Twisted Proposal (16 page)

“Uh, no. I don’t even know who she is. And I think it’s weird she wanted to take my picture. I’m not pretty. I’m quite plain, actually,” I pointed out, still unsure what she was getting at. Elizabeth always told me my nose was too big and my eyes were too far apart.

“Things are going to happen for you. Doors will be opened. And the crazy thing is you don’t even care.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way, but I’m only interested in getting into college. That’s it.”

              She laughed and crossed her arms. “College? Are you serious?”

              “Like a heart attack.”
Why did everyone doubt me?

              “Just a tidbit of advice. Girls like you never need to work. Let alone go to college.”

             
Why would she say that?
She didn’t know anything about me. “I don’t care what you think.”

              She sighed as if giving up. “Fine, if you insist, but can you promise me something?”

              I didn’t make deals with the devil, but it wouldn’t hurt to know her plans. “What?”

              “If you are in the position to help her out, you will.”

              “Who?”

“My daughter, Lexus.”

I didn’t want to do anything for her, but if it got her off my case…“Yeah, sure.”

              “I just want what’s best for my daughter.”

              I nodded and put my water on the counter. “Wait, does this have anything to do with Mr. Van Buren or Jackson?”

“No, dear, your father had forgotten he invited them to dinner. Mr. Van Buren’s looking for a partner to help him run his firm. It would be great if he chose Stuart, but I don’t know. Regardless, from what I can tell, it’s a huge deal.”

I know what I heard.
Instead of responding, I retreated to the inside patio, the most peaceful place in the whole house. Maybe it was earthy smell of the plants or the fact that I was hidden in plain sight. Either way, I liked being there.

Zach walked in and took a seat next to me.

“She can’t help it. You should meet our grandmother.” He shook his head. "Even worse."

              “I can only imagine.” We laughed.

              As though she were spying on us, Petra yelled at him through the intercom, “Zach, get ready. The car will be here any minute.”

              Zach threw his ball cap at the speaker and rolled his eyes.

“What, you don’t feel like going out?” I kidded, picking up the discarded hat.

              “Mom’s making me go to the country club with some snobs from school. Kill me now.”  Dropping to the couch, he pretended to have a seizure.

              “Can I go?” I needed to get out of this house, as I was on the verge of going stir crazy.

              “I don’t care. That is, if you don’t mind hanging out with a thirteen-year-old.”

“Anything to escape these walls.”

“Come on, let’s go see.” He was already at the door. Petra was on the phone and Lexus was texting at the table.
I wondered what they would do without their cell phones. Probably freak out.
I laughed to myself, as I imagined Lexus's fingers twitching in mid-air.

              “Mom, can Addison come with me to the club?” Zach asked, leaning on the marble countertop.

              “Are you sure she wants to go?” Petra stole a quick look at me.

              “Yeah, she wants to go. Right?” He peered over his shoulder at me, and I nodded.

              “If that’s what you want to do, then it’s fine by me. Just change your clothes.” She turned away. “Do you want to go, Lexus?”

              “Uh no, I’m not a loser,” she said, not looking up from her phone.

              “Good. We don’t want you there anyway,” Zach said as he pulled me along.

              What did I just get myself into?

Chapter Sixteen

Back in my bedroom, I watched Zach rummage through my closet. “I don't get it. Why do I have to change my clothes? Is she serious?"

“You do if you want to go.” Zach's voice was muffled.  A pair of expensive athletic shoes tumbled out of the closet onto the bedroom floor.

“Why can’t I just wear jeans and a tee shirt?”

“Because there’s a dress code.”

“Is there a dress code for everything?”  These people liked to make life complicated.

“Yes.” He handed me a pair of short blue plaid shorts and a white polo shirt.

“No way am I wearing that.”

“You want to go, you’ll change. Come to my room when you’re ready.” He left and I stared at the clothes.
Should I go with him?
The club was probably just another snooty place where I wasn’t welcome.
But it beat staying here.
I picked up the clothes and reached for my make-up and went to the bathroom.
My legs felt like rubber bands.

              “Ready?” Zach asked from the doorway of my room ten minutes later. He was wearing a pair of khaki shorts and a blue and white striped polo shirt. I guess he was ready to go.             

              “In a minute. I gotta fix my hair,” I said and parted my hair down the middle while he watched. “Can I ask you a question?”

              “What?” He scooted up on the bathroom counter.

              “How often does Jackson come over?”

              “He doesn’t. Yesterday was the first time he’s ever been over here. Lexus has invited him to like all her stupid girl parties, but he’s never showed up till last night.”

              “Interesting.”

“Why?”

“Just that he’s never come over before.”

“Yeah, but his dad came, so I guess it’s only normal. Since Jackson lives with them, he would come as well.”

“He still lives with his parents?” I scoffed.

