"Not at all!"
"Well, now you know," I whisper in his ear. "Don’t worry about the fountain, though; most people won’t pay attention to it because they’ll be too busy staring in awe at the ivy climbing the smooth, gray stone walls of your estate. Your mansion is gray and green, stone and ivy. Well, and moss too, of course—you can’t avoid that this close to the ocean."
"It sounds beautiful," he whispers.
"It is. Apart from that ridiculous fountain, it’s a gorgeous, elegant old house and definitely a place to be proud of."
"Thank you, Irene."
"You’re welcome," I whisper back to him as a proud smile streaks across my face. He’s not thanking me for complimenting his house and I know it.
As we reach the front stoop, he tightens his grip around my arm and my heart skips a beat. I suddenly feel light-headed as we climb the stairs to the front door, and the scent of his cologne mixing with the apple and pumpkin on his breath isn’t helping any. The electric lanterns on each step cast sharp shadows across his face as we pass them and... oh, I can barely think straight anymore. I want so badly to kiss him right now, but I know better than to give in to the temptation. It’d ruin everything, and I can’t let myself lose control like that.
It’s pitch black inside, and Terrence clears his throat as I fumble for the light switch.
"Irene... I had a wonderful time with you tonight," he says, sounding almost shy for a moment. "Thank you so much for getting me out of the mece clears house... and out my shell, too."
" I had fun too, Terrence," I whisper, flicking on the light just in time to gaze into his gorgeous green eyes and get dragged down into them.
Between those eyes and that handsome smile, I just can’t take it anymore. I move in close, place my hands on his shoulders, and kiss him softly on the lips.
I have to stand on the tips of my toes to reach him, but God it’s so worth it! A delicious shiver races from the base of my skull all the way down my spine as I kiss him and taste the sweet apple on his lips.
He tenses up as my lips find his, but then suddenly his arms are around me, pulling me in tightly against his chest as he kisses me back with a passion that takes my breath away. His tongue parts my lips, playing with me, exploring me, and I let out a soft moan and close my eyes as he runs his hands softly down my back.
God, I wanted this so badly. I’ve wanted to kiss Terrence all night, and now that I’m in his embrace, it’s everything I could've hoped for and more. Terrence's embrace has the same inscrutable feeling of comforting calm and electrifying delight that I felt when Isaac held me, and it's the best feeling in the world.
Stop it, I tell myself, pressing in closer to Terrence and letting my fingers trail down his strong chest. Terrence is wonderful on his own—he doesn’t have to be Isaac.
Terrence breaks away from the kiss for one brief instant, his breathing shallow and quick with longing, and he takes my hands tightly in his before diving back in for another kiss. He misses this time, kissing me first hard on the cheek and then the chin before finally finding my anxiously waiting lips.
I let out a soft sigh as his lips touching mine, and suddenly he yanks me in close, spins me around, and pushes me back against the door with my hands pinned on either side of my head. My heartbeat races faster and faster as his lips crash into mine in a heady kiss, so perfect, so intoxicating that my legs start to shake.
Terrence releases my hands as he slowly trails his fingers down my arms, setting my skin on fire as he gently traces the curve of my neck, and I draw in a sharp, excited breath as he fumbles with the top button of my blouse. I can’t believe I’m letting him do this, but... but I want it. I want to feel his hands on my body, to feel his warmth and his strong arms around me.
"God, I need you right now, Irene," he whispers, his voice quiet but urgent and so filled with desire that it sends an icy-hot shiver down my spine. His voice is like a shot of caffeine straight to my veins, awakening my entire body and making my head spin with longing.
I want him. I want him so much!
"When you two are finished, I kind of need to get to the front door," calls out a cold voice from behind him, and suddenly the mood not only dies but also handles its own eulogy and burial. "It’s getting a little late, you know, and I’d like to go home at some point."
Charlotte stands mere feet from us, dressed in her perfectly fitted black dress-suit as always, and she taps her foot impatiently with her arms crossed over her chest as she holds an enormous pile of binders.
"Oh, sortifaps her ry," apologizes Terrence in embarrassment, pulling away from me as I hurriedly straighten out my shirt. "We didn’t mean to get in your way."
Suddenly, he’s as cold and distant as the day of our interview. It's as if he’s somehow slammed the door on the passion he felt just seconds ago. It was everything he could do not to undress me right then and there, but now he's just my boss again as he hooks his arm around my elbow for supports. Whatever he felt only a moment ago is gone.
"Oh, don’t let me inconvenience you," says Charlotte, poisonous sarcasm dripping from every word. "I’m just working late on a Friday. Again. Don’t mind me protecting your company, Terrence; I’ll just head home and leave you two to... whatever it was you were doing."
As she passes, she casts me a black look that makes my blood run cold. It’s more than just anger or hatred—it’s something deeper, something more threatening than that. I can almost hear the unspoken words in my mind as she heads for the door. I’ve overstepped my bounds, she’s saying, and I’m taking something she’s already laid claim to.
