by V. H. Luis
“Stop it!” I yell, exasperated.
Tina is trying to protect me, like always. But the truth is, I am sick and tired of being protected. For the first time in years I feel brave, and I know it’s because of him. Adam makes me believe that second chances are not only found in fairytales.
“Look, I’m not in the mood for a lecture. I’m spending time with a man I really like, and this is not something that merits an apology.” I rub my eyes and my hands slap my legs as they fall. I’m so exhausted they’re too heavy to hold up. Of course I’m tired; I spent the night doing other things…not sleeping.
My mother is speechless. Yes, in the last few years I’ve allowed her to make serious decisions for me. I’ve been a lump of clay and she has molded me as best she could. However, today I’m more myself than I have been in the last few years. I won’t let her put the brakes on my life anymore.
“You’re acting strange. I think we need to call your therapist.”
“I spoke with her recently. She’s of the opinion that I should explore this relationship.”
“I doubt she meant you should sleep with him.”
“Mom…” I take a deep breath to measure my tone because I want her to understand me. “I don’t think it matters what she meant. The only thing that matters is my happiness, because this is my life.” I shake my head. “He makes me smile. Do you know I never smile?”
“You smile all the time.”
“No, you see half-hearted attempts.”
For the first time in ages, my mother really looks at me and it’s as if she can see the pain I’m harboring, the pain I try to bury. Her eyes widen and she appears as if she just got the answer to a difficult math equation. “You’re happy about this relationship?”
“Yes.” I give her the reassurance she needs, even though I’m not certain what I’m feeling, because I need her to trust me. I need my mother to believe that if Adam and I fall apart, I’ll be okay.
She steps forward, wrapping her arms around me in a tight hug. “Well, tell me about him.”
I squeeze her softly and stare at Tina, whose bewildered expression mirrors mine. My mother is rarely this affectionate with me.
After a long pause, she pulls away from me, moves toward the couch and dusts off a spot with her hand before sitting. “What is this mystery man’s name?”
I begin organizing the room as I speak. It’s both a result of my growing anxiety and a defense mechanism. If I’m busy working on something, my mother won’t be able to gauge my reactions.
“His name is Adam Black. He works in real estate.”
“Adam Black, the founder of the Eden Corporation?” She arches a brow in disbelief.
Gee, thanks, Mom. It’s not like my confidence isn’t already in choppy waters. I nod as I move some glasses to the kitchen sink, needing the added distance.
“Yes, Mom, that Adam Black.”
“If you drive down Biscayne you’ll see his name all over billboards. I mean, Evelyn, he owns properties all over South Florida, all over the East Coast. If there’s a piece of land in Miami, he’s developing it… How in the world did you two meet?”
“At the bank, the day of the hold-up. He was there making a transaction.”
“And now is when I’m hearing about this?” My mother glares at me, an annoyed expression on her face.
“It slipped my mind. I’m sorry,” I say reflexively, but I don’t mean it.
“Men like that expect women to act a certain way, dress a certain way.”
She straightens in her seat, her eyes narrowed in disapproval as she assesses my cut-off shorts.
“You were with him wearing that?”
She doesn’t give me time to respond.
“We need to go shopping. I’m sure we can find a few outfits that will look lovely on you. If you plan on dating a man like Adam Black, you need to dress a certain way.”
I was wondering how long it would take her to suggest shopping. If my mom could, she’d live in the mall. I shake my head. “I can’t make it to the mall today. As you can see, my house is a mess; I need to clean up. Besides, he doesn’t seem too concerned with what I wear.”
My mother’s expression hardens and she opens her mouth to respond when she’s cut short by the ringing of her cellphone. “Hello?” She pauses for a few seconds. “Already?” She stands. “Okay, give me a few minutes and I’ll go outside.”
“Nicholas is here, I need to go,” she says while cramming the phone into her purse.
Yes, saved by my darling stepfather. “You have to go so soon?” I try my best to sound sad about it.
