Deena shifted, paused.
“When I returned from MIT my brother was a drug dealer with two years left to live and my sister—my sister was already adept at giving out sexual favors.”
The words didn’t shock him the way she thought they would. Instead, he nodded, as if this were precisely what he suspected. “And your parents? What of them?”
“My father’s dead and my mother’s in prison.”
“Am I to presume those situations are related?”
Deena nodded, suddenly feeling tired.
“And…you blame her? For the fate of your brother and sister?”
Deena sighed. “I blame her. I blame me. I don’t know.”
“It is—the burden of an oldest child to accept responsibility for all things. I too am guilty of this.” He paused. “Have you ever—inquired as to her motivations for murder?”
“No.” Deena lowered her gaze. “No.”
“I see.”
She looked up suddenly. “Plenty of people have made a success of their lives without having a mother. I’ll do the same.”
“I suspect that you will.”
Their eyes met and he looked sincere. Deena smiled.
Daichi swallowed the last of his tea and began to stack papers. He placed them in his briefcase.
“Are we done so soon?”
“Yes. Perhaps a stroll might do us some good.”
Deena looked up and spotted Kenji, the lone straggler from that morning’s volleyball game, sitting on the beach, watching waves.
“Maybe Kenji could use some company,” she said softly.
Daichi glanced at the boy, and, for a second, a look of uncertainty crossed his face.
“On second thought, I believe there’s some unfinished business that requires my attention.”
Deena hesitated.
“I see.” She watched him turn to leave. “You know Daichi,” she said.
He turned. “Yes?”
She had no idea what to say. She glanced over at Kenji and couldn’t help but feel that, in her silence, she was betraying him.
“You have to confront it,” she said. Instantly, she wanted the words back.
“What?”
She looked at Kenji again. “The thing that consumes you. I think you—I think we have to confront it.”
He stared at her, then offered a short nod. “Perhaps,” he said softly. “Perhaps.”
Daichi headed for the door again, stopped, and then turned to face her. “You should know that I haven’t been completely honest about my requiring your presence here, at this time.”
Deena froze.
“Claudia Oppenheimer has a home about an hour north of here in Beverly Hills. She’s considering coming on board as the interior decorator for Skylife. But she would like to meet you first. On Thursday.”
He disappeared indoors.
JOHN AND TAK stood on the terrace, their eyes on Deena as they spoke. Hours after their volleyball game, she lay poolside, a book in her hand, and a red two-piece on her body. The fit was like wet latex on curves.
John wondered how his brother could ever miss the signals between Tak and Deena. The gazes and lingering smiles, the innuendo and “accidental” touching. Just the day before Tak inadvertently called her ‘muffin’ or ‘cinnamon’ or some other kind of digestible nonsense. It was enough to nauseate a man.
“So, why didn’t you bring Allison?” Tak asked.
John glanced at him. “You kidding me? Allison and Daichi? I want no part of that.”
“It’s inevitable though.”
“Yeah. This from the guy who was just introduced to his girlfriend for the last three years.”
Tak laughed. “Don’t remind me.”
“Of course I will. I’ll remind you every time I’m feeling self-righteous.” John paused at the sight of the glass doors sliding open and Mike stepping out of the house.
“John, I swear to God—”
“Be cool. Besides, you don’t believe in God, remember?”
Tak shot him a warning look as Michael joined them.
“Admiring the view, boys?” He nodded towards Deena, who shifted in her lounge chair and adjusted the top on her bikini.
John sighed. “We’re just…talking, Mike. That’s all.”
“Well, me too, fellas.”
Mike looked from John to Tak in exaggerated innocence. It had always been that way with him, Mike with this perpetual need to prove he was one of the guys. Gawking at a girl when a simple glance would do, or harping on things other guys barely mentioned: watching a game, drinking a brew, or a prime piece of ass he saw the week before. And always, all of it rang false.
“Let’s talk about the view here. I mean, that rack is phenomenal.”
Tak shot John a single, lethal look.
“How about taking the edge off that enthusiasm, huh?” John said.
Mike shook his head. “You’re spoken for, John. But me and Tak, we’re free to roam.”
The men fell silent, watching as Deena stood, set aside her book and shades, and dove into the pool. She swam a few laps under the sun, a web of chocolate hair plastered to her neck and shoulders and when she climbed out, water ran down her body in rivulets. The shine from her swimsuit complemented the curves of her breasts and backside.
“Now that’s a woman,” Mike said.
“Oh fuck this.” Tak snatched and dragged him across the terrace before hurdling him under the shade of a palm tree. “Get a fucking clue, Mike. Get a fucking clue.”
His nostrils flared. His teeth clenched. His fist wanted Mike’s mouth so bad. He took a deep breath and tried again.
“Listen. I need you to cool it. This infatuation you have with my—with Deena, I need you to stop it.”
“What? Why?”
“Because she’s with me, Mike. She-is-with-me.”
“Well, she certainly doesn’t appear to be with anyone.”
Tak hesitated, the words biting like hell.
“Just trust me, Mike. This isn’t going where you think it is.”
Michael shrugged free of his grip.
“You like her too, Tak? Fine. So be it. But you’re not going to tell me to back off.”
