“It’s not easy to see a ghost.” I know that more than anyone else. “Where is he?”
“He’s with my doctor.”
“Your doctor?” I throw a curious glance between her and Ethan.
“I have a heart condition, and Aiden basically possesses my attending physician. Whenever he doesn’t answer the phone, he barges into his workplace or house.” She rolls her eyes. “Like today.”
Ethan squeezes her shoulder. “He only wants to make sure you’re fine, Princess.”
“I know that, Dad, but he can be so extra. Dr Albert hates me because of it.”
It strikes me then. The difference between Jonathan’s behaviour and Ethan’s. My tyrant disapproves of Elsa and doesn’t shy away from expressing his opinion. On the other hand, Ethan doesn’t seem to disapprove of Aiden — despite his menacing feelings towards Jonathan.
One is definitely more parental than the other.
“Tell you what, Aurora.” Ethan meets my gaze, still holding his daughter by the shoulder. “We plan to have a family dinner with Aiden and Elsa this weekend. How about you join us?”
I gulp. This could be either my last chance to try and fix things with Aiden, or to completely screw it up.
“Please come,” Elsa says. “I’ll make sure Aiden behaves.”
I smile at the enthusiasm in her tone and face. There’s something about her that’s both bold and innocent. I wonder how she gets along with a hot-headed person like Aiden. He’s so much like his father, it gives me whiplash.
“I will love to.”
“You will not.”
My back snaps upright and I nearly yelp like a damsel in distress at that strong, authoritative tone.
The entire atmosphere shifts from familial and fun to stormy and dangerous in a fraction of a second as Jonathan strides to the middle of the scene as if he’s the master of it.
The priest’s words and the slight chatter coming from the inside filter and vanish into thin air. Even the people greeting and passing us by might as well be invisible right now.
My entire attention is attuned to the man standing before me in his pressed black suit, diamond cufflinks, and dark leather shoes that I could see my face in if I squint hard enough.
There’s something about Jonathan’s presence that throttles and pins me in place without him having to touch me. The fact that it’s effortless on his part makes him even more frightening. He’s a man in power and he’s well aware of the fact.
All I can do is watch as he dominates the room and everyone in it. Or maybe it’s only me.
His black hair is styled back, revealing that strong forehead and his too-sharp jaw.
He is too sharp.
Everything about him is, from his suit to his face and down to his damn character.
He looks perfect tonight — masculine, groomed, and out to ruin lives. Which is funny since I don’t ever remember seeing Jonathan dishevelled.
Being presentable seems to be his default mode. It’s an extension of his infuriating confidence and how, if he chooses to do so, he can own any place he walks into.
Then I recall that he shouldn’t be here. I didn’t even tell him about the charity event.
“What are you doing here?” I pull myself out of the trance his presence never fails to trap me in.
He places a hand to his pocket. “I was invited.”
“No, you weren’t.”
“Black Belt.” Jonathan raises his brow at Layla.
My eyes snap to the culprit beside me, and I whisper-yell, “You invited Jonathan?!”
She fakes a smile at Ethan, who’s meeting Jonathan’s glare with one of his own, and then at Elsa who seems suffocated by the tension.
Layla pulls me by the sleeve of my dress into a corner and says in a low voice, “To my defence, I didn’t think he’d come.”
“Why would you invite him in the first place?”
“Why do you think? His bank account and the amount of money he writes on cheques.”
“I thought you hated Jonathan.”
“I don’t hate his money. Come on, mate. Think of the cause.”
“Ugh. Fine. But one of these days, I’m going to kill you, Lay.”
“I know you love me. Besides, you don’t have to check your watch now that he’s here.”
I hit her shoulder so she’ll shut up and she hits me back before we re-join the others.
“Sorry about that.” Layla grins. “Some differences in logistics, but it’s all cleared up now. Aurora is happy to have you amongst us, Johnny.”
He narrows his eyes on me even as he speaks to her, “The name is Jonathan.”
“You call me Black Belt. Why should I call you by your full name?”
Ethan and I smile, but Elsa stares frantically at Layla as if begging her to take it back. Jonathan’s bored expression doesn’t change. He watches Layla and everyone else like they’re disposables — if they have something to offer him, they’re good, if not, they’re out.
Right now, he seems to be weighing Layla’s worth, contemplating whether he should let it slide or crush her to pieces.
Elsa and I simultaneously release a breath when he doesn’t press the matter. Lay seriously needs to keep her mouth shut. Sometimes, it’s like she doesn’t care who she’s talking to. The girl is too fearless for her own good.
“I’ll send you the address to the house,” Ethan tells me as if we were never interrupted.
“Thank you.”
“I said —” Jonathan’s face remains blank, but his tone gains a firm, final edge “— she will not be there.”
“Is that so, Aurora?” Ethan asks.
“Maybe we should reschedule,” Elsa suggests. “Next week?”
“She’ll not be there next week either,” Jonathan shoots her down.
“There’s no need to reschedule, I’ll be there.”
“I’m happy to hear that.” Ethan’s lips curve in a slow smile.
Jonathan towers over me, his woodsy scent closes imaginary hands around my throat and squeezes. He speaks low so only I can hear him, “Did you hear what I said? You will not be there and that’s final.”
“Last I checked, you’re not my keeper.” I bypass him and motion at Ethan and Elsa to follow me, leaving Jonathan with Layla.
That should be fun.
I spend the rest of the evening trying to ignore Jonathan’s looming presence. He somehow ends up in circles of people who buzz around him like bees to honey. It’s almost as if he’s stealing the limelight away from the children with his presence.
Pretending he’s not there, I continue networking and introducing the associations’ representatives to the donors.
When I was young, I took everything for granted, and because of that, I need to revisit my choices and try to make a difference.
No matter how small that difference is.
Charity is all about giving, and I always feel like I haven’t done enough of that — giving, that is.
I’ve taken and taken and haven’t even stopped to look back once. Now, I have the choice to do something different.
Layla’s mother, Kenza — which literally means treasure — is a plump woman in her mid-fifties with pale skin and dreamy hazel eyes. When she catches me roaming around, she hugs me and rubs my arm. She has a French accent she acquired from her time living in France. Like Layla, she covers her hair with a hijab, but unlike her daughter’s hip-hop style, she wears modest, elegant dresses. “I’m so happy our Layla got to know you, Aurora.”