Page 13

Chapter thirteen

“ M ya! Are you in there?” yelled Paris. She’d been banging on her friend's door for five minutes, with no answer. It was Sunday morning, and they were to meet her mother and father for brunch in half an hour. Giving up, she fished her phone out of her purse to dial Mya’s number. As the phone rang, Paris heard her friend’s ringtone coming from somewhere behind her. Turning around, she saw Mya walking down the hall with two coffees in hand.

“Hey!” called Mya. She looked cheerful as she approached Paris. “Here,” she said, handing her a cup. “I thought you could use a mocha for the road.”

“Geez, I thought something had happened to you,” replied Paris.

“Nope, I’m all good. Sorry, I wasn’t in there.” She laughed. “You usually roll out of bed at the last minute, so I preemptively got us some coffees to make the transition smoother.” Then, smiling at her, she said, “You’re supposed to say, Thanks, Mya .”

Paris shook her head in agreement. “Thank you. I appreciate the thoughtful gesture. You know me too well.”

“For many years, Paris, for many years. Anyway, I think the car is already waiting out front. I’m sure your parents have left church and are on their way as well. We should get a move on.”

It took them the full thirty minutes to get to the restaurant, which was packed to capacity. Paris and Mya hurried to the booth her parents had acquired and took their seats opposite them.

“Good morning,” said Mikel, a smile creasing his mustached face. “How are things?”

“Great,” replied Mya.

“I concur,” said Paris. “I’m enjoying my new place. Mya and I sat out on the balcony around the fire and drank mojitos last night. It was wonderful. Thanks for all of the thought you put into it.”

“Sweetheart, you know we only want you to be happy,” replied her mother. “We’ve had a rough year, but despite all that’s happened, we’re still on your side.”

“Yes, darling, we’ll always be on your side,” added her father. “We love you.”

“I love you too,” replied Paris. “Since we’re being open, may I ask you how I’m doing or what you’d like to see improvements on?”

“Sure,” replied Nicola. “Personally, I feel you’re doing well, though I’ve noticed a little distance between you and Vic. Is everything okay there?”

“It’ll be fine. We’re working through something,” said Paris. “A minor disagreement, but I have every faith we’ll get through it.”

Mikel nodded solemnly. “Nothing wrong with that. It happens. I have to ask. Is this the why you requested your own place?”

Paris shook her head in response. “No. I need my space. It was more difficult living with him than I’d anticipated. We have some differences in how we want to keep our homes. We each have friends we want to invite over. It seemed like a good idea to go back to separate places.” Her father seemed satisfied with her answer. He didn’t push the issue any further.

The foursome ordered and ate their breakfast while chatting about the happenings in their daily lives. Paris felt, for once, like she had a complete family again, though there would always be a spot in her heart that felt empty without Alli. Having Mya back was like regaining a lost sister. The family agreed to plan more activities together for the future, beginning with regular Sunday brunches. Paris felt an unexpected relief at rekindling regular interactions with her parents.

Vic and Paris were seated in the boardroom, waiting for the others to arrive. Thinking back to the weekend, Vic had partaken in his usual fitness and family routine, except for Saturday night, he changed things up. Bored while sitting at home, he walked over to the wine bar in the ADG complex. He knew there would be live music, and he was tired of beer.

Vic barely got through the door when he noticed Angela sitting alone at a table, a glass of red wine in hand. Moseying over, he asked, “Are you alone?” He hoped she’d say yes.

Looking up, a smile spread across her supple lips. “Completely,” she replied. “I felt like listening to some music, so I wandered over to check this guy out,” she motioned toward the performer, who was singing and playing an acoustic guitar.

Vic had to admit, he sounded great. “Do you mind if I join you?”

“Feel free,” she said, motioning to the empty chair nearest him.

“Do you frequent this place?” he asked as he sat down. He wasted no time flagging down the server and ordering a glass of Syrah.

“Not really. Only when I’m dateless, feeling restless, and hard up for some live music.”

“Do you date a lot?”

“That depends on your definition of a lot. I have a healthy appetite for meeting new people and trying new things,” she replied. “What about you? I hear you like to date a lot.”

“What you said before is my exact response.” He gave her a lopsided grin. “By the way, you look nice.”

