by Amanda Lance
“What do you want, Kasper?”
“More than a rude greeting.”
He smiled and leaned back into his chair. Indeed, Kasper was sounding far more like himself. “What is that expression? Ah yes, the pot calling the kettle black.”
“I suppose I’m the pot in this scenario?”
“What do you want, Kasper? I am very busy, and believe it or not, I do have clients other than you.”
“Well, whatever you’re doing for them on the 18th of July can be cancelled because I require you to be Geneva, New York.”
There was some muffled swearing on the other side of the line. “And why would I want to be there?”
“I told you about the fundraiser gala, ouzgal! Don’t you pay attention to anything?”
“Of course I do.” Aasif laughed. “I just didn’t think you were being serious.”
“I was being intently serious. Deadly, dreadfully, serious.”
“Insanely serious?”
“Stop being smart and make your arrangements, invite your friends as well—” Aasif could almost see his eyes rolling. “The animal loving ones.”
“I thought that e-mail from Mrs. Levkin was some kind of a joke.”
“Certainly not. I’ve even managed to secure a location by myself, though I’ve left most of the other details to Emilia and the venue’s manager. It hardly needs to be said I have neither the sense nor the patience for it.”
Aasif sighed, making his distaste instantly known. He should have known that Kasper would take this endeavor too far. “I was all for you leaving the estate for a time, even donating to this cause—closure and all of those good things. Yet, this seems like much too much. Don’t you think you’re setting yourself up for more problems?”
“If Emilia Ward is a problem, then every man should be so troubled.” Kasper sighed and refocused. “Regardless, if she does not love me by the time I am through with this, then nothing else will matter.”
Aasif already had his lecture prepared. “You should not have to spend money for her to love you.”
“But I should have to suffer.” He sighed “And this is the best I can think of aside from living without her.”
“Fine.” He sighed. “I’ll humor you. But how, may I ask, do you even expect to go through with this adventure of yours if you can’t run simple errands by yourself?”
“Because,” he mocked. “I won’t be the only one in a mask.”
***
Once word got out that the fundraiser was a masquerade, the tickets for the gala sold quickly, far more quickly than Emilia would admit to anyone but Kasper. To get the general public more involved, however, Emilia suggested a two ticket giveaway and naturally that elicited even more appeal. She was genuinely impressed with how quickly she and Elaine agreed on the color scheme for the gala—prompting the design and sending of invitations within two days. And after fliers went around the campus and announcements began on WVBR FM, alums and local businessmen alike were falling over themselves to offer items for the silent auction.
Therefore, there was more work to be done than ever and Emilia had no trouble staying late and coming in early to answer endless e-mails and phone calls. In fact, she spent so much time during that first week managing the phones that when it began ring again one Tuesday morning, she picked it up without hesitation.
“Home at Last animal shelter, how may I help you?”
“Oh.” His voice was smooth and she shuddered at the prospect that lay just beyond it. “The possibilities of such a question.”
Emilia stifled her giggle by biting her bottom lip. “This had better be work related.”
“Always so skeptical to my motives, my little peach! Can I tear you away?”
“I’m busy.”
“You have been busy all week.”
“Thanks to you.”
“Would you rather me try to choose menu items?”
She smiled into the phone. It was easy to picture him choosing nothing but fruit and naan to eat, with the assumption that his favorite foods were the only ones worth of being consumed. “Good point.”
“So may I steal you away or not?”
Even over the noise, Emilia could hear her stomach growl. “That depends.”
“On?”
“If meal choices include samples.”
***
Not trusting herself at her own apartment again, and wanting to keep her word to Andrew about being a quieter neighbor, Emilia drove to The Statler Hotel instead of meeting Kasper at her place. She still wasn’t sure where exactly they were going. Kasper had refused to reveal the location over the phone, but assured her that he understood her time was of the utmost importance and with packages to sign for and exams to study for; she didn’t have time to argue. She only hoped that he respected her wishes and kept their interaction as professional as possible.
The concierge sent her up right away and she was glad for the lack of questions. Somehow, she had automatically assumed that with Kasper’s appearance came a mystery that everyone responded to the same way she did. When she realized that she might have been the only one who was as interested in Kasper as she was however, it only made her more fascinated in his behavior—why he really was in New York.
She tried to clear her head. What if he really was there to win her over, to get her back? How was she supposed to feel about that? Overjoyed? Thankful to be in his company again? Just the prospect that he expected her to be grateful made her anger rev up, and she was ready to jump down his throat if he gave her the opportunity. Keeping that in mind, she shifted her shoulders back and knocked on the door swiftly.
He was standing in front of her before she had the chance to put her hand back down. “What are you doing here?” He croaked.
“You had something to show me that couldn’t wait? We were going to discuss the menu…?” She smirked and looked him over. For someone who hadn’t expected her, he certainly looked prepared enough. Emilia didn’t want to confess how much she liked his three-piece suits and the way the waistcoat was always hemmed to make him look even taller and impossibly slimmer than he already was. She pretended to stare at her fingernails instead of the way the intricate pattern of his tie matched his eyes.
