by J. C. Reed
“Did he or did he not make a pass at you? You haven’t answered my question.” Her eyes ripped a hole in my pretense.
I cringed. “Kind of.”
“Good. He’s playing you, and from the way you look, you’re probably fed up with it and want him to make a move while your panties are still hot. I completely get you.” She smiled mysteriously. “We’ve got to devise a battle plan if we’re to beat him at his own game.”
“Panties—what?” I shook my head. “Never mind.”
Even though we had been best friends for ages, half the time I had no idea what Jude was talking about. Now was one of those times.
“So, let’s get to strategizing,” Jude said, ignoring me.
“He’s my employee, not my poker adversary.”
“He’d better not be, because with me on your side, he’ll lose big time,” Jude said. “Now tell me everything.”
Still clueless as to what she was talking about, I related a quick recap of my meeting with Chase, leaving out all the double-entendres and the brooding looks and, most importantly¸ the touching, and his parting words.
“He didn’t invite you in?” Jude asked incredulously, her brows drawn at me like I was lying to her.
“No,” I said. “And I’m glad he didn’t, because it would have been embarrassing, and, let’s face it, I’m already embarrassing the crap out of myself by employing him to play my lover.”
“Seems like he thinks you’re relationship material.”
Whoa, where did that one come from?
“What?” I laughed nervously. “Why would you come to such a conclusion?”
“It’s pretty simple,” Jude said in her teacher voice—the one she always used when she was in her element, aka talking about dating, sex, guys, or a combination of either of those. “Guys invite you in when they think you’re a quick and easy lay or when you’re in the friend zone. Either you’ve given him the impression you’re one of those two, or he actually likes you and doesn’t want to add you to the ‘meaningless sex’ pile because he believes more could develop between you. Given that he knows nothing about you, meaning you could be the biggest slut or the greatest saint on earth, I’d go with the second option. He thinks you’re not ‘meaningless sex’ material. Does that make sense?”
No, it didn’t. Not one bit.
“Your theory’s faulty, because he’s not a relationship kind of guy,” I pointed out. “He didn’t invite me in because he wants this job. We keep our communication limited to a strictly professional level.”
Only, we hadn’t. Some of his gestures had been too intimate, while his words had made me sense a deeper layer to them.
“If you think so.” Jude smirked, which she always did when she didn’t agree with me. “But I’m telling you, you’re wrong. If he has enough money to buy himself the fast little number he’s driving and a shack outside the city, surrounded by beautiful nature and hundreds of acres of land, he doesn’t need your shitty-paying job, no offense.”
“None taken,” I mumbled. I hadn’t seen it that way before, but she was right. Chase could afford an expensive car and an apartment in Los Angeles and a weekend house outside the city? It wasn’t even rented. He had said he bought it as an investment.
Still, I wanted to tell her that her suggestion was silly, but then I noticed how quiet she had become. Suddenly, she jumped up and in three strides she reached the window, her back turned to me as she pulled the curtains aside and peered out onto the dark street.
“Switch off the lights,” she commanded.
“What’s—” I began, but she cut me off.
“Do it, Laurie.”
I switched off the lights, bathing the room in complete darkness. A sense of discomfort suddenly gripped hold of me as I inched to the window, trying to peer over Jude’s shoulder. Unfortunately, she was a few inches taller than I was and blocked my view of the street below.
“What’s going on?” I whispered.
Jude didn’t reply, but her rigid back and worried face showed her tension.
“Jude,” I prompted. My voice betrayed a sharp edge.
“I think I saw someone loitering outside,” Jude finally replied, her gaze still glued to the window, searching through the moonless night. It wasn’t her words that worried me; it was her tone. That and the fact that we lived on the first floor. It would have been all too easy to break into the apartment through one of the windows.
“What do you mean by ‘loitering’?” I whispered, and then tugged at her sleeve. “Let me see.”
As she stepped aside, I scanned the street below. A streetlamp cast ominous shadows on the bushes on the other side of the road, but apart from a few parked cars, I saw nothing. Still, a shudder ran down my spine.
Streetlamps, with their dim light and flickering bulbs, had often scared me as a child. I used to spend hours long past my bedtime staring at the one in our driveway, right below my bedroom window—where I had watched all the comings and goings, and my fair share of incidents no child should ever see.
To this day, streetlamps scared me because of the way the darkness around them seemed to swallow the light, giving refuge to lurking shadows. It was as if streetlamps were not only attracting and protecting bad people; they also seemed to reveal the dark side of humanity, the one that stayed hidden behind a smile during the day.
Even the purest of hearts hides darkness in it, be it a single, silent drop or a raging hurricane. The heart might not know it until darkness descends, but by then it is lost forever in an ocean of shadows.
I had learned that lesson the hard way.
Jude closed the curtains and switched on the lights. As my eyes slowly adjusted to the sudden brightness, I blinked several times.
“What did you see?” I asked, even though my conscious mind kept telling me there had been nothing out there. Probably just a trick of the light.
