by Amanda Lance
“You’re right,” he heard her say after awhile. “They are good.”
“I’m glad you think so,” he said. “I’ve already hired them.”
Emilia frowned. “Then what did you need me here for?”
He smiled, but only to himself. “I thought I made that clear. I need you for everything, Emilia Ward. I need you always.”
***
Emilia didn’t know what to think about Kasper’s declaration. Even as they finished listening to the first set and she munched on her snack, her mind went back and forth on the subject. She knew that if she had any dignity, cared about herself at all, she would have rejected him with even more vigor—yelled and screamed and called him names. But she couldn’t ignore the fact that at the core of her she was giddy about his claim of love—that her heart bounced slightly at the prospect of the two of them being together again.
Even as they left together, there was a sort of silent familiarity between them that Emilia had recognized from when they first began spending time together—that silent communication that it seemed like only they were capable of. When they had first admitted their feelings for one another, she thought their only contact would extend to the bedroom only to quickly learn it went much further beyond that, expanding to realms she once believed to only exist in fairy tales and science fiction.
There were instances, for example, that he could sense when she was having a bad day in class and would try to replace her stress with a gift of some kind. Likewise, she seemed to predict his foul moods before they happened, becoming a meteorologist of his bad temper and warning others not unlike a psychic would.
It was as though Emilia was experiencing déjà vu when they got up together and left without saying a word. They were reconnected in such a short period of time—or more startling—Emilia realized maybe they had never been disconnected to begin with.
“When can I see you again?” he asked in the car.
“During the gala.”
“Emilia—”
“Kasper, don’t do this to me. You wanted me to get a life and I have.”
She watched his hand grip the wheel under the passing street lamps. She almost knew, as if reading his mind, what he would ask before he did.
“I-is there someone else?”
Emilia leaned back and rested her head against the glass. It felt cool against her forehead, but quickly warmed up under her burning flesh. The idea that she could even be with anyone but Kasper had honestly never even crossed her mind. And now that it had, it seemed absurd. Had he already forgotten the way she had begged for him not to send her away? To forgive her for shunning him in the first place? Okay sure, so it had been a year. And that would be a reasonable amount of time to move on for most people—more than reasonable considering everything he had done for her. But she wasn’t most people, and neither was he. That was what made them relatable to one another, so perfect. They were like an endangered species that had found each other in the wild and needed the other to survive, to keep their genus alive and thriving.
How could he even suggest that she could be with someone else?
But she didn’t say any of that. Couldn’t, even though her heart begged her to.
“Isn’t that what you wanted? For me to be with someone else? Want someone else?”
Kasper felt his heart bottom out. He had specifically instructed Frankford not to educate him on this matter for this very reason, as his imagination began to spike with violent images of other men touching her, other names on her lips but his own… how could he think for an instant that he could live without her for this long, let alone a lifetime? God, what had he done!
“Kasper, watch out!”
The sound of the brakes squealing to a halt managed to reach his ears over the sound of his own lungs whistling puffs of air in and out of his chest. Yet Kasper acknowledged to himself that he had some difficultly hearing the curses of the students as they finished moving across the pedestrian walkway. He thought one of them mouthed the word “freak” but he couldn’t be sure.
Emilia’s hand was the next thing he was aware of. Gently shaking the life back into him, she might have been putting all of her weight onto him.
“Kasper? Are you okay?”
His only reply was to look at her.
“No.” She removed her hand and put it in her lap. Somewhat amazed and ashamed that she could still have that reaction on him—cause him to be so destructive. “There isn’t anyone else.”
He tried to conceal his relief. “I-I apologize for that.”
“Do you want me to drive?” She looked away and stared straight ahead.
He shifted the car back into drive, hard. “No.”
“You know, you’re always sorry, but you never do anything about it. Anything but apologize… you say you want me back and I want to believe you—but what if you change your mind again, decide I’m not what you want after all, or that I should have more time to ‘find myself’?”
“I won’t.”
“Just like you said you’d stop spying on me?”
“Looking in on you,” he corrected
She shook her head. “You can justify it anyway you want, Kasper, but at the end of the day maybe we were meant to be alone. Maybe people like us can’t survive in this world. Maybe we should just go extinct.”
“No.” He shook his head. “I won’t believe that.”
He slowed in front of her building and she unbuckled her seatbelt before he had the chance to stop her. There was confidence in her resolution, but it was sad and it didn’t make her feel as secure as she had hoped.
“You don’t have a choice. It is what it is and we both have to live with it.”
And for the second time in their lives she kissed him on his masked cheek. Only, instead of that mysterious feeling of hope, she left behind the unmistakable one of goodbye.
Chapter 6
Preparation
He spent the night drinking even though he knew he should not have. Going through his dwindling supplies of liquor, he even dared to venture out after he had consumed the last drop. Normally, he would not have felt bad for the imbecile behind the counter, but when he considered how gracious the fool was for staying open for him when he was about the close the shop; he bit back an insult before handing him some bills instead of throwing them at him.
