by Margot Fox
She resolved this would not be her only moment in this bathroom. She would return. Wishing fervently that she had time for just one quick shower instead, Tesa grabbed the wide-toothed comb from the counter. Before she began, she pointed it at herself.
“Do not screw this up,” she said to her reflection in the huge mirror. “He likes you. I can tell. Do not ruin this.”
Her mother’s words came to her instantly. “Life is short, so gladden the hearts of those who make this dark journey with us. Be swift to love.”
She continued muttering as she struggled the comb through her ratty hair. Parts of it just did not want to budge and she thought more than once of just taking the quickest possible shower. It would comb so easily if it were clean and conditioned, she knew. But then she thought of the alleycat-like vision of herself in the bedroom mirror. A drowned alleycat — how much worse would that be?
After swearing and yanking at her mane for some time, she managed to tame it into what looked halfway-decent, if you didn’t stare too hard. Besides, second-day hair always made the waves in her light-brown locks more manageable and shiny. It looked passably all right, she decided.
The smaller drawer held a toothbrush and selection of pastes. She picked the one that looked the most expensive and scrubbed her teeth and tongue thoroughly. The sensation was fabulous after that ashtray wake-up call.
After a few moments’ consideration, she decided a little mascara would be all right. What could it hurt? No one else appeared to be using it? She could certainly replace it, if he objected. What could it possibly cost, anyway. The most expensive mascara she had ever seen was, what… $80?
Jeez.
She hesitated. A night’s work at the bar for plump eyelashes? Really?
“Girl,” she whispered to the mirror, “you had better know what you are doing!”
She opened the tube and plunged the wand in a few times, then pulled the brushes across her lashes. Well, she had to admit it to herself. It was different. Just like the bedsheets, there was a really big difference between whatever magical black cream was in this mascara tube, and whatever goop was in the one she had gotten on clearance at the dollar store.
When she was done, she stepped back and looked at herself again in the full-length mirror on the other wall. With her hair arranged smoothly and pushed to one side, some color in her cheeks, and noticeably improved eyelashes, she looked presentable.
And with the silk gown falling gracefully over her form, shimmering in the bathroom’s chandelier light, she looked… good.
With a forceful last pointed finger at her reflection — a silent threat to do well — Tesa inhaled deeply, stood up straight, and exited from the bath. After two tries she found the door to the hallway, and she walked as gracefully as she could along middle eastern carpets to the stairs.
At the top of the stairs, she paused, looking around at the foyer below until she saw just the curve of her host’s shoulder in a chair by a window in the adjoining room. She held the banister and padded down the stairs, reassuring herself that she probably wouldn’t fall.
He heard her coming and turned. A smile lit up his face as he looked her over from tip to toe. Tesa couldn’t help grinning in response as she crossed the foyer.
“The gown… it suits you beautifully, Tesa,” he said softly. When he smiled, creases showed at the corners of his eyes and mouth.
“Thank you,” she said sheepishly. What was his name? She wracked her brain frantically and tried not to let it show.
He stood as she entered the room and crossed to the other side of the table, pulling out a plush chair. As she passed him she couldn’t help but notice the way his shirt clung to the muscles in his chest. Why couldn’t she remember that naked? It was probably awesome!
His breath caressed her collarbones just slightly as she crossed in front of him to the chair he was offering. She could feel her heartbeat start to race. The neckline of the gown was very low and she suddenly felt quite exposed, but tried to retain some impression of poise.
He held the chair out for her and waited. Tesa maneuvered in front of it awkwardly, unsure how to sit if a man was pushing the chair. Finally she just plunked down into it and let him slide it under the table. He didn’t seem to notice.
Slipping back into his own seat, he looked at the table apologetically. “I didn’t really know what you wanted,” he said with a charming grimace. “Coffee first?” She nodded enthusiastically. “And there’s eggs, crepes, some fresh berries here if you like…”
Tesa tried not to gape in awe. The table held a week’s worth of food, but better food than she would ever have in a week. Her hand fluttered out to the tray of bacon and sausage first. No, she thought, berries are more ladylike, and ladled a scoop of cherries and blueberries onto her plate.
