Love of Steele

by Ivy Raine

  “Actually, I didn’t bring a lunch today. Didn’t have time.”

  “I have Jennifer working on that.” Brad ushered to her the table and pulled out her chair.

  “I don’t want to sound ungrateful,” she began, “but why, exactly, did you invite me to lunch? Am I in for a reprimand?”

  Brad’s mouth opened just a bit, before curling into a smile. This little, seemingly innocent, gesture put Marta on alert. She’d seen the same ornery look on Stash’s face when she said something that could be taken and twisted into something dirty.

  “No. Nothing like that.”

  A tussle erupted in the other room, and a few moments later Jennifer appeared with a tray of food. “It’s nice and warm,” she said, smiling at Brad. However, that lovely, perfectly bleached smile dropped when it came to Marta. “Hope you enjoy your lunch.”

  Brad grabbed her hand and gave it a pat. “Thank you. Let me know when the dinner crowd starts.”

  Jennifer looked back and forth between them for a few seconds, and for a fleeting moment, Marta thought she was going to burst. She reminded Marta of a kid who couldn’t wait to get home to tell on their sibling. With one last, long look at Marta, Jennifer deflated like a balloon, turned, and left.

  “I don’t think she likes me very much.”

  Brad handed Marta a plate with the day’s lunch special. “Sure she does. She’s just a little possessive. She’s been here since I opened eight years ago, and I’ll admit that she gets a little territorial. No harm meant, though. She’s got my best interest at heart.”

  Though the scent of the food wafting up under her nose was more than a little enticing, Marta couldn’t touch it until she knew exactly why she’d been summoned into Brad’s forbidden lair.

  “Why am I here?” She smiled and shook her head. “That didn’t come out exactly right.”

  Brad grinned, showing her the full weight of what money can do for a smile. “It’s okay. I like philosophy.”

  “Seriously. My stomach’s tied up in knots. What did I do wrong? If it’s about this morning, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” If she had to, she’d cry. Nowhere else would she find a job with the same pay scale and potential.

  Picking up his fork, Brad wasted no time in digging into his chicken cacciatori. “You didn’t do anything wrong, and it is about this morning.”

  That one spun around and refused to land in a spot where she could make sense of it. “I’m not understanding.”

  “Eat before it gets cold.” He picked up her fork and held it out. “Let me try and explain if I can.” Taking a deep breath, he held it for a few seconds before letting it out, and Marta could have sworn she heard nervous vibration. “When Mr. Steele called me this morning, I found myself getting extremely irritated, and at first I thought it was because you were blowing us off today. Then, as the conversation progressed, I realized it was something entirely different.” He paused, his dark eyes full of fear for what he was about to say. “I realized I was jealous.”

  Marta’s heart skipped a beat. Jealous. No matter how many times she beat it around in her head, there was only one reason why he would be jealous.

  “I’m…not really sure what to say.”

  “You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to.” Now he was getting visibly nervous. “I just wanted to see if there was any possibility that maybe you’d go out with me sometime … like Friday night.”

  There he sat, looking all of sixteen, waiting for the shoe to drop. What could Marta say? She no longer had the boyfriend angle to fall back on, and with Stash having a little fling with Blondie, what did it matter now, anyway?

  “I accept. Friday sounds good.” Where in the hell did those words come from? Marta realized they came way too easily to be simply an answer to his question. This was a revenge date. Not that she’d be disappointed in a date with Bradley Mirelli. He was, by general standards, extremely good looking, smart, and – dare she say it – successful.

  “Perfect! I have tickets to a wine tasting event, and those things are no fun alone. There’ll be dinner and dancing, too.”

  Though she smiled and nodded, a pang of guilt jabbed at Marta. She tried to chase it away. After all, she and Stash were never an item even though he as much as claimed her on more than one occasion. Her internal turmoil meter was about to overload. Purely on the animalistic side, she wanted Stash, but on the logical side, she knew the chances of him sticking to one woman for the rest of his life was almost as impossible as breathing underwater.

