“Oh, how cute, you all match.” She grinned. “And who are your friends? Have I missed something?”
Nosy bitch. Without Alfred to keep me in line, I decided to respond like I wanted to for once. I indicated Richard to my left as I said, “This is my doctor, Richard Stacey.”
Catching on to what I was trying to do, he extended his hand in greeting as he replied, “Yes, her gynecologist.”
Marcy’s bug eyes nearly popped from her head, but she attempted to maintain her composure. “And you are?” She turned to Elijah, who was clearly having a difficult time opening his mouth and containing his laughter at the same time.
“This is Elijah Jasper.” I smiled sweetly, finding it easier to smile at her if I could be nasty at the same time.
“And what do you do?” she asked, clearly having difficulty taking her eyes from Richard and the smug look he was giving her.
“Oh, it’s not important, I’m just using him for sex,” I interrupted.
Elijah’s eyes widened, as he and Richard visibly fought to control their amusement.
“Oh, I see,” Marcy said, beginning to wave profusely with the ugly fan she was carrying. It matched the awful pink sundress and hat that completed her atrocious ensemble. “Well, if you’ll excuse me.” With that, Marcy awkwardly dismissed herself.
She had barely turned her back before Richard and Elijah both doubled over laughing.
“My gynecologist,” I rounded on Richard with a grin.
“Sorry,” he said panting, “I couldn’t help myself.”
Elijah placed his hand on my shoulder as he said with a wink, “I guess this means we have to sit together now.”
I took them both by the arm and walked toward the porch, ready to face the crowd. Ms. Wilson lived in a large old plantation style house on the opposite end of town from me. Of course, I was out in the middle of nowhere past the other side of town, and she was still inside the city limits. We were greeted more warmly than I had expected by Ms. Wilson as we entered the house amongst a throng of other guests.
She leaned in conspiratorially as she whispered, “Honey, I don’t know what you said to that Marcy woman, but she looks pink enough to match that awful dress.”
“Why, I was only introducing her to my doctor,” I said in my best southern belle voice.
Elijah chuckled and said, “And her sex slave.”
Ms. Wilson may have been old, but uptight she was not. She knew exactly who the men with me were and our comments to Marcy seemed to make her day.
“Oh, I can’t stand her,” she said, cackling. “But, one must strive to be polite,” she added, regaining her composure.
“And where is that Italian of yours?” she asked shrewdly. “Still turning up his nose at my tea party, I assume.”
“No.” I smiled sadly. “Alfred is out of town on business, and he’s not my Italian.”
She raised one eyebrow at my last comment, but left it at that as she began to greet other guests.
As everyone exited the house and crossed the back porch, I admired how much effort the tea party must take to arrange every spring. Small white tables were sprinkled about the large backyard with matching wicker chairs and soft yellow tablecloths. There was a lovely tea set on each table, all with different expensive looking patterns and a small bouquet of fresh wildflowers. Of course, Ms. Wilson didn’t do it all herself. She had servants, but she believed in putting forth some effort herself, which I had always admired. As we looked around for a seat, Richard whispered, “It must be nice to be filthy rich.”
The next few hours passed more quickly than I expected as Kat flitted around taking pictures of unsuspecting people in the middle of eating cream filled pastries or taking a sip of tea. She was wearing a breezy looking white sundress with a matching hat. The three of us managed to get a table underneath a large oak tree, and thanks to the shade, we stayed relatively cool. Halfway through our conversation, I was temporarily blinded by the flash of Kat’s camera.
“You could warn me, you know,” I said, blinking far too fast.
“If I warned you, I might not have gotten such a good picture of you flirting,” she teased nastily.
A flush began to creep up my cheeks as I realized she was right. I’d been sitting there in front of Richard and everybody else obviously flirting with Elijah. The situation would not have been so bad had there not been something between Alfred and me. Though nothing was set in stone, we definitely had feelings for one another. Add that to the fact that I lived in the nosiest town I’d ever even heard of and, as you can see, I was screwed. Most of the town already thought Alfred was my live-in boyfriend. Admittedly, they weren’t far off, but that had not always been the case.
