by Amy Daws
Fuck. Me.
“Leonardo,” Sasha crooned, waltzing up and threading her narrow arms around my neck for a hug. She smelled like vanilla and expensive shampoo. Her fingers trailed down my chest and hooked onto the v of my shirt, touching my bare skin. “You look so good.”
“You look good too,” I replied pragmatically. She was in a skimpy denim skirt, platform wedges, and a tighter than tight white tee. Her breasts were smashed together in a way that made it impossible not to stare right at them.
“It’s good to see you. It’s been too long.” She turned so her back was facing mine and wiggled her butt on my groin in a provocative dance move.
I leaned back on the railing to maintain my balance as my vision blurred. I didn’t realize how drunk I was until I had to interact with other people. I reached down to hold her hips as she shimmied down my legs.
“I’m going to get a drink,” Chase growled and stalked off. I knew he hated Sasha. He made that adamantly clear because every time she was around, he bailed.
“I’m going to get a drink too,” Felicia said to Sasha and they exchanged a peculiar look that made me wish I was more sober.
“Why does Felicia still come to these fucking parties? She’s married to Blake. Don’t they have married shit to do?” I asked as Sasha stood back up and pressed her back to my chest.
Her hand crept up around my neck as her fingers combed through my hair. “She comes because she’s my sister, and she knows I’m going through a hard time right now.”
“What’s so hard about your life right now?” I asked, feeling annoyed by her presence already. I really did not want to be dancing with her.
She bumped her butt into my groin again and then twirled on her heel to face me. “Only the fact that my boyfriend of two years now wants nothing to do with me because he’s trippin’ over a ballerina after our date to the ballet.”
“We were never boyfriend and girlfriend, Sasha. Don’t over state. You had another guy lined up for that before me.” My eyes drooped from the alcohol.
She wrapped her hands around my waist, and I grabbed her arms to stop her from coming any closer. She pursed her lips together. “We were something, Leo. Something that meant something to a lot of people. Then all of a sudden, you flipped a switch and decided to date below our class.”
“Our class,” I scoffed. “Do you hear yourself right now? You sound like an entitled bitch.”
“I’m entitled alright. We had a plan, Leo. It’s been laid out for us from the beginning. We had a really good thing going, and now you’re trying to throw that all away.”
“I’m not throwing anything away!” I snapped aggressively and she flinched. “I’m not even fucking with her anymore alright?”
She recomposed her face to that cool, calculated look I’d grown accustomed to. “Good. Now why don’t you let me take you upstairs and remind you why the Gold chose me for you.”
I laughed harshly. “This isn’t Pride and Prejudice, Sasha. The Gold hardly arranges marriages.”
She nervously looked around at my loud mention of the Gold. Sasha was one of the few women that knew about the Gold, but only because she was in “the circle,” whatever the hell that meant.
When she felt comfortable that no one was listening she leaned up to whisper in my ear. “The Gold places people where they need to be placed so that we can maintain our level of society, Leo. Stop acting like you don’t know this. Now take me upstairs so we can put all of this to bed.” She pulled away and winked at me.
My pulse raced at the mention of the Gold. I leaned in close so our lips were nearly touching. Her eyes flashed with arousal, and her tongue darted out to wet her glossed lips.
I paused just centimeters away from her lips and whispered, “I’d love nothing more than to take you up to my room, bury my dick inside of you, and lose myself for the next hour. But the moment I’d cum—the moment I’d explode and feel that fucking sweet bliss that only an orgasm can give—it would be her face I’m picturing. Not. Yours.”
Her chin dropped, and her eyes turned to ice. She shook her blonde hair back and her expression turned glacial. “I don’t care, Leo. Picture whoever you need to. Whatever gets the job done. I won’t fight you on it because we belong together.”
My lip curled up in disgust. “That’s where you’re wrong, Sasha. The girl I end up with needs to have a fuck ton more fight in her than this.”
She started to rebuff and I cut her off. “Just go, Sasha. We’re done. And we’re not only done because I’m not with Adeline. We’re done for a hell of a lot more reasons.”
