Poison in Pumps

by Karen Anne

  When I arrived, Harry had some forties music on and an apron. He took my coat and kissed my cheek, and I momentarily felt a pang of guilt. Was Brit right? Was I only fooling myself into thinking Harry was just my friend? I also wondered if I was using him. David had always been my way of escaping when the sorority and school all became too much. His life was so different, and it was nice to have a place where my day wasn’t measured by an agenda. No. I didn’t escape with David. I shared a life with him. It was different. Everything with David was different.

  “Hey, I brought red,” I said, holding up the wine.

  “Nice!” Harry took the bottle and walked over to the counter. Everything was set up in little bowls and measuring cups. It looked like a cooking show, so neat and organized.

  “What are we making?” I asked.

  “Rosemary baby lamb chops, roasted potatoes, and sautéed vegetables.” Harry kissed his fingers like the cooks do on TV.

  “Sounds incredible. You make that, and I’ll be in charge of pouring wine.”

  “No way, you are going to cook all of this. Then you’re allowed to have wine.”

  “No wine until we dine?” I pouted.

  “No wine until we dine,” Harry reaffirmed, holding my gaze a moment longer than necessary. Shit. I really needed that wine now. Anxiety was starting to crawl up my spine like a spider on a web.

  I had assumed I would be chopping and observing, but Harry already had all the food prepared, so I actually was the one cooking. “Here, my old apron from culinary school.” He looked equally proud and disappointed as he untied the white apron and handed it to me. I tied it on, seeing the stains around the thighs where Harry must have habitually wiped his hands over the course of his many lessons. It was clearly special to him.

  “Where’s my hat?” I joked.

  He shook his head. “No hats, but you probably want to tie your hair back.”

  “Rachel Ray never ties her hair back.”

  “Rachel Ray is in front of a camera. Trust me, you go in the back of any restaurant in New York and see a chef without their hair tied back and you have a health violation.”

  I giggled and pulled my brown locks into a low pony tail at the base of my neck. A few stray hairs fell out, but I tucked them neatly behind my ears. Then I washed my hands. “Okay, apron is on, hair is back, hands are clean. Now what?”

  “Now we make a little magic.”

  Harry walked me through measuring and spices. He showed me how to make my own gravy for the lamb chops and how to cook things simultaneously. At first, I was overwhelmed, it seemed like a lot of flipping, stirring, and simmering. But then I found my rhythm, and the kitchen became just another instrument that I was learning how to play.

  Harry dipped a spoon into the mushroom gravy that was bubbling around the lamb chops. He tasted the brown broth, closed his eyes momentarily, and smiled. “Perfection. Here.” He held out the same spoon, and I bent down and tasted my creation.

  My gaze caught Harry’s as I ran a tongue across my lips. “Did I really make that?”

  “Yes, you did. Pretty fantastic if I do say so.”

  “A student is only as good as her teacher.” I smiled as he blushed, and a thick layer of awkward spread between us. I realized if we had met under different circumstances, Harry could have actually have been a great guy for me. But we met through David. He was an Archer, and I was an Archer’s ex. I cleared my throat. “So now what?”

  He clicked the gas off. “Now the meal is done, but part of cooking is artistry. I’ll show you how to assemble the food onto the plate so it has that wow factor.” He reached for plates, put the meat down, then the sides. He drizzled the gravy and wiped the excess off with a clean cloth napkin so it was perfectly neat. Then he tossed some fresh chopped parsley on top and handed the plate to me. “Voila! All done.”

  “This looks incredible!” I still couldn’t believe I had made it. We carried our plates over to the island and set them down. Harry opened the bottle of red I had brought, filled our glasses, and raised his. I lifted mine and looked at him.

  “To your first lesson, and hopefully many more.” He clinked his glass with mine, and I wondered if he meant more in that I’d become a great cook, or more lessons with him. I was overthinking. I took a sip of the wine and looked down at my plate. It really did look great. I almost wished David could have seen it; he would have been proud of me.

