An Illicit Pursuit (16 page)

Six days. I spend six goddamn days in one of
the crappiest motels in LA, somewhere between Korea Town and
downtown, living on nothing but bread and water and crying my eyes
out. Zach hasn’t called me yet, and I can’t stop wondering why.
Does he, too, think this is the right thing to do? Or, does he hate
me so much that he can’t even bear the idea of calling me to check
up on me? I hate myself for secretly wishing for him to come and
find me and beg me to go back to him.

I don’t know how I’ll go through the next few
days, much less a life-long loneliness after spending so many years
with him, loving him and having him supporting me. I should have
been an egotistical bitch, and ignored Zach’s mother’s preaching,
and gone on with my happy life with Zach. I wouldn’t be hiding out
in this God-forgotten hole, waiting for some miracle to turn things
around.

As if things aren’t miserable enough, my car
got towed away, and I’m sitting on a bill over $270. Plus $35 more
for each night it stays at the tow company’s lot. I’m so pissed
off; leaving it to them doesn’t seem like a bad option right
now.

The only good thing that happened in the last
six days is my menstruation starting right in time.

Beside Adam’s numerous texts, my phone is
deadly silent. Not even that jerk of a producer tries to contact
me.

On Thursday, I wake up with Adam’s call.
Cursing under my breath, I hit the no button, but he keeps on
calling non-stop. I put it on silent in an attempt to protect my
tender nerves from further annoyance, only to find the battery has
died due to Adam’s insistent calls. I switch it on and plug it in
to charge, and as soon as it’s on, Adam’s incoming call appears on
the screen. I let it ring for ten full minutes before I finally
give in.

“Isn’t it obvious that I don’t want to talk?”
I yell as soon as I press the green button.

“Jesus, Pat. Are you okay? We’ve all been
worried that you were kidnapped or killed. Where are you?” Adam
sounds as if he’s ready to burst into tears, and I can’t help but
feel guilty for my earlier explosion. I’ve already caused Zach a
trauma—not to mention my own ordeal—I shouldn’t let another person
suffer along the way.

I clear my throat, take a deep breath, and
lower my voice to say, “I’ve been dealing with some personal
issues.”

“Do you need anything? Is there anything I
can do to help? Please don’t keep me in the dark.”

“Thanks, but no, there’s nothing you can
do.”

“You don’t need to come for the guitar class
if you don’t feel up for it.”

“Oh, that. I’d totally forgotten about it.”
Though I already cashed the five-hundred-dollar check Adriana had
paid me upfront for the classes. I shouldn’t take advantage of
their kindness. Besides, I have nothing to do, and my need for
distraction is too palpable to cope with by myself. “I’ll come. I
want to come.”

“Awesome. Come whenever you can.”

I suddenly remember the shortage of
transportation options available to me, and wonder whether I can
make it to their home with three buses minimum. Waiting at the bus
stops and standing in the crowd will be a hell of an experience.
“My car was towed away.”

“I can pick you up and drive you to the tow
place if you want.”

“Can you do it now? It’ll cost me some
pennies already. I don’t want the tow company to buy more land on
my account.”

“I’m at work right now, but I can come during
my lunch break. Say 11:30?”

Lunch? As in food? Funny how my stomach
doesn’t growl. Something’s seriously wrong with me. “Yeah, sounds
fine.” I give him the address of the motel and hang up.

I decide to use the shower in my room for the
first time since I check in and get my own towels from my suitcase.
I’d rather dry myself with my dirty clothes than the motel towels,
which may or may not have been used to wipe off sweat, sperm,
blood, or other bodily fluids of half a thousand people.

Adam knocks on my door, when I’m struggling
to shape my hair. I don’t know why I even care to look good. The
tow people will probably not mind if I show up with hair wilder
than a lion. I might even get a discount for crazy.

I open the door with the blow drier in my
hand and step aside to let Adam in. He’s surveying the room like a
federal inspector, his head slightly shaking left and right the
longer he examines it.

“You shouldn’t stay here. It’s
dangerous.”

“I shouldn’t cross on the red light for the
same reason, but I do.” I blow the curl off my face and go back to
the bathroom to finish fixing my hair.

He comes after me. I see his nose wrinkle as
he steps into the tiny bathroom. “The two things aren’t
related.”

