by Raina Wilde
"Wow," she whispered to herself. She looked in the mirror. Her make-up still looked fresh. She washed her hands and composed herself before slipping back through the door. When she stepped out, her eyes immediately flew to the place where the man had been sitting, but now he was gone. She felt the weight of disappointment wash over her. Oh well, she thought, at least she didn't have to embarrass herself in front of him. But when she turned toward the table she could feel the horrible gnaw of jealousy explode in her chest. He was sitting at their table talking to Bea. Of course, it was always Bea.
She walked back to the table slowly. As she approached he smiled at her and slid down the booth, making room for her to sit down. Leah smiled politely back, and perched on the edge of the booth.
"Leah, this is Jack," Bea said. She was grinning, "Jack... this is Leah."
"Nice to meet you, Leah," he said. His voice was a low seductive purr.
"Anyway," Bea interrupted. "I was just telling Jack that I had to get going, but you two should stay." Bea stood up and winked. Leah gave her a wide-eyed expression meant to say, 'What the fuck are you doing leaving me here?, but Bea just smiled and slid her coat on.
"See you later, sweetie," she said to Leah, giving her a kiss on the cheek and winking. She mouthed "text me" and made a typing gesture with her thumbs as she backed out of the door.
Leah swooped around the table and sat facing Jack. He had one arm casually draped across the back of the booth. Leah felt a shiver run through her body when she realised his arm would have been inches from her skin before she moved around the table.
"So, Leah," he said, leaning forward, "What's your story?"
Leah felt her phone buzz in her purse. She tried not to look down and fished it out. She knew it would be a text from Bea, and when she quickly glanced at the screen the message read "Tld u he was chking u out ;-)"
"I don't have a story," Leah said, shoving her phone back into her purse.
"Everyone has a story," Jack said, leaning forward.
"Aren't you disappointed Bea left?" Leah asked. Jack squinted a little and looked into her eyes.
"Why would I be disappointed?" he asked.
"I thought you came over here to talk to her," Leah replied.
Jack was quiet for a minute, studying her. Then he sat back in the seat.
"So that's your story," he said with a grin.
"I told you..." Leah began, but he interrupted her.
"I know, you don't have a story. Let's just go with that. I don't have a story either," Jack said. "For the rest of the night we're not ourselves."
Leah studied him and smiled. She usually wasn't forward with men, mostly because she didn't think she had the time for a relationship. Some weeks she felt like she could barely hold her head above water in school. Even her friendship with Bea suffered sometimes; she would go weeks without seeing her, days without answering a text.
"Okay then, Mr. Jack no-story, what are we going to talk about if we can't talk about ourselves?"
"Who says we have to talk?" Jack asked, his eyes glittering. Leah felt a shiver of excitement run through her.
"Are you hungry?" he asked.
"Yeah, I am actually," Leah replied. She had barely touched the pita and dips Bea had devoured in front of her.
"Like burgers?" Jack asked.
"A burger would be great," Leah answered.
"Are you feeling brave?" he asked with a grin.
Leah looked at him warily. "What do you mean?"
Jack held out the motorcycle helmet that had been on the seat next to him. He had a devilish grin on his face.
"You want me to get on a motorcycle with you?" Leah asked, astonished. "Sorry, I just met you..."
"It's probably not the type of motorcycle you're thinking of," he replied.
Leah just eyed him warily.
"Come, look. I'm a safe driver, I promise," the intonation in his voice when he said 'I promise' made Leah shiver. She found herself wishing he was closer, whispering that phrase in her ear. She felt herself blush.
"Okay, I'll look," she said, suddenly desperate for some fresh air.
"Great," Jack was grinning. He stood up and casually handed Leah the helmet. She gripped it with both hands, holding it in front of her body like a shield. Jack led her outside, occasionally glancing behind to make sure she was still following him. They made their way around the side of the building where Jack had parked, and when Leah saw the motorcycle she laughed.
"Don't laugh," Jack exclaimed, he was pretending to sound offended but still had a smile on his face. "It's a Vespa. They're Italian."
"I know what it is," Leah said. She had gone through a Mod phase in middle school. She still had the old posters of The Who and The Kinks in her closet. She had laughed, but she was secretly delighted. Scooters like this were pretty common in Europe, but you didn't often see them in the US. She had always wanted one, but was never brave enough to learn how to drive one.
"Get on," Jack said, slapping the back seat. She secured the helmet over her hair and slipped onto the scooter. Jack gracefully got on in front of her.
"Where do I hold on?" Leah asked, looking for somewhere on her seat to hang on to. Jack reached around and grabbed one of her hands. His were warm and smooth. He pulled her arm forward and looped it around his body.
"You have to hang on to me," he said. There was an edge of delight in his voice that sent another shiver down Leah's spine. She slid her other arm around him and as he pulled the bike away she gripped him tighter. It was scary at first; Jack wove in and out of traffic and Leah squeezed her eyes shut in fear. But after a while she got used to the leaning sensation as Jack turned the bike and she opened them again. It was completely dark now, and the city sped by in a blur of multi-colored streetlights. After a while Jack pulled the bike up in front of a dirty looking burger van parked on the edge of Boston Common.