  Harry must have noticed I was lost in thought, for he smiled at me. “Bon appetit.” I cut into my meat and took my first bite. The lamb was so tender, it melted on my tongue.

  “Wow! I can’t believe this. It’s so good.”

  “So when’s my lesson?”

  “You really want a piano lesson?”

  “I just want more time with you, but a piano lesson would be nice, too.”

  I forced a smile and looked down at my meal.

  “Kris, I didn’t mean it like that. I know what you’re going through. But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit how much I have enjoyed our time together.”

  His words were a huge relief. I looked up at him and smiled. “Thursday afternoon. I’ll book the music room at school.”

  “Cool, it’s a date.” Hmm… was it?

  After dinner, I helped Harry with the dishes, and we relaxed on the couch and finished that bottle of wine. When I drank all my glass and was disappointed to discover the bottle was empty, Harry gave me the rest of his.

  “You’re so sweet, Harry.”

  “Ha.” He shook his head, propped an elbow on the armrest of the couch, and relaxed his head into his palm. “I’m not that sweet.”

  “Yes, you are. You’re too good to me.”

  “Maybe I have ulterior motives?” He wagged his eyebrows at me. He got up and scrambled in the kitchen for a bit.

  “Nah. You’re just one of the good guys,” I called out. He returned with another bottle of red and a corkscrew. Well, look who was full of surprises. He expertly uncorked the bottle and refilled my glass, which, sadly, was empty again, then he filled his. He was smiling. “What?”

  He sat back down and leaned into the couch. “Believe it or not, I have a dark side, Kris. A very dark side, and the scariest part is, I think you are the one person who could unleash it.”

  “Are you trying to tell me a ghost story before bedtime?”

  “No, I’m just trying to warn you before we’re in too deep.”

  He was starting to sound like Brit, saying things out loud that shouldn’t be said. That had to be the wine talking. “Okay, now you really are scaring me.”

  “That’s just the thing, I never want to scare you.”

  “Then don’t.”

  “I’ll try,” he said softly.

  I took a sip of the red. It was dryer than what I had brought. More… grown up. I didn’t really know much about wine other than some were red and some were white. David and I had talked about going wine tasting in Napa. David and I had talked about doing a lot of things. Like getting married and spending the rest of our lives together… Wincing at the memory, I drank deeper. Now that I had some more truth serum, I started over talking as well.

  “I don’t know… maybe a dark side isn’t that bad.”

  “How so?”

  “Brit is pretty dark.”

  “She’s jaded and wears black, but that’s not what I mean by dark.”

  “Then what do you mean?”

  “I mean, I have to work very hard every day not to unleash my personal demons.”

  I shrugged. Eh, who didn’t have a few skeletons in their closet? “Well, we all do that.”

  “Not like me.”

  “Well, maybe you should just let them out… run free… stretch their wings and all that jazz.”

  He looked at me, very serious. “Don’t do that.”

  “Do what?”

  “Tempt me.”

  Tempt him? I took a breath before speaking. “Trust me, I’m not trying to tempt you.” I drank from my glass in a feint attempt to rema
in casual in the wake of his words.

  “Kristen, every time you walk in the room, you tempt me.”

  “Okay.” I swiped the wine away from his hand and placed both our glasses on the coffee table. “Enough liquid courage for you.”

  “You started it,” he said in a manner that David would have referred to as cheeky.

  “Well, now I’m stopping it.”

  “That’s the catch now, isn’t it?” Harry moved closer to me, his thigh pressing against mine. The natural heat from our bodies was like an electrical current between us.

  “What on earth are you talking about?” I said, trying my damnedest to remain in control and prove Brit wrong.

  “Starting things you aren’t prepared to finish.” While his words swam in my head, Harry leaned in closer. His lips just inches from mine.

  I panicked.

  Jumping up, I took a step back and stammered, “Um, I don’t think I can drive home, just yet. Too much wine. I’m going to lie down in David’s room for a bit and sober up.”

