Blossom in Winter Page 5

  “Pfff, very funny,” I reply. “Look at this one. It’s my favorite.”

  “Indeed, not bad. Do you sell them?”

  My eyes widen in surprise. “Um, no.” I let out a quick giggle. “Who would buy them anyway?”

  “You could open a gallery and invite your father’s friends and network for a preview. With the number of journalists we know, we could get you a lot of—”

  “Thank you, Mr. Van Dieren,” I interpose. “I truly appreciate it, but my father already got me this internship, and I want to focus on that for now.”

  “Very well. If you—” His phone starts ringing. After checking who’s calling, he decides not to take it. “I’m sorry, Ms. Van Gatt, but I have to go. Your father must be waiting for me downstairs.”

  “Sure. Have a great evening.” I smile, trying to hide my disappointment in seeing him leave… again. Pfff. He wasn’t meant to be here anyway.

  He reaches out, takes my hand, bowing slightly, and gives it a kiss.

  I feel a shiver running down my entire spine. No one has ever done that before. I try to appear as unaffected as possible.

  “It was an honor seeing you again, Ms. Van Gatt. I wish you a great night.”

  I swallow nervously, still feeling his lips on my hand, and reply with a timid smile, then I escort him in silence to the entrance. I open the door—it feels heavier than usual.

  “Oh, by the way”—he looks back at me—“I invited your dad to a dinner tomorrow at my estate. It’s going to be mostly executives in their forties and fifties talking about the most boring subjects, but if you are interested, you are most welcome to join.”

  As he calls the elevator, I smile at the doors instantly opening.

  “Thank you, Mr. Van Dieren. I appreciate the invitation,” I reply politely. “Have a great evening.”

  We gaze at each other for a moment—the moment before the elevator closes completely on him.

  Phew! He’s finally gone.

  I remain stationary against the door while drowning dangerously in my once forgotten childhood memories. Did my godfather really come back? Did I just see him again?

  I pick up my iPhone and start a text message to Emma: The Dutch hottie invited me to his house for a dinner tomorrow. Should I go?

  What am I doing? Oh God, so stupid of me! I delete the message straightaway. Indeed, Emma has nothing to do with it. Plus, if she knows about the invite, she’ll try to join me just to hit on him, which would annoy everyone at the gathering. It’s a formal dinner after all, not a party.

  Alexander Van Dieren

  It feels quite strange to see Petra again. Damn, she grew up so fast. I mean, ten years. Although she’s older, her big blue eyes and cheeky smile remain exactly the same. Her curiosity is as annoying as it is funny, just like before. She’s so skinny though—does she eat properly?

  “Ah! Here you are,” calls Roy, his face beaming with joy, as I step outside.

  “So, Roy, where are we going? Can you tell me why we needed to meet here?”

  “I didn’t want the journalists to follow. Get into the limo.”

  I let out a sigh. “You know I hate limos.”

  “You’re in New York now. Get used to it. C’mon!”

  He looks quite excited as I get inside and close the door behind me. Strangely enough, there is no one in the limo but us. He gives me a glass of champagne, a big grin on his face, and we toast.

  “I have a surprise for you,” he says. “It’s waiting in your condo.”

  “A surprise for me? But Roy, it’s your birthday, not mine.”

  “Consider it a welcome gift to the States.” I take another sip—a failed attempt to stop my curiosity from taunting me. “Once we get there, don’t mention either your first or last name, or mine. Okay?”

  I raise an eyebrow. “Okay…”

  And my curiosity keeps growing.

  When the limo pulls up on my block, Roy barely contains his excitement. We get into the elevator and go up, and since he has a spare key to the condo, he opens the door and we step into the hallway.

  “Wow.” My heart skips a beat at the sight of my gift. “Now that’s a surprise.”

  Roy closes the door behind us and walks in her direction. “Do you like it? I named her Lucy. A blonde, sun-kissed, with brown eyes, just as you like.” I actually have a penchant for the opposite, but since the birth of his daughter, I’ve never told him.

