by Ana Medeiros
“M, so happy you could make it for dinner,” her father said as she entered his library. He was sitting on his favorite chair, reading a book, and Pam was on the couch, several papers and folders scattered around her. The fireplace crackled between them.
“It’s been a while,” Meredith replied, walking up to him and giving him a hug. “I thought I was overdue for a home-cooked meal.”
“Couldn’t agree more.” Pam joined the conversation, also receiving a hug from Meredith.
She sat across from her stepmother and noticed the glasses both she and her father were holding, “What are you drinking?”
“A well-deserved scotch,” Samuel said with a smile. “Your stepmom and I need to fuel ourselves. May I offer you one?”
“I’m good, thanks. I wouldn’t say no to a beer, though.”
“I’m sure we can arrange that.”
“Good. I’ll go grab one.”
“No need,” he said, getting up. “I have to make a quick phone call before dinner anyway. I’ll bring you a nice cold beer.”
“Thanks, dad.” As soon as the sound of his heavy footsteps faded down the hall, she turned to Pam.
They stared at each other. Meredith was the one to break the silence. “Why did you think the information you gave me would make me want to stay away from Julian?”
Pam sighed loudly, resting her head on the back of the couch.
“Someone is in a mood.”
“Don’t play games with me, Meredith. I’ve been pulling sixteen-hour days and I have a case on my hands that, every day, inches closer and closer to a dead end.”
“No, you stop playing games with me. Why didn’t you give me any information on him prior to him being adopted? You wouldn’t have tried to get a hold of me for almost two weeks straight and then show up at my place with your panties in a bunch, asking me to stay away from him, if you hadn’t found something important.” She shifted to the edge of her seat, leaning closer to Pam. “What are you not telling me?”
“I don’t know anything that I haven’t shared with you. I still don’t have the earlier documents but I will. It’s only a matter of time.”
“Bullshit, Pam. What’s going on?”
Pam glanced at the door, visibly nervous her husband would overhear them. “Keep your voice down.”
When Meredith spoke she was almost whispering. “I don’t want to fight you on this. I understand you’re trying to protect me. I do. But I need to know the truth.”
“Have you been going to the club?”
“I have.”
“Damn it, Meredith. Stay away from that place.” Pam was struggling not to raise her voice.
“Tell me why.”
“I don’t know what else I’ll find when I dig deeper into his past but Julian Reeve is not a man you want to betray. What do you think he’ll do when he finds out you used him to get into the club with the intention to write a piece about him and The Raven Room?” They both heard a noise coming from outside the library. Pam stopped talking, waiting to see if it was Samuel. When she was certain they were still alone, she continued in a hushed voice. “Throughout the years there have been times I’ve wanted to gain access to the club. I’ve heard about other cops who also tried. Guess what happened? Nothing. You don’t get to go near it unless someone from inside wants you to.”
“He’ll only find out after the piece is published. Even then, only he, you, and I will know he’s the man in it. I’ll deal with Julian when that time comes.”
“Don’t you understand? You’re going to get into trouble and I won’t be able to help you.”
“Get me the rest of the information on him.” She wasn’t going to change her mind about writing the piece. To her, what had happened the last time she had been to the club only confirmed that the death of the woman was linked to The Raven Room.
Hearing her father’s approaching footsteps, she forced herself to smile.
“Look at that, you brought me my favorite beer,” she said, taking the bottle from him.
Samuel laughed, getting comfortable on his chair near the fireplace. “Now you’re just trying to please me.”
Meredith winked at him as she drank her beer.
The three of them chatted for a while, discussing how her studies were coming along, and the possibility of her joining him on his trip.
“This city is going through a rough patch.” She heard her father say when she tried to focus on the conversation unfolding around her.
“Tell me about it.” Pam pitched in. “We’re completely underfunded.”
“What do you expect with Matheson as our mayor?” Samuel asked.
Pam turned to Meredith, rolling her eyes. “Your dad can’t stand the man.”
