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One
“Knooooooow that you are loved,” I sang the words to the final song on Cleo Sol’s sold-out set in the beautiful city of Roosevelt.
With my hand pressed against my chest, I swayed from one side to the other. Sinched eyelids deepened the reach of the melody as the words touched places they hadn’t since the first time I heard the record.
The live session I was a small part of was incomparable to the sessions in my studio apartment. This was gratifying. This was bone-chilling. This was encompassing. Her voice. Her presence. Her smile. Her story. Everything was heartening.
My vulnerability was at its peak. My chest was heavy. And, the weights I carried every day were almost unbearably light.
For once.
I rocked my body from one side to the other, following the words as if they’d been etched in my brain at birth. The roaring of the seat dwellers near me pulled my lids apart. Unsure of what was happening, I continued singing while trying to locate the source of the disturbance. It didn’t take long. However, the vintage Gucci slingbacks didn’t extend my height by much.
I stood on the tips of my toes trying to see the woman of the hour. She’d abandoned her post on stage to bless the audience with her presence. A deeper presence. A closer presence. Seemingly, a spiritual presence.
See me.
Hear me.
Feel me.
Know that I am real.
Know that everything I sing is real.
Know that you are loved.
The words hadn’t come from her mouth, but I could feel them on my skin. In her voice. In her tone.
“Oh my God,” I whispered, watching as she descended.
“Knooooooooow that you are loved.”
Accepting my fate, I stood just a seat shy of the aisle she was serenading. With small, fine bumps lining my skin, I pressed my palm deeper into my chest.
“Even if you don’t love yourself.”
A long, cold, and offensively smooth hand rested on the ball of my elbow. I felt the chill down to my humerus bone. Naturally, I flinched. My eyes shifted, desperately searching for the source of discomfort.
Soft brown eyes, oversized lips, wide nostrils, and a perfectly lined fade bombarded me with pleasantries. The growing smile of the stranger initiated mine. For absolutely no reason other than the beauty of the stature before me, my lips curled upward toward my ears.
He leaned in, hand caressing my arm. “Sorry. Would you like to have my seat to see?”
Before a response fell from my lips, the shift was already being made. His body was sliding behind mine, and I was maneuvering to accommodate the request that was disguised as a question.
Just as my feet landed in the spot his had just lifted from, Cleo Sol approached. As if she was floating on thin air in the long blue skirt, she glided down the center of the aisle.
“Knoooooow that you are loved. Even if you don’t love yourself.”
Halting, she rested a hand on my shoulder and angled her body in my direction.
“Knooooow that you are loved.”
Her lips widened with a smile while her head lifted and fell slowly. As she continued, I suffered from immobility. Frozen in place, I followed her down toward the stage with only my eyes. Every other part of me was incapable.
By the time she walked back up the same way she’d come down, my limbs were unthawing, and the brief encounter had become a distinctive blur.
“Knooooooooooow that you are loved,” I sang in unison with the rest of the building.
“Even if you don’t love yourself.”
Seconds later, and she’d returned to the stage, still professing her love for strangers and affirming our love for ourselves.
“Thank you. Thank you. Get home safely, everyone.”
She rocked her body from one side to the other.
“Knoooooow that you are loved,” she continued in harmony with the chorus behind her.
I pulled my bag onto my shoulder, still belting the words of one of my favorite songs. The moment I stepped into the aisle, I recalled the morals and manners my parents had worked overtime to instill in me.
“Thank you,” I shouted over the music.
I extended a hand, gesturing my level of gratitude. As if I’d pissed his Cheerios, the handsome stranger dressed in brown from the tip of his head to the soles of his feet scrunched his nose. A smile followed the contortion of his features. He shook his head, prompting me to lower my hand.
How didn’t I see him?
So lost in my own world, in Cleo’s world, that I hadn’t noticed the handsome figure beside me. The seat was empty for nearly half the show. It’s filling hadn’t grasped my attention. Yet, the occupant had my ears, eyes, and hands consumed. My heart made a fuss in my chest.
He leaned closer, pulling me in by the shoulders before wrapping his arms around me. My breath jammed in my throat, never meeting the surface. The oxygen I needed to clear my airways was stolen from my lungs as he invaded my personal space ever so politely.
So willingly. So gently.
His scent unleashed a new set of feelings between my thighs. Ones that I didn’t know existed. Ones I had never experienced. When he released me, I nearly fell to the floor like a sack of potatoes.
