Tiger Lily: Part Three

by Duncan, Amélie S.

  Whatever was to come, this was where I wanted to be.

  “SO HOW WAS LAST night with Ian?” I asked Mary for the second time at breakfast in the kitchen the next day. I had dozed in the middle of the second film and was carried away to bed, where I promptly fell asleep—well, after making love. Yes. Jonas and I made love. Whether it was quick, slow, hard, or soft sex, there was love between us.

  “What do you want to know? I told you we watched a few episodes of Star Trek after you and Jonas went to bed. We made bets, which Ian lost, and we devoured the rest of rosewater custard we found in the freezer,” Mary responded between bites of French toast.

  I smirked before eating a bite of the toast off of my plate. “I want to know more than that.”

  Mary sighed loudly and opened her laptop. “We didn’t have intercourse last night. Okay?” she said. Her tone was a bit snippy, and she quickly added an apology.

  Frustrated? I mused to myself and opened my laptop.

  “He’s off-limits,” she said and sipped her orange juice.

  “If you say so,” I said, my voice light as I ate the rest of the toast on my plate.

  “I do,” she said quietly. Her lips turned down as she stared at her screen. “Everything okay?” I asked.

  She gave a wave of her hand. “Hans being childish again. He hasn’t signed off on the independent project I did with him last semester, but I’ll handle it.” She went back to eating, so I opened my laptop and logged onto my email. Checking my new messages, I discovered one from Ian. “Ian sent me a message. I didn’t know he had my email.”

  Mary looked up from her laptop. “I gave it to him last night. So you can forward over that message from Heather.”

  I opened and read his message.

  Forward the message from Heather.

  Thanks,

  Ian

  A man of few words. I opened my delete folder and recovered the message, just as I noticed there was a new one, too. I sent the one from yesterday to Ian, then read the new message.

  Hi Lily,

  I went to visit Declan in jail and he gave his blessing in having you over to find your stuff. He said he was out of his mind at the time and has no idea where they could be. I searched myself, but I really don’t understand what I’m looking for. Maybe you can tell me?

  Did you know he’s suffering from an addiction to pain medication? He also was diagnosed with impulse control problems a long time ago, but couldn’t afford to get help. Now with his business closed during his busiest season he may not financially recover. He’s been in prayer and wants to do the right thing. He told me to tell you his first act of penance is to apologize to you. He’s willing to do it in person. I’ll be there so I promise it will be okay. I work near your office. If ever you want to talk, I go to Sophie’s for my lunch pretty much every day. He’s getting help, now all he needs is a little help from you.

  Sincerely,

  Heather

  I moved the cursor to hover over the reply key. Did she know Declan was manipulating her or was he different with her?

  “Lily. What’s wrong?” Mary asked, frowning.

  I blew out my breath. “Another message from Heather.”

  Mary moved my laptop to read it and let out a huff. “He’s coming up with a medical excuse to use as a defense,” Mary chided. “Please don’t believe him. She has some nerve trying to make you feel bad for him.”

  I tilted my head. “He’s probably pressuring her to keep trying to get me back under his control. I know that, but I still feel sorry for her.” Mary watched as I forwarded the new message to Ian and shut down my email.

  “You can’t save her. Ian said the best thing for her right now is Declan in jail. So if you want to help her, help him stay there.” Mary moved her cursor and turned her screen around to show me a view of a website. “Ian recommended a new spa he uses called Verses on Bleecker Street. His skin is flawless close up.” Her eyes flicked to the computer screen. “Anyway, he said the facials make your skin as soft as a newborn. He lost our bets last night, so we get his appointments, or something like that.” She waved her hand. “It’s a short subway ride. What do you think? Or do you need to tell Jonas?”

  Jonas had left earlier to take Paul to their rescheduled baseball game at Yankee Stadium. The building had security and the street was free of press. Jonas was their target, so I didn’t see any reason why we shouldn’t. “I think it will be fine. I’ll just send a message to him.” After we leave. I thought.

  “Great. I’ll go get my handbag and we can leave for the spa right away,” she said, firming up our plan.