“I still can’t believe you voted for him,” he said.
“You did?” Meredith accosted Pam.
“He was the best candidate,” she said to Samuel, ignoring Meredith’s question. “Don’t understand how you still can’t see that. But he needs to get rid of his crew, especially that mangy lap dog of his, Thompson,” she continued.
“You have it wrong. Matheson is Thompson’s fluffer.”
Meredith was about to enjoy another sip from her beer but stopped, holding the bottle midair. Her father rarely spoke so strongly about people. “Who?”
“You wouldn't know who he is,” Samuel brushed the question off. “I think he should run for mayor, though. He has the vision that could turn this city around. The man is brilliant.”
“Don’t listen to your dad. He lives in a bubble.”
Meredith shrugged. “I couldn’t care less about politics. I don’t understand it.”
“There’s only one thing you need to understand,” Samuel said. “In politics there’s always a reason for every action. Nothing is arbitrary. And that reason, even though it might not be apparent because nothing in this life unfolds in a straightforward fashion, is always about getting something that you want. That’s it.” Samuel smiled at her. “You should apply this same rationale to your every day. If you do, you’ll be ahead of everyone else in the room.”
Later that night, when Meredith was back at her apartment, she sat in front of her laptop and added several new paragraphs to her research material on The Raven Room. She was keeping Colton within reach, with the hope she would get him to tell her the name of the woman that had been found dead the day Pam had come over to her apartment.
A noise over her shoulder made Meredith look up and she saw her housemate, Tess, walk out of the bedroom, enveloped in an invisible bubble of expensive smelling perfume. “Didn’t know you were home,” she said, admiring the animal print of Tess’s dress. “Where are you going looking so glamorous?”
“I have a date,” she said with a broad smile. “We’re meeting at the bar of The Peninsula hotel.”
“Okay…who’s this guy?”
“A friend.” Tess shrugged. “A friend who takes care of me.”
Meredith couldn’t even pretend she was surprised. One of her other friends had a man who flew her down to Miami every year, paying all her expenses, including her stay at the one of the most luxurious hotels in the city. A friend of a friend had a man in her life who paid for her apartment in West Loop, while she finished medical school. They were sugar babies and Meredith wondered if she didn’t have a wealthy father who paid for her tuition and rent and gave her spending money, if she would be like those girls at Viagra Triangle, on the hunt for a private-jet–owning sugar daddy.
“I hope you’re charging at least five hundred dollars a pop.”
“Oh, believe me,” Tess said as she put her jacket on. “Tuition isn’t getting any cheaper…neither is the Celine bag I have been drooling over since October. M, I went to Barney’s last week and I held it in my hands. And I just smelled it. I swore I heard violins in the background. I’m telling you, that’s what you call love.”
Meredith thought her friend looked breathtaking. She had put a lot of effort into curling her long blonde hair, apply
ing barely there makeup that perfectly enhanced her girl-next-door features and selecting a tasteful combination of timeless accessories. “When you get it, we’ll go out and celebrate,” she said to Tess with a smile.
“You better believe it, honey. All night long.”
“Just be careful out there. Text me if you need anything.”
“Will do,” she said as she closed the door behind her.
The apartment was quiet again. Looking at the time on her computer, Meredith wondered what she could possibly do with herself on a Thursday night that didn’t involve going out. She had received a text from Olivia, whom she had met last year through friends, asking her if she was up to joining her to watch a local band perform at Empty Bottle, in the Ukrainian village. Meredith replied asking her if she wanted to come over instead. After a few minutes of texting back and forth, Olivia said she was on her way.
Meredith changed into a pair of yoga pants and a plain t-shirt, her favorite attire to lounge around the apartment. A few days ago she had looked at her reflection in the mirror and was taken by surprise when she realized she was only twenty-three years old. She shouldn’t feel so weary.
Soon she heard a soft knock on the door. She smiled to herself. It was time to unwind, forget all about The Raven Room and Julian.
