ASTRID
“A welcome party? I thought you said it was a business party. What changed? Do I have to review another list?” I press my cell phone tightly against my ear as my mother chuckles at the other end, taking way too long to answer my question. I worked on the list last night like I intended and emailed it back to her only to have her call me about changing the theme.
“yes. It’s going to be small–and–intimate. Your dad’s best friend has been away since you were little. We lost count, baby, and now, he’s back in town and your father wants to officially welcome him.”
“Can’t they go for drinks or something? A party sounds like a lot if you ask me, Mom.”
“Well, I’m not. All we need you to do is show up. You have to meet the man your father grew up with.”
Oh God!
“Is that necessary?”
I can picture her rolling her eyes. “It’s just a party, Astrid, not a death sentence. You used to love parties, what happened to you?”
“I was a teenager and I didn’t have to work. Now I have deadlines, and I have to work hard if I’m to earn a promotion this year.”
“As I’ve said, don’t stress it too hard.”
“I’m just doing what I can, Mom. I’m fine.”
There’s a short pause and then she sighs. Today’s Wednesday. The party is on Friday and knowing my parents, they won’t stop nagging until I give in and attend the party.
“Tristan will be there. I’m going to invite his parents too. I miss that man of yours.”
Holy crap!
“Mom, I thought you said it’s going to be, um, small, intimate. That means just close family and friends, right?”
“Tristan is family. Both of you will be talking about marriage soon. Isn’t that right?”
Marriage? Sweat moistens my armpit. “I’ll check my schedule.”
“The party is at 9 pm. Do you work at night now?”
I almost groan. I don’t really see any reason I have to be at the party. The man is my dad’s best friend, not mine. What will I say to him?
“We’ll be expecting you and make sure you show up early.”
Before I can form the perfect response she hangs up and the click echoes in my ears minutes after she’s gone.
I pull up in front of the cafe and put the Camry in park. It’s lunchtime. I have about an hour to spare before meeting Mr. Pete to go over the budget I’ve drawn for the next project the company is embarking on. I rest my hands on the steering wheel and stare at the small building. It’s pretty busy as people stroll in for lunch.
There’s a well–tended garden besides the building. Kids are playing in the field, their laughter ringing out and drowning out the sound of the soft music filtering from the cafe. I smile, recalling when was their age and I used to love the outdoors a lot. Dad has this cottage on an Island down in Miami. The Woods behind it was my favorite place. I spent hours there reading, meditating, and daydreaming about anything and everything.
“Now nothing matters anymore,” I say aloud, shifting my gaze from the kids to the entrance door of the cafe. My mind snaps as a man with a familiar build steps out, his arms wrapped around a brunette.
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Thold the door handle, eyes glued to the woman he’s with. That night he told me I’m the first woman he’s been with after his wife’s death. And I believed him. I fucking believed everything he said.
She laughs and pats his arms with a sultry smile. My grip on the steering wheel tightens. Blast him! I push the door open as they get closer to where my car is packed, probably going to their car. The second I step out they stop as they were walking pretty close to my car.
“Hey, watch out!” The woman sneers
Tignore her and raise my gaze to the man’s face. I don’t know what I’m thinking but I have a few questions to ask him. He toyed with my emotions – made me believe I was going to see him again.
He smiles and places his hand on the woman’s back as if he’s holding her back from attacking me. I scoff at the thought of having some crazy woman scratch at my face with her ridiculously long nails.
“Darling, it’s our fault. We walked way too close to her car.”
She rolls her eyes at him but says nothing. When the man smiles, I realize I’m mistaken. I flash them an apologetic smile and then walk towards the doors. I can’t believe I almost embarrassed myself over a man that doesn’t want me.
How pathetic.
I wrap my arms around my belly, wishing I could undo the last three minutes of my life. What if I had blurted out the angry words boiling at the pit of my
stomach? Fuck!
I cross the huge room to a table overlooking the garden. The place has a collection of small tables and wooden chairs. At the front of the room is a large glass counter with a man behind it. He’s taking orders and barking them to those in the back room if what the customer wants isn’t in the showcase. The sweet aroma of coffee and freshly baked cookies permeates the air. I inhale, closing my eyes as it fills my lungs.
There’s a small line. I need to catch my breath first before going over to place my order. Sam, the
owner, is going around to check on her patrons. For a second, her eyes meet mine and she flashes me a large grin. I return it and relax my back on the wooden chair.
“Astrid Volkov. It’s good to see you today.” Samantha says, patting my shoulder gently.
“It’s good to see you too, Sam. How are you?”
“I’m good. How’s work?”
“Not bad. It’s more than I expected but 1 love the thrill it brings.”
