Opulence (4 page)

"Thirty-seven years, ma’am," he answered without hesitation.

"Wow, impressive," I said with a smile. We sat in silence for a few minutes before my stomach started rumbling loudly. I turned to Carson with sudden excitement. "I haven’t eaten a carb in two years. Take me to Wendy’s."

Carson looked at me with surprise.

"Wendy’s!" I ordered enthusiastically with my fist in the air.

"Yes, ma’am," he replied with a chuckle.

"Sorry to burden you on your night off," I apologized sheepishly. "You can take tomorrow."

"Oh, that’s alright. Wasn’t in the mood for a TIVO’ed marathon of
Dancing with the Stars
," he said, letting me know I had saved him the trouble of arguing with his wife on what to watch.

"Married life, I remember that," I said, recalling fondly just the simple act of watching TV with Ryan when we were first married. That seemed light years ago.

Maybe I should just get away from Charleston for a while. I had already been to every single bucket list destination I’d wanted to visit. I hadn’t exactly been a world explorer, but I had seen enough to be satisfied.

"If I may say, Miss, you seem...off," he said.

"Carson, I’m so screwed up," I conceded, "and it’s more than a beer or two. I don’t know what the hell to do. My old life disappeared and my new one doesn’t suit me, either. I’m not sure where I belong anymore." I didn’t know why I was confiding in Carson. Maybe I just needed to verbalize the truth.

He glanced over at me as if he understood, but stayed silent for several moments.

"Maybe I should take a trip," I muttered absently.

"You’ll end up back home," he said, taking the turn into Wendy’s. I understood what he was trying to say: my issues would still be waiting for me when I got back. Instead of answering, I opted for clapping in excitement.

"The biggest, I mean
biggest
cheeseburger possible. Fries. Large, Carson." I tapped on his shoulder excitedly. Why had I denied myself for so long? "And a big ass frosty! Yes! And whatever you want!" I couldn’t believe my excitement at ordering fast food. When we got to the window, I checked my pockets, realizing I had given Dave all my cash and that my credit cards were in my soon to be towed car.

Shit.

"This one is on me, Miss," Carson said with humor as he grabbed the bag then handed the cashier a twenty.

Yep, it’s amazing what money could do.

I
moaned, still buzzed, and completely fascinated with my cheeseburger. I groaned minutes later when my feast was finished. My phone rang as I walked into my house and I answered, not bothering to look at the caller ID in my carb stupor, then heard my mother’s voice.

"Hey, Ninabelle, how are you?"

"Mom, I’m tied up in a meeting, can I call you tomorrow?" I asked, feeling bad for my lie, and quickly adding, "Everything okay? Dad okay?"

"Yes, baby, we’re fine. We miss you," she said sadly, tugging at my heart.

"Let’s do lunch on Friday. I’ll take you both," I offered.

"Your father has a tee off time around lunch, but I can come." I knew it was bullshit. She didn’t want him to come, plain and simple. I would have to make a point to spend time with him separately.

"Okay, I’ll pick you up, and call before I come," I said, adding an I love you before hanging up. Drunk on the phone with mom and lusting after a bar band, front man...what a day! I laughed as I undressed and crawled into bed in just my underwear, reveling in the ridiculously comfortable sheets.

My phone rang again from my bedside table, but this time I hit ignore, freezing in place when I looked at the screen.

Missed Call: Aiden.

Slick.

I couldn’t help the slow smile that graced my lips, or the quickening of my heart.

A text came through a few moments later.

Aiden:
You ignored my call. That’s just wrong. You wouldn’t even have that phone if it wasn’t for me.

Sitting up, I crossed my legs Indian style as I contemplated whether or not to call him back. Just that morning I had rid myself of a man who had been just as tempting. The pain that shot through my chest was enough to make me drop my phone, and I swallowed the lump that was threatening to emerge. I had cried for months over Devin. I had just freed myself.

Climbing out of bed, I turned off the lights and opened the door to my balcony, listening to the now familiar and soothing sound of the waves. It was just cool enough to keep me sated. Half an hour later, I once again lay in bed, but sleep would not come and I sat up, staring at my phone. Aiden may be nothing like the bastard I had just freed myself from, but I learned a long time ago I didn’t have to have a Mr. Forever. It made absolutely no sense whatsoever for me to deny myself. Devin sure as hell hadn’t shed a single tear over me. Aiden could be a welcomed distraction from my aching heart. Deciding not to dwell on a simple text, I typed a short reply then hit send.

Nina:
Sorry, I was on a call.

I exhaled and sat back, waiting to see if he would respond. What the hell was I doing? Moving on, I guess?

Aiden:
I have to know your name.

Nina:
Why?

Aiden:
Come on, it’s a name. I already have your number.

Nina:
Well it wasn’t given to you.

Aiden:
I only had time to program mine in and text myself. I didn’t have time to snoop around. But I will track you down.

Nina:
There were at least twenty females in there tonight willing to give you more than their number. I’m sure they would be happy to give you their name and chant yours over and over.

Aiden:
I saw you yesterday at the beach and then tonight at my bar. Are you sure you aren’t one of those women?

I knew I had heard that voice. My songbird, of course!

Nina:
Nina

Aiden:
Finally. For someone who thinks about fucking you sure are hard pressed to give up your name
.

Nina:
Funny.

