by Kira Blakely
Vincent was sitting back in his chair, with his arms crossed over his chest. He was smiling proudly at me. When our eyes met, I was thankful and surprisingly, he looked thankful, too. As though he was thankful for the decision I had made. He had given me one last opportunity to push him away, but I hadn’t. I was clinging on to him, because we both knew the truth. We couldn’t live a moment apart. Since we had first met, we had developed an instant addiction for each other. There was no escaping it now.
“You’re moving to LA!” Mom was talking too loudly now, excited and happy.
“And you should come visit us,” Vincent suggested, laughing with her.
“Can you imagine? Dan and I have been on an airplane only once before. What a treat!” Mom was saying, beaming at Dad.
I hadn’t seen them this happy in several years. They were thrilled for me, for themselves and at how unexpectedly everything just seemed to be working out. Vincent and I had our eyes locked on each other again. No, my fairytale wasn’t ending, it had only just begun.
Six months later
Gemma
I blinked at myself in the mirror in our bedroom. The same room where I had woken up on the carpet six months before, wondering if it was going to be my last morning with Vincent. Now, I couldn’t believe that this was the place I called home.
I had just finished putting on a bright pink lipstick, which clashed with my still-pale complexion. Surprisingly, I hadn’t tanned yet in the harsh LA sun. I’d set my hair to cascade in curls around my shoulders. For the evening, I had selected an A-line black cocktail dress. Black pumps for my feet and a thin set of diamonds for my neck. Vincent had surprised me with the necklace only a week ago, when we were celebrating my graduation.
I placed the lipstick back in its box on the dressing table, and I took in a deep breath. This was our first time entertaining as a couple. I had insisted that we do this, and that I cook everything from scratch. Neither Tim nor our full-time cook were allowed to help. I’d spent the whole afternoon cooking an elaborate three-course meal, and now Tim was laying it all out on the dining table downstairs.
I heard the door open behind me, and Vincent walked in.
“They’ve arrived downstairs, Gem,” he said, walking briskly over to me. We were looking at each other in the mirror, as he placed his large hands on my shoulders. Vincent looked handsome, in a crisp blue shirt and black dress pants. Crystal cufflinks shone at his wrists, I’d picked them out for him to match my necklace.
“You look beautiful,” he said tenderly, placing a kiss on the top of my head. I smiled at him in the mirror. I’d been living in LA for six months now, and yet I was still nervous. I still had fleeting images in my head of the scene at the party. How I’d just hitched up my dress, kicked off my heels and run out. Facing the four of them again was going to be a real exercise of bravery, but I was determined to do it. They were Vincent's best friends. I couldn’t avoid them for the rest of my life.
“Wish me luck,” I said, standing up to face him.
He towered over me, his dark hair curling at the bottom edges, behind his neck. His eyes twinkled as he looked at me. I knew what he was thinking; he was already undressing me with his eyes. I bit down on my bottom lip and suppressed a smile.
“You don’t need luck. They love you already because I love you,” Vincent said and gave me his hands. Our fingers interlaced and, hand in hand, we stepped out of the bedroom.
Tim was in the process of taking their jackets at the bottom of the stairs.
“Ah, Gemma!” Lily looked up at us with her kind blue eyes. She was more casually dressed today, in a long floral dress with lace sleeves. She had her arm entwined with Casper.
“Hi, Lily… everyone,” I said, smiling with burning ruddy cheeks as we descended the stairs in a rush.
Nash and Bonnie were smiling at us, too, and we all exchanged tight hugs. I was relieved to find that none of them appeared to be awkward. I was still conscious of our previous meeting, I was desperate to please them, desperate to make them see that I deserved Vincent.
“Gemma’s slaved away all day cooking for us,” Vincent said, thumping Nash on his back.
“See, Casper, you really should let me cook!” Lily said, to which Bonnie and Vincent laughed.
