Three Stages of Love: Attraction (12 page)

Alexander wrapped his large arms around me, embracing me enough so that I couldn’t move but leaving enough room between us so that I could stare into his hypnotic eyes.

“So, I’m going to ask you to wrap your head around the fact that in three weeks we are going to go spend some time in LA for business and perhaps a little bit of pleasure. My business ventures will require that I spend time in LA for at least part of the next year or two. I am taking you with me. And since Marcus, your boss, does not want you back at work for a while, I don’t foresee anything or anyone other than myself occupying your time.”

I
was
somehow processing everything he was saying and taking all things into consideration. Through all of that I couldn’t actually find anything in his request that I could or would contest.

“I see the wheels in your brain turning; don’t overthink this.” Alexander huffed through his psychoanalysis of me. “If you want to be with me, you will come with me despite your notions and fears. When you are ready to start packing, you can have Brant take you to Long Beach to get the things you’ll need, or I will gladly take you shopping and get whatever you need before we leave for LA. Again, I do apologize for having heard this information from a source other than myself, but that is all I will apologize for. Is there anything else you wanted to discuss, Evangeline?”

Yes, I want to discuss all of it,
I told myself. But no words made it out of my mouth. Instead I pushed his arms down, releasing his grip on my waist, and slowly strolled past him, never saying a word. I needed a moment to think about the choices that were being made for me. I never looked back at him; I just walked out the apartment’s entrance and into the elevator and pressed the button that read
L
for lobby.

When I reached the ground floor of the building, I stood right outside the elevator doors for a moment. The blank stare on my face was the mirror image of the blankness that existed in my head.

“Can I help you, Mrs. Mason?” asked a familiar voice.

And that snapped me right out of it. “I’m sorry. I’m not Alexander’s wife,” I said.

It was the bellman who was trying to assist me. He had seen Alexander and I stroll in and out of this building together dozens of times. “Accept my apologies, miss. I meant no disrespect; please excuse my assumptions.”

“Please, Andrew, no need to apologize. Can you tell me, does this place have a bar that’s open or a kitchen that serves alcohol? I need a stiff one, and I don’t mean one that comes with a body and a mouth.” My bluntness even made strangers laugh. Though with me, you either love my sense of humor or you hate it. Andrew obviously loved it.

Smiling from ear to ear, Andrew escorted me to the lounge on the bottom floor of the complex. “The Premier is open for another hour, miss. Is there anything else I can help you with? Anything at all?”

But there was nothing at all in that moment that I wanted more than to get wasted. “No thank you, Andrew. This is fine.”

Andrew walked off, and I made my way to the desolate bar. The room was set with tables for two. The tables held dim lit candles and a single white rose. Outside the courtyard were workers collecting chairs and cleaning up remnants from the people who had been there earlier.

The bartender approached me and leaned onto the onyx bar counter. “Well, hello. What can I do for you?”

Oh God, I need to get hit on like I need a hole in the head.
I sighed, “The
only
thing you can do for me is get me a drink. Patrón, Rose’s lime juice, and a slice of lime—please,” I said.

The bartender nodded and proceeded to make me my drink.

There were so many things that occupied my mind in that moment but nothing that stood out clear. So as my thoughts raced, I begged myself to find clarity. And I did—at the bottom of my first drink. And then my second, and by the third drink, nothing was any clearer, but I also had no thoughts in my head.

“We are going to be closing soon. You sure I can’t do anything else to turn that frown upside down—darling,” the bartender annoyingly asked.

“You can turn around and get the fuck out of her face,” said a voice behind my head that would have startled me had I not been so sloshed. Instead it made me laugh.

“Mr. Mason, I apologize. I didn’t realize she was with you,” said the bartender.

“
She
is with me in every way you can possibly imagine. So the next time you see her, you will address her as
miss,
and you will say nothing more than hello. Is that clear?” And with that added tidbit of information, I recognized that the irate and protective tone Alexander was speaking with; was the same he had used when he stood over Michael and threatened to kill him. He was in protect and defend mode.