“Yeah. Trust me I know way more than I would like, but Lexus’s been crushing on him since kindergarten. I mean, gag me.” Zach pretended to choke himself.

I laughed and we headed down the steps to where Petra waited.

“Now I want you to be nice to Blake this time, okay?” she directed toward Zach. She gave me a passing glance. “You look nice, Addison.” It wasn’t sincere, but I would take what I could get.

“Thanks,” I replied and followed Zach outside.

A black Bentley was waiting, complete with a driver in a suit and hat. He opened the door for us and greeted us by our names as we got in.

              “Do you guys always have people drive you around?” I asked once the door was closed.

              “I guess it just depends where I’m going.” Zach said and began texting on his phone as the car began to move.

              Our driver checked us out with the guards at the gate and I was finally free.

Neither of us talked on the way to the club. I was content to study my surroundings and him his phone.  Once we were out of the subdivision of mega mansions, I began to see normal life again. We passed residential houses and even a downtown area that reminded me of home, with locally owned business and restaurants. Then it all disappeared as we turned onto Country Club Blvd.

Thirty minutes later, we stopped outside of Kensington Country Club, a two-story sand-colored building. As we exited the car, I made a few people lounging near a large outside pool and others were out on the greens of lush golf courses, which rolled out beyond the clubhouse.

              “Welcome to my hell,” Zach complained as we headed inside. He led the way to a counter with a caged window that reminded me of an old-fashioned bank. “Need anything locked up?”

I shook my head, watching him while he checked in his phone and wallet. “There’s an Olympic-sized pool inside and out, a few tennis courts, sand volleyball, and even a bowling alley.”

              I was amused by his tone. “I thought you liked sports?”

“I do, but I hate the golf club. It’s just so--”

              “Stuffy?” I guessed.

“Exactly,” he said and we made our way to the tennis courts.

“So you do whatever Petra wants, even though you don’t like it?”

We walked through a door leading out to the other side of the building, revealing a driving range and a basketball court.             

“Pretty much. I mean, if I want to keep my cell phone and allowance. You should too.” He smiled at me.

              “Nah, I’m a rule breaker by nature.”

              “You get used to following the rules. It's not so bad”

              “Doubtful.”

              “Zach!” yelled someone from behind us and we turned to see a boy with dark brown hair running toward us.             

“Hey, Blake. What’s up?” Zach asked.

“Nothing much. My dad and I are looking for someone to join us for doubles. You guys game?” He sized me up, and wiggled his eyebrows.
Ewe
, I wanted to throw up. He couldn’t have been more than twelve.
Gross
.

              “I don’t know, Blake.” Zach peered at me, a questioning look on his face.

              I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t care.”
It couldn’t be that hard, right?

We followed Blake, and he introduced us to his dad. Then we broke off into pairs. I was stuck with Blake, who wouldn’t stop staring at me. I wanted to pop him upside the head.

              For the next hour we played, and my legs screamed in agony as I ran from side to side, trying to hit the yellow-green stupid ball. It turned out to be more challenging than I expected, but after losing twice, I got the hang of it.  We switched partners, Zach and I were unstoppable.

Blake’s father had to quit because of an emergency call from work, so the three of us headed back to the main building. Zach and Blake went to retrieve their stuff, while I stopped at a water fountain.

              “Fancy meeting you here,” a familiar voice said from behind me, causing, me to choke. I wiped off my mouth. Jackson smiled. He was dressed in a pair of white cargo shorts and a navy blue polo shirt with a small horse sewn on the chest. I rolled my eyes and walked away.
What was he doing here?

“Now, that’s no way to greet a friend,” he taunted.

              “We’re not friends,” I clarified as I joined Zach.

              “Just so you know. I’m not here for you. I’m here with my step-mother. We’re having lunch. Care to join us?” Jackson focused his attention on Zach, almost as if I wasn’t even there.

              “Sounds good to me,” Zach answered, dismissing my glare.

“Perfect. Follow me.” Jackson led us up a flight of stairs to a set of glass doors that were opened by a man in a black and red uniform. Another man met us just inside the restaurant with menus.

“The usual table, Mr. Van Buren?” the host asked.

“Yes,” Jackson replied, and we followed the man to a secluded room where an older man and his wife were dining.

These decorated tables made the one at home look amateurish. Each setting had three forks and two spoons and knives. I didn’t even know where to begin, so I made a mental note to follow Zach's lead.

An extravagant red and black flower arrangement adorned the white tablecloth- covered table, which was removed by a waiter.  It was replaced with a simple candle in a lantern. I selected a chair across from Jackson. I noticed the old man sitting right next to us stopped what he was doing and watched us. I felt like we were interrupting everything. Self- consciously, I fumed, wishing Zach hadn’t accepted Jackson’s offer. The old man smiled after his wife tapped him on the arm.

