I looked over Eric’s shoulder as our bodies molded to one another, wanting to observe the crowd, but all their faces were turned away from me. I tried to move around to catch a glimpse of even a profile, but did not succeed.
Suddenly, there was a high-pitched screeching, buzzing sound going off in the penthouse. An alarm, I thought to myself. The chaos was immediate and Eric worked hard to rush me through the crowd to the door. Again, I tried to look upon the faces of those I passed, but they were always blurred, as if our movements were too fast to allow me to focus on them. I was forced out the entryway by Eric, who did not follow. The door was closing when I turned to face him, and in those fleeting seconds before it shut for good, I caught a glimpse of him.
And his face wasn’t human.
I shot out of bed realizing that the alarm I heard wasn’t in my dream. My godforsaken doorbell/buzzer/most-annoying-soundin-the-world was going off in high fashion. I sprang out of bed and stumbled down the hall. The microwave’s neon-green clock cast an eerie glow on the hardwood as I passed by the kitchen. 4:17am…I swear to God if it’s some asshole, pot smoker with a fast watch I’m going to get absolutely medieval on someone…
“WHAT?” I screamed into the intercom hoping to scare the living daylights out of the unlucky recipient.
“Ruby? Are you OK in there?” the voice asked.
“There are stalker laws in New Hampshire, you know,” I growled into the box on the wall. “I got all your messages, and I sent you one back. Now I’d like to go to sleep, so leave me alone!”
“I tried calling you after your text, but your machine didn’t pick up and your cell went straight to voicemail. I wanted to make sure you were OK. Can I come up?” he asked.
“NO!”
“Are you sure you’re all right? I just need to know you’re in one piece,” he pleaded.
No, everything is not okay. I had the night from hell, the dream from hell, and now the lack-of-sleep-experience from hell…
“Will it make you go away?” I asked.
“Of course.”
“Then fine,” I replied before opening the door. Instead of buzzing him in, I stormed out of the apartment, flipping the hall light on, and proceeded to descend half way down the stairs. I then did a dramatic little spin which clearly displaying that both my front and back sides were all accounted for and unharmed. I was met with a most dissatisfied look coming through the windowed door.
“For the love of all that’s holy…” I muttered under my breath.
I completed the trek down the stairs to the door, then unlocked and opened it just enough to stick my head through. That concession did not appear to be enough for him, so he forced the door open the rest of the way in and stepped into the foyer.
“Sean, seriously, what is your damage? This is truly unhealthy behavior! Stress is the number one cause of disease and you are one step away from an ulcer, my friend…”
“Where were you tonight?” he asked, eyeing me intently. ”Nice jammies by the way. A little flashy for bedtime, don’t you think?”
I looked down and realized that I hadn’t changed out of my party outfit. I supposed he had a point there. I scowled before responding, not exactly in the most friendly of moods to begin with. I wasn’t much of a morning person and it was very, very early in the morning.
“I went out, though I’d have thought that was child’s play for your keen sense of deduction since I don’t exactly parade around in this outfit often.”
“Where?” he asked folding his arms over his chest.
“Boston,” I replied mimicking him.
“With?”
“Someone.”
“For what?”
“A party.”
He cocked an eyebrow and pressed his lips tightly together.
“Whose party?”
“I doubt you know him. Contrary to popular belief, Sean, you don’t know everybody.”
His face hardened for a moment before continuing. He looked hurt and angry, but was controlling it well considering how badly I was baiting him. His breathing was slow and deliberate as though trying to diffuse his rising temper. He massaged his forehead, rubbing tiny circles on it with his thumb and index finger.
“Listen…,” he began with a pause. “I know Eric. I know he’s bad news. You need to stay away from him, Ruby.”
Busted.
“So you admit it finally? You two do know each other.”
“Yes,” he said simply.
“That’s it? Just ‘yes’?” I prodded.
“Yes.”
“Awfully tight-lipped for someone who expects me to spill the beans about my evening.”
“Some things are just better left alone, Ruby,” he said as he walked past me up the stairs.
“Ummmmmmmm, excuse me? I don’t believe I asked if you wanted to come up.”
“No,” he said, hesitating slightly at the top stair. “No, I don’t believe you did.” He took the last step slowly before stalking into my home.
With a sigh, I climbed up the stairs and walked into the apartment to find him rummaging through the fridge for an early morning snack, his butt sticking out from behind the door. It was hard to stay angry at an ass like that.
“I’m going to bed,” I said wearily.
“That’s fine. I’m going to hang out.”
“And eat all my food?” I added.
“That too, though I have to say your selection is really going downhill these days.”
“Whatever. Back to dreaming for me.”
“Were you when I came?” he asked sounding far more interested than expected. “I wondered what was taking you so long.”
“Did you expect me to just pop out of bed and come running?” I asked, closing the refrigerator door on him.
“No, not really. Nothing is ever that easy or convenient with you.”
“Whatever,” I scoffed, turning to leave. “I’m going back to bed.”
“So what was this dream about?” he asked as he walked towards me with a box of leftover Chinese in one hand and chopsticks in the other.
