by Poppy Adams
Out of the corner of her eye she saw a smile play around his plump lips, "Tell him what you want, it's yours."
Damn him for thinking I'm so easily appeased.
Damn me for needing sex, ever.
"Excuse me,” Lilly said softly. "It's time I was leaving. The office called while I was waiting for you. And well, your tardiness ate into our date, so . . . enjoy your Champagne and your night."
The waiter bit his lip.
Embarrassed for the high roller no doubt, he left the Champagne in the icebox and marched off to another table.
Fredrick gaped and stood up, standing so near to her, the scent of sweat on clean skin, of spicy cologne, of man, flooded her senses.
For a moment of intense arousal, it even overpowered the stench of smoke.
He held out his hand again, "Can we start over?"
He appeared sincere when she glimpsed his glorious brown gaze, but how could she trust him—especially a hedonist like him?
His hand in hers, she held it tight, shook it once, and let go. "Bye Fredrick."
Leaving the restaurant without a second glance, a part of her, however small, wondered if she might have missed out on an incredible experience if only she had the courage.
She even paused at the reception area, partly wanting to turn back, partly wanting to flee.
Instead of hot sex with a playboy, she would go home and text Anon.
Then she would take a long hot bath, alone.
She still had a little power left in those batteries to use up.
But while waiting for the valet guy to collect her car outside the restaurant, she studied her hand.
She had enjoyed his hot, smooth palm against hers, with his long fingers curled around it. He didn't grab on greedily like some, or weakly like others.
Would he handle me that way in the bedroom, given the chance?
With a firm, controlled touch?
She shook her hand, then shoved the offending limb into her pocket, just as her car arrived.
Chapter 5
The following day at work felt like it went forever.
Sometimes Lilly disliked being CEO of a charity.
Not because trying to get donations from people for any kind of addict was too much like squeezing sap from a dead branch, which it most certainly was. But because witnessing how cruel human nature could be was often too awful to bear.
After meeting a new resident at one of the half-way-houses funded by her charity, she needed a time-out because of just such a situation.
The man bore the mark of the same lending sharks her father once used.
No police investigation could ever find enough evidence to send them to jail, but everyone knew who they were and what they did to repeat non-payers like her father, and like the man she met that afternoon.
If a debtor couldn't pay their debts, these sharks liked to take a hammer to their right hand and crush the bones to powder.
No amount of hospital treatment could fix it once they administered their special kind of retribution.
Lilly remembered when her father went missing for a few months.
She was fifteen when she received his call, and rushed to a hospital out of town to find him with the exact same injury.
Gambling was always his addiction; it crippled her father and robbed Lilly of their relationship.
His addiction started before she was born, so she never knew him before he became the bum no one trusted, the bum they pitied and avoided.
Before he became the family embarrassment.
Times like this she wished she had someone to lean on back home.
But dating was once again relegated to the 'something other people did' pile.
Back to chasing emails and text messages from Anon for fun.
And sometimes, just sometimes, she needed vodka too.
Once home from her lousy day, Lilly poured a long glass of vodka, added tonic, a slice of lime, and two cubes of ice.
Snuggled into her couch, she picked up her cell to turn it off for a few hours reprieve, but before she did so, her friend's name popped up and the handset played Beyonce's ‘Single Ladies’.
"Hey Abbey," Lilly sighed, dreading the conversation about to begin between them, "How's things?"
"Hectic." Abbey ran her own restaurant, and was head chef too. They met at school, became instant friends, and went on to study business management together at college. "Thought I'd get your answerphone. Are you home yet?"
"Yep, I'm home."
"I told you he was beautiful, didn't I? Are you in love yet? Did the date go well? Did you open those perfect pins of yours."
Abbey was never one for soft words.
"No."
"You're playing hard to get, huh? Waiting for the second date to let him screw your cobwebs away? Nice touch."
Where should I start and can I be bothered?
"Well, the date ended early because he was almost an hour late and turned up filthy and smelling like a pool-hall."
Abbey said nothing.
She had let down her friend but Lilly never did ask her to get involved with her love life.
"I don't have time to waste on playboys who think they can buy me off with bubbles. Sorry, but your plan didn’t get me laid."
"His profile pic was sexy as hell. He even wore a suit, albeit with an open neck shirt. You surprise me, saying he turned up dirty."
"Sexy isn't everything." Of course, even filthy he was certainly sexy. "Good manners count for a lot, too."
"Are you saying he was sexy?"
Lilly huffed, "Yeah, he was good looking."
"You should have let me show you his picture, you would have seen him in a better light. I even downloaded a copy to, um . . . enjoy myself with," she laughed.
"What if we'd started dating? Tell me you wouldn't masturbate over an image of my boyfriend."
"Well, I wouldn't keep it if you got serious, obviously."
Abbey would keep the picture in her 'Toy Bag' and would continue to use it until it no longer had the desired effect.
"Sure you would." Lilly huffed. "Dating isn't all about looks anyhow, and I didn't want to be blindsided by a picture before I even met him. This way, I judged him on his actions, not only his freaking cheekbones."
