Forever Distraction

by Stephanie Jean

  I thought about other ways to deal with my frustration-slash-boredom. It was either not talk, or speak in metaphors, which would completely piss Smith off, so I would definitely have to try it. Right now though, I was utterly silent, and I was curious how long I could go without actually speaking. We had traveled from Louisiana to New York, and now we were back in Los Angeles walking around one of the proposed projects, men everywhere sizing up the place and spouting off possible ideas. Brian was in the center of it. He had an assistant scribbling down notes, while he snapped a few photos. I just observed, like the quiet girl I grew up to be.

  Moving away from the herd, I took out the camera my grandfather bought me years before and began capturing my own pictures. The school that stood in place was no longer useable. It was condemned and needed a complete overhaul. The city closed it down after a fire started and claimed the lives of children and teachers. It gave me chills to think about the unsuspecting people who were trapped inside while the large fire consumed the building and crushed the school.

  My brother finished with the men and moved back to the SUV that waited for us. I knew he had other business to attend to. He had been glued to his computer since we left California. He reminded me of my grandfather in so many ways. He didn’t speak much either, but what he did say was heard loud and clear. Brian made things happen; he was a doer. I respected him more and more.

  I took my time gathering my own information. Where was the most damage to the school? Where could the people inside retreat to in case of another emergency? I studied the play area and the fields for baseball and basketball. I took pictures of the surrounding rundown housing and apartments in the area, trying to gauge the needs of the residents who lived close by. My brother’s hand on my elbow interrupted my investigation process. “It’s time to leave, Kat.”

  I narrowed my eyes, calling him nonverbally, ‘Mr. Bossy Man’. Who invited him anyway? I yanked my arm away from his hold and bit my tongue. He raised his hands up dramatically in an ‘I surrender’ kind of way because of my jerky movement, and then sidestepped around me. My eyes fixed on his shiny, Italian, black shoes.

  “What’s your deal, Kat?” he hissed, and I wanted to mimic his statement so bad it physically hurt. I fisted my hands at the sides of my black dress and shuffled my feet behind him.

  When we reached the large, black vehicle, he stepped back, allowing me to get in. Owen and Father Nickels sat up front with Smith Three, and Smith Two was positioned at the other door. Brian eased in next to me and wedged me between him and my father. I lifted my head to scan the faces around me, making a mental note to take my own vehicle next time. The look on the impatient males around me made my breathing speed up as the head of my angry twin begged me to step aside and let her set these arrogant men straight. I was in charge, this was my foundation now, and my money was pouring into this project. I stuffed all of my furious pride down like it was my lunch and I was full from it, and then I gazed into the eyes of the self-important, pretentious people around me and flashed a practiced smile.

  This is my last day with them, I repeated in my head. My plan was to return to Washington in a couple days and take care of my grandfather’s belongings. What these men thought of me made no difference; I felt the same way about them. It was amusing; if my grandfather was here, he would have guarded me from their spiteful looks, but I rather enjoyed that they were bothered by me. I stuck my chin up, looked over my brother’s computer toward the window, and watched the scenery change.

  Conversation flowed around me like I wasn’t there. I even heard talk about women they ‘screwed’ from the night before, which I found extremely rude and couldn’t help the glare I gave to the construction owner giving us his gory details. He didn’t stop; instead, he turned toward my father and asked him if he was going to the club tonight, reminding him it was the last night of a three-day Halloween celebration. He eyed me, attempting to intimidate me the entire time he spoke to my father. It was his way of putting me in my place in this male dominated world. I wondered for a moment why my father didn’t speak up and defend me, or point out my presence, but then I remembered my father was just like him.

  I bit my lips together, fighting the angry twin, because this man, this arrogant, ill-mannered, crude man was getting on my last nerve. I balled my hands and clamped down harder on my lips, causing refreshing pain to blossom around my face, just to avoid the harsh words of disapproval that were dying to spill out, and I glared at him. My eye twitched, and I pictured gluing his mouth shut, because he continued to monopolize the conversation while staring me head-on, nonverbally telling me to fuck off, bow down, or whatever submissive way he fantasized I would indulge him.