But the bacon called to her. She eyed it hungrily.
He held out a hand in invitation. “Just eat, Tesa. Don’t be shy.”
That was all she needed to hear. She picked up four pieces of bacon and two rounds of sausage and set them on her plate, then spooned a huge portion of fluffy scrambled eggs next to that and balanced a cheese-filled crepe over the whole arrangement.
He was watching her. She could feel it, but she hardly cared anymore. Picking up the heavy fork, Tesa pieced together a mouthful that was part eggs, part sausage and part crepe. She closed her eyes and put the fork in her mouth, closing her lips as slowly as she could.
It. Was. Amazing.
The salty, buttery, fat-laden flavors exploded on her tongue. She felt her eyes roll back in her head slightly and she moaned. There had never been a breakfast like that in her mouth before, ever.
Losing a sense of where she was, she shoved three more fast mouthfuls in and swallowed. It took all the willpower she had just to chew before swallowing.
She knew she had to slow down or she would be sick. Her stomach was still fairly upset with her. Sighing, she reached for her coffee and caught his eye. He was peering at her intently.
“Is it really that good?” he said.
She nodded. “It’s really pretty awesome,” she said, after clearing her mouth with a gulp of rich, hot coffee. She tried not to grin, but her cheeks were beginning to ache with the effort.
“Well, eat!” he said genially. “You look like you could use it.”
“Oh,” she said, a vision of her scrawny appearance fresh in her mind.
“I didn’t mean anything by that,” he rushed. “You’re beautiful. I mean… You’re really stunning. One of a kind.”
Tesa looked at the napkin in her lap and felt her cheeks growing hot. Was this guy for real? She looked up at him and met his copper-colored eyes. His gaze was steady and direct. He had the square jaw of a fireman, the cheekbones of a movie star. His mouth worked subtly like he was biting the inside of his lip.
Could he remember their night together, if there had even been one? How could she not recall even one moment of it? Those shoulders were certainly worth remembering. If she’d had those lips on hers she would remember it, she was sure.
Just thinking about the prospect of those lips on hers made her belly twinge and call out. She tried not to think about it, but had she been under those shoulders, seen him above her?
She felt herself start to get warm. No, nono… Get a grip!
Finally he spoke. “You don’t remember my name, do you,” he said.
Horror!
“Of course I remember you!” she said, way too loudly.
He chuckled and sat back in his chair, crossing his muscled forearms over his chest.
“It is…” she wracked her brain. The brick wall stayed firmly in place. Think! she commanded herself. Think!
You got dressed, you went to work.
“I’ll give you a moment to think about it,” he said.
Bernie was out… partying or something. She never showed up. That jerk.
“It will come to you.”
The pool league was there, but only half showed up.
&n
bsp; And the music! I changed that and we all sang along...
The front door opened and then closed.
Grant was a no-show too. Not a terrible loss. I was just closing up when two men came in.
Sounds in the hallway, footsteps.
“Ummm,” she said. “Wait…”
Just one at first, and he seemed nice, then the second one ordered something weird… Tequila on the rocks. Paid in great wads of cash. One said his name was…
“Stark?” she said uncertainly.
He nodded, clearly pleased. Maybe relieved.
The footsteps receded.
Little scraps of memory flickered across her mind. Every time she tried to catch one it seemed to dissolve in her grasp. Tiny conversation pieces, songs on the jukebox. They started buying her drinks. Tequila tastes wonderful, even better if you don’t drink it like a college kid. She hadn’t eaten all day, and her head got swimmy in no time.
Stark and — what was the other one called? Didn’t matter. They looked like magazine models. She probably could have charged them $20 a drink and they wouldn’t have cared. They just peeled bills off and left them in a pile on the bar.
