Filthy Beautiful Forever
Tatianna tosses her hair back and turns to me. ‘So, what brings you to Los Angeles?’
My eyes dart to Collins, but he manages to hold his stoic look, unfazed by her question. In a panic, I try to take a sip of my drink but it’s empty.
Collins gets up. ‘I’ll get you another one.’ He steps over to the bar and sets up three more glasses, making another round for each of us.
I take a deep breath, anything to stall. I don’t like lying, but there is no way I’m going to tell this woman I came here in the hopes of marrying her boyfriend. It was so stupid of me to come. I wish I’d taken time to think about what I was doing instead of just rushing online to find the cheapest ticket. It hadn’t even occurred to me that he might not be single. Although I’ve always been a bit out of control whenever Collins was involved. Why should now be any different?
But I’m not going to share any of this with Tatianna. She would just laugh me out of the house if I did that. Her eyes are on me, waiting for me to respond.
‘I…’ I search for words, anything that isn’t the real reason I came. ‘I lost my job.’ I feel myself sinking down in my chair, unable to believe I’m about to admit to Collins and his girlfriend that I am a failed accountant. ‘I was fired actually.’ Someone please shut me up.
Collins hands me a new drink, and I take several fortifying sips.
‘What did you do?’ he asks. He looks genuinely perplexed as he takes the seat across from me. I’m sure the girl he remembers never would have been careless enough to get fired from a job. I guess things change.
‘I was an accountant.’ I look down at my drink, stirring it with the straw. ‘My boss framed me for embezzling funds. And I had no way to prove it.’
Collins holds his hand up as if to stop me. ‘There’s always a way. I know several excellent forensic accountants. I could help connect you with one.’ He leans forward in his chair.
The concern in his eyes tells me he’ll help me if I want. He’d always been protective of me, and I love seeing that side of him again. I chew the inside of my lip, considering it briefly, but I’m too humiliated by the whole thing, besides, it isn’t worth the trouble. It was a small enough amount that they didn’t press charges. I wave him off. ‘It’s not worth it. He only managed to get a couple thousand before he…or, rather ‘I’ was caught.’
Tatianna laughs. ‘The guy must suck at embezzling if he only managed a few thousand.’
I force a smile, but a few thousand seems like a lot to me. They kept my last paycheck to make up for the loss. It would have been enough for me to at least pay rent for a few more months.
‘Anyway, I’m here because I needed a place to get a fresh start.’ I stir my drink as I try to think of any topic of conversation other than my failed accounting career.
Tatianna yawns and stretches in a way that looks more practiced than real. She’s definitely not an actress.
I take it as a not so subtle suggestion that it’s time for me to leave. Humiliated, I stand up, ‘I should get going,’ I say, downing the last of my drink, and placing it on the nearest table. I head out to the hall and the direction I hope will lead to my bag and the exit. I may not have enough money for more than one night in a hotel, but I can’t stay here.
‘Wait, Gremli…Mia. Hang on, where are you going?’ Collins follows me out into the hallway, and catches my arm, forcing me to stop. The contact of his large hand closing around my upper arm sends chills zipping down my body. It’s been a long time since he touched me so intimately, yet my body recalls that night with perfectly clarity.
‘I shouldn’t have come. You’ve got…’ I wave my hand around vaguely, not sure what I’m referring to exactly. It could be the amazing house, beautiful girlfriend, or perfect life. Any one of these makes me feel small, but the combination makes me feel as if I could cry. I swallow against the hard lump in my throat and force myself to look up at him.
He smiles, making me smile.
‘Nonsense. You came all this way. I want you to stay. At least a few days. We have fifteen years to catch up on.’ His eyes latch onto mine, kind yet insistent. It makes me warm. He still has the look that makes me feel like I’m the only one who matters. How does he manage to do that, even while dating the drop-dead gorgeous woman in the next room? I don’t know, but I can’t say no to him. Not when he looks at me this way. Besides, the house is so big he must have ten extra bedrooms, it’s not like I’m putting him out or anything.
I sigh. ‘Okay.’ Just thinking about a bed makes me tired. It was a long day and a long flight. A yawn escapes.
He leans back into the library doorway. ‘I’m gonna give Gremlin here the purple bedroom.’