  “Alright. I’ll just change quickly and we can go.” We ate the rest of our brunch and cleaned the dishes before getting up to get dressed. I changed into a silk jersey t-shirt and cargo pants with low heels. Putting my hair in a messy braid, I grabbed my handbag and phone before going downstairs to meet Mary, who was at the door waiting for me, and we left.

  The sunshine had finally returned, coupled with a cool breeze that blew our jackets and hair as we walked down the sidewalk. Passing the security guard outside of the building, I peered down to the end of the block and noticed the barrier was moved aside. There was no sign of the press. I let go of my breath and fell into pace with Mary as we walked past the factories and galleries in the area until we reached the Chambers Street subway and descended the stairs.

  Although I had caught the subway hundreds of times since moving to Jersey City, I hadn’t realized how much I’d been spoiled by the smooth, spacious rides of the car. Digging out my old subway card to add funds and waiting with the passengers to board in the cramped space was exhausting. The Bleecker Street stop couldn’t come quick enough.

  Mary, on the other hand, soaked it up, adding change to the jars of subway performers and complimenting a woman’s crocheting. I stood rigid by the door, holding on to the metal pole as passengers bumped into me to rush to an available seat. The car soon filled up and we were sandwiched together as more boarded the car, making it oppressively hot. When we finally reached our subway stop, I rushed up the flights of stairs, not stopping until I reached outside, where I gulped air to catch my breath.

  “Are you okay?” Mary asked

  I nodded, catching my breath. Once I calmed, I looked around to get my bearings, and that was when my heart stopped.

  “Isn’t that bastard’s shop over here?” Mary asked, wrinkling her nose. The sign for Verses Spa was on the beginning of the next block. The direct route passed Parco’s and Declan’s import-export shop.

  While I was deciding what to do, Mary moved with purpose towards his shop, leaving a trail of curse words behind her. The path was set, and I took tentative steps in the direction of two places that held some of my worst memories. Clutching the strap of my handbag tightly in my grip, I walked down the almost empty sidewalk, reaching Parco’s first. My mind said to run as I replayed the sequence of Declan slamming my head against the dash of his car. My breathing quickened as I passed the door. I couldn’t stop myself from looking inside and staring at the small tables, some with patrons chatting and eating. I cupped my hand over my mouth, the normality of the scene leaving a distaste on my tongue.

  I shifted my gaze to the sidewalk and moved forward, closer to his store, half expecting to find him standing outside smoking a cigarette, something else he had lied about giving up a while ago. But to my relief, there was only Mary peering in the darkened window.

  “You’re lucky it’s closed, asswipe,” Mary said ardently.

  The store was closed, just as Heather had said in her email. From the dust and fliers outside, it had been closed for at least a few days, though I couldn’t be sure. Nonetheless, Declan wasn’t there and Jonas’s plan was moving forward. I clutched my purse and stared at the closed sign. I couldn’t help but think on the years he spent building it. Seeing the work possibly destroyed was disheartening.

  “Declan hit you and was hateful to you. He stole from you. He’s the reason you’re on stress lea
ve. He tried to ruin your job. Didn’t you say he showed his coworkers the photos, too?” Mary said, uprooting the twinge of guilt that was trying to plant itself in my conscience. She was harsh, but she gave me what I needed, a dose of reality.

  “I lived it. I know all that. I’m still scared. When will I stop being afraid of him?” I said to myself as much as I said it to Mary. Will I always feel this way?

  “Give yourself some time,” Mary said softly. Linking arms, she and I walked to the end of the block and crossed over to Verses Spa. Mary opened the door and asked. “So, what did Jonas say about the subway? I’m sure he probably spoke to Ian. I hope he didn’t send David.”

  I moved back from the door and fumbled with my phone. “I didn’t tell him.” I pressed reply on an old message and typed in.

  Mary and I took the subway to Verses Spa. Hope you’re both having fun. Got to go.

  My phone beeped immediately with an incoming reply.

  David called and told me you left. I’m not happy.

  “You’re in trouble?” Mary asked biting her lip.

  I felt a pain in my chest. “A little,” I said before writing back.

