The Beautiful People (The New Mafia Trilogy)

by Fechenda, E. J.

  “He did?” Grant seemed surprised, but his brow soon creased together again. He stopped talking as he pulled his Lexus up in front of my apartment building. I didn’t get out of the car.

  “Will you stop being so overprotective? I’m a big girl and can handle myself. Besides if you’re the ‘Head of Security’,” I emphasized this by making quotation marks with my fingers, “how much trouble can I get into?”

  Grant sighed, rubbing his hands over his face before looking at me. His face was a male version of mine with the same wide set hazel eyes, sharp cheekbones and full lips. We even had the same dark chestnut brown hair. He wore his short and slicked back, which emphasized his square jaw. Mine fell past my shoulders in thick waves.

  “I can’t fire you Nat and I am overprotective for a reason.” He raised an eyebrow when he said this.

  I knew Grant was referring to an episode that happened during my senior year of high school. Someone slipped rufies in my drink at the local dive bar in our hometown of York. I remembered taking a few sips and seconds later my body began to freak out. The room started spinning and I lost control of my limbs. I barely made it to the bathroom, where I collapsed in one of the stalls. I didn’t care about the dirty floor or the mystery puddle my knee was submerged in. Who worries about something like that when you think you’re dying? Somehow I managed to call Grant on my cell.

  I screamed something unintelligible into the phone, but he must have been able to understand. His prior experience with “Natalie in crisis” helped. I managed to tell him where I was and minutes later, he came barging into the ladies room. Thank God he was home on holiday break. Philly was a good three hours away from York and I don’t know what I would have done.

  He scooped me up off the floor and rushed me to the Emergency Room where they pumped my stomach, hooked me up to an IV and lectured me about my choices.

  Grant stayed by my side at the hospital and he insisted on paying right away. He gave the stunned receptionist $1,500 in cash and asked for the bill for any balance to be sent directly to him. I didn’t ask where he got the wad of bills he had in his pocket and he never said a word to our mom. This is when I began to learn we both had secrets to keep.

  Grant didn’t go back to Drexel after that winter break and began working full time at Crimson. He quickly moved up to Head of Security. When the time came for me to pick a college, I chose the closest art school to Grant. Even though I cleaned myself up after the rufies incident, he was handy to have around whenever I decided to have a damsel in distress moment.

  If our mom knew about half of the shit I had gotten into, shit Grant had bailed me out of, I would be in a convent. We sat in silence and he tapped his finger against the steering wheel – an indication he was thinking.

  Finally he said, “Alright, you’re only working there through graduation, the summer at the latest. Just keep a low profile, okay?”

  “I already agreed to that,” I reminded him before climbing out of the car.

  Just before I could shut the door Grant threw out another caveat. “Keep some distance between you and Dominic. He isn’t a good guy to get involved with.”

  “Grant, you said yourself that there isn’t a company policy in place about dating co-workers and I’m twenty-two years old. I’ll date who I want,” I said and slammed the door. He was not going to tell me who I could or couldn’t see. Typical Grant, he was always trying to act like my father.

  I marched up the stairs to the second floor, calming down after reaching the landing. By the time I stood in front of my apartment, I was laughing at myself about how I got all worked up over a guy. I was truly acting irrational over a drunk and brief encounter. Taking a deep breath and swallowing the laughter, so as not to disturb my roommate, I turned the key in the deadbolt and quietly pushed open the door. To my surprise the light in the living room was on, my roommate practically pounced on me.

  “Oh my God, how was your first night? Was it awesome? Did you see anyone famous?” I took a step back and laughed. Chelsea had taken her contacts out and wore her broken glasses, the same pair she’d had since eighth grade and which hung crookedly across her face; magnifying an already manic expression.

  Any remainders of the bad mood Grant had put me in quickly vaporized as I had a captive audience. I couldn’t wait to tell Chelsea about the club, leaving the part out about the gunshots though, having already had enough lectures for the night.

