by Jenny Lynn
I plastered on the friendliest smile I could. Ever since I met Lilly, and all this time since, she clearly was not going to let go of the fact that Nicholas chose me over her. The best way to deal with Lilly was to not let her think any of her snide comments bothered me.
“Nice to see you Lilly, we’ll make sure you and your friends have a nice evening. Your table has a gorgeous view of the skyline,” I said sweetly. “Have a seat and I’ll be by to get your drink order.” As I walked away I heard Lilly and her friends laugh and clenched my fists. I could handle them.
I dropped off food and bills for a few of my tables, then walked over to Lilly and her group. “What can I get you this evening?” I asked.
“Hmmm... “ Lilly mused, tapping her finger against the menu. “I would suggest we order a bottle of champagne, but where’s the fun in that if you’re not fetching us a new drink each time?”
“Well, Lilly,” I said brightly. “Getting you whatever you want tonight is my job. So please, feel free to order anything that catches your eye.”
“I’ll have a glass of the pinot,” said a girl with raven hair.
“Martini, dry, with four olives,” said the blond.
“And I’ll have a Bellini,” Lilly said, closing her menu.
“I’ll have the bar get started on your drinks right away,” I said with a nod, then walked away. The dinner crowd was already thinning out, and my section was quickly emptying. I refilled water glasses then dropped off a few more bills. Every once in awhile Lilly would snap her fingers and wave me over to get their group another round, more water, an appetizer to share. She always waited until she saw me busy with another task to demand my attention, but I wouldn’t let her see me getting annoyed or frustrated. I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. After hours of torture they were the last table in my section and I started helping with end of shift clean up.
“Breanne, I need to speak with you,” Mark told me as he walked past. I followed him and he gestured to his office. When he closed the door I felt a sinking feeling, not sure what he was upset about. “Breanne, we’ve worked together for quite a while, haven’t we?”
“We have,” I nodded. “I enjoy working here.”
“And you enjoy working with me,” Mark added.
“Sure,” I said. “You’re a great manager.”
“Breanne,” Mark said, stepping closer and leaning against the wall. “I know I have been hard on you, and I just want you to know it’s because I’ve always known you had potential. You hold yourself to a higher standard than most people. I’ve always really liked that about you.”
I started to feel uncomfortable with the way Mark was looking at me. I took a step back. “I appreciate you thinking that,” I said slowly. “I should get back to my section, I have a bit of a demanding table.”
“Hold on Breanne,” Mark said, grabbing my wrist. “I’m trying to give you a compliment. Do I make you nervous?”
“No,” I lied, turning the handle. “I just need to get to work.” I swung the door open walking into the hallway and Mark chuckled.
“I make you nervous, and that’s okay, Breanne,” he said with a smile, following me down the hallway. “The truth is, I’ve had a thing for you for a while now and wanted you to know. That’s why I don’t like you flaunting your engagement in my face. I don’t like having things I want dangled in front of me like that. Day after day, it’s driving me nuts.” He placed a hand on either side of the doorway, pinning me in.
“Mark, this is really inappropriate,” I squirmed, darting my eyes around looking for someone who could get me out of this situation.
“Oh come on,” Mark crooned, lifting my chin with his hand. “You see the wives of rich powerful men come in here all the time. Their husbands have no time for them, they get lonely. I’m just suggesting that if you ever need attention that Nicholas is too busy to give you…” Mark leaned forward and pulled me against him, pressing his lips against mine. I struggled against him then pushed him off.
“Mark, stop!” I shouted as I slapped him across the face. “Don’t touch me.”
He placed his hand against his jaw, stunned, and glared at me. “You’re going to regret that, Breanne,” he whispered.
“I doubt it. I quit,” I snapped back, pulling off my apron and tossing it at him. Mark’s seething gaze traveled past me, over my shoulder. Then he turned and stormed off. I looked behind me and saw Lilly watching the entire scene unfold, holding her phone in her hands.
