Chapter 28
Chapter twenty-eight
Amy
“So, let me get this right?” Katie says.
I’m lying on my belly in bed chatting with her on my tablet, having just showered. My hair is wrapped in a towel, and I’m wearing my snuggly robe. Although I’m excited to see Ivan, the thought of getting dressed is unwelcome.
“You’re dating, but not dating. He’s giving you all the feels, but you’re not together. And,” she pauses for effect, “you’re going to his family’s Christmas Eve meal.”
“Yes,” I reply, trying to keep my face straight at her expression, her eyebrows drawn together in confusion. I miss my friend.
“That makes no sense.”
“We’re seeing how it goes. I’m not prepared to categorize our relationship,” I tell her.
“It’s a relationship now?” she snorts, shaking her head. “You really need to update your relationship status from divorced to it’s complicated.”
I roll my eyes. “In the loosest sense of the word,” I reply sharply, becoming annoyed with her prodding. “Anyway, how are you? What are your plans for the big day tomorrow?”
Her face falls. “Oh, Brad has a group of friends coming for Christmas dinner. There will be caterers, and God knows what else.” Her tone dims like fading sunshine. She glances off-screen, her voice barely a whisper. “It’s all so different here.”
“You could always come home,” I tell her, hopeful. The distance between us feels wider than the ocean.
She shakes her head. “No, this is where I’m meant to be,” she says with renewed determination. I don’t argue, not wanting to make her mad. “Okay, just remember, I’m here if you ever need me. Phone me anytime, day or night.”
She gives me a soft smile in return. “I’m fine, Amz.” A man’s voice drones behind her, and she immediately ends the call. The screen goes black. I’m left staring at myself.
That evening, I take in my reflection in the full-length mirror.
My red dress wraps around my bosom, waist, and hips before fanning out gently and finishing just below my knees.
Platinum blonde curls frame my softly bronzed face, complimented by bright red lips.
Simple black kitten heels complete the look.
Festive, sure. But do I look like I’m trying too hard? I swipe another coat on my lips, praying it all comes together.
Ivan is due any minute to collect me for this Christmas meal. I’m nervous, terrified really. The man has the gift of silence between visits. The odd text message to confirm plans or details, but no good morning messages or a simple “How are you?”
It is in complete contrast to my ex-husband, who was constantly in touch. Hardly an hour went by with no contact, irrespective of where we both were, especially in the beginning. Ivan Harley is a whole different ballgame.
***
Ivan’s Auntie Meryl sits in the old red floral chair in the cramped living room of her shoebox-sized brick house, just two rooms on the ground floor and two above. Unchanged since the 1980s, the kind you see in every small town.
Her thinning gray hair is tightly permed against her head, and her withered body is swamped by the fern-green pleated skirt and wool jumper ensemble she wears. Her family gathers around her, waiting with bated breath for her to speak. It’s like she’s a mafia don, not an elderly woman.
“I can’t believe she still lives on her own,” I whisper to Ivan, sitting beside me on the sagging couch. His mouth opens, but he’s interrupted by his aunt.
“I’m ninety-eight, not dead, dear,” she says with a grin, exposing bright-white false teeth. Her voice is thin but fierce, the kind I imagine a retired army major having. “As long as I can get out of bed on my own, I will be living under my own roof.”
“I’m sorry,” I stumble. “I didn’t mean…”
The other five family members’ eyes focus on me. I swear, each one is laughing under their breath at my discomfort. “I’m sorry,” I mumble again. No doubt my skin matches the color of my dress.
“So, dear,” she says, her piercing eyes fixed on me. “How did you meet my nephew? Ivan never brings a girl home. You’ve certainly made an impression.”
She gestures to my dress with her hand. I feel extremely self-conscious about being completely overdressed for the occasion.
Ivan collected me wearing a dark pair of jeans and a simple black cashmere sweater. He looked utterly fuckable. I’d been wrapped in my heavy winter coat, so he hadn’t seen my dress until we arrived.
Upon walking into the house, we’d been met by his two aunts, their husbands, Aunt Meryl, and his cousin Cheryl. Meryl and Cheryl, who does that to their children? They sound like a comedy duo.
As I took in their attire, my stomach fell to my toes. Each one was wearing a Christmas jumper with standard jeans. They looked as if they were going to a Christmas fair rather than a festive meal.
We had all stood in the hall awkwardly after our stifled introductions. Ivan signaled to me for my coat, and I unzipped it slowly, exposing my pillar-box red dress. He flashed me a sexy smile before reconfiguring his face back to neutral.
We were all herded into the living room by one of the women, and I deposited myself on the sofa. I hadn’t moved since, attempting to fade into the eclectic fabric.
“We met through work,” I tell her.
“You work for him?” she asks, her lips pursed in displeasure. Obviously, she doesn’t approve of sleeping with the help.
“No, I used to have my own gym.” The familiar strain in my chest appears as it does every time I think of Bex’s New You. I still feel like an utter failure for losing my business. Sensing my unease, Ivan’s hand finds mine, his fingers curling around my palm. “We met through mutual friends.”
She nods, appeased for the moment, then fires again. “How long have you been courting?”