“I don’t know how to feel about any of this,” she says, obviously not ready to end the conversation. “I don’t know if you seeing this man is a good idea, and I think I should meet—”
“No.” My stern interjection makes her eyes twitch with start. “I won’t have you talking to him and cautioning him. I won’t have you dictating what I will and won’t do with my life.”
“You’re getting agitated, and I think—”
Again I interrupt her. “I haven’t hurt myself, and I won’t.” I step into the living room, lift my shorts, and point to my thighs. Then I arch my neck and brush my hair to the side, revealing my nape.
Tina and my mother just stare at me in silence as I continue to show them the many places on my body I used to conceal cuts on—cuts I gave myself for years—cuts they never knew about until the pressure was too great to contain.
“Just because you haven’t yet doesn’t mean that you won’t,” my mother yells.
“And just because you micromanage my life doesn’t mean that I won’t!” I counter.
The silence that surrounds the room is suffocating. Again, my mother’s phone rings. Sighing heavily, she walks over to Tina and gives her a hug.
“Bye, Mrs. Aaron,” Tina murmurs.
My mother whispers something to Tina. She eyes me as she does and I try in vain not to feel insulted; she’s no doubt telling her to watch over me. Tina nods. My mother walks over and embraces me. I say nothing—I don’t move. She leaves and as the door closes behind her I shift my gaze to Tina.
“I didn’t call her,” she quickly says.
“Why did she come?”
“She’s worried about you. We both are.”
“Well, stop!” I shout because this conversation is tiresome.
“Okay, don’t get so upset. Maybe if you would’ve told me ahead of time what you planned on doing, I could have covered for you.”
“I don’t need you to cover for me. I’m twenty-four years old. I can sleep with whoever the hell I want.”
“Stop taking out your anger on me!” Tina raises her voice to counter mine.
I place one of my hands against my head. “Let’s drop it…I don’t want to fight.”
Tina has her arms crossed over her chest. She still looks angry, though my words have curbed her fury. “Well, are you going to tell me what happened?”
“What exactly is there to say? We slept together.”
“I want every last detail,” she says shamelessly.
We stare at each other for a long minute and in perfect unison we burst out laughing. I flop on the couch and for the next hour I recount the events of my steamy night with Adam.
“Did he say when he would call?” Tina asks.
I shake my head. “He just said sometime later.”
“And you’re okay with that?”
My laugh is touched with bitterness. “Of course I’m not okay with that. I want him to call me now. But I’m not going to pout about not getting my way.” I lean against one of the pillows. “I understand that in sleeping with him, I may have lost the only card I had to play.” I shrug at the thought. “But I wanted to do it and I don’t regret it.”
Tina has a grin on her lips. “I’ve never seen you so… Carefree.”
“Is that your nice way of saying I’m being a promiscuous little tart?” I’m amused by her expression.
“Because you
slept with a guy for the first time when you were twenty-four? If you’re promiscuous, I can only imagine what I must be.” She pauses. “Did he you know, make you…”
I feign innocence, even though it’s obvious what she’s referring to. “Did he make me what?”
Tina rolls her eyes and her unflinching nature takes hold. “Did he make you come?”
Smirking at her, I give a slow nod. “Multiple times. I’ve been missing out.”
“I’m so jealous. I spent my Friday night with Daniel and Michael.”
“I gather they didn’t make you come?” I say jokingly.
Daniel and Michael, whose names are uttered as a pair because they are never without the other, are our two very gay friends from college.
“You’re so funny. I was a third wheel.”
“What happened with Dean? I thought it was pretty hot and heavy between you two for a while.”
“He’s an irritating ass who can’t keep it in his pants.” Tina rubs her forehead with the back of her hand, and although she is trying hard to stop the tears from falling, they do.
I lean in and hug her. It’s unnerving to be in this situation, because it’s new to me. Tina is always the one comforting me.
“What happened?’ I whisper.
