Alexander

 

 

 

I shouldn’t have told her about never being naked in front of a woman. Now, I’m going to have to explain why. That’s when I’ll lose her forever.

Perhaps if I had kissed her last night or any of the other nights I had the chance, I would have gotten something before she left. Not left with a sad conversation about my penis and a look of horror on her face.

“What about my body?” I said as I glanced down at the zipper on my jeans.

Aria stood and I took in how beautiful she was—savored it because I knew it would be my last chance to admire her this close. She had an amazing purple sweater on that clung to her and all I wanted to do was peel it off.

But that wasn’t going to happen.

She knelt in front of me. “You have this beautiful, sexy body and you haven’t let women see it? Even covered up with your top and jeans I can tell it’s gorgeous underneath. What if I took all the art in your place and hid it away, saying you could never see it again? How would that make you feel?”

“I’m not an object, Aria. Paintings are objects to be admired—a person is not,” I said, disappointed at her take on beauty and people.

 “You’re right, Alex. And I don’t mean any woman has the right to feel you up whenever they want, or that you should wear revealing clothing. What I meant is, if you are intimate with someone you should trust them enough to show them. Did you not trust them?”

Aria tucked her legs under herself and sat on her haunches. Her soulful brown eyes wide, seeking answers. Answers I couldn’t give her.

“Trust had nothing to do with it.” I shook my head. “Why are we talking about this, Aria? Why does this concern you anyway? These are my issues. You are here to paint my mural, not delve into my psyche.”

I picked up the sketch pad and handed it to her. She took what I offered, sighing as she studied her drawing. Aria didn’t move and refused to lift her head. A minute crept by before her eyes rose, telling a story I was afraid to hear.

“You’re right, Alex. I’m just your employee, here to do a job.” She stood and turned to face the wall.

Gritting my teeth, I held onto everything that wanted to come out. Every detail of my life, of my frustration, and how she was the first person to get to know me that wasn’t controlled by my mother.

I carried the weight but I had grown up learning how to hold that heavy burden. Aria was light and free—everything I wasn’t. Everything that drew me to her sweet splendor kept me from reaching out for more.

I stood and walked up behind her. “I didn’t mean that—”

She turned and all the warmth had drained from her eyes. “I know what you meant, Alex. Or would you prefer Mr. Hawthorne?”

“I want you to call me Alex. Just because you work for me doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.”

She covered her heart with the pad of paper, cradling it. “Like Bradley? No thank you, Alex. Despite what you think, my friendship can’t be bought. You may be used to paying people to be with you, but I have to be honest and tell you that’s not healthy. And I won’t contribute to that behavior.”

Aria turned and headed toward the door of the bedroom. “Since you picked out the picture, it’s going to take me a few days to make a large mock up for your wall. I won’t be back until next week. Goodbye, Alex.”

I watched her turn and walk down the hall before she disappeared.

Damn.

That wasn’t at all how it was supposed to go. I was stupid to think Aria would start to fall for me as she spent more time in this room near me. Like the mural was some aphrodisiac drawing us together. It’s as if I have the imagination and emotional maturity of a sixteen-year-old.

And even if she fell for me, what would become of that? There was a battle being fought in my heart. Between life as it has always been and the risk of love. I wanted love to win and maybe that was why I tried to keep Aria near. Even though I knew at the end of whatever this was, life as I knew it would ultimately win.

Because life before this mural involved my mother. And my mother always won.

“Alex, can I speak with you?” Bradley appeared in the doorway.

Perfect timing. The one man I considered a friend was also hired help.

“Yes. What is it?”

Perhaps whatever Bradley had to tell me might distract me from my invisible love life. It might even cheer me up. Even if he was an employee, Bradley was still nice and friendly.

“It’s about Aria. Something happened when she came here this morning and I wanted you to know about it.” He took a step into my room but hesitated to move farther.

“What happened?”

“I know you like her, Alex, but as head of your security I must warn you.”

“Okay . . .” I said a little confused.

His eyes flickered up to the corner of the wall where the mural would go. I began removing some of the wallpaper yesterday but a few strips remained.

“When she came in this morning, she went straight to the security room and walked inside. It’s as if she knew where it was and began looking around.”

Why would she do that? There had to be a mistake.

“Maybe she got lost and—” Before I could finish another voice cut me off.

“Alexander, my beautiful boy, I am so glad you are here.” My mother’s deep voice caused everyone in the room to straighten.

“Mom, what are you doing here?” I stood as she walked past Bradley and went straight to the wall.

“Why, I’ve come to see the progress on your little mural. I have to be honest, Alexander, it looks terrible.”

“Aria hasn’t started yet. I only picked out the picture today. As you can see, I am still tearing down the wallpaper.” I waved my hand at the two remaining strips on the wall.

She gasped and swiftly walked over to me, taking my hands in hers. “Oh no. Tell me you didn’t rip that paper down yourself?”

I shook my head. My mother and her spoiled ways. She believed manual labor was for the hired help, not for us.

“Of course, I did it myself. It’s not that hard. You may revel in not ever having to lift a finger, but I’m not you.”

She stood a little straighter and scoffed, “That is not something a Hawthorne does. Don’t you understand, Alexander? This name means something or I wouldn’t have put up with your father for as long as I did.”

As much as I hated my mom’s views on work and privilege, she was right about my father. She did tolerate much at his hands.

“I never asked you to stay with Dad.” I put my hands on her shoulders causing her brows to lift. “You should have left long ago. We would have been fine. Just the two of us.”

In that moment, something passed over her eyes. It was gone as quickly as it came, but I witnessed it. Regret. Pain. A need so great I wondered if my arms were wide enough to hold it.

As it disappeared, the mother I have come to know returned with her guarded and cold features. And I knew there was no point in getting her to understand anything.

“That was long ago and your father is no longer with us. We never need to worry about him again.”

She pulled away from my arms. My touch was warm and loving, and she couldn’t be reminded of something she no longer wanted.

“So, the mural. I’m glad we are changing this wall. You were right, Alex, this did need something fresh.”

“Alex, I’ll come back later so we can discuss Ms. Dixon.” Bradley nodded at me.

“What about Ms. Dixon?” my mother asked without turning her head to acknowledge Bradley.

Bradley’s eyes flickered to mine. He knew my mother almost as well as I did. She was the one to hire him five years ago. It was to keep me safe, as she put it. I don’t know why I would need a bodyguard since I rarely went outside.

I think my mom only hired Bradley to keep an eye on me.

“Ms. Dixon went into the security room when she arrived today, Mrs. Hawthorne. When I confronted her about it, she appeared nervous. I wanted Alex to know that.”

“Mom, I think she just got lost.” I felt the need to defend Aria even though I didn’t know why she walked into the security room.

“How could she have gotten into that room? Isn’t it locked, Bradley?” My mother turned to face him. Her dark wool blazer, tailored to her form, wrinkled as she crossed her arms.

“I must have left it open when I went to the bathroom. I didn’t think anyone would walk in,” Bradley said as he wiped his head over his brow. He knew what was coming.

What happened was a mistake and Bradley knew it. My mother detested mistakes.

Her gray eyes locked onto Bradley. He seemed to straighten the closer she moved. But when she reached him, my mother did something she rarely does—she touched him.

Her hand gently tapped his chest. “Thank you for letting us know, Bradley. I’m sure you weren’t expecting her to be here and didn’t think to close the door behind you. But now you know, don’t you? You know to keep a watchful eye,” my mother’s head turned toward me, “on people who don’t know us. Strangers only ever want to take from us. We need to keep our guard up.”

Her mouth curved, and it reminded me of how she used to smile at me, before my father died. Back when she loved me.