by Gina Whitney
I whispered, “It’s a secret meeting. You know, all that legal stuff with Wotherspoon. But I really need to talk to him, and he’s not picking up his phone. He never does when he is in those types of meetings. But I think I know who he’s meeting up with. Um, I think his name is Cameron Sterling. I know that Klå has a database of client numbers. Could you look up Mr. Sterling’s number for me? I’d greatly appreciate it.”
I tapped my foot nervously, knowing she would not believe that cockamamie story. However, I had some good karma built up. Katie looked around, making sure no one was watching us. “Normally I would not do this. But seeing that you are Sig’s girlfriend, and you have been so very nice to me in the past, I’ll do this favor for you. Just please don’t tell Sig I gave it to you.”
Katie got right on her computer and pulled Cam’s information. She wrote down not only his phone number but his business and home addresses. Talk about a stroke of luck.
Little did I know that as I was sneaking information about Cam, someone was watching me—Jacob. He lurked just beyond our view and had been observing everything. His fiendish eyes narrowed as he plotted against me.
I thanked Katie and left as quickly as I could before I fumbled my fib. As soon as I got into the elevator, Jacob crept over to Katie. He did not waste a moment interrogating her. “I see that Lilly came by. What’s going on with her?” he asked in a lispy voice.
Katie’s subconscious read Jacob. Having worked with Sig’s simultaneously bipolar and withdrawn personality, she knew a tricky person when she saw one. However, at his young age, Jacob had not mastered the art of controlling body language to conceal his true motives. He was rigid and was motioning like he was choking an invisible person. Also, with offhand antipathy, Jacob was looking at Katie like a sadistic child readying himself to pull the wings off a butterfly.
“Ms. Amsel? It was personal,” Katie said as she immediately closed out the window on her computer. “Don’t you have some fittings today? I would hate for you to miss those.”
But Katie did not close the computer before Jacob read the phone number. He was somewhat of a savant. His Asperger’s syndrome gave him the gift of an eidetic memory when it came to number sequences.
“Oh, Katie. I’m in no hurry to be fitted. I’d rather be here with you, enjoying this conversation,” Jacob said, not letting on that he got the digits.
Katie’s hairs rose like a flag on the back of her neck. Jacob’s pinpoint pupils were dead set on her. He leaned into her personal space, and Katie went right into his. For a few moments no words were exchanged, just a weird psychic standoff. But Jacob had not counted on age winning before ruthlessness and reluctantly relented, knowing that Katie was not going to back down.
“Alright then. I guess I will go to my fitting.” But before he got on the elevator, he turned back to Katie. “Be careful around here. You never know who is gunning for you.”
Jacob got on the elevator and promptly pulled out his cell phone. He went to the Internet and did a reverse number lookup. Nothing came up.
“That’s okay,” Jacob said to himself. “I’m going to destroy Lilly one way or the other.”
Chapter Eleven
I was so relieved when Tamara called to invite me to lunch. It gave me a reason to delay calling Cam.
Tamara let me pick the spot. I am sure she was expecting me to choose some swank restaurant. But I decided to cheat on my diet and get a greasy burger and onion rings from a hole in the wall instead. The restaurant did not have a formal name, just a sign that said “burgers.” I used to eat there when I first came to New York and was beyond broke. The restaurant was small and could only fit three tables. The utilitarian atmosphere was abetted by the peeled lime-green vinyl chairs and an old-fashioned soda fountain. The Middle Eastern immigrants who ran it made no ado about the interior decoration. They made up for it with the food.
After a brief wait, the ruddy owner yelled out that our order was ready in a tongue I did not know, his hand furiously waving us over. Tamara paid, though not impressed at all by what she saw. As the food was handed to us in brown paper bags, I could see her about to upchuck. She was fully focused on the grease soaking through and almost looked like she wanted to cry. The grease did not matter to me, even though I knew it would be on my thighs the next morning.
