by Lily Foster
“You’re terrible.”
“Back to the logo? I was thinking with the black and white dress image you have already, you could write the company name in red in a font that looks like stitching with a needle dangling at the end.”
“I don’t want to make this,” she gestured around the room, “seem like more than it is. I’m hardly getting any orders.”
“You will and once it takes off you’ll need to hook up with manufacturers. You can’t keep custom making every order, Kasia.”
“I like your confidence in me.”
“I have nothing but confidence in you. With the logo, though? I have someone who’s a really talented graphic artist. Can I have her do a mock-up?”
“Dylan, you don’t have to do that, really.”
“I know but I want to. No pressure, though; I know this is your baby.”
“I’m not at the point where I can start paying people, Dylan.”
“Oh, I wasn’t angling for a salary, Kasia,” I teased. “And as for the graphic designer, she’s already well compensated by Cole Industries so don’t worry about her. And before you say no, this job will probably take her all of twenty minutes, ok?”
She looked uneasy but smiled. “Ok. If you’re sure it’s no problem.”
Kasia
“Wednesday lunch three weeks in a row? This is becoming like Wednesdays With Dylan…maybe we should write a book.”
“Typically for me that would be a juicy, erotica novel but since we’re just friends this will be a book made into a nice, chaste,” he made a nauseated face, “buddy flick.”
“Ouch! You know I’m sensitive about being cast as the boring, old seamstress.”
He looked at me like he wanted to devour me and then shook his head. “You’re definitely not boring, Kasia. If you were, I wouldn’t be following you around like a puppy.”
“I can’t figure you out, Dylan.”
We had just finished eating gyros he’d gotten from a Greek place off-campus, both of us sitting on the lawn across from my dorm. He rested back onto the grass with one arm behind his head and looked absently up at the clouds. “What is it about me, Kasia?” He looked at me then, pained. “What is it that makes you scared of me?” When I didn’t say anything he added, “It’s not just that big man on campus, frat house, lacrosse guy-crap you fed me.” I said nothing. “Please, Kasia. I really want to know. I need to know.”
I didn’t want to get into it but at the same time I needed to hear his side of things—to know who he was. I swallowed, took a deep breath and just put it out there. “Sophomore year I was at a party at your place.” Dylan pinched his eyes closed for a moment like he was bracing himself. “I guess I’d been watching you. I saw you talking to some girl and her boyfriend. It almost looked like you had someone purposely distract him and then you were really pouring it on with the girl. A few minutes later I saw you take her upstairs.” I poked him, “It’s not like I was standing in one spot watching your every move—I happened to be talking to someone near the staircase and you caught my eye as you came back downstairs about ten minutes later. She didn’t look disheveled or anything, just a little flushed and…guilty. You looked…smug. Maybe I’d gotten it all wrong but it looked to me as if you’d taken her upstairs and…” I waited for him to fill in the blanks for me but he just stared up at the clouds. “Maybe I assumed incorrectly but if you did, then…well, it just seemed sinister…devious, you know?”
“It was.”
“Why would you do that, Dylan?”
He laid his forearm over his eyes. “Can you really handle hearing why?”
“I don’t know but,” I tousled his hair to lighten the mood, “if I’m your friend then I want to be able to handle it.”
By then I was lying down next to him on my side, my elbow propping me up. He rolled over onto his side and looked at me as if he was asking for understanding before he spoke. He took a deep breath. “The first time I did that I’d just turned sixteen.” He laughed harshly in response to my wide-eyed reaction. “Don’t look shocked, Little Kah-zjah, or else I won’t be able to tell you.” He flopped down on his back again. “I’m an only child, Crown Prince of Cole Industries, as you said. I grew up idolizing my father. He was like this uber-powerful, confident, but nice guy.”
“Reminds me of someone I know.”
He smiled at me and teased, “A compliment, Kasia? Don’t hurt yourself.”
“That’s not fair, Dylan. You know I think you’re a good person.”