“Oh, hush up, cranky. He was just being nice and maybe a little hopeful that I would jump over the counter and blow him.” Laughing loudly, I shoved Alexander jokingly. But he was far from amused.

Flushed and embarrassed, the bartender nodded to Alexander and hung his head awkwardly as he tiptoed to the back of the bar and went out of sight.

“What exactly do you think you are doing?” Alexander barked at me. “You’re so drunk you don’t even realize when someone is being inappropriate with you. And this is, what? Supposed to teach me a lesson?”

I have always been a strong-willed woman, but when alcohol fills my veins, I’m invincible. “I don’t
think
I’m doing anything. To be honest, I’m not thinking at all; that was the point of this. I can handle myself, Alexander; I don’t need you to come to my rescue. I’ve done just fine without you for the last thirty-two years of my life. I don’t need you making my decisions for me or running my life. This wasn’t the deal.”

“Is that what this is about? You not being the one to make the decision to go to LA? I’m not tying you up and dragging you there, Evangeline, and I’m not trying to
run
your life.” Alexander sighed deeply. “I’m just trying to keep
me
in your life.”

Even in my inebriated state, I managed to hold myself back from telling him that I understood what he was saying. I was grasping at straws, trying to find things to be angry about. But deep down I knew that he wasn’t doing anything that wasn’t full of love.

Being a woman is hard. And maintaining one’s strength and a little control in a relationship is the key to
not
ending up as a doormat, but explaining that conviction was proving difficult. “I am not a child, Alexander. I know I have made mistakes, but who hasn’t? What I don’t need is someone telling me what to do, how to do it, and when to do it. I have worked all my life to live this life, and it is my own. No one can take credit for it or say that they gave it to me.” I felt my eyes begin to burn with emerging tears. “This is not a decision on where to make reservations for the evening. This is my home and my life we are talking about. You deciding and announcing to strangers that we are moving to LA is not something that I can just lay down and take.”

Alexander looked surprised at how poised and precise I spoke, considering I could barely stand on my own two feet. But when the heart speaks, the brain has no involvement.

“I was wrong for telling Tom about the trip before I informed you, but I won’t apologize for trying to plan for the continued existence of our relationship. The fact is that I have to stay in LA for a while. I don’t want to leave you behind, and besides, you have the time coming to you at work.” Alexander cradled my face with both hands and centered me so I would stare deep into his hazel eyes where there lay no maliciousness, just love. “All I am asking is that you take a chance on me, and on love. Don’t set us up to fail; neither of us does well without the other. Try it out for a day, a week, a month’s time—whatever you can handle. And when you can’t handle it, home is just a flight away.”

I was great at bargaining, but Alexander? Just amazing!

“I will consider it. I can’t promise you anything,” I softly replied, having come down from my alcohol-induced anger trip.

Alexander stood and reached for my hand. “Can we go home now?”

And the word
home
made me realize that my next decision would change my life forever, causing me to freeze where I sat.

“Evangeline,” Alexander let out harshly, “get up off the stool, and follow me upstairs. I am not asking you.”

And my body moved as he commanded, with no words and no contentions.

I awoke to find darkness still surrounded me and my drunkenness. The clock on the nightstand read 2:00 a.m. I turned to find
nothing
beside me, although it was apparent that I was in fact still at Alexander’s. I slightly recalled our argument about LA, my drinks at the bar, and Alexander’s stern talking to as he forcefully and angrily escorted me back to the apartment. Though I couldn’t recall going to bed or where Alexander had disappeared to, I wanted nothing more than to find him and bring him back to bed beside me.

I had a plain white T-shirt on and panties as I rose from the bed and entered the hallway to go find Alexander.
There are so many damn rooms in this house!
I yelled in my head. But, down the hall, in the last guest room—the bedroom where we first were intimate—lay Alexander in the center of the bed, wearing nothing but black, skintight boxer briefs. I strode toward him with an ease in my step, trying not to disturb the perfection that lay almost completely naked before me. And as I slipped onto the plush mattress, Alexander’s eyes opened and peered at me through the darkness.

