Win for Love

by Isabelle Peterson

“What’s that?”

  “I need to get some fresh clothes. Can we stop at my place first?”

  “Of course.”

  DAVID

  While Talia dresses in some of my clothes, I rummage through my closet to come up with what to wear to go to Navy Pier. No doubt there will be people that’ll recognize me there as was the risk yesterday at the music festival. I settle on a t-shirt from a Thirty Seconds to Mars concert and an old pair of torn jeans. Normally, I wouldn’t wear them in public but rather save them for a grungy job like helping my dad work on his old ’63 split back Corvette, not going to the Pier, especially on a date. But I don’t want to draw attention to us and have my cover blown.

  I know I should just tell Talia, but I still have this suspicion that she’s hiding something. I just want to know what it is. She seems impressed with my home, yet she’s not making any indication that she is ‘marking her territory’ or has designs on the home or my money. She’s asking to go to Navy Pier on a date for crying out loud.

  A date. Is that what we call what Talia and I are doing? I feel like we’re way beyond dating. Truthfully, I could see us growing old together. I have a sharp pang to my chest realizing we won’t be able to have kids. She could carry kids, but they won’t have a piece of me. I consider what the doctor had said when I had the sterilization surgery—that a reversal procedure is possible, but the further I get from the surgery, the less likely success would be. He’d offered freezing my sperm suggesting that there could be testing in the future that could test for genetic defects, but I summarily dismissed that idea as well.

  I shove these thoughts out of my head wondering why I’m thinking of kids with a girl I met literally days ago. I shove a pair of sneakers on my feet, grab a Cape Cod baseball cap and a pair of sunglasses and meet Talia in my living room. She’s decked out in one of my Stanford t-shirts and a pair of my old sweatpants. All of it is ill-fitting on her svelte frame, yet she’s more adorable than ever.

  “Well, that’s certainly a different look,” Talia says taking in my get up.

  I send Chip a quick text letting him know I’m taking the Maserati and headed to Talia’s apartment, and then we leave. As we pull out of the garage, I don’t miss Chip in the SUV right behind me. I hope Talia does.

  20

  New Heights

  DAVID

  “So, this is a lot higher up than I thought it would be,” Talia says gripping my hand more tightly as the enclosed glass box of the Centennial Wheel at Navy Pier nears its top height of 196 feet.

  I tighten my grip around her shoulders and pull her closer even though we’re the only two people in a gondola cab that seats ten. Desperate for privacy and not wanting to share any piece of Talia with anyone, I slipped the operator a Franklin—worth every penny.

  “I’ve got ya. I won’t let anything bad happen to you,” I tell her, doing my best to calm her. “You can trust me,” I add, hoping maybe to loosen her lips about whatever it is she’s hiding. At her apartment, while she was in her bedroom getting dressed, admittedly, I poked around her place a bit. However, in the pre-furnished apartment, there was absolutely nothing to be found. No mail. No photos. The only thing that was personal was her collection of books. Classics. The Complete Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, Tale of Two Cities, Alice in Wonderland, and others. None of the books were collector quality, rather resales from various libraries in Illinois. I figured that anything sensitive must be kept in her bedroom.

  Feeling like I had better start talking and revealing more about myself, she might then feel comfortable and open up more. I decide to share some of my most precious memories.

  “This was Darlene’s favorite place,” I tell her, opening up my deepest ache.

  “Who’s Darlene?” she asks. I can see that she’s trying to hide her shock that I’m talking to her about another woman.

  “My sister.”

  “You have a sister?” she asks, turning to me with surprise on her face. She smiles brightly and says, “I always wished I’d had a sister.” I still find it ludicrous that Talia doesn’t know about my family or me.

  “Had,” I correct her. “She died fifteen years ago this August.”

  “Oh, David, I’m so sorry,” she says, rubbing my hand and comforting me when I was supposed to be comforting her.

