by Erin Noelle
I pad over to the refrigerator, grab him a bottle of dark ale, and hand it to him. “Leo, can I ask you a question?”
“If I said no, you would ask anyway, so I’m not sure why you’re asking permission,” he snickers.
I hop up on the kitchen counter, like I always do when I’m hanging out in the kitchen, and chuckle. “You’re right. I would.” I lean over and stir the chicken and broth in the crock pot before turning back to him. “What do you want to be when you grow up?”
He laughs so hard in response that he even spits out some of his drink. “Kat, I’m thirty-one. I am grown up.
Feeling a bit embarrassed because I always forget that he’s quite a bit older than me, I ask the question in a different way. “You know what I mean. I’m sure driving me around at night so that I can fuck with the male population probably wasn’t what you told your mom you wanted to do when you were a kid. What are your goals? Do you want a family of your own?”
He shrugs and curls his lip up a bit. “You’ve been my priority ever since I could remember. I don’t really think about doing anything else. Sure, I’ve thought about having a family, but I don’t think that’s in the stars for me.”
“Why? Because of me?” I figure it’s best to just to ask what I really want to know.
His brown eyes stare me down, but I don’t back down. “Do you do it because I’m your employer or for another reason?” I ask.
Tearing his eyes from mine, he gulps down the remainder of his beer and sets it down on the counter. He completely disregards my questions and changes the subject. “When are you sending out the pictures?”
I huff and slide down until my feet hit the floor. “Thanks for ignoring me,” I snap as I walk out of the room. Retrieving my laptop from the office¸ I join him at the bar and set everything up. “I guess now is as good as time as any. Let me show you the ones I’m going to send and you take a final look over them.”
As he’s studying the photos, I do a final stir of the meal and pour myself another glass of wine. I look over at him and I am suddenly reminded of Leo sitting at the bar in my family’s house the day I realized that my sperm donor really was an evil monster.
I came in from my swimming in the back yard to the delicious smell of spaghetti and garlic bread being prepared in the kitchen. “Mama Rosa, are you making my favorite?” I called out in my high-pitched thirteen-year-old voice.
“Of course, my sweet girl,” she answered in her heavy Italian accent. “It will be ready in about twenty minutes. Go get changed.”
I wandered into the kitchen, dripping water on the floor from my still-wet swimsuit. Mama Rosa was hovering over the stove while Leo was sitting up at the bar playing on his laptop. He looked up at me and flashed a big smile. “Hey Katie-bug, are you all ready for the Olympics now?” he teases me.
“Don’t call me that! I’m not a bug!” I exclaimed, stomping my foot like a small child on the stone-tiled floor.
“Well, you look like one in that swim cap with those silly goggles on your head,” he retorted.
I ripped the cap and goggles off, allowing my waist-length flaxen hair loose, and glared at him. “You’re so mean! You’re just jealous that I can outswim you and you’re a boy.”
Just at that moment, my dad walked in the back door with a scowl on his face. “Where is Stephanie?” he barked out at no one in particular. When none of us answered him, he focused on me, “I asked where your mother is, and why in the world are you standing here getting these floors soaked, Katrina? “
“I just came in from swimming, Dad. I don’t know where Momma is, probably upstairs taking a nap.”
“She’s such a lazy bitch,” he grumbled. As he pushed past me to head towards the stairs, he shoved me slightly, and because the floor was slippery, I fell to the ground.
Leo flew off of the barstool and got right up in my dad’s face instantly. “Keep your hands off of her,” he warned with a fury in his eyes that I had never seen from him before.
Despite the fact my dad was a professional football player and feared pretty much no one, he took a small step back from the passionate twenty-year-old before cautioning him. “Be careful, young man. I respect your attempt to be a hero, but remember I’m the reason that your mom has a job and a green card, and what allows you to go to college. Stay out of my family’s business. This will be the only time I warn you.” He didn’t wait for Leo to respond before stomping out of the kitchen and bounding up the stairs to find my mom.