I shrug. “I’m not sitting on a gold mine if
you haven’t noticed.”

“Well, you have friends who are as good as a
gold mine.” Before I can roll my eyes, he continues, “I won’t let
you stay like this. You’re coming to my place.”

“Says who?”

“Don’t be a dickhead. I’m trying to help. We
have enough rooms available. You can stay for as long as you
want.”

“How will I pay you? With sex? Forget about
it. I’d rather have the movie-theater shooter as a neighbor than
sleep under the same roof with you.” I soften my voice to tone down
my insult and not to sound like the complete bitch that I am.

“If I’m that repulsive to you, then I’m
checking in to the room right next door. How about that?”

I smile. I actually smile. And my face
muscles hurt a little, for not having been pushed upwards for a
long time.

“I see you’re warming up to the idea,” he
says, also smiling. “I’m sure there’re some holes I can peep
through, while you’re having a shower or peeing. How would you like
that?”

I narrow my eyes and cringe excessively for
him to notice. “Eww. You’d actually like watching me peeing,
wouldn’t you?”

“I’d rather watch that than watch you on the
five o’clock news.”

“You’re just exaggerating. It’s not half so
bad.”

“Says the girl who got gang-raped by a group
of drug dealers. I won’t argue more. Pack your bags; you’re coming
with me.”

“Then you wonder why the twins call you an
asshole. You’re worse than that.” I yell under my breath and storm
out to the bedroom to do exactly what he’s ordering me to do. I
can’t believe he’s treating me like one of his sisters. And worse,
I’m following his orders like a fool.

I basically throw all my clothes into the
suitcases, without caring which ones are clean, which ones are
dirty, or which ones are wet. I hear him making tsk sounds in
succession, before he comes beside me and stands between me and the
suitcase.

“You go ahead and fix your hair. I’ll pack
your suitcases.”

With my current level of sloppiness, I may
end up ruining my handful of expensive clothes that are reserved
for special occasions, like shows or auditions. So I throw my hands
up in the air to show I surrender and leave for the bathroom. I
blow dry my hair as much as I can and braid it quickly before going
back to the room.

“Hey,” I yell when I find Adam examining one
of my bras. A red, lacy one.

He jerks at his place, and the bra drops on
top of the clothes in the suitcase. “Just checking the size.”

“You don’t need to peek through my
undergarments. You could have just asked me.”

“Only to get slapped in the face. Yeah, I
should have asked you, instead.” He stands up, launches his knee on
the suitcase so he can zip it up, and then checks around the room,
probably to see whether he’s gotten everything. “You’re all set.
Let’s go.” He motions toward the door with his head, and I can’t
help but be furious with his commanding attitude.

“I’ll change my mind if you keep on acting
like my father.”

“My deepest apologies, your highness.” He
bows and gestures with his hand toward outside like a high-class
butler would do, but in a mocking fashion.

I let out an exasperated breath and stomp
toward the exit, watching him out of the corner of my eye as he
follows suit, with two heavy suitcases in his hand and one hanging
from his shoulder.

At the tow lot, the cashier shoves a $340
bill at me. My credit card choses this as the right time to be
maxed-out. So I shuffle through my purse for my debit card, only to
remember I forgot it in my bedroom back in Denver. I’ll have to
call Mom to have her send it to me.

As much a gentleman as one can be, Adam steps
forward to pay the fine with no nonsense. The guy at the cashier’s
window hands me the car keys as soon as Adam swipes his magical
credit card, which, I’m hundred percent sure, never maxes out.

“I’m not paying that back with sex, either,”
I hiss as we walk toward my car.

He stops cold, turns to look down at me, his
eyes as smoldering as ever. “If there is any financial transaction
to be undertaken for having sex with me, it’ll be you paying me for
it.”

“Yeah, right. I’m sure you have dozens of
satisfied clients.”

He laughs, tilting his head back as he does.
“I think I like you even better when you’re pissed off. Who stepped
on your tail, kitty? I should send my personal thanks to whoever it
is.”

“Knock it off, will you? I’m going through
some painful times, and your attitude isn’t helping.”