“Lover’s quarrel?” Lilly asked, arching an eyebrow.
“Go to hell, Lilly,” I muttered, feeling shocked and upset by the situation. I went to the front, grabbed my purse and headed downstairs shaking with emotion.
My job had been a grounding force in my life, it was a part of me that showed the world I was willing to work hard for the things I wanted. It made me feel strong and valued, and in a split second Mark had made me feel like an object for him to claim. I wiped my hand against my lips, shuddering at the memory of him trying to force his tongue into my mouth. His implication that I would ever sleep with him, or that my marriage would be empty turned my stomach. I jumped into a taxi and slammed the door. I barked my address at the driver. Once the taxi pulled away I hung my head and then I cried.
5
When I woke up, I was curled in Nicholas’ strong arms. I looked up and noticed he was awake, looking down at me with a warm expression on his face. “Good morning,” he said, then bent forward to kiss me softly.
“It doesn’t feel like a good morning,” I said with a sinking feeling.
“You still haven’t told me what upset you last night.” He brushed a strand of hair from my cheek. I had come home furious and gone straight to bed without mentioning the incident to Nicholas.
I bit my lip and rolled over. “I quit my job at the restaurant,” I said, trying to keep my voice even. “It was a horrible night, I don’t feel like talking about it just yet.”
Nicholas squeezed me in his arms and pressed a kiss against my neck. “I’m sorry, Breanne. When you’re ready to talk about it, I’m always here to listen. I realize it was probably a hard decision for you, and I support it.”
He pushed up, swung his legs over the side of the bed and tugged on a t-shirt. “I’ll get a coffee started for you,” he said as he walked out of the room. I lay there, staring at the wall. Not only was I forced to leave a job I was proud to still have, that I used to pay for my expenses, but I was forced to make that decision because of Mark being a creep. This wasn’t about me walking away, it was about me being chased out by a complete pig. I had no control over the situation other than to leave, and it stung.
Finally getting out of bed, I wandered into the kitchen to find Nicholas. Maybe it was time to tell him the whole story, to get his perspective on it. I spotted him by the counter, his shoulders rigid and tense. “Nicholas, there’s something I want to tell you,” I began. At the sound of my voice he turned and I saw that he was holding his phone.
“Is it about this?” he asked as he handed the device to me. I took it from him and looked. To my horror, it was an image of Mark pressing me against the wall and kissing me. The color drained from my face as I read the text.
Trouble in paradise? Breanne Taylor, fiancée of Nicholas Blackstone, stuck by her man during a sensational trial and his rise to the top as CEO of Blackstone Enterprises. But an anonymous source sent us this photo with a tip that maybe Chicago’s newest socialite couple aren’t meant to be. Good luck explaining this one, Breanne, and if hunky Nicholas needs a shoulder to cry on we’re sure there are many women just dying for the opportunity.
My hands shaking, I clutched the phone tightly and looked up at Nicholas. My vision grew blurry as my eyes started to water. “Nicholas,” my voice cracked as I said his name. “It’s not true, Mark came on to me. He kissed me, I pushed him off and quit on the spot. That’s why I was so upset last night.” A tear rolled down my cheek and Nicholas wrapped me in his arms, I leaned against his chest and
sobbed, overcome with emotion.
“It’s a gossip site, Breanne, they exist to spread rumors,” he tried to reassure me. He pulled back, still holding my arms in his hands, and looked into my eyes. “Mark forced himself on you?” he asked, his voice taking on an edge.
“He did, then I pushed him off,” I said with a shudder. “I never thought he would do anything like that. He insinuated-” I stopped myself before I said any more. I could already tell Nicholas was getting upset.
“What did he insinuate?” Nicholas pressed, his eyes burning with intensity.
“I really don’t want to dwell on it, it’s over. I quit my job and I never have to see him again,” I told him. Then the last piece clicked in my mind. “Lilly. She was there, she saw what happened. She must have taken the picture, sent it to this site, but she twisted the context to make it seem like something it wasn’t.”