“In our house, it’s Nash who does all the cooking. I honestly never have time,” Bonnie said, rolling her eyes. Vincent was leading us into the living room already, where Tim was mixing cocktails at the bar and pouring whiskey for the men.
“I don’t think I’ve visited your house before, Vincent. It’s lovely,” Bonnie said, walking beside me.
I could feel that familiar feeling of anxiety rushing up inside me. Even if nobody was mentioning it, I knew they were all thinking it. That awkward moment when I darted out of the room without any explanation. They were speaking amongst each other, but I wasn’t paying attention anymore, all I could think about was how embarrassed I was, how I had embarrassed Vincent in front of his friends that day.
Tim was now handing out drinks to us from trays, while Vincent offered chairs to our guests. Eventually, it was just him and me standing.
“Come, sit with us.” Lily patted the seat next to her, where Bonnie was sitting on the other side. I tried to paste a smile on my face as I walked over to her and sat down between them. I still felt intimidated by their presence, by the knowledge that these people knew Vincent more intimately, for longer, than I knew him.
Vincent smiled at me, as he sat across from us, closer to his best friends.
“So, Gemma. Give us all the gossip. Tell us everything.” Bonnie leaned in toward me. I turned to her and gulped, but Lily was speaking again. The two of them looked happy, thrilled. Their excitement was infectious. I could see that they were dying to discuss something they had been curious about for some time and hadn’t had the opportunity to talk with me about before.
“Yeah, you go first and then we’ll fill you in on our story,” Lily said with a laugh. I was staring at them, looking from Lily to Bonnie and back to Lily again. What did they even mean by that? What story did they want to hear? Also, what story did they have to tell me?
“Oh, I see Vincent has told you nothing. The three of us have one thing in common, Gemma,” Bonnie said, grabbing my hand in hers. She was patting my hand like she was about to give me some bad news. Uh oh, here it comes. She’s going to disclose something about Vincent that is going to ruin everything for me. Am I his mistress? Are we three mistresses to these three men? Does Vincent have a wife who I don’t know about? My nervousness didn’t put anything past the man I was in love with. I was ready to expect the worst.
“We were all in the same boat once, not very long ago,” Bonnie added, and the smile on her face put me at ease, somewhat.
“Yeah, we were each bad for their business,” Lily said with a loud magnetic laugh.
“So, Saturday brunch at my place?” Bonnie said, giving me a hug before she leaned over to hug Lily.
“See you then.” I smiled at her, before hugging Lily myself.
It was two in the morning, and we were all a little drunk, but nobody had wanted the party to end.
“It was great meeting you, Gemma,” Casper said and I turned to find him engulfing me in a tight bear hug. Nash came over to hug me at the same time, and I was squashed between both men now.
“Yeah, glad we all got to know each other. Vincent has been hiding you from us for too long,” Nash added.
“I tried, for as long as I could. Keeping Gemma’s best interests in mind, of course.” Vincent had come over and placed a hand on the small of my back. When the other two released me, I snuggled into Vincent's arm.
The two couples had come with their own chauffeur-driven cars, and now they were waving as they got into their respective ones. Six months ago, I wouldn’t have ever imagined that I would have friends like these. That people like them could be nice people. Down to Earth, warm and so welcoming.
Vincent and I waved back as the two cars drove away,
and he drew me closer to him.
“Alone at last,” he said, wrapping his long muscular arms around me. I placed my head on his chest, a smile appearing on my face. I was tired, my feet hurt from wearing heels for so long, but I had never felt happier than I did tonight. Six months, and it had finally sunk in; this was actually my life. All of this was happening to me, for real.
“Your friends are lovely, and Lily and Bonnie are terrific,” I said, my voice muffled by his chest as he held me close to himself.
“They are, aren’t they? I could tell that they like you. Their little girl gang is strengthened in number now,” Vincent said, moving his hands down to my waist now.
Soft tunes were floating outside through the open window of the living room. Someone had turned on the vintage gramophone in the room, and now Nat King Cole’s “Unforgettable” was on. Vincent had started swaying gently, forcing me to sway with him.