  Marta found herself still hashing the situation over on the drive to pick Stash up later that afternoon. When the gas station came into view, Marta’s heart picked up the pace.

  There she was again – blondie. This time she strode toward the van with purpose. Marta tensed and braced herself for the claws.

  “Hello!” Blondie smiled and waved.

  Marta checked the mirror. Had she changed that much over the last few hours?

  “Um. Hello. Stash around?”

  Blondie leaned down into Marta’s window, revealing a little more of herself than Marta cared to see. “He’s washing his hands. We kept him busy today.”

  “Great. Idle hands and all.”

  “Stash tells me you guys are roommates. That’s probably hard, considering.”

  Marta knew exactly what she meant. “Not really. Looks fade. Intelligence pays.” While true, she didn’t exactly believe it when it came to Stash. He had looks and intelligence, and he oozed confidence – superficial confidence to be sure, but it was still sexy.

  “I’ve gotta admit that I was pretty keyed up when I saw you this morning. I had no idea Stash’s roommate was a girl.” Blondie played with the gum peeking out between her pearly whites. “By the way. My name’s Belinda. Lindi for short.”

  So, blondie had a name after all.

  “My name’s Marta.” Sometimes she really wished she had a name that could be twisted into a cute nickname.

  “Beautiful! I didn’t think you were picking me up today.” Stash was all smiles as he exited the back door of the garage. He looked at Lindi. “I guess I won’t need that ride, babe.”

  Babe. Marta nearly gagged at how easily the word rolled off of his tongue. However, babe ate it up, especially after he’d just called Marta ‘beautiful’.

  Stash flung open the door and hopped in.

  “Hmm. Must be a ‘b’ thing.” Marta raised a brow and gave a finger wave to Lindi before pulling out.

  “What?”

  Marta rolled her eyes. “Babe, back there. It must be a ‘b’ thing with you. Beautiful, babe – you know. A ‘b’ thing.”

  The grin on Stash’s face bordered on obnoxious. “Jealous?”

  “Of her?” She tried a little too hard to sound convincing. “She’s short. Her skin’s bordering on dried leather and her implants are uneven. What does she have that I should want?”

  “Yeah, but she smiles when I drag my tired butt through the door in the morning, and she hates to see me go in the afternoon. Basically, she just wants to be near me. That’s what I call a perfect woman despite the imperfections you seem to have conjured up in your mind.”

  “Conjured? Since when is pointing out facts conjuring?”

  “Since you didn’t point out the other obvious facts.”

  Now Marta was confused. “Such as?”

  “Her great smile. It’s natural, too. No braces or cosmetic dentistry. And her legs. Did you happen to notice how toned they are? And best of all, she can cook like a pro. She brought in homemade doughnuts today.”

  A rush of heat raced up Marta’s neck. “So, is she the date you refused to discuss?” That came out with just a tad too much snark. Why in the hell did it matter? She’d made a date with Brad, so why couldn’t he date someone if he wanted to? Marta tried to convince herself she wasn’t jealous. It didn’t work.

  “I’m not the kind of man to wait on a woman for very long, beautiful.”

  Now Marta was getting mad. What di
d he expect her to do, jump into his bed just to keep him hanging around? “Well, it just so happens that I don’t wait around either, Aaron Herman Steele.”

  An icy chill settled between them, and it was as if Stash knew exactly where she was going with her insinuation. “Let me guess. Money man made you an offer you couldn’t refuse.”

  Marta gave him a good, long stare before answering. “I didn’t even hesitate. You see, he actually asked me out on a date instead of just expecting me to fall all over him simply because he breathes.”

  “Does this have anything to do with that little phone call I made this morning?” Stash drummed his fingers faster and faster against the arm rest.

  “Actually, it does. If it hadn’t been for that call, Brad probably never would have asked me out, so, you can blame yourself for this one.”

  Stash grunted. “I’m not the one that said ‘yes’, beautiful. You are.”

  Marta punched down the gas? “Really? How many times have you said ‘yes’ to Lindi?” When Stash didn’t answer, Marta’s suspicions were confirmed. “Just as I thought. Guilty!”

