A Portrait of Emily

by J. P. Bowie

  Joey had wanted to follow him just to see where he was going, but what if he was seeing someone else? Joey knew he wouldn’t be able to stand it if it were so. “Oh God,” he moaned aloud, staring up at the ceiling. This agony of not knowing was surely worse than if he found out. Or was it? Angrily, he flung himself off the bed and began pacing the floor. Why had he allowed himself to fall in love with this man who obviously could care less? What was he hiding from him?

  He knew absolutely nothing about his background. Where he lived or what he did. He had gone through Adam’s jeans’ pockets one night when he had gone to the bathroom and found nothing. No driver’s license, no billfold; just some dollar bills and loose change. Any personal questions Joey ever asked were met with either a vague reply or dead silence.

  Once, when he had asked if his parents were still living, he had seen anger in the young man’s eyes for a moment before he looked away and simply nodded. Before Joey could pursue the subject, he had abruptly left with his usual departing words, “I’ll call you.”

  “Damn it!” Joey muttered under his breath, still pacing. He would go mad if this continued. He should tell him never to come back, but who would be more hurt by that? He wished Jeff thought more kindly of him. Maybe then he could ask him to do some kind of background check. But Jeff would never go for that. He was too much the honest guy, the straight arrow—and all the rest of that bullshit.

  He had hoped for more from Jeff. He had thought perhaps he might have been only too willing to pick up where they had left off. Joey could have used that desire to his own advantage. Blondie must be really good in the sack if Jeff didn’t want to come running back into his arms. Never mind that he had broken Jeff’s heart when he left—he was back now and he needed Jeff’s friendship.

  Maybe he’d made a mistake leaving Jeff without a word. He should have known one day they would meet again. He had loved Jeff in the beginning. How could he not? He was so good looking, so strong, so damned good. But Joey couldn’t bear to be so restrained by a relationship. He had cheated on Jeff almost from the beginning. At first, he had felt some remorse. He knew Jeff would never forgive him if he ever found out, and so he went to extreme lengths to make sure he never did. But the last one, the one he ran away with—that one, he could not give up. Or rather, he could not give up the wealth, the Armani wardrobe, the red Jaguar convertible—those were just some of the gifts his new love had showered on him. How could his head not be turned by things like that?

  Poor Jeff. Poor indeed—struggling on a police officer’s pay. He could never compete. So he had left him without a word and with just a little sadness. Oh, he had thought of him often and many times he had even wished it was Jeff there with him as he lay on a Caribbean beach or poolside in the south of France. The man who had footed the bill for Joey’s pleasures had not a tenth of Jeff’s good looks or charm. There was always some little flaw in every arrangement, was there not?

  There was certainly a very big flaw in this present arrangement. Try as he may, Joey could not figure out Adam’s reluctance to open up more. They enjoyed the most exciting sex Joey had known in years and they were both always ready for it. There was little conversation for sure, but Joey had figured the man to be the silent type, not a senseless talker. But when they made love, it was as if he gave Joey his whole soul. Their bodies would cleave to each other with an intensity that would leave Joey spent and breathless.

  Mostly though, he would be lost in the wonderment of it all. When they would lie in each other’s arms for that oh too brief a time afterwards, Joey would feel as though his whole world was complete. God, how he loved him.

  Joey sat down on the edge of his bed again and thought desperately of a way to keep this man’s love. He had to know if he was being betrayed. He had to know. Next time, he would follow him when he left. There was no other choice. Let the fates lead him where they might, but he had to know.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Emily leaned back on the chaise lounge in Peter’s studio and tried to relax. Peter had done his best to make her feel at ease, but she still felt slightly ridiculous and out of place sitting there. Of all the things she’d ever thought of having done, this was probably the most surprising to her. She just wasn’t the raving beauty her cousin Gloria was. Who on earth was going to think that her portrait, hanging in a prominent part of any room, would be worth looking at?

