Heartkiller

Chapter Four: Salt in our Wounds

Here we are right back where we began
Waiting for the sweet love with open arms
Here we are just like before
Waiting for the warmth of that tender storm

Thursday, June 15, 2006

Ville spent the next few weeks touring the country, but he couldn’t get her off of his mind. In the midst of his interviews, he couldn’t help but crack a smile now and then at the memory of those precious nights. Her long dirty blond tresses swayed with the wind as she led the way. Her blue eyes fleeting about the park. And her thousand-watt smile. Oh, that smile was ever so enchanting and filled his stomach with butterflies. He recalled every last detail about her and knew there was no way he could wait until the end of the touring session to see her again. HIM was performing with the Projekt Revolution lineup through the US and then continuing onto Europe for as part of the Summer Festival Tour. There was a brief window of time between the end of Projekt Revolution and the beginning of the European tour during which he could stop by to see her. Three weeks after their fateful meeting, he was at the last stop of the US leg and gave her a call.

He was sitting in the tourbus alone while the rest of the band watched the last act finish the show onstage. He played with the frayed skin on his left thumb while he held the phone to his ear with this right hand.

“Hello?” she answered.

“Hey, it’s Ville.”

“Hey there, rockstar. Figure out how to use a phone, did ya?” she answered.

Avery was hustling through her office carrying a stack of files with her phone between her ear and her shoulder. No matter how busy she was, she made sure that her trademark satire slipped through during the conversation. The ponytail at the crown of her head swung from side to side as she hurried through the office. She was on her way back to her desk with an exciting case; still, she was even more excited that Ville had finally called. As nonchalant as she had tried to appear during their first meeting, Avery was in fact very drawn to the Scandinavian and had been eagerly awaiting his call.

“Hehhe. Yeah.”

“So, what’s up?”

“We just finished our tour, and I was thinking about stopping by in New York so I can take you out to dinner. Have a proper date, perhaps.”

“Sounds good. When will you be in town?” Avery bit her lip to contain her elation.

“Is tomorrow night okay?”

“Just be sure to get me home by 10, it’s a school night.” She joked. “Yeah, tomorrow night sounds perfect.”

“Alright, I’ll -uh, I’ll pick you up around 7 then.”

“Yeah, I’ll text you the address.”

“Alright.”

“Can’t wait. Bye.” she replied.

“Bye.” he said and hung up the phone.

Friday, June 16, 2006

The following evening, Ville picked Avery up in a private car he had rented for the night with a bouquet of roses in hand.

“Hey,” she greeted. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“Hi. The pleasure is all mine, darling.” he handed her the flowers. “These are for you.”

“Thank you. That’s so sweet.” she said and gave him a hug.

“You’re very welcome.”

“Fancy.” she commented, referring to the private escort.

Ville held the door open for her, allowing her to get in first.

“You live here?” he asked.

“Oh, no. This is where I work. Sterling-Ellis is on the 17th floor.” she said, settling into her seat.

Ville got in after her and signaled the driver to proceed to the destination.

“I’m not really sure about the area, but Bam recommended this place to me.” Ville explained. “He said it would be close to the address you gave me and that it was a good place, but I don’t know it personally.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” she reassured.

“You look delightful, by the way.”

Avery looked down at her attire: a grey pencil skirt, suit jacket, and blouse. At best, the purple blouse underneath would slip every once in a while to give a peek of her skin, but otherwise, the outfit was far from “delightful.”

“Ha. Don’t lie. This is how I look after working since seven this morning. I’m a mess, I just attempted to clean myself up a bit in the restroom, but I doubt it did any good.” she scoffed.

“Still.”

“Well, thank you.” she said.

She laid the bouquet on her lap. Their hands rested atop one another in the space between them, and Avery gazed out the window with her index finger between her teeth; she couldn’t contain her excitement at finally seeing him again.

When they reached the restaurant, Ville helped her out of the car, and they walked inside. The foyer of the restaurant was dimly lit and had purple orchids in vases resting on the mahogany furniture. Avery had a clever grin on her face because of how familiar the eatery was to her. She decided not to tell Ville anything and let the night play out as it may. She walked a few paces behind, pretending to fumble through her purse.

“Hi, how can I help you?” the hostess asked when they reached her station.

