Like a little boy, I mused, shaking my head and grinning
too. I carried the plates into the kitchen and rinsed them off before putting
them in the dishwasher. Then I returned to the living room and stood there for
a moment, unsure. It felt strange to be alone in his place. There was so much
space.
Finally, I made my way to the couch—pushing aside the
memories of last night—and opened my email to respond to my mom. In my first
email, I told her I had a new number and copied the number Dallon had texted me
into an email. I sent that and started writing a longer email letting her know
that I had been working at a café while I figured things out. I had to come
clean some time, and it was better she found out before our phone call.
As I typed the email, worrying about how she would react
to the news of my lowly position, I realized that if I gave in to what Dallon
wanted, in less than a week I wouldn’t have any job, café or not. What would my
mother think then? She’d told me that if I wanted to be an artist, I should
work as a lawyer and pursue my art on the side, but all I’d thought about was
the long hours. If only I’d gotten a different, useful degree and followed the
rest of her plan.
I opened up safari and went to indeed.com, entered
“Office Assistant”. It was time to give up on the idea I could actually make a
living as an artist and focus on finding something practical with some room for
growth. My eyes widened with excitement as the page populated with various
administrative positions.
“What are you doing?”
I looked up, surprised to see Dallon standing beside me.
He’d moved so quietly. “I found a bunch of office assistant positions.”
He sat down on the arm of the couch and cocked his head
to the side. “Alternatives to working at Mix?”
“I hope so. If I can get one, that is.”
“Hmm.” He sprawled beside me, putting his bare feet up
on the coffee table.
“I’ve been stressing out writing an email to my mom
about how I’ve been working at a café,” I continued, trying not to look at him.
He was very distracting.
Dallon raised an eyebrow. “Your mom? How old are you,
Amy?”
I looked down, hiding a smile. “Twenty-two…”
He chuckled. “Time to get over the fear of your mom,
no?”
“It’s not about that! It’s about her expectations of
me.” When he didn’t react like he understood, I added, “They’re the same
expectations I have for myself.”
“Okay, let’s hear them.” He rolled to face me, placing
his elbow on the back of the couch and resting his head in his hand, and I
moved over, putting some needed space between us.
“See, my parents are together now, but when I was
little, my father left my mom and I for six years.”
Dallon reached out to take my hand, and I quickly
continued. “I don’t want to get into the details of it, but it was just my mom
and I for a while. He wasn’t able to help us monetarily, so it was my mom’s
career as a journalist that put food on the table, not to mention what kept her
going mentally. When my father returned, he tried as hard as possible to make
it up to both of us, but even though Mom forgave him and accepted him back, she
never really forgot what it was like during that time when we no longer had his
support, and neither did I. Anything can happen in life, and after that, my mom
tried to teach me the importance of taking care of myself.”
And so far, I was doing a rather bad job.
Dallon nodded thoughtfully. “So that is why you don’t
want to be dependent on me.”
I nodded.
“I see.” He looked around as if taking in his penthouse
and all the available luxuries he could share with me if only I were to let
him. “Your story explains a great deal, especially the part about your father
abandoning you.”
“It wasn’t… quite like that.” I tucked my legs under me
and waited for him to continue that thought, but he didn’t. Instead, he slapped
his legs and stood up.
“I’ll grab a laptop. We’ll put together a resume for you
a
nd send out applications today.”
It took almost three hours to put together a resume for
me and send out all the applications. Dallon and I argued about what address to
enter in my contact information; he insisted that I used his address, and I
wanted to use my current one. In the end he won only because I didn’t plan to
stay in my hole forever.
Around 3p.m., I went into Dallon’s bedroom to call Mix
and tell them I was no longer interested in the job. The application process
had taken most of the afternoon and the last thing I wanted to do was go to
work at a loud, skeevy bar. Even though I apologized, the assistant manager got
angry before calling me names and demanding that I pay for the uniform. Dallon
walked into the room in the midst of me sputtering that I’d never agreed to buy
it, grabbed the phone out of my hands, and told them to shove it before hanging
up.
“You don’t have to save me,” I said when he passed the
phone back to me.
He smirked. “But I’m so good at it.”
Turning, he yanked off his shirt and padded into his
bathroom in only his pajamas, and I was left gawking at his back. If it looked
that good, I couldn’t imagine how the rest of him looked.
A second later, I heard the shower running.
I carried my pile of clothes over to the bed to get
dressed. I had just pulled on my pants when the phone started ringing. It was
my mom. Guess she couldn’t wait until Sunday. I quickly finishing clasping my
bra and picked up the phone just before it went to voicemail and incited
another freakout.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Amy! I just got your email. Why haven’t you been
answering?”
“I had a problem with my phone. This is my new one.”
“Yes, I got that. I’ve been worried about you.” She
waited for me to apologize before continuing, “So what’s this about you working
at a café?”
I sighed and sat down on Dallon’s bed, leaned up against
the headboard. “Yes while I’ve been searching for a job.”
“Have you had any leads?” Her voice sounded hopeful and
for some reason, it made me feel less hopeful.
“I applied for a whole bunch today, so I’ll let you
know.”
“What types of positions?”
“Office positions. Admin stuff.”
“Mm hmm. Well, I hope it works out for you. I heard you
moved into a new place?”
I didn’t have to ask how she knew; she and Sam’s mom
were tight. “Yep, first place of my own.”
“Do you like it?”
I laughed awkwardly. “It’s okay. Again, it’s temporary.”
