Don't Tell a Soul

by Travis Szablewski

  DON’T

  TELL

  A

  SOUL

  Travis Szablewski

  For all the ones that believed in me.

  And for all the ones that didn’t.

  Thank you.

  Good Girl Gone Bad

  Harper Van Der Bell's eyes slowly fluttered open. The bright morning sunlight shimmering through her yellow lace curtains felt like needles pricking again and again at her tired, red eyes. She struggled to search her mind for the memories of last night. The last thing she remembered, she was sitting at the Club Infinity bar with her best friend, Nicole. She felt the vodka shots and cherry bombs roll and turn in her stomach as the night slowly grew clearer and clearer inside of her head; the pieces of the puzzle slowly fitting together. The last time she had drunk that much had been...well, never. Harper was always the good girl of the group. Growing up, she always had her head either buried in the latest James Patterson novel or in an Advanced Calculus book studying for her upcoming tests. A twenty-four, but with the soul of a seventy-six-year-old woman. She was completely content with staying at home every single night, cuddled up with her cat, Beans, and binge-watching Grey's Anatomy for the third time this year.

  Harper slowly looked up at the ceiling, her eyes following the spinning blades of the ceiling fan above. She felt nauseous. As if all of her bad decisions last night were slowly creeping up her throat and were about to burst out at any given second. And then she felt it. The pressure along her naked stomach under the thick comforter...

  Harper slowly lifted the blanket...to see a long, tan muscular arm draped over her abdomen. Harper's eyes slowly widened. Who? What? When? The questions began to flood her brain as she slowly looked beside her...to see him. The man with no name. She had no idea who he was or where he came from. Did she take him home from the bar? She must have? Why the hell would Nicole let her do that? Harper wasn't the kind of girl to even go to a bar, let alone take random guys home; and this very uncomfortable situation was why.

  Harper studied his face. He was much older than her, but the years were clearly kind to him. His black, messy hair was tangled and matted to his head. His lips, perfectly curved. Long eyelashes, perfectly waxed eyebrows, beautiful olive skin. For her first one-night stand, he sure as hell wasn't bad...even for an older guy.

  Harper quickly looked away from the Greek God lying next to her as her mind struggled to find its way back to the nasty truth. She had a one-night stand. With a complete stranger. She felt so...dirty. As if the entire night was plastered against her skin. She wanted to wash it off. She wanted to watch the terrible deed circle the drain and disappear forever. No one would know. No one could know. Harper...she was better than this. How could she sink to such a disgusting level? A few vodka shots were all it took? Was she that dumb and naive?

  Harper slowly wrapped her hand around the man's wrist and gently placed it by his side. She waited...anticipating his eyes to shoot open. But no. He continued to sleep. His back, rising and falling as the sunlight danced along his glowing skin.

  Harper slowly pushed the blanket off of her and stood up. She didn't know what to do in a situation as sticky as this one. Should she wake him? Tell to get the hell out? The questions swam through her head over and over...but the pounding behind her forehead interrupted every answer before it could swim to the surface.

  Harper slowly pulled on a pair of black yoga pants and her old high school sweater as she made her way towards the bedroom door. She had to get out of this room. The air smelt stale. So, this is what a night of drunken, slutty, dirty sex felt like...and smelt like.

  The wooden stairs creaked under Harper's bare feet as she slowly tip toed down them and into the foyer of her two-story apartment. Harper was too scared to wake him; too scared to stare back into the eyes of the man, the stranger, that she had just invited into her home and right into her bed.

  Harper made her way towards the coffee maker along the counter as she entered the kitchen. If she couldn't find the courage to wake him up, then she had to make this as less awkward as possible. Harper slowly grabbed her favorite mug, the one her grandmother had gotten her last year for her birthday and sat it onto the counter as she poured the hot, steaming coffee into it.

  "Hey..."

  A deep voice echoed through the large kitchen as Harper looked to the doorway with wide eyes. The man with no name stood in the doorway as he struggled to button up his black dress shirt.