I enthusiastically sat down, while Tamara wiped off her seat. She gave me a look and sat down. Tamara was not expecting what happened next. She opened her bag, and a whiff of that glorious burger hit her nose—that aroma of perfectly charred beef. She started looking at the burger like it was a guy she should not want to fuck but really wanted to.
“Are you sure we should be eating this?” she asked, secretly admiring the melty cheese nestled under a pile of freshly cut vegetables and a colorful array of condiments.
I laughed because I knew where all this food angst was coming from. Tamara, having grown up in an upper-class community in her native Trinidad, was a bit of a food snob. She found it nearly impossible to enjoy the fare of regular folks. I, on the other hand, grew up in a trailer park, and this was good eating to me. I watched with amusement as she smooshed her face and pulled back her locs as not to contaminate them with an accidental brush with the ketchup.
“Tam, stop fooling around and just taste it,” I said. I then took a big bite, encouraging her to do the same. As both of us bit down through the layers of flavor, we simultaneously had food-gasms. Though my eyes instinctive rolled back, Tamara had an even more profound reaction. She moaned and gripped the table with her free hand. Then she started tapping the table rhythmically with her fingertips as the burger made her hear music. As Tamara slipped down into the chair, coupled with the thick grease dripping down the sides of her mouth, she looked almost like she was having a seizure.
“Whew! Goddamn, that was good,” she said, basking in a burger-induced afterglow.
I knew how she felt. That’s how Cam made me feel every time I was with him. God, I really wanted to call him. I should have memorized his telephone number because I didn’t want Sig to know I had it. But I didn’t trust myself not to freeze up and forget it. I just had to make sure my cell phone was password locked. I had come so close to calling him several times but always lost my nerve.
I had to get some advice, so I just blurted out, “I’m fooling around on Sig.”
Tamara nearly shit her pants and blew her burger out of her mouth. “What the hell did you just say?”
“I’m dicking around. Well, not technically dicking. We haven’t had real sex yet.”
“I don’t want to hear this. I’m not an accessory to your shenanigans,” Tamara said, covering her ears.
“Please, I need some advice. I don’t know what to do. I think I’m in love.”
“And you are also very much in a relationship with Sig Krok, who happens to not only be your boyfriend but your livelihood too. Who is this other man anyway?”
“You saw him at the gala. The attorney.”
“The sexy one with the chocolate eyes.”
I blushed. “Yeah, that one.”
Tamara took a breath. “I can see your dilemma. That man certainly is a tasty morsel. So I guess you want me to give you permission to call him and make a date. Run off and fuck him. Live happily ever after, right?”
“Pretty much.”
“Well, missy, I’m not going to tell you what to do. But I will advise you to do whatever will make your heart smile.”
With that, I dialed Cam’s number. As the phone rang, my heart tried to beat its way out of my chest. I mentally searched for an excuse for calling him. Nothing came to mind. I decided to just wing it. The phone went to voicemail. Cam’s voice was so deep, resonant, and smooth. It was like he had made that message just for seducing me. It worked. I wanted to see him even more.
“I’ve got to go,” I said as I put on my coat.
“Where are you going?” asked Tamara.
“This may sound crazy as hell, but I’m going to his place. I just have
to see him.”
“You are playing with fire, you know.”
Tamara was right. I was playing a dangerous game, and if Sig caught me, that would be my ass. Sig had the money and connections to really mess me up. But something out of my control was propelling me toward Cam. There was no stopping me.
I arrived at what appeared to be an abandoned warehouse. I double checked the address that Katie had given me. Sure enough, it matched.
A piece of masking tape was positioned over an intercom button. It had a short, handwritten message on it—“press me”—in permanent marker. I did as instructed, half expecting the bell not to work. I listened hard for a chime or any type of ring coming from inside the huge building. There was just silence. I was getting ready to walk away when I heard a disembodied voice.
“Yes?” Cam said. His tone was perplexed, somewhat suspicious. I could tell he did not receive many visitors. His voice, no matter how uptight it sounded, made my hormones flow like hot lava. For a moment I was dumbstruck. I could not say a word. Hearing his voice just did me in.
