“Ladies and gentlemen,” he begins.
Adam
From the corner of my eye, I see Taylor shifting in her chair. If she’s thinking she’ll just come up to the stage and make a dry announcement of the band, she’s completely wrong. I smile at her briefly, and wait for her to sit back in her chair, and then introduce the band. I recite what Bree told me about the band earlier in the evening and introduce the band members by their names.
“What would a celebration be without hitting the dance floor? Unfortunately we’re thirty-two men against fifteen women. That says a lot about HR, doesn’t it?” People begin laughing; I wait for a few seconds before I go on. “As a solution, you ladies have to dance with at least two gentlemen, so we all can get a chance to shake it. I know you’re all shy and not intoxicated enough. So, I’m going to go ahead and do the first dance to open up the dance floor.”
It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know Taylor won’t say ‘yes’ to my dance invitation if I ask her nicely, so I have to impose it on her. Holding the microphone still close to my mouth, I raise my free hand toward her. She rolls her eyes and shakes her head as a reply. Only, she won’t be able to escape. I won’t let her.
I can barely contain a laugh coming. “You’re part of the statistics.”
“Pick someone else. I don’t want to be your first victim.” Her gaze is glued on the glass of soda in her hand, her fingers drumming around it. A nervous tick that I’ve grown accustomed to over the years. She doesn’t stand a chance, and she knows it. But, she won’t go down without a fight. That’s the Taylor I know and love.
I start to walk toward her, taking each step in stride. She shakes her head several times and raises her hands, palms facing me. Wrong move. I reach for her hand and clutch it firmly. Nothing in the world can stop me from having this dance with her. Not even her. I pull her hand gently, but with resolute will, toward me and bow my head like the gentleman that I am.
“Will you do me the honor?”
Standing up ever so slowly, she casts those wicked, blue eyes of hers toward me, arresting me with their beauty. “Under one condition,” she whispers to my ear.
She’d run miles away had she known the effect of her warm breath anywhere near my skin. The touch of her hair on my face fires a jolt of arousal in my groin, and I don’t know how much longer I can wait to have my way with her.
“What is it?” Now it’s my turn to avoid her gaze, the heat of it so seductive I’m afraid I’ll just force my lips onto hers. Instead, I breathe in her perfume, J’adore by Dior. I bought a bottle of the cologne, as soon as I figured out the brand, just so I can have her smell anytime I want. Only, the scent in the bottle isn’t as intoxicating as it is on her skin.
“You’ll dance with Valerie afterwards.” She glances down at Valerie, who is eating her desert, looking oblivious to our conversation.
I nod briefly and lead her slowly to the dance floor, where everyone can see us. I’d rather have her only for me for our first dance ever, but for now it’ll have to do.
“Let the dance begin.” I hand the microphone back to the singer. The first song is hand-picked by me; Sinatra’s I’ve got you under my skin and I’m dying to see Taylor’s response.
Sliding my hand around her waist, I pull her closer to me. My hand spans across a little above the small of her back. My heart is racing with desire and the thrill of being so close to her, and I work on breathing slowly to keep the storm brewing inside me to myself. My fingers draw circles across the thin fabric of her dress that leaves nothing to imagination about the smoothness of her skin underneath. Will I ever get to run my hands across her beautiful body without the interference of a dress?
She takes extra care not to let her chest touch mine. What wouldn’t I give for that touch? I let my eyes trail down her body. Her breasts look larger under the dress, likely because she’s wearing a padded bra. I prefer the lacy ones that do nothing to hide her nipples when they harden. I bet they’re stiff now beneath the bra, just as the rest of her body is. With her soft hand in mine, I inhale her sweet smell again and watch her expression as the tune begins.
A smile flickers across her plump lips, making me suck in a sharp breath. Her smiles are so few and far between, I can’t help but feel triumphant for lightening her mood, even for a little bit.
Bending her head down, she looks up at me through her long lashes. “Did you pick this song?”
