Mia Found (Starting Fires Book 3) (19 page)

Sitting in his car, I looked up the stairs to my apartment door. Fiona’s car was gone, but I was nervous. She and I needed talk.
She’d made a pass at Paul.
Several, most likely. Yes, I’d withheld knowledge of Fontenot, but I hadn’t been a vital part in any of his antics.

Despite all of that and how angry she’d made me, I was sad. Our friendship was over. We’d more than likely never speak once our lease was up. Paul offered to come inside with me, but I declined. It would be better if he wasn’t there when we had our discussion. He kissed me goodbye, and I slowly walked up the steps, swallowing the knot in my throat.

Inside, things looked different, and I couldn’t put my finger on it. When I reached for the end table to turn on the lamp, my hand found only air. It was gone. I flicked the wall switch instead.

Our TV was gone. The walls were missing paintings and decorations. Had we been robbed? Nervously, I walked to Fiona’s room and pushed the door open.

Empty. No bed. No dresser. Only a few bits of trash littering the floor. I walked to the kitchen ready to call her, but found a note on our table.

I paid my portion of the last two months on our lease with money I EARNED selling my paintings, because unlike some people, I don’t need my stuck up boyfriend to hold my hand and get favors for me. Fuck you. Have a nice fucking life.

She was such a self-absorbed brat. I took the note and threw it away, trying to look on the bright side. We might not get our closure, but at least I didn’t have to share an apartment with her any longer.

I wondered where she’d gone. Her parents probably wouldn’t have let her move back home, and even though I knew she had other friends, none of them seemed responsible enough to have their own place.

Without her TV, I had no other way to pass the time but to paint.

So I painted. And painted. And painted some more.

It was 2 a.m. when I finally crawled into bed, splotches of colors on my arms and face. Three new pieces were drying in my kitchen and I sighed. Mostly from relief, but a tiny ache lingered in my chest.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

I WAS LONELY THE first few days, remembering all the good times she and I had, trying to decide where I went wrong and how I could have been different. It didn’t matter what she’d done. I was at fault too. After a while I let my guilt go and tried to enjoy it.

Paul would come over and I loved being able to sit with him on my couch. We listened to the radio and there was no Fontenot, no Fiona, nothing at all to disturb us.

But he was more reserved now. Our intimate bubble had burst and he made sure not to take things too far with me. He didn’t trust himself, he’d said.

For my own sanity, I had to make peace with this. I’d gone years without sex. I could last a few more weeks or months, if that’s what Paul wanted. But to do that, I had to be more reserved too. I was still liberal with my affection, but I’d stepped back.

He was leaving for Florida and I was watching Ferdinand for him again. Five whole days he’d be gone. And it might even be longer. Paul couldn’t be sure.

I was in his living room watching him get ready to leave. “Why does it have to be so long? Can’t they find someone else to do…whatever is you do down there?”

“
They could,” he smiled, “but it’s cheaper for them this way. They only have to pay me when I’m actually there. And my boss here doesn’t mind as long as I bust ass when I’m back. It’s gonna pay off, though. I’m bringing in a lot of extra cash.”

This coming from the man who said it was better to follow your passion than the money. “And what are you going to do with all this
extra cash.
” His townhouse was nice. His car was new. He never had time for anything besides work.

“
I don’t know,” he said, stuffing his feet into his shoes. “I could buy a house somewhere quiet. Go on a trip. See the world. Who knows?”

His plane was leaving in only a few hours and I’d already brought my suitcase over. Paul didn’t even dress down to fly. “Do you even own a pair of jeans?” I asked as he stood from the couch. Playfully, I grabbed his tie and pulled him towards me. “I bet you’d look sexy in a pair of jeans.”

“
I don’t look sexy now?”

He knew he did. There was something downright hot about seeing him in slacks and dress shirts. He purchased his clothes well. Pairing shirts and ties with just the right pants. He looked confident and powerful.

“
I
love
the way you dress,” I said, pulling his mouth down to mine.

“
You, too,” he said, grabbing me around the waist and lifting me into the air. As if I weighed nothing, he wrapped my legs around his waist and kissed me long and hard. I was too consumed by it to tell him his compliment didn’t count. I’d said it first.

“
I’ll be back before you know it,” he said, walking with me to the door. Ferdinand saw us from the kitchen and began barking, not sure what was going on. “Calm down,” he laughed at him. “I’m putting your lady down.”

Ferdinand ran over to me and nudged his head against my legs, sniffing and licking, almost as if he was trying to make sure I was okay. “Don’t worry, boy,” I said. “Your daddy’s not taking me with him. Not this time anyway.”

“
I’ll call you when I land,” he said, giving me one more kiss.

When he was gone, I settled into his couch and applied for jobs. Fiona had quit Faeries and Moonbeams so I was getting extra hours there, but not enough to fully support me. All of the positions in my area were filled. Art History wasn’t a highly desirable field where I lived. I searched New Orleans and Baton Rouge, but there weren’t any openings. If I wanted to work in the field I loved, I’d either have to be poor or move. There was no way around it.

I looked around Paul’s apartment and knew I wasn’t ready for that. What would happen between us if I moved? Maybe there was wisdom to his fears. Would we try to maintain our relationship long distance? No. Not yet. I didn’t have to move. And Paul didn’t have to go to Florida. That would be a last resort. I had time to find something.

Ferdinand and I enjoyed our time together and I realized over the last few weeks he’d been sorely neglected. All of my and Paul’s attention had been on each other, the poor boy left to keep himself company. To make up for it, I spent all of my free time with him. We went to parks and on walks frequently. I spoiled him. I spoiled him rotten.

