by Erica M Kim
Watching Lio’s nimble fingers knot and piece together a fishing pole is fascinating. After securing the squid bait onto the hook, he hands me the pole.
“Okay, now, you don’t want to cast behind your head. You don’t need to do that here. Just swing the line out in the water, like this,” he says as he demonstrates.
Within a few minutes, my line is sunk into the deep blue ocean, and I’m holding onto the pole with both hands as if my life depends on it.
“How will I know?” I ask because I really have no idea.
“You’ll feel it, Lunis. At first, it will feel like a little nibble, and then you’ll feel the bite. Tug your line back, and you’ll hook the fish, then slowly reel in.”
“Okay . . .” I say unsurely. I risk taking one hand off the pole to take a few chugs of my beer.
Ten minutes pass without any nibbles, and my shoulders start slowly to relax, and the pole feels more natural in my hands. I take a seat in the chair and steal a glance at Lio. He seems relaxed, deeply in thought, as he stares into the horizon. There’s not a single boat visible around us. He must feel my gaze and matches my stare.
His blue eyes look into mine, searching for something. I look intently into his beautiful eyes, and my lips crack into a smile. I see dimples forming, and the smile is returned. Everything just feels so right.
Suddenly, I feel a small tug on my pole. I watch the pole, grasping it tightly, and then it happens again.
“I feel something!” I say excitedly.
“Okay, now wait until he bites big. Right now, that sucker is just testing the bait out. Once he takes a big bite, pull firmly to hook him, but not too hard,” Lio instructs. I follow his directions, and the fish starts pulling my pole harder. “Start reeling in now,” he says urgently.
Without hesitation, I start cranking away at the reel. It feels like I’m spinning it hundreds of times, like I’m reeling in a shark, not a fish. After an eternity, my wrist is aching, but a fish is finally coming up to the surface. With one final reel, its head peeks out of the water. And finally, it’s out of the water. It’s about seven inches long, with stripes running down its white belly.
“It’s a striped bass.” Lio reaches out to steady the flopping fish and unhook it. “And it’s very tasty.” After throwing it in an ice chest, Lio helps me hook another bait.
An hour and a half later, our total fish count is five. Three caught by me, and two by Lio. I’m pretty damn proud of my newfound skill.
“Who knew there is a fisherman in you, doll? You did well. Now comes the fun part.” Lio graciously lets me sit out the cleaning and gutting of the fish, and instead, I prep the vegetables for our dinner. Just as I was getting around to peeling and cutting all of the carrots, Lio brings all the fillets down to the galley.
“You can go rest, doll. I’ll take it from here.”
“Are you sure?” I ask hesitantly.
“Yes, I’m sure. Go sit down.” He nods to the couch. I do as he asks, but once I’m sitting on the sofa, I can’t help but feel utterly useless.
“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do to help?”
“No, Lunis. I’m fine. You already did a lot of the prepping anyway. The remote is on the coffee table. Just relax.” But I can’t relax. I flipped through all of the channels at least three times before finally giving up. Instead, I decide to keep myself busy by looking around the living area and admiring the artwork and the views. A girl can certainly get used to this.
16
While Lio works in the kitchen, the sculpture near the window catches my eye. It’s an octopus that has its tentacles sprawled and twisted around everywhere. It is made of white stone and is as tall as I am. It’s hauntingly beautiful and sensual at the same time.
The next one is near the entrance and is melded into the wall. It’s a giant seashell that sticks out of the wall. Inside the seashell, there’s a beautiful mermaid nestled, deep in slumber. Her sleeping face is peaceful yet sad. The sculpture is made out of what looks like darkened copper. As I’m staring at the sculpture, a glass of white wine appears next to me, and I realize that Lio is beside me.
“Sancerre?” Lio’s voice breaks the silence.
“Yes, please. Thank you.” I take a sip of the chilled wine. It’s refreshing and light with a fruity aftertaste.
“Beautiful, isn’t she?”
“Yes. She seems sad, though.”
“Perhaps,” Lio responds pensively. “Dinner is ready.” I glance around to check the dining table, but it looks empty.
