Wait for Me (24 page)

“You said it.”

“I said it,” he muttered, laughing. “And I'll say it again. I love you… even if these words are nothing compared to the way I feel.”

I hurled him onto the cushions and flooded him with kisses. He lifted me up to straddle him.

“Wait,” he said hoarsely.

He took me in his arms and strode to the bedroom.

“I don't want to—”

“Shh,” he hissed. He put in tongue in my mouth, silencing every thread of consciousness. “I'm going to find some condoms but I'm not leaving you alone to discover god knows what on my computer too. I'll get rid of all that later.”

In ten seconds he was back inside me, with all the passion and intensity of everything we had just expressed.

The following morning, I woke up alone. I got dressed and followed the voices coming from the television. Adam was in the kitchen, intently watching the financial news. He was wearing a suit, with a cup of coffee in his hand.

“Good morning,” I said, sneaking up behind him.

He turned to greet me, pleasantly surprised.

“Good morning beautiful. I didn't want to wake you up. I left a note.” He hugged me tightly and kissed me on the forehead. I stroked his clean shaven cheek. Adam took my hand and kissed it.

I settled on the stool, leaning on my knees.

“You're a slow riser aren't you?” he joked. “You want a coffee?”

“Please.”

“Black, right?”

“Please.”

He poured a generous mug and cut two slices of bread.

“What do you like? Jam, peanut butter or—?”

“Just bread is fine.”

“Perfect.”

On the table was a newspaper, a new toothbrush and a set of keys.

“Are these for me?” I asked, sliding the key ring onto my finger.

Adam smiled, switched off the television and took a seat in front of me to eat our first breakfast together. It was nice to be here, and only a little awkward.

Then, like thunder from a blue sky, he unleashed the following: “Listen, I want to tell your brother about our relationship.”

I shakily placed the mug on the table.

“He needs to know. We can't avoid him – we're right in front of the workshop and sooner or later he's going to see.”

“Er,” I mumbled. “I dunno, I mean—”

“What's wrong? Are you afraid of him?”

“No,” I answered. “Just of what he's going to say.”

“What is he going to say?”

“I don't know.” I knew very well. He would say that it was wrong; that I was doing it all over again; the same old bullshit.

“Well, let's go and find out.”

“Now?” I stared at him, panicked.

“Yeah, now. Get ready and we'll go.”

I dragged myself to the guest bathroom. After a leisurely shower, I amused myself reading the long list of ingredients on the soaps and bath essences. I smelled the various creams and poked around the cabinets. In short, I did everything I could to postpone the imminent meeting. I watched myself in the mirror for a few seconds and smiled, thinking about everything that had just happened. I took a deep breath and returned to the living room. Adam was on the couch, facing the financial news and talking on the phone.

“I'll be there within the hour. Let me find last month's reports and tell Seth to keep me up to date.”

I walked over to the table and Adam reached out for me to sit beside him.

“No, I don't want a meeting.” He put my legs on his lap and I buried my head into the side of his neck, adoring his scent. “Good, see you in an hour.” As soon as he hung up, he pushed me into the cushions and smothered me with more kisses.

“Are you ready?” he asked, breathing into my neck, instantly making me want to undress again.

“Can we do it another time?” I replied. “I don't see the hurry.”

“Never put off until tomorrow what you can do today,” he said, standing up. “Stop worrying.”

“Please, another day. I'll head home now and we can think about it tonight or tomorrow, or whenever you want to see me again.”

“I'll pick you up from work tonight. I want you to bring your stuff to mine.”

He picked up my bag, took my hand and led me through to the hallway.

“I can't, and anyway, I don't want to,” I answered, easing myself from his grip. Adam stared at me uncertainly.

“Until that bed is gone, I can't live here, and I'm going to a friend's house for dinner tonight.”

“What friend?” he asked, serious.

“Steven,” I replied.

“Oh right, the gay one,” he muttered. “Alright, well I'll buy a new bed later today and you can stay over tonight. And really Sophie, I didn't realize you were such a coward with your brother.”

In the elevator, we silently watched the lights descend. At the third floor, I finally spoke.

“Yeah, with my brother, I am. And where are you expecting to find a bed in one day?”

“Don't worry, I have my methods. In any case, your brother will be fine. He might not like it at first but he'll come around. Everything will work out – trust me.”

*

The doors opened as we were in the middle of a kiss. I saw the janitor looking at us, confused. I avoided his gaze. After we passed through the glass door and reached the sidewalk, I unhooked myself from his grip but he urgently reclaimed my hand. I pulled away again.

“Not right now, one step at a time.”

Across the street, I could already see my brother busy at his desk. I prayed that he would not lift his head until we reached the office.

Adam went first and I followed, concealed by his shoulders.

“Good morning, Mr Scott,” said Fred.

“Good morning, Fred.”

Then, almost in slow motion, I casually emerged from behind Adam.

“Oh, hey Sophie,” said my brother, clearly surprised to see me there at 8 a.m. He turned back to Adam.

“So, is there anything I can help you with?” he asked, unaware.

“No,” he replied calmly. “I'm here to talk to you, and please, call me Adam.”

I heard my brother clear his throat, clearly perplexed by the sudden pleasantry. Meanwhile, I leaned against the filing cabinet, clasping my hands behind my back. I was struggling to look at my brother, who was sitting right below Dad's photo, and instead chose to stare at a pile of wedding brochures, one of which exhibited a post-it note with a highlighted date.

“Sure, no problem,” said Fred.

“Fred, I wanted to tell you that Sophie and I are seeing one another. Considering that I'm your customer and I live across the street, I thought it would be better to talk to you, rather than have you find out some other way.”

