Silk and Thorne

by L. K. Rayne

What do I taste? Maybe I had overestimated how well I knew Ethan. After all, it had only been a short summer.

  Thinking quickly, I slid the glass over to him, stalling for time. “Help yourself.”

  He lifted the scotch up to his nose and inhaled deeply. He tilted the glass up for a reserved sip and I noticed my lipstick stain on the opposite side of the rim. Daringly close to his mouth.

  He held the glass still for a moment.

  Then he closed his eyes and took a deeper draft. Savored it.

  After what seemed like an eternity his eyes opened again. His pupils refocused slowly, as if he were returning from a dream or a memory. His face was brimming with something warmer than the intensity of before. It was something new. An expression that I had never seen in all the photographs that April had shown me.

  “I’ve never quite experienced the Glenn Mackay in that way before,” he said, finally setting the whiskey down, “How interesting.”

  He smiled at me.

  I’d put the ice in there as a way to needle him, but now he was taking this far more seriously than I’d expected.

  Not certain of what it was, but sensing that there was some imperceptible shift in the conversation, I decided to make my exit.

  “Please, have the rest of it, then. It would have been wasted on me anyway.”

  I slipped off the barstool.

  “Wait,” Ethan said, reaching into his pocket. He leaned closer into the space between us. In one smooth move, he took something out of his pocket and set it on the bar.

  Sweeten the Pot

  On the bartop sat a tall stack of multicolored casino chips.

  "What's this?" I asked, eyebrow raised. Even though I’d been planning on leaving, I didn’t.

  Ethan nodded toward the table games. "Let's gamble."

  "I don't think having me around is going to improve your chances," I said, eyeing the stack coolly, trying to not make it seem like I was lingering, that I could be talked into staying. A number of the chips were oversized, probably indicating pricier bets. Though the younger Ethan had always been competitive, I had a feeling that the Ethan the CEO really played to win. The last thing I wanted was to be responsible for losing his money after already ruining his pants. I gave him a genuinely concerned look. "It'd be a poor investment.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Don’t tell me you forgot what happened earlier. What if my bad luck rubs off on you?”

  Ethan slid the stack—and the half finished glass of whiskey—across the polished wood countertop until they rested next to my elbow. "The best business decisions always seem bad if you look at them from the wrong angle."

  "Spoken like a man who's made some bad decisions," I shot back.

  Ethan chuckled and shook his head, playing it off. I gave myself a mental pat on the back. If I’d learned anything tonight, it was that he was still human after all.

  "The evening’s proceeds go to the Conservation Fund. We're not in Vegas; the table games are just a way for us to amuse ourselves." He lifted his Cosmo glass, took a fruity sip, and peered over the rim at me. "So how about it?"

  It was hard to see Ethan as the dangerous playboy April seemed to think he was when he held his Cosmo like that. Still, I had to remind myself, Cosmos were not his drink of choice. He was accustomed to having Glenn Mackay, straight.

  I looked down at the whiskey and the casino chips.

  How much did each one of those chips represent? A hundred dollars? No way, too low stakes for this event. A thousand dollars? We were getting closer. Maybe ten thousand? I didn’t even want to think about it. The numbers were starting to make me nauseous.

  Expensive whiskey and high stakes gambling. When I looked at it that way, I could see the dangerous playboy in the tabloids and April’s imagination.

  Did I really want to get sucked into that world? Besides, how much did I truly know about him anyway? It was clear that neither of us were children any more. Whether we’d changed for the better or the worse was still up for debate. I couldn’t deny that I was tempted by the prospect of spending more time with Ethan to answer that question for the sake of my curiosity, but in the end, reason won out.

  I remembered the blonde in the form fitting charcoal dress that had escorted Ethan away in the lobby area. If he had come here with a date, what kind of person would I be to step into that mess?

  I shoved the stack of chips—which had ballooned to the value of twenty million dollars in my imagination—back across the bartop, next to his Cosmo.