Back to Interrogation 101…
“I don’t know. It was sort of a strange version of my evening, but it left off…” I said, cutting myself off. How could I explain something that I couldn’t even fully wrap my head around? “It ended weird.”
“How so?” he prodded. “Define ‘weird’.”
“I don’t know, Sean. It wasn’t exactly crystal clear,” I started, feeling my irritation with him growing. “I turned to see Eric, only it wasn’t him. His face…it was…it was all wrong.”
His chopsticks never faltered.
“Like it wasn’t him?” he asked, shoveling lo mein into his mouth.
“No…no it was him, but at the same time, it wasn’t. He didn’t look human. But whatever, it was just a dream,” I told him dismissively. “It was a really long night and it didn’t mean anything. Last night I rode a tricycle down Madison Avenue in a bikini. I doubt that has some greater meaning.”
“You did, eh?” he asked, cocking his damned eyebrow again. I started to think that thing had a mind of its own.
“In my dream, you ass. In my dream,” I said with exasperation.
“Oh. That’s too bad. I would have liked to have seen that,” he said, winking at me. He turned, heading back to the living room, and I watched him walk away, all strength and confidence wrapped up in one tall, dark package.
“You don’t think it means something…do you?” I asked as he nestled onto the couch.
“Go to bed, Ruby,” he replied without looking at me. “Get some sleep.”
In a rare act of compliance, I went to my room and did just that.
18
My dream never returned. Instead, I woke up hours later to the smell of breakfast being made, accompanied by classical music. If only all mornings started this way.
I floated up from my bed and continued down the hall to find Sean in the kitchen making pancakes and fruit salad while boiling
water for tea. He had clearly gone to the store, since I had none of the provisions required for such a meal.
“You’re going to be such a good housewife one day,” I sighed as he flipped the pancakes gracefully.
“At least one of us will,” he replied, lifting only his eyes up from the griddle. It was enough to see the sparkle in them and I knew instantly that his mouth was curling up at the left corner in an effort to stifle the laughter his little comeback had created.
“Were you up all night?” I asked casually.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Why do you insist upon asking questions that you don’t really want the answer to?” he asked with the slightest hint of irritation.
“But I do want to know why,” I countered.
“Fine. I was waiting to see if Eric would show up,” he said.
Weird…
“Why? Why would he? That’s really messed up, Sean,” I replied with my own injection of irritation this time.
“No, it’s not,” he said as he cleared the griddle, preparing it for the next round.
“Seriously, you’re starting to sound crazy. Paranoid even,” I told him.
“Listen!” he shouted as he slammed the spatula down on the counter. I’d forgotten I even had one of those.
“I got a call from my buddy, who bounces at Vain. He mentioned that he’d seen you drive up to the club and pick Eric up. He also mentioned that a couple of hours later he saw you go flying by in your TT. Alone. He thought something might be up so he let me know,” he explained.
“So you’re spying on me?” I said accusingly.
“No, but Eric is a regular at the club, and the guys there know how he is. They also know how important you are, so they were checking in to be sure I knew what was up.”
“So the note and your little inquisition were all for show? You knew where I’d been and who I’d been with the whole time?” I shouted, lunging towards him. “Why the theatrics? Is it too much to get some honesty from people these days?”
“You want to lecture me about honesty?” he growled down to me. “Get off your high horse, Ruby. Talk to your little boyfriend about honesty. I doubt he could even define it.”
With that he grabbed a handful of pancakes and stalked towards the door.
“Enjoy your fucking breakfast,” he said, slamming it behind him.
The whole situation seemed to escalate abnormally quickly, and I was left wondering what I missed. Reading between the lines required knowledge of what page you were on; I wasn’t even in the right book.
I picked up a pancake, flopping it around back and forth over my hand for a moment before taking a big bite out of it. The boy could cook, that was for sure. What he couldn’t do was be up front about things. He was always so secretive and mysterious. The way he always just popped in when I was stressed out or in a bind, saving the day. The way he always did things so easily while I struggled. The way he evaded questions, but demanded answers like he was used to complete compliance from others, and the way he clammed up at the mere mention of Eric’s name.
I’d had it. I was going to get some answers for myself. Major answers.
I finished up everything that Sean had made, seeing no sense in letting good food go to waste. I thought it was odd that I hadn’t heard anything from Eric yet that morning until it dawned on me that all my phones were still unplugged and turned off. I ran through the house plugging them back in. I grabbed my cell from my nightstand, flipped it open and powered it up. There were thirty-two new voicemails. I started to listen to them: one from Eric, one from Sean, another from Eric, again from Sean. It went back and forth for about the first eight messages, then it was only Eric. He sounded positively desperate. I instantly felt guilty for letting my anger get the better of me, causing him to have a sleepless night of worry. I was getting out of my messages’ to call him when a beep came through; he was on the other line.
“Hello,” I said, looking at the mess of clothes that still covered my bedroom floor.
“RUBY!! Are you OK? Why the fuck haven’t you called me?” he yelled. I had to hold the phone away from my ear to avoid the deafening sound. I was once again angered for a brief moment. Why is he yelling at me?
