Page 30 of The Producer: Aaron

“You can come down. He’s gone.” His voice comes calm but clear upstairs.

He looks up toward me as I stand and walk down the stairs until I reach him.

“How are you?” he asks, glancing at me furtively.

“I’m fine, but how are you? It wasn’t a pleasant conversation.”

He looks into my eyes, caught off guard by my question, as if no one’s ever cared about his feelings. Living together for the last few months, I’ve realized that his life is quite lonely. I don’t know if he has women warming his bed outside this house, but since I’ve been here, I’ve never seen him take someone to bed, much less stay long enough to have breakfast together.

He shrugs and looks down. “He’s my father. I’m used to it.”

“I didn’t ask you if you’re used to it. I asked you how you are.”

His gaze snaps up to mine with a mixture of surprise and, perhaps, relief. A half-smile appears on his lips. “In a few minutes, I will be better. I just have to try to calm the anger I feel.”

I nod and accept his answer without insisting. If there’s onething I’ve realized about him, it’s that he’s used to managing his feelings on his own and at his own pace.

“You know he’s a filthy pig and nothing he said about you is the truth or something I think, don’t you?” His question is cautious as if to test my reaction to what I just witnessed.

I nod and smile at him. “As disgusting as those words were, I know they are not true.”

“Are you okay?” he insists.

“Words that have no foundation in truth cannot hurt me. I know we don’t sleep together, and I’m also aware that I don’t open my legs with everyone. The words of a lousy man don’t make me feel like I am worth less just because he is in a position of power even if they disgust me.”

“You were supposed to stay in your room as I told you,” he mumbles, realizing only now that I didn’t listen to him.

I roll my eyes and snort. “It’s not that I couldn’t hear what you were saying. You were shouting.”

Aaron extends a hand and grabs my shoulder to make me turn entirely toward him.

“That’s not why I told you to disappear. I don’t want him to set his eyes on you, ever. You have to stay away from him, got it? I don’t want you to ever be alone with him. Don’t open the door if he comes back here and I’m not at home.”

I am surprised by the apprehension that shines through his gaze. Of course, his father has a mania for power that equals that of a psychotic dictator, but Aaron seems almost concerned for my physical safety.

“Aaron, I’ve been working in this city for three years. Trust me, I have already dealt with filthy pigs and am not so easily impressionable. I know how to look after myself.” I try to reassure him, but his forehead wrinkles in an expression that shakes my confidence.

“Don’t underestimate him. I’m not joking or even exaggeratingthe situation to scare you. That man is dangerous, and you have to promise me that if you find yourself for some reason alone with him, the first thing you do is leave, even if he threatens to fire you. You don’t have to listen to what he says, got it? He has the ability to get into your head and ruin you if you are not careful. Promise me.” His speech is so heartfelt that it enters my chest and remains there.

“I promise you, Aaron. And thank you for defending me.”

I stretch my arms over his shoulders and squeeze them behind his neck, adhering to his figure with a hug. He is hesitant, perhaps because he didn’t expect my gesture, but then his arms find my body, and the squeeze makes me almost short of breath. It’s a firm hug. His hands stretch out wide on my back, and his fingers touch my skin with a delicacy that contrasts with the powerful size of this man. Being enclosed in his arms is like being wrapped in an armor that protects you but at the same time warms and pampers you.

It’s one of those hugs that slips deep down inside and makes your stomach tremble like you read about in books. There is no desire to fondle my butt as happens with guys my age, but somehow this contact is more intimate, profound, and turns on every cell of my body as if it were immersed in flammable liquid.

When we separate after a time that seems endless and, at the same time, too short, Aaron pauses for a few moments to scrutinize my face, eyes, and lips in particular.

“Excuse me,” he whispers, pushing me slightly to pass in order to lock himself inside his office, leaving me with an irresistible desire to wrap my arms around his perfect body once again.

***

Aaron stays locked up in his office all day while I take refuge in my room, unsure what to do. That hug had more meaning than any other gesture between us, and now I wonder if there will be any embarrassment when he leaves that room.

My stomach begins to grumble, and, tired of overthinking what will happen when I set foot outside this bedroom, I decide it’s time to find out. I find him busy with something inside the fridge when I get to the kitchen. He took a shower. His hair is still wet while the gray sweatpants adhere perfectly to his butt. The white shirt that wraps around his shoulders is so tight that it could explode around the muscles that he usually hides under his shirts.

He smiles at me when he notices I am behind him. “You’re home. I thought you had gone out with your friend. I didn’t hear you wandering around here all day.”

I sigh in relief when I realize the hug didn’t create all that tension I was afraid of and every doubt was just in my head.

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