It was six in the evening and I was still in New York. The secretary who was in charge of organizing my schedule had made a mistake and had booked a meeting for me with two pompous idiots who had only managed to waste my time. I had had to spend two hours answering ridiculous questions, and when I finally ended the meeting, I locked myself in my office. I looked at my wristwatch and knew that I was going to arrive later than I had originally planned. Leaving just after rush hour heading toward the Hamptons was madness, but I couldn't delay my arrival any longer.
Steve was waiting for me outside when I was finally free.
"Nicholas," he said, inclining his head and taking the small suitcase I handed him.
"How's the traffic, Steve?" I asked him at the same time my phone started vibrating.
I ignored it for a few moments and got into the car, in the passenger seat. At that moment I needed to close my eyes for a few minutes and calm the whirlwind of thoughts running through my mind.
"As always," Steve answered, sitting behind the wheel and heading toward the east side of the city. We had more than two hours of travel ahead of us—if there wasn't too much traffic.
Steve had become my right hand, he was in charge of getting me places on time, of my security, and of helping me with anything I needed. He had been working for the family since I was barely seven years old, so he was one of the few men who knew me and knew when he should talk to me or when he should stay silent. He, better than anyone, was aware of what I would have to face in the coming days, and that's why I appreciated that he put on relaxing music—not too slow and not too upbeat—with the perfect rhythm to let me start convincing myself that I wasn't going to lose it at that wedding; no, I was going to have to control not only my temper, but anything that threatened to knock down the ivory tower I now found myself in, high and far away... far away from everyone, especially from her.
An hour and a half later, we stopped to refuel at a gas station lost in the middle of the road. After having allowed myself to sleep for a while, I started to feel more and more restless and insisted on switching places and taking the wheel, which didn't seem to bother Steve; besides, I suddenly needed him to talk to me about anything.
Driving a little faster than the signs allowed, we started talking about the Knicks vs. Lakers game and like that, without even realizing it, we were already entering the Hamptons.
Different emotions flooded me when we entered that part of the state of New York that brought me so many memories. My father and mother had bought a house by the beach; well, actually it had been a wedding gift. It was a small house, nothing like the mansions that were around there, and I could remember those occasions when the three of us had spent the summers together there.
They had been few, I have to admit, but if my memory didn't fail me, I think the house had been one of the few places where we had been a family. My father had taught me to surf on the beaches of Montauk, and I had tried my best to do it well so that he would feel proud of me.
With those thoughts in mind and a few more bitter ones, I headed toward the road that led to Jenna's parents' house. When my mother left, my father used to bring me to the Hamptons one week every summer and we spent it with the Tavishes. It was there that we had our first kiss... God, how nervous I had been and how calm Jenna was. For her it had only been a simple experiment; I, on the other hand, almost ran away.
It had been under one of the big trees in the backyard. We were playing tag and when I found her, she grabbed me by the shirt and forced me to hide with her behind a huge tree trunk.
"You have to give it to me now, Nick; if not, it will be too late."
At that time, I didn't understand what the hell she meant, but years later I found out that under that tree, right beneath those leaves, Jenna's father had proposed to her mother. Jenna had learned about it that very day, and the dreamy, romantic little girl who insisted on hiding had decided to come out for a walk. According to her, that kiss had been disgusting... but for me it had been the beginning and I hadn't stopped since then.
With those thoughts in mind, I pressed down on the accelerator. I was so absorbed that it took me a few seconds too long to hit the brake when I saw a couple who seemed to be walking right in the middle of the road. They were dressed in sportswear and when the car sped past them, turning them into a blur by my window, I felt an uncomfortable pressure in the pit of my stomach. I looked in the rearview mirror and that pressure turned into a shiver.
(Above mentioned words are all from the book of Culpa Nuestra, Spanish book written by Mercedes Ronn, I just traslated this in English if you want to communicate with me ...my Instagram account @_._priyeah_._)
Be ready for chapter 6 guys...