Requisite Vices (15 page)

Chapter 18

Riley is sitting on the edge of my bed
,
gently shaking my shoulder as I groan. Is it so much to ask for a few more hours of sleep?

“Cass…” she whispers.

I roll my eyes and look over at her. She’s dressed in a white, flowing skirt and black top. I glance out the window; it’s still pitch black and she doesn’t look like she’s slept yet.

“Cass! Oh, thank god!” she squeals, and wraps her arms around me best she can, in a huge bear hug. She pauses, then inhales deeply with her arms still wrapped around me.

“Cass…” she hesitates as she pulls away, staring at me with scorned eyes “you smell weird. Musky, like a man…where have you been?”

“I went to a bar. I guess the shower didn’t completely get rid of the stench of desperate, sweaty, gross men. Remind me never to go there again. And what do you mean ‘Thank god’? I’m not dead.”

“I came home last night and you weren’t here, then I saw that you still weren’t home by the time I finally went to bed. I called a few times and didn’t get an answer. I was worried!”

“I’m fine. It’s still dark…what time is it? Why are you waking me up? What are you dressed for?” I grumble. This is not exactly how I’d prefer to start my morning.

“You need to get up. Ethan will be here any minute.”

“Ethan? For what?”

“How much did you drink last night, Cass?” she asks, raising an eyebrow. “You’re supposed to take Ethan to the airport.”

“What? No, that’s tomorrow. What time is it?”

“It’s 4 a.m.”

“But he’s not leaving till Wednesday.”

“Cass, it
is
Wednesday.”

Fuck.

I jump from the bed and rush to the bathroom, pulling on whatever I can find and dunking my head in the sink. As I run down the steps with the comb still picking through my curls, I open the door and am greeted by Ethan; his hand poised where the door had been just moments before in a pre-knock gesture.

“Ethan! I’m ready. Let’s go.”

Before he has time to say a word, I grab his hand and lead him to the car, hopping in and revving the engine.

“I’m so sorry,” I explain frantically. “I must’ve lost track of the time…or days. I’ve been really busy lately…”

“It’s fine Cass. We’ll still make it on time.” He reaches over and squeezes my hand gently as I shift the car into gear. My stomach lurches at his gesture; I feel like I’m going to throw up. Maybe I shouldn’t have had those drinks.

The drive to the airport is quiet, though I suspect that’s due more to the hour and how tired I’m sure we both are. I’m struggling to keep my eyes open in the darkness, the images of the last several days languidly sliding through my mind like drifting dreams etched out on the passing asphalt. How could I have gone through the last few days and completely forgotten what I’ve done? They’re all one in the same, the hours and days. It’s a monotonous droll of existence, and so, my mind seems to have seen fit to just merge it all into one. I really should get out more. Maybe the daylight will help to segment the days.

I peek quickly over at my passenger as we hit the spillway. His head is lolled off to the side, resting between the headrest and the window. His eyes are closed and his hair ruffles faintly in the current kicked up by the air conditioner, tickling the collar of his shirt.

We pull into a parking spot in the predictably empty airport, and I rouse him. Once we’re inside, we navigate our way down stairwells and between over packed suitcases to the counter. As he picks up his tickets from the counter, he turns and wraps his arms around me. The smell of him clings to my body as I wrap my arms around him in turn, and hug tightly. For a brief second, his arms squeeze the stress and worries from my body. I inhale deeply, letting the turmoil fade from my head, and I feel happy. Happy, and at peace, and it does nothing but fuel a tiny spark of anger. I don’t deserve this; I don’t deserve any gesture so kind. Not after who I am and what I’ve done. What…have I done?

I drop my arms to pull away but he doesn’t release me. His face buries itself in my hair.

“I wish you could come with me.” He murmurs softly, his voice muffled by my thick curls.

“I’m sorry?”

He finally releases me and holds my gaze; those ever shifting eyes of his are mesmerizing. Reaching up, he gently twirls one of my curls around his finger.