• • •
It was past one in the morning. Only the nightstand lamp was on. Olivia lay down naked on the bed, staring at the white ceiling of Meredith’s small bedroom.
“It’s so quiet in here.”
Meredith didn’t move. Her body was still recovering from her last orgasm.
“Does it bother you?” she asked, her eyes closed.
“I like it.”
She stretched her arm and touched Olivia’s ankle, caressing it.
“Why don’t we do this more often?”
Olivia lifted her head from the bed and met Meredith’s eyes. “Maybe because you’re always too busy worshiping the cock?”
The comment caught her by surprise. She chuckled.
“Ready to finish that joint?” Olivia asked.
Meredith propped herself up, her head and shoulders resting against the bedframe. Like Olivia, she was naked, and the touch of the soft sheets against her skin made her shiver. To her, not too many things felt as good as Egyptian cotton sheets. On her last birthday Julian had surprised her with a set from D. Porthault, with beautiful full-blown red dahlias floating on a pristine white background. Not too many women she knew would have been thrilled to receive sheets as a gift from a man they were sleeping with, but she loved them and it proved to Meredith that Julian had come to know her well. The message he had included with it—“So you and every one of your lovers can feel like royalty in your bed”—was the perfect finishing touch. Right now, that’s exactly how she felt.
“Here you go, greedy kitten,” Olivia said, placing the joint between her lips and lighting it with one of the matches Meredith had for the candles in her room. “So what’s new? Do you have a boyfriend?”
Meredith exhaled and the smoke lingered around her face. “No boyfriend. You?”
“I’m seeing this guy.”
“Hmm…do you ever plan to tell your family?”
“Tell what?” Olivia asked, stretching her arm toward Meredith. “Pass it to me.” She grabbed the joint, holding it between her thumb and middle finger, and took a deep pull from it.
“Hello?” Meredith slapped her thigh. “That you prefer women?”
“Definitely not. It’s harder for us, black people, to come out.”
“Does he know?”
“Jesus, honey, this bud must be strong. It’s muddling your brain.”
“Are you going to cheat on him forever?”
“Yup.”
“That’s wrong.”
“You know what’s wrong?” Olivia asked, playing with a strand of Meredith’s hair. “Thinking a guy is down with his girl liking pussy. I mean, for real liking pussy. And not him just believing it’s something she does to please him when he’s hitching for a threesome.”
“I don’t think I’m with you on that.”
“If you’re smart, you would be. It shrivels their ego, sweetie. Soon enough he will packing up and looking for some chick who has wifey written on her forehead.”
Taking the joint from Olivia, Meredith inhaled and held her breath for as long as she could. She felt the heat in her lungs.
“Do you prefer cock?” Olivia continued.
Putting out what was left of the joint, Meredith gave some thought to Olivia’s question.
“I don’t think I do. It’s all about the person in question. I know for a fact I couldn’t go the rest of my life without touching a woman.” She moved closer to Olivia and ran her fingers down her arm. “Or tasting a woman.”
Meredith kissed Olivia, gently at first, her lips caressing hers like the prelude to a much-cherished pleasure. Olivia intensified the kiss; a sound of satisfaction escaped her and filled the silent room. Deeply relaxed, her senses heightened, Meredith abandoned herself to Olivia’s erotic touch. Their legs intertwined, their stomachs touched, she almost screamed when she felt Olivia’s mouth close on her sensitive nipple.
“You’re so wet.” Olivia’s words sounded like they were being torn out of her.
Lying down between Olivia’s legs, all Meredith wanted was to pleasure her. “Gorgeous pussy.” She didn’t stop kissing and licking her until she felt Olivia pull her hair and tense up against her face.
Meredith loved watching Olivia climax. She found it inspiring. Enjoying the body of a woman was instinctual to her. It felt like she was finding a long lost piece of herself outside of her own body. Thinking of the way Olivia moved, feline and melodious, the beauty of her dark hair, the strong and simultaneously elusive feel of her full, heart-shaped lips, and her touch—admiring, fiery, but so tender—made Meredith relate to men in their love for the feminine.
