All the lights in his living room were on. I noticed that he had a new black leather couch on the mezzanine floor, just outside his bedroom, beside the poker table. I didn’t remember seeing that the first time I was here.
The drapes in the living room were fully open, offering a view of the distant lights from the other side of the city.
I found Nicholas in the kitchen, looking fresh from the shower too, dressed in a pair of pajamas and a white shirt. He was preparing some food.
“Hi,” he greeted me. He looked at me from head to toe, studying how his clothes looked on me. I suddenly felt self-conscious. Not in my wildest dreams did I imagine wearing somebody else’s clothes, especially not a man’s. “It was the best I could find that might be comfortable for you. I hope it’s okay.”
I nodded. “Th—”
“I know,” he interrupted. “Whatever, right?” This time, he had a grin on his face.
I nodded again. “Yeah, whatever.”
He turned to the bar in the kitchen. “I ordered some food from Margaret. She had it sent over. I don’t know what you would like to eat, but I was hoping pepper steak and pasta would be all right. I figured you would be starving.”
Now that he mentioned it, I actually was. And to be honest, I could use some comfort food right now.
He pulled a bar stool for me. “You need to eat.”
I sat down on the stool without a single protest. I wasn’t used to people telling me what to do. My father tried and failed for the last six years; hence he did what he did. He was desperate to change me, scare me, and make me bend to his will. Or maybe he did that out of pure hatred and loathing for the daughter who reminded him of the woman who stole his wife from him from right under his nose.
That was my father’s biggest problem. He never saw me. He always saw Isabella whenever he looked at me.
I was so lost in my thoughts I didn’t notice that Nicholas had already mixed the pasta on my plate, chopped the steak into bite sizes, and filled my glass with water.
I came out of my thoughts and opened my mouth to thank him, but he said, “I know. Whatever, right?”
The right corner of my lips involuntarily curved up into a small crooked smile. I nodded and started eating. He ate quietly beside me.
When we finished our food, I stood up from my seat and carried our plates to the sink.
“Leave it,” he said. “I’ll wash them later.”
I raised a brow at him. “It’s the least I could do.”
“No. I’ll do it.”
I started washing the dishes, not listening to his protests. He stood beside me, watching.
I grinned at him. “You didn’t think Ken Clarke could wash dishes?”
He smiled back at me. “Well, considering that Ken Clarke is a Princess… Prince…” Suddenly, he trailed off, not sure how to address me.
“Ken Clarke never lets the maids wash her dishes or do her laundry. Ken Clarke isn’t royalty in spite of living in a palace for six years,” I supplied for him.
“Well, what do you know? I learn something new every day.” He grinned.
He walked to the fridge while I finished up the dishes. After I put the plates on the rack and dried my hand on the towel, Nicholas prepared a bucket of ice with four bottles of beer in them.
“What’s that for?”
“Join me outside?”
“And get drunk?”
He stared back at me innocently. “I won’t get drunk on four bottles of beer.”
“They’re all for you?”
He shrugged. “Yes. I’m asking you to join me so you can enjoy the view. The beer is for me. I have milk in the fridge if you want to drink something.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “You’re very funny.”
“What? Ken Clarke never gets drunk, right? Because Ken Clarke doesn’t really drink.” There was amusement in his tone.
“If you’re purposely trying to get on my nerves, I suggest you try me another day. Right now, I’m maxed out. Now, add two more bottles to the bucket for me. I honestly do not give a damn anymore.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said.
After he added two more bottles to the bucket, I followed him to the glass doors, which opened up into a patio. The minute I stepped outside, I thought I was taken into an entirely different dimension.
The patio had a small wooden table in the middle and four wooden chairs. It had a small infinity pool in front and a Jacuzzi in the left corner. Lights illuminated the pool, and flowerbeds surrounded the house. The taller plants had white, blue, and purple spotlights from the ground adding to the relaxing yet mystical ambiance. The patio also provided a breathtaking view of the lights from the other side of the city.
“Are the lights okay? Or you want me to change the mood?” Nicholas asked.
“You can change the lights?” I asked in disbelief.
