"No, I don't think so," I shook my head. "Definitely not recently, anyway." I couldn't imagine Maria wanting anything to do with Simon, and I had been around the couple long enough to know that she wasn't part of their crew.
"So the likelihood of this affecting her is slim to none."
I flicked my eyes away. "Well, yes."
"And the last time you two spoke, she made it clear that she didn't want any contact from you."
A sinkhole formed in my chest. "Yes," I quietly confirmed.
Her slight smile of sympathy did nothing to lessen the crack in my gut. The wind had been swiftly pulled from my sails. "Then I would honor her wishes. Brian, this just sounds like an excuse for you to talk to her." I winced at her assessment, and a red flare of shame crept up my cheeks. But I couldn't deny it.
"She doesn't need to know that you had an altercation with Simon," she continued, speaking gently at my crestfallen expression. "I know you want to let her know you defended her honor, but it serves her no purpose."
And fuck it all to hell if she hadn't been right. I was thankful she knocked some sense into me because Lord knew it would've added to the pile of fuck ups where Maria was concerned.
But now, staring at these twelve words on my screen, I felt my sails flare out again. The crater started to fill.
Fuck! She had sent it almost an hour ago. The time-lapse wasn't big, but I still didn't want her to think I was ignoring her. Instead of replying, I immediately called her.
"Hello?"
Her husky answer was like a cool spring on a boiling day. I heard her voice numerous times through her social media videos, but hearing her speak through a pre-recorded video always made her voice seem modulated. It was missing the nuanced vibrancy that only her live voice could provide.
"Hey, Maria. I got your text." Obviously. "Sorry, my phone was charging, and I only saw your message now." A little white lie, but necessary.
I heard her shift around, and I wondered where she was. Was she working late again, trying to keep up with her flourishing business? Was she still locking up by herself?
"Where are you?" I suddenly needed to know.
There was a small pause before she answered. "At home."
Good.
But now, my imagination was replaced with visions of Maria in her intimate space. I could picture her lounging in an oversized shirt and shorts—maybe with a glass of wine and watching TV. The image of simple domesticity was more alluring than picturing her in lingerie.
"Is everything alright?"
"Yeah, I'm fine." I felt her pause again before she tacked on, "And you?" Her tone told me she didn't care to know, but I grasped onto our small talk.
"I'm good. Good."Better after hearing you.But I wisely kept quiet.
Her quiet sigh came down the line. "Listen, I'll just get to the point. Have you spoken with Simon?"
My gut dropped, and my hand whitened around my phone. Why the fuck was she talking about him? Were they still in contact?
"No. Not recently, anyway," I amended. I decided to be honest. "I did see him at Eden's mom's engagement party a couple of weeks ago."
"Yeah, I heard." Her voice was flat and impersonal. I could feel the cracks reforming. "I didn't know that you knew Eden that well. Or Simon, for that matter."
I ran a hand through my damp hair. "Yeah, I met Eden and Simon through Sofia. Wait, how did you know I was at the party?"
"There were pictures taken of you during the night. I did hair and makeup for someone who attended."
I almost said: "I know," but I stopped myself just in time. She didn't need to know that she had acquired a stalker.
"That's a long story, though," she continued. "But I also heard you were there through Simon. I heard you had a conversation with him." There was an accusatory pitch to her comment.
Fuck! This was probably the one time Dr. Grant had given me dud advice. Maria didn't sound too impressed, and I wondered what Simon had said to her. Did he paint me out to be an aggressive villain?