“Hi, I have a reservation for two under Valo.” Ville said.

“Uh, alright,” she looked down at her sheet before responding, “Okay, it’s going to be about 10 minutes - oh, Ms. Wentworth, I didn’t see you there. Did you have a reservation? I-I can try and have a table ready for you in five. I’m sorry for the wait.”

Avery smiled at her nervousness, while Ville threw a confused look over his shoulder.

“No, that’s quite alright, Jaclyn. I’m here under his reservation.” she said once she was beside Ville.

“If you’re sure. I’m really sorry.” the hostess, Jaclyn, replied apprehensively.

Avery gave a final nod and politely pulled Ville off to the side to let the other patrons pass by while they waited for their table.

“You know this place?” he asked.

“Yeah, this is kind of where I bring potential clients that I’m trying to impress so that I can give them that final push. You know, to coddle and convince them that Sterling-Ellis is perfect for them.”

"You said the other day that associates don't handle things like that."

"Well, fourth year associates have all the duties of a junior partner minus the freedom and the pay. I do whatever my mentor tells me to; I'm a junior partner-in-training."

“And Wentworth?”

“Avery Louise Wentworth. Yes, I am one of those city elitists whose family owns a lavish beach home in the Hamptons.” she said with an uncomfortable eyeroll.

“Why do you seem so distraught about that?”

“I-I don’t know.” She sighed. Her eyes flitted about the foyer, and she avoided looking at him. “I feel like you’ll see me differently because of that.”

Ville shook his head. “Never.” He gently turned her chin with his index finger, forcing her to make eye contact. He quoted, “‘A rose by any other name...’”

“'would smell as sweet,'” she finished. “Right.”

“Your table is ready, sir.” the hostess notified.

The couple followed a waiter to their table. The restaurant was decorated with soft pink curtains draped around the room. It was well-lit and their were candles on the table to set the mood, if need be. There was a small fireplace against the back wall and large paintings of the French countryside hung throughout. The waiter directed them to a table near the corner by the window and handed them menus.

“I’ll be with you shortly,” he informed and left the two alone.

Avery didn’t bother looking through the menu because she already knew what she wanted. Ville, on the other hand, was skimming through the menus looking for anything appealing.

“What would you recommend?” he asked her.

“Umm... it depends what your preferences are. Do you like seafood? Or...” she scanned the menu to make suggestions.

“Bottle of Bordeaux, on the house,” the waiter said while presenting the bottle. He placed two wine glasses on the table and served the drink. “Enjoy.”

Avery giggled. “I think they think you’re a client.”

“Why do you say that?” Ville asked, looking up from the menu.

“Because that’s not really complimentary wine. It’s a little thing I have them do for me whenever I bring someone in, sort of like another way to win a client over.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Which means you are welcome to order whatever you’d like. I can see you squirming in your seat looking at the prices, but this is on me. Well, technically it’s on the firm.”

Ville opened his mouth to protest, but she cut him off.

“No excuses.”

At her tone, he understood: there was no way she was going to let him have his way.

“Fine. But I wasn’t intimidated by the prices.”

“Yes, you were.” she deadpanned.

“Maybe a little. After all, it’s rather ridiculous to pay 25 dollars for a simple salad.”

“Ah, but that’s the problem. It’s not just a ‘simple salad.’ It’s Chef Rouget’s creation.” she spoke superciliously, clearly mocking anybody who had such an opinion. She laughed.

“I doubt he’s whipping up anything so marvelous that it warrants such exorbitant prices.” he muttered. “What are you getting?”

“The sirloin.”

“Dry Aged Prime New York Sirloin, 50 dollars.” He read the description.

“Totally worth it. Trust me.”

He chuckled. “I guess I'll have the same.”

When the waiter came by, Ville ordered for the two of them. After he left, Avery lifted her wine glass to make a toast.

“Here’s to a good night.” she toasted.

“To a lovely evening,” he agreed and they touched glasses before sipping the wine.

“So, as I recall, you have quite the story for me.” Ville said with a mischievous grin, referring to the tour experience she had hinted at during their last meeting.

Avery bit her lip before speaking. “I plead the fifth.”

“What does that mean?”

