“Yes, I drew those, but I don’t let anyone see them…” I trail off, feeling a sudden wave of vulnerability. It’s strange. Usually, I’m more than happy to show off my work, but something about Calvin seeing my designs makes me feel exposed. Maybe it’s because I don’t know himthatwell, and he seems so serious and has a job so different from mine. I’d expect him to tease me or not understand the concept, but instead, he looks… impressed.
Noting the panic on my face, he lowers the iPad, handing it back to me, his expression softening. “Of course, I apologize,” he says as I take my iPad back, suddenly feeling guilty for overreacting. “You’re really talented,” he adds, making me blush. “Abby’s lucky to have you making her dress.”
For a moment, we’re way too close, his broad frame overwhelming me as I stand between his legs, our faces almost level. There’s a tension in the air, something thick and unspoken. I glance down, suddenly hyper-aware of the heat radiating from his body, the scent of his cologne filling the small space between us. My heart races for an entirely different reason now.
This is wrong. So wrong. I shouldn’t be doing this; in fact, I shouldn’t be anywhere near this close to him.
I step back, breaking the spell, and clear my throat to regain my composure. “Thanks,” I whisper, clutching the iPad to my chest. I clear my throat again. “I, uh, made an omelet,” I say, then cringe. I’ve made a mess out of the kitchen. Plus, he has eyes. “Do you want to try it?”
“I don’t know about…” he begins to decline, but his eyes seem torn. Understandably so. Given the mess I’ve made, I wouldn’t have high expectations in his position, either. There is no backing down now, though.
“I promise not to give you food poisoning,” I insist.
He playfully narrows his eyes at me. “That doesn’t sound as intriguing as you probably meant it to be.”
I roll my eyes. “It’s not going to kill you, I promise.”
He hesitates a second before giving in. “Sure, why not? If I do get killed… at least it will be easy to find the person behind it.” I roll my eyes once more as I hand him the plate, watching as he takes a bite. His expression remains neutral, and I bite my lip, waiting for some reaction. Finally, he swallows and gives me a small smile. “Not bad.”
I scoff, popping my hip and resting a hand on it. “Not bad? Excuse you, I worked hard for that omelet. You better try again with your answer, sir.” There it is, a moment where I let down my guard and let myself be… me. Like we’ve known each other for a long time. Maybe I didn’t work hard, but I was still expecting better praise than ‘not bad.’
Suddenly, he stands, his movement abrupt. “I should go,” he mutters, his tone shifting. He walks out of the kitchen without another word, leaving me standing there, confused and wondering what the hell just happened.
Did I offend him? I was joking… mostly.
The next morning, I sit in bed, procrastinating. I’ve been trapped in my thoughts since yesterday afternoon, in my appointed room, scared to leave in case Calvin is home again. The awkwardness from our last encounter still lingers, but if I’m being honest, what really unsettles me is the effect he has on me. I wouldn’t ever admit it, of course, and I know how messed up it is even to think such a thought, but the fact is I find him extremely attractive. The flutter in my stomach when I think of him, the way my pulse quickens, it’s confusing, and I don’t like it. I shouldn’t want to see him again.
I need a distraction, a proper one, something to guide my thoughts in a different direction. I know Ishouldget some work done, but right now, it feels so incredibly difficult to focus on it. But still, somehow, I manage to do it. I need the money, after all.
The editing process is long and tiring,but I have a standard I always stick to. That’s why my subscribers keep coming back. I try to ensure that all the right angles are captured and that the audio is synced. By the time I’m nearly finished with it, I’m happy with what it looks like. More ideas start popping into my mind.
A tour of the penthouse would be great; people would want to see this, but it feels like such an invasion of privacy. I’d most definitely have to ask for permission first, and just the thought of saying the words out loud to Calvin makes me panic on the inside.
Besides, I haven’t seen Abigail since yesterday, and while I want nothing more than to spend time with her, I know I need to be alone to think. It will be good for me, it will give me time to filter out whatever this… fascination with Calvin is doing to me.
The sound of my phone ringing saves me before I can ponder this any further. I pick up instantly when I see it, Abby calling. “Hey,” I answer, trying to sound cheerful.
“Hi, you’re up! I’m sorry we haven’t hung out as much. I’ve just been so busy.” She sighs on the other side of the line. “But I’ll make it up to you. I promise.” I feel even worse now. She’s so worried about spending time with me, while I’m trapped with thoughts that will most certainly drag me to hell.
“It’s okay. I’ve been keeping busy with sketching your dress anyway.”
“Yes, I can’t wait to see it.” Her cheerful tone is even louder now, but I can’t return it. Not with how guilty I feel. The backs of my eyes burn, but I try my best not to let any tears fall. Almost as if she can sense something isn’t right, she continues, “Blair? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I’m fine.” I hate lying to her. I could lie to my parents here and there, back when I’d sneak out in highschool, or when I wanted to buy an outfit I wasn’t supposed to have. It felt wrong, sure, but it’s never wrecked my heart like lying to Abby. We’ve always been a team, yet this is the one thing I can’t tell her about. And my heart stings just at the thought.
“You forget I know you better than you know yourself. Tell me what’s on your mind.”
I chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. She’s right. I need to put more effort into being okay. “How could I forget?” I run my fingers through my hair, gathering my thoughts. “It’s just… I’ve been thinking, wouldn’t it be better if I stayed with Mom and Dad? I can work on your dress there, and it’ll also give me some time with them. I’ve missed them so much.”
“What?” There’s an immediate hurt in her voice that makes my stomach drop. “I want to spend time with you, too. Don’t you miss me?”
“I do, of course I do,” I quickly reassure her, guilt twisting in my chest. The truth is, if Calvin weren’t a factor, I’d most definitely stay here. This room is everything I could have ever asked for, and more. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that. I love being here with you.”
I know what she’s like; she’s always had a strange thing for spending time with me. Ever since I was a child, Abigail has always been possessive of me. It’s not malicious—she gets jealous easily—but over the years, I’ve learned to work with it. Perhaps someday it will pass, but for now, I deal with it.
Relief seems to wash over her. “Good! Thank you. We’re going to have so much fun planning this wedding! Oh, by the way, do you know if Calvin is home? I keep calling him, but it goes straight to voicemail.” She sighs. “I swear, I’d sooner reach the president than him.”
The mention of Calvin sends a jolt through me. “I don’t know. I haven’t left the room today… Honestly, I think I might have offended him yesterday,” I explain, thinking about how he abruptly just left the kitchen after trying my omelet.