“Stark,” she said again, proud she had a fact so firmly in hand. He nodded.
“And you’re Tesa Geere,” he said definitively.
“Is Stark your last name or first name?”
He just laughed. “Tesa, you are something else,” he murmured with a twinkle in his eyes.
She chuckled too, sighing, leaning back in the plush chair. She loved watching his eyes roam over her body every time she moved. She felt her nipples harden inside the white silk and saw his mouth curl in a small smile. Sitting up a little taller, she looked out the window so he could stare all he wanted without thinking she was looking.
“You seem different,” she observed.
“Do I?”
She turned to meet his eyes, searching his expression for a connection. Though she felt like the circuit wasn’t quite complete, it was still a pleasure to be in his presence. Something didn’t quite match up, but that would probably change in time.
“Yes,” she continued. “You’re smiling a lot more.”
He raised his eyebrows and nodded, almost seeming to be laughing at some private joke.
“Well, I suppose you could say it was a pleasure… a relief , even, to finally meet with you.”
Tesa bit back a smile. When was the last time anyone had been so nice to her? So transparently charming? She arched her back and stared out the window, barely stopping herself from purring like a cat.
Staring out the window, Tesa tried to breathe slowly and calmly and take in the details. The lawn was manicured like a golf course. It stretched out down a long hill to trees, far below. The turf was dense and perfect, like a golf course.
She wasn’t that familiar with the semi-rural area away from the bar, but she was pretty sure they were nowhere near Grant’s neighborhood.
“You have a lovely home,” she smiled, turning back to him. He stared at her pleasantly. “That was… delicious. Amazing. Will, um… My clothes?”
He raised his eyebrows. “Pardon?”
“It’s just…” She shifted in her seat, trying to be ready to stand and leave the room. “Well, I do have to get to work, probably. I mean, I don’t even know what time it is. Haha. But probably… soon, anyway. So, um, will my clothes be ready? Or whatever?”
Stark leaned forward and put his elbows on the table. He folded his fingers together, and Tesa was pleased to remember this gesture. Maybe her brain fog was clearing out.
“Why don’t you just stay here?” he suggested, his voice as smooth as cream.
Tesa smiled broadly and laughed. She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks.
Is this really happening? she wondered. Have I finally not screwed up everything, more or less immediately?
“Oh my gosh, that is amazing of you to say,” she breathed. “I would love to, really. Maybe, uh… Maybe we could see each other again? Sometime?”
“I would love that,” he said.
“So,” she said, rising from her chair, “I could just… get ready then?”
“Well, perhaps not...” he said slowly. “Not just yet.”
“What?” She shook her head, confused. “Well, I could maybe borrow something else? If my clothes are… unavailable or whatever?”
Stark stood and walked to where she was. Tesa gulped and looked up at him. He reached out and brushed the smooth silk strap of her gown at the top of her shoulder, slipping a finger underneath it. His long lashes shadowed his eyes. His hand ran down the length of her arm and he picked up her hand, turning it over gently to expose her newly branded wrist. She flinched slightly at the twinge of irritation in her raw skin.
“Just stay, Tesa, please?” he said in a quiet voice.
Tesa felt her heart pounding in her chest. She could hear her breath, so loud. She wanted to say yes, and see what the day would bring. Jolie was right - the badge really did seem to be alluring to him.
Her back arched toward him. She could vividly feel his skin against hers, and the sensation was electric. She felt shivers racing across her chest and arms.
“Aw, come on, Tesa,” came a low, sudden voice from the doorway, “just say yes.”
Tesa stumbled backward, instantly embarrassed. Stark turned around and made a gesture she couldn’t see. A taller version of Stark stood, leaning on the door frame. He had his arms folded across his chest and a boot hoisted up on the ornate baseboard.
“You’re going to say yes anyway,” he drawled, walking closer. “You know you are.”
She thought she remembered him. He was a great tipper. He had a great smile. A little cocky, maybe?