"This is where we're eating?" Leah asked.
"Don't knock it till you try it. These are the best burgers," Jack replied. Leah watched as he approached the window and ordered. He joked with the vendor, smiling and laughing, and Leah got the impression that they knew each other. He came back with two greasy white bags.
"Do you want to eat somewhere with a view?"
"A view?" Leah asked.
Jack fished a set of keys out of his pocket. He winked at her. "Follow me."
He crossed the street toward a row of expensive town homes that overlooked Boston Common. Leah watched as he slipped a key into one of the doors and stepped in.
"Do you live here?" she asked, shocked.
"Do I look like I live here?" he asked with a grin.
"Then whose house is this?" Leah asked. She was reluctant to go inside.
"A friend of a friend is the maintenance guy in this building. He copies keys and lets us know when the owners are out of town."
"That's illegal!" Leah gasped.
Jack shrugged.
"I can't go in there," Leah said.
"No one will ever know. Especially if we stop making a scene on the doorstep," Jack replied.
Leah hesitated, then her stomach rumbled. She looked at Jack again; he was easily the most gorgeous man she had ever been on a date with—if she could even call this a date. Finally, she relented, and followed Jack up the steps.
He grinned at her and disappeared inside. The lobby was smooth polished wood and shining white marble floors. Jack walked casually to an elevator and pressed the button. Once inside he slipped a key into the hole under a button for Penthouse Suite 1. The doors opened into a modern open-plan apartment that was sparkling clean.
"Wow," Leah said.
"Yeah, pretty cool, right?" Jack replied. He had kicked his shoes off by the door and sunk into a couch. There was a wall of windows that overlooked the Common.
"This is incredible," Leah said. She was in awe as she walked around the apartment.
"You're going to eat that on the couch?" Leah exclaimed as Jack pulled out the burger.
&nbs
p; "Yeah, why?" he asked, taking a bite.
"What if you get grease on the couch?"
Jack shrugged, and Leah laughed. Part of her was appalled at what they were doing, breaking in to someone else’s apartment. But another part of her was thrilled. It was people like this who repelled her. The super rich. People like her mother's new boyfriend. She sat down beside Jack and ate.
They sat side by side in the apartment, talking about everything but themselves. Leah was surprised to find they had similar tastes in almost everything: music, art, movies. Their conversation rolled easily from topic to topic, and Leah began to feel more comfortable with Jack than she did even Bea.
Eventually Jack wandered to the kitchen and came back with a bottle of wine.
"Won't they notice it's missing?" Leah asked.
"Probably not. It's cooking wine," Jack replied, pulling the cork out.
"How do you know the difference between cooking wine and drinking wine?" Leah asked.
Jack looked at her and for a second Leah thought he looked like a deer caught in headlights. Then he shrugged it off.
"You know, dusty and old vs. shiny and new," he said in a fake Irish accent. Leah laughed, immediately getting the reference to the TV series Black Books.
They drank most of the wine, watching the lights of Boston twinkle in the distance across the Common. Their conversation slowed to a comfortable silence, and Leah could feel herself wanting to move closer to Jack. She placed her hand on the couch between them, as casually as possible, just to be a little closer.
Jack looked down at it, and Leah could see a smile playing at the corners of his lips. He stood up and reached down for her hand. His touch was warm, electric. He pulled her up from the couch. Their bodies were close, almost touching. Jack was nearly a foot taller than Leah, and she had to crane her neck a little to look up at him. His fingertips were lightly skimming across the skin of her arms. It made her shiver. Her breath quickened as she looked into his eyes.
"Come with me," he whispered into her ear and tugged lightly on her hand. His breath on her neck almost made her moan. He pulled her through a door into a bedroom. It had floor to ceiling windows that overlooked the city on two sides. Jack pulled Leah in close and closed the bedroom door. He held her face between his hands and looked into her eyes, drinking her in. Then he lowered his face and kissed her, lightly at first, and then deeper. Leah moaned and kissed him back, eagerly and hungrily.
Jack growled, low and seductive, and backed Leah up against one of the windows. His hands roamed over her body and slid up under her dress. She lifted her arms and he pulled it over her head, slowly, carefully, and let it drift to the floor gracefully.
Leah had on a matching black bra and undies set and black thigh-high stockings. Jack stepped back and looked at her. His eyes were dark and hungry. He slid out of his leather jacket and easily pulled his shirt over his head. Leah's breath quickened. His body was chiselled, his hipbones defined and tantalising. Leah's eyes followed their lines until they disappeared under his jeans. He had tattoos on his biceps and chest, simple graphic black patterns. Jack stepped toward her, pushing her body against the cool glass with his. Leah whimpered as Jack entwined his hands in her hair and kissed her.
He guided her toward the bed and laid her down, slowly pulling off her stockings. She watched him unbuckle his belt and her breath quickened. He let his jeans fall to the floor and stood watching her as he slipped on a condom. Then he kneeled on the bed over her.
"Are you sure about this?" he asked, his voice low and throaty.
