Lavish Betrayal

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Lavish Betrayal Page 7

by Charlotte Byrd


  As these questions pop into my head, another feeling gnaws at me. None of that would be as bad as never seeing Easton again.

  As I stand next to him, holding his hand, I intertwine my fingers with his.

  My heart is pounding a mile a minute. It feels like it’s about to jump out of my chest.

  When I look up at him, I see spots from the flood of light, but I can still somewhat make out his face.

  He clenches his jaw and looks straight ahead.

  It’s as if he’s challenging anyone out there to come for me. To force me away from him.

  We wait.

  Time seems to pass into infinity. It’s so quiet that all I hear is the sound of little water droplets landing on the floor of the cave after making their long trip from the ceiling.

  I can’t see anything looking straight on, so I look up instead.

  The ceiling is textured with different size formations hanging down from it. What are they called again? My thoughts go back to eighth grade Earth Science with Mr. Box, the man with a 70’s porn star mustache and an unwavering enthusiasm for science.

  Yes, of course!

  Stalactites hang from the ceiling of a cave while stalagmites grow from the cave floor.

  As my eyes adjust to the light, I see that this one doesn’t have too many stalagmites on the floor in the center where we are, but it does have a bunch further down into the tunnel.

  All of these thoughts occur to me in a matter of moments.

  That’s what it’s like when you are waiting for the unknown.

  But then, someone points the light down and darkness descends around us.

  “This is highly irregular.”

  The words are delivered in a very disapproving tone and they come from the silhouette of a short, pudgy man with a comb-over. As my eyes try to adjust, my vision is flooded with spots.

  “Mr. Bay? Aren’t you going to say anything?”

  “I don’t see why I need to,” Easton says confidently. “I am on a date, right?”

  The man doesn’t respond.

  “Am I on a date?” Easton asks.

  What is he getting at? I wonder.

  “Yes.”

  Easton shrugs as if the answer is clear. I look around and it’s not clear to anyone else but me.

  “What does that mean, Mr. Bay?”

  “Listen, Belding. I don’t need to explain myself to you.”

  “But I’m the event planner.”

  “Exactly!” Easton takes my hand and leads me out of the cave, past all the people with huge flashlights.

  “Mr. Bay!” Belding runs after us, tripping in the sand.

  “What?” Easton asks.

  “I don’t understand what’s going on. You should’ve stayed at the restaurant.”

  “I was bored at the restaurant. I’ve been on what feels like a million dates this week and I wanted a change. I want to make a real connection. I mean, I am on a date, right?”

  Belding shrugs. I notice that he has a significant bald spot on the back of his head, which he tries to cover up with hair from around it.

  “All dates and interactions must be recorded,” Belding says after a moment.

  Easton just waves his hand and pulls me away from him toward the beach. Belding catches up to us.

  “Mr. Bay, I can get fired for this. Your father…” His voice trembles when he brings him up.

  “Don’t worry about my father. He’s my problem. Besides, I’m not lying to you. I got tired of the boring sit down dates and I wanted to get to know her a little more. Isn’t that the point of this competition? Isn’t that what I’m doing for my father?”

  Belding shrugs, unable to figure out what to say in response.

  “I just don’t want to get in trouble for this,” he finally says quietly.

  I inhale deeply.

  The fear instilled by that man into everyone here, not just the captives, but practically everyone who works for him, is astonishing.

  I used to think that everyone was conspiring against us.

  I used to think that they were all being paid off to be here, but now I know that’s not true.

  They may be paid, but they are also afraid.

  Terrified.

  Scared-shitless of the King of York.

  This realization makes my heart heavy and tired. People who are paid off can be swayed with money.

  Not that I have any, but they could be swayed by being discovered or found out somehow.

  But what about people who are afraid? Like abused animals, they only know how to lash out.

  They have trouble trusting because their trust has been violated for so long.

  My trust was violated, too. But I wasn’t here that long.

  I haven’t made my whole life on York and I still have plenty of memories of how things should be to keep me going.

  But what about Belding? And Mirabelle and all the rest of them?

  Their life is here and they live behind those walls.

  They don’t know any other way to be.

  We walk back into the restaurant where the lights are bright and the cameras in the ceiling are rolling.

  I take Easton’s hand in mine and say, “I had a wonderful time.”

  I stand up on my tiptoes and press my lips to his.

  He immediately reciprocates, taking me into his arms.

  His lips burn mine as he buries his hands in my hair.

  For a brief moment, we push the outside world away.

  For a brief moment, there’s no one else around but us.

  Chapter 19 - Easton

  When we come back…

  Why did I kiss her back there in the cave when I knew they were coming?

  Fuck them, that’s why.

  Because I wanted to.

  Because I needed to.

  Those are great answers, but I’m not so foolhardy.

  Yes, I wanted to have her.

  Yes, I needed to taste her.

  But I also wanted another thing.

  They were going to suspect something anyway if they found us in the cave.

