Sweet Torture (2 page)

To my surprise, he let out a deep laugh. It didn’t sound like the kind of fake laugh my mom let when some socialite richer than her bought a new yacht or something. It was the kind of laugh that made the corner of Dante’s blue eyes crinkle. The kind that prompted him to place a hand over his perfectly toned stomach and grin stupidly without giving a crap about what the scowling, fat, bald guy next to us was thinking. “I could use you,” he said when he finally stopped.

“Use me?”

“I have an epic case of writers block, but man if I had one drop of your passion, the whole damn novel would be done by now.”

I smiled shyly. “So the rumors are true, you are some kind of weird prodigy.”

Dante shook his head, and for a moment, a flash of sadness overtook his eyes. “When your dad owns one of the largest publishing houses in New York, you’re pretty much expected to write a novel or two in the womb. I guess getting this novel published on my own is my way of proving myself in some weird, twisted way. Sometimes meeting everyone’s expectations is enough to drive you over the edge.”

“I know exactly what you mean, like, my mom expects me to be
 
some kind of weird upper East Side Barbie. All I want to do is open my own restaurant where every dish is made out of chocolate. Of course, when I tried to tell her, she kind of freaked.” I mindlessly twirled my hair while recalling how that conversation had ended.

“Every dish will be made out of chocolate?” Speculation made Dante’s perfectly chiseled features cute rather than god-like.

“Yes, do you doubt the power of chocolate?”

“No, I believe you.”

“No, you don’t. You obviously haven’t seen
Chocolat
.”

“I’m proud to say I haven’t,” Dante announced.

“I swear if you watch it, you’ll snap out of that writers block in like three seconds.”

“You’re on.”

Sweet Ecstasy

 
Since I had
Chocolat
on Blu-ray, we decided to go back to my place to watch it. Dante’s parents were spending Christmas in Spain, so he was pretty much on his own during the holidays, as well. He told me, he got out of the yearly trip by telling his dad he needed to focus on writing.

“Ah Miss. Claudia, you’re home,” Vlada greeted us at the front door. “Who is your friend?” Her blue eyes twinkled.

“This is Dante.” I nervously introduced them. “Vlada may I please see you in the kitchen? Dante, please make yourself at home, I’ll be just a minute.”

When we got to the kitchen, Vlada exploded. “You are right Miss. Claudia, he is so handsome!”

“Vlada please don’t embarrass me,” I pleaded. “We’re just gonna watch a movie, that’s it.”

“Sure,” Vlada’s voice had an ominous ring to it.

 
Watching Chocolat with Dante was like watching it for the first time. I laughed with him as Reynaud tried to resist the undeniable lure of chocolate and failed. I gasped with him when it was revealed Josephine was actually a victim of abuse rather than just plain creepy and turned beet red when Roux and Vianne had sex.

After it was all over, I held my breath and waited for his verdict. “You were right!” Dante’s eyes shone as he recalled various scenes from the movie. “I’m inspired. I’ll give credit where it’s due.”

“I told you!” I gently nudged his arm. “Chocolate is power!”

“We have to do this again,” he said.

“Umm, yeah, sure.” I tried to sound super casual, but all I could think of was when? When? When?

“Maybe tomorrow, if you’re free?”

“Yeah, great. You pick the movie? I’ll bring the chocolate?”

“We’re watching
Gladiator
.” Dante winked as I guided him to the front door.

“Are you serious?” I protested.

“Yes, come on, if I gave
Chocolat
a try, you can give Gladiator a try. I promise after you watch it, you’ll have the courage to tell your mom that you don’t want to be Upper East Side Barbie.”

“Fine.”

In bed that night, all I could think of was Dante, being with him was sweet ecstasy, even sweeter than the most luxurious chocolates. I just didn’t understand why he wanted to hang out with me. Everyone knew he was crazy about Beatrice. He probably was hoping I’d put in a good word for him. I figured even if that was the case, I didn’t care, being close to him was way better than being invisible.

The next week and a half went by in a blur consisting of movies, chocolates, arguments about books, trying out obscure restaurants and even a corny stroll through Central Park. Dante wasn’t only blessed with super hotness; he was also blessed with brains, wit and kindness. He told me his plans about wanting to start his own publishing house rather than taking over his father’s empire. He wanted to make a name for himself, travel the world and live a life that wasn’t confined by where he lived or how much money his family had.
 
I told him about my dream of having the world’s most famous chain of chocolate-only restaurants, wanting to lose a few pounds and how I felt like I could never live up to my parent’s standards.

 
The weird thing was, even though Dante was gorgeous, he didn’t make me feel like a hideous troll or anything. Even Vlada was falling for him, if she wasn’t almost fifty, I would have been jealous.

One evening, at my place over Indonesian Chocolate Fondue, something between Dante and I changed. I couldn’t explain what it was or how it happened, but our usual cheerful banter disappeared and there was an awkward pause.
 

“What’s up?” I asked.

“Nothing.” Dante’s voice was eerily soft. I felt my stomach flip as he leaned in towards me. “I was just thinking that I haven’t had this much fun in a long time.”

“Me too.” I whispered.

He leaned in even closer and tucked a lock of frizzy hair behind my ear. Before I knew it, his mouth crashed into mine. My body filled with waves of sweet ecstasy as his lips touched mine. The kiss started out slow and mellow, but eventually increased with a vicious passion that scared me senseless.
 
