Lies, Mistrust and Fairy Dust

by Xavier Neal

  “So...what exactly are you saying?”

  “I'm saying that maybe...your father is using it to try to tell you something. To communicate to you since he can't reach you by regular means.”

  My brain starts swarming and I feel my stomach gurgle with angst. Every dream I have seems to have my father trying to protect me or shelter me...but from what? Or who?

  “Anything in common with all the dreams?”

  Deciding that I should probably share with my boyfriend―er husband―life partner, whatever the correct term for him is, I open my mouth to reply but shut it upon Peter invading our room, looking less pleasant than normal.

  He announces, “We're leaving in five.”

  Justin returns to tying his tie. “Belle was supposed to go with me.”

  Tugging at the collar of his own button down shirt he grumbles, “Yeah, well, she's not feeling well this morning.”

  “Wonder why,” I mutter a little louder than intended.

  Justin stifles a snicker and Peter shoots his eye down to a hateful stare.

  Feeling the heat of his attitude I pull my knees up to my chest. “Why the look? Not a morning person?”

  “I'd be even less of a morning person if I had to wake up to you.”

  Shoving his hands in his pocket Justin sighs, “Hey Peter, what do doors do?”

  Peter replies, “Open.”

  “And?”

  “And close.” Catching onto Justin's smart mouth response he growls, “Two minutes.”

  I butt in again. “What happened to five?”

  “You,” he sneers and slams the door behind him.

  Not being able to control his own laughter, Justin lets it out softly. Shaking his head he tilts it my direction. “What am I gonna with you?”

  “With me?” I croak playfully. “You're the one who had that messed up knock knock joke.”

  He approaches me and leans his face down into mine. With a soft flick of hair off of my cheek, he lowers his lips for a kiss. Our lips graze before slipping together. The sweet introduction before our tongues meet is brief. Tangling them together, a soft whimper of pleasure comes from me. I could live like this forever. I could spend every moment of the rest of my life right here...kissing him. His hand slides around the back of my neck and into my hair threading his finger softly to keep us glued as he deepens the kiss. My body melts into the mattress just as hands run up his abs. He slightly whimpers in return.

  Peter whines from the other side of the closed door. “Now!”

  With an abrupt pull away of his lips, he leans his forehead against mine, eyes still shut. “I hate my job...”

  I lift his chin up. “It brought us together...”

  His cocky smile grows and spreads across his entire face. “That. It. Did.”

  “Now!” Peter whines this time loud enough to wake up anyone in the apartment who is still sleeping.

  Justin growls and strolls around to the other side of the bed heading for the door. “I'll see you when I get home from work.”

  I chuckle and fold my arms across my chest. “Don't say it like that.”

  “Why not?”

  “Makes us sound so...normal.”

  “Normality is just a consensus of opinion.”

  With a crooked grin I glance away, something immediately catching my eye. I reach for it and sigh, “Then can we agree that it's consensus of opinion for you to wear this when conducting business?”

  Almost out the door, Justin pauses and glances at the object. Quickly I toss him his fedora that he catches, flips, and tilts dastardly down to play with the lighting of his face. “Thank you, Mrs. Ryan.”

  He escorts himself to a fuming Peter while I let my body giggle over the fondness of how beautiful that sounds. Peyton Ryan. A very special ring to it I love. Speaking of rings, if he's calling me Mrs. Ryan shouldn't he put some sort of rock on my hand?

  Laughing at how ridiculous I sound, I cover my snickers as Belle pops into my room, bouncy and cheerful still in sleepwear.

  “What's so funny?” She poses in my door frame looking like a model in an underwear catalog. I still vote she would've been a better fit for this whole bank bimbo job.

  “Nothing. I was having crazy thoughts. I thought you were sick.”

  She flops down on the edge. “Why would you think that?”

  “Peter said you weren't feeling well and that's why he was going with Justin to...to...” Come to think about it, I have no idea where they were going dressed to impress like that. “To...do whatever it is they do.”

  Belle licks her lips. “Interesting.”

  “Why...”

  “Peter was the one who insisted I stay home and relax. Told me he could handle the deal with Justin. That was right before he brought me breakfast in bed.”

  My voice stumbles over itself in disbelief, “Breakfast in what?”

  “Breakfast in bed.” She giggles. “With fresh cut flowers.”

  I didn't realize Peter had an I'm sorry bone in his body. In fact for the longest time, he had me convinced he didn't have a nice one that wasn't somehow coated in sleaze until I saw him in Landlin romancing Belle when no one was around. I guess he realized how bad he messed up yesterday and needed to fix it. The words he said last night had so much disdain in them, I don't know how she could forgive him with a mere breakfast in bed and some flowers. But who am I to judge?

  **

  At work, my training has been moved up a level. Loans. There's no way in hell, it could possibly be worse than following around the assistant cheer captain like I was yesterday. I spend the first half of the morning trying not to get lost in loan mumbo jumbo. It's like speaking a foreign language, but I pick that up even faster than I do loan garble. Thankfully the loan officers are requested for actual work and I'm banished back down to the land of tellers where I get to stand around being less than productive because things are slow.