A waiter poured us water. “Order what you want. I’m pretty sure they have everything,” Jackson informed me, as a black leather menu was placed in front of me. I wasn’t hungry.

“You forget about our golf lesson? I waited for fifteen full minutes out back,” Mrs. Van Buren said as she joined the table. She was wearing a short dark blue skirt and tight top with a matching visor. She hesitated for a moment when she realized Jackson wasn’t alone.

“I’m sorry, it must have slipped my mind,” Jackson said nonchalantly, never looking up from the menu.

Mrs. Van Buren forced a tight smile. “Addison and Zach, how
nice
of you to join us.  Are your parents around?”

“Nope, just us,” Zach answered, keeping his head down as he played on his phone.

I didn’t know how to react. She’d been so friendly the day before. It was obvious she was not happy we were there.

“I invited them to lunch, Morgan, so I would appreciate if you did not make a scene,” Jackson said.

Mrs. Van Buren ordered a martini right away and didn’t speak until after it arrived. “You’re getting around, aren’t you, Addison?” Her cold eyes shot darts at me.

What did that mean?
  “I guess. I figured I might as well see what this town had to offer.”

“Addison, do you like eggplant parmesan?” Jackson asked.

“I’ve never had it before.”

“She probably wouldn’t know the difference between eggplant and zucchini. It’s Italian. It all tastes the same.” Morgan pulled out a cigarette but didn’t light it. The end of it glowed red-orange like a cherry and smoke came rolling out of her mouth.
Must be one of those e-cigarettes.

“Sounds great,” I replied, doing my best to avoid her snide remark.

“It’s electronic, steam for smoke. She gets the nicotine, with no harm to others,” Jackson said, as if reading my mind.

I shrugged, pretending not to care, acutely aware that Morgan was staring at me.

“Your pictures came back.” She thrust her phone under my nose.

I blinked, as I stared at a picture of me and Jackson next to his car. I didn’t recognize myself at all. My eyes were large and shadowy in the dim light.

“Have you ever thought about modeling?” she asked.

“You’re joking, right?” I passed the phone back to her. The picture made me uncomfortable.

“Not at all. You have a unique face.” She sipped her drink.

I leaned toward her and motioned for her to do the same. When she was close enough, I whispered, “If that’s your way of calling me ugly, you should really just stick to the basics.” I plucked the olive from her drink and ate it. She scowled.

“I don’t know why he would choose you. You’re so rude,” she said in a low voice, taking a drink.

“Morgan will you kindly shut up.” Jackson said eyes still on the menu.

“Choose me for what?” I asked.

“Nothing, dear.” She dismissed me and flashed a steely smile at Jackson. “I’ve rescheduled our appointment for tomorrow.” 

“Zach, are you looking forward to playing Briarwood this weekend?” Jackson asked, ignoring her.

They continued to talk sports until a plate of spaghetti with a fried piece of eggplant covered in cheese was set in front of me. Jackson watched me as I cut into the patty and took a small bite.

“Well?” he asked.

I chewed and blotted my mouth; I’d seen a few people doing that. “It’s delicious.” I dug in but was stopped short when Morgan starting complaining about how many calories were in spaghetti. "At the rate you eat, dear, you'll be a blimp in no time." She sucked on her fake cigarette, tilted her head back, and blew out a stream of smoke.

Instead of asking her what her problem was, I left the table and stormed to the restroom.
Who did she think she was?
I punched the wall and cursed at the pain that ricocheted up my arm.

Someone knocked once on the door and then pushed it open. “Are you okay?”  Jackson asked, joining me.

“No.” I bent over near the wall, holding my hand, hoping the stinging would stop.

“What’d you do?” He tried to take my hand. I dodged him.

“Something really stupid.”

“Yeah, I can tell that, but what?”

“Why don’t you just leave? Besides the door says women for a reason.” I swore as the pain shot up my arm. “Shit, man.”

He disappeared and returned. “It’s locked. Better?”

“No.” I turned away. My knuckles were bright red. At least there was no blood.

“Well, you need to calm down so I can look at your hand.” He leaned against the wall, studying me with a calculating look.

“What’s wrong with you? Why won’t you leave me alone?” Dreading to run cold water over it, I squinted, wincing in agony.

Instead of answering, he latched onto my forearm and tugged it away from my body. “Come on, let me see.” He coaxed and I tried to relax stretching my arm out, but pulled away from him when he tried to open my fist. “I can’t help if I can’t see the damage.”

“Fine,” I grumbled and let him take my hand which was already swollen. Gently, he touched the bruised knuckles.

“Can you wiggle your fingers?”

I could, but it hurt.

“Yeah, you’re going to be sore, but I don’t think it’s broken. We need to stop the swelling.” He maneuvered behind me and ran cold water over my throbbing fingers until they were numb. I rested against him and closed my eyes.
How could I have been so stupid?