‘Who?…Whatever,’ Tatianna answers in a dull tone.
He slides his hand around mine, as if we’re still little kids, only now his hand is much larger, and my fingers and palm are swallowed by his firm grip. It feels completely natural, him taking my hand, and I follow him to the front hall where he effortlessly lifts my suitcase and pulls it up the steps. We venture down a long hallway until he finally stops in front of a door, opens it, and puts my suitcase down just inside.
‘Grem…Mia, I’m glad you’re here.’ His mouth hooks up in a playful smirk as if he thinks it’s funny that he can’t seem to call me by my real name. The first time we met, I was wearing a Gremlins T-shirt. The outdated, thrift store tee was the reason he’d had to save me that first day in kindergarten. Some of the other kids were teasing me about my second-hand clothing, and he came to my rescue. After he told the other kids off, he managed to turn the whole thing into a joke by saying gremlins were cool, then calling me gremlin. Not in a mean way, but as friendly jab. I was so thankful for the rescue that he could have called me almost anything that day, and I would have laughed for him. The nickname unfortunately stuck.
I smile. It is kind of funny. But I also blush because we’re alone again. Just the two of us, and he’s looking at me in that way, again. The way he did when he first realized who I was at the front door. I had no way to be sure, but his eyes smoldered as if he was remembering our first and only time together, fifteen years ago on the boat.
I remembered that night as if it happened yesterday. I’d been so nervous, but so sure it was the right thing, and the only way to really say goodbye to him. It was a way for me to give him a part of me that he would have forever. He tried to talk me out of it, even though I could tell by the way his eyes surveyed my body that he wanted to devour me. I was so relieved when he finally agreed, and also admitted that it was his first time too. Because it meant he also wanted me to have a part of him. A part I’ve held dear all these years.
He’d been so gentle, and so careful with me. I can’t say he was perfectly smooth, but neither was I. Still, his kisses were warm, and his arms held me close as we struggled to figure out the best way to do what neither of us really knew how to do. But then he’d taken control, laying me down and moving over me. He had been so tender and so attentive; easing in slowly and making sure he didn’t hurt me. Making sure I was okay. And it did hurt, but only a pinch and only for a moment. And then it was amazing. The feeling of having him inside me, filling me. The memory still makes me blush. And yet afterwards he was so worried he’d hurt me. I felt whole, so completely cared for.
But now, I’m thirty. And single. And jobless. And perhaps I’m crazy, but I want to recapture a bit of my youth – and the best part of it was him. Even though I pushed it out of my head for many years, as I grew older, I longed to share my life with someone. Not just someone. Him. Collins. My first love. My first everything. Deep down, my heart knew what my body felt all those years ago – we were destined to be together. I didn’t know how or why, but I knew he’d eventually come back into my life when the time was right. I couldn’t help but wonder if I purposefully avoided serious relationships all these years, avoiding commitment in order to fulfill our promise to each other. Every man I dated over the past decade was compared to him, and not a single one measured up. As embarrassed as I was to just show up on his doorstep unannounced, the boy I longed for all these years is now a man. And my body takes notice, my heart pumping hard as he watches me.
Now Collins is taller, and though still trim, his shoulders are broad like an Olympic swimmer. His cheekbones and jaw line matured and sharpened, and his once slender, soft lips have filled in, making them that much more lickable. Collins always stood tall and confident. His tailored, button up navy shirt is just loose enough to leave a bit to my imagination, and my imagination does naughty things with his beautiful abs.
He clears his throat.
My eyes drift up the blue shirt, which brings out the sparkle in his cool blue eyes.
‘I don’t want you to get to upset over Tatianna. She’ll be fine with you staying here.’
I nod. ‘Sure.’ I doubt that, but I won’t argue.
‘There are fresh towels in your bathroom. If you need me, my bedroom is at the end of the hall.’ There’s a pause and he smiles, making his eyes sparkle. ‘It’s great to see you again.’ He leans in and picks me up in a hug that is reminiscent of so many things. Our childish youth, our strong friendship, and our romantic farewell all those years ago. I know I shouldn’t let myself feel so attached to him after only an hour, but the thought of watching him turn and walk away into the arms of Natasha, or Tatianna, or whatever the hell her name was makes me want to rip out my earrings and prepare myself for a full on girl fight.
