Chapter 30
Raphael
Eva is fast asleep, moonlight pouring into the window and making her look ethereal. I’m sitting in a chair across from the bed, staring out into the darkness. I can’t sleep. There’s too much going on in my head.
The events at the community center this evening really got to me. I don’t know why. It wasn’t just seeing those little old ladies fall in love with their hand-crafted jewelry. It wasn’t just falling captive to the gorgeous smile on Eva's face as she helped them. It was something within me, too. Some hidden part of me came alive while I was there and as much as I'd like to push it down, I can't.
When I saw that old man propose to his girlfriend, it reignited something in me. I guess that I've unconsciously been walking around with the belief that my chance had past. I'd had my turn at love and I'd fucked it up by choosing the wrong woman. So I'd thrown myself into work, allowing myself the occasional illicit encounter while holding firm to the belief that I didn't need anything more. But seeing that senior couple madly in love with each other renewed that pesky thought that maybe I could have something real this time. With Eva.
Jeez. My head is all fucked up. I need to get my shit together.
Here, I am hiding out in this middle of nowhere town, screwing my best friend's daughter behind his back, not giving a shit about my business back in New York.
Evangeline Brooks, you've really worked your magic on me. I'm so far removed from reality and the scary part is that I don't care. As long as I can hide out in this little cocoon we've built, I don't care if the rest of the world is burning down around us.
I shake my head. I need a distraction. Getting up quietly, I grab my phone. Dodging around the half-packed boxes littered all around Eva’s condo, I make my way into the kitchen. The surly cat throws me a hateful stare as I walk by, but turns away without incident. Did he just roll his eyes at me? I shake my head and laugh under my breath as I make myself a quick sandwich. Grabbing a bottle of sparkling water and a chair, I sit at the table and dial Humphries's number.
He answers after an eternity. "Hey Boss," he says, sounding groggy.
Stretching out my legs under the table, I uncap the water bottle. "You in the middle of anything?" I ask.
Humphries chuckles shortly. "Uh, sleep."
I glance over at the time on the stove. Shit. It's 2 in the morning over here, which makes it 3:00 a.m. in New York. "Didn't think that you need sleep," I say dryly, then take a bite of my sandwich. "I think I just lost all respect for you."
He chuffs. "Staying this pretty requires beauty sleep. In between dominating the boardroom all day and dominating these babes all night, I take catnaps where I can get 'em."
I hear a deep, groggy male voice in the background. "Chuck, shut the fuck up. I have work in the morning so either get off the phone and come back to bed or go into the other room. And get your hairy ass off of my white chaise de chambre."
I furrow a brow and laugh low on my breath as Humphries clamps his hand over the mouthpiece. I hear muffled voices arguing in the background.
A few moments later, he returns, speaking much lower and less arrogantly now. "Sorry, boss. Met this Amazon chick at a bar tonight,” he justifies quickly, “She has a sore throat. Makes her voice all weird and deep."
"No need to explain," I mutter. My employees’ sexual preferences don't bother me as long as it doesn't affect their work.
"Anyway, I assume that you're calling for an update on the business?" he says, eager to change the subject.
"Uh, sure." I'm not calling you at this hour to pour my heart out like a little bitch…I swear I'm not.
"Well, everything's on track. The KromeTech money is finally out of escrow. And I had a meeting with the bankruptcy trustee in the Jerjavec file and he assured me that our assets would be returned in full,” he says expertly. “Plus, I finally convinced that hippie dude in HR to start wearing deodorant. So, I'd say that everything is going well."
I whistle under my breath. "You convinced that guy to wear deodorant? I'm giving you a raise when I get back." He deserves it. I estimate that our air freshener costs will decrease by at least 15% because of this.
"Just doing my job, Boss," he says proudly. There’s a short lull. “I know we shouldn’t talk about this but I’m just dying to know – how are things working out with your little sex slave? Are you getting a good return on investment, if you know what I mean?”
Man – if I was standing next to him, I’d punch him straight in the throat right now.
I growl into the receiver. “I should fire you right this minute but I think I’m going to need to break your nose first.” Nobody talks about Eva that way. Nobody.
“Sorry,” he spits out quickly, “didn’t mean to be disrespectful. Just wanted to know how things are going.”
“Well, things are going well,” I bark defensively. I didn’t call to have this guy piss me off at this hour of the night.
There’s a loaded silence that stretches out way too long.
“Just make sure to cover yourself, legally,” he advises. “If this gets out in the press, you’re done. In every sense of the word.”
I shove my fingers roughly through my hair as I contemplate all the ways my life will combust if this thing goes public. “I’ve got Daniel Trotten on it. You told me he’s the best lawyer for the job. He quietly got a restraining order against the bastard and he set me up with a private investigator who’s devoting all of his attention to monitoring the asshole in question to make sure he doesn’t get anywhere near the girl.”
“Well, that’s all you can do at this point, I guess,” Humphries says with a heavy exhale. Then, his tone changes ever-so-slightly. “That girl really means something to you, doesn’t she?”
“Why would you say that?” I haven’t told Humphries much about Eva. All he knows is that I haven’t let her out of my sight since the auction.
He laughs solemnly. “You’ve been away for nearly three weeks now. You rarely call to check in on the business. It’s practically impossible to reach you via email and I don’t even bother to call anymore because it always goes to voicemail. This so isn’t like you. You never put anything over work. Even the swine flu of 2009 couldn’t keep you away from the office for more than 72 hours. You were slugging it through the halls with your zombie complexion and your hollow eyes, not giving a damn that half the office would dash under their desks for cover every time it looked like you were about to sneeze!”
“Shut the fuck up!” I grunt with a laugh because I know he’s right. He laughs, too.
“What I’m saying is that it’s good to know that you’re alive again after the ‘recession’ you’ve been going through over the past few years.”
“Recession?” I laugh. “Is that a euphemism for ‘sex drought’?”
He laughs, too. “Just speaking your language, sir. It’s hard finding someone to love in this big, cold world. Consider yourself lucky.”
That thick male voice purrs in the background again. “Baby, the bed is getting cold.”
Humphries doesn’t cover the speaker this time. In fact, I almost hear a smile in his voice when he says, “I’ll be right there, babe.” His attention returns to me. “I’m just glad to see that you’ve found someone special. Because that changes everything. And you deserve it, Mr. Silver.”
I deserve it? Do I really deserve Evangeline Brooks?
For a fraction of a second, I give myself permission to imagine what it would be like to take our relationship out in the open, to have her parents happy for us, accepting of us. The thought brings a wide smile to my face.
We'd be good together, she and I. In the long haul. I'm starting to realize that her love is worth more than anything I'd lose by announcing our relationship to the world.
“Good night, Humphries.”
“Good night, Mr. Silver.”
The phone goes dead.