by Pauline West
You’d tap your cheek, thinking. “Oh, let’s take needfulness and violence, how ‘bout. And give me some sprinkles, too. Mm, the sad kind.”
“I’ve got just the one for you!” the woman at the window would say.
And then you’d have your arms full of me. Lily flavor: the sad, kinda fucked up kind. Oh yeah, dip me up a spoonful of that, right?
Ry didn’t know a thing about the truth of my past, and I had planned on keeping it that way. We were from the same country, maybe, but not the same side of town. Maybe not even the same town.
I walked the fashion show for Chandler. It was really just a small thing, a private opening at Aerie. The place was packed with his closest clients, fellow designers and friends. There was a photographer from the city paper, and a friend who’d flown in from New York- she worked at The New York Times Magazine, as it turned out. I’m glad I didn’t know that, then.
I wasn’t the only model, of course. There were a couple other girls. Mostly, we wore different variations of the outfits I’d worn for the shoot earlier in the week. I felt surprisingly at home, even as my whole body filled with beating wings.
It was as if I was an actress playing a role. I was so confident in my director, my lighting, my clothing designer that all I had to do was be her, and trust that the rest would work itself out.
People clapped, people screamed, they took pictures, and I floated up and down with a Mona Lisa smile like I was wafting through a dream.
It was awesome.
Afterwards, champagne. Standing around in the dark out back with some of the other models, and the darkness was lit up with distant gas lights, and glittering stars. The embers of people’s cigarettes floated back and forth in the alley as laughter floated up between us. Ry was there, and Casper, too. I couldn’t stop kissing Ry.
But when I did- when I came up for air, Casper was right there at my arm.
“Hey listen, I did something. I didn’t mean for it to- happen like this, but, well, shit, I’m sorry,” Casper said. His voice was strained.
“Huh?” I said.
Casper elbowed closer, showing me his phone. “Can you hear it?” he said, clicking up the volume.
It was one of his songs. He was on stage, singing.
“Oh, cool,” I said. I glanced up at him, smiling, but Casper just looked at me, his face unreadable, waiting for me to watch the rest of his video.
When I looked down again, I saw why. He’d cut the footage with shots from our day with Chandler and Beren on the beach.
Running together in the surf, me wandering around topless by myself, Casper coming down the dunes towards me. It was all there. Even that strange, stray little kiss he’d planted on me.
I moved my mouth soundlessly. My whole body turned to rubber.
Had he planned the whole thing? Artistically, I saw the temptation. It all looked so spontaneous, so natural.
Four million views.
The tiny screen cut again to a full shot of Casper Graham’s handsome, traitorous face, singing his sad, pretty, lying little song.
It was a living knife, aimed straight at Ry’s heart.
Casper’s voice babbled at me in real time from miles away. “I asked them to send me any pictures, any video they had. They didn’t know what I was doing. I didn’t know what I was doing, Lily, I’m sorry, I just couldn’t stop myself. We had something there.”
“Yeah, we did,” I said to him numbly, moving away. What. the fuck. “Key word, did. Past tense. Excuse me.”
“Lily, wait!”
I burst outside. Ry beamed at me automatically, but his smile fell away when he saw the stricken look on my face.
“Baby, what’s wrong?” he said.
“There’s- a video.”
“It’s okay, honey, that stuff flares and fades away, it’s early in Dad’s campaign,” Ry said.
“There’s another video,” I whispered.
“What do you mean?”
Casper erupted outside behind me. “Guys, it’s fine, this doesn’t have to be a problem-”
Ry’s eyes didn’t leave mine. “Lily, what’s going on?”
“She’s in my music video, man. I should have asked her first-”
“Sounds like a lawsuit, bub,” Ry said, coldly. “What’s on this video?”
I didn’t answer him.
Casper looked slapped. “Uh…”
Ry turned away, pulling out his phone. He paused, as if he’d watch it there, but then he slid his phone back into his pocket and left.
I couldn’t blame him.
“Are you…” Casper said to me, quietly.