After several long moments, where I can feel his heart beating against mine, he sets me down and closes the door, leaving me alone in the room.
I turn and lean my back against the door staring blankly at the guestroom and wonder what I’m really doing here.
Chapter Three
Collins
The door to the guestroom closes and I just stand there, still in shock that Mia is inside. That she’s flown all the way to LA. And more surprising than anything is the fact she’s still single after all these years. Not that it matters—I’m with Tatianna. But still, my heart feels full seeing her again. I’ve often wondered where she was, what she was doing. Shit, I figured she was married with a couple of kids by now.
I hated hearing that she’d been wrongly framed and then fired from her job. Although the accounting job made sense. She was always good with numbers. In the various childhood ventures I’d started, she’d always point out my mathematical errors. Funny, considering I owned one of the top investment firms on the West Coast.
I wander back downstairs, but Tatianna isn’t in the library where I left her. The house feels cold and quiet. I head back upstairs to the master suite that takes up the entire second floor west wing.
‘Tatianna?’ I call, not finding her in the bedroom.
‘In here,’ she says from the Hers walk-in closet.
I find her hanging up clothes on little pink padded hangers. There are a half dozen shopping bags at her feet, and I’m reminded of our fight this afternoon. ‘Are you okay?’ I ask.
She stops what she’s doing and watches me. ‘Who is that woman?’
‘Mia? She’s a childhood friend.’
‘You never dated her, did you?’ Tatianna raises her manicured brows at me.
‘No.’ Not officially. ‘We were close growing up, but her family moved across the state just before we started high school. Does it bother you that she’s staying here?’
She shrugs. ‘No, I guess not.’
‘Come here.’ I open my arms and Tatianna drops the garment she’s holding to the carpet and steps into my arms. ‘I’m sorry about earlier,’ I whisper, placing my lips against her neck.
She sighs heavily and rests against me. ‘It’s okay. I know you have a lot on your mind with the merger and everything.’
The merger? That was three months ago. I don’t correct her. ‘It looks like you found some good things on today’s outing, huh?’ There are shopping bags and tissue paper littering the closet floor.
She nods. ‘Bergman’s was having a sample sale and then my favorite jewelry designer previewed their fall collection at the Grove today, so I swung down there.’ I listen as she tells me about her day, my thoughts faraway. ‘I’m just going to finish putting all this away, okay?’
I nod. She loves organizing her closet, and I know she can spend hours in there. I had it designed just how she wanted—with a brightly lit crystal chandelier hanging overhead, a floor-to-ceiling mirror on one wall and rows and rows of colorful high heeled shoes resting on the shelving at the end of the room.
I’m still too keyed-up to relax, so I head into the sitting room linked to the master suite and pull out my cell phone. I try to figure out which of my brothers to call while Tatianna hums quietly in the other room.
While I’m sure Pace remembers Mia, he’s five years younger, and his memories of her will be spotty at best. Colton, then.
‘You’ll never guess who showed up here today,’ I say in place of a greeting.
‘A strippergram?’ he asks.
‘No.’ I chuckle. ‘Mia Monroe.’
It takes him only a second. ‘No shit?’
‘Yeah.’
We each wait silently on the phone. He knew how close we were growing up. Which means he knows how much she meant to me.
‘Explain,’ he says, finally. ‘What’s she been up to all this time? How does she look? Why is she there?’ He shoots the questions off one after the other.
‘She looks incredible.’ I don’t know why those are the first words out of my mouth. Probably because the image of her standing on my front porch is burned into my brain. Gone is the slender, boyish frame of youth, and in its place are generous curves and the soft rounded flesh of womanhood. ‘She’s an accountant now.’ I don’t mention that she’d been fired or the secret marriage promise we made when we were ten that she’s come to collect on—because that’s crazy. It’s completely fucking nuts. And it makes my heart thump like it’s got some type of damn tick. Maybe I should schedule that stupid physical after all.
‘You still have a thing for her?’ he surprises me by asking next.
‘Of course not.’ Fuck. ‘I’m with Tatianna.’
