The Watcher Series Volume # 1: Falling

by Rhiannon Jean

  He paused, taking a deep breath, and I waited for him to tell me how awful it was.

  “You wrote this last night?” he asked.

  “Y...y...yes,” I managed to stutter, my face turning red in shame. “It hasn’t been edited or re-written yet so it’s still very raw and probably needs a lot of work. It was the only thing I had with me, but I wanted to share. I know it’s probably not your type of thing –”

  “Lily, stop,” He interrupted my nervous ramblings. “This is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever read. Please don’t change a single line.”

  “Really?” I asked. “You actually like it?”

  “I love it,” he said emphatically. “You have talent. I can’t wait to read more. Let me ask you a question, though,” he said.

  “Sure,” I answered happily.

  “Who is the subject?” he asked quietly. I tried to look down, not wanting to tell him the truth. I wasn’t ready to divulge my secrets to him. However, he had other plans.

  He reached over and lightly grabbed my chin, forcing me to look him in the eyes. “Never look down when I ask you a question, Lily. You have nothing to be ashamed of when answering anything I ask you.”

  “I…I...I didn’t want you to see me blush again,” I blurted out.

  “I happen to like you when you’re blushing. It’s incredibly sexy, watching that pink creep up your face, knowing that I’m the cause. It’s also incredibly sexy watching your eyes darken with longing when you look into mine. I want you to look me in the eye whenever you speak to me.”

  I sat across from him and stared. I had no idea how to respond to this kind of naked honesty. His tone had become commanding, intense, and had an edge to it, almost as if he was holding something back. His eyes had darkened to a hunter green color and were startling to behold. They held passion, and longing, and secrets. Secrets I suddenly was afraid to know, but desperately wanted to find out.

  “You,” I replied in a soft whisper. “It’s about you.” I waited for him to laugh, the rejection that would inevitably follow my confession. I was so used to men laughing at me for writing poetry about them. No one had ever really taken the time to read my poems or see their hidden meanings. I wrote from the heart, trying not to hold back. The men in my life had been cruel and unappreciative so I expected the same from Gabriel. I really should have known better.

  His eyes widened in surprise. He moved his hand from my chin and took both of my hands. He stared at me for a few moments, not saying anything. I almost looked away, embarrassed by his silence, but remembered his warning. Something told me Gabriel was a man you didn’t disobey. God, was that hot.

  “Thank you, Lily,” he whispered. It was disconcerting to see him knocked off kilter. I had stunned him. This man, who was so quietly intimidating, was at a loss for words. After a few more moments of silence, he brought my hands to his lips, kissed each one softly, and stood up to leave. As he stood up, he pulled his hood up and winked at me.

  “See you tonight, Lily.” Then he turned to leave.

  “Wait!” I said.

  He turned back around. “Yes, beautiful?” My breath caught in my throat. I had completely forgotten what I was going to say. I sat there dumbstruck. He smirked again, and I swear that smirk was getting sexier and sexier. He crossed his arms in front of him, patiently waiting for me to speak.

  “I don’t know your last name,” I managed to get out.

  “Well, then, we’ll have to rectify that, won’t we? I guess you’ll just have to see me again to find out. Seeing as how I know how curious you are, I’m guaranteed to have you in the seat I save for you tonight, aren’t I?” And he disappeared into the crowd. My mouth was hanging open as I stared after him. Wow.

  I sat back down, lost in thought, and sipped on my espresso. I texted Emma and told her I needed girl time stat.

  “Are you ok?” she replied.

  “Just had a run-in with my stalker.”

  “OMG. Lunch and bookstore STAT.” She liked to text in all caps when she was excited. My life is usually pretty dull, so this news was definitely caps worthy.

  Chapter 7

  Emma and I spent the rest of the day going through every little detail while we ate Italian food and scoured our favorite used bookstore for buried treasures. I told her about what had happened last night and how he knew exactly how to calm me down. I told her about texting him last night and his empty business card and our run-in at the coffee shop this morning.

  “Aren’t you a little curious about how he knew where to find you this morning?” she asked.

  “I’m extremely curious, Em. He seems to be able to look at me and know what I’m thinking and feeling. It’s like he REALLY sees me. I want to see him again, and I really want to go to hear him play tonight. Please go with me!” I begged.

  “Oh, honey, I can’t. We have dinner party plans with some clients of mine and I can’t back out now. But, honey?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You need to go. You deserve some fun. Ryan has been making your life miserable for months. You need to see what else is out there. You’re missing out on so much by staying with him. You know he doesn’t treat you right and I know there is someone out there who will.”

  I hugged her tightly and nodded into her hair. “I know, Em. It’s been getting worse and worse. Last night he basically told me he didn’t love me because he couldn’t stand to touch me. He brought up my mom again, Em. Then he compared me to Katie! It’s like he’s trying to hurt me on purpose. That’s not love!” I exclaimed.

