King of Hearts
Page 79
Once she delivered it, complete with two spoons, King and I ate from either end of the slice. We kept taking glances at one another. It became so ridiculous that we both burst out laughing in the end.
King set his fork down and reached forward to cup my cheek. My laughter died away, my smile fading, as his eyes drank me in. “You’re so beautiful.”
“I’m old and fat,” I huffed self-deprecatingly. And look, I know I should have just accepted the compliment, but I was terrible with praise. Couldn’t handle it when people said nice things. When I was younger I might have given him a sassy, Aren’t I, though? But not now. Life had had its way with me. I wasn’t so bright-eyed and sarcasm-tailed anymore.
King frowned. “You are not old or fat. In fact, you’re somehow more beautiful now than you were before.”
“Maybe I just wasn’t very beautiful before,” I joked.
“That’s not true. You were stunning. I really shouldn’t have employed you. Even when I agreed with Eleanor that you’d be her replacement, somewhere in the back of my mind I knew I was fucked.”
I laughed and shook my head. “Oh, come on.”
“I’m being serious,” he said, his voice lowering, his hand still at my cheek. “Sometimes we see someone and they just suit us. They’re beautiful to us in every way. You’re that person to me.”
Well. How was I supposed to reply to that? He’d always had a way with words, always knew exactly the right thing to say to melt my bones. It seemed in all these years he hadn’t lost that ability.
“You’re that person to me, too,” I finally managed to whisper in response.
King’s chest rose and fell sharply, a turmoil in his eyes. I knew exactly how he was feeling, because I was feeling it just the same. We wanted each other, but it was too soon. He wasn’t well, and I had to give him time to heal, to gain a level of stability. So I simply cuddled closer into him, and enjoyed what he could give me in that moment.
And it was enough.
***
The following day I had my assistant, Dara, cover for me for the afternoon so I could leave work early to go and see King. Our time together the previous evening had gone so well, and I was eager to spend more time with him. When I bumped into Matilda, she told me she’d seen him walking towards the gazebo, so I went in that direction. The place was crowded with people having lunch, a lot of hustle and bustle, and I couldn’t spot King at first.
Almost every seat in the place was taken, and as I scanned the heads, looking for his recognisable long blond hair, I spotted him sitting alone in the far corner. I got the feeling that most of the circus workers tended to avoid him. Making my way past the people, I saw that there was a meal in front of him. A dark-skinned man walked past, saw King, and pulled a small bottle of vodka from his coat. When he spoke, his accent sounded foreign.
“King, my friend, got a little something for you.” He placed the bottle down on the table, patted him on the shoulder, and walked off. King’s eyes went to the bottle, and I stood there, staring in disbelief at the man as he walked away. Did he not know that King was trying to give up drinking, or was he intentionally trying to sabotage him?
My skin began to prickle as worry coiled tight in my belly. King’s hand moved toward the bottle then stilled, his palm resting flat on the table. His jaw firmed, and his hand formed a fist. I forced my feet to move until I was standing before him.
“What are you thinking right now?” I asked, keeping my voice level as his eyes rose to meet mine.
He was momentarily surprised to see me there, but then he winced when he realised I’d witnessed him about to pick up the vodka. He looked ashamed. “I’m thinking that I really want to grab that bottle and down the whole fucking thing.”
“Why would that man give you alcohol?”
“His name is Pedro. We used to drink together a lot. I’m not sure he knows I’ve given up.”
“Right now you don’t look like a man who believes he’s truly given up. You look like a man who’s tempted.”
King let out a long breath, his mouth firming into a hard line. “Of course I’m tempted. This isn’t easy, Alexis.”
My gaze softened, along with my tone. “I know it’s not easy. I’m on your side, never forget that. But think about it this way — if you drink that bottle, you’re back to square one. If you don’t, you’re taking another step towards getting better. You want to get better, don’t you?”
His expression was fierce. “Of course. I don’t want to go back to how things were, but fuck, Alexis, I….” He took another mournful look at the bottle, clenched his fist again, and then abruptly shoved it off the table until it smashed onto the floor. The shatter caused a few people to look up from their lunches, but nobody said anything. King ran a hand through his hair and stared up at me, his eyes pleading, “Distract me.”
Taking a seat across from him, I dug into my handbag and pulled out my monthly planner. It was where I kept all my work appointments, because I preferred hard copy. From the inside of the leather cover, I pulled out the Polaroid I’d kept there for years. Often I’d take it out and just stare at it, remembering that day on the beach in Rome and how King had taken two pictures. I’d kept one, and he’d kept the other. I placed it down on the table and slid it across to him.