More of Emilia Ward’s doing, no doubt.
Once he was well in his haze, he sat in his lofty armchair with the lights off and stared at the door. It would have been easier with a few pills in his system, but after several months without them, strong liquor worked almost as well. He concentrated on the door as if she would actually walk through it if he wanted it badly enough. And he pictured her walking through the archway, unchanged from when he saw her last.
She would submerge from the shadows and push her hair back from her face. Yet it would be to little avail as the troublesome mess would just scatter back in front of her eyes. Knowing her, her hips would sway as she walked towards him, but he would try his best not to reach out for them right away—to be as patient as possible.
Would she have removed that thin white blouse of hers right away? Or would he be forced to after she situated herself in his lap? If he hadn’t already, he would put his drink down then. Let it fall on the floor if he had to, and with his hands free he would let his fingers trail up the backs of her legs to the tiniest freckles behind her knees.
The possibilities of what to do next swirled in his mind, a palette of prospects that was thickening just as his member was. Would she giggle when he began kissing her in that sweet spot on her neck, or take to moaning right away?
His mind couldn’t settle on one illusion or another, finicky and lacking new material to work with. Eventually, he went with both, drawing out the fantasy even longer as he envisioned his hands disappearing under his skirt, her biting on his ear and running her fingers down his back.
He called out her name over a
nd over again…
“Okay, so what are you wearing?”
Emilia glanced down at her grass-stained jeans and faded t-shirt. “Um…”
“No.” Claudette laughed. “I mean to the gala. I saw this full-length pink number online—”
She sighed and looked back at her paperwork. “I haven’t gotten anything yet.”
“What? How do you not have anything yet?”
The fundraiser gala was less than two weeks away and it seemed to Emilia that the more that was accomplished for the event, the more that needed to be done. Between planning the decorations and handling the RSVPs, Emilia and her colleagues were working late most nights and Sunday afternoons, and Emilia mused, if the event was being planned during the regular school-year, she wouldn’t have had time at all. Overall, she was glad for the busyness, especially since it gave her a legitimate excuse to avoid Kasper. Still, however, the irony was not lost on her that while she had this great project as an excuse to avoid Kasper, without it, she would not have had to avoid him at all.
“I—” She tapped her pen against the desk and made a rhythm with its clicks. What kind of music was Kasper listening to lately? Did he hear about the new Gidon Kremer album? No Emilia—stop it! She scolded herself and tried to refocus. “I don’t have time for dress shopping.”
“Well, you had better make time for it.”
“I’ll just run to a consignment shop.”
“No.”
Emilia rolled her eyes at the childish protest. “Yes.”
“Come on! The rejected prom dress shop? Shame on you, Em—you can do better than that.”
“It isn’t that big of a deal, Claudette. I’ll probably just buy something online.”
“Yeah, well, you better do it soon. Shipping on fine clothing items can take extra long, my dress won’t even be here for another week.”
“Un-huh…”
“Anyway, I got this little pink number…” Claudette continued to talk about her dress and the subsequent mask she had purchased from a costume shop, how she was going to do her hair, and so forth. It was only somewhere between shoes and an evening bag when Emilia interrupted—her ability to multitask ruined by her own anger.
“What is this?”
Claudette stumbled out of her own trance and glanced over. “Huh?”
“This pre-conformation e-mail from a print shop…” She pointed out the large number on the bottom of the screen and huffed. “Thank-you cards? That’s what we’re spending on thank-you cards?”
Claudette’s eyes narrowed in on the screen, but she shrugged. “Is that a lot?”
“Is that—” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “Did Elaine approve this? Did Paula?”
“I guess?”
Emilia brought up the spreadsheets and looked over the budget again. Spending money on frivolous things would not only put them way out of budget, but decrease the potential of profit. Was that what Kasper had spent the week trying to call her about? Admittedly she thought the constant phone calls and attempted e-mails were just his way of getting her attention, but it was obvious now that it was probably relevant to the gala. She was flushed with shame for being so narcissistic.
She picked up the phone and called him straight away, tapping her pen even louder as her nervousness grew. There was no way she could avoid him forever and she felt foolish for even trying. But maybe, if she kept their conversation narrowed to professional topics it would be easier to interact with him, to avoid saying all the things she really wanted to.
“What do you think you’re doing?” She told herself to stay focused on her frustration, to restrict herself to that emotion and none of the others that he invoked in her.
“Currently?” He rotated his wrist and stared back at the computer screen. If he had the words to describe what her voice did to him he would have been a writer. “Thinking about you, naturally.”
Emilia closed her eyes and repeated his overspending to herself again and again. How much more difficult was he going to make this for her?
“Hilarious.” She made herself roll her eyes only to scold herself for imagining he could see her expressions. You know what else is funny?”