Showing up at local events with Richard was acceptable and no one cared because most of them thought he was gay. It did no good to explain that just because the man kept to himself and happened to color coordinate did not mean he was gay. Although, the color coordinating thing was a little bizarre, it was just Richard. Elijah on the other hand, had only been in town for a few years, was known to be single, and happened to be considered prime real estate. When he blinked those blue eyes, or flashed one of his megawatt smiles, the girls around town flung it so hard you could get whiplash just watching. Rumors were no doubt already in flight.
I was brought back to reality as Ms. Wilson climbed to the top step on the back porch and rang the dinner bell. She had spent the last few hours going from table to table speaking to each person, and most likely asking their life’s history.
“I would like to thank you all for coming and taking this opportunity to have some sun, some tea, and some conversation.” She smiled brightly. “Please continue to visit at your leisure and if you need me for anything, I’ll be at that table over there, adding some whiskey to my tea.”
She walked to her table amongst clapping and laughter from the crowd as I turned to Richard and Elijah. “Well gentlemen, we’ve stayed through the ‘thank you’ speech, I think we can safely leave now.”
On our way out, I spotted Kat in the kitchen.
“I’ll be right out,” I said to Richard and he and Elijah continued out the front.
She turned as I came in. “Happy late birthday,” she said. “Did you get my present?” Her smile was positively evil.
“What present?”
“The one you seemed to be enjoying so well this afternoon.” I must have still looked confused, because she then explained, “I sent Mr. Jasper your way.”
My jaw dropped. “You did wha—?”
“Oh, you didn’t like it?” she pouted.
“What about Alfred?” I was actually a little bit angry. “It was your stupid suggestion that got me to thinking differently about him, and now you’re throwing local cops at me?”
Kat looked at me as if I’d missed the point. “I’m not asking you to marry him,” she said gently. “Look, the guy’s adorable and he’s so obviously got a thing for you. Just spend some time with him. Have some fun.”
“People’s feelings aren’t things that you have fun with,” I said, more sadly than I’d meant to.
“I know that,” Kat said, looking depressed then also. “I only meant that—”
“I know, Kat. It’s just that ... I see the way Elijah looks at me. I just don’t want to hurt him.”
“I understand,” Kat said, putting her arm around me, “But, I’ve seen the way you look at him, too, when you think no one’s looking. You may not feel for him what you feel for Alfred, but you feel something.”
She was right.
“I just want you to be happy, you know? Be able to recognize what’s right.”
“Which brings me back to what I wanted to ask you in the first place,” I said. “I believe the best way to know what is right is by spending some time with what’s wrong.”
I proceeded to make plans with Kat to go to club Red the following night. Since it was a few hours away, Kat offered to make hotel reservations for the night on her, in honor of my bi
rthday. When I walked outside, I found Richard and Elijah still talking by the car. As I approached, Elijah smiled and Richard seemed to pay closer attention to our interaction. Elijah excused himself with a hug and a promise to call me later. Which doesn’t sound so bad, except when he pressed against me, I took a deep breath.
He was wearing one of those great colognes that just smells like a man ought to smell. And with my sense of smell being so much more than it should be, I was aroused. I became suddenly very aware of how close he was and felt my nipples begin to harden against the thin fabric of my dress. Elijah didn’t seem to notice, but the dress was thin, and as I turned back to Richard, he obviously did.
“So, what’s up with you and the cop?” he asked as he opened my door.
“Nothing.” I sat down and watched him give me “the look” as he walked around to his side.
“Well, it looked like something from where I was standing,” he said, as he pulled out of the driveway.