Paul had called me the night he landed, but I’d barely heard from him since. Our texts were short, and beginning to feel forced. His phone calls were always late into the night and he’d sound exhausted. He’d been in Florida four days, but it felt like weeks.

The clock on his nightstand read 10:23p.m. He was on the other end of the phone, yawning into my ear. “I’m sorry,” he said. “This just takes a lot out of you. All the numbers are starting to give me a headache.”

“
Don’t worry about it,” I said, knowing he cared about me. I could be understanding here. Work was taking its toll. “You don’t have to text or call if you’re tired.”

“
No, no, I want to,” he said on another yawn.

“
Have you been at the office all night?”

“
No,” he said. “We left about 6 and went to dinner but had to go back. But I, uh, I’ve got some bad news.”

My stomach sank and I sat up in his bed. “Oh, no,” I said. “What’s happened?”

“
I have to stay longer. At least another week.”

“
Oh,” I said, disappointed.

“
I’m sorry.” He sighed. “I know how bad this sucks.”

I wondered if it was worth it to him. All of this stress. This jumbling of his life. “No…no, it’s fine,” I said, trying to be agreeable rather than selfish.

We fell silent. I wanted to tell him I missed him, but I couldn’t. My pride was wounded. He’d barely spoken to me over the last few days, and I knew the rest would be the same. Over there, in Florida, I was a distraction, an afterthought. All of our tender, sweet moments spent in this bed and our city were far from his mind. He pushed me out so he could accomplish what he needed to. It hurt and I needed
him
to open up to
me
, to nurse my superficial wounds and help me deal with this distance.

“
Mia,” he said, “it’s only a week. I’ll make it up to you.”

“
It’s just…” Over-sensitive tears filled my eyes.

“
I know,” he said. “I know, Pretty. Trust me, I want to come home to you.”

I took a breath and tried to push my self-centered thoughts away. He was busy working, and despite that, he still tried to make time for me.

“
Okay,” I said.

Paul sighed. “I’ll try to get this done as fast as I can, okay?”

It made me feel guilty. Already he was overly worked. In an attempt to please me, he was going to push himself harder. “Don’t worry about me,” I said. “I understand. I mean, I want you to come home, but I don’t want you to be stressed. I’ll be fine.”

“
You’re sweet,” he said and I could hear the smile in his voice.

“
Get some rest, Paul.”

“
You, too.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

ONE WEEK CAME AND went.
Just a few more days,
he’d said. Paul’s late night phone calls had tapered off. I’d lie in his bed, waiting, longing, but the calls never came. The most he gave me was a morning text message and sometimes another in the late afternoon.

A part of me wanted to throw a fit and demand he make time for me, but I couldn’t be that girl. It felt egotistical. He needed space to accomplish what he needed to, and even though I wasn’t used to it, with each passing day I understood what it meant to be with Paul.

If I wanted the sweet, tender moments, I’d have to accept the late hours and stressful weeks. He’d make it up to me. And who knew, maybe one day he’d have to return the favor. Maybe one day
I’d
be the one stuck at the office, pouring over art pieces while he twiddled his thumbs at home.

This is what love is,
I told myself. Sacrifice. Work. Forgiveness.

Gladys hired a new employee and the two of us immediately butted heads. Since her first day, she’d made it her mission to assert her dominance. She was also an unapologetic suck up. When Gladys engaged her with New Age studies of crystals or meditation, she’d smile and ask questions, sounding thoroughly interested, but as soon as Gladys walked away, she’d huff and say something rude under her breath.

It made me strangely protective. Gladys
was
a “wacko” but she was
my
wacko.

My shift was ending, and I was grateful. I couldn’t stand to watch Yazra’s fake smile and put on laugh any longer. I waved to Gladys and went home to Paul’s.

Ferdinand and I went for a walk. It had turned out to be my favorite thing about the day. Paul’s complex was beautifully landscaped and his neighbors were all friendly. I met Mr. Schumacher, a crotchety old man who watered his small garden every afternoon. He wore a scowl and looked at you with small beady eyes, but if you asked him about his azalea’s his face changed. Now when I walked past his home, he gave me a wave and a bright smile.

Mrs. Harriet was a middle aged woman who loved cats. She knew how stereotypical her obsession was and found the humor in it. She’d dress them in ridiculous outfits and take their pictures on the grass, laughing at how silly they looked.

Ferdinand and I were walking by her house. A white, fluffy cat was dressed as an astronaut, cautiously stepping around the grass. I smiled and gave her a wave.

Paul’s townhouse was just around the corner, and all the breath left me as I made the turn. He was standing on the sidewalk in front of his door. I watched him knock on the wood, and wondered why? Maybe he’d lost his key?

I squinted. No. This man’s shoulders were too broad. His hair wasn’t the right cut. He turned and I saw his profile.

Rick.

I hesitated, wondering what he could be doing here. Paul’s brother noticed me standing down the sidewalk and waved. When he started moving towards me, my feet found their purpose and I went to meet him.

“
Hey,” he said with a bright smile. “It’s good to see you again.”

“
Hey,” I said warily.

“
Is Paul home? I was hoping to talk with him.”

I made my way towards his house, hoping Rick would leave and I could be rid of him. “Afraid not,” I said over my shoulder. “He’s in Florida.”

“
Oh.” His steps fell in beside mine. “Well, when does he get back.”

“
I’m not sure.”

“
Really? You’d think his girlfriend would know when he’d be coming home.”

He was smiling. I could feel it even though I wasn’t looking at him.