  I keep staring at Lucy as she remains kneeling on the floor of my entryway, naked, head down, legs spread apart. I like her pussy—it’s all shaved. She’s already wearing a collar and leash, along with wrist and ankle restraints, but I’m not pleased with the design. I’ll have to get her a new set.

  “She’s the most experienced I found. I already trained her to call you what you like,” he adds.

  “Can I talk to you for a second?”

  Roy and I walk a few steps down the hallway, and in a low, barely audible voice, I ask, “What kind of arrangement is this?”

  “Don’t worry.” He puts a hand on my back. “It’s by session. No strings attached, no real names, no problems. You just have to text her to make a booking. It’s that simple. And while I know you have an obsession for condoms, she is also tested and totally clean.”

  I heave a sigh of relief.

  “And how experienced is she?”

  “You can do whatever you want. She’s the best at it. I’m sure you’ll like her.” Roy throws me a confident smile, and I find myself returning it.

  “Thank you.” I also put a hand on his back. “That’s one hell of a gift. I feel terrible I didn’t bring one as good for you.”

  “Of course you did; my best friend is finally back.”

  As soon as Roy leaves my condo, I remove my jacket and tie, roll up my sleeves, and go to my bar cart to prepare myself a Macallan. Meanwhile, Lucy remains kneeling on the floor, mute, her head down. A glass in hand, I take her leash and walk her to the sofa in my living room, where I sit and she kneels again in front of me—her head always lowered. I lean back on the sofa and take my first sip, observing her. “Before going any further with you, little Lucy, there are a couple of things I’ve got to make sure you’ll do and follow strictly.” She keeps her eyes on the floor, never looking at me. Good girl. “First, I will fuck your little mouth roughly and deeply until you have a sore throat, so you need to control your gag reflex. And second, while you are here in my condo, you’ll always be naked with your collar and leash on, available to be pounded whenever and however I want. I hope you enjoy anal as much as I do. Are we clear?”

  “Yes, my lord. I’m here to please you,” she replies, looking down.

  “Do you mind if I bruise you?”

  “No, my lord.”

  “Perfect.” I take another sip from my glass. “Then I suppose we will get along.”

  Petra Van Gatt

  Friday. The first Friday without school. For me, it feels awkward to know I’ll no longer attend any classes at Loyola or wear the clothes that have been my uniform for so many years. We’re notified that the graduation rehearsal is set for the twenty-eighth. I look at the e-mail with a wistful smile and let out a sigh. Before getting too nostalgic, I decide to meet Emma at her estate for a day of horseback riding. After all, she’s always been the perfect antidote at times like these.

  We spend the day on the gallops. Then, after a wonderful afternoon, we find ourselves lounging by the pool to watch the sunset and the pinkish clouds settling in.

  “Doesn’t it feel weird not to have classes anymore?” I ask. “I’m so used to having a schedule.”

  “Jeez! You’re crazy. I couldn’t stand it anymore. Finally free.” Emma keeps staring at my pensive face behind her big sunglasses. “Don’t worry, babygirl, you’ll have plenty of schedules during your internship and your time at Columbia.”

  My iPhone beeps. It’s a text from Dad: Are you coming to the dinner? I’m leaving home in 90 mins.

  Oh! The dinner at Van Dieren’s property.
I had finally forgotten. It seems so simple to reply, just tapping a yes or no, yet I feel undecided. On one hand, this could be a great opportunity to meet executives working at Dad’s company and break the ice with them. But on the other, I’m not feeling comfortable enough to see him again. That terrible pain I felt when he disappeared from my life is not something I can easily forget—or forgive. He didn’t even apologize! He probably never felt bothered about leaving me either. Maybe Alex was only being a polite gentleman keeping an eye on his best friend’s daughter while Dad was absent. Pfff, I should have never seen him again yesterday. Such a mistake…

  Sorry, Dad, can’t make it, I text back. Ah, I feel so relieved afterward, much happier. Such a weight off my shoulders. I smile broadly and pour more tea into my cup.

  But within a minute, Dad calls. “Petra, it’s Dad. How are you?”