  “I am so jealous! What a freakin’ cool job. You are so lucky!” Chelsea declared. I sat back on the futon and agreed with her. “So, you didn’t see anyone famous?” Chelsea asked again.

  “No, but there’s some sort of NBA charity event next weekend.”

  Chelsea’s glasses almost fell off her face when her blue eyes bugged out, “No freakin’ way! Can I come?”

  I laughed again and yawned, “Maybe.”

  “Cool.” Chelsea smiled at me like I was a celebrity. Yeah, there was no way Grant could convince me to not work at Crimson.

  Chapter 3

  Crimson proved to be busier the next night and the guys grabby, again. At the end of my shift I made my way over to Dominic’s bar.

  “Hi Natalie,” he said as I approached.

  “Hi back.” Out of the corner of my eye I spotted Grant observing our exchange. Dominic seemed really uncomfortable which made me self-conscious and this bothered me. Why was I all of sudden concerned about how a guy felt? Sure I was physically attracted to Dominic, but there was something else lurking there under the surface I couldn’t place.

  “Did you want a drink?” he asked as he wiped the counter in front of me with a white towel that reeked of bleach, making my eyes burn. The wet surface reflected the blue and red lights that hung over the bar.

  “Sure, I’ll have a vodka tonic.” I enjoyed the view as he walked to the other end of the bar. Before he could catch me obviously checking him out, I turned my head. Grant stood off to the side frowning at me, most likely none too pleased I had ordered a drink.

  “So, do you think we’ll hang out in Britney’s car again tonight?” I asked after the alcohol instilled some courage.

  “I don’t know,” he answered and turned away. His distance bothered me again and I thought about it as I took another sip. I adhered to one self-imposed rule: don’t get attached. This was established six years ago, during my junior year of high school, after my last experience with a relationship. Toby Donovan was captain of the soccer team and also a gifted artist. We were in the same AP art class the first semester and he sat across from me. We spent hours using each other as models for sculpture, painting, you name it. He was different from the other guys I knew and we hung out on weekends. After soccer season, we started getting together during the week, despite harassment from his friends because I wasn’t in the right “circle”. One thing led to the other and we became an official couple. I felt so comfortable with him that when he asked me to pose nude for him, I did. No question.

  My mom raised me to not trust men. My father left us and she became a bitter, abandoned ex-wife. She had the tendency to be a cruel mother too. I spent my childhood trying to live up to her high expectations and failing miserably. Where Grant could do no wrong, I couldn’t do anything right. Toby helped me think about myself differently. When we made love for the first time, my first time, I never felt more wanted, appreciated and beautiful. With him, my insecurities disappeared.

  How quickly they returned though, when two months after I lost my virginity, I caught Toby hooking up with Marlene Perkins, co-captain of the cheerleading squad, at a party. The pain and humiliation manifested in my chest, making it hard to breathe. I couldn’t even say anything to him and just ran away from the house party. That following Monday a drawing of me, where I had posed nude, was taped to the front of my locker. I wanted to crawl inside my locker and hide from the world. My mom had been right, men can’t be trusted. If she was right about that, maybe she was right about everything else; like I wasn’t smart or pretty. Toby’s betray
al sent me into a downward spiral. During the day I remained super-disciplined at school. I didn’t need my mother to approve of my art work. My instructors’ praise and awards from competitions told me I was a promising artist. My personal life derailed. I started sneaking out to get drunk and hooking up with random men. Since Toby, I hadn’t had a relationship last longer than 24 hours (if that even qualifies as a relationship).

  Since I started college I’d been on a few dates, stopped sleeping around and avoided getting involved with anyone. All of my focus went towards my course work. Dominic, however, made me feel unfocused and disoriented. I didn’t know how to handle the physical reaction he triggered in me. An attraction was there and it was difficult to suppress.

  As I zoned out at the bar, it dawned on me; I was beginning to like Dominic in more ways than lust. Or maybe it was just lust and he was right in distancing himself. I chugged my drink and stood up.