“Sorry, I’m being a jerk. Anyway, I worshipped my dad. I loved going to his office and hearing him command business meetings—decisive and fair but iron-fisted. I knew from a young age that everything I had, the luxury box seats at the stadiums, the first class travel, the homes, the staff that took care of all the little mundane aspects of our lives; it was all because of him. And the way he treated my mother?” He looked to me again but his expression was filled with sorrow. “He made it seem like she was his world. Sometimes I’d catch them dancing or kissing when they thought I was in my room. I mean, at first I thought that was gross but then when you’re about thirteen, fourteen and you start to notice how distant and cold some of your friends’ parents are, then you start to appreciate it, you know what I mean?”
“So, I’m just turning fifteen and my dad makes plans to take me to a Ranger game. I was supposed to be there at five but I ditched my last two classes and caught an early train to the city from Connecticut. Get there about an hour or so before I’m expected. I breeze right by the first receptionist and head back to the office. My dad’s personal secretary wasn’t at her desk though, and I’d typically wait to be let in. I’d met her once before; she was probably no more than twenty-two, just out of college. I wait a few minutes and then I’m impatient.” I felt him look towards me but I was focused on picking blades of grass; all of a sudden I felt sick for him. “So you know how this story goes, right Kasia?” When I nodded, still averting my gaze he went on, barely getting the words out, “I felt like…it was…”
When I looked over he’d covered his face again with his forearm. I ran my fingers through his hair, trying to soothe him. “Hey.”
He took a deep breath then and when he uncovered his face there was a perfectly composed, easy smile there. “A year later, new secretary, definitely hired for the assets he appreciated; this time I had her bent over his desk. It didn’t matter that he probably never found out—I knew that I could take what was his. And so it goes. I couldn’t confront him, couldn’t hate him, couldn’t walk away, so I did my own little lame rebellion.”
“After that I became more aware; I watched how he was with women—how smooth he was. I realized he was a cheating bastard. It was all a farce.”
“What was a farce?”
“Happy ever after, love, my parents’ marriage. And I didn’t really care then. I looked at it as a game, like a challenge—the riskier, the better.”
“I don’t think you really believe that.”
He took a deep breath. “I don’t.” He rolled over onto his stomach and pushed himself up to a stand before he looked down and stretched a hand down to pull me up. “I shouldn’t have told you all that, Kasia.” He looked at his phone and then looked away when he told me he had to get to class.
“Dylan, don’t do that.”
He raised his eyebrows and smirked. “Do what?”
I didn’t know what to say or how to reach him. He was back to being an arrogant prick—he had that act down to a science. After a moment his expression softened again. “I shouldn’t have told you because I don’t think you’re going to be able to get past that.” He smiled at me tenderly then. “I wouldn’t blame you. I think we’re from different worlds, mine decidedly more jaded.”
I bumped his shoulder. “I’ve been around jaded my entire life. I like jaded.”
Dylan was gone by then; lost in his own thoughts. His hands were stuffed into his jacket pockets as we walked back. When we approached my dorm he broke the
uncomfortable silence with, “See you later, Kasia,” before he turned and walked away without a glance back.
It was Wednesday. His frat always threw the biggest Halloween party, which was now only two days away. Guessed an invite was not coming my way.
Bernadette, Trish, and Valerie were all crammed into my room Thursday night picking through their costume-shop purchases and requesting I make alterations; Val’s zombie-angel outfit needed to be a bit sluttier, apparently, and Bernie’s punk rock chick outfit needed some slashes cut into it to show more skin. Even Trish, usually the most prudent of our group, was wearing a roller derby costume with shorts that practically exposed her cheeks. What was it about Halloween that turned normal, good girls into bimbos? As Trish stood peering over her shoulder at her ass in the mirror she whined, “Kasia, you have to come!”
“Yeah, Kasia,” Bernadette said as she flopped on my bed. “You know he wants you there.”
“He didn’t mention the party and anyway, I don’t want to go.”
“You’re going to stay home?” Valerie took my hand in hers and looked at me intently. “Come with me and Cooper. I promise we won’t leave your side. If it’s not fun, I’ll bail with you.”
