Back Where We Belong (A Second Chances New Adult Romance) (10 page)

What else can I do? I'm going to
have to tell him something to put him off coming again. But what? And do I
really want to do that? I've been miserable since I ran out of that restaurant
yesterday. Since I found Luke again and ran off. I'm such a coward these days.

And part of me wants to move
forward and stop fearing everything. I've got to move on and live my life. I
can’t run away from everything forever.

It was nearly five years ago and
I've had enough of being closed off from so much that others take for granted.
What harm is there in coffee? Though I can't stay long. The gallery is closed
while we prepare for tonight, but I need to help out.

So I give in and tell him I can
manage a quick coffee. And when he gently takes my hand as if fearing I won't
let him, I brace myself and don't pull my hand away. And...it's nice.

He gets the coffee and we sit
down facing each other.

“How come you're living back
home?” he says.

“It was just easier with my job
and everything.”

“I remember your mother. It
doesn't seem like the easy option to me.”

“She's as bad as ever. I'm going
to move out as soon as I get my own place. But I'm used to her, you know. She
doesn't affect me like she used to.”

“No?”

I can tell he doesn't believe
that. He probably thinks it's my mother who has changed me. It seems safer to
let him think that.

“You live in New York?”

“I have a place just off Central
Park. You'd like it.”

“Wow! And to think I didn't
believe you when you said you'd make billions.”

“Only one,” he says. “Not
billions in the plural, not yet. It's been hard work, not always fun, but
interesting.”

“How did you do it?”

“Like I planned, really. My uncle
taught me to buy and sell—everything he knew that built up his car business. I
just applied it to bigger and bigger things. First cars, then real estate and
now companies. I took risks. I almost lost everything. Twice.”

“You nearly lost everything?
How?”

“Huge deals where I had to stake
everything I had. I won't do that again. There's too much to lose now, and
sometimes more is not better. More is only more.”

“You've done well. That puts
working in an art gallery to shame.”

“Not if you like working in an
art gallery. It just so happens that I like buying and selling—cars, houses,
companies, it's much the same. I guess I like selling, doing deals, as much as
you like painting.”

“Except you're better at it.”

“What do you paint?”

“A bit of everything, mostly
places around here. The harbor, the park. After I progressed from bowls of
fruit. Michelle, my boss at the art gallery, suggested art classes, but she's
not looking for bowls of fruit and landscapes for her gallery. Not usually
anyway. She's always looking for something of the artist in the painting.
Something unique. I haven't got there yet, but it's fun trying.”

“If your paintings have something
of you in them, I'll have to buy them all,” he says.

“I'll churn them out when I find
out how. And you might regret that. You won't have enough walls to put them
on.”

“I'll buy a mansion just for
that,” he says, and I laugh. It's great to laugh with Luke again. “And when you
paint enough to fill up the walls of that one, I'll have a bigger one built.”

He takes my hand and squeezes it
and I don't pull it away. I don't want to this time. It's not so difficult
sitting in a cafe with Luke, talking about painting.

“So Madison, are you going to let
me take you out to dinner another time?”

I want to see Luke again. I know
I do. I've never been out to dinner with him. He was always working around that
time. Dinner means going out at night, but perhaps it would be okay to go out
with him to a busy restaurant. Somewhere close to home.

“In Greenwich?” I ask.

“Anywhere you like. Greenwich or
Timbuktu. Doesn't matter. I'll pick you up on Saturday at eight. Your mother is
going to love it when I turn up. I can't wait to show her my car.”

“Oh! Is your other car really a
Porsche now then?”

“No, better, a Ferrari. I have a
few but the Ferrari is my favorite.”

I laugh.

He walks me back to the gallery
and holds my hand as we walk. It brings back nothing but good memories. I'm
happy about that. I feel safe. I always felt safe with Luke all those years
ago. When we get close to the gallery, I smile at him. “I work just along
there. It’s a small place. There’s just me and my boss, Michelle.”

“Nice gallery. I saw it earlier,
but you weren’t there. It was closed. I went to all the galleries in Greenwich
looking for you.”

“You did? I was at the bakery
sorting out the order for tonight. Vol-au-vents for the opening.” He went to a
lot of trouble to find me. That makes me smile. “You could have just called my
house.”

“I called your house five years
ago. I’m not going through that again. I still carry the wounds.” He laughs.

“You called my house back then?
My mother never told me. I guess you’re really not that keen on meeting her
again then, despite wanting to impress her with your car?”

“Only if you’re there to protect
me. I’ll be brave, if you’re there. And I’ll carry a cross and some garlic.”

“Hey, that’s my mother you’re
talking about,” I protest, but I’m laughing. “Isn’t that for vampires anyway?”

“Vampires, evil spirits, your
mother. Who cares?  I’ll be polite but I’m not taking any chances.”

He looks at me then, and I know
that look. He’s going to kiss me, I know it.

“See you Saturday,” he says, and
when he bends his head and he really does kiss me, it feels so good to have his
lips on mine, as if time skipped all those years. He has changed his
after-shave, but he still has that familiar Luke scent, the same velvet soft
lips and slight stubble on his cheek. And my heart thuds, but it’s not from
fear, and I reach up and touch his scar, remembering the accident, and I think
he remembers too because his kiss deepens a little, but not too much. And
perhaps it’s just as well we are in the street with people milling around, so
his kiss is not threatening at all. Just firm and sweet. I can cope with that.

The thought of sometime “later”
and being alone with Luke floats across my mind, and I quickly shut that
picture out. I don't know how I'll react if we get to that point.

