by Rina Kent
“Stop that, Oliver,” she yells at her son who’s pulling on his younger sister’s pigtails.
Her eyes are bloodshot, as if she didn’t sleep the previous night, most likely because of the toddler whose mouth she’s shoving a baby bottle into.
“Oliver!” she yells when the kid tries to kick his sister to the ground. “Can’t I order in peace?” Her voice lowers. “For fuck’s sake.”
With their mother turned away, I wave my snack in front of them.
The kid trots in my direction first and the sister follows as their mother gets engrossed in ordering her drink.
“You want this?” I ask Oliver.
He nods once.
“If I give it to you, will you share with your sister?”
He hesitates but then nods again.
“Now ask your mom for permission.”
“Mommy!!” he screams. “Can I have it please, please?”
Dinah finally turns in our direction and notices that her kids aren’t silent because they listened to her.
She smiles at me and I smile back. This isn’t the first time I do this for her kids. It’s precisely the third. We reached a point where she sighs in relief whenever she sees me.
“Oh, my God.” She balances the now quiet toddler on her hip and takes the coffee with her other hand. “You’re a lifesaver, I don’t know how to thank you.”
“They’re adorable kids.” They’re not, but she doesn’t need to know that.
I push the plate in front of them. Oliver and his sister get busy eating as Dinah gulps a mouthful of her latte before she sighs again. She’s one of those who feel out of her element if she doesn’t have caffeine in her system.
“I swear I made the mistake of my life by getting married at my freshman year,” she grumbles while drinking. “It’s stupid, seriously don’t do it.”
I smile, appearing every bit the gentleman she believes I am. “I think it’s too late for that. I’ll be lucky to get married at all now.”
Her slurping stops as she watches me intently. Too intently, like she’s seeing me for the first time. She gives me a onceover and slightly narrows her eyes in calculation.
Bingo.
She’s seeing me from a different perspective.
“Why? How old are you?”
“Thirty-three.” I take a sip of my coffee appearing nonchalant. “I always seem to miss the right one. I don’t give up, though.”
She pauses. “Jasper, right? What did you say you work as again?”
I never mentioned my work, and she well knows that, but she’s using her woman skills to gauge what she needs to know.
“HR in C Electronics.” I give her my card.
C Electronics is one of Lucio’s few legitimate businesses, small but lucrative. And technically, I’m the head of HR for the Costa organization.
I clean the unwanted humans.
Dinah tries to hide she’s impressed as she studies my card, and fails. She’s more than impressed, she already has a plot.
She balances her toddler again, eyes fleeting over her other two children before she meets mine again. “This might seem too sudden, but I actually have an amazing friend who I think would be a great fit for you.”
Bingo again.
I feign disinterest. “No, thanks. I don’t have good experiences with arranged meetings.”
The best way to negotiate is to pretend you don’t care for what the other party offers.
She appears flustered. “Of course. I understand. But I promise it’s different this time.” She leans in to whisper. “She doesn’t like arranged meetings either. You already have something in common.”
Hmm. Interesting.
I raise an eyebrow. “Is that so?”
Dinah’s eyes light up as she pushes her kids aside, ignoring their protests and retrieves her phone. She shows me a picture of my little Petal carrying a baby, the toddler in Dinah’s arms, I suppose, and smiling softly at the camera.
I know what Dinah’s doing. She’s showing me that Petal actually cares for kids and can be a good mother, wife, the whole package. If she were a seller, Dinah would’ve had the highest sales.
Still, I have this urge to shake her and tell her not to show my little Petal’s pictures to anyone.
That’s not her fucking place.
A red mist covers my vision at the thought that she showed this picture to other men, letting them fantasize about a life with my little Petal.
Fuck them.
“Her name is Georgina —but we call her Georgie. She’s twenty-seven and a complete darling. She listens to me rant all the time and always tells me it’s going to be okay. She’s quiet and a hardworker.” Dinah blurts all the qualities as if she learnt them by heart. “And she’s so pretty.”
