In the Time of the Caveman

by Samantha Leal

  “I’m Jasmine. Jasmine Kiberd,” she said cheerily and stuck out her hand towards him. He just seemed like the kind of person who liked to shake hands. He apparently didn’t, though. He was looking at her again from behind his glasses, his book was still in his hands, not making a motion to accept the handshake at all. Instead he said, “I see,” and stood up suddenly.

  Jasmine couldn’t help but look surprised as she watched him bend down and bunch up the towel from the sand and then start walking away. He didn’t look back at her or exchange parting words. She remained sitting, with her mouth hanging slightly open as she watched him walking away from her. His loose blue trunks outlined the sinews on his thighs as he took each step.

  I see? I see! Who says that! Jasmine was screaming inside her head.

  Chapter 4

  “Where have you been?” Jasmine heard her mother yell at her just as she banged the front door shut.

  “I told you I was going to the beach.” Her mind was too occupied with Marvin and his ill manners to be sweating over appeasing her mother.

  “He’ll be here in an hour,” her mother said, appearing from a room within with the dusting cloth still in her hand. She had, thankfully, taken her jacket off and Jasmine could see sweat stains under her armpits on the dark blouse she was wearing.

  “Exactly why you need a shower,” she couldn’t help but smirk. She had never seen her poised mother so worked up before.

  “You need one as well, in fact,” she said and crossed her arms across her chest. Camilla was looking her daughter up and down with stern eyes. “Will you please wear something appropriate for the evening?” she stated rather than asked.

  “I’ll wear something clean. I want to stress again how this is not a business meeting,” Jasmine said as her mother brushed past her to wipe imaginary dust off the shelf behind Jasmine.

  “This is not a kindergarten, Jasmine. The appropriate thing would be to look professional,” she heard her mother add as she climbed the long spiral staircase to her makeshift room.

  The room that she had chosen for her stay in the house had been dusty, but Jasmine had managed to wipe it down and find new linen for the bed. Floral patterned upholstery covered the two armchairs, and a wide oval wooden mirror rested in the corner. Jasmine stood in front of it and realized she had some sand on her face.

  He must have thought I’m a silly girl. She couldn’t get Marvin out of her head. She turned on her heels and found her big bag on the floor. She rummaged around inside it and pulled out a pair of dark straight jeans and a thin, red silk blouse. “This will have to do,” she said aloud and thanked God that she’d packed her favorite pair of red pumps as well.

  •••

  The long shower Jasmine treated herself to seemed to have calmed her racing mind. She patted her curls dry with the old towel she found hanging in the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror. The jeans fit snugly around her waist, accentuating the curves of her hips and thighs. The soft material of her blouse stretched across her voluptuous breasts and she ran a muted rose colored lipstick over her pouting lips. The warm weather dried her hair much quicker than she had anticipated. The humidity still added volumes to its mass, but now that it was fresh and clean, her auburn curls looked soft and like a different shade of her blouse.

  “Jasmine, will you please come down?” Camilla’s voice boomed around the house, and she skipped over to the door, trying to slip into her shoes on her way out.

  “What is it?” she asked as her heels clicked against the wood of the staircase. She never failed to be surprised by how her mother always managed to look on-point. She was in one of her black skirt-suits again, with a white, high-collared blouse sticking out from the folds of her jacket. Her bob was neatly combed back, and not a strand of hair was astray. The fact that she was wearing her pearls indicated to Jasmine that she was clearly trying very hard to impress.

  “I just want you to empty out the bottle of Glenlivet into the crystal decanter in the drawing room,” she said, patting her hair down – not that it needed any more patting.

  “You carried Scotch with you?” Jasmine widened her eyes as she reached the bottom of the stairs.

  “Well, I would have liked to arrange for some hors d'oeuvres, too, but that of course would be impossible,” she replied casually.

  “Wow. You’re charging ahead with guns blazing aren’t you?” Jasmine giggled and walked over to the drawing room which now looked more than presentable. Most of the light bulbs were dysfunctional, but the few that still worked added a faded charm to the room.

