by Maya Brooks
They weren’t isolated in the house in any way. They visited Marc’s friends and acquaintances, and people came over, but something like this could be entirely different. The mere thought of going back to incoherent, doped up Marc made her heart sink.
When she didn’t answer, he put his hands on her shoulders.
“I throw these away because I don’t want to be that person anymore. C’mon, let’s go skating, I promise I won’t let you fall.”
Close contact with ice might not be such a bad idea after all.
Marc kept the promise: she was still barely able to stand on the skates, but he kept her on her feet. She had clearly misjudged the sport; it was an excuse to cling to him in a public area.
He glanced down into her eyes and smiled.
“What?”
“Nothing. I was just thinking I’m learning to enjoy this.”
Though, not for the reason you might think.
“I wanted to be a hockey player when I was younger. Didn’t turn out like that, but I got to play one a few years ago.”
When they returned home, a little package waited. Marc put up an innocent face.
“I think that’s for you.”
Really? What did you do?
She started to open it, slowly, wanting to savor the sweet feeling of having a present. He dropped the cool façade. “C’mon, just rip it open. You’re killing me here.”
So, she ripped.
“I got a box.”
It’s a pretty box too, all blue and velvety.
“Yes, I bought you a box. Kill me now, or end my suffering and open it.”
She opened the lid and her breath got stuck in her chest. A heart-shaped gem surrounded by white gold looked up at her.
Marc murmured, “I wanted to get you a diamond ring, but it’s not time yet. A necklace will have to do.”
Oh you wonderful, romantic, crazy, gorgeous man!
*****
Bill came by their house a couple of days later. Laura was still a little afraid of him, but he had warmed up considerably since Marc returned to employable shape.
I’m a useful tool to him.
She sat in the kitchen with her feet pulled up under her, sipping a mug of hot cocoa.
The tall agent leaned against a kitchen counter and crossed his arms over his chest.
“I need to talk to the two of you.”
Obviously, since you’re here.
He fixed his gray eyes on Marc. “You have to show yourself, it’s a part of your job. You’ve been holed up here for months. I’ll see you two Thursday night.”
He headed for the door, but paused and glanced back over his shoulder, looking straight at Laura. “Your job is to keep him presentable at least through dinner. Get a nice dress.”
Marc glared after him, and as soon as the front door closed, he lifted an eyebrow and mimicked the agent perfectly.
“Keep him presentable over dinner. Get a nice dress. Dick. We don’t have to go just because he says so.”
But we will, won’t we? For better and for worse. Am I the only one who thinks returning an addict to temptation seems a horrible idea? Should I say something, or will that make everything worse?
When the night she both feared and anticipated came and they were ready to leave the house, she paused to look at her lover. He was so handsome her heart might stop.
I should probably count my blessings if you’re still by my side on the way home.
He smiled, “What?” and she shook her head.
“Nothing.”
“Yes, something. What?”
She put a hand on his shoulder.
“I just… You look so good I want to rip all your clothes off.”
He laughed and cupped her cheek in his hand.
“And you are beautiful. If it was up to me, I’d carry you to bed and investigate what you’re wearing under the dress.”
At least they were in agreement. If neither of them wanted to go, they probably shouldn’t.
This was business.
He was already known for being unpredictable
They had to show up.
He brushed his lips over hers. “Kissing-safe lipstick is the best invention ever.” Falling serious, he added, “I might need you to tell me to go home.”
“I know.”
“Hit me if you have to.”
“Not funny.”
She sat quietly in the car, struggling not to fidget, and once they reached the mansion, she was grateful to walk arm in arm with him.
I’ve been thinking our house is big. This is a friggin’ palace. So many people…
There were a few familiar faces, but there must be at least a hundred make-up artists, administrators, assistants, and people with jobs she couldn’t even spell.
I’m such an outsider. Do they know I’m here? If they do, if they see me, what do they think? I probably shouldn’t stare, but it’s so hard not to. Well, at least I’m not ogling people…
The house held more brass chandeliers and marble pillars than she’d seen in her life.
Marc tilted his head towards her. “They’re not real. It’s just foam, painted well. Nothing here is real, it’s just a façade.”
Makes sense. They deal in a world of fantasy, why not continue the show off camera? That’s where it goes wrong for you, isn’t it? You want something normal in a world of constant make believe.
Marc stayed glued to her side, introduced her to people, and made her feel safe. There were so many names, all blurring together in her mind. Hours passed, and she didn’t realize how long they’d been there until he said, “I’m drunk. Maybe we should go home.”
“Okay.”
It was so responsible of him she wanted to cheer. Not to mention stopping somewhere on the way home to make love.
They almost made it to the door.
Someone spotted them and shouted, “You can’t leave yet, we need a photo with the crew.”
Marc muttered, “Damn,” and turned back into the house, holding her hand.
