Shade Page 2

  I nod, moaning softly.

  “Good. Now, turn your face to me.”

  I angle my head to the side, my eyes half-closed, my fingers clasped around his neck.

  “You’re really good, Tara. Don’t let some asshole waste your life. Okay? You promise me that?”

  “I do,” I murmur, lost in the vortex of pleasure scaling up inside my body.

  His heated breath fans over my face only for a second before his lips find mine, feeding me his scent of mint, smoke, and cologne.

  Our lips press together as our tongues roll hungrily as if we've waited for each other for ages.

  My heart spins in my chest, my fingers going numb on his neck.

  We break our kiss, his hands slipping to my hips.

  Hardening his muscles, he rams into me, picking up the pace quite fast, pounding me hard, swiftly tipping me over the edge, drowning me in an ocean of sinful pleasure.

  A shudder shakes his body, a muffled grunt exploding in his chest. Bent over the handrail, I can’t stop myself from shaking.

  Swiftly, his body leaves mine before I hear the soft rustling of his clothes and the whisper of his zipper sliding up.

  Still throbbing, I pull my panties up and button up my top, struggling to keep my body steady.

  A thought surfaces in my head.

  It must be late. Late enough, I can talk to my boss, excuse myself from the party and go home. I’m a mess right now.

  Running my hands over my clothes, I look for my ponytail clasp. I spot it on top of the handrail next to my phone. He must have slid them over there.

  A door opens at the upper level, a few female voices moving closer. Winding an arm around me, he pulls me into the darkest corner of the terrace, his forefinger pressed against my lips.

  Silently, we listen.

  The women stop near the balustrade.

  “Okay, then. Set it up sometime next month when everybody is in the office. I really appreciate all your hard work and effort, Claire,” a voice I don’t recognize says.

  “Sure, no problem. I’ll get it ready,” my boss replies in a humble voice.

  “Have you seen Shade, by any chance?” the other woman asks.

  Two female silhouettes lean forward, prompting the man behind my back to pull me into him even harder. Pressing me against his body, he’s hiding me inside the shadow.

  The women scan the terrace we are on for a moment before they spin around and walk into the event room.

  Their voices quickly fade away.

  “I have to go, Tara. It was nice meeting you,” he says, his lips brushing mine, planting a soft kiss.

  I try to grip his arm as he pulls away.

  My hand slides off him.

  “Hey… Who are you?” I hurl to him quietly, prompting him to turn to me.

  Stepping backward, he waves at me, not saying a word, and in a patch of light, I see his handsome face and charming smile.

  SHADE

  “You could’ve taken my car,” Elia says, drawing her knees together, her long fingers smoothing her skirt.

  Careful not to break a heel, she sinks into her seat and frowns at the vertical door.

  “Your fucking cars, Shade. Why can’t you drive a Bentley like everybody else?”

  I crack a smile. She doesn’t even know how ridiculous she sounds.

  “You could’ve left me home or drove your own damn car. I’m not your fucking driver,” I bark.

  She cuts her eyes at me, seething with anger.

  “Hey. Watch it, young man!”

  “Or what?”

  I slam the gas pedal, and the car propels onto the road, our backs becoming one with our seats.

  “Easy, Shade,” she says, panic threading through her voice. “I want to go home, not to the ER.”

  Without taking my foot off the gas, I peel my hands off the steering wheel and hold them up in the air.

  “Didn’t I just fucking say? You can drive your own car, get your driver, or hire a car service. Why do you insist on dragging me around?” I shout.

  “Put your hands on the fucking wheel, Shade,” she growls.

  She catches sight of my glare, and her expression promptly softens.

  “Please,” she begs.

  A few long seconds pass by before I grip the steering wheel and slow the car down.

  Breathing out a dramatic exhale, she runs her fingers over her clothing again and tucks an auburn lock behind her ear.

  “This is not going to work... You know that,” she says, her voice a tad calmer, but still very much irritated.

