Hold Me by W. Winters
Ella
“Awash and wave?” Kam comments. “And I like the all white,” he adds before I can respond. His four fingers do a half wave as he gestures toward my hands.
“The manicurist suggested it.” I peek down at my nails as the waiter arrives with a tall skinny glass of unsweetened tea. “Thank you,” I manage to get out in time for him to give a smile and nod.
The Fooleries has been remodeled since we were last here. Seated on the outside balcony, there’s a heat lamp already blazing in each of the corners. The balcony only has three small circular iron tables, fitted with a robin’s-egg-blue tablecloth. Everything else is white. The menus, napkins and single candle burning in the center of each table.
“You really like the white?” I question before popping one of the almonds from a small bowl of mixed nuts that was on the table into my mouth. Kam loves the walnuts, so I leave all of those pieces for him.
“Very in. Very chic … Angels and virgins wear white, but I’ve always thought it looks just as good on the sinful.”
Kam’s comment gets a laugh from me. “I wasn’t sure at first,” I say and shrug, lifting the glass up, “but I like it.” The last bit comes out raspy and my fingers press against my throat before I sip the cold beverage.
When I set the glass down and peer back at Kam, his expression is riddled with concern. “How are you feeling?”
An anxiousness sweeps through my body at the realization that the pain I felt was a reminder of what Zander did to me last night. More specifically, my cries and moans for him to fuck me harder, but for Kam, it’s a reminder of something entirely different.
“Fine,” I answer easily, reaching for the cloth napkin and laying it across my lap.
“Well, you look beautiful. You look—” His words falter and I’m not sure what he planned to say, but what comes out after an exhale is only a reiteration of his first statement. “Just beautiful.”
“It was Zander’s suggestion,” I confide in him in an attempt to usher the conversation away from wherever Kam’s carefully navigating. I know my throat, my voice even, has to be a reminder of what I did while at the center. “He said I should get my hair and nails done today. This morning he handed me a credit card, then told me he made appointments and that Silas would be driving me, so I should get my ass ready to go and be pampered.” I add for good measure, “And if I wasn’t ready on time, he’d spank me.”
Kam’s movements stop midway as he was picking up his napkin and the silverware clangs on the table. I can’t help but laugh.
“Well I’m glad one of us is smiling,” he chides.
“Oh please,” I admonish him in return, a genuine smile pulling up my spirits. “Since when did you become such a prude?”
Humor lights his eyes. He even smiles as he rearranges the cutlery and places the napkin across his lap as I have. “He’s controlling.”
“Like James was,” I reply without considering what I was saying until the comparison left me. Another wave of that anxiousness comes over me, but it quickly vanishes.
“And I told you to dump his ass too.” There’s a fondness, a nostalgia in Kam’s comment.
“I remember that,” I say and my smile falters only slightly. The rawness in my throat comes back but this time it carries a prick to the back of my eyes as well.
“I mean, obviously I was wrong about that one,” Kam says offhandedly and I realize we’re speaking about him. Talking about James in the past tense. I don’t have long to dwell on the thought. “He went from a good time,” Kam adds, lowering his voice at the insinuation, “to taking all your time.”
I can’t help but smile, even if there’s a painful longing in my chest. “He took his time, though.” I roll my eyes at the thought and resort to picking up my iced tea once again. It’s tart, making my lips pucker after a sip before I reach for the sugar.
“What was it? It took him what, a year?” he asks me, and it’s easy. It turns easy, thinking about how we came to fall in love. How he went from a man I wanted and enjoyed the occasional fling with, to a man who only wanted me and who I couldn’t imagine living my life without.
“Every third Saturday for …” I trail off, peeking up past the heat lamp and spot a small blue jay on the roof. “Maybe four months it was just that one night?”