  “Well, good night,” I said, hoping he couldn’t hear the panic in my voice. I walked up to the employee lounge to get my things. Brittany was getting ready to leave too.

  “Hey! A bunch of us are going over to Blue, want to come?”

  “Yes!” I jumped at the opportunity, grateful for the distraction.

  We passed Grant on the way out. “Be careful. Remember what I said about drama?” He tilted his head toward Brittany. “Call me if you need anything.” I rolled my eyes, but knew he would be the first I’d call if things got out of hand.

  A huge line of people stood outside Blue. Many swayed in place and probably should have been home sleeping the booze off and not waiting to get into another club. I recognized several customers from Crimson as we walked past. I followed Brittany’s lead and we were ushered inside by a bouncer at the door.

  Blue was packed and steaming hot; the air heavy with perspiration and the stench of stale beer. We left our coats at the coat check and filtered through the crowd to the bar. Once I had my drink, I spun around to people-watch and instead came face to chest with Dominic. Vodka and tonic splashed all over my shirt.

  “Shit!” I gasped as an ice cube fell down the front and became lodged in my bra, instantly beginning to melt against my hot skin. I reached in and fished it out.

  “I would have gotten that for you,” he teased.

  “So you’re talking to me now?” The smile vanished from his face.

  “Yeah, sorry about earlier, your bro didn’t like us getting so friendly in the back of Brittany’s car last night.”

  “That’s Grant for you. It’s really none of his business.”

  “I can’t say I blame him. I’d probably do the same if my little sister started to get involved with someone like me.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing, he’s being a big brother. I get it.” He leaned over to order a drink, sandwiching me between his body and the bar. His closeness made my stomach flip. I shook my head slightly in an attempt to focus. Don’t do it, Nat. don’t start liking this guy, I warned myself. The counter dug into the small of my back so I shifted, resulting in me being pressed closer to Dominic. He smiled down at me. “I owe you a drink, don’t I?” His voice was soft and husky.

  Minutes passed while we waited for the bartender to return with our drinks. Dominic kept me pinned, but I wasn’t complaining. “So what’s your story, Natalie?”

  “I don’t have a story, well, not an interesting one anyway. I go to the University of the Arts and will be graduating in May.”

  “What are you studying?”

  “My major is sculpture and my minor is art history. Do you go to college?”

  “I took a couple semesters, but school didn’t appeal to me. Besides, I’m going into the family business anyway.”

  “Which is?”

  The bartender arrived and I never got an answer to the question.

  Dominic kept me pinned beneath him and he leaned down. “I wanted to do this last night,” he whispered in my ear. I closed my eyes, anticipating his next move. Sure enough his lips found mine and he moved closer. I grabbed his bicep when he pulled me against him. This kiss was like nothing I had ever experienced. Not wet, not sloppy, it was…incredible. His lips were soft, warm and fit perfectly over mine. I stopped holding back and fell into the moment. The loud club ceased to exist. When we pulled apart I had to catch my breath. My insides were begging and pleading for more. I could very easily have taken Dominic back to my apartment, slept with him and then been done. I was about ready to propose this, but stopped myself as another realization hit me.

  I didn’t want just a one night fling.

  We moved in at the same time for another kiss. Our lips barely touched when Brittany suddenly emerged from the crowd, pulling me away from Dominic and onto the dance floor.

  “Brittany, I was kind of in the middle of something back there,” I yelled over the music.

  She ignored me, or pretended to be oblivious, but the glittering in her eyes made me suspect she knew exactly what she was doing. I glanced back towards the bar, but Dominic was gone.

  Damn.

  Chapter 4

  Returning to class on Monday was a harsh reality check. The number of projects that were due was overwhelming and it didn’t help that I couldn’t get thoughts of Dominic out of my head. I was in a permanent state of distraction. Mornings were difficult in the first place, but I had to go back to my apartment three times in a row because I kept forgetting things. This seriously amused Chelsea who laughed harder and louder each time I came through the door.