  The desk phone rings and I flip on my pitch perfect perky tone. “Thank you so much for calling Collin Sterling my name is P.J. and it'd be my pleasure to serve you.” Just hearing the words come out of my mouth make me feel cheap and gross.

  “A pleasure huh?” the voice on the other end sounds like one I recognize but not the one I was hoping for. “So P.J. tell me what color your dress is for our date this evening.”

  I twirl the pen around in front of me and drop my face down. I don't want to go out with him. With Nick, something about it felt wrong and sad because if it were other circumstances we could've worked out, but going out with Landon 'The World Loves Me' David just makes me wish I could be anywhere else other than feeding into his ego. Like anywhere else. The only upside to it is, he appreciates it more when I poke at his ego than when I inflate it.

  “Why?”

  “I want to buy a new shirt to compliment it. Looks are everything in certain settings.”

  Gag. Me. “It's a surprise.”

  “I don't do surprises well.”

  “That's because you're two short breaths away from a control freak.”

  “I'm not a control freak.”

  “Try harder to convince yourself that's true.”

  “I'm not.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  “That was sarcasm...”

  “You're quick.” With a deep breath I bite the end of the pen I'm holding. Doing my best to regain my composure I say, “You plan other people's fun so you can control what they enjoy. You have a driver which you give specific directions to down to the amount of space between cars. You eat at the same restaurants so you can control who handles your food down to the number of dashes of seasoning they put in things.”

  “And let's not forget I wear a key fob under my tie, which belongs to my safety deposit box so I can control the amount of security it gets.”

  The pen drops as this unknown factor kicks me in the gut. This is the kind of un-foreseen circumstance we can't risk. “I've never seen it.”

  “Exactly.” After a long breath he sighs, “I guess I am a bi
t of a control freak...”

  “Just a bit...” I try not to growl at the fact I'm going to have to get close enough to make a copy of it. Chances are I'm going to have to slip him a sleeping pill. Damn it! Focusing back on point, I ease up on the hate. “But it's somewhat cute. Wear a green shirt.”

  “So you're wearing a green dress?”

  “No. Green compliments your eyes.”

  There's a short pause before he says, “Thank you.”

  “Look Landon, if you're expecting a third date―” the fact he won't be getting one right now is irrelevant, “―you're going to have to loosen the reins a little. I'm more of a go with the flow kind of girl.” Sort of. A little. Maybe?

  “I'm sorry for not respecting that sooner. Forgive me?”

  The way the words come across, I know he really seeks forgiveness. “Forgiven.”

  “Food preference?”

  “You can pick that. Baby steps,” I reassure him. “Baby steps are the key to getting over your addiction.”

  “Or finding a new one...”

  The flirtatious indication causes me to genuinely smile. All the girls in this place and it's me he goes after. Damn the red hair. Justin was right. I'm not repeating that out loud. Seeing Tammy approach I croak loudly, “Well thank you for calling Landon. It was a pleasure to serve you.”

  Sensing the more professional manner in my tone, he chuckles. “Tammy is right there isn't she?”

  “Mmhm.”

  “Hand her the phone.”

  “You've been on that phone a long―” I hold the phone out for her and she immediately repeats the phrase I did when I answered using her name instead of mine. After a moment she snickers and sighs, “Thanks Landon. Have a good day.” Upon hanging up she folds her arms across her chest. This time it's barely being covered by deep red long sleeve dress shirt and a black vest. “Getting awfully chummy aren't you?”

  Nervous I ask, “Am I breaking some sort of policy?”

  “God, no.” She flips her hair off her shoulders. “In fact, we encourage this sort of behavior. Keeps the clients...pleased if you will. By any means.”

  “Why does that sound like...we're escorts rather than bankers.”

  “Oh honey, everyone knows sex and money go together like whip cream and strawberries.” The analogy reminds me that I'm hungry and my lunch break won't be coming fast enough. “I would never advise my employees to sleep with someone to close a business deal, however I would encourage them to entertain the idea if it helped. Think stripper, not hooker. All for show, none of the tell...unless you want to.”

  Suddenly I feel disgusting and want nothing more than to crawl out of the shell they call P.J. Can I really stand that high and mighty though? I mean I never slept with Nick because it wasn't required to seal the deal, but if I would've been asked...no. I still wouldn't have! Aside from the whole virgin thing, there are just lines I don't think I can cross. Yeah they've been a bit blurry recently, but that I will not do, even if my beautiful counterpart soul mate is willing. That makes me wonder...now that we're together is he willing to sell his body for the sake of the job?

  Deciding it'd be best to change the subject, I clear my throat. “Date of your own tonight?”

  Tammy hums. “In deed...”

  Curiosity purrs at me like the ugly beast she is. “Was it that hot guy that came in yesterday? The one with a hat?”

  “Justin?” Her voice sounds excited but hopeless. “No. Sadly he's engaged. Happily if you know what I mean...”