“Do tell.”
“These thank-you cards you’ve gotten the estimate for.”
“Your favorite colors are pink and purple, yes? What is so funny about that?”
Emilia sighed. The dogs were barking at the roofers and between the sound of them and hammering nails, Emilia admittedly had some trouble tuning them out.
“Why would you want to push the budget when we could just as easily make them ourselves?”
“That isn’t exactly the personal touch.” She could hear his smile over the phone. “People intend to see the results of their donation.”
Emilia rolled her eyes. “What indicates a more personal touch than us making them ourselves? What more do you want than that?”
He sighed, his voice cooing into the phone. “We both know the only touch I want is yours.”
“We need to talk about this.” She sighed and tried not to smile. Even when he annoyed her, he still had the uncanny ability to make her laugh. “Like serious adults.”
“I was being entirely serious.”
“Okay.” She leaned her head back against her chair. Trying to ignore the howling of the dogs was becoming more difficult by the second. As if reading her mind, Kasper inquired about it.
“What is that terrible noise?”
She sighed and resolved herself to her fate. It was one thing to do paperwork, but it was an another monster altogether to try and converse on the phone. If she wanted to settle things with him, Emilia knew she was going to have to do it in person.
“That?” She smirked and tried to make her voice as sly as possible. She might have had to deal with Kasper, but if she did, she was going to do it with as much attitude as he gave her. “That is the sound of you coming to pick me up.”
His voice perked up considerably. “I thought you’d never ask.”
“I wasn’t asking.” She hung up the phone before he could get in the last word, her smile still plastered on her face.
Without trying to seem as eager as he was, he quickly fastened his mask and wig, and counted the seconds before leaving. And only once he was in his car did he grip the wheel harder, trying not to run any stop lights or get himself pulled over for speeding. She was willing to see him! Not only that, but her voice, her position, was undeniably different than when he spoke to her last—not sad or angry, but something else altogether. And before he could stop himself, the excitement rose up in him at the mere prospect of what could be.
She met him outside, bag in hand and a smile on her face. He clutched his stomach and sighed. Truly, he decided, she had no idea of how beautiful she was.
“Hi.” She rested her arms against the inside of the driver’s side window and leaned forward slightly. For all of her oblivion, the little peach had to have known the way the movement pushed her breasts forward, didn’t she? She could not be so ignorant about the way she smelled of sunshine and how her smile illuminated his dark, dark world, could she?
“H-hello,” he tried. “How are you?”
“Busy.” She nodded and smiled even wider, cutting him off again before he could get in another word. “Speaking of which, we just have a lot to do and not a lot of time to do it in.”
“I agree.” Kasper watched her every move as she went over to the other side of the car, and silently thanked God realizing that she alone made him understand why men pray.
“Okay,” she said, taking out a list from her back pocket. “So there are flowers that still need to be decided on, more spots in the silent auction to fill-”
“Yes, yes.” He waved her little list away, far more interested in the errands themselves than the actual results. “What shall we do first?”
She buckled her seatbelt and refolded the flimsy paper. “Well, we still need decorations�
�it’s a little tough to do that with just pictures online.”
“I see. Am I correct in assuming you want to tour the venue then?”
She nodded. “Yes, please, if you don’t mind terribly.”
“Hmm,” Kasper mused. “Interesting.”
“What?”
“I am your obedient servant, my little peach, but this is entirely the wrong place for you to be ‘pleasing’ me for anything. The bedroom, on the other hand…”
Emilia huffed out her annoyance, but smiled once she was sure he wasn’t looking. Of course he would use that cleverness she loved so much to win her over again. How could she expect anything less?
Because it was a weekday, the parking lot was almost abandoned and silently they were each grateful for it. Emilia had difficulty shaking off the looks he gave her as it was—there was no telling how much more difficult it would be if she had to deal with a bunch of people. And Kasper was relieved that he could focus his attention entirely on Emilia and not on the ignorant responses of others. And as much as both of them wanted to stay in the car with one another, they ultimately left the vehicle and headed inside.
Torn between his looks at her and trying to distract him, Emilia surprised herself by silently encouraging his eyes and walking with an extra sway in her hips. She smiled every time she glanced over her shoulder and he quickly glanced away—his lame attempt to pretend not to be watching her.
Never being a tease before, or even a flirt in the best of circumstances, Emilia found it outlandishly powerful to know that her body could influence Kasper so much. Was this why other young woman on campus wore such scanty clothing? Why her mother had always smiled and giggled at strange men? The revelation was a great one, and between that and the sexual tension between them, Emilia felt more confident than ever. Unfortunately, however, it only made another negative thought rupture in her brain. What if she didn’t use this control of hers to her advantage now? Would she look back on this time and regret not manipulating Kasper the way he had her? Would they lose their lust for one another if they did not use it?