On the Mountain (Follow your Bliss #5)

by Riordan Hall, Deirdre

He shrugged, folding the pillow in half behind his head. “We’ve done pretty much everything but talk, so yeah, why not?”

  It was true, his accent was about as alluring as the thing he did with his tongue, but she wasn’t sure what he could tell her that would provide insight. Nevertheless, she explained the situation.

  Afterward, he looked thoughtfully at her. “You know I’m only a few years older than you and wisdom doesn’t come this early on. Also, my family is overseas, and they don’t give a shit what I do, at least I don’t think so. But I can see this means a lot to you. I guess you have two simple choices. Go or don’t go.”

  Baskia hung onto the word choice as she lost herself in Pierce’s lips again, letting the rest of the morning float away.

  Later, while tidying up, London called to her from her spot on the couch, surrounded by empty bottles and cups, “Didn’t you say your mom is sending someone over to clean up? Why bother then?”

  “I feel guilty.”

  “I don’t believe in guilt,” she said, typing rapidly on her phone. “Is it okay if I just stay here another week or so? I really don’t have anywhere else to go.”

  Baskia sighed. “Nope. Orientation is Wednesday which means, I’m out of here,” Baskia said. Her gaze trained on an antique shelf that once belonged to her grandmother. “Hey, did you see where that crystal—?”

  London shrugged and then disappeared into the bathroom while Baskia looked around for the missing crystal decanter. Someone must have felt fancy and poured booze into it. If it was missing, she was in big trouble; her mother was serious about heirlooms, especially old ones.

  A knock sounded on the door, and she let the cleaning service in, vanishing to her room to get ready for the dinner that loomed ahead.

  A few hours later, London looked up from a reality TV show highlighting two people arguing in a hot tub. “Well, don’t you look nice,” she said sarcastically.

  “Dinner. Parents. Damage control,” Baskia said by way of explanation. The blouse and skirt weren’t something she’d ordinarily wear, if she were on her own terms. She fingered the string of pearls her mom would appreciate that she’d paired with the outfit; they’d been her aunt’s gift when she’d graduated high school.

  “When will you be back?” London asked.

  “Later,” Baskia said, the reality of having to deal with her parents and college sinking in.

  “Nothing happening at the clubs tonight, but I was thinking of having a few people over.”

  “That’s probably not—”

  “I’m just going to order food, watch a movie, no biggie,” London countered.

  Baskia didn’t have the energy to argue or question the out-of-character, low-key evening. Instead, she grabbed her purse and went to the awaiting car.

  The savory smell of home cooked food met her nose—her mother only ate in on Sundays and that was with the help of Dean and Deluca—as she entered the second Manhattan penthouse her parents owned, this one overlooking Central Park.

  “Baskia dear, good to see you,” Anne said, giving her cheek a kiss as if nothing had happened earlier.

  “It smells good,” she said.

  In another room, a strident voice ended a call followed by approaching footsteps.

  “Will’s here, and your father should be along shortly. Let’s just iron out that wrinkle from this morning and move on, shall we?”

  Baskia was relieved there wasn’t going to be another conversation about the party, but there was no telling when she’d receive backlash from breaking the rules. Anne was preternaturally unpleasant and planned for reprisal, like a stealthy General. Tiptoeing around her was typical.

  “Little sister,” Will said, casually outfitted in a pair of khaki slacks and a polo shirt. He gripped her in a hug.

  “How’s it going?” Baskia asked, pleased he was there to act as a buffer; he’d caused the most trouble of the sibling pair—or at least he was the one who got caught.

  “Better than alright. I just finished my summer internship and have a couple days before the semester starts. I was thinking of heading north early and hitting The Cape for a day or two. Want in?”

  “Tempting, but I’ll be starting my freshman orientation in just a few days, right mother?” Baskia still hadn’t looked at the information Anne had dropped off that morning. In fact, she hadn’t noticed where she’d left it. Maybe the cleaning woman moved it.

  “We have a Columbia student on our hands now. Your father will be so proud.”