A new voice called out, “Marc, I can see you enjoy your new woman, but if she’s not in the show you’ll have to let her go for a little bit.”
Just like that, they were separated.
Laura stood with her back against the wall, overwhelmed by the posing and camera flashes.
A woman tugged at her arm, babbling something about upholstery and the hosts’ good taste in furniture, and on the other side, another voice broke in.
“I love those earrings, dear. Where did you get them? I’ve been admiring them all evening, but that egotistical man kept you all to himself.”
“I…”
There was no time to answer. Well-meaning hands pushed and pulled her into another room. She glanced back over her shoulder in half panic and Marc met her eyes. People tugged him in the other direction and he held up five fingers. She could almost hear him say, Five minutes, babe.
Five minutes turned into forty as she dodged questions and tried to break free from the group without being rude.
Whoa these people are curious.
The other women wanted to talk about Marc, and she liked talking about him, but she also had a churning feeling they should get out of there while they still could.
One voice said, “He’s handsome, but he is a party fiend that one. How do you cope with it?”
Someone else filled in, “Anne didn’t hold up too well, bless her heart. Hope you don’t mind me saying so.”
Laura was about to answer everyone has flaws of some kind, but the subject had already moved on to someone else’s husband and the scandal of finding a leopard thong in the back of their Porsche.
A platinum blonde woman said, “Don’t get me wrong, Simon is an absolute sweetheart, but he needs to keep these things to himself. I don’t tell him about my tennis instructor, and I don’t want to know where his dick goes.”
Another beautiful face said, “Oh hush you, you’re scaring our new girl.”
The first woman laughed, “C’mon, she lives
with Marc. She has to know it happens.”
How many of these women spread their legs for him?
Wait, I don’t want to know. Making friends is good, and if I know which ones slept with him I’ll never get past it. Maybe they all did.
Once she excused herself from the women, promising they would have to get together soon, she took a wrong turn and wandered around for a bit before she found the way to Marc.
Men. I should have figured out they’d find a bar.
Her lover smoked a cigar and seemed a trifle unsteady, but better than she expected. When he saw her, he put his scotch down on the bar and waved to her to come closer.
“There she is, my fairy queen.”
He pulled her close, even remembering to keep the cigar away from her, and she wrapped her arms around his neck.
“I want to go home.”
She expected him to object and want to stay with his friends, but he just nodded.
“Okay.”
*****
Marc was relieved to find the woman in his arms hold more appeal than the party.
She was right too; they should go while he still could. Nothing good ever came from him staying late.
He leaned a little heavier against her than he’d like to confess, but the front door was in sight.
This could have ended much worse. Maybe I’m not a lost cause.
He paused, and Laura glanced up at him with a question in her eyes.
“It’s a long way home, I need to use the restroom. I’ll be right back.”
She lifted an eyebrow and he pulled her closer and kissed her temple. He should say something to ease the worry in her eyes.
“You can come with me if you want. I mean, you’ve seen him a million times before.”
“Oh no, I’m not watching you pee. Just hurry back.”
Why do I always get this warm feeling in my chest when she’s near?
“You’re too cute.”
The smile stayed on his lips until he left the restroom, but faded quickly when Joel waited outside, back leaned against a wall.
“Where the hell have you been, man? I haven’t seen you since forever. You don’t answer your phone, one could almost think you’re avoiding me.”
Marc shrugged and glanced around.
Babe, this would be a really good time to show up.
He saw her close to the front door, but she had her back turned, talking to Lawrence.
Crap. Okay, I’m an adult and I can do this on my own. Just put one foot in front of the other and go towards the door. How hard can it be? How many times has she told you to go home when hanging with Joel almost killed you?
His old party buddy slapped his back. “C’mon, I’ve gotta show you something.”
Say no. Just say no and walk away.
His feet walked, but in the wrong direction, following Joel towards a back room.
Okay, maybe I can stay for just five minutes, for old time’s sake.
“Look what I have. It’s from Colombia.”
“I gotta go. My girl is waiting.”
“Oh, you have time to try a little. You’ve been gone fucking forever.”
The reasonable voice that told him to leave quieted, and the devil on his shoulder grew louder.
Just a little would make him feel so good.
Laura doesn’t have to know. You’re already drunk, she won’t notice.
The months with her had made him forget how much he wanted it, and it was there, so close.
Chapter Eleven
Laura waited, shifting her weight from foot to foot, pretending she wasn’t waiting.
Should she go look for him? She didn’t want him to think she didn’t trust him, but the truth was, she didn’t trust him.
After a few more minutes she didn’t want to go anymore.
Nothing good can come out of this. Maybe I’m happier not knowing just a little while longer.
She took her cell phone out of the purse. No messages.
Well, at least I can check Facebook.
Before she got a smartphone of her own, she wondered why people always played with them. Now, it made perfect sense. Whenever there was a risk of looking lost or lonely, the phone kept one busy and gave credibility to being alone. Eating on one’s own or even sitting alone could be gruesome, but playing with a phone made it legit.