  “Of course, I know that. I was the one who told you, remember?” I toss at her, glancing at her, and sliding a cigarette between my lips.

  Unperturbed, I light it and take a long drag, my eyes flying to the rearview mirror.

  Tilting my head back, I run my fingers through my hair and check my face, a smile spilling in my eyes.

  She looks at me.

  “Where were you, anyway?” she asks suspiciously.

  I flick my head to the side, hiding my smirk.

  “Did you just fuck someone?” she hisses at me, her voice filled with revelation.

  Silently, I train my eyes back on the road and take another drag.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” she snaps, squeaking like a cheap toy.

  “Since when do you keep track of my dick?” I hurl back at her. “It’s not your fucking business if, and when I fuck. It was either that or gag myself with a spoon back in the conference room.”

  “Ugh! You’re just…”

  Her voice trails off, sizzling like a firecracker.

  “Take it easy... mom. You’re gonna get yourself a heart attack.”

  “Don’t you fucking ‘mom’ me. You know how much I hate that word,” she bursts out, filled with anger.

  Don’t I know?

  One of the first things I’ve learned from her as I was growing up, was that I should never address her by her... quality. Especially in front of other people.

  ‘They’ll think I’m old,’ she said.

  That’s how her head works.

  She’s not old. She’s had me when she was young, but, hey…

  To each his own.

  “Shade... Listen to me. You have to work with me on this. It’s our company. And like it or not, it will be yours one day. It’s either that or going back to school, and you’ve already said no to college,” she says, reminding me for the umpteenth time that I owe my fucking life to her, and I need to follow her script.

  We lock eyes briefly, and it’s like watching myself in a mirror. Her curly coppery hair is nothing like mine, blonde and straight, but her features and green eyes seem to have been cut and pasted onto my face.

  “I don’t need to run this fucking company. It’s not mine. I didn’t build it.”

  “One day, it’s going to be yours, Shade. That’s why Roger wants you to get involved early on, and he’s right. You need to learn the ropes, or people will crumble it from under you. If I’ve learned anything in this life, it’s that you can’t trust anyone. Especially when it comes to a big chunk of money. Right now, everything works fine. He has good people on board. Loyal people. But if anything happens to him, they’ll swoop to us like vultures. I don’t want to end up poor. I’ve been poor. It sucks. And I don’t want you to go through that shit either.”

  She looks at me with softer eyes, tugging at my heartstrings. And she makes sense. Of course, she does, but she’s also off a bit. It takes time to ‘crumble’ a billion-dollar corporation.

  Quietly, I steer the car to the right and slow down, waiting for the gates to slide open. Driving slowly, we follow the gravel road all the way to the estate.

  The place is royally lit as if waiting for guests.

  “You don’t have to do anything, Shade. Just don’t ruin my efforts. That’s all I’m asking. Can you please do that?” she asks as if I’m five.

  “I’ll think about it,” I say, stubbing out my cigarette while pulling to a smooth stop
.

  She slithers out of the car, tugs at her skirt, and waits for me.

  “Aren’t you coming?”

  “Later.”

  Before she says anything else, I spin the car around and drive away in a swirl of dust and the shrill of peeling tires.

  2

  TARA

  “Are you serious?” Maya asks, her eyes glinting with excitement.

  I haven’t seen her so happy since our freshman year of college.

  She sets a lit candle on the patio table, shifts one of the potted plants to the side, pulls her chair closer, and slides a glass of wine to me.

  The soft light tumbles over her blonde hair, making her locks shine and her green eyes sparkle.

  “Good for you,” she says before she takes a sip of wine. “I never thought that something like that could happen in real life,” she mutters.

  “I didn’t think so either. And it was a bit scary, I’ll admit. We could’ve gotten caught.”

  She flicks her eyes to me.

  “He’s got balls,” she says, smiling softly.