“You are going to regret this, Leonardo!” She stalked off and rejoined her sister who was apparently watching our whole exchange.
I rolled my eyes and sat down on the bottom step, shoving my hands through my hair. I hope to fuck I was doing the right thing here…because right now, all I felt was utterly and completely helpless.
CHAPTER 27 ~ Adeline
It went to voicemail.
Again.
For almost a week, I’d left messages for Leo to call me back, asking him to talk, demanding to speak with him…begging. Ugh, I wished I hadn’t left any because what I really wanted to say—needed to say, got stuck in my mouth.
I loved him, and he couldn’t return a call. How had I misinterpreted his feelings for me so profoundly?
No matter how I analyzed the past couple weeks, nothing seemed to make any sense. I began to hate myself for thinking about him every spare moment. What was worse was that I couldn’t stop seeing the pained expression on his face, the torment he refused to share with me, the misplaced hate in his eyes.
It was in that moment that I’d gotten everything I’d ever dreamed of...but lost everything worth fighting for.
I’d fight, but I had no one to fight. Leo wouldn’t even so much be bothered to pick up the phone, much less to exchange blows when I stopped at Gamma Phi house.
In my dressing room at Focal Pointe, I stared into the vanity mirror, wishing my eyes didn’t look so blood-shot, wishing my cheeks didn’t appear so concave, wishing my stomach would stop grumbling. Evidence of the breakup was written on my face and on my body. I couldn’t hide the fact that the last series of never-ending days were killing me. They had mashed together into a marathon of constant torture. I’d thrown myself into every double shift at Cuppa, stayed late at the studio, anything to get Leo out of my head…and then when I finally dragged my ass back to the apartment, I’d be welcomed by unrelenting bills and notices, not to mention the fine for damaging the baseboards from my bathtub flooding over.
Ivan peeked his head through the crack in the door. “You ready?”
His face fell when our gaze met. He strode into my dressing room, sat down on the vanity bench, and wrapped his arms around me. He was kind enough not to say anything about my impromptu weight loss. It was all I could do to keep tears from escaping.
I was a mess...a fucking disaster.
“When you fall, you fall hard.” Pulling away, he tucked my hair behind my ears. Cupping my face in his hands, he dusted a light kiss on my forehead.
When I pulled away, he snatched my phone out of my hands. As soon as he had it, he moved away from me and scrolled through the call history.
“Addy girl, he has never called you back.”
I knew it. My patheticness was off the charts. I ran over to him as he circled around my room. I tried to get it back, but he just held it above my head.
“Ivan, I swear to God if you do not give that phone back to me I’ll—”
“You’ll what?” His eyes narrowed. “Stop eating? Stop showering? Pull double shifts? Show up exhausted to practice? Blow off your friend’s calls? ”
What was this? Five tips to surviving college heartbreak? “You’re one to talk! Did you forget that I was there for you when your heart was ripped out?”
Ivan’s jaw snapped together. I hated to throw his ex-girlfriend in his face but he acted like I was—
“Your dreams
are going to slip through your fingers if you keep this up,” Ivan said through clenched teeth. “Pull yourself together. We have a photo shoot in half an hour. You look like hell.”
He turned around and slammed the door behind him. I had never felt so alone in my life. The truth sucked. And it wasn’t like Ivan wasn’t telling me like it was. I needed to pull myself together. So I put on my face—caking on enough makeup to make the dark circles under my eyes less dramatic, and bright red lipstick to add a little color to my face. Top it off with enough eyeliner so Ivan wouldn’t have more on than me.
He’d appreciate it.
I stared at my phone, hoping that I’d momentarily gone deaf and that Leo had called. I hadn’t. I went to dial his number. It had been erased.
Ivan.
I scrolled to the phone history and found his digits and hit send. Again, it went to voicemail.
“Leo, it’s me...I...I know that you...” My voice choked. I couldn’t get the word out...cared for me. It felt like too much of a lie. “I’m falling apart. I wished you’d...”