  Only Jerry, of course, and after all, it was only him she wanted to please above all others. Her father had sneered; her mother had said nothing as usual. She hadn’t even bothered to tell Anthony about it, thinking he could have cared less. Her attention was drawn back to Peter as he smiled at her from his easel.

  “Just tilt your head a little more to the left, Emily, please. Look down then up at me quickly… That’s good, that’s the expression I want.” For some considerable time he worked in silence, his hand moving rapidly and skillfully over the canvas.

  “There…” He threw down the charcoal stick and smiled at Emily. “That’s enough for today. I can see you’re getting restless. Would you like some tea?”

  “Oh, please don’t bother, Peter.”

  “It’s no bother. I’d like a cup myself.” He crossed the room to where she sat and gallantly offered her his hand. Responding to his playful show of chivalry, she placed her hand delicately on his.

  “Come, m’lady,” he said, bowing before her, “your tea awaits.”

  They went downstairs to the kitchen and Peter plugged in the electric kettle.

  “You have such a lovely house, Peter. So warm and lived in. Not like that great museum I live in.”

  Peter had not yet been to Emily’s house, but he’d heard from Gloria that it was enormous and very much a show place rather than a home.

  “Where are you and Jerry going to live once you’re married?”

  “We’re still looking. I’d like to move here to Laguna and Jerry loves this part of the coast too.”

  “It’d be great to have you as neighbors.”

  She was silent as she watched Peter busy himself preparing the tea.

  “You seem sad Emily. Is something wrong?”

  She looked back at him and gave a guilty start, answering too quickly. “No, no—I’m fine really.”

  She looked away from his steady gaze. “You had a wonderful childhood didn’t you? I envy you that.”

  Peter poured the now boiling water into the teapot. “Yes, I was a very privileged kid. My mom and dad were the best parents, loving and understanding. My mother still is of course. I lost my dad some years ago. My only regret, I think, is that I didn’t have any brothers or sisters to grow up with.”

  Emily’s smile was rueful. “That’s not all it’s cracked up to be, believe me. I have one of each and recently they haven’t been much support.” Her face colored slightly and Peter guessed she felt she’d spoken out of turn.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “Well, if it’s any consolation, I’d love to have had you as a sister.” He grinned at her as he handed her a cup of tea and pushed the cream and sugar in front of her.

  “That would’ve been terrific.”

  “I get the feeling that your dad isn’t crazy about you getting married to Jerry.”

  “To Jerry…or any man. He’s jealous, always has been.”

  “But why?”

  “Because he feels he will lose control of me, just like he lost control of Paula when she ran off to get married. He has to be the dominant one.”

  “But why would he want to control you? You’re not a child anymore.”

  “Oh believe me, he knows that… He never wanted me to grow up. Just stay ‘Daddy’s little girl’ forever. The idea of me marrying and moving away is…abhorrent to him.”

  “Like it means he’s getting older?”

  “No, because I’m getting older. He doesn’t like us getting older.”

  Peter looked at her, puzzled.

  “I’ve said way too much.” Emily put down her tea cup. “I should go.”
>
  “Is there something I can do to help?”

  “You’re a sweet guy, Peter. You and Jeff are nice people. Until Jerry, I didn’t know many nice people, apart from Gloria and Johnny. My father doesn’t attract too many nice people.” She gathered her purse and car keys together and stood up. “I really should get going.”

  “All right, if you have to.” Peter hugged her gently. “Remember, you can always talk to me if you need to. You’re always welcome here, you and Jerry.”

  “Thanks Peter. That is really nice of you. Sorry I’m such a downer.”

  “You’re not a downer, Emily. You’ve been great company. I look forward to our next session.”

  “Next Monday, right?”

  “Right.” He walked her to the door and watched as she got in her car and drove off.

  What a sad little thing... Something is really troubling her.

