Jonathan felt my leg tense. His hand rubbed gently, and his touch comforted me. I relaxed, and he patted me as if I had pleased him.
“River, I wasn’t aware you were bringing a guest.” My mother obviously didn’t approve of the man sitting beside me. He could have been Jesus himself, and she would never have approved.
“It was a last-minute decision.” I turned to Jonathan. “I’m so glad you could make it.” We stared at each other until my father coughed to get our attention.
“What do you do, Jonathan?” My father knew quality when he saw it. Everything from Jonathan’s hair down to his Italian loafers screamed money. When money was screaming, my father was listening. He saw money, and money meant donations.
“I do a lot of things, Mr. Roberts. My interests vary, from finance to property management. It’s important to diversify. You wouldn’t want to put all your eggs in one basket now, would you?” He stared at my father. His eyes were scanning him, much in the same way he did me the first night we met.
For whatever reason, I thought of Jade in that moment. She told me her situation was risky because all her eggs were in the duo’s basket. It may be risky, but at least it was simple. Every time she went home, she knew what she was getting. Or did she? Obviously, the duo had thrown her a curveball. Was anything simple these days?
“Well, Mr. Ferris, I would say it depends on whose basket you’re choosing. Are you a religious man?”
My father was digging. I wanted to grab a proverbial shovel and bash him over the head.
“I wouldn’t call myself a religious man, but I’ve had a lot of heavenly experiences.” He squeezed my knee again, and I wondered if he considered his time with me divine. I replayed the opera in my head and shivered at the memory of taking him into my mouth. The music hit its climax at the same time he did. It had been a thing of beauty.
My mother chimed in, ruining my perfect moment. “How do you know my daughter? You appear to be quite a bit older than River. Some would raise their eyes to your motives.”
In my mind, I’ve now taken the shovel and smacked her in her puckered mouth. Her beady little eyes never wavered from Jonathan.
“I can assure you that when it comes to River, I always have her needs in the forefront of my mind. She is lovely and smart. You should be proud of her accomplishments. Earning an MBA is not easy. Where did you go to college, Mrs. Roberts?” He hit his mark.
“Education is wasted on women, Mr. Ferris. We’ve been telling River that very thing since she started college. She doesn’t need a career. It’s a waste of time and money,” she said. My father earned his bachelor degree in Christian Ministry. My mother never went to college.
“I disagree with you. In this day and age, you need every edge available to make it. River was wise to enter into her master’s program right away. As for how we met, we have mutual acquaintances who introduced us.” His eyes turned to me, and in them, I saw the same look I saw when he told me I know what you need.
“One of the best days of my life,” I murmured, hoping he would understand the depth of my intention in the comment.
“Hey, Sunshine, you don’t mind if I order for all of us, do you? You know how I love Dim Sum.” He looked at my parents. “Do you mind?”
They shook their heads, and Jonathan ordered a buffet of choices. My mother would have a conniption at the waste. I’d be hearing about it until I was thirty.
She continued to eye the man next to me. I could see her trying to figure out if I was sleeping with him or not. She was calculating her next move. Unfortunately, she wouldn’t get the opportunity because Jonathan set the pace for the day.
“We hate to eat and run, but River and I had the day planned. She insisted we take the time to meet you for lunch. Unfortunately, our schedule is very tight, and we only have about an hour to spare. I’m sure you understand, given the pulls you must feel from your community.”
Oh, the man was smooth.
I don’t think my parents had ever been told that someone didn’t have time for them. They had always been treated with importance, but it was obvious Jonathan wasn’t impressed or intimidated by them. He had come to protect me, and that warmed my heart. I knew he had more important things to do, but for whatever reason, this man continued to validate me in the most wonderful and unexpected ways. If he was not careful, I might actually believe I mattered.
My mother began a retort, but my father silenced her by raising his hand. I’d always wanted to do that. Just once. To raise my hand and have her shut up would have been wonderful.
