“Are you there?” Leah asks from the other end.
I snap out of my self-thought and tend to our conversation. “Yes, I can’t believe that bitch,” I offer, assuming whatever their fight was over, it’s best to take the bride’s side.
“I know, right?” She huffs and then I can almost hear her shaking it off. “All right, enough of that. What are you doing tonight?”
“We ordered in. We’ll probably watch a movie or something.”
Leah is quiet for a second, but it only lasts for a second. “Does he, like, live with you now?”
DoesAlexanderlive with me? He said he would. Everyday he brings over a bag of more clothes and never seems to bring any back uptown with him. All of his toiletries are in the bathroom and my kitchen is filled with enough health food to feed a commune. And cereal, he really likes cereal. The sugary kind.
I laugh to myself. He is such a contradiction. Alexander Asher is a guy who eats healthy throughout the day but loves high-sodium takeout, cheese cake, and sugary cereals at night. His eating habits reflect the two very different people that are Alexander Asher.
Alexander is a guy who loves music, plays the cello and the piano. He is soulful and desperate at times, needing connections and affection. He likes to play board games, dance and reads the funny pages when he thinks no one is looking.
Asher is serious and controlled. He works uptown and watches cable news and the stock market all day long. He drinks three thousand–dollar scotch, completesNew York Timescrosswords, gets his face professionally shaven by a master barber and controls an empire of two thousand employees.
The crazy thing is I love both sides of him. Even though I fell in love with the soulful version of him, I can’t help but be mesmerized by the controlled side of the man. He is impressive in every aspect.
Oh, man, I have hit rock bottom of the damn rabbit hole.
“Okay, you are not even paying attention to me anymore.” Leah is starting to sound irritated and rightly so. My head is so into Asher right now I can’t think straight.
We hang up just as the doorbell rings. I rush over to Alexander’s briefcase and unzip the bag. He only brings it with him when he has to bring files back and forth. His laptop has been sitting on my grandmother’s secretary desk for weeks so he can plug in while he’s here. Some of my favorite nights are when we’re curled up on the couch together, he on his laptop and me skimming through my iPad.
When the bag is fully opened, the first thing I notice is a large manila envelope.
Malory made a comment about a manila envelope. I would be lying if I haven’t been itching to know what she was talking about. I am so curious to know if this is the one she looked at. The one that made him so angry.
The bell rings again, and I rush over to the door, wallet in hand. I pay the deliveryman and tip him well, closing the door and placing the white plastic bag on the kitchen counter.
I walk back toAlexander’s briefcase and place his wallet back inside. The shower is still running. Would I be a bad girlfriend if I snooped a little? I would, God, I know I would, but he is so damn secretive. He told me to trust him. I do. But I want to be there for him in every way. If what is in the envelope is important then I want to know.
In the past, I have been known for my willpower. Hell, I went months without using the power of the Internet to look him up, and here I am caving at the site of a yellow tab folded over.
I look behind me and see the bathroom door is still closed. Turning back to the bag, I pick up the manila envelope and open the top flap.
Inside is a thick stack of papers. I lift them up slightly. They are legal documents; the heading for a lawyer’s office is at the top. I do a quick skim and see Edward Asher’s name, the name Asher Industries and Alexander Gutierrez. There are a lot of legal writings and I start to feel really uncomfortable going through Alexander’s stuff. If this is about him taking over his grandfather’s business, I don’t want anything to do with it.
I put the papers back in the envelope and then push it back into his bag. Good timing because I hear the shower water turn off. Making sure the envelope was exactly where it’s supposed to be,I notice something else in the bag. It looks like a Christmas card that has been taken out of the envelope and haphazardly thrown inside his briefcase.
We haven’t even put up a tree. I wouldn’t know where we’d put it in this tiny apartment. I lift the card and walk it over to my door where I taped the holiday greetings from my parents and Leah and a few family members who have my New York address. This will be symbolic of Alexander living here. His first Christmas card in our new place.
I notice it’s one of those picture Christmas cards where everyone is dressed up and look perfect in their professional family photo. Perfect isn’t even the right word to describe them. The family of four are sitting on the bow of a boat wearing matching sweaters. It’s pretty cheesy.
The father is a really good-looking man with dark hair and blue eyes. He is holding a little boy who looks just like him. Next to them is an equally gorgeous woman with brown hair and another little boy in her arms. The woman looks so happy and content surrounded by her perfect family.
I step back to take in the family. The Monroes. Even their names are perfect: Gabriel, Kathryn, Jackson, and Grayson.
Kathryn.
Kathryn?
You’ve got to be kidding me!
This is the second woman he ever loved. This is the woman who had an affair on her husband with Alexander.
This isKathryn!
