Grace Street (A Chapter 8 Novel, #1) (30 page)

She shook her head. “I mean
really
look at me; deeper than my surface appearance. Am I unique?”

Her question left a burning imprint on him
and he answered honestly while skimming his fingertips down her
arm. “Absolutely.”

“Do you think I’m intelligent?” her eyes
implored him.

“Without a doubt.” His hand moved to her back
where he traced the vertebrae of her spine.

“Do you think I’m strong or weak?”

He offered a small smile and nodded his head.
“Definitely strong.”

She regarded him with somber curiosity. “If
I’m all those things, then what exactly are you trying to ‘help’ me
be?”

With that one question, he ran out of
excuses.

“I’m trying my best to please you, but I’m a
direct reflection of you and your guidance, Victor. If you show me
honesty, you’ll get honesty in return. If you show me kindness,
then I’ll give you kindness
and
obedience. But if you show
me nothing but heartlessness and cruelty, then what do you expect
to get in return?”

A pain squeezed his chest. He had no answers
for her.

As if tired of the silence, she turned and
walked out without saying anything more, leaving him to sit in his
lonely denial of what his life had become.

***

Elsa crawled into her bed with the
overwhelming urge to break down, but she refused. She had cried
enough. She forced herself to see the goodness in Victor even
though it was a difficult thing to do.

She listed off his positive qualities in her
mind: Sometimes kind. Occasionally gentle. Always brave. Then his
negative: Constantly withdrawn. Habitually secretive. Repeatedly
cruel. It was like a slap to the face when she listed them out
because she knew which list was the most revealing.

She also knew what the smart thing to do was:
run like hell.

Even so, she had gotten through to him. She
could see it in his eyes when she asked what he wanted her to be.
She was so close to breaking him down, she could feel it. She only
hoped she could hold out and get through to him before she had a
mental break down.

She woke late Monday morning and called out
of work. She was still too mentally fatigued and knew it would be
pointless going in. Digging into her backpack, she found the
shredded, photocopied notes and attempted to patch them up with
tape. When they were reassembled, she laid them out on her table
but stepped away. She wasn’t ready to read them, not after what Mr.
Black had put her through the previous day.

Most of the morning was spent laying on her
couch in yoga pants and Victor’s t-shirt, listening to upbeat music
to try and sway her mood in a positive direction. It wasn’t
helping. Late afternoon she finally decided to eat even though she
had no appetite. Seated at the table with a sandwich, her eyes
drifted to the pages laid out…

Eight is still trying to figure me out. What
a fucking joke. I can’t be figured out. Can’t she see who I really
am? I’m Mr. Black: a man who enjoys the emotional and physical
torment he causes. She will learn the hard way that there is no
light in me…

Elsa pushed her chair back and tossed her
food into a nearby trashcan. She just couldn’t read or eat
anymore.

A knock on the door startled her and she
promptly scooped up the papers and put them in her bag. Through the
peephole she could see Victor holding two medium boxes in his hand.
Hesitantly, she opened the door. She hoped he wasn’t there to talk
about what happened because her feelings were still too raw to
discuss and she feared she would confess herself to him.

He offered her a nervous smile as he entered.
When he moved past her, she smelled not food but his signature
cologne. Placing the items on the table he reached for her and
hauled her into his embrace. His large arms felt so good around
her, but the misery of the previous day still haunted her.

“You haven’t eaten all day,” he kissed the
top of her head.

She nodded and opened the largest of the
boxes to find pasta primavera. “It was a lovely thought, Mr. Black.
Thank you.”

He skimmed a finger over the top of her hand.
“It’s Victor.”

She shrugged. It was the same fucking
difference as far as she was concerned.

Victor found her silverware and brought her a
fork. She poked at the food and forced herself to eat a few bites.
Seated across from her, he pushed a plain white box across the
table.

She eyed it cautiously. “I don’t want a
consolation prize.”

He sighed heavily and his eyes darkened with
some unidentifiable emotion. He opened the box himself and pulled
out a dainty, rhinestone encrusted headband. It was beautiful but
looked like something she might have worn when she was a
teenager.