“It’s an expression. It refers to the fifth amendment of the US Constitution which protects people from incriminating themselves.”

“What happened in Europe that may incriminate you?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Okay, I’ll tell you this much, but that’s all you’re getting!" she said with a big grin on her face. "It was Spring Break of '99, and it was sort of a last hurrah before entering law school and the real world. The trip in question may or may not have involved two of my girlfriends, paintball guns, and a member of Paradise Lost.”

She finished and Ville stared back with his eyes blinking in awe. Realizing that's all she was going to tell him, he objected.

“You’re going to leave me with that? Come on, my mind is going crazy over here.”

She paused, debating whether or not she should tell him what happened. Avery looked at his eager eyes and knew she couldn’t resist.

“Fine, but it doesn’t leave this table, alright? This is one of those ‘if I tell you, then I’d have to kill you’ kind of stories.”

He nodded, urging her to continue.

“Okay, well, keep in mind I was...let’s see, I’m 28 now, so I was 21 seven years ago. I was 21 and stupid. Anyway, it was in the middle of Hellfest in France. My girlfriends and I are watching the show, you know, having fun, drinking and whatnot. We got pretty drunk, so I don’t remember exactly how this happened, but at some point, we ended up hanging out with Greg Mackintosh from Paradise Lost and a couple of his friends. These people had the bright idea to have a paintball fight in the area behind the festival grounds. And of course, I’m drunk, so I don’t question the logic of doing this without any gear or think about how fucking bad the paintball wounds are going to hurt the next morning. No, I just agree. So we, you know, have the paintball fight just laughing and having a grand old time. What we didn’t realize was that this place where we’re doing this is actually super off-limits.”

“Your dinner.” The waiter announced as he presented the food. “Enjoy.”

“Thank you.”

They took a few bites of the food, and Avery rocked her shoulders from side to side. She didn't realize she was doing it, but it was her way of approving the quality of the food. Ville beamed at the sight; he found it endearing. She didn't notice his reaction to her behavior and continued telling the story.

“Turns out it was like the ruins of a castle that was destroyed a few centuries ago. Anyway, I wake up the next morning in my hotel room, and the whole town is up in arms trying to figure out who defaced the ruins.”

“Then what happened?”

“What do you think? Me and my friends booked it out of Clisson, France like you wouldn’t believe. I don’t know what happened with the rest of that… Who knows if they ever figured out it was a group of no-good American tourists.”

“Did the area not have security or something? How were you even able to get on the grounds?”

“That’s what I’m saying! I mean, in hindsight, is it horrible to have defiled such a historic piece of land? Of course! But at the same time, this place is like right next to a music festival filled with a bunch of drunk twenty-something year olds... wouldn’t you have more security than just a stone wall that could easily be hopped?” she defended. “Or better yet, don’t host the festival when you have something so sacred right there!”

Ville took a moment to absorb the information.

“Wow. That’s insane.”

“Yep. And now you know.” she said and sipped her wine.

“So you’re technically a wanted criminal.”

“Um, in theory, maybe. But the charges would never stick…" Avery dismissed with a wink and a smile. "How was the rest of the tour?”

“It was good. Some shows were better than others, based on who knew our music and things like that, but overall, it was good.”

“How does New York stack up against those other places?”

“New York was amazing, but for other reasons.” He said with a toothy grin, causing her to blush.

She brought her napkin to her face to stealthily hide her red cheeks when she spotted a tattoo on his left ring finger. It was the letter ‘J,’ and she started to put the pieces together. Since he didn’t have any other tattoos on his fingers, it had to be significant. From its placement on the wedding finger, she deduced that it had to be a woman’s name. Avery decided to bring up the topic to see how he would respond.

“Speaking of that night, I have a question for you. Something Bam mentioned... He said ‘I haven’t seen him look at a woman like that since...’ and he didn’t finish. What was he talking about?”

Ville’s grin disappeared, and he looked past Avery at the curtains and other patrons. He absentmindedly stroked his left ring finger with his left thumb. He was grazing the tattoo, and, although he wasn’t trying to, it seemed like he was hiding it.

“What’s her name?” she asked earnestly.

He was surprised. “How...?”

“It’s not rocket science.” she replied, narrowing her eyes.