  Will’s phone buzzed with a text. “I’ll be right back,” he said, excusing himself from the kitchen.

  “That’s right. I was so distracted this morning I forgot to leave the information at the apartment. It’s on the desk in the study. Why don’t you grab it and give it a look through. If you have any questions, I’ve spoken with several alumnae and they’ve informed me about so many wonderful programs and opportunities available to you.”

  Baskia didn’t want to hear more. She slipped past her brother and his hushed conversation in the hall. Slumping into the leather chair in the study, she riffled through the prospectus printed with bold letters spelling out the dignified name of her new university.

  Sure, there were photographs of students wearing smiles that suggested they were having the time of her lives, but she had no interest in sitting at a desk all day, listening to a lecture in an auditorium, and studying into the wee hours. It underwhelmed her in a dull, viscous, hopeless kind of way.

  Maybe her mother was right, perhaps modeling had ruined her. She’d seen much of the world already. Yes, it was from the comfort of five-star hotels and carefully selected locations, but she knew there was more out there than the confines of the narrow door her parents had opened for her.

  At the bottom of the pile, she spied an envelope with a Vermont return address. Curious, she read the note inside. It was just a bill for plumbing repairs, but it jogged her memory of a summer, ten years before, when she’d spent a month at her family’s cabin in the wilds of the green mountain state. She’d felt so free, just her and the lake, the lightning bugs, and smoldering campfires. Those activities no longer appealed to her, but the memory felt peaceful and yet spacious, like those long ago, star-filled nights held so much possibility that was now lost to her.

  Will called, and she hastily returned to the kitchen. They passed the next hour sipping wine as he discussed his summer and semester ahead. There was still no sign of William Benedict Jr, their father, when dinner came off the stove.

  A thick line creasing Anne’s eyebrows formed as the food cooled. “Well, he’s probably hung up at the office.”

  “It’s Sunday. He’s really there on a Sunday?” Baskia said.

  Will cleared his throat. “Let’s eat.”

  As they dug into the sumptuous meal of baby fingerling potatoes, roast duck, and haricots verts, Anne asked Baskia what she thought of the material from Columbia.

  “I glanced at it. I’ll read it more carefully tomorrow,” she answered, feeling her grasp on her own life slipping away faster than ever.

  “There is important information in there. Unfortunately, the preferred classes are filling up—”

  “Mom, let’s not bore each other with that. Baskia, you’ll look at it tomorrow, right?” Will asked, coming to her aid.

  “Of course.” Baskia swallowed hard. She wasn’t ready. She considered asking Will how he felt about starting college a few years ago. He’d gone to the same prestigious prep school she did, before she started modeling full time. It had been intense, and she wondered if jumping into college right away had felt daunting to him. But she decided to wait until they were alone. There was no sense in belaboring the subject after he’d rerouted their mother.

  “Fine, but what are you going to major in?” Anne asked, not yet ready to leave the topic. “You could study law like your brother, or finance. I was thinking—”

  “What about a gap year?” Baskia blurted, overwhelmed by her mother’s insistence.

 
; “Deferring a semester or even a year isn’t uncommon. Some people I know find that it helps them pinpoint what they want to—” Will said helpfully before Anne interrupted.

  “I don’t think—” Just then, William walked in. “Wonderful, you’re home. I’ll get your plate,” Anne said.

  William poured a glass of scotch from a decanter similar to the one missing from the shelf in the apartment. She noted she’d have to look in London’s room; someone probably left it in there.

  “Will. Baskia. Nice to see you both,” he said, taking a sip.

  Will launched into a transcript of his summer internship while their father nodded approvingly.

  Anne returned with his dinner. After they ate in silence for a few minutes, she started up with Columbia again. “Isn’t it wonderful? She’ll be in the dormitory, and we’ll be able to attend all the important events,” Anne said cheerfully. “It’s great that you’ll be so close.”

  “What’s wrong with letting her stay at the apartment? I always found dorm life stifling. I lived off campus as soon as possible,” Baskia’s brother said.

