Dear Heart, You Screwed Me

I had my hair scraped onto my head; my messy bun had strands of golden blonde falling out of it. I didn’t have a clue what I was doing, my kitchen was a tip. Grabbing the canned yams out of my cupboard, I turned my nose up. I googled yams, and they were sweet potatoes. I didn’t even know you could get them canned. Preheating the oven, I scanned through my check list. Patting my hands on my apron, as I sang along to Enchanted – Taylor Swift.

I drained the canned yams, placing them into a baking dish with a few chunks of butter evenly over the potatoes. Sprinkling brown sugar lightly before layering with miniature marshmallows.

Placing my hands on my hips I looked at the mush in front of me. I didn’t know if this was a main, a side or a dessert? I would never put potatoes with marshmallows. I scrunched my nose up before slipping it into the oven.

Perfect.

Reaching for the already opened bottle of wine, I topped my glass up feeling pretty pleased with myself.

I looked around my kitchen, I decided to give the green bean casserole a go, but looking at it, I don’t think I’ll bother taking it. Something, somewhere along the line, well, something went wrong.

I heard a bang on the door, rushing for it, I swung it open to see Connie.

“Hey!” I called out.

“Hey you, you not getting dressed?” she eyed me, her eyes looking at my apron of the body of a busty woman wearing next to nothing.

I looked down at myself.

“I’ve just got to clean myself up,” I chimed, a little tipsy.

“What is that smell?” she asked, turning her nose up and sniffing as she followed the scent into the kitchen.

“Oh my fuck, is that green bean casserole?!” she called out as I followed.

“Well… it is meant to be,” I shrugged.

“Bin it. Do not offend the food of our ancestors with that shit,” she cackled. She picked the container up and dumped it straight in the bin. I went to object, but she was right. I couldn’t show up at her dad’s place with that.

“Are you cooking candied yams?!” her eyes widened as she looked at the darkening dish in the oven.

I nodded happily, now them; them I am proud of.

“Oh, we don’t eat yams,” she winced, I could see the sorriness on her face, but it didn’t take long before she stifled her laugh.

“So all of my hard work has gone to shit,” I slapped my hand down on my thigh.

“I’m sorry,” she laughed, swigging from the bottle and slamming it down with force. “My dad makes lovely baked sweet potatoes, so we can just load up on them.”

“Screw that, I’m bringing the yams!” I call out, “Now give me five, let me get myself presentable.” I start to walk towards my bedroom, “and Connie,” I call out, “don’t let my yams burn.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I could hear the sarcasm dripping from her tone. I chose to ignore it.

Half an hour later, we headed out the door. Connie sabotaged my yams. One job, all she had to do was keep an eye on my marshmallows, but instead of being a beautiful golden goo, they were black and crispy. Not at all like the photo on the website. I was pissed. I didn’t get changed, just brushed out my hair and added a little make up. I was wearing a scoop neck red, puffed sleeve jumper and black high waisted jeans, finishing off my look with patent Dr Martens. Tucking my hair behind my ears, I held my hand out for my ruined yams, and began heading for the main lift. Connie stood, just shaking her head from left to right.

“This way,” she called me back with her index finger. I looked at her confused, my brows pinching as I turned to follow her. We headed to the opposite end of the corridor and stood by a wall.

“Erm, what are you doing?” I leaned in and whispered in her ear.

“Just watch,” she smiled.

“Is this some platform 9 ¾ magic?” I giggled as I watched her pull a key card out and insert it into a little slot in the panelling.

Huh, I would never have noticed that.

The door slid into a false wall and presented a private lift.

“Connie…” my voice trailing off as I followed her into the lift.

“Yup?” she asked, leaning over and pushing the button that said PH.

“Your dad lives in my building?”

She nodded.

“Huh,” I raised my eyebrows, watching the doors close before we moved quickly to the top floor.

I don’t know why but I felt nervous, what if her dad was horrid? She didn’t exactly speak highly of her dad, just referred to him as her sperm donor most of the time, even if sometimes I could tell she thought more of him than that. I inhaled deeply as the doors pinged open into a lavish, brightly lit lobby.

“Dad?” she called out as she walked inside, I followed closely behind her. This apartment was amazing. The views of the New York skyline were to die for. She was right, her dad did have more money than sense.

“Hey Princess, in here!” he called out, and I froze. My skin smothered in goosebumps as the voice splintered through me. I watched as Connie picked up the pace and disappeared round the corner.

“Hey Daddy,” I heard the sickly sweetness in her voice.

“Happy Thanksgiving Pumpkin,” he cooed back at her, “where is your friend?”

“Oh,” I heard Connie sigh, “she was right behind me.”

I couldn’t move. My legs felt like they were cemented to the floor.

Connie re-appears, a beaming smile on her face, then following behind her was Killian.

My breath caught in the back of my throat, my eyes widening before I dropped the china dish I was carrying, everything happening in slow motion. Connie’s eyes moved from me to her dad then to the dish that was free falling out of my hand, my eyes were focussed on Killian. Our gazes burning into each other, tension growing constantly between us when all of a sudden, the loud smash of my dish on the tiles made me jump, pulling me out of my trance.

My candied yams.

“Shit,” I whispered, my hands moving to my hair as I stepped back. I couldn’t believe what was happening.