Adding insult to my mother’s bruised ego, my father said, “Wouldn’t it be nice if all women were seen and not heard?” No one appreciated my father’s attempt at humor except for my father.
Jonathan’s hand stiffened on my knee. I’d never seen him be anything but calm. To the unsuspecting eye, Jonathan always appeared peaceful and easygoing, but I felt something change.
“Mr. Roberts, I mean you no disrespect, but you’re an asshole. Why exist if you have to be seen and not heard? In fact, it’s my understanding you preferred River when she was unseen and unheard. I spent my time driving over here wondering how a man of God could treat a beautiful creation of God with such disrespect. Now that I’ve met you, I see you hide behind God not to serve him, but to pretend He serves you.” I’m not sure if my mouth dropped open or not, but I swear the entire table was silenced by Jonathan’s words.
My heart beat boldly against my chest. My eyes stared at my lover. As always, he saw me, and he knew what I needed. I needed to be free of my parents’ interference. He knew I could never do it on my own, so he’d stepped in to help.
“You have no right to talk to us that way.” My mother’s face scrunched as she blustered. “You don’t know River. She was an awful child, too pretty for her own good. She inflamed the boys around her to sin. We’ve been trying to save her all her life.”
That’s when I’d finally had it. I didn’t need Jonathan to protect me, but I was grateful he was there.
“I’ve had it with you two. All my life, you accused me of being things I wasn’t. You started calling me Jezebel when I was twelve. Do you realize my first sexual encounter was at sixteen—almost seventeen—and I did it to piss you off for locking me in the chapel for three days? I had nothing to eat but the grape juice and white bread left for communion.”
My father piped in and said in a voice as cruel as a winter storm, but colder, “You were sucking that boy’s joystick behind the pulpit. You shamed me in my own home.”
“You’ve been calling me a whore for years. I figured if I was given the title, I might as well live up to the name.” Jonathan wrapped his arm around me and pulled me to his side. If I had my way, I would have crawled into his lap.
“Are you ready to go?” He turned my head to look into my tear-filled eyes. His amber flecks danced in the light. Eyes that warmed me from the inside out.
“No.” He looked startled at first but only nodded his head. “I have more to say.”
My mother leaned across the table, and I flinched. I expected to catch the flat of her palm, but instead, I caught the edge of her sharp voice. “You will never be anything, River. You were never anything but ungrateful.”
The table rattled as Jonathan’s fist slammed down on the top. His keychain hopped several inches by the force alone. “Stop.” Looking at my parents, he delivered his message with cool clarity. “River is everything that’s wonderful in the world. She is brightness and light. She is compassion and hope. She is laughter. She’s my sunshine, and I will not let you dim her light in any way. You will not call her or contact her. If she ever wants to speak to you again, it will be on her terms.” He pulled a handful of twenties from his pocket and tossed them on the table. “Lunch is on me. The shame is on you.”
Sliding from the booth, he offered me his hand. I placed my palm in his, willing to follow him anywhere. I didn’t look back. No, from that point on, the only direction was forward.
; By the time we were on the street, his hands were on my face, wiping the tears that fell freely.
“It wasn’t my place to fight for you. I didn’t want you to face them alone. They sounded awful by your description, but they were worse in person. How did you turn out so wonderful in spite of them?”
This crazy man just saved me from weeks of self-loathing and hate. And he stood in front of me and apologized.
“You were amazing.” I was sure I looked like a fool. My eyes were glazed over with tears and affection. I fell into his arms and buried my head in his chest. “I love that you came. No one has ever stood up for me.”
“It was an impulsive choice, and I should have asked. Shall I get you home? Howard is off, so you will have to trust my driving.” He dangled his keys in front of my face, the Rubik’s Cube held between his fingers.
“You used the keychain.” It shocked me to see his keys hanging from the dime-store bauble. He’d placed it on the table like it was a trophy. Now he held it like it was a treasure.
“It means something to me. You took your time picking it out. It was thoughtful and humorous. I’ve tried it several times, but I’m awful at it. When I see it, I think of you.”