“The bastard slept with someone else. He didn’t even have the smarts to toss the condom out. He just left it lying on the floor. What a fucking idiot.” Her watery eyes focus on mine. “I honestly didn’t even like him much. But why would he cheat? I mean, grow a pair and own up to not wanting to be with someone.”
“When did you find out?” My mouth is dry. Did this happen while I was with Adam? I guess I’m not winning any friend-of-the-year awards.
“It happened last night, but I’m fine.” Tina rubs her eyes and gives me a brave smile. “Daniel and Michael helped me burn all of his shit. He’s lucky I didn’t set him on fire.”
I kiss Tina’s cheek and she pulls back in surprise. “Don’t ever get that angry at me, please.”
“I don’t know, Evie. You certainly try my patience pretty often,” she says with mock seriousness.
We both laugh. Sitting there with my best friend, discussing the ups and downs of our lives makes me feel so normal, so content. And yet, even in the wake of my happiness a somber thought infiltrates my mind—if Tina, who has tried to find love numerous times, has been denied her happily-ever-after, why should destiny be kinder to me?
TINA has left and I’ve been busy cleaning the disaster zone that is my house. For the first time in years I’m embarrassed to be living in clutter. The music is cranked up and my iPod shuffles to Usher’s “Scream”. I grin because Adam pops into my head. How the hell does the man get me hot and bothered when he’s not even here?
I hop on the couch and eye my phone. Why hasn’t he called? The nagging fear I’ve been suppressing all day is making its way to the surface. Stop thinking about this. I stand, determined to heed my own advice.
Thirty minutes later, my kitchen is spotless and the iPod Shuffle is now playing Mika’s “Relax”. I roll my eyes because I can’t. I’m wiping the counter for the third time in a row, when I see my cell flashing on the coffee table. It’s him!
I dart toward the living room, rushing to get the call before it goes to voicemail and stub my toe against the kitchen peninsula. “Shit!” I grab the phone and utter a flustered, “Hello?”
“Evelyn?”
His calm, deep voice makes my already racing heart throb wildly.
“Hey,” I say breathily.
“Are you okay?”
“I stubbed my toe reaching for the phone.” Why would you confess that, you graceless idiot? I stifle a groan.
His chuckle vibrates against my ear. “I’m sorry I’m not there. I would kiss it better.”
Adam Black kissing my toe? The idea has promise.
“How was your day?”
“Good, and yours?”
“I’ve spent the afternoon trying to convince an infuriating man that selling me his property was in his best interest.”
I grin at the thought. “I’m sure you were successful. I can attest to the fact that you’re very convincing.”
He laughs. “What are you doing tomorrow?”
I blink at the shift in topic. “I’m not doing anything in particular.”
“You are now.” That decisive tone reverberates against the receiver. “Be ready by noon.”
“Ready for what?” I’m annoyed, because I hate how he states what I will and will not do. As if I have no options and must comply with his decrees. He doesn’t own me.
Are you sure about that?
Adam’s interrupts my internal argument, his tone clipped. “It’s a surprise.”
“You don’t like it when I question you.”
“No one appreciates being questioned,” he says pointedly. “Since you obviously need to be convinced, I will inform you that it has to do with your gift. The one you agreed to accept, no questions asked.”
I frown because he’s right, as usual. “Okay, I’ll be ready at noon.”
“Sleep well.”
I want to tell him not to hang up, to please keep talking, because I miss him. However, every phrase that comes to mind sounds desperate and clingy. I don’t want to be perceived as some insecure girl who is growing dependent on his touch, on his presence. Am I becoming that girl?
My mind shifts back into gear. “Sleep well, Adam; I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Our conversation is over too soon. I’m hopelessly falling for this guy and he probably thinks of me as a pleasant distraction. I toss the phone on the couch and walk to my room. I’m alone and the thought is draining. In minutes I fall asleep, unwilling to dwell on concerns that I’m obviously not ready to face.