  “And what if I am?” he snarled back. “I’ve taken you to the second step a half a dozen times and you keep pulling away. You need some serious counseling to get over whatever the hell that guy did to you.”

  An explosion of emotions erupted all at once. Marta struggled to keep her voice steady despite the hot tears that were now racing down her cheeks.

  “He died on me, you bastard!” That was the first time she’d said the words out loud in nearly six years – and they hurt like hell. “He fucking died in my arms!”

  A deluge of tears spilled out, and the hard lump that normally wedged itself in her throat nearly cut off her oxygen supply. She could see Kyle more clearly than she’d ever seen him before …

  “What do you mean? You can’t be serious!” Despite his intoxication, Kyle seemed to sober up in a hurry. “I love you Marta! I thought you felt the same way.”

  “I…it’s just that I never thought of you that way. We’re friends.” The warm, summer ocean breeze picked up Marta’s curls and tossed them in her face. She bent down and wiggled her beer can down into the sand to keep from knocking it over. “You’re my best friend, Kyle.”

  To tell a guy that he was a friend was a step up from a stake through the heart, but Marta was young and inexperienced.

  “Oh, my god!” Kyle stumbled backward and into the sand, spilling his beer all over the front of his shirt. “I can’t believe I’ve wasted my whole summer hoping-.” He stopped himself. “Why did you lead me on?” he said, flinging the beer can aside. “The hours we spent kissing. Didn’t they mean anything to you? I was hoping today – after all these years.” Looking toward the ocean, he rubbed the beer from his hands into the warm sand. “I even brought a blanket.”

  Marta tried to formulate a logical explanation, but nothing would come. To her, it was nothing more than a little innocent experimentation between friends. Up until that moment, the thought of Kyle being in love with her never crossed her mind. “I didn’t mean to make you think things, Kyle. I didn’t know how you felt.”

  Reaching up, Kyle grabbed her behind the knees and pulled her down into his lap. His hands were everywhere, and the more Marta struggled, the tighter he held. “You didn’t know?” he groaned as he undid the top of her bathing suit, exposing her bare breasts. “What did you think we were doing? Does this feel like an experiment?” She squealed when his fingers slid into her bikini bottom.

  “Stop it!” She shoved him away and he let loose, sending her onto her back in the sand.

  “I almost hate you,” he said, looking away. “Almost.” He turned his pale brown eyes on her again. “But I don’t think anyone could really hate you. You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. And you were mine. Or so I thought,” he added with an injured sniff. He stumbled to his feet. “I’m going home. I’ve gotta pack.”

  “Pack?” Marta clamored up and chased after him like she did when they were little. “I thought you had another week?”

  “What do you care? You’re off to Arizona tonight.” He kicked at the sand, sending a shower of grit through the wind. “My roommate’s already there, so why should I stick around in this little hole town? There’s over four thousand college girls to pick from, and I don’t plan on wasting any more time.” The hurt on his face tore a hole in Marta’s heart. She hadn’t meant for it to come to this.

  “Kyle, please! I’m just not ready for this.” It was true. It’s not that she didn’t think about sex – a lot – she did. Something, though, held her back on this one. She and Kyle had experimented with everything together from a puff on a tossed out cigarette to their first taste of beer. She even helped him get his hands on his first girly magazine – back when she was still just his dirty, little side-kick. One thing, however, Kyle tasted all on his own – girls. At the time when Marta found out he lost his virginity to Lexi Humbert, she was hurt – not that it hadn’t been her, but that he hadn’t confided in her. She found out through the grapevine called the locker room while she was slipping out of her sweaty tennis shoes one Friday afternoon in April. Lexi didn’t seem to think it was a big deal and even joked about his ineptness compared to her other conquests. Lexi began his string of many until he finally realized Marta had blossomed into something unusual and exotic. From that point on, the girls became more infrequent and he started chasing after Marta instead of the other way around. Maybe that’s how this whole thing started – attention. Not the sexual kind, but the kind she’d been running after for five years and never quite catching – until the day Kyle finally took off his blinders and saw something that she didn’t realize she possessed.