  I swallow back the lump that always forms in my throat when I think of Darlene. “She was my twin,” I continue. “And my best friend. She was born with cystic fibrosis. Things were looking good for her until she contracted bacterial pneumonia. It went undiagnosed for those first critical days of the illness because of the cystic fibrosis. Those last weeks…” My throat closed and my eyes welled with tears as I think of her. It was torture—for everyone. I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose to keep from bawling like a baby.

  Shaking off the gloom that had fallen over the Ferris wheel car, I try to remember the positives—acknowledge the sad, but don’t dwell… and recall the happy times—that’s what the grief therapists all told us we should do. “Anyway, she was the daredevil between the two of us. She would do whatever she could to get our parents to bring us here. She even liked to ride it in the dead of winter. And when the cars would swing—and when they were more open than these enclosed cabs—when they would swing, she would laugh, until she’d fall into a coughing fit.” I pause to compose myself again. “I guess that’s why I like coming here. The wheel reminds me of her. I wonder what she’d think of this new one.”

  “New one?”

  “Yeah. This one was put up in 2016. The one Darlene and I always rode is now in Branson, Missouri. She’d love that this one goes higher and faster.”

  “It’s nice that you can come somewhere special to remember her.” She smiles at me then looks out of the windows pensively as the wheel is reaching its crest again. “I can see why she liked it up here even though it scares me. You can see so far, you feel like you’re on top of the world… invincible.”

  “What else scares you,” I ask, taking this opportunity to dig a bit into what Talia is keeping hidden.

  “Me?” she asks, her eyes wide. She bites her lower lip and stares me straight in the eyes. I love her eyes, the soft, gentle color, and that she’s not wearing false eyelashes or a mask of makeup. She is so pure, yet I can’t shake that she’s hiding something. “Losing everything.”

  “Everything, huh. That’s quite a lot.”

  “Well, when you come from nothing…” she starts, and I feel like I’m going to hear her deepest darkest secret, but then she laughs. “I mean, not ‘nothing,’ of course. You see those news stories, though, where people get scammed or disaster hits, and they lose everything. Irrational, I know… but… yeah. That’s what scares me. Losing everything.”

  CRYSTAL

  Crap! I shout in my head. He’s on to me. He knows I’m lying, and for some reason, I just can’t find a way to tell the truth.

  He opened up and told me about his sister, something that clearly still pains him greatly, and yet, I still don’t know how to tell him that I lied about my name and my shitty family. I feel pretty sure I can tell him about my lottery winnings since money doesn’t appear to be an issue for him. He seems comfortable and not boastful about what he has—like his fabulous apartment and his awesome cars—not like someone who stole to get to where he is. I get the feeling he’s not only a hard worker but comes from money.

  But how do I explain the rest of what I’m covering up? I don’t have a loving mother and father like he has. My mom has been an alcoholic for as long as I can remember—who, by the way, I remind myself—I need to call. It’s been a few days since I’ve talked to her. I wonder if she’s still on the wagon. Still working. Still going to church.

  My brother, the jailbird, and I are not exactly close, at least not any more.

  I have no clue who my father is.

  I know that last night David said he’s mine and had me profess that I’m his, but he doesn’t even know who I am.

  Okay, maybe I�
�m not lying, just not being totally open and honest. After all, we have only known each other for, what, three weeks? And only gotten together for five of those days? You don’t show your warts until after the first month. Maybe even the first few months, right?

  David kisses the side of my head. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean to be a downer.”

  “Gosh, no. You’re fine,” I rush, realizing my quiet musings have been mistaken for something else. “I’m glad you told me about Darlene. Thank you for trusting me.” Man! I’m such a hypocrite! Why don't I just tell him? He apparently has a lot of money. Certainly, more than my $5,000 a week for life. He’s vague when he talks about ‘work.’ Is it legal? Maybe the sister story is fake. Maybe all of this is a scam.

  I wonder why I'm trying to find fault with David. Perhaps it has something to do with Leo, but I know it's also because I'm being so false.