“Oh, Madison,” he says. “I missed
you. I missed this.”

I want to tell him I missed this
too, but actually I've been running from exactly this for so long, I don't. I
just kiss him again, quickly on the lips, and he hugs me and buries his face in
my neck and then I have to go. I know Michelle will be wondering where I went.

I wave to Madison as she rushes
back to the gallery along the street. I want to skip like a schoolboy, but of
course I don't. All I know is that there’s a big fucking grin on my face as I
call Paul to come and pick me up.

I have spent so long in Greenwich I
have got to get back to work. Julia will be going ballistic. But fuck work! I
kissed Madison and I'm taking her out on Saturday, and this time I'm going to
find out what's going on.

A couple of days after meeting
Luke, I'm still smiling on my way to work. I have a date with him on Saturday,
and I think I'll be able to handle it. I'm going to put everything behind me
and enjoy it.

Michelle and I are off to an
estate sale for the afternoon. We attend auctions like these every few weeks.
She's happy to close the gallery for part of the day if there's the hope of
getting some good pieces to sell. She takes me along and I help her load the
car with whatever she has bought, and sometimes, she asks my opinion.

“There's a big draw today with a
painting by Charles White,” she says. “I'd like to see that, but it will go for
far too much. You can tell me what you think about these though.”

She has the catalog open on a
page with some black and white pen and ink drawings. They are exquisitely done.
I can see why she's interested in these.

“Nice. I like the way a few lines
depict the female form and movement. Really graceful.”

“I thought they'd complement the
Taylor exhibition.”

I agree. The sculptures Erin
Taylor has produced will look perfect alongside these drawings.

The sale is at a big house not
far from Greenwich, a fortune in real estate right there. Though the house
itself is nothing special in terms of design, it’s large and sprawling. After
getting through the heavy lunchtime traffic, we arrive just on time to take a
quick look at the Charles White painting and the drawings. Michelle is still
keen on buying them.

We sit down as the bidding is
about to start, and I glance at the catalog in her hand. My blood runs cold. In
small letters I hadn't noticed before, I see “Property from the Estate of
Edward De Fresney” under the Charles White painting on the front cover.

How many De Fresney families are
there? I’m pretty sure Edward De Fresney must be one of Brad's relations. I
feel hot. I can't stay here. I know I can't stay. I get up and push through the
legs of the people in the row, Michelle's face registering shock and alarm. The
bidding is starting, and people are complaining, but I have to get out of
there.

I run out, and the doors close
behind me. I'm in the hall of the house where a big wide staircase leads up to
another floor. The door closes again.

“Now there's a blast from the
past.” I hear the voice that has been part of my nightmares for the past five
years. Brad was in there! He has noticed me and followed me out.

I want to throw up. I think I'm
going to.

“Going somewhere, were you,
Madison? Always going somewhere. Why not stay right here and I'll see you after
the bidding closes. Relive old times. You were always a feisty one. I like
that. Lots of rooms here in my uncle's old house. Rooms...and beds.”

I'm frozen to the spot. I think
I'm going to pass out.

He whispers in my ear. I can feel
his hateful breath on me. “We can have such fun here. I know you like it rough.
Don't deny it. You might protest but cock-teasers like you always like it in
the end.” He laughs.

Michelle saves me. She has
followed me out.

“I'll see you around,” Brad
whispers and goes back into the sale room.

“What's the matter?” Michelle is
worried. “It looks like you've seen a ghost.”

I feel faint. I can feel my legs
give out under me.

“I'll take you home,” she says.

“What about the pictures?” She
closed the gallery for nothing. She wants those drawings. I know she does.

“To hell with the pictures. I'm
taking you home.”

She takes me back to her place
above the gallery and makes me a hot drink. She's heard enough about my mother
to sense that's not where I'd want to go.

“Tell me,” she says, once I'm
wrapped in a blanket on her big, soft couch with a cup of hot chocolate in my
hand. “What was that all about?”

Can I tell Michelle? I have to
say something. She's been careful not to pry on the way back here, but I can't
put her off forever.

“That guy...he...he attacked me
years ago. At college,”

“You were raped?”

“Yes, by him and a friend. They
held me down at a party. It was like he was coming after me all over again
today.”

“Why didn't you ever tell me?”

“I don't talk about it.”

“It's good that you're talking. I
didn't tell anyone either.”

“You, too?”

“Yes, but not at college. It was
my stepfather. I was sixteen. He wouldn't leave me alone. I think it happens
more often than we think.”

“But you're okay now, aren't
you?” I realize I don't know. We're all okay on the surface.

“Yes, I'm fine. I have my
gallery, but do you see me going out on dates?”

“I didn't think about it,” I say.
“I was too busy avoiding going out on dates myself.”

I smile at her. Someone who
understands!

“I wondered why you didn't go out
much, why you didn't like to be left alone in the gallery. I don't like being
alone downstairs either. I lock up if you're not there and I can't get a friend
to help.”

I realize that's true.

“Don't let those guys get the
better of you,” she says.

“It's easy to say...”

“Tell me about it,  It ruined so
much for me.”

“I'm supposed to be meeting a guy
on Saturday night. Someone I used to know before I went to college.”

“A good guy?”

“Yes, a great guy.”

“Give him a chance. If you like
him. Don't let what happened keep you closed off from life.”

I know she's right. I have to
give myself a chance with Luke.

“You want me to take you home?”

“I'll be okay to drive.”

I'm not feeling so shaky. I feel
better having talked to Michelle.