Chapter 12
Twelve
NARDI
My emotions are all over the place. Like a tossed salad, I’m thrown this way and that with just one word from Ronan Cullen.
Embarrassing.
All he does is touch me and my resolve crumbles.
I’ve got no foundation. If I were a ship, I’d be one without an anchor in the middle of a storm. How do I find safe harbor without running straight into the iceberg? How do I stop from crashing and drowning in those icy grey eyes?
It doesn’t help that I’m locked away at home with nothing to do but think. Television doesn’t hold my attention. Neither does scrolling on my phone. I’ve been working non-stop since I was eighteen years old and I feel restless when my hands are idle.
After rearranging the pillows on the couch—twice—and then trying to sweep with one hand and almost whacking myself in the face with the broom, I give up and retreat to my bedroom.
As I watch my humble twin sized bed, Ronan’s promise whispers back to me.
Wait for me tonight.
Heat creeps up the back of my neck as I imagine what that means. His fingers unclasping my bra? His lips on my neck? His body pressing mine deeper into the mattress?
The heat whips into an inferno and I press my thighs together as an unfamiliar and incessant ache makes itself known.
What the heck am I imagining? Ronan Cullen insinuated that he’s a virgin. Even if he isn’t, I can’t imagine a personality that reclusive and hermit-like being impressive in the bedroom.
My eyes flash on the bed again. Yup.
It’ll probably be awful.
I shouldn’t imagine anything about him in that way. It’s never going to happen. I won’t let it happen.
I march up to my bed and wrench off my sheets. It’s a brutal task to get the material off with one hand. Flattening myself on the bed, I wiggle the corners free and they roll up with a frightening speed. I continue to wrestle with the sheets until sweat rolls down my forehead.
The pillowcases are next. An ingenious idea dawns on me after three awful attempts at undressing my pillows with one hand.
My teeth become the limb I’m missing. I bite down hard on the pillow, wiggle the pillowcase off and do a little victory dance for the achievement.
Winded but undeterred, I bundle my dirty sheets and pillowcases into a ball and stuff them into a laundry bag.
I leave my apartment with the bag on my back and make the short trip to the nearby laundromat. I’m absolutely, one hundred percent washing my sheets because I’m disgusted by the thought of Ronan lying on them. The thought itself is dirty, thus, I pour in extra fabric softener.
As I wait for the linens to wash, I scroll my phone. Out of nowhere, a lingerie ad pops up on my feed.
My eyes widen and I quickly swipe down so the image leaves.
Is my phone spying on me? I’ve never once seen a lingerie ad when I’ve been scrolling before. It’s usually all ads for kids like backpacks for Josiah, programming-themed T-shirts, and school supplies.
Any data scraping company should look at my search history and think I’m only interested in IT related supplies. Where did this slinky, red lace ensemble come from?
Clearing my throat, I check the laundry.
Ten minutes left on the clock.
Well, I’ve got nothing better to do. A little look around on that lingerie site won’t hurt.
As I wait for the page to load, I tell myself I’m not looking because of Ronan. I’m an adult and a woman and, for those two reasons alone, it is well within my right to peruse and possibly purchase, pretty underwear.
I look around the laundromat to make sure no one is watching me. A row of machines spreads out before me. There’s no one except me and an elderly woman in the laundromat, but she’s all the way on the other side of the room.
Lowering my cell phone a bit, I return my attention to the site. Immediately, a woman’s lower torso and bare legs fill my screen. Those body parts are nothing I haven’t seen before. Nothing I don’t have myself. And yet, they seem absolutely scandalous now.
I hurry to tap on the ‘x’ so the pop up shrinks back into the corner where it belongs. Inhaling shakily, I forge on and slide through the different ensembles.
The first few pieces are extremely uncomfortable-looking. One of the thongs comes with beads. It looks like a pearl necklace. Am I supposed to wear that around my neck or around my legs? What on earth are they supposed to cover? I’m getting a wedgie just looking at it.
I tap away from the adventurous designs and slide through the rest of the page. The silky night dresses catch my eye.
Beep!
I leave my phone on the bench and gather my sheets with one hand so I can toss them in the dryer.
