Seduction by Song (5 page)

“I don’t know, Erin. You’ve grabbed me and you’re refusing to let go—I’m a poet by trade and I don’t know if I have a good explanation I can put into words. But you know what? We don’t need one.” He leans in closer and lowers his voice to a whisper, as though he’s telling me some great secret, to say, “I’m going to make you mine, over and over and
over
—.”

I stand again, abruptly. My hands are shaking at my sides, partly from rage and partly from a strange feeling of excitement that I don’t even want to put a name to. I couldn’t possibly be
excited
about this—this absurd chase that he’s promising to pursue.

Could I?

“Fine,” I say once I’ve gotten my nerves under control, “but you’ll find yourself proven wrong, you know. It’s going to take more than some fancy dinner to make me fall for you.”

“Trust me, I’ve
got
more,” he says as his lips curl up into a smirk.

Not wanting to hear more, I grab my bag and leave. It isn’t until I’m nearly home that I remember that
he
was supposed to leave, that I was supposed to be left alone to my work with my table.

I sigh, shaking my head as I make my way into my room, waving a quiet hello to April when I find her still hard at work with the oven. The way Romeo rattled me with his presence was completely unacceptable. I had to learn to keep my cool around him.

Just one night
, I tell myself.
Just one night, and he’ll be gone forever
.

And if I feel any lingering excitement, I tell myself it’s over the thought of getting rid of him—and not,
definitely
not, over our impending date.

Ten days proves to be a hell of a long time. After telling April about my latest run in with Romeo and his proposition, I resolve to put the whole thing out of my mind for as long as possible. April is kind enough to not press me for details. She even helps me fill my days with things to keep my mind off of the date—teaching me how to bake some simple cakes and even taking me with her on a few catering jobs.

She can’t babysit me all day, though, and I don’t expect her to. I throw myself back into my work and pump out a good twenty pages of notes before hitting a snag. A book I could have sworn I already bought turns up missing and the local library didn’t have a copy.  Annoyed, but simultaneously grateful for having something to keep me busy, I make an appointment with my professor to discuss the research that I needed to do, hoping to find another source of the information.

Fortunately, she finds me a copy of the very book I’m looking for in her own private library and allows me to borrow it for a few weeks. After I thank her and review the progress I’ve been making over the summer, I take off towards the quad with plans of loitering about for a
few minutes to kill some time before catching the bus home.

As I get closer and closer to the center of student life, I notice a huge commotion by the clock tower. Speakers have been set up all over the stage area, where student bands sometimes performed for passing audiences during the lunch rush, and a group of what looked to be every single student taking summer classes had gathered around the place. I peer over to try and make sense of what’s going on there—I hadn’t heard of any special events or guests scheduled to appear over the summer, but it must be something
really
special to hold such a large crowd.

“I
just
heard,” a bubbly young brunette says into her cell as she passes me, quickly making her way towards the crowd. “Mmhm. I don’t know what they’re casting for, but oh my
God
. Romeo Ortiz is right
here
! We’ll get to
audition
for him! Get here—
now
.”

I blink at the snippets of conversations I catch, staring as she disappears into the crowd. I could have sworn she said
Romeo Ortiz
, but that’s just—I sigh. That’s just my luck.

As though on cue, Romeo appears on the makeshift stage under the bell tower, just barely visible
over the crowd. I watch him joke around with the crowd, getting closer to his fans than I ever expected him to, before turning to make a break for the nearest building, the campus bakery.

Of course, I move just a second too late.

“Well,
well
,” Romeo says, his voice booming out loud over the sound system as he begins to speak into a microphone. “Look at that—our leading lady has appeared.”

I cringe, knowing without turning around that he’s speaking to me. I’m tempted to keep walking away like I hadn’t even heard him, but a few people standing near me are starting to stare at me. I sigh and turn, tipping my head in acknowledgement to Romeo. The crowd parts like the Red Sea as he steps off of the stage to jog towards me, leaving the mic with a confused and star-struck blond in the audience.

“What are you doing here?” I ask before he can open his mouth to say something annoyingly charming. I begin to walk away before he can answer, wanting to distance myself from the crowd and knowing that he would follow me, anyway.

He does, of course, follow me, with that curl of a smile on his face again. “As if you don’t know? Aren’t you here to claim your role in our newest music video?”

“I am not,” I reply stiffly, stopping once we’re far away enough that people have stopped staring, instead focusing their attention on whomever else just took the stage.

“Shame,” Romeo says, not sounding the slightest bit surprised. “We were looking for a girl just like you—smart and beautiful, with a perfect frown and a perfect smile. You’ll reconsider, won’t you? We’re filming right here.”

I force a flush down from my cheeks at the compliments—as kind as his words are, I know for a fact that he has ulterior motives here. “You’re shameless, Mr. Ortiz. Tell me—did the create the role after finding out I attended school here or did you decide to film here after finding out I attended school here, hm?”

He laughs, pushing a hand through his hair to smooth his thick locks back. “Bit of both. Flattered?”

“
Totally
,” I say, sarcasm dripping off of the word. “I’m not interested, Romeo.”

He pulls a face that’s almost like a pout as he clutches a hand to his chest. “Ouch. I’m
hurt
.”

