Chapter 36 #2
It didn’t take me long; honestly, I didn’t have much else I wanted to put down.
My concern was more about their expectations.
The other part was how they’d react to my nonnegotiable monogamy request. I mean, it was only for a couple of weeks, right?
I rationalized it and then sent it before I lost my nerve.
I sighed, closing my laptop. Maybe Christopher’s library held the key to my distraction. Hopping up, I picked a section and started looking for a book. I was still browsing the titles when he came in.
“Aha, somehow, I knew I’d find you in here,” he said, studying me.
“Is…something the matter?”
“Not at all. Are you finding anything good?”
“No, quite the opposite. There are so many good books in here I don’t know where to start.” I casually ran my fingers across the leather bindings on the books in front of me.
“Very true. I’d suggest you pick one, but something tells me that’s not your style,” he teased with a grin.
“Yes, I find myself very much struggling and homing in on your trilogies.” He chuckled a little, and since I was feeling a bit bold, I said, “Can I ask you a question?”
“Yes, please.”
“If you one day stumbled upon a magical library where you could enter any book and become any character from the story and live their life from beginning to end, which would you choose and why?”
“Hmm, that’s an interesting question. What are the parameters?” He braced both hands behind him on the desk, his fingers flexing against the wood. The movement stilled as he grew quiet, something thoughtful tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Well, for starters, once you go into the book, time becomes different in that you can easily step out of the book, and virtually little time in the real world has passed. You only live that life for the time you’re reading the novel.”
“Isn’t that what we already do as readers, for the most part?” His eyes brightened and twinkled.
“I suppose it is, but I mean, like literally, you open the book, and you’re Dante descending through the nine circles of Hell, Virgil at your side, confronting your sins,” I mused.
“Hmm, I think the parameters should be that once you step inside the book, you have to see the journey through. No stepping back out once you begin to feel the heat or the pressure gets to be too much. Otherwise, we’d run the minute our pride slaps us in the face and never return. Thereby missing the lesson.”
“Excellent point. Then I think we should change the parameters so the books in this magical library don’t have titles on the outside, nor any words on the pages.” I grinned.
“You might be onto something there. It would almost be like the universe dictating your journey. Let’s take it even a step further. All the books look exactly the same.”
“Really? Why?” I asked, drawing my knees up to my chest and resting my head on them. I pulled my hair to the side as he continued talking.
“Well, naturally, as book lovers, we’d know exactly which stories were the most read by the binding, coloring of the pages, as well as other telltale signs. We might gravitate to them sheerly because we know them to be the classics, and we might miss out on some wild adventures and vice versa.”
“True. I mean, I’d probably avoid Dante’s Inferno.” I twisted my hair around my finger.
“You seem a little fixated on that particular work of art. Want to talk about it?” he asked, catching me off guard.
“That’d be a Marcel question,” I said and then laughed at his facial expressions as he processed what I said.
“Well, you could still answer it, you know, and then the next time you chat with Marcel, you can astound him with your astute awareness. We can easily break down the nine circles,” he joked.
“I think I could equate that idea to being forced to listen to a dripping faucet in a pitch-black room for all of eternity. Or maybe being locked in a room where the walls move an inch closer every hour.”
Heat spread across my cheeks as his booming laughter filled the room. “You’ve quite the imagination.”
“Hmm, well, how about I leave you with this? I’d say before I met Aleksandr, I was in limbo, living a somewhat peaceful existence. I moved into lust and happened to have set up camp where I am wandering dangerously into the third circle, gluttony.”
“Well, then I suggest you see it through because, if I’m not mistaken, Dante learns to confront his sins, and through compassion and bonding with Virgil, he was able to escape Hell.”
“Umm, yes, he gets to climb toward Heaven, where condemnation is left behind. Unfortunately, I fear I’ll forever be in the inferno.”
“One can only be in an inferno if they choose to be.”
“Some deserve the inferno,” I whispered.
“I suppose some do, child, but I’d say you’re probably not one of them.” His voice was quiet. After a few minutes, he said, “Can I give you a piece of advice?”
“Sure.” I turned to him, meeting his intense gaze.
“The ability to make choices is the most powerful tool we have in our arsenal. Everything in life boils down to choices. We live in a world of infinite possibilities. And every choice you make can either open or close an equal number of infinite doors.” As insightful as they were, his words took root in my mind, and I nodded.
“At any point, you can change the direction of your life by simply making another choice. It truly is in your hands, your heart, and in your mind.”
“You’re a very wise man, and your wife a very blessed woman,” I said, rising.
“One last piece of advice for the day. A wise man makes his own decisions. While an ignorant man follows public opinion.”
“A Chinese Proverb. I see you, Christopher King. On that note, I think I’ll carpe the hell out of this diem while I can.” I smiled as I walked toward the door, his rich laughter following me.
“I’m sure you will, young lady. I’m sure you will.”
My thoughts tangled into knots, pulling me deep into my head. Before I knew it, I was standing at the kitchen’s entrance—the one place that offered clarity when everything else felt like chaos. Chef Bonfils shot daggers my way while wildly waving the knife in his hand.
“Please tell me this will not be an everyday thing.”
