24. Dara
24
Dara
When Mark told me his plan, I wasn’t convinced it was going to work. Alex had made his stand quite plain, and in the rudest way possible. He wanted no more contact with me. He was angry with me, and that part scared me. A lot.
“He just needs to understand what happened, that’s all,” Mark said. “Now you’ve explained it to me, it makes perfect sense. Alex will see it the same way, I promise you.”
“How can you be so sure?” I replied.
“Because he’s my friend and I know how he thinks. You have to trust me on this, sis.”
I’ve always trusted Mark, but where Alex was concerned, I still had my doubts. But at the end of the day, I suppose I really had no choice. I wanted a chance to explain what had happened, and the only way I could do that was to go and see him.
“What if he won’t see me? I mean, you’ve told me his apartment building is like a fortress. What if I get there and he won’t let me in?”
Mark had taken some time to think about that, and then he came up with what I thought was a rather elaborate and ridiculous plan.
“He’ll never fall for that,” I countered. “Alex isn’t stupid.”
“He’ll never know,” Mark said. “If you want to go and see him, and be sure he speaks to you, this is the only way.” It took Mark another ten minutes to convince me until eventually, I relented.
“Fine,” I huffed.
After leaving Mark and putting Alex’s address in my GPS, I drove out of Riverdale and made my way to the city. On a few occasions, when my mind argued against my decision, I was tempted to turn around and go back. I already felt devastated enough. The idea of having to deal with the humiliation of what Alex might say or do piled on top of that was just too much to bear.
But then I reached the conclusion that I really only had two choices. I could go to the city and try and speak to Alex, explaining what had happened and hope he would understand. Or I could go back to Riverdale and forget all about him.
My heart won’t let me consider the last option. It appears Alex Bennett has wheedled his way under my skin and is far more important to me than I first imagined. So, I continued on.
After a few wrong turns and getting myself even more stressed, I eventually park on the street. It’s now past seven and there are fewer people on the sidewalk, which I suppose works to my advantage as I walk a couple of blocks. When I get to where I need to be, I call Mark.
“I’m here,” I say, looking up at the looming building that reaches into the sky.
“Good,” he says. “Stay on the line. I’m going to call him. Are you at the entrance to the building?”
“Yep,” I say, looking around me and feeling uncomfortable.
It’s nearly dusk and I don’t want anyone thinking I’m casing the joint, though how a burglar could possibly break into a skyscraper with the security I can see is beyond me.
A guy at a desk beyond these thick glass doors eyes me up, and I don’t mean in any flattering way. Once more, I doubt if this is not the most ridiculous plan my brother has ever conjured up, but I suppose it’s too late now.
Mark comes back on the line and says, “He’s going to buzz you in. Get ready.”
And like magic, I hear the deep buzz of the locked door in front of me. Pushing it open, I step precariously inside the huge, shiny-tiled entrance.
“I’m in,” I whisper into my phone.
“Good luck,” Mark says and hangs up.
“Can I help you, Miss?” the guy behind the desk asks, standing up and looking at me suspiciously.
My heart is already thumping in my chest, and this guy is just making me feel even more nervous.
“I’m going to see Alex.”
The guard frowns.
“Dr. Bennett?” I repeat.
“Oh, of course,” he says, breaking into a smile.
Using Alex’s first name actually seems to help my cause.
“Do you know where you’re going, Miss?”
I shake my head. “Not really.”
The guard comes from behind the desk and, pointing past it and down a corridor, he says, “Take that elevator, and press the button for the penthouse.
The penthouse, huh?
I shouldn’t be surprised. He is a billionaire. But I’m still a little bit taken aback.
“Thanks,” I say, walking past him as he returns to his post.
“You’re welcome, Miss.”
I don’t have to wait on the elevator, and when the doors open, I step inside the mirrored cube and press the button that says “PH.” After an initial jerk and me feeling like my stomach just fell through my feet, I watch in trepidation as it climbs floor after floor.
By the time the doors open, I’m a nervous wreck, and stepping out into the corridor, I look both ways. There’s only one door.
Of course there is. This is the penthouse.
Trying and failing miserably to quiet my thumping heart, I reach the door and lift my hand to the bell.
Here goes nothing.
I hear clipped sounds as he walks across the apartment. Then there’s a lock turning, and eventually, he opens the door.
Alex’s expression is a picture as his eyes fly wide and his jaw falls open like a goldfish. He was expecting Mark, so his utter astonishment comes as no surprise to me.
Mark figured the only way to get me up here was to pretend he was coming to see Alex. When he rang Alex, he put me on hold. When Alex buzzed me in, he put Alex on hold. And now, here I am.