  “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

  Want? I wanted to kiss him without feeling guilty. I wanted to deny the feelings that had taken root. But most of all, I wanted to go back to the way things were when he was just a friend, and I had the most amazing man in the world by my side. What I wanted was my old life back. I didn’t know what was real anymore and what was just playing pretend.

  I didn’t answer, just nodded and scooped Beast up off the floor and carried him down the hall. I needed him to protect me. From the ghost of David’s room. From Harry’s advances. But most of all from myself. I laid down on the bed, my heart pounding.

  Beast circled the bed a few times before settling down on the pillow beside me. I listened to his light breathing, finding comfort in how simple his life was. I pulled out my cell phone and scrolled through old pictures of me and David. We looked so happy. So in love. I still loved him, that’s why everything hurt so bad. I kept scrolling and found a picture Brit had taken last Christmas. We were in David’s apartment, and both Harry and David were giving me a kiss on the cheek. I was laughing and closing my eyes. Suddenly, that picture— which was one of my favorites— didn’t seem so innocent anymore.

  “Oh god…” The cat looked up at me. “Beast, what am I doing?”

  TWENTY-FOUR

  I hadn’t spoken to Harry in a few days. I needed time to think. I was losing control. My emotions slipping into something else. My sorority hated me, the isolation suddenly tangible. I wanted to call Harry so bad, but the pills weren’t the crutch. He was.

  I circled the track, losing count of how many times I had run the full length. Maybe ten? I wasn’t sure. I had my music on, and Beyoncé was my coach, cheering me on as I rounded each turn.

  It was giving me clarity. Until someone pulled my ponytail and nearly caused me to trip over my feet. I turned and saw a flash of purple as Brit bent down and rested her hands on her knees. She was in combat boots, leggings, and her leather jacket. Not what I would call workout attire.

  Pulling my ear buds out, I turned to Brit. “You startled me!”

  “I was calling…” She panted. “You didn’t hear me.” Brit collapsed dramatically on the track. I’d have to teach this girl the art of exercise. I sat beside her and stretched out my legs. They burned. I loved it.

  “Well. You found me. What’s up?”

  “Nothing… I just missed you. You’ve been really distant lately.”

  I contemplated telling her about how Harry and I almost crossed the line, but I refrained. “Yeah… I’m just coping the best I can.”

  “I know. I was thinking. You gave me advice once, and I think you should use it yourself.”

  “What brilliant advice did I bestow upon you, little sis?”

  “Well, when I didn’t know where I stood with Jaime… after years of not talking…” I already knew where she was going with this. But I was still catching my breath, so I didn’t interrupt. “You said I had to know, so I’d be able to move on. You had me call him. That’s what you need to do now. You need to call David.”

  “And speak to Garret?” I snorted.

  “Even if you get stuck with that royal pain, I’m sure he’ll give David the message that you called.”

  “What if he doesn’t?”

  Brit sat up and stretched her hands over her knees. “He will. He’s his assistant, that’s his job.”

  She had me there. So I asked the scarier question. “What if David doesn’t call back?”

  “Well… then you know for sure.”

  Brit was right. I still had hope, and hope was driving me crazy. Hope was making me either question everything or act irrationally. It was time to get a firm answer.

  Of course, saying I’d call him and actually calling him were two different things. I showered, did homework, even read a few chapters ahead in Psych to avoid the actual moment I picked up the phone. Brit knocked on my door to see if I had called him.

  “No, I’m pretty great at the art of procrastinating.” I held up my notebook. I had intended to jot down notes of things I wanted to say but ended up doodling anorexic looking fairies instead.

  “Come on. There’s pizza from last night in the fridge. We can heat it up and work up your nerve to call him.”

  “Maybe it’s too late,” I said as I took the slices out of the oven. “I mean, it’s after midnight there.”

  “Right, I’m sure rock star David is tucked in bed with his teddy.”

  “Maybe he’s tucked in bed with Danny, and she’s wearing a teddy,” I said sadly.