“No. I get it.” I turned to him. “You’re fucked up. And you fucked my whole life up. But I get it. You’re an artist, so fuck everybody else, right? You’ve got to express yourself.”
“You’re famous now, Lily,” he said.
I slapped him. “And fuck you for that.”
Ry had almost disappeared into the dark.
I ran after him, my heels skittering on loose pieces of asphalt. “Wait,” I said. “Wait!”
He didn’t slow down. But neither did I.
I was in love. I loved everything about Ry. I wasn’t about to just fade into the background without a fight.
I grabbed him and spun him around, made him look at me. Even in my high heels, Ry was still so much taller than me- so much bigger than me- that I felt it as a physical blow when I realized his eyes were wet.
Oh, Ry. The last person in the world I ever wanted to hurt.
“Maybe it’s my turn to prove myself to you,” I said, softly.
“Lily,” he said.
That was all he had to say. I wrapped my arms around him.
After a beat, his arms answered mine. “I won’t watch it, if you don’t want me to,” he said, stiffly.
“It’s not that bad,” I said. “But I want you to see the uncut footage first, so you understand what happened. What Casper did.”
“I think I already understand,” Ry said. “I still want you. I still want this. But it’s going to be hard now. Do you understand? I know it isn’t your fault. I believe you. I don’t know why, but I do...”
I nodded. I fitted my face to his chest, letting him rock me there gently.
“It’s kind of funny,” I said, laughing a little. “I mean, in a horrible way… how all this shit keeps happening to us…”
“We’ve just got to hold on tight, Lily,” he said.
It was something Steve would say. Then I was the one crying.
Ry tilted my chin up. “Hey, girl. You amazing, amazing, batshit-crazy girl. I’m head over heels in love with you.”
“I love you, too,” I said. “You fucking asshole.”
“We’re horrible people,” he agreed, “just rotten.” He kissed me.
The next day I had to sign for a package from the UPS man. Inside the package was a $150,000 check from Casper Graham’s label, and a note.
“Welcome to Hollywood,” it said. “You did great.”
I sank down onto the floor, so overwhelmed I couldn’t hold my mouth closed. Holy. Shit. My eyes kept swiping back and forth over the check, thinking that maybe I’d missed a comma somewhere in all those numerals- surely it was just for $150 or something?
Maybe money can’t buy you love, but it sure can make you feel a hell of a lot better.
First of all, I called Divine Catering and told them I’d be happy to work on an as-needed basis, but they didn’t need to feel obligated to put me on the weekly schedule if someone else needed hours more. Then I called Steve, I called Beren, I called Hazel.
Last of all, I called Ry. “I want to take you out on the town,” I said. “Let me spoil you for a change.”
“I won’t hear of it,” he said. “But congratulations. You want to come over for dinner? I, uh…” he cleared his throat. “I want you to meet my parents.”
“Do they like crazy people?” I said, still shooting with happiness.
“Not really. But they’ll love yo
u. I think.”
“Ha ha.”
“Pick you up at seven.”
~!~
Strangely, I was almost beginning to feel at home at the Calhoun mansion. After all, I’d marked my territory… ha ha. Even though the prospect of having dinner with Ry’s weird, ice-cold father made me a nervous, with Ry at my side I thought I could handle it.
“Hi, Geordi,” I said, as Ry and I came through the side door into the familiar hush of the mansion’s interior.
The Calhoun’s family butler had answered the side door as if by magic. Geordi dipped his head, sweeping us into the house with a showman’s relish.
“Good evening, Miss Lily,” he said. The genuinely warm smile he gave me prompted me to curtsy at him.
Geordi laughed, delighted, as he picked up the beautiful silver platter he must have been carrying when he heard us step softly onto the side porch.
“This way, you two,” he said, glancing down merrily. “We’ll be serving bacon wrapped scallops and stuffed snow peas for starters…”
“Oh wow,” I said. “It looks wonderful.”
“We’ll be right there,” Ry said. He hadn’t let go of my hand since helping me out of the car, and now he held it between both of his as he turned to me. “There’s something you might like to see…”
I grinned up at him like a stupefied idiot. “Okay,” I whispered.
