by Portia Moore
“Nice to meet you,” I finally get out.
Dexter Crestfield Jr., the man whose father is the richest man in the Midwest. I just read an article about him for a class, for God’s sake.
“Your home is beautiful. As if you don’t know that,” I say like an idiot and step closer to Cal.
“I’ll give my decorator your compliments.” He walks over to the bar area and pulls down a couple of rocks glasses. “Would you like something to drink?”
“No, thank you.” I feel as though I need to let my nerves settle before I try to hold something breakable.
“Where’s Helen?” Cal asks, taking off his jacket and tossing it onto a chair beside him as if he’s at home. He gestures for me to sit next to him on the massive sectional sofa.
“She’s around somewhere,” Dexter replies, pouring what I assume is scotch into a glass. “So, Lauren, Cal tells me you’re an artist.” Dexter takes a seat next to us.
“I wouldn’t say that. I’m an art student,” I say modestly.
“She’s an artist; I’ve seen her work.” Cal gets back up, walks over to an oddly placed pool table, and racks the balls.
“I always wanted to be an artist until I found out I lacked the patience,” Dexter says. I see him look over, irritated at the noise Cal is making. “So in one word, how would you describe Cal?”
I’m a little caught off guard. “Umm, Cal is unique.” Unique? Where did that come from?
“I’ve never been called unique before.” Cal laughs, resting on the pool table.
“I think that’s the most honest flattering description I’ve heard about him.” Dexter laughs. “I like you already.”
His expression softens for the first time since I’ve met him, and my nerves start to subside. Dexter seems pretty cool. I should have known Cal wouldn’t hang out with a man with a stick in his ass, even if he is Cal’s boss.
“Too bad—she’s mine.” Cal walks up behind me and leans over the couch to wrap his arms around me. His lips touch my neck, and I feel my cheeks heat up.
“Yes, you’ll have to settle for me.” A beautiful, tall brunette comes in with a bag that distinctively says Harry Winston, and she tosses it to Dexter as if it were from Wal-Mart.
“How much is this going to cost me?” He looks up at the woman curiously.
“Nothing you can’t afford,” she retorts then casually sits across his lap and pecks him on the lips. Her attention turns to Cal and me for the first time. “You’re on time,” she tells Cal sarcastically.
“I’m not late that much,” he defends himself.
“No, you just never show up when you say you will,” she retorts with a smirk. She turns her attention to me. “You must be Lauren.” Her eyes survey me as women usually do. She leaves Dexter’s lap and offers her hand. “I’m Helen, Dexter’s wife.”
“Very nice to meet you,” I reply as we shake hands.
“So has Cal been behaving himself?” she asks, giving Cal a faux warning look.
“I’m always on my best behavior.”
“Of course you are.”
“So what’s the plan for the evening?” Dexter breaks into the exchange.
“Well, I made a reservation for Luc to come and serve dinner at eight,” Helen says with a toss of her hair. “Which is perfect since you and Cal should be back by then.”
I see Cal shoot her a warning look.
“You’re leaving?” I ask him tightly.
He said nothing about leaving me here alone. Helen seems nice and all, but the whole reason I did this was to finally meet the people closest to him. I didn’t want to just be dumped on his best friend’s wife. I look behind me to see him standing with his hands in his pockets. The tension in the room goes up a notch.
“Helen, how about you come show me what else you bought, because I know this isn’t all of it,” Dexter says, excusing him and Helen.
When they’ve disappeared from the room, I stand up to face Cal. He walks toward me, but I look away from him. This was not part of my plan for the evening. He wraps his arms tightly around my waist, pulling me against him
“I won’t be gone that long,” he promises, caressing my back, which always distracts me from what he’s saying. “It’ll give you and Helen some time to get to know each other.” He slips his hand under my blouse.
I step away from him. I can feel my temperature rising, and by that sly grin on his face, I see that he can too. He puts his fingers through a belt loop on my pants and pulls me back toward him, our chests colliding.