  "Don't you have your date to attend to?" I asked.

  "My date?" He looked confused.

  "The lady you were with."

  His eyes relaxed in recognition. "Ah, you mean my assistant."

  An assistant? I thought about it for a moment. That did make sense, she was wearing a rather muted dress and walked around as if she held some invisible clipboard to her chest.

  Ethan plucked the top chip off the stack and fingered it playfully before placing it back. "Dates don't usually keep you on schedule and screen your phone calls, you know."

  "Some might, if you're into that," I said, cheekily.

  Ethan tapped the plastic chips and flashed me a sly look. "Are you into that?"

  "What, having someone tell me what to do?" I shrugged and took a sip of my drink. "If I wanted a man to bark orders at me, I wouldn't be working for myself."

  Ethan nodded. "Of course, you're a business woman." He slid the chips to the center of the space in between us. "Let’s talk business then. What'll it take to convince you to spend some time at the tables with me?"

  Our back and forth was getting a little too intense for me. The smart thing would’ve been to step away. Instead, I turned to watch the crowd of glitzy philanthropists milling around the casino tables.

  Out there, in the middle of all those extravagantly dressed people, I'd stick out like a sore thumb in my blazer and slacks. Not only that, but half of them must've seen me humiliate myself earlier. It was all risk and no reward.

  Still, maybe there was a way I could turn this to my advantage.

  It was my turn to play idly with the top chip of the stack as I eyed Ethan's Cosmopolitan. He’d almost finished it, there was only a small layer of pink liquid left at the bottom of the glass.

  "Maybe there is something you can offer me," I teased, not wanting to overplay it now that I had a plan.

  Ethan leaned back and spread his arms open graciously. "I'm all ears."

  I'd been enjoying my conversation with Ethan and not even once did a glimmer of recognition cross his eyes. After he’d had a good look at me, surely he would have said something by now if he “recognized something deep in his soul.” I could almost picture April stuffing Korean BBQ into her mouth, sulkily.

  As far as I was concerned, I’d already won the bet.

  But what would be a more brilliant topping to that sweet victory than parading Ethan around the casino floor while he sipped on April's favorite drink?

  "I pick the bets,” I started, “and—”

  “Deal,” he said before I could finish.

  “Hold on, there’s more. For every one of these chips I win,” I picked up a small black one, “you order another Cosmopolitan. For yourself this time. My debt for ruining your pants has already been paid."

  Ethan smirked, his eyes inscrutable. He stroked the slender stem of the glass, considering it. "Are you trying to get me drunk?"

  I lifted the scotch and pretended to smell it pretentiously like I’d seen him do earlier. "We're just amusing ourselves," I said, before taking a sip. "So how about it?”

  Ethan tossed back the rest of the Cosmo in one gulp. "And if you lose? You did say that you have bad luck."

  I shrugged playfully. "Just one more bad decision to add to your portfolio, I suppose."

  "Depends on how you look at it," he said, grinning.

  I allowed myself a small smile. My heart pounded. He had actually taken the bait. The great Ethan Thorne, on the hook.

>   My hook.

  Before I could lose my nerve, I palmed the chips in my left hand, took the scotch in my right, and headed for the nearest table.

  Not once did it cross my mind that perhaps it wasn’t Ethan who was on the hook that night.

  Kiss Goodbye

  Five Cosmopolitans later and after I made certain that April had finally gotten a good look at us, Ethan and I decided that we’d both had enough gambling for the evening. I must have used up all of my bad luck on the accident earlier and all that remained was good fortune. My winning streak surprised even myself. Maybe the universe was finally conspiring for my benefit for once.

  Ethan swung us by the reception area up front where he donated all of his winnings to the Conservation Fund. The evening was starting to wind down and April had texted me, insisting that she wanted to handle tear down by herself, ending with a “call me if you need me” and a bunch of winky faces.

  Ethan and I wandered close to the main entrance of the Banquet Center where he could have a seat on the too-avante-garde-for-comfort sofas. I went to the bar, ordered two glasses of ice water and brought them back.

