Marty
EVEN NOW AFTER ALL THOSE years, after all the fires I fought, that memory still struck a chord with me. The emotion, the fear, the pain in the grandmother’s voice. However, having someone else hear it and show emotion like the tears on Fiona’s cheeks caused a stronger chord to pull tight in my chest. Her understanding was a connection I hadn’t thought possible this soon. I barely knew her. But as I held her face in my hands and brushed the tears from her cheeks I knew I wanted to know her more.
Every small detail about Fiona was important. She was unique, and in this world, I’d found that unique was getting harder to find. A small smile tugged at her lips. “I didn’t realize I was crying,” she whispered.
Her face wasn’t void of small flaws but those flaws made her perfect. She had tiny freckles on her nose and a tiny scar above her left brow. I wondered how she got the scar and in time I would ask. Her curly lashes were naturally black and long, outlining slightly tapered eyes that I knew combined with her cheekbones were a photographer’s dream. Her exotic looks came from her mother’s Spanish heritage.
Leaning in, I pressed a kiss to the soft skin near her mouth but didn’t quite act on the temptation that resided there. Lingering a second longer than intended, I inhaled her sweet scent. When I pulled back giving myself the distance I needed before moving too fast, I heard her exhale and saw the slight shiver she tried to mask.
Without meeting her gaze because I wasn’t sure I could, I walked back over to the pot of water that was now boiling and added the pasta. She didn’t speak and I wasn’t sure there was anything to say. Silence wasn’t a bad thing. I enjoyed silence at the right time and this was one of those times.
“You’re nothing like Mack,” she said after several minutes of silence.
I lifted my gaze from the sauce I was making, to smile at her.
“No I’m not, except for my DNA,” I replied.
She laughed softly. “Mack has never been one of my favorite people,” she admitted, apologetically.
Curious now, I decided I wanted to know how long she’d known Mack. “When did you meet Mack?”
She shrugged. “About the time I met Brian. I guess it was a little over a year ago.”
“Did you like Brian?”
“People like Brian’s energy. His humor. But if you look beyond that you’ll be disappointed. I understood that. Most girls didn’t. He had a lot of haters.”
I could see that. Mack had been similar in high school. “He should do well in the porn industry,” I said sincerely.
“Absolutely. He will be a star in that world.”
I laughed and she joined in.
I had sautéed the vegetables that were done. I combined the sauce, noodles, and vegetables together to let them soak in the flavors while I started on the salad.
“I should have asked if I could help do something. Instead, I have sat here and asked a million questions,” she said standing up.
“Sit. I enjoy this. I don’t mind answering your questions.”
She sat down. “I have a bottle of red wine. A man that Chantel was dating gave it to her with some roses and a letter telling her he had to end things. He was married and she didn’t know. I wouldn’t let her toss the wine against the wall because I looked at it and knew it was expensive. Would you like some? Seems fitting with this meal.”
“Yeah, let’s drink that cheating bastards wine. I hope he spent too much on it,” I replied.
“I’m sure he did,” she said with certainty. “He had also given her diamond earrings but she has since pawned them. And a designer purse that I refuse to let her sell. I want it when she decides she can’t look at it anymore.”
Before I could respond to that she left the kitchen in search of the wine. I finished up the salad as she retrieved the bottle, two glasses, and found a cork screw.
“Can you do it? I haven’t opened enough wine bottles to know how to do it correctly. I normally end up with a cork in the wine.”
Taking the bottle, I made quick work of the foil at the top of the bottle and opened it, handing her the completely intact cork. “Keep it. As a memory. The night we drank the bastard’s wine.”
“Chantel will like that.” She smiled. She took the cork and placed it in a bowl that sat on the kitchen table.
I poured wine into both glasses and Fiona returned to take one. I waited until she took a slow sip and appeared pleased. “This is good,” she affirmed. I wondered if she had a lot to compare it to, but I drank some of mine, and she was right. It wasn’t cheap. The wine was rich and smooth.
“Let’s eat.” I set my wine glass down, quickly made her plate and handed it to her. “Do you want to eat in here?”
She shook her head. “It’s nice out tonight. Let’s eat on the roof,” she suggested.
Stone had shown me the roof when we moved in. The setup with iron furniture and a fire pit along with candles that decorated the area was beautiful. But I hadn’t been up there since we moved in. Stone had said it was for all residents. In all honesty, I’d forgotten about it. I should have mentioned it to Mack because he could go there to smoke instead of our apartment’s balcony if it was even called a balcony since we were on the first floor.
“Sounds good. I haven’t tried it out yet.”
She took her glass of wine in one hand and her plate of food in the other. “Me neither. Let’s go break it in. For all the fancy decorating, I doubt Stone has used it either.”
He seemed like someone who didn’t relax much. I had to agree with her assumption on that.
“Don’t see much of him around,” I said as we walked out of her apartment and toward the stairwell leading to the rooftop.
“I haven’t seen him since I signed the lease and gave him my check,” she said. “I think he lives here part-time. I googled him and found out some about him, but not much. I just wanted to make sure he wasn’t a psycho.”
“Smart,” I replied. I hadn’t googled him at all. I’d just moved in without a thought.
The moonlight casts a nice glow over the space, but I went to the cabinet Stone had shown me with the lights for the candles and lit several around the table before taking a seat across from her.
Fiona’s face in the romantic glow surrounding us made this the most perfect meal of my life. Nothing could ever compare to this moment. I wanted more like it. More of her.