Mike began to pace.
“Our whole lives I’ve sat back and watched you and John take girl after girl that I’ve wanted. You’re like the golden boys of the family. Everyone’s favorite, anything you want, it’s yours. Well, no more! I’m putting up a fight.”
“Mike, you don’t know what you’re saying. Just listen to me for a minute.”
“I’m tired of listening. You want her? Then do something about it. But you’re not going to intimidate me. No matter how strong you are.”
He started for the house, paused, and then turned. “We can both pursue her, Tak, and the better man will win.”
Michael turned and strode off, head high, leaving Tak to stare behind him in disbelief.
“YOU DIDN’T WANT to help me because your brother’s interested in her!”
Michael stormed into Kenji’s room.
“What?” Kenji sat up. He was getting so confused. He just wanted to go back to Miami, where keeping this farce up was easy.
“Your brother tells me that he’s interested in her, too. And that’s fine. I know where your allegiances are now.” Michael paused. “Please promise me you won’t help him. He doesn’t need help.”
“Help with what?” Kenji said.
“With her. Help pursuing her. A guy like Tak doesn’t need help.”
Kenji frowned. “I think you should sit down and talk to Tak about all this. He can help you understand. And keep me out of it. This is between you guys.”
Mike paused. “Is he in his room?”
Kenji breathed a sigh of relief. “Yeah. He should be.”
Michael padded down the dark hall towards Tak’s room. As he walked, he thought about what he would say. He would reason with him. Make Tak see that there were plenty of girls that he could have, plenty that he had had
. Why not leave this one to Mike? For Tak, it was all the same anyway.
Mike raised a hand to knock on the door and froze mid-motion.
The sounds were muted, but distinct. He’d know them anywhere. He had a monstrous pay-per-view bill that could attest to his intimate knowledge of those sounds. He cracked the door slightly, praying that it didn’t squeak. It didn’t and he peeked in. It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, but when they did, the heavens blessed him. The faint spring of coils, the moaning, and then two bodies coming into focus. He could see them, and it was incredible.
She was beautiful, even from that side view—especially from that side view. Her hair curled like a waterfall and her breasts swayed as though they were heavy. Mike was certain they were heavy. Tak’s hands were at her waist and he was guiding her, balancing her, heaving the full weight of her atop him. And she was begging for him. God, she was begging for him.
Tak and Deena. Tak and Deena. Mike bit on his fist, struggling to understand what this meant. But he could hardly think clearly. Not with her before him, and naked.
But what did it all mean? They’d met days ago, and yet Tak, ever the ladies’ man, was here making love to her.
Maybe she was one of those new age girls, free and in tune with her body, who sought sexual gratification constantly and made a practice of exploring their sexuality. He wondered if she’d been with a woman, or if she’d had multiple partners at once.
Mike looked down at his erection, then back and forth down the hall. Much as he wanted to, he dared not nurse it. There were about half a dozen things wrong with this situation, and him doing something about his arousal would add a dozen more. He turned his attention back to them.
He had to rethink his approach to her. And he should’ve known better. She was an intelligent woman, and beautiful, painfully beautiful. What made him think that she would want what every other woman wanted, when she was clearly like no other woman? A woman as brilliant as this must have boundless desires and an open and progressive attitude. The thought excited him. He’d approached her time and again, appealing to her intellect, to her interests. But his cousin had shown him the way. He would appeal to her appetite.
CLAUDIA OPPENHEIMER WAS a tall and svelte German woman with platinum blonde hair and a body like an exclamation point. The fur about her neck had been brushed to a gloss and worn in spite of the warmth. Oppenheimer sat across from Daichi, who wore an oxford with the sleeves rolled up, and Deena, whose short-sleeved blouse was probably the most appropriate for the weather.
Oppenheimer was taller than both of them and looked down a beak of a nose as she spoke. The conversation they were having was completely irrelevant—what Deena thought of men who played polo or women who gorged on strawberries. When she confessed that she had no idea such women existed, Oppenheimer laughed as though Deena had a knack for comedy. Daichi sat through it all, pain-faced and quietly obliging, leaving Deena to do most of the talking.
In the end, Oppenheimer agreed to come on board. Deena’s aura was pleasing and her palate sensible, and with that, they could form a formidable team, she said. Deena and Daichi exchanged a look of curiosity, a look of “what-the-fuck,” as Tak was fond of saying, before smothering a laugh they would later enjoy.
That afternoon Tak, John and Kenji were out back tossing a Frisbee on the beach as Deena thumbed through a book on the art and architecture of Ancient Egypt on the terrace. Intermittently she looked up from her book to watch Tak, shirtless and hard-bodied, glistening with sweat and ocean water as he moved.
“Deena,” Michael said, appearing at the back door. “Just the person I was looking for. Mind if I join you?’
He took a seat on the swing without waiting for her answer.
Mike reached over and lifted her book for a peek. “Ancient Egypt, huh? That mind of yours doesn’t rest. Not even on vacation.”
Deena met Michael’s gaze. “I’m not on vacation.”
He nodded. “I’m sorry, I forgot.” He took a deep breath. “Deena, I’ve something to tell you. I—I think you’re breathtaking.”