  David smiles and wraps his arm around me, and we watch the city, so peaceful from our closed room here on the wheel, and we fall quiet for a moment.

  David clears his throat and asks me, “Are you doing anything on Friday?”

  “No. No plans. Why?”

  “I have something fun in mind.”

  I look at David, his eyes dancing with a mischievous glint.

  “What are you planning?”

  “It’ll be fun. I promise,” he assures me and kisses me sweetly.

  After we disembark from the Ferris wheel, David and I walk around Navy Pier holding hands. I feel like the luckiest girl in the world. I look at him with his baseball cap pulled low over his eyes that are covered with his mirrored Ray-Bans, and it hits me that yesterday he wore his sunglasses the whole time we were at the festival. I almost wonder if he’s hiding from someone.

  David lets out a small laugh of his own. “Crystals,” he says.

  “What? Huh?” I say, turning to him as he says my name and confused as hell with how he knows!

  “The Crystal Gardens.” I look up to where David is pointing, a sign for, sure enough, The Crystal Gardens. “My grandmother, my mother’s mother, was really into gardens. She used to bring Darlene all the time. It’s been so long since I’ve come myself.” David stops and turns me to him. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For bringing me back here. I needed it. Seeing it all with your fresh eyes… I had forgotten about how much I liked it here, too. Of course, it may just be because of the company.”

  We spend the rest of the afternoon and early evening wandering around the Pier having fun at a funhouse maze, playing with some remote-control boats, and walking through a magnificent stained-glass museum.

  “Hungry?” David asks me.

  “Starving!”

  His face breaks into his killer smile, and he says, “Good!”

  We duck into a beer garden called LandShark and get a table where we can watch the boats on the lake and eat some amazing burgers and the best French fries I've had yet. Soon a band is setting up, and they start to play. They’re really good, but the active night and the busy afternoon have worn me out. I’m doing my best to hold off the yawns, but I give that up and let one finally go.

  David, ever considerate, asks, “Is someone tired?”

  “Well, someone did keep me up awfully late last night,” I answer coyly, feeling my cheeks heat at the memory in my still-tender private parts.

  “And if I recall, someone woke me up rather early…” he answers seductively, reminding me of my own brazen behavior.

  “Fair call, but yes. I’m exhausted.”

  “C’mon. Let’s go home.”

  As we walk toward the parking garage, his comment finally registers in my sleepy mind. “Wait, whose home?”

  David stops but doesn’t let my hand go, and I am pulled into his strong arms. I look into his silly mirrored sunglasses which aren’t necessary as the sun is almost gone.

  “Mine.”

  “David, I’m tired, and—”

  David silences me with a kiss.

  “I’m going out of town tomorrow. I have to go to California. I’ll be back on Wednesday, but it’ll be a long twenty-some-odd hours that I won’t be seeing you. You’re coming home with me.” His possessive tone soars right down my spine making me tingle and leaves no room for argument. “Besides, you already have a toothbrush at my place.”

  I can’t suppress the smile that pops on my lips at that. He makes it sound like I’m moving in, and that he wants it that way. But am I going to relinquish my independence so soon?

  My smile dissolves into another yawn, and David wraps me in his arms. “And I promise to let you get some sleep.”

  21

  Left Alone

  DAVID

  I don’t even remember falling asleep, but waking up with Talia in my arms is something I hope never to forget and will be something that is often repeated… as in for the rest of my life. I can’t believe I’m thinking this way, but I cannot ignore my heart.

  True to my word, I let her fall asleep last night instead of taking her again, but waking up with her in my arms, I can’t resist. I snake my hand between her legs in search of her incredibly sensitive nub. Slowly, I start circling the bundle of nerves applying only light pressure. Talia starts to breathe more rapidly, and her hips roll sweetly into my hand. My dick responds by throbbing almost painfully. I slip a finger through her folds and can’t help the moan that escapes my throat at how wet she is.

  Talia shifts and is on her back looking up at me, a sleepy expression that has a more than wanton look. She stretches and opens her legs for me.

