Off Limits

by Delilah Wilde

  “Wait! Wait Ruby, Trisha is my stepmother's niece. My stepmother must be your aunt. So it's not blood,” He insisted, but I barely listened. Blood or no blood, it was still fucked up. I shoved my feet back into my heels and grabbed my purse.

  “I have to go,” I said, “This is so fucked up, I have to go.”

  Nate sighed. He didn't seem nearly as concerned as I was about the nature of our relationship. It was completely immoral. If anyone found out I would be disowned. If Trisha found out I would never live it down.

  “At least let me call you a cab,” he said. The idea of getting the bus in my high heels and last night's dress wasn't exactly enticing but I couldn't stay here. I couldn't take anything from him.

  “No thank you,” I said and slammed straight out the door. With a little bit of luck, no one would ever find out and I would never have to see Nate Watson again.

  Nate

  Ruby's anger was like nothing I had ever seen before. Her gentle, pale features had turned an alarming shade of red and she had barged out of my hotel room like I was the most disgusting thing she had ever come across. I had never had a girl treat me that way, especially over something insignificant. To be frank, it pissed me off quite a bit. So my step mom and her real mom were sisters. So what? It didn't mean anything. Maybe the sex was so bad that she just wanted an excuse to leave.

  Nah, I'd seen the way she moved and heard her moans last night. There was no way that she hadn't enjoyed herself. I lay back on the bed where we had fucked last night and pulled out my cell phone, hoping to distract myself by answering some work emails. It was to no avail, of course. I couldn't stop thinking about Ruby. It was so stupid, not like me at all. Usually I would fuck a girl and then quickly move on to the next one, but something about this one was different. She was special.

  Chapter Three

  Ruby

  My long bus journey back to my apartment in last night's dress was awkward and uncomfortable. I chose an empty seat at the back of the bus in an attempt to get some privacy and called my mother. During my childhood, she'd occasionally mentioned her sister Sharon (who she no longer talked to after Sharon stole my mom's college boyfriend, and then a few boyfriend's after that). Sharon must be Nate's step mom, I thought.

  My mother confirmed my suspicions.

  "Auntie Sharon? Why do you want to know about her? Was she at the wedding?" Suddenly my mother's voice filled with excitement, "Did you see how fat she's gotten? Debbie said she saw her at Walmart a few weeks ago and she's gone up at least four dress sizes. Can you believe it?" I interrupted my mother before she could get too carried away.

  "Mom, no! I didn't see Auntie Sharon. Trisha put me sitting next to a guy who said he was her stepson," I said. My mother's voice lost its enthusiasm as quickly as it had gained it.

  "Oh, yes. Well she got lucky there I suppose," said my mother, totally deadpan. I tried to ignore my fellow bus passengers, a few of whom where now looking back at me with interest.

  "Lucky? What do you mean?"

  "Ruby honey, didn't you talk to him? His name is Nathan or something, isn't it? Anyway he started this restaurant chain, Italian or Greek or Thai food or something like that. I don't know what's wrong with a plain ole' burger and fries but I guess I'm not his demographic. It's really fancy stuff. I think he owns like ten restaurants now and they've all gotten amazing reviews. He's a very wealthy man," said my mother, "Knowing Sharon, she was probably a fucking bitch to him as a kid.

  Hopefully he'll have some sense and not give her a dime of his money."

  I listened politely as my mother entered into another rant about Auntie Sharon. I grunted in agreement whenever it was appropriate but eventually I had to cut her off.

  "We're pulling up to my stop," I said, as the bus slowed to a halt, "Sorry mom, but I gotta go!"

  "Really? OK honey, you have a good night. Make sure you eat some vegetables with dinner! I love you."

  I assured my mother that I would eat plenty of vegetables and that I loved her too, before I hung up and got off the bus. My apartment building was right beside the stop. A large, sprawling building with a steel gray exterior that had probably been a nice place to live back in the seventies but currently looked pretty grim. Then again that was just the exterior. When I got inside, the elevator still hadn't been repaired so I had to pound my way up eight flights of stairs in my six inch heels.

  On the way up I appreciated the peeling paint, decorated with crude graffiti that had been there longer than I had. When I finally reached my floor, I saw Jeff, my ex-boyfriend.

  He was leaning against my apartment door, nervously playing with a pack of cigarettes. He smoked now? Amy must have had a bad influence on him. I saw him before he saw me so I could have easily ran straight back down the stairs, but I didn't want to. I had to face my fear.

  I took a deep breath and began to walk towards the man who had shattered my heart into a thousand pieces. The sound of my heels clopping against the hard floor alerted him to my presence. He looked up and gave me a shy smile.

  "Hi Ruby," he said, softly. When we had dated, Jeff wore thick rimmed glasses and dressed like he was someone's grandpa. Now he was wearing contacts and dressed in a t-shirt and jeans. To me, it looked like he was wearing a costume of what he thought a normal guy his age was supposed to wear. That must be how Amy liked him to dress. I fixed a smile onto my face though my voice gave away my nerves.

