Chapter 29
Colin's jeep speeds down the road. He cuts through the traffic easily and navigates between the streets outside the city center.
"Be indifferent," he tries to reassure me in a calm voice, as if it were the lightest thing in the world and not the impossible task he has imposed on me. "We buy all the goods, not part of it, not half."
"You buy the goods," I emphasize.
"You buy the goods." He looks up at me and raises an eyebrow. "Bryson is expecting Danielle, he's used to dealing with her, you have to be just as tough."
"I'm not tough." Who is he kidding? I'm used to selling coffee tables to people in Mr. Blunt's shop. I can't remember when I last bargained.
"You have to be indifferent. He will try to show you the goods and convince you that they are excellent—don’t let him. He doesn't know you, and that's an advantage, pretend you've done it a thousand times before."
"You have to tell me exactly what to do," I beg for a little bit of information to help me through the next hour.
"Don't pay more than twenty thousand." His words raise my pulse to a dangerous level. Twenty thousand dollars? Does he really expect me to deal with such amounts? It's not normal!
"Colin," I protest loudly, but he turns sharply to the right and brakes the car with a screech.
"We're here." He turns off the engine and loosens my seat belt.
"You didn't explain a thing!" My legs are shaking.
"No more than twenty thousand." He stares at me hard, which makes me shrink. I'm going to screw it up. If I don't get a grip in the next thirty seconds the deal is lost.
"Remember, you promised not to blame me." I turn a threatening finger at him.
"Go buy me some goods." He leans forward and, with a fluttering kiss, strokes my lips.
"You will owe me big time." I let out air demonstratively as I open the car door in front of the monstrous warehouse.
"I'll make it up to you. When you're ready." He blurs my thoughts for a few more moments. I slam the car door behind me so I won't hear another word come out of his mouth and remind myself to be indifferent. Bryson is expecting Danielle, and I'm not her. I'd better find within myself the bravery and arrogance of a blonde woman and prove to her, and the guy sitting in the car, that I can do it without heels and red nail polish.
"May I help you?" The big black haired man stands wide-eyed as I walk in the doorway. He moves toward me, scanning me from head to toe.
"Colin sent me," I reply in a sure tone, keeping eye contact and not letting my eyes wander to the vast amount of furniture packed in plastic sheets in every corner.
"Nice to meet you. I’m Bryson." He holds out his hand to me. "Danielle is busy?"
"Disappointed?" I shake his hand confidently.
"Not at all."
I'm sure he's disappointed that he didn't get another glimpse of the blonde's assets. I let go of his hand, walk past him with my back straight, sit on the first chair I find, cross legs, and put my hands around my knees.
I have to breathe and soothe my trembling legs, which makes it hard for me to stand. Colin believes in me, and I don't want to disappoint him. I want the goods to come into his hands, especially when I know how much profit he can make on them.
"Don't you want to look around?" Bryson purses his brows.
"There's no need," I shrug. Even if I look I won't know what I’m looking at and what the furniture is really worth.
"Really?" his dark eyes narrow.
"I know what I want and I won't pay more than ten thousand." Perhaps it was not the wisest thing to say? Damn you, Colin, what is the right thing? How am I supposed to look indifferent with my heart fluttering like this?
"Let's go around for a bit." Bryson makes another attempt to get me up from the chair, but I refuse to budge.
"I told you," I lean back, "the goods don't interest me. If Colin wants them, Colin will get them, and I won't pay more than ten thousand. Do we have a deal?"
The man in front of me shifts weight from one foot to another. My impatience seems contagious.
"Listen, ma'am," he starts to say, but I cut him off.
"Elizabeth Heart, but don't let my name fool you—I don't have a heart. What I have is money, do you want it?" I tilt my head at the guy, who looks like he doesn't understand where the hell I came from.
"I don't do business like that," he shakes his head and waves his hand, but I don't move.
"How long do you have to vacate the place, two days?"
"I'm calling Colin." He takes the phone out of his pocket as if threatening to call my boss and complain about me.
"Call him," I gesture to his cell, "and tell him I said the goods smell bad. How fast do you think the word will spread and no one else will want it?"
"This furniture is new!" He holds the phone, but doesn't dial. "They're still in nylon."
"And I don't think they smell good." I'm talking nonsense, but I really don't know what to say.
"I want twenty-five thousand dollars," he doesn't shift his belligerent stance, "and don't tell me they're not worth it."
"They're not worth it," I wave dismissively. "Maybe you'll find another sucker."
"Your boss will hear from me," he clenches his fists.
"Yeah, yeah, he'll hear from you. Ten thousand dollars or I'm leaving. Did you hear that Blunt closed his furniture store?"
"I don't know him," Bryson replies with a little more curiosity.
"He had a place in the shopping center. I'm on my way to his warehouse. Do you think you're the only one with goods in town?"
The ease with which I lie makes me angry. I do it just to close the deal, but I hate it to the core.
"How much does he want for it?" Bryson can't resist.
"You don't expect me to tell you?" I laugh, a smile full of arrogance spreading over my face. Maybe it's going better than I thought. Maybe Colin knew it wouldn't be hard, and Bryson would agree to the amount he wanted to pay.
"Twenty-three thousand," he says, dropping the price without preparation, throwing his number into the air. Here it comes.
"Twelve." I stand up, straighten my back, and hold out my hand to shake his.
"Twenty one." He makes another attempt.
"Fifteen."
"Twenty thousand, and that's my last number, Miss 'I don't have a heart'." He reaches out.
"Colin will kill me," I lie again, "I don't have permission to give more than eighteen."
"Nineteen thousand," he squeezes out his offer once more.
"Eighteen, Bryson, and that's more than the merchandise is worth." I wait for his handshake.