“You okay?” Connie asked as she went to step towards me.

“Pumpkin, don’t, stay there.” Killian held his arm out in front of Connie, stopping her. “Let’s get this cleaned up, we don’t want either of you getting hurt now do we…” his eyes flicked to his daughter before moving to me. I could feel the burning desire inside of them; my heart lurched in my chest. My eyes fell to his hand, his ring was still on. Mine wasn’t. Damn it.

An older maid ran out with a dustpan and brush, Killian ushered Connie back to where they came from. I finally let out the breath I had been holding.

I followed them sheepishly. I had never felt so out of my comfort zone. As I turned the corner, I saw the lavish dining room table that was filled with decorative pumpkins, candles sitting either end of the table. I saw Connie questioning Killian. Locking my fingers together, I stumbled forward.

“I am so sorry about the yams,” my voice was low and quiet.

Killian’s head turned to face me, his eyes soft, “Don’t worry about the yams.”

I nodded, swallowing hard. I wanted Connie to look at me, but she wouldn’t.

Had he told her? Or was she just trying to piece the parts of this fucked up jigsaw together.

“Excuse me, I need the bathroom,” I muttered, stepping back but waiting for someone to tell me where to go.

“It’s the third door on the left, just past the kitchen,” Connie smiled, her eyes softening for the moment.

I gave a small, weak smile, turning on my heel and walking towards the toilet. As soon as the door was closed, I let out a deep breath.

I need to get out of here. Standing opposite the mirror, my fingers wrapped around the porcelain sink.

“It’s just dinner,” I muttered. “He works with you, or you work for him?” I shook my head in confusion. I didn’t know what was going on. What a cluster fuck.

I closed my eyes. I just needed a minute. That’s all. Then I was going to sit out there, eat the food, drink the wine and be thankful.

My eyes flicked open when I heard the door click open, then close again. I felt my heart skip a beat, my breathing fastening. I knew it was him. My body reacts to him, even if I don’t want it to.

“Buttercup,” his voice was raspy, my skin pebbled.

I stood straight and tall as I faced him. Crossing my arms across my chest, my eyes scanned up and down his body. Wearing slim fitted jeans and a fitted V neck tee showing off the light dusting of his chest hair, the top of his scar on show.

“Didn’t think to tell me you had a daughter?” I snapped, my tone was sharp, but I was angry.

“Ree-” I cut him off.

“Don’t Reese me! You didn’t tell me you had a daughter; you didn’t even tell me you live in the same apartment block as me!” I shouted.

“You never asked,” he snapped back, stepping towards me.

“I never had a chance to!”

I heard him exhale slowly, his breath shallow.

“I don’t just live in this apartment block, I own it…” I saw him wince slightly.

“Of course, you do, same as the company I work for.” I rolled my eyes.

“Technically yes, but also no…” he smirked.

“Don’t fucking smirk,” I snap, “I am pissed at you! And what am I meant to say to Connie?” I stood, waiting for him to answer, but just as he opened his mouth, I stopped him and continued, “Oh sorry bestie, not only am I screwing your hot as fuck dad, I am also married to him. SURPRISE! I’M YOUR NEW STEP MUM!”

“Will you keep your voice down,” he looked over his shoulder, warning me, that delicious pull at the corner of his mouth lifting, “you think I’m hot as fuck?”

“Fuck off Killian,” I shake my head, crossing my arms again.

“Don’t swear under my roof… little girl.” He glared down at me, stepping towards me, cornering me against the wall.

“Sorry… Daddy,” I taunted him. I was raging. I could feel how hot my blood was thrashing through my body.

His jaw clenched, his eyes on my lips. The tension was thick, the walls closing in around me. I couldn’t breathe.

“I’m going back to my friend,” I sighed. Pushing off him, I opened the bathroom door and stormed out, not looking back.

I was on a thin line.

I found Connie swigging champagne from the bottle. Stepping over cautiously, I linked my fingers together as I held them in front of me.

“Hey,” I said sheepishly.

“Hey,” her tone was more clipped.

“Look, I can explain…” I just about managed, I’m sure my throat was about to close. I stammered over my words, shit this was harder than I thought it would be.

“I work with Reese, I’m her boss, sort of… I’m her boss’, boss.” Killian said from behind me. “I didn’t tell her I had a daughter, that’s why she was so shocked,” he continued, standing next to Connie and hanging his arm over her shoulders.

“So that’s all it is?” Connie said a little unconvinced.

“Yup,” me and Killian said in unison.

“Fine.” She rolled her eyes.

Connie walked towards the fridge and grabbed a new bottle of Champagne. Killian watched her for a moment before he turned towards me. A devilish look on his face as his eyes devoured me. He rubbed his fingers through his stubble, licking his bottom lip as he stepped towards me, his lips moving closer to my ear.

“I’m not finished with you yet, wife.”

My heart drummed, rendered speechless before he recoiled back and disappeared into the kitchen as I heard him talk to a guy.

Connie reappeared with a glass, handing it to me.

“Thank you, and I’m sorry for not telling you.”

“Don’t apologise, you weren’t to know…” Connie rolled her eyes, looking over her shoulder to see her dad and Frank the fucking doorman appearing.

Was it time to go home yet?