“Just—” Jude shook her head and sat down on the sofa, but her shoulders remained tense. “I thought I saw something stirring in the bushes.”
“Probably the wind.”
“Yeah.” She didn’t sound convinced. There was a short pause. She wanted to believe—I could see it written all over her face—but something kept her back. Maybe intuition. Maybe an overactive imagination, the consequence of a hard day and too much stress.
“Something flickered,” Jude added.
“Like a light bulb?”
“No. Something like a flash, like that of a keychain or something. I thought someone was standing behind a bush, searching the ground or something.” She let out a shaky breath. “Just weird.”
It was.
I frowned as my mind flicked through various explanations. “Maybe a cigarette lighter, or someone opened a window and the streetlamp reflected in it.” It wouldn’t have been the first time, though it usually happened in the stifling summer heat, when the relentless sun stood high in the sky, its light unobstructed by clouds.
“Probably.” She still didn’t sound convinced, but she was ready to drop it. She got up and pulled me with her to the kitchen. “It doesn’t matter anyway. What matters is that you had your first official date today, and your fiancé is gorgeous.” She drew the word out in a singsong, making me cringe. “A hot fiancé. Come on, we have to celebrate.”
“He’s not my fiancé, Jude,” I said for the umpteenth time, only to be brushed off with a wave of her hand.
“Semantics, Laurie. Semantics. You know how I feel about your quibbling over them.”
I did.
Whenever I said something she didn’t agree with, it was always open to her interpretation.
She retrieved a wine bottle from the upper shelf and poured it into two glasses, then handed me one. Her eyes twinkled as she raised her glass.
“To you for having met your gorgeous fiancé. And to me for being the perfect matchmaker ever,” she said. “And here’s to me again because I’m awesome.”
I narrowed my eyes at her as she took a sip and raised her hand to
stop me before I had a chance to reply.
“Oh, yeah, I almost forgot. I have great news.” She sat up straight and brushed her hair back, suddenly nervous. “I am going to expand my business. My blog has caught the interest of a major TV network, and now they want me to appear in one of their morning shows once a week.”
“Are you serious?”
She nodded, moisture glinting in her eyes. “It’s a dream come true.”
“Wow. That’s huge.” I clapped my hand over my mouth in surprise. “Which one?” I asked, surprised, genuinely happy for her.
“The one about unusual home decorating ideas.” She squealed with delight. “I’m so glad you insisted I give it a try. I would never have done it, were it not for you.”
“Jude, you’re going to be a celebrity,” I said, proud of her. She even looked the part, with her tall, toned body, blue eyes, and dark blonde hair. “You deserve everything. I’m so…so proud of you. Give me a hug.”
I pulled her to me and engulfed her in a tight embrace.
“Yeah.” She hesitated. “I don’t mind being a celebrity as long as people see my talent because, one day, I want to furnish all the big department stores, TV studios, and maybe even the President’s home.”
I laughed at her enthusiasm. “Yeah, why not? You have what it takes.” And I meant every word of it.
If someone could do it, then that person was Jude. The moment I saw her, I knew she was a star in the making, and now this was the proof I’ been waiting for all along.
“You know what? We’re not celebrating with this cheap wine.” I took her glass away and put it back on the kitchen table. “This is the day you will always remember. You deserve the best cocktail in town. We should go out and really celebrate. My treat,” I offered, even though my last money was being wasted on Chase’s services. With no job prospects on the horizon, I’d be cleaned out in a month. But, damn, I wasn’t going to crawl back to Waterfront Shore, even if it meant taking a job as a dog sitter.
“Love you. You’re the best.” Jude wrapped her arms around me and placed a hard kiss on my cheek, then jumped up to get dressed. The moment she disappeared, my phone beeped with a text message from Chase.
I had fun today. We should do it again. What’s the next step?
I smiled.
He had fun today. He wants to do it again.
My heart fluttered like a wild hummingbird at the prospect of seeing him again, of hearing his deep voice, and proceeding to the next step. Never mind the fact that I was scared to death of what that next step might be.
Under different circumstances, I would have run. But not from Chase. Even though I didn’t know him, I could feel his charm and ability to make everything sound intriguing working on me.
And intrigued I was.
A second later, Jude’s statement about his interest in me echoed in the back of my mind. I shook it off, refusing to think about whatever that might mean and whether there might just be a trace of truth to it. There was no need to become obsessive about what he really thought of me, of whether he liked me more than just a friend would. And there was certainly not going to be any obsessing about whether Chase thought I was relationship material—
I groaned, irritated with myself, as I realized I had started to obsess again. Thinking about possibilities and wondering what Chase might consider to be our next step when there should be none was not acceptable.
Ignoring his question, my fingers flew over the touchscreen. He had a job to do, and that was all we’d ever focus on. In no way would I ever repeat the mistake of overanalyzing his words again.
Compile a list per email of all the things we should know about each other.
Laurie
One minute later, my phone beeped again.
