Better Off Dead (12 page)

He would use his lunch with his mother to tell her about his secret fiancée.  He would have to be careful, though.  He would have to be deliberately vague.  He would need to keep his mother in the dark until they’d had time to get their stories straight.

He sat in his office and stared out the window as the last hint of daylight receded from the sky.  There had been a moment, as brief as it was confusing, when Lucy had placed her hand on his chest.  It had been a simple gesture, used merely to get his attention and to halt his leaving, yet the feeling that had washed through him.  It was like he’d suddenly woke up, snapped too by some sort of pleasurable jolt.  It had ended the moment she’d removed her hand, but the feeling lingered—it still lingered.

He returned his attention back to his laptop and dismissed thoughts of Lucy Hart from his mind and started typing a reply to a distributer from Indiana.

He felt his
Blackberry vibrate in his pants pocket and retrieved it.  It was a text from Delia.  He smiled, welcoming his yearning for her, letting it push aside everything else he had been contemplating.  She wanted him to meet her.

“When and where?” He typed with his thumbs, a smile spreading across his lips.

“Funeral Peak.  I’ll be waiting.”

Gabriel knew where that was.  Again with the heights!  She never tired of making him face his greatest fear.  Funeral Peak was a mountain overlooking Death Valley National Park.  Delia would no doubt scale the sheer cliff on the southern side.  He would need to ascend the other side of the craggy mountain until he reached the highest mesa.  He’d been there once before.  It had been the first time they’d kissed.

~*~

The road leading to Death Valley National Park was nearly clear of traffic, and Gabriel made good time.  He refused to speed, though he came perilously close.  He left his car at the base of the mountain, and then jogged swiftly up the steep incline.  He side stepped boulders and then finally slowed when the ground pitched at too steep an angle to keep running.  Now he would have to climb, and this he hated more than anything.

But being with Delia was worth it.  He took off his tie and dress shirt, throwing them over a dead, spindly tree.  He scrambled easily up the first third of the climb, but then it began to rain.  Nothing heavy, and there was no wind, but it made the earth and rock he clung to slippery, and that made his fear of falling all the more potent.

By the time he made it to the topmost mesa he was soaked with rain and sweat, and his arms and legs were shaking from effort and fear.  Breathing heavily he strode toward the edge of the cliff, to where he knew Delia would be awaiting him.  A boulder shorn flat like a tablet sat mere feet from the edge of the cliff.  Gabriel gasped, his eyes widening with surprise and lust.  Delia lounged naked on the stone tablet, the rain pattering off her ivory white flesh, her eyes closed, expression at peace.

Gabriel approached, heat throbbing through his body, making his flesh burn.  Delia turned her head and opened her eyes.  A smile stole across her lips and her blue eyes sparkled mischievously.  “I thought you weren’t coming.”

He stopped, towering over her naked form, mesmerized.  He reached out a hand and stroked the cold flesh of her cheek, and then trailed his hand down her neck, over her supple breasts—she arched her back and moaned.  As his hand moved even lower, gliding over her ribcage, and then down her smooth belly, Delia leaned up and kissed him, drawing his lips to hers.

He gasped as she raked her nails over his shoulder, making him bleed.

~*~

The two lay naked under a now clear sky, the stars and a crescent moon made their skin glow in the dark.  Wrapped in each other’s arms, Delia rested her head against Gabriel’s chest and listened to the hypnotic beating of his heart.  She had never had a heartbeat.  Gabriel having one had always fascinated her.

“Tell me about this girl you’ve found…is she pretty?”

Gabriel chuckled, his chest expanding and jerking with the effort.  She loved the feel of his body, especially at times like this, when it moved unexpectedly. 
So alive.

“Jealous?”

Delia stabbed her finger into his stomach, making him groan.

“Okay, okay!  You’re above petty things like jealousy…and gratuitous violence.”

“You think that was violent?”  She looked up into his eyes and fought off the craving for him, and the yearning to just melt into those fathomlessly deep brown eyes of his.  “See what happens if you say she’s prettier than me.”

