Unhinge - Calia Read Page 0,55
I gathered the long-stemmed roses and held them out to Sinclair. “Here’s your bouquet. I wish you well in your future failed marriage.”
Sinclair lifted a brow. “I don’t know how she does this shit. I’m getting high off all these flowers.”
“She has a talent, that’s for sure.”
“Apparently you do too if she lets you help her create her bouquet masterpieces.”
I shrugged and went back to trimming the stems of some black roses. Sinclair was still dressed in black pants and a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The logo of his construction company was on the left side of his shirt. He’d been here for an hour and showed no signs of leaving soon. It was fine by me. I loved when he was around, which lately was a lot.
We started talking on the phone just days after Wes and I moved into our house. They were quick conversations that became steadily longer. Soon we started to email each other.
He never came to my house. Instead I would spend time with him at Renee’s shop. It was our meeting place and I cherished every second; without him something malignant lived in me, slowly killing me. Around him, though, I came alive. I could breathe.
I could be.
It was hard to believe that I had met Sinclair only nine months ago. It felt like it had been longer. We talked to each other with such ease. He never looked uninterested in what I had to say. It felt amazing to know someone was listening to me.
During all this, we never did anything inappropriate. We knew there was an invisible line between the two of us that neither should cross. But I was inching closer and closer to that line and it was getting harder and harder not to cross it.
“Why are you all dressed up?” I asked him.
“I had a meeting with a potential client. A huge house out on Bellamy Road.”
“I could be getting a new neighbor?”
He grinned and my stomach twisted. “You could, but nothing’s set in stone.”
I bit down on my lip to hide my smile. I loved that Sinclair was confiding in me. When I asked him how his day was going, he didn’t shrug his shoulders and slam his office door. He didn’t narrow his eyes and ask what my angle was. He told me the truth. Someday, in the near future, I hoped I could do the same with him.
Gathering the stems, I tossed them in the trash. “How did you live with her growing up?” I asked over my shoulder.
“Oh, it was a nightmare.”
“Really?”
Sinclair nodded and grinned devilishly. Already I could see the mischievous brother he was to Renee. “Her room was always spotless. Every single thing had a place. Everything. If anything was ever moved from its designated area the world was over.”
“And your room?”
“Fucking disaster. It drove her crazy. When she got in trouble, she never got grounded or had things taken away. No, our mom would make her hang out in my room.”
Resting my elbows on the worktable, I smiled and leaned in closer. Both Renee and Sinclair had this…spark about them. Instinctively, people were drawn toward them, anxious to hear the next words that slipped from their lips.
“Poor Renee,” I commented.
“Not poor Renee,” Sinclair quickly replied. “More like poor world. Or poor Sinclair!”
I grabbed the broom leaning against the wall and swept the floor for the millionth time; honestly, this place was immaculate. “It’s probably a good thing that we met as adults then,” I said.
“Why?”
“She sounds like she’s always had her life put together. Whereas mine has been…scattered.”
“Really?”
I nodded. “I was the youngest. I was carefree and wild. If things got done, they did. If something was wrong, then just figure out a way to fix it. I switched my major so many times in college I lost count. I wanted to dip my hands into everything, ignoring the fact that it was impossible. It drove my mother crazy how relaxed I was. It still does.”
“You sound more like a free-love hippie than the ‘youngest child.’ ”
I gave him a look over my shoulder and continued cleaning up. “All I’m saying is that she would’ve taken one look at wild Victoria and run in the other direction.”
“Doubtful. You probably looked beautiful then, just as you do now.” He said the words so quietly that at first they didn’t register. Kind of like a whisper—it took a second to process.
My head lifted and I found Sinclair looking