  “Maybe you should stop jumping to conclusions.”

  “You’re right. It’s just…” I took a deep breath. “Terrifying.”

  “You’re preaching to the choir.” Brit took a bite of her pizza and then perked up. “Would you rather I called?”

  I tossed my slice back on the plate. The thought of that blonde wearing nothing but lingerie and pressed up against David was gut wrenching. Appetite lost. “No. It has to be me. I can’t expect it to work if I have someone else try to get us together— no offense.”

  Brit took another bite of her pizza and shook her head. “None taken,” she said with the bite still in her mouth. Her phone rang, and she pulled it out of her pocket. “Jaime,” she said.

  “Hey!” She listened for a moment then let out a sigh. “Shit! I’m so sorry. I got my night’s confused. I’ll be right there.”

  “You gotta go?” I admit I was disappointed. Especially since it had been a while since the two of us hung out, just us.

  “Yeah. I totally forgot I promised Jaime I’d help him study tonight for his Art History midterm.” Brit was a walking museum. She was the perfect study partner for that sort of thing. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s all right. Do your thing.”

  Brit tilted her head and looked at me with sympathy. “You will call him, right?”

  “Yeah. Maybe not tonight, though. We’ll see.”

  “Well, if you do talk to him, call me after, okay?” I nodded, not knowing whether I’d actually be calling anyone tonight.

  An hour later, I sat on my bed, cell phone in hand, staring at David’s number. Hitting send proved to be incredibly difficult. I hugged my pillow and tried to find ten seconds of courage. And then it happened. I hit send before I could think and pressed the phone against my ear.

  I waited for the ring, but instead I heard a high-pitched beep closely followed by an automated voice telling me the number was no longer in service. Convinced I must have hit the wrong number, I called again, only to hear the same message. It took a minute for it to sink in.

  He had changed his number.

  If I was looking for an answer, I was just given one. Loud and clear. I was too in shock to cry. Too in shock to feel. I just stared, my hands trembling as the reality took hold. He wanted nothing to do with me.

  My phone lit up and started ringing and for a moment I was stupid enough to think it was David.

&nbs
p; It was Harry.

  “Hello.” I sounded normal. A little dead pan, but not anything too out of the ordinary.

  “Are you avoiding me?”

  “No.” If I was truly avoiding him, I wouldn’t have answered the phone.

  “It feels like you are.” He sounded different. Agitated. I wondered if he had agonized over calling me the way I had with David. I also wondered if he had David’s new number but realized it would be stupid to ask for it. He clearly changed it to avoid me reaching out.

  “No, I’m not avoiding you… In fact, are you free now?”

  “Yeah.” His voice had softened.

  “Good. Let’s go out.”

  “Where do you want to go?”

  “A bar. Some place not local. I don’t want to see any of my sisters.”

  “You mean you don’t want to be seen with me.” The edge was back in his voice. Was he teasing? I honestly couldn’t tell.

  “No… I… I just want to disappear tonight.”

  “Okay. I know a place. I’ll text you the address. Meet me there in an hour.”

  I found Harry sitting on a tall stool in the back of the bar, drinking a beer. When I approached, he put his beer on the empty stool next to him and leaned back, a sly smile curled across his face. “What’s up?”

  “Hey, sorry, I haven’t been around lately.” It had only been a few days since our cooking lesson, but he was right. I had been avoiding him. I hadn’t answered any of his texts or even called to thank him for the lesson.

  “Did I do anything wrong?”

  “No. No, not at all. I’m just…. trying to figure stuff out.”

  “Rough week?”

  “Rough semester.” I bit my lip and took a breath, remembering the pain of what I discovered earlier this evening. It was a complete slap in the face. If he didn’t want to talk to me that was fine, but to go to such lengths so I was cut off completely… it was cruel. Not believing what I was about to ask him, I looked at Harry, unable to hide my vulnerability. “Do you have anything to, um, take the edge off?”