by Amanda Lance
“What’s that?”
Claudette gave Tut a pat on the head and threw herself over the sofa dramatically. “This is the dress I wore for all of two seconds to my mom’s wedding.”
Claudette unzipped the bag, revealing a single-sleeve black dress with a crystal brooch at the shoulder. Emilia looked at her questionably, but said nothing.
“I figured if you’re going to be wearing a used dress, you might as well know where it came from, right?”
Emilia ran her fingers along the crystal brooch. She tried to think of an occasion when she had the opportunity to wear a dress as pretty as that, but failed.
“I-I don’t know what to say. This is so nice of you.”
Claudette shrugged, maneuvering the dress from the dry-cleaner bag to hang it up against the wall. “Hey, can’t have one of our hostesses running around in rags, right?”
“You’re a good friend, Claudette.”
“Clearly.” Claudette rolled her eyes and sighed, situating herself on the floor next to Emilia and their stash of decorating supplies.
“So you saw this place? Is it as gorgeous as everyone says it is?”
“It is… and we are definitely going to need more of these things.” She shook a large plastic can filled with pink and purple gemstones and ran some of them over her hand. “There are at least twenty tables, and we want one for each.”
“Can’t we just do balloons?” Claudette did something between a whine and a huff. “It’s way cheaper.”
Emilia shrugged. “I know, but Kasper says they’re tacky. And I have to say, considering the audience, I kind of agree.”
“Kasper?” Now her interest was perked. “Who or what is a Kasper?”
Emilia froze. It had never occurred to her to keep the shelter’s benefactor a secret, but knowing Kasper the way she did, there was no question in her mind that Kasper wanted it to stay that way. As usual, her instinct to keep him safe and his privacy secure outweighed even the one to share her recent victory.
“Um—never mind.”
“No way!” she said with a new excitement in her voice. “You tell me right now.”
Emilia separated the small vases from the gemstones, the fake pearls from the feathers…
“You aren’t going to get out of this so easy. You should have seen your face just now! Can I at least assume it is a guy?”
She nodded and tried to cover her blush.
“Well, good for you, Em! And here I thought Tut was the only guy in your life.”
“Ha. Ha.”
“Seriously.” She jabbed Emilia with her elbow playfully until she gave in to laughing. “This is exciting! I feel more oblivious than usual. I had no idea you had a boyfriend! Is he coming to the gala?”
She poured the gemstones into the dollar-store vase. If they had water in them, they would look more like a fish tank than a centerpiece. “He isn’t my boyfriend, but yes, he is supposed to.”
Claudette practically squealed. “He can afford a ticket and a tux rental? I like him already. What does he do?”
“Uh, he’s a structural engineer and architect.”
Claudette did a double-take. “Wow, seriously? Does he have a brother?”
“You don’t know anything about him. He’s—different.” Suddenly, she found it funny how when she was defending Kasper and talking against him she said the same things—thinking on a similar thought pattern for both the positive and negatives. Because of his money and the way he looked, people were so quick to assume things about Kasper. But for all of her time with him, Emilia didn’t know much about him at all—his past was shadowed and his present all the more elusive. How could she love someone so completely who she didn’t even know, not really, anyway?
“I know he’s well off…” Claudette struggled to correct herself, not intending to sound as greedy as she did. “And he’s interesting enough to catch your eye.” She winked. “I’m just saying he probably comes from good stock.”
Emilia smiled to herself. What would Claudette think if the same man that she was interested in was the same one she so rudely made an idiot out of herself over just a couple of weeks ago? Would her interest still be as piqued or would she just think Emilia was crazy—after his money maybe, like Kasper had once accused her of?
“It’s more than that,” she admitted. “I care about him, he makes me laugh.”
“Okay.” She grinned. “So two out of three isn’t bad.”
“Two out of three?”
“Being good in bed would make him the trifecta, obviously.”
They giggled together, drowning out each other with dirty jokes and comparing the plots of bad romance novels the other had read. But it was Claudette’s raunchy and quirky humor that promoted her new idea, and once it was there, she was sure she wouldn’t be able to get rid of it until she saw it through.
While she did her best not to, Emilia thought of him most of the night as well as into the next day. Even her paper on the efficiencies of ambulatory services—which she had originally been excited about—no longer held her interest and she could barely hold her concentration from one moment to the next.
She tapped her highlighter on Tut’s head and listened to him groan.
“Oh come on.” She nudged him with the capped side. “What will it take to get you to do this paper for me? Extra treats? A trip to the pet store? Name your price.”
His response was a snore.
Emilia laughed and tried for the sixth time to read the sentence she had highlighted. Unfortunately, she had highlighted it so many times, that the textbook ink had started to blemish with the neon of the highlighter, creating a mess that she could barely make out even when she squinted.
The soft knock on the door saved her from her continuing struggle however, and she rushed to get there before Tut did, making it within seconds.
“Hi there.”
“Hey, hey.”
