REBORN (Metamorphosis Book 1) (4 page)

However, the girls were as enthralled by Kayden as I was.

Kayden took my hand, kissed it for a long moment then turned to my daughters and said, "Ladies, it was a pleasure to meet you."

He simply nodded to Julian and Damien when he encountered them in the lobby.

Julian was livid; he tried to confront me about my relationship with Kayden but I refused to answer his questions.

"Just in case you have forgotten, I, we are no longer married."  With those words I ended the conversation, at least for the moment.

*****

I met Kayden in the lobby at eight.  He was dressed in casual loose jeans, a light burgundy sweater that accentuated the warm color of his skin and loafers.  He had a light jacket on his arm and a blanket. 

"Where are we going?"

"There's an outdoor concert in Grant Park and I thought we could check it out."

"Just like that, no pre-planning."

"Nope, no pre-planning. Why, are you opposed to spontaneity?"

"On the contrary, spontaneity is my middle name."

We chose to walk to the park. It was a temperamental and chilly September night in Chicago, so I was glad that I wore a jacket.  He held my hand as we walked along Michigan Avenue, just talking and noticing passersby, making up stories about where they were going.  It was so easy to be with him!                

"What was that all about this afternoon when you met Julian?" I asked.

"That man still wants you, I need to know if you still want him," he responded.

"Not that it's any of your business, but he is my ex.  If I wanted to be with him I would still be married to him," I countered, the irritation evident in my voice.

"It is my business, and I will not interfere if you are still in love with him."

"I love Julian, I always will; but I have not been in love with him for at least ten years, if not more.  I stayed with him because of the kids; he stayed because of habit or convenience.  I stayed in the house until Damien graduated from high school, and then moved into the apartment before going to Europe.  End of story. Satisfied?"

"For now," he nodded in affirmation.

"Now, if all we are going to do is talk about Julian tonight, you might as well take me back home so I can hear his complaints over the phone about the dangers of going out with a stranger."

"He still wants you, you know."

"Oh, for heaven's sake, I don't want him," I told him, exasperated.

This time he turned around, wrapped me in his arms, and looked into my eyes.  His eyes were hungry, with some repressed need that seemed to match my own.

"Good, it's settled."  He had a grin on his face.  But what was settled?

*****

It was a beautiful clear night and the concert was fantastic.  But after all that talking and being in Kayden's arms all I could think about was feeling Kayden's lips against mine, feeling his hands, his body. "Oh stop it," I told myself.  Unfortunately I could not stop my mind from wondering or my body from feeling the way it did; I was flushed just from the thought of it, and butterflies took permanent residence in my stomach.

Kayden didn't say much.  His arms were wrapped around me as I leaned against his solid chest.  He simply stroked my arms and occasionally kissed my hair, my shoulders, my forehead.  This was too intimate for two people who had just met.  I was going to have to end whatever we had and soon; such an attraction could be perilous.  I needed to make a life on my own, not get entangled with the first guy to pay attention to me.  And yet, for now, I wanted this, whatever this was.  And so I burrowed myself into his arms and just enjoyed the wonderful sounds of the Chicago Symphony combined with the rhythm of Kayden's heart.

By the time the concert was over and we had navigated the crowd, the limo was waiting for us on Michigan Avenue.

"Are you hungry?" Kayden asked.

"A little," but not for food, I thought.

He told the driver to take us to a wine bar on Halstead.

"I'm not dressed for that place," I reminded him.

"Would you rather go to my place?"

I looked at him with a grin on my face and then asked in a silky voice, "Really?"

Placing his hand over his heart Kayden spoke, "I promise to be a perfect gentleman."

In my mind I thought, "I hope not too perfect."

The ride in the limo to the penthouse was quiet; Kayden held my hand and looked out the window as if he were debating something.  

Kayden's penthouse apartment occupied the entire twenty-sixth floor, giving him a three hundred and sixty-degree picture of both the lake and the city.  The view from the living room windows was stunning; stars illuminated the horizon and the lake was pitch black at this time of the night.  The furniture was unpretentious, with simple lines and deep colors.  The atmosphere was relaxing and inviting.  The walls were decorated with art from around the world and the floors were of dark woods with beautiful rugs to enhance them.  There was a fireplace in the middle of the living room and a huge portrait of a beautiful young woman adorned the mantel above the fireplace.

This was Kayden's space; that was obvious.  Immediately I felt uncomfortable in it, like I was intruding, and my instincts told me why.  I wished I had gone to the wine bar with him instead of his apartment.

"Is that your wife?" I asked, as I stared at the oversized painting of the woman hanging over the fireplace.

"That was a painting of her just before we got married," he responded.

Great, now his dead wife was looking at us, I thought.  What a way to end a perfect evening!

The woman in the painting looked nothing like me.  Her hair was light brown, almost blonde, and fell below her shoulders in cascading waves.  Her eyes were a beautiful shade of grey, which accentuated her cream-colored complexion. She was slim, oh so slim, with a slender build that was reminiscent of Audrey Hepburn.  And her smile had an innocence that would melt the heart of the most skeptic among us.  Without wanting to, I found myself fearing her innocence, her simple beauty.

There was no way anyone could compete with that image of perfection, certainly not me.  My body, my face were nothing like hers.  I had kept my hair short, just below my ears, most of my adult life, mostly out of convenience; my curls were too difficult to manage when I let it grow.  My hair was a chestnut brown, much darker than hers but lighter than Kayden's. And as for my body, well, let's just say I have had a full body since I was twelve.  I was never fat, but always struggled with my weight; never really happy about the way I looked, about my curves.  My image never fit with that of my friends.  In many ways I learned to dress to hide my curves instead of accentuating them.     