Both Leo and Rosa rushed to help me up and make sure I was okay, which I assured them I was. Completely flustered by the entire situation, I escaped to my room as quickly as possible and didn’t come out for the rest of the night. Mama Rosa brought my dinner up to me, and thankfully, didn’t mention what had happened earlier. That night, Leo snuck into my room to check on me and promised me he would never let anyone hurt me.
“Why are you staring at me like that?” he breaks my train of thought.
Closing my eyes, I shake my head and take a deep breath. “I was recalling the day that he pushed me down in the kitchen. You were sitting up at the bar, playing on a laptop, similar to the way you look right now.”
“He was a piece of shit, Kat. Neither you nor your mom deserved the way he treated you guys.”
“You know, up until that day, I had no idea what an asshole he was,” I confess with an exasperated sigh. “I mean I knew Momma would be sad when he didn’t come home at night, especially during the season when he was gone all of the time, but he was still my Dad. I still thought he was the greatest guy. But when he came home that day, it was like a switch had gone off in his head, and he just didn’t care to pretend that he liked us anymore. I wish either he or we would’ve just left that day. Maybe then she would still be here…”
He hops off the stool and comes around to hold me in a tight embrace. “I know you miss her. I do too, and so does Mama.”
“It’s why I have no qualms about what I’m doing; I want to fuck up his world. He deserves every bad thing that ever happens to him, plus some.”
Releasing me, he looks into my eyes. “Are you ready to send them then?”
I nod and walk over to the laptop. I already have the email drafted from the bogus account that I set up and ready to go. All I have to do is hit send and the pictures of Daniel Saunders — who is both the governor’s head of communications and the mayor’s son-in-law — in some rather compromising positions will be in the hands of several influential members of the New York media. Not wasting another second, I click the button to deliver them to chosen recipients, and all I can do is sit back and wait.
“I want you to take this laptop with you when you leave and make sure it’s destroyed. I’m not sure what lengths they will go to in order to trace it back, but I just want to make sure we’re covered.”
“Of course, Miss Kat. I’ll take care of it on my way home,” he assures me.
Leo and I don’t talk a whole lot over dinner. My mind races and my thoughts are scattered all over the place. After we finish eating, he helps me clean up the kitchen, and then I tell him that I’m tired and ready for bed. Nodding, he follows me back to my bedroom and waits for me to brush my teeth and change into my pajamas. Once I climb up onto the high mattress, he tucks me in under the covers and kisses my forehead.
“Good night, Leo. Thank you for taking care of me for the past nine years,” I mumble sleepily.
“Yes ma’am, Miss Kat. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
And he disappears.
Tuesday morning I wake up extra early and turn on the local news immediately. Of course the meteorologist is on giving the five-day forecast — as if he knows what’s going to happen tomorrow, much less in five days. I wait impatiently for him to finish weather-guessing and then the several minutes of commercials before the real newscasters are back on. Luckily, they begin to revisit the day’s headlines and after touching on some national news, the first local story they cover about is the reveal of the X-rated photos of Mr. Daniel Saun
ders in what they call “more than compromising positions with someone who is obviously not his wife.” They briefly discuss the negative backlash in both the mayor’s and the governor’s office. They also state that neither the Saunders’ family, nor either political office, has issued a statement on the matter, and that they will have further coverage on the breaking story on the evening broadcast.
I pop out of bed as happy as can be. What a perfect way to start the day! A little part of me was scared that perhaps the story would be shoved under a rug or not get very much airtime, but I should’ve known better. People, especially those in a big city, love scandals; it makes for a great conversation topic with coworkers at the office or with friends over drinks at happy hour. I now know that no matter what happens with the story from this point on, I was successful in planting a seed of chaos.