For someone who had been asleep one second ago, Tut was wide awake now, and Emilia had to shove him back with her foot so Andrew could safely get inside. And in the moment that he passed through the doorway, Emilia took in her neighbor’s ruffled appearance. Andrew’s normally well straightened hair was messed, his shirt buttoned incorrectly, and his glasses crooked, making it easy for Emilia to picture him having slept with them on. And though it was difficult to tell with his naturally dark complexion, she thought he looked a little pale.
“You okay? You look a little under the weather.”
He sighed and dropped his head on her kitchen table before holding out a disk in a plastic container.
“…that movie you asked about.”
“Oh thanks.” Emilia took it gladly and placed it on top of her laptop, unable to untangle herself from how sick Andrew looked. “You still look like crap, though.”
“Yep, a night out with the guys will do that to you.” With his head still down, he rubbed at his temples but Emilia barely heard him with his mouth on the table.
“Oh,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Is that all?” Laughing, she walked over to the cupboard and made as much noise as she could, taking out a bottle of aspirin and shaking them by his ear.
“You’re mean.” He ran his hands through his hair.
Emilia considered Kasper and the way he looked so forlorn when she left him last. She admired his efforts and how determined he sounded in his affections for her—it almost sounded as though he had changed. Yet, she knew herself to be equally resolute. And how much longer could he possibly stay while ignoring his work responsibilities? Surely, he would give up after the gala? Go back home and give himself a pat on the back for good effort? She knew that him wasting his time should have been the least of her worries, and yet it made her curious why he was trying at all. Was this some kind of renewed conquest for him? A mission he had given himself because he was bored with his work? And if it wasn’t, if he truly had suffered the way Mrs. Levkin described, then wasn’t she just making it wor
se? Was it possible she had already caused him more pain than he had her?
Though she knew Andrew was only kidding, not thinking outside of his hangover, his words stung—hit a nerve more deeply than he could have possibly realized. “I know.”
Emilia stared at the shining disk on her laptop. “If you’re in such rough shape that could have waited.”
“Nah. I consider this my big errand for the day.”
She smiled and leaned into her hand. “Was it at least worth it?”
Andrew shrugged, his face still stuck to the table. “Meh.”
“I went out the other night.”
“Really?” Andrew talked into the table still. Emilia wondered how it didn’t agitate his headache further. “You have time with the gala planning?”
“It was part of the gala planning.” She shrugged. “Sort of, anyway.”
“Sort of?”
“We were picking out a band.”
“You and that one girl I saw earlier?”
“No.” Emilia sighed and pulled herself up on the kitchen counter. She had already gotten the opinion of everyone else, she might as well have had Andrew’s, too.
“Remember the benefactor I told you about?”
Andrew scoffed. “Sort of hard to forget a story like that.”
“Right. Well, I knew—know him from Massachusetts. I used to work for him.”
Now Andrew appeared interested, rotating his head to the side to make eye contact with her. “Really? Huh, I guess it is a small world.”
“No” she sighed. “Not really.”
She watched his untrimmed eyebrows knit together while he tried to figure it out.
“Okay, now you’re going to have to elaborate.”
Emilia huffed before giving him the most basic explanation of her and Kasper’s situation. Knowing the propensity for gossip in small buildings however, she kept the details sparse and Kasper’s actual name out of it. As she expected, Andrew had something to say about it.
“So what—he like, came here to win you back?”
Emilia shrugged. “That’s what he says, but I don’t know.”
“Well…” Sighing, Andrew pulled his head up to rest his head in his hand. “If it’s worth anything, I think it’s good you let go when you did.”
“You do?”
“Yeah, and I’m glad you told me about him. If you go missing or something, I’ll know who to tell the cops about.”
She rolled her eyes. “Stop it.”
“I’m serious. Everything you’re saying is like the beginning of an Unsolved Mysteries episode.”
“He was never abusive,” she said, suddenly feeling defensive. Andrew was a nice enough guy, and smart by all accounts. Yet he was being judgmental, and she disliked it intensely.
“Sounds like he was getting there.”
“You don’t understand the situation.”
“That sounds like Spousal Abuse 101.”
“Like I said,” she sighed. “You don’t know him.”
“Maybe.” He smiled and nodded to the dress on the wall. “Are you dressing up for him, too?”
She followed his line of sight and rolled her eyes. “That’s for the gala. You are going to come, right?”
“I don’t think you really want me there, Em. It’s not like I can donate anything.”
“Oh, I want you, Andrew…” Emilia said in her best sultry voice. And when she saw the expression it inspired on his face, she laughed harder than she had all day.
“Seriously though, most of the people coming are over thirty, so—”
“You need a few young bodies in the crowd?”
“See?” She laughed and waved her hands. “You do understand!”
“Yeah, yeah.” He waved her away and stood up, seeming to Emilia to sway on his feet. “I’ll be there if I can, but right now I need to go and sleep this off.”
Emilia laughed the entire time she watched him stagger to the door and out into the hallway.
