“It has a tracker on it.” I simply say.
“How do you have access to be able to track a rental car? I thought only the rental companies can do that.”
“It’s actually my car, not a rental.”
“Wait, what?” She questions, sounding a little angry.
“I never told you that you were getting a rental. I wanted to make sure that you had a reliable car. One that is maintained regularly and properly. I didn't want something else to happen to you.”
The line is silent and then I hear her take a deep, calming breath. “Can you please have someone come pick it up? I'm sorry and I really appreciate everything that you've done for me, but I've been able to get by without a car for the last five days. I can go a little longer until I figure things out.”
“Okay,” I agree. “On one condition.”
She takes another breath and asks, “And what would that be?”
“Let me take you out to dinner. A real date. Not just lunch on the fly like last week.”
All I hear is silence on the other end of the phone. Not a good sign.
I’m about to chime in when she says, “Do I get to pick the place?”
“You’re more than welcome to suggest something, but I have total veto power.”
She laughs slightly and says, “How about O'Haras?”
I make a face even though she can’t see it. “If I wanted old, greasy food and stale beer, then that would definitely be the place to go. But I don't, and you deserve way better than that, so no.”
“It's not that bad.”
“No.”
“Fine, then what about Shay's Grille?”
“Ehhh. It’s better than O’Haras, but I have something else in mind. I'll pick you up tomorrow night at 7:00.”
“Well, where are we going? I need to figure out what I should wear.”
“I’m going to make it a surprise, but regarding the attire, it’s black tie.”
“No, absolutely not. Thank you anyway but, with all due respect, I can't accept the invitation. I sincerely appreciate you checking in, Marshall. I need to go now. Goodbye.”
“Wait, Adri-- Adrienne?” Nothing. “She hung up on me!” I say to no one.
Adrienne
It’s been a crazy-busy week and I am looking forward to Netflix and chillin’ with myself this evening. I’m in a major need of stress relief right now. Unbeknownst to me, someone has other plans. Just as I get myself settled in — Bridget Jones’s Diary queued up to play, T.V. dinner cooling off on the table in front of me, a so-cold-the-label-is-bright-blue beer in my hand, comfy clothes — the buzzer goes off alerting me to someone on the street trying to get in. This happens a lot. Sometimes it’s a neighbor who forgot their key, sometimes it’s kids playing a game of ding-dong-ditch, city-style. I get up off of the sofa and press the button on the intercom to see if someone is there.
“Hello?” I ask. The voice that I hear on the other end of the intercom belongs to the last person that I expected to be here.
“Adrienne, it’s Marshall.” My stomach flip-flops.
“Marshall, hi. What are you doing here?”
“I was wondering if, either you could come down here or if I could come up there for just a moment?”
“Marshall, I can’t go to dinner with you. I’m so sorry, I truly mean that.” I can’t go. That doesn’t mean that I didn’t want to go. But Marshall isn’t just out of my league, we aren’t even playing the same sport.
“I understand, really. If you don’t want to do dinner with me then that’s fine. I just want to talk to you for a moment.”
I pause before answering.
“Okay, I’ll be down in just a minute.” I let go of the intercom, sprint into the bathroom to make my hair look somewhat presentable. It’s then that I remember that I’d already taken off my makeup.
“Shit!” I look terrible. I splash a little bit of cold water on my face hoping to perk my skin up a little, and head back to my apartment door. My apartment is situated at the top of the stairs leading up to the second story, so I see him as soon as I step out onto the landing. Seeing him again, in person, in all of his stunning glory, stops me in my tracks. I smile timidly at him and start my descent on the staircase.
My apartment is located in an old brownstone in the city. What was once a luxurious town home, is now separated into seven apartment units, two each on the first three floors and a small loft style unit on the top floor. I take hold of the dark, wooden balustrade railing and make my way down the hardwood steps. Marshall smiles at me when I make it to the front door and open it.
“Hey, thank you so much for agreeing to see me. I’m sorry to pop in unannounced like this.” He says.
“It’s okay. Is everything alright?” I ask, with my shoulder against the door, propping it open.
“Well, not really. You see, I wanted to take a gorgeous girl out to dinner this evening, but she turned me down, cold.” I try to hide the smirk on my face, but he is too adorable to resist. When he sees it, he smiles a hopeful smile. I quickly clear my throat.
“Oh really? Well, the way I heard it was, you were trying to take a beer girl out for champagne, and that’s not really her style.” I state.
“I know, and that’s why I’m here.” His tone tells me that his banter is turning more serious now. “I’m sorry if I offended you or scared you away last night. That was the last thing that I wanted to do. But, if you’ll let me, I’d like to make it up to you.” He stands there with his eyes wide, waiting anxiously for my answer. I lift an eyebrow and nod, letting him know that he can continue.
“I would love nothing more than to have dinner with you tonight. Since it’s already after eight o’clock, I took the liberty of ordering take out from Shay’s Grille, per your recommendation. It’s in the back seat of my car and if you’d like, we can go upstairs for a nice quiet dinner. Maybe get to know each other a little better? You know, ask all of the obligatory first date questions kind of thing. No strings attached.” The look on his face is priceless and adorable. And also shocking. This isn’t what I expected to hear him say at all.
