by Tabatha Kiss
“Fine, but don’t pretend like we’re just a bunch of selfish rich people who never think of others.” He sits back. “My father tied his life to your mother’s. And hell, when you asked me for help, I gave you a job.”
“Okay, fine! I get it. I’ll go to the damn birthday party.” I spit the words out as if they were acid.
Zeke stands up. “Thank you. Meet me here at eight and we’ll go together.”
“I’ll just meet you there—”
“Rocky,” he interrupts. “Meet me here.”
Saturday night. I think of all the things I’d rather be doing than going to my stepfather’s birthday party. The list includes being strapped to a chair and tortured to death while dunking my hands in an aquarium full of piranhas.
“Honey, I am so glad you’re coming tonight!” my mother purrs into the phone. “I just can’t wait to tell everyone that you’re coming back!”
I cringe. “I’m not coming back, Mom,” I say, looking myself up and down in the spotted mirror at my apartment. I wear a pair of black slacks and an old, white blouse — literally the nicest clothing I currently own. “It’s business.”
“I told you your brother would give you a job,” my mother says. “Do you like it so far?”
“It’s fine. I have to get going. I’ll see you later tonight.”
“Do not be late, Rockette,” she warns. “I have people I want to introduce you to.”
I hang up the phone and stare at my reflection for a few more moments. I think long and hard about what Zeke said the other day. Maybe I have been too hard on the Belmont family. They took me and my mother in when we had nothing and gave us a home. I went to a good, private high school, which directly influenced me getting into the university of my choice. Am I being too naive by cutting them out of my life completely? I absolutely hate the idea of taking something I did not earn, but maybe I can cut them a little more slack for a while.
“Hey, Ramone!”
I pause just outside my door. “Marty!” I force enthusiasm as I spot my landlord charging up the stairs toward me. “I was just about to come and find you!”
“Oh? Was it to give me the rent you owe?”
I smile and fix my eyes on the small, rotund man. “Actually, I was going to tell you that I just got a job. A really good one and I should have the money for you very, very soon.”
“I don’t know, Ramone,” Marty starts. “I just don’t think this is—”
“Marty, come on. I promise.” I step away from the door. “I’ll have the money real soon, okay?”
I bolt past him, ignoring the sound of his voice attempting to argue with me. I can feel his eyes following me down the stairs as I run down to street level.
I catch a cab downtown to Belmont Tower. It’s nearly eight in the evening and the cold air chills my nervous body. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest, my blood shooting through my body. I scratch at my arms, feeling the bugs crawling beneath my skin. A cold dread follows me the entire time, but I try to ignore it.
“Good evening, Ms. Ramone.” The doorman greets me with a smile. “Mr. Belmont is expecting you upstairs.”
“Thank you, Quincy,” I say as he opens the door for me. I’d been in and out of this hotel multiple times this week, but I still feel painfully out of place. It’s Saturday night and the lobby is packed with people. A private party is being held behind the large, golden doors at the other end of the entrance hall. A large man with a clipboard guards the doors, only allowing those lucky enough to be on his list inside. I slip past the fray and board the elevator. No matter how many times I climb this thing, my stomach always churns with each passing floor.
I reach the penthouse and knock on the door. After a few moments, Zeke answers. My breath catches in my lungs as I look at him. He’s dressed in a bold, black tuxedo with an untied bow tie lying about his neck.
“You’re early,” he says, his fingers adjusting his collar.
“Most people would see that as a good thing,” I say as I step inside.
“It is. Go to the bedroom.”
“What?” I ask, my cheeks feeling warm and pink.
“Your dress is hanging on the back of the door. The shoes are on the bed.”
“My what? I’m already dressed…” I say, gesturing to my outfit.
“Yeah, I figured,” Zeke says. His fingers move quickly as he wraps the tie around his neck and ties it into a perfect bow. “That’s why I asked you to meet me here.”
“Son-of-a-bitch,” I say.
Zeke chuckles. “Just go throw it on. I’m pretty sure it’ll fit.”
There’s no point in arguing. I do as requested and step into the hallway. “Which room?” I call out.
“Last on the left.”
I continue walking, making note of each room as I glide past the open doorways. A bathroom on the right. A fitness room to the left. All the way down until I come to the end of the hall. The bedroom door is wide open and I step inside. Once again, a room greets me that looks like it was torn out of a catalog. Paintings hang on every wall. Books line the shelves, most of which appear very used, their spines showing multiple creases. His king-sized bed is cloaked with a shiny, black duvet and satin sheets to match.
A black box a little smaller than a shoe box catches my eye, sitting on his nightstand. I recognize it immediately. It was a gift from his mother, his real mother. Zeke always told me not to touch it. I once asked him what he kept inside it. He looked at the floor and said, ‘my darkest secret.’
The black box is locked shut with a padlock. I stare at it, my mind buzzing with possibilities.
“Find it?”
I jump at the sudden sound of his voice, calling from down the hall. “Yep!” I answer.
I look behind the door to find the dress. It’s a delightful shade of sapphire blue and perfectly elegant in every way. The first sight of it takes my breath away. The black rock that settled in my gut the day I took this job grows two more sizes. I don’t want to put it on out of principle. But I know that I’ll never be able to help myself.