“I think you ought to take that down a notch if you expect me to stay on the line,” I said sternly.
He started back peddling immediately.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, you’re right. I was just so worried.”
“I texted you and told you I was fine. I don’t see what the big deal is.”
“Anybody could have sent that text using your phone, Ruby. I didn’t know it was you,” he said with deep concern in his voice.
“What is with you guys? Everybody is so freaking paranoid. What did you think happened? Someone jumped me going ninety miles per hour down the interstate? Not likely,” I said.
He paused for awhile, his deep breathing coming across the phone with increasing volume.
“You guys?” he inquired trying to stifle the growing anger in his voice.
“Yes. You guys. Sean was just here and equally paranoid. He showed up at four a.m. to make sure I was OK,” I told him. ”Apparently he knew where I was last night because he has his buddies at the club keeping an eye on me. They saw me pick you up.”
Again, the breathing was all that I heard through the phone. That was until I heard a muffled man-scream, followed by the crash of something very large, like furniture, being broken in the background.
“I’m coming over. I need to talk to you…explain some things. What time?” he asked.
It was already early afternoon. I had some things to do at work and apparently, according to Sean, needed to get some groceries too.
“Five would work…but-”
“I’ll see you then,” he said quickly, and I thought he’d hung up the phone until his voice returned, much softer, somewhat pleading.
“Ruby?”
“Yes?”
“Do me a favor? Please?” he asked.
“I guess.”
“Stay away from Sean,” he said.
“But, Eric, he’s my frie-”
“I know, I know. Just stay away from him at least until I can meet with you.”
I sighed deeply aloud.
“OK. I don’t understand, but I’ll do it,” I said with the returning need to please him.
“I’ll see you soon,” he said, and hung up.
All my life I was virtually without companionship, especially the male kind, and now I was being torn between the two men in my life. I felt as though I would eventually have to make a choice between the man who saved me and the man who made me need to be saved from myself.
Always between a rock and a hard place…
19
I mindlessly ran errands then tied up some loose ends at the shop, but it was impossible to focus on anything other than seeing Eric again. There was a constant swirl of emotions running through me, and my frontal lobe was too busy sorting through the sensations to make room for much else. I knew that when I saw him I’d be hit with the wall of heat/attraction/belonging that I always was, but it seemed to be a little less pronounced with each encounter, and for that I counted my blessings. On the other hand, my hurt and anger was still very much alive, and the only way to abate that was answers, and lots of them. I hoped he was in the caring and sharing kind of mood when he arrived.
When I returned home, I set about doing a few more menial tasks to kill time before his arrival. He had texted to say he would be arriving in about fifteen minutes, and it was all I could do to keep from spontaneously combusting. It set me into a frenzy and I was positive my apartment had never been so clean.
The most-annoying-soundin-the-world eventually went off and like Pavlov’s dog, I flew to the intercom to buzz him in. He had the good sense to look sheepish as he climbed the stairs to my apartment, and pulled from behind his back the most glorious bouquet of flowers. There were bursts of magenta Dendrobium and Cymbidium o
rchids, citron and chartreuse lilies with pockets of mandarin-colored pod-like blossoms that I didn’t recognize. They were exotic and expensive - the best. They by no means made up for his actions from the previous night, but he was working hard to make up for it, so I had to give him points for that.
“Ruby, I don’t really know where to start,” he said apologetically. His eyes downcast, his posture submissive.
“I have an idea,” I said, calmly. “Why don’t you let me ask what I want to know. We can start there.” I hadn’t wanted to sound irritated, but there was an undeniable tone to my words. I smiled brightly when his gaze met mine to try to cover up the anger seeping through.
“Fair enough,” he replied, golden eyes affixed to mine. “Fire away.”
I had thought about how I wanted to interrogate him all afternoon, but when given the chance, I seemed scattered and unfocused on what the really important issues were.
“Good. We can start with Sean,” I instructed. “You two have some serious bullshit going on between you and I can smell it for miles. I want to know why you two hate each other so much.” I demanded.
“I think I’d rather start with the party, if that’s OK with you?” he asked.
Uggggggghhhhhhh…
I was instantly annoyed by his question dodging, when he clearly promised he’d let me direct the conversation. That was until he stepped so near me that I could feel the heat radiating off of his body. It was instant forgiveness.
“Fine,” I said, breathily. “Tell me what happened.”
He paced the room, taking his time, seeming to choose his words carefully.
“My friends are a little different. It’s an interesting group dynamic when we get together.”
“That’s the understatement of the year,” I blurted like a Tourette’s sufferer. “Sorry, please continue. Tell me about Marcus,” I said, voice softening. “I get a strange read from him.”
“Marcus is great. He’s the reason I’m in Boston. I met him awhile back and he made a business proposition that I couldn’t walk away from. We’ve been really tight ever since,” he said with admiration. He stopped wearing holes in my rug for a moment to look me in the eyes. “You didn’t like him?” he asked, genuinely surprised. “He seemed absolutely taken with you. You were all he spoke about for the rest of the evening.”
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