  “That he has,” I concur before we share a quiet peal of laughter. “On the other hand, it wasn’t his ass on the line. So, there wasn’t much for him to lose.”

  “Well at least you’ve got yourself a happy ending,” she says, grinning again.

  Deftly, she sneaks a cigarette out of her pocket.

  “It’s yours if Matt comes asking,” she says, slumping into her seat to avoid the cone of light streaming from inside the house.

  Nervously, she throws a glance to the living room.

  The doors leading to the terrace are wide open, the place brimming with light.

  “I’m glad you stopped by,” she says as she shifts her eyes back to me. “Parties are not the same without you,” she adds, her voice vibrating with sadness.

  Laughter wafts through the air, prompting us to swing our eyes back to the living room, where Matt, her husband of five years, entertains an older couple.

  The woman flashes a grin at the two men, her cheeks flushed from her cocktail. She sets her empty glass on a side table before she turns to them.

  Classically looking, the woman fashions a pair of slim fit pull on capris the color of the sky, and a colorful blouse with hues of beige and white and specks of red, a cream cardigan draped over her shoulders.

  In contrast to her sophisticated appearance, the men keeping her company look like older versions of six-year-olds, sporting beige slacks that crumple at their rears, and tucked in shirts that peek out from under their sweaters.

  They remind me of Josh.

  “Your patio looks nice,” I say, pushing the annoyance generated by his name to the side.

  “By all means, it should. I spent the entire afternoon working on it, hanging lights, cleaning and trimming the plants, taking out the garbage. Matt couldn't help me. He was busy compiling a report for his job. What can I say? Men and their work. Nothing comes first, other than porn, maybe. ”

  Turning her back to the house, she lights up a cigarette and takes a rushed drag, her smooth, clipped motions reminding me of our high school days.

  We stay silent for a few good moments, our eyes rooted to the people chattering inside the house.

  The stranger’s words come back to me in a flash.

  “What happened to us, Maya?” I say, bringing the glass of wine to my lips.

  An aroma of juicy, ripe black grapes coats my mouth.

  “What do you mean?” she asks, her fingers gliding on top of mine, her free hand palming her cigarette.

  “We’re barely twenty-five, and everything is already so damn predictable. I’ve started to feel old too. We live like older people as well.”

  “What are you saying? Everybody lives like that,” she mutters, her smile strained.

  “I don’t know... A few years back things were a little different. We had our lives ahead of us, everything waiting to happen. We had big dreams. We wanted to do stuff. We couldn’t wait to live on our own. Do you remember?”

  Her eyes soften.

  “Yeah. Of course, I do,” she says in a quiet voice.

  “We were looking forward to making our own decisions, anxious to learn and experience life. We thought that we were on the right path with school and everything else, and then it all took a nosedive. I don’t even know when it happened. All I know is that I didn't realize it happened until tonight. As I was scrambling to pull up my panties and straighten my skirt after that man did some community service on me, it finally hit me...”

  She starts to chuckle, and I do too. A few tears falling from my eyes, though, before I go quiet and wipe them away.

  “Okay, maybe not at that very moment, but in the aftermath, anyway, I had this big revelation. Here I was, calling Josh, who had the audacity to break up with me without giving me an explanation. And then this man shows up practically out of nowhere and starts telling me things about me and my life that no one else has told me before. Things I hadn’t even had the courage to admit to myself. And then he fucks me, sort of like a happy conclusion of the evening. That’s how it dawned on me that I no longer recognize my life. That I live a lie. That I’m no longer true to myself, if I’ve ever been. All I have right now is work, work, and more work, and the chores that never end. And don’t even get me started on the men I am surrounded with.”

  “I know,” she murmurs, her voice streaming sadness.