Avery was thinking the worst: she was getting carried away into a land of fantasy with a man who was already involved with someone else. Stroking the ring finger signaled to her that this man was married and missing the feeling of the silver ring against his skin. It was her worst nightmare, and she needed him to refute it right away before she lost her senses; she didn’t care for his discomfort in admitting his sins.

“Am I being interrogated?” he asked, shocked by her harsh tone.

He didn’t want to talk about this so soon and relive the painful memories. It wasn’t something he wanted to hide from Avery, but he certainly didn’t expect to be telling her about this already.

“Only if you’re hiding something.”

At the words, he realized what she must have been thinking and forgot his initial reservations. The truth wasn’t close to what Avery was worried about.

“No, no, it’s not like that. It was - her name was Jonna. We were engaged. I thought she was the woman with whom I wanted to spend the rest of my life, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. I loved her, sure, and she loved me. At least, I thought she did. A few months after we got engaged, things turned sour; we got in explosive fights, she was very combative and I was no Petruchio for her Katherine.”

“Two Shakespeare references in one date?” she said lightly.

Her mood had turned once she realized how wrong she had been.

“I can’t help it,” he shrugged. “Anyway, I ended things after a particularly bad night of throwing punches. I just couldn’t take it anymore.”

Avery reached across the table and took his hands in hers.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed the worst.”

“It’s quite alright, sweetheart. You should know what happened.” He tightened his grip in reassurance. “We got matching tattoos instead of an engagement ring. It was a horrible decision, really. As great as the relationship had been, I don’t feel right about carrying such a permanent reminder. I’ve been trying to etch it off my skin by putting my cigarette out on it, but I’m not sure that it’s working.”

She hesitantly pulled her hands away. At his confession, Avery felt guilty and knew she needed to concede her reasons for jumping to conclusions so prematurely.

“Look, the reason I thought that you were cheating was because--” she started, but he interrupted.

“You don’t have to explain, darling.”

“No, I do. Really.” she insisted. “It’s because it’s happened to me before.”

“Someone cheated on you?”

“Not quite.” she hung her head in shame, looking at her fidgeting hands. “I was… I was the other woman.”

Ville waited patiently for her to continue.

“It’s another college story. I was in law school at this point and dating this really amazing guy, Michael. He helped me find a decent apartment, he was always so helpful with whatever I needed, he took me on vacation to these really nice places. He was great, truly. Or so I thought... Now that I think about it, there were little things that gave me hints: he wouldn't answer my calls at certain hours of the day or he'd abruptly cancel plans we'd made. The thing that really got to me was that I never met anybody from his family even though we had been dating for almost a year. He didn’t talk about his mother or his father at all, not even his siblings. I wasn't allowed to meet them. After some digging, I found out why: as it turns out, he was married… with two kids.”

“Oh, no.”

“Yeah.” She gulped the rest of her wine and kept looking at her hands. “I just felt terrible for what had happened. I broke up a family. And I...” she sighed. “Anyway, I thought I was in the same situation again. When I saw the tattoo and what Bam had said, I just put it together and thought the same thing was happening. I’m sorry for making such an assumption about you. You haven’t done anything for me to doubt you, and here I am, jumping to conclusions.”

“I’m sorry for what happened to you.”

Avery looked up at to meet his eyes.

“Me too.”

“It’s not your fault, you know.” Ville soothed.

“Yes, it is.” she dismissed his suggestion as being absurd.

“No, there’s no way you could have known about that. He was the asshole for cheating, and that’s his guilt to carry, not yours.”

There was a silence as the sour mood dissipated.

“So dessert, then?” she asked.

“Sure.” He said with a chortle.

Avery signaled for the waiter to come over. He bussed the dishes and took their order for a chocolate souffle.

“So what are your plans now?” she asked.

“Well, I had today off. I’m flying out to Europe tomorrow to play the festivals throughout there. Then, I have two weeks off before I have to return to the studio to finish up recording our album.”

The souffle came and the couple shared it. She took a few spoonfuls and basked in the taste.

“Mm. Delicious.” she commented. “Those two weeks off... would you happen to be spending any of that time in New York?”

“I can.” Ville smiled.

“Good.” Avery beamed.

♠ ♠ ♠

What do you guys think? :)