by S. J. Blaze
“You like that store, huh?”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“The bracelet you gave me, the one you won’t let me return, was from Cartier, too.”
“Yes, that’s true. Why aren’t you wearing it?”
“Are you kidding, it’s huge and terribly gauche.”
“Gauche? What about that snake you always wear…that thing is gauche!”
“Hey, don’t hate on Sussurro.”
“Who?”
“The snake thing…that’s her name.”
“Do you name everything? First your bike and now this Susisu?”
“Sussurro…it means whisper in Portuguese. I had her commissioned two years ago. She was made to my exact requirements. She’s unlike any piece of jewelry you’ve seen.”
“Well don’t stop now, love. Tell me about your whispering snake charmer.”
“Since you asked, she’s precisely twelve inches long and is made of a specialized magnesium alloy that’s as light as aluminum but as strong as titanium. Her tail is sharp and her head is shaped into a snake, the eyes ruby, and when you depress down on the two fangs, the individual vertebrae in her spine become lax. I can then lock her into another shape, as a necklace or even a straight line.” She has many talents. Many useful skills. And like me, her looks are deceiving.
He looks pensive. “She’s a weapon….” I don’t say anything.
“Why do you need a weapon, love?”
Again, I remain silent.
“Is this why you fight?”
I can see the wheels spinning. Coen is processing. He swallows audibly.
“Does this have to do with the jagged scar?”
“Mother is waiting for me…” He nods in frustration but quickly hides it as he stands up and takes my hand. He kisses the new ring addition, his icy eyes locking in on my greys, searching again.
He keeps my hand in his on the ride down the elevator and across to the spa.
“I thought you’d never get here, really Charlie. I thought I raised you better!” Mother immediately greets us.
Coen stiffens and his voice becomes domineering. “It was my fault, Delilah. I’ll hand her over for now, but please take good care of her.” He quickly peeks to the side and I follow to see Davis walking towards us. I guess Davis is like an Amex card, Coen never leaves home without him.
“Delilah, this is Davis. I’m having him watch over Charlie. I’d greatly appreciate it if you’d accommodate my wishes and allow him access to her. I’m rather protective of my girl,” he states and gives mother a grave look.
“Of course, Coen. I assure you, she’s always safe with us.”
“Really, because left in the care of her sister last night she was later abandoned while intoxicated. Forgive me if I take extra precautions.” He looks upset. I’m glad I’m not on the receiving end of mad Coen…well, at least in this moment. I’ll probably end up there at a later time.
“Right, of course. Come now, Charlie, we don’t want to keep anyone waiting.” She smiles briefly at Coen and then walks inside the spa center, assuming I’ll follow.
I gaze up at Coen and smile so brightly that my cheeks hurt. “You’re my hero!”
His smile doesn’t exactly match mine, but it’s there. “I’ll be upstairs.” He runs both hands through my hair and cups my cheek. He stares into my eyes, his beautiful blues grasping my gregarious greys. “Don’t take any of their shit. You’re smarter, kinder, and the sexiest little thing I’ve ever seen.” He pushes his forehead to mine and then kisses me softly on the lips.
He pulls back and then comes in for one more kiss. “I’ll see you at the wedding, love. I’ll be the sexy fiancée watching your every move.” He winks. “Be good.” One more sweet kiss, he nods to Davis, and then walks away. I guess watching him walk away is a new hobby of mine.
Chapter Fifteen
If this woman continues pinching my chin, I won’t be held accountable for my actions. Damn that hurts. She keeps digging in as she applies god only knows what to my face. I’ve been sitting in this chair for a solid ten minutes getting shellacked and I swear my head feels five pounds heavier. Is that even possible?
“You have good skin. But your eyelids are a bit small.” The makeup artist mother has hired to fix all the bridesmaids says in her thick Puerto Rican accent.
Mother jumps in, ready to dodge any type of compliment my way. “Yes, her skin is clear, she gets that from me, but those freckles are a disaster. Please make sure to cover them completely. I know there isn’t much you can do with that obnoxious mole, but see if you can at least lighten it.”