“Kick off those heels,” he said when I looked up at him, my face shining and bright with utter happiness.
I was only too pleased to take my shoes off. Now, barefoot, I stepped on Vincent's polished black shoes as he led me in a slow dance to the love song. He looked handsome, smelled great, and he made me feel warm and safe in his arms as we danced.
“Do you think I’ll get into med school?” I asked.
“If your college results are anything to go by, yes, you will,” Vincent said.
I smiled, proud of what I had achieved. I couldn’t have achieved any of that without Vincent's help or his support. My job at his company was good; it helped me learn and feel more passionately about medicine. Also, importantly, it had helped me pay off all my family’s debts and now I was in the process of helping my parents find a new house to rent in Carlow Ridge.
No trailer park for them anymore; no tattered armchair either. Dad’s medical bills were all being taken care of by Vincent, and my family couldn’t be happier. Their daughter had done well for herself. I was working hard, and I had the support of a kind and generous man.
I stroked Vincent's arm with my cheek, and he gripped my waist tighter. I could feel the warmth of his body now, as our feet worked slowly with the rhythm of the song. This was what happiness looked like. Who would have imagined it?
“Thank you for everything,” I said, suddenly breaking the silence and looking up at Vincent. He had been paying attention to the music, but now he turned his eyes on me.
“I should be thanking you, Gem. You saved me from making the worst decision of my life, marrying someone for the sake of my parents. I chose you, and you chose to be with me, too. I have never been happier,” Vincent said, and he scooped me up for a kiss. He was holding me up by my waist and my feet weren’t touching his shoes any more. I was like a rag doll in his hands, and he could do as he pleased with me.
I was laughing as he kissed me, uncontrollably, because I didn’t need to hold back my happiness any longer. There was no need to. It was okay to be happy.
I would never have to work in a diner again. I would never have to build castles in the air. All my dreams were coming true, and then some. All because my tire blew and a handsome man offered to fix it for me. And especially because I didn’t let him.
The End
Casper
I wasn’t looking for anything when the sassy redhead, Lily Fitz, led a protest against my company. I’m not used to women resisting me. Most women aim to impress me. Not Lily. And now, I can’t resist her. I want her. I need her. But how do you tame a wild animal? So, I did the only thing I could. I had her arrested.
I held my protest sign as high up as I could, but it obviously wasn’t high enough. My friend Marla would have been quick to point out that was because of my slight height, which she, being my best friend, has never allowed me to live down. I clutched the edges of the neon poster board with my hands and held it over my head, aware that the glitter and pink letters didn’t exactly look like they belonged to someone who was twenty-eight.
“You stand tall despite your proximity to the ground, Lily,” Marla would have said encouragingly.
Zoe, Marla’s six-year-old, had helped me make the sign the previous night. She had turned her nose up when I showed her my usual white poster board and black permanent markers. That was my idea for entertainment for a babysitting night. She had brought her own craft kit instead, and what Zoe wants, Zoe gets.
So, it was neon paper, pink letters, glitter glue, and some cartoon cutouts of birds. I had to concede though, it did stand out from the rest of the crowd. Well, the neon sign and the hand-made conch shell earrings. And not to forget, the bulging purple bag hanging across my body, which I had stuffed with extra art supplies and the tons of “emergency” things that I always carried with me. Yeah, I definitely stood out.
These wanderers are lost! was my slogan, with the cartoon birds lining the edges of the protest sign. If I could get noticed, at least I would get my point across.
Now I held the sign up over my head and screamed again, “These wanderers are lost. Don’t build the wind farm!”
I was yelling at the top of my lungs, my voice drowned out by other voices around me. Nothing was going to deter me from standing there; something needed to be done. Argent Energy Systems. It’s more like Argent Enemy Systems. I smirked to myself when I stopped for a moment to catch my breath. We were going to show them. We were going to make sure they heard our voices and knew that we weren’t going to forget about our feathered friends. These bastards were going to hear us and know that we weren’t going to just sit back and watch while the wind farm destroyed the habitat of the Green Gleneagles.
