CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Aidan drove faster than I liked. After my mother’s accident, I was paranoid about being a passenger in a speeding vehicle. But he also demonstrated proficiency and confidence as a driver, so I soon released my white knuckles.
“Why did you ask me if you’d spoken in your sleep?” I asked as we drove speedily along the busy highway.
Aidan shrugged. “I’ve been known to be a noisy sleeper.”
This abridged response failed to answer my question. I recalled the tightening of his jaw when he’d asked me earlier. I didn’t want to push.
Having turned on some music, Aidan entertained me by singing along with the Doors. With his hand on my thigh, along with the occasional eye-twinkling glance, he knew all the lyrics as he sang along with Come on Baby Light My Fire.
The ordinary, almost shabby appearance of our apartment block, particularly after the opulence of Aidan’s world, made me recoil.
“Would you like to come in?” I asked, hoping Aidan would decline.
He brushed my cheek. “No, beautiful girl, I really have to hurry along. My pilot will be waiting for me.” He held me. “Our time together has been too short. We can spend next weekend together.” Aidan pulled away. “That’s if you want to.”
“Of course,” I said, releasing the car door.
“Wait.” Aidan jumped out of the car. He raced to my side and opened the door. Before I could speak, Aidan lifted me up and onto the sidewalk.
“How chivalrous,” I said, my heart all aflutter.
“You’re very light.” Aidan tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. “I’ll call you. Make sure you have your phone on.” He hugged me.
I stood by the curb watching my new lover drive off. Asking myself if this was real, my body answered with a resounding yes, as a delightful, addictive ache rang up my legs.
After I entered my apartment, I headed for the fridge to grab a juice from the
fridge. “Where’s Josh?” I asked Tabitha, who was slouched on the sofa.
“He had to go to work.”
“What, on Sunday?”
“That’s what I said,” responded Tabitha, all long-faced.
I touched her arm. “What’s up Tabs?”
Her hair was unusually messy. She really had the blues. “I just feel so alone.”
“Why, because Josh is working on a Sunday?”
“My life’s going nowhere, Clary.”
I looked at the clock. “Hey, let’s go to Sammy’s for coffee and cake, and then you can come with me to visit Dad.”
“Coffee and cake sounds yummy.” She sprang off the sofa in a flash. In typical Tabitha fashion at the mention of an outing, life suddenly brightened.
“I’ll pass on the lunch, though. I’ve got a few things I should be doing,” said Tabitha, combing her hair.
Reverting to the old me, I dressed in a modest, floral shift, and slipped on my flat
pumps. Tabitha entered and sat on the edge of the bed. “Aidan’s nuts about you, baby.”
She watched me in the mirror brushing my hair. “I reckon he came looking for you after you didn’t return his texts.”
“He said he had some business there, but he also confessed to tracking me down.”
Tabi’s green eyes sparkled keenly. “Shit, stalking as well. Wow, Clary, he’s really got it bad. But your phone had a flat battery. How did he do it?”
Good question.
“No idea. He’s a man of great means, so I suppose he’s got his ways.” I twisted my hair into a bun and clipped it down.
“You didn’t ask him?” she asked.
I shook my head. “I wanted to pick his brain. I suppose his big blue eyes and those searching hands of his led me astray.”
Tabitha laughed raucously. “I thought he was going to knock Cameron’s teeth in. The air was so thick with testosterone. It was very entertaining.”
“Entertaining? I’d hardly call it that.” Softening my tone, I asked, “So do you think he’s into me?”
“Fuck, yeah. It’s written all over him. And why shouldn’t he be? You’re one hot babe. You looked very sexy in that little dress of yours. Poor Cameron’s heart was broken after you left. He was bereft.”
My phone pinged. “Probably Dad. We’d better go,” I said, getting my phone out of my bag. My heart jumped. The message was from Aidan: I’m already missing you. XXX Aidan.
My face must have given it away because Tabitha asked, “Let me guess— Aidan?”
I nodded. A wide smile stretched my face.
“See? Told you he’s got it bad,” Tabitha chanted. She pulled one of her silly faces and made me laugh—a throwback from our younger years. Tabitha loved to pull faces, often behind a superior’s back, leaving me alone to face that person. We used to kill ourselves laughing afterwards and I always forgave her.
We’d had different reactions to the deaths of our mothers. Tabitha didn’t handle her mother’s death to cancer well, hiding her sorrow behind a guise of rebelliousness. I hid mine in books and playing mother to my distraught father.