  When the vehicle finally pulled over and stopped, I pushed past Brian, eager to exit the car first. I smoothed my dress, calming myself, counting…and then went for a little walk, my security team scurrying behind me. I only heard grunts with an underlying ‘hold up’, but I was irritated, pissed, and trapped, and the thought of sitting with these people any longer grated on my mind and my nerves.

  “Ms. Covington, please wait.” I didn’t. I figured if my voice couldn’t be heard, neither could theirs. Smith’s firm hand grabbed my arm, gaining control over my temporary escape. “They have reservations for lunch, Ms. Covington. Don’t make them wait again.”

  I eyed him slowly, confused by Smith and his motives. I could normally calculate someone’s purpose, but not with Smith. He didn’t need a job, and he already had two daughters and a doting wife at home, so he didn’t need family. I thought back to the night four months ago when I left. I used my old bodyguard, found out he really wanted to be on the beach somewhere surfing and I made his dream come true. He disappeared the same day as me. I gave him a nice bonus for removing the five GPS devices Smith had hidden throughout my Mercedes.

  I deceived Smith by letting him believe I was asleep, but it was actually Heather. She wore a black wig and slept in my bed that night. She met me in the morning at Smith’s daughter’s school. I slipped his daughter my iPod in return for her silence. I needed her to deliver an apology letter to Smith that was stuffed with cash. I wondered if he knew I would leave again; all that work he spent on keeping me safe, and I would leave without a second thought.

  And that was it…here we were, both battling for control. He wanted to stick me in a box with those people. Box…restaurant, same difference. Why? Why did he care about me? I glared into his dark sunglasses and stern facial features, and crossed my arms over my chest. He lifted his shades and his eyes took on a soft, pleading appearance, and I was defeated. I moved toward the door of the restaurant, attempting to gather my elegance. A seat was saved for me at the end of the table next to my brother, and I noticed my father on the other side of him. I crossed the room with my shoulders back and head held high. I was becoming a man-hater, and I didn’t normally let anything get to the point of hate.

  I zoned out after that; I didn’t even listen to the conversation. I didn’t order anything either. I just sat and drank my ice cold water. Laughter spilled from the table behind us, and I noticed a group of women drinking wine and talking intimately. I smiled when they glanced at the table I sat at. One of the ladies nodded, mouthing, ‘I am jealous.’ I looked back to the table and around at the very attractive, rich men, and all I could think was that I would rather be sitting at her table.

  I glanced at Smith a couple feet away from me. He looked exhausted. I stood from the table and strolled over to where he was standing, not ready to break my silent strike, so I nodded instead. “Ready?” he asked, and I blinked in agreement. He signaled Smith Three to bring the car around. If I was speaking, I would have asked why I didn’t have my own car earlier. I would have to shelf that question for a later day.

  The sound of my heels on the marble flooring echoed around the table as I approached it to leave. I raised my hand to wave and flashed a friendly smile to the men who I knew were essential to the foundation, making the dreams of my grandfather a real
ity. I knew they saw me as a joke, but I didn’t let that influence my gratefulness at how hard everyone worked to make things happen. I nodded at my father and my brother separately, and then followed Smith to the exit where the car was waiting.

  “How long are you going to go without talking?” Smith tossed out as I passed him getting into the car. I thought about surprising him with some witty words, but I didn’t. He was tired, and I was feeling extra cranky.

  We reached the mansion just outside of the city and Smith helped me out. I moved inside, quickly putting my workout clothes on. I observed Smith physically flinch when I walked out of my room. He had been chasing me for days, and judging by the look on his face, he was ready to set me free. I bypassed him, crossing the main house to the ground floor into the gym located by the garage. I didn’t see his face, but I heard the loud sigh that escaped his lips.

  I used the rowing machine first and then the treadmill, running from the looks of the men in the car, running from the fact my grandfather gifted me the foundation and running because my mind was filled with so much junk and I desperately wanted to get away from it.

