Page 55 of Heart of Stone

“No need to be shy about that guilty pleasure with me. I’m used to the car obsession. Frank, my stepfather, is fascinated with anything that has four wheels.”

“I’m not shy. I’m just being careful – I don’t want to be accused of flaunting my money,” he teased, poking me lightly in the side and causing me to jump.

Hmm, this is interesting…the playful side of Alexander.

“I could probably tell you something about every make and model of car out there because of him. Everything I know is because of his non-stop chatter at the dinner table growing up.”

“What do you know about the Turbo S?” he asked somewhat dubiously. If he was trying to test me, this was one test that I’d be sure to ace.

“Well, where should I begin? I know that the hefty price tag packs five hundred fifty horsepower and is powered by a four point eight liter twin turbo V8 engine. It can go from zero to sixty miles per hour in only four point three seconds, maxing out at one hundred seventy-five miles per hour. It has – ,” I stopped short when I saw that Alexander was staring open-mouthed at me.

“You sound like you’re reading from a spec sheet. Even I don’t know those specifics off the top of my head! You got all of that from dinner conversation?” he asked incredulously.

“Yeah, sort of. Plus I’ve had a car crush on anything with a Porsche logo since I was thirteen years old,” I confessed with a small shrug.

“You continue to surprise me, Miss Cole,” he murmured. “It makes me wonder about what else you may be hiding from me.”

“Frank owns a bunch of car dealerships back home. Car stats were sort of engrained into me. It’s really no big secret.”

“It seems like you’re fond of your stepfather. Do you have a good relationship with him?” he asked, guiding me around the corner onto Fifth Avenue.

“Oh, yeah – I don’t have any issues with Frank. He has always been very good to me. It’s my mother that I’m always battling with. She can be rather difficult at times, and that’s putting it mildly.”

“How so?”

I took a deep breath and tried to think of the easiest way to describe my mom.

“She’s just bitter all the time. Really negative, you know? It’s almost like she has something to prove. It’s hard to explain if you don’t know her.”

“Maybe I’ll meet her one day,” he said easily.

“Oh, no. You don’t want to meet my mother. She’s stubborn and overbearing to say the least. A part of me would swear that she hates men. Her past is somewhat…well, tainted. You know that expression about a woman who’s been scorned? That’s her. I almost feel bad for Frank sometimes. It’s a small wonder that he’s put up with her for so long.”

“Oh, I don’t know. She sounds like someone that I’d find interesting,” he said with a wink.

I watched him for a moment before realizing the hidden meaning behind his teasing. I was, in a sense, describing myself.

I felt the blood drain from my face as the comprehension dawned. It was like taking a blow to the head. Alexander probably didn’t realize how close to the mark he had hit. At some point in time, I had become like my mother – untrusting, bitter, and resentful towards the entire male species. And while I loved my mother dearly, I did not want to spend the rest of my life sharing her negativities.

How could I have not seen it before? I’m miserable – just like her.

“Krystina, are you okay?” I looked up to see Alexander searching my face imploringly.

“I’m fine. Why do you ask?” I questioned innocently, trying to shake off the unsettling emotions that were reigning down on me.

“You just got really quiet all of a sudden.”

I didn’t offer him a reply, as I was unable to formulate any sort of response at that moment. No words could describe what I was feeling. I could only shrug and act unconcerned, and I was glad when Alexander didn’t press the issue. This was a whole subject that I needed to evaluate for myself – alone, without his speculative gaze.

“I haven’t been here in ages,” he said, as we passed under the Washington Square Arch.

“This park is one of my favorite places. It’s one of the reasons why I fell in love with New York – it’s so full of life. There’s always something going on in Washington Square,” I said wistfully, taking in the activity around us.

“Yep, the place sure has character all right. I’m pretty sure that the guy sitting over there feeding the birds is in the exact same place that he was when I was here last,” Alexander said with an air of distain, nodding his head towards a man that was sitting on a bench, pigeons dancing all around him.

“Oh, come on! The pigeon man gives this place charm! Besides, he’s better than the lady that feeds the squirrels out of her purse.”

“A woman who feeds squirrels?” he asked, features pinched in disgust. I started laughing at his repulsed expression.

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