I unbutton my blouse and strip naked in the empty room. Zeke must have an eye for sizes. I step into the dress and it hugs my body as I pull it up over my shoulders. I step away from the door and stand in front of the full-length mirror in the corner and stare at myself.
I never thought I’d come back to this, I thought to myself. The world of cocktail parties and trust funds.
“That’s more like it.”
My heart flutters at the sound of his voice. Zeke steps into the room, his eyes glued to my body.
“You were right,” I say, looking at his reflection. “It fits.”
Zeke steps behind me, his hands rushing toward my back. “Just one more thing…”
The gentle buzz of the zipper shoots up my back like an easy chill. The dress clings to me tighter but still seduces my curves.
“Perfect,” he says, his hands landing on my shoulders. “I’d call someone up about your hair, but we’re a little short on time…”
“My hair is fine,” I say, raising an eyebrow.
“Sure it is,” he says with a devilish smirk. “Let’s get going. Don’t forget the shoes.”
“Rockette, you look wonderful!”
My mother pulls me into her arms and I immediately feel the struggle to breathe. “Hi — Mom —” I squeak out. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Zeke’s grin and shoot him a cold stare.
The ballroom is decorated in gold — always gold at a Belmont party — and is packed from wall-to-wall with Mason Belmont’s closest confidants and business associates. I recognize a few faces right off the bat but most blur into the crowd.
“Zeke,” my mother looks at him as she breaks our hug. “Thank you for getting her here.”
“It was my pleasure, Gloria,” he says as he scoops her hand and plants a kiss on her fingers.
“I don’t like this,” I say.
“Don’t like what, dear?” my mother asks.
“I do
n’t like the two of you in cahoots.”
My mother bursts into laughter. She arches her back with exaggerated flair. “Oh, Rockette, leave your paranoia at the door, please. For heaven’s sake, this is a party.”
“Yeah, Rockette,” Zeke chimes in. “Lighten up.”
“Don’t call me that,” I say out of the corner of my mouth.
My mother moves around me and intertwines her arm with mine. “Now, come with me. I have some people I want to introduce you to…”
“Have fun, Rocky,” Zeke whispers in my ear.
I look over my shoulder at him as she pulls me into the crowd. I feel a desperate need to escape, a childish urge to reach out to him in the hope that he pulls me to safety.
But my heart sinks as I see a pretty young woman step up behind him. Long, brown hair. Stunning blue eyes. A gorgeous, green dress that puts my own to shame. She throws her hands over his eyes in a playful game of Guess Who.
Zeke smiles and she greets him with a kiss.
Six
Zeke
I lean back, breaking her kiss.
“Hey, Madison,” I say, pressing my lips together. “What’s up?”
She cocks her head. “What’s wrong?” she asks.
“Nothing.”
I glance around the growing crowd, looking for Rocky. I find her at the other end of the room with her mother, her face twisted into a forced, polite smile as she shakes some douche’s hand.
“Nothing and nobody.”
I turn to Madison. “What?”
She pouts. “That’s all I’ve gotten from you this last week. Nothing and nobody.”
“Sorry,” I say. “Just not feeling well tonight. Don’t want to get you sick.”
Her arms rise to rest on my shoulders. “Well, I don’t mind a few sniffles,” she says, leaning in for my lips again.
“You want a drink?” I ask, taking a step back. “My throat’s dry.”
“Sure.”
“Be right back.”
One awkward dodge down. I’d guess a few dozen left to go tonight but that might be a little optimistic.
I take the long way around, pausing to greet a few of my father’s friends and business associates as I go. Or, I guess they’re my business associates, too, but knowing that doesn’t make recalling their names any easier.
I finally reach the bar and order two Jack and Cokes. As the bartender does his thing, I perform another quick scan of the room. My eyes quickly land on Rocky, drawn to her as if she were the only lighthouse for miles in a vast, unending ocean.
My heart skips. Christ, still? After all this time, all these years, it still reacts the exact same way whenever I see her smile?
But that smile isn’t for me.
It’s for some other prick her mother is obviously dangling her on some hook for.
The bartender sets down my drink and I throw it back, downing half the glass in one gulp.
“Give it to me.”
I flinch, my eyes quickly finding Madison standing beside me. “What?” I ask.
She extends her hand. “That’s my drink, right?”
“Oh!” I grab the second glass and slide it over to her. “Right...”
Madison furrows her brow but doesn’t say a word, thankfully.
Seven
Rocky
It’s just one night, I remind myself. One. Night.
The people my mother wants to introduce me to all have one thing in common: They are all young, eligible bachelors. Subtlety has never been my mother’s strongest suit.
By the third potential mate, I have completely forgotten their names. I spend most of the night looking over my shoulder and watching some strange girl’s hands wander around Zeke’s body.
There is no reason for it to bother me so much. But each time I see it, my stomach churns. I try to ignore it and lend an ear to whatever handsome specimen my mother was attempting to pawn me off on at any given moment, but my boredom level spikes quickly.
“Excuse me,” I say politely. “I need to use the ladies’ room.”
