Caged (11 page)

“This is a pretty sweet car,” he said, stroking the dash admiringly. “And I’m glad to see that you drive stick. Frankly, there’s nothing more annoying than people with automatic sports cars…such a waste.”

“Thanks. It was my dad’s car. He bought it shortly before…,” I started before pausing. “He bought it about a year ago. He loved it.”

I could feel him looking at me. I didn’t know what to say to break the awkwardness that I had so adeptly caused.

“Make a right up here,” he directed. “You can park in that lot over there.”

I did what he said, and we got out simultaneously in silence.

“Which building?” I asked, walking away from the car.

“So if he loved it so much, why did he let you have it?” he asked, ignoring my question. “An Audi TT is quite a present.”

I stopped walking, but didn’t turn to look at him. I heard him coming up behind me.

“I inherited it. It’s one of two things I kept, besides the money,” I said solemnly.

“So what’s the other?” he asked as he reached down and took my hand in his.

“My ring.”

He lifted my hand slowly, inspecting the hand he had just acquired.

“This one?” he asked, looking at the platinum band.

“Yep, it’s a family heirloom. It’s the only thing I have from my childhood that really means anything to me.”

“What about pictures of your parents? You didn’t keep those?”

“No point,” I said staring off at nothing, “I never knew what they looked like in life. I didn’t see a point in keeping photos to remember them.”

“So both your parents are gone?” He asked.

“Yes,” I whispered.

“What do you mean ‘I never knew what they looked like in life’?”

“Look, it’s a long story,” I snipped, pulling my hand away from him. “I was born blind. I can see now. That’s the short of it.”

The silence between us felt heavy. He cautiously took my hand again, and gave it a little tug, encouraging me towards the building. Again, I felt his stare on my face but couldn’t bring myself to look at him. I was with a man who rattled my every cell, and I was ruining it by bringing up my family baggage, and being a bitch about it to boot. I was disgusted with my behavior and wondered if I’d ever get past the social stupidity I was cursed with.

Not paying attention to what was going on around me, I hadn’t realized he’d stopped just short of the front steps. I ran into him with all the elegance of a battering ram. He captured my face, cupping it on both sides and kissed me like the world was coming to an end. I was pretty certain that if it had been, I wouldn’t have cared - I just didn’t want him to stop. My body temperature spiked so high that I was certain my proteins were denaturing as I stood in the street making out with Eric.

He pulled away abruptly, leaving me leaning towards his retreating lips.

“I just wanted to apologize for killing the mood,” he said, smiling.

“Is there anything else you want to apologize for?” I asked, my voice husky, panting for breath.

“I’m sure I can come up with some affront to make up for by the end of the night,” he said, guiding me up the stairs into the building.

“You’d better,” I countered as I walked past him into the foyer. “You’d better.”

16

I did my best to get a hold of myself on the elevator ride up to the penthouse. Eric seemed greatly amused by my obvious efforts, and did nothing to make them easier. He did not, however, kiss me again, and I was oddly thankful for that.

When we reached the door of the apartment, he stopped quickly and turned to face me. “I want you to stay near me tonight,” he said, his face serious. It seemed like a strange request, but I was happy to oblige. Hell, I’d have been happy if he wanted to paint me onto him and wear me around like clothing for the evening.

“OK,” I said without questioning him.

“Good,” he replied with a tight nod of his head.

He tightened his grip on my hand as we approached the apartment. He didn’t bother to knock, just opened the door as if it were his own place.
I guess they’re really good friends
.

I caught a glimpse of the place before entering and almost fell over. It was like nothing I’d ever been in before. It was the Taj Mahal of apartments, massive in every way. “Penthouse” implies a certain grandiosity, but I’d only been in one before, and Sean’s friend’s place didn’t even come close. This one even beat the hell out of Richard Gere’s in
Pretty Woman.

The ceilings were vaulted, with an occasional ornate column anchoring it to the floor. Those columns were clearly original to the building and stood imposingly throughout. The wall of windows on the far side of the space was so extensive that they covered virtually from floor to ceiling. The lighting was original leaded-crystal chandeliers, giving the impression of a reception hall more than a home. The entire abode was exquisite, and I felt horribly under-dressed to be in such a palatial apartment. When I looked at the people surrounding me, it didn’t help that feeling at all.

I was irritated that Eric hadn’t accurately described the event, downplaying the formality of the “housewarming party”. Perhaps if he’d used the word “soiree” when he informed me of our plans for that night, I’d have been far better apprised and able to make the appropriate wardrobe selection. Not that I owned anything fancy enough to be appropriate, however.

All eyes were on us, and I felt like shrinking into the glossy parquet flooring. The only thing that could have made it more of a B-movie moment would have been the music coming to a screeching halt. I clenched my jaw and waited for that shoe to drop.

I looked at Eric, panicked by my fashion faux pas, and it was only then that I really noticed his attire. He wore a black custom-tailored suit with a crisp, white button-down shirt, sans tie. He looked like he had stepped off of an Armani runway. Maybe he had. He was surely mortified at my out-for-drinks attire, and more so to be seen with me.

He watched as I panned over his outfit, a grin plastered to his face. He then returned the favor, his eyes sliding up and down every part of me. I watched in horror as he assessed my garb.

“Are those Louboutin’s from fall or winter last year?” he asked.

“Fff…fall,” I stammered.

“They’re amazing. You look amazing in them. By far the best pair in the room,” he said, matter-of-factly. “Even better than mine.”

“How did you know that?” I asked, revisiting the gay issue in my mind.

“I know
all
things expensive and exquisite, Ruby. It’s important to me,” he replied, eyeing me strangely.