Angela shook her head, “I know.”

“It seems to me you have changed your wardrobe a bit as of late,” he commented. “Why would that be?”

“I have?” she responded, batting her eyelashes. “What’s different?”

Obviously, she was playing dumb. He was simply curious whether the change had to do with him.

Not responding fast enough, she asked again, “What’s different?”

“I can’t really say,” he deflected. “But you look great.” In reality, he knew it was the shorter, tighter skirts and the low-cut blouses along with the more prominent makeup, but he wouldn’t be the one to point those details out.

Leaning forward, she beckoned him to lean in closer, which he did as though he had no control or choice in the matter. He could now see down her shirt, and the view made his temperature rise.

“It’s the sexy clothing,” she whispered. “I thought you’d enjoy it.” Reaching out, she ran one manicured red nail lightly down his forearm, and he thought he might jump out of his skin. The woman was a flame, drawing him in. “Why don’t we go back to my place?” she proposed.

Tossing back his nearly full glass of wine, he got to his feet. Angela started to get up, but he put his hand out to stop her. Reaching into his pocket, he grabbed a twenty and threw it on the table. He knew the situation might mean trouble, and he had no intentions of getting burned. “Enjoy your evening. Unfortunately, I have a previous engagement, which I should get to. It was lovely to see you,” he said and turned to leave. Angela nodded in response and watched him walk away, stunned by the rejection.

Once outside, Vic paused to take a couple of deep breaths. Had he really rejected Angela Martini? What was wrong with him? Normally, he wouldn’t have thought twice about getting involved with someone like her. Releasing a deep sigh, he headed for home. A cold shower would take care of everything. He was tired, he told himself. Any other night, he would have taken her up on her offer, but tonight, he was too tired. In the back of his mind, he knew he wasn’t being completely honest with himself. There was a deeper reason for his change of heart.

Snapping back to the present moment, he noted that his father and Mikel had arrived. Their mothers, as well as Cristo, Mya, and Chase, would not be joining them on this occasion.

“We decided we would like to meet with you alone today,” said Dom. “This is now the eighth week of your performance improvement plan, which means there are only four weeks left after this. You have these last weeks to prove, beyond a doubt, that you want what’s best for ADG and to show us you’re able to act like adults.”

“Last week went well. We saw a glimpse of the old days in the work you performed. This week, as bonuses, you each are receiving a car of your choice, as well as $500 in fun money. In the next few weeks, we want to see you step up your game even further,” stated Mikel.

“Wow, that's wonderful,” replied Paris. “Thank you.” She could use some of the money to update her office if she wanted, which was a nice thought. The car wasn’t half bad either, though she preferred limo service to her own car.

“Yes, thank you,” agreed Vic. He loved having his own vehicle and couldn’t wait to get back in the driver’s seat.

“You’re welcome,” replied Dom. “Make us proud. Mya and Chase have instructions on the purchase of the cars.” Both men stood and exited the boardroom with no further comments. Paris looked at Vic.

“Is that it?” she questioned.

Vic shrugged his shoulders. “I guess so.”

“Great. I have to get to a meeting,” Paris replied, jumping up from her seat.

Before Paris could get away, Vic asked, “With who?”

“Tom. We need to go over my files.”

“I can’t believe you think this is normal. Why haven’t you asked anyone to confirm the workload you’re to be taking on?” he asked.

“Because I feel the board would have mentioned it if it was a problem,” she replied. “There’s nothing to look into, and it’s none of your business.” Turning away, she hastily left the room.

Vic wanted to pound his fist into the wall, but he refrained. Maddening. She was simply maddening. Getting up from his chair, he marched off down the hall toward the elevators. When he arrived, Paris was still waiting. He noted she had tears in her eyes.

“Don’t look at me!” she hissed.

“Fine,” he replied, “I’ll take the stairs.” His mind reeled. Screw it, he thought to himself. He had just the distraction needed to forget Paris and her idiocy.

Once he reached his office, he dialed Angela’s line. She picked up on the second ring.

“Thursday night, seven o’clock, come to my place for dinner and wine. Give me a chance to make up for bailing on you this past weekend,” he requested.

“Well, hello to you too,” she replied. “What makes you think you deserve another chance?”

