Dear Heart, You Screwed Me(48)

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I could hear the sarcasm dripping from her tone. I chose to ignore it.



Half an hour later, we headed out the door. Connie sabotaged my yams. One job, all she had to do was keep an eye on my marshmallows, but instead of being a beautiful golden goo, they were black and crispy. Not at all like the photo on the website. I was pissed. I didn’t get changed, just brushed out my hair and added a little make up. I was wearing a scoop neck red, puffed sleeve jumper and black high waisted jeans, finishing off my look with patent Dr Martens. Tucking my hair behind my ears, I held my hand out for my ruined yams, and began heading for the main lift. Connie stood, just shaking her head from left to right.

“This way,” she called me back with her index finger. I looked at her confused, my brows pinching as I turned to follow her. We headed to the opposite end of the corridor and stood by a wall.

“Erm, what are you doing?” I leaned in and whispered in her ear.

“Just watch,” she smiled.

“Is this some platform 9 ¾ magic?” I giggled as I watched her pull a key card out and insert it into a little slot in the panelling.

Huh, I would never have noticed that.

The door slid into a false wall and presented a private lift.

“Connie…” my voice trailing off as I followed her into the lift.

“Yup?” she asked, leaning over and pushing the button that said PH.

“Your dad lives in my building?”

She nodded.

“Huh,” I raised my eyebrows, watching the doors close before we moved quickly to the top floor.

I don’t know why but I felt nervous, what if her dad was horrid? She didn’t exactly speak highly of her dad, just referred to him as her sperm donor most of the time, even if sometimes I could tell she thought more of him than that. I inhaled deeply as the doors pinged open into a lavish, brightly lit lobby.

“Dad?” she called out as she walked inside, I followed closely behind her. This apartment was amazing. The views of the New York skyline were to die for. She was right, her dad did have more money than sense.

“Hey Princess, in here!” he called out, and I froze. My skin smothered in goosebumps as the voice splintered through me. I watched as Connie picked up the pace and disappeared round the corner.

“Hey Daddy,” I heard the sickly sweetness in her voice.

“Happy Thanksgiving Pumpkin,” he cooed back at her, “where is your friend?”

“Oh,” I heard Connie sigh, “she was right behind me.”

I couldn’t move. My legs felt like they were cemented to the floor.

Connie reappears, a beaming smile on her face, then following behind her was Killian.

My breath caught in the back of my throat, my eyes widening before I dropped the china dish I was carrying, everything happening in slow motion. Connie’s eyes moved from me to her dad then to the dish that was free falling out of my hand, my eyes were focussed on Killian. Our gazes burning into each other, tension growing constantly between us when all of a sudden, the loud smash of my dish on the tiles made me jump, pulling me out of my trance.

My candied yams.

“Shit,” I whispered, my hands moving to my hair as I stepped back. I couldn’t believe what was happening.

“You okay?” Connie asked as she went to step towards me.

“Pumpkin, don’t, stay there.” Killian held his arm out in front of Connie, stopping her. “Let’s get this cleaned up, we don’t want either of you getting hurt now do we…” his eyes flicked to his daughter before moving to me. I could feel the burning desire inside of them; my heart lurched in my chest. My eyes fell to his hand, his ring was still on. Mine wasn’t. Damn it.

An older maid ran out with a dustpan and brush, Killian ushered Connie back to where they came from. I finally let out the breath I had been holding.

I followed them sheepishly. I had never felt so out of my comfort zone. As I turned the corner, I saw the lavish dining room table that was filled with decorative pumpkins, candles sitting either end of the table. I saw Connie questioning Killian. Locking my fingers together, I stumbled forward.

“I am so sorry about the yams,” my voice was low and quiet.

Killian’s head turned to face me, his eyes soft, “Don’t worry about the yams.”

I nodded, swallowing hard. I wanted Connie to look at me, but she wouldn’t.

Had he told her? Or was she just trying to piece the parts of this fucked up jigsaw together.

“Excuse me, I need the bathroom,” I muttered, stepping back but waiting for someone to tell me where to go.

“It’s the third door on the left, just past the kitchen,” Connie smiled, her eyes softening for the moment.

I gave a small, weak smile, turning on my heel and walking towards the toilet. As soon as the door was closed, I let out a deep breath.

I need to get out of here. Standing opposite the mirror, my fingers wrapped around the porcelain sink.

“It’s just dinner,” I muttered. “He works with you, or you work for him?” I shook my head in confusion. I didn’t know what was going on. What a cluster fuck.

I closed my eyes. I just needed a minute. That’s all. Then I was going to sit out there, eat the food, drink the wine and be thankful.

My eyes flicked open when I heard the door click open, then close again. I felt my heart skip a beat, my breathing fastening. I knew it was him. My body reacts to him, even if I don’t want it to.