“Stop killing Mother Nature!” a woman beside me yelled, and then turned to me with a sour face and a crude look in her eyes. “I’ve been yelling my throat hoarse, and these fuckers have been cooped up in their offices all day.” She leaned in toward me to make herself heard.
I rolled my eyes in disgust and started yelling again, waving the sign over my head to stress my point.
The protesters had been barricaded by rope so we didn’t block the path between the front entrance of the Argent office building and the parking lot. There were a few cameras covering the protest on the other side, with their lenses turned toward us, just waiting and hoping for the moment when our peaceful protest erupted into violence. I could picture it as a headline in the newspapers the next day: Tree-hugging loonies kick a white-collar human in the balls.
I rolled my eyes again at the scavenging cameras and screamed my slogan aloud.
I had counted ten uniformed policemen already, standing with their arms crossed over their chests. They formed a human wall on the other side of the barricading rope and were glaring us down. I caught the gaze of one of them, who happened to turn his eyes on me.
“Don’t build the wind farm, sir,” I called out to him from my post, shoving some of my auburn curls behind my ears.
The policeman looked away, almost like he was embarrassed, although he knew as well as I did that my shouts weren’t necessarily meant for him. I was just trying to make myself heard.
“Sir. Sir. Sir! Don’t build the wind farm,” I yelled at him, pushing my way through some of the other protesters. I was aware of stepping on other people’s toes as I made my way to the front of the rope, but this wasn’t the time to apologize. The lives of endangered birds were at stake, and the clock was ticking.
“Do you know that only 160 Green Gleneagles are in existence today?” I screamed at him now that I was closer.
I’m still not sure why I decided to lecture a policeman. In that moment, this cross-faced policeman was the only person I could vent my rage at. He was still looking away from me, pretending that he couldn’t hear what I was saying.
“The species will die out if we build over their habitat,” I yelled at him, now very close to his face. I could feel the coarseness of the rope digging into the top of my belly, but I pressed myself against it to get as close to the cop’s face as I could. He was much taller than me, and he loomed over
me with a look of disgust on his face. What a piece of unthinking meat.
I propped myself up on my toes, with the sign still held over my head, just so I could reach him better.
“Don’t you feel guilty about killing an entire species of birds? They will have nowhere to live,” I screamed.
“Back down, Miss.”
I had finally extracted a reaction, and that made me feel victorious. I held my position, still on my tiptoes.
He whipped his head around to look at me directly. He looked like one of those hardened cops who’d seen a couple of years as an undercover agent in the mafia. Severe scars marred his face, and his lips were set in a firm, thin line. He was at least fifty years old and had no time for some students protesting for the life of birds. I knew his type; I was well acquainted with them, and I detested him just as much as he detested me.
“Back down, Miss. I won’t tell you again,” he said, while I glared into his eyes. He must have seen my nostrils flaring and the way my cheeks reddened with rage.
Marla would have placed a hand on my shoulder and asked me to back off, but I was holding my ground.
“Spill blood now if you have to, Officer. You’re spilling the blood of those birds anyway,” I snarled at him.
To my absolute shock, the man turned to one of his colleagues and laughed like I’d made some kind of joke.
I gritted my teeth and felt my breath catch in my throat from the anger coursing through my veins.
I backed down. Not because he asked me to, but because my toes were giving way, and I couldn’t hold that position for much longer. I clenched my jaw at him and yelled out my slogan at the top of my lungs for good measure. I knew what these guys were doing. They were hoping for a violent reaction from us. Well, they weren’t going to get it from me. Not from me. I was going to take it out on my punching bag later, but I wasn’t going to be violent now.
A group of employees emerged from the office building right then, and all protest signs and voices turned to them immediately. The people behind the cameras anticipated some action and turned their lenses, swinging from us to the employees.