“At Monet’s, right?” I nod in response, the memories filtering back to me. It was a good time. That’s all he was. We ran in the same circles. Knew the same people. One night, after I’d been avoiding him, teasing him, leading him on … we hit it off and had a romp in the sheets. It was a fling, a damn good fling. I thought it would only be that one night, but the next month, at the same gathering, he made it known in no uncertain terms that I’d be with him again that night.
“And then it was house calls and almost nine months later is when he got in that fight with Taylor.”
Kam’s brow raises and he lifts his coffee mug and then says, “Oh yes, and that would be the moment I told you to dump his ass.”
Biting down on my lip I remember that entire ordeal as Kam continues, “He couldn’t call you his girlfriend, but he could start some shit with Taylor.” Taylor’s no one really. He’s the son of a hotshot, who’s hot as fuck himself. He got through life on good looks. He’s nice enough, but he wasn’t looking for anything more than a good time. Which was fine, ’cause that’s what I was after too. I figured James only wanted me the once, or else he would have called. He would have reached out. So I made my move for Taylor and that’s when James intervened.
With a one-shoulder shrug I remind him, “I might have been the one to start it … technically.”
Kam’s laugh is as genuine as it is enthusiastic. “That’s right,” he says and his smile is contagious. “Now I remember that reporter with the press article that we had to pay off.”
I hum at the memory. “The truth was much better than fiction.” As the waiter brings the avocado caprese salad, which looks divine drizzled with a thick balsamic vinegar, I lean back in the chair to give him room.
“The truth always is better than fiction,” Kam comments and then smiles up at the waiter to thank him. I don’t miss how the waiter gives Kam a longer glance than he gave me.
Speaking of hot men, I think as I watch the tall young man, he’s got to be no older than midtwenties. In other words, way too young for Kam. And it’s quite obvious he’s interested in Kam.
“Flirt,” I speak beneath my breath and smirk at Kam the moment the waiter has left us.
Kam has the audacity to deny it as the blush reaches his cheeks. He’s freshly shaven so it can’t hide behind stubble.
My fork spears through the ripe tomatoes and I let Kam pretend that I’ve forgotten. The bird I saw a moment ago flutters in a way that steals my gaze. He’s a vibrant blue, perched on the edge and more than likely waiting for scraps.
“So,” Kam gets my attention before asking, “is Zander your boyfriend then?” He raises a single brow in question.
With a thump in my chest, I don’t know how to answer him so I retreat to draining the rest of my tea. Twirling the straw forces the ice to clink against the glass. After an awkward moment, I ask him, “I thought we were going to discuss selling my properties … and you know? Moving on.” I hate the term. I’ll never move on. Damon says you move through it, and there’s a piece that’s always there. I prefer that.
His expression drops as he nods, his tone more serious. “It’s not the best time to sell, so we could wait, and sell when the market’s better. Or if you’d rather just be done with it, we’ll still get a good deal, just maybe not a great one. Either way, whatever you feel comfortable with, we can maneuver.”
Whatever I feel comfortable with.His words repeat in my head as the memories filter back. I can’t stop them. Just thinking of our home together, of the furniture, the majority of it his, I can barely keep myself composed when I remember how we broke in the dark gray Old English-style sofa of our first place together. So many firsts happened in that house.
“Let’s sell them.” I push the words out. “The main home and the two vacation properties down south.”
“And the belongings?” Kam’s question is gentle and I nod in response, picking up my drink to find it empty. I shake the glass, rattling the ice and with the straw I drain the tiniest bit of tea until there’s nothing left.
“And what about where you’re currently staying?” he asks cautiously. “The lodge?”
“We can keep it,” I answer him. “We were barely there together.” Fuck. It’s not like ripping off a Band-Aid at all. Not when the wound is still raw and bleeding.
“And the west wing?”
His answering question hangs in the air between us.
“What of it?” I say in a whisper. I don’t want it mentioned.
“We still have it closed off …”
When all I have is silence, he offers, “Maybe we redecorate it?”
