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Secret

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Chapter 4: Secret (Aaron's POV)

"What about you, Aaron?" Dad asked.

Now, after nearly forty-five minutes of eating with me. Now, he's finally found the time to turn his attention from his older son to his younger one. How nice.

"What about me?" I shrugged, pushing my empty plate away.

"How's work at that little publishing firm coming along?"

I rolled my eyes, glancing at Nick who hid his chuckle behind his glass of wine. "My work? At New York's biggest publishing firm?" I feigned confusion. "It's going great, considering our annual revenue is more than yours." I lifted a brow.

"That's good for the company, Aaron but it does you no good at all. You're an employee," he sighed, "nothing else."

"Noted," I mumbled, standing up.

"Where are you going?" Nick questioned.

"I'm done eating so I'm leaving. Isn't that why you invite me to this weekly dinner? To eat? Because if you wanted to talk to me, you would during the forty-five minutes I spent here."

"We were talking about work," Dad chuckled.

"Like you do every single day," I nodded, tucking my hands into my pockets. I shook my head slightly, looking at my father. "When are you going to cut it out?"

"Aaron, don't bring up the past again, man," Nick scolded.

I ignored him, obviously. "I'm heading home."

He finished the rest of his drink. "I think you should find a new place to stay, don't you, Nick?"

Nick nodded in agreement.

"I'm more than comfortable in my apartment, thank you for your concern." I pushed the chair back in and then left, ignoring their calls and goodbyes. I walked out of the dining room, rolling my eyes and cursing under my breath.

"Aaron." I stopped as our housekeeper, Ms. Josie, who used to be my nanny as I grew up, came rushing over with a bag in her hands. "Here. I saved some for you to take home," she smiled.

I took the bag from her. "You really didn't have to, Ms. Josie."

She patted my arm. "No big deal, kiddo. Drive safe, hmm? Goodnight."

"Goodnight." I gave her a quick hug and then left, starting my car and driving past the metal gates as security held them open.

It's safe to say I don't get along with my father and older brother. You'd think I would since I grew up right here with them. My mother was never actually here but she would visit once a year after my parents got a divorce when I was five years old. My mom left for the better but she left me behind and she knows it. She says she regrets it.

But I don't. Because the times I spent with her during her visits, the summers she took me to Paris with her, the months I spent traveling with her while she worked as a fashion designer... Those memories are some of the best I have. Her teaching me French, her native language, taking me to watch the fashion shows where her work was displayed and modeled, taking me ice skating. And then all those fun summers would come to an end and she'd drop me back home, leaving me with my dad and brother.

Who never paid me any mind, to whom I don't even think I existed. I still don't.

I sighed, hitting the back of my head against the seat and stopping at a light, drumming my fingers against the wheel while looking out the window. I glanced out the passenger window, looking at the entrance to the most popular restaurant in our area, Mirrors. I blinked, leaning forward and getting a better look.

Is that... Vanessa?

She folded her arms across her chest, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. It looked like she was waiting for a cab.

I glanced at the light, making sure it was still red, and then rolled down my window. "Vanessa?"

She looked at me and then right past me.

"Vannesa."

She shook her head, meeting my gaze. "Tell me you're not really here," she huffed.

"What the hell are you doing?" I glanced inside, spotting the rest of her team sitting by the glass window at a table. Everyone was eating, laughing, drinking. Everyone except her.

"Leaving," she deadpanned, "what else?"

I paused and then unlocked the doors. "Get in."

"Excuse me?" she scoffed.

"Get in the car. I'll drive you."

"To where? Hell?"

"No, heaven," I said sarcastically. "To your apartment, Vanessa. Get in the car."

Her eyes narrowed. "Why would you drive me anywhere? That's considered helping me."

"You owe me anyway, just get in the car. It'll save you cab money. And I'm headed that way anyway." I know where she lives because my apartment building isn't too far from hers. I've seen her on my way to work numerous times.