“I thought it would look nice on you tomorrow
night.”

Elsa drew her brows together.

“I made dinner reservations for you and your
mother at Juniper’s downtown. It offers a wonderful atmosphere,” he
gave her a crooked, boyish smile. “It would be good for your mom to
see the best of what Richmond has to offer.” He dipped a finger
into her food and pulled out a long noodle and slurped it into his
mouth. Elsa couldn’t help but give him a smile when he was left
with pasta sauce on his chin. She reached across the table and
swiped it away with her finger.

The animation left her face. “You really
shouldn’t have.”

He lifted his shoulders in a half-assed
shrug. “It was the least I could do.”

Yes, the
very
least considering
everything he had put her through.

“I can’t stay even though I’d like to. I have
work matters to deal with. I hope you enjoy your day with your
mother,” he stood to leave. When he opened the door, he turned to
face her, “Elsa…” and shook his head regretfully. “I hope we can
move forward after what’s happened.”

A suffocating sensation tightened her throat.
There might just be hope after all.

*

The remainder of Monday was a blur. Elsa
never found the nerve to read the journal she was so eager to get
her hands on. Instead, she sulked all night thinking about having
been put in jail and about Mr. Black having been ready to send his
notes to a serial killer.

What the hell was up with that anyway? Was
she such a wreck in Victor’s eyes that she needed to be analyzed
and pored over? He admitted that he found her beautiful, unique and
strong. Not to mention intelligent. Why then couldn’t he answer the
damned question? What exactly did he want her to be – weak? So he
could break her down and make her do his will? Holy hell, she was
already doing everything he wanted.

Elsa tried to put it all out of her head. Her
mother would be there the following day and she just wanted to
enjoy the time with her.

Tuesday’s work day was actually productive
for a change. She half-expected to show up and be called into her
director’s office to be let go from her position or put on
probation, but nothing happened. No one called other than the usual
couriers to deliver more medical equipment for her to work on. She
kept her mind busy with her multitude of tasks and it helped to
take away the haunting memories of Mr. Black’s ruthless eyes.

When she received the call that her mother
was at the airport, she almost sobbed with joy. She left work early
and when she arrived and saw her mother’s serene face and soft
brown eyes, she fell into her arms and finally broke down.

Her mother looked distressed as she held her
tight. “El, what is it, honey?”

All Elsa could do was to shake her head.
There were no words to explain.

*

Dressed and ready for dinner, Elsa looked up
the address for the upscale restaurant Victor had made reservations
at. Thankfully, her mother hadn’t probed her for any information
about her break down. Her mother was only staying for the day and
had to return to Massachusetts the following morning for work, so
their time was precious but little and Elsa didn’t want to spend
one second of it ruminating over Mr. Black and worrying her
mom.

When they arrived at Juniper’s, Elsa mentally
thanked Victor for the recommendation and reservation. He was
correct in that it was a wonderful place. It was set against the
river and the view was outstanding. Her mother was thoroughly
impressed and chatty, and Elsa’s mood brightened instantly when she
saw the smile on her mom’s face.

Just as their wine was being delivered, she
heard Victor’s deep voice above her.

“Wine on a weekday?” he winked when she
looked up. “You must be feeling brave.”

Elsa measured him for a moment. He was
dressed to the nine’s in a tailored, black slim business suit that
accentuated his slim hips and broad shoulders. His hair was a
perfect mess and he smelled, oh, so clean and edible. The
darkest-gray silk tie he was wearing reminded her of the tie he had
worn the night he tickled her and she quickly averted her eyes for
fear he would see right through her shame.

“May I join you?” he asked.

Elsa’s mom looked bewildered and even a
little flustered. It must be his cologne. Her mom had a thing for a
nice smelling man, too.

Elsa hesitated and sputtered, not really
wanting Victor to join them. If he did, then she would have to
explain to her mother who he was. When she didn’t answer, he
scooted in next to her, pressing his body against her and wrapping
an arm around her shoulders.

