8. Amias
EIGHT
AMIAS
I called Hayes on my way to my apartment.
"What's up? You in New York already?" Hayes asked.
He was in Chicago with his family for Thanksgiving. He was close to his parents and siblings—unlike me who came from a completely dysfunctional family. But even in my family we'd not do what Nolan was doing to Naya.
"Leaving in a few hours. Do you remember when we were talking about Nolan's dad's medical bills?"
"Ah…remind me?"
"This was after he died, and Nolan mentioned there was a mountain of bills and?—"
"Yeah, and he had to pay it down. That's when he went on the rant about the how expensive healthcare is," Hayed chuckled.
"What if I told you that he isn't paying one damn cent and Naya is carrying all of it?"
There was a pause. "Wouldn’t surprise me. He and Kara bought that house they can't afford. He gets to live in a nice home, and she has to pay this off on her own?"
"Yeah, man. Ann ridiculed her the other day for living in some hovel in South End and she bicycles everywhere because she can't afford a car."
"She's bicycling in Boston in this weather?" Hayes exclaimed.
"Yeah. Just watched her ride off into the snowy night," I bit out.
"Well, Nolan is a dick. We know that. I feel bad for Naya though. She's a good kid."
She wasn't a kid. She was a woman. And today while she was presenting, her hands in the pockets of her dress slacks, I spent an inordinate amount of time watching the fabric tighten across her ass when she moved.
She was in some baggy blouse that hid f?cking everything, but I'd seen her in a tight tank top and had no trouble imagining her tits.
Sure, they were smaller than what I usually preferred but I remembered how they were pert; how her stomach was tight and her arms feminine in their strength.
She'd put on her windbreaker too quickly for me to peruse properly but what I'd seen was still sexy as hell.
"And it's her first Thanksgiving since her father died…guess where Nolan and Kara are?"
"Fucking hell. She alone? You said she had a boyfriend, some ex-NFL player."
"He's just a friend, and he's in Miami. She's all alone for Thanksgiving, Hayes. What the fuck is wrong with Nolan?"
"He's a selfish mother fucker and his wife is a narcissist."
"I don't know what the fuck to do."
"Not much you can do, Amias."
I wished Hayes a good holiday and was in a sour mood when I got to my apartment. My very large five-bedroom penthouse apartment with a patio and private pool. We'd just been to Nolan and Kara's place, and it was ostentatious and large. And Naya was living in some small apartment.
I couldn't believe Ann had said that to her face at Legal Sea Foods. When I'd told Ann she'd been rude to Naya, she'd turned on me.
"She insists that Magnus stay with her. Kara said the carpet at her place is so old she's afraid Magnus will catch something."
"She doesn't have to leave her kid with her, Ann. They can hire a babysitter."
"She says she pays Naya."
"No, she doesn't as you very well heard from her boyfriend."
"Boyfriend? He's her sugar daddy. What does he see in her?"
I'd cut the conversation off after that, not wanting to listen to Ann continue to disparage Naya. I had no clue why she disliked her so much. Maybe because she was friends with Kara.
But the deeper question was what the fuck was I doing with a woman like Ann?
What did I see in her? She was convenient.
We knew each other well. The sex was amazing.
She was a great hostess and easy to take to parties and events that I was invited to.
She was charming when she wanted to be. She was fucking smart and had a successful career.
So, she was a little selfish…? Who wasn't? I was quite self-involved myself.
But there was one person I knew who was not at all selfish. Naya.
I couldn't believe Nolan had lied to us to gain our sympathy while his sister was shouldering the burden of their father's medical bills on a much smaller salary than his.
She'd also been the one who'd packed her bags and moved to Boston to take care of her father.
I wondered if they'd made any money selling their father's house in East Boston and decided, probably not.
Everything must have been used for the funeral and medical expenses otherwise Naya wouldn't be bicycling everywhere.
Ann kissed me when I stepped into the apartment. "I'm so looking forward to New York."