“I don’t want you to worry about this. I’m going to take care of it,” Nicholas said as he kissed my forehead then picked his suit jacket up off the chair, sliding his arms into the fabric.
“What do you mean ‘take care of it?” I asked.
“I want you to focus on something else today, this was really upsetting and I can see that,” he told me, but I felt he was hiding something. There was a tension in the line of his jaw, and anger in his eyes as he walked away towards the elevator. He was looking at me as the doors closed, and I instantly felt guilty for ruining his morning. My phone was buzzing and I walked over to my bag to fish it out. It was Tabitha calling.
“Hey Tabitha,” I said with a sigh, settling down into a chair.
“From the tone of your voice I take it you saw the post? What the hell happened, Breanne?”
“Mark came onto me, I pushed him off but not before Lilly managed to snap a photo. Of all the nights for her to be bothering me at work, she really lucked out.”
“What did Nicholas say?” Tabitha asked.
“He was annoyed, angry, really. Like he was barely containing it.”
“He didn’t believe it, did he?”
“No, he dismissed it as gossip and I told him what really happened. Now I have no job,” I lamented. “I need to start looking for another job.”
“Yes,” Tabitha said tentatively. “You could. Or you could finally accept that your life is about to change. You’re about to marry into the Blackstone family. I know you’re proud but that is going to come with certain expectations. Maybe it’s time you focus on your studies and your future.”
I sighed. Tabitha was right. “Well, I am busy with classes and I’m going to be meeting a patient with Doctor Shaffer,” I agreed.
“Exactly. Focus on school and developing connections for your career. The rest will fall into place. And as for garbage rumors? Ignore all that, everyone knows how crazy you and Nicholas are for each other. Speaking of, how are the wedding plans going?”
“Not bad, our wedding planner arranged for the chef to cook for us tonight so we can decide on the menu.”
“Well, enjoy; guess I’ll see you Wednesday at the wedding shower?”
“I hope Nancy doesn’t go too over the top,” I laughed as I walked over to the window and looked out at the skyline. The light was bouncing off buildings, everything was glimmering.
“Nancy Blackstone not go over the top? Have you met her?” Tabitha and I both laughed. I felt immensely grateful she had called, she was always able to help me put things in perspective and chase away a bad mood.
“See you Wednesday,” I told Tabitha.
“Later,” she replied, then I hung up.
I looked around the vast, empty penthouse. I considered going to the library for a change of scenery to do my work, but decided against it. I poured myself a mug of coffee, adding milk and sugar, then settled myself on the couch. As I opened my laptop I had an email from Doctor Shaffer.
Breanne,
It was nice meeting you, your enthusiasm for the field is apparent. If you’re available I will be heading to the Elgin Mental Health Center tomorrow. I know it is last minute, but if you are free you are welcome to accompany me. You can meet me at my office for 9am.
Regards,
Dr. Shawn Shaffer
My heart leapt in my chest, it was so exciting. I could not believe I was going to be able to visit an actual facility with a world-renowned forensic psychologist and speak with a patient. I immediately wrote a reply.
Dr. Shaffer,
I would be very interested in accompanying you tomorrow, and will arrive at your office for 9am. Thank you again for this opportunity.
Best,
Breanne
I couldn’t wait to tell Nicholas about this over our catered dinner this evening. I pulled out my textbooks and started reviewing notes, highlighting passages and looking for additional case studies that focused on my thesis. Hours passed late into the afternoon but I remained focused. Then I read a passage about the confession of a horrific murder, and my mind began to wander. Who was it that I was meeting again? I searched my memory for who Doctor Shaffer had mentioned until I recalled his name - Randy Wilkes. I had never heard of him before, but thankfully there was a modern solution to anything we wanted to know.
