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“Thank you,” is all I can manage to say in reply.
I lift her off my lap, needing to move somewhere more comfortable. There is no getting out of this, and I know we should talk.
“Go and make yourself comfortable in the lounge room. I’ll get us a night cap.”
She smiles at me with a sense of sarcasm coming. “Not sure alcohol is a good idea for me, never seems to end well.”
I laugh at her as she starts toward the living room. “Agreed, but if you want me to talk, then I sure as shit need it.”
“Then bring the bottle,” she yells from the hallway, and I can’t help but laugh harder because it’s not a bad idea.
As I walk into the room lit just with lamplight and see her in the corner of the big cream comfy couch, feet pulled up beneath her and her head leaning back, it has me catching my breath. As much as she turns me on when we are going toe to toe with each other, the sight of her like this, still, quiet, and relaxed, is something I long to see more of.
“I was joking about the bottle,” she says, smiling at me as I hand her a glass.
“I wasn’t.” Pouring a small amount of port into our glasses, then placing the bottle on the coffee table, I take my seat as close as possible to her without sitting on her lap. I need to be touching her.
She sips her port and closes her eyes as it slides down her throat nicely. If there is one thing that I’ve learned as a chef, it’s that the quality of good alcohol makes a world of difference to the taste, as well as how you feel the morning after.
“Your mum sounds like she went through a lot with your father.” She places her hand on my thigh and squeezes with a little pressure, reassuring me that this is a safe space.
But all my panicking brain can think is that she heard our conversation.
I stiffen up. “How much did you hear?” I ask, pinning her with my stare. I don’t want any bullshit answer.
“Most of it.”
And I want to get up and walk out. Here I was trying to pull together the courage to show her my vulnerable side, but she saw it all anyway. No one has ever been able to strip back my layers like my mother can. Until now.
“Don’t shut down on me, Nicholas. Please don’t shut me out.”
I throw my head back and down the rest of my glass of port, because I don’t know what else to do. “Ughhh,” I groan, looking up at the ceiling, and finally lower my head back down to look into her eyes. “I’m trying not to, I truly am.” I can’t be any more honest than that.
“Then let me lead for once. You tell me if I’m wrong.”
Yes. Yes, I can do that. If she says the words, I just need to agree.
What is wrong with me that I need this woman to hold my hand on my emotions? If the boys could see me like this, they would have a totally different opinion of me.
“You told me I should have researched you on the internet, but I don’t want to know that person. I want to know the real you. This man here. The one who loves and respects his mum. Who would do anything for his friends and everyone who works for him. That I can tell by the way you want to protect the business from a scandal. You don’t care what people think of you, just the hotels, because you don’t want anyone to lose their jobs. Well, maybe Jocelyn, but you get my vote on that one too.”
“My staff work hard, and no matter what their role is in the hotel, at the end of the day, they are doing it to support themselves or someone they love. My mother and grandparents did that their whole lives, and I respect people who work hard like they did.” My passion for the people in my business bursts forward as soon as she talks about them.
“I get that. I come from the working class too, and I applaud you for the respect you show them.” She pulls on my arm until I’m almost lying on her side, and this time, I’m the one in her arms.
“But the real Nicholas is the man your mum talked about, an asshole because he is scared to feel. Everything she said made so much sense. You want to control me, and I’ll only ever admit this to you, but I fucking love being dominated in every way you have thrown at me so far.” Taking a breath, she kisses the top of my head and then continues. “But you do know that it is a cover for you. You think if you treat women like that, then no one will ever fall for you. You won’t have to open up, and especially, you will never have to feel anything. Except, of course, immense pleasure at getting off while you are in your element. But one day, that will stop being enough, and there won’t be anyone here to comfort you in the days that you need them. Like this, when you just want to be soft and not always having to be the one pushing the moment.”
“I will never get tired of your body,” I slip in, objecting to what she said.
“Of course, that’s all you heard.” There’s frustration in her voice. I can’t let her think I don’t want her to keep going.
“No, I heard it all, and it’s just so close to truth that you must know how hard it is for me to acknowledge.” I gulp, wishing I still had the glass of port in my hand. I don’t know what to do, and I want to get up and pace, but I can’t.Man up, and finally face your fears.
“Has it occurred to you that if you can’t do it with me, then you may never open up to anyone?”
“Yes,” I growl like a child.
“Well, at least we are getting somewhere.” She tilts my head up so I am looking at her and can’t hide.