“No, Val, you go with Cooper. I’m good.”
I was so not good and they all knew it. After Bernadette and Trish left, Valerie set about painting her toenails as I finished shortening the hem on her flimsy white dress. “Val, I’m surprised you’re pushing me to go. I know you don’t think much of Dylan.”
“I’m not going to say I fully endorse him, Kasia, I don’t. But he does seem like he cares about you. Anyway, who am I to judge? I’m certainly not perfect.”
I smiled at my friend, grateful for her support, but I was somber and couldn’t shake it. “Val, something happened the other day. He let me in, told me some things that were…personal. He’s backed away since.”
“So go to him.”
“What if I go there and I see that other side of him,” I shook my head. “I’m afraid of coming face to face with Dylan Cole, Lothario.”
“What’s the worst you could imagine?”
I cringed as I thought of him pressed up against someone, kissing them. “Seeing him hook-up with some random girl in front of me.”
She nodded, looking at me intently. “That’s the worst?”
I nodded.
“If that’s what you see—and you very well might—then I guess you’ll know to run before you get in too deep.”
Dylan
The house was buzzing with activity. Area rugs were being rolled up, the couches were pushed to the outer edges of the large rooms, kegs were being iced in big, industrial garbage cans, and the younger brothers were doing a good job of making the place into a quasi-haunted house. Every surface was draped in black, skeletons hung from the ceiling, and there was a fog machine creating a creepy vibe.
By ten o’clock there were more semi-naked people crammed into our house than on any other night of the year; sexy kittens, bad angels, naughty cheerleaders. The guys were no better; we had a few Baby New Years, two Hugh Hefners, and several cavemen. I was feeling out of it this year and managed to just throw on some board shorts and flip flops—lazy surfer dude.
I made the rounds at the party; I wasn’t totally anti-social but I wasn’t into the drunken scene tonight. The sloppy guys spilling their beers irked me and I wanted to slap away hands that random girls were placing on my chest as they made a play for me. Trish skated over to me at one point and that was the first laugh I had of the night, as she practically broke her neck trying to come to a turning stop in front of me. “Roller skates and drinking don’t mix,” she giggled as I held her up.
“No, I’d say they don’t.”
“Hey,” she whined—clearly buzzed, “Why didn’t you invite Kasia?”
Why hadn’t I? Basically, I couldn’t face her after the shit I’d spilled the other day. She played the role of understanding friend well but I feared that, deep-down, she was really disgusted. And the worst of it was that I was pretty certain I was in love with her—I wasn’t altogether comfortable with that feeling. I shrugged. “She knows she’s invited, Trish, everyone is. Where is she?”
“Home, probably moping,” she said with an exaggerated frown.
With that Brian came over and lifted Trish up into the air. Up and down, up and down he lifted her; I’m sure he was liking how her goodies were shaking in her tube top because I was admiring them myself. Brian shouted above the din of the crowd, “Roller girl, you look hot!”
Trish slapped his chest and smiled as she squealed the most half-hearted protest. “Put me down, Brian!”
Fuck it, I thought, I was being a jerk. I grabbed some cat ears off a girl by the front door—she didn’t even notice—and walked out of the house. My plan was to go to Kasia and get her to come back with me. I was, after all, supposed to be her friend.
I wasn’t ten feet down the path when my eyes came upon a leggy blond in high-heeled, knee-high, black leather boots, tight black leather shorts and a black top that looked like a second skin. What a body. Kasia’s hair hung in loose waves around her face and lip gloss was the only make-up she wore. It was like a contrast between sin and innocence. “Where are you going, Dylan?” Her voice was barely more than a whisper.
“Holy shit…Kasia? I-I was coming to get you.” I could barely speak, my chest felt tight, and my mouth was hanging open. “You’re here.”
“I am,” she said as she took a step closer to me.
“I didn’t think you’d come.”
She took another tentative step towards me and looked me straight in the eye. “I wasn’t going to but then I was sitting home thinking of all these girls in their slutty outfits and…I didn’t want you touching any of them.”
