by R. R. Banks
Noah was leaving my room when I finally got back to the retreat that night. He looked me up and down before he said anything.
“I baked some cookies today,” he said. “I left some for you.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“How was the concert?”
“Loud,” I admitted. “The type of music wasn’t really my cup of tea.”
“Oh, I also left you a cup of tea.”
I laughed and Noah joined me. Our voices quieted and I suddenly didn’t want him to walk away. I gestured toward the door.
“Do you want to come share the cookies with me?”
Noah’s eyes slid toward the door as though he was tempted, and then he shook his head.
“Thanks, but I should probably get to bed. I have to get up early to bake bread in the morning. Maybe tomorrow, though.”
I nodded.
“I don’t know anybody who makes bread. My mother never even made bread. I look forward to trying it.”
Noah gave a slightly tense smile.
“Good night,” he said. He started down the steps and then turned back to me. “I was right about that dress, by the way.”
Chapter Fourteen
Snow
I took the dress that I wore the concert out of the dry-cleaning bag and hung it in my closet beside the jersey. Someday I might wear it again. Maybe. One of the songs that Sam had played at the concert echoed through the house, streaming off of my tablet where I had placed it on my bed. I still didn’t love the genre, but I was getting used to it. There was something different about it having witnessed the musician himself perform the song. I thought back to the rehearsal that I had watched. Sam had been confident and sexy as he gripped the microphone and sang, his body moving in time to the music that played around him. I hadn’t known it then, but it was a preview of what I would experience that night, his hard body pressed against mine on the dancefloor, and then filling me in the lounge.
When I closed my eyes, I could still feel the adrenaline rush of standing in the crowd after the power problem was fixed and the band was able to take the stage. The fans around me screamed and reached up toward them, some of the women calling out suggestive pleas of what they would like the men to do to them. I hadn’t been able to withhold the smile that came to my lips as I thought about the fact that, if even for that one night, I was the woman that they all wanted to be. At the end of the show I had joined them in the lounge and then enjoyed the rush of running out of the venue with Sam’s hand gripping mine, the fans screaming and cheering around us.
I was still dwelling on the memory of the cheering when I heard a knock at my door. I turned off the music and walked toward the door, expecting to see my new date box waiting for me. Instead, when I peeked through the peephole I saw Lucille standing on my front porch.
“What are you doing here, Lucille?” I demanded through the door, not bothering to release the chain lock or the deadbolt.
“Aren’t you going to open the door, Snow? I just want to talk.”
I was familiar with the saccharine-sweet tone that she was using. It was the same manipulative way that she had spoken to every man I had ever heard her interact with and the way that she tried to convince people to trust her. Unfortunately, there were times when it worked, but I knew it too well to be swayed by it.
“I have nothing to say to you,” I said.
I was starting to turn away from the door when she spoke again.
“Open the door, Snow. You don’t want your neighbors to see me standing out here and hear me demand to know why you’ve been sleeping with my husband when I’m pregnant with his child.”
She had lifted her voice slightly to emphasize her point and I tore the door open, the fury pushing in my chest until I felt like it would burst through.
“You are a fucking liar, Lucille.”
She flattened her hand on my door to push it open further and stepped into the house, forcing her way past me.
“Am I now?”
“Who told you that I’m sleeping with Walter?”
“Walter? Don’t you think that’s a little bit personal for a subordinate? You should probably get accustomed to referring to my husband only as Mr. Royal.”
“You might be pregnant, but I’ve known your so-called husband for far longer than you have.”
Lucille scoffed as she perched herself on one of the backed stools that stood at my elevated dining room table.
“Get serious, Snow. I’m not pregnant. Do you honestly think that I would let that man get anywhere near me without a condom? I might have to suffer my way through the occasional wifely duty, but I can guarantee you that I won’t be producing any heirs for him. That won’t stop me from telling him that I will, though.”
“You’re disgusting.”
“Am I? I’ve gotten everything that I’ve wanted so far. Why not go for a little bit more? He’s more than happy to give it to me.”
“Almost everything,” I said.
“What do you mean ‘almost everything’?”
“I still work for the company.”
The smug expression that her face had held since she stormed the house faded away, replaced by searing anger.
“Not for long, Snow.”
“There’s nothing that you can do about it. You already tried.”
Lucille stood and took a threatening step toward me, but I refused to back down.
“Why don’t you just give up, Snow? I’ve won. You may have been Walter’s pet, but I’m his wife. He’ll do what I say eventually, and if it takes too long, it’s not like he’s going to live forever. I can make your life miserable until then. Why don’t you just make it easier on yourself and go away?”
“You haven’t won anything, Lucille. You might think that you have, but you haven’t. You’re going to ruin your marriage just like you have ruined every other opportunity you’ve had because you are a greedy, conniving bitch who nobody can stand to be around. I’m not going to give up my chance to watch you crash and burn.”