I stifle a laugh. The expression is so melodramatic that I can’t help finding it funny. He grins as though he knows he’s succeeded in making himself—well, at least
somewhat
tolerable. A sense of humor is a start.

“You’ll live.” I tilt my head back at his waiting crowd. “There’s hundreds of girls there dying for a role.”

“But
you’re
the one I want,” he says, his voice and demeanor going completely serious all of a sudden. His eyes darken as he straightens, the words ringing true in my ears—I still couldn’t fathom
why
they would be true, but there was no doubting that he was earnest about this at the very least.

Before I can formulate a response, he’s taking one of my hands and pressing a business card with some details scribbled on the back in blue pen into my palm.

“When you change your mind, the details for the shoot are right here,” he says, closing my fingers gently around the paper. “I’ll see you soon, Erin. Dinner. You won’t forget.”

As he leaves, I keep my fingers curled around the business card and realize that I can’t even bother being offended that he would assume I
would
change my mind. I sigh to myself as I begin to make my way off campus, realizing that I’ve probably missed my bus.

Was I really getting used to Romeo’s attitude? No—it couldn’t be. Surely I was just too tired to react.

No matter—it would all be over soon.

Although I wasn’t what anyone would call
invested
in Romeo or our upcoming date, I was still a girl at heart—the type of girl who thought any excuse to dress up was a brilliant excuse. With my classes requiring business casual clothes and personal life all but dead, chances to get dolled up were far and in between these years.

So, naturally, when April insisted that we make a trip to the mall to get be done up properly for my date, I wasn’t going to complain.

“It doesn’t matter if it’s Romeo, if you never intend on seeing him again,” she had reasoned. “We’ll get you smoking so hot he’ll
have
to see what his damn attitude cost him.”

I had laughed and agreed to go along
because enlightening Romeo didn’t sound like such a bad idea. Besides, it would be the first time in a long time that I got to have a day for myself. Sure, there were those frequent trips to the mall with Maddie before the concert, but those had been more for her than anyone. I wasn’t dying to be the center of attention all the time, of course, but it wasn’t a bad feeling to be just that every once in a while.

April treats me to lunch at a slightly upscale restaurant where she hopes to file an application for a job as sous-chef once she gets her references in order, then parades me around the mall to all our favorite shops. We find the perfect dress after a few hours. The green fabric is soft against my skin and the cut of it is just the right amount of slinky, just the right amount of revealing.

The price tag is a bit—well,
out
there, to say the least.

“Let me get it,” April says, grabbing it from my arms when she sees me starting to put it back on the rack. “Consider it an early Christmas present.”

“April, no!” I shake my head quickly, frowning sternly at her. “It’s too much for me. Besides, it’s the middle of summer—nowhere
near
Christmas.”

She laughs and starts to dash towards check-out, evading my attempts to grab the dress back from her. “Even better! It can be a late Christmas present
or
an early Christmas present!”

We argue over the dress for a while longer, but April is stubborn has hell once she’s made up her mind. I at least convince her to let me pay for half of it.

“And take you out to coffee?” I add, hopefully.

She laughs again and nods as we get in line. “Sure, hon. You can take me out to coffee.”

After we find a matching pair of pumps for the dress, we settle down in the food court with our haul. We change coffee to frozen yogurt and laugh together as April makes me pull the dress out and hold it to my chest, spinning around with it to show it off for her.

“
Beautiful
,” she says.

“Where the hell are you going to wear
that
to?” a completely different voice says from behind me.

I startle, nearly dropping the dress as I whirl around to face—oh. I fold the dress carefully and slide it back into its bag before turning to face the intruder in our conversation: my
dear
brother Logan.

Logan has this look of annoyance on his face, the same look that’s
always
on his face, as he glances at April and the bags by our table. With that annoyance always came with an air of disapproval, directed at me. I knew that he only wanted the best for me—he had a huge part in raising me with Dad after Mom left us, after all—but he cared in such an intimidating way that it was hard to see it as affection. My tough exterior always cracked under his scrutinizing gaze, and I have to take a deep breath before forcing myself to smile up at him.

“Hi, Logan,” I say, a bit stiffly. “What are you doing here?”

“Work,” he says curtly. He’s still looking at the bag that I had slipped my new dress into. “You’re going to
wear
that?”

I groan inwardly. Most girls had to deal with their fathers catching them by the scruff of their neck and pulling them back inside the house to make them change during their high school years—in
my
case, this role was played by my brother.

“Yes, Logan,” I answer, my voice so even that it might as well have been mechanical. “I have a date.”

“Yeah? How long have you been seeing the guy?”

I look back at April just as she pulls a face at Logan. She didn’t care much for my brother, but she knew that I didn’t like others interfering with my family life. Logan was a bit crass about how he treated my father and I, but I did know that he
does
care.

“It’s—it’s a first date.”

Logan’s frown deepens. “You’re wearing
that
on a first date? Christ, Erin, it’s practically lingerie!”

I can practically hear April fuming behind Logan’s back. Logan was exaggerating, of course—the dress had a modest slit up the leg and revealed maybe half of my back as well as my shoulders. He would never be content unless I bundled up like I was about to live in Siberia, though, and I knew better than to argue with him.

“I’ll—I’ll look for something else,” I say, knowing that he wouldn’t actually be able to check on me to make sure I kept that promise. Lying to him had always been easier than trying to argue.