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“You live in my house. I guess it’s okay if I notice you’re around.”
“I don’t live here, Blake.”
Of course she was right. See, more of that delirious afterglow talk. Only a truly stupendous orgasm could addle my thoughts to the extent that I forgot for even a second.
Alone was what I wanted to be. When I was alone, no one could disappoint me. I also couldn’t disappoint anyone else.
Failed expectations, both my own and others, were worse than loneliness.
“I’ll be leaving soon, just as soon as someone gives me my job back. I need money for my own place. Not that that’s your responsibility—”
“What did you do with the money for the angel?” I already knew it was gone, I just didn’t know how.
She was almost as stubborn and prideful as I was. She couldn’t believe I would’ve bought the piece no matter who the artist was. It spoke to me that much. So much that I’d kept it wrapped up all week, because that living reminder of Grace in my space while she was already there filling up every nook and cranny would’ve been too much.
I would’ve begun to expect. Maybe I already was.
Again, she hesitated before answering.
“I started a scholarship fund in my grandmother’s name at the Beacon school, for two deserving students each year to go to art camp. It’s important, Blake, so don’t tell me I was wrong.” Her voice broke. “Don’t tell me you don’t want me here. Even if it’s true, don’t tell me that tonight while I’m still wrapped around you.”
I reached up to brush her hair out of her face. I was afraid if I spoke right then, my voice would’ve cracked like the glass shards embedded in the body of her angel. She humbled me in ways I didn’t have words for. That her desire to help—and yes, her pride—was more important than getting away from a man who’d only brought her pain made me press my face to her neck.
“I’m wrapped around you too.”
Proving it, I rolled her underneath me and began to love her all over again.
Sleep was an afterthought that night, and the others that came after. I didn’t exactly give her back her job, but when Violet pinged me and told me Grace was at the front desk requesting an access pass, I didn’t refuse her. I’d been on the verge of giving her the job back anyway. I was drowning without her capabilities. Her spreadsheets were a thing to behold.
So were her smiles.
Not that she granted me many. At work, we were strictly professional. She even seemed to mostly steer clear of Jack. As did I, since I was saving that confrontation for Saturday night.
No, at work Grace was all business, often skipping lunch periods so she could leave early. I wasn’t sure why. Perhaps she’d found studio space if nothing else. Philomena at the gallery was loaded and had contacts all over. Surely she could’ve set her up. Grace definitely wasn’t working on her glass work at the house. My house. The place where she was every night, finding me in the dark where we communicated without words and never lacked for something to say.
She even helped me get ready for my ill-conceived party. I didn’t ask for her assistance, she just offered it. Contacting caterers and making sure the place looked presentable. She was messier than I was by nature, tending to throw clothes where they landed, but she didn’t hesitate to pitch in around the house. It made preparing for an event I absolutely did not want to host much more bearable.
I’d just stepped out of the shower the day of the
party when I got her text that she was getting supplies and having a quick lunch with a friend, but she’d be home soon to help with last minute adjustments.
I stared at those two words home soon for about ten minutes.
My response wasn’t exactly eloquent.
Okay.
What was I supposed to say? All right, a thank you might’ve been in order, but I thought of that after the fact. I’d tell her that later. Better yet, I’d show her. We were getting pretty inventive at showing our gratitude for all sorts of things. Soon we’d be fucking to prove we enjoyed dinner.
Any excuse was good enough.
After showering, I dug into a few more hours of work. My happy place. By the time I looked up again, it was nearing dark. Still no Grace either. She must’ve run long on her lunch date.
I dressed quickly in the black suit I’d picked out for the event. Funeral black seemed appropriate, since that was the only reason I could imagine for having a party in my house. But I wanted to watch some of the people in my sphere without knowing they were being watched, and what better way than to offer them fancy finger food and enough libations to sink an entire football team?
I just didn’t expect Jack to show up first. Well, Jack, Violet and her brother Daniel and sister-in-law Marina. Marina, who was model-beautiful and clung to her husband’s arm as if they couldn’t bear to be apart for even a second.
Grace would never treat me like that. She was far too independent. Too used to making her own way, in whatever crazy manner she dreamed up from one day to the next.