  “Of course it’s not, Lily. Someone who truly loved you wouldn’t use the most painful memories of your life to get a rise out of you, and they certainly wouldn’t be comparing you to other women. I know you’ve come a long way since that horrible night, and you should be proud of yourself. You overcame that darkness that you battled for so many years. You can’t let him talk to you like that. I think it’s time to make some tough decisions, Lil.”

  “I…I…I don’t know what to do,” I said tearfully.

  “You’re going to dig through old books and find some treasures. Then you’re going to go home, put on your favorite outfit and some hot makeup, and you’re going to go hear a hot guy sing. Have a drink, talk to him for a while, and get to know him. You never know what might be hiding under that sweatshirt,” she said with a smile.

  I laughed and went off in search of buried treasure in the form of old books. I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck raise up, almost as though someone were watching me. I turned around and scanned the aisle, but no one was there. I wondered if Gabriel had followed me here and was hiding in the shadows, as he was so apt at doing. I began digging through a sale bin to see what sort of treasures I could find. An old playbill from the original cast of Wicked caught my attention and I thought back to that hoodie he was wearing. I’d only ever seen him dressed in black, but damn, was it hot. It bordered on gothic mixed with gamer nerd, but I had no idea if he even liked either of those things. I did know that I wanted to know everything about him. I just didn’t know how to go about it.

  I was a married woman, albeit unhappily married, but married nonetheless. I didn’t believe in cheating. ‘If you’re not done dating, don’t get married’ was my motto. The sad thing was, I was beginning to realize that Ryan didn’t share that motto. The last few weeks when I’d called him when he was supposed to be home, he had clicked me over to voicemail. My trust level was faltering and my heart was beginning to harden and close itself off. I was afraid this rejection would catapult me back into that darkness that I struggled with for so many years.

  When I asked him about the texts he got late at night he would yell at me, telling me to mind my own business. He’d begun to bring up one of his coworker’s names, Katie, repeatedly in our conversations. I had hoped that this was just a passing thing, that he needed an ego boost or something. Lately, though, I wasn’t as sure as I used to be. I had chalked up his absences and distance to working more, but thinking about i
t now, I wondered if he was actually working. I wondered if Katie had been “working late” as well. I wanted to believe in him as the man I fell in love with. As the man who saw my dark, my crazy, my good, bad and ugly, and had loved me anyway. But deep down, I knew he was no longer that man and he hadn’t been for quite some time. I could feel a dark cloud start to settle over me and my old friend sadness start to creep back in. I needed a distraction before the dark cloud multiplied and I ended up back in bed for days and days. I tried to clear my head, not wanting to be a hot mess of tears and snot right now.

  Heading home after my date with Emma I realized I needed something to wear tonight. Something new and worthy of the live music scene. I hadn’t been spending any money lately, so I could afford to treat myself. I headed to my favorite “plus-sized” boutique, Bombshell. Ugh, I hated that term. “Plus-sized”, “woman-sized”, it was all polite for NOT A SIZE 4. I was MY size, plain and simple, or so I kept telling myself so that Ryan’s words weren’t so painful. I pulled into the lot and quickly headed in. My favorite saleslady, Betsy, greeted me. She was the same size as me, covered in tats and piercings, and had a flair for the dramatic. But damn, could that girl dress!

  “Hey, ladybug,” she called out, using her nickname for me. “I’ll be right there!” I waited for her to finish up with her customer and looked through the jeans rack. I always had problems finding jeans that fit me. I have a smaller waist, but giant hips and thighs, so everything bunched and gapped. It was not flattering. I was hoping I could find some that hugged my curves, instead of showcasing them in a majorly unflattering way.

  “Okay, Ladybug, thanks for being patient. That woman was tricky!”

  “No worries, Bets,” I said. “I might be tricky, too. I need something that says ‘Hey there, I’m hip, I love my curves, and I belong in this smoky bar enjoying open mic night’.” I gave her the cliff’s notes version and the name of the club. She immediately pulled me to the back of the store.

  “Sit,” she said. “I’ll pick this one out. Trust me.” Which of course I did. This girl was a fashion goddess and should really be in New York or Paris. She came back with dark wash skinny jeans and a gorgeous red tank that shimmered slightly. It was long and fitted with a scoop neck, and she finished it off with a black velvet tuxedo jacket. She had paired it with cute red flats, yep that’s right, flats. No heels for this girl. I’m a klutz, through and through. I went into the dressing room and put everything on. I looked at myself in the mirror and my breath caught.

  “Wow, Bets, this is amazing!”

  “No, girl, you are. The clothes just showcase it in pretty packaging.”

  I turned and studied my curves, taking notice of how great my butt looked in these pants. I was sold, even if it did cost me a month’s salary. I was hoping I had someone to look pretty for. I shook my head, trying not to get my hopes up that he’d even notice me tonight. I’d heard a bit of his singing voice last night. That voice mixed with that face…well, let’s just say I was sure he wasn’t wanting for women.