Chapter Ten
After a few minutes of awkward silence, he turned to me with a kind smile and patted my hand. “It’s none of my business. All I know is it’s been years since I saw you smile like you did today. It looked good on you.”
The rest of the ride home was spent in silence. I wasn’t angry. I just didn’t know what to say. When we arrived at my house, I waited for Richard to open the door. Since he was nice enough to be a gentleman, I wasn’t going to ruin it for him. I considered myself as liberated as the next woman, but if a man still finds it in his heart to practice some form of chivalry, I’m not going to kill it with more women’s lib. I am flattered to be treated like a lady. Though I’m definitely no angel, I appreciate the gesture.
As he turned to leave, I stopped him, placing my hand on his shoulder.
“Richard?” I made his name a question.
“Yes?” He turned back to face me.
“Has it really been that long since I smiled?”
He hugged me to him with an affectionate squeeze around my shoulders. “You’ve smiled,” he answered. “But today, it reached your eyes.”
“Thanks, Richard,” I said, pulling back.
“For braving an old woman’s tea party?”
“For being honest.”
“Any time.” His smile reached his kind blue gray eyes and I felt better.
Over the years, and through many sleepless nights of conversation, sharing philosophies about why people are the way that they are, I had come to trust Richard. If he said my smile hadn’t been reaching my eyes, then it hadn’t.
After watching him drive out of sight, I went in the kitchen and made myself a drink. The effects might not last, but a fifteen minute buzz was better than nothing. As I sat there with only Marco’s roses to keep me company, I wondered, not for the first time, what was wrong with me. I had managed to find a nice man, and still I wanted to spend time with Elijah. I didn’t love Marco, but I couldn’t seem to stay away from him either. With another shot of rum, I remembered thinking that if Peter had only loved me, that would have been enough. The memory was very vivid, and I was sure at the time that his love would have been all I needed. Perhaps it was the naivety of youth that made me think so, but it seemed that way to me.
It was the same with Bradley. I was willing to “forsake all others” just to be with him. I knew he was no good, but since when has that ever stopped a woman in love? It’s stupid and cliché, but true. If you love someone, it doesn’t matter how much of a loser they are, you will always look for the good in them. Then one day you come to a point like me, when you can no longer lie to yourself. I try not to lie to people I like, and I like me. I may not like what I am, but that’s something I cannot change. Ever since my attack years ago, I’ve had a sort of love/hate relationship with myself. Who knows, maybe I just love to hate me? But the truth is, I don’t have the balls to cause myself harm, and even if I could, I wouldn’t. I’m too full of myself. Or, maybe that was just the philosophy that half a bottle of rum provided.
However you care to look at the matter, seeing myself through Alfred’s eyes had changed me. Until that point, I had truly seen myself as a monster, not just because of the change in DNA, but the scars, as well. To me, I was damaged goods. But, Alfred didn’t see it that way. When he looked at me, the scars were just another part of who I am ... and he loved me. That was the emotion I had felt in him during the dream, but I had only just realized it.
I’m not sure if it was the alcohol, or remembering what I’d felt for Peter, but I suddenly recognized the feeling. Granted, this could have been any type of love, for it has many forms. But I thought I knew which kind it was. Looking at the nearly empty bottle, I decided I had mixed enough philosophy with alcohol for one afternoon. However, I no longer had the ability to shut off my mind. I laughed to myself, wondering if it were possible to dam up your stream of consciousness.
So, there I sat, taking time to smell the roses Marco had sent two days ago and wondering exactly what it was that I was looking for. Still pondering the question, I went upstairs and packed my bag for the next night. By the time I was finished packing, I had analyzed myself until my head hurt, but I’d developed a theory. A story came to mind of a guy who picked up a snake. He came upon a snake lying beside the road on a cold winter’s day. The snake, nearly frozen, asked if the man would be willing to place him inside his jacket until he was warm again.
“Do you promise not to bite me?” the man asked.