Oh yeah, she remembered with clarity. The douche.
“Gunner?” Tesa said, the irritation leaching into her voice.
“That’s right! You’re good,” he grinned. “Tell her what she’s won, brother.”
Tesa crossed her arms. “Stark? What’s going on?”
Stark smiled apologetically. “Gunner’s just being funny. You are good, though. He meant it,” he assured her.
Tesa nodded. “Okay, well thanks! So… my clothes?”
“Well,” Stark began.
“No.” Gunner finished.
Tesa looked from man to man. Brothers? Yes, they definitely had a resemblance, and she could sort of remember that discussion from somewhere in the tequila-colored haze that was almost like a memory of the night before. Almost, but not quite.
In any case, she could definitely remember very much disliking Gunner, at least as much as she liked Stark. Gunner was smug and sarcastic and prone to cutting her off. He also seemed intent on interfering with whatever attraction was going on between her and his brother.
She straightened, crossing her arms over her chest and trying not to notice how very undressed she was at the moment.
“Well, you know what, I think I’ll just wear... this. Or something. Thank you for a really great breakfast. I hope I see you again sometime,” she said to Stark, dismissing Gunner, and stalked toward the foyer.
Tesa crossed the entryway as quickly as she could and took the first few stairs at a fast pace, steadying herself with the banister. What sort of sick game did they think they were up to?
She rushed down the upstairs hallway and tried a couple doors before finding the room she had slept in. She burst through and reached for the outfit she had selected that was still on the bed.
Stark caught her wrist and held it firm before she could reach it, somehow appearing right beside her. Tesa jumped with surprise, gaping at him. She wanted to be furious, but something about those eyes made her believe there had to be a logical explanation.
“Tell me what the hell is going on,” she said as firmly as she could. “Or I am leaving. Right. Now.”
Stark pressed his lips together apologetically and made the tiniest shake of his head.
“Oh, you’re not leaving,” Gunner sang from the do
orway. Tesa ignored him.
“Stark!” she pleaded, searching his eyes. His grip was firm and encircled her entire wrist, but seemed deliberately gentle over the sore parts. She wriggled in the vise-like grasp and whimpered, despite herself.
“You’re… you’re hurting me.”
Instantly he released her, and she cradled her wrist in her other hand. The badge implant throbbed painfully, seeping tiny beads of blood around its perimeter.
He furrowed his brow. “I apologize,” he said through gritted teeth, casting his eyes away. “I— I’m sorry.”
She stared at him, confused. Who was this guy? One minute he was calm as a statue, the next he was kind and clearly attracted to her, and then the next, he was on the verge of snapping her wrist. Did he have a personality disorder or what?
“Okay, fine. Whatever… I just need to leave. Right now.”
Stark shook his head slowly, casting his eyes toward his brother. Tesa refused to look at Gunner, afraid she would claw his eyes out if she had to see that smug grin on his face.
“Your wrist. Is it all right?” Stark asked, his voice tight with something like pain or restraint.
“I don’t know,” she stammered, gingerly pressing her fingertips against the slightly warm flesh. Nothing was broken, not anything like that. It was just the same irritation she’d had, made a little worse. “Yes? I think so?”
“And you’ve only just gotten it?”
“What, the badge? Yes,” she replied, the irritation beginning to show. “Why are you asking me? I don’t—”
“— and you haven’t…”
“And I haven’t what? Wait… what? ” she said, aghast. “Of course not!”
“Yeah, right,” Gunner sneered from across the room. “Alleycats.”
“Screw you!” she yelled back, suddenly infuriated. She couldn’t believe what they were implying. She held up her arm, just barely resisting the urge to flip him off at the same time. The badge was clear, sky blue just like the day she got it.
“I don’t hang with junkies. IV drug users… or vampires or whatever you’re implying,” she snarled, barely controlling her temper. “I don’t sleep with vampires… And I certainly don’t feed… oh!” The nausea was instantly back. “Oh no!”