She laughs. “It’s the same for all of us. There are moments I want to stay home and do nothing, but I fear I’d fall sick from sitting around all day.” She beckons one of the waitresses over to my table. “She’ll take your order. You don’t have to go to the counter.”
“Thanks, Sam.”
She beams. “You’re welcome.”
I order a smoothie and a cheese pizza. As the waitress walks away to get my tray, I check my phone. Lilly has texted to know how my day’s going. I contemplate telling her about the encounter at the parking lot but quickly change my mind. She doesn’t seem to understand how I feel about the stranger. Maybe it’s because no one has made me feel that way before, or I’m just lonely.
“Here you go, Ma’am.”
I mumble a thanks and hand her a hundred then pick up the warm crust and take a large bite. It’s yummy, exactly the way I envisioned it. I savor the taste and at the same time scrolling through my emails. I have less than thirty minutes left. If I’ll be attending the party with my parents I’ll need a dress and a trip to the salon. I groan, wishing I could find a way to ditch it.
A girl giggles, breaking through my thoughts. I sigh and dig into my purse for money then drop it under the tray and stand up. It’s time to head back to work, the one thing that keeps me sane.
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Chapter 9
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The next afternoon, I stop at the store on my way back from work to grab a dress. One corner of my mouth twitches when I see two older women arguing over a black cocktail dress. One of them is trying to convince the other that the dress is perfect for whatever event they’re attending.
I walk down the other aisle, scanning the dresses. Black will do – nothing too fancy. My expression turns eager as my gaze settles on a sleek and versatile black dress. I run my hand down its length.
“Do you need help, Ma’am?”
I turn to the voice. It’s one of the attendants. “What do you think of this dress?”
She moves close and lets her finger brush it lightly. “I’m trying to imagine you in it and it’s not so hard to see how good it will look on you. What’s the occasion if I may ask?”
A party I have no interest in.
“A party. My dad’s best friend is back in town so the old man is throwing a welcome party.”
“Wow! That’s really thoughtful of your dad.”
And lame. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“Some folks would have settled for a night out at the club or a trip to some island, but your father is totally different. How long have they been friends?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never met him.”
She fingers the dress again. “This will do. It strikes a balance between comfort and elegance. If you are into older men, you might snag yourself some sugar at the party.”
I withdraw my hand from the dress as if I’m burned by it. She takes no notice of my action but goes on to tell me how the dress is a classic A–line. In the blink of an eye, she’s taking the dress off its hanger and steering me towards the dressing room.
“You look ready to bolt.” One of the women I met arguing earlier quips as the attendant closes the door behind me and yells that she’ll be waiting outside the door if I need help.
“That black dress is stunning. Come on, try it on, let’s see!” wooden bracelets jangle on her wrist as she drags her fingers through her red hair.
I huff a breath and walk into one of the cubicles to undress. Shit, I just remembered I have to do my hair for the party. It needs trimming and maybe I’ll dye the tips or something. I tug the dress over my head and smooth my hands over my hips.
“Are you alright in there?”
I can’t tell if it’s the attendant or one of the women. There’s one way to find out. I open the door and step into the room with floor–to–ceiling mirrors, mannequins, and four ladies checking out their dresses.
“Damn, this dress was made for you, girl. See how well it fits!” The red–haired woman said, adjusting the short slit that runs through my lower thighs,
“I think it’s too much for a party with old folks,” I mumble, glancing at the slit.
She cocks a brow. “Oh, please. If you drop this piece I’ll be heartbroken. I’ve never seen a more breathtaking sight. You should take it.”
1 hesitate, “I love it.”
“You should come by my salon. I’ll fix your hair.”
I glance at my nails the instant she does. “The party is tomorrow. Will you be able to fix me in?”
“Of course, I’ll be delighted to have you.”
“Mice. What time will be okay?”
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Chapter 9
3 pm is fine. Give me your number so I’ll text you the address.”
We exchange contacts then I head back to the cubicle to undress. When I come out again, the attendant is waiting by the door, her eyes swelling with expectation, I shrug and hand her the dress.
You were right. The dress is perfect.”
Her smile widens. “I’m glad you like it. You should talk to Karen about your hair. She’s good.”
“Who’s Karen?”
She points with her chin at one of the women the one who gave me her contact. I chuckle and tell her Karen has already met me.
“I’m seeing her tomorrow.”
“Come on then, let me check this out for you.”
As she packs the dress into a bag and hands me a receipt, tension snaps my nerves. The fact that Tristan will be there causes an extra layer of unease.
“Here you go, Ma’am. Thanks for shopping at BND stores.”
“You’re welcome.”
I stride towards the door, keeping my gaze locked on my car. I’ll go home now and soak in the tub while I think of what to make for dinner. Soon, I’ll put all these nagging thoughts behind me and stop gazing at tall figures with dark hair and boyish smiles,
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