He sighs, and I hear him tell Sophie that he’ll be there in a few minutes. ‘Yes, but we both know that Tatianna is just a convenience. You’ve been in love with Mia since you were five years old for fuck’s sake.’
‘I’m not in love with Mia,’ I drop my voice. Tatianna does not need to hear this. Besides, I don’t have time for love right now. It’s messy and unpredictable. I don’t do messy, or unpredictable. Never have. Wasn’t about to start now. No fucking thank you.
‘Well, now that she’s back, the least you can do is man up and fuck her finally.’ He laughs.
‘Uh, already taken care of.’
‘Fuck, man. She’s only been there a couple of hours, and you’ve already banged her?’
‘No, dumbshit. When we were fifteen. We were each other’s first.’ I have no idea why I’m telling him this information. I guess Mia’s shocking entrance back into my life has brought out my sharing side.
‘No shit?’ he says. ‘I always thought Erika Garcia sophomore year was your first.’
‘No. It was Mia,’ I say. ‘On Dad’s boat.’
‘Interesting. I always took girls there too.’
‘I know you did, you little horn dog. But I thought of it first.’
‘Damn, Mia Monroe,’ he says again.
‘So what should I do?’ I ask.
‘Listen, all I’m saying is that I know you were crazy about her. I’m glad she’s back in your life. Shit, I remember the year she moved. It was like someone took the spark out of you. Like they pulled the beating heart right out of your chest. You moped around for six months. Maybe this is a good thing. You can have some fun for once.’
‘Fun? You’re one to talk.’ Actually, Sophie being in his life has been a game-changer. He’s like a different man now. Much more light-hearted and easier going than before.
‘I’m doing just fine, asshole. Worry about yourself,’ he barks.
Maybe he’s right. There’s no reason that he and Pace need to have all the fun. Might be nice to join in for once. And if anyone can bring that side out of me again, it’ll be Mia.
Hell, this should be interesting at the very least.
‘Okay thanks, man. I’ve gotta run.’ I hang up wondering what the hell is going to happen next.
Mia Fucking Monroe.
Chapter Four
Mia
My eyes float over the room, taking it in. It’s much larger than a hotel room—the ones I’m used to anyway. This guestroom is almost the size of my old apartment. Three large windows stretch up towards the vaulted ceilings. There’s a walk in closet, a small oak desk and chair by one of the windows, and a seating area at the foot of the bed, with a loveseat covered in a purple floral pattern, and matching stuffed chair. I see why he calls it the purple room. It’s subtle, but most of the furnishings have hints of purple. I wonder if he remembers that it’s my favorite color. The thought makes me smile. But no, it would be silly for him to remember something so ridiculous, from so long ago.
The bed must be a king. I’ve never slept in anything so big. I wonder if I actually could, or if I’ll spend the night getting lost in the expanse of it. At least it looks soft. So soft. The lavender duvet is as fluffy as a cloud, tempting me to run and jump into it. Instead, I head across the room and peek into the attached bath.
It’s larger than any bathroom should be. There’s a double sink, a Jacuzzi tub, and a separate large shower with more showerheads than I’d know what to do with. It’s all so much that I feel my mouth actually fall open. If this is just a guest bedroom, what must the master bedroom be like?
Collins’ family had always been well-off when we were growing up, but this is more than well-off, this is wealthy. I wonder if I had looked harder online, would I have found him on one of those richest men alive lists? It’s intimidating. I feel like I’ve stumbled across a new culture and don’t know the customs or the language. I tip toe across the room, careful not to disturb anything.
I had no idea he would be this affluent. Of course Collins was a born entrepreneur. When we were six and most kids were opening lemonade stands, he figured out that the markup value on ice cream treats, combined with his cute-kid factor would put him ahead of the game and setup a weekend neighborhood ice cream stand.
The local ice cream man didn’t have a chance, and Collins made bank. Not that he needed it. No, I’m not surprised he is doing so well. I’m proud. He always had this in him. I smile at the thought.
I take another look around the room, and my eyes land on my huge suitcase. The one I packed with as many of my everyday things as I could, and a few very important items I didn’t want to cram in my parent’s small storage space.
