Pandora's Box (25 page)

He had the grace to look sheepish. “What if—”

She didn’t let him finish as she covered his mouth with a loving kiss.

He closed his eyes letting her love wash over him and his arms wound tightly around her as if he wanted to pull her light into him.

She broke the kiss and whispered on his lips, “On minor things, consider pros and cons. On vital matters, follow your intuition. In the important decisions of personal life, one should be governed by deeper needs. Love has no reason, no time. It’s instinctual.”

“Freud.” He knew the saying she partially quoted. “So, you just followed your infamous instinct?”

She shook her head at him with a sweet smile on her lips. “I just felt. I love you. What else did I need?”

The Harlequin Suite.

Thursday, November 11
^th
, 2010.

3.21 a.m.

Concentrate on the problem at hand, Ethan: Eve.
He sighed and rubbed his tired eyes. Sleep had been escaping him since he had seen the photos and the birth certificate confirming that the man was his son.
What am I going to do with a son and an ex-lover?

From what he recalled, the man resembled him very much, except for the azure eyes. His were a chocolate-brown, like his mother’s.

There was no possibility of denying, from the date of birth, that the son was his. Unless the birth certificate was false.

Ethan was completely unbalanced, his emotions changed throughout the day as the waves on a stormy ocean; lust and sexual frustration, love and wrath, depression and exhilaration coursed through his blood, leaving him feeling like he was living in a perpetual state of chaos.

And all because of the women in his life. He had loved them all. And he hated them for it. Eventually, he hated himself too.

Sophia was the only one no money or lust could buy, who has treated me with love and compassion, who has understood. She was the only one I should have put on a pedestal and learned to give instead of only take. I behaved toward her as the others did toward me.

Ethan sighed, again. He avoided confrontation whenever he could. He had to be smarter than his parents. Taking the bottle with him, he crossed the suite to the small office. He messaged Scott.

Ashford. 3.49 a.m. - Call me 1st thing before you leave home. Urgently.

Walking back into the living room, he saw Barbara leaving the bedroom clad only in an elegant ivory silk wrap.

She looked young and sleepy, with rosy cheeks and still reddened lips from their night of sex.

Ethan couldn’t help comparing her with his mother. Barbara was all kindness toward him; Calista was all greed and hatred.

But he couldn’t help comparing her to Sophia as well.
Sophia has never sold herself. Barbara is being paid; as Eve was.

“I missed you in bed,” she said softly, in a sexy voice.

But I did not. Sentiment is witty. If it feels like it’s being manipulated, it hides and protects itself.
“I was thirsty.” He raised the bottle and kissed her forehead, pulling her to sit with him on the sofa.

He didn’t speak, neither did she. She snuggled closer to him, and he put an arm around her shoulders.

Why couldn’t I have found her as I did Sophia? Why can’t I love her?
In his heart, he knew the answer; he just couldn’t get in touch with it.

Most times, Ethan was shy and even awkward with women of his own circle, unless he was doing business with them or thought they were less than him, that he would make an impression.

Maybe if he had been a teacher, he could have found a woman with whom he could be happy, but no. He had been forcibly turned into a powerful businessman and he had to live accordingly. He could never show his insecurities or fears, he could never show the damage that ran deep in his soul. He was condemned to suffer them alone.

After his failure with his first girlfriend on the night of his grand dinner at
Les Quat’-Manoirs
, he decided that his grandfather was right. He had let Niarchos guide him through paid sexual encounters and to be taught to pleasure and find pleasure in the arms of a woman.

He learned about some very exclusive clubs and
Madames
in London. With his money and position, at his young age, it was not difficult to be a member of one of these very exclusive clubs.

Although he never went to one, he chose the women from a catalogue, with all the preferences listed, and paid for a meeting where they would parade for him, first dressed, then nude.

The women knew the procedures. All of them accepted his money and gifts as a substitute for his love. It was impersonal, no strings attached.

When Ethan decided he’d had enough, they left without complaining, well rewarded. He moved to another, to learn more, to be taught differently.