His expression hardens like he’s constipated;
he apologizes and says no more. I drive after him to his home,
without having even a chance to escape because he keeps my
suitcases hostage in the back of his BMW. I don’t even have the
luxury to think of him as a spoiled brat, since his help proves
just the contrary, with or without any latent intentions of getting
into bed with me.

I pull up in front of his home, which somehow
looks much bigger than I remember. He’s waiting for me by the front
door, and I hurry out of my car and pace toward him. I’m nervous
and start doubting the correctness of my decision to stay at
Adam’s. Dangerous or not, I’d rather stay in the motel instead of
being forced to put on a happy face for a group of strangers.

I walk hesitantly after Adam into his home.
Grace meets me in the hall, with her arms wide open for me, and for
some strange reason, I run, and throw myself into her embrace, then
let more tears stream.

“I’m glad you’re back, Pat. We were worried
about you.” Her voice is like Vivaldi’s Four Seasons to my ears,
soothing and encouraging. “Adam says you’re going to bless us with
your lovely presence.”

“I’m the blessed one,” I whisper and pull
back, wiping away my tears. “Thanks for having me.” I glance around
shyly, afraid that Adam will catch me in tears, but he’s not
around.

“Let’s get you settled.” She squeezes my
elbow briefly and walks to the stairs. “I don’t know whether Adam
told you already, but you’re welcome to stay for as long as you
need.”

I thank her and follow her upstairs and into
the guest room, which is at the opposite end of the twins’ bedroom.
I wonder where Adam’s is, but I guess he won’t keep it a secret for
too long.

Adam has already set my suitcase on the floor
and opened the windows to let fresh air in. The room is larger than
the motel room I stayed in, but doesn’t have any attached bathroom.
Am I going to run into Adam after a shower?

“The bathroom is right next door on the
left,” Grace says. “I’ll fix lunch for you two.” She smiles at me
then turns to Adam. “Are you going back to work?”

“Nah, I already called in to take the rest of
the day off. I’ve got midterms to study for anyway,” Adam replies,
standing in front of the window.

“Okay, I’ll see you in the kitchen.” Grace
leaves, closing the door behind her.

I sit at the edge of the bed, examining the
four walls that will be my company for at least a few days. “You
don’t need to skip work on my account.”

“No big deal.”

I haven't realized until now he's not in his
usual t-shirt-jeans duo and is actually wearing an exquisite grey
suit that flatters his muscular features. The crisp white shirt
accentuates his sun-kissed, smooth skin and brown hair. To finish
off the sexy businessman image, all he needs is a skinny girl in a
bikini on each arm.

He inhales, his chest expanding massively as
the air fills his lungs, and stares down at me with tender eyes.
"The room has been empty since we bought this house. Your occupancy
is a pleasure for us. Don't feel compelled to leave, thinking
you’re disturbing us. Stay for as long as you need. I mean it."

"Thank you." I fidget with my hands in my lap
and feel my cheeks grow hot. I’m uncomfortable because I'm not
usually offered favors without ulterior motives. "I guess I formed
a wrong impression about you."

"On, no. I still want to date you; nothing’s
changed about that." A smile curls his lips despite his efforts to
hide it.

I roll my eyes and grab a cushion to throw at
him. He flinches and rescues himself from the hit. "I have some
phone calls to make, but you can come and knock on my door anytime
you want. I'm only next door." He winks suggestively.

How convenient!

I throw myself back-first onto the bed, my
arms spread open. The mattress pulls me in, and I can't help but
relax instantly, forgetting Adam is still in the same room,
possibly staring at me.

I lift my head to shoot him a mocking glare
to send him off, and he gets my unspoken wishes and leaves me
alone. The bed is the best one I’ve set my butt on, and my eyes
feel too heavy and my body too relaxed to get up for the lunch
Grace’s preparing for Adam and me. I’ll close my eyes for only two
minutes, I think to myself before falling into a deep sleep.

I wake up, disoriented, with an urgent need
to pee and rush to the bathroom next door. Only, it's locked. So I
pace downstairs for the one and only bathroom I used here during my
previous visits. Destiny must want me to pee in my jeans to
embarrass myself in a house full of strangers because this one is
locked, too. Not just locked; I hear sounds of vomiting, and it
looks like whoever it is vomiting isn't anywhere close to
finishing. I squeeze my legs together and wonder whether it's
Nikki. I suppose my little scare tactic didn't help much.