“I’ll be up there for a few weeks. You should come with me. We could tour the city, and I know you miss your family there.”

“Ethan, this isn’t exactly something you can spring on me. I have work…I have prior obligations and appointments, and now is not the best for me to go back up there, anyhow.”

“But don’t you miss being with them? Where’s that spontaneous spirit!”

“I really…I don’t think I could see my family right now. I’m sure they’re busy too.”

My phone vibrates wildly in my back pocket and I reach for it, Ethan’s eyes still holding mine as if he’s daring me to answer it. I glance at the screen and my heart decides it’s a fine time to travel into my throat. I silence the phone and slip it back.

I’d really rather not get into the reasons why I don’t want to see my family, or why I can’t just hop a plane and travel 1,300 miles away. Perhaps I could just defuse the situation.

I reach over and grab his hand, beaming sweetly at him.

“I’ll still be here when you get back, and we can hang out more. Until then, you could always give me a call, you know. Besides, it’d be a bit awkward taking a trip when I have no luggage with me. I’m not spontaneous enough to hop a flight for several weeks without a single change of panties.”

He smiles and leans down, kissing my cheek.

“Then I guess I shall say goodbye. I was hoping, on a whim, you’d join me in the air. Where is your sense of adventure!” he laughs, and brings my hand to his lips, kissing gently. “I look forward to seeing you upon my return.”

“As do I.” I smile forcefully, hoping that it comes off as genuine. The chances of me allowing myself to warm up to him are slim, but he does have this very renaissance worthy nature. He possesses this sweet, hopeless romantic personality, and it sings to my secret pinning for a story book ending.

He releases my hand, straightens his dress coat with both hands, and takes off for the gate. As I wave him off, my phone begins vibrating again in my back pocket. I remove it and glare at the screen. It’s him again. Of course it is. Days of unanswered replies to my scattered messages, and he expects me to jump whenever he calls upon me? Ridiculous.

Torn, mostly from guilt of ignoring a call regardless of the caller, I answer the phone.

“Hi…”

“What are your plans today?” he asks, stifling a yawn. Frankly, I’m surprised he’s awake. It’s just past six and I haven’t known him to wake much before eight. Not that I know him well enough to predict his sleeping habits.

“I’m uh…” dare I tell him I’m even in the area? He hangs on the other end of the phone in silence, awaiting my answer, and I know lying to him wouldn’t work. Lying to others isn’t easy. Lying to myself, however, is a cake walk. Anyone can be convincing if they’ve first convinced themselves.

“My day is free, for the most part. I have to finish working on a piece that I’d like to have turned in by Friday.”

“Ah. You should bring it over and let me take a look. Is it the one about me? Where are you?”

My heart is racing now from the sound of his voice playing their lovely lyrical notes through my ears.

“I’m at the airport. I was dropping off a friend…” Maybe he won’t ask.

“Which airport?”

Damn.

“New Orleans.”

“Oh wonderful. You’re close, then. There’s no excuse. Do you have your article with you?”

I thumb the flash drive on my keychain. It goes with me everywhere, and I have everything I’ve ever written backed up on it. This flash drive has traveled with me throughout my high school and college years, and has still held up strong. It still has every paper and poem I’ve written. I could never bring myself to delete anything, and often find myself reading back over things I’ve written in the past on whims of nostalgia.

“I have a copy,” I answer softly “but it’s on a flash drive. It’s not a hard copy, or anything.”

“That will do. You’re about fifteen to twenty minutes away, yes? I expect you soon.”

“Where should I…”

“The Quarter. I’m sure you remember how to get here.” He interjects.

With that, he hangs up and I’m left listening to dead air. The busyness and general clamor of the airport builds around me to a deafening crescendo, as I catch up to my surroundings. I’d been whisked away from the moment I heard him, to a place where only the sound of his voice existed, and now find myself disoriented by the lights and sounds that are assaulting my senses.