“That’s cute!” a frail voice says.
I whirl around, mortified when I see the elderly woman, who’d been on the other side of the room, peering over my cell phone. She has her laundry basket balanced on her hip. A gnarled finger points at the screen.
“I’d go with the white one. That’ll look lovely against your skin.” She eyes me like a human color finder. “I’d say you’re more of a cocoa brown with a cool undertone. You know? Maybe the powder blue will work too.”
“Uh…” I turn away from the dryer with the door swinging open and rush to scoop up my phone.
The woman steps back. “Oh sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. I just happened to see it.”
My heart is thudding as if I got caught trying to sell feet pics. I tilt the phone flat against my chest and release an uncomfortable smile. “I was just looking.”
“Oh honey, of course you were.” She winks. “Take my advice. If you really want to impress him, get a matching sheer set. I can tell you’re a little shy and the sheer will have a very sultry effect without making you uncomfortable when he starts nipping and nibbling.”
“Oh my gosh.”
She cackles. “I was young once too, you know. Just because I’m old now, doesn’t mean I haven’t had a full , thick, long… life.”
My heart is about to burst. “Uh… good for you.”
“And good for you too, sweetie.” She twirls around with her basket. “I hope you and your gentleman have a good night.”
“I really was just looking!” I defend myself.
The door slams behind her.
She’s gone.
Flopping into the bench, I swipe away from the lingerie site and then clear it from my history for good measure.
Unbelievable.
She totally got the wrong impression. I wasn’t looking because I have a boyfriend. I don’t. I’m very much single and have been since…
I block the memories before they have a chance to bloom fully.
The point is, I’ve been happy despite not having time to date. I worked like crazy and now I can provide for my family. I can send money back home to my mom in Belize. I can afford to take care of my little brother and help him get through school.
I have everything I need.
And guess what I don’t need.
A man.
Even if I can still feel Ronan’s wiry but strong arms binding my body flat against his. Even if I can still see the flash of white teeth as he smiled at me.
He’s… infuriating .
He’s insane, actually. On day one, he asked me to marry him. And now, he thinks he can just announce his intentions to sleep with me while being very aware that I despise him.
Does he think I’m easy? Is that why he keeps flashing those silver eyes and acting like it does something to me?
Well, it doesn’t.
I’m completely unaffected.
Launching to my feet, I stomp to the door of the laundromat before I remember that I don’t have my laundry with me. Even worse, I hadn’t closed the dryer door.
Tucking my tail between my legs, I slink back to the dryer and twiddle my thumbs until the cycle ends.
I’m on my way back home with clean sheets and no more online shopping attempts when I see Jenna climbing out of a car in the parking lot. I’m already in a funky mood and the sight of her doesn’t exactly turn that around.
Please don’t let this woman talk to me .
I intentionally slow my steps so Jenna and I don’t cross paths. At first, my plan works. That is… until a voice calls out loud enough for an alien in a spaceship flying over Mars to hear.
“Nardi! Hey, Nardi!” Asad quickens his stride to approach me.
I cringe when Jenna spins around and spots me too.
So much for going incognito.
Asad hustles forward, gripping the strap of his book bag. I stare at the shorter man. Not to generalize, but Asad looks exactly like a programmer. He and Cullen might have different skin tones and heights, but both men are the same, for all intents and purposes.
They’re both on the scrawny side.
Super book smart.
Quiet.
Non-confrontational.
Zero swag.
Aka not my type.
Hear that, brain? Cullen isn’t my type so you can stop with the imagining him in my bed thing.
“What happened to your arm?” Asad asks, stopping in front of me, his eyes wide with concern. “How did you get hurt?”
“It was just a little accident. Nothing serious.”
“Did you go to the hospital?”
“Cullen took her,” Jenna says, walking up to us.
I frown at her butting into the conversation. Who exactly was speaking to her?
“Hey, Jenna.” Asad melts when she gets closer.
Jenna ignores him, her shrewd eyes on me. The smile on her face looks as fake as the jewelry I buy from the door-to-door salesman when he comes around asking for support.
“Oh no.” Jenna pouts and blinks her eyelashes. “Does it hurt a lot?”