Twenty-three hours and fifty-six minutes. I can hold it together for the next twenty-three hours and, oh look, fifty-five minutes. Yes, one down and one thousand fifty-five to go. It’s like I’m practically home, now. Not.
I hear my sister and her friends talking in the other room. I’m the last to finish makeup, naturally, so they’re already getting dressed and passing out champagne. I guess my sister needs to be intoxicated to walk down the aisle. Not that I can really blame her, Gene isn’t what I’d call drool worthy.
Allegedly, they didn’t realize that I was no longer with the group when they left City Walk. At least that’s what mother claims. Speaking of mother, she’s back hovering over me. She and Joelle were first to dress, so I’m guessing she’s bored.
“Charlie, why didn’t you mention that you were engaged? You’d think I’d be the first to know though I suppose he seems like a charming enough man. What does Coen do, again?” She asks while analyzing the ring Coen placed on my finger only a few hours ago.
She’s fishing but this is mother and if I don’t give her something she will never leave me alone. “It was Jo’s weekend and I didn’t want to steal the limelight. Coen’s the current CFO to Collins Corp.”
“Collins Corp…” She’s tasting it. Feeling it out. “He seems a bit old for you. I’m not sure if I approve. He didn’t even ask your father for your hand.” She huffs. This isn’t going well, and I can see she’s prepping for a verbal lashing. I sink in the chair to better ground myself.
“You just show up, drunk I might add, in the arms of a complete stranger. I was so embarrassed. And…and…you promised you’d keep your tattoo hidden. But no, it was on full display for everyone to see that god-awful monstrosity. Including the family! And don’t even get me started on your clothing. I mean really, Charlie, those leather shorts were too short…and knee high boots? You looked like a street walker. Do you want to work on OBT or the Sunset Strip? Is that the look you’re going for?” She fans herself with a hand trying to cool down before she melts away. I’m melting, I’m melting.
“You demanded that I change. I grabbed what I had and got downstairs before they took off without me. I swear to all things holy, I can never make you happy. Mother, go bother your real daughter and let me finish my painting in relative peace.”
She gasps and walks away with an, “I never!”
Sadly, it’s me that never’s. I never talk back. I never stand up for myself. And I almost never get what I want.
So…never, never, never. So there. Yeah.
After the makeup torture concluded, I’m squeezed into my dress; amaranth pink in Mikado silk encrusted with contrasting black lace. It’s surprisingly short for a bridesmaid dress, more like a cocktail dress, but with the bateau neckline I could easily wear this dress again, and hopefully, I will. But it’s the hat that throws it. A hat? Yes, a hat. A big mad hatter hat, with a gigantic bow in the front dressed in the same shade of pink.
I would feel like the only one at a tea party, except all eight of the bridesmaids have to wear it. My sister is in a sleeveless traditional white gown that flows all the way to the floor with little embellishments. She has a matching neckline as ours, so maybe that’s why she chose it. But no hat for her. Maybe she is secretly mad and looking for a tea party so she can be the white rabbit.
I know I certainly feel like Alice.
I think even Lew
is Carroll would agree that everyone is indeed mad here.
The procession gets underway without a snag. I can see my parents under the chuppa next to my sister. They look so happy. Mother is crying while Abba stands stoic and proud. I shouldn’t have snapped earlier. The last nine months of planning and stressing has culminated into this very moment. Maybe I should have been more understanding. Mother looks positively peaceful. I think she may even be glowing.
I’m always at a loss when it comes to interactions with my family. Like a little girl, I still strive to please them. A task I will never succeed in. Riddled with guilt and confusion, I fight the falling tears. But they’re victorious.
Hoping to distract myself and gain the grounding that I again need, I scan the crowd hoping to find those gorgeous glacial eyes. I locate him instantly, and sure enough he’s watching me. When he notices, his brows raise in flirtatious questioning. I can’t help but send him an enthusiastic, though wet, smile. The man looks positively adorable in a kippah.