I don’t answer her. What’s the point of saying ‘yes’ when the answer is crystal clear? I gently draw her closer and begin to sway with her to the music. She tenses more, even tries to pull back, but my grip is tight.
When she finally relaxes, I start whispering the lyrics to her ear. I’ll be damned. She picks up the song where I stop and continues singing the lines softly, almost inaudibly. Why the sudden change of heart? I try to look into her eyes but she’s hanging her head, maybe to hide her emotions from me. Her voice is soft like velvet, soothing and warm. Like Christmas to my ears.
At one point in the middle of the song, her voice cracks, her body begins shaking, and all I can hear are her silent sobs. I lead her in a circle, until I face the stage so her face is blocked by my torso from the audience, and slide a finger under her chin to tilt her face up. Her eyes are clouded with tears and unfocused with deep thoughts, as though a private piece of memory is playing in her head.
Suddenly, it all comes crashing down to me. Who am I kidding? I am the one who doesn’t stand a chance. I can’t even beat a dead man in his grave. It’s true what everyone has been saying all these years. What she has been saying. Her coldness, the way she always tries to keep her distance, her constant refusals of my dinner invitations aren’t because she’s close-minded or afraid to give love another try. It’s because she can’t. I can continue this foolish game and run after her for years to come, yet it won’t change the fact. The simple, plain, but hurtful fact that her heart belongs with Jack, my best friend for life. She can never love me the way she loves him. She’ll never be mine like she’s given herself to him.
Oh, god. Why did I fall in love with the one woman I can never have? What did I do to deserve such an excruciating pain?
It’s all too much to bear. Her shaking body, her tears, the pain in her face. I want to shed tears with her, share her pain, and sooth mine, too, as if it were remotely possible.
How I wish to be able to let her go and find another woman who can mend my heart and make it beat again. Does such a woman exist? Even Pat, my first love, couldn’t make me forget about Taylor. Actually I’m at the point where I don’t care about falling in love again. I’d settle for a woman who could at least get Taylor off my mind.
I’d give everything for such a woman. Everything.
“I think that’s enough for tonight,” Taylor says between her sobs, pulling me back to reality. The reality where not loving her is not an option, but loving her is a cross I have to carry along for the rest of my life. The reality where I can’t take my mind off of her even for a minute, let alone forgetting her completely.
“Please, stay with me until the song ends. I need this,” I beg.
She stares at me with those big, blue eyes glistening with tears and blinks her acceptance. I pull her close to me one last time, my eyes glued onto hers, lost in the impossible dream of one day, maybe… Who knows?
Can I go on like this? Loving her while she swears a lifelong commitment to a dead man?
She looks as though she’ll collapse onto the floor any second. When the song ends, I walk her out to the restroom and then go back to the party. Fortunately, the dance floor is now full of people dancing and chattering the evening away. I don’t want to sit and deal with the colleagues, but I can handle one. So, I slowly step toward Valerie and hold my hand out to beckon her for a dance. She wipes off her mouth with her napkin and slides her hand into mine.
It’s not the same with Valerie, although every time she’s around me she brings out her sweet side, rather than the usual cold treatment
she gives to everyone else. She’s smart, witty, and pretty. Well, would be pretty if she tosses away those black specs and eases on the eye makeup.
I don’t wrap my hand around her waist, just place it a little above her hip, and keep a clear distance between us.
“Did she start crying?” Valerie asks, taking me off-guard.
I nod apologetically.
“Of course she did. I’ve got you under my skin was the opening song of her wedding reception. The first song she and Jack danced to as a married couple.”
“Really?” I try to remember but I can’t. I was drunk for most of their wedding day, anyway. “How do you know? Were you at the wedding? I thought you and Taylor have known each other for only one and half years.
“No, I wasn’t at her wedding. I’ve known her for two year and three months. She once showed me the video recordings of the ceremony. The two made an eye-catching couple, not to mention how deeply in love they looked.”
I nod again, wondering where she’s heading at with this.
“So, what’s your deal?” Valerie asks.