“You and I both know you’ll be there,” he said, and hung up the phone. He was satisfied with himself. If Paris wanted to pretend nothing had happened between them, he would too.

In the meantime, he needed to focus. He had a huge client coming in on Friday, and there were a lot of details he needed to iron out beforehand. The event was a surprise fiftieth wedding anniversary for the client’s parents. He’d requested Vic specifically. The party would bring in one of the largest paydays of the year. He needed to locate and price out a horse-drawn carriage, pink peonies, a string quartet, and numerous other items on the list, which was so large they had broken the planning into two separate sessions. He’d start with the carriage and work his way up to the cake samples. Nothing he hadn’t done hundreds of times before. Unlike Paris, he was now dealing with a full load of clients. It was thrilling to be back in the game.

Tuesday, Vic and Paris took ownership of their new cars. Mya and Chase had taken care of all the details. Paris chose a dark blue Lexus, fully loaded with sunroof, and Vic chose a silver fully loaded convertible Camaro. They drove off the lots and continued to go their separate ways. Mya with Paris and Chase with Vic. Neither Paris nor Vic had spoken a word to one another since Monday morning.

Vic's meticulous party planning had finished by Thursday afternoon, with the help of Chase. He felt he had earned a reason to relax and celebrate. As he left work, he saw Paris headed in his direction, so he picked up his pace to stay ahead of her. Anytime he saw her coming, he’d veer off into an office, or a separate hallway, or take the stairs to avoid another heated moment. All he wanted to do was get home so he could begin working on the meal he planned to serve Angela.

He prepared a simple menu. Cheeseburgers on his grill, with homemade garlic French fries. If the girl didn’t like the food, she had no business being with him, was his motto. As an appetizer, he chose to serve bacon-wrapped goat cheese stuffed dates, which he’d heard were her favorite.

One of Vic’s many charms was his professional cooking skills. Had he not joined up with Sense of Adventure, he could have been head chef at any of the group's restaurants, something he often toyed with in the back of his mind, even more so as of late.

Sometimes he dreamt of achieving a Michelin star. He’d trained at Le Cordon Bleu with some of the best chefs in the world. Now, most evenings, when he arrived home, he didn’t feel like cooking. His love for cooking seemed to have died along with Brody until recently. His first inkling that the love was still alive was when the group had gone to the cabin, and he’d cooked most of their meals.

Angela arrived at seven, and Vic greeted her and showed her to the kitchen where he was removing the perfectly timed dates from the oven. He poured her a glass of pinot noir and said, “A toast to you showing up this evening.”

She laughed. “But I thought you knew I’d show?”

“I assumed, but you know how that can sometimes go.” He chuckled at his own comment.

They noshed on dates and sipped their wine while he cooked. She laughed at his jokes and complimented him in any way she could. She was an attentive guest who interacted well in the moment. He noted she was wearing the tightest, lowest-cut blue blouse he’d ever seen, along with a short flowing floral skirt and blue stilettos. She looked tastier than the food, but he pushed the thought aside for the time being.

After dinner, they retired with replenished wine glasses to the living room and took a seat on his couch. “The food was divine,” complimented Angela. “Why don’t you cook regularly? What made you take on the job at Sense of Adventure?”

“For many years, I thought I’d be a chef, but after shadowing my parents, I felt a new desire to join the family business. Vacation and party planning looked like fun, and it turned out I was right, even though I miss cooking at times.”

“I can see the enjoyment you experience when you cook. Would you ever go back?”

“I don’t know. Right now, no, but in the future, who can say?” Reaching out, he brushed her long blonde hair back and looked at her creamy alabaster skin. “You have beautiful eyes. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen eyes so blue-green before.”

“Thanks,” she replied. “You’re not so bad yourself. You should think about going back to cooking,” she prodded. Then, reaching up, she undid the top button of her blouse, exposing her flesh further and giving him a view of her bright pink bra. He sucked in his breath and held it for a moment. He couldn’t look away. As he watched, she undid yet another button and continued until her shirt hung open in front of him. He said nothing as he continued to gaze at her. Standing, she slid out of her skirt to reveal matching pink panties. Turning in a circle, she asked, “What do you think?”

Standing, he looked down at her and said, “I think tonight might be my lucky night.” Taking a step toward her, he ripped off his shirt.