For a brief second, I thought that Lucille was going to attack me and I could only hope that one of those neighbors that she had just threatened me with would be able to hear me screaming if it happened. After a tense moment, though, Lucille brushed past me and left, the squeal of her tires against the road the final punctuation on the conversation. I strode over to the door and closed it. I had just turned the deadbolt when I heard another knock on the door. My fists clenched beside me and I wrenched the door open, ready to confront Lucille again. Instead, I saw my date box sitting on the porch and the tail end of a car sliding down the street.
Letting out a breath to try to blow away the aggression, I reached down and picked up the box. I carried it back inside and immediately brought it to the living room, feeling like I needed this little bright spot to get over the confrontation. The customary white box was tied with a brown satin ribbon that held the note in place. I took the envelope and opened it.
“Saddle up”
“Well, that could go a couple of different ways.”
Chapter Fifteen
Lucille
I wove in and out of traffic, pushing my foot down harder and harder on the gas pedal, forcing my car along the road at ever-faster speeds. The growl of the engine and the pull of the wheel in my hands helped to draw the anger out of me, the frantic reactions of the other drivers as they swerved to get out of my way assuaging me as I went. I didn’t care about any of them. They were less than me and they knew it. Just a look at our cars or their appearances could tell anyone that. They should get out of my way when I wanted them to and let me go first. At least they knew their place.
I couldn’t believe the way that the confrontation with Snow had unfolded. I wanted her to fold beneath me. I wanted her to recognize once and for all that I was far superior to her in every way and that the life that she had been living her entire adult life was rightfully mine. She refused now, but I wasn’t going to stop. I was in the place of power now and I wo
uld do whatever it took to ensure that I didn’t have to deal with her anymore.
I heard the wail of police sirens behind me and I glanced in the rearview mirror to see the squad car gaining on me, drawing up close enough that they were able to see my license plate. I didn’t bother to slow down. Just as I expected it to, the police car fell back, its lights and sirens turning off. I laughed, pushing the gas pedal a little harder to force my car to the limit of its capabilities. As with any other police officer in the area, the one behind me had run my plates and seen who I was. My marriage to Walter had linked me to one of the most powerful men in the area, even if he didn’t always act like it, and, as the ubiquitous “they” always say, money talks. I was untouchable.
I skidded to a stop in my private parking deck beneath the Royal and Company building and walked through my entrance. Cindy looked up as I came down the hall toward her.
“I have a message for you,” she said.
“Save it for later,” I said, starting past her.
“He said that it was urgent, that he needed Walter to get back to him immediately.”
“Oh, he did, did he?”
I paused by her desk and reached for the paper that she held, swiping it out of her hand to look at the message. I felt my stomach sink when I saw the name on the paper. I quickly straightened and offered a smile.
“Thank you, Cindy,” I said. “I’ll take care of this right away.”
I stepped into my office and closed the door, leaning back against it as I looked down at the message again.
He wouldn’t. Would he?
Robin
“Hello? Snow? This is Robin. You remember? Your nearest, dearest, and most devoted best friend? Just thought you might need a little reminder. I haven’t heard from you in a few days. Call me. Email me. Tweet me. Like me. Poke me. Swipe me. Smoke signal me. Do something.”
I ended the voice mail and dropped my phone to my kitchen counter. Turning back to my stove, I took hold of the wooden spoon and stirred slowly. The rich aroma was starting to fill my lungs and I was eagerly anticipating the concoction when I heard a key in the lock to my apartment and the door opened. Snow stepped in and looked at me strangely. I noticed that she was holding her phone to her ear.
“Did you just tell me to swipe you?” she asked as she closed the door and locked it.
“Well, since guys are apparently your life now.”
“And you know that you will always be my very best guy.”
“No, I don’t know that,” I snapped, a little more aggressively than I might have wanted to.
“What’s that all about?” Snow asked as she came into the kitchen.
“I’m sorry. I’ve just missed you the last few days. I haven’t even heard from you this week.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. She sniffed the air. “What is that?”
“My specialty,” I said.
“Packaged hot chocolate with crème de menthe?”
“Only the classiest.”
“Pour me a cup.”
I looked at Snow a little closer as she climbed up onto one of the bar stools positioned around the kitchen island. There was something different about her. She had only been to the retreat a few times, but I could already see it changing her. She had always been sure of herself with a personality that could fill a room, but her confidence was stronger now. She held herself differently, as though she had become more acquainted with her body and knew better how to hold and move it. The way that she was looking then, though, didn’t seem that she was enjoying the change as much as she should.
“What’s going on with you today?”
“Lucille came over.”
“She what?” I asked, ladling the hot chocolate into two mugs and sliding one over to her. “I thought that the two of you hated each other and now she’s stopping by for a friendly chat and afternoon tea?”
