59

She sighed, again.
“Whenever I wanted to talk about something, he’d tell me he wants to do something else, or that he wants to sleep. And then when I tried to bring it up later, he’d tell me that I keep repeating the same things over and over again. It exhausted me, but God, I thought I was in love. For the first time in my life, someone had looked at me. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t one among hundreds wanting to be cherished. I was it. He had picked me to give his attention to, so I clung to him.”
Ace turned to face her properly and listened.
“About seven months later, I found him in his car, at the place he used to take me to, making out with another girl. Later, I discovered that they had been doing that for five months and they were laughing at me behind my back, because I was the little orphan girl who had the audacity to think that someone actually loved her.”
The end of her story made Ace want to give her a hug, but he restrained himself.
Instead, he said, “I’m sorry, Ambrose. No one deserves that.”
Scarlett sighed and reached for a piece of garlic bread. “Yeah, well, it was a long time ago.” She looked at him. “You tell me something.”
“Alright.”
“Why do you keep having ‘agreements’ with these women? Why don’t you even try with any of them?” she asked.
Ace stretched his legs out and undid the top button of his shirt as he leaned back against the couch. “Those girls,” he said, “Are like McDonald’s fries. They’re only good at the time.”
Scarlett’s shoulders slumped. “That is the most sexist, misogynistic thing that I’ve heard.”
Ace shook his head with a silent laugh. “I’m not saying that because I’m prejudiced against women; I love women. I’m not even saying that because they agree to my ‘agreement’ because that would be hypocritical. I say that because I know what all those girls who’ve been here are like.”
“How could you possibly know what they’re like?”
“I ask them a question.”
Scarlett raised an eyebrow. “You ask them one question and just like that, you know?”
Ace nodded. “It’s a good question.”
Scarlett put her plate on to the coffee table. “Go on, then. Tell me.”
Ace raised an eyebrow.
Scarlett pushed back, challenging him. “What? Are you scared I’m going to pass your little test?” she smirked.
In fact, when the subject came up, Ace had wondered whether he would continue to be intrigued by Scarlett or be disappointed in her answer, as he was in the answers of all the women he brought up to his room. He was almost scared to find out the answer, and Ace Hardwood wasn’t scared of anything.
He hesitated. Scarlett raised her eyebrows, challengingly, as she bit into a new slice of pizza.
“I ask them, if they could go anywhere in the world, where would they go?” he said.
Scarlett cocked her head. “That’s your big question? I don’t see the big deal. Different people want to go different places.”
“Indeed,” Ace nodded, “Their answer instantly tells me everything that I want to know.”
“You’re a weird dude,” Scarlett said.
He watched her not give him an answer; not ask him what the answers these girls gave that disappointed him so.
“Their answers don’t satisfy me and I doubt they’d want to be involved with me for more than a night, so I think we have a win-win.”
“So, basically, you’re looking for,” Scarlett thought, “Your perfect slice of pizza? Good when it’s fresh, good the next day, good when it’s hot, good when it’s cold?”
Ace laughed at her analogy. “Not actively, but sure, I guess you could say that.”
Smooth jazz filled the silence where Scarlett and Ace analyzed each other’s faces.
“Tell me something, Ambrose.” She looked at him. “Why did Brad scare you so much today?”
Scarlett’s slice of pizza stopped halfway between her plate and her mouth. Tendrils of hair fell across her face as she cocked her head to a side, considering whether to tell him or not.
She had never told anyone other than Grace about Jack or about thunderstorms, and that had taken years.
Here, in a matter of weeks, she had divulged both to Ace.
She wasn’t familiar with telling people about herself, especially not her past or anything real.
She sighed. “I don’t like men like him. There was a man, a few years ago, and he I worked with him, or for him. He was nice. At first. Then, he started to become,” her breathing deepened, “He was a nightmare. I lived a nightmare with him, I ”
Ace reached out and patted her knee. “You don’t need to tell me, Ambrose,” he lulled.
Scarlett looked visibly relieved.
“But Ambrose, I promise you this, if ever Brad tries to hurt you, you come to me and I’ll make sure he wishes he hadn’t even looked your way,” Ace’s eyes were serious and deadly.
Scarlett would have been scared to see that look directed at her, but she knew she wasn’t the subject of the wrath. So, she curled her mouth into a smile.