I look at her blankly.
“She means dating,” Ivan whispers.
“Courting, dating, it’s the same thing,” the old woman interjects.
“A few weeks…”
“Months, darling,” Ivan interrupts smoothly. Three months tomorrow.” The word darling lingers like smoke.
He smiles at me then glances toward his uncle, whom we met at the country club earlier in the month. Oh yes, I forgot about him―this fake dating ruse is complicated. I’m not even sure if it’s bogus anymore—it doesn’t feel like it.
“Three months,” Aunt Meryl says, clapping her hands together. “From what I’ve heard about you, Ivan, that must be a record.”
He clears his throat, his grip tightening on my hand. “I’m not sure my past relationship track record is an appropriate conversation for Christmas Eve. Especially in front of my girlfriend. Can we move on?”
Girlfriend. My heart beats slightly harder in my chest after hearing the word.
“You’re a bit old to have a girlfriend,” Aunt Meryl says with a snicker. “Surely a man your age has a partner?” Ivan glares at her but doesn’t respond. “Girlfriend,” she repeats, shaking her head. Then the conversation moves on to less embarrassing topics, much to my relief.
Christmas dinner is a feast of turkey with all the trimmings. People take turns reading terrible jokes pulled from party crackers, the evening rounded off with a game of charades.
Ivan is more relaxed than I’ve ever seen him, surrounded by his close family. Every so often, our gazes meet, and my heart skips. Watching him interact with these people is heart-warming. The man always in control, undone by those who love him.
The evening ends as the clock strikes eleven. Aunt Meryl lifts both hands above her head and yawns dramatically.
“Time’s marching on,” she says. “My bed is calling.”
Ivan and I take our cue to leave. He rises from his chair and walks over to her, crouching down beside her as she sits in her armchair. “I’ve had a wonderful time, auntie,” he says. “Thank you for inviting me.”
She lifts a wrinkled hand and strokes her nephew’s face. “You’ve always been a good boy,” she whispers. “I’m so pleased I’ve seen you find the one before I go.” She glances at me. “Keep her safe and enjoy each other. Life passes in the blink of an eye.”
Her words cling to me all the way to the car.
The drive back is made in silence. His thumb brushes slow circles over my hand resting on his thigh. Streetlights flash across his profile as we pass them, one by one.
Outside my apartment, we stop on the curb. He turns off the engine, still holding my hand.
“Thank you for a lovely evening, Amy,” he says. “What are your plans for tomorrow?”
“I’m going to spend the morning in bed with the dogs.”
He chuckles.
“Then I’ve been invited to my brother-in-law’s for dinner. What about you?”
“Christmas is like any other day,” he replies with a shrug. “I’ll do some work uninterrupted for a change. My mobile will be quiet for once.”
“You’re spending it alone?” I say, shocked.
“You maybe want to lift your lower jaw off the floor.” I try to laugh, but it sticks. All I feel is sadness. “It’s nothing new. I’ve spent plenty of Christmases in my own company. Anyway, thank you for tonight.”
Unsure of what to do next, I wait for him to make the next move. Time passes, but nothing happens. My chest aches with something unspoken.
“Okay, I’ll see you later then,” I murmur. He releases my hand, and I swing my legs out into the icy air. The cold hits hard. My shoulders slump in defeat. The buzz of the window lowering causes me to pause.
“Amy,” he calls, his voice rough. “I love your dress.”
I smirk, glancing over my shoulder. “Perhaps I was slightly overdressed for dinner.”
He leans on the wheel, eyes dark. “I would agree you’re overdressed, but I’m not talking about the dress code for dinner.”
My mouth dries; his words laden with sexual innuendo. The air hums, both sharp and electric.
“Would you like to come in?” I ask, figuring I’ve got nothing to lose.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
He’s out of the car in a heartbeat. His hands grip my hips, pulling me against him. I snake my arms around his neck. Our lips collide, mine parting willingly, hungry, desperate even. My world narrows to the sound of his breathing against my lips.
He pins me to the car, kissing harder, the taste of him flooding my senses.
“The window’s still open,” I whisper, breathless.
“Fuck the window.” Sharp teeth nip my bottom lip. “Let’s go inside.”
My logic, the little restraint I have, snaps. I want him.
He grabs my hand, dragging me toward the door.
“Ivan,” I gasp. “Your window. The seat will get…”
He spins back, eyes blazing “Amy, right now, the only thing I’m interested in is getting inside and having you naked underneath me. Don’t mention the window again.”
A thrill shoots through me with the rawness in his voice. I should be offended. But I’m not. I just let him kiss me again, rougher until I see stars.
At the door, I rummage in my bag for my keys. They slip through my fingers.
“Hurry up,” he whispers darkly, wrapping his arms around my waist. His lips drop to my neck, and I drop them again.
“I’ll never find my keys if you keep distracting me,” I murmur.
“I’ll happily fuck you here,” he says, sending a jolt straight through me. Need. Want. Both. “But I’d rather the neighbors didn’t get a show.”
Finally, my fingers land on the cool metal. I pull the keys from my bag, and my lips split wide. “Found them.”
“Well, open the damn door.”