  “Good job with the tidying up, Mom,” she said loudly as she found the unopened box of whiskey on top of the corner bar.

  “It’s the best I could do in half a day,” her mother replied from the hallway, just as Jasmine heard a loud rap on the front door.

  “Jasmine, he’s here. Be good,” Camilla hurriedly said, peeping into the drawing room as she began pouring the whiskey into the decanter that her mother had polished down earlier.

  “Calm down, Mom,” she managed to say, just as her mother disappeared.

  Jasmine remained standing by the bar as she heard the front door open and her mother’s nervous high pitched voice greeting someone.

  “I trust you’ve seen the house from the outside before,” Camilla’s loud voice could probably be heard all around the house. “Let’s have a quick chat before I take you on the tour,” Jasmine heard her add a nervous laugh to that and she rolled her eyes.

  She hadn’t heard the gentleman’s voice yet, but seconds later her mother entered the drawing room with her arm outstretched, directing her guest into the room.

  When she saw Marvin walk in, Jasmine’s heart stopped and she didn’t even try to not look surprised. Marvin was in tan slacks now, a white Polo t-shirt covered his torso, which she had seen bare only a few hours ago. His hair was combed back as before and his piercing blue eyes were lazily taking in the drawing room until they rested on Jasmine standing in the corner. He looked his age when he was clothed. In the faded light of the room he looked much older. His hair suddenly looked more grey, and there were lines on his face that she hadn’t noticed in the sun. He looked more tired too. Marvin didn’t seem to be as surprised as she was. Instead, his eyes betrayed a mocking glimmer, and he smirked.

  “Hello Jasmine,” were the first words he spoke in the house, and that voice was unmistakable. Jasmine would have recognized that tone anywhere.

  Chapter 5

  “You’ve met?” Jasmine’s mother broke the silence as she and Marvin stood staring at each other. That smirk on his face was devastating Jasmine, while all she could do was gape in surprise.

  “At the beach,” he explained and from the corner of her eye, Jasmine could see her mother nod nervously.

  “Ah, lovely! So no introductions necessary,” her mother said with a flourish and stretched her arm again, offering Marvin a seat on the couch. Marvin remained standing and finally dragged his eyes away from Jasmine and back to inspecting the room.

  “Jasmine, why don’t you pour us some Scotch and we can all sit down for a chat,” her mother urged again, her polite smile not leaving her face. Jasmine turned mechanically towards the bar and began pouring out two fingers of the whiskey into three recently polished glasses.

  “None for me, thank you,” Marvin said politely and took a few steps in the direction of the open window at the end of the room.

  Jasmine and her mother exchanged looks.

  “You’ll have to forgive us. The house has been locked up for years, as you know. We arrived only today and didn’t have much of an opportunity to clean up,” Camilla said with a nervous laugh, expecting Marvin to comment on what a good cleaning job had been done in such a short time. Marvin, again, said nothing, narrowing his eyes instead while inspecting one of the paintings hanging on the wall next to the window.

  “My father didn’t really have an eye for art,” her mother nervously laughed again and walked over to where Marvin was standi
ng. He silently turned to look at her and then slowly looked away. His face seemed expressionless. His lips closed tight while his arms were crossed behind his back. He looked more like an art critic than a potential buyer for the house. Jasmine was also growing increasingly embarrassed by her mother’s attempts to please him.

  “I’m sure Mr. Byrne is aware of the house’s qualities,” Jasmine said curtly; Camilla and Marvin both turned around to look at her. She hadn’t spoken a word until then. A look of fright entered her mother’s eyes while Marvin seemed to smile sadistically. Those blue eyes were focused on Jasmine again, and she held his gaze bravely.

  “Those qualities are long gone Ms. Kiberd,” Marvin finally said. Jasmine could see her mother flush a bright red as she stood beside him, barely able to meet his eye or come up with a response.

  “The house has not been lived in for several years,” Jasmine said, hoping that her voice did not betray how shaken she felt by his eyes on her.

