All's Fair in Love and Lion
Page 16
I go through the exit and enter Sasha’s apartment.
“There you are,” she exclaims. An emotion I can’t identify disappears from her eyes. Was it . . . fear? I look again only to find it gone. Maybe I was mistaken.
I check my watch. “Am I late?”
“Almost.”
“Are you ready?”
She picks up her keys and purse. “Yes.”
As we board the elevator, Sasha asks, “Are you going to give me any hints on what my prom dress looks like?”
“Sorry, I’m not telling.” My grin widens at her chagrin. “I haven’t even seen the finished product.”
“I don’t like this,” she grumbles. “Knowing you, it’s probably something completely over-the-top.”
“I made the seamstresses promise not to make it too extravagant. It’ll be appropriate.”
She props herself against the back of the elevator, pouting. “I wish you’d let me see it.”
“I can’t allow that.”
“I should’ve demanded to approve it.”
“You never made any demands, so it’s too late.”
The elevator opens and Sasha hurries out. We get into her car and she guns the engine.
Rubbing my chin, I assess her profile. “I think you’re in a bit of a temper.”
“How’d you guess?” She raises an eyebrow.
“You wouldn’t ruin my fun, would you?”
What’s really wrong? Dare I ask? If the other day was any indication, asking her directly won’t work. I’ll have to try something innocent. “I didn’t think you’d be this upset over a dress.”
“I wish I didn’t have to go to the prom.”
I sense it’s something else, but I play along, anyway. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“I’ll get through it.”
I keep my tone light. “The prom won’t be so bad. You survived the ball in the Third Realm. The prom will be nothing after Neru’s party.”
Her face darkens. “I’d rather talk about something else.”
My mind replays what happened at Neru’s. Other than Lily’s intrusion I don’t think anything else had gone wrong. “Did someone besides Lily upset you?”
At the mention of Lily’s name Sasha’s jaw tightens. The ball still bothers Sasha? But she had seemed fine the next day. Unless . . .
I feel my temper rise. “Has Lily done anything to you?”
“How could she? She’s in prison. I’m simply stressed.”
“You’d tell me if something happened, right?”
“Monroe, stop worrying. I probably have a case of wedding jitters. Happens to every bride.”
I struggle against my anger. How am I supposed to protect Sasha if she doesn’t confide in me? “Are you positive it’s not Lily?”
“Monroe, I told you to drop it.” She glances at the traffic. “I hope we don’t keep Mel waiting.”
Why did Sasha change the subject? What is she holding back? “I’m sure your friend will understand.”
“The important thing is we get there and she finally meets you so she can stop pestering me.”
“Are you nervous?”
Sasha parks the car and turns off the engine. “A little. I’m not sure how to explain everything.”
“We’ll get through it together.”
Why can’t I shake the sensation something isn’t right? Could it have actually been my introduction to Melody that has Sasha nervous? Yet, it doesn’t explain her behavior when she came home from work. No matter my concern, I can’t push her any further, there’s too much tension between us.
With resignation, I enter the coffee shop behind Sasha. The fragrant aroma of brewing coffee fills the air, along with a tinge of sweet pastries. My mouth waters. There are times I enjoy a good cup of coffee.
While I immerse myself in the scents, Sasha scans the room. Her gaze travels past wood and iron tables, chairs, and people milling about until it stops on a woman with dark red hair and muddy green eyes. The female waves excitedly at us.
“Sasha,” she calls. “Over here!”
Sasha embraces her. “Hello, Mel,” she says. “How are you?
“Great!” Melody turns to me. “You must be Monroe. I’m Melody Saunders.”
“Hello.” I hold out my hand.
“Nice to finally meet you,” she says.
I accept the chair next to Sasha, who sits between myself and Melody.
“I heard you ordered your cakes?” Melody asks.
“Yes,” Sasha answers. “You were right, Miranda’s Bakery was a great idea.”
Her friend’s eyes dance. “She’s the best. Her coffee cream is heavenly.”
“The bride’s cake is going to have that,” Sasha says.
“Yum! I can hardly wait. You know,” Melody says, assessing me, “you’re getting one of the nicest people I know.”
Sasha pretends interest in the tabletop.
“She is a treasure,” I answer.
Melody beams. “This man knows the right things to say.”
“Most of the time,” Sasha mutters.
Her friend doesn’t notice as she chatters on. “There’s something about you, Monroe. I can’t put my finger on it.”
Sasha catches my gaze, and I wink at her.
“What’s that all about?” Melody asks.
“Oh nothing,” Sasha says. “Private joke.”
“I see.” Melody turns back to me. “So, what do you do? Sasha mentioned some form of government work?”
Before I answer, I catch the brief flash of pain in Sasha’s eyes. What was that? However, before I can comment, she lowers her gaze. I return my attention back to her friend. “I inherited my parents’ fortune, which keeps my home running smoothly. I do some governmental work, but on a non-paying basis.”
“Sounds fabulous,” Melody comments. I detect a hint of acid in her tone. “I wish I could lead a life of leisure.”
“It isn’t much if you don’t have someone to share it with,” I say.
She nudges Sasha. “Is he for real?”