  "Hello Jeff. What on earth are you doing here?" I asked. The smile left Jeff's face. He couldn't possibly have expected a warm reception after what he had done to me, could he? He was lucky that I hadn't slapped him yet.

  "I wanted to talk to you. Is that so much to ask?" he said. I stared at him for a little too long before letting out a sigh.

  "Fine, fine. We can talk. Please, come in," I said. I unlocked the door and let us both in to my apartment. When I flicked on the light, my small space looked even tinier than it had before. How had I shared it for so long? My kitten, Lucy, came running to see me and I picked her up.

  "I'm allergic to cat hair," said Jeff. I nodded and sat down on the couch, not letting Lucy go.

  "I know. Good thing you don't live here anymore, huh?"

  Jeff's eyes darted from me to the door. I wasn't sure if he was going to leave right now or sit next to me. I don't think he was sure either, but after a moment of this he sat down on the couch, keeping a healthy distance between me and Lucy.

  "Why were you out all day?" asked Jeff, "I've been here since noon."

  "I was at my cousin Trisha's wedding," I said, trying not to let any hint of embarrassment permeate my face. The last thing I needed was to get grilled on my experience. Lucy purred happily as a stroked her soft gray fur. Mom had been kind enough to take care of her while I was away, but she had obviously missed me. It was nice to have someone to care about you, even if that someone was a little rescue tabby and not a boyfriend or a husband.

  Jeff feigned interest.

  "Trisha finally got married? That's great! Was her dress crazy?" he said. I sighed again. He was trying to get me on his side. Bitching about my cousin was one of my favorite hobbies back in the day, but lately it had been replaced by bitching about Jeff and Amy.

  "Her dress was fine," I lied, "Look Jeff, if you could just tell me why you're here that would be great. I've got a lot of things to do and I'm not interested in making small talk with you."

  Jeff nodded as if he understood, though of course he couldn't possibly understand.

  "Of course. I'm sorry Ruby, I don't want to waste your time," he said. He took a deep breath and there was a long pause before anyone spoke. For the first time, I could see that I was making him nervous. I wasn't sure if that was something I liked or not, but it sure felt different.

  "Spit it out Jeff," I said. I wanted to add 'or I'll shove your face in the cat's fur' but that would have been a little too psychotic, even for me. Jeff nodded again.

  "Yeah, sorry, sorry. I just...I don't know how to say this," he gulped and to
my surprise, he took my hand, "Ruby, I love you. I was stupid to hurt you. You have to let me move back in so I can make things better."

  Each word was like a knife forcing its way into a different part of my flesh. These were the words I had wanted so desperately to hear in the weeks after our break up, but now they disgusted me. I pulled my hand away from his touch. Lucy began to yowl, upset by the bad atmosphere in the room.

  "Are you fucking crazy, Jeff? You left me for my best friend! You broke my heart and ruined my life!" I said. Jeff wouldn't give up.

  "I know, I know. And now I'm back and I want to make it up to you. I want to treat you like the princess your really are, baby," he said, reaching for my hand again.

  I stood up so that he couldn't touch me, "Come on, don't be like that."

  "I think you should go home to Amy," I said. That name brought a change of expression across Jeff's face and I instantly knew why, "Oh god, she dumped you, didn't she?"

  Jeff sighed.

  "It wasn't working out. We're different people. We just don't click the way that you and I do."

  "Shut up!"

  "No, I won't shut up," Jeff stood up, "I know I hurt you. You hurt me too. But we need to move on now, baby. Give the cat to your mom and let me move in again. Don't you want to work on that book together?"

  I rolled my eyes.

  "No. Forgive me if working fifty hours a week while you stay at home and scratch your ass isn't my dream life," I said. Jeff sneered at me.

  "Oh, so turning into a fat ugly cat lady is? It's not like you have any other options!"

  I'd forgotten how mean that Jeff could be when he didn't get his way. The last bit of temptation to take him up on his offer evaporated totally. Things would never be good between us again and I knew it. What I said next was a surprise to both of us.

  "Well, I'd rather be a cat lady than your slave any day," I said, "Besides, I have a new boyfriend and we're very happy together."

  Jeff's face fell. What on earth had I just said that for?

  "You do? Who is he? What's his name?"

  Of course, I said the only name that was on my mind.

  "Nate Watson. We went to Trisha's wedding together, actually," I faked a blissful expression, "The two of us danced all night and spent all morning in bed together. It was so magical."

  Jeff folded his arms and narrowed his eyes, obviously trying to see if I was lying.

  "Nate Watson is a millionaire restaurant guy with tattoos. He was on the news last week. You don't honestly expect me to believe you're with him, do you?" he asked, though I could sense the doubt in his voice.

  "Believe me or don't believe me, I don't give a fuck. Just get out of my apartment and don't come back!" I said. Jeff opened his mouth as if he was going to argue with me, but he obviously thought better of it. He nodded and left without saying goodbye.

  I allowed myself to cry for a few minutes before wiping my tears, getting into my pajamas and making myself a comforting cup of hot chocolate. I settled down on the couch with my laptop on my knees and my kitten snoozing at my feet and sipped my warm drink as I googled Nate Watson.