After leaving that horrible message, I dressed in a pretty pink tutu and white leotard, then went to the auditorium. A camera crew was already setup. An assistant messed with Ivan’s face, getting him ready for the shoot. Our faces would be plastered all around the City, on billboards, magazines, television, and social media. Whoever was our marketing rep was earning their keep because I could hardly walk a few city blocks without seeing advertisements for the much anticipated military-inspired dance entitled, Our Strength.
I took my position beside Ivan and smiled brightly. It didn’t reach my eyes; it was the best I could do. Ivan was instructed to wrap his hand around me like he was getting ready to toss me into the air.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
He nodded and flexed his arms like the photographer for the Focal Pointe Program wanted. The camera flashed a couple times before Ivan loosened his grip and gave me a peck on the forehead.
“Oh, Addy girl,” Ivan whispered, as the photographer changed lenses and spoke to the director about the next pose. “For some people it takes a while. Others feel it right away. The thing is that there aren’t any rules to love, so stop trying to play by them. It’s killing you.”
“Then I’ll die of a broken heart.” Tears stung my eyes. “At least I’ll know I’m being true to myself, Ivan. I…I love him and I don’t know how to stop.”
“You don’t have to pretend it doesn’t hurt, Addy girl.”
Instead of meeting his gaze, I looked at the photographer that was shooting nonstop again. He captured everything, even my fake smile.
When the shoot was over, Ivan asked, “Hey, why don’t you come over tonight for supper.”
“Can’t,” I replied. “I am pulling a double.”
Ivan blanched. “Just come stay with me, Addy girl. You’re working yourself sick.”
“It takes my mind off of things.” I shrugged. The truth was I didn’t want him to hear me cry myself to sleep at night. I couldn’t do it. It was tempting but I wouldn’t chance what we had.
After practice, I headed back to my apartment studio to get changed for work. My phone finally beeped. My heart raced. A picture message.
Blake—Felicia sent this to me tonight.
A picture filled the screen. It was Leo; his hands were raised in the air like he was dancing. Sasha was grinding up against him.
Horrified, I threw the phone on my futon, hating that I cared so much. Hating that this photo affected me. Hating that I’d fallen so hard for a man who clearly was done with me.
Marching over to my bathroom, I pretended not to notice that the linoleum was curling above the whining floor boards. I pulled open my medicine cabinet and took out the ring Blake had given me. The offer Blake had made me the morning after Leo embarrassed me onstage rang in my ears. I hated that I was even considering it.
This ring represented so many things to me. I valued it even if I couldn’t stand the man who’d given it to me. It was symbolic of poor choices and silver linings. It was a world to which I didn’t belong in nor want. It was symbolic of how manipulating love could be. More importantly now—it was a representation of freedom.
CHAPTER 28 ~ Leo
Richards & Brown Advertising was in the Marine Midland skyscraper, right in the middle of the Financial District of Manhattan. R&B specialized in advertising for high profile clients and managed a lot of celebrity-featured ad campaigns amongst hundreds of others.
As I stepped off the elevator and onto the 51st floor, Marge, my father’s receptionist, jumped out from behind her desk and came scurrying over to me, pulling me down for a hug.
“Leonardo! I haven’t seen you in ages!” Marge had been with R&B for nearly twenty years now. She was a short, stocky woman who always wore bright blazers rolled at the sleeves. Top it off with her knotted pearls, and she was simply a stylish Grandma circa 1980.
“Hey Marge.” I forced out a stiff, transparent smile. I loved Marge, but growing up around her my whole life I knew she was going to see right through me.
“What in the… What is going on Leo?” She placed both of her wrinkled hands on my cheeks and shoved my face around, scrutinizing my every feature. “I’ve never seen your cheekbones like this.”
She pulled out my tucked in button down shirt and rubbed her hands harshly over my bare abs. “Oh my God, Leo, are you eating anything at all? I don’t feel any cushion here!”