“Hi,” I say, my voice quiet and timid.
This is it. This is make or break time. He’s either going to fly into a rage because I ignored his text, sending me right back to that elevator, or he’s going to let me in.
I’m surprised, if not utterly relieved, when he opens the door a bit wider.
“Come in, Dara,” he says.
I take the step into his apartment, but I’m a little confused. When he sent that text message, he was clearly angry, which is what I’ve been expecting him to be on my entire journey here. But he doesn’t sound angry at all. In fact, if I had to describe it, he looks and sounds kind of sad.
But I don’t want to waste any more time. I need to tell him the reason I’m here before he changes his mind, so hardly giving him a chance to close the door, I turn to him, and everything bursts out.
“I came to apologize. I was wrong. I know that now. You asked me not to tell anyone, and I promised I wouldn’t. It was just such a big decision. It was so hard, so I confided in my closest friend, knowing that she wouldn’t breathe a word. I know you’re mad at me, and you have every right to be. I should have told you. I’m sorry.”
Alex stands there looking at me, and to my utter astonishment, he has a half smile on his face.
I shake my head. “How is this funny?”
“I’m not laughing,” he replies. “In fact, it’s me who needs to apologize to you.”
“What?”
He throws a gesture toward the apartment. “Can we sit down and talk? You standing there makes me think you’re going to run out at any minute.”
Glancing down at myself as though to confirm his deduction, I nod. “Oh, yes. Sure.”
Alex leads me across dark, polished, wooden floors to a huge living area that’s surrounded by glass windows that look out onto the city. I can’t help myself; I walk straight over and look out.
“Wow! You can see everything from up here.”
“Yes,” he says from somewhere behind me. “Sometimes you can see everything and still be blind.”
I cast a glance over my shoulder and see him gazing at me.
“Would you like a drink?”
“Yes please,” I reply.
While he disappears into what I assume is the kitchen, I gaze around his apartment. It’s huge and stunning with modern art hanging on the walls, and strangely shaped sculptures placed in particular places. It’s clean and minimalistic, just like the house back in Riverdale.
Well, before I got my hands on it.
And yet, this place reflects Alex perfectly. It’s all clean lines and contained décor. Nothing out of place. Nothing random. Everything exactly where it should be. I’ve come to realize how much Alex needs control. I’ve also concluded that what Cindy did has a lot to do with that.
He returns from the kitchen, holding a glass of wine in each hand. We both move to the sofas and sit across from each other.
“I thought I was seeing Mark tonight,” Alex says, raising a knowing eyebrow at me.
I shrug. “I didn’t know if you would see me, so he devised a plan.”
“I’ll always want to see you, Dara.”
“That’s not what your text said,” I counter.
“I was wrong.” He sighs. “On so many things. I was wrong to ask you to help me. I was definitely wrong to expect you to make such a huge decision on your own. And, I have realized, I was completely wrong to keep what we were doing secret from Mark.”
“You’re being a little hard on yourself,” I say gently.
“No, Dara. That message I sent to you was dreadful. After everything you did. After everything you sacrificed. If anything, I need to be even harder on myself.”
I shake my head in complete disagreement.
“I just struggle to trust people,” he continues. “But I have found, over these last few weeks, that I have come to trust you completely. I don’t know what spell you’ve managed to put me under to accomplish that,” he half smiles, “but it’s worked.”
“You’re not the only one who has been betrayed in life, Alex. We all have a story. I’ll admit, yours is a little more intense than most, but we have to find a way back to learning to trust people again.”
He looks at me intently then. “And what’s your story, Dara? Who betrayed you?”
“Dino Cabrini,” I say plainly.
Alex’s eyes fly wide.
“Yep,” I nod. “Not the great guy everyone thinks he is.”
“What happened?”
I sigh, now ready to tell him the truth. “The whole time I was training under him, I was learning new and wonderful things. I’ll give him credit, he’s a very talented chef, and, for the most part, a great teacher. As I progressed, I began putting together some ideas, and then I came up with something amazing that, once I got my own place, I wanted to showcase as my signature dish. But Dino found my notebook, stole my recipe, and palmed it off to the whole world as his own creation.”
“What?” Alex blurted, flying forward in his chair.
I nod and shrug.
“That’s why you left,” he gasps. “Good lord, Dara. I can’t believe it.”
“Neither did anybody else, and he was counting on that. How could an up-and-coming chef possibly have come up with something so inventive? He knew what he was doing.”
“Did you fight it?”
“I had no proof. My notebook mysteriously went missing the day of the launch. How convenient is that?”