Translation: I hope it hurts like a stubbed toe.
“It’s fine. Did you get home okay yesterday? Things were so chaotic that I only remember bits and pieces. I think Cullen might have said something to you?”
Translation: I distinctly remember Cullen telling you in no uncertain terms to ‘go home’ and I’m happily rubbing your face in it.
“Yeah, I did get home okay.” Her smile turns brittle. “I guess Cullen didn’t update you? He and I were texting until pretty late last night.”
Annoyance burns in my chest, but I toss my chin higher and reply, “He took such good care of me last night. That was probably the only time he could talk to you.”
Translation: Step off, you she-witch.
Jenna glowers at me.
I smirk and toss my damp hair over my shoulder. Mike drop.
Asad laughs. “Yeah, that sounds like Cullen. He doesn’t care what time it is. The guy will wake you out of bed if he has an idea. He’s done it to me many times.”
Jenna blushes and suddenly finds something interesting to look at on the ground.
“And,” Asad turns to me, “let me guess. It was his fault that you got hurt yesterday?”
My eyes shoot to the sky.
“Cullen might be many things, but the guy’s a stickler for taking responsibility. He must have been the first born in his family. It’s giving ‘older brother’ vibes.”
I huff out a breath. “Yeah, that’s Cullen. Mr. Responsibility. If you’ll excuse me…” I turn to my apartment entrance.
Jenna stalks in the direction of the company.
Asad tips me a grin. “See you around, Nardi!”
I wave a hand in response and head up the stairs.
Asad’s interpretation of Cullen’s behavior hit a nerve and Jenna revealing that Cullen was talking to her late last night also bothers me. After all she said to me yesterday, he’s still working with her.
Which is totally his right.
But then… if he really was trying to protect me from Jenna, would he act like everything’s back to normal, knowing she disrespected me?
What Cullen said about the situation and what he did doesn’t match up. Jenna was rude to me and he kept quiet and even stepped in front of her.
Even if there’s tension between Cullen and I, it’s more of the unexpected and physical variety. I get the feeling that Jenna is his typical type. She’s a programmer, so they can actually understand each other. She’s got that girl-next-door vibe going with her blonde hair and blue eyes. Plus Cullen probably sees her as the opposite of ‘aggressive’—gentle, sweet, and pliable.
And maybe she is.
Maybe Jenna didn’t clean houses all day, every day as a teenager. Maybe she never put groceries back after balking at the total when she made it to the cashier. Maybe she’s never walked home in the dead of night because she had to work until ten pm when the buses stopped running.
I’m sure I’d be a lot more pleasant and bubbly and starry-eyed if I hadn’t lived the life I did. But we can’t all be Jenna .
Annoyed for reasons I don’t want to explore, I stomp to my apartment door and head straight to the kitchen for a snack. There are plenty of fruits and nuts, but nothing with preservatives or food coloring. Where’s the chocolate? The corn chips? The candies?
Then it strikes me. I’ve been on a health journey trying to wean Josiah off of fast food. Unfortunately, the ‘Junk Food Craving’ Nardi is paying for the ‘We Need To Clean Up Our Diet’ Nardi.
I’m debating whether I should head back out and go hunting for something to snack on when my phone rings.
It’s Sunny.
“Hey, Sunny,” I say, infusing a brightness into my voice that I don’t feel, “everything’s on track for the end of the month. Don’t worry.”
“Nardi, I heard about your wrist.”
My fingers tighten on the phone. “What? How?”
“Cullen told Darrel to inform me. He said you got hurt yesterday and that the doctor put you on two weeks of rest.”
I grit my teeth. “He told you all that?”
“Yes, he did.” Sunny sounds genuinely worried. “Are you okay, Nardi? Do you need anything?”
“I’m perfectly fine. Everything will proceed as planned.”
“Nonsense. We would never want you to jeopardize your health. Taking care of yourself is more important. We can work together next time.”
I see my potential pay check swirling down the drain. Urgency in my voice, I insist, “Sunny, really. I’m okay. I can handle it.”
“Cullen told us you’d say that.” She chuckles. “He made Darrel promise not to be swayed by you.”
