On Wednesdays, I go straight from work to school. Unfortunately, these two places are nowhere near each other, so I have to take the subway. I don’t mind the subway. In some parts of the city it’s not too bad, especially in the spring when it’s not so hot you think you’ll suffocate from the combination of the heat and the smell of rotting garbage.
Spike hates the subways.
So I’m not too surprised when I see a limousine with the license plate PRATT4 pull to the curb in front of me. What does surprise me is Angel’s head sticking out the window, not Spike’s.
“You look like you could use a ride.”
Angel is way too happy to see me. I should say no. I’m dating his father. I don’t want to give him the wrong idea.
“Thanks, that would be nice,” I say, sliding in next to him.
“Where to?”
After I tell him, Angel instructs his driver, and we pull back into the New York City traffic.
“Thanks for the ride. This thing gets heavy.” I gesture to my bag.
“Anytime,” he tells me sincerely. “I looked for you when I finished talking to my dad the other night.”
“Yeah, sorry about that. I had to go.” More like your father kicked me out for talking to you.
“It’s funny, I was just thinking about you. Then there you are, walking down the street.” He smiles at me, as if it’s the best thing that’s happened to him all year.
“You were thinking about me?” So not good.
Angel moves closer to me, clearly not embarrassed by my blunt question. He’s probably used to college girls, like Dawn, falling all over themselves for his attention. I lean back in my seat, away from him. I don’t want to give him the wrong impression.
My question hangs in the air around us, so I completely change the topic and ask where he’s coming from. He starts telling me about some big meeting, including all the boring details, that I have no interest in hearing, but it’s better than talking about less comfortable topics. I can’t help but be thankful that Spike never bores me with shoptalk.
We are a few blocks away from school when Angel asks if I have time to get a cup of coffee. I have about forty-five minutes before class starts, so I accept his offer, because coffee and a muffin don’t sound so bad right now. Besides, I can think of a much more interesting topic I’d like to be discussing with Angel.
“So what’s it like having the most perfect parents in all of New York City?” I ask him once we’re sitting with our coffees and pastries.
Angel laughs bitterly. “You think my parents are perfect? Far from it.”
“They looked pretty perfect the other night.” I try not to sound as bitter as he does.
“My father is a pompous asshole, and my mother is a raving lunatic. It’s all an act for the benefit of my grandfather. They even live on separate floors,” he tells me quietly, like he’s letting me in on a big family secret.
“Wow,” I say, trying not to show how fucking giddy I am on the inside. “I never would have guessed that.”
“Spike knows how to keep up appearances.”
“You call your father Spike?”
“It suits him, don’t you think?” He continues, because he has no idea that I know Spike well enough to actually answer that question. “Ever since I turned eighteen, Spike became my competition. My grandfather hates scandal, and unfortunately for Spike he has a hard time staying out of it. It’s bad for business.
"I’ve been working my ass off at Columbia to graduate early because my grandfather is sick and won’t hand the company over to me without a degree. I won’t be getting it anyway, because Spike’s apparently wised up, and he’s been staying out of trouble,” he grumbles like a child who won’t be getting dessert after dinner.
“So if Spike gets caught in a scandal, what will happen to him?”
Angel beams. This is clearly something he’d love to have happen. “I’ll be named CEO and President of Pratt Industries, and Spike will work for me.”
I don’t say anything, letting his words wash over me, thinking about Spike and understanding him a little better. Spike may be an arrogant bastard, but he’s worked hard for over twenty years- too hard to have his shit of a son take it from him just because he doesn’t love his wife. But Angel never said that, and I can’t leave this coffee shop without at least asking.
“So you don’t think Spike loves your mother?”
Angel is surprised by my question, but it doesn’t take him long to answer. “Spike only loves himself.”
I really hope that’s not true.
When things are good, they’re really, really good.
Spike calls me on Friday morning while I’m getting ready for work. I’m still in a good mood from talking to Angel, and I can’t keep the smile off my face. He seems to be in just as good of a mood.
“Morning, pet. Got any plans for tonight?”
“Oh, sorry, I already made plans with my other boyfriend,” I tell him very seriously.
“That’s okay, I’ll just kill him and then you’ll be free to go out with me,” he replies in the same serious tone.
I laugh. “You are a seriously twisted person.”
“I thought that was what you liked best about me.” God, that voice. It turns me into goo, and I’m barely concentrating when he tells me to get dressed up because he’s taking me somewhere nice and to pack an overnight bag.
“Spike, you know I have work tomorrow.”
“Get someone to cover for you.”
“Spike…” He knows I hate taking off work. I barely make enough money to support myself when I work all my hours. Losing a Saturday would seriously set me back.