Singing joyfully throughout the entire shower, when I get out, I quickly put my hair up in a bun and get dressed. I’m nearly thirty minutes earlier than normal as I walk through the lobby of my building to the parking garage. Sliding into the driver’s seat of the modest car I’ve purchased to drive on a daily basis, I pull out onto Central Park West and begin my morning route to work, anxious to get back home as soon as possible to follow the news.
Pulling up to the school almost an hour before class begins, I wonder what in the world I was thinking leaving the apartment so early. Hurriedly, I grab my bag, exit the car, and rush into the building. Once I’m settled into my classroom, I pull out my iPad and begin searching the local news sites. I’m so engrossed in reading one of the articles that I don’t even hear Lucca come into the room.
“Morning, Miss Foster,” he greets me gleefully as he sets a cup of coffee milk on my desk. “You’re here exceptionally early this morning.”
Quickly turning off the device, hoping that he didn’t see what I was looking at, I peer up at him with a cheerful smile. “Good morning to you, too, Mr. Ellis. I could say the same thing about you.”
He pulls up the extra chair I keep to the side of my desk and sits down. “Yes, I have a meeting with Principal Matthews here in just a little bit, so I figured I should probably get a cup of coffee or three in me before that happens,” he snickers.
Crinkling my nose with disgust at the name alone, I ask, “What about?”
“I can’t tell you; it’s top secret.” He brings his hand up to his mouth and acts like he’s zipping his lips shut.
“Ugh, I don’t trust that man at all. He gives me the creeps.”
Laughing, he leans forward a bit and taps me gently on the tip of my nose. “Not to worry, devil woman, I’ve got it under control. But you’re smart in being suspicious of him, I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him.”
The vision of Lucca attempting to pick up Principal Matthews makes me chuckle. “You couldn’t even lift him off of the floor!”
Covering his heart as if he’d been shot, he feigns injury. “You wound me with your words. My precious male ego may never recover from your wrath when you’re finished with me.”
“Something tells me that your ego has been pumped up enough over the years that little ol’ me could hardly put a dent into it,” I tease.
Shaking his head, he murmurs, “You have no idea what you could do to me.” Abruptly, he glances down at his watch and then stands up. “I’ve gotta go do this, but I was wondering if you wanted to come over tonight?” He asks in a low voice. Thankfully, he’s been very discreet about our budding relationship the last couple of days while at work. He understands and respects that I don’t want to be the topic of the teacher gossip mill. I just hope that we can continue to stay under the radar.
Even though I’m eager to hang out with him again, I was looking forward to staying home this evening to get some things done. I gaze up into his persuasive eyes and my decision is made for me. “What time do you want me there?” I reply with a smile.
“You can come straight from here, if you want.”
“Actually, I’d like to go home and change into something more comfortable, if that’s okay?”
Nodding, he begins to make his way out of the room. “Sounds good.” Just before leaving, he pauses and turns to look at me with a wicked grin. “Bring an overnight bag. I want to wake up tomorrow morning with you, Miss Foster.”
And before I can think of an excuse as to why I can’t, he disappears.
Throughout the day, I periodically check my iPad, continuing to follow the current local headlines. By the time I get off, I’m more than pleased with the way the day has gone, and now the anticipation of spending the night with Lucca is about to tip me over the excitement meter, if there was such a thing.
As soon as I get to my place, I rush in to take a shower, blow-dry my hair out straight, and change into a pair of jeans and a pink t-shirt. Throwing together a bag to take with me, I make sure to include pajamas, a change of underclothes, and an outfit for work tomorrow. Forty five minutes later, I’m heading back out the door on my way to Park Slope.
The trip to his house takes longer than normal due to the rush hour, but at a quarter past six, I’m standing outside, ringing the bell. His cousin, Stephen, opens the door to let me in.
“Hey, Trina. Come on in,” he welcomes me. “Lucca had to run to the store real quick; he forgot something he needed for dinner.”
“Hi, Stephen,” I say, as I walk by him and into the house. “How was your day?”
We both walk into the great room and he continues on into the kitchen. “It was busy to say the least. Can I get you something to drink — wine, beer, soda?”