After the initial years of impotency and premature ejaculation, Ethan mastered sex.

But not love.

No one had taken care of that part of his anatomy, and his heart wasted away.

After so many experiences, Ethan was almost certain he was Barbara’s first client. “Why me?”

She raised her head to look at his face. “Why you what?”

“You’re so beautiful and kind. Couldn’t you find another job instead of whoring?”

Barbara shot him an appalled look and no words came out of her mouth. He had a lot of nerve to ask such a question.

“I’m sorry, that was out of line. Don’t answer the stupid question,” he blurted out, before she had the chance to say anything.

A light extinguished itself inside Barbara’s eyes. “Do I displease you that much?”

“No. Not at all.”
There, Ashford. You hurt the woman.
He drained the rest of the water. “You know, Barbara, I’m not very good at intimate conversations concerning myself. I can coach people to tell me their whole lives; I can talk about books, numbers, and intelligent things, but when the topic involves my feelings or relationships, I put both of my feet in my big mouth. It must be hard to keep up with my moods. And surely, Barbara, when you applied for the... job, you knew what you were supposed to do.”

For a moment Barbara seemed lost in thought. Then she faced him and said, “Yes, I knew. When I first met you, and you treated me like a piece of meat, I was scared. Really scared. I had never had paid sex before, but it wasn’t so difficult. You’re a handsome, intelligent, wealthy man. Besides, I needed the money. Desperately. I had no other choice.”

We always have choices.
“Surely, you could apply for a secretarial job or— or anything else. But an escort?”
A whore?

She gave a bitter laugh. “Ethan, have you ever seen the lives of the ones you loved threatened?”

No. But then, I have never really loved.
He shook his head.
Although Grandpa really tried, he was too involved in his own schemes.

“I did it to save my mother’s life. My father was a gambler. In time, he became an alcoholic and an abuser. When he had money, he treated us very well. He would buy food and even take us out to dinner. When he was in one of his fouls moods, or losing money, it was difficult. There was no food, no clothes, nothing. As years passed by, things got worse. He began to steal my mother’s meager salary to keep his vices. Afterwards, mine too. He sold things from our home until there was only the bare minimum: a mattress, some plates and an old stove and an even older refrigerator. In the end, he drowned in the Thames. We don’t know if he drowned because he was drunk or if he was killed. But the bastard didn’t settle his debts before going to hell. They came to us and gave us a month. I applied for many jobs. It was then that Scott miraculously found me and I became Sophia.” Her voice turned to a whisper, “They returned and I gave them all the money we had. They laughed in my face, took the money and broke my mother’s arm. A reminder for us to be more diligent the next month. It worked. I asked you for the loan and paid them off. Then I stayed to pay you. After you handed me back the promissory, I stayed because I like you. Very much.”

Jesus.
Ethan didn’t blink or say a word. He was profoundly shocked by the story and how he had never deepened his interest. He knew she had to settle a debt and about her sick mother. But he never knew the hurt and pain that accompanied the woman who shared his bed.

“My mother is fragile. She has been beaten all her life, but she never let my father touch me. Many times she took the punishment he thought I deserved. She never complained. I had no choice but to sell my soul to the devil.”

She sold, I bought. Money. That’s what makes the world go round.
Not really taking offense by her last sentence, Ethan threaded his fingers through her hair in silence, mulling over what he had been told. Then ever so gently, he breathed, “You’re a good daughter.”

Her lips curled up. “She has always been the best mother.”

How I envy you.
“I’m glad you have such a good mother.”

“Without your help—”

No strings, Barbara.
He stopped her with a raised palm. “No need to thank me again. You deserved every pound, every jewel, everything.
I want you to answer one question with your utmost honesty.” He waited for her nod. “Am I a good lover? Do I treat you well?”
Stupid, Ashford. What do you think she will answer?

She smiled wanly. “You asked two questions.”

I pay you very well; you can answer two questions.
“Choose whichever you want.”

