Page 13 of The German's Guilty Pleasure
“You definitely have the knack for it. Not everyone does. Where did you learn?”
To avoid answering his question, I pointed at his glass. “What do you think of the Bartles & Jaymes?”
He lifted it and turned it twice. “Also unlike anything I have ever had.”
“And you don’t want again?” I asked, laughing at his expression.
“I am not usually a fan of watermelon and mint. It is not bad, but I still prefer a nice bottle of wine.”
I lifted my glass and tipped it at him before I took a drink. “Don’t we all? The difference is, this is a heck of a lot cheaper.”
He lowered his glass and leaned forward onto his knees. “Do I not pay you enough to afford a bottle of wine, Serenity? Need we reassess your contract?”
I shook my head at him. “As if, Lars. I don’t have anything to spend my salary on as it is. I can afford a bottle of wine. I have several if you’d like to open one. I drink this occasionally to remind myself that happiness can be found anywhere and that my life will always be more Bartles & Jaymes than expensive bottles of wine.” There was silence from the stereo for a moment until a new song started. Alabama singingFire in the Night. There was always fire in the night when Lars was around.
“Why is that, Serenity?”
He leaned back in his chair again and waited for me to spill my guts. It wasn’t going to happen. “I think we both already know the answer to that. There’s no need to drag it up into the light of day again.”
His hand reached toward the giant moon overhead. It glowed so brightly I swear it felt like I could take a step off my balcony and land right on it. Too bad that wasn’t the case. I could stand to get away from this conversation.
“There is only darkness right now. It is safe to tell me those things when the darkness surrounds us.”
“You already know, so why are you bringing this up now? What does it matter?”
“I know some of it, yes, but I do not know all of it. Tell me about the parts I am missing. Fill in the blanks.”
I grasped my glass in my hand and leaned back in the chair, staring out over the balcony. “You know the part about my father being a German dignitary and my mother being an American actress, right?”
“I do, yes. From there, things become cloudy.”
I broke eye contact and stared over his shoulder. I had to do this without sounding bitter, emotionally broken, or like I felt sorry for myself. The reality was, I often felt all three of those things. “Not much to understand. My father was killed in a car bombing when I was twelve.”
“I’m sorry. That had to have been terribly difficult.”
I nodded, refusing to let my chin tremble at the mere thought of it. “It was an awful age to lose a father, but I know I’m not alone. A lot of kids lose their fathers, and I remind myself I’m not special or different.”
“Except for the car bombing part. Was it politically motivated?”
I held my hands out. “Probably. Let’s face it, German dignitaries, whether from the ‘40s or the ‘90s, weren’t exactly trusted. Regardless, he was gone. My mother and I were vacationing here when he died.”
“Was your mother from Florida?”
“Yep. Right here in Miami. She just faded away after he died.”
“Faded away?”
I made the motion of smoke in the air with my hand. “Faded away. My parents were soulmates, and losing him was too much for her. My mother died of a broken heart within six months of his death.”
His brows didn’t go up in surprise. A look crossed his face and I wondered what it meant, but he quickly shuttered his eyes before I could see more of his secrets. “I knew she had passed, but not how.”
“I was barely thirteen, and suddenly, both of my parents were gone. I moved in with my American grandmother and lived with her until she died when I was fifteen. The rest is history.”
He leaned on his elbow, propping his hand under his chin. “There is a lot of history in nine years, Serenity.”
I took a long swallow of the cold wine cooler without answering. The music had ended, and I held up my finger, wandering back into the darkened apartment to change the record. I decided a little easy listening was in order and put on an old Nat King Cole record. I grabbed a bottle of wine and two glasses then returned to the patio. He hadn’t moved, but I could feel his gaze on me the entire time. He was enjoying the tank top and boy shorts I wore, but I refused to change. A little part of me was thrilled that he found me alluring and sexy. The biggest part of me, however, was scared to death that his Big Bad Wolf might come out to play.
I lowered the wine to the table and handed him the bottle opener to uncork it. He worked at the cork carefully and waited silently. It was a skill of his that drove me a lot crazy. I was one who liked to fill empty silence out of uncomfortableness. He wanted to create the uncomfortableness out of the empty silence so you would tell him your secrets.