I feel a bit awkward being alone with him; I’m not sure how to act quite honestly. Other than Lucca and just a couple of others, I prefer to not even engage in conversation with males unless I know I’m completely in control of the situation; however, I know that I need to work on this, especially if I’m going to be hanging out here more. Stephen isn’t going to hurt me. I know in my heart that Lucca would never allow that.
“Yes, a glass of wine would be great, thank you,” I reply politely. “What line of work are you in?”
After pouring us both a glass, he hands me one and then takes a seat at the kitchen table with an exhausted sigh. “I work in the news room of NY1. The mayor’s douchebag of a son-in-law decided to have an affair with some whore who documented the entire thing, and then sold the pictures to the press. I’ve spent all day following the story and news conferences.”
I gasp for air while having a mouth full of wine, thus ending up in a choking fit as the liquid traveled down my windpipe. Coincidentally, Lucca picks that moment to walk through the door. He drops the bags he’s carrying and rushes to where we are just as Stephen jumps up and comes over to help me.
“What’s going on?” Lucca questions his cousin while patting my back and holding me close to him. “What happened?”
“I don’t know, man. We were just talking and she started choking.”
Regaining my composure with watery eyes and a few last coughs, I’m finally able to speak again. “Sorry, I just swallowed down the wrong path. My lungs didn’t appreciate a drink of wine, I guess,” I try to make light of the situation. I’m praying that Stephen doesn’t revisit his day of work with Lucca. “I’m fine now.” Smiling at Lucca, I give him a quick peck on the check in hopes to wipe the worried look off of his face.
Once he’s certain I’m okay, he pulls me closer to him and kisses my hair. “I was afraid Stephen had gotten jealous already, and tried to kill you before I got home,” he says jokingly.
Stephen playfully punches him in the arm. “Shut up, jerk. If I was going to kill anyone, it would be you, so that I could keep her for myself.”
We all laugh at their banter while Lucca goes to pick up the groceries off of the floor. “I’m making Pork Milanese with squash and potatoes, if that’s okay with everyone?”
“Sounds delicious. Bran won’t be home tonight, so it’s just the three of us,” Stephen says as he walks towards the master bedroom. “I’m
gonna shower and change into something more comfortable — be out in a bit.”
With him out of the room, Lucca walks over to me and rests his hands on my hips, his eyes focused on mine. “I like coming home to you being here.”
“Oh, I’m sure you’ll get tired of me pretty soon,” I say, half-teasing.
Furrowing his brow in a scowl, he asks, “Why do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Assume we won’t last very long.” He stares at me so intently; I swear he’s trying to read my thoughts.
“First off, I don’t even know what we are,” I reply.
“What do you mean what we are? We’re Lucca and Trina — a couple that’s spending time together and learning more about each other. I don’t think we really need a label, but I thought I expressed my intentions at dinner on Friday.”
“But how can you be so sure? You don’t know anything about me. We’ve only been hanging out — you can’t even call it dating because we don’t go anywhere but here — for a week or so,” I argue.
Without saying another word, he picks me up, and instinctively, I wrap my lean legs around his waist. He strides across the room until my back is flat against the wall and I am sandwiched between him and the sheetrock. His expression is intense and stern, but I’m not fearful whatsoever.
“Since the day we met, I knew that I had to have you,” he says in a throaty growl, his face mere inches from mine. “And I don’t just mean sexually, even though I’m very much looking forward to that at some point in the future.” He presses his body a little more forcefully into mine as he says it. “But right now, I plan on learning everything there is to possibly know about you and spending every minute I can with you that you will allow. I’ve met many girls in my life, and even had serious relationships with a few of them, but I’ve never felt about them the way I feel when I’m with you.”
Resting his forehead against mine, he brings one of his hands up to stroke my cheek with his thumb. “That is the honest to God truth, Trina. In the brief time that we’ve spent together, you bring out something in me that I never knew existed.”