“What are you doing in here?” he asked coldly.

“I want to be with you. I want to lie with you,” I responded.

And after a brief pause, he responded, “No. You can’t be with me when it suits you. You are either always with me or you can begin to get accustomed to the feeling you have inside when you are without me. Now go. Go back to your room and sleep.”

Turning his back to me, Alexander shunned me and sent me away.

CHAPTER TEN

Alexander and I were like strangers those early morning hours after our first official argument as a couple.

We sat across from each other at the table as Brant served breakfast. I had little to say. For one, I was battling a looming hangover. And two, I was trying since last night to organize my thoughts and weigh the pros and cons of going to LA with Alexander. Not to mention the fact that Alexander had turned me away from being at his side through the night.

Till now, my biggest fear had been the idea of diving into a married-like scenario and not being able to escape it afterward. And there were other things. Staying in the penthouse with Alexander didn’t fell like
I lived with him.
It just felt like I was sleeping over a lot. Going across the country for a few months—that’s a whole other ball game. But I knew all too well the consequences of
not
being with Alexander and the dreadful pain that I felt without him, and last night was a torturous reminder of that.

“I would prefer you scream at me rather than sit in silence.” Alexander stared at me as I pecked at my food.

“I have no intention or desire to scream at you,” I said in a whisper. “And the silence is nice when my thoughts are so loud.”

Alexander stood from his seat, picked up his place setting and utensils, and sat right beside me. “Is this all right?”

He was walking on egg shells, which made me feel great and terrible all at once. I didn’t want him to act like a puppy dog, but I was enjoying the sucking up. And with that hint of enjoyment, a noticeable smirk of victory occupied my lips.

“Ah, you
are
enjoying this. Well, I am glad I can still make you smile.” Alexander shoved a fork full of pancake into his mouth, obviously glad to see the tension begin to lessen.

And the smile of his food-filled cheeks brought me to the brink. I was overflowing with passion, but the problem rested on my inability to parse the emotions and understand them.

In nine months, I had fallen in love, lost love, suffered, and regained that same love in an overwhelming way. The feeling of having lived a lifetime in only a moment was throwing me into a tailspin that I could in no way control. But I was left with few options. Either I gained control and made a decision, or I came to peace with the idea that Alexander would not be in my life. When examining the way I felt for Alexander, you would think that the decision was made. But, when contemplating leaving my home, my family, and my friends to live a life unfamiliar to me, there was no easy answer. Was I ready to give everything up? Was I ready to sacrifice all of
me
for love?

Well, those were the unanswered questions that bogged me down as I stared at the smile of love.

“If you try to speak to me, perhaps I can help you answer the myriad of questions that you have in that overactive mind of yours.” Alexander’s expression became worrisome as I spaced out, reflecting on my own troubles. “Evangeline,” Alexander called.

Hailed back from the black hole of my psyche, I returned to present day and to Alexander. “I’m sorry, my mind was elsewhere. What were you saying?”

Alexander slowly took the fork out of my hand; it wasn’t serving its purpose anyhow, as little to no food actually made it to my mouth.

“You have to talk to me. You can’t shut down when things get tough; I can’t read your mind. And though I can read your expressions pretty well, I am praying that what I am reading is completely invalid.” Alexander stared at me intently as if he were reading a book—except he
was
reading
me.

I agreed with him in that I was shutting down as things became difficult, but I could not get myself to do otherwise. My life had always consisted of making decisions
for me
. I was my responsibility; I was my
only
concern. And everything and anything I did—any decision I made—was hashed out and planned and decided on in my head and via my mind. I never involved my heart. This was uncharted territory for me.

“I don’t mean to shut down—not intentionally. It is just the only way I have known in all my years. This is how I figure myself out.” I clutched his hands in mine and kissed his knuckles. “But now I not only need to figure out myself, but I need to figure out
us
. That is one area that I am not yet seasoned in understanding and managing.”