"Who bit your ass? You're so serious, Lilly. You'll die from a heart attack before you reach forty."
Lilly's head started to ache again and she took a long swig of her vodka before saying, "Whatever. We were just a bad fit, Abbey. That's all I'm saying."
"I know you, remember? I bet if he turned up ten minutes early and dressed in a tux with a florist behind him, you would have found some reason to judge him negatively. Maybe he had a good reason for the way he looked. Did you ask why he was late?"
No I didn't ask, why should I?
"Like I said, I didn't have time to waste on him or his excuses."
"See? You never intended to give him a chance did you? Poor guy."
"Did too, and the poor guy was a bum with too much money. You date him if he's so hot."
"Only chance you gave him was the chance to fail. If you're honest, looks are everything when dating. If a chimp showed up swinging from the chandeliers, you might be entertained but you wouldn't want to take him back for coffee, now would you?"
Lilly could feel her jaw tightening, her head thumping, "Abbey, I went along and met the guy, as you insisted, and he wasn't my type for whatever reason. End of the conversation."
Abbey paused before saying in a sweeter voice, "I just thought you were both so similar. If I could show you his details, you might change your mind."
"I don't even want to start dating; I'm not in the right place. I'm too…" Lilly raised her voice, "Just back-off, yeah?"
"Cool it sweetie, I come in peace, remember."
Put in her place, Lilly realized she'd shouted at her best friend.
"Sorry Abbey." It was all getting on top of her. "I'm having a bad day as well as the bad date . . . but there is no excus
e for my attitude. Forgive me?"
"Of course. I'm walking out of the kitchen and into the yard for a smoke. Unload your attitude on these broad shoulders. I can take it."
Lilly loved Abbey, even if she did insist she do things she didn't want to do. "Those sharks hit another one of our service users earlier today. I went to see the poor guy at the halfway house he's at, and . . . I guess it just reminded me of . . ."
"Your dad, I get it." Abbey grew up with Lilly so she witnessed her struggles with her father, and had been the shoulder she cried on many times when they were younger. "How did they get away with it this time?"
"They got away with it the same way they always do. No one knows a thing. No one saw a thing. No one heard a thing. Course, the guy who lost his hand won't say a word either, so the police have nothing to go on. It's infuriating; I was almost sick with it all."
"Who can blame them for not coming forward, though? The sharks have guys everywhere and they're cruel bastards."
Lilly exhaled, utterly exhausted. "Days like today I want a machete and a free pass to dole out my own judgment. I'd show them cruel."
"Ouch, you're scary when you want to be."
Lilly scoffed, wishing she could do more than be scary to people who earned a living from the misery of others.
Wishing the kind of badassery she administered was not solely in her imagination.
"You do all you can for them, you know?" said Abbey softly.
Lilly sniffed back tears and gulped on more vodka. "Never enough though is it?"
After a short pause, where her cell grew hot against Lilly's ear and her arm ached from the effort of holding the handset in place, Abbey asked, "You slurping on vodka by any chance?"
"You got it, and I intend to soak in a hot bath before an early night, too. I'm whacked."
"Sounds like a brilliant idea. You deserve a time-out by the sounds of it."
Another short pause drifted over them, where both realized there was nothing more to say on the subject.
Not without adding to the misery.
Abbey said finally, "I'm sorry I set you up on the date. It's just, you do so much for everyone else day in day out, but no one's looking out for your needs. Guess I wanted him to show you a good time, away from the daily grind."
Lilly remembered Fredrick's beautiful face and honeyed tones, "Hey, I understand sweetie. And he was okay to look at, you were right about that. You picked a sexy guy. But I still left him gargling on expensive Champagne." She sniggered, though the effort to do so weighed heavily on her shoulders, "So . . . what did it say on his profile, anyway?"
"Lots, but what struck me was where it said he's a lonely guy looking for an intelligent lady to share fun times with. Plus, his dating rating is ninety-nine percent."
"Dating rating?"
They rate each other, online? Awful.
"Yes, that’s his score from previous dates. Women love this guy."
"How many dates has he had?" This all seemed too much like a game. Lilly didn't play games or appreciate being a pawn in one. "Oh, why did I ever let you talk me into this nonsense?"
"Because you're a lonely, intelligent lady looking to share fun times."
"Am I though? I'm too busy to be lonely. As for intelligent?" Lilly's throat began to swell, "You decided I was lonely, but that doesn't mean I am." Lilly bit her lip, too tired to argue her point but upset all the same. "And he's exactly the kind of guy I expected would use those kinds of websites. Abbey, do me a favor; take down my profile. And don't set me up on anything else resembling a blind date."
Abbey ignored her, as always, "Sorry, nope. The profile is staying live. You'll be ready to try again in a week or two. They're not all bad. Men are human too... and you are not all right on your own. You need sex at the very least, just like the rest of us."
"Ever heard of masturbation?" Lilly gripped her glass tight, "All I need for a great love life is batteries. Oh, that reminds me."
She walked to the shopping list on her fridge and added 'batteries.'
"A rubber dick is not the same as the real thing. Fact."
