Chapter 27
Mason
The week had been wonderful. I took Ash into town for her jewelry classes, I went and gathered up a few items I knew she could use for her jewelry making, and then I’d surprise her with them over dinner.
We’d walk to town, hand in hand, and listen to the street performers play their instruments and sing their songs. It was like I got to experience Milan for the first time. I’d been coming here as long as I could remember, so the sights and sounds and smells were nothing new to me. But for Ash, they were exotic. Everything made her gasp, and she’d dart in and out of shops. Every time she laid her hand on something, I’d pick it up and hand it to the cashier.
The routine we had was wonderful. It started with her jewelry classes, culminated with walks around town, and then we’d end up back at the house to cook dinner. I kept telling her how wonderful the restaurants in town were, but she kept insisting there were so many good foods to cook in the house.
So, we cooked dinner every night together. We shared a bottle of wine, and I got to experience how well she could cook. She’d handle the meat, and I’d take care of the sides. We’d take our dinner to the porch and listen to the distant sounds of Milan while we filled our stomachs.
Her blue hair glistened underneath Italy’s moonlight, and the stars twinkled in her eyes while she sipped her evening wine. Everything about this felt right. The jewelry, the traveling, the way the backdrop of Milan contrasted against her skin. Every night I would pull out a little box with more materials for her jewelry making, and every single time I did it, she seemed just as surprised and excited as the night before.
I realized I could do this with her for the rest of my life. I could do this exact routine in this exact place and never want for another thing in my entire life.
But tonight was going to be special. Tonight, I had everything planned. I picked her up from her jewelry class, and we walked around town. But when we went home, I told her to sit. I handed her a glass of wine, and she lounged on the couch.
I filled the Italian mansion with the smells of wine, fish, and noodles while she relaxed in the evening sun streaming through the windows. I gathered all the dinner items and slowly placed them out on the terrace, and then I told her to go and get dressed in the best outfit she brought with her.
“Why?” she asked.
“Because I want you to remember tonight,” I said.
“Mason, I’m gonna remember every night of this beautiful trip,” she said.
“But I want this night to be the one that stands out,” I said.
“Why?”
“You’ll just have to wait and see.”
“Can I have a hint?” she pouted.
“No,” I said.
“Please?”
“Ash…”
“Just a tiny one?” she squeaked.
“Since when have we ever done anything in a tiny way?”
“There’s always a first for everything,” she said.
“Just go put on something wonderful,” I urged. “Something that makes you feel beautiful.”
“Does that mean I can put you on?” she said.
“After dinner, you can slather me anywhere on that beautiful body of yours.”
“Sounds like a challenge,” she said.
“More like a promise I hope you’ll keep.” I winked.
“All right, I’ll go get changed,” she relented.
“I bet you’ll look wonderful.”
She gave me a funny little look before she escaped to the bedroom, and that’s when I threw myself into gear. I placed candles outside on the table and lit them, then laid a dozen long-stemmed red roses in her chair. A white ribbon was tied around the bouquet, and attached to the bow was a small bag of the finest pieces of onyx I could find in the city.
I noticed she always put those fake onyx stones on her jewelry, and I thought if she loved them that much, she could add just one true piece of onyx in every piece she made, like a little signature for her brand.
I’d been listening to her the entire time she talked about her jewelry classes, and I knew I’d paid for the right ones. These masters weren’t just teaching her how to make stunning pieces of jewelry, but they were teaching her how to market her talents. They were directing her to reputable materials manufacturers who could give her the finest quality ingredients for reasonable prices, and they were talking with her about how branding herself worked.
I’d take her to this hole-in-the-wall coffee place a few blocks into town, and she would talk about all the different materials she could never afford to use in her jewelry, and I committed all those names to memory. I memorized the materials and the dealers of the materials and even the ideas she had on branding herself and her talents. When she would go into her classes, I’d seek them out and have them talk me through what I was looking at.
Glass beads and jade ovals and crystals that caught even the dimmest of suns and sparkled on your skin. Shined onyx pieces and silk cordage and platinum chain hooks she could pry apart and fuse back together in any shapes she wished. I could tell by the jewelry she wore around her neck that she was drawn to the darker bases, but she always broke up the dark with bright, unpredictable pieces that always seemed to catch the eye.
But the little bag attached to the roses came with a story. I was going to tell her how I always noticed the onyx pieces on her jewelry. I was going to tell her to look hard at the onyx pieces because I had her initials etched into every single piece. I was going to tell her that I supported her journey and that if she wouldn’t let me invest a chunk of money into her jewelry line, that I would invest in her dreams by purchasing her the materials she needed to make jewelry she could sell.