“Well, it sounds like a wonderful idea, on one condition.”
“And what’s that?” he asks.
“Did you happen to order a burger and fries?” I say, jokingly.
“You’re in luck!” he laughs.
“Well, I guess I’m out of excuses.” I jest as I wave my hand toward the stairs leading to my apartment. He smiles his achingly handsome smile before grabbing the food out of his car and following me up the stairs.
Marshall
“Oh my God, that was delicious.” Adrienne says with a satisfied breath.
I wipe my mouth with my napkin. I can’t get over how naturally beautiful she is. She’s cute as hell, too. “Yeah, I’ve got to hand it to you,” I look over at her, sitting on the floor on the other side of the coffee table, “their burgers are amazing.”
“Are you finished with your plate?” she asks as she stands and picks up her own.
“Yes, but let me help you. You don’t need to wait on me.”
“No, you’re my guest. And besides, you paid for dinner. I can do the clean-up.” She smiles as she takes the plate out of my hands.
“Fair enough.” I state as she turns and walks toward her kitchen.
I stand up and look around at her apartment. The front door opens directly into the living area. The hardwood floors run through into the kitchen which is to the right. They continue down the hallway and into her bedroom, which is on the other side of the kitchen. She gave me the ten-cent tour when we got here. The way she walked through her home was endearing. She made jokes about how modest the size of her place is, but you could tell she was very proud of it. I love that about her. She’s real. She doesn’t feel pressured to buy name-brand everything. She has exactly what she needs and she doesn’t want for much more than that. I can really learn a lot from her.
I come to a collage of seven photographs of trees or forest sce
nery as I feel her presence behind me.
“These photographs are amazing. Did you take them yourself?” I ask.
“No, I found some of them at yard sales. The others I picked up at a thrift store over on Eighth Avenue. I love trees and the forest,” she laughs and continues “When I was a kid I always dreamed about living in a huge tree house, like from Swiss Family Robinson. If it weren’t for my work, I would find a secluded house out in the woods or mountains, surrounded by trees, to live in.”
I turn around to look at her with a smile on my face. “That sounds wonderful. It would be nice to have a place like that to escape to when life gets stressful.” She hands me another beer. I accept and wave my hand in the direction of the charcoal-colored linen sofa and we both have a seat. The sofa is larger than a love seat, but it’s not what some might consider standard sofa-length. This puts us a little closer together and I can already feel my pants getting tighter. The way her hair falls over the front of her shoulder makes me want to run my fingers through it. The swell of her perky tits has my hand twitching to caress them, but my less than wholesome thoughts are interrupted.
“So, I told you where I worked the other day. What about you? What do you do for a living?” she inquiries.
I take a swig of my drink before answering. I don’t usually like talking about my job. I’ve been burned in the past because of my bank account and status. My last serious relationship was five years ago to a whore named Caitlyn Harper. She tore through my life like an F-5 tornado. She used me for my money and to gain status before moving on to my now former friend, Blake. But with Adrienne, there is something about her that tells me she’s different. I already feel like I can talk to her about anything.
“I’m the CEO for T.F. Pharmaceutical Laboratories. We specialize in cutting edge science to bring the newest, most effective prescription drugs and medicine to doctors and hospitals.”
“Wow, most impressive.” She states.
“Did you just make a Star Wars reference?” I ask, thinking that it was probably just a coincidence.
“Uhh, yeah. Sorry, I quote movies a little too often.” She blushes as she says this.
“No, don’t apologize. I don’t think I’ve ever met a girl, other than my sister, who can quote Star Wars, let alone one who has ever seen any of the movies.”
“No way! My dad and I used to watch them all the time when I was growing up. But I’m more of a closet fan. It actually kind of slipped out, I usually don’t start quoting movies until the 3rd date.” She winks and the cutest, most innocent smile crosses over her lips. All I can think about is kissing them again.
“Well, you’ve already started, no turning back now.” I joke.
“Fair enough,” she starts, turning the subject back to my work, “So, it sounds like your job is very rewarding, working to help people. We kind of have that in common.”
“I know you mentioned that you wanted to start your own organization after you graduate, have you looked into it at all?” I ask.
“I’ve done a little bit of research. It’s incredibly overwhelming. My boss told me that she is willing to assist me with anything that I may need to get started.”
“Good, I’m glad you have someone to mentor you. That will be a huge help.”
“Thank you.” She pauses, “So you mentioned that you have a sister?”
“Yes, Leah. She’s fifteen years younger than me and has had me wrapped around her finger ever since she was born. She’s a tough manipulator, that’s for sure.” I state with a laugh.
“That’s adorable! Do you have any other siblings?”
“No, my mom actually passed away during childbirth, so it was just me and my dad for the first thirteen years of my life.
“Marshall, I’m so sorry, that’s terrible.”
“Don’t be,” I smile. “It was a long time ago.”
There’s a short pause where she looks like she was trying to figure out what to say. “So then, my dad got remarried to Noelle, and they had Leah. What about you? Any siblings?”