Aiden:
Where are you? It’s only ten o’clock.

Nina:
In bed, safe, thank you, and very comfortable.

Aiden:
Come see me on Thursday.

I laughed. This man really thought he had game.

Nina:
I’ll think about it.

Aiden:
You should...you know, after you’re done thinking about fucking.

I laughed out loud again.

Nina:
Are you going to let that go?

Aiden:
I’ll think about it. See you Thursday, naughty girl.

Cocky too, nice.

And for a few minutes before I drifted to sleep I did think about fucking. Those eyes, those amazing eyes and that voice...But those eyes, they weren’t orange but...amber, the color of a low lit fire. His lips were perfectly plumped symmetry, and his smile was insanely boyish, yet his body language screamed all man. My God, just looking at that man had me completely unraveled. I felt giddy and excited, having butterflies for the first time...well, since Devin.

I immediately wished I hadn’t texted him.

It was just word play. It meant nothing.

But that voice, it had a hint of southern drawl and was so deep, not baritone, but just right. Up close, he had strong features, and was so completely beautiful. Way too flawless. I needed to find one. Next time I saw him, I would make sure to find one.

Next time?

I prayed for sleep to take me. Then I prayed harder that Devin was in some strange universe, sad about the end of us, though I knew better. Was I that insignificant? My husband shed me so easily. Then a man who I’d been screwing for the better part of a year didn’t care enough about me to say one word to keep our fucked up arrangement going.

I let the tears finally fall, exhausting myself. That’s what I had to do to finally get some sleep.

Wow, it had been a while since I’d been hung over. I sure as shit could not get away with drinking so much anymore. I cursed as my doorbell rang then answered it in my soft suit of sweats.

"Wow," Taylor said, quickly pushing past me with two coffees and a paper bag in hand.

"Taylor, I told you I was fine," I said, turning to look at her after shutting the door.

"Why don’t you have a butler or something?" she asked as she rounded my kitchen counter and pulled up a stool.

"I like my privacy," I said, taking the cup she offered as I approached her. I had a service come once a week, but my choice to have a house this size without a staff was out of pure paranoia. Devin and I were very indiscreet sexually and often we would meet in my home. I was too afraid we would have an audience.

Don’t have to worry about that now. And now my house is tainted.

"Well, I figured when we got off the phone you would hit the bottle hard." She chuckled as she slathered cream cheese on a bagel before taking a bite. She pushed the bag toward me and I cringed.

"No thanks," I said, taking a large sip of my tasteless, non-fat latte.

"You know the saying to get over one man you need to get under another?" Taylor said, absently sipping her latte as she eyed my reaction.

I smiled and shook my head in astonishment. "Is that what works for you?" I asked, curious.

"There is absolutely nothing a man can do for me but get me off, and even then he has to contend with me on quality, because I can do that for myself as well." She winked. I stood there open mouthed as she laughed before taking another sip of her coffee.

"Wow, you’ve never been attached?" I asked, completely awestruck.

"I’ve never met my equal, but I look for him," she said in a tone, as if to dismiss the conversation. "Now, I would love to tell you that I will leave you in your misery, but besides the obvious suicide watch, I am here on business." She opened a large folder and pulled out a stack of papers requiring my signature, eliciting a frustrated groan from me.

We spent the better part of the day pouring over it. I never signed a damn thing I didn’t fully understand.

After Taylor left, I lay in bed the rest of the day, telling myself that it wasn’t a pity party, that I was simply recovering from a horrific hangover.

I no longer had lunch at the anchor club on Thursdays. I no longer had Fridays at the Preservation Society. There would be no charity functions to collaborate on. And though I had dreaded most of those events, I now had a completely clear social calendar and nothing to look forward to.

Well, maybe one thing.

Aiden:
See you tomorrow. Any requests?

Aiden.

I fell asleep with a smile on my face.

The next morning, I awoke feeling refreshed and renewed. I spent an hour in my own personal hell—the gym—working off the prior evening’s indulgence. I had worked incredibly hard on my body the last three years, losing twenty pounds and toning it into a figure I was proud of. It was one habit I refused to part with, and though I hated every minute, I loved the results.

Around nightfall I slipped into a sexy, light blue, slink dress and matching heeled sandals after spending a large amount of time lathering my skin in clean smelling moisturizer. I left my hair down in soft waves, dusted my eyes with a smoky, dark brown shadow, and finished with a simple clear gloss.

Walking into the bar, I was a complete and utter bundle of nerves as soon as I heard Aiden’s voice. He was singing Eric Clapton’s "Layla." I made it a point not to look at him as I walked in, taking the closest seat to the entrance and glancing up to see Dave.

"Decide to stay a little longer?" Dave asked with a smile, though his eyes raked me with inappropriate appreciation.

I did wear this dress.

"Something like that," I said absently. He turned to pour my draft and I shook my head quickly. "How about a vodka, soda with a lime, please."

"Sure thing." He looked at me oddly, as if he wasn’t seeing the same person. That made two of us. After taking two very big sips of my drink, my eyes wandered to the stage. Aiden was sitting on a stool playing guitar, and completely surrounded by eager women. As soon as I drank in his black, long sleeved, cuffed shirt, dark jeans, and motorcycle boots, my eyes shot up to his face. He was staring dead at me as he sang. I smiled and drained my drink, letting the hard liquor soothe my nerves.