“It’s up on the deck,” Lio says, reading my mind. He then holds out a hand for me, and I gladly accept it. On the deck, I realize how serene and quiet it is on the ocean. We are alone, without a single boat in sight, and the sun is slowly starting to make its descent toward the vast blue horizon.
Hues of magenta and orange are splashed across the sky in a colorful array. It’s quite breathtaking. In the middle of the deck, I spot a table that has been set up. Lights are strung across the top of the deck, twinkling in a beautiful display. There are candles lit everywhere and even a gas-lit heat lamp to keep us warm.
“When did you do all this?” My voice is laden with shock and awe.
“After I gutted the fish,” he says proudly.
“It’s beautiful, Lio.” He smiles in return and wraps his arm around my shoulders.
“Come on, let’s eat before the food gets cold.”
The food is wonderful. Lio is an amazing chef. He’s prepared the bass with a miso-glaze. The buttery flesh of the fish melts away in my mouth. There’s a side of roasted carrots and shallots, and wasabi-infused mashed potatoes, which is a first, but nonetheless very delicious. The white wine pairs perfectly with the meal, balancing out all of the flavors.
It’s the first time someone has cooked a meal for me since . . . my parents passed away. The meal nourishes my body and soul as I put all those years of eating alone behind me.
“This is so good, Lio. I’m seriously impressed.” He certainly won a few brownie points tonight.
“That’s the goal. Impress and seduce,” Lio says with a wink. I give him a cheerful, genuine smile before I take another sip of the wine.
“So, what is it you would be doing right now if I didn’t whisk you away? What do you fill your weekends with?” Again, with the questions.
“Well, what time is it right now?”
“It’s five-thirty.”
“Right now, I would be preparing dinner. Sunday is free-for-all-day, so I’d be eating whatever I feel like. Every other day is regimented.” As I say this last part, I look down at my food shyly.
“What do you mean regimented?” Lio pushes.
“Er . . . you know. Planned out. I don’t do anything without planning it out. You should know that all of this spontaneity is extremely out of character. It kind of freaks me out.” Kind of being an understatement.
“Is that so? I didn’t realize that about you. I’ll try harder to give you a heads up about what I plan from now on,” Lio says this with sincerity that warms my soul. “What else scares you, Lunis?”
“What is this? The Spanish Inquisition?” I say jokingly, but I can tell Lio thinks I’m agitated by his furrowed eyebrows.
“No,” Lio says as he puts a hand behind his neck. “Does it bother you? I’m just trying to get to know you, Lunis. You’re a mysterious person, and it takes some prying to get you to open up to me.” Well, he’s definitely right about that.
“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound testy.” I stop myself from confessing that I’ve never had intimate conversations with anyone before because Lio might just jump off the boat then. “I’m scared of a lot of things, Lio. I’m afraid of spiders. I’m afraid of never being accepted. I’m afraid of being alone.” I’m afraid of losing control. I’m afraid of getting close to someone. I’m afraid of falling in love, because above all, I’m afraid of losing another person that I love.
Silence finds me after my answers, my fingers lacing tightly t
ogether in nervousness as I fidget awkwardly. There are so many emotions going through my mind that it’s hard for me to process it all. Lio’s eyebrows are knitted together as he thinks about my answers, then he looks at me squarely.
“I won’t let you be afraid, Lunis. Not when you’re with me,” he says with resolve. Well, that’s impossible. Being with you is what makes me the most afraid. “Plus,” he continues with a proud grin, “I’m an excellent spider killer. You have a spider-killing job? All you need to do is call.”
“I know, Lio,” I say with a soft smile, then look down, releasing my nervous grip as Lio gets up from his chair. Somehow, I know he has only the best intentions. Suddenly, music fills the room. It’s Frank Sinatra’s voice crooning Fly Me to the Moon. I momentarily freeze, is it a coincidence? It has to be a coincidence. I don’t have much time to mull over this because Lio appears next to me.