  I do my best to put my smile away, but can't help it. It stretches from one ear to the other as I drown in the simple fact Justin is changing his ways for me, starting with the fact he's telling people he's engaged...even if they're complete strangers who will forget him in a couple days. It's the effort that counts, right?

  **

  Arriving home after another tortuous day of training, I'm startled at the condition of the kitchen area that has been assaulted by Justin. There are tarps covering the floor. The table has been moved into the edge of the living room and there are mountains of gray lumps of something on the kitchen counters alongside various sized chemical bottles. In front of him is a small table with something on it I can't exactly make out. His bare back is to me exposing a very beautiful view that I'm not sure I want to disrupt. The way his dress pants are hanging off his hips, yet again reminds me that I am indeed curious what would happen if they just fell to the ground. What lovely sight would I see? After all he's now seen me completely naked and well I―

  With his back still to me he says, “Haven't you heard it's not polite to stare.”

  I fold my arms across my chest. “Really? That's the best quote you've got?”

  “If you stare at a beautiful woman too long, you turn to stone.” Finally he turns around revealing a sight that I'm sure would easily earn him People Magazines Sexiest Man Alive, every year. “At least part of you.”

  “Cute.” His wiggles his eyebrows at me. “What are you doing? Is that clay?”

  Justin toys with the gray substance that's on the table. “It is.”

  “What are you doing?”

  Rolling around a small ball in his hand, he answers, “Making a forgery.”

  “With clay? I'm pretty sure that's not how we make coins.”

  “Magical coins are made magical ways.” He prepares to toss the small hunk at me. “Catch!”

  The minute the clay is in my hands I feel a warm sensation rush over me. My face starts to form a soft smile and there's a light relief over me. After dropping my purse I roll the clay around my fingertips. “I haven't touched clay since...” The sentence doesn't seem to finish. It was the day of the carnival. The day my world came tumbling down around me. The day Peter ripped the blindfold from over my eyes and made me see Justin for the con artist he really was. Or is. It was a tipping point in life and somehow I feel I haven't stopped tipping since.

  Justin leans his hands on the small work table. “Wanna talk about it?”

  Clearing away the tears clogging my throat, I shrug. “What's there to say?”

  “I don't know...” A long exhale escapes him. “That you still feel betrayed in ways? That that's when you realized you couldn't trust me?”

  “Justin-”

  “Peyton,” he whispers. “It's okay. We went through a lot those last few days and we've never really talked about it. Nothing that happened was fair to you and for that I'm sorry. For making you feel like I did, I'll never forgive myself even once you truly have. I wasn't lying when I told you how much you meant to me then.”

  “I know...” Feeling like the air in the room is too thick to think I try to change the subject, unsure I want to deal with those unresolved issues or any for that matter. It's a long damn list. Squishing the clay I smile. “Maybe I should take up sculpting.”

  “There's an idea.” Playfully he swipes some from the table and spreads it on my cheek. “In fact, I think you look good in clay.”

  With a gasp and quick reflexes I smudge a bit of the wet clay I have on the side of his dress pants, “I think you do too.”

  “Peyton!” He looks down in a bit of disbelief. The shock on his face gets me to giggle. “Oh you think this is funny do you?” I giggle more until he wipes some across my dress shirt. “How's that? Still funny?”

  My jaw drops and I start tripping over my words. “B-B-Belle is g-g-gonna kill you...”

  “It'll be worth it,” he says rubbing a ball of wet clay in his hands before tossing it at me creating more of a mess on my skirt.

  The kitchen wet clay battle begins. We're tossing balls of it, smearing it all over one another and making a disaster of a mess in what was supposed to be his work space. While we both know we should stop, we don't. It feels like for just a brief moment we aren't on a deadline. Like we don't have enemies breathing down our necks. Like we aren't in an odd ball family of criminals. For just a minute it feels like it's just us. Two crazy people completely in love with each other.

  To
wards the end of the battle, Justin wraps his wet clay fingers around me and sets me on the edge of the kitchen table. His smile disappears as his eyes begin to spark something magical inside of me. How every girl doesn't fall into these alluring crystal waves of beauty is beyond me. Wrapping my legs around his waist to pull him closer only spurs him to wrench a hand on the back of my nape and leech his lips onto mine. I feel like a junkie every time he kisses me. This is the fix that can make everything in a day go right, that can make every bad thought, every bad action I had to make today, vanish. Our lips part and his tongue darts after mine possibly facing the same withdrawal. My moist fingers run down his abs, over to his sides where I grip him tighter. He lets out a very soft but very distinct moan. Finding this exciting, I kiss harder and a bit faster determined not to let this passion end. Not now. Not at this moment when we're so close to crossing into something new. Justin's hand travels lightly down my back to the bottom of my shirt. With one swift pull away from my lips, he rips the buttons, yanks it off and returns his lips to mine. Desperate to be closer, I clutch him harder, his bare clay painted chest now painting my bra. Seeing no real stop ahead and okay with it, I swirl my tongue around his, tempting him to continue to undress me.