“I was referring to this location. I thought we agreed I was going to pick you up.”
Emilia smiled. “You agreed to that, I didn’t.”
“I-I suppose you should come in?”
She poked her head into the room. Of course she knew he wouldn’t have settled for anything less than a suite—yet it was difficult to take this particular suite seriously when everything was decorated in her school colors, when it vaguely reminded her of the student lounge. And while she only saw the inside of the sitting room, it was somehow easy to picture them in every inch of the suite. Suddenly, she could see them on the desk; picture them in the bed, the shower, the large sitting chair…
“Emilia?”
“No, no. I’d rather not.” She smiled awkwardly and tapped her feet against each other.
Kasper pulled at the collar of his shirt. “Come along, then.” He shut the door behind him and she stared at the number posted on the door.
Room 2121: she wanted to forget it, but didn’t think she could.
Emilia shook her head. “Hey! Wait up!”
Kasper smiled to himself. He was keeping her on her toes much better than expected—hopefully everything else would go just as well.
It was evident as they walked to the car that she no longer expected him to open the doors for her but he did it anyway, happy to perform the small gesture. Emilia, meanwhile, was glad now that she had worn a simple peasant top and a denim skirt that was long enough to be appropriate, but still attractive enough to wear for an evening out. Kasper seemed to agree, as she could feel his eyes on her even as he put the car into drive and she situated her seatbelt over herself. What if she had worn something more provocative and he took it the wrong way? While she
appreciated the fact that he obviously still found her attractive, she also wasn’t sure she could remember to keep herself in check.
“Where are we going, anyway?”
“It is a surprise,” he tried. “But I think you’ll like it.”
Emilia ran her hands against the leather seats. They had been cooled by the air conditioning, but still felt irrevocably hot to her. “Since when do you do surprises?”
She watched his smile in the reflection of the windshield. “Around the time I began giving my money to mangy dogs.”
“I’m just asking because I don’t want to be underdressed. We aren’t going somewhere—” she hesitated to use the word “—fancy, are we?”
“Hardly.” He chuckled. “Your choice of dress could never be wrong.” Kasper looked her over. “Unless you were wearing too much clothing. In that case—”
Emilia held out her hand and stared out the window. “You’d better stop right there.”
He continued to laugh, feeling more and more confident by the way her bare knees rubbed against each other while she squirmed in her seat.
“I was merely going to say that by wearing too many clothes, you would be doing not just myself a service, but all of mankind as well.”
“I—” She swallowed hard and looked away. “Don’t flirt with me,” she warned. “We work together now. It isn’t appropriate.”
He huffed and turned wide around the corner. “I cannot call you my peach, I cannot compliment you, is there anything I can do?”
“You can drive.”
Kasper smiled still, strangely encouraged by the anger in her voice. “Your wish is my command.”
They finally stopped at a no-name bar that was only visible from its neon signs and smokers standing round and about outside. Emilia was leery about leaving such a nice car in a not so nice neighborhood but Kasper didn’t hesitate; seemingly only concerned about keeping his head down and getting inside as soon as possible.
“A bar?” She wanted to laugh, but only smiled instead. “You took me to a bar?”
“I realize it is a bit obscene, however I think that you’ll find that you will like what is inside.”
“Alcohol?”
“Use your ears more and your mouth less, my foolish girl.” He pulled back on his collar as they rushed past a group of people at the front door. It was still early in the evening, but overworked students and their teachers alike were beginning to arrive in small groups or as couples—an indicator that the weekend had begun.
Kasper ignored the call from the hostess and navigated himself through the traffic to a small table at the back. He did it with such ease, Emilia wondered if he hadn’t been there before, and when one of the guys behind the bar ran off to the back, Emilia knew he had to have been.
Only Kasper had the ability to make people that skittish.
She could tell why he liked the place. Overall, it was low lit with mostly vintage looking battery operated lanterns and candles on the tables and piano. When she wondered why they weren’t genuine candles, the call of two men arguing over Cambodian poetry answered her question. In a small space with few windows and lots of liquor, she could see how easily one bar brawl could cause the entire place to go up in flames.
Kasper took the seat facing away from the door and she followed suit, sitting across from him. Right away the sight of an empty aquarium filled with books filled her field of vision.
“I told you you’d like this place.”
She smiled faintly. “I never said I wouldn’t.”
“Ah ha! Yet you assumed you wouldn’t.”
“I know you have good taste, Kasper.” She squirmed and tried to stare at something other than his intense eyes. “You know that, too…”
“Yes,” he said, looking her up and down while leaning back in his chair. “I know I do.”
She blushed and turned her gaze away from him as much as she could. To avoid the temptation of looking at him, she began to slowly tap her thumbs on the table in front of them. “What does this have to do with the fundraiser?”
