Liam slowly stepped forward until he was standing only a couple of inches in front of me. His eyes narrowed as his gaze dropped to linger on my mouth. I felt my lips part slightly and I held my breath. He brought his hands up to gently cup my face and lowered his head to claim my lips in a gentle, lingering kiss.
My very first kiss.
I couldn’t believe it came from Liam Wilde, only the most gorgeous and most popular boy ever to walk the corridors of my high-school. It was over all too quickly. He pulled away and my eyes fluttered open. He was still smiling down at me; his hands warm against my face. I could only stare back at him, speechless once more.
“I just had to do that,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“No,” I croaked. “I don’t mind at all.”
He stepped back and I had to hold onto a shelf to steady myself.
“Good. I figured that seeing as I’ve already seen you naked tonight, I might work backward and end things with a kiss. You know, just to do things a little differently.”
I put my hands over my face, mortified at the memory once more. “I still can’t believe you saw me,” I groaned. “That one is going to haunt me forever.” He chuckled softly and pulled my hands down, holding them in his own. “How about you do me a favor, and I promise never to utter a word about how good you look naked?”
“I’m listening…”
“Let me take you out sometime.”
My heart had been beating wildly since the second he’d stepped out in the pool room and surprised me, and it wasn’t showing any sign of slowing down anytime soon.
“Take me out?”
“Yes. We don’t even have to call it a date. We’ve only got a few more weeks before graduation, but I’d like to spend the time getting to know you a little better, and for you to get to know me. After all, ‘we take it for granted we know the whole story. We judge a book by its cover and read what we want between selected lines.’”
“That’s beautiful,” I said. “Let me guess. Jane Austen?”
“No,” he said, and he smiled. “Axl Rose. Guns N Roses.”
I laughed and playfully punched him in the arm.
“So,” he continued. “Can I have your number?”
But before we could continue, his cell phone started to buzz in his pocket. He brought it out and grimaced. “I think our luck’s run out,” he said. “Dad’s calling. I really need to get back to the party.”
“Me too,” I said, although it was the last thing I wanted to do.
We left the library and Liam escorted me back to the foyer where he left me to go find his Dad. I stood there, not caring that there was still a huge wine stain on my dress. I didn’t care that, for the rest of the night, Catherine and her friends giggled and pointed at me. I didn’t care about anything because Liam Wilde had kissed me, and he wanted to get to know me better.
I felt like a woman in one of the classic novels he seemingly loved so much, completely out of her depth but utterly captivated by the handsome rich gentleman who was so very mysterious and so very exciting.
4
________
LIAM
Dad enjoyed plenty of his favorite, twenty-one-year-old scotch at his birthday party, and it was with some relief that I managed to avoid his wrath. I couldn’t avoid it forever, though, and the following morning, as I was eating a piece of toast in the kitchen, he came to find me and asked me to ‘step into the study.’
I had no doubt that whatever he wanted to say to me could have been said in the kitchen. There was nobody else around. Mom was in bed with an ice pack on her head, having one of her well-known headaches. There was a strange correlation between the nights Mom could be found with a glass of champagne in hand all night and the mornings where she would be lying in bed, nursing a headache.
But she’d never admit to having a hangover. Hangovers were for common people. Those who didn’t know how to drink elegantly.
Catherine was busy in the gym, burning off the calories from the wine she had the night before. I’d heard rumors that confirmed what I already suspected. Apparently, she’d had an accident, tripping over her long dress and had spilled her drink. Regrettably, it had landed on one of the guests and, although it was such an unfortunate accident, it had caused quite some damage to the guest’s dress.
I knew better than to take my toast into the study. If there’s one thing I knew, it was that the experience of facing my father’s wrath could only be made worse by disrespecting him. When he spoke, I was to listen. I wasn’t to chew, or speak, or make a face. I was to hang on every word.
He wasted no time in dressing me down.
“I’d like to know why it was that I had to come looking for you when I should have been looking after business,” he began as soon as he closed the door to his study. I stood before his desk, my hands behind my back. He walked over to his large leather chair and sat down, glaring.
“Do you have any idea of the importance of last night?”
“I’m sorry, Sir.” It was always good to start with an apology.
I may as well not have said anything, though, as my father began a long, convoluted rant. For the duration of it, I was to stand there, listening to every word, my face the picture of contrition. Last night wasn’t about his birthday. He didn’t care that turning fifty was a milestone to be celebrated. It was simply the perfect setting to scope out the next step in business.
“In business, every party and social function is like a chess move,” Dad said, and I kept my lips still, although I could have uttered every single word along with him. “If you make a false move, you could cost yourself the game. And in this game, Son, the prize is a billion-dollar project. Last night, I needed you there. A business like ours runs not only on the efficiency of today’s players but on the promise of tomorrow’s.”
That last sentence was new to me. I had to admit it was a pretty good one, too. I almost wanted to ask for a piece of paper and a pen to write it down. Though, I wasn’t about to provoke his anger any more than I had already. And he did have a point. I knew how important it was to be present for these kinds of things. I knew that there were people in that room who could decide the next huge move, the one that was going to ensure the Wilde Empire crept even higher up the Forbes Richest List.