He led me up the stairs as Geordi, smiling, went the opposite way towards the parlor.
I ran my hand up the silky bannister, marveling at the detail of the beautifully grained wood beneath my hand. “See how wide the panels are here?” Ry said, unself-consciously pointing out the wooden panels at either side of the sweeping staircase. “Our house was built back when the trees in South Carolina were enormous. They were so plentiful then that no one thought about cutting them down.”
I kissed him. “It’s beautiful and terrible.”
“Like all my favorite things,” Ry said, warmly.
“What do you mean!”
“I mean you’re eating my heart on a stick, smiling at me like that.” Ry lifted me up against him, trapping me in his arms. I felt his heartbeat against mine as we sank into another swirling kiss.
We smiled at each other almost shyly, our faces so close I heard him catch his breath. I loved even that about him: the very air in his lungs.
“You make me so happy,” I said, quietly.
“I never want to stop.”
Ry’s bedroom was, predictably, adorable. Everything was just as it been when he’d gone off to school at seventeen, and the seventeen year old Ry had been apparently quite a reader. The walls were panelled with bookshelves, and a comfortable leather club chair was plugged into one corner of the well-lit room. A Navajo blanket was thrown over its arm artfully, playing up the colors of the paintings hung on the walls. Each one had been carefully chosen to create a mood that was powerfully dark, male and intense. Best of all, everything smelled like him. Lemony sandalwood, leather and warm books…
But oh my god, his bed.
“This has to be the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen,” I said, laughing, throwing myself into it.
Because Ry’s bed was a king-sized hamburger. It was round and fluffy, with a huge sesame bun for a comforter, red and green pillows, complete sheets made to look as if they were slices of cheese, meat and lettuce. “You are insane!”
“My parents hate it,” Ry said, grinning, staring down at me. “You look pretty good in it, though.”
I giggled up at him. And threw a pillow-shaped piece of relish at his head.
Ry dove onto me, tickling my neck with his rough, delicious stubble. We rolled around, laughing, sinking deeply into the goose down comforter.
The bed was as ridiculously comfortable as it was silly- it was heavenly soft. Soon we fell quiet, kissing deeply. The bed rustled (had he ever done this here before, here in his burger? I wondered) as Ry shifted against me, his powerful hands fitting to my breasts with startling need. But any jealous thoughts I had burned away as Ry began to kiss me more wildly.
“Jesus, Lily…” Ry’s voice was low and gravelled. He turned me slightly onto my side, raising one muscled thigh between my own, teasing me with his hot, hard proximity.
One big hand sank between us, slipping down the front of my pants. I hadn’t realized how wet, how ready I was. Ry’s fingers were rough and firm, drenched with me.
“You’re so, so wet, sweetheart,” he murmured, watching me respond to him. I cried out against his shoulder. Ry’s eyes darkened with heat.
Abruptly, the soft music that had been playing in the background on his laptop changed to a Skype tone, ringing. He laughed softly, moving back.
“Maybe, someday,” he said, sexily, “our kids can have a bed that looks like a sandwich.”
“What? Double what?”
Still laughing, Ry leapt up to answer the ringing. “It’s my sister,” he said, over his shoulder; “she’s calling us from Costa Rica.”
I bolted upright, embarrassed, as he accepted the call. Instantly, a woman’s smiling face appeared on the screen. I reddened as if she’d caught us in flagrante, frantically smoothing down my clothes.
If his sister noticed, her reaction didn’t affect her serene expression. She was swinging gently in a hammock, holding her phone up above her head. Dark jungle leaves were visible behind her. I remembered her face from the wedding, of course. Her wedding.
“Lily!” the young bride said, smiling towards me. “You’re the only thing Ry talks about anymore, I couldn’t wait any longer to meet you! I’m Mary.”
“Yes, hi!” I said, awkwardly. I zipped over to the desk, leaning down to the screen. “Wow-uh, where are you?” I said.