  Declan’s in jail. His shop is closed. I sent the new email from Heather to Ian. I’m with Mary. I’m not alone.

  Jonas sent a response.

  With everything going on are you seriously arguing with me? David will pick you two up.

  He had a point. I responded.

  You’re right. Talk to you later.

  I followed Mary inside the building. Verses was filled with white and grey décor with soft chrome accents. I peered up at the lit sign on a series of screens that listed the selection of services as Mary gave our names to the female receptionist.

  “Great. Everything is set. You can both take a seat and someone will be with you shortly.”

  Mary started to walk away, but I asked. “I didn’t have an appointment and I was going to see if I could schedule a manicure and pedicure?”

  She stared at the computer screen before her. “The appointment was changed to two this morning and services were added for Mr. Unger?” She glanced up and I nodded. “Full facial, body scrub rejuvenation, wax, massage, manicure and pedicure. I’m sorry, but it’s too late to alter the services now.”

  “Oh. Thanks,” I said and nodded.

  Mary laughed “Ian lost a bunch of bets with me last night. He really shouldn’t gamble. I mean, can you believe he didn’t know the real name of Whorf?”

  I smirked. “Absolutely not.”

  “Exactly,” Mary said and looked away. “I played along with his game to pretty me up.”

  I had started to suspect as much as well, but it hammered the point home to hear her acknowledge the reality of these appointments out loud. She gave a handwritten card to the receptionist and I followed her to the waiting area. We sat down next to each other in two of the available white cushioned chairs.

  I pursed my mouth. “You’re beautiful Mary. You don’t need Ian Unger to tell you so.” I took my phone out and texted Jonas.

  Ian is playing Mary with the spa. I’m not happy.

  Jonas wrote back.

  He’s not playing, but now we are both unhappy ;) Got to go.

  I grinned and put the phone away. After a few minutes, we were escorted into a locker room to store our things and put on robes. Déjà vu, though they had chocolate-covered strawberries here. I clinched my robe and went to sit with Mary, who was tucking away a few magazines along the long chrome coffee table. I reached out to see what she was hiding and was struck immediately by the cover photos. Jonas Crane and Melissa Finch stared back at me. Picking up one of the magazines, I sat down in the seat next to her and flipped through it to the article. Crane and Finch: Empires Unite For Love and a Whole Lot of Money.

  “Don’t read that crap. They know nothing,” Mary whispered.

  I read on anyway. The page had a chart highlighting the similarities between the two of them. They both were from old, wealthy New York families and at the top of their careers—though Jonas was described as ‘a business deity,’ well established, influential, and good looking.

  The article had Jonas linked to a few starlets I hadn’t known about after his marriage, with a chart showing how long they had lasted before he moved on—an average of two months. All except for Melissa. She was in his life for many years. She had, according to the article, “What it takes to get the illustrious divorcee too settle down again.”

  While I was sure of Jonas’s love and that he wouldn’t be marrying Melissa, I wasn’t sure of how long we would remain together. I had him for now, but knowing all that he was, I couldn’t imagine keeping him forever.

  The thought sunk my heart and left me feeling less than refreshed as our appointment continued.

  When David picked us up, we went through a drive-through for a late lunch and still made it in time for our afternoon appointment at Dee’s Salon. The lights were all on, but the sign in the window read ‘closed.’ Dee had warned me that we would be the last appointment of the day. We walked through the glass door and a bell sounded. Mary’s phone buzzed just then and she answered it while we waited in the empty reception area.

  My mind drifted over last night with Jonas and the many ways he continued to show me how much he loved and cared about me. Love was what I had and could give, but would that be enough for a man that had everything?

  “Oh, yes. Better. Definitely better. You look exceptional. What are you wearing? Marc Jacobs?” Dee questioned as he broke through my thoughts and gave me a hug. Dee was standing there wearing one of his signature outfits, designer jeans, printed t-shirt, and leather shoes. He eyed me from head to toe and whistled.

  “Yes. I believe it is, but I’m not sure,” I mumbled against his shoulder as I reached up and touched his ponytail.