Just maybe, everything would work out all right after all.
***
With her mind made up and empowered by her new sexual persona, Emilia left early that Saturday, showering after study group and putting on something suggestive but practical at the same time. And although she never knew what to do with her hair, she did make the effort to curl the ends with her yard sale curling iron. Still, she wished there was something more glamorous she could do for herself—some jewelry or makeup to highlight features she did not have. As quickly as the desire entered her however, she dismissed it. She was an attractive girl and she needed to appreciate that. Once she did, she was satisfied with her overall appearance and felt more assured by what she was about to do.
Emilia regretted humiliating him the way she had when he first arrived. It was an ineffective way of getting back at him that had been inhuman and cruel. By lowering herself down to the level of people Kasper despised the most, she had not done either of them any favors—punishing not just him, but herself as well. Still, after Mrs. Levkin’s brief words of wisdom, Emilia realized that while she was not above pettiness, she could at least try to teach him a lesson he would remember.
***
It was far more difficult to work away from the manor than he originally suspected. Still, this time away had, at least, forced him to work with the laptop—all but thrusting him into the times. If Aasif had been there, or perhaps even Mrs. Levkin, they might have congratulated him on his open-mindedness—his willingness to work with new devices, or rather his acceptance of the necessity of it. However, even as Kasper attempted to work with the engineering software, his mind wandered back to his little peach and their tryst just two days prior.
She had been so open, so forthcoming with her affection, he could not help but think he had made a mistake in rejecting her proposal. Maybe he should have done all the things to her he wanted right then and there in the backseat of his car. Americans were prone to that sort of behavior, right? Why should he be denied that same sexual deviance, that same decadence?
No, no, he wanted their next time together to be special—proper, if there was such a thing for a girl like Emilia Ward. He desperately desired, wanted—no, needed her to be happy again, comfortable and secure in his presence. And as inexperienced as he was, he did know that taking her right then and there would dramatically change things, introduce an element of their rejuvenating relationship that he could not control. He could not risk having her believe, even for an instant, that all he wanted was her body. And if that required postponing her touch for a little while longer, he was willing to make that sacrifice.
He continued to work on the schematics of the Rosenberg house as much as his brain would allow—shoving her from the forefront of his mind as much as possible and being unsuccessful. Closing his eyes, he sighed and stood up to the sound of floor under foot. Were those footsteps he heard outside his door?
With reluctance, Kasper made his way to the other end of the sitting room. Didn’t those noisy housekeepers and concierges know by now how he hated to be bothered? He nearly laughed; perhaps he would give them a good scare to keep them away. He smiled as the idea became clear in his head—yes, that would do nicely. Like a boogeyman coming out from under the bed to frighten a child, he would make them jump out of their skin. And perhaps, he reasoned, the bit of entertainment would make him temporarily think on something other than Emilia Ward.
Preparing his throat for a monster-like roar, Kasper had just removed the fastener of his wig and begun working on his artificial ear when he looked out the peephole.
Instead of a busybody hotel employee however, there was just a ripe little peach.
Even before she knocked, he could see the clenched waist of her top, how it flattered her in all the right places and her skirt was entirely too short—though that was not to say he didn’t enjoy the sight…Yet when he witnessed her curled up hair and long legs through the peephole, the thoughts that passed over h
im were those of a deviant, and he knew that anyone with a similar anatomy to his own would be thinking likewise.
“Emilia.” He opened the door at the same moment she attempted to knock. “W-what are you doing here?”
“Hi there.” She strode right past him, her crumbling flip-flops making a terrible clacking noise behind her. “Nice to see you, too.”
Kasper quickly shut the door behind her and hurried to lock it. If anyone with half the mind of himself were running around, he would have to take every precaution to keep her concealed.
“It is—” He coughed into his hand and lamely tried not to stare. “Exceptionally nice to see you.” He shook his head and tried to clear his mind of the thoughts that plagued him, which was easy, considering how anger was his second go-to emotion when it came to Emilia. “Did we have some kind of engagement I was unaware of?”
She smiled and seated herself in the same chair he had just retrieved himself from and though he told them not to, his eyes were instantly drawn to the extra skin she revealed when her skirt rode up.
“Nothing planned,” she admitted.
He coughed and once again tried to regain control of his faculties. If he didn’t get a hold of himself, he might end up doing something foolish like he had in the car. So, he focused instead on how much she infuriated him.
“Then what in the world are you doing here dressed like some trollop in heat? Any man half out of his mind would—”
He had prepared himself for a rampage, yet when he watched her rise to standing, his tongue swelled as if he were allergic to himself, preventing him from forming even the most basic words. Stuttering like an idiot, he watched while her hips swayed slightly and she came close. Before he could form a coherent thought, she gave him her lips again.
She kissed him gently, lightly, making it all that more different from their moment in the car together while remaining similar. Like a frightened child, he found himself unable to move, both fascinated and terrified of her curious new behavior.