Consider it done. Can’t wait to see yours first. ;)
In spite of my clear resolutions, I found myself smiling. If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought he was flirting. Thank God I had no time to follow my disturbing train of thought, because footsteps sounded in the hall. I pushed my phone back into my handbag just as Jude appeared in the doorway.
“Ready?” She beamed at me. On the way out, she made a big fuss of not taking her handbag with her, but I caught her squeezing several bills into her jeans pocket when she thought I wasn’t looking.
Chapter 7
Three drinks later, followed by the beginning of a pounding headache, and we were back in our apartment. Or, more precisely, I was back, because a guy had chatted up Jude, and I used the excuse to drive back home alone, leaving her at the bar for a little longer so she could enjoy herself. For the past half hour, I had been staring at the couple of lines on the computer screen, unsure what to put down on virtual paper. As it turned out, Chase had sent another message in which he insisted that I compile a list for him with all the things I thought he should know about me, like favorite food and the brand of toothpaste I used.
Things I liked to do in my spare time.
Hopes and dreams for the future.
Things so mundane, they should have posed no trouble at all. Only, after the first two questions, my mind had bottled up, unwilling to reveal so much as the usual time I woke up in the morning.
In spite of the chilly air coming from the air conditioning, a thin layer of sweat covered my back.
Tell the truth, Hanson.
Fess up to the fact that you’re alone, defeated, desperate, and ready to crawl back into the dangerous cocoon that was life at home. But remember that with sacrifice comes victory. And with victory comes freedom from all the bonds.
Freedom I needed and longed for.
I had bottled everything up for so long, I didn’t know how to be free. All those secrets I was carrying with me, never able to share them with anyone, had begun to hurt me to the core. My soul had been trapped in pain and the knowledge of having seen the kind of things I should never have seen. If I revealed to Chase only a fraction of the real me—enough for him to get to know me without being freaked out—then I could win.
And I had to win. Not next year, nor years after today. It had to be this month—before I turned twenty-three. I was going to win even if it meant cutting my heart open so Chase could see inside me.
The real me.
Better a stranger than the people I had once trusted, people who had turned out to be more different than I had ever imagined.
I set my chin and began to type, giving Chase all the basic information he needed, leaving out the most important facts, such as why I had to do what I had to do. Once I was finished, I sent off the list, happy with the fact that I was doing something. Finally making the difference I had always wished for but never had the guts to pursue. Soon my struggles would be over.
Finally, only one thing remained. I picked up my cell phone, my fingers hovering over the contact list and the one name I usually avoided calling like the plague. But today I had no choice. He had to be notified about my engagement. My finger swiped the screen and pressed the call button, and the line began to ring. Eventually, the one person who was responsible for most of the pain and pretense I had to go through picked up: my stepfather, Clint.
***
I kept the call as short as possible and my news to a bare minimum. Once I was done, I sent off the email before I could change my mind, then went through the classified ads advertising jobs one more time…without much success. With rejection emails cluttering my inbox, I was slowly beginning to think I was jinxed.
In the end, I gave up for the day and shut down my computer, ready to focus on the one thing I had been dreading all along: preparing myself for the event I had avoided for more than three years.
Three years during which I had kept running in the hope I might finally break free, only to find out I had no choice but to return and face the stuff of my nightmares.
Chapter 8
It had been a few days of hard preparations and panic attacks induced by the fear choking me. Eventually, the inevitable arrived.
“The
y’re here,” I whispered to Jude, even though they couldn’t possibly hear me through the tinted glass of the limousine pulling up in front of our building.
“Laurie, look at me.” Jude’s hands squeezed my shoulders hard, forcing me to meet her determined gaze. “You’re going to be okay. I’ll make sure of that. I’ve got your back.”
And she did. Just the day before, she had bought me a fake engagement ring, which I was wearing now. It had a small, pale blue aquamarine stone, and to the untrained eye, it almost looked like a diamond. According to Jude, it had been cheap, but judging from the way it sparkled, I wasn’t so sure about that.
“Thanks.” I almost choked on the word as I fought the urge to hide in her room and let her shield me from the world out there for the rest of my life. “I wish I didn’t have to go through with this.”
But there was no escape. My stepfather Clint was here, and with him his girlfriend of the year: Shannon, a tall blonde I only knew from phone calls and the pictures they had sent me last Christmas.
She looked about my age, but I could instantly sense something about her, a predatory trait that had managed to keep him interested in her for longer than the few weeks it usually took him to love and dump his girlfriends.
After my mother’s death, I had often wondered how someone as devout as she had been all her life could have fallen for such a man-whore, and why she had granted him access to her wealth, leaving me in his care and to his mercy financially. Maybe, when she put that ridiculous clause in her will, she should have done the same thing for him. Instead, she had trusted him blindly in her belief that he’d uphold her values beyond her grave. Trusting he would always stay the same kind of man with a smile on his lips. If only she had looked deeper, past his tanned skin and soulful eyes, to notice the shadows in his soul. Maybe then she would have seen him for the kind of person he really was.