“What do you mean?” She’s got me totally confused.
“Do you love Taylor?”
How dare she? I look at the couples dancing close to us to make sure they didn’t hear Valerie’s outrages question. “It’s none of your business.”
“It wouldn’t be if you weren’t hurting her. She’s my friend. As much as I wish her to move on and get another man, your persistent advances are just pushing her back to where she was when she lost Jack. You don’t let her breathe. You’re around all the time, constantly demanding love and affection when she cannot even provide those feelings for herself.”
With her lips pursed into a tight line and her scowl leveled at me, I can see how utterly she’s pissed off. Can she be right? Am I the reason why Taylor is still struggling? “I… I had no idea.”
“You need to give her some space. You’ve been with her since the day after the funeral. It’s too much. Don’t you see you’re drowning her? She doesn’t need someone like you; a constant reminder of her dead husband. Why don’t you take a couple of months off from work? She’ll have room to breathe, and you’ll get an opportunity to think things through. You know what they say, ‘Out of sight out of mind.’”
“I don’t know.” I wish she’d shown me the cold treatment rather than this irritating talk. I don’t want to go away and leave Taylor alone. Even if she may not love me back, she is my best friend’s wife. Well, she was. So, her wellbeing is my responsibility. I can’t just turn my back on her.
“I’ll be here for her,” she adds as if she read my mind. “I had a sister who died in a traffic accident when she was seven. She’d be Taylor’s age had she lived. Since the day I met Taylor, I see her like my little sister. In spite of the turmoil she’s going through, she’s a very caring and understanding person. I truly want her to be happy, again. But, she can’t get there as long as you’re around. And, don’t worry about the company and the projects. Your help has been incredible, but the business is pretty standard from this point on.”
At last the song finishes, and so does the torturous talk of Valerie. I thank her for the dance, without commenting on her absurd ideas, and walk her back to the table.
So what, she knows Taylor for two years and three fucking months. I knew Jack for the majority of my life. I won’t leave his wife alone during the hardest times of her life.
I snap up a glass of champagne and toss it back. I wasn’t going to drink more than a glass, but Valerie’s preaching didn’t leave me another option.
Taylor appears at the door; her eyes and cheeks are blood red. She was even smiling before I asked her for dance. But now, it’s like Jack’s funeral all over again.
Shit? Is Valerie right? Am I drowning Taylor? She paces in front of me, without looking up at me, and goes to her table. I watch her idly as she murmurs something to Valerie and picks up her purse and scarf. Fuck, no! Is she leaving so early? It’s because of the song. The song I’ve chosen for our first dance.
Even a blind man can see it. I’m drowning her.
She waves goodbye at Valerie and Bree and strides back toward the door. I want to go down on my knees and ask for forgiveness until I see her smile again. I’ll even promise to let her go if that’s what she needs to be happy again.
I run after her through the hallway but she’s nowhere to be seen. I hurry toward the elevators, hoping to find her there, without success. I call the elevator and wait an entire minute for it to arrive. I step into it and press the button for the lobby, hoping to catch Taylor before she leaves. As soon as the doors slide open at the lobby, I dash toward the exit door, my eyes scanning around. Where has she gone?
“Have you seen a red Hyundai leaving?” I ask the doorman.
“Yes, Mrs. Edelman’s Hyundai. She’s just left.”
“Crap.” I motion to the valet to bring my car. She must be going to her apartment. I have to apologize to her and let her know I won’t be bothering her anymore. I’ve been blaming her for not moving on, but I think it’s me who has to listen to my own advice and move on.
Taylor
I’m driving fast, and my eyes are blurred with tears. I can’t believe a song could bring me to tears in a room full of people, especially after my eyes have been tear-free for almost three long years. I should feel happy about it, finally shaking off the emotional numbness that was eating at me for so long. I was even worried that my eyes had permanently lost the function of producing tears after crying nonstop for one full month after Jack’s death.