She saw what Terrence and I were doing, and she’s going to get even with me for it.
"Charlotte?" Terrence calls after her, but she slams the door behind her without another word.
"I don’t think she likes me," I whisper, and he sighs and shakes his head.
"No, she doesn’t," he says with a shrug, "but that’s her problem and not yours, okay?"
I’m pretty sure she’s going to make it my problem soon enough, but I agree with him anyway. Now that our moment of passion has passed, time and fatigue catch up and crash down on me. I can suddenly barely keep my eyes open, and Terrence’s contagious yawn spreads to me moments later. I could almost swear that he magically grew a five o’clock shadow in the time since Charlotte interrupted us.
"Would you mind walking me up to bed, Irene?" he asks, but I can tell there’s nothing hiding behind the question—no implications, no request for me to join him... he just wants my help going upstairs.
The moment has passed and the passion is dead. I'm once again nothing more to him but an employee.
"Yeah, it’s getting late," I whisper. "Come on, let’s go."
Step by slow, awkward step, I guide him silently up the stairs.
"I had a great night, Terrence," I tell him as we reach the top. He says nothing, though, until we’re down the hall and almost to his bedroom door.
"We... we shouldn’t be doing this," he whispers. "I’m sorry."
I know he’s right, but the words kill me all the same. We both saw what was about to happen—the incredible, wondrous thing we were about to do together—and the next step is too dangerous. He can’t be both a boyfriend and a boss. I can never let that happen—not while he’s still paying me.
I’m only one step away from becoming my mother if that happens, and I’ll never let myself become her.
"I’m sorry too," I whisper back as I hold the door open for him. "It’s okay, though—it’s my fault for—"
"No," he says abruptly, interrupting me. "It was horribly unprofessional of me, and I promise it won’t happen again."
His tone is cold and purely professional now, and I swallow hard as a lump forms in my throat. I don’t want the professional Terrence; I want the lighthearted man I just spent the entire night laughing with, the man who was about to tear my clothes in passion right there in the doorway until his bitch of a lawyer showed up.
The wall betw
een us grows thicker and more impenetrable with each step toward his bed, and by the time he’s under his blankets, Terrence is so distant from me that I can barely believe we kissed at all.
Maybe he didn’t want me after all. Maybe it was only the alcohol. God, I hope not.
Please, please don’t let that be what happened tonight, I silently beg as I turn toward the door. I don’t know what happened tonight—what brought us into each other’s arms like that in the first place, even—but now that I’ve had a taste, I want more of it.
"Anything else before I leave, sir?" I ask, emphasizing the final word as I look over my shoulder at him from the doorway.
"Could you bring me my cassette player, please? It’s sitting on the dresser, I think."
I can’t decide whether his voice sounds sad, upset or guilty, and a pang of remorse hits me squarely in the stomach. I don’t know what happened tonight, but I’m convinced now that I somehow hurt him.
I grab the old yellow tape deck and set it down on his lap as he nestles beneath the blankets. I haven’t seen a tape deck in years, not since my mother stole mine when I was sixteen.
"Thank you, Irene. Have a good night," he says, his voice stiff and awkward. I need to go—he clearly wants to be alone, and it’s best I leave before I ruin anything else tonight.
"Good night, Terrence," I whisper, and I hurry out the door.
Columbus is asleep on my bed with his head on one of the pillows when I get into my
room. I futilely try to shove him onto the floor. He’s not that big a dog, but I can’t even get him to budge no matter how hard I push him. I finally give up and climb under the covers, taking what little of the bed he isn’t hogging for himself.
I close my eyes and sigh, and the dog licks me on the cheek before falling back asleep again. It isn’t quite the goodnight kiss I’d hoped for, but it’ll have to do, I guess.
God, what a night... I have no idea what just happened.
The clock ticks ever closer to dawn as I lie in the dark, my thoughts spinning in endless circles until I finally fall asleep.
wi
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Chapter XIX
I’m sixteen and Isaac turns seventeen today...
I turn the invitation over and over in my hands as the taxi speeds through the woods, and I’m almost giddy with delight. ha today...
Isaac gave me the invitation on the final day of my in-school suspension and I saved up my pay from the diner for weeks afterward so I'd have enough to go to his party. I found the most beautiful, shimmering black dress I’d ever seen at the thrift store and snapped it up the second I laid eyes on it. The fabric is as soft as velvet and so, so comfortable, and I love how it sometimes looks purple depending on the lighting. I feel beautiful today and I can hardly wait to see how great the party is going to be!
I even managed to hide enough of my money from Mom to buy Isaac a present, but I left it back in my room like a dope. I’ll give it to him at school on Monday.
The taxi is more expensive than I budgeted for, but I don’t care at all. Right now, I’m too awestruck by the sight of his house to realize I don’t have a way home.