“Well, there was no tea and I wouldn’t exactly call the encounter a friendly chat.”
“How did she even know where you live?”
“She’s running the company. She can look in my personal file and find out anything about me that she wants.”
“That’s not frightening at all.”
“I know.”
“So, why did she come over?”
“To demand that I submit to her.”
“Excuse me?”
“Maybe that wasn’t the best terminology. She showed up and told me that I needed to just give up and go away because she won and she was going to make sure that my life was miserable for as long as it took to get rid of me.”
“What did you say to her?”
“That I wasn’t going to do what she wanted.”
“Good for you. What are you actually going to do?”
She glared at me.
“I’m not going to do what she wants. I’ve had to claw my way past her my whole career and deal with her shit every step of the way. I’ve never been able to accomplish anything without having to fight through her first.”
“That makes it even more impressive,” I said. “You’re where you are and you’ve done what you’ve done in spite of her, and there’s a lot to be said for that.”
“What if she’s serious?”
“What do you mean?”
“What if she really is going to make my life miserable until she’s gotten me out of the way?”
“What do you think that she could possibly do to get you out of the way?”
Snow shrugged.
“I don’t know.”
“Nothing,” I said. “That’s what. You are flawless in your career. You’ve never disappointed a client. Never used unethical practices. You don’t even show up late to work. There’s nothing that she can do, Snow, and she knows it. She’s just running scared, now, and she’ll keep talking a big game as long as she can until someone calls her out on her bullshit or she talks herself out of her cushy little marriage and then everything will go back to the way that it should be. So now all you need to do is sit back and let it happen. You still have weeks of vacation to go. Relax. Enjoy. Everything is going to work out fine.”
“Do you really think so?” she asked.
“Of course, I do. The world is yours, Snow, and now that you are doing this retreat, you are actually going to figure that out. And once you do, you’re going to be unstoppable. There won’t be anything that anyone will be able to do to stand in your way. I just hope that you don’t forget about little old me when you shoot off into the stratosphere.”
Snow laughed and reached over to squeeze my hand.
“I could never forget about you,” she said. “Remember, you’re why I’m doing all of this.”
Chapter Sixteen
Snow
The limo arrived to pick me up for my date just after breakfast and I was immediately intrigued, wondering what type of date could be planned for that early in the day, especially with the first of the outfits that had been sent to me. The jeans I wore were tight, but lacked the splashy brand name of the ones I had worn to Sam’s rehearsal, and they were topped off with a black tank top and flannel shirt that I tied at my waist, unsure of anything else to do with it. I wore work boots on my feet and my hair hung in a braid down my back. Something told me that there were going to be no VIP lounge or screaming crowds involved with this date.
The limo turned in the opposite direction away from the retreat than it had the last two dates and soon we were wandering along narrow, twisting backroads. It seemed that my body had gotten too accustomed to the lazy mornings and lack of structure and I found myself getting sleepier the further that we drove. I had drifted off by the time we arrived and the car stopping startled me back into consciousness. I peered out of the tinted window and saw that we seemed to be out in the middle of nowhere. The door opened and I looked out at the chauffer.
“Are you sure that this is the right place?” I asked.
“I’m sure.”
I stepped out and from the vantage point of being out of the car I sa
w that we weren’t really in the middle of nowhere, but appeared to be on a farm of some kind. I stood on a dirt path that led down in between to large wooden fences and I could hear the low rumble of an engine somewhere in the distance. The driver got back into the limo and drove away, leaving me, yet again, to wonder where I was and what I was supposed to be doing. I was sorely missing the idea of being picked up at my door for dates, though there was something nice about knowing that my room at the cottage was my space and I didn’t have to share it with anyone, not even for a few minutes.
Not knowing what else to do, I started toward the sound of the engine. The further that I walked, the more I recognized where I was, and after a few minutes a man on horseback coming toward me all but confirmed it. He slowed the animal and looked down at me.
“You must be Snow,” he said.
“We’re on a ranch,” I said.
I hadn’t really intended on saying that. It had just kind of tumbled out of my mouth when I opened it to introduce myself.
“Yes, we are,” the man on horseback said.
I looked around and then back at him.
“Like a ranch-ranch. Like a the-only-place-it’s-appropriate-to-say-dude, I might as well dip my veggies in it ranch.”
“Again, yes.”
“And you’re a cowboy. Like a – “
“As much as I would like to sit here and listen to you process through all this and give me the rundown of things that I already know, I have a lot of work that I have to get done.”
I was stunned by his response and fell silent.
“I’m sorry,” I said with a slight edge of sarcasm in my voice. “I’d like to point out that you are the one who started the listing of already-known facts. Yes, I am Snow.”
He gave a single nod.
“I’m Shane,” he said. “Do you ride?”
“Do I what?”
He patted the side of the horse beneath him.