“It was reported back that there were wet footsteps leading from the pool to the elevator,” Dad continued, and I sensed a little more of an edge to his voice. “I really hope that rather than supporting the family last night, you weren’t taking an evening dip.”
“Absolutely not, Sir,” I said, truthfully. “I didn’t go in the pool at all yesterday.”
“I don’t understand it,” he said. “Your sister was there, being the perfect hostess, learning exactly how to conduct herself in society. Your mother was there, by my side, as she always has been. But neither of them will carry on the family name. That’s for my son to do. And, where was he? Nowhere to be seen until I’d launched a search party.”
He eyed me with suspicion, and I could tell from the way his nostrils flared that rather than calming down, he was only getting more and more frustrated.
I’d lost count of the number of times I’d been in his office, playing out this scenario, hearing about how much of a disappointment I’d been. It wasn’t that my father didn’t love me. I knew he did. But I also knew that he was under the kind of pressure that I too would come to experience once I inherited the business. He was, in his own way, trying to prepare me for it. Only, he dealt with me the way he would deal with employees. He ruled with an iron rod.
But I could see through the cracks, too. I could see the burst veins in his nose and cheeks, caused by copious amounts of scotch. I could hear the arguments between him and Mom at all hours of the night; no matter where they might be in the house, their voices loud enough to be heard anywhere. I also knew about at least two of the affairs my father had had with his assistants.
The older I got, the more I was able to see through the pretens
e. I imagine that’s why I liked to escape into a book so often. What Elle had told me the night before was true: guys like me don’t read. I knew I was a jock. I was good at sports, particularly soccer, and there was every chance that, under normal circumstances, I could go far with a career in sport. But that wasn’t to be. I was being carved into the son my father not only wanted me to be but needed me to be, to carry on the family name. Until then, the only way I could escape was in the pages of a story.
But now, real life was approaching at such speed I couldn’t escape it. Dad caught the doubt in my expression.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. “Trouble at school? A girl? Drugs?”
“No,” I said. “Nothing like that.”
“Then, what?”
I took a deep breath. This could go either way.
“Sometimes, I just don’t know if this is what I want for my life,” I said, careful to choose just the right words so as not to antagonize him any further. “My grades are such that I’m able to choose any career that I want and yet, I don’t feel I have any say in the matter.”
“Why, Liam?” Dad asked me. “What possible career could you want that I’m somehow keeping you from? What more could you possibly want from your life that school’s going to give you?”
“There’s more out there in the world than business and bottom lines,” I said, and I could see his jaw clench. “I want to see the world, and learn about history, and literature, and culture.”
The air was strained, the tension almost palpable, but I pressed on.
“I don’t know if a life of parties with vapid people showing off their wealth and pretending to be thrilled with their empty lives is something I strive for,” I said.
Too far.
I’d pushed that a little too far. Dad jumped up, came around the desk and grabbed me by the lapels. He pushed me backward and held me up against the bookshelves, sending two books falling onto the floor with a thump. I could still smell last night’s scotch on his breath.
“Now, you listen to me, goddammit,” he hissed. “You’ve had the best fucking life a kid of your age could ever want. You got everything handed to you, and you’ve never wanted for a single thing.”
“I know,” I said, my body tense as he continued to push me back. “I don’t mean that I’m…”
“You don’t mean shit,” he yelled, his whole body flooded with rage. “You made a mistake right now, I think. What you meant to say was that you’re really looking forward to going to Princeton in the fall and getting that degree in economics. And that you’re sorry for your selfish little outburst right now, and you’re going to understand that in this life, perception is everything. People invest in you, not your company. And how can you possibly get investors to believe in you when you can’t even be bothered to show up?”
His face was so closely pressed to mine that tiny flecks of furious saliva landed on my cheek. While my father had never hit me, there had been plenty of times he’d threatened me up against a wall or a bookshelf. Each time, I’d taken it, but now, I’d had enough.
I was stronger than him, taller than him, and just as angry. I grabbed his wrist and, to his surprise, wrenched it away so forcefully that he almost stumbled. He looked at me, eyes wide, breathing rapidly. But he checked himself and stepped back.
“I’ll go to Princeton,” I said. “I know my lot in life. I know my role. I’ll be the son you want, and I won’t shame you. But if you ever lay so much as a finger on me again, you’ll find yourself on your ass.”
He was speechless, but there was nothing else to be said.
I straightened my jacket before turning to leave the study.
5
________
ELLE
The sight of Colin’s flaring eyes and hands clasped over his mouth in shock made me laugh.
“Come on,” I said, prodding him with my finger. “Don’t sit there in silence. Talk to me!”
He slowly lowered his hands, but his mouth remained open in typical dramatic fashion. “Seriously. I don’t even know where to begin,” he finally said. “Let me get this straight. You were naked with Liam Wilde three days ago and I’m only finding out about it now?”