Angela grinned. “I think you might be right,” she said, then reaching for him, she

unbuttoned his pants.

His passion for her grew with each touch. Pressing his lips to hers, he grabbed her hand,

leading her down the hall to his bedroom. Paris who? he thought as he closed the door behind them.

The following morning came with a jolt. Vic flew out of bed with the internal realization that something was not right. Angela was gone, his alarm turned off. It was eight-fifteen, and he was late meeting his client. His stomach soured at the realization. Had he turned the alarm off himself? He bolted to the bathroom to brush his teeth and splash water on his face, then returning to the bedroom, he threw on his best suit and rushed out of the apartment. As he was walking into Sense of Adventure, his phone rang.

“Where the hell are you?” demanded his father. “Why aren’t you here? This is important, Vic! And where’s Paris? I wanted to send her in, but she’s not here either.”

“I’m so sorry, pops, I don’t know what happened. Somehow, my alarm got turned off. I’m on my way.”

“Don’t bother!” he boomed. “I told the client you were ill and sent your mother in to deal with it.” Vic’s heart sank. He knew this incident would come back to bite him. Thinking better of going into the office while the client was still there, he went back to his building and marched over to Paris’s condo. He knocked, but there was no answer. Trying the door, he found it to be unlocked. Pushing it open, he instantly regretted his decision. Tom had Paris bent over the settee, giving it to her hard. Vic gaped at them.

Paris, realizing Vic was in the room, pushed Tom away and grabbed the nearest throw blanket to cover herself. “What are you doing? Get out!” she screamed. Vic backed himself out of the condo and slammed the door, stopping to lean against the wall while he forced himself to breathe. Before he could get away, Paris threw open the door and marched into the hallway.

“What are you doing? Why are you here, uninvited?”

“You’re one to talk! I seem to recall you slipping into my apartment to steal my date's very expensive shoes out of the room we were screwing in. That was on purpose. This was an accident. Two different things, I’d say!” Vic cringed. He didn’t want to rehash the situation with her. “I came over to tell you I screwed up, but we can discuss that later. I have to be somewhere,” he said in a more controlled voice. Paris stood there staring at him. “You should get back in there, and for God's sake, put some clothes on!”

“What do you mean you screwed up?” asked Paris.

Vic shook his head and walked away.

“What do you mean?” she asked again, but he didn’t answer. His words hurt more than Paris cared to admit. The knowledge that he’d seen her and Tom going at it, also hurt.

When she walked back into the condo, Tom was about to leave.

“Hey, it’s been fun. I have a client at nine. I need to go prepare. See you later,” he said and marched out the door. They’d been together all night, so obviously, he had to leave sometime. It wasn’t as if he’d come and gone. They’d partaken in several lovemaking sessions over the past twelve hours. He’d devoted a good deal of time to her. She needed to go to work as well, but she couldn’t get past the feeling that something was very wrong.

“Dr. Morgan, I screwed up bad this week,” said Vic. He was sitting in his therapist’s office, telling the story of waking up late and seeing Paris with Tom.

“Why did you go over to Paris’s condo in the first place?” asked Dr. Morgan.

“Honestly, I wanted to know why she wasn’t at work yet and I wanted to see if she’d run some recon for me and find out how the meeting went for my mother. I’m pretty sure I can suture up the damage I created with the client, but the situation with the board is a whole other story. This was definitely me dropping the ball. It's a pretty big mess.”

“Yes, indeed it is,” replied Dr. Morgan. “I’m happy to see you’ve owned up to your mistake. That’s progress.”

“Thanks. It doesn’t come easy for me.”

“One step at a time,” replied Dr. Morgan. “Tell me, Vic, how did it feel seeing Paris with Tom?”

“Horrible,” he admitted. “It felt like I was being stabbed in the back, and I’m not even sure why.”

“I’d encourage you to think about that some more. In order to mend the situation, you must first admit to yourself why you reacted in such a destructive way.”

“Can things get any worse?” asked Vic. “The board will probably punish us both, considering Paris wasn’t available to fill in.”

“That is possible,” said Dr. Morgan.

“The repercussions will be major; I fear.”

The Dr. nodded. “Of that, my friend, I have no doubt. The question is: how will you react?”