“Well, Ethan,” her voice was sad and wistful, “you
fuck
very well. I’ve never had to fake an orgasm because you pleasure me, but you have never made love to me, not even when you started calling me by my name. The dresses, jewels, and money you give me are wonderful, but they don’t substitute love. So, yes, you’re a good lover and yes, you treat me well. Did I answer your questions?”

He looked at her for a long time wondering why he was so flawed that a simple statement as the one she had just said couldn’t move him.
I don’t know how to do any more than that. I was never taught how.

She entwined their fingers and rose from the sofa. “Come back to bed. You have to wake up very early. A few more hours’ sleep will do you good.”

I don’t want to sleep. I don’t want to dream. I don’t want any woman in my mind.

In those few seconds, the thoughts crossed Ethan’s face, Barbara saw in him the same fragility and despair that she sometimes saw in her mother. “Come on, Ethan. I will be with you.”

A little kid’s voice asked inside Ethan’s head, ‘
Will you hold me in your arms?’

He shook his head hard, not wanting any woman to hold him in her arms and yet yearning so much for it that it angered him.

When they lay in bed, she covered them with the sheets and duvet, tenderly pulled him to her breast and wound her arms around him, her hands wandering softly over his broad back. “Sweet dreams, Ethan.”

After Ethan slept, Barbara lay awake for a long time, wondering if she should ask him if they could start a whole new relationship; if there was any possibility that he could forget Sophia.

She decided that it wasn’t worth it. She was aware he was incapable of real, normal love. She had understood that the love he felt for Sophia was different. It was a kind of worship.

The kind of love that could only be ended with death. Or so she thought.

Chapter 14

Ashford Steel Industries.

10 a.m.

Scott tried to stop Ethan when he arrived a few minutes before seven o’clock, but he was so engrossed in a talk with the Indian directors who had come to discuss a few implements to the branch of Ashford Steel Industries that he headed directly to the Greek Meeting Room without noticing his assistant.

The meeting extended for hours and Scott was nervously mopping his head when Ethan came back from the meeting when Ashford’s CEO had taken charge of it.

“Sir,” Scott called. “I need a minute of your attention.”

Ethan looked at him with a pleased smile. “Of course, Scott. Come on in.”

“I received a letter this morning. From we-know-who,” he whispered as he closed the door.

It was then that Ethan saw the envelope in the middle of his desk with
confidential
written in red. Ethan took a deep breath before opening the envelope carefully. Inside there was a copy of the birth certificate of Demetrius Oedipus Argeous. Under the mother’s name, Eva Argeous. Under the father’s name was written, unknown. Demetrius was born on March ninth, 1990, in Paris.

Demetrius Oedipus Argeous. My son.

There were many photos of various stages in the life of the now grown man. He had been a thin, shockingly small baby, a grinning and cute toddler, a rebellious teenager and a serious man.

Also, there were photos of his mother. So many photos that Ethan could almost feel the years sliding through his hands as he watched the changes of the first woman he had loved.

Eve. Almost as beautiful as twenty years ago.

She had married an older man a year after Demetrius was born. There was another birth certificate, where the father’s name was Louis Maurois, showing the old man had adopted Demetrius.

Almost fifteen years later, she had become a rich widow and had continued to live comfortably in a chic Parisian suburb. No more work for rich Eva Argeous Maurois.

 The last photo showed a more mature woman. Although her skin was not so smooth, her soft chocolate- brown eyes were even bigger on her thin face, with the same innocence that had enchanted and hypnotized Ethan, but dulled as if saddened by the life she had chosen.

Can my life get any weirder?
A shudder went through his spine when he looked at Eve’s birth certificate and realized that she was really sixteen when she had been with him.

He felt again like the shy, serious and awkward teenager; the nerd who was ridiculed by the few friends that wanted to take advantage of his grandfather’s house and money; the ashamed and scared boy, who hid in his room with closed curtains, to forget that his parents didn’t love him. Again, it weighed on him that his first love was an underage whore; that his parents were abusing him again and he still wanted the love of a woman who loved another.