Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Aspen

I snatch a glass of champagne, setting the empty one I down back on the silver tray. For the thousandth time, I pace around the ballroom. The night's lagging and I'm unable to fast forward time. If I have to stay here any longer, I'm going to become an alcoholic. Heath is working the room, finding new investors, and helping the cause. What cause was it again? Oh right, a new wing for his children's private school. Lifting my gaze, I discover another group of women whispering as they glare at me.

What is the deal with all these women giving me the stink eye? Are we twelve? I should've stayed home or gone to the movies with Anderson. Anderson, four days, and I can't decipher him. He's like a riddle, a human three-dimensional puzzle. His attitude doesn't make sense, at least not to me. That might be the reason I find myself thinking about him.

Our earlier encounter keeps playing in my head as I continue my trek around the party.

"You clean up well," Anderson complimented as he opened the door, his intense stare running up and down my body, taking in the black velvet-lace blouson dress I wore.

"Nice height too." He stared at my plum-colored lips for several beats. My heart thumped louder. "The heels are a good touch."

I angled my head slightly, lifting my foot to appreciate my sparkling Jimmy Choo pumps. My love for beautiful shoes was huge since my profession only required ugly clogs.

The attention and appreciation in his eyes flattered me and made me nervous. "I should go and check on your Mom," I stammered, heading toward the kitchen where we had the syringes, alcohol, and cotton.

"What are you up to tonight?" Washing my hands, I pretend not to hear him. "I'm guessing you're not accepting my invitation to go to the movies."

Shutting the water off and drying my hands, I turn to him. "Sorry, you were saying?"

His firm ass leans against the granite counter, his arms crossed. "Are you going out with Heathrow?"

"It's Heath, Hawthorne. Not Heathrow." I roll my eyes, walking to the cupboard where we keep Sophia's medicines. He's a man of few words, unless he's asking questions. "Yes, I'm going out with him. He invited me to a gala. I always jump at the chance for a fancy party where I can wear beautiful clothing."

Anderson's jaw tenses, his eyes filled with disappointment. "Have fun," he pushed himself off the counter, and left me standing in the kitchen.

I didn't see him after that.

"Thank you for coming with me," Heath kisses my cheek, taking the empty glass away from my hand and setting it on a table. "You look beautiful tonight."

My clutch starts to vibrate, I squeeze my eyes shut for a second. "Sorry, I have to take this, it might be the hospital."

He nods, winking at me.

Snapping my purse open, I reach for my phone.

Unknown: Are you enjoying yourself?

Me: Who is this?

Unknown: Mom wants me to learn how to knit.

Me: You have the wrong number.

Unknown: No this is the right number, Aspen.

Unknown: We painted each other's nails. Your friends are fun, not as fun as you, though. How did my night turn into a girl's slumber party?

Unknown: All this is your fault. I'm spending my evening with my mother and your best friends doing girly things.

Mother, best friends. I lift my chin, searching for Heath and feeling self-conscious about texting during the event. Heath is talking to yet another group of people a few feet away from me. He's busy, I can try to decipher who's texting me and why.

Me: Anderson?

Unknown: You owe me.

Me: At least you don't have a bunch of women giving you the evil eye and saying "she's a slut, a gold digger going after his money."

Anderson doesn't respond. Is he judging me? I recall his impassive face when I told him about the gala.

Me: Just so you know, I don't care about his money.

Why am I defending myself?

Me: I like him because he's a gentleman, a good father, and a kind person.

Me: We're not serious about each other, it's a relationship of convenience.

He doesn't respond, there's something inside me that pushes me to give him more than I should.

Me: Not financial convenience, if that's what you think. Like me, he doesn't care much about emotions. We just make sense.

Unknown: You don't believe or care for emotions, and you're with him. It doesn't make sense.

Me: I feel less secluded when I spend time with him.

Who am I kidding? It doesn't work all the time. Like tonight.

Me: Though, some days I want ...

He doesn't need to know that some days, like today, I want to end this relationship. That Heath doesn't serve his purpose. He's a distraction when I have free time and want to push away the loneliness. He's supposed to be filling my time, keeping me in the present. Instead, I find it so easy to be locked inside my head with memories of Michael. Thinking about the fundraisers for our children, their names, their births. We were supposed to grow old and die together. Fate snatched him away too early. My last therapist said I was holding onto his memory to avoid falling in love again. Of course, I fired her ass. They don't know what I do. We had a unique love. No matter who I meet, no one will ever fill the emptiness Michael left behind.

Unknown: You should do whatever you want, beautiful.

Unknown: Let me help you fix what's bothering you.

Me: You can't fix what's broken.

Unknown: Aren't you a little young to talk like there's no point in life and love?

Me: That's not what I said, but the answer is no. I'm not too young.

Me: You're assuming, maybe judging.

Unknown: No, I'm not.

Unknown: Remember that people like to believe that they know the story behind you. They like to judge what they don't know, fear, or envy. Let them talk. You know the truth, it's yours.