“I know, I know. Look, if you’re short this month because I’m asking you to take off, I think it’s only fair you let me give you some money.”
I hate taking his money, but he does have a point. “Only if I’m short.”
I don’t have to see him to know he’s grinning on the other end. “Great, I’ll send a car for you around six.”
“Wait, Spike, what’s this for?”
“Didn’t get a chance to celebrate our anniversary properly last weekend.”
I’m so stunned that my mouth is surely hanging open in a very unattractive way. I can’t believe he actually remembered. A huge, happy smile spreads across my face.
“Shit, I gotta go. I’ll see you tonight. Love you, kitten.”
I don’t even care that he called me ‘kitten.’ Maybe, Angel was wrong. Maybe, Spike does love someone other than himself.
I’m zipping up my overnight bag when there’s a knock on my door. I look over at the clock, smiling at the time- six o’clock on the dot. Rushing to the door, I open it and almost rush into Gunn’s unopened arms. I stop before I embarrass myself, but Gunn already has an amused look on his face.
“I thought you were Spike,” I explain, although it’s pretty obvious.
“Mr. Pratt had business on the island earlier today. He’ll be meeting us when he’s finished.”
“Okay.” Although I’m a little disappointed, nothing can get me down. Spending the night with Spike is a very rare occurrence, one I’m not going to waste getting upset over trivial things. Plus, I’m still floating on cloud nine, just because he remembered our anniversary.
“Where are we going?” I ask as Gunn takes my bag. I do a quick sweep of my apartment, making sure I haven’t forgotten to do or take anything before we leave. I make sure to lock the door before following Gunn down to the double-parked car.
“The Hamptons.”
The Hamptons? This day just keeps getting better and better! I know Spike’s family has a house in the Hamptons, but he’s never taken me there before. Usually, he only goes out there one weekend a month during the summer, to keep up appearances. I’m beyond excited to see the gorgeous Pratt estate, but honestly? He could be taking me to a shack in the middle of the woods and I’d be just as happy.
There is a ton of Friday evening traffic, and it takes us over three hours to get to Bridgehampton. I try to talk to Gunn to pass the time, but it turns out the only thing we have in common is Spike, and that’s not a topic I really want to discuss with him. So I sit back, very comfortable in the Cadillac and look out the window. I hardly ever venture out to Long Island; maybe, once or twice in the two years I have lived in New York. The major highways are nothing to look at, but the landscape closer to our destination is a whole different story.
Each estate we pass is very secluded with lots of shrubbery to keep out prying eyes. Finally, after what seems like forever, we pull up to the Pratt estate. I try my hardest not to look like a wide-eyed tourist, but I have never seen anything like it in my life. It’s dark, but I can still make out the beautiful stonework on the front of the house.
Gunn takes my bag and leads me inside. The foyer is just as grand as the outside and just as bright with a big chandelier hanging from the ceiling. I follow Gunn up the staircase and down the hall, passing many rooms before we stop at one. He opens the door, gesturing for me to step inside. The room is so different from the rest of the house, so distinctly Spike. Whereas the rest of the house is decorated in soft colors, this room is full of black and bright red.
While I am basking in the total Spike-ness of the room, Gunn places my bag on the bed.
“Do you need anything while you wait?”
I smooth down the front of my dress, which thankfully, isn’t too wrinkled from the long car ride. I tell Gunn I’ll be fine on my own and silently hope Spike won’t be too long. Gunn leaves me alone, shutting the door behind him.
Not having much else to do, I explore the large bedroom. The room is nicer than any hotel I’ve ever stayed in. A few days ago, I would have worried that I was about to sleep with Spike in the same bed he shares with his wife, but after my talk with Angel I highly doubt that’s the case. My new knowledge of their situation only heightens my excitement for the night.
I take my toiletry bag down the hall in search of a bathroom. Most of the doors are closed, but I don’t have to go too far before I find what seems to be the only open room in the entire hallway. I check my hair and make-up and touch up my lipstick before putting everything back in the bag.
I look up when I feel two strong arms wrap around me from behind and see Spike looking back at me in the mirror. His arms wrap a little tighter around me as I lean back into his embrace. It seems like forever since things have been easy between us, and I really miss that.
Spike kisses the top of my head. “You look stunning, pet. I know it’s late, but I hope you’re ready to eat.”
“I’m starving. I barely had time to eat anything today,” I admit, feeling my hunger tenfold at the mention of food.
Spike releases me from his arms, taking my hand to lead me out of the bathroom. “Let’s see what we can do to change that.”
Leaving my bag on the counter, I follow him back down the staircase, heading to the back of the house. As we make our way, I can smell something delicious cooking in another room. At the back of the house is a sunroom that must be heated in the cooler months because I can’t feel the crisp night air even though it looks like we are outside. There is a table set for two in the middle of the room with flowers and candles and it’s very romantic. Spike leads me over and pulls out my chair for me before taking his seat.