  So, why not just show them? Why not show a beautiful romantic date that ended in a kiss? That’s the goal of any successful date, isn’t it?

  So, when Everly thought about pulling away, I just kept kissing her harder. They would be here at any moment, I thought.

  They would see us.

  They would stand in awe in catching us doing something like that. And that’s exactly what I wanted. Then something occurs to me.

  Is that why Everly kissed me again?

  Just now?

  I stand next to her and lose myself in her.

  Her taste.

  Her smell.

  The texture of her hair.

  The little pieces of sand that I feel at the edges of my fingertips.

  I want her.

  All of her.

  Right now.

  I want this moment to last as long as possible and so does she.

  So, what begins as an act of defiance, something for show, becomes something so much more than that.

  Suddenly, we are lost in each other the way that we were all those days ago in my bed.

  Wanting.

  Craving.

  Yearning.

  Nothing else matters. No one else matters.

  “Um, excuse me,” Belding says after clearing his throat.

  No one matters, least of all him.

  Belding is his usual sniveling-bastard self. He acts as if he is afraid of my father when he is the first person to volunteer for every horrible thing that my father suggests. He is the worst example of a yes-man.

  We pull away from each other, but keep our hands intertwined.

  “Well, thank you for that, I guess,” Belding says under his breath.

  “Isn’t that what you wanted to see?” Everly asks with the kind of confidence in her voice that I don’t remember her exhibiting before, especially with the staff.

  “What do you mean?” Belding asks,
looking appalled.

  “Well, you were complaining that what we did in the cave wasn’t captured for everyone, whoever they are, to see. So, here you are. We did it again.”

  I smile and give her a little squeeze of the hand.

  “Well, you….still…shouldn’t have…run away,” Belding mumbles, tripping over his words.

  “We wanted some privacy. You know, to have an authentic moment. You have seen what we have done there. Now, do you want to know what we talked about?”

  My heart skips a beat. Everly’s newfound confidence is making her push the boundaries.

  Be quiet, I want to say, but I can’t.

  Probably feeling like he has been boxed in, Belding gives her a slight nod.

  “We talked about this competition. Mainly, how unusual is it of the King to ask us, the women he is courting, to go out on a date with his son.”

  There it is.

  My jaw nearly drops open.

  The perfect response delivered perfectly.

  Of course, this is something that people would talk about. It’s so obvious and yet, only somewhat insulting.

  But knowing what I know about my father, he likes a woman who’s a bit of a challenge. He likes someone with a good strong head on her shoulders and who isn’t afraid to speak her mind, even though by all accounts she should keep her mouth shut.

  “Wouldn’t you agree?” Everly presses.

  “With what?”

  “With the fact that it’s unusual?”

  “No, I wouldn’t say that,” Belding says.

  I don’t expect any other answer, but I am still surprised just how brown-nosing he can be.

  “Really? You oversee these type of competitions often?” Everly asks.

  I can’t help but smile.

  “I know that the King has his reasons for doing what he’s doing,” Belding says after a long thought.

  He thinks he’s so clever and loyal.

  Well, I guess he is loyal.

  And with that, Everly drops the matter.

  Like an expert diplomat, she doesn’t push for more than what she wants. She had dropped him to his knees, metaphorically speaking, and that’s where she will leave him.

  “If you don’t mind, I’m going to escort my date to her room now,” I say and we walk away.

  Everly and I walk away hand in hand.

  We don’t say much as I walk her back inside her house and up the stairs to her room. None of the other contestants are around as they are forbidden from leaving their rooms and being in any common areas while one of them is on a date.

  The purpose of this is, of course, to create the illusion of privacy. That pretty much sums up everything about York in a nutshell.

  Even though all eyes are on us just like they were at the beginning of the date, the walk to her room feels completely different.

  We made a connection, one that will not be easy to break.

  As I look into her eyes, I do not feel any regret in telling her what I found about my father and Alicia.

  She will not betray me.

  Of this, I am certain.

  As I take her face into my hands, there are so many more things that I want to tell her.

  In a world built on lies, it is remarkable to find a person with whom I can share my truth.

  But alas, I cannot.

  There is one thing that I can do.

  I can give her another kiss.

  I press my lips onto hers and wait for her mouth to open. I wrap my arms around her waist and for a few moments, the outside world falls away and disappears. Too bad that it has to be heard from again.

  Chapter 20 - Easton

  When I see him…

  I walk down the stairs with a heavy heart.

  I miss her.

  I want to run back to her room and spend the night with her, but the date is over and there are certain appearances to uphold.

  I’ve already shown her too much preference as is. I don’t want to make my feelings for her even more obvious.

  When I walk out the back of the house, I pause for a moment to enjoy the soft breeze coming off the ocean. It tosses my hair from side to side, and it tastes of salt.

  My thoughts keep returning to Everly.

  Her eyes.

  Her long neck.

  Her perky breasts.

  Her lean strong shoulders.

  Her sharp tongue.