At that bold statement, I discreetly shielded myself again, behind Adam. He took my hand and pulled me to his side, gently wrapping an arm around my waist and holding me close.

My brother remained motionless at his desk, clearly caught off guard, and my eyes shot between him and the photo of Dad.

“Since when?” he asked.

“A few months ago,” he answered, with perfect poise. “But recently we decided that Sophie will come to live with me.”

At that point, my shoulders curled under the weight of it all. Fred mumbled something and then cleared his throat. “Adam, thank you for telling me and… what do you want me to say?”

His fingers began to tap on the desk.

“That you approve,” Adam replied, calm as ever.

Fred let out a muted laugh. “Sophie, can you give us a minute?” he asked, after a few drawn out seconds.

Without a word, I stepped back and bolted from the office. I went to sit on the steps outside and tried to imagine the dialogue between them. My brother was sure to say something about my past and my fragility. It was all very humiliating. After five minutes, Adam joined me.

“I think that went well,” he said, leaning on his knees. “Your brother seems happy.”

“What did he say to you?”

“Just that he'll break my legs if I do anything to hurt you,” then stroked my face and broke into laughter.

As my expression darkened, Adam's relaxed.

“Sophie, really, it's fine. Go and talk to him yourself – he's okay about it.”

“We never talked about living together,” I muttered, searching his eyes.

“What did you have in mind? Every other day?”

“I don't know, I think we're rushing everything – you're rushing everything. I feel like I only started to get to know you yesterday evening.”

“What's wrong with that?” he asked, taking my hands.

At that moment, Fred appeared and I instinctively pulled away from Adam, who smiled and gave him a knowing glance.

“I'd better be off now, give me a call when you've gathered your thoughts.”

“I don't have your number,” I muttered to the floor.

“I know. I put it in your contact list, it's the first one.”

He kissed me on the lips and went to retrieve his car. As he passed through the barrier, I gathered the courage to face my brother.

“I know – it's all going to end horribly,” I mumbled, finally looking up at him.

“Maybe,” he said, looking at an indefinite point ahead of him. “But maybe not.”

“What did you say to him? Did you give him the list of my misfortunes?”

“I'm your brother – I had to make sure he understood that you're fragile.”

“And does he?”

Fred smiled and patted my head. “He said he knows about everything and the last thing he wants is to lose you. You know, I think he's really taken by you.”

“And you're okay with this?” I asked.

“You've never followed my advice before and I highly doubt you're going to start now. I'm just a little worried about how different the two of you are.”

I shook my head quizzically.

“He's filthy rich and doesn't want for anything, least of all women,” he said, raising an eyebrow to clarify his meaning. “There's a part of me that finds this a strange match.”

“Yeah,” I muttered.

“That said, he does love you.”

“He told you that?” I asked, without meeting his eyes.

“Not in so many words, but I could feel it. He wants to take good care of you.”

“I'm scared,” I said, and leaned against his shoulder.

He hugged me. “I bet.”

As soon as we heard the voice of Alice Truman behind us, we broke apart.

“Good morning Fred!” she chimed.

The blonde panther crossed our path. Her suit was completed by towering heels, yet she managed to walk with the elegance of a ballerina.

“You know he fucked her don't you?” Fred muttered, watching the goddess step into her Mercedes.

“Unfortunately,” I replied with a nervous laugh.

He shook his head. “I don't want to think about it,” he said, retreating with his hands in his pockets.

The poor guy. I could only imagine how tormenting this was – probably he was picturing me getting fucked on the hood of that Audi. I didn't want to think about it either.

Following the instructions of Adam and Fred, I decided to head home. On the bus, I simultaneously received texts from Sabrina and Adam.

The first message from Sabrina said:

The second message from Steven said:

At home, I listened to the radio and reflected on the previous twelve hours. At around 11 a.m., I decided to call him. He answered after two rings.

“That was quick,” he said.

“Yeah, well, I was calling to say that I've been thinking about it… and I don't want to move out.”

“You want to keep your hideaway?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“Alright, whatever makes you happy.”

“And I want to be able to go out with my friends and for you to come with me sometimes. In short, get out and socialize a little.”

“Alright.”

“And promise me that if there are any problems, you'll say something.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because… whilst I don't breathe a word during sex, you don't breathe a word the rest of the time.”

I heard him laugh. “Alright.”

“Okay, then, I'm in. But I'm only coming over once that bed is gone.”

“I've already placed an order – they're delivering it tomorrow.”

“Then I'll see you tomorrow night at your place, but I'm going to leave my stuff here and keep paying rent. I don't want to leave Sabrina and Steph with the full cost.”

“Whatever you need to do.”

“Perfect, then come by the store at eight tomorrow and we'll take it from there.”

“I look forward to it.”

“See you then.”

“Bye.”

Just as I hung up, I received another call: Ester.

“Sophie, say is not true!” she confusingly began.

“What?”

“Sophie, the owner at Lucas's telled Ben that you're with Adam Scott. Give me the truth.”

I put a fist to my forehead and clenched my teeth. Why can't my brother mind his own business instead of blabbering to the whole damn neighborhood?

“Sophie?!” she urged. “What do you say to this?”

“Erm, good morning to you too Ester!”

“Oh Mama, oh
madre de Dios
… is really true then. This is very bad. What did I always say? He is the devil. Sophie, Sophie, Sophie…
santo Jesus, pobre niña
.”

Her melodrama put me into hysterics.

“Ester, he's just a guy.”

“Just a guy?” she croaked. “How long does this happen Sophie? How long?”

“A little while.”

She began to mutter some garbled nonsense in her own tongue.

“Ester, speak English.”