“You want to thank me, pretty… show me where to get a good steak in the city at this hour.”
“I–uh–”
Too soon, Pip.
I closed my eyes and swallowed the nothingness in my throat. Gathering words had never felt so daunting.
So grueling.
So impossible.
I opened my eyes to a tilted head and curious orbs.
“I– my brain is– it’s —pluuuh.”
I used my hand to gesture explosions. The smile that followed expanded my heart. He was precious. So was his presence. There was something so calming about it, even in the chaos around us.
“I think it will–” he chuckled, managing a reversal of my hand gestures, “by the time we’re in the backseat with my driver at the wheel.”
I took a quick look at the time on my phone.
“It’s 10:28, Mr.-”
“Axel. Axel Holden.”
“Mr. Axel. Axel Holden.”
“It’ll be 10:30 if we don’t get going now.”
“That wasn’t a yes, Mr. Holden.”
“I haven’t asked a question, either, Ms.-”
“Pip. Pip Drucille.”
“Ms. Pip. Pip Drucille.”
I couldn’t stop the blistering smile that nearly split the corners of my lips.
“This way–”
He nodded, extending a hand toward the exit. With the other hand, he took mine. The second he was out into the aisle, nature began to reverse our positions. He led me through the crowd of people ahead of us, swiftly finding the loopholes and making a few when there weren’t any.
“You good back there, Pip?”
He paused to look down at me. Axel towered over me nearly an entire foot. My 5’3 frame was suffocating in the sea of people.
Nodding, I responded. “Yes.”
“Here,” he insisted, switching positions.
I didn’t have time to protest. I didn’t have time to consider the ramifications. I didn’t have time to process.
Oh God, Pip.
His body pressed against my backside as his arm snaked around my waist. He held me closely, shielding me from sharp elbows and wayward hand gestures from those giving directions. My heart tapped against my chest with urgency as if it had somewhere to be. Somewhere other than where I was. I couldn’t think of any immediate plans. Not any that I’d made.
Finally, we pushed through the door and out onto the sidewalk. Darkness made the lights around us brighter and bolder and a little harder to stomach. Cars lined the streets surrounding the establishment. Every inch of the concrete squares was filled with feet.
Honk!
Honk!
Taxis beckoned for those pouring out of the theater, willing and ready to take them to their destination.
“This way,” Axel commanded, shifting the direction of my body.
Cool air met my backside as he returned to my side. Someway. Somehow. I wanted him right back where he’d been. Suffocating me. Reminding me of something I hadn’t felt in far too long. A man’s touch.
I rested my eyelids on top of each other as I inhaled. The fear of falling separated them as I followed behind Axel. I wasn’t pleased with my position, but neither was I with the idea of demanding change. So, I pressed my lips into each other and tucked them between my teeth, silencing my thoughts.
Those long limbs stopped abruptly, causing my knees to lock and my spine to arch in his direction. Confused, my eyes shifted in three different directions.
“Pip,” Axel called out to me.
“Yes?”
“We’re right here,” he informed me, extending a hand toward the flashing lights just ahead.
Oh.
The enormous body of a Rolls-Royce forced my eyebrows upward, chasing my hairline. Beside it was a man quilted in black. His hands were interlocked in front of him. His gaze was fixed. His feet were shoulder-width apart.
Our stride continued, approaching the awaiting vehicle as I tried wrapping my head around the turn of events. Axel slowed his pace. He placed his hand on the small of my back, urging me forward.
“Pip, Frank. Frank, Pip. Pip Drucille.”
A curt nod revealed the true nature of Axel’s disclosure. My first and last names had been revealed. While it felt unnecessary, I understood the precautions Axel was taking. He was far from average.
I sensed it the moment I was alerted to his presence. Following him to a Rolls-Royce with an awaiting driver wasn’t appalling. The car itself was. It was beautiful. Stunning.
At the mention of my government, I inched closer to the car as I pressed the camera button on my phone’s screen. The lack of lighting caused a flash as I captured the image. Immediately, my fingers began working overtime. My parents’ numbers combined to make a group text we visited often. Tonight was more of the same.
Axel Holden.
Both texts were delivered simultaneously. I didn’t need to explain further. My mother and father would understand the context of my message fairly well. Should they need the information, it would be there. I had exactly twenty-four hours to assure them I was still breathing and reachable. Otherwise, the search would commence.
There.
“Satisfied?” Axel chuckled, head tilted and fingers racking at the hairs on his chin.