I should have left a note or something for Adam, I think to myself, as I wipe my tears away and notice through the rearview mirror a green sedan driving a little too close to me. Adam must be dead worried, and I can’t even imagine Valerie’s attitude. I decide to text Bree as soon as I get home and floor the gas pedal. At least, the others will enjoy themselves without their crazy boss bitching around.
I smile at the thought of anyone calling me bitch behind my back. Frightening maybe, freaky most likely, demanding surely, but a bitch? Bree reported to me more than a couple of times how happy and thrilled everyone is to be working at my company, even though I forbid employees chatting with each other or using Internet for anything besides work-related reasons and made it clear to them that I’d randomly check their browsing histories.
I wipe my tears away as I spot the La Brea exit on the highway, but can’t slide into the right lane on time, and miss the exit. Punching the steering wheel, I take the Crenshaw and notice the green sedan is right after me, taking the same exit.
With a little bit of traffic, I make it to the parking lot of the residency where my condo is in twenty minutes. A yawning attack hits me, as I kill the engine in my parking slot and pull out the key from the ignition. I wrap my scarf over my shoulders and grab my purse before opening the door.
I note it’s chillier here in Miracle Mile than the Peninsula’s front entry, wondering whether the hotel invests in heaters at the entrance. That’d be the ultimate customer satisfaction.
I hear murmurs deep inside the lot when I reach the elevator. While I continuously hit the button, I turn around to find out the source of the noise. No one is to be seen. Must be a neighbor, I think to myself to calm down, but if the tapping of my shoe is a sign of anything, it is that of my fear. I look around once again to make sure it’s just the wind or even some rat, but my senses are all about fight or flight. I glance down at my boots, whose heels appear miles long with my anxiety. Just the right length to break my ankles, were I to start running in them.
Good thing the residency is gated and secure.
The two elevators seem to be stuck at the lobby. I push the button three more times, angry at the people who selfishly keep them occupied. I’d rather have some more traffic on the way home than wait for the elevator in these boots.
Suddenly, I feel a strong grip on my arm, and a hand covers my mouth. My senses haven’t been wrong. Whoever is gripping
me doesn’t have benign intentions and moves the hand that was holding my arm toward my neck. Terror washes over me as I remember the killing scenes in the movies and how easy it is to kill someone with just a twist of the neck. However, he’s too strong for me to even move a hand, let alone break free from his iron grip.
I inhale deeply and try to scream, although his salty hand is firmly covering my mouth. My voice is too low, especially for the people in the lobby to hear. If the elevator arrives, the doorman might hear me through its open doors. But, the fucking elevator is more stubborn than the hands holding me caged and paralyzed.
The attacker now squeezes my throat and covers both my mouth and nose, leaving me no chance to breathe. My lungs burn without air, and my stomach revolts at the disgusting salty taste of his sweaty hand. If I can’t think of a way out, these will be my last seconds.
I always imagined I’d welcome death, if it came, after Jack was gone. His absence was too painful to even think of living a long life. But, it’s not that way. Even though I wished I’d die and finally re-unite with Jack, now all I want is to dig my fingers in and hold on to life with all my power.
In a matter of seconds, my already insignificant existence will cease. Will anyone remember me after five years? Ten years? I won’t be able to leave a child behind, someone who would come to my grave and beautify it with flowers, nor a piece of art that would allow me to continue living in people’s minds. I will be a nothing. And for a strange reason, the nothingness makes me think about my boots and their high and heavy heels.
I lift my right foot and slam it directly on the attacker’s foot. He jerks back and hauls me down to the floor. Taking advantage of my suddenly free airway, I inhale a deep breath and begin screaming my ears deaf, earning me an excruciating punch in my stomach.
“Shut the fuck up,” the attacker yells at me as he pulls me up. His face is scarier than any man I’ve come close to. Deep scars and dark tattoos cover the majority of his face. He slaps me with so much force that I fly back down onto the floor, and he begins kicking me. I taste blood as I double over to protect myself from his kicks, in vain.
Pleasure Extraordinaire 2 (PURSUIT) Page 16