My god, this place is beautiful. It’s... it’s amazing! Ancient oak trees line both edges of the driveway and tower over me, their branches forming tall arches overhead. The flagstone driveway feels as if it goes on forever as I wobble toward the house in the black heels I purchased along with the dress. I’ve never worn heels before and I’m finding it very difficult to adjust to them.
At the end of the driveway, a hedge-lined stone path and whimsically colored balloons lead me to the front door. Ivy covers almost every inch of the stunning old mansion’s red brick and granite façade, and even the glassed-in conservatory at the east end has carefully situated ivy trellises. The estate’s lush gardens have a glorious view of Glen Lake, too, as if all this wasn’t enough already. I can’t imagine how much it must’ve cost to buy this place. Where do you even buy a mansion, anyway? You don’t exactly see them in a realtor’s window, after all.
Isaac has it all, doesn’t he? It’s all I can do not to start giggling. Here I am so proud of the dress I snatched up at the second-hand store and feeling like I’m dressed to the nines, and Isaac lives in a storybook mansion! It's almost as if I’m Cinderella on her way to see the prince.
I’m a little late to the party and the other guests are already here. I can hear them laughing and shouting inside, and it sounds like everyone’s having a blast. Isaac invited our entire class to his party. They all hate me, but I know they wouldn’t dare pull anything today, not at his party, right?
Or would they?
No, they wouldn’t. I’m being ridiculous. It’s his party, and nobody’s going to ruin his day just to make me miserable.
I ring the bell—a deep, four-note melody that echoes loudly throughout the house—and eventually Isaac opens the door and beams excitedly down at me.
"Nina! I’m so glad you could make it. Come on in!"
Before I can react, he leans in and hugs me tightly. I take in a sharp breath as he holds me, and I can feel my face flush in awkward embarrassment as a smile slowly spreads across my face. One tiny action, just one little hug, and suddenly I feel like I belong here. I’m not the outsider anymore; I’m his friend, maybe fri aceven his girlfriend. I’m not quite sure about that part yet. Even if it cost me every dime I had to get a taxi out here—and it did—I’m welcome here today.
"Okay, the party’s in the living room right now," he says, guiding me through the labyrinthine house. "Make yourself comfortable, and have a drink and some snacks if you’d like."
We go down a long hallway, take a right through first one door and then another, and just when I’m certain we’ve gone in a circle, we’re suddenly in a wide-open room with couches, a big-screen television taking up most of the wall, and a glass patio door looking out over the lake. The room is packed with our classmates, and I immediately pick out Sarah’s glare in the crowd. Nobody’s particularly happy to see me, she least of all.
A glass shatters in the next room and I hear a woman start yelling. Isaac groans and shakes his head.
"Sounds like the caterers broke something—let me go deal with things before Mom flips out, and I’ll come find you in a few, okay?" says Isaac, and he shoots me such a sweet smile that I get lightheaded. Before I can say anything else, he disappears out the door again and leaves me with the rest of the guests.
Suddenly, I don’t feel as welcome anymore. The feeling of belonging crumbles away as the conversations die and the cold stares begin. Nobody in here is my friend—they all despise me for absolutely nothing. I never did a damned thing to any of them.
I wave awkwardly to nobody in particular, turn away from the glares and help myself to a can of soda. The whispering starts the second I’m not looking at them.
"What’s she doing here?" whispers a girl’s voice that I don’t recognize.
"Isaac invited her," answers Sarah, intentionally speaking loudly enough for me to hear her. "Just between you and me, he’s probably screwing her."
I manage to hold my tongue as I take a long drink of my soda and pretend I didn’t hear her, but my free hand still clenches into a tight fist all the same. I hate Sarah. I fucking hate her. I’ve never even kissed Isaac—how dare she tell anyone that I’m...
"Oh my god, no way!" titters another of Sarah’s awful friends. "Her? Who’d ever want her?"
"Isaac has a great eye for discounts, you see," answers Sarah, digging the knife in deeper and twisting it as I try to ignore her. "I mean, like, if she's already down on her knees scrubbing his floor anyway, why not get a little head while she's at it?"
That does it. I’ve had enough. Isaac’s party or not, I’m going to rip Sarah’s throat out.
Just as I spin around to face Sarah, a woman’s hand clamps tightly onto my shoulder and I nearly leap out of my skin in shock.
"Excuse me," Isaac’s mother says, clearing her throat ang
rily as she spins me around to face her. "One, the food is for guests only, and two, catering is supposed to be in uniform, remember? I don’t pay you to stand out here and stuff your face, missy."
Oh you stupid bitch, I think, and a burning fury rises inside me as Sarah and her vile friends start giggling behind me.
"One, you don’t pay me at all," I fire back, dropping my voice to a low growl, "and two, my name’s Nina, and Isaac invited me as a guteddiv heest, ma’am."
Isaac’s mother blanches and then quickly regains her composure.
"He invited one of you?" she hisses at me.
"There’s only one of me to invite, ma’am," I answer, forcing a smile even though I hate her. "There’s no other Nina like me."
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