“Cullen doesn’t speak for me,” I snap.
“Oh no. This isn’t because of him. I, also, think you should focus on getting better.”
“But Sunny?—”
“Even if you’re not catering, I’d still love to have you at the farmhouse.”
My shoulders slump. Why would I show up to her party when I’m not catering and I won’t know anyone? “Isn’t it your mom’s birthday?”
“Yeah, but we see mom all the time. It would make her so happy to talk to someone new about Belize. Everyone’s already heard the same stories so they don’t react much anymore. But be warned, she’ll chat your ear off.”
“I’ll think about it,” I say noncommittally.
“Great! And I mean it, Nardi. Please let me know if you need anything.”
“Sure.”
We hang up and I grit my teeth. Losing that pay check hurt, but the pain quadruples exactly thirty minutes later when I get an alert from the group chat for the PTA Moms.
Has anyone seen or heard from Josiah Davis’ guardian?
Her name’s on the list but she hasn’t been active.
@Nardi? Hey, I see you’re in the group chat, but you haven’t been speaking. We want to rent a photo booth for the annual fundraiser, but the school says it’ll have to come from our own pocket. We’re each putting $500 in to get it together. Can you handle that?
Five hundred dollars?
My jaw drops. That number is astronomical. Will the photo booth be lined with literal gold?
I ignore the messages and stuff my phone into my back pocket. Catering for Sunny’s party would have easily covered that cost and more. I’d be able to save face with the other moms and happily pay for that booth.
Now, not only will I have to attend the stupid PTA meetings under their savage and watchful eyes, but I’ll have to go knowing I can’t afford to invest like they have.
It’s humiliating.
I can’t believe Cullen told Darrel and Sunny not to hire me. Who the hell does he think he is to interfere like that?
Anger builds and builds in my chest.
I want to storm downstairs and confront him immediately, but I already know what he thinks of me and my ‘attitude’. If I fly into his office and let loose now, it’ll only prove to him, Jenna and all his employees that I’m as ‘aggressive’ and ‘emotionally unregulated’ as they all think.
I force myself to pick up my laundry from the sofa and spread my bed.
If I thought taking the sheets off was difficult, it’s impossible to put them on again. Every time I get a corner to stay and start on another one, the first one snaps out of place.
It’s like a game of bedsheet whackamole.
After three rounds, the scores are set.
Bed, 1
Nardi, 0
“Dammit!” I scream, flouncing on the center of the mattress. My mind travels to my lost catering gig again and I fume.
Ronan Cullen.
The nosy butt-hole.
I pull at the sheet with my one good hand, wrenching and punching it the way I wish I could punch his pale-as-a-ghost face.
In the middle of my one-man gang initiation on the bedspread, a knock sounds at the door. I stop with my fist pulled away from my rumpled sheets.
Who could that be?
The knock sounds again.
“Alright, alright. I’m coming,” I snap. Ambling to the door, I open it a peep. An unfamiliar woman is standing outside. Behind her is a hamper filled with cleaning products.
“Can I help you?” I ask woodenly.
“Hi.” She smiles, revealing a gold tooth. “I’m Ashley. Can I come in?”
“Uh…”
“Ronan sent me.”
I still show no signs of recognition and I still don’t open my door.
Her face drops. “Did he not tell you?”
“No.”
“That man. He must be busy working and forgot. Why don’t you send him a text? He’ll explain.”
I look behind her and notice a burly man wearing a straight face.
She smiles over her shoulder. “Oh, this is my cousin. Ronan mentioned that it would be difficult lifting the trolley up all those stairs. I’m glad he warned me beforehand. Most people wouldn’t. He’s surprisingly considerate, isn’t he?”
I blink slowly. “Can you give me one moment?”
“Sure.”
I close the door, grab my phone from my bedroom and call Cullen’s number.
It rings and rings.
He’s not answering.
I try calling again.
Still no answer.
After the third time, my phone beeps.
It’s Cullen.
In a meeting.
I scowl and type: did you send someone to clean my house?
CULLEN: is it twelve already?
ME: Answer the freaking question!
CULLEN: Yes, I sent Ashley.
ME: A heads-up would have been nice!