  Kyle spun around and took two steps toward her. “If you’re not ready by now, you’ll never be ready. I pity the poor guy who falls in love with you, Marta. He’ll be dead before you’re ready to give it up.”

  Marta crossed her arms and kicked sand all over Kyle’s feet. “Just watch me,” she hissed. “Jared asked me out and I plan on letting him have whatever he wants.” Well, part of it was true. Jared had asked her out.

  “Jared? Egghead Jared?”

  “He doesn’t have an egghead,” said Marta, heading toward the water’s edge. “You’re just jealous because he got a spot on the football team and you didn’t.”

  Kyle quickly caught up and grabbed her by the arm. “That’s got nothing to do with it! That was last year.”

  She wiggled out of his grip and ran toward the waves lapping at the sandy shore. Just as her feet hit the water, Kyle dove in front of her

  “You’re stupid if you do that!” Kyle swam alongside Marta as she cut through the frothy water. “He’s been planning this for a while now. It’s a wonder your name’s not written on the bathroom stalls, yet. Why do you think I can’t stand him?” An incoming wave washed up over Kyles head. “Tell me you won’t,” he said, spitting out a mouth of salt-water. “Promise me you won’t.”

  Marta wanted to make him suffer a little longer. “I don’t make promises I can’t keep.” Venturing deeper into the water, she stopped when she saw Kyle struggling to keep up. He wasn’t the strongest swimmer, especially not with an alcohol buzz. He had, in fact, told her the water was his biggest fear. That’s why he forced himself to learn to swim three years earlier. “Go back, Kyle! The water’s getting choppy.”

  “Not until you promise me,” he said, another wave washing over him. “Please, Marta!”

  “I’m going back!” Marta headed for a cropping of rocks jutting into the water. That’s when she felt the cramp hit her right, lower leg. Struggling to keep her head above the pounding waves, Marta panicked and reached for Kyle.

  “I’ve got you!”

  She felt his strong arms scoop in around her, forcing her through the water toward the rocks. Those fifty feet seemed like five thousand, and by the time they reached the halfway point, Kyle was beaten down by exhaustion.

  “Let me go, now.” Marta knew
he couldn’t go much farther and her cramp had let up. She felt his arms release and she cut through the water toward the rocks. “Stay close!” she yelled over her shoulder.

  Marta had heard Kyle puffing behind her and thought he was keeping up, but as soon as she dragged herself up onto the warm, flat rock, she realized that something was wrong.

  “Kyle! Where are you?”

  A hand jutted from the water about twenty feet out and then Kyle’s head appeared for a brief moment. The look of terror on his face seared itself into her memory forever.

  Marta remembered a scream – hers or Kyle’s, she couldn’t say – and two men appeared from somewhere nearby. It seemed like they moved in slow motion, and by the time they pulled Kyle’s body from the water, he was barely alive. She sat in the sand, hovering just over his head as the men worked to try and revive him. That’s when she saw the sand clumping up into crimson globs at the back of his head.

  An ache like she’d never felt before gripped at her heart. She was sure she could feel it swelling inside her chest. Pulling his bloody head into her lap, Marta could do little more than hold him while he died.

  Later, after the funeral, she’d find out that he was dead when they pulled him from the water. Hit his head on a rock just under the surface and he died instantly, they’d said, but Marta could never allow herself to believe that. She would swear to anyone who would listen that she saw his eyes flutter and look up at her just before he died in her lap.

  Stash reached over and gripped the wheel, easing the van away from the center line on the road. “Maybe you should pull over and let me finish the drive home.” No longer spewing anger, Stash laid his hand across the back of her sweaty neck. “Come on, beautiful. Let me drive.”

  The groan of the rumble strip vibrated in Marta’s ears as she edged the van to the side of the highway. There she sat, slumped over the wheel, moaning like a baby, while Stash rubbed her back in gentle circles. After what seemed like ages, Marta sat up and wiped her eyes with a leftover napkin from their last fast food run.