“I’m Victor Laurenzo,” he reached a hand
across the table to her mother.

“Oh, well… nice to meet you. I’m Elise,” Her
mother took his hand and shot Elsa a nasty look for not introducing
them.

“I know Elsa was really looking forward to
seeing you. She even stated that she missed you,” Victor
commented.

Elsa sat dumbstruck. This polite and sociable
man was not the same one she knew from only a day ago.

Her mother took a drink of her wine and
looked him over closely. “I wish I had something nice to say in
return, however, Elsa hasn’t mentioned you at all. Are you two
dating?”

Elsa followed suit and took a big gulp of
wine. This would be interesting considering her mother was not
known for being one who held back her feelings.

“Actually,” Victor began, but Elsa swiftly
cut him off.

“No, we’re not. Mr. Black is a business
associate,” she sipped on her wine some more, wishing she had
stated that he was actually a ‘physical association.’

Her mother looked thoroughly puzzled. “I
thought you said your name was Victor Laurenzo?”

Victor lifted an eyebrow and glared down at
Elsa, but quickly recovered and flashed his pearly-white teeth, “It
is. The Mr. Black thing is an inside joke.”

Elsa nearly choked on a mouthful of
chardonnay.
Joke?
There was nothing funny about Mr. Black.
He patted her on the back and smiled down at her. The silence
lengthened between the three of them, making Elsa unbearably
uncomfortable. She didn’t know what to say and suddenly her
conversational skills were nonexistent. Her stomach growled loudly
and Victor chuckled.

“I think someone needs to eat.”

She tittered nervously and looked to her
mother, mentally pleading for her to speak up.

As if her mother read her mind, she asked,
“So tell me, Mr. Laurenzo, what kind of work do you do exactly? Do
you work with my daughter?”

His jaw tensed and Elsa spoke up for him
again. “He doesn’t answer personal questions. It’s a rule of
his.”

Victor’s head jerked to the side and he shot
her a discomfited look. She almost laughed at the stunned look on
his face, but she knew better. What the hell was he so
self-conscious about? If he didn’t want to be called out about his
unreasonable behaviors, then perhaps he shouldn’t be engaging in
them.

“Really?” her mother asked incredulously.
“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” she waved her
hand in his direction.

“Agreed,” Elsa dared to whisper.

He cleared his throat and casually slid his
fingers across her shoulder blades. Resting his hand on neck, he
gently squeezed, reminding her of her place.

“I suppose it might seem a little
preposterous to someone who doesn’t know me,” he answered smoothly
in his defense.

As usual, her mother was right on top of
things. “And how exactly does someone go about getting to know you
if you don’t answer personal questions?”

Victor simply smiled condescendingly and took
a drink of water and answered without really answering. “That’s a
good question, Mrs. Cassidy.”

“That’s Ms. Duchenne. I’m divorced and use my
maiden name,” she politely corrected.

Elsa rolled her eyes. “He probably already
knows that.” Her mother stared blankly at her. Elsa finished the
last of her wine and answered her unspoken question sarcastically,
“He knows everything about everyone.”

Victor’s fingertips grazed the nape of her
neck again and he tugged her hair. Leaning into her ear he
whispered huskily, “You are feeling brave, Ms. Cassidy. Perhaps
you’ve had too much wine.”

“Perhaps,” she responded curtly as she pushed
her wine glass away from her, but didn’t dare look into his
eyes.

What the hell was Mr. Black doing here
anyway? No doubt, making her feel uncomfortable in front of her
mother was all part of the next phase of his game. Couldn’t she
just get one day of rest without being submitted to a mind fuck?
With her temper quickly rising, she squeezed past Victor.

“I need to use the ladies’ room.”

“Don’t be long,” he grumbled.

With each step to the restroom, Elsa was
becoming more incensed that he had shown up when this time was
supposed to be private time with a loved one. Apparently when he
said to show her mom ‘the best of what Richmond has to offer,’ he
was including himself.
Egomaniac.
Doesn’t he have any
boundaries? Of course he didn’t. He had been stalking her for
weeks.