CULLEN: Ashley’s great. I asked her to make you something to eat as well.
I type out a long response with a few choice words but, before I can press send, Cullen responds first.
CULLEN: Gotta go.
I send more angry texts.
He doesn’t respond to any of them.
That… maniac.
I control my temper the best I can. I know what it’s like to work with rude people and I don’t want Ashley to think I’m being short-tempered because of her. It has nothing to do with her at all.
When I open the door again, Ashley is alone.
“Did you talk to Ronan?” she asks and, before I can say either yes or no, she starts rolling her trolley into me.
I stop her with a hand. “Cullen asked you to come here without my knowledge or permission.”
Her eyes shift with confusion.
“So,” I motion to the hallway, “I’m sorry you wasted your time.”
“Oh. Of course. I’m sorry to bother you.” She dips her chin and wheels her trolley down the hallway. I watch her pause and contemplate how she’ll get the giant trolley down the staircase.
Guilt tugs on my heart and I hurry out of my apartment to catch up to her.
“Need some help?” I offer.
“This is too heavy for either of us.”
“Not if we take it together.”
Her eyes drop to my wrist brace. “What will Cullen say if he heard I had you lifting this heavy thing while injured?”
I grit my teeth because I couldn’t give two claps of my butt cheeks what Cullen will say about anything I do right now. “Where did your cousin go?”
“He had to work. I’m trying to call another cousin of mine, but he’s not picking up.”
I lower my head and massage my temples. “Why don’t you wait in my apartment?”
“Are you sure?” She looks uneasy. “I don’t want to infringe.”
“It’s alright.” I gesture for her to precede me.
Ashley wheels the trolley into my small living room and looks around. “You have a cozy place.”
“Thanks.”
“Is that your son?” She points to a picture of Josiah.
“My brother.”
“Oh, I thought you were a single mother.”
I pick up that she’s relieved that I’m not. “What’s wrong with being a single mother?”
Ashley’s eyes widen. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I just… Cullen is very clean and he likes the quiet. Children aren’t known for having either of those traits. That’s all I meant.”
“Right. Sorry. I’m the one who’s overreacting.”
“It’s fine. It’s fine. I have kids of my own, so I know how protective we can get over them. Do you have children?”
“No, it’s just my brother, but he’s living with me, so you can say I’m his mom while he’s here.”
“Ah.” Her smile widens. “That’s sweet of you.” She glances around the room. “If you don’t mind, I’m dying to know how you and Cullen met. He never leaves the house, and he only ever works. Was it through an online dating app?”
“I’m not dating Cullen.”
“Er… right.” Her eyes dart away from me. “I know how much you young folks hate labels. Forget I asked.”
“That’s not?—”
“Is it okay if I clean a few things? I won’t go into any room you don’t want me to or touch anything you don’t want me to. It’s just that Ronan already paid me for the job and I’d hate to accept his money without doing something.”
Since I’ve very recently been put out of a job, I get it. “Sure.”
“Is there anywhere you’d like me to start?”
“Would you mind… helping me spread my bed? I washed the sheets today, but I can’t put them back on.”
“Of course.”
Ashley makes quick work of my bedspread. She also sweeps and mops the floor in my room, which hasn’t been done in ages.
Next, she turns her attention to my living room. The woman works so quickly and so thoroughly that I can’t help but watch her. If I’d been this good at my job, I probably would have owned my own cleaning company by now.
Ashley gets to work in the kitchen and prepares a meal that I scarf down in three minutes flat. She washes all my dishes and then her cousin returns to help her bring the trolley down.
“It was nice meeting you, Nardi.” Ashley waves to me from the hallway.
I wrap my fingers around the door knob, smiling. “You too. Thank you so much for the help and the company.”
“It was my pleasure.” She surprises me by stepping in to give me a hug. “And thank you.”
“For what?”
Pulling back, Ashley says, “I’ve been working with Cullen for years now. He may seem cold and unapproachable, but he’s a very kind man. He lives a lonely life, but I don’t think he wants it that way. Getting close to people is very difficult for him. He fired fifteen cleaners before me, and I went through a rigorous process before he trusted me in his home. Even then, he doesn’t talk to me much at all. We communicate with notes and emails.” She laughs. “He has his quirks as we all do, but he’s very loyal and very generous.”