"I really hope that next time he sends Danielle," Bryson grumbles, and then shakes my hand hard. "Eighteen thousand, make sure your boss comes by and brings the money."
"I'll tell him." I pull my hand back. "He'll send the trucks."
I have no idea where Colin is going to store all this furniture, and right now I don't care. I just want to get out of here and get rid of the terrible nausea that is climbing up my stomach.
"Have a good day." I nod my head at the man, who seems more satisfied than I expected him to be. I turn away from him and hurry away, stepping out the door and walking toward the bruised guy who's leaning against his jeep and staring at me with curious eyes. Ignoring his existence, I walk past him and over to the other side of the car.
"Elizabeth," he calls as he pushes his body off the jeep, as if trying to stop me.
"I bought the goods," I reply nervously. "It cost you eighteen thousand dollars."
"Elizabeth, stop!" He grabs my arm just before I can open the door. I turn sharply and stare at him witheringly, but he doesn't let go of my arm.
"Don't do it again," I snarl angrily. "Don't ask me to lie for you, I don't care if I can bargain, it's not me. God, I hate myself right now."
"You didn't take food from a starving child," he rolls his eyes, as if I'm making a fuss over nothing. "You successfully negotiated, Bryson is not poor."
"It doesn't matter." I don't care about Bryson, I care about me. I don't like to pretend and play the game. "I'm glad you're doing well, really, and if Danielle likes it, I'm happy for her too, but I don't. My body aches, my muscles ache, that's not what I want to do in my life."
His fingers climb up my arm and when he takes a step, my back presses against the car door, his chest pressing into mine, and I have to raise my head to meet his face.
"Do you know what I want to do in my life?" He leans over, his words becoming a stirring whisper as his lips travel from my ears and along my jaw. "I want to kiss you all the time. I want to move my hands over your body. I don't care who's looking, I don't care what others have to say." He lets his hands do just that, walking them from my collarbone to my throat, my nape, into my hair. "I want to kiss you." His body becomes aroused and the bulge in his pants grows. I thank God we're standing in the middle of the street and not alone in his house, because I wouldn't be able to resist him otherwise. I would do anything to feel him move inside me. "I want to feel your heart go wild and know that I'm the reason. I want to know that I've survived everything to be able to return to you, that not all was in vain."
"Colin . . ." I close my eyes and sigh, pleading him to place his lips somewhere. It doesn't matter where, whether to the hollow of my neck or my earlobe. I just want them to find a place on my skin that is burning with anticipation.
"The war," his lips seem to hear my prayer, fluttering on my jaw not far from my lips, "the blood…you make me forget all the shit. I love you so much, Elizabeth, so much . . . I will never ask you to do it again…"
"I love you," I whisper.
"You're my family." He gently pulls my lower lip between his teeth, which begins to vibrate. His words bring tears to my eyes and close on my heart with a powerful pain that I can't remove, and as if to tease me the tears come and wash my cheeks. I bury my face in his chest and let them wet his shirt.
"Why are you crying?" Colin whispers.
Somehow I find the strength and I manage to answer, "I came to terms with the fact that you were not coming back and that I'd be left alone to raise Viv. It was all right, but now . . ." Everything has changed, everything is new and confusing, and my feelings are racing through my body, making me cry uncontrollably. "You're here, and I'm not alone. My dream came true, but I can't fulfill your dream, I can't give you the big family we always talked about, and it's killing me."
"You and our daughter are all I need." His arms hug my shoulders tight and I feel his heart racing through his chest.
"You say that now, but in a few months, in a few years . . ." I want to scream, curse God for the inconceivable price I paid. "I had time to accept the situation, but you . . ."
"I just got back," he kisses my head, "and I got my family back. We're just getting started, just getting to know each other again, trusting. You don't have to think about it, we have time."
"In the end you'll wake up and want more, but I can't have more children. It will be the end of us."
"Why are you doing this?" He sighs, his voice full of pain. "Elizabeth, we're just getting started."
"I know where it's leading!" I cry out. "I can see the end in front of my eyes."
"Because you lost your uterus? You're not supposed to be dealing with that now."
"But I am." I raise my red and teary eyes to look into his tormented gaze. "I'm dealing with it, thinking about it. Even though you've just come back, I'm thinking about it, because I'm afraid you'll have a reason to leave again."
He presses against my body, pushing my back to the car door, and puts his hands in my hair and pulls it back. The look in his eyes turns from sordid to full with lust, and he doesn't bother hiding it.
"You talk nonsense, but I forgive you," he wiggles his thumb at my lip. "I'm not going anywhere. I'll propose to you again and again until you say yes. I'll stand in the church all night if that's what I have to do to make you realize I'm not running away anymore."
"My ovaries are still—" I continue.
"We're not talking about it now." He doesn't seem to understand what I meant. "Slow down, love."
"We can . . ." I insist on talking about the future, even though our present isn't clear.
"We can what?" He lowers his head slowly and finds my salty lips. He gathers my tears on his tongue and sends shivers down my spine. "I have everything I need right here. I could have come home in a coffin but I didn’t. I just want you to forgive me, I just want to be a father to my daughter. Let me be her father. My dream came true. I don't need anything more."
"I'm just saying," I sigh and try to cling to him again, to stick to him until nothing can separate us.
"Lizzie," he whispers my name in a rough voice, "I'm not leaving again, and if in a few years we want more kids, I'm sure there are quite a few kids who need a home and we can give them one. But slow down, you’re pushing me away for all the wrong reasons. "
"I love you," my lips grope for his, "I want you to be happy."
"I'm in the clouds, darlin’." He laughs quietly, as if his laughter can remove the cloud of worry hovering above me.
"Swear?" I kiss him. God help me I'll kiss him for hours.
"I swear," he moans into my mouth. "I'm in the clouds. So, when are we going to the beach?"