“Mr. Beaumont?”
I cleared my throat, scowling at her. “What?” I barked.
“I, uh -” She took an instinctive step back, colliding into the bookshelf. “I was just wondering why two libraries.”
“This is a library-” I motioned around us. “What you saw before is barely a salon, a place to receive guests somewhere a little more inviting than my office.” I sneered, “But you know all about ‘inviting environments’, don’t you?”
She looked away and blinked rapidly, most likely trying to keep the tears at bay.
I did feel like a bastard. I did. I was not cruel, no, truly I wasn't. I was ruthless. I took what I wanted and didn't have much consideration of what stood in my way and she stood in my way - in more ways than one and she was a fiercer adversary than I’d anticipated, and I needed her gone. She’d give up, there was only so much hate and condescension a person could take. I was crushing her, degrading her every chance I got - She’d have to give in soon.
“Can I use it?” She asked and I almost felt guilty at the tremble in her voice…almost.
“Why else would I have shown it to you?” I adjusted the sleeves of my suit before pointing at one of the highest shelves on the left. “I believe you’ll find what you’re looking for on this shelf - all the erotic literature, not many illustrations or pictures I’m afraid but you may be able to keep up.” I looked at my watch. “I have other places to be.” Anywhere you’re not. “You’re welcome in this room, but nowhere else in this wing. All the doors are locked and there isn’t much to steal”.
She pursed her lips and hugged herself but didn't say anything else. What could she even say?
I turned around but as I reached the threshold, she spoke.
“Thank you,” she enunciated clearly, her voice was devoid of sarcasm. It was one of genuine gratitude.
I should have kept on walking as if she hadn’t spoken. Her gratitude didn't deserve my acknowledgment and yet, despite everything I knew I should do, I didn’t...I couldn’t.
I nodded, keeping my back to her. “You’re welcome,” I growled. I then left, not stopping until I was in my office and helping myself to a glass of bourbon.
What are you doing to me, Opal Collins?
Dean Beaumont was Satan but for his library alone it was almost worth making a deal with him.
I wasn’t sure why he was so mean all the time. I’d like to say it didn’t hurt me, but it did, of course it did.
I’d never been hated before. And even if I kept repeating to myself that it was not for me, that he was hating Opal, not Amber, his animosity still hit my soul.
I sighed as I finished the clouds on Timmy’s wall fresco. I took a few steps back, stopping beside Timmy’s ‘sit-me-up’ floor seat.
“What do you think?” I asked him as he played with his giraffe.
He looked at me and smiled.
I nodded. “Yep, I love it too.”
We received everything from the store two days ago. I worked on the bedroom for hours, mainly to avoid Dean and also because I truly hated the clinical look of his room. It had no personality and all the books I’ve read said that colors and shapes were crucial to a child’s development.
I shook my head, concentrating on the new crib. I knew this could have been done by professionals, but I’d loved doing it all by myself. I was a hands-on type of person. I loved building things, making old, discarded things pretty again.
I yawned just before putting the final touch on the crib. These two days of work were not the only reasons why I was tired, Dean Beaumont was also a reason. Now Timmy was sleeping better at night, since the medication was working well and I should sleep well too but it was not the case, no my sleepless nights were mostly due to the web of lies I was so ingrained in I couldn’t see a way out. The more I lied the more I knew I’d be stuck with it - even if I managed to finish the six months what then? Would I need to remain Opal Collins for the rest of my life? I couldn’t! I loved my sister deeply, she saved me but I needed to be me, Amber. But I could see Dean Beaumont for what he was, a cold unforgiving man. I knew that even if it was in six months, one year, five years! If he ever found out I was not Timmy’s mother he would take him away from me.
I looked down at the beautiful little boy I loved as if he were mine, this was also the reason why I spent every second I could with him, I didn't know how long I could keep my secret.
I yawned again. “What about a story?” I asked him as he extended his giraffe toward me.
“Yes, we’ll read the one with the jungle animals.” I smiled at him. “What do you say, bottle and then story?”
Timmy let out a little shriek.
I chuckled. “I’ll take it as a yes.”
I picked him up and brushed my nose against his head like I always did when he was in my arms. Would I ever be over his baby scent?
“I love you, sweet boy,” I whispered to him as I prepared his bottle. “Always and forever.”
As I fed Timmy, I sat down on the rocking chair by the window and looked out at the garden.
I looked down at him, meeting his curious green eyes, and smiled. Everything that was happening was worth it - for him, everything was worth it.
I burped him, secured him on the side of my chest, and rocked softly as I started to read the book.
I must have fallen asleep because I automatically tightened my hold on Timmy as I felt him being lifted from my arms.
I opened my eyes to find Dean leaning over me. “It’s okay, let go,” he whispered and, in my sleep-mudded brain, he sounded almost kind, caring. Which, in itself, was a cause of concern.
I relaxed my arms, allowing him to take Timmy. I turned toward him, trying to wake up, seeing such a strong austere man carrying a small child caused my stomach to flutter. It was a vision that brought ovaries to life.
“Why aren’t you married?” I asked, the remainder of sleep loosening my tongue.
He tensed, his softened features hardening as he turned toward me.
“Why? Are you interested? Don’t bother. I’ve got standards.”
I sighed, looking away again. Why did I keep on trying?
“You look tired,” he commented as he laid Timmy down in his bed, I realized that this was the first time I’d seen him hold Timmy.
“Do you care?”
He shrugged. “I don’t. But you need to be healthy to take care of the child and right now, I’m not sure that this is the case.”
“Why would it matter? You want him anyway, don’t you?”
He sighed, looking around the newly decorated room. “You know we’ve got people to do that.” He gestured at the walls. “What took you days would have taken a team of experts only hours.”
Standing up, I winced at the shooting pain in my lower back. I had pushed it with that design on the wall, but I’d wanted to finish it today.
“This has nothing to do with that. They might have even done a better job than me. I'm not denying that but there’s a certain pride to doing it myself. In creating the right environment for Timmy. It’s bringing a little part of me to his space.” I shrugged. “I know it probably doesn't make much sense to you.”