  “In the dorm, she’ll be able to meet her peers. Laundry, meals, and all the other incidentals can be attended to without distracting her from her studies,” Anne chirped.

  “I guess I did meet some of my best friends in the dorms,” Will said.

  Baskia had stopped listening. She eyed her mother warily, wondering if the secret was safe.

  “I was thinking of redecorating anyway. The apartment is starting to look a little outdated; wouldn’t you say, Baskia dear?” Anne refilled the wine.

  She was thankful her mother spared the explanation. “Right.” Baskia slid the green beans around on her plate

  Will gave her a sideways look. “So, you were saying about a gap year. If you could spend it anywhere, where would you go?” Will asked, but before she could answer, even though she didn’t have an answer, he started in on a fantasy of his own. “If I had taken a year off, I would have gone to Australia, roamed through the outback, maybe gone over to New Zealand…tried surfing—” Wherever that thread of conversation led, like so many others was lost under the disapproving look of their parents.

  Baskia honestly didn’t know where she’d go or what she’d do, even if given the opportunity to push the start date for college into the future. The unknowing was what troubled her the most.

  “So, what’d you do to make mom pull out the ‘ole redecorating excuse?” Will asked later, when their father retired to his office and their mom prepared dessert. Baskia shoved the papers from Columbia in her purse.

  When they were younger, they’d play a game they called, “Any Q” It was like truth or dare, but minus the dare, and they had to answer no matter what. Usually the Q’s—questions, were ridiculous like would you drink out of a toilet, or eat boogers, but as they got older, it also gave them the chance to talk about whatever was on their minds.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Let’s just say that a few years ago Mom had to ‘redecorate’ the lodge in Vail.”

  “I thought they sold it.”

  “They did, shortly after.”

  “Did you destroy it or something?”

  “It was freshman year of college. I had a wild party there during winter break. Break being the operative word. Dad never knew and, well, let’s just say it’s probably what keeps him off blood pressure meds.”

  Baskia laughed at the possibility of her straight-laced brother causing havoc. There was more to him than she realized.

  “My turn.”

  “Wait, I want details,” she said, eager to hear more.

  He went on to describe a rowdy party involving eighteen-year-old boys, snow bunnies, and way too much beer. “Okay, so what happened? Why is Mom redecorating the penthouse and sending you to the dorms?” Will asked when he’d satisfied Baskia’s curiosity.

  “I’m really stressed about school. I don’t want to go, but we had a sorta going away party,” she shrugged, “that lasted all week.”

  Will shook his head. “Naughty, naughty girl. Is London still living with you?”

  “Yup. Mom hates her.”

  “Mom hates everyone who isn’t Mellie.”

  Baskia laughed. “No kidding. She’s still one of my dearest friends, but the girl needs to let loose. Mom has her talons in her. She’ll be showing up on the ladies-who-lunch circuit before long. It’s so sad about Emily though.”

  “I know. Mellie’s a sweet kid.”

  “Who has an uber-crush on you,” Baskia said.

  “When she was thirteen. Anyway, it’s still your turn,” Will said, swift to change the subject.

  Baskia took a deep breath. “Have you ever just not known?” she asked. “I’ve been feeling funky lately like I don’t know what I want to do with myself. When I look to the future, it looks like a blank piece of paper, and I have no idea what to write on it.”

  “I’ve never had that problem. I see what I want and then go for it,” Will said, trying hard to be modest.

  Baskia sighed; she’d counted on him to understand, but this area was where they were very different.

  “In a sense you’ve already gone away and acquired independence, with modeling. Maybe college feels like taking a step backward and is making you feel hampered.”

  “Kinda.” Baskia nodded; thankful he tried to comprehend her hole-filled explanation.

  “But…” he started.

  “I know, I know, there’s no backing out now. I just don’t know what to do. Yanno? I’m basically forced to decide, in the next few weeks, what I’m going to do for the next forty years. It feels like it has cosmic significance.”

  “Well, at least you have a choice in that,” Will said, suggesting the pressure he’d received to follow in their father’s, and grandfather’s, footsteps by studying law.