“Well, I needed to see your reaction,” I said. “There’s no way I could have told you about this over the phone.”
And it had been worth it, too. The expression of utter surprise on his face was priceless.
A shiver ran up my spine like an icy chill as I recounted how Catherine’s spiteful behavior had me running off, crying, but it was soon replaced with a warmth that stretched through my whole body as I recalled Liam’s dashing response.
Colin shook his head as I told him how the red wine had ruined my dress. “That jewel-encrusted bitch,” he jeered. “I always thought that deep down, in that catacomb she calls a soul, there must be something in Catherine that was good. You know, like a redeeming feature. But, it appears that it’s just nonexistent.”
“What I can’t understand is how Liam’s so different,” I said. “I’ve always thought he was decent, and a nice guy, but on Friday, I swear that I saw something else. Something real. He’s much more than the rich jock I thought he was. He seems to really care about things, you know?”
Colin shrugged. “Well, I guess to every Jekyll there must be a Hyde. And, in Liam’s and Catherine’s case, it sure seems as true as Spandau Ballet song.”
I giggled and then sighed, wistfully staring off into the distance, replaying the hour or so I’d spent with Liam for the thousandth time since that evening.
When I looked back at Colin, even he seemed to be daydreaming, having a far-off look on his face. “And here I was, hoping against hope that maybe he liked guys,” my best friend said. “Oh well. There goes my plan for the hottest date in the history of high school.”
I laughed, a little surprised at his confession. “Oh, so it seems I wasn’t the only one keeping a secret. You never told me you had a crush on Liam,” I said.
“Are you kidding me? Who wouldn’t have a crush on a panty-dropper like him? Those grey, smoldering eyes and that floppy hair? Not to mention that body of his…” He trailed off. “So, did he text you over the weekend, then?”
“No,” I said, sadly. “He mentioned something about texting me, but then his father called and he had to get back to the party, so he never took my number. Oh, well. Maybe its best I accept that it was just a fairytale evening, me being Cinderella at the ball, but after midnight, I went back to just being plain old Elle. He’ll probably never talk to me again.”
“You never know. He might just find a piece of paper with your number on it, discreetly slipped into his locker by your very own fairy godfather,” Colin said, theatrically pressing his splayed fingers to his chest.
I grinned. I knew Colin would do something like that. He was the greatest guy on earth, the best friend anyone could ever have asked for. But I shook my head.
“Don’t you dare!” I tittered. “I’ll get over it. But he was dreamy, Col. I can’t even begin to explain.”
“Stop it,” Colin begged. “You’ll have me break out in song if you don’t. It’s just so damned romantic I can hardly bear it.”
The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch period. We picked up our trays and took them over to the waste area. We dumped our trash and walked slowly out of the cafeteria with the rest of the students.
Colin and I were on our way to the lockers when we saw Miss Penton making a beeline for Colin. She looked as mad as a hippo with a hernia.
“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, but it was too late.
“Mister Phillips, I want that essay on my desk by the end of the day. Is that understood,” she said, curtly. “I gave you an extension because of the play, but I have waited long enough.”
Colin gulped nervously. “I just have to print it off. Five thousand words on the civil war will be winging its way over to you, Miss Penton. And it’ll be the best thing you’ve ever read,” he said, sweetly.
Sh
e raised an eyebrow. “Hmm. Let’s just say I’m not convinced.” And with that, she marched off, her heels clacking on the floor.
Colin grimaced. “I haven’t even written a single word,” he said. “I think I’m going to have to skip gym and go to the library until midnight tonight.”
He didn’t really have a choice, and we both knew it. His role as Aladdin in the school’s production of the classic story may have been the stuff of legend, but it wasn’t going to get him a passing grade in history. The essay was the only thing standing in the way of him fulfilling his dream of going to drama school. Even though we all knew he was heading for Broadway and would never need to know a thing about the civil war, he needed at least a B on the paper. Without it, his plans for college would rapidly slip away.
So, he left me at the lockers and hurried off to the library. I reached into my locker to take out the books I needed for the next period, which was Biology. I slammed the door shut. It was then that I got the scare of my life, and I jumped with fright.
Standing there was Liam, looking down at me, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to make you jump like that,” he said, casually leaning against the locker with one hand shoved into the pocket of his jeans.
“Oh, you didn’t,” I said, nervously. “I knew you were there the whole time.”
And we both knew it was a complete lie, but Liam was ever the gentleman and didn’t call me out. He just kept grinning and looking at me, his gaze slowly moving from my eyes to rest on my mouth.
I nervously bit my lower lip and stared down at the vinyl tiles lining the hallway.
“I was hoping to talk to you over the weekend and then I realized that I never got your number,” he said.
My heart was thumping in my chest, and I was sure that I must have looked like a lobster, my blush burning my cheeks. I couldn’t understand how he could be so cool and charming, while I was such a complete wreck standing there in front of him.
FIRST LOVE_A Single Dad Second Chance Romance Page 3