I pull myself away from the crowd and scan the room for an exit. I take quick steps toward it, ignoring my mother’s cries for attention.
I finally reach the hallway and pause to take a big gulp of fresh air, happy to be free from the stuffy ballroom.
“Holy shit, Rocky Ramone?”
My ears perk up and I turn my head toward the familiar voice. My jaw drops and I smile wide. “Logan?” I ask.
Logan Foster’s arms shoot around my body and he gives me a tight squeeze. “Well, this is a surprise! Gloria told me you’d be here, but I didn’t believe it!”
I laugh in his ear. “It’s so good to see you!” My words are genuine. Of all the people I left behind when I moved away from the Belmont family, I miss Logan the most. He’s not part of the family, technically, but for all the time he spent at the mansion growing up, you’d think he was.
I pull away and look up into his big, brown eyes. “You look good!” I say, glancing down his body.
“Forget about me! Look at you!” he says. “Don’t let Becky see this dress, she’s likely to throw a fit.”
“Why?” I ask.
He drops his voice to a whisper. “Because you look hotter than she does!”
“Stop it!” I tease, slapping his shoulder. “I didn’t even want to wear it.”
“Sure you didn’t.”
“Are you two still together?”
“Always and forever,” he says plainly.
Logan and Becky first started dating in middle school, the kind of on-again-off-again playground romance you’d expect. This started plenty of drama within the family. Zeke and Logan were best friends and Zeke didn’t like the idea of his best friend fooling around with his baby sister and Mason didn’t like that Logan had an all-access pass to his house, including Becky’s bedroom.
“Not married yet?”
Logan rolls his eyes. “Believe me, I’ve tried.”
“She doesn’t want to?” I ask, genuinely shocked. I recall how Becky used to talk about getting married as soon as possible.
“No, she does. I think…” Logan says. “She’s just…”
“Ambitious?” I finish his sentence.
He chuckles. “That would be the polite way to say it, yes.”
“Well, it’ll all work out in the end,” I say. “It always does with you two.”
“Right,” he agrees, looking me up and down.
“Hey…” I begin, seeing an opportunity. I step toward the ballroom entrance, pulling Logan with me. “Who’s the girl with Zeke?”
Logan peeks around the doorway and follows my gaze. “Oh, that’s Madison.”
“Madison?”
“Yep,” Logan says. “Madison.”
“What’s a Madison?” I ask.
“I’m not sure what a Madison is,” he answers. “But they’ve been inseparable since June.”
“Really?” I think about the last few days and find it odd that Zeke never mentioned her once.
Logan reaches out and gives my arm a light punch. “Now, what’s this all about? I thought you two were over this.”
I step away from the entrance, making room for a waiter with a drink tray. “Over what?” I ask.
Logan grabs a glass of champagne off the tray as the waiter passes by us. He brings it to his lips and gives it a taste before answering. “Over what happened that summer before you left.”
I stare at his eyes, my mind drawing a total blank.
“You don’t remember?” he asks.
“No…”
Logan shrugs his shoulders. “I’m not surprised. You were pretty wasted that night.”
I lean in closer, trying very hard to bring the memories back. But they’re lost in my head, refusing to come forth and answer all my questions. “What happened, Logan?”
Logan takes a step back. “Never mind, Rocky. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“No, please, Logan,” I reach out and touch his wris
t. “What happened?”
“It’s probably better that you don’t remember, Rocky.”
“Logan!”
The shrilling sound of Becky Belmont’s voice fills my ears. I feel her presence next to my shoulder. She’s standing a little too close for comfort, like a mother tigress whose territory had been invaded by predators. I turn to face her and catch her expression as it changes from angry annoyance to happy surprise.
“Oh, it’s just you! Hi, Rocky!” Becky throws her arms around me in an awkward hug.
“Hey, Becky.” I smell her expensive perfume immediately wafting out of her long, blonde locks and try to hold my breath until she breaks away from me.
“I’m sorry about that. I thought you were some two-bit hussy trying to steal my Logan.” She steps over to Logan and forces his arm around her petite waist. She wears a black and gold — always gold — dress that cuts off just below her knees. Logan was right. Mine is better.
“Oh, I could never do that,” I say, my annoyance growing inside of me. I hate her for interrupting us. I know that if I can get Logan alone again, I can make him spill the beans about that summer. There was some memory on the outskirts of my mind, lost in a drunken haze, and I’m determined to find out what it is.
“You look amazing, Rocky,” Becky says. “That dress is perfect. Where’d you get it?”
“I have no idea. Zeke got it for me,” I say.
“Oh, that’s right! Gloria told me you two were working together now. That’s so cute!”
I force a smile. Only Becky Belmont can make a word like ‘cute’ sound so sinister. I try not to think about the fact that she is most likely laughing at me on the inside.
You’re an assistant. How cute.
“Wow, my mother just likes to talk to everyone, doesn’t she?” I laugh.
“She’s just excited you’re back, that’s all,” Logan says. “We all are.”
“We should get lunch this week!” Becky shouts as if it’s the greatest idea that’s ever grown out of her brain.
“Well, I’m not really back…”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, there you kids are.”