Cam came back over the intercom, more irritated this time. “Hello. Who is it?”
I took a brave breath, and a squeaky utterance came out of me. “Uh, Cam. This is Lilly. Lilly Amsel.”
After what seemed like an eternity of uncomfortable silence, he said, “Take the elevator.”
I heard the automatic buzz of the door as it was opened for me then stepped into a cavernous space. It was a welcome surprise from the exterior. Someone had put a lot of effort into converting the area. Yet there was still something about it that made it feel hollow and lifeless. I stepped onto the elevator and ascended to the upper level.
Suddenly I felt so foolish—stalkerish—for being at Cam’s home. I needed a valid excuse to be there, something other than getting my freak on. I decided to say that I was there to apologize for what happened in the maze and that I had no intentions to harm his career in any way. I checked my reflection on the elevator’s shiny wall and adjusted my tits so they popped out just right.
As soon as the doors opened, I saw Cam was standing there. Of course he was looking delicious as usual. He was dressed very dapper in an all-black suit, and his dark hair was gelled down, black as an oil slick. I was getting ready to give him my spiel about our tryst in the maze and my fake apology, but he spoke first.
“I’m really glad to see you.” He did not look like he was happy to see me at all. A cloud of melancholy hovered over him. Cam tried to give me a gloomy smile but just could not muster it. He took my hand and led me into his apartment. It was minimalist in its furnishings and manly in its taste but felt just as empty as the rest of the building.
Cam was quiet. He looked at me with sorrow. My own insecurity immediately took it personally, making me think I had done something to offend him.
“What’s wrong, Cam? Did I come at a bad time? I mean I did show up unannounced.”
He took a deep breath. The air came out of him as if his breath had barbed wire in it.
“It’s not you. I’ve got to go to this today.” He handed me an invitation for a memorial service. It was for Luisa Maria Fontenelli Sterling…Cam’s mother, who died twenty years ago.
Way to go, Lilly. You are officially a piece of shit. Coming over here strictly to get fucked, while this man is dealing with some heavy crap.
I tried to make amends. “And here I am bothering you. I am so sorry. I’ll leave.”
“No, I’m actually glad you’re here.”
Cam pulled me close to his body. I could tell by the way he embraced me that he was drawing from my life force. I hugged him back and allowed him to feed on my essence as much as he could.
“Who are you going with? Friends? Family?” I asked.
Cam let me go. “No one. I have no one.”
I knew him well enough to know that normally he would tout that as a point of pride. It showed that he did not need anyone to complete or support him. But today he sounded like he had some regret over being such a loner.
“You don’t have to worry about that. No one should have to be alone at a time like this. I’ll go with you,” I said, stroking his chin. Cam smiled as an inkling of relief entered his mind.
Then he kissed me. It was a short kiss and ever so delicate. Yet it was one of the sweetest kisses I had ever known.
I didn’t mind driving Cam to the memorial service. We did not speak along the way. He mostly looked out the window. Whenever I could catch a glimpse of his face, I could see that he had been transported back in time to when his mother was alive. When an occasional smile would cross his face, he was thinking of a happy time. Sometimes his brow would scrunch and his lips would curl as he remembered something awful. I wanted to ask him so badly what was going on in his head, but it was not appropriate.
We arrived at Mayflower Memorial Gardens. It was a terribly depressing place. The winter had set the sun behind a near-permanent gray veil of sky. The bare trees and brown grass were the perfect accompaniment to all the death surrounding us.
A winding gravel road led us past endless rows of the headstones marking snuffed-out lives. We passed a funeral in progress. A young boy stood near the coffin of his mother as his father held his hand. The boy expressed no emotion like he had totally disconnected from reality. Cam looked away from the child. I could see the genesis of his aloof personality.
Luisa was buried at the back of the cemetery. I was expecting to see a crowd of people. But as we pulled up, I just saw a pastor and an elderly woman. The old woman turned around when she heard my car and immediately zeroed in on the passenger seat. Her face lit up as she recognized Cam, and though she was disabled, she sprinted over to us the best she could.