Fuck, my mouth was so dry I could hardly get the words out. I practically stammered, “I wouldn’t. I didn’t. I don’t want any of them.”
I don’t ever recall being less smooth in my entire life. She was a mere foot away from me now as she breathed, “Who do you want, Dylan?”
I practically growled as I backed her against the brick wall of the poorly-lit neighboring house, “I want you. You know I want you.” I crushed my mouth to hers and she moaned against me as I pressed myself between her legs. “Fuck, Kasia, I’ve never wanted anyone like I want you.”
She wrapped one leg around my waist, pulling me into her. I grabbed her ass and pressed myself closer; the feeling of her against me…I was dying to be inside of her. We went on like that, kissing each other, fucking with our clothes on, for a few minutes when she lowered her head. “Dylan,” she panted, “we need to stop. I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
I let out a few ragged breaths as I lowered my forehead against hers. “Don’t say sorry, Kasia,” I kissed her slowly then and lowered her leg, “I shouldn’t be mauling you out here where anyone could see.” I willed my member to behave as I backed away from her a few inches but held her face in my hands. “I’m so glad you’re here, Kasia. I’ve been feeling so messed up since Wednesday…needing you.”
She looked uncertain, “I think I need you too,” and she smiled when I laughed at that.
“Come on,” I took her hand as I led her back into the house. “I want to show you off and prove to you that I’m now well behaved at social events.”
People were dancing, carrying on, and most were fairly drunk by then but eyes were definitely on us as we came back into the house. Trish squealed Kasia’s name and waved us over. “Look at you! What a cute couple you make!”
I laughed but Kasia cringed. “Trish, shut up!”
“Hey, Brian, I’m going to get Kasia a drink. She’s not out of your sight, ok?”
He looked her up and down, taking in the outfit, realizing the likelihood of some guy trying to have at her. He nodded at me, completely serious then. “No one comes near her, Dylan.”
As I made my way into the kitchen I was stopped first by Melanie. She raised her eyebrow and smiled.
“Who’s the dominatrix? Christian and I could be into a little fun and games later if you’re interested.”
“Never, Melanie. She’s not like that.” Fuck. There were times I wanted to erase entire years of my life and start over.
“That’s a pity,” Melanie said as she took my chin in her hand, forcing me to look at her. I shook her off.
Justin was next. “Dylan, I just saw that girl, Kasia—the one from the picture? She’s here. She looks hot.”
My hand tightened on the bottle I was pouring from. “She’s with me, Justin. No one says a fucking word to her. Make sure that’s understood, ok?”
He waggled his eyebrows. “Nice score, Cole.”
“No score, Justin, she’s a friend of mine.”
“Very interesting.”
Bringing her here no longer seemed like a good idea. I was relieved when I made my way back and saw Brian with Trish and Kasia practically caged in between his massive body and the stairs. “Here you go,” I said as I handed her a vodka cranberry. “I wasn’t sure what you like to drink, Kasia.”
She met my eyes and smiled at me like we shared a secret. “This is good.”
With that, Trish’s skates slid out in front of her and Brian caught her right before her ass hit the floor. She giggled, “I think I better skate on home.”
Brian held her up around her waist. “You’re not going anywhere alone dressed like that, sweetie. I’m taking you home.”
There was definitely a love connection happening there and Kasia was amused looking at her friend and the boy who was obviously smitten with her. As they made their way out I took Kasia’s hand. “Can your private security detail escort you upstairs?” I immediately held up my hand as I explained, “I’m not looking for anything to happen, Kasia, I just want to be with you and away from everyone else.”
She nodded and I led her upstairs. The air was buzzing between us as we stood outside my bedroom door. “Kasia, I mean it, nothing is happening tonight. I’m not looking for that, alright?”
“Relax, Dylan,” Kasia said as we walked into the room. She sat on my bed and started to undo her boots. I watched as her delicate fingers slid the long zipper down her leg once and then again. She looked up at me then and smiled shyly. “I do feel a little ridiculous in this outfit, though. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