“Not even close.”  He leaned in and kissed her, tasting warm and alive. 

After Delia nestled back into the muscles of his chest, Gabriel continued.  “She seems to possess the attributes that will impress my family.  And she’s shallow, manipulative and a complete gold digger.”

“She will fit in well with your family.”

Gabriel sighed and pulled her tighter to him.  “I’m going to ignore that one.”

She smiled and inhaling the delicious aroma of his naked flesh.

“But she is goal oriented, and she has prowess when it comes to acting out a part and manipulation.  I truly believe she’ll be able to play her role more than well enough to fool my family.”

“Good,” Delia whispered, though the feeling the thought of someone else being at his side made her feel anything but. 

“And once she’s in place and my family is no longer so fixated on finding me a mate, we’ll be free to be together.” 

“Ironic how you need to get married to someone else so we can spend more time together.”  She could hear the bitterness in her own words.

Gabriel looped his forefinger under her chin and pulled her face up to his.  “This was your idea.”

She closed her eyes and pushed back the sudden wetness and burning.  “I know, I know.  It’s just…”  She pushed all the crazy thoughts out of her mind.  She would do anything to be with Gabriel.  Anything. 

She looked deep into his eyes again.  “It’s nothing.”  But there was something there.  Something new and uninvited.  It was a feeling.  That feeling that comes when you just know things are going all wrong.  She pulled herself up on top of Gabriel, their bare skins sliding with the remnants of the fallen rain.  She straddled him, pushing her hands hard into the muscles of his smooth chest, making him groan.

She stared into his eyes.  If there was something wrong, wouldn’t she be able to see it in his eyes?  But his eyes were filled with his usual longing for her.  But was it love?  She needed more than anything to believe that indeed it was.  For if she didn’t have his love, then what did she have? 

~*~

Lucy slept deep and hard that night.  Her dreams were of shopping in boutiques and huge high-class shopping Mecca’s, of driving something sleek, expensive and midnight blue (a new color for a new life) and receiving acceptance letters from every university she’d applied to.  Even Stanford—that one had come in a golden envelope and the words glittered magically as she read them. 

She woke the next morning still sore but filled with purpose.  Luvici was to pick her up shortly after she left for school.  He was to park three blocks away so that her grandmother and mother wouldn’t suspect. 

Her mother was still asleep—the late shift always took it out of her.  Lucy’s grandmother made her breakfast, and Lucy picked at it, only taking a bite or two when her grandmother was looking.  She poured herself a cup of coffee after discarding the rest of her food in the trash.  If she didn’t eat it, she wouldn’t have to work it off later.  She would put off starting her work out regime until her shoulder had healed, but she would start dieting in earnest now.

She would miss her grandmother’s cooking.   Her own mother had only been a microwave kind of cook.  If it wasn’t for the full time cook her father had employed year round Lucy would have never known there was such a thing as place settings and silverware.  Also, having a cook meant that when Lucy had started eating low-fat, low-carb, the cook simply cooked something different for her.

But her Gram’s cooking was special.  Though full of fat and sugar and salt, it was also filled with love.

Lucy grabbed her book bag and gave her grandmother a kiss as she made to leave. 

“Do you work tonight?”  Her grandmother asked, catching her at the door.

“Oh, ummm…yes.  So don’t wait up for me.”  Lucy kissed her grandmother again.  She didn’t like lying to her, yet since she would be doing things in preparation for her new job, then she truthfully wasn’t lying. 

Sure you’re not, Princess.        

Five minutes later Lucy found Luvici parked in a sweet, shiny red convertible.  He had on a pair of shades and was leaning back in the driver’s seat soaking up some rays.  He looked happy
...too damn happy
.  Lucy stood there just staring at him. 
Sure,
he’s really feeling that financial crunch.

