The art of awkward affec.., p.13
The Art of Awkward Affection: A Romantic Comedy, page 13
“Oh, don’t make that face, Lexi. You haven’t told us about anything interesting you girls are doing.”
“It’s just the weather’s not great right now,” I said. “It rains a lot.”
“It will clear up,” Dad said assuredly. “It can’t rain forever. Eventually the sun will come out.”
My mom leaned forward. “Are you bringing a Prince Charming home anytime soon?”
“Don’t ask her that. We want you to find your happily ever after in whatever way works for you,” my dad assured me.
“Your dad and I met when we worked at Disney and were about your age,” my mom gushed.
“But no rush,” my dad added. “You can just concentrate on doing the best you can at your new job.”
“She can’t work too hard; she won’t have time to find her Prince Charming!” My mom swatted him lightly.
“Don’t lower your standards,” my dad added. “You deserve the best!”
And here I had lowered my standards just by taking a job that would support my high-end sticker habit.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“We’re making things awkward,” my mom hissed at my dad. “Don’t you hear her getting upset?”
I cleared my throat.
“I’m fine.”
“Squeaky Mouse, we’re sorry.” My dad looked crushed.
“It’s fine,” I said. “I love you guys. I have to get some more work done.”
“You work too hard,” my mom chided me.
“Yeah, it’s hard to lie around in your bikini all day,” Grenadine whispered.
Cursed studio apartments.
“You show them that you’re the best gosh-darn communicator out there.” My dad swung his fist. “You’ll be running the Richmond Electric PR department in no time.”
“We love you!”
“So much! You’re our pride and joy.”
“Give Gizzy a hug from us.” My mom blew me a kiss.
“Enjoy the oranges. They’re a little taste of home.” My parents waved happily.
I kept the smile plastered on my face as I hung up, then slumped over dejectedly.
“I’m a terrible person.”
“You’re a woman on the edge.” McKenna patted my arm.
“You should have just shucked off the swimsuit and told that boss of yours to lick your taint.” Grenadine hooted.
“Grenadine, how much of that wine did you drink?” I frowned.
“Also, where did you get that? We don’t have money for you to be hitting up the wine shop. This is expensive wine. Anthym had Lexi buy this as a gift for the Christmas baskets Richmond Electric sent out.” McKenna clicked her tongue.
“I took a page out of Lexi’s book,” Grenadine cackled. “Paid a bunch of compliments to a guy—really stroked his ego, and he offered to take me shopping.”
“That’s not …” I sighed and shook my head.
“The power of compliments, I guess,” McKenna remarked. “Maybe I need to start being more friendly.”
“Also I gave him a blow job, so your mileage may vary.” Grenadine shrugged.
“Lordy.”
I used a pair of scissors to open up the box, revealing a crate of lovingly packed oranges. Plump and round, they smelled like sunshine, citrus, and home.
Grayson might never have had a home.
I felt awful.
He needed some oranges to brighten his day. There was nothing like a fruit basket to bring a smile to someone’s face.
I climbed up on the counter to fish a wicker basket off from on top of the cabinets then grabbed a rag to dust it off.
“Don’t give him all of them. I wanted to make sangria. I have all this red wine,” Grenadine complained.
“How much wine did this guy give you?” I asked as I packed the basket with oranges and colorful pink tissue paper then tied a big gingham bow on it.
“Several bottles. He said it was the first blow job he’d had in a decade, and he was really impressed I could take out my teeth and give him the full effect.”
McKenna slowly poured herself wine.
“Maybe Grayson will fall in love with you and let you move into his penthouse and bring a friend?” she said weakly.
“Oooh! I want to live in a penthouse!” Grenadine perked up.
“A single, solitary friend.”
“Just for that, I’m not sharing my wine.” Grenadine sniffed.
I wrote a quick note then dug into the Ikea bag that functioned as my closet.
“I’m taking these to Grayson,” I said, shimmying out of my skirt and pulling on some leggings.
It was raining again when I stepped outside. It wasn’t romantic and warm Florida rain. This was cold and depressing. I held the basket close to me. I had covered it with a tea towel with—get this—a dancing Chip and Mrs. Potts design on it, but it wasn’t doing a whole lot against the rain.
The basket bounced awkwardly against my thigh, and my arm ached as I headed toward Grayson’s penthouse. If my conversation with my parents hadn’t been a complete lie and I had actually had a real job, I would have just sprung for an Uber.
I was switching the heavy basket to my other arm when a white van pulled up.
There was a moment of apprehension—it’s just Grayson getting to you—then the passenger-side window rolled down.
“Hey,” a man called from the dark depths of the van, “it’s the pretty redhead who said she liked my shirt last week. You remember me? Alfie? Let me give you a ride. It’s nasty weather out there.”
Something prickled at me.
Maybe I shouldn’t get in this big white van …
“Where ya headed?” The man was loudly chewing gum.
“Probably out of your way,” I said with a smile.
“Not a problem. I can take youse wherever you need to get to.”
“It’s about five blocks back that way,” I said, shifting the basket.
