ChapterTwenty-Seven
Piper
“It was Blake,” Mindy says, handing me a glass of red wine before plopping down on the couch beside me.
“How did that happen? Where did he find it?” I take a small sip.
“He said it was sitting outside our front door. I gave him a key on Saturday when I got stuck at work and he was going to get here before I did. It was addressed to you, so he didn’t really think about it, just stuck it on your dresser and then forgot.” She runs a hand through her hair.
Well, the mystery of how Ben’s creepy package made it to my room has been solved. I didn’t notify the authorities until today. I’ve spent the last two days working my fingers to the bone and the last two nights being soothed into sleep by Oliver-derived orgasms. Not a bad way to cure insomnia. The work is moving along slowly but surely. And the orgasms are as mind-boggling as ever.
I didn’t want to come back to Mindy’s, but I needed a change of clothes, and Oliver and I have gotten so close, so fast. The urge to move in with him and never leave is strong enough to freak me out. I can’t be drawn into something so serious so quickly. I need to keep a piece of myself separate. I can’t repeat what happened with Ben. I know Oliver isn’t Ben, but the fear still lingers. Oliver is like a hurricane—it would be so easy to be consumed by him.
I have to remember my goals—rebound and get back to work. Although Oliver doesn’t feel like a rebound. Not at all. I also wanted to spend some time with Mindy. I haven’t seen her since the day we left for Whitby.
I’m not sure I will have four structures done in time for the gallery opening, but I know I’ll get one completed, for sure, and I have Oliver to thank for it. He did help me get my mojo back, more than he could possibly understand.
“Is Blake coming over tonight?” I ask Mindy.
She tucks her feet up under her. “No. We had a little argument yesterday.”
“What happened?”
She makes a face. “There were pictures in Page Seven of him and Jeanette having a romantic dinner.”
“Ouch.”
She takes a big gulp of wine. “I know it’s for show, but that doesn’t make it easier to swallow.”
“Of course.”
She rests her head back on the couch and shuts her eyes. “Only a couple more months, and they will break up, and it will all be good.”
“What about your job?”
She waves a hand. “I don’t think it will be an issue. They’ll have to move me from Blake’s account, so I won’t work on anything directly related to him or Vacation Mustache. We’re both adults. We’ll keep it as private as possible, and it will be fine.”
I swirl my wineglass. I wouldn’t think someone so willing to play the press with his current wife could just step out of it, but what do I know? I hope she’s right.
“What about you? Not staying with Oliver tonight?” she asks.
“No. We have plans tomorrow, though, so you’ll have the apartment to yourself tomorrow night.” I convinced Oliver to take the day off, but I didn’t tell him what for. He has no idea that I know it’s his birthday. Heck, he may not even realize it’s his birthday.
“Are you sure you aren’t rushing into things so soon after Ben?”
I take another sip of wine. Even though Mindy is just verbalizing my own inner turmoil, my defensiveness rises to the surface. “It’s been over four months now. Besides, Ben and I were over long before that. I just needed the strength to leave.”
She bites her lip. “I don’t want you to end up in another bad situation.”
The irony here isn’t lost on me. Mindy isn’t exactly getting herself into a great situation.
“I haven’t been attracted to a man in years. Ben made me feel like shit that had been stuck on garbage and thrown into a gutter in the Bronx. Oliver makes me feel… like I’m worth something.” He makes me feel like I’m everything.
“You have to make you feel those ways.”
I nod. “I know. He’s helped me a lot, though. He’s helped me remember who I am.”
She snorts. “By being a total ass?”