“I’ll make it up to you,” he whispers before covering my mouth with his and biting my lower lip gently.
I feel his hands slide down my back, his warmth sending sensations through my body that are completely uncalled for at this moment. I wrap my arms around his neck when he deepens the kiss. He always does this. I can be completely focused on what he’s saying or what I’m saying, then he goes and kisses me like this and everything just seems unimportant. He pulls away with a satisfied grin.
“You’re good?” he says quietly, knowing I’m okay.
I nod and lick my lips.
“Dex says he’ll meet you downstairs.”
Helen’s voice interrupts us, and I remember we’re in someone else’s house. Helen is walking back into the room. An amused look spreads over Cal’s face at my reaction, and he lets me go. I glance at Helen in total embarrassment, but she just smiles as she flops onto the couch and crosses her legs.
“I’ll see you later, okay?” he says and steals a kiss from my neck.
“Stay out of trouble,” Helen says in a motherly tone as he grabs his jacket.
“Don’t I always?” He winks at us both before leaving the room.
I fold my arms around myself. Here I am in a strange house with a woman I don’t know at all. What’s there to be nervous about? I expect awkwardness to fill the room, but before it does, she begins to speak.
“You’ll get used to that,” she says, lighting a cigarette.
I look at her curiously. “Used to what?” I hope she’s not a chain smoker. I have to deal with enough of them at work.
“Oh, sweetie.” She laughs and walks toward me.
I hold my breath from the smoke.
“We have a lot to talk about.” She smiles deviously before linking arms with me. “Let’s go on the terrace,” she says, leading the way.
I can already see this night is going to be interesting.
When we reach the terrace, my jaw drops to the floor. I thought Cal’s view from the penthouse was amazing.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” she says, making herself comfortable at a beautifully set table to the right of us. “I was the same way when I first saw it.”
There’s all-white furniture on the terrace, which stretches for miles, and lit candles drown out the smell of her cigarette before we reach the door.
“Of course it wasn’t like this,” she says, waving at the impeccable outdoor furniture and luscious greenery that lines the balcony wall, “but I saw the potential.”
“You did this?” I ask in shock as I sit next to her. The balcony’s done in a completely different tone from the Gothic rooms I walked through.
“Well, the design and such. I told the decorator exactly what I wanted, and she did it,” she says, putting out her cigarette.
“This is so beautiful,” I admit, still taking in my surroundings.
“Thank you. I wish Dexter would let me have my way with the rest of the house, but he says a man’s house is his kingdom, or something to that effect,” she explains with another toss of her hair. That seems to be her signature move, and she uses it to very good effect. “So give me the story of you and Cal. I know the watered-down version Dex passed on to me. Men are so vague about things like that.” She rests her chin in her palm as if she’s ready to hear a good tale.
I exhale. I don’t really like getting into details either. I never feel comfortable talking to people about things like that. “Well, we met where I work.
I ran into him, literally, and he spilled a drink on me.”
“And how long have you been seeing each other?”
“About five months.” Actually, it’s been five months and fourteen days, but who’s counting? “And now I’m here to get approval from you guys, I suppose.” I laugh, feeling a bit more comfortable with her.
“Oh no, Lauren, don’t worry about us. Cal does what he wants. He’s here to show you off,” she states in a matter-of-fact tone. “In fact, just between you and me?” She leans in as if she’s giving away a top secret. “You’re the first girl he’s brought to meet us, or at least me.” She winks at me.
I can’t help but smile, but for some reason, knowing that makes me feel nervous all over again.
“So there must be something to you other than being stunning.” Helen giggles, and I blush at the compliment. “Dex and Cal have a thing for beautiful women, and beautiful women have a thing for them.” She sighs, shifting in her seat. I swallow my nerves, but she notices my expression. “Don’t worry, it takes more than a pretty face to sway them. They aren’t idiots like the average male.” She chuckles.