Now Mom sighed loudly. I was wondering how long it would
take.
“Honey, why don’t you just come home? Do you really need
to stay there now that school is finished? It’s so expensive in New York.”
I took a deep breath before responding, trying not to
say something I’d regret. We’d had this conversation a million times and she
never really seemed to get it. “There are more opportunities in New York and I
like it here. It’s an amazing city.”
I heard the shower stop and rushed to end the
conversation. “Try to relax, Mom. Things will work out.”
“I worry about you; you’re my only baby.”
“I know. Listen Mom, I’ve got to go.”
“Don’t you want to speak to your dad?”
Dallon appeared at the door leading into the bedroom,
clad in only a small towel which was wrapped around his waist. He put his hands
on his hips and raised his eyebrows up and down playfully. “Hey, baby.”
“Sorry, I’ve got to go,” I whispered and hung up.
Dallon grinned and stalked toward me. I sat frozen,
unable to move as he made his way across the room, climbed onto the bed and
took my face in his hands, kissing me deeply. I leaned back on the pillows and
he climbed on top of me, his right hand moving to cup my breast over my bra,
his thumb gently circling the nipple. The small contact through clothing sent
shivers through my body. It was crazy how little he had to touch me to turn me
on. Then he was kissing my neck and moving down to my chest. His right hand
moved to my head and he grasped my hair in his fist, holding it tight, his
kisses moving further down my body, past my navel…
His head jerked up. “We should go out. Drinks and
dinner. Otherwise I’m going to want to do more with you.” His eyes darkened and
there was a quality to him I hadn’t seen before. He seemed… harder.
I nodded quickly. I wasn’t ready to go that far. Not
yet.
“We’ll stop at your place first and you can change.”
I nodded again, still unable to speak.
He stood up and adjusted his towel. As he entered the
closet, he let it fall to the floor just before turning the corner.
***
We rode the elevator to the underground parking, heated
silence between us. I’d felt something in Dallon’s bedroom, something intense
and… dark. The way he’d grabbed my hair, that look in his eyes when he sat up…
I couldn’t explain it. It felt like fear and excitement mixing together, and it
was intoxicating.
When the elevator opened, Dallon grabbed my hand and
pulled me out, walking briskly so that I had to half-jog to keep up.
“Where’s your driver?”
“Arnold is on vacation this week. He has a life too, you
know.”
“Pity. I feel so bad for you.”
“Don’t. I enjoy driving.” He flashed me a smile before
pushing a button on his keychain. A sleek, black car beeped, its lights turning
on.
“It’s nice,” I said because he was looking at me
expectantly.
“It’s
nice
? You’re calling a Bentley GTC
nice
?”
“I don’t know much about cars,” I admitted. “I only
recognized your Audi—Arnold’s car, I mean—because I like the connected rings.
The logo or hood ornament or whatever.”
He continued to stare at me incredulously, so I carried
on nervously.
“I really like it. It’s very… sleek.”
Dallon sighed. Instead of walking to the driver’s side,
he opened the passenger door for me to climb in first, like a gentleman.
“Get in.” Not so gentlemanly.
He reversed out of the stall quickly, his lips set in a
thin line. It wasn’t until we were far away from his apartment and headed to
Brooklyn that he seemed to relax.
“Where would you like to go for dinner?”
“It’s up to you; it’s your city. As long as I get a
change of clothes, I’ll be happy.”
“I haven’t been to Brooklyn in a while.”
I laughed softly. “You’re not missing much.”
“I’m really glad you didn’t go to Mix,” he said softly
and smiled at me. “I would worry about you if you worked there. Your manager
was an ass. He rivaled me,” he added with a wink.
I laughed. Dallon King was very comfortable with
himself. “Do you need directions?”
“I remember the address from the resume discussion.”
He had turned serious again, and I wasn’t sure why; if
he was remembering our argument or he was displeased with my address. Most
likely both. I sighed inwardly and leaned back in my seat, trying to relax.
Driving in Dallon’s car was a much more enjoyable way of getting around than
the subway, and I didn’t have to worry about his reaction to my place for at least
ten more minutes.
“Did you have a good talk with your mom?”
“I told her that I applied for office positions today.”
“I heard you telling her to relax. Did you tell her
about us?”
I glanced at Dallon. He was staring straight forward,
giving nothing away.
“No. She was worrying about…” I paused, considering
whether or not to lie. “She doesn’t like that I live in Brooklyn and wants me
to come home.”
Dallon’s hands tightened on the wheel. “That’s not going
to happen.”
“I know, I told her I’m enjoying the city.”
He smiled at me, one eyebrow raised. “The city?”
I sank down in my seat. “The city. You. All of it.”
He laughed and faced the road again.
When it was time to show Dallon my building, I was
beyond nervous. It had probably once been nice, but that was a long time ago.
Now it looked in dire need of repair and, depending on the time of day and
heat, smelled faintly of piss. There were multiple locks on the front door and
I had keys to all of them. Dallon stood there and watched me struggle with each
lock. By the time we’d walked the steps to the third floor, I was so shaky that
I dropped the keys outside my door. Then when I’d finally inserted my key into
the lock, the door wouldn’t budge, and Dallon had to shove his shoulder against
it until it swung open and hit the wall, sagging on its hinges.
It certainly wasn’t the introduction I’d been hoping
for. I stood in the hallway, fingering my keys, and watched as Dallon stepped
in. I didn’t want to follow him at first, lest I take up more room in the small
space.