  “I know it’s you, I have your WhatsApp number. I’m fine.”

  “Why can’t you join? It’d be a great opportunity to meet your supervising manager and the rest of the board.”

  “I know, but… I promised Emma I’d go with her to a gallery.”

  “To a gallery? Emma doesn’t like art. Why are you lying to me?”

  Shit. I think further to come up with a better excuse. “Well, to tell you the truth, Dad… I think it’d be unfair to meet my manager before I start the internship. See, I want to be evaluated by how I perform, not by whom I know or met at the dinner. I just don’t want any privilege because I’m your daughter.”

  He remains silent for a few seconds.

  “Very well. If that’s what you want. Where are you having dinner, then?”

  “Emma’s house.”

  “I see... Be careful. Have a good evening.”

  “No worries. Bye, Dad. Enjoy.” And I hang up. Phew, that was close. “So”—I look back at Emma—“what have you decided to do after high school and the summer?”

  “I don’t know, babygirl, trying to find my path… Travel, for sure. Maybe move to Bali or Europe, who knows…”

  “I always admired that about you, you know.”

  “Admired what?”

  “Your adventurous, careless attitude. I never could’ve been like that, but I do admire you for being you.”

  “Oh, well. Life is short. You’ve got to enjoy it. Aren’t you hungry? I’m starving.”

  Chapter 4

  Bedford Hills, May 17, 2019

  Alexander Van Dieren

  Despite being born and raised in the Netherlands, my family has owned this manor in Bedford Hills for over a century. The estate is over twelve thousand square feet surrounded by green fields and trees, with seven beds and ten baths, including a pool, large gardens, a tennis court, and overlooking a pristine four-acre lake. I became the sole owner fifteen years ago. After being absent for so long, the manor needed some serious refurbishment, which has been completed recently. When Petra was a child, I decided to build horse stables on the other side of the estate so I could finally share my passion for riding with someone. I always aspired to move and live here one day, but life has decided otherwise. After ten years, it feels good to be back.

  It’s a beautiful and warm evening. Roy and I decide to go outside and check out the new terrace. A blanket of bright stars covers the sky. That’s what I love about the countryside—there is no pollution. With a glass in one hand and a cigar in the other, we stroll around enjoying each other’s company. We can hear the music and the laughter coming from inside. A fresh breeze chills the atmosphere.

  “So, what do you think of Lucy? Experienced enough for you?”

  “Oh, she is great,” I reply. “Very naughty and obedient. We’re actually in touch for a session tonight. Thank you so much for the surprise, Roy.”

  He pats me on the back. “I’m glad.”

  I smile at him, and we keep quiet as we walk.

  But Roy’s heavy tone breaks our tranquil silence. “I need to ask you a favor, Alex. I will return it anytime. You know me.”

  We both slow our pace, until I stop completely. “That sounds serious. What can I do for you, my dear friend?”

  He takes a steady puff of his cigar. Roy has never disclosed much about his feelings to anyone and has always preferred to show a strong exterior, even if he’s devastated inside. He only lets down his guard with me. We discuss everything, from work, love, fears, fantasies, crimes, money—no woman has ever managed to be that close to Roy. Not even Tess, his ex-wife. Nevertheless, expressing deep feelings and fears has always been his biggest challenge. Roy doesn’t like to feel vulnerable or exposed. I know him perfectly.

  “Well, it’s Petra,” he admits. “I’m worried about her friends’ influence on her. She’s only got frivolous girlfriends—you know, spoiled and slutty brats. She learns nothing good from them.” He takes a sip from his glass, his face looking more tormented than I’ve ever seen.

  “You mean like Emma? Petra seems to be totally different than she is. You have nothing to worry about.”

  “She has been lying to me, Alex. My daughter is not like that. I’m afraid Emma is a bad influence.” He sighs. “Now that you are back, as her godfather maybe you could get closer to her, befriend her”—he gives me a complicit smile—“and keep me updated…”

  “You’re dreaming, my old friend. I might be her godfather, but Petra is not stupid. There is no way she would trust me after being absent for so long.”