I wanted her to know I was serious about supporting what she wanted to do in life and I wanted to show her I was serious about never ripping her independence away from her or forcing her to change for any lifestyle.
I wasn’t going to let dating me do to her, what dating my father did to my mother.
I made sure everything was sitting at the table just right, and then I jogged over to the closet and pulled my suit coat and tie out from behind the door. My hands were trembling with nerves, and it took me three tries before I got my tie right.
It was astounding to me how I could spend this much time with Ash, and the idea of impressing her still made me shake in my shoes. But when I looked up and took another look at the terrace and the candlelight dancing in the darkness, I knew I’d done well. I smoothed my coat out and grabbed our two wine glasses, along with the opened bottle of wine, and I went outside to put them on the table. Tonight was going to be the night.
Tonight was the night I was going to tell her I was in love with her.
And my hope was that I would hear those words from her in return.
I knew it was quick, and I knew we’d really had some hurdles we had to climb over. By all accounts, the argument we had at that awful brunch should’ve sunk any chances I ever had at being with her. But, for whatever reason, that beautiful, luscious woman, with bright blue hair, ruby red lips, curves that hugged my body, and a voice that made me shiver, gave me a second chance.
And I sure as hell wasn’t gonna squander it because I was an idiot.
My hands began to tremble when I heard the door open behind me. I took a few deep breaths and smoothed my hands down my jacket one last time, but when the person’s voice hit my ears, I felt vomit rise to the top of my throat.
“Oh, Mason. This is beautiful.”
That sultry, smoky, empty voice filled the corners of the room, and when I turned on the balls of my feet, I saw Eva standing in the doorway of the house.
“Mason, did you cook this for us?” she asked.
I was stunned speechless. Eva walked in and slowly set her bag on the floor, and when she looked around the house, I could tell she was already clocking the things she didn’t like. Her lips smiled, but her eyes judged, and I could tell by the way her brow was slightly furrowing that something didn’t “sit with her tastes” well. It was like she could smell a dirty diaper in the rafters, but didn’t want to alert anyone that she knew it was there.
“Your mother sent me on. Said she wasn’t feeling well…” she trailed off. Eva crossed the floor and locked her eyes with me, and that’s when I realized what was going on.
Mother was faking sick and sent Eva a day early to Milan.
“Eva,” I began.
“You really didn’t have to go through all this trouble,” she said.
“None of this is for you,” I said bluntly.
“Oh, you don’t have to try and hide it any longer. Your mother already figured it out. She knew you were coming early to set things up for us. I just hate she’s so sick.”
I knew my mother wasn’t sick. If she was sick, she would’ve called and wanted me home. There wasn’t a moment in my life where my mother didn’t call for my father when she wasn’t feeling well, and when my father passed, my phone was the one to ring every time she was plagued with something and not feeling well.
No, my mother wasn’t sick. She was conniving. She sent Eva here a day early so we could be alone, and it made me sick to my stomach.
“Eva, I really need you to leave,” I said.
“And why in the world would I do something like that?” she asked.
I watched her eyes flicker out to the terrace I had set up behind me, and her eyes lit up with joy. Actual joy. Something I’d never seen before in the years I’d been around her, and the emotion from her was just enough to root me to the floor. She buzzed by me and headed for the terrace porch, then she picked up the dozen roses and brought them to her nose.
“Mason, these smell divine,” she moaned. “And dinner looks delectable. I’m absolutely starving. But what is this little bag hanging from the flowers?”
“Eva, this isn’t—”
“Mason?”
I whipped around and saw Ash standing behind me. I thought my heart was going to fall out of my ass crack. Eva was standing behind me with Ash’s roses stuffed in her upturned, hoity toity nose, and Ash was dressed in this beautiful sweetheart neckline dress that hit the middle of her thigh and teased me with the sight of her cleavage.
Ash’s features sparkled in the star-filled Italian sky, and my hands were aching to reach out and grasp the small of her waist. My body was singing its song for her, but her eyes weren’t trained on me.
Ash was looking at the person behind me. The ice queen woman with roses stuffed in her face and a bag full of precious onyx beads that were meant only for Ash’s hands.
And then, that was when it hit me. This was what Winston warned me about. The inevitable clash, and the fact that my mother had blended so well with the society around her that she wouldn’t ever stop to consider her own situation that brought her and my father together.
This was what Winston was talking about when he said to warn Ash. To clue her in. To tell her what was going on and to grip her close and face it head on.
Damn it, I was a fucking idiot.
And I was going to lose Ash because of it.