  We sipped them in companionable silence, basking in the afterglow of our fun, when Ethan’s attention was suddenly perked.

  "Quick, help me up," he said.

  "What's wrong?" I asked as I grabbed his arm to help him balance.

  "Past the bar,” he nodded toward my right.

  I glanced over to see his assistant striding across the room. Though she was dressed simply, she moved with noticeable elegance and grace. So much so that she was getting a lot of appraising looks from the men. She seemed not to notice the attention directed her way, instead swiveling her head back and forth like she was on a mission.

  "Seems like your date must need you for something."

  "I know that look,” Ethan said, grimacing at my joke, “If she finds me, I'll be dragged into an insufferable conversation with some financier.” He grabbed my hand. “Come on, we need to get out of here."

  I shrugged and went along with it. "The big bad CEO hiding from his assistant," I teased as I let him lead us into the lobby area just outside the Banquet Center.

  "Discretion is the better part of valor and all that," Ethan said. He closed the door behind him with dramatic care.

  Now that Ethan was safe from his assistant, I took some time to study our surroundings. I remembered power-walking through the area during the early stages of set up when it had still been bare and random equipment was piled up all over the place. Now, the lobby looked completely transformed.

  The Conservation Fund had gone through no small trouble to set up an elaborate display. A velvet red carpet rope protected a taxidermied panther in full hunting motion, clawing at a rabbit. Plants had been arranged on the platform to resemble a grassland. The panther was frozen mid snarl, the points of its canines exposed.

  I walked over to the placard next to the display.

  "Zola," Ethan said, nodding at the panther.

  "Sorry?"

  Ethan joined me by the placard, thumbing the plastic as if he were reading it. "Her name was Zola. She was abandoned by her mother and found by land surveyors. By the time they rescued her, she was too old to develop the proper instincts to be released into the wild. Most of her life was spent at the San Diego zoo. It was the best conservationists could do for her at that point."

  Ethan looked almost wistful as he spoke about this animal, as if she were a beloved family pet. It was fascinating to see this side of him. For some reason I doubted that he was reading from the information printed on the colorful display.

  "You’re speaking like you knew her."

  Ethan shrugged. "I saw her. Once. As a child."

  "Must've left quite an impression," I offered, slightly uncomfortable with Ethan reminiscing too much about the past.

  "Even caged, she was magnificent." Ethan's eyes focused into the distance, turning glassy.

  We stood there in silence, the two of us standing awkwardly in front of the taxidermied animals. I wanted to say something that would cheer him up.

  "You think she'll ever catch the stuffed rabbit?" I joked, pointing to the animal.

  Ethan chuckled, returning from whatever memory he had been lost in.

  He turned to me as if remembering something suddenly and looked at me with soft eyes. When he spoke, his voice was low, achingly intimate. "I enjoyed our time tonight. When can I see you again?"

  I broke our gaze and took a step toward the display. This moment of nature captured in time was far safer than the dangerous words slipping out of Ethan's mouth. My heart urged me to run, to flee like the rabbit. But my feet remained planted in place.

  In this moment, we were still strangers. Somehow it felt safer that way. If we saw each other again, things would change. And at some point he would remember it all. Would he feel the same way about me then?

  Ethan stepped next to me, close enough for me to feel his body heat radiating against my upper arm. He remained silent, but he was tense, waiting for an answer.

  My skin yearned to touch his. I tilted my head up slightly to see his face, making the decision before doubt could slip in. His lips looked plush and soft, a hint of stubble framing his chin.

  "Why don't we just enjoy the moment?" I said.

  I tiptoed up to meet him. His lips were heaven against mine and my mouth lingered a moment longer than it had any right to. He smelled of oak and grass and wildflowers, like deep dark wood and mid-morning sun, like a place that only existed in fantasy.

  And then it was over.