The Westbrook family came from old money, and I knew that was one of the things about me Ann found most attractive.
She got along better with my parents than I did.
Not that I didn't get along with them. It was polite and superficial, and we all got through Thanksgiving Dinner with practiced ease.
No dramas were ever tolerated at the Westbrook family dinner table.
"I need a shower." I didn't feel like kissing her back. I was still seething about Naya being alone for Thanksgiving, her first since her father died. How the fuck could Nolan do that to her?
"What time is our flight?" Ann asked.
"Late, around nine."
I had chartered a plane to avoid the travel drama on commercial. Maybe I could invite Naya to join my family for Thanksgiving. I could get her a room at the hotel we were staying in, and she could…what?
Spending the day with my family and Ann would probably be torture for Naya, especially since Ann had her claws out when it came to that poor girl.
While Ann was doing whatever the hell she was in my living room, I took a shower, pondering on how to make this holiday a little less lonely for Naya. I wrapped a towel around my waist and stepped into my bedroom. I picked up my phone and called the concierge of my building.
"Mr. Westbrook, how can I help you?" Guillaume asked.
"I don't know if you can, but I wanted to check. I want to send a Thanksgiving meal to someone?"
"As in for the homeless?" he asked.
Fuck! Is that what Naya would think? That this was charity?
"No, a…friend. She's alone for the holidays and I…." I didn't know what I was trying to do.
"Sir, we can absolutely arrange that for you. How about I have The Godfrey send over one of their dinners?" he suggested.
The Godfrey was a fantastic hotel and did a big Thanksgiving do. "Yeah, that sounds good. Thanks, Guillaume. I'll just text her address to you."
"My pleasure, Mr. Westbrook. I'll make sure you get an email about what was sent and when. Would you want a card to accompany this dinner?"
I thought about it for a moment and then said, "Yes. Just say Happy Thanksgiving, Amias."
"Okay."
"Actually, say: I'm sorry you're alone, I hope this makes up for it. And then the Happy Thanksgiving part."
"Will do, Mr. Westbrook. Is there anything else I can help you with?"
"That will be all, Guillaume. Happy Thanksgiving."
I hung up and found Naya's address in the company directory. I texted it to Guillaume along with her cell number.
I dropped my towel on the floor and walked naked into my walk-in closet. How big was Naya's apartment? My closet, I knew, was the size of someone's studio.
I enjoyed my wealth. Granted I had a trust fund, and my family had a whole lot of money, but I'd earned my fortune, and I had no problem living a life of luxury.
The circles I moved in, everyone was well off.
Even though Nolan was having financial issues right now, he'd just bought an expensive house in a coveted area of Boston, so, it wasn't like he was destitute.
Yet, he was leaving Naya to carry the burden of family debt.
Could I help with that? Would she even let me?
She'd gotten pretty prickly when I'd asked her why she couldn’t afford a car.
So, I already knew handouts would not be appreciated.
"Amias?" Ann was standing at the doorway of the closet, a glass of wine in hand. She saw me standing still, staring into space. "Is something the matter?"
"Nothing." I shook my head and found some clothes.
"Your mother wanted to talk about Christmas," she continued as I got dressed.
I put on jeans and a navy blue cashmere sweater. The housekeeper had already packed my suitcase. She knew what I needed when I traveled.
"What about Christmas?"
"Your parents are renting a chalet in the Swiss Alps. She wanted to make sure we didn't have other plans."
I wondered what Naya would do for Christmas. Would she be alone? Fucking hell! Why was I spending so much time thinking about her? She was an employee, a friend's sister…she meant nothing to me.
And, yet, I remembered her small smile as she presented, that quiet elegance with which she answered questions. She never got rattled. Ethan had said as much to me when he'd told me was going to promote her.
"No matter what's thrown at her, she keeps her cool. You should see her with her team. She's compassionate and they love her."
"I don't need people to love their manager, Ethan."
"But it helps tremendously."