  “Like it? I’m growing my hair out,” Dee said, releasing and turning me as he lifted the collar on my dress. “Yep. I’m good. He pulled my ponytail out and fluffed out my hair. “Well, someone did their job on you. Your skin looks better too. Getting sleep, and what else?” He let me go and I blushed and laughed. “Oh lord. She’s getting some too. Must be good with that laugh,” he said and laughed with me.

  I motioned Mary to follow us back to his station as Dee took my hand. “You can go short with your hair now, if you still want to do it,” he said, motioning for me to take a seat. I tried to suppress my laugh. That won’t be happening anytime soon, I thought.

  “Dee,” I said, pulling Mary up next to me. “This is my best friend Mary. She’s here for a new style today.”

  Mary held her hand out, which Dee took as he did one of his polite assessments. “Red. Curvy. Cute glasses, though I bet she’s hiding some beautiful eyes behind them. Clothing has patchouli oil college girl all over it. Send that back and pick up Dolce and Gabbana fragrance today. I’ll give you a sample. I promise, you’ll love it.” He turned to his Assistant Marco and me as he said, “She’s a swan. I can work her into a…Mad Men Maven.”

  Mary’s bow mouth broke into a wide smile, and I could have hugged Dee again. She turned to me. “Mad Men?” she mouthed.

  “Oh, I’m Dee’s Tim Burton Beauty,” I said, taking the spare chair.

  “Films and television references for style. I love your ideas. Please make me a Mad Men Maven,” Mary said. Dee motioned for his assistant to come over and take care of me. He started spraying my hair as Dee fussed over Mary.

  Removing her glasses, Dee said, “Look at these pale green eyes. Mascara on these long lashes will bring him to his knees. Push up bra, burn the one you’re wearing. Show off that cleavage, and please, no more baggy t-shirts.”

  “Oh, I plan to show more than just cleavage this break,” Mary trilled as Dee put on a cape over her clothes and took her over to wash her hair.

  “Oh, what’re you planning?” Marco asked Mary, suddenly curious as he sat me down at the station next to her.

  “A holiday fling,” she said with a sly grin. “I just have
to find a guy.”

  “Oh, I like her,” Dee said and smiled at me.

  “What kind of a guy do you want?” Marco asked. “I’ll tell you where in the city you need to travel to get him. Do you want a dominant businessman?” That had my face warming. “Hipster? Motorcycle man? Hell, I can even tell you where to get yourself a cowboy in New York.”

  Mary tried to lift her soapy head, but Dee put her back. “Just talk.”

  “No suited hipsters. I don’t even want him to talk too much. He has to be sexy, though,” Mary said.

  “You want the Three G’s—grab, grunt, and grope?” Dee said and we all laughed.

  “Volte Bar. No muss, no fuss,” Marco interjected. “But don’t go tonight, it’s private. You can dance there, too. But don’t hold a blue light to your dress later. It’ll light up like Christmas.”

  I gave her a smirk she couldn’t see. No matter what she said, I highly doubted Ian would watch her cozy up to someone else tonight. “You haven’t shared how you plan to meet this fling while you’re out with me, Jonas, and Ian?”

  “We’re all friends. Ian and I are not together,” Mary responded, shutting down me and Ian in the space of a few words. “So what was that you said about a dress, Marco?” Mary asked.

  “Throw it away and never tell anyone you went there,” Marco said and rinsed my hair.

  Dee scrunched up his face. “Don’t listen to him, ladies. These two are not ready for that kind of wild aggression. And I doubt Lily’s man will let her go there, unless he’s a sleaze bag.” He picked up a magazine and flipped it to show Mary some of the latest fashions. “Wear stilettos like this, Mary. You don’t need to go to a desperate dive bar. Everyone wants to get laid. Just go for quality. Shake your butt in a castle, you’ll be asked home. You understand? We’ll go over your colors after this.” Dee rinsed Mary’s hair. “Lily, what does your man look like? Because your last one wasn’t even cute.” He wrinkled his nose. “What’s his name again?”

  “Jonas… Jonas Crane,” I said with a bit of a stammer. “I’ve got photos.”