With the ceremony over, the reception begins. We are seated at one of the three tables reserved for the bridal party. My parents were kind enough to add Coen to the table, so he’s seated next to me. Much to the joy of Joelle’s head cheerleader and maid of honor, Kiki. She keeps leaning over and flaunting her tits hoping to catch Coen’s attention.
“Coen, I just read an article about you last month in the Post. I heard you were approached to do some acting or was it modeling.” She giggles while licking her lips and eyeing him up and down.
He clears his throat looking uncomfortable. I feel the need to intervene and squash poor cheer girl’s libido thumping heart. “Well, my poor fiancée has so much on his plate right now, that he hasn’t had time to fully weigh the options. But don’t worry…” I lean over Coen and whisper conspiringly. “I’ve made sure to keep his endurance up.” I wink.
He chuckles, then asks me to dance. Though this is the second time I’ve danced in this man’s arms, I feel more relaxed this time. Maybe it’s because I’m engaged. Ha. That’s funny, being engaged to a guy that I’ve never even dated. We should probably fix that.
I lean my head back. “You know, my darling fiancée, you’ve yet to take me on a proper date. I’m thinking I should have given this engagement more thought.” I’m laughing. I know this engagement isn’t real and I’ll return his ring once we get home, but, as long as I’m here…
His lips pucker in thought as his nose scrunches up. Adorable. His eyes spark as he responds.
“So true, the future Mrs. Collins. Please allow me to remedy the situation upon our Boston arrival.” He leans down and kisses my nose.
I pretend to think it over. This game is fun. “Hhhmmm, I don’t know. You’re really not that enjoyable in Boston. I think I prefer Orlando Coen. Maybe we should stay here for a few more days?”
“Ahh, I wish. I have a meeting first thing tomorrow morning. Perhaps we can come back one day soon.”
To that I chuckle loudly. There’s no way I’ll be stepping foot in this state for at least another three years.
“Are you flying commercial?”
He chortles. “Love, when you have as much money as I do, you don’t fly commercial. If you’d like I can send the plane back for you.”
“Actually Mr. Collins, I do…and I don’t.”
“What do you mean?”
“Didn’t you do a background check on me?” I certainly did on him.
“The company did. It’s standard practice when working with an outside partner on something of this magnitude, but I never reviewed it. I hoped I’d get to know you outside of what’s on any paper.” He winks. Yeah, I know exactly what he was hoping to get to know. “What are you implying?”
“Nothing, never mind.” I’m embarrassed now.
“No, no, no love. You’ve piqued my curiosity. Something you’re extremely good at.” He pulls me tighter to him, my neck now craning north. He pops another kiss on my nose.
“I’ve made several good investments, that’s all.” I shrug, like that’s all there is. On paper, he’s worth more than me…
His returning shrug tells me that he’s dropped the subject, and the way his eyes brighten, I wonder what he’s picked up.
His fingers lightly caress the shell of my ear and continue a path across my cheeks. My eyes remain on his. The awkward hat is tilted on my head and is ensconced in thirty-seven thousand pins to hold in place; poor Coen has some obstacles in his path if he’s trying to get close.
He closes his eyes and learns forward, breathing softly against my face. “I’ve missed you so much, love. What have you done to me?”
I lick my lips and sigh. He opens his eyes and they are blazing. Pure raw fire. It ignites me. I tilt up and taste his sweet lips. Barely opening my lips, I feel his tongue probe for more. I want to give him more. I want to be lost in this moment. I want to pretend I’m kissing my fiancée and he loves me with every breath. I want to be his world.
I don’t want to think about the girls that hunt him down. The girls he plays with in his office on lunch breaks and coffee breaks, and who knows, maybe cigarette breaks. I don’t want to think I’m just a little toy to occupy his time, while the merger settles. I don’t want to think of how I may never see him again after the ink has dried in two weeks, and my part with CC is over. I don’t want to think about how scared I am that every time I’m with him, he takes more of me.
I pull away from the kiss and press myself against him. I bite my lip hard trying to redirect all the pain in my mind and heart. I shake my head. Always such a silly girl. A weak silly girl.