“What are you going to do when you’re done with your Master’s?”
By now they had been lying side-by-side, chatting for hours. Meredith had lit several of the candles scattered throughout the room and their aroma, mixed with the earthy notes of the burning incense, was reminiscent of an autumn campfire. She yawned, trying to remain awake. She had to be up in less than three hours. “Have a career. And travel as much as I can.”
“Where do you want to go?”
“Everywhere. One day I’ll be a respected journalist and I’ll live in Paris. In a beautiful historic house with a view of the Eiffel tower.”
Olivia laughed, covering her eyes with her forearm. “Are you serious?” Her usual girly voice now sounded raspy, a sign she was also tired.
“I’m dead serious.”
“You’re so fucking crazy.”
“Because I want to live in Paris?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll find myself a couple of French lovers. Pussy on Monday. Cock on Tuesday.”
Olivia had a large grin on her face. It slowly faded, giving way to an inquisitive frown. “Are you still sleeping with that guy?”
“Which one?”
“The old one.”
Meredith guessed she was referring to Julian. “He’s not old.” She had to be the only woman in her early twenties who believed a thirty-nine-year-old man wasn’t old. “He’s still in the picture.” She hadn’t wanted to talk about him, or even think of him that evening, but that was proving to be impossible.
“Married? Kids? Hot-looking girlfriend with starfish syndrome? What’s his story?”
When she heard Olivia mention starfish syndrome, Meredith laughed. She had no idea where the term originated from, but it described a woman who expected the man, for whatever reason, to be the one to do all the work during sex. Like a starfish, she would just lay there. Meredith felt sorry for anyone who went through life experiencing their sexuality in such a passive manner.
“Nothing like that,” she answered, shaking her head.
“Oh God, please don’t tell me he has
mommy issues?”
For several long minutes Meredith didn’t reply. She didn’t know much about Julian’s childhood. When Olivia didn’t press her to answer the question, Meredith turned and looked at her. She had fallen asleep.
Meredith watched Olivia. There was a tranquility to her expression that Meredith hadn’t witnessed in another human being in a very long time. Gently, so she wouldn’t disturb her, she caressed her hair. Maybe she would invite Olivia to visit her in Paris. They could be young and carefree in the city of light. As Meredith rested her head back on the pillow and closed her eyes, she suddenly realized who could tell her more about Julian—Hazel, his adoptive mother. Once, when they were on their way to dinner, he had received a frantic call from Hazel’s caregiver, saying she was having one of her episodes and he needed to come over as soon as possible. Reluctantly, he had taken Meredith along and after Hazel had calmed down, Meredith had chatted with her for a while. They had become fast friends. Hazel had an air of pragmatism that was compelling to Meredith. It was their common ground.
That had been less than two months ago. It was time for Meredith to visit Hazel.
Chapter 12
“I can’t believe we’re eating ice cream inside of your fancy car in the Whole Foods parking lot.”
A splatter dripped down Julian’s hand. He quickly licked it off. Alana tried to not smile. “I can’t believe I’m not eating this ice cream off of your naked body, inside of this fancy car in the Whole Foods parking lot.”
This was the first time they were seeing each other after she had spent the night at his place. The next morning, while he was still lying in bed, she had quietly gotten up, picked her clothes off the floor and dressed herself. Not even pretending to be asleep, he had kept his gaze on her. Alana had known he was watching her. Their eyes had met several times but her expression hadn’t allowed him to guess what she was thinking. The one thing he had been certain of was that Alana’s behavior hadn’t sprung out of anger. When she had finished dressing and had grabbed her bag of books from the reading chair, Julian had asked her if he could drive her where she was going. She had refused. When he had asked her for her number she had said she didn’t own a mobile phone and that he could call her at the bookstore. After that brief exchange of words, Alana had turned around and walked out of his condo.