“Will you dance with me?” Lio’s voice and outstretched hand interrupt my thoughts. Nervously I accept his hand, and he leads me to the center of the deck. Listening carefully to the words for the first time, I realize how romantic the song is. I feel like I’m filming a scene from a romance movie. It’s surreal that someone is doing all this for me, in real life. I’m tempted to pinch myself awake.
Before I know it, Lio wraps his arm around my waist, and my face is inches away from his as we slowly sway to the song. My body is pressed against Lio’s, and I’m trying my best not to meld to his body completely. I’m close enough to him to smell him. His scent reminds me of a clear summer day, woodsy and clean. It’s absolutely enticing, and I take in a deep breath. I will never, ever forget this heavenly smell.
My left hand is resting on his shoulder and notice just how muscular he is, even his shoulders are well-defined. My hands barely resist the urge to run along his body. I stare at the way his hair is parted and how the gentle ocean breeze is tousling his chestnut brown strands.
Finally, I risk glancing at his face and meeting Lio’s eyes, staring at me as if I’m an orange elephant. His gaze is probing, yet tender and seductive. Our faces are just inches away from each other, and my lips are literally tingling, begging to feel Lio’s lips on mine. The air between us is taut, and I can’t take it any longer. It’s tangible, held together by millions of tiny strings, begging to be broken, one cord at a time. To unravel, completely, and utterly. I feel my neck craning up, and I’m asking for it. Please. Just kiss me, please. I lick my lips in anticipation.
Lio’s eyebrows knit together, and a torn look passes through his eyes momentarily. A second later, he concedes to his own lust, and his face is coming closer to mine. I could feel his warm breath close to my face as my eyes shutter. I’ve been waiting for this moment for an eternity. It belongs to me.
When his lips graze mine, the entire world spins. Like I’m spinning on a carnival ride, my knees go weak, even though Lio is barely touching my lips. I resist the urge to grab his face and pull it into mine; I want to meld our lips together—forever. Every cell in my body seems to want to launch itself at this man. After a far too short moment, Lio pulls away, and I’m disappointed. I feel bereft of the passion that is begging to be unleashed. Irritated, my eyes fly open.
“Lunis, as much I liked that, I wasn’t planning on it,” he says warily. He has a gentle smile that is impossible to resist. I let out a long sigh.
“I appreciate that you stopped,” I confess. I don’t know if I would be able to stop myself if he continued and getting more tangled into this relationship is the last thing I need. My lips still tingle where Lio had just been.
“Should we head back?” Lio points to the harbor. A part of me is heartbroken that the sweet moment is over. Perhaps he just doesn’t want to lead me on either.
“Yeah, let’s do it.” And with that, Lio calls Jacob and tells him that we’ll be back soon.
Jacob is waiting for us at the harbor, and he quickly helps us dock. By the time we get off the yacht, he’s already disappeared, as if he was never there. He’s likely hanging around somewhere to clean the boat and bring it back into pristine condition.
The car ride home is quiet, and it feels like there is a deafening silence, even with the music playing. As if there is a bubble creating a palpable space between us. That one tiny kiss changed everything. Lio and I are both lost in deep thought without a single thing to say to each other. What is he thinking about? Does he have a wife and kids hidden somewhere? Does he also have some dark hidden secret that he’s hiding? Does he have some intuition that I’m no good for him? Why is he so hesitant about getting close to me? Hundreds of questions attack my mind like arrows flying into a fortress and I can’t find a single good answer.
At last, we’re waiting at a traffic light, and Lio reaches over and grabs my hand. I steal a glance at him and find Lio staring at me. His mouth breaks into a slow smile. I give him a shy smile back. The silence isn’t awkward. The silence is appreciated.
By the time we reach the front of my apartment, I’m undeniably sad that the day has come to an end. There’s nothing I want to do more than to spend every single waking moment with this man.
“I had a marvelous time today, Lio. Thank you.” He seriously knows how to charm a lady. But I am no lady.
“I’m glad you did. You’re very welcome, doll.” The time that passes in this infinitesimal moment seems to span across a lifetime. We both gaze at each other hungrily. I almost want to invite him in. But I won’t. It will be game over.