Duly noted.

I hadn’t noticed that the party had resumed while we were doing our reciprocating wardrobe checks, nor did I notice that we had been approached by a very handsome but intimidating looking man.

“Am I to assume this is your mysterious lady, Eric?” the gentleman asked.

“Yes…so sorry, Marcus. This is Ruby.”

“Indeed she is. Highly valuable and precious would describe someone of this beauty. Such a well-suited name,” Marcus said, honey rolling off of his tongue.

I extended my hand to shake his. Instead he took mine and gently brought it to his lips brushing it ever so slightly with them. He spoke with an accent that I couldn’t quite place: European, but muddled somehow, making it hard to pinpoint.

“Thank you for attending our little get-together,” said the distinguished looking blond.

“Thank you for having me.”

“You’ll have to excuse everyone here. Their manners are an atrocity. I’ve been trying to improve them, but you’d think they’d been raised by a pack of wolves.”

He and Eric laughed heartily at the comment and I joined in not wanting to be left out, as usual. When the laughter broke, Marcus gingerly took my arm and wove it under his.

“Eric, I think a few drinks are in order. Ruby, what will you have?”

“Um…whatever you’re having,” I said to Eric.

“Excellent then. Three champagnes please, Eric,” Marcus said, dismissing him with a wave of his hand. “While he does that, we’ll have a chance to get acquainted.”

I looked at Eric quickly, searching his face. He’d told me to stay near him.

“It’s OK, Ruby, I’ll be right back. Enjoy yourself,” he said, kissing me lightly on the forehead before walking away. As I watched his head disappear into the crowd of strangers, Marcus redirected us towards the windows and slowly paced us off.

“Eric has told me how you two met, so now I’d like to hear something specifically about you, dear. Tell me, where is your family from?” Marcus asked.

“I grew up in New Hampshire, both of my parents taught at Dartmouth College.”

“Oh how excellent,” he replied, “Academics! I do appreciate people with learning.” He leaned against one on the enormous windows, momentarily gazing outside. “Was it beautiful there? That’s in the Green Mountains, no? Fall must have been exquisite.”

“I…I wouldn’t know,” I fumbled. “I know it is where I am now though.”

“I’m not sure I follow, dear. Did you never spend fall at home? Ah! You were at boarding school, no doubt.”

I hesitated, trying to find the best way to explain my visual history. I was really hoping Eric would reappear and save me from the whole line of questioning entirely, but I had no such luck.

“No. No boarding school,” I replied while playing nervously with the hem of my shirt. “It’s a strange story really. The short of it is that I was born blind. I never saw the fall. I never saw anything.” Marcus looked stunned and taken aback. “It’s OK,” I said, trying to save the conversation. “I gained my vision after a trauma. The doctors call me a miracle.”

His expression changed to one of intrigue.

“Trauma, you say? How old were you?” he inquired.

“Twenty-eight.”

“Interesting,” he said, pushing off of the window. “What happened?”

He seemed oddly persistent in his inquiry and it was slightly off-putting; not conversational at all. It was more of a fact-finding mission and it made me uncomfortable.

Where in the hell is Eric?

“
My family…we were attacked in the woods. My parents were killed. I don’t like to talk about it,” I responded, unable to keep some of my change in mood in check.

“I’m so sorry, dear. Of course you don’t,” he said, his face softening. “Have they been gone long?”

“Nine months,” I said, with a hint of sadness.

The subject quickly changed to something more generic and lighthearted. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but something about his apology just didn’t seem sincere and it was really bothering me. He professed it a couple more times before Eric’s return, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was distracted, mentally piecing something together. His gaze was studious and the energy he put off was no longer friendly, but frustrated. I did my best to hide my suspicion with my lack of poker-face.

Eric returned shortly thereafter, and the three of us chatted for a bit, but something was becoming more and more off in the room. I sensed a growing wave of hostility and aggressiveness, which seemed to correspond directly to my increasing discomfort. I slammed the rest of my drink down my throat and tried to excuse myself to go outside and get some air. Eric wasn’t far behind me.

I wove my way through the mass of bodies, as my need for escape increased exponentially. I was nearing the end of the crowd when a huge male stepped directly in front of me causing me to bounce off of his chest and stumble backwards into Eric, who quickly shielded me behind him, stepping up to the wall of man.

“Do you have a problem, Duncan?”

The massive man laughed heartily before bending down to speak directly into Eric’s face.

“How could you bring the dessert and not expect to share it?” he asked.

Is this guy high? What dessert?

The room was suddenly so silent you could have heard the proverbial pin drop. All the men at the party were encircling us, closing in. Testosterone flooded the air. They wanted, or expected, a fight and had the energy to fuel one.

“Back off Duncan, she’s mine,” Eric said sounding far more menacing than I’d expected.

“I’m within my rights and you know it,” he replied calmly, inching closer to Eric.

“Ruby,” Eric said calmly, “I want you to follow me to the door. Hold onto my waist and don’t let go.”

I said nothing but latched onto him like a vise.

“She’s not leaving with you, Eric. She’s going to stay and play, aren’t you, Sugar?” Duncan asked, staring me down over Eric’s head.

I felt his body coil, ready to swing if Duncan came any closer.

“ENOUGH!” Marcus yelled. “Let them leave, Duncan. Your manners are appalling and we shall discuss them later.”

Duncan looked to Marcus in the back of the room in utter disbelief. Eric hustled towards the door, dragging me behind him without resistance from a single person there. He said nothing to me as he hauled me to the elevator. He continued his silence in the elevator, and on the way to the car, despite my attempts to interrogate him.