  I retreated before he could pull me deeper. My chest felt empty. A void that spanned the many years we'd been apart. Tonight had been surreal, but now it was time to say goodbye.

  Ethan's eyes met mine insistently. "I’ll need more than a moment."

  This time it was Ethan who leaned in. He held my face between his hands. The motion caught me off guard, but when we crashed together, everything was forgotten. The room. The accident. The games. This kiss was more desperate, more urgent than before, like he would devour me if I let him. Maybe I wanted him to.

  Against my cheeks, his hands felt rough and calloused. I wondered how they got that way. Surely someone in his position didn't need to do any manual labor. Was it from working out? Did he do any martial arts? Woodchopping?

  There was so much about him that I still didn’t know, that I would never know.

  We would remain as strangers forever.

  We finally broke free, both of us gasping. A strand of hair fell across Ethan's forehead, slashing across his eyes.

  That’s when I saw it in his face. That it would never be enough for him. That he wanted all of me.

  I couldn't help but see it as a childish desire, a craving, a need that I couldn't fulfill. We were just children then, too shy and unsure of ourselves. Of course there would never have been a kiss, but would that goodbye have felt just like this? I never found out how he felt about it at the time, but now that I could see it, maybe this would be the goodbye that never was.

  "Take us somewhere," I whispered into the scruff of his neck, leaving a kiss on his skin.

  He tensed, but he didn't pull back.

  I ran my hands up the back of his suit, feeling the cords of tight muscle beneath the fabric. "Now."

  Ethan studied me hard, still recovering from the kiss. Conflict contorted his face, but nature won out. "Okay," he finally whispered.

  He placed his hand on the small of my back, guiding me. We savored each step, knowing where it would inevitably lead. We didn’t need to rush and we didn’t need to stall.

  Neither of us broke the silence as the elevator doors closed. Ethan pressed the floor number and backed into the left corner. I chose the opposite corner. He didn't come any closer. It was as if in that enclosed, private space together, we were afraid of standing too close, for fear of what would happen if we touched.

  A couple of shy kids at a middle school dance. Making up for lost time.
>
  The floors rushed past. The elevator slowed. Stopped.

  Then the doors opened.

  Loose Ends

  One night to tie up one summer of loose ends.

  Maybe this was the closure that we both needed.

  That I needed.

  In a way, it would be fitting, I managed to convince myself.

  We walked out of the elevator and down the hall, Ethan leading the way. The sounds of our steps were muted into the plush carpet. It was quiet enough for me to hear my heart beating. Or perhaps my heart was beating too loudly. To repress my restless mind, I focused on Ethan’s shoulders. They seemed broader, the hallway narrower.

  We stopped in front of the suite, the recessed yellow lighting made the door appear intimidating, like a gateway into another world.

  Ethan pulled a keycard from the inside pocket of his tuxedo jacket. He played with the plastic between his fingers, hesitating on the threshold. What was he waiting for? Did he think that we were moving too fast?

  I took a silent shuddering breath and leaned into him. Through the fabric, I could feel the muscles of his back tensing against my breasts. Anticipation coiled in my belly. Need ached between my thighs.

  Ethan stood like a statue, his lips pressed into a firm line.

  Perhaps he was taking all of this a little too seriously. He wanted to savor the chase. To enjoy the dance. Ethan Thorne was still trying to play all his cards right when the game was already settled in my mind.

  I snatched the keycard from him and stepped in front so he couldn’t see my hand tremble.

  I made the choice for the both of us.

  The lock flashed from red to green, then clicked open.

  Ethan grabbed my hand over the doorknob. “Wait,” he said.

  Before I could change my mind, I pushed into the room and pulled Ethan inside.

  The door swung shut behind us.

  We made it as far as a couple of steps into the entryway before I pressed my entire body against him. Our lips connected. Needy and urgent.

  Ethan returned the kiss, first meeting my challenge, then claiming my mouth with desire. Even though we were focused on the implied communication of our lips, I could feel the bursting tingles of warmth spreading across my body.