  "Oh, is that coffee?" he asked as he grabbed Harper's mug from the counter and took a long sip.

  "Uh...yeah," Harper said, the words crashing into each other inside of her throat.

  "God, good to know you make good coffee," the man giggled as he sat the mug down and planted a kiss onto Harper's cheek. What in the hell was going on? Did they fly to Vegas and get married or something? Harper quickly glanced down at her fingers...no ring. Thank God...

  "Uh...thanks," Harper said softly as she stared at the man. She didn't know what to say. She felt frozen. Is this how a usual one-night stand ended? Small talk and coffee? Shouldn't he already be in his car? What the hell was this guy's deal?

  "I actually gotta head out. I'm already late for a meeting. Do you want to go to dinner tomorrow night?" the man asked as he placed his strong hands onto Harper's waist. She wanted to say no. She had to say no. But his deep, blue eyes gazed into her own. She could feel them, pulling her in. His strong fingers gripping tightly around her waist. She could feel herself melting in his hands.

  "Uh...sure," Harper said, her voice trembled as she felt his hands slowly tighten around her waist.

  "Good; then it's a date. I gotta get going though. I'll call you later," the man said as he gently placed a kiss on Harper's lips and darted towards the doorway. Harper stood there, frozen in shock. The sound of the front door slam shut knocked Harper out of her trance.

  Harper slowly leaned against the island bar. Where did that come from? There's no way this guy was decent. I mean, she met him at the bar. He came home with her. He was that guy. But then again, maybe she should give him a chance. He did seem rather sweet. And that kiss…

  No. She couldn't. She didn't even know him. She already felt violated. This already felt all wrong on so many levels...but why...why did she want more? Harper slowly turned as she exhaled, creating a pros and cons list inside her head. That's when she saw the clock on the far wall. Harper's eyes widened, and her heart began to race. She totally forgot about the interview at the Livingston house. She had never met them before...but from what she heard down the nanny grapevine...they paid better than any other family in the small town of Briar Grove.

  "Crap! Crap! Crap!" Harper cried as she rushed up the staircase and back into her bedroom. She ran inside, her hands trembled as she fumbled through the clothes hanging in her closet. "Where is it? Where is it?" Harper snapped as she searched for her black blouse.

  Harper finally found the blouse and quickly pulled it over her head. She dug through her dirty hamper, faster and faster; the clothes flew through the air and scattered along the floor. She finally settled on a pair of black slacks and snatched her keys from the nightstand. She had twenty minutes...twenty minutes to get across town.

  Harper sped through downtown Briar Grove and towards the prestigious gated subdivision of Tiger Lily Estates. Harper quickly ran a brush through her tangled hair, her other hand, tight on the wheel. Five minutes! She couldn't blow this!

  Harper finally pulled up to the tall, iron gate that surrounded the Tiger Lily Estates subdivision. She slowly rolled the window of her Honda Civic down as her eyes met with a tall, young security guard standing at the gate. Harper's eyes narrowed onto his name tag to see "PATRICK" in big, bold letters. He was cute. His dark brown eyes narrowed o
nto Harper as he slowly leaned down and peered in through the open window.

  "Hi, I'm here for an interview at the Livingston residence. It's for a nanny position," Harper said with a kind smile. She watched as two adorable dimples appeared along Patrick's cheeks. He adjusted his black hat as his eyes looked deep into Harper's.

  "Oh, so you're the new victim," Patrick laughed.

  "Are they that bad?" Harper giggled as she bit her lip nervously.

  "All I'll say is...the last girl didn't last very long," Patrick giggled as he nodded softly. "She wasn't as pretty as you, though," he added. Was he...flirting? Harper smirked as her cheeks grew rose red.

  "Probably wasn't as good at baking, either," Harper giggled. What the hell? First, she takes a random guy home. Now, she was flirting with a total stranger? What was happening to her? Where was this all coming from?

  "Well, my favorites are snicker doodle cookies, cheese cake, and pumpkin pie. You know, if you ever wanna walk out here to my little station and surprise me with a little treat," Patrick said as he placed both of his hands onto the door frame of Harper's car.