  A sandwich, red apple, cookies, and a glass of water on a tray were resting on my bed when I stepped out of the shower. I managed to miss breakfast and lunch because my appetite was nonexistent, but now, as I slipped the turkey sandwich between my lips, I found my body completely starving. I sat down with my towel wrapped around my body and ate…everything. I dressed in the clothes laid out for me, a pinstriped business skirt and a plain, white silk shirt. I finished getting ready before I emerged from my room.

  Brian was in the seating area in the back of the house buried in his computer when I passed, carrying my tray to the kitchen. He glanced up, and I was conscious of his eyes following me. I ended up in the kitchen with Smith Two on my heels. I needed a new fixation, a new hobby. I glanced around the large kitchen, taking in the space and all the brand new appliances, and that was when I decided I was going to bake.

  By the time the cook came into the kitchen to start dinner, I had made three pies and two more were in the oven. My outfit was ruined; I had blackberries on my white silk shirt and flour all over the smart skirt I wore. I fully grinned when the cook gasped at my outfit. I cut a piece of pie for her and she tasted it. She returned my smile. “Very good, sweetheart.”

  I melted a little; no one had ever called me that. The cook was in her early sixties. She was short like me, with a sprinkling of gray throughout her dark brown, short, curly hair. Her brown eyes were warm and her face had the cutest freckles. She had been my grandfather’s cook, and now she was mine. She traveled with him everywhere, and it was fun to see that look in her eye, the one that told me she loved my pie. She immediately cut into the next one, making the same face. I cut Smith Two a piece to thank him silently for his two trips to the store and walked it over to him. His eyes were hazy, like he was close to falling asleep. He cautiously took the pie and eyed the cook before taking a large bite. I watched his eyes roll back and a large smile spread across his face.

  “Thanks.” It was a whisper, but I heard him clearly. I left the kitchen after I pulled the last two pies out and headed back to my room for another shower. I passed Brian on the way back, and he was shouting into the phone about shipping and ‘getting it there’. He did a double take when he saw my outfit, but continued his rant into the phone.

  I fell asleep after my shower. Dreams of my grandfather always started, and then the claustrophobic feeling of being locked in the closet for hours took over. I woke disoriented and grabbed my robe to pad in my slippers to the kitchen.

  I tripped over Brian sitting right outside my bedroom door. He held his laptop and set it aside while he helped me up.

  “I heard your voice.” His blue eyes locked with mine. “You were calling for me.” I didn’t know what to say; I wasn’t going to talk about my nightmares…with anyone. “Anyway, I came just in case you needed me, but when I opened the door, you were sleeping. I waited here just I case you called for me again.”

  I pulled my robe tight around me, attempting to create a shield as he trailed behind me all the way to the kitchen. I pivoted on my toes after I set the kettle on the burner, and he had his computer in front of him again, sitting at the table. It dawned on me for the first time that he really cared about me. I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned against the counter, observing the widow’s peak of his black, thick, short hair until I heard the sound that my hot water was ready. I snagged two mugs from the cupboard and poured hot water in each. I plopped in the tea bags and made my way back over to my brother. I set it in front of him, and he peeked up at me with a grin. His eyes reached into mine and I felt something.

  “Do you know why I am supposed to marry Tommy?” I blurted out and Brian’s eyes widened, possibly just surprised to hear my voice. “It’s maddening.” I took a calming sip of my hot tea. “He doesn’t care if I don’t talk…come to think of it, nobody cares if I talk.” It was more of a mumble, and then I cleared my voice. “Why didn’t Grandfather tell me he was dying? Why did he leave me everything?” I knew I was rambling, and I knew by the shocked look in Brian’s eyes he was overwhelmed at my outburst of questions, but I continued, “I’m rich and powerful, but people treat me like a child, a spoiled little girl, and I’m sick of it”.

  It had been close to four days without a word, and now my brain and my mouth were finally free. “I need to stop thinking, Brian; that’s all I do, think.” Brian was wide-eyed, and I knew he thought about things like I did. I knew he understood me. “I think I need to have sex.” He blinked, and the moment passed slowly as he continued to deliberately blink…and blink. “When’s the last time you had sex?” I asked, and his response was another blink, and then the shift of his eyes. “That’s the only time my mind is free.”