IT’S five minutes to noon and I’m sitting on my couch waiting for Adam, wearing a burgundy dress with simple black heels. The sharp knock at the door startles me.
I open the door and to my shock, Adam is not the person standing on the other side.
“Parker?” I can’t hide my disappointment.
“Hello, Miss Snowe. Shall we?”
His tone is matter-of-fact.
I walk behind him, and as we come to the black Escalade he dutifully ushers me inside. His actions are always respectful. Why do I find him aggravating? Oh, that’s right…it’s his total lack of personality.
He enters the SUV, and after a few moments of silence I can no longer contain my curiosity. “Parker, where is Adam?”
“Mr. Black is busy with business.”
The lackluster response makes me frown. Why would Parker pick me up if Adam is busy?
“Will he be meeting us somewhere?”
“I’m not sure, Miss Snowe. I was only directed to take you to the location.”
I roll my eyes. “Am I allowed to know our destination?”
“Bal Harbour Shops.”
“What? Why are we going to a mall?” I hate malls. I worked in one for a few years. They’re busy and loud.
Parker takes out an envelope and hands it to me, his eyes never wavering from the road. “This should explain everything.” His tone indicates the conversation is now over.
“Thanks,” I mutter while eyeing the letter. It’s addressed to me and written in fine script.
Dear Evelyn,
I’m sure by now you’re fidgeting in your seat wondering where exactly you’re going, and most importantly, why. Since you refuse to accept the payment for your mural, which is rightfully yours, I have decided on a gift I believe you might enjoy.
Currently, you are en route to Bal Harbour Mall. I have left explicit instructions for the sales attendants. You are to buy several outfits, at my expense. I look forward to watching you try on the outfits purchased, but more than anything, I can’t wait to take them off you.
Remember, you agreed to accept this gift without question. Don’t overthink everything; that’s a bad habit you possess. Try to have fun and I will see you later.
A
dam
Are you kidding me? He’s gifting me a shopping spree. What a wonderful way not to flaunt his money at me.
I read the letter again and one sentence stands out. He wants to see me try on the clothing…and he wants to take them off me. The idea of Adam watching as I try on clothing makes me shiver.
“Are you cold? I could raise the temperature.”
Parker says, startling me. I gulp once and manage to find my voice. “I…um…am a bit chilly, yes. Thank you.” Damn it, Evelyn. Stop thinking about Adam and get ahold of yourself.
We drive the rest of the way in silence while I contemplate my current situation.
Adam consumes me. My thoughts are constantly of him, of the way he effortlessly dictates my actions. My body responds to his touch in a primal way and I’m not sure if I’m finding or losing myself.
I’m conflicted. I don’t want the clothing, because spending his money makes me feel cheap. And yet the idea of his control makes me feel alive. I want it—I want him.
Then the questions hit like a sudden hailstorm. What does he want from me? Why does he offer me such overwhelming gifts? Do I mean something to him?
Adam’s the type of man who gets his way. I refused the money so he gave me a shopping spree. He must have known I would hate being in this situation. When I see him today I’m going to make sure he understands I won’t tolerate his domineering ways. Even as I think the words, I know I only possess such bravery within the confines of my own mind. How can I deny him? Should I even try?
The black Escalade pulls up to the mall and we stop in front of the entrance to Neiman Marcus.
“They’re waiting for you, Miss Snowe.”
I offer Parker a halfhearted smile while stepping out of the SUV. Upon entering the store, I’m greeted by three well-dressed women. The person I assume is the ringleader of this trio greets me.
“Hello, Miss Snowe?”
I nod as I consider walking out. Before I can make my escape, she speaks. “I’m Marian Carter. I’ll be assisting you today. Mr. Black has left instructions about the type of clothing we should consider.”
I bet he has. I bet Mr. Controlling has left a bulleted list of what we can and can’t do. I nod politely at her. “Oh. What type of clothing should we consider?”