  "I'll remember that," Harper giggled. "But, really...give me the inside scoop. Help me out here. I really want this job," she added.

  "And I really want some cheese cake," Patrick smiled coyly as he slowly sat up straight and pushed a large button mounted along the edge of the fence. Harper looked forward through the windshield as the iron gates slowly creaked open. Harper giggled to herself as she looked to Patrick as he backed away slowly from her car. She watched as Patrick winked. "Good luck," Patrick added as he motioned towards the open gate.

  Harper blushed as she slowly put her car into drive and inched through the open gates and into the gated subdivision. Harper looked out through her window, amazed at the amazing and immaculate homes that surrounded her. Every lawn was trimmed to perfection. Every house, bigger than the last. Harper slowly eyed each of the numbers perfectly placed on each of the mailboxes in front of each estate. She then came to a stop; 1301...this was it. Harper slowly pulled her car into the driveway as she stared ahead at the huge house before her.

  The Livingston house was built of four stories. Two large balconies sat on the top floor, looking out the beautiful, lush lawn below. A large, stone water fountain stood in the center of the yard. A four-car garage stood ahead in the distance. It was a palace. It was a mansion.

  Harper slowly stepped out of her car as her heels crunched onto the gravel. Harper slowly ran her hands through her long, brown hair one last time as she clutched the folder containing her resume against her chest. This was it. This was her chance. She didn't want to count on her late father's fortune anymore. She wanted independence. She wanted to earn her money. And this...this was the perfect start. Harper slowly smoothed the front of her blouse down as she slowly struggled to catch her breath.

  "You got this, Harper. You can do this. Just breathe. Just breathe, and you'll be fine," Harper said to herself, struggling to calm her nerves. All she wanted to do was throw up. All she wanted to do was go back home and go to bed. But she needed this now more than ever. Harper took one last deep breath, reached forward...and pressed the doorbell.

  Harper listened closely as she heard the doorbell tune echo through the large house behind the bright red wooden door. This was it. This was her chance. The door handle turned, and Harper smiled her biggest, brightest smile as the front door slowly opened...

  Harper's body went numb. Her legs felt as if they were about to give out from under her. How could this happen? Was this some kind of sick twisted joke? This was a dream, right? This had to be a dream. This could not be real. This could not be happening.

  There he was...standing in the open doorway of the Livingston house. A toothbrush hanging out his mouth. His strong hands...the ones that were on her waist nearly twenty minutes ago...were tightening a tie around his neck. It was the man with no name. The man that was in her bed this morning...

  "What are you doing here?" Harper asked, her voice trembling.

  "What are you doing here?" the man asked as he slowly pulled the toothbrush out of his mouth.

  "Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Oh, my God!" Harper cried as she spun around and rushed away from the front door and down the walkway.

  "Whoa! Whoa! Hang on a second!" the man whispered as he rushed after Harper. Harper spun around, her fists clenched at her side.

  "Just when I thought I had sunk to my lowest! Just when I thought I was a filthy, dirty whore for taking a random guy home! But now that I find out that the random guy is married and has kids!" Harper snapped as her eyes burned into the fowl excuse of a man in front of her.

  "I should have told you; I know and I'm so sorry! I had no idea you were the nanny we were interviewing! I swear!" he said as his eyes stared into Harper's.

  "It doesn't make a difference! Either way, you're a cheater! And I'm...I'm the whore. I'm the dirty little secret. This...I...I have to go," Harper said as she struggled to hold the tears back.

  "Are you Harper?" a soft voice rang out from the open front door. Harper slowly turned to see a tall, beautiful older woman step out of the house and walk towards them. Her long, tan legs took long, hard strides as her Dolce & Gabbana pumps clicked along the concrete walkway. A short, red summer dress was wrapped tightly around her long, curvy figure. She tossed a long, curly blond mane of hair over her shoulder as she inched closer.