Kasper opened his mouth to answer, only to be interrupted by one of the bartenders. The young man stared off at an invisible spot on the wall, feeling just as awkward; it seemed to Emilia, as she did. “Hello, my name is Kevin. I’ll be helping you guys out tonight.”
“A double scotch with ice. The lady will have a soda, preferably something with a lime taste.”
Emilia leaned over the table and scowled. Even then, however, he thought she was intoxicating. The artificial light in the animal shelter did her no justice, but the low lighting from the lanterns was generous. In fact, it all but forced him to stare at the contour between her shirt and shoulder, imagining how she would sound when he tried to take it off.
“You don’t get to order for me.”
He whispered back, “I don’t get to do that, either?”
“You never did.” She smiled.
“Can I have a Coke? And nachos,” she added excitedly. “Do you guys have nachos?”
The bartender’s nod was barely noticeable before he scatted away, mumbling something about their orders coming right up.
“What?” She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “You’re staring.”
“You don’t like Coca-Cola.”
“Maybe I’ve changed.” She thanked the bartender for her drink and sipped on the straw that bobbed in the glass. When the cold rush of sugar hit her teeth, she tried not to flinch but failed.
“Perhaps we both have.” He swallowed his entire glass in a single swig and turned it over on the table before signaling for another. She reached out for him and rested the end of her fingers against his arm.
“If you want to drive me home, you won’t do that.”
Kasper put down his arm and nodded sternly. If a lack of alcohol was a sacrifice he needed to make, he was more than willing.
“Th-the band begins shortly. They are a combination of classical and contemporary jazz—I think you will like it greatly.
Emilia giggled against her straw. “You keep saying that.”
“Yes, well, just trying to keep you informed.”
“You were thinking about music for the gala?”
“Naturally.”
She took another sip and stared away from a couple of frat boys who were eying her. “When I looked up this place online, I thought it said they had a speaker system—”
“They do, but no one wants to listen to the prerecorded music. Besides, these young people are always willing to work for next to nothing.”
“Taking advantage of the starving artist?”
“Me? Never. I’m merely offering them something to put on their resumes.”
Emilia only nodded. She knew that he was trying to be funny, but it was an excuse she could easily see him giving for that sort of behavior.
“Now may I ask you something?”
She nodded.
“The other day those wretched people referred to you as ‘Em.’ You don’t really let them reduce your lovely name to that, do you?”
“I haven’t put that much thought into it, to be honest.”
He stared at the flowers embroidered on her shirt. “I dislike it intensely.”
“Well, then, I do like it” She stabbed at a chunk of ice with her straw. “I think that’s what I’ll go by from this day forward.”
“Emilia,” he said in a pacifying voice. “Are you really so angry with me?”
“No…yes?” She played with the straw and tried to look absent-minded. “It’s weird; I didn’t think I would be. If you ever came to see me, I thought everything wrong with me would be better again, but now that you’re here, I don’t feel better, just—”
“Angry?”
“Yes.”
“Would it make a difference if I apologized again?”
She shook her head. “No, so please stop doing it. We might care about each other, but we’re too different to be toge
ther. Let’s leave it at that.”
“I will never leave it at that. And to refer to us as a ‘that’ is insulting to the greatest days of my life.”
“You’re going to be disappointed.”
“I’ve rarely gotten anything I’ve ever wanted in my life, Emilia Ward, but I intend to have you. Regardless of how long it takes, or how much it may hurt, I will get you back.”
Emilia opened her mouth but the words didn’t come. Instead, she stood up and excused herself, making up an explanation about the ladies’ room and running off there before he could rise. She nearly tripped over her own chair and bumped into several people before disappearing around the corner. The moment she was alone, safely in the restroom with no one else to see, she splashed cold water on her face and begged her shaking hands and knees to steady themselves. Why was he doing this to her? And what had inspired him to turn her world upside down again?
More importantly, what was she going to do about it?
***
She had been gone for much too long and though he considered going after her, he knew that someone like him inquiring about a young woman in the ladies’ facilities was improper even for him. The band, who called themselves Garfield Theory, were already set up and beginning to strum warm up notes. Luckily, the arrival of the band diverted the attention away from him and to the young men with multi-colored hair and jewelry in the face. And Kasper thought he looked strange? HA! Perhaps all he needed was to spend more time in the artist community!
Regardless of this mediocre relief however, he couldn’t help but feel that familiar foreboding come over him. What if his confession disturbed her so greatly that she just up and left altogether? Was she walking back to her apartment while he sat there like a fool?
Just as he stood up however, she returned, stopping short of the table when she saw him getting up. She waved awkwardly and relief ran through him. He moved aside so she could sit down.
They remained silent, Emilia looking at him more than the band and not even really listening. Kasper pretended to focus on the band like everyone else. In reality however, he was watching the faces in the room, the way they expressed themselves so openly. Did these children have any idea how lucky they were? Of how grateful they should be to have symmetrical faces and functioning features?