  “Neither has anybody bothered to look after it,” Marvin replied immediately.

  “Our family faced difficulties which, unfortunately, took our attention away from looking after the house,” Jasmine said. She was clutching one of the glasses of whiskey in her right hand, and now she swirled the liquid around for lack of something to do with her hands.

  She was equally as surprised as her mother when Marvin suddenly laughed. It sounded cruel and almost inhuman when he did that.

  “I’m well aware of that,” he said and looked around the room again.

  “Mr. Byrne, we are certainly aware that the house requires some attention. But I’m sure you can see that it won’t require much,” Jasmine’s nervousness was now giving way to irritation. Marvin’s behavior was rude and she could see her mother panicking.

  “This house will never sell in this town. Especially in this condition. You must certainly be aware of that as well,” Marvin said and both her mother and Jasmine stood staring at him in silence. She almost expected her mother to faint and fall to the floor.

  “We were expecting an interested buyer Mr. Byrne. We didn’t know you were meeting with us to criticize the condition of our house,” Jasmine managed to say. She knew her eyes were wide and angry; her lips were quivering, and she couldn’t hide the shakiness from her voice any longer.

  Marvin shrugged his shoulders and threw her another smile.

  “Mr. Byrne,” Jasmine’s mother squeaked, after several minutes of silence. “What my daughter is trying to say is that we know that the house hasn’t been looked after, and we appreciate your interest in it,” her voice was meek and submissive, and all Jasmine wanted to do was show Marvin the door – and maybe push him out of it. She couldn’t remember the last time she had seen her mother look so utterly subdued.

  Marvin seemed to grunt and look around the room again.

  “Why don’t we show you the rest of the house and you can sleep on it?” Jasmine could see her mother visibly struggling with keeping a polite and straight face.

  “I think I’ve seen enough. I’m well acquainted with the layout of the house, thank you,” Marvin said and dug his hands into the pockets of his pants.

  “Oh yes! You mentioned you’d met my father,” she said, forcing joviality into her voice. Marvin didn’t respond to that, but instead just threw Jasmine another look and began walking out of the room.

  “Are you sure you won’t stay for a drink?” Camilla called after him, but he didn’t respond. Just like that evening on the beach, Marvin was walking away from the scene without a parting word.

  “Jasmine, what did we do wrong?” her mother wailed the second they heard the front door bang shut. She watched as her mother collapsed onto the couch with her face in her hands.

  “I don’t understand, Jasmine,” she was repeating, her voice muffled by her hands. Jasmine remained standing where she had stood throughout the entire episode. Without thinking, she gulped down all the whiskey from the glass in her hand.

  “I’m going over there,” Jasmine said, almost to herself.

  “What?” her mother raised her head to ask. Her eyes were puffy and her voice was screechy.

  “I’m going over to his house. He has no right,” Jasmine said and banged the glass down on the bar. Her nerves as rattled as the glass against the wood.

  “Are you crazy?” she heard her mother yell as she strode out of the house into the moonlit driveway of her grandfather’s house.

  Chapter 6

  It took her some time, but Jasmine found Marvin’s home eventually. During their drive in the morning, her mother hadn’t been able to stop talking about how the interested buyer was a billionaire with the biggest house in town. She now stood on the beach, a part that she was certain was private property, staring up at a massive colonial style home at least twice the size of her grandfather’s.

  It was dark now, and Jasmine was still waiting for her eyes to adjust to the low light.

  “How can I help you?” she heard Marvin’s voice in the dark and suddenly realized that he had been sitting in the patio all along. The thought that he knew and had seen her staring up at his house for several minutes, sent a shiver down her spine. For some reason it also made her angrier.

  “I need an explanation,” she finally managed to say. She remained standing, her pumps digging into the sand, while she crossed her arms and tilted her head up towards him. She knew doing this caused her breasts to be thrust out even further than normal, but she felt safer in that stance while approaching this man in the dark on the beach. He was several feet away from her, but she could see the glass of whiskey in his hands and his blue eyes were shimmering in the moonlight.