Without even thinking, the old woman opened Cam’s door and dragged him out. She grabbed him and hugged him like she were his own mother. As I got out of the car, I could see that Cam was overwhelmed by her enthusiastic response, but he relaxed and went with it.
“Cam, it has been so long, too long, since I’ve seen you. Look at you. You’ve grown up into such a good-looking man. Luisa would’ve been so proud.”
I felt a bit awkward, like a third wheel. I did not know exactly what to do except to stand next to Cam. I smiled awkwardly as the elderly woman finally paid attention to me.
“Is this your girlfriend?”
Cam did not deny me. Instead, he said, “This is Lilly. Lilly, this is Hilda Brown. Ms. Brown was my neighbor when I was a little boy. She and my mother were best friends.”
I held my hand out toward Ms. Brown, but she took me in a tight bear hug instead. “Oh, call me Hilda. It’s so nice to know that Cam found such a nice girl. I bet you are the one who convinced him to come out here.”
“No, ma’am. He invited me,” I responded as she released me.
“I’ve had a hard time getting him to come to one of these memorials,” said Hilda as she led Cam and me to Luisa’s grave. From the condition of the headstone, it was obvious that no one had visited for a while. Cam could not look at it. His eyes went to the trees, the road, to me, and anything else that would prevent him from looking directly at the grave.
The pastor observed Cam’s discomfort and was kind enough to get the memorial started so it could be over quickly. His beautiful service lasted about twenty minutes. It ended with Cam putting the roses on the headstone. He kneeled down and touched it. I could see a tiny tear forming in the corner of his eye.
Hilda pulled me aside to let Cam have some time alone with his mother and to have a word with me. “I was really worried about Cam the past years. Even though he had a rough start, he was still a happy little boy. After his mother passed away, though, he was never the same. When she died, some of him died with her.”
“What happened? Cancer? Accident?” I asked.
“Oh, child. He didn’t tell you? His father killed her when he was five. A murder-suicide right in front of him. His father was an atrocious man—a drunkard who beat Luisa mercilessly. I begged her to leave h
im, and I even called the cops a few times. But she loved him and did not want to break up the family. Old-school Catholic she was.”
I looked back at Cam, who was now giving the pastor a hefty tip. At that moment I did not see Cam the grown man but the injured child that was left behind. Cam and I had much more in common than I could have imagined.
Hilda said, “After Cam’s mother died, I wanted to take him in. But with me being so poor and having six children of my own, I just couldn’t do it. He wound up in foster care. I kept up with him the best I could and learned that he developed some behavior problems. No one likes problem children, so he was bounced around every few months. Sometimes they handled him with violence.”
“But things got better, right?” I asked.
“That boy always had a plan. Cam somehow still managed to keep his grades up and become a stellar athlete. He even became an all-American. I contacted him around that time when I had the first memorial for Luisa. He didn’t show up. He was so young and still had not dealt with losing Luisa. Years passed, and I lost touch. The twenty-year anniversary of Luisa’s death came up, and I located Cam again. I was so happy to hear he had accomplished so much. And on top of that he found love.”
Even though Cam had not corrected Hilda about the nature of our relationship, I felt it was necessary that this kind woman knew the truth. “I’m not his girlfriend. I’m just a friend.”
Hilda flashed me a wide grin. “Darling, the way Cam looks at you, I can tell that whatever you guys have runs much deeper than friendship.”
Chapter Twelve
I accompanied Cam back to his apartment after the memorial service. Despite my concerned protest, he decided that he wanted to drive back home. I knew this was an effort to keep his mind occupied and off the service.
“Thanks for going with me. You didn’t have to do that. That was very kind of you,” Cam said as he put his warm hand on my knee. I was not some sociopath who did not grasp the grave emotional atmosphere in the car. I was not a totally selfish cow either. However, I could not help that a ball of fire erupted in me that was ignited by Cam’s touch.