I rolled my eyes, looking down at her short stature. “I’m eating,” I placated, hoping she’d let it go.
It had been almost two weeks since I’d last seen Adeline. Her daily phone calls stopped three days ago. I feared that what I had hoped for had finally happened…she’d finally given up on me.
“Chicken breast and white rice is not food. My mother always told me that any food without color ain’t worth eatin’. You are coming to my house next Sunday for lunch. I won’t take no for an answer.” She pierced me with a hard stare that told me fighting her would get me nowhere.
“I’ll be there,” I mumbled and offered her a lopsided smile.
She smiled proudly. “Go on in, he’s waiting for you.”
I made my way past her desk and pushed back the large double doors. Entering my father’s expansive office always made me miss my grandfather. I had more memories in this room with him than I did with my own father. The office actually looked more like an apartment than a place of business.
“Leonardo,” my dad said, pulling down his black reading glasses and eyeing me carefully. Douglas Richards, my father, the CEO mogul, stood up from behind his ten thousand dollar desk and grabbed his grey suit jacket off the back of his chair.
“You ready for the meeting?” I asked impatiently. I was here for a board meeting that was a required quarterly attendance. I was not in the mood to be chatty with my father after how things had gone down at the last Brotherhood meeting.
“It’s not for another hour.” He walked around his desk, buttoning his jacket.
“What do you mean? You told me nine.”
“I wanted you here early to talk.”
I frowned. Talking was a peculiarly unusual request. My dad and I hadn’t really talked since I started at Columbia, unless it was Gold related. We weren’t super close before, but it seemed like when I started at Columbia and joined the Gold, our relationship shifted. Not in a bad way necessarily. Just different. I ignored it because I was caught up in my brand new world of fraternity life. But if I was being honest, I did miss what we had before he started running R&B.
“Sit down, Leo.” He gestured to the long black leather couch. It sat along the floor to ceiling windows with an aerial view of Manhattan. “Your mother says you still aren’t taking her calls.”
My jaw ticked viciously as I recalled the venomous insults my mother had said about Adeline. I settled on the couch and turned so I could look down at the city view instead of into my father’s faux concerned expression.
“And Chase says
you’re no longer seeing Adeline Parker.”
“Oh, you and Chase talk now huh?” I snapped. I thought the fucker had my back.
“Don’t you hold this against Chase. He’s just being a brother. A true brother.”
“Brother?” I laughed sarcastically. Right now the Brotherhood of the Gold and the fraternity weren’t high on my list of places I looked for comfort. I met my father’s gaze. The expression on his face surprised me. It wasn’t arrogant or condescending. There was softness there.
He sighed heavily and stood, pinching the bridge of his nose as he strode over to the window. “It didn’t always used to be like this you know.”
“What didn’t?” I asked in confusion.
“The Gold.”
Facing me, my father watched me with wariness. His brow furrowed as if he was in pain. “A brotherhood isn’t supposed to be about demands, power, and greed. A brotherhood is supposed to be a foundation to raise you to your highest potential.”
“What did the Gold used to be like?” I was fascinated that we were actually discussing it.
This question elicited a genuine smile as he got a faraway look in his eyes. He turned toward me and slid both hands in his pockets. “It used to be about girls mostly! We were all just horny college boys trying to get drunk and laid.”
I cringed but my father chuckled. Then his face grew serious again. “You know…your grandfather wasn’t a member of the Gold.”
“What? But…I’m a legacy,” I said with confusion. “I thought we all were.”
“We were, we are…sort of. It’s tricky.” He walked back over and sat on the couch, laying one leg sideways so he was facing me and mirroring my position.
“You see, Leo, the Gold is only as good as its leader. The brotherhood is a dictatorship, not a democracy. So one bad apple really can spoil the bushel. When your grandfather went to Columbia, he was president of Gamma Phi. Just like Micah. Your grandfather was in line to become Master of the Gold, like Sedric. But the higher ups, the founders of the Gold, wanted the brotherhood to be run a certain way…a way that your grandfather disagreed with.”