Unknown: See beyond the darkness, there's light around you. You just need to walk outside of the cave.

Me : Those are too many sentences for a guy like you. I wish I'd heard you saying them.

"Aspen?" Heath's voice pulls me out of the conversation. I had forgotten where I was and who I was with.

"Yeah?"

"We have to go. Kelsey called me. Ginger isn't feeling well. She has an upset stomach." Looking around the room and the women staring at me, I wonder how much of this story is true. This isn't the first time Kelsey needs Heath's "help" while on a date. Instead of being angry, I'm relieved. Next time, I should stay home.

During our drive, Heath was on the phone with Kelsey. She grumbled about her night. Ginger had been complaining about her stomach since Heath dropped her at Kelsey's house. I had no idea that Heath had gotten more time with his children. Not that we discuss his family situation. What do we discuss? Our shallow relationship sounds like a major disaster ever since I texted Anderson about it.

Should I step outside my comfort zone and give Heath a chance? Can we fall in love?

Heath has everything going for him. He's handsome with that dark hair and piercing dark blue eyes as contrast. He has a rocking, lean body with sculpted muscles. For a forty-two-year-old, he looks no older than thirty-five. He's successful, has a sense of humor, is intelligent…

But my heart is in heaven, with Michael. That's why I can't fall in love.

"Rain check?" Heath opens the door of his car, taking my hand as he helps me out of it. My boyfriend is a gentleman. He is a catch.

See beyond the darkness, Anderson wrote.

"Sparkling water, crackers," I advise as we walk to my door.

"Again, sorry for cutting this short." Heath kisses me on the cheek.

I almost open my mouth and ask if he wants me to go with him. I stop; not sure if it's the fear of rejection or the panic of being closer to Heath and his children. Feelings are messy. When there's loss, the mayhem they create is like a category five hurricane. It took me years to survive the first one.

"Please, don't mention it. I've canceled on you so many times."

We stop in front of my door. "I'm a lucky guy." He cups my chin, his dark blue eyes smiling. "You're beautiful, understanding, and smart?—"

"Sorry, am I interrupting something?" I jolt with the sound of Anderson's voice, taking a step backward, away from Heath's touch.

Anderson carries a brown paper bag. "Mom gave me this for you ladies." He studies Heath as I take whatever he brought from his hands.

"Anderson Hawkins." He extends his hand, Heath shakes his introducing himself too. "Heath Foster, pleased to meet you."

"Penny, I'm leaving," Heath says, his eyes trained on Anderson who stands a few steps away from us, his hands propped on his hips and his eyes fixed on me, making my heart beat faster than normal and my body giddy like a teenager.

"I'll call you when Ginger is asleep." Heath brushes my lips with his.

"Yes, let me know how she's doing." I smile at him, disconnecting my gaze from Anderson's and waving at Heath.

Anderson and I stand side by side, watching Heath walk to his black sedan and drive away.

"Even Cinderella stayed longer at the ball than you. What happened?" Anderson asks as the tail lights disappear.

"His daughter wasn't feeling well." I open the paper bag, pulling out a jar filled with light blue, lilac, and pink M laugh it off. It doesn't mean a thing . "And here I thought you had broken into the shop for me."

A smile plays on his face. "Really?" He narrows his gaze, observing me. Did he notice my astonishment? Can he see what his voice and his actions are doing to me?

"Yeah." I touch my temple. "The whole Mission Impossible scene where Tom barely hangs from a rope and he almost triggers the alarm with a drop of sweat."

He laughs reaching for the jar. I playfully push him with the lid. "Stay away from my candy." … and from me.

"Sharing is caring."

"I don't share chocolate." I wink at him taking a few light blue ones and placing them in the palm of his hand. Our skin touches, producing a current of electricity. Cut this short, go back to your room. "Sorry for the intense text."

He cocks his head to the side, shifting his eyes from the jar to me. "Do you wanna go out for a ride?" His mellow voice is a warm sensation enveloping every cell of my body. He eats the chocolates I give him, waiting for an answer. "Drove the bike tonight."

I look down at my outfit and the lovely heels I wore.

"Did I mention that you look beautiful tonight?" He takes the jar away from me but not his gaze. "Did you dance?"

"He was too busy chatting around." The gala wasn't fun, and I would have preferred to be at home hanging out with my friends and Sophia.

"Do you hear that?" He touches his ear, setting the stuff he carries on the porch couch. "May I have this dance?"

Anderson doesn't wait for me to respond. He takes my left hand, brushing my knuckles with his mouth. His other arm goes around my back and he pulls me to his chest. "Relax and let me lead, just follow the music."

I don't hear music but I relax, resting my head on his chest. We sway slowly to our own rhythm, our own tune; some beat I can't hear, but it's catchy and soothing. Driving sounded great —dancing enveloped by his strong arms and surrounded by the whiff of his woodsy aroma is a thousand times better. Tonight, I don't feel lonely or incomplete.