picked up first thing Monday morning as early as six.
Make sure she wakes, you know how she gets. ”
“Oh and call your father. He wants to speak to you,” is the final thing she says before she hangs up. I'd rather not. I’m not ready yet. This is the first time in the last couple years, I haven't gone to the office once a week. I meant it when I said I didn’t want to speak to him.
A hand touches me gently, I see Stassie standing next to me, a tad bit of worry she doesn’t often show still on her face. But it fades quickly once she sees the smile on my face, “You can stay.”
“Really?” she yelps then we both start bouncing on the spot.
“Oh thank you, thank you.” She embraces me into a much needed hug and she whispers, “I’m sorry for scaring you last night, I didn’t mean to.”
I can tell it’s been eating her up, of everyone I know she was the softest and kindest at heart.
It is why we considered her the delicate fawn of our family.
She rarely got time to herself outside of music, that lack of freedom makes her act first, think later and honestly it has been a long time coming.
As small as it is in hindsight, it’s good she tries to rebel against our parents. We both needed to.
“It’s okay,” I whisper back. “Also, I think you should call Ty, he’d want to hear from you.”
Her eyes flicker, downcast, and I can tell she’s hiding something but I don’t push.
She’ll come to me when she’s ready. I announce to the room we are going to Lancaster’s for brunch.
Everyone disperses immediately and goes to get dressed.
We are taking advantage of the rare sun the first day of November has chosen to grace us with.
???
“That's a first,” Arden says, when he strolls into my sitting room.
“What is?”
“You being on time,” he replies, as he stops in front of me, and I give him the middle finger.
“I had plans for the day so my outfit was already picked out, thank you very much,” I say, referring to the black cardigan on top of my short white dress and black Chanel boots.
“Okay.”
“That’s it?”
“Did you want me to say something specific?” he questions, still standing in front of me at his full height, his presence looming over me.
“I don't know,” I start, pretending to think about it. “Perhaps something along the lines of: Annabel you are beautiful, the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen, you look spectacular,” I say, my voice dripping in sarcasm as I shrug, trying to appear nonchalant.
Leaning my head back in order to see his face, his familiar smirk plastered there and a twinkle in his eyes that suggests he had been teasing me. And there I am falling for it once again.
He starts leaning closer, steady and unwavering, uncrossing my legs in one fell swoop as he makes his way into the space they left open.
“Annabel you are beautiful, the prettiest woman I’ve ever encountered,” repeating my words back to me in a manner in which has me hot all over.
He is so close now, less than a breath apart from each other.
There is something sexy in the fact that he is doing this with the others less than two feet away.
Anyone could come out and catch us at any moment, maybe that is part of the appeal.
His eyes shift from my eyes to my lips then back down to my eyes, then his tongue swipes the bottom of my lip, and I have to restrain a moan from filling the room.
Frankly the control he has over me should be embarrassing, I move in the same direction he does. Entranced by his every move. Finally he says the last bit in a seductive whisper, “You are spectacular.”
His lips are on mine as soon as the words are uttered, not wasting a second longer.
I savour every swipe of his tongue and nip of my lip.
I realise he loves doing that. Biting. Like a dog trying to claim what is his.
I lock my legs around his to draw him closer as each movement has a moan pulled out of me.
He gives me a quiet shh signaling me to keep my voice down, voices are nearing but he isn’t stopping. I don’t want him to.
If we aren’t careful we are going to end up undressed quicker than we had put the clothes on.
Once the voices near, he slowly pulls apart from me and I want to draw him back. I whimper. Like actually whimper . Not wanting to stop but circumstances not permitting us to carry on.