  When I did arrive at my first class, a creaky hinge alerted the professor to my late entrance and he glared at me. I crept to the back of the classroom. To make matters worse, the teacher called on me and caught me mid-fantasy. I was too busy thinking about the effect of Dominic’s body pressed against mine that I stammered out the wrong answer. Usually I would have had the correct one. This earned me a disapproving frown from my professor before he moved on to another student.

  “You were off your A-game today Miss Ross,” he commented as I tried to hurry past after class.

  “Yes, I’m sorry.”

  “Well, must be something good because you’re always so focused.” He had no idea how good; I thought to myself and suppressed a chuckle. “Since you’re here - have you given any more consideration about pursuing your MFA? You mentioned you were interested in the Art Institute of Chicago.”

  “I haven’t decided.”

  “Well, let me know. I would be more than happy to write you a letter of recommendation.”

  “Thanks, I will. I have the application, but haven’t filled anything out yet.”

  “You shouldn’t waste any time. You are one of my best students and I think they would accept you right away.”

  “Okay, I’ll think about it more this week,” I promised before I left the classroom. Great, now my mind was going to be really preoccupied. I needed to get my shit together. Once back at my apartment, I dropped my backpack on the floor by my desk and changed to go for a run.

  As I settled into a steady pace, my head began to clear. It felt good to do something positive with my body after the long weekend of working and partying. Running gave me a sense of clarity and by the time I rounded the corner of my block, I had put thoughts of Dominic aside and focused on post-graduation plans.

  I had been considering getting a Masters in Art Therapy or Art Education so I could teach and support my independent projects. The 400-level courses this semester were grueling and I hadn’t had time to focus on those pursuits. Philadelphia was soon going to be part of my past as I set out to create a future for myself. Sure I did a lot of growing here, but the time had come to move away from the crutch Grant provided. I needed to figure out the type of person I wanted to be. Getting romantically involved with anyone now would be ridiculous. This was reason enough to put any and all thoughts of Dominic aside.

  Chelsea was home and cooking dinner when I returned. “What did you forget this time?” she joked.


  “God, I’m lucky I even made it to class. The run helped and I’ll feel even better after a shower.”

  “Good idea,” she said, wrinkling up her nose.

  “Shut up!” I laughed and chucked the dish towel at her. She was still laughing when I stepped into the bathroom.

  The shower worked wonders and helped me get the last of my hormones in check. I felt better about myself and in control of the situation. After slipping on pajamas, I checked the messages on my cell phone. There were three; one from Chelsea to see if I was home, the second from our friend Jillian to see if we were still on to watch our Wednesday night shows and the last was from Dominic. My pulse quickened the instant I heard his voice.

  “Hey Nat, it’s Dom. Sorry I had to leave Blue last night – my uncle needed me to take care of something. Call me some time or I’ll see you at work.”

  I jumped up and down and did a little happy dance before I realized what I was doing. Get a grip girl, no emotional attachments, remember? My calm, cool and rational self quickly reminded me. It didn’t help. I took a couple of deep breaths and dialed his number.

  We spoke for over two hours and it only felt like a few minutes. Chelsea kept peeking in to my room and I had to wave her away. Turns out we had a lot in common. He was a huge music fan, we both liked alternative rock. He loved horror movies and we shared the same favorite movie – Silence of the Lambs. And like me, he considered himself a foodie.

  “Speaking of food, I haven’t eaten dinner yet and I am starving,” I didn’t want to end the call, but needed to eat.

  “I won’t keep you. I’m glad we had a chance to talk outside of work. Also, I’m sorry we couldn’t hang out at Blue last night.”

  “That’s okay. It’s not like we were on a date or anything.”

  “Yeah, but it was turning out to be a very interesting night.” I laughed in response, knowing he was referring to our kiss.

  “That’s a whole other conversation, Mister,” I joked. “This girl’s gotta eat!”