Collins invited me to stay for a few days, so I might as well unpack. I hoist my suitcase up on the bed, unzip the front pouch, and pull out my old childhood scrapbook, flipping it open to the first page where I’d long ago glued the cover of a bridal magazine. The one Collins had found that fateful day hidden under my mattress.
I run my fingers over the crinkled paper, and smile as I remember the promise we’d made. It all started because of this very magazine. I’d found it at my babysitter’s house, and loved it because it had a purple wedding dress on the cover. I never understood why brides always wore white and thought this elegant lavender gown was the very dress I would wear when I got married. I liked it so much that my babysitter let me take the magazine home. I’d been hiding it under my mattress, and Collins found it one day when we were playing in my room.
‘Who’s getting married?’ he’d asked, wide eyed.
I snatched it away from him, trying to hide it a little too late. We might have been best friends, but he was still going through his all girls have cooties phase. Something I was normally immune from, but still, there were certain things I kept to myself. Or tried to. ‘I am,’ I proclaimed in the strongest voice I could. Still, I felt myself blush.
Collins wrinkled his nose and furrowed his brow in that way that made a small crinkle over one eyebrow. ‘No way.’
I rolled my eyes. ‘Not today. But one day.’
‘I’ll never get married. That’s gross.’ His eyes widened.
‘Yes you will. Everyone does.’
‘Okay, fine. But if I have to marry someone, I’m gonna marry you.’ He poked me in the arm with his finger hard enough that it hurt, just a little.
It wasn’t a romantic candle lit dinner with champagne and get down on one knee type of proposal, but at the age of ten, it was all I needed. And I wouldn’t trade that memory for anything.
In my bedroom that day, we deliberated and it evolved into a promise that if neither of us had married by the time we were thirty, we’d married each other.
Pinky swear.
I’d turned thirty a few months ago, and the promise had been lurking in the back of my mind ever since. But did that mean I actually needed to spend the last few dollars I had running across country to see Collins? It seemed like a good idea at the time, but the more I analyze it now, the sillier the whole thing seems.
I pull out my phone and dial my friend Leila’s number.
‘Are you really there? I mean actually in LA,’ she says by way of greeting.
‘Yes,’ I say.
‘I can’t believe you went, girl. You are crazy,’ she shrieks in her usual over excited tone.
‘You’re the one who said I should go,’ I say.
‘So? We were drinking. Besides, I was 100% kidding and you know that.’ I think back to when we met for drinks just after I was fired. We were talking over my options, or lack of options. I was about to get evicted for non-payment of rent. She offered me her sofa in the tiny one bedroom she shared with her husband and newborn. No thank you. Then suggested my parents’ place, which was even smaller than hers. The next thing out of her mouth was a joke, ‘Maybe you should move to LA and marry that Collins guy.’
She laughed. But I didn’t. The mention of my childhood love made my cheeks warm and my belly churn. It seemed like an option, one as good as any other. Maybe even better. Just the thought of seeing Collins again had been so enticing.
But now that I was really here, I was questioning myself. ‘I know,’ I say. ‘I shouldn’t have come. He’s got a live-in girlfriend, and she’s super beautiful.’
‘Mia, I’m sorry. But what did you expect?’
My inner romantic knows exactly what I expected. He was going to open the door, recognize me at once, and we would be married the next day. ‘I know. It was childish of me to come.’
‘But you’re in his house? Does that mean he invited you to stay?’
‘For a few days.’
‘And he has a guest bedroom, or a couch or whatever?’
I laugh. ‘It’s more like a guest suite. He’s doing really well. His house is amazing, Leila. He’s got so many guest rooms they name them. I’m in the Purple Room.’
‘Well, sounds like you might be okay there for a few days then. But remember—my couch is always open if you need a place to crash. And if things get weird there, I will find a way to loan you the money for a ticket home.’
I know she means it. Leila’s a great friend, but there’s no way I’ll let them cut into their small savings to fly me home. Not with their newborn and all. ‘No you won’t. I’ll be fine,’ I say.
‘The offer is there.’
‘Thank you.’
We get off the phone, and I chew on my lip as I mull over my situation. When I told Collins what I was doing here, he seemed kind of stunned. Not that we ever really talked about it since we were interrupted by Tatianna’s arrival.