Instead of answering, he flicked another switch, and suddenly, the whole patio, pool, and garden were illuminated with green, orange, and white ambient lights.
“Holy crap, I’m in love with your house!” I said.
Nicholas chuckled. “The architect is flattered with your compliment.” He switched the light back to the blue ambiance.
I sat on one of the wooden chairs. Nicholas handed me a beer before sitting on the chair beside me.
We sat there for about five minutes in silence. I was still taking in the beauty of the view in front of me, trying to use the illumination to calm my senses. And to be honest, it was seriously helping.
“Blue is the color for serenity. The color to soothe the senses,” I said, speaking my thoughts out loud. “Psychology of Colors. Freshman year. Sorry, I just remembered it now.”
Nicholas smiled. “Color Theory and Design Application. Sophomore year.”
And maybe that was why he set up the lights to ambient blue. I could use something to calm my nerves and soothe my senses.
“Now, this whole house couldn’t have come from just your poker winnings. Unless you joined some prestigious tournaments that gave out millions of dollars in prize money.”
“I used to be roommates with this hotshot kid in college. Filthy rich. He asked me to design his father’s building in Paris. The money was good. And my design was featured in prestigious magazines. I designed three more buildings for them after that. Then some companies offered me good deals, so I would use their materials for my designs, including this house. They wanted a chance to showcase their products because they thought my designs were, I don’t know, a breath of fresh air, according to them.”
I nodded. “Your bathroom alone is enough to make me want to hire you. My father worked with plenty of designers, and they don’t even come close to what you’ve done here. My father’s hotels are the same as any other hotel I’ve been in. No novelty. Mediocrity at its best. I guess if you hire an interior designer, you go to their homes first. And anybody who would step into your home would hire you in a heartbeat.”
I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t even know I was already praising his talents.
When he didn’t say anything for a minute, I looked at him. He was looking at me as though he was seeing me for the first time.
“What?” I asked.
“Ken Clarke is seriously paying me a compliment?” he asked with wild amazement. His eyes were dancing, and I knew he was teasing me.
“Don’t take me seriously tonight. I’m in shock and seriously not myself right now. In fact, I’m pretty sure I’m having a nightmare, and I still haven’t woken up.”
“Knew it.” He chuckled.
We were quiet again for a while. Nicholas didn’t bring up what happened. I knew he was trying his best to act normal. To treat me as if nothing happened. I appreciated that. I was thankful that he didn’t force me or even try to convince me to go to the police and file a case against my father.
Maybe I was right. Maybe this was a nightmare, and I still haven’t woken up. Because seriously, who would do that to their kid?
“Does Jen call you?” I asked.
Nicholas didn’t answer right away. When I raised a brow at him, he shrugged and replied, “Yes. I don’t always get a chance to answer, though.”
“Why? I thought you were eager to crawl into her pants. If it weren’t for me, you might have succeeded already.”
He took a gulp of his beer and said, “Whatever gave you the idea that I was out to crawl into her pants? Or any other girls’ pants for that matter?”
I didn’t know whether he was offended, but I felt the need to defend myself. “You have a reputation of being a player.”
“I left town seven years ago. I did have a wild reputation when I was a kid. Girls. Criminal offense for vandalizing one of the city’s landmarks. But you might be surprised that people can change, Ken Clarke.”
“Yes. Sometimes, people can change for the worse. Like my father.”
Silence.
I took a gulp of my beer. I felt the heavy load inside my chest slowly throbbing. The pain I carried for a long time demanded to be felt, now more than ever. Years of enduring emotional torture, and now physical and moral abuse, were screaming for me to do something, to take it all out, feel something, and feel human. Because nobody deserves this regardless of their gender or sexual orientation, nobody should feel that they should be treated with less respect because they don’t conform to the old, mundane, closed-minded society.
Nobody should be forced to define their sexuality and be punished if they fail to comply, adapt or agree, especially not by their parents.
Tears rolled down my cheeks, and before I knew it, I was crying hard.
Nicholas put his beer on the table, stood up from his seat, took me in his arms, and cradled me against his chest.
“Shh…” he said in a soothing voice.