“He’s excessive,” Sasha agrees. “But, he wouldn’t say it if he didn’t mean every word.”
Melody laughs. “Sasha prefers a strict budget. She doesn’t have many expensive things.”
“I noticed,” I say. “She’s very humble and sweet.”
“Yeah.” Her friend giggles as Sasha’s color brightens.
“What would you like?” I ask Sasha, standing.
“A large cappuccino would be nice,” Sasha says.
I glance at Melody. “Have you already ordered, or can I bring you something?”
“Don’t worry about me.”
“I insist.”
“Are you sure?”
“Remember? I lead a leisurely life. Might as well use my money for something other than myself.”
A faint pink stains Melody’s cheeks. “I’ll take a large mocha.”
I leave the table and get into the line. When the orders come, I bring the tray to our table where Mel and Sasha are talking over wedding details.
Melody spots me coming and motions to Sasha to be quiet. “We don’t want him to know anything,” she says, dramatically.
“About what?” I ask.
“Nothing!” Melody grins.
Sasha stays quiets and I hand her the cappuccino, and I resume my seat.
“The flowers are so gorgeous,” her friend gushes. “Sasha chose white and pale pink roses. Also baby’s breath and white freesia. The bouquets and floral arrangements are going to be divine.”
Sasha shakes her head. “Calm down, Mel.”
“I know, I know,” she says, throwing her hands up in surrender. “I’m getting carried away. I can’t help it. Your flowers are going to be prettier than mine.”
Sasha shrugs. “I’m not making comparisons.”
“I can’t remember why I didn’t choose roses. They’ll be glorious at your wedding.”
I shake my head, struggling against a chuckle. She’s
more exuberant than I imagined.
Sasha glances at her watch. “I hate to cut this short but we have marriage class today.”
“Oh, yeah,” her friend says, waving us off. “You two go on. Good to meet you, Monroe. Sasha, we’ll talk later.” Melody enthusiastically hugs us both.
At the class, I study the scenarios we were given. “I bet they weren’t thinking about the adjustments beings from two different realities would encounter when they designed this exercise,” I whisper in Sasha’s ear.
She giggles softly. Relief washes over me as I feel the strain ease from her. Maybe somehow I’ll find out what was wrong.
Leaning over, she whispers, “I don’t think so. I’m not sure how we’d go about explaining it to them.”
“They might think we’re insane.”
“I wouldn’t blame them.” She plays with her pen.
When class ends, we gather our things and head for the car.
“Did you enjoy the day?” I ask as we return to Sasha’s apartment and she unlocks her door.
“It was a nice. I wonder why Mel didn’t grill you more.”
“Maybe she was distracted. She seemed awfully excited about her dress for the wedding.”
“That must be it. I’m glad tomorrow is Sunday. I haven’t had much of a chance to look over my lesson plans for the week.”
“Do I need to leave so you can?”
“No, it’s all right. I’ll do it tomorrow.” She heads for her bedroom. “Let me check my messages.”
Sitting on the couch, the unease of my thoughts from the afternoon return. Lily’s up to something, but what, I can’t be sure. What can I possibly do to keep Sasha safe if I don’t know what the danger is?
“No messages.”
I whip my head around. Sasha stands beside the couch a small smile on her face. I lower my eyes to her slippers. “Your feet comfortable?”
“I forgot how much new shoes pinch my toes.”
Her nearness triggers a wave of desire in me. What I wouldn’t do for her. No matter if she won’t confide in me about her troubles, I have to trust her. Even though it pains me.
“You know,” I say, “I’m lucky I found you.”
“Stalked and conquered me, you mean?”
I frown. “Should I rephrase what I said?”
“No, it’s all right.” She laughs. “I was teasing.”
“You make me feel very blessed.”
Shadows fall over her face, then quickly vanish. “I feel the same way. You’re so good to me.”
Shame fills me. “I didn’t start out that way.”
“I don’t hold it against you.”
“I’m grateful. Particularly since I was insufferable. Bast was right. I should’ve saved stalking for my food, not my future wife.”
“Monroe, stop. I’m not mad,” she says firmly.
“Doesn’t excuse me.”
“I’m excusing you. Aren’t I the one who should determine whether you’re forgiven or not?”
“Of course.”
“Then there’s no need to rehash it.”
“You let me off the hook far too easily.”
“That’s my choice.”
A yearning to hold her and never let go overtakes me. I slip my arms around her waist. “I can only be amazed you’re not mad anymore.”
“I’ve thought it over. I’ve chosen not to let it bother me.” She wraps her arms around my neck. “You’ve been a gentleman, so it’s not difficult to forgive and forget it.”
“What have I done to deserve you?”
“Who knows?” Her warm smile thrills me. “Doesn’t matter, though.”
“You are a lioness in every way,” I say, bringing her closer.
“Give me a kiss.”
“As you wish.” I press my mouth against hers, rocked by a sense of completeness.
The Creator help me if anything happens to her.
Chapter 24: Sasha
A week until prom and I’m on pins and needles. Knowing Monroe, the gown will be more appropriate for a Hollywood premiere than a high school dance.