“You should go inside,” Lio says, regaining control first again. I mentally kick myself in the head. Learn some control, Lunis.
“Have a good night, Lio. Thanks again for today.” With that, I turn around and open the door. Within an instant, he’s by the door, holding it open as I get out. He shuts it behind me as I walk toward the driveway. Once I reach the front door and unlock it, I risk stealing a glance behind me, mainly because I can’t help it.
Lio is still standing next to the passenger side door, with a grim face that looks completely torn again. We seem to be both waging the same mental wars again and again. He breaks into a soft smile as he waves at me.
“Good night,” he yells as a boyish grin breaks through, nearly melting me to the ground like the Wicked Witch of the West.
“Bye,” I yell. Hurry! Get inside before I melt!
Oh boy. I’ve almost lost it.
After washing off the ocean’s smell, I’m lying in bed, and my fantastical thoughts about Lio are interrupted by a text message. I roll in bed to the nightstand to check my phone, hoping to see Lio’s name.
Markus Sirelle: Sweet dreams.
What the fuck? I don’t even text back and turn the lights off. Markus Sirelle, if there’s one thing you should know, it’s that I don’t mix personal with business. Unless I’m being paid to do so. In which case, you’ll find yourself dead very soon.
17
For some strange reason, I wake up earlier than my alarm this morning. After tossing and turning—and too much fantasizing about Lio to be honest—I decide to get up at the ungodly hour of 5:30 a.m. Holding back a cough, I chug down a piping hot mug of coffee quickly. Once I pull on some workout clothes, I head to the garage to put in some time with the punching bags.
Forty-five minutes spent switching off between the heavy bag and the speed bag, and a layer of salty moisture is dripping down my forehead. It feels damn good to get some of this pent-up frustration out of me. After a quick, steaming hot shower, I dig out the manila envelope with Vincent’s files and begin to dig into research over another cup of hot coffee.
Vincent has never been married and doesn’t have any children either. At least none on record. He lives in a mansion in the Hollywood Hills that looks like it belongs on the cover of Architectural Digest. He enjoys the finer things in life. He probably thinks he deserves it with the blood, sweat, and tears he’s poured into building his empire. Rubbing my temples seems to help absorb all the new information.
Vincent likes to keep the appearance of being
a well-to-do man. But behind this thinly-veiled ruse is a man with a crooked business and a twisted fetish. Although there’s no evidence, his files state that several women claim to have been a part of his sexual exploits. Bile coats my throat as I read through some of the stories. I’ll need to eventually make a trip to his home to do some recon before the full moon. I’m not looking forward to what I’m going to find there at all.
After wrapping up my early morning research, the regular program resumes. Monday morning is bagel-and-lox day. It’s perfect, just like the eerie fact that there is almost no traffic this morning. Nonetheless, nothing seems to quite compare with basking in Lio’s glorious presence. I want to do nothing else but spend every waking moment with him, and even the simple things that I used to take pleasure in, just aren’t the same anymore. He didn’t text last night or this morning. It’s petty, but I had expected some type of communication. Only because I wanted so badly to talk to him. Just to know that he was alive somewhere in the universe. And thinking about me, of course.
It’s 10:00 a.m., and Ramon is nowhere to be found at Hair of the Dog. There is a full schedule of dog washes, haircuts, and nail trimming. Irritation prickles my skin. As if answering my thoughts, the phone starts ringing.
“Hair of the Dog, this is Lunis.”
“Hola Lunis, it’s Ramon.”
“Ramon, where are you?” Annoyance seeps into my voice even though I try to keep it at bay.
“Anabel is very sick today.” Ramon’s voice is filled with misery. Anabel is Ramon’s younger sister, who is currently fighting a very hard battle against leukemia. Ramon sometimes works two, even three, jobs to help pay for the mounting medical bills. Guilt washes over me as sympathy fills my heart.
“Okay, take care of her today. But please let me know in advance if you won’t be in tomorrow.” As soon as I hang up the phone, I order delivery breakfast for his family and some flowers for Anabel. I’m sure the last thing you remember to do is take care of yourself when you’re taking care of a sick child. It’s the least I could do.