Not wanting to disappoint, I head to my car and try to remember how to get to his home. As I weave through the small, confining one way streets of New Orleans, my heart rate begins to pick up with anticipation as I do a piss poor job of parallel parking just a block down the road from his house. Thankfully there’s enough room for a bit of error between the two cars, and I manage to squeeze between them without causing any damage. I grip the wheel, take a deep breath, and convince myself to leave the car.

I walk through the courtyard, up the few steps to his front door and am surprised to find the door already cracked open. Walking through the expansive foyer to the back of the house, I find him sitting on the couch, his left ankle resting on his right knee to create a desk for his laptop. He looks up and smiles as the first hints of morning slip through the courtyard, shimmering down the foyer and brushing their fingertips on the edge of the living room.

“Come in! Please.” He pulls the arm chair parallel to the couch, facing where he’s seated. “Why don’t you have a seat” he smirks.

Oh…I remember that chair.

I blush as I cover the few feet between us, and sit in front of him, my body shifting in the seat as memories of it shoulder their way to the front of my mind.

“So, Miss Roman, why don’t we take a look at that article?”

My fingers wrap around my flash drive possessively. I’ve never let anyone touch it before. It’s my baby. My heart is in these files.

“I uhm… would you mind if I pulled it up for you?”

“Not at all.”

He passes his laptop to me, and I run my fingers lightly over the keys, feeling the warmth from his hands still emanating from them. I plug the drive into the port, pulling up the article for him to peruse, then bite lightly on the inside of my cheek. It feels awkward having someone read my work while I’m there with them. I don’t mind when dozens or hundreds of people read my article in the magazine, but I’m never physically there while someone pours over it and critiques it.

Pulling the laptop from my lap, his fingers brush lightly over my thigh, sending a warm tingle from my toes to my heart. He rests the computer back on the desk fashioned by his legs; eyes shifting as he scrolls through the document. It’s impossible to read his expression. I’d hate to play poker with someone like him. What does he think? Does he approve? Does he think it’s a complete utter piece of shit? It’s not even finished yet. It’s just…fragments. Ideas. Everything is scattered, and I’m frankly embarrassed that he’s looking at it in this state.

After several minutes of silence and a few taps of his fingers to the keys, he saves the file and hands my flash drive back.

“It’s not bad. I’ve made some minor grammatical corrections for you to review when you get home. All in all, color me a tad impressed, Miss Roman. Especially considering it isn’t finished, and I didn’t give you all that much to work with. Now, what about your other homework? I do hope that, after all this time, you’ve found the time to complete it.”

His lips curl into a devious smirk, his eyes glinting just over the top of his glasses as he stares into my eyes. Oh those eyes. How I’ve missed them. My fingers lose their dexterity as I fumble over reattaching my flash drive to my key chain.

“My other homework?” I ask, attempting to sound innocent, but failing to hide the tremble in my voice.

He places the laptop on the floor, sliding it under the couch, then leans forward on his knees and holds my eyes firm with his own.

“Oh yes, Miss Roman. Your other homework. I really do hope you have it for me, lest there be consequences.”

I find it hard to break from his gaze. It’s penetrating; diving through my thoughts and seeking to unlock and unearth every deep secret.  I pull my phone from my pocket, dropping my eyes to the screen and running my fingers hesitantly over it.

“Would you mind reminding me of the assignment…just to be sure, of course, that I have got it correct.”

“I hope you aren’t asking me to repeat my instructions, Cassandra.”

He sits back, his hands resting relaxed on his thighs. He pats the side of the couch.

“Come sit down and show me your homework, quickly now. That’s it. Now face me and read it to me.”

As I settle in and face him, my hands begin to tremble with the phone in my hand. I’m not good at being put on the spot like this, even if it is just us. This man has seen every inch of my body, and now I’m speechless in front of him. I feel pathetic. I take a breath and bolster my courage.