“Door’s unlocked. Just hop in.”
For some reason, my heart was racing. But the basket was awkward, and the rain was falling more heavily.
It’s fine. You can text McKenna that you got a ride so someone knows where you are. It’s not a big deal. He’s just being friendly.
I reached for the door handle.
Alfie smiled.
“Don’t you fucking touch that door,” a deep voice growled right before a large hand grabbed me, jerking me back.
I screamed and dropped the basket of oranges. Then I was face-to-face with Grayson Richmond.
“Why are you out here in the middle of the night? Why don’t you have any sense of self-preservation?” he shouted at me. The tendons on his neck bulged. He was furious. He shook me roughly by the shoulders, making my teeth clack together.
“Do you have idea what could happen to you?”
I had already been discombobulated the entire day, and this sent me over the edge.
“I don’t know, maybe I could have been accosted and manhandled by a large, angry male?”
“This isn’t funny, Lexi,” he said through bared teeth.
“I’m not joking; you’re out of control.”
“That’s it. You’re coming with me, right now.”
He grabbed my arm.
I shook him off. “No thanks.”
“Do as I say.”
“Hey! Stop yelling at her,” Alfie demanded.
Grayson turned on him, something feral and animalistic in his green eyes.
Alfie yelped as Grayson latched onto the side of the passenger window. The metal of the door creaked.
“You better keep the fuck driving,” Grayson said, the promise of violence laced in his words.
“Sure thing, mister.” Alfie floored the gas, and Grayson jumped back.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I backed away from him.
“You don’t understand,” he said, lips thinned.
“No, I get it,” I shot at him. “You keep calling me crazy, except you’re the one that’s crazy. You need help.”
I was still backing away.
Grayson advanced, singly focused on me. It was unnerving.
“You have to come with me where it’s safe,” he crooned. “I’m not going to hurt you, Lexi.”
I knew he wasn’t—knew that he wasn’t his father, but between his anger and the cold and the look in his eyes when he had shaken me, I was spooked.
“I’m going home, Grayson, and you should too.”
“No.” He shook his head again. “No, I can’t. I can’t.”
I backed away a few more paces then turned.
“Don’t follow me.”
26
GRAYSON
I picked up the basket and watched Lexi. Every instinct in me wanted me to follow her, to protect her.
“Your instincts are corrupted,” I reminded myself.
And yet …
I kept walking, but not home.
I saw her at the end of the block when I turned a corner. I trailed her east, keeping her in my sights, but not letting her notice me.
Anyone who saw me would just think I was someone carrying home their groceries.
I trailed Lexi to a run-down apartment building. After watching to make sure she made it inside safely, I was finally able to relax and force my feet to take me home.
When I returned to my study, I sent an email to Anthym informing her that I’d decided to take a surprise visit to our southeastern plants and had her arrange the plane and hotel.
I didn’t want Lexi to feel uncomfortable in the office around me, but more than that, I didn’t trust myself around her, didn’t trust myself to be able to sit in my office and pretend to be normal while she was just outside the glass, perched on her desk, bringing me snacks, leaving me notes. And I definitely couldn’t risk surprising her in the penthouse again.
Work was exactly what I needed to take my mind off of Lexi Collins.
When I returned to Manhattan three days later, all the memories came flooding back as soon as I stepped through the door. I sighed heavily as I set my bag down. Part of me wished I was coming home to a dog or something, anything other than the empty penthouse.
Terrible idea. You destroy anything you love.
But maybe Lexi was right and I should buy some more furniture.
I wondered if she’d been there while I’d been gone. I closed my eyes and breathed in, wondering if I could taste her, the faint smell of salt, sand, citrus, and sunshine.
Well, I smelled the citrus.
The basket of oranges was sitting on the counter. I unpacked them, wondering if they were rotten. But the fruit was perfectly ripe; the smell of citrus flooded the kitchen.
I picked up the note on top of the oranges, frowning, and flipped it over.
To Grayson, it said in Lexi’s loopy cursive. She’d gone with a sparkly orange pen this time.
I’m sorry. Please enjoy these oranges sent all the way from Dudley Grove from my family’s orchard. Hope this taste of Florida sunshine chases off all the very unpositive, uncharitable vibes from me.
*Heart* Lexi
I picked up an orange and peeled it. The juice ran over my fingers as I pried off a segment and took a bite, and the sweet citrus flavor exploded in my mouth. It was the most amazing thing I’d ever eaten. I didn’t think I would ever be able to eat another orange after that. It was like eating pure sunshine, and it tasted like what I imagined kissing Lexi might taste like.
You can’t think about that.
Except that I could easily.
I could imagine her mouth as plump as the fruit from her home state, how sweet she’d taste as I run my tongue over her lips.
Dangerous territory.
But kissing Lexi didn’t feel dangerous as I closed my eyes and imagined it. It felt like salvation.
I finished off the fruit and washed my hands. The scent still lingered.
I should answer emails, work out, or go into the office, but all I wanted to do was be with her.
I grabbed two oranges then my keys, with only a half-baked excuse formed for what I was going to say when I showed up at her apartment building.
