Exposed

Chapter Two

"I've been with no one else, Matteo."

"No, neither have I."

I chuckle, shaking my head and he stares down at me, amused. "What?"

"We've successfully pulled off a break," I state in amazement. He laughs with a nod and looks up into the dark cloudy sky. Distractedly, I gaze at him long after he catches me staring.

He reaches for my hand, entwining our fingers. "But that's done now."

I nod, more than happy to agree. "That's done now."

***

I inhale a deep nervous breath as the taxi pulls up to the curb of my building smack dab in the middle of Park Avenue, risking a glance to the man beside me.

"So, this is it?" Matteo asks, looking up through the window. "You've done well, Em."

I fidget with my clutch. "Would you like to see inside?"

His eyes move over my face slow, letting the whopper-sized question hang between us in the confined air. The driver and I are left in anticipation for a few moments, before Matteo leans forward.

"How much do we owe you?"

With my question answered, I climb out of the cab. I'm numb from fear, why I'm so afraid I'm not sure. I walk onto the curb as the taxi pulls away, holding my clutch tightly. There's a quiet moment of awkwardness and it's obvious I have the reins here. So, I step forward and begin walking up the steps.

Marvin opens the door, the building's resident doorman, a ninety-year-old man who does the job because he loves it, not because he has to. He invented some type of syringe 50+ years ago and has lived off the wealth ever since.

"It's chilly out there," Marvin says as we file in through the door into a heated room. It takes Marvin a few moments of observation at my companion, a squint of the eyes before his mouth falls open and he claps his hands together.

"Are you Mr. Giordano? The maestro?"

Matteo thrusts his hand out in obligated greeting. "Matteo, please."

"My late wife and I, we saw you in Australia about, what was it, two or three years ago? We went night after night while your company was there. Never experienced anything like it."

"I'm stunned. Thank you," Matteo answers politely, humbled. His discomfort is still apparent, reminding me of the man I met. When another couple scales the steps of the building, Marvin heads to greet them. I spare Matteo anymore praise, I press for the elevator.

"Still hate it when people compliment you?"

He smirks as we enter the parting silver doors. "Well, for a while no one could even recognize me, so I guess it's a welcome change, for the time being."

"Are you still... in music? I mean, were you able to-"

The elevator door opens and my question dies away. More than a little uneasy, my eyes dart from the door to my apartment to Matteo. He doesn't seem to be experiencing the surge of doubt I am.

"This is the one."

Just open the fucking door and grab him. It's been months.

I fumble with the keys, knowing he has to noticing my shaking fingers, no doubt wondering what the hell is wrong with me. I get the door open and step in, flicking on the light.

I usher him in, heart lodged in my throat. I lock the door slowly and turn, steeling a breath. But he's there. He's everywhere. I back up into the door as he comes closer, looking down at me, his usually light eyes actually very dark.