  He climbed the stairs back to his studio. For a few moments, he gazed at the work he had done so far, then he picked up his charcoal and added some touches from memory. He knew he could already do this portrait without another sitting, his keen photographic memory still holding all her features intact in his mind.

  But he wanted her back.

  There was so much more he wanted to know about Emily Hastings. She needed help, he could tell that already. There was something in her past she wanted release from. Something she held locked up within her and could not discuss with anyone. Gloria had hinted at it the night of her party, but had stopped herself, claiming she’d drunk too much. What could it be? Peter was sure it involved Emily’s father. There was definitely no love lost between them. Was it just his heavy handed attitude, or was there more? As he stared at the sketch before him, he realized he had drawn a melancholy expression on Emily’s face.

  “That won’t do,” he muttered, rubbing at the charcoal with his thumb. Jerry probably would not appreciate his bride-to-be looking like she had just heard the worst news in the world. He walked away from the easel and sat down at the far end of the studio, looking back worriedly at the sketch.

  “What’s wrong, Emily?” he whispered, leaning back in his chair. “Tell me what I can do to help you.”

  § § § §

  That same evening, Jerry arrived at Emily’s home to take her out to dinner. They tried to spend as many nights together as they could and Jerry knew Emily was always happy to get away from the house and her parents.

  How could she have survived this long in such an oppressive atmosphere? He wondered.

  She appeared to be such a fragile being, but some time ago Jerry had seen in her a steely resolve that was not at first apparent on the surface. He admired her for the optimism and good humor she displayed despite the uncomfortable relationship with her father. He wished she was closer to her brother and sister. Together, they might have been able to support one another. Jerry had only met Paula once and it had not been a happy occasion. There was almost as much tension between the two sisters as he had noticed between Emily and her parents.

  Her brother, Anthony, seemed not at all interested in his sister’s welfare. He hardly ever stopped to say hello when Jerry was at the house, merely passing through with perhaps a nod in their direction. Given that Emily and Anthony shared the same roof and had at one time been very close, Jerry was surprised that the two appeared to have so little in common.

  He’d asked her about it, but she hadn’t seemed to want to talk about it, so he’d let it go, thinking she might open up some more as their relationship grew stronger.

  As the maid let him in, he almost bumped into Anthony in the foyer.

  “Hi, Anthony.”

  “Hi…” The young man appeared about to breeze by, but then he paused and looked Jerry over as if seeing him for the first time. “I understand congratulations are in order.” He offered his hand to Jerry.

  Jerry shook it firmly. “Thank you.” He couldn’t quite keep the surprise out of his voice.

  “I don’t envy you getting my folks as in-laws. But I’m glad Emily has found someone to get her out of here. She needs a better life.”

  “Anthony,” Jerry said on impulse. “Why don’t you join Emily and me for dinner tonight? We’ve never really had a chance to talk or get to know one another. I think Emily would like that.”

  A flicker of regret crossed Anthony’s handsome face for a moment. “Sorry, I have plans. Maybe some other time. You two enjoy yourselves.” With that, he strode out, closing the door behind him. Jerry turned to find Charles Hastings watching him from the stairs, his face flat without expression.

  “Well…You managed to get more than two words out of him. What’s your secret?”

  “Oh hello, Mr. Hastings.” Jerry forced a smile at the man. “Actually, I think that’s the first time I’ve spoken to Anthony.”

  “The kid’s never here these days. Always gallivanting off on some pretext or other. Of course, your folks probably say the same thing about you. You always seem to be over here.”

  “Don’t worry sir. My parents are very happy about Emily and me. They think the world of her.”

  “Do they now? Well, there’s nothing special about Emily. I can assure them and you of that.”

  “I happen to think you’re wrong about that, sir.” Jerry could feel his face flush and his jaw clench with anger as he glared at the older man. “Emily is very special to me.”

  Both men turned as Emily ran down the stairs. She ignored her father and ran into Jerry’s arms.