“Well, I figured since it will be Nik and me for dinner tonight, it probably isn’t necessary for you to cook us anything. I can manage if you’d like,” I said sweetly.
“Excusez-moi? I shall banish you from my kitchen, manage dinner? I cannot believe my ears.” An intense look of offense crossed his features at the suggestion as he aggressively chopped some parsley.
I shimmied closer and peeked over at the pot on the stove. “Okay, then, can I make dessert for Nik? I wouldn’t want him to think you’re playing favorites. Alek told him all about his dessert last night.” I tried not to laugh at the incredulous look that crossed his face.
Sighing and waving his hand toward the pantry, he mumbled, “I can’t wait for you to leave. Interrupting my day.”
“Thank you so much. What do you think about a chocolate mousse?” I asked from the pantry, checking to see what type of chocolate they had.
“It will work. Master Nik is especially fond of chocolate,” he said. I grabbed the extra apron from the hook and put it on.
“I was wondering—”
“If you are going to ask a million questions, then I will absolutely throw you out,” he practically yelled, causing his assistant to jump.
Ignoring his outburst, I asked, “Espresso or cognac?” Irritation flashed across his face as he sized me up once more. “I think I’ll go with the cognac,” I said with a shrug.
I waited a minute and let him turn his back to me as he continued working, once again mumbling in French.
“Umm, Chef, where—”
“Girl, I promise you are skating on ice so thin right now. I’ll have Tully get you some. But that is it.” The girl ran off and returned a few minutes later with the bottle. “She didn’t need the whole thing, you silly nitwit.” He shook his head.
I mouthed “Thank you” and got busy.
It didn’t take me long, and after adding the final ingredients, I checked the clock on the wall. I had time to ice my bits, shower, and get ready for the evening, so I dished the mousse into small glass bowls and covered them. Then I grabbed a baggie, filled it with ice, and turned to Chef Bonfils.
“Merci, Chef,” I said, surprising him with a side hug. Steam nearly erupted from his ears, and his assistant tried not to laugh.
“Allez, dégage,” he huffed, straightening his apron before shooing me out of his kitchen. Go, go away.
“C’est gentil de m’aider,” I called over my shoulder, laughing at the look on his face. Thanks for your help.
Giddiness bubbled through my veins as I dashed to my room and took out the pen and paper I had borrowed from the library. Between icing my bits, I wrote out some clues. The Crow was going to have to work at getting some lovin’ tonight. Once my timer went off, I hustled my butt into gear.
Opening my door, I went in search of assistance. “Renee,” I exclaimed, running over to her. “I could use your help.”
“What did you need?” She grinned, and I glanced over my shoulder.
“Okay, so Nik should probably be here around five thirty-ish, and well, I want to do a scavenger hunt with him,” I said, blushing.
“And you need my help?” A mischievous grin tipped her lips.
“I really do, but just at the beginning. If he asks where I am, let him know I’m in my room. I think he’ll look for me there first, but he may not. Of course, I won’t be there, but his first clue will be.”
She laughed. “Sounds good, and like a lot of fun.”
“I hope it will be. Do you know which room is Nik’s from when he was younger?”
“This way,” she said with a shake of her head. She probably thought me mad, but I didn’t care.
I squealed, feeling light and carefree. After she showed me where his room was, I placed the clues around the house and then went back to set up in his bedroom.
I couldn’t help but feel happy as I looked around his old room.
It smelled like him, and little trinkets and things from when he was younger decorated the large space.
On the dresser sat a picture. Drawn to it, I picked it up and chuckled.
The original members of the Death Squad stood looking far too confident and cocky. They couldn’t have been over eighteen. A cross between teenagers and adults. It was fascinating to see them this way, and I wondered when he had last slept here. I set it back and turned to the bed.
Renee had given me extra sheets, and I tied one to each of the four bedposts.
The sheets were silk, and I shivered, thinking about how they were going to feel.
I bathed and oiled my body so I was soft to the touch.
Then placed candles all around his room and put music on a loop.
With all that done, I picked up my phone and dialed him.
“Malyshka, is everything okay?” he answered on the second ring.
“Yes. I was wondering if you got my email?” I posed the question, hearing the nervous edge in my tone.
“I did. Today’s been wild, so I haven’t had time to look at it, but I will when I get to the car. We can talk about it over dinner. I want to go over rules with you so you understand expectations. I’m on my way to you now.”
“Okay,” I said, purposefully keeping my voice nervous and quiet.
“Kinsley, baby, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing, really. I guess I’ll see you when you get here, then. I might check out one of your father’s books while I wait. See you soon,” I said, hanging up.
I tied each of my ankles to the bottom two sheets, spreading my legs wide. Using a piece of cloth, I fashioned a blindfold and tied it over my eyes. Then I wrapped my wrists with the other two sheets, positioned them at the top of the bed, and waited.
I had strategically placed clues around the house in hopes he was in the mood to play. Lying there in the dark, I listened to the music playing in the background.
Would he like seeing me this way—naked and tied to his bed? My mind raced with dirty thoughts and what he might do to me tonight. The anticipation was sweet, and I allowed my imagination to run wild.