  I closed my eyes thinking about sex with Jason, how yummy he was; maybe I should call him, and maybe I could forgive what an asshole he was for one day just to have as much sex with him as possible. My eyes fluttered open and my older brother remained silent, only our eyes communicating. He was telling me to grow up; I was telling him he was bossy. I broke our eye contact and took another drink, Brian’s eyes burning straight through me. I cleared my throat and continued, “Why are you here?” I returned his intimidating stare, challenging him to answer.

  “I told you; you had a bad dream and called out to me.” He smoothed the napkin in front of him before he laced his hand around the mug slowly, cautiously, and that was when I knew he was lying. His actions were methodical, practiced, and deliberate, a Covington trait.

  “No, I mean why did you come here? Don’t you live an hour from here?”

  He remained calm and cool, totally in control, but I saw a flicker of regret in his eyes and it gave him away. I was close to the truth, and he was nervous because of it. “I missed you.” He flashed me a devilish smile and I had to laugh. He was attempting to manipulate me with the words he thought I wanted to hear.

  “Bullshit. Don’t forget I know you better than anyone else, and you’re lying. Don’t waste your time talking if you’re going to lie to me. I can turn it off just like you, big brother, so don’t fuck with me.”

  It was his turn to laugh; his body relaxed, and he looked at me with something different, something resembling respect. “You make pie now?”

  What the hell? “Don’t change the subject.” Avoidance and diversion were other Covington skills.

  “I am just pointing out people can change. You make pies and I want to get to know my sister. I need to know her and protect her.” I studied his eyes for a long time, searching for something, but he was neutral and fully composed.

  “Right,” I spoke, breaking the ominous silence. “Do you know why I am supposed to marry Tommy?”

  “That’s your question. Maybe you should ask if I think you should marry Thomas.”

  I didn’t want to know what he thought about that. My eyes shifted around the room as silence engulfed us. “I’m going
out.” I hopped up, loving the idea of freedom. I was disappointed with Brian’s lack of enthusiasm. It was frustrating no one thought I could take care of myself. “I’m going to grab Smith Two. I’ll catch up with you in the morning.” I tossed him a waved over my shoulder while exiting the kitchen.

  I stopped in the hall to text Smith Two on the way to my bedroom. I was dressed and ready to go in fifteen minutes. I grabbed a tiny red dress from my closet, put on black heels, and threw my hair in a loose bun. I met him outside the door to my bedroom. He wore a suit and a thin black tie.

  “Go change; this is pleasure. You’re not on the clock.” His eyes widened, his brow raised, and then a crease in his right cheek followed a half-smile. His gray eyes fell and skimmed my dress, but he remained motionless. “That’s okay,” I whispered as my hands found a path up the front of his white dress shirt covering his chest, slipping under his jacket at his thick shoulders and flicking it off. The jacket fell heavily with a loud thump to the ground. He must have had his pockets full of metal. He stood completely frozen, which made me smile.

  My body was pressed against his, and there was something so familiar about his strong, hard body, which made me feel alive. Maybe it was his heat or the constantly flexing muscles, but there was something I was at home with about the feel of his body. I removed his black tie next, tugging and pulling it slowly. His face was so close to mine I thought about what it would be like to kiss him. Smith Two had a military background, and his buzz cut and serious, hard face reminded me of someone ready for combat. I lifted the tie off his neck and over his head. His kind eyes found mine as I unbuttoned the first two buttons of his dress shirt.

  “That’s much better,” I breathed, giving him a very seductive smile as he licked his full lips. I handed him his tie and bent over to retrieve his weighted-down, fallen jacket. He turned and marched to the bedroom down the hall, placed the items inside the door, and then returned to my side. I watched his quiet movements. His body was full of power and confidence. I immediately felt heat spread everywhere throughout my body. I missed that feeling; I took a moment to soak up that intoxicating high.