I focus on pushing around the remainder of the food on my plate. Staring at the crumbs and remembering how that’s what hurt the most. Laying in a bed we shared, and waking up alone.
“Did Zander suggest anything else?”
“What?”
He gestures toward me, his tone relaxed and casual. As if he could disguise the fact that he’s attempting to change the subject since the current one has turned heavy. “Hair and nails. Does he want you to go to the spa too? Maybe to a lingerie boutique?”
Although his tone is humorous, my response is flat. “He wants me to create a new normal that would make me happy.” I force a smile, remembering how we went through the checklist two days ago. He sat with me while I made the necessary arrangements and Silas accompanied me to them, acting more as a chauffeur than anything else.
“A new normal?” Kam’s back straightens, his reaction not at all contained.
“We made a list,” I say after taking a deep breath in and leaning back in the chair. My appetite has vanished.
“A list of what you want your normalcy to be?” Kam questions and I nod. He nods along with me. “So what else is there, other than nails and hair?”
Chewing the inside of my cheek, I keep myself from reaching into my purse to take out the list and instead tell Kam only the ones he needs to know.
“Things like, make my bed in the morning and practice yoga before noon like I used to.” I’m quick to add, “I have daily affirmations.”
“What affirmations?” Kam asks, and judging by his expression, I know he’s still wary of Zander. I get it. I do.
“I will allow myself to feel grief and then let it go,” I tell him after inhaling slowly and Kam’s eyes widen slightly. “Damon approved it.”
Kam nods as he looks away, obviously uncomfortable but he says, “There was an affirmation I was using a bit ago.”
“Really?”
He meets my gaze to tell me, “When Gerald broke up with me.” His expression sobers. They were engaged and I still don’t know what happened; all I know is that I wasn’t around when they broke up. I was at the center.
Sucking in a breath, he tells me, “I give myself permission to do what is right for me.” He swallows thickly.
“I like that one. I really do.”
He pouts at my smile, a goofy expression on his face. “You should add that to your list.”
“I think I will.”
“Yoga, affirmations, anything else he wants in your new normal?” He returns to picking away at his chicken caesar wrap.
Shaking my head, I don’t tell him the hair and nails, and even my chosen outfit for the day, is all Zander’s choosing. My grooming and appearance are to please him. It’s a requirement for every day.
Along with accepting a list every day of what I should accomplish while he’s gone. He’s busy arranging everything in his new place nearby. I haven’t seen it yet, but he said once he has everything in order, since things have gotten chaotic with his leave from The Firm, then I can come see and maybe stay if Cade will allow it.
Kam asks in a humorous tone, “What about daily blow jobs?”
His last question is spoken at the same moment the waiter returns to refill my tea. I can’t help the grin that slips across my face at the sight of Kam’s embarrassment.
The waiter remains professional, although he’s obviously heard and has a hard time keeping a smile from creeping onto his face that would match mine. “Anything else I can get you?”
Kam asks for the check and I’m grateful he seems to forget about the list after the young man leaves.
“Speaking of blow jobs,” I murmur and prod him. “Anything new in your dating world?”
My playfulness falls flat. Kam’s lips are pressed in a thin line. “Gerald wants to get back together. He called a couple of nights ago and again last night.”
I’m surprised by how happy his admission makes me. “You two were so good together.”
Again the optimism does nothing but faceplant on the table.
“When you were away … he didn’t do things he should have. Not like I needed him to.”
My throat dries and once again, I’m left with an anxiousness that comes with those memories.
“Enough of that,” he says matter-of-factly. “To a new normal,” Kam offers in cheers, his tone a little more upbeat. It only takes me a moment to force a smile and my glass of water, since the tea is empty, meets his.
“To a new normal.”
And so that’show time passes, checking off a list daily, letting Zander fuck me into contentedness and pretending this new normal feels right and not like I’m counting the days until something inevitably goes wrong, very, very wrong and entirely out of my control.
