Page 22 of Scorching Sienna

It was where I learned how to be me without James.

And now I was being told I had to move immediately. If Ralph were a bad guy, it would be easier to dig my heels in and say this is unjust. But I have been to his house and had dinner with him and his family. Lisa called me Aunt Sienna, for god's sake.

“I wish things were different, but the new buyer was insistent that the property be vacated immediately,” Ralph hesitates before speaking again. “He has given you until tomorrow morning to be out.”

“You’re kidding!” The blood drains from my face as I look up at the clock on the wall.

After Damon brought me home late last night, I slept in. Out of the ordinary for me. I attribute it to the very unusual…sexual experience I had last night. Just thinking about it makes my ass tingle where I know a slight red mark resembling a handprint remains.

“It’s one in the afternoon now. How on earth am I going to pack up a whole house, my whole life, in a couple of hours? And I have to work tonight, Ralph. It's impossible.”

Before the tears I didn’t realize had started to well up got a chance to fall, or Ralph could utter another apology, a knock on the front door had both our gazes traveling there.

I wasn’t expecting anyone. But then I wasn’t expecting Ralph, andlook how this day has turned out. Reluctantly, I get up.

Blinking my eyes a few times, I try to compose myself before getting to the door.

Opening it, however, lights a fire under the critters in my stomach, the tension from my conversation with Ralph morphing into something else. Briefly.

“Damon, what are you doing here?” I blink twice as if he were a mirage that would disappear with that action.

No such luck. Then again, blinking wouldn’t stand a chance against the invincible enigma that is Damon. I’m sure even the blind can see this man who is made of the very darkness their sight belongs to.

He remains standing there. In his suit. A different one to last night, but just as swoon-worthy.

Peering to the side, I see old Mrs. Bree next door, standing by the railing of her porch. Her eyes are glued to Damon as if he were the grim reaper himself, coming to take her away. Finally. I think she has been praying for it since her husband died.

“You left these.” He hands me my pair of work pants and my bag from my locker at the club—everything left at the scene of the crime.

I blush fiercely when thinking about why he would need to return my items in the first place.

“Um, thank you. I could have gotten them later.”

“Not really. Apparently, your phone has been ringing non-stop.” Damon's voice gives nothing away, so I can’t tell if he is irritated.

“Sorry. It was my landlord looking for me.” As if summoned, Ralph appears behind me sans a coffee cup.

“I’m really sorry, Sienna, but I need to go. Lisa needs me to take her to pick out a prom dress,” Ralph says to me while eyeing Damon suspiciously as he steps past him.

“I’m truly sorry about this situation. Call me later if you need help.” I don’t even have a chance to say goodbye, his figure retreating as if his house is on fire.

I wish it were. I instantly regret the thought and pray that karma doesn’t come for retribution.

“What’s wrong?” Damon’s question is contrasted by his tone, which sounds bored.

“Nothing,” I say quietly as I turn around to put the evidence of what happened last night on the side table by the front door.

Thoughts of how I will get the impossible done bubble to the surface, banishing the desire Damon elicits into the recesses.

Boxes. I need boxes. And tape. And paper wrapping for glassware. Bubble wrap would be better. How was I going to move the big stuff? Where was I moving everything to? I must look for somewhere immediately. What about my plants?

My eyes drift over to the colorful pot plants scattered around the living room, courtesy of my mystery man. My mystery man. What would become of him? Would he still drop notes off here? Notes someone else would read. Notes meant for me. Like the one this morning.

My little moonflower, blooming in the darkness, your poison, an addiction with no cure x

Another flower reference that I didn’t understand. I was busy looking up moonflowers when Ralph interrupted me. I was hoping the internet could shed some light on what the note meant. Shed some light! I almost laugh at the contradiction.

“If you lie to me again, your punishment will be more severe than that dished out last night. What’s wrong?” Damon has steppedforward and is now directly behind me as he asks his question again.

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