“It’s really not like that,” I tell her.
“Whatever your relationship is, I hope it works out for you both. Cullen has been alone for a long time. I’m thrilled that he’s finally let someone in.”
Ashley waves and saunters away with her trolley and her cousin in tow.
I return to my apartment that now smells like heaven. I’m not sure what to make of Ashley’s words. I’m still ticked that Cullen meddled with my catering gig for Sunny. However, I can’t deny that it feels amazing to have my bed spread and my kitchen cleaned the way I like it.
He does one thing to piss me off and another to make me feel taken care of. The man has me on a roller coaster and I’m not sure how to get off the ride.
Hours later, I blast awake to the sound of my chirping phone. I pick up the device and see that the incoming message is from Josiah informing me that he’s on his way home with Cullen.
I shoot to my feet. After Ashley left, I took my pain pills and put on a TV show. I don’t remember taking a nap.
There’s another chirp and I see a second text from Josiah.
JOS: I’m downstairs with Cullen and Dr. Ko.
I wiggle into some slippers and storm downstairs. Sure, I gave Josiah permission to visit Dr. Ko, but I never said Cullen could pick him up from school.
Minutes later, I screech to a halt in front of the entrance to Cullen Tech. My fingers wrap around the door. I yank.
It doesn’t budge.
Thankfully, a receptionist sees me through the glass pane and buzzes me in.
“Hi, Nardi,” she says brightly.
I stop short. “Do I know you?”
“Oh.” She chuckles. “No, but Mr. Cullen gave me a list of important guests and I recognized you right away.”
“How many people were on the list?” I ask curiously.
“Uh,” she glances down. “Just you and Mr. Richard Sullivan. Mr. Cullen is in the conference room with the team.” She gestures down the hallway. “It’s the third door on the right. Would you like me to take you?”
“No, it’s fine,” I stammer. Cullen has me on a list along with the literal billionaire partner of his company. The fact that he’d even think of a detail like that makes me uneasy about my odds of winning in this game we’re playing.
This man really is insane.
I stomp into the conference room, thinking it’ll only be a handful of people. To my surprise, the place is packed with tech guys, all dressed in T-shirts, polos and jeans. Cullen is all the way at the front, along with Josiah who seems excited enough to burst.
A man with glasses and a wrinkled brown suit is standing in front of a projector. None of his words make sense to me, but the rest of the room buzzes with excitement after every sentence.
Someone raises their hand to ask a question. And again, a totally different language pours out of their mouth.
Dr. Ko chuckles. “I’m just a nuclear energy specialist. I think Mr. Cullen is more suitable to the role of explaining the connection between new energy and a customized mainframe. Mr. Cullen?”
Cullen walks to the front of the room under the applause of his team. He starts talking about codes and firewalls and other things I have no clue about. There’s no hint of shyness in him. No sign of the man Ashley described who wouldn’t even speak to her while she cleaned his house.
Chuckles break out.
Did he say something funny? I didn’t get the joke.
What I am getting is a heat stroke.
But it’s not because Cullen is hot. I mean, sure, he has a nice jaw line. And he’s cute the rare times he smiles.
Like he’s smiling now.
But it’s a proven phenomenon that all men look better in a uniform or when they’re good at their jobs.
And, sure, Cullen is crazy but he’s also, clearly, a genius because the other super smart people in this room are hanging on his every word. I even hear a few smattering keyboard clacks as people take notes.
Cullen flashes another easy smile while pushing up the sleeve of his hoodie. He gestures with those long, pale hands and my heart starts beating double time.
Somehow, in the middle of his speech, he notices me sitting at the back. He stops talking abruptly.
I flinch, wondering if my admiration is showing on my face. Before I can coach my expression into something close to the anger and disgust I’m supposed to feel, the very corner of his lips tilts up.
I can’t look away. I can’t even breathe.
That tiny twitch of his mouth is just for me.
And I realize, right then and there, that there’s no way of getting off this roller coaster. Ronan Cullen has me by the throat and all I can do is strap in for the ride.