  “I always thought that I was going to start a business. And you always wanted to write a book. When was the last time you read a book, let alone wrote something? I kept telling myself that I needed to pay my student loan first and then start a business, and it all made sense. But then I realized that life’s opportunities don’t stick around until I’m ready. I thought I’d find the right man to start a family with. I didn’t want to fuck around. I wanted someone I could share my life with, and love with all my heart. Someone who could love me back too. That’s why I thought I did the right thing sticking with Josh. And people used to tell me that I had it all, but it never felt that way.”

  I pause, staring blankly at my glass.

  “And here I am. The ‘solid’ man was as hollow as any random guy. He said we were in a rut, and I believed him. I clobbered myself for not being what he wanted me to be. The thing is, I have no idea what he was looking for. He’s never told me. But if you ask me, the only reason we were in a rut, was because he never wanted to do anything with me except for the rut.”

  I draw in a long breath before I sigh.

  “We had dinner last Sunday, and spent the night together. He left on a business trip early Monday morning. I called him several times, yet he never returned my calls. A few days later, he sent me a text message. He said he needed time to figure things out. He wasn’t sure whether our relationship was still working for him or not. Crap like that. That’s how he broke up with me… I’m sure he’s back in town, but I can’t force myself to go to his apartment. There must be more to the story, and I’m just not in the mood to confront him or find someone else in his bed.”

  I take another sip of wine.

  “It wasn’t the best relationship we could’ve had, but even so I never thought that we would end up like this. Maybe there’s something wrong with me.”

  Maya snakes her arm around my shoulders.

  “There’s nothing wrong with you. How can you say that? You just got nailed by a stud, for fuck’s sake,” she says in a different, more cheerful voice, trying to lighten up the atmosphere. “I’d be happy to have that once in a while for a change.”

  I shoot her a puzzled look.

  “I thought you and Matt were good.”

  “Well, we were… But now? No, not really.”

  Tension sets in her jaw and her eyes begin to glisten while a rueful smile slides to her lips.

  “We’ve been drifting apart for some time,” she says in a quiet voice. “We used to do everything together. We used to travel and go out, and we had a lot of friends. They all bailed out o
n us as the time passed by. The sex used to be hot, and now it’s just blah, like the bowl of oatmeal that he forces me to eat, ‘for my own good’, every morning.”

  She pauses for a moment and takes a drag on her cigarette before she blows the smoke over her shoulder and disperses it in the air with her hand.

  “He’s getting lazier in bed too. Careless. And selfish. I still get off, but only when I pull my mind away from him and basically, ignore him. That’s the only way I can come, and that’s not good. I can do that with a vibrator, thank you very much, and I don’t need a high-maintenance man to stroke me. One I need to take care of afterward. The dildo? Off it goes in the box. Never asks for his socks, work clothes, or his aunt's anniversary. It never asks for sex when I mop the floors and I’m all sweaty from rubbing the tiles, either. Matt behaves more and more like a child and less and less like a man. And I’m thinking... Is this my fucking luck? But then I look around, and nobody seems to have it any better. He’s barely thirty-five, and he already has that middle-age air reeking all over him. I’m fucked. And not in the hot, good way.”

  I shift in my wicker chair and stretch my legs under the table.

  “Well, at least you get off. I haven’t... I mean not with Josh. And not in many years. He seems to care, but not for me,” I say.

  “Shh.”

  She stubs out the cigarette and pushes the ashtray to my side as Matt strides to us.

  “I have to drive them home. It’s not far from here,” he says, then looks in my direction. “Tara, you said you quit.”

  I gape at him as Maya elbows me discreetly.

  “Oh, yes I did. It’s been a long night, and I needed one. I borrowed it, though. It’s not like I bought a pack,” I say, making up excuses like a teenager.

  “All right. Stay away from them. They’re bad for you,” he says as if he talks to a child and strides away.

  We both roll our eyes in his wake. As soon as the guests clear the room, Maya pushes out of her chair.

  “I have to clean up,” she says, exhaustion setting on her face.

  “I’ll help you. Do you have something I can change into?”