Leah pulled him down and kissed him, whispering 'yes' against his lips. He moaned into her mouth, and she felt him push inside of her. She gasped, raking her fingernails up his back at the intense pleasure. She wrapped her legs around him, pulling his hips toward her and pushing him deeper and deeper inside her.
After, they lay entwined in the blankets watching the lights in the buildings across the Common flicker out for the night. Eventually Leah fell asleep with her head cradled against Jack's chest.
#
The next morning Leah woke to find Jack still asleep, twisted in the blankets and snoring. She thought about staying, but now that the alcohol from the night before had worn off, she didn't fancy being at the apartment if the owners decided to come home early. She found a slip of paper and jotted her cellphone number on it, then slipped it into the pocket of Jack's jeans.
She called the elevator, hoping she didn't need the key to go down, and was relieved to find that she didn't. She took a cab back to Cambridge and slipped into the apartment she shared with her mom before 8:30am.
Leah showered and dressed, then sat in the living room with her Kindle. She loved novels, but barely had time to read them during the school year. She relished summer and the free time it opened up for her to read.
"Hi darling," her mom, Cara, said as she bustled into the room. She wasn't dressed in her usual flight attendant uniform, but a simple sweater and jeans.
"That sweater looks expensive," Leah said. She hated being catty with her mom, and tried to keep her tone light. But she still wanted to voice her displeasure at her mom's new boyfriend.
"Do you like it?" she asked. "Lawrence bought it for me. From Italy," she turned in a circle to show off the sweater.
"It's nice, mom," Leah said, and lifted her book up again.
"Are you packed yet?" Cara asked.
"Packed for what?" Leah replied.
"I told you last week. Lawrence invited us to Maine for a benefit dinner weekend. We're staying for a week."
"Oh, mom. I really don't want to go," Leah said.
Cara looked disappointed.
"It's just that I wanted to spend the first week of my vacation reading. And relaxing. I think I've earned it," Leah said. She knew she sounded whiney, but didn't care.
"You can relax in Maine! The hotel is on the beach, the weather is supposed to be great. Oh Leah, please. We haven't been on a family vacation in years," Cara said.
"It's not exactly a family vacation though, is it?" she replied. Leah's dad had never been in the picture, and for years while growing up Cara hadn't dated much. She had devoted her life to Leah, and to her job. There had been hard times, especially with rising rents and mortgages. But when Cara finally paid off the mortgage on their house the area was up-and-coming, and she was able to take out another mortgage to convert the dilapidated old house into three apartments. Now they lived on the bottom floor, the largest, while the two upper units were sold to young professionals. That had paid off the second mortgage, but Cara still had to work hard to cover the taxes and basics like food and utilities—as well as Leah's schooling, whenever she could afford it. And Cara often went without so Leah could buy textbooks. Leah was reminded of all of this as Cara stood in the kitchen studying her, and she finally relented.
"I'm sorry, mom. I'll come," she got up and went over to her mom and wrapped her arms around her. "I love you mom," she said into her neck.
"I love you too, darling. I'm so excited you're coming. You'll really like Lawrence when you get to know him. I know you will," she said. "And he's bringing his son and daughter, so you'll have company."
"Great," Leah said. She sulked up to her bedroom and threw a duffle on the bed. She hated feeling so petulant about disliking Lawrence, but he represented everything about the world that she disliked. She was going to medical school to help people, and every day she saw people struggle to get well from illnesses because they couldn't afford to pay for the medications that would make them better. It was people like Lawrence and his company who were responsible for that. They held the patents for medicines that could be produced for next-to-nothing. Instead, they charged ridiculous amounts to people struggling with their health and financial burdens.
Leah's latest fight with her mom came after they had been sitting on the couch watching TV and a clip from a Medtex press conference came on. Lawrence was discussing his company's latest buyout, and how the profits would fund research a
nd offer grants to aspiring doctors. Cara gushed at the TV about what a nice man Lawrence was and Leah lost it. She yelled at her mother that the grants Medtex offered were less than 1 percent of the profits they made on their medications. Her mother looked hurt, but Leah didn't stop. She yelled until her voice was hoarse, and her mom simply sat there with tears in her eyes. Then, when Leah couldn't look at her any longer, she turned and stormed up to her room. That had been a week earlier, and Leah had barely talked to her since.
She threw a week's worth of clothes in her luggage and plugged in her Kindle. They were leaving in a few hours, and she wanted to make sure she had enough entertainment to last the week. She knew it was going to be a boring, stuffy fundraiser full of stuffed shirts and people she didn't like. She laid down in bed and plugged her iPhone in then popped her headphones in, passing the hours until they were due to leave with music.
#
The drive up to Maine was a few hours, and Leah curled up against the door and slept for most of it. When she woke up she saw the rugged Maine coastline stretching out ahead of them with the road twisting and winding its way alongside.
"Are we almost there?" she asked her mother while stretching in her seat.
"Yeah, we'll be in Kennebunkport in about 20 minutes," Cara replied.
"Great, I'm starving," Leah replied.
"Don't eat too much when we get there, we're having dinner with Lawrence and his family," Cara replied.