  Oh, good lord almighty!

  Her sweet, delicate scent reaches my nose, and I commit the fragrance to memory. And what goes with a yummy aroma? Taste. I must taste her.

  I shift so that I’m between her legs and work my way downward and lazily eat my breakfast to her apparent delight. I push her legs up and apart giving me better access, and she weaves her fingers through my hair. Based on the other night, I can tell she’s near orgasm.

  She holds my head to her. However, I don't want her to come yet—I want her to come around my dick.

  I stop what I’m doing. She lets go of my head and looks at me, pouting. I rest her legs on my shoulders and plant kisses on her hips and belly and work upward to her breasts pushing the navy and gold Notre Dame t-shirt out of the way and over her head and sucking on her perfect swells and nipples. I nip at them and suck as her feet clench inches from my head.

  My cock is practically leaping trying to get inside my woman, and I can no longer keep the big guy at bay. I raise my hips until I can feel the head at her wicked heat and then in one thrust, seat myself inside of her. Instantly, I feel her clench around me and start to spasm. I rock slowly at first pulling almost all the way out then driving home again. I drop a hand to her soft auburn curls and press on her clit, and in just a few rubs, she’s coming, her tight pussy gripping, urging my own climax onward.

  “You feel amazing,” I grunt.

  “Please,” she whispers.

  Fuck! I’m undone. I drop to my elbows, letting her legs slip from my shoulders, and I cradle her head with my hands, kissing her deeply as I pick up the pace until I come inside her.

  CRYSTAL

  I would have helped David pack, but after the morning wake-up call, I can barely move. I only moved enough to go to the bathroom and snuggle back into the soft sheets and fluffy pillows. I must have dozed off because I wake again when I hear the zipper of his garment bag closing. I figure I need to head home, so I slip out of bed and start getting dressed.

  “Hey, what are you doing?” he asks, pulling me into his arms.

  “I was just going to get going back to my place.”

  “Stay. The fridge has food. Sorry, but I peeked in yours yesterday, and there’s not much there. Have some coffee. It’s already brewed in the kitchen. Don’t rush out of here. The cleaning lady will be here around eleven. Besides,” he says, laying me back in his bed, “I want this to be my last image wh
en I leave.”

  He arranges me on the pillows pulling my hair down and over my shoulder, artfully arranging my hair, so it just tickles my nipple. The way he touches me and his liquid chocolate eyes skim over my body make me feel like the most beautiful and cared for woman in the world. He pulls my knee this way and tucks my foot that way, raises my right arm and curves it around my head, my left arm he drapes over my waist…

  I feel beautiful.

  He licks my skin tracing an artful line from my knee, across my belly, makes a figure eight around my breasts and up to my chin. My skin prickles with goosebumps, and I plead with my eyes for him to take me again.

  But he only kisses my mouth reverently.

  “There. Don’t move…” He backs away from the bed slipping the shoulder strap of his luggage over his shoulder, not taking his eyes off me. As he pauses at the doorway, I watch as he takes in my whole body, the aesthetic way he arranged me. Needing to find a little release from all the contact, both actual and his gaze, I move my legs and squeeze them together to find some release, biting my lower lip involuntarily.

  “God, Tali, you’re killing’ me,” he groans and adjusts his pants. “My plane lands back in Chicago around four tomorrow afternoon. Dinner? Seven?”

  I nod. “Have a good trip.”

  The smile that graces his lips is so… content. And I put that there? Me?

  He steps back and disappears from view.

  Once I hear the front door close, in the silence of this luxury condo I ponder the past couple of weeks. Drinks, a super fancy dinner, the boat, the Lake Shake, Navy Pier… and now he’s letting me stay in his place without him being around. All of this feels way too fast, like a small snowball released at the top of a mountain and rolling down, picking up snow along the way getting bigger and faster. Why does this feel like it has disaster written all over it? Am I being set up? Should I pull back and take a break from seeing David?