The snake promised. However, a short way down the road, he bit the man anyway. The man dropped the snake and yelled, “You promised not to bite me!”
“Yes,” said the snake. “But, you knew what I was when you picked me up.”
I brought Marco’s roses upstairs and sat them on the writing desk as the thought occurred to me: I knew what they were when I picked them up, the men in my past. All I could figure was I was trying to become a snake charmer. After being hurt badly, more than once, I didn’t believe it was naivety that let me still trust people. It was courage, and the hope that there was some good left in man.
As I collected my sketches from the desk, I flipped to the picture of my hands against Marco’s bare chest. Oh yes, I knew what he was, but this was one snake that I had no intention of picking up.
*****
Kat arrived early the next morning and without Alfred to remind me she was coming, I overslept. So, about thirty minutes later than we had planned, I placed my single black leather bag in the back seat beside Kat’s four pink ones, and we were off.
“So, why don’t you tell me the real reason you want to go out?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lied. “It’s for my birthday. I just want to party.”
“Sure, and you might casually end up at club Red,” Kat said.
“Well, I did say I wanted to go back there.”
Kat turned in the seat and attempted to give me an intimidating look, but had to put her eyes back on the road.
“Okay, fine. There’s something I didn’t tell you about the weekend when Elijah and I got kidnapped.”
I went on to tell her how the red headed woman I had killed was Marco’s girlfriend.
“Holy shit.” For a few minutes, that was her only response until, “Why the hell are you going to see him?!”
“Who says I’m going to see him?”
“Don’t play dumb with me Lilith. You’re not that good of an actress.”
I told her about Marco showing up beneath my balcony and the flowers he’d sent, and Kat nearly drove into a ditch.
“Whoa, hold up. You kill his girlfriend, brutally I might add, and he shows up to talk to you, and then sends you flowers. I’m sorry, but what the fuck?”
“That’s what I was hoping to find out.”
“Well, obviously, he doesn’t want to kill you or he wouldn’t have sent you flowers,” she said sounding bewildered.
“Oh no. The look he gave me the other night had nothing to do with murder. But, I admit, I was expec
ting some sort of retaliation.”
I licked my lips just remembering how good he looked in those damned jeans.
“Maybe since she was with Bade’s group, she and Marco broke up?” Kat suggested.
“Maybe,” I said, thinking out loud. “Or, maybe, he just didn’t care enough about her to retaliate in any way. Maybe she wasn’t worth the effort.”
“My, my, aren’t we bitchy.”
“Sorry, it just comes out some times.”
Kat laughed. “You may be right. I mean, he was dating someone who looked like you, which is creepy by the way.”
“Oh yeah, it’s creepy.”
“But, strangely flattering,” Kat added.
“Yeah it is.”
At that moment, I remembered what Marco had said at the club that night when I’d asked if he was attached to someone. “Yes, but I’m beginning to regret my choices.” I shared this with Kat.
“Ouch,” she said, pulling in at a fast food restaurant.
“Yeah, talk about being kicked to the curb.”
“Well, one thing’s for sure, Marco’s definitely hung up on you,” she said.
“I think you’re right. I was really surprised about the club—”
“What do you want?” Kat interrupted.
“Huh?”
“You know, coffee, breakfast. What are you in the mood for?”
After we finally decided what to eat for breakfast, Kat prompted me, “What were you saying about the club?”
I thought for a moment before continuing, “Oh, I was saying that I figured he owned the club, but I had no idea he’d named it after me. Obviously they were dating at the time. What makes a woman put up with something like that?”
Almost as soon as the question was out of my mouth, I knew the answer. How much shit had I taken from Bradley because I loved him?
“She must have loved him,” Kat said what I was thinking.
That explained the look on her face. I’d have hated me, too.
*****
As I got dressed that evening, I noticed Kat watching me.
“What?”
Lilith Mercury, Werewolf Hunter Series (Boxed Set, Books 1-3) Page 16
