Serena #2
“Apple, pleasure to see you again,” I said in a sickly-sweet tone.
I eyed her pants, lingering on the pocket that bulged, a telltale sign that it wasn’t tapered correctly.
“You know, I can always help if you need a better tailor. Whoever you’re using should know better than to allow puckering at the waist.” I motioned to my hips.
“And it’s so good to see you reusing styles.
That Hermes from last season really goes the distance, doesn’t it? ”
Apple’s smile dropped, and if looks could kill, I’d be dead three times over. I might be a simple servant to her, but I knew her world, how to play her game of insults, and exactly where to hit her the hardest.
Minnie would be pleased. I couldn’t wait to call her.
I stepped around them, pulling Enzo’s as I went.
He beat me to the door, opened it for me, and followed me out.
I didn’t know what to do. I had so many questions running through my head, I didn’t know where to start.
My heart was racing. I pulled the hand that still held onto Enzo like a lifeline and tried to shake it out to help with the adrenaline that was pumping through me.
I was excited and drained all at once.
I’d never truly gone toe to toe with Charles or Apple, always choosing to keep the peace because I knew they were capable making my life miserable. They always cornered me, and I struggled to find my voice.
But today? That wasn’t a problem. Not with Enzo there, reminding me I wasn’t alone, which was all I needed to stand up for myself.
And Enzo?
What was that? How did Enzo know where I was? Or what I ordered? So many questions, but I didn’t voice any of them. Instead, I kept my mouth shut and sent him a side eye, trying to get a read on him.
Not that I ever could on a typical day when he showed up at my studio. But really, what was his goal in all of this? Did he have an issue with Charles and thought that using me to rile him up was a good idea? Was he using me to get to him?
He had acted like there was more between us—like he wasn’t simply a client. I didn’t know how to make heads or tails of it, and it didn’t serve me to daydream about having a man like him in my life.
Enzo nudged me to the side, forcing me to walk on the inside while he took the spot closest to the road. He kept pace with me, like a silent guard dog daring anyone to come near me.
A side glance at his angry face told me that I shouldn’t make small talk or let him know that I could take care of myself. Who was I to stop someone who wanted to make sure I was safe?
Block after block, we walked until we were at my building. It was nice having someone around, even if there was no other interaction.
Turning to him, I stared again. It was like I struggled to form words when he was around. I never had this problem with anyone else, and it was frustrating.
“Thank you,” I said, lifting my almost finished coffee. Taking a chance, because I needed to know, I asked, “Do you have an issue with Charles?”
If it were business-related, I could understand using me. Not that it made the pain of being used hurt any less, but I’d understand.
“He doesn’t treat you or Harper right. He needs to be put in his place and reminded that neither of you is a pawn or an accessory he can grab when he feels like it.” Enzo crossed his arms and widened his stance like he was getting ready for a fight.
I clenched my jaw, ready to argue, but stopped myself. What was I arguing for? Was anything Enzo said wrong?
It wasn’t, as much as it pained me to admit.
How did he know that, though? A wave of embarrassment rolled over me as I realized he probably saw the gossip tabloids. Or maybe he followed the court case, since that too made the news cycle as people speculated what I would walk away with.
I shoved the embarrassment down. I refused to allow those public moments, ones that should’ve remained private, to define me.
“How do you know about that?” I asked, preparing myself for what he might say.
The only people who knew that Charles sucked at being a dad were Charles, Minnie, and me.
Harper was still blissfully unaware of her father’s failings, but she was getting older and more aware, and the window was closing to protect her from it all.
“I pay attention, Serena.” He stepped closer, invading my space.
I wanted to take a step back, but not from intimidation.
Enzo didn’t intimidate me at all. He had a commanding presence that drew me in.
No, I was nervous being this close to him.
It didn’t help me squash my crush on him at all.
Instead, all I could focus on was that he smelled different today, pine and something else I couldn’t immediately identify, and wanted to know what changed.
When I tilted my head up to gaze at him, he blocked out the sun that shown behind him, giving him an angelic hue.
With the wall at my back, I was stuck, but I didn’t want to move, did I?
“You paid attention to me?” I asked, swallowing thickly.
He ducked his head down, catching my eyes, giving me no option but to look at him.
“Yes. One day I’ll tell you what else keeps my attention these days.” His arm brushed mine as he opened the door that led into the foyer of my building.
“Go upstairs and lock your door since you don’t have any appointments today,” he said, his voice gruff. I didn’t question how he knew I had no appointments; I was too tongue-tied to articulate a question, let alone think of anything, when he was so close to me.
I slid past him, noting every inch of my body that brushed up against him in my attempt to skitter away.
Turning, I sprinted up the stairs, breathless and flushed, nearly tripping on the last step before I made it through the doors.
What just happened? What did he mean when he said, ‘paid attention’? Paid attention to me? Why? How did he know my schedule or my appointments?
So many questions, none of which I’d get the chance to ask.
It was like the moment I was away from him, my brain cleared the hot guy fog, and I could think clearly.
My phone pinged as I opened the door to my floor. Placing my coffee on a semi-cleared table, I pulled out my phone.
The dating app flashed with a notification.
Good. This was good. Maybe I’d have a realistic chance with one of the men on the site.
My heart slowly sank to my stomach as I read the message:
Serena,
Here at The One, we pride ourselves on helping people find their matches. We have a 99% success rate. Occasionally, though, we come across people we can’t help. Unfortunately, you’re one of them.
We hope you don’t stop looking for love. Best of luck on your search for The One.
Great. Rejected by a dating app. A new low.