She lowered her book with a sigh. “Michael, I’m not in the market for a boyfriend.”
He nodded. “No, no. I understand.”
He leaned forward and whispered in her ear.
“I know what it is that you want. And I want to give it to you.”
“Give it to me?” Deena echoed. She leaned back to place a buffer between them.
“Yes. I know what you need, and I’m man enough to give it to you. You want to be free. You want sexual freedom. And I can give that to you. I’d give you anything.”
“I want what?”
“Exploration. And I don’t mind. I should be honest with you. The moment I saw you, I was breathless. I’d do anything to be with you. I’d—”
“Mike, wait. There’s something you’re not understanding.”
“No, I understand. And I’m okay with it. You might not think it, but I can please you. Just give me a chance.”
Deena stood, her book clattering to the floor. “I don’t know what you’re talking about but I want you to stop talking about it.”
“Just think about it,” Michael said, kneeling to scoop up the book. He paused to dust it off. “I know your type, and I know that in certain circles, your lifestyle isn’t acceptable.”
“My lifestyle?”
“Yeah. I mean, I don’t use words like ‘slut’ or ‘whore’. They’re judgmental and sexist. But we’re missing the point. I won’t be cumbersome. We could start with a one night stand if you want—”
“A what? Oh my God! Get away from me!”
Deena pinwheeled into the porch railing, upturning a glass of lemonade in her descent.
Michael’s gaze narrowed in confusion.
A few yards away, the Frisbee glided to the ground as Tak stood, watching Deena fall. He took in her cowering posture, backed into the porch railing, and tore across the hot sand to reach them.
“What the hell’s going on?”
Deena’s eyes watered. “He called me a slut!”
“He what?” Tak turned on Mike.
Mike sighed. “That’s not what I said. All I said was that girls like her tend to prefer sexual freedom.”
Tak took a step closer. “Run that by me one more time.”
“I said that girls like her prefer sexual—”
Spittle flew with the insertion of fist in face. With a yelp, Mike toppled, blood spewing. He staggered to the ground as if dizzy, a hand to his face as he shrieked.
“Fuck!” Tak said.
With a grimace, he shook his hand—a hand streaked with blood.
“Fuck!”
His head dropped as he gripped his wrist, eyes squeezed shut.
Behind Tak, John and Kenji tore across the beach. When they got to there, John placed a hand at Tak’s chest to hold him in check.
“Feel better?” John said quietly.
“You better fucking believe it.”
John grinned. “Thought so.”
From his cowering position, Mike began to yell.
“You hit me! Why the hell did you hit me?”
Tak took a step, only to have John push him back.
“Cause you don’t listen, Mike! She’s my girl. Mine. And I warned you.”
Mike sat up with a whimper, a hand at his nose. Blood coursed between his fingers.
“Shit,” John said. He turned on his brother. “Why the hell couldn’t you just back off?” He went over to him and offered a hand. Mike slapped it away.
“You’re taking his side? I’m your brother! Your goddamned brother!”
“You’re an idiot is what you are.” John turned to Deena. “Do you see what happened? Didn’t I tell you that this would happen?”
Deena’s eyes widened. “You’re blaming me?”
“Shit yeah, I’m blaming you. The only reason it didn’t happen sooner is because me and Kenji have been running interference all over the goddamned place.”
“I was supposed to know Tak would break his hand on Mike’s face?”
“Yeah. I did.”
John turned to Tak with a look of disgust. “Now what? You probably broke his fucking nose—and by the looks of you, your hand too.”
Tak winced. “I think you might be right.”
John brought palms together before his lips. “Okay. Just—give me a minute to think.”
“Think? Goddamnit, do something. He just—just punched me in the face!”
“Well, it’s not like you didn’t deserve it!” John said. “You see, Tak. This is why I told you to just tell him. You know how he is. He never quits.”
“I’m sitting right here,” Mike said, his hand slick from the blood.
“What are we going to do? We can’t just take them in the house like this,” Kenji said.
“I know, I know,” John looked at Tak, who clutched his wrist in an effort to steady the afflicted hand. “Are you alright?”
Tak shook his head. “The pain’s killing me. And my hand’s swelling up.”
“Never mind me, who’s bleeding to death on the floor,” Mike said.
John sighed. “You should’ve left her alone. Daichi told you to leave her alone. Tak told you to leave her alone. She turned you down every chance she got. I don’t know, Mike, maybe this is what you needed.”
John pulled his brother up and wrapped his arm around his shoulder.
“There something wrong with your legs?” he asked, wondering why it was so difficult to steady his older brother.
“I’m dizzy. I need to lie down.”
John sighed. “Shit. You guys need a doctor.”
Tak shook his head. “I can’t go to a doctor. If my dad finds out—”
“We’ll just have to make up something then.”
Mike balked. “And what if I don’t want to go along with your lies?”
Tak took a step forward. “Then maybe I can give you a little encouragement.”
Mike looked from his cousin Kenji, to his brother, each with gazes that weren’t all that sympathetic. He sighed.
“Fine. What’s the story?”
Crimson Footprints Page 23