  “Dessert,” Anne called. Just then, the doorbell buzzed. “Oh, that’ll be Mellie. She couldn’t make it for dinner, but said she’d stop by for dessert. She’ll be so happy to see you both.”

  Moments later, Mellie appeared looking slightly sheepish, because she’d been conspiring with Anne, or because of her longstanding semi-crush on Will, Baskia wasn’t sure.

  They exchanged a stiff hug during which Mellie whispered, “I’m sorry.”

  The wine didn’t help the sentiment warm Baskia or move her toward forgiveness.

  After everyone gathered in the dining room, exchanged pleasantries, and took wedges of blueberry pie a la mode, Anne started in on Mellie’s college plans. “Of course Will is there, he’ll look after you if you need anything, anything at all. Isn’t that right, son?” Anne said pointedly.

  “Mom,” Baskia said, hoping to save Mellie from further embarrassment, despite their differences. Yes, she’d had a crush on him, but who wouldn’t? He was tall, fit, well spoken, and handsome.

  “I’m just saying, they’ll both be up there, so why not get together. You can take a night off from your studies now and then and have dinner. And Baskia, before I forget, I’ve arranged that dinner for us with some of the Columbia alums. It isn’t too early to start meeting the right people.”

  “About that—” Baskia started, but Anne interrupted.

  “Mellie will be leaving us tomorrow. Don’t worry, after settling her in I’ll be back in time for the aforementioned dinner.” Anne refilled her wine. “You know Baskia, you could really take a page from Mellie’s book. She’s majoring in business with a minor in finance and has her whole future planned. She isn’t afraid to succeed. You can’t model forever and some of those people you run with—I just don’t know. William, sometimes it doesn’t seem like our daughter just doesn’t appreciate the things—”

  Her mother’s lips were loose from the wine, but Baskia stopped listening. She grabbed her purse and stormed out the door.

  Chapter Four

  As Baskia turned the key in the lock, music filtered through the heavy penthouse door. The scene of London dancing on the couch in the white studd
ed Louboutins, Nels sniffing a line of who-knew-what off the glass coffee table, and faces she only recognized from clubs lounging in the apartment, made her lose the little bit of cool she’d regained on the ride back over.

  She stomped over to London ready to unleash her fury. However, in one swift motion, she hauled Baskia up onto the couch. With glassy eyes, London drew her into rhythm with the pulsing music, whooping and shouting in a singsong voice, “Baskia’s back, at long last, from dinner at mommy and daddy’s.”

  “This isn’t funny. I said no parties.”

  “But what else is there? You don’t want to go to school, you obviously don’t want to model anymore—I found that empty carton of ice cream in the trash, and another in the freezer—and you don’t want to party. If not that, then what?”

  She wasn’t sure. What she did know was that she wanted out: away from the chaos and sharp smell of booze. She wanted quiet against the insistent pump of the music.

  Pierce appeared. After taking a swig from a clear glass bottle sloshing with amber liquid, he pushed it into her hands.

  “There you are,” he said.

  “He’s been waiting for you,” London said in a sultry voice that wasn’t altogether innocent. Just then, Nels tugged her down onto his lap. Like jellyfish, they absorbed each other as if they were alone in the room.

  Baskia suddenly felt foolish standing on the couch and started to lower to the floor, but Pierce pulled her into his firm chest, wrapping her leg around his waist. He nibbled on her neck, working his way down to her blouse, and then tore it open with his teeth to expose her chest. Pearly buttons flew in all directions.

  Eyes scorched her lacy bra and string of pearls with curiosity, but as Pierce pressed his lips into hers, the combination of laughter, alcohol, and desire made her forget everything she’d convinced herself that mattered because there was no then what.

  As she lay in her bed, satisfied, Pierce excused himself to the bathroom. She picked up her phone, scrolling through her social media updates before landing on a rare update from her cousin Brighton posting a photo of herself, smiling—an even rarer occurrence—and a famous and very attractive musician by her side. She dialed.