  "It is so good to finally meet you! I'm Elena Livingston," the beautiful woman said as she held out her polished hand. Harper hesitated. She could tell her everything and leave; ruin a marriage and a beautiful family. Harper juggled all of the possibilities inside of her head. She finally swallowed hard...and extended her hand.

  "Yes, I'm Harper; Harper Van Der Bell," she said with a soft smile as she shook Elena's hand.

  "My God, you are beautiful," Elena said as she flashed her bright smile. "And I can see you met my very late and unorganized husband, Grayson," Elena said as she placed her hand onto his chest. Grayson. Finally. A name to the face.

  "Yes, I have," Harper said as her eyes burned into Grayson.

  "He just got back into town from a business trip in Denver. So, excuse the toothpaste," Elena giggled as she wiped the white, crusty paste from the corner of Grayson's mouth.

  "Sorry, honey; I guess I just couldn't wait to meet Harper," Grayson said as he smiled to Harper. She wanted to punch him. She wanted to tackle him down to the ground and beat his face in with her fists. How could he cheat on such a beautiful, lovely woman? And his children...how could he live with himself for doing such vile things behind their mother's back?

  "Well, why don't you go upstairs and finish getting ready and I'll go ahead and show Harper around?" Elena said with a smile. Grayson slowly looked to Harper...and then to Elena.

  "Sure thing," Grayson said as he smiled and marched back into the house.

  "So, how about we start with a tour? Does that sound like a plan?" Elena said as she wrapped her arm around Harper's.

  "Sure...that sounds wonderful, Mrs. Livingston," Harper said politely.

  "Oh, please! Just call me Elena!" Elena said as she led Harper towards the open front door.

  "That sounds wonderful, Elena," Harper said softly. What in the hell had she gotten herself into? It was too late to back out now. It was too late to change her mind. She was already too far in. Harper slowly followed Elena into the Livingston house...and knew this would be unlike any other nanny gig she had ever had before; one that she would surely never forget...

  Daddy's Little Angel

  "Well, your credentials are amazing, and I really don't think we've met anyone else as amazing as you," Elena said as she placed Harper's resume in her lap and smiled.

  I fucked your husband. Those four little words kept circling Harper's head as she stared at Elena who was sitting across from her in the massive living room of the Livingston house. Harper's foot bounced up and down against the hardwood floor as she smiled softly; her nerves about to jump righ
t through her skin.

  "Thank you; I really appreciate that," Harper finally said. She had to keep it together. She needed this job. If she could pull of this whole nanny thing for this family, she could nanny for anyone in the whole town. The Livingston's had connections...very rich and profitable connections, far and wide. She could easily move to California or Washington and have a job in a single snap from Elena. She could finally get out of Briar Grove...she could finally see the world like she always dreamed of. She didn't want to be a prisoner here any longer. If that meant smiling and pretending, she knew nothing...then so be it.

  "So, I guess it's time for you to meet our little Rosie," Elena giggled as she stood up. Harper stood with her, her legs felt like Jell-O; as if they could give out and melt into puddles at any given second. She gathered her strength and followed Elena towards the grand staircase ahead.

  Harper walked beside Elena as they slowly began to crawl the massive stairs and up towards the second level of the Livingston mansion.

  "Grayson says Rosie looks more like him, but I think she is an exact replica of me," Elena giggled as she slid her soft hand along the smooth wooden railing of the stairs. "Now, I will warn you that is she is a bit shy. So, it might take her a while to warm up to you. But I think she'll really like you. You're very soft spoken...she takes well to that," Elena added as they stepped off of the stairs and walked down a long, dim hallway.

  "How old is she?" Harper asked as she wiped her sweaty palms against the front of her black slacks.

  "She's five and she'll be turning six in October. Grayson has been kind of worried about her the past few years. She had this imaginary friend named Goldie. She used to do everything with her. You know children and their strange ideas; their overactive imaginations. Well, one day Grayson noticed she wasn't talking or playing with Goldie anymore. He asked her why and she said...she died," Elena said, her voice grew softer and softer as they inched towards a door at the end of the long hallway.