Pulled next to him, he walked me down the block and away from the restaurant, away from my parents, away from my past. Despite what should have been devastation, I felt like I was floating.
He sounded like what we had was something more than what it was. It was sex. Great sex, but when it was broken down, it was an exchange of money for services.
Sitting with my parents today, I realized their taunts had become a self-fulfilling prophecy. For years they’d called me Jezebel, and I’d had no idea what that meant. I was young and thought it was a gypsy name, like Esmeralda from the animated cartoon. My dark hair and blue eyes always caught people’s attention. At twelve or thirteen, I was happy to have that moniker. Finally, one day I looked it up and saw it was a biblical name associated with painted women and prostitutes. What parent starts feeding a young mind that crap early on?
“I can get home. You don’t have to take me.” He ignored me and kept walking.
“What do you think about Greek food?” It dawned on me that it was after two and neither of us had eaten.
“You mean like kebabs and gyros?” My stomach grumbled at the mention of food. I was famished. What a shame my parents would feast on dim sum and Jonathan’s generosity.
“Yes, like hummus and falafel and pitas and tzatziki. I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry and there’s a great little Greek place around the corner. Let’s get it to go, and we’ll take it to your place.”
Holy shit. He wanted to go to my place. “You don’t want to go to my apartment. It falls well below your standards.”
“How do you know what my standards are? Besides, I’ve seen the lobby, so my expectations are pretty low.” His look of concern was replaced by a smile. A sweet, heart-warming, panty-wetting smile.
Smiling, I tried to sound indignant but failed miserably. “You didn’t just put down my home without seeing it, did you? I’ll have you know, my apartment is much nicer than the lobby.”
“Let’s get lunch and go hang out at your place.” He knew he was getting his way, but it was funny to watch how excited he got when he did.
“My roommate might be home. Is that a problem?”
“Nope, happy to meet her.” He continued to amaze me.
“All right, I’m buying since you bought the dim sum. Also, today is off the clock.”
“Are you taking me on a date, Ms. Roberts?” I loved his playful manner.
“Yes, Mr. Ferris, I think I might be doing exactly that.” Wouldn’t that be wonderful?
“What are my chances of getting lucky? It’s been a taxing day.” When I looked at him, I saw a young boy instead of a man. He was happy and carefree, and I was charmed.
“What kind of girl do you think I am?” Obviously, he knew what kind of girl I was. He knew my body intimately. Next was my mind.
“My kind.”
And with that, our trip to Greece was stalled with a kiss. Why couldn’t this man be mine? Why couldn’t there be a smidgen of hope to keep him? Why? Because I was a paid commodity and he was a client. But for today, I could pretend he was mine, and I would.
We rounded the corner and entered a hole in the wall called the Caspian Cafe. After purchasing two gyros, a bag of falafels, and a pint of hummus with pitas, we were on our way to his car.
A Maserati Ghibli. He drove a freaking navy blue Maserati. “You have this amazing car, and you let Howard drive you around? What’s wrong with you? I would be in this car all the time. It’s amazing.”
“Do you want to drive?” He held out the keys.
I contemplated the option for a minute and shook my head. There was no way I would want to drive this car in the congestion of the city.
“No way. What’s the point of driving a Maserati if you’re forced to drive under forty miles per hour? That seems criminal.” On the open road, I might have considered it. Closing my eyes, I could see myself gun the accelerator and go from zero to sixty-five in four seconds flat. Oh, the thrill of a fast ride.
“It’s one of the reasons I use Howard. Also, while Howard drives, I get to do naughty things to your body.” The man just made me soak my panties. The ones I wasn’t supposed to wear when I was with him.
Beep, beep.
The alarm disengaged, and we both hopped in. The engine roared to life with the push of a button. What a turn on. Hot men, fast cars, and gyros. This day couldn’t get any better. Not true…the minute we got naked, the day would get infinitely better. I wondered if he would let me lick hummus off him. He could be my human pita.