I typed “Randy Wilkes” into the search bar. It took a bit of digging, but not much. There were a number of news articles and his case was referenced in a few academic papers. I leaned closer to the screen and scrolled through one bit of information after another, absorbing and piecing together a profile of the man I was going to meet tomorrow.
Randy Wilkes was responsible for the abduction and murder of three women; his fourth victim managed to escape leading to his eventual capture. He would lure women into his car, pretending to be a police officer. He kept them hidden in the basement of his house, as prisoners. They came from different cities across Illinois. The only thing that eventually connected the cases was the testimony of the woman who had gotten away, Beth MacLean, and the similar profile of the victims. They all had long dirty blonde hair, in their twenties, were conventionally attractive and all were found dressed in a white t-shirt and Daisy Duke jean shorts.
The account from Beth painted a horrifying picture of what these girls endured. After being abducted, they woke up chained in a dark basement. It was furnished with a bed, couch and television set. Beth awoke to Randy standing over her, indicating to a pile of clothes to her left. He told her to get dressed or he would kill her. Nervously, Beth complied. He then instructed her to tie her hair into a ponytail. A transformation came over him as soon as she was in the new outfit. He attacked her.
She was captive for two days until one evening when Randy didn’t secure the lock correctly. Beth took the opportunity to escape, sneaking upstairs and out the locked front door. She flagged a car down on the road who took her to the police.
Randy spent a week on the run before being apprehended in Colorado for having stolen plates on his car. The trial was a circus, with a brave but visually distressed Beth among the witnesses. She testified to the two sides of Randy Wilkes, his unpredictability, he would sometimes look off into the distance and mutter as if to someone not in the room.
Expert testimony, including Doctor Shaffer, agreed that Randy was delusional and had a mental illness. They pointed to a dysfunctional childhood, with a single mother who was a sex worker and left him alone for long periods of time or with a revolving door of temporary care. When asked about the women he attacked Randy testified he was lonely and that he wanted company. He didn’t mean to hurt them, but the darkness crept in and took over. As for the outfit, he said only that it was what he found the most attractive on a woman. When he had someone, he wanted to dress them up. He wanted control.
“Good evening Breanne,” the voice cut through the silence of the room and I jumped in my seat, gasping and almost knocking the laptop to the floor. Looking up I saw Stephanie Ball, the wedding planner, standing off the entrance with a group of three people. “I’m sorry to startle you,” she said after I had a chance to recover. “
They let us up. We did agree on six today, didn’t we?”
“Is it six already?” I asked, looking over my shoulder at the clock. She was right, it was. Time had flown by, but where was Nicholas? “Nicholas isn’t home yet, but please come in and get started,” I told them. The two men and a woman walked past into the kitchen as Stephanie walked over to me.
“I’ll take notes,” she said. “When you enjoy something we can add it as an option then finalize the menu quickly.”
“What about Nicholas? Shouldn’t we wait?” I asked, glancing at the closed doors at the end of the hallway.
“His secretary called me earlier to let me know he was running late, he’ll be here soon. In the meantime he assured me that he supported any decision you made.” Stephanie guided me to the breakfast bar and I sat down as the sous-chef poured me a glass of golden white wine while the Chef began heating pans and removing ingredients from the boxes he had brought with him.
Over the course of an hour I sampled crab cakes, scallops, fresh spring rolls and paté for appetizers. The room became a symphony of culinary delights: each plate Chef Brandon served up looked and smelled delectable. He was starting on the main and I had declared the crab cakes my favorite when Nicholas walked through the door.
“It smells great in here,” he exclaimed, walking over with a smile.
“It tasted even better,” I teased. “And you would have been able to tell that for yourself if you had been here on time.”
“My meeting ran late,” he said as he pressed his lips against mine, nipping my bottom lip gently. “Couldn’t be helped. But I’m home now.” Stephanie moved over so Nicholas could sit beside me.
“So far we’ve decided on crab cakes, oysters and fried goat cheese as appetizers,” Stephanie informed him. “With marinated mushrooms as a vegetarian option.”