After twenty minutes she couldn’t justify waiting anymore.
Fuck. I shouldn’t have to go with you to pee.
She put the phone back in the little purse and walked towards the restrooms, attempting to smile and look merry in spite of the giant boulder resting on her chest. No one stopped her, and no one talked to her.
Marc met her after just a few steps down the corridor. He was pale and sweaty, and his pupils much too large.
This can’t be good. Well, at least he came back. I expected him to disappear off with some busty blondes never to be seen again.
He trailed his lips over her neck.
“Babe, I’m so horny, come on.”
“I want to go home. You need to follow me home.”
He tugged towards a door, muttering, “Yes, yes, in a minute,” and she followed automatically, into a closet filled with suits and shirts.
What the hell are we doing in here? Oh no.
He inched her dress up over her hips, let his pants fall down around his feet and took her.
“Oh yes, babe, that feels so fucking good.”
Great. Just hurry up and get it over with.
She certainly didn’t want him to go to someone else, so she only protested a little. She had wanted to have sex with him anyway, just not right there.
Afterwards, his sperm trailed down her leg.
Eeeww, disgusting. With any luck you’ve made a big wet spot somewhere on the dress too.
Marc already had his hand on the door handle.
“Wait.”
He looked back with an impatient, eerie stare.
Okay Laura, tread lightly. You can bring him home or lose him. Your Marc is in there, somewhere.
Keeping her tone light was a struggle; it would be much easier to yell at him, or why not panic.
Those women were right. She was in over her head.
“You made a mess. I have to dry off with something.”
Her lover grumbled something unintelligible and pulled a shirt down from a hanger, shoving it into her hands.
“This is someone’s, I can’t use this.”
He rolled his eyes and went down on his knees to dry her off.
Don’t kick him, Laura. Whatever you do, do not kick him.
She looked down at his untidy hair.
“Now can we go home?”
“Sure, but loosen up, learn to live a little.”
He got back to his feet and she tucked her hands around his arm. “Right now, I think you’re loose enough for the both of us.”
A few steps from the closet, they met a man accompanied by a very tall redhead with dark skin and long red nails.
Is that a man or a woman? Either way, she needs a longer dress.
The other man was in worse shape than Marc, and seemed unable to focus his eyes on them. He still grinned.
“My man, there you are. Come have a drink.”
She squeezed Marc’s arm. “No. We’re going home.”
No one listened. The stranger held out a glass with golden liquid and Marc emptied it. Then, he stared at the glass and frowned.
“What the hell do you have in this thing?”
Great, more booze and drugs, just what you need.
The other man ignored the question. “Who is this beauty you’ve been hiding from me?”
Marc wrapped his arms around her, a little too hard.
“Joel, this is my girlfriend, and if you touch her or put any of your shit even near her, I’ll kill you so help me God.”
You’re Joel, huh? I’ve heard a lot about you.
Joel backed up a step and held his hands out.
“Alright, al
right. Damn you’re serious today. C’mon man, we need to go out back.”
Say something! Take command of the situation!
Pep-talking herself helped, and she was surprised to find her own voice come out strong and steady. “No. You don’t need to go out back. We are going home.”
Marc swayed and fumbled for the car keys in his pocket. She stared into his eyes. “You’re coming with me.”
The words seemed to make him uncertain. Joel nodded towards the back room.
“Come on man, it won’t wait forever.”
Marc took a step to follow, and Laura grabbed his arm, surprised over her own ability and will to get physical over this.
Who gave this idiot the remote control that makes you walk and talk?
“If you’re going back there, I’m going to. You don’t want that, do you?”
Frowning, he made a visible attempt to straighten up and think. “No. You… I love you.”
Shame you don’t love yourself a little too.
“Yes you do, and I love you. That’s why you’re coming with me this time. If you want more cocaine or whatever the fuck he has back there, you can do that tomorrow. Right now, you’re mine.”
She put every ounce of willpower into the words.
Way to go, amateur psychiatrist.
To her delight, Marc raised his hand. “Bye Joel.”
Joel took a step forward, and Laura glared.
If you say one more word, move one more inch in Marc’s direction, I will kick you and beat you. You know how that will end; he’ll take my side.
The thoughts must have showed in her eyes and face. Joel shrunk back.
*****
Laura didn’t exactly carry Marc to the car, he was much too big for that, but he leaned heavily on her, and they swerved over the snowy ground.
“What the fuck did that fucker give me?”
And you were still about to follow him. Sheesh.
“See, that’s why you don’t take other people’s glasses and empty them.”
“Fuck.”
“I know you know more words than that one.”
“Sure… I just can’t fucking walk.”
I’m happy you can walk at all; you can barely talk.
“Give me the keys, handsome.”
He shook his head and tried to free himself from her grip.