I can see that.
I’m only surprised how Dinah doesn’t see the fake smile on her friend’s face.
“I don’t know. She seems too good to be true. How come someone like her isn’t taken?”
“The same reason someone like you isn’t taken. Fate, my friend.”
This woman is an interesting one. I bet she still believes in fairy tales. “Give me something, Dinah.”
She bites her lip, contemplating how to break this to me without killing any hypothetical chance her friend has. “She’s just a loner. It’s nothing bad, it’s only that she prefers to be alone. She had two boyfriends, though. She can adapt.”
Two boyfriends. Interesting.
And will turn more interesting if any of those fuckers returns into her life.
I meet Dinah’s gaze with my suspicious one. “Do I have your word for it?”
A shit-eating grin nearly splits her face open. “Oh, absolutely!”
My entry into my little Petal’s life is done for.
My plan is already in motion.
8
Georgina
"Oh my God, have I got the guy for you," Dinah gushes to me at work. "You're going to freaking love him."
"I don't think so." I grimace, pushing away the remnants of my sandwich. "I still haven't completely recovered from the mess that was Dr. Martin."
My friends cringe and Katya reaches for my hand, saying, "I totally understand the hesitation, but you really wanted to meet someone before all this happened, didn't you?"
"I guess," I mutter.
I don't want to admit the truth, which is that I've been feeling more than ready for a relationship for years now. The crippling loneliness of sharing my apartment with nobody but my cats is getting to me, and just for once in my life, I want to have someone who supports me, who pushes me forward just like I've always pushed myself. I'd revealed my innermost thoughts with my friends weeks ago, before the mess with Dr. Martin. I know they want to help me because they love me, and want the best for me, but I really don't think I'm ready for somebody to break my bubble.
"Please," Dinah pleads with me. "I swear, this guy is different. I just know you’ll like him."
"Where did you meet him?" I ask her cautiously.
"At the coffee shop down the street from my apartment," she grins. "He was great with the kids."
"So why not keep him for yourself?" I wink at her.
"Too young," she shrugs with a devilish smile. "But believe me when I say he's charming, and sexy. Plus, you could cut your tongue on that jaw of his."
"Anything else you want to add?" I giggle. "Please convince me you don't want him, because I'm sure not getting that impression."
She shakes her head vehemently, convincing me the guy is perfect for me and she knew it the second she met him. After half an hour of both her and Katya convincing me to meet the guy, I finally cave and agree to meet him. The girls are delighted, and a triumphant Dinah fires off some texts before letting me know my date will pick me up at seven at my apartment. I want to regret agreeing to the whole thing, but something tells me this might be exciting, and as butterflies start to flutter in my stomach, I begin to wonder what the guy will be like.
Jasper
, Dinah said his name was.
I try the name on my lips as I get ready for him that evening. I shower and take special care to shave. Everything, from my legs to my armpits and my pussy. I hesitate before I do it, lingering with the razor over the curls on my pussy. But then I run it over, getting rid of the hair. I scrub myself with strawberry body polish and apply lightly scented lotion. I'm reminded of getting ready for my last date, with Andrew, but quickly banish the thought from my head.
Picking out a light pink lingerie set, I slide into a simple blue dress after. Two spritzes of perfume and some quick makeup, and I'm ready to go. I contemplate between my two pairs of heels – one expensive, saved for special occasions, the other a budget variation of the first which I should wear for dates – but never get the chance to pick. The doorbell goes off and I run to the door to greet my date.
I press the button for the intercom, but then there's a knock on the door. I'm not ready yet, but he's already upstairs. Fuck.
I smooth down my dress and flick my hair. Running to the door, I look out through the peephole and swallow thickly when I see the guy.
He's wearing black jeans and a leather jacket with a white shirt underneath. He's... dangerously sexy. His jaw is covered in light stubble and his eyebrows are knitted together as if he's displeased with me already. His lips are full, and he has a cigarette between them, unlit.