“Nope, it’s just me.” She starts. “My parents were teachers and at the time, they weren’t very well off. They wanted to be able to give me everything that I needed rather than give several children the bare minimum.”
“You said that they were teachers. Are they doing something else now, or…?” My sentence trails off as I realize what she meant. “I’m so sorry, Adrienne. It never occurred to me.” I lean forward and take one of her hands in mine as she uses her other hand to wipe a lone tear from her cheek.
“It’s okay. Really. Looks like we have something else in common,” she says trying to make light of this dark situation that we’ve found ourselves in.
“If you don’t mind my asking, what happened?”
“They were invited to go out on a friend’s sailboat one afternoon. A storm came in suddenly and they weren’t able to get out of there in time. The boat capsized and everybody drowned.”
“That’s awful. How old were you?”
“It was a month before my seventeenth birthday.”
“That’s terrible. What did you do after that? Did you go stay with family?”
“No. Both of my parents were only children and my grandparents had all passed away long before this happened. Even though my parents were deceased, the judge let me apply for emancipation so I wouldn’t have to go into a group home. Between the money that my parents left me as well as the money that I got for selling their house and some other belongings, I was able to rent a room from an elderly lady down the street from our old house, until I could finish high school. Then, I found an old apartment, here in the city. My parent’s lawyer actually helped me apply for government assistance so I was able to use that for the majority of my food and a few utilities. When I started college and decided that I wanted to be a social worker, my adviser helped me get a job where I am now, and the rest is history.”
In that moment, I am in awe of her bravery and independence. Instead of turning this into the sob-story that most would, the sob-story that she has every right to turn it into, she weaves it into a story of survival.
“You’re truly incredible. You know that, right?” I tell her as she blushes my new favorite color once again.
“Thank you. That means a lot. It hasn’t been easy, but I always try to stay as positive as I can. A lot of people have asked me how I did it. How I made it through all of that. I mean, you just do, you know? I didn’t have any other choice. So I worked my butt off in school and at work, and I did what I had to do in order to afford to put myself through college.” She stops and is looking at me. She shrugs her shoulders and cocks her eyebrow and says, “And here I am now.”
Present Day
Lana
Liza’s office is inside a building located on N. Boundary Street and it’s one of the most beautiful skyscrapers that I’ve ever seen. It’s all glass and steel and it’s situated in a part of the city that overlooks the water. On really sunny days, the rays of the sun shining down on the flowing water cast a reflection onto the glass and it makes the building appear as if it’s floating. However, this is the only part of the city that I enjoy; I truly despise city life. There are too many people, it smells like piss and exhaust, and all of the noise makes my anxiety level go through the roof. So when we pull up outside of the building where Liza’s office is, I practically leap out of the car and hightail it into the lobby as quickly as I can.
The lobby’s floor is made of dark gray slate and the walls are decorated with light gray wooden paneling. There is a large, black, marble security desk blocking the way to the banks of elevators behind it. There are long lines of people waiting to scan their work badges before they can get through the turnstile to begin their workday. There are others like us who have appointments somewhere in the building, who stand in another line to sign in at the desk before they’re allowed to pass. However, because of Lock’s status within the city, we skip all of that and head straight to the elevator. Once inside, Lock
hits the button for the 73rd floor. Thankfully, there are other people in the car with us. I might be slightly claustrophobic, but at least I don’t have to bear the ride alone with him.
When we finally make it to Liza’s floor, we step out into the elevator lobby, which is decorated in the same manner as the main lobby downstairs. We turn left to go through the large glass door into the office and walk straight to the nurse’s station to let them know that we’re here. They lead us to the exam room right away; they learned very quickly that Lochlan Finch waits for no one. The exam room looks like any other; a desk with cabinets around it and a few chairs to sit on. The dreaded table with the indecent leg supports to keep you spread wide open and extremely vulnerable, sits directly in the middle. Liza comes into the room within minutes. “Lana, how are you?” she asks, completely ignoring Lock.
“I’m fine, thank you.” I give her the same answer every time I see her.
“Well, then. Let’s get started. Lock, can you—” she’s cut off.
“Shut up Liza!” Lock refuses to call her Dr. Bradley due to his misogynistic view of women. “I’m not going anywhere without an explanation as to why my wife remains without child. I was told that you were the best in the city, but I’m calling bullshit! You will do whatever is needed to be done in order for her to become pregnant, or I’ll make your life a living hell. You won’t be able to leave your house without seeing one of my men. You won’t be able to go to the grocery store without being followed. You won’t be able to wipe your filthy cunt without me knowing about it!” He is yelling at this point.
Liza, never backing down or showing that she is affected by Lock whatsoever states, “Well that’s just ridiculous. Lana is a perfectly healthy woman, but like a lot of other perfectly healthy women, it can be a struggle to get pregnant. And some of those women are never able to get pregnant. The Clomiphene injections that we’ve been giving Lana for the past year are designed to adjust a woman’s body in a way that increases her hormone production in order to trigger her ovaries to make eggs. This, paired with the number of times that we’ve performed an insemination using your semen usually works. However, you should start getting used to the fact that this may not be an option for you and Lana.”
Stolen Love (The Wildheart Duet Book 1) Page 4