She hesitated and then moved forward, pulling the door open and climbing in. "If you mention this to anybody, I swear—"

"Please. As if I'd want to embarrass myself." I felt her glaring at me as she buckled herself in. I glanced at her, still waiting for the light. "What happened to you? Why do you look so defeated?"

"Not that you've ever seen me defeated," she snickered.

I rolled my eyes.

This woman is unbelievable.

"Never mind, I don't want to know." I hit the gas and moved along the traffic, driving in silence. I looked at her again, sensing something was off. Normally, if I'm near her, she doesn't waste a single opportunity to make some snide remark, nor do I. But she was being awfully quiet. My eyes drifted to her face while she stared out the window.

She looked so... tired. Not just tired, she looks bothered. Her phone rang in her purse and she snapped out of her daze, taking it out. She sighed and then answered, rubbing her temples with her free hand. "Hey, Mom... Yes, I remembered, I already wished them for their anniversary... Prometo," she huffed softly.

It's been a while since I heard her speak Spanish. I know just by being around her and observing her and hearing some conversations that her Mom's side of the family is Colombian, just how my mom's side of the family is French. She only speaks in Spanish with her mother, as far as I know, because her father still doesn't understand a word of it.

"Sí... Love you too, bye." She hung up, putting her phone back into her purse and then sighing loudly. I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye and kept driving. I was nearly at her apartment when suddenly, she said, "Can you keep a secret, Aaron?"

I found her looking at me. "Seriously... What the hell happened to you?" I asked.

"I'm having a moment, just shut up," she huffed.

I stopped in front of her apartment building.

She unbuckled her seatbelt but didn't leave. She just sat there. "How dumb would I be to trust you?" she questioned.

I watched her for a minute. "Pretty dumb," I answered.

"At least you're honest," she mumbled and then pushed the door open. "Goodnight, Aaron." She was out and walking away before I could come up with a reply.

I continued driving until I reached my own apartment and then let myself in. I closed the door behind me and heard the bell jingle that I'm now familiar with. I paused, placing my keys in the bowl. I walked to the couch, looking at the ginger furball. "Why are you back, Blue?"

He just blinked at me.

Ladies and gentlemen, meet Blue. A stray kitten, who decided creeping in through my balcony was a good idea.

I'm so tired of it already. I found a kitten, wet from the rain and shivering in my kitchen a few weeks ago. I'm not made of stone, so of course, I melted. I gave it a bath, warmed it up, and bought a little collar so I'd know if the little thing was in my apartment without permission. I leave the balcony door open every single day, hoping he'll leave. And he does. And then he comes back. Every damn day.

"This is trespassing," I mumbled, heading to the kitchen and taking out the bag of kitten food I bought. I put a scoop into a spare bowl I had, which is now only used for cat food, and put it on the floor next to the water bowl. I stared down at the kitten. "Blue."

He looked up and then went back to eating. Unbothered.

"You know, you either don't leave the apartment or you do. But if you do, you don't come back. That's how this works. I'm just going to stop leaving that door open for you."

No response, obviously. It's a fucking cat.

I went and locked the balcony door before going into my room where I changed and got ready to sleep. I flicked off the lights, exhaustion hitting me like a wave. I was almost asleep, my eyelids feeling heavier by the minute. And then there was scratching at my door.

My eyes snapped open and I huffed, slowly sitting up. "You've got to be kidding me." I opened the door, looking down. Blue let himself in and struggled to climb onto the bed. I lay back down and picked him up, dropping him beside me on the mattress. "Have you decided to stay then?" I mumbled, picking him up and placing him further away from me.

It was no use, he just moved back and lay next to me.

"I'm taking that as a yes. That means vaccinations for you."

Nothing except steady purring.

"Are you even a cat? I haven't heard you meow once," I frowned. Still nothing. I sighed and reminded myself that I wasn't crazy even though I was talking to a cat. I'm exhausted and need sleep desperately. So, I dozed off, ignoring the purring echoing softly in the room.

I have a cat. Apparently.

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Chapter 4

Men who own pets ESPECIALLY puppies or kittens or anything small >>>

next chapter: service

Oh btw here's Blue