"Whatever. She reports to you. She fucks up, it’s on you."
"I still can't understand why you have a problem with her?"
"I don't," I snapped. "She's on your team, do what you want with her."
Why the hell had I had such animosity towards her?
"Amias?" Ann prodded.
"What?" I asked as I put on my watch and looked for appropriate footwear.
"Christmas?"
Fuck! I wasn't even sure if Ann and I would be together at that time.
I was starting to feel more and more that this relationship wasn't working.
I didn't want to be with someone who was cruel to others like Ann was to Naya.
She wasn't normally like that. She had a whole lot of friends who liked her and most of my friends, except for Hayes, adored her and thought she was one hell of a catch, and I was one lucky son of a bitch.
"I don't know, Ann."
"What's to know? They're chartering a plane, and we can fly with them. It's just for a week. You know I love skiing in Switzerland."
"Fine," I muttered. It wasn't worth getting into an argument about. It was a whole month away. I'd figure it out, eventually.
She went on tiptoe and kissed me. Her arms went around me and her familiar scent, Good Girl Gone Bad by Kilian filled my nose.
I knew what perfume she used because I bought her those as gifts.
They retailed at a thousand dollars for 250 ml.
I never gave it a second thought. I spent more on jewelry and bags for her; this was pocket change.
I wondered how Naya would feel about getting such a perfume.
What did she smell like?
Roses, my brain immediately flashed. Yeah, roses. I may not have consciously registered it, but I knew. Her scent was subtle, not cloying like Ann's.
"Amias?" Ann whispered.
"Yeah, babe." I absently stroked her back.
She looked up at me and smiled. She was one of the most beautiful women I had ever laid eyes on.
She had perfectly symmetrical features. Her eyes were a deep blue, her cheekbones sharp…
she was movie-star gorgeous. She loved me.
I knew that. But did I love her? I always thought I did.
But I wondered now if I knew what the fuck it really meant to love someone?
How did I define love? Was the convenient and familiar relationship with Ann love? Or was it just convenient and familiar?
I suppressed the groan I wanted to let out. I was a thirty-five-year-old man seeming to be having a midlife crisis trying to understand the meaning of life.
Ann's eyes were bright with excitement. "I want us to get engaged."
I swallowed. I didn't know how to answer her.
I didn't want to hurt this woman. I'd known her for a long time.
I cared about her and even loved her, or at least I thought I did.
I didn't know yet if I wanted to get married to her.
I had so many doubts. I didn't want to be rushed. I had to let her down gently.
I sighed inwardly. There would be no letting her down gently. She'd fight tooth and nail with me. There would be a scene. It would be a shitshow. Or what the hell! Maybe we could get engaged and then break it off.
Christ! Why was everything so murky and why the hell was Ann pushing so hard when she knew I hated being pressured.
"You do, do you?" I gave her a false smile and kissed her nose.
"And I want to move in with you," she continued, now bolder because I had seemed to agree for us to get engaged. I had not.
"One thing at a time, darling," I murmured.
I knew why I was reluctant to have her move in with me. The one time we had lived together had not been fun for me. She wanted a picture-perfect house, and I wanted to live in my home. But we were older now, smarter, better…maybe we could make it work.
I wondered what Naya's little apartment looked like.
I'd bet my left nut that it was cozy and comfortable.
She probably liked to get home and sit on her couch, a cozy blanket covering her legs as she drank hot chocolate and watched television or read a book.
She seemed like the hot chocolate type; or maybe she liked Irish coffee.
Ann and I never spent an evening doing nothing.
We were either working, socializing, or on the move.
Is that how I wanted the rest of my life to be?
That was how my parent’s marriage worked.
It was how I had seen so many of my relatives and friends who were married function.
It was all about career, networking…showing people how well you were doing.
Then you had kids, and it was all about showing your kids off because they were successful and making a shit ton of money.
It was a vicious cycle where how you were perceived was more important than how you actually lived your life.