“Charlie…” He’s trying to get me to look at him. “Please love, let me see those gorgeous greys.”
I squint my eyes a few times in the hopes of drying them out, and I pull back smiling.
“What’s going on here?” he asks while his thumb rubs the crease in my brow. I can never get anything by this man.
“Just a busy weekend, that’s all. Looking forward to getting home.”
He nods but he doesn’t buy my story.
The speeches begin and we take our seats. Next the cake, a boatload of pictures, and the night eventually comes to a close.
Despite a lack of an invitation, I’m glad Coen is here. I fed off of his strength. He made the mad hatter wedding more bearable. And by the end of the evening, both my parents were putty in his hands. He is a charmer.
Since he moved all of my belongings to his room or is it rooms, I end up staying the night with him. Getting out of the dress is a cinch since there’s just a zipper, but I can’t seem to take the damn hat off. I need extra hands. When Coen sees my mad hatter predicament, he volunteers. You would think he is scrubbing in for surgery, the way he sets me in a chair in front of the mirror and begins to meticulously remove each of the thirty-seven thousand pins. I should have recorded it. Half of the time his tongue was hanging out the side of his mouth. You could see the strenuous thought he put into this challenge as he mapped out each bobby pin as if it were a Jenga set ready to topple over.
I melt a little more.
Now we are both lying in bed, flat on our backs. I’m freshly showered and pounds lighter, in a “Keep Calm and Read On” tee and matching shorts with little books on it. He’s shirtless, wearing only his briefs. What kind, no clue as I tried with every ounce of restraint to not stare in that general area.
“I don’t like you being so far away.” He reaches over and pulls me towards him. I swear, I’m like his personal ragdoll. He positions me with my head on his chest and my arm over his stomach. I immediately stiffen up.
“This is our first night together,” I whisper.
“No, love, it’s our third. Try to relax and go to sleep.”
“Ummm, both times I blacked out. I’m not sure if that counts. I’m a terrible sleeper. Let me get my pills.” I attempt to get up but he twists and is suddenly on top of me.
“Why do you need pills?” He’s still hunting.
“I have sleep issues.
”
“Charlie…” He’s giving me that look. The one parents give their children when they know they’re lying.
“I...uh…I sort of suffer from PTSD.”
I watch as his Adam’s apple bobs, his eyes hard and etched into mine. He shuffles down so his eyes have a direct line. His body is completely cocooning me. This is both terrifying and exhilarating. He’s still searching and I’m trying desperately to hold onto reality. This is Coen. This is now. I am strong. I can get out of this if I want to. He won’t hurt me. He can’t hurt me.
He sees my distress and pulls back, leaning on his elbows beside my shoulders. “Are you a virgin?” he asks tilting his head.
I hesitantly shake my head back and forth. Is that why he wanted me?
His fingers create dizzying patterns on my cheeks and neck. He’s trying to relax me while he continues his own search. He should know by now that I won’t be found until I’m ready. And that day may never come. I was stolen and lost long ago.
“Coen, I need my pills, please,” I whisper into his warm hand.
“Where are they? I’ll get them for you?”
“Bathroom.” I sigh in relief.
He climbs off of me, and despite missing his electric warmth, I can finally take a full breath. This man is intoxicating. His enchantment is insurmountable.
After taking the magical tablets, we assume the original position.
It takes some time before my muscles loosen, some time for me to make peace with the day and let go of images and thoughts. But slowly, I feel myself slipping into the darkness. Then I hear Coen whispering – or maybe I dreamt it?
“I won’t ever let you go. Destiny has brought you to me. I’ll patiently wait for all of you. Nothing less will ever do.”
Chapter Sixteen
I awaken to the sweetest, softest kisses making trails on my cheeks and down to my neck. I can feel my hair being brushed aside as his lips dig deeper. He bites me lightly, chuckling. “Wake up, my sleepy love.” He nuzzles his nose in my neck whispering in my ear, “I have to go.”