“Oh, are you going to be my knight in shining armour and protect me?”
Ace straightened himself. “From Brad Windom, I will.”
Scarlett tore off a piece of the crust and put it into her mouth. “You forgot dessert,” she said.
Ace’s striking green eyes brightened. “I almost forgot.”
He got up and disappeared for a few moments before returning. He sat beside Scarlett and handed her a chilled can.
Scarlett’s eyes sparkled. “Whipped cream!”
She immediately proceeded to spray some right into her mouth, much to Ace’s amusement. He laughed.
“Happy?”
“This is the best dinner I’ve ever had,” Scarlett said, licking the whipped cream off the corners of her mouth.
Ace chuckled softly. “I’m glad.”
And he truly meant it. His heart, wherever it was, deep within him, twisted in pain for the little girl he saw in front of him who had endured so much pain.
He watched her with his chin on his hand as she held out the can to him. He shook his head.
“Tell me something, Ambrose.”
Scarlett gave him a look. “You’re going to have to give me something I want now.”
“I gave you whipped cream.”
“That’s just a part of dinner.”
“What do you want?” Ace asked, apparently in the mood to entertain requests.
Scarlett shook the can and dispensed some more whipped cream right into her mouth as she thought. In the midst of swallowing it, her eyes lit up.
“I want to see your room.”
Ace’s eyebrows raised.
“Relax, champ, I just want to see it. You make it seem like such a state secret.”
Ace considered her request at length. Finally, he sighed. “Fine.”
Scarlett smiled. “Ask away, good sir.”
“Why do you freak out when someone calls you sugar?” he asked, finishing another slice of pizza.
Scarlett let her eyes roam as she thought. “It’s complicated thing,” she said.
Ace leaned back. “I’ve got all night.”
She put her plate on to the coffee table. “I grew up in this home for foster kids. There were all sorts of kids there. This one guy, Oliver; he was about two years older than me and from the time we met, he always had it out for me. He tormented me and made fun of me; he knew about Jack cheating on me and he even helped Jack because he thought it would be fun. It wasn’t the usual pulling my braids. He drained me emotionally, mentally. I couldn’t do anything in fear of Oliver.”
There was a pained look on Scarlett’s face.
“I still don’t know why he did everything he did; he loved seeing the blood drain from my face. God, I was so scared of him. I couldn’t sleep sometimes because I was scared that he would come into my room and tell me something so horrible or help someone else hurt me like he helped Jack. He didn’t cause much physical harm to me, but his words and the things he did kept echoing in my head. I lived on everything he told me.”
She exhaled. Ace wanted to stop her because she seemed to be in pain, but he listened, anyway.
“He used to call me sugar. Especially after he’d done something particularly horrible to me; or when he was about to. I think he thought using a term of endearment would make the things he did better.”
Scarlett’s eyes were closed and her eyebrows were knitted together.
“He would say it when he walked into a room and there would be chill that runs down my spine, hoping that he and I weren’t alone in the room. Every time someone calls me sugar, I become that scared child praying that Oliver doesn’t come near me.”
Scarlett’s fingers were gripping the carpet so tightly that her knuckles were turning white.
Ace put his plate down and got to his knees. He tapped her knee. “A deal is a deal. Come on, Ambrose.”
He held out his hand and helped Scarlett to her feet. Suddenly so happy, she followed him up the stairs to the doors that led to his room.
Ace paused for dramatic effect and pushed the double doors open.
Scarlett walked in.
If she thought her room was big, this room was huge. There were ceiling-to-floor glass-paned windows with blackout curtains, and a small seating area that stood to a side. There was a stereo system set up in one corner. The floor was entirely carpeted with the exception of the bathroom, which was tiled and the closet, which was wooden. The room was entirely white and slate. In the middle, against a wall stood one of the largest beds Scarlett had ever seen.
She marveled at the space, looking from the ceiling to the carpets. “Wow! Do you want to switch rooms?”
Ace rolled his eyes and smiled as he stood behind her, watching her take everything in.
Scarlett walked over to the bathroom and flipped the lights on. There was a large his and hers sink counter, a spacious shower cubicle and a large jacuzzi.
“You have a jacuzzi? And I had a plain old bubble bath today?!”
“I do own the house, Ambrose.”
“I don’t care if you own the building, I’m using that someday.”