Right then, he looks directly into the peephole.
I jump back, quickly unlocking the door and opening it wide.
He takes his time devouring me with his eyes. The way he looks at me, from bottom to top, his eyes lingering on my bare feet, makes me feel faint. He slides his gaze over my curves, waiting a beat too long on my chest, and then up to my face. He doesn't smile when he meets my eyes, he just stares me down like he's waiting for me to faint at the sight of him or something. I'm about to write him off as cocky when something hits me.
I've seen those blue-gray, stormy eyes before.
Where have I seen them?
My heart skips a beat as he finally smirks at me, removing his cigarette and asking in a deep, growly voice, "Well? Can I come in, or are you leaving barefoot?"
"Of c-course." I bite my tongue for stuttering and step aside, allowing him to enter the apartment. The cats stare at him warily from across the room. "I'll just grab my things and we can go... These are Mr. Bingley and Mrs. Hudson."
"Cute," he mutters, but his eyes never leave me, watching me walk frantically from one corner of the apartment to the other.
I grab my handbag and a light coat and stop in front of the heels again. After a moment's thought, I put on the more expensive ones, and when I turn around to face Jasper, his smirk is all-knowing, as if he knows exactly what decision I just made.
Jasper towers over me as I follow him out of the apartment, locking the door behind us. I give him a nervous smile as I follow him to the parking lot under the building.
"Which one's yours?" I motion to the cars, and he leads me to a Mercedes that looks out of place in this neighborhood. I give him a suspicious look but climb into the passenger seat without comment. The guy actually holds the door open for me and even closes it, but instead of enjoying the gentlemanly move, I feel suspiciously like he's just successfully trapped me in his car.
Still, the worry doesn't last long. Jasper is just too freaking handsome, distractingly so. As he drives us to the cinema, I nervously fold my arms in my lap and keep glancing at him out of the corner of my eye.
"I can feel you staring at me, you know. You're not being very sly about it."
"Oh." I flush and look out the window, so he won't notice. "Sorry. I guess I'm just trying to figure out how somebody like you knows someone like Dinah."
"That's your friend, right?"
"Um, yeah." I shoot another doubtful look his way. "How well do you know her?"
"We met at a café," he shrugs.
"Just the one time?"
"She seemed pretty eager to set me up with you." He smirks and this time, it's his turn to glance at me. "Must've thought we'd work well together."
I curse Dinah inwardly for setting me up with someone she barely knows. I mean, this guy could be a psycho, for fuck's sake. Dinah's not worried about me at all, is she?
It almost makes me laugh because I'm not sure whether she's really so confident I'll be able to hold my own. But she has said it a thousand times, and so has Katya. They've told me how strong I am. How proud they are of me for overcoming my past, for moving along everything I've gone through. They know all my dark secrets – the boarding school, the foster homes. They know everything, and they still love and accept me, and I adore them for it.
"So, what are we seeing?" he asks after a moment's pause, as I realize I've been holding up the conversation with my awkward silences.
"Revenge Kill Seven," I reply smoothly. "Have you seen the first six movies?" He barely stifles a laugh and I pout at him. "Oh, don't tell me you're one of those movie snobs."
"Nah. Just not a fan of D-rated horror porn."
"Neither am I." I'm so eager to defend myself.
"Sure, Georgina." My name sounds delicious on his lips, as if it belongs there. He says it with such ease, dark intent dripping from the word.
Fuck. I realize I'm sitting in a puddle of my own juices and my cheeks flare up again. What the hell is this guy doing to me? Why am I responding to him like this? It's like he's holding a magnet that pulls my body against his, an invisible force making me want to press myself up against him, feel his sculpted body hold mine.
I shake my head to get the thought out just as we pull into the parking lot of the cinema. Before I manage to so much as unbuckle, he's opening my door again, and I get out of the car, mumbling a thank you. Something about this Jasper guy unnerves me. Something's off, but I can't quite put my finger on it, and it's not enough – yet – for me to walk out on the date. It's like a delicious current is running through my body when I'm near him, my body running on sheer anticipation.