Then there’s Lily. I’m sure Monroe suspects something. With my luck, he’ll find out Lily has been pestering me and overreact.
“Sasha?” Carl holds up our exam outline. “Are we still going to look over the material for finals?”
“It’s that time already?”
“He’s as worthless as you are.”
I jump, toppling over a stack of papers.
He chuckles. “Whoa, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“You Firstlings are so predictable.”
“How dare you come uninvited into my head, especially with a coworker in the room!” I press against her intrusion in my mind. Nothing I do makes the slightest difference.
“My, you’re touchy.”
Sweat trickles down my back. “So you noticed?” Despite my efforts, she won’t budge.
“Earth to Sasha,” Carl singsongs.
“Sorry. You were saying?”
“Are you okay? You seem distracted.”
“He’s more observant than you are.”
Silently I scream, “Shut up!”
“No, please, go on,” I say, trying to clear my mind. “You have some ideas for finals?”
“Sure, pretend I’m not here. You really think you can ignore me?” Chilling laughter fills my head. “Nice try, human, but you’re not strong enough to push me out.”
“These are from last year. I’ve elaborated on them.” He hands me a manila folder.
“You can’t suppose I’ll go away merely because you’re not paying attention to me? I thought you were smarter than that.”
“Go away.” I shove against her presence.
She presses harder against my consciousness. “Make me.”
“So, will they work? If not, we can come up with something else.” Carl’s voice seems far away.
Slowly the folder comes back into focus. “Oh, no, your suggestions are fine. Have you already written up your test?”
“What does Monroe see in you? Your life is so humdrum. You have no spark—no passion. Wait a minute.” Again her laughter fills my head. “This is absolutely perfect. Does Monroe know about your hot little fantasies? No? Hmmm . . . maybe I misjudged you.”
My temples throb. “I told you to leave. Get out!” I summon all my energy. “Out!” A scream rents through my consciousness, then silence.
Carl stares at me with confusion. “You want me to go?”
“What?”
“You said ‘out’ pretty loudly. Are you mad at me?”
Crap. “I’m sorry. I was thinking about someone, I mean, something else. I’m not angry at you.”
He gives me a funny look. “Whatever you say. I guess we’ll talk later.” He gathers his things.
“I apologize. I’m a bit distracted.”
“I’ve noticed. Earlier you appeared happy, then you looked annoyed.”
I clutch the edge of the desk. “I am happy.”
“Odd way of showing it.”
“I was a little uncomfortable for a moment. I’m fine, now.”
“What’s going on?”
“I don’t know, Carl. I haven’t told very many people and I’m still adjusting to it, myself.”
“Oh.”
I hold his gaze. “Don’t misunderstand. It’s good news, but it feels surreal.”
“Well, if you change your mind . . .”
“I’ll let you know.”
“Is there anything else I should add to my notes?”
“I think we’ll go ahead with what you have. Thanks for doing that.”
“No problem. I know you usually like to plan ahead.”
Embarrassed, I nod and he walks out.
The bell rings as I stack up the fallen papers and my students wander in. Normally I don’t pay attention to their conversations, except this time I hear my name.
“You really think Miss Brighton has a boyfriend?”
“What else c
ould it be? She used to be so uptight.”
“C’mon, Miss Brighton, dating? You’re kidding!”
“No way, I bet you anything she finally got a man.”
“Not like she doesn’t have it going on.”
I rub my hands over my face. First Lily in my head, now my students are speculating over my love life. What I wouldn’t give for the day to be over. Wearily, I approach the podium and the conversations abruptly end.
“Miss Brighton,” a girl calls out.
“Yes, Nadine?”
“Do you have a boyfriend?”
“You dork!” someone hisses.
“Not up for discussion. Sit down, please.”
“Hey, Miss Brighton,” one boy calls out. “You can tell us.”
“Are you dating Mr. Darrenmore?” someone else asks. “I hear you’re going to prom together.”
“Please, she could do better than Mr. Darrenmore.”
“Class,” I yell after the bell rings, “we have work to do.”
A girl raises her hand.
“Yes, Tonya?”
“Is it true you’re going to prom with Mr. Darrenmore?”
My headache intensifies. “Only as a friend. Back to work, everyone.”
A glance at the clock tells me there’s way too much time left in the workday for my peace of mind. All I want is to go home, have some hot tea, curl up with a book, and—
“Why are you going with him?”
I throw Tonya a stern look. “Can we please get on with the lesson plan for the day?”
“Mr. Darrenmore’s got a hot date with Miss Brighton, whoo-hoo!”
“Class, get out your grammar textbooks and lower your voices.” I begin the lesson for the day amid their whispers. Would Monroe quiet them down? I fight a smile. Maybe he could enter their minds. Now that would definitely get their attention.
At the end of the day, the pain in my head has become a full-fledged migraine. All my students have hounded me with questions and theories about me and Carl.
Leaning my elbows on my desk, I rub my temples. Unfortunately, I left my headache medicine at home. I wince as the final bell rings.
Carl opens my door. “You okay?”
“I’ve got a horrible migraine. I’ll scream at the next person who asks me if we’re dating. I’m not sure what happened, but apparently somehow we’re the main topic.”