  I changed back into my yoga pants and hoodie and hurried to the register. I wanted plenty of time to do my hair and makeup and take a few shots of liquid courage at the club before I saw him.

  “Bets, thanks so much.”

  “Of course darling! You’re my fave customer. I threw in a designer’s discount for you. I know you’ve been working way too hard.”

  “Have I mentioned I love you, Bets??”

  She hugged me and kissed my cheek. “Pair it with cat-eyes and a red lip. Silver earrings, no other jewelry. Showcase what you’ve got, mama.” I smiled and rushed to my car. I needed to pick up some new eyeliner and lipstick from Sephora and I’d be ready to go.

  Chapter 8

  I didn’t know about most girls, but I needed music to get ready for a big night. I set my iPod on the dock and turned it to my dance mix. Hollaback Girl started playing and I smiled in excitement. Maybe tonight would be my turning point and I would no longer be a “hollaback girl”. Ryan was “working late” yet again and surprisingly it didn’t sting as much as it usually did. He’d been canceling our plans left and right because he wanted to “pick up overtime”. I wondered why it didn’t hurt so much this time. Was it because I was growing numb to his rejection? Or was it because I might have met someone who actually wanted my time? Maybe a little bit of both.

  It suddenly occurred to me that if Ryan never came back to our apartment again, I might actually like that. I would have quiet when I wanted. The magnitude of day-to-day chores would lessen. The fighting would stop. Had meeting Gabriel made all of these thoughts come to mind? I mean, here I was, dressing up for a man who wasn’t my husband, taking great care with my make-up, and I was completely at peace. I shook my head, telling myself again that I’d think about all this later. For now I wanted to make sure I looked amazing.

  After a quick shower, I straightened my hair, taking care to make it have a little body in the back so it angled nicely at my chin. I was trying to grow it out from a stacked chin length bob and it was annoying as hell! I began the process of applying my face when What The Hell by Avril Lavigne came on. YES! This was my personal anthem for the night. I was still young, still vibrant, and I needed some fun. I had never been to The Secret Word before, but I had heard all about it from Emma. It was almost always packed, A-line-around-the-building type of packed. I was so glad Gabriel had promised to save me a seat. I didn’t know if I was going to fit in. If it was always packed, I wondered what type of crowd it attracted. I really hoped it wasn’t starving artist hipsters drinking Blue Moon and vodka-Redbulls…ugh.

  I finished my foundation and started applying my favorite nude eye shadow. I loved to do my eyes up like Kat Denning in Two Broke Girls, minus the fake lashes. I had tried applying those one time only, and I had ended up gluing my eyelids together. It wasn’t pretty. After the two shades of eye shadow were on, I began the very stressful process of the cat-eye eyeliner. Something most people didn’t know about me was that I’m legally blind in my left eye. Putting on makeup was a daily challenge. Putting on a cat-eye was challenge level Manalo Blahnik. Just Dance by Lady Gaga started playing and I focused on the perfect swoop on each eye, trying not to sway my hips. I love Lady Gaga. I know she’s an acquired taste for most people, but she’s amazing. She’s not afraid to be herself, she’s played around with fashion and art and music, and she sticks up for anyone who’s been bullied. As a victim of bullying myself, I admired that in her.

  Eyeliner complete! Victory! It was mostly even. I pulled out my brand new red lipstick that screamed ‘look at me!’ I secretly hoped it screamed ‘kiss me!’ as well. Was that wrong? Maybe. I was still married, no matter how many hours of “overtime” he worked. I wouldn’t stoop to his level, but I was so curious about Gabriel’s lips and how it might feel to kiss him. It might be time that I broke out on my own and took some of my student loan money to find a cute little studio for the fur-balls and me. The more I thought about that, the more determined I was to start perusing Craigslist tomorrow morning. It was decision time, and I needed to look out for myself, as my husband certainly wasn’t.

  I took one final look in the mirror and smiled. Wow, I was a knockout! It was nine o’clock and I needed to get dressed and head out to the club. I put on the outfit from Bombshell, spritzed on some Happy by Clinique, and grabbed my wallet and keys. Whenever I went out to a club, I refused to carry a purse. Inevitably, I’d leave it under a table somewhere, never to be seen again. Instead, I carried a small silver cigarette case I had picked up at a street fair years ago. I transferred my ID, debit card, and insurance card into the silver case, grabbed my phone off the charger, and kissed the fur-balls goodbye.

  Once in the car, I needed to calm down a little, so I turned on Burning Gold, by Christina Perri. I need to do karaoke soon, I thought. I wondered if Gabriel did karaoke. Most people think I’m a dork for loving karaoke bars, but I didn’t care. There was nothing like taking shots and singing your heart out to a crow
d who expected bad music and loved every minute of it.

  Chapter 9

  The drive there was unexpectedly short and I arrived before I knew it. I saw the line already wrapped around the building and sighed. I really hoped he had remembered to save me a seat. I splurged on valet parking and started the walk to the back of the line. My phone buzzed and I pulled it out of my new jacket pocket.