"Let me see what I find in the refrigerator, I need to feed you; sandwiches okay?"  I heard Kayden call out in the distance.

"That would be great, let me help you."

I needed to move away from those piercing grey eyes as soon as possible so I almost ran to the kitchen.

We made turkey sandwiches on whole-grain bread and sat in silence around the kitchen island.  Kayden opened a bottle of Pinot Noir, knowing my preference for red wine.  I was suddenly tired and told him I needed to go.  He accompanied me downstairs.  He took my key from my hand and opened the door.

"Are you okay?  All of a sudden you seemed very quiet." 

"Just tired," I responded.

He rubbed the pad of his thumb around the side of my face, sending a tingling sensation throughout my body, his other hand drawing me into him.

"Do you want me to stay?" he asked nervously.

"I don’t think it's a good idea," I murmured.

"It's an excellent idea.  Tell me why all of the sudden you changed your mind; I know you wanted this as much as I do just an hour ago."  His voice was soft, seductive.

"I can't compete with a dead woman," I whispered.

"Nobody is asking you to.  Just give us a chance, Ellie."

"I'm tired, Kayden, I need to go to sleep."

"Don't do this, Ellie."  A look of sadness crossed his eyes.

He took me in his arms and kissed me, but I had nothing to give.  The image of his dead wife was firmly engraved in my brain and I couldn't shake it off.  He sensed my coldness, turned away, and walked out the door. 

What the heck was he doing?  What was I doing?  We barely met a little over twenty-four hours ago and he had infiltrated every corner of my mind, not to mention that my body was listening to him much more than it was listening to me.

I could not fall asleep all night; images of Kayden kept popping up in my psyche.  I got up several times during the night and it had taken all my will power to keep me from calling him.  I needed him, wanted him, and was desperate for him to have me.  But I knew it was better to break it off before it started.  Before I was seduced by the newness of a relationship that had nowhere to go, that could give me nothing but heartache.  So rather than struggle with sleep I decided to get up and start unpacking.

As I unpacked my suitcases, images of my trip to Paris flooded my mind.  I had left Chicago after Vickie and Damien's graduation to find myself.  I could have done that from home but I needed distance to figure out who I was and what I wanted to do with my life.  My first two weeks in the city were spent in a whirlwind of visits to museums and tourist sites.  By week three I began to settle into a routine of just being in the city, walking its streets and talking to people.  It might sound like a cliché, but Paris was the best of times and the worst of times.  I loved the city as much as I thought I would.  I loved its rhythm, the elegance of its women and its history and sophistication.  But I was lonely.  It was in the city of love that I began to feel how lonely I really felt, that my soul began to yearn for real love and companionship.

It was also there that my outward transformation began.  Parisian women were not afraid to accentuate their assets and I began to look at my body in a whole new light.  At the age of forty-two, for the first time in my life, I began to think about fashion.  I had befriended a young woman from New York who worked in the fashion industry.  With her help and encouragement I began my outward transformation.  For the first time I wore a tight fitted dress and felt sexy and elegant.  By the time I left Paris I had a whole new wardrobe and it felt fantastic.

My trip to Paris had helped me grow in ways I hadn't known were possible. In some ways I was reborn in Paris, but there was so much more I needed to do to assert my independence.  A new man was not on the list.

*****

It felt good to unpack my suitcases, to organize my belongings.  I decided that Friday was going to be the day to begin to get my life in order.  It was too soon for a man, even one as amazing as Kayden.  Regardless, I was sure he felt the same way; he hadn't called me.  By twelve I was starving; I decided to call my friend Eva to see if she was available for lunch.  She was, so we agreed to meet at the same Italian restaurant where I had lunch with the kids the day before.  Life must go on.

There is nothing like going out with a girlfriend to get your life in perspective.  We ate, we laughed, and we drank way too much wine.  No advice was necessary, however she did say that if I did not want Kayden she'd be happy to take him off my hands.  As if it were that simple. The man had already permeated every part of my being, growing like a virus that I could not shake off.

Walking home from the restaurant felt wonderful.  The crisp autumn air invigorated my spirit and the sunshine gave me a burst of energy.  I wanted to stay outdoors as long as possible and convinced Eva to join me on a walk along the lake.  There were people everywhere; couples taking a stroll enjoying the outdoors before winter's arrival, young people on their bikes, runners trying to catch a few miles and just sightseers.

"You know, this is truly my favorite time of the year in the Midwest.  But I always feel a certain sense of melancholy that is hard to shake off," I told my friend, hoping that she would understand.

"The reality is that you have been alone for far too long.  You should have seen your face when you talked about Kayden; there was this glow in your eyes that I have not seen in forever," Eva responded, letting me know that she understood more than I was aware of.

"The look was probably one of desperation, or maybe I was horny."  We both laughed at my comment.

"I don't know why you are super-analyzing this; have fun with him, live a little and if you are horny what better guy to have sex with?  Lots and lots of sex.  Maybe I can live vicariously through you."

"That will be the day!  Anyway, I have the feeling that Kayden is not the type of guy for me to have casual sex with.  He is too intense, too overpowering," I responded, trying to convince myself rather than Eva. 

"Intense and overpowering makes for great sex, the kind that turns your world upside down."  Eva's comment went to the core of my fears; I may not need a man like Kayden at this time, but my body was beginning to crave him in strange ways and I was afraid of the consequences of allowing my body to guide my actions.