“I am.”
“Frank, I think you’ve pissed my guest off, and you just met her.”
His eyes never left me as he spoke to his driver.
“Not my intention, Miss Drucille. Seems as if we got off on the wrong foot.”
He stepped forward, extending a hand.
“My apologies. I’m Frank. Frank Holden.”
My chest sank two inches as the realization stunned me silent. My gaze darted.
From Axel to Frank.
Frank to Axel.
Axel to Frank.
Frank to Axel.
My cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
“Frank Holden,” I scoffed, taking his hand into mine, “a pleasure to meet you.”
“Likewise. Pay me no mind. I’m sure you tell your father the name of your suitors. Am I right?”
“You’re absolutely correct, but I don’t call him by his.”
“Better that way,” Frank said, shrugging. “Besides, I’m not his father.”
“No?” Confused, I looked up at Axel for answers.
“Not by blood, but by nature.”
“Stepfather?”
“Uncle. My father passed away when I was seven.”
“Makes perfect sense.”
“Good, now get in, Miss Drucille, before you catch a cold.”
I wasn’t sure that was possible with the heat cruising through my body, but disobeying an elder who didn’t mean harm wasn’t an option. Though my parents weren’t here, their teachings still held relevance.
I lowered my body onto the seat. The comfort was indescribable. Axel slid in from the other side.
“How are you feeling Pip?”
Nodding, I exhaled, “Pressured.”
“Don’t mind, Frank. He’s a helicopter,” he sniggered.
I shook my head. “It’s not Frank I’m worried about,” I admitted.
“Then what is it?”
“Naming a steakhouse that doesn’t disappoint you.”
Chuckling, Axel nodded. “Ah. Please don’t disappoint me, Pip Drucille. I have high hopes.”
“For the steak?” I questioned, finding his statement amusing.
“And you. And dinner with you. It’ll be rather hard hearing about the parents you sent my tags and name to over an overcooked or undercooked steak. I don’t know that I’ll be able to hear about your career and personal interests if I’m chewing on the same piece for thirty minutes at a time.”
With a playful roll of my eyes, I sighed.
“Is this how you steal them?”
“Steal? Steal what, Pip? I’ve never stolen anything a day in my life.”
“The hearts of the women you encounter? Is this how you do it? By not giving them a choice in any matter that involves you?”
“Am I stealing yours?”
His eyes penetrated me, going beyond my skin. I pushed the lump down my throat and took in a heap of oxygen.
“Is it, Pip? Pip Drucille?”
“I don’t know yet, Axel Holden. I need a good steak and a bitter martini to decide.”
“Then a good steak and a bitter martini you’ll have.”’
I slid my hand underneath my thigh. The fabric of my skirt absorbed the sweat on my palms. My heart hammered against my chest as the brake was released and the car began to creep through traffic.
The clearing of Axel’s throat pierced the silence.
“You don’t have to be–” he said, eyes still ahead.
“Have to be?” I inquired, fixated on his perfect jawline and lips and chin and neck.
God had done such a good job. He’d perfected the design he’d started with Frank and Axel’s father. I could only imagine how generous the women were with them in their younger days. Axel was a split image of his uncle, so I concluded he was his father’s actual twin.
“Nervous.”
His fingers slid across the leather, landing on my inner arm. He lowered them until they reached my hands. His fingers laced with mine, pulling them away from my skirt.
“I won’t hurt you.”
I drew in a shaky breath.
“I promise,” he assured me, placing my hand against his lips.
Pip. Focus.
The thudding of my heart transferred, reaching my center. I mourned my sanity because I understood the power of my desire. I wanted steak, but it wasn’t the only meat that could possibly end up in my mouth before sunrise.
Dreadful of the task, I pulled away from Axel’s gaze. Mine lingered on the window, watching as the bright lights began to fade. The center of the city was almost behind us.
“Maxwell’s.”
“Come again,” Axel replied.
“Maxwell’s Chop House.”
“Frank–”
“Yeah?”
“Maxwell’s Chop House.”
“You’ve got it.”
A gentle squeeze from Axel reminded me that he still had possession of my hand. It felt good. It felt real. It felt right.
Don’t get ahead of yourself, Pip.
I won’t.
Peering out of the window, I prepared for the eight-minute drive. Time was way ahead of itself. I just hoped it didn’t pass us by too quickly. Axel was the kind of company I wanted to keep.
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