  “What kind of explanation do you need, Jasmine?” he asked and took a quiet sip from his glass. He sounded like a man scolding a child.

  “For your behavior,” Jasmine said and hoped he couldn’t see how nervous she had suddenly started to feel. Her fingers were unconsciously rubbing the smooth silk of her shirt in an effort to calm her nerves.

  “My behavior?”

  “Your bad manners, yes. You came into our house on the pretext of being an interested buyer and did nothing but insult our house and family and just left,” Jasmine replied and watched as Marvin stood up from his chair and walked over to the patio railing.

  “I don’t owe you an explanation,” he replied, placing one hand on the railing. The glass of whiskey remained in his other hand.

  “I don’t know where you get your arrogance from Mr. Byrne, but you were unnecessarily rude to us,” Jasmine had raised her voice now. Marvin climbed down the few steps it took him to reach the beach and now was standing much closer to Jasmine. She imagined she could feel the heat he had soaked up from the sun earlier radiating from his skin.

  “I’m sorry, did I hurt your feelings because I refused the drinks you were pouring?” he asked sarcastically, and even in the dark Jasmine could see him grinning. Her rage had risen to impossible heights now and all Jasmine wanted to do was break things.

  “You might be rich, but you have no manners Mr. Byrne!” she said through gritted teeth and turned on her heels to walk away from him, but he had lunged towards her and caught her hand.

  “Now, now, Ms. Kiberd. No need to sulk,” he said with a laugh and pulled her towards him. She was taken aback by his strength and the grip he had on her wrist. He had barely moved and the glass in his hand was still steady. Now that she was only a few inches from him, she tilted her head up to look at him. She could feel her heart start to speed up in her chest at the close proximity to this obviously virial man.

  “This is inappropriate. I wish you knew how to behave yourself,” Jasmine said, even though she didn’t want to say any of those things. Especially not since his eyes were focused on her face, staring at her lips and then flickering over to her eyes again.

  “I am behaving myself Jasmine,” Marvin said after a few seconds of silence. She could feel his hand tightening around her wrist still, and she instinctively licked her lips. Her body was ten
sed and tied up in knots and her thoughts were jumbled and she couldn’t think and without a second thought, Jasmine had leaned towards him, their lips grazing and their breaths falling on each other’s faces. She felt his hand relax and fall away from her wrist, and she immediately raised her hands and placed them on his shoulders.

  She had no time to judge her own actions because he bent his head further down, their lips unabashedly touching. All Jasmine had to do was lean in a little closer and they were kissing. His slim tight lips were exploring her large pouty ones. She could smell the woody masculine scent of him and it gave her a heady rush. The moment she felt his tongue frantically push apart her lips and find its way into her mouth, she clasped her hands on his shoulders and squeezed.

  She heard the glass of whiskey in his hand fall with a thud on the sand and immediately after, his hands had gripped her waist and he was lifting her up. Their lips didn’t part as he smoothly maneuvered her into position; her jean-clad legs fit perfectly on either side of his waist while her arms remained encircled around his neck.

  He suddenly pulled away from her and Jasmine felt a dull ache on her lips. She didn’t have to look at herself in the mirror to know that her lips were very swollen by now.

  “Forgive me for my bad behavior,” he said with that same devilish smirk. Jasmine wasn’t in the mood for jokes and she surprised herself by ignoring his words and lightly biting his lower lip. His hands were clasped tightly around her bottom, propping her up against his torso. She could feel the rising heat between their bodies as she pressed herself up against his chest.

  “Jasmine,” he said her name gruffly, while his mouth was muffled by her hair. She was about to pull away from him, but he instead tipped his body forward towards the sand, and for a second she thought he was throwing her off. Her back touched the soft, cool sand as he lay her down gently. She watched him as he bent over her, stretching his body over hers and kissed her again, this time more softly. She had clutched his t-shirt, unconsciously balling the fabric up in her hands. Marvin looked at her hands and accurately assumed that she wanted it to come off. In one swift motion he had pulled it off over his head and flung it away from them.