Oops. Costa Rica. I already knew that, but couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“Oh,” Mary rolled her hand. “Costa Rica. Hubby’s taking a nap. We’re doing a round-the-world for our honeymoon.” Mary grinned hugely. “It’s been amazing, not gonna lie. So you kids are having a family dinner tonight, huh? Oh boy, I am sorry in advance.”
“What do you-”
“Oh, she’ll be all right,” Ry said, looking over at me fondly.
“Heh, our dad can be kind of a dick,” Mary said. “Unless,” she lifted her hand theatrically, “you get him talking about history. He loves history. It’s his favorite thing. Especially Charleston history. Get him rambling, and you’re golden.” She winked at me sunnily. “But don’t take it personally if he’s, you know. A dick. That’s his thing.”
“Oh… good.”
“Ha ha, don’t worry. You’ll have fun, and anyway it’ll be delicious, right? Wish I was with you guys tonight. It’s soft shell crab season there...” Then a sleepy man’s voice called to her off from the side. “Just a sec, babe! Well dolls, that’s my cue. Bye, you two. Don’t have too much fun.”
“Love you, baby sis,” Ry said to her, sweetly.
Mary blew us kisses and the screen went black. Music filtered back on as Ry took my shoulders in his warm hands.
He kissed my forehead gently. “Ready for dinner?” he said.
“Now I’m nervous,” I said.
“Don’t be. Tell you what, if you get nervous, just wait for a pause in the conversation and go, “So! I’ve heard a lot of these houses were occupied by soldiers during the war…” My dad will be off to the races, you’ll see. It’s cake.”
“Cake,” I repeated. But I glanced longingly back towards his bed. If only we could stay up here instead! “But not burger cake.”
“Burger cake is for dessert,” Ry said, winking at me. “For good-bad girls.”
“Ah… that I can be...”
The dinner was as awkward as promised. At least everything was delicious. We’d started with appetizers in the parlor, just Ry, his mother and I. She smiled at me calmly and asked me how I liked Charleston. After that, it was up to me to carry the conversation. As I chattered with her, the room was so quiet I was self-conscious chewing. Finally I gave
up making any attempts at the delicious appetizers.
At long last,Geordi swept us into the dining room, where a professional cook served us softshell crab on soft beds of lettuce and vegetables. I’d only had soft shell crab once before, with Steve at a big dinner for the firefighters in Columbia, South Carolina. Thankfully I knew you were supposed to eat every last bit of the crab, including its swimmer fins.
I cut my serving up carefully, trying to use my silverware as soundlessly as the Calhouns. They all ate so gracefully that their movements looked choreographed. I’d never felt so self-conscious.
I could almost understand why Mrs. Calhoun kept steadily drinking her gin and tonics. The staff kept filling her glass unobtrusively, but it was obvious she was drinking heavily.
And that she was used to it. Even though we were only halfway through dinner, I calculated she’d probably already had at least five drinks, and who knows how many beforehand? Yet she remained beautiful and almost entirely soundless, like an expensive purebred cat.
Mr. Calhoun’s gaze was as remote as if he were a stuffed carnival toy in an expensive suit; he hardly seemed present at all. I wondered what men like him thought about. Men like him wanted you to think they were preoccupied with something important, but people only act snooty when they’ve got something to hide.
The thought make me grin to myself wickedly as I stabbed a potato onto my fork. Then I shot a naughty glance over at Ry, unable to resist. He blushed!
I felt myself begin to turn warm, too.
He moved one hand stealthily down to my lap, caressing my thighs. He stroked me knowingly, his fingers light and teasing against the fabric of my dress pants, drawing all my nerve endings up to exquisite heights. Then his hand began to tighten roughly, his fingers seeking hungrily down between my legs.
I caught my breath and then made an awkward throat clearing noise to try to hide it. Startled, Mrs. Calhoun set her cocktail glass down a little too hard on the dinner table, rattling the silverware. Her husband shot her a murderously sharp glance.
Ry’s mom blinked. Her pupils looked loose and slightly too large, like broken drops of ink. Next to me, Ry stiffened with concern. “How you doing, mom?”