Finally she got into the passenger’s side seat, wanting nothing more than to slap him good.  All that feeling sorry for him—finding he had layers, like some rumpled puppy/onion cross breed—was gone.  She was going to hold her tongue, at least until Luvici drove her into San Bernardino, so she could pick up the car Dante Enoch had waiting for her, and of course the credit card.  She would try not to be too late to school.  But she absolutely wanted to break the card in. 

She was wondering what kind of car Dante would pick out for her.  Probably something practical; he seemed a very practical man.  But he was elegant too.  Whatever it was, it would be elegant.  That, at least, was a comfort.

Luvici hadn’t moved a muscle.  Was he asleep?  Lucy finally took a breath to tell him to wake up, but ended up saying what was really going through her head.  “I thought you said you were broke?”  She looked to him and saw a smile slide across his face. 
Jerk… 
“I don’t call having this as a second car being financially strapped.”

“What would you call it, then?”  Luvici was looking downright smug behind his sunglasses. 

“I’d call it a mid-life crisis.  Darla, Kenny…this shiny new penis shaped car.  Looks like someone’s feeling over the hill, trying to regain some of his lost youth.”  Luvici still had that irritating smile on his face.  “What would you call it?”

Luvici held out a set of keys in Lucy’s direction without actually looking at her.  “I’d call this penis shaped midlife crisis yours.”  He gave them a shake and the keys jingled merrily, sparkling new in the sunlight.

“Mine?”  Lucy felt tingly all over.  Suddenly she started looking around her at the sleek lines of the car, how the red paint blazed in the sun, at the soft as butter tan leather seats.

“All you have to do is drive me back to my office and you’re free to rack up all the speeding tickets you want.”

Lucy smiled.  “What makes you so sure I won’t just take off and leave you in the dust?”

“My unwavering belief in human decency.” Luvici said. 

Lucy snorted. 

“And I have your credit card in my wallet.  And you don’t get that until I’m safely deposited at my office.”

Lucy reached out and took the keys form Luvici.  “I was just kidding.  I’d never just ditch you.”

“Sure you wouldn’t.”  He didn’t sound as if he believed her.

Lucy got out of the car and headed over to the driver’s side.  Luvici awkwardly crab walked over the gear shift and plopped into the passenger seat.  Lucy was surprised the man could move like that.  She was sure from his belly that he hadn’t done exercise of any kind for over a decade.  Unless you counted boffing Darla and Kenny as exercise, then maybe he was fitter than he looked.

“Where’s the trust?”  Lucy slid in behind the wheel and turned the engine over with a wicked roar. 

“Just don’t kill us, okay Hart?”

Lucy smiled at him calling her “Hart.”  It was funny and made her almost like him. 
Almost.

~*~

A credit card through Enoch Industries, in her name, and a spanking new iphone came with the car.  And after Lucy left Luvici in a cloud of dust at the curb of his office building, she decided an impromptu ditch day to break in the credit card was in order.  Every boutique on the main drag of San Bernardino was calling her name.  She chose a store that was new—since she wasn’t really in the mood to run into one of her former girlfriends—and the shop really did look promising.  Gucci and Prada adorned the front windows.

Lucy parked the shiny new convertible, closing the top and locking the doors…something she’d never done with her own car.  She just thought that if anyone actually did anything to it, Daddy would buy her a new one.  Now she knew Daddy wasn’t buying her anything, anytime soon.  And though the car wasn’t technically hers, it felt like it was.  She felt a little swoon of happiness as she hit the car alarm, admiring her own reflection coming from the polished-to-perfection paint-job.

Like it was a movie, Lucy turned dramatically to face the front of the boutique. 
Get ready salespeople, I come bearing platinum!

And as soon as she flashed the platinum credit card she was suddenly barraged by three pathologically cheerful salesladies.  In no time at all they brought her a plethora of dresses, shoes, lingerie, silk tops and designer jeans.  She’d stacked up some promising pieces for reconsideration…and the sales staff was bringing her more with blurry speed.  They had even offered her champagne—a platinum card must make everyone look older than they are.