“Spike, this place is beautiful.”
“It pales in comparison to the way you look when you’re happy. I wish I could make you this happy all the time.”
These moments when Spike is completely honest about his feelings are very rare, and it’s times like this when I know exactly why I want to be with him. I lean across the table, giving him a kiss, because what can I say that won’t ruin the moment?
Someone, one of the staff, interrupts, bringing out what I know is only the first course of our meal. He pours a white wine, most likely handpicked by Spike, into our glasses before leaving us alone again. Spike picks up his glass, and I do the same.
“Happy anniversary, baby.”
Our glasses touch in a toast to the occasion. I don’t hesitate another second before diving into my soup. It’s just as delicious as it smells, and I can see Spike smiling, happy that I’m enjoying every last drop. The salad and entrée are equally as yummy, and by the time dessert comes I’m stuffed. Not one to turn down chocolaty goodness, I take a bite, moaning at how rich it is.
“Ohmygod, this is the best thing I’ve ever had in my mouth.”
Spike raises an eyebrow. “Is that so?”
I swat his arm playfully. “You know what I mean.”
“Are you ready for your present?”
“There’s more?”
“Well, you never let me give you presents, and I think an anniversary is a perfectly good reason for gift giving.” He takes a small box out of his pocket and puts it on the table in front of me.
My breath catches because there is no doubt a ring in that telltale little blue box, but I know it can’t possibly be what I’ve been wishing for. I open it slowly. It’s not the ring, but it is a diamond. Or, more correctly, a four-row band ring with lots of brilliant diamonds. It’s absolutely exquisite and probably cost more than anything I’ve ever owned in my entire life. I can’t take my eyes off of it.
I barely notice when Spike moves his chair next to mine. He takes the ring out of the protective lining of the case and puts it on my right hand ring finger. “Do you like it?”
“I love it.” My voice is soft, because I’m still in awe over the beautiful gift, and I can’t stop thinking, what does this mean? I finally tear my gaze from my hand to his face.
Spike cups the side of my face. “I love you, Buffy. I know I don’t always do everything or anything right, and I know you don’t believe me when I say it, but I do.”
I wrap my arms around his neck, leaning forward to capture his lips with mine. We kiss until I’m breathless. I rest my forehead against his and utter the three words I swore I’d never tell him.
“I love you, too.” So much it scares me to death.
The next morning, Spike takes me to breakfast at a nearly empty restaurant on the water. I can’t help but notice how little he seems to care about being out in public with me. As ecstatic as I am to be able to do normal things with him, it worries me, especially after my conversation with his son.
“What’s on your mind, love?”
I give him a smile. “You.”
I wait until our breakfast comes to approach the subject I’ve been thinking of since last night. “Spike, can we talk. Like really talk?”
He laughs at me. “Really talk? As opposed to…?”
“I want to talk about us.” I pause. “And about you.”
“Buffy, I can see there’s something you’re not saying so just say it.” He’s not angry, but encouraging.
“I spoke to your son the other day,” I blurt out. Real smooth, Summers.
I don’t think I’ve ever been able to shock him like this before. If I weren’t so terrified, the look on his face would be comical. “You did what? When? Why?”
“Well, actually, he approached me. It was nothing. He just offered me a ride on Wednesday.”
“I see.” I can tell he’s trying hard to control his temper. “And what did you all talk about?”
“You,” I say again. “He talked about you and your company.” I pause, bracing myself. “And your wife.”
“Buffy, what is this sudden interest in my family?”
“I don’t know I just needed to know why you’re with me. I wanted to understand you better.”
“Why didn’t you just ask me? It’s rather simple, really. I love you. I don’t love her.” He really did make it sound simple.
I should be happy with that answer, but I press on. “He told me about your father. That he wants to take control of the company from you when your father retires.”
“And that’s all true so what can I tell you that he hasn’t already?” Spike pours himself a cup of coffee. He really looks like he needs it right now.
“I don’t know. It’s just-this ring. And taking me away. And bringing me here. It seems like you’re not trying as hard as you used to, to keep us a secret.”
He looks up at me, more serious than I’ve ever seen him. “Maybe I’m tired of hiding it.”
“What does that mean?”
“I haven’t the slightest idea,” he admits. “I’ve worked my ass off for twenty-two years. I’m damn good at what I do. But I’m fucking miserable when I’m not with you.”
I take his hand in mine because I know exactly how he feels.
“But if I leave Dru, I’ll lose everything I’ve worked so hard for. What the hell would I do then?”
“Be happy.”