We walk inside the cinema, and I instantly feel several pairs of eyes on us. I'm sure it's not because of me, especially when I notice two women staring at Jasper hungrily. So, I'm not alone in my thoughts that he's smoking hot... the other women are seeing it too. It almost makes me feel a little smug about being there with him, and I straighten up as we walk to the entrance.
"Wait," Jasper mutters. "Don't you want some snacks?"
"Uh..." I do some quick calculations to see if I can afford it, but I don't want to deprive Jasper of a snack if he wants one, so I find myself nodding wordlessly.
Turns out, I needn't have worried about the money at all – my date picks out several bags of candy and two giant Cokes and smoothly pays for it all before handing me my cup. I fight the smile off my face and follow him into the screening room.
We take our seats at the back, and quickly realize we'll be practically alone in the room. The movie's been playing for a month now, and it seems as if the initial crowd of its fans has already seen it. There are only a few other couples in the theater beside us, and a group of teenagers who are sitting three rows before us.
There's no time to chat, and Jasper hands me a bag of candy wordlessly as the movie starts with a scene that instantly makes me scream.
I forgot just how bloody the Revenge Kill movies are, and I shiver, forgetting about my snacks as the movie unfolds on the screen.
There's a murder in the first five minutes, grisly and terrifying and I put my palm out, splaying out my fingers and looking at the screen through them. Jasper glances at me, smirking at my fear, which only makes me angry. I glare at him before returning my attention to the screen just in time to see a woman getting cut in half.
I let out a shrill scream and Jasper leans in closer, whispering, "You know this was in the trailer for the movie, right?"
"Shut up," I mutter.
We watch the movie for a while longer, and it keeps getting gorier and gorier, making me scoot closer to Jasper without really noticing
it. I've jumped in terror at least half a dozen times now, and it seems to amuse Jasper more and more every time.
"You sure you can make it through this?" he whispers in my ear, and I shrug uncertainly.
The movie's scarier than I remember, and I'm shaking like a leaf. But I don't want to admit it to Jasper. I know he'd make fun of me, and I'm stubborn so it would bother me.
My teeth start chattering a little while later and this time, Jasper thankfully doesn't comment. But a moment later, his palm covers my hand on the armrest. I look at him with surprise, but he won't meet my eyes, casually eating candy with his other hand while he begins to gently stroke my hand, never taking his eyes off the screen. His touch sends shivers down my spine and makes goosebumps erupt all over my skin.
I want more.
The realization hits me like a freight train, and I dig my teeth into my bottom lip to get the thought out. I can't let myself want this guy. There's something about him, something a little... off. I don't quite trust him, and my gut feeling tells me I really, really shouldn't. But it's so hard not to let it happen... to resist the magnetic pull between us, the invisible force that's demanding me to ask for more, to beg for him to touch me, feel me, comfort me.
I bite my tongue before the words leave my lips. It's getting hard to focus on the movie. My attention is on Jasper, and I keep glancing at him out of the corner of my eye. I want him. I need him. I want him to make me better.
As if he can read my mind, my date slides our intertwined hands into my lap, casually interlocking his fingers. Under my dress, my legs are bare, and his fingers feel like fire against my burning skin. I want so much more it takes my breath away, but I refuse to admit it to Jasper. Once again, I try to focus on the film, but it's as if he senses that and is determined not to allow it. He begins stroking my hand again, soft, gentle and comforting strokes that instantly make me feel better. He draws circles in the palm of my hand every time something terrifying happens on the screen, and it's the perfect distraction from my pounding heart.
Somewhere around the middle of the movie, Jasper pulls our hands onto his lap. I'm instantly scared, and the feeling grows when I feel something as hard as a rock. I flush, thankful to the dimmed lights of the theater for not giving me away. I hope he won't try to make me touch him... or maybe I hope he does... Fuck.