  “Let’s go,” she whispered against his ear pulling him toward the door. Jerry could not stop himself from glaring at her father again before they left. His look was met with one of such venom that for a moment, gave him pause to think—That guy is capable of being truly evil.

  “Emily…” He held the car door open for her. “I hate to say this, but your father is a complete ass.”

  She waited until he got in beside her then leaned over and kissed him. “I heard what you said to him; about me being special, I mean.”

  “And I meant every word, my darling. You are very special to me.” He held her for a moment, then trying to cheer her mood, he teased her. “We have to get married soon. You do some very strange things to my body.”

  “Why do we have to wait until we’re married?”

  Jerry looked at her with surprise. Did she mean what he thought she meant? “Emily… I thought…”

  “I know what you thought—that I’m afraid of sex. But I don’t think I could ever be afraid of you.”

  His hand trembled as he touched her cheek. “I love you so much.”

  “I know you do. I think that’s what makes me the happiest. Knowing you love me just as I love you. Now, let’s get out of this driveway.”

  They drove down to the coast and found a small hotel that boasted all their rooms had ocean views. While Jerry went to the front desk, Emily gazed out of the lobby window at the sea below and the first pang of uncertainty about what she had suggested closed in on her like an unwelcome memory. This would be the first time she and Jerry would be fully intimate with each other. The first time she would see him naked, the first time he would touch her bare flesh, the first time he would—

  “We’re all checked in.” Jerry smiled and touched her cheek. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes.” She took the hand he offered and followed him to their room. It was small but had an old world charm that helped Emily to relax a little. Jerry led her out to the balcony where they stood, feeling the cool night breeze.

  “Look,” Jerry murmured. “A shooting star. Make a wish.”

  “There’s only one thing I would wish for…”

  “Don’t tell me.” He kissed her gently on the lips. “It might not come true.”

  “It already has.” They clung to one another then he picked her up in his arms and carried her back into the room. Thinking she might be shy about undressing in front of him, he turned off the bedside lamp.

  “There’s enough light from the moon.”

&nbs
p; Emily stood still watching Jerry take off his shirt, revealing a smooth, toned chest. She shivered with anticipation as he took her in his arms, and for a moment she let herself be lost in the sensual touch of his soft, warm lips on hers, of the strong yet gentle arms that encircled her.

  But as she felt the hard bulge of his arousal press to her body, suddenly, there it was again—that insidious flare of panic she could not control, nor hide.

  God, why did I think I could do this?

  “Oh, Jerry… I’m sorry, so sorry. I can’t…”

  She had hoped for a miracle. That somehow all the ghastly memories would be washed away by the power of their love for one another.

  “Shh, my darling,” Jerry crooned. “It’s all right, it’s all right.”

  “But I wanted this—for us.” She was sobbing now, hot tears scalding her cheeks.

  Jerry kissed her tear streaked face, holding her tightly, his mind a jumble of disappointment and longing.

  I shouldn’t have been so eager. I should have insisted we wait just a little longer…

  But how could he, when she had appeared so willing? He could only hope this would not change Emily’s mind about marrying him. He knew she would be filled with remorse for what she had been unable to do. He would just have to make sure she knew he was not blaming her for this.

  Emily sighed against his chest. “Why do you put up with me?”

  “Because I love you; and because I know we can get over this. Look, there’s no point in beating yourself up because you had second thoughts. We have to wait, that’s all, until you’re ready.”

  “I thought I was ready.”

  “Come on…” He released her and picked up his shirt, pulling it on quickly. “Let’s not talk about this anymore tonight. I don’t want you getting more upset by it.” He tucked his shirt into his pants then held Emily lightly in his arms. “I think we should go find someplace to eat. I don’t know about you, but I’m suddenly starving.”

  Emily looked at him and put her hand to his face. “I promise I’ll make this up to you, Jerry.”

  They left the hotel and drove to a nearby restaurant.