  “I’m sure she will. She needs a real friend, Alex, a confidant, someone she can trust to advise her. You can be like the older brother she never had.” An older brother? With a twenty-three-year age difference? Yeah, right. Since I don’t seem very enthusiastic about the idea, Roy leans closer to me. “Look,” he starts in a low voice. “No one knows about it, but Petra has agoraphobia. That’s why it’s so hard for her to make new friends. She is like a closed shell. Her only friends are Emma and her circle. When she’s not with them, she’s locked in that room upstairs doing God knows what.”

  “You mean her atelier? She’s just painting and reading in there.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Well, she showed me.”

  “See? She trusts you instinctively. She never let me in. Not even the maid is allowed to clean the room.”

  “I’m sorry, Roy, you’re my best friend and you know that… but I won’t exploit her trust. I can’t be like a watchdog reporting to you her every move and word.”

  “I realize it might sound a bit overprotective, but I don’t want her to become like them. She’s so smart, so rational and down-to-earth, and I don’t want her to end up like her mother either. I want her to build something meaningful, a legacy. She needs to remain focused.”

  “She seems to be on the right path,” I still insist. But Roy is my best friend after all, and he looks quite worried. I ponder further. While I’m no expert on teen girls, why not at least give it a try? I come up with a compromise. “Look, here is what I can do for you. As her godfather, it’d be a pleasure to spend more time with Petra, but I won’t repeat to you anything she tells me unless I deem it necessary for her protection. And I promise to keep that Emma away.”

  “Deal, my friend, deal. Thank you so much.”

  We clink our glasses in a toast.

  Chapter 5

  Manhattan, May 18, 2019

  Petra Van Gatt

  The clock’s showing twelve thirty a.m. The room is dark and the entire house quiet. I’ve already taken two pills to sleep, yet my eyes are wide open. I’m tired of trying to fall asleep. Unfortunately, my thoughts are strong enough to keep me awake. Was it the right decision to skip that dinner? The fear of missing out (that FOMO everyone at school used to talk about) is consuming me for the very first time. I’ve never questioned my declines to parties, events, or dinners. And with my agoraphobia, I’ve always felt it was the right thing to do.

  Except this time.

  I heard Dad’s tone at the end of the call, weird, cold, and maybe even saddened. Is Dad disappointed with me? Did
they talk about me over dinner?

  I check my phone. No messages.

  Since I can’t sleep, I decide to call Emma. “Hi. Emma?” Loud house music in the background makes it difficult to hear anything. “Emma?” I ask louder.

  “What’s up, babygirl?” Emma’s tone is more playful than usual. “Where are you?”

  “I’m home. Trying to sleep, but—”

  “Hey, folks! Let’s pick up Petra! She’s awake,” she screams over the top of the music. “Babe, we are going to an amazing after-party. You need to join us. It’s in a secret basement!”

  “I’m not sure about that… I just wanted to talk…”

  “We’ll talk there! Let’s go, girl! You need some fresh air!”

  I roll my eyes. “Okay, fine. I’ll grab a car and meet you there.”

  “No, we’ll come get you, since we’re going to a secret address. Put some sexy clothes on for once. I’ll be there in ten minutes.” And just like that, Emma hangs up.

  Holy shit! I can’t believe I’m gonna do this. I’m horrified, but at the same time so excited to run away for a special night out. The adrenaline is surreal.

  I rush to my dressing room, scan my clothes, and try to find some sort of inspiration for tonight. A white fitted T-shirt with V-neck seems like a good option, maybe paired with a black jacket to give a more mature look. And with those black heels I’ve got somewhere, it’ll be perfect. I wear my favorite dark skinny jeans and put on some eyeliner and mascara, some blush, and a darker-than-usual lipstick. The ensemble is missing some jewelry, but I don’t have any. Oh! I recall Emma once offered me a black velvet choker. It should be somewhere. Dad has forbidden me to wear it as it looks way too promiscuous for his taste. Ah, I found it! I smile as I put it on my neck, then give a glance in the mirror. Very nice, Ms. Van Gatt. You look twenty-one for sure.