But I didn’t make it that far. I saw Lexi about halfway on the drive to her building, walking in the opposite direction. I circled the block then pulled up beside her and rolled down the window.
“Lexi.”
She ignored me.
“Lexi, get in,” I begged.
She turned her head slightly, pursed her mouth, then kept walking.
“Lexi, I’m sorry,” I called. “Can you please just get in the car?”
“Ooh, no can do. See, my crazy, paranoid, aggressive boss doesn’t let me take rides from strangers.”
“He sounds like a real asshole,” I said, driving slowly to keep pace with her.
“You need to watch the road,” she told me.
I cursed as I almost hit an Amazon delivery truck.
“Lexi, can we please talk?”
“Can’t talk to strangers,” she replied.
After turning on my hazards, I double-parked and raced around the front of the car. I stepped in front of her to block her path.
“Excuse me.” She glared at me.
“Lexi, please talk to me.”
“I have pepper spray,” she yelled, holding up a small pink canister.
“Very mature.”
“And it’s also very mature to attack and threaten someone when they’re trying to be nice.”
“That man wasn’t trying to be nice,” I snarled.
“You don’t know that.” She was infuriatingly stubborn.
“And you don’t know that man at all.”
“Yes,” she said, “I gave Alfie a compliment, and he offered me a ride.”
I crossed my arms. “What’s his last name?”
“Well, um … Russo?”
“Uh-huh. Phone number?”
“727—”
“That’s a Florida area code.” I cut her off.
“Jiminy Cricket.”
“That’s what I thought.” I took her elbow.
She shrugged me off. “I’ll just walk.”
I had enough of it.
“I’m trying to look out for you.” I picked her up around the waist and physically carried her to my car.
“No, you’re not. You’re giving in to paranoia and negative thoughts.”
I opened up the back door and stuffed her in the car.
Her phone immediately connected to the sound system, and “A Whole New World” started blaring out of the speakers.
“Listen,” I said, turning around in the driver’s seat to look at her. “If you really want to walk, you can. Or I can drive you somewhere.”
“A billionaire moonlighting as an Uber driver on the weekend. I hope your shareholders don’t know you’re hurting for cash.” She clambered over the center console.
She was wearing black leggings, ballet flats, and a loose bright-purple sweater over a long pink tunic top that displayed the menagerie of Disney princesses. Some of her hair had escaped the ponytail, and she lifted her arms to pull out the sparkly scrunchie and comb her fingers through her red curls as she retied her hair up.
The image of her, her arms extended above her head as she basked in the sun, reappeared.
“If you wanted to come to see me, you should have just called last night,” I said, voice sounding harsh to my ears.
“Didn’t know if you’d pick up,” she said. “Besides, it was an apology present. You can’t just call the person you’re trying to give an apology to and ask for a ride.”
I strangled a snarl.
“You could have been hurt.”
“The only person who has thrown me into a car and kidnapped me is you,” she said tartly. “Twice, I might add.”
It was crushing.
Her face softened. “Sorry, that’s a low blow.”
My stomach sank. She knew.
“I, uh … Sorry, I looked you up,” she admitted.
Of course people will know. I don’t know why you lie to yourself. On the internet, everything is forever, after all.
I didn’t say anything.
“That sounds like a difficult … experience … what you went through,” she continued softly.
“My mom had it worse,” I said, looking out the window. I wished it would rain to match my mood, but the sun was shining like spring was trying to sweep out the last remnants of winter.
“I don’t have any right to complain.” I started the car and headed in the direction Lexi had been walking.
The voices of singing cartoon characters swirled like a barrier between us.
Or maybe it was just me. Lexi was tapping her foot along with the music.
“I didn’t know you were throwing it away,” I said abruptly.
She turned down the radio to look at me.
“That was not what was supposed to happen. With the food, I mean,” I said in a rush. “I didn’t want it thrown away. I just …”
“I understand.” There was pity on her face.
I’d tried to go on a date once in college. Marius had insisted, said I needed to put myself out there. It was the friend of the girl he was dating at the time.
“Her friends all say she’s weird, and you’re a little weird, so maybe this is meant to be,” Marius had told me cheerfully.
Except her weird had been an obsession with cold cases and serial killers, and when I gave her my last name, her eyes had bugged out. Then her face had gotten that pitying look that Lexi now wore, and I had made an excuse that I’d forgotten a homework assignment and stood up and left the date.
I hunched my shoulders, waiting for the pity to give way to disgust.
But instead Lexi winked at me over the top of her sunglasses.
“Then I am happy to report that I’ve actually been stealing the food in your fridge and giving it to the people in my building. They’re on fixed incomes, and there’s a single mom living there with her disabled kids.”
“Oh thank god.” I relaxed and sat back in my seat, feeling irrationally happy.
“Not to mention, before I arrived, I think Mrs. Ortega was rehoming the food. Anthym might have thrown some of it away, but you know, not all of it.”
“Okay, good.”
“Everyone in my building is very appreciative. You really helped a lot of people.” She patted my hand.