  But I will go crazy thinking about her.

  No, I need to put her out of my mind.

  In front of me, the ocean spreads out into the darkness. The stars above illuminate just the ripples on top of the water slightly, but it’s enough to call me inside.

  I take off my shirt and walk briskly toward the water. When I get to the shore, I pull off the rest of my clothes and wade in.

  The water is warm, just a few degrees cooler than the air. But it’s refreshing anyway. When I get to about waist deep, I dive in. I hold my breath for as long as possible and just swim.

  My feet make a large frog kick underneath while my arms follow along in a breast stroke. When I open my eyes a little, the salty water starts to burn.

  The water around York is crystal clear.

  During the days, you can see straight through the turquoise down to the yellow sandy floor.

  But swimming through it at night, I don’t see a thing except for the bubbles that escape from my mouth.

  I come up for breath quickly, and then quickly descend back down. This time, instead of swimming, I just allow myself to sink a little under water, watching hundreds of little bubbles, different sizes, escaping from my mouth.

  They rush toward the surface, as if they were not made up of air, but were desperate to get air themselves.

  As I swim, I feel all the tension in my body starting to dissipate.

  My muscles start to relax and the world doesn’t feel as heavy for a moment. It’s all an illusion, of course. Because all that tension and uncertainty will be back as soon as I reach the surface. And it will multiply as soon as I get out of the water and feel the full weight of the gravitational pull on my body.

  But, for now, well…I bend my knees and fall back under the water.

  Sometime later, I climb out of the water and stand for a few minutes at the edge of the sand to air dry. The breeze feels a lot cooler now than it did before, but it stops short of being cold. When I’m sufficiently dry, I grab my clothes and shoes and walk back up the beach.

  I don’t want to put my clothes back onto my sticky flesh, but it would be inappropriate to walk all the way back to my house stark naked.

  So, I compromise and just peel on my pants.

  No underwear. No shoes. No shirt. Just the trousers.

  Just as I get back up to the main level of the house, I see him.

  A silhouette of a familiar man.

  I have a good eye for faces, but he’s facing away from me. I take a few quick steps forward and when he reaches for his bag to put into the back of the town car, my suspicions are confirmed.

  “Jamie!” I yell and run up to him. He looks startled. His eyes grow big like sand dollars.

  “Oh, hey,” he mumbles and puts his other bag into the trunk.

  The driver is sitting in the car, and I motion for him to wait.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask.

  “Leaving.”

  “Yes, I can see that. But what were you doing here?”

  He glances up at me, clearly unwilling to answer any questions.

  “Listen, I need to talk to you.”

  “I can’t; my flight is leaving soon.”

  “Then you better talk fast.”

  He shakes his head. Openly defying me.

  I take him by the collar. “Listen, you’re going to talk to me either way. But we can have a nice chat or a bad one, it’s up to you.”

  He gives me a nod.

  I tell the driver that we will back in a few minutes and lead him back down to the beach for a bit of privacy. I don’t know if anyone is w
atching, but I don’t want to take any chances.

  “Hey, man, what do you want?” Jamie asks, clearly irritated by all of this.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m on a job. Just like I was in Philly. And Greenwich. And Boston. And Atlanta. What the fuck do you care?”

  “What kind of job? Who hired you?”

  Jamie drops his head. “I knew I should’ve never listened to him. What a bust.”

  I don’t know what he’s talking about, but I wait for him to continue.

  “Listen, I don’t know what the fuck is going on on this island, but I’m glad I’m getting off. It’s definitely not worth the ten grand I was paid to bring those girls to those events.”

  “Really? Why is that?” I ask.

  “Because…because…one little cunt attacked me! I mean, I was just there doing my job, working as a server of all things, and she just jumped up and fucking started cursing at me. And hit me really hard.”

  I resist the temptation to mock him. I want to ask if it were Everly? No, probably not since they would’ve eliminated her for that. Contestants were sent away for far less.

  “So, you were working as a server here?” I press him.

  “Yeah, can you believe that? What a joke.”

  I nod as if I agree or understand. I don’t.

  “How did you find out about this place?” I ask.

  Chapter 21 - Easton

  When I find out more…

  Jamie shrugs his shoulders and looks at the ground.

  “I was a broke grad student working at the Nantucket Country Club, trying to find a rich girl or a divorcee to take me away from my shitty life. And then my friend there told me about this job. Easy money. Doing supposedly super secret stuff for some billionaire. When they reached out to me, they said that this is what I’d have to do to start out. Basically, be a honey pot, you know? Meet some prospects they had their eyes on, ask them out, date them for a bit, and then invite them to this lavish party.”

  “Sounds like a good deal,” I say to keep him talking.

  “Yeah, I thought so, too. Only rule was that I couldn’t sleep with them. No matter what. I didn’t think they were really serious about that, but my friend Neil who came in the same time as me, lost his job for doing just that. They paid him anyway but he didn’t get any more work.”

 

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