"How's your love life since you signed up to that dating site?" She was being a tad hypocritical. "All you ever get from it is laid. If I need anything I can't get for myself, I'll let you know. If I need anything at all from a man, it's a deeper understanding. Not a cock."
"Nothing wrong with my love life, thanks. Getting laid is all I have time for right now; don't knock it till you try it."
"I appreciate you and I love you, but I'm fine as I am. We're just different.”
“Alright, alright. I get it. I’ve got to go back into the restaurant now.”
“Bye, Abbey."
"Sweet dreams, Hun."
Lilly smiled, refilled her glass, and shuffled to her bathroom.
Accepting that when she touched herself and thought of Anon's words as she always did, it would now be Fredrick's mouth she kissed.
Chapter 6
Hours later, Lilly was asleep in her bed, dreaming of Fredrick's smooth mouth on hers, his fingertips moving slowly over her tummy on their way to her sex, and the warm solid treat she imagined between his legs.
"So hot . . . ah," she moaned, throwing off her bedcovers to cool down.
Her moans irritated her sore chest, and she rolled over on her side to choke.
Something toxic smothered her lungs and stifled her breath…
Something was restricting her.
"What the . . ?" she said, struggling to sit up.
Wafting her arms around, she tried to clear a visual path.
"What's going on?" she said, rubbing her eyes and straining to see through the post-sleep blurry vision, into her hazy room.
Her room was too hot and her eyes were teary, making her sniff.
“Smoke? ... What the…”
The realization quickly set in.
“Fuck! My house is on fire!”
Rushing to listen at her bedroom door for clues as to whether she could escape through it, she was terrified of the heat against her cheek and the loud roar of flames beyond it.
How far away are the flames?
On this floor?
Should I stay in my room, where it's smoky, but at least there's no fire?
Yet.
"No, not that way," she said to herself, running over to her window to fiddle with the lock. "Fuck, fuck, please open. Open!"
In her panic, with smoke stinging her eyes, she couldn't turn the key and when she banged hard against the pane of glass, hoping to alert a passerby or break it, all she did was disable her wrist with a loud crack.
Panic.
"Ah . . ." Lilly fell to the floor in pain, panting at the thick hot smoke as it passed beneath the door and corroded her lungs and throat.
Fuck.
The pillows on her bed would help to block the corrosive fumes, but Lilly stared at them, already too dizzy and weak to get to her feet.
All she could do was scream as loud as her damaged throat would allow…
"Help, someone help. Help."
Her screams were muffled.
Her lungs were full already.
Fuck.
This was no way to go.
The floor came rushing towards her face, and crashed against her cheek.
Blackness swallowed her up in a kind of terrifying peace.
Her last thoughts were of a white rose, her father's tears, and Fredrick's smile.
Chapter 7
As their fire truck pulled up outside the burning building, Fredrick and his squad were called to, he radioed back to base.
"Units responding, medic engine 223 on the scene, establishing 212 in command. We have a two-story family dwelling with heavy smoke and fire coming from the front door."
Pulling up to the house, Fredrick found distressed neighbors hanging around.
"We will ascertain more on the scene."
The hope was always that if anyone's suspected to be inside, members of the public would inform him, "A
nd report further as events role out. Over."
As he disembarked from the truck and everyone else in his squad moved to their posts, Fredrick estimated the fire was concentrated, for the time being at least, on the ground floor.
This could be a good thing for anyone sleeping on the first floor, if the smoke hadn't already killed them.
Drake, Fredrick's second in command reported to him via speaker, "All units be advised, enter this property via the North to the South. We have power lines down back here."
"Copy that," Fredrick said, noticing a woman in her nightdress looking eager to speak to him. While the rest of the crew fired their hoses into the blaze, he approached her and asked, "Can you tell me if anyone is likely to be in there, Ma'am?"
Fear and shock temporarily struck the elderly lady, but a second later she gushed, "Oh yes, yes. A lovely young lady lives there. Yes, yes. She rarely stays out past ten. Oh no, you have to do something. She'll be in bed, help her." The woman grabbed his arm with a shaky hand, "You have to get her out."
"Thank you, Ma'am. I aim to do just that." Fredrick looked up at the first floor windows to judge the level of risk, "You need to stay well back from here." He addressed everyone else loitering and taking pictures, and shouted at them, "You too, stand well back."
With a tearful pale face, the lady wrapped her arms around herself and backed away, repeating, "Poor girl, poor, poor girl."
Fredrick jogged right up to the house, reporting to base, "To all units, G1IC, this is 223 reporting. I have reports confirming there is most likely one woman trapped inside the house, possibly on the first floor."
He moved around the house, checking for anything which might cause additional problems, and which should be taken care of before an attempt at evacuation. There was nothing to concern him. "Check done. We're going to make entry and perform a rescue. Over."
Neighbors shouted, "What are you waiting for, man? Get in there," as he went about his business.
People found it irritating when fire fighters didn't run inside like superheroes, but he understood their sense of urgency.
Panic and their complete ignorance of safety procedures in place to protect the fire fighter's, those in the fire, and those within a few miles radius of the scene, didn't help.