  Jeff and my mom had been wrong about him. He wasn't a millionaire, he was a billionaire. His restaurant chain had recently gone international and gotten rave reviews from famous food critics all over the world. There were interviews with him on YouTube that I watched with interest, appreciating the deep tone of his voice. He even had his own website with a list when he would be appearing and where. Paris, Seoul, Dubai. This guy obviously lived a jet setting life. Weirdly enough though, his next appearance was a talk that he would be giving next week at the community college he had attended. I knew the place, it was only a few blocks away from where I lived. The talk was on entrepreneurship. As a professional, it might be helpful to me. Nate might actually have some good ideas about how I could make my career really talk off.

  No. I took another sip of my hot chocolate and promised myself that I wouldn't go. No matter how valuable this guy's advice might be, I couldn't risk seeing him again. It was totally out of the question.

  "Hey Lucy," I said to my kitten, who miaowed in response, "I'm not going to the talk, OK? I'm never gonna see Nate Watson again."

  She purred and rubbed against my feet. It was good that she liked me so much. If I was going to grow old and become a cat lady, I might as well get a good start.

  Nate

  People always ask me why I bother to speak at my old community college. It's a good question, really. I could be in any other city in the world, speaking to men and women who have achieved extraordinary things and drinking alcohol that costs more than most people's wedding china. I always make the time to speak at Lincoln community because that's where I had my start. I was a kid who hated school, drank way too much and was rude to everyone I encountered, but somehow that college made something of me. Now, I don't have to worry about money or not having a bed to sleep in at night. The least I can do is visit every once and a while and share my so called wisdom with the kids. The idea that I could inspire someone to achieve their dream is always pretty cool.

  The kids and the teachers all listened eagerly as I told them about myself. They all knew who I was, of course. Many of them seemed impressed that I'd gotten this far in life while being completely covered in tattoos. More of them seem impressed by my humble upbringing and how I turned a small loan into a fortune. At the end of my talk, the floor was opened up to questions. A girl asked me what my favorite subject in school was. I told her math. A guy asked me what advice I could give to someone who wants to enter the restaurant business. I gave a long spiel that sounded good, though I know a lot of my success was down to luck and being in the right place at the right time. One girl asked me if I was single and the auditorium dissolved into laughter.

  "Please keep questions on relevant! Mr. Watson doesn't want to answer silly personal questions!" warned one of the teachers.

  "It's OK, really. I am single, actually. I'm young and I still want to see the world and experience everything, so I'm not tying myself down right now."

  It's my standard answer, but as soon as I finished saying it I saw her. She was standing at the back of the room, her auburn hair in two braids and wearing a soft pink sweater. It was Ruby, and she was listening to every word I said. She must have been here for the whole talk. I suddenly felt embarrassed, wondering if she thought all my advice is cheesy. She must have realized that I was looking at her because she imminently blushed and pushed her way out of the big double doors at the back of the auditorium.

  "Mr Watson, thank you so much for being here," said the same teacher who had scolded the students a minute ago, "I just hope that our students will take something from this. Perhaps some of them will be standing here with you in a few years time."

  I thanked the school for having me and made my way as quickly as I could to the back of the auditorium. This was no easy task, as I kept being stopped. Students wanted to ask me more questions. My old teachers wanted to congratulate me. The auditorium was so packed that it took forever to get through those double doors, and by the time I did I was sure that Ruby would be gone.

  I looked all over the place but couldn't find her. She had fled, like a nervous little sparrow who had just seen a fox. I was surprised at how crushed I felt, though I didn't know why. After all, she had left the hotel room so rudely and abruptly. I should be pissed.

  I wasn't pissed though, I was just bummed. I talked to a few more people but eventually managed to slip away. My old smoking spot had been at the back of the school by the old vending machines that hardly worked. I stepped outside and was delighted to see that it was as deserted as it had been back in the day when I had spent all my time there.

  Though I was trying to quit, I pulled a cigarette out of my pocket for old time's sake and lit up.

  "That's a filthy habit," Ruby stepped out from behind one of the vending machines. She looked even more beautiful than I remembered, the snug fit of her sweater and her short skirt sho
wing off her figure. In the past, girls usually became boring to me after I slept with them. It felt like the mystery had dissipated once I had seen them without their clothes on and touched them everywhere I had been wanting to touch them. For some reason, Ruby had only become more mysterious to me after we spent the night together. She hadn't left my mind since, but I tried my best to play it cool.

  "I'm quitting soon, promise," I said, taking a drag. She gave a cute little smirk.

  "Sure."

  "So what are you doing here then? Looking for round two?" I said, trying to keep the hope from my voice. She shook her head.

  "No, I told you that's not happening again. Just put it out of your mind," she pulled out a little flowery notebook from her satchel, "I was here for some tips."

  She showed me what she had written down. It was everything I had said, practically word for word. It was flattering really, but a little embarrassing to see all the crap I had said laid out in front of me like that. I couldn't tell if it was good advice or not. No one had ever given me any advice and I had still somehow managed to succeed. Still, I had tried my best to be helpful.