GRACE

 

 

His thoughts were plain as they flitted across his face. Could what he wanted to say be that bad?  I could see the sadness last, as though he were answering my thoughts.

“I moved to Italy to take care of my grandparents. They couldn’t live on their own anymore, and they wouldn’t move here. Wouldn’t hear of it. So I found a small villa for us, and a caregiver to live there.” Markus shook his head at the memories, but with fondness. “We needed someone in Europe anyway for expansion. As a company we were growing so fast, and since I didn’t have a family and I was needed anyway––well.”

He took a sip from his flute and watched the bubbles float to the surface for a moment, “Your father didn’t want to move either one of you to a new country. You were having a hard enough time with your mother being gone, so I went.”

This was a whole new view into this strong, intelligent man. The game apps were his idea. They still sold well twenty years later. There were new ones every year, new ideas to make a computer more efficient, as well as new laptops. Smaller. Better. Smarter.

He resumed his story, “So, I bought the villa and moved us there. They loved it, of course. Loved their caregiver. I also had a housekeeper and maid that would help out when I had to travel, which wasn’t often.  About four or five times a year, depending upon what new idea I had to try out or promote to others. I would have their friends visit about once a month, or every two months, and sometimes they would come with me on my travels, along with the caregiver.  Paris, Milan, London––they loved it the first five years,” he had a sad, private smile on his lips at the memories.

It made me love him a bit with how much he had loved and cared for his grandparents.  And here I thought he was being a playboy. Sometimes there would be photographs of him with models at the theatre or dinner. Those must have been the times he didn’t take them with. He was a man after all, with a man’s urges. Though, I was still jealous of the time he had with those women while I was growing up.

Just then, our waiter arrived with our meals. I had a lobster salad with crab bisque, and Markus had a huge steak with lobster, baked potato and vegetables.

Knowing I wasn’t the type to go without my desserts, I didn’t want to fill up on my meal. After all, La Maison had the best desserts. Their crème brulee…oh my God…heaven for my mouth. The crust was so crispy and the insides…absolute perfection.

“You do realize, you’re not going to get away with not finishing your story,” I told him before taking a bite of my meal, complete with a piece of buttery lobster. I groaned at the taste.

I took another bite and glanced at Markus, to see him staring at me with a strange smile on his face.

“What?” I took another bite and stuffed it into my mouth, eyeing my soup. I cocked my head in inquiry, never having been able to do the eyebrow raise thingy.

He shook his head at me and took a bite from his rare steak. It was so bloody I thought it was going to jump up and run away.

As we ate, we became more comfortable with one another.  That was, until I heard a loud, familiar voice.  Shit was about to hit the fan after all.

“What are you doing here with my daughter?  I thought we discussed this––stay away from her. You’re too old for her.” Of course my father was pushy, loud, obnoxious and drunk already, but he was still my father and I loved him. Kinda.

“Dad––we’re having dinner. Finding out what we’ve each been doing over the years. We can still be friends, right? He’s also a business associate, whom we haven’t seen in years. You’re the one that should be taking him out for drinks––and dinner, but I’m doing it, so leave us the heck alone to enjoy our dinner in peace.” I spit out the last few words at him, completely pissed and annoyed. “And aren’t you supposed to be in Japan?”

My father stood, his hands fisted as if he wanted to hit someone. I could tell he was going to ignore my question. Markus sat eating his dinner at ease, not worried about what my dad would do or say. But watching nonetheless. Just in case.

That was when I saw my little sister in the background and almost groaned. I would have liked to bang my head on the table a couple times, but that wouldn’t have looked appropriate. She had our father wrapped around her little finger, and she was the little slut.  Yet, he felt the need to tell me who to see and not see.

Only eighteen, and she had already been with so many boys, and men, I couldn’t even count. Not that I wanted too. Yuck.

Besides, she was a troublemaker, Talia was beyond beautiful––slender, long, multi-colored hair in shades of pink with aqua at the ends, and the biggest sky-blue eyes you’ve ever seen. Seemingly guileless; she was delicate looking, but harder than rocks. And I’m sure her new do pissed our father off. Which I’m sure was the idea.