“Do you remember when you took this?” I asked gently.
King set his fork down and reached forward to cup my cheek. My laughter died away, my smile fading, as his eyes drank me in. “You’re so beautiful.”
“I’m old and fat,” I huffed self-deprecatingly. And look, I know I should have just accepted the compliment, but I was terrible with praise. Couldn’t handle it when people said nice things. When I was younger I might have given him a sassy, Aren’t I, though? But not now. Life had had its way with me. I wasn’t so bright-eyed and sarcasm-tailed anymore.
King frowned. “You are not old or fat. In fact, you’re somehow more beautiful now than you were before.”
“Maybe I just wasn’t very beautiful before,” I joked.
“That’s not true. You were stunning. I really shouldn’t have employed you. Even when I agreed with Eleanor that you’d be her replacement, somewhere in the back of my mind I knew I was fucked.”
I laughed and shook my head. “Oh, come on.”
“I’m being serious,” he said, his voice lowering, his hand still at my cheek. “Sometimes we see someone and they just suit us. They’re beautiful to us in every way. You’re that person to me.”
Well. How was I supposed to reply to that? He’d always had a way with words, always knew exactly the right thing to say to melt my bones. It seemed in all these years he hadn’t lost that ability.
“You’re that person to me, too,” I finally managed to whisper in response.
King’s chest rose and fell sharply, a turmoil in his eyes. I knew exactly how he was feeling, because I was feeling it just the same. We wanted each other, but it was too soon. He wasn’t well, and I had to give him time to heal, to gain a level of stability. So I simply cuddled closer into him, and enjoyed what he could give me in that moment.
And it was enough.
***
The following day I had my assistant, Dara, cover for me for the afternoon so I could leave work early to go and see King. Our time together the previous evening had gone so well, and I was eager to spend more time with him. When I bumped into Matilda, she told me she’d seen him walking towards the gazebo, so I went in that direction. The place was crowded with people having lunch, a lot of hustle and bustle, and I couldn’t spot King at first.
Almost every seat in the place was taken, and as I scanned the heads, looking for his recognisable long blond hair, I spotted him sitting alone in the far corner. I got the feeling that most of the circus workers tended to avoid him. Making my way past the people, I saw that there was a meal in front of him. A dark-skinned man walked past, saw King, and pulled a small bottle of vodka from his coat. When he spoke, his accent sounded foreign.
“King, my friend, got a little something for you.” He placed the bottle down on the table, patted him on the shoulder, and walked off. King’s eyes went to the bottle, and I stood there, staring in disbelief at the man as he walked away. Did he not know that King was trying to give up drinking, or was he intentionally trying to sabotage him?
My skin began to prickle as worry coiled tight in my belly. King’s hand moved toward the bottle then stilled, his palm resting flat on the table. His jaw firmed, and his hand formed a fist. I forced my feet to move until I was standing before him.
“What are you thinking right now?” I asked, keeping my voice level as his eyes rose to meet mine.
He was momentarily surprised to see me there, but then he winced when he realised I’d witnessed him about to pick up the vodka. He looked ashamed. “I’m thinking that I really want to grab that bottle and down the whole fucking thing.”
“Why would that man give you alcohol?”
“His name is Pedro. We used to drink together a lot. I’m not sure he knows I’ve given up.”
“Right now you don’t look like a man who believes he’s truly given up. You look like a man who’s tempted.”
King let out a long breath, his mouth firming into a hard line. “Of course I’m tempted. This isn’t easy, Alexis.”
My gaze softened, along with my tone. “I know it’s not easy. I’m on your side, never forget that. But think about it this way — if you drink that bottle, you’re back to square one. If you don’t, you’re taking another step towards getting better. You want to get better, don’t you?”
His expression was fierce. “Of course. I don’t want to go back to how things were, but fuck, Alexis, I….” He took another mournful look at the bottle, clenched his fist again, and then abruptly shoved it off the table until it smashed onto the floor. The shatter caused a few people to look up from their lunches, but nobody said anything. King ran a hand through his hair and stared up at me, his eyes pleading, “Distract me.”
Taking a seat across from him, I dug into my handbag and pulled out my monthly planner. It was where I kept all my work appointments, because I preferred hard copy. From the inside of the leather cover, I pulled out the Polaroid I’d kept there for years. Often I’d take it out and just stare at it, remembering that day on the beach in Rome and how King had taken two pictures. I’d kept one, and he’d kept the other. I placed it down on the table and slid it across to him.
“Do you remember when you took this?” I asked gently.