Laughter erupted from my chest.
“What’s so funny?” He glanced at me but turned his eyes back to the road.
“I was thinking dirty thoughts. I was hoping I could dip you in hummus and lick it off. You know, hummus to make you cummus.” There goes my lack of filter, but seeing his shocked expression made it worth it.
“You’re killing me, Sunshine.” He glanced my way again and frowned.
“What are you looking at?”
“I’m trying to find a distraction that will stop me from getting hard. That sweater is working for me. Please tell me that outfit is going in the trash the minute we get to your place. I’ve never seen anything less attractive.”
“I’ll have you know, my mother thinks this outfit is too revealing.” I tugged at the round neck that could almost be called a mock turtleneck. Another inch, and it would sit under my chin.
“What the hell does it reveal? Your head? It’s awful.” He reached over and touched the material. “And it’s itchy. How have you tolerated this against your body all day?”
The truth was, I’d been pulling at it all day because the rough knit chafed my skin. “It’s been a challenge, but I’ll happily toss it when we get to my place.”
“There better not be others like it in your closet. You should be dressed in silk and cashmere, not a fifty-fifty polyester blend.” He looked appalled at the thought.
I didn’t respond. I had an entire parent-friendly wardrobe taking up real estate in my closet. ‘Parent-friendly’ was a loose term, since nothing I wore short of a gunnysack was acceptable. I’d been the perfect example of ugly-clothes-wearing good people.
“I have some sorting out to do.” The truth was I had a lot of sorting to do, both in my closet and my mind.
“Hmmm, speaking of your parents, how are you doing? This must have been a shock to your system.” He turned onto my street and began to look for a place to park.
“No, it was a long time coming. I was too much of a coward to call them on their shit like you did. I was afraid of losing them…when in reality, I never had them. I had their hate and disgust. I had their contempt and disrespect. Today, you set me free, and I will always be grateful.” I felt grateful, but I couldn’t help the feelings of mortification from what he’d learned
about me today.
He knew about the blowjob behind the pulpit. He knew they’d locked me away for three days.
“I can’t imagine what that feels like. I’m sorry for your loss.”
“You can’t lose something you never had.”
In a swift second, I felt free. I’d tried for years to be the perfect daughter. I floated between angel and devil to be seen, and all along I was a prop for their benefit. I was used as an example, a teaching element. I don’t think my parents meant to be cruel, but they were. I think they used what they had to teach others. Too bad I was created to set the example. Sadly, their lie became my truth.
Chapter 17
There was no use feeling ashamed of where I lived. My life was a string of dismal facts. I lived in a mediocre neighborhood, in a rent-controlled property. I attended the university and now paid for it with the only thing I had to barter—my body.
What appeared to be a hellhole from the lobby actually opened into a charming apartment. The eclectic mix of furnishings gave the place a delightful cottage look.
Led Zeppelin’s “Stairway to Heaven” blared from the stereo, about ten decibels past hearing loss. At the kitchen table, Tiffany sat clipping coupons. With a push of a button, I rescued our hearing by cutting the volume in half.
It was out of character for me to bring men to our apartment. Tiffany flashed me a smirk shortly after scanning Jonathan’s body from head to toe. Jealousy ripped through me as I watched her eye-fuck him from her chair.
“Who’s the hottie?” Mine.
Inside, I was screaming he was mine, when in reality nothing could be further from the truth. I watched him to see how he would react. He looked mildly amused. The crinkles in the corners of his eyes shifted before he did. He wrapped his free hand around my waist. His other hand held the bag with our food. The arm around me felt possessive. It was such an incredible feeling to have someone claim me, even if it was for show.
“This hottie belongs to me, and his name is Jonathan. We’ll be in my room if you need us.”
I pulled his hand from my waist and led him through the living room and down the hallway to my room. It wasn’t much to look at, but it was tidy. Some habits were hard to break, and making sure my room was perfectly in order was one of them.
The Dean’s List Page 15