She gave any man a run for his money––even at eighteen.

I could see a smirk appearing on her perfect, pink, plump lips as she winked at me. I was shocked. How could she know?

My eyes returned back to dad and challenged him to say anything more, when suddenly Markus spoke. 

“Paul? Would you like to join us––you and Talia?” Markus’ eyes appraised and then dismissed her. Talia and I were both shocked. I don’t think there has ever been a man that was uninterested in my sister before.

“No, no––enjoy the rest of your dinner. It’s on me. Business dinner, right? Great write off. We need all we can get, right Markus?” Paul laughed heartily, the sound booming from his chest, not quite pulling being genuine off. I knew my dad, and one thing I was certain of, was that this was a show. He was embarrassed he had let his emotions take over in public.

“Right, Paul.” Markus’ laugh was just as forced. He waved his fork around with a large piece of lobster on it before stuffing it in his mouth. If my bottom jaw could have dropped it would have––but that’s not lady-like.

Dad boomed a laugh again, so everyone that was watching the action could see. This will be the talk of the town for a while. I groaned at the thought. My father was always good for the gossipmongers since he had a temper.

I watched as my father and sister turned on their heels, and went back over to their table to finish their meal––watching us the whole time.

“Well that was awkward. You weren’t a lot of help.” I was irritated that I had to do all the calming down of my father.

“Didn’t you notice the way he was looking at me? He was waiting for me to say something. Anything at all would have set him off.” Markus leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed behind his head. The way his shirt stretched across his chest made my mouth water—much differently than the thought of dessert.

I thought about what he said and went over the way my father had acted. Yes, he had been aggressive, but it had almost been an act. Blustering, but backing down fast. Was the drunkenness fake as well? No, that was probably true. But now that I think about it, he had been watching Markus, waiting for him to say or do something that he could take offense to.

“Come on, finish your soup before it gets cold. Or I will.” Markus tried to cajole me into eating, while eyeing my untouched soup. Using his finger he inched it closer.

I wasn’t in the mood for anymore––except for dessert. Chocolate suddenly sounded better now. Hmm. They have a dark chocolate crème brulee here, I thought to myself. My mouth began watering at the thought of the creamy goodness.

“You go ahead and have my soup, I’d rather have dessert.” I wished I could have eaten the soup, but dessert sounded better.

Markus immediately raised his hand for the waiter, and gave me the inquiring raised eyebrow I always wanted to be able to do.

“Dark chocolate crème brulee,” I replied. 

His eyes widened at the thought.

“They make it superbly here. You should try it. The chocolate custard inside is amazing.” I was always so enthusiastic about all types of dessert.

The waiter arrived and Markus put in the order for two chocolate crème brulees.

“Since you’re not hungry, why don’t we take the dessert back to the hotel and start the best part of the evening,” he suggested, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. Red color highlighted my cheeks. “Especially since dinner has been paid for.”  Motioning for the waiter, he ordered, “Another bottle of champagne––to go.”

It was clear that we were both finally starting to let go.

There was a whole flock of butterflies taking up residence in my stomach, and in that moment, I was glad I hadn’t eaten more than I had.

When we got the car back, Markus placed one hand on my chin and one on my back, bringing my face and body to his. Kissing me hard, he bit at my bottom lip. A groan escaped my lips as a hand settled at my breast, a finger pinching my nipple.

A throat clearing interrupted us, and looking from the valet to me, Markus smirked, causing me to blush again.

Once inside the Jag, we began making our way back to Markus’ hotel.  What shocked me most was that the Jag had swiftly traversed the streets earlier, but seemed to be taking its time to get to the hotel where Markus was staying.

Once we arrived, he parked his car in the first spot available, which happened to be right by the elevators. Turning toward me he asked, “Well––are you ready for the sex part of the evening?”  The smirk on his face let me know that we were just getting started.