“How long have you known Cal?” I ask, still feeling a little uneasy.
“Let’s see, I think this year—about six years. Yeah, that’s about right.”
“So Dexter and Cal are really close?”
“Like brothers. It’s good for them, especially since Dex is an only child, and Cal doesn’t really have anyone.”
I can’t help but feel sad at the last part of what she says. I knew Cal was adopted, but I never really thought about him not having anyone. I know his parents have always been a sore subject. After my parents’ deaths, I felt alone, but really, I always had a great relationship with Raven. I just assumed he and his adopted parents were cordial, if not close.
“How did you and Dexter meet?” I ask, changing the subject.
She smiles softly. “He was at a benefit for Chicago General, where I used to work. I didn’t know who the hell he was, but he walks up to me and says, ‘I’ll donate a million dollars tonight if you go out with me.’ Now here I am, disgusted by this audacious man who, I assume, is a liar. So I told him, ‘If you donate a million dollars, I’ll run around this hotel naked,’ so he laughs and walks away. I didn’t think anything else of it. Ten minutes later, the superintendent of the hospital announces that Dexter Crestfield Jr. has just donated ten million dollars to the hospital, and when I see him walk up there, my heart just stops.” She laughs, and I join in with her.
“It gets better. After his speech—during which, by the way, he held eye contact with me the entire time—he walks right up to me, leans over, and whispers, ‘I’d prefer my house,’ and leaves me his number,” she finishes with a grin.
“Wow,” I say, shocked. “That’s a great story.”
“Yeah, he’s such a snide son of a bitch. But I like that about him, and he’s sweet when he wants to be. Well, you know what I mean. Cal is a cocky bastard himself.”
I’ve never thought of him as cocky as much as confident. He doesn’t care what anyone says or thinks about him because he knows that they all either want to be him or sleep with him, depending on their preferences. He does what he wants, when he wants. It’s just routine.
“Enough about us. What about you. Kids, marriage?” she asks, lighting up another cigarette.
“With Cal?” I ask, confused.
“Well, yes, or period,” she says, taking a drag.
“I—well, we haven’t known each other that long.” I stutter a little over the answer. She’s really getting to the point, isn’t she?
“Well, are you the type of girl who dreams about getting married or wants to put it off as long as possible?”
“I see myself married with a family one day. I’d love to travel abroad then come back and do something that really makes a difference, but I don’t know. Marriage at least is pretty far away.” I laugh.
“You never know.” She chuckles.
I look at the sunset.
“What I mean is that I was the same way. When I met Dex, I planned to just have fun with him and ended up falling in love. Two years later, he asked me to marry him, and no one says no to a Crestfield.” She laughs, putting out her cigarette. She then pulls out a pack of gum.
“For some reason, I don’t think Cal is the marrying type.” I laugh.
Helen walks to the ledge and sits on it. “Trust me, the worst thing you could do with Cal is assume.” She turns her attention away from me to the sky.
I wonder what she means, but I don’t question her any further. I almost feel as though I’d be going into territory Cal wouldn’t want me to. The sun settling on the horizon is amazing.
“Would you like a piece?” she says, offering up the pack of Winterfresh.
“Thanks.” I guess you have to keep gum when you smoke. I look up and see Helen staring at me, so I look away quickly.
“Lauren, I’m going to share something with you.”
My stomach drops at her sudden change of tone.
“I don’t know how you feel about Cal. From what I can tell, you really like him. From what Dexter tells me, he really cares about you. I’ve known Cal for so long—he’s like a brother to me. I’m going to tell you this, something I wish someone had told me so I didn’t have to learn it the hard way. Dexter is a very complicated person, and so is Cal. There are going to be times when you won’t know what his problem is, but for there to be any hope for you two to have a meaningful relationship, you need to fully accept that. You’re going to have to accept him for who he is—all of him—even the part that you may never know…”
She breaks her serious expression, and the whimsical grin from earlier returns. “Who knows—maybe Cal isn’t like Dexter. Maybe he’ll be a lot more open with you than Dex is with me. It doesn’t bother me at all. Frankly, the less I know, the better, but some people can’t handle that.”
Her gaze is intense and makes me uncomfortable. Suddenly, I feel as if I’m on trial. I clear my throat.
“It’s getting chilly out here; I’m going to go inside.” She stands.
“I think I’m going to stay out here little while longer,” I tell her.
“Okay, I’m going downstairs. Luc should have arrived by now. I’m going to see how he’s doing. The kitchen is on the first floor, far left. You’ll see it as soon as you get there,” she explains.
I nod.
“Well, that’s where I’ll be. If you want a jacket, we have some in the closet in the room we went through to get here. Just grab one.”
“I’m fine. I just want to soak this all in, if you don’t mind.”
“I understand completely. Come down when you get ready, or wander wherever you want to go in the house. Make yourself at home—just don’t get lost.” She laughs before leaving.
The sun has fully set, and the sky is black with the stars and candles lighting my space. I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting out here. I’ve been trying to analyze and justify the words Helen so kindly shared with me. I want to make light of the heavy words hidden behind her whimsical, sarcastic demeanor.
They scare me, and I don’t know why. I’ve been with Cal for five months and my feelings have grown stronger every day I’m with him, but I haven’t thought about marriage. Sure, I’ve fantasized about it but not taken it seriously. I can’t see myself married to a man who has a world full of secrets. I’m just being silly. There’s no way I’d marry Cal if I felt as if I didn’t know him. That just wouldn’t happen. Besides, Dexter and Cal are two different people, even if what she said is true. Or maybe she’s looking for something that isn’t there or trying to scare me off.
I’m snapped out of my thoughts when I feel a warm hand slip up the back of my shirt. I turn to see Cal smiling at me. He sits beside me and pulls me onto his lap.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, searching my eyes.
“Nothing. Why?” His body heat surrounds me, and I realize how cold I am.
“Well, I come out here expecting some kind of welcome, and you sit here in a daze. You didn’t even realize I was here. I’m a little insulted.” He smirks.
“Just daydreaming…” I say, resting my head on his shoulder.
“Liar.” He laughs but drops the subject. “How long have you been out here?” He wraps his jacket over my shoulders.
I smile thankfully. “About half an hour.” Well, more like an hour and a half.
“How’d you like Helen?” he asks.
“She’s nice,” I say before kissing him softly.
“Nice? Helen isn’t nice; she intimidates, manipulates, and frustrates. And that’s when she likes you.” He laughs, amused.
I roll my eyes playfully. “Then why did you leave me with her?”
“I knew you could handle it.” He glides his lips across my neck then brushes them across my lips. “So what’d she say about me?” he mumbles. He’s such a tease sometimes.
“Other than you’re a ruthless playboy who breaks hundreds of girls’ hearts? Nothing much,” I kid before giving in to his teasing and entangling his lips with mine. I pull away to catch my breath and look into his eyes.
“What?” he asks.
Maybe Helen was just manipulating me, as he said earlier. Maybe she’s wrong; she has to be.
“Nothing.” I smile.
May 11th 2011
May 11th, 2011
I wonder if it’s too late to turn things around, if I’ve accepted the way things are for too long. Is it too late for him to break the hard mold he’s created around himself? He says he wants me to accept him for who he is, but how can I do that when I’d be settling for a person I can never fully know? Accepting him this way would turn me into a doormat. I-I can’t, can I?
I take a deep breath and finish placing the last item into my suitcase and grab my keys from the dresser. I glance in the mirror, assessing my appearance. My face is tired. Even after showering and applying a bit of makeup, my eyes are still puffy from crying all night. I don’t want to give up on him—on us—but he has to see that I’m serious. Yes, I told him to go, and I wanted him to go at that moment, but the root of the problem is that he’s so far away from me. Now he is, both literally and figuratively.