Eventually, we ended up in my bedroom where I hungrily ripped off Dante’s shirt. The sight of his perfectly toned stomach and muscular arms made me weak. Softly, he placed me on my bed where he covered me in delicious kisses. “I think I’m falling for you Claudia, my sweet, neurotic chocoholic,” he whispered.

Those words filled very inch of my body with chills. “The feeling is mutual,” I said as I gave him another hungry kiss.

Sweet Betrayal

 
The next night was New Year’s Eve, and I was in heaven. Dante and I had spent last night making out in my bedroom and he wanted to spend New Year’s Eve with me.
 
He wanted to take me to a party later that night. He was coming over in exactly one hour, and I was frantically running around trying to make myself look presentable. I actually had spent the afternoon getting my hair and nails done as well as shopping for a new dress. Yes, I know a cliché, but I couldn’t help it.

Dante was on time and brought me a box of Viennese Chocolates. “You look amazing.” His bright eyes filled with admiration as he glanced over my shiny hair and fancy new Prada dress.

“You don’t look so bad, yourself,” I said as I looked over his broad shoulders and new blazer.

“Crap,” said Dante after half an hour of a heavy make out session.

“What?”

“I forgot the champagne at my place,” he said.

“It’s okay, we don’t need it,” I said quickly. I really didn’t want him to leave.

“But I bought it especially for you; supposedly, it has a chocolate aftertaste.”

“But, it’s cold outside,” I moaned. “It’s so warm in here.”

“I’ll be back in a few minutes; I only live two blocks away.”

“Fine.” I gave him one last deep kiss before watching him disappear out the front door.

As soon as he left, I heard a phone buzz. Dante had forgotten his phone on the couch I picked it up and placed it on the coffee table. It buzzed again, then again, again, and once more. In the span of two minutes, it must have buzzed at least twenty times. Freaked out that maybe someone had died, I picked it up and took a look at the messages. What. Wait. No. They were from Beatrice.

1. Did you do it?

2. Did you make the fatty fall in love with you?

3. Well?

4. Did you?

5. Hello?

6. Did you make Claudia fall in love with you?

7. Where are you?

8. Your silence means you’re still working it?

9. If you want me, you have to prove it.

10. Prove how far you would go for a date with me.

11. So, I’m waiting, did you do it?

12. I’ll never be your date for the St. Valentine’s Day Dance if you fail.

13. Remember I need proof. I need pictures and a tape recording.

14. I’ve seen her naked. If you can do that, you definitely deserve me.

15. Trust me; I treat my dates very, very nicely.

16. Hello?

17. Geez, you haven’t texted me for two weeks.

18. You didn’t back out, did you?

19. Answer me.

20. Now.

My eyes filled with tears of humiliation, and my hands shook violently. The phone landed with a thump on the wooden floor. It had been nothing but a lie. I had been nothing more than a pawn in Dante and Beatrice’s weird game of foreplay. I knew Beatrice was a stuck up bitch, but I never thought she’d actually toss one of her minions into the ring.

“Hey, I’m back,” Dante announced. “What’s the matter?” His eyes filled with concern when he saw my face.

“Get out”! I screamed. I picked up his cell from the ground and threw it at him. “Get the hell out of my house!” I was hysterical.

“Hey Claudia, calm down, what’s the matter?”

“What’s the matter? What’s the matter? Look at your goddamn phone!”

As Dante read the messages, panic washed over his face. “No, let me explain, please Claudia.”

“Get the hell out before I call security!” I hollered.

“Please Claudia you don’t understand,” he pleaded.

“Get out!”

Defeated, Dante left, and I fell to the floor in feverish tears.

Sweet Revenge

For the next two days, I hibernated from the world. Vlada kept knocking on my bedroom door, but I refused to answer. Dante sent me a million texts begging that I hear him out, but I ignored every last one of them. Damn him and damn Beatrice, they had their fun. Dante had proven that he would do anything to get a date with queen bee bitch, and I was as disposable as a chocolate wrapper. The only thing that kept me company was my stash of ever reliable chocolate. Chocolate never failed me or made me feel worthless.

On the third day, despite my protests, Vlada had James pick my bedroom lock.

“Miss Claudia, you cannot stay locked in here forever,” she said.

“Yes I can,” I muttered from under my fluffy duvet.

“Do you want to talk about?” she asked.

“No, go away!”

“I brought you chocolate Belgian waffles.” She tempted me.

“Fine.” I came out from under the duvet.

Vlada gasped. “Miss Claudia, you look a mess. What will Mr. Dante think if he see you like this?”

“Screw Mr. Dante!” I screamed.

“Tell me what happen.” She sat down on the edge of my bed, and I told her the whole sordid tale through mouthfuls of waffles.

After I was done she said, “you must see Mamba Clara, she will help.”

“Help how?” I asked.

“She will help you heal.”

“Fine, gimme the address.” If some crazy voodoo lady could help me heal, why not? I just wanted the pain to go away.

After getting myself together, I went to Mamba Clara’s shop. Surprisingly, it was only a few blocks from where I lived and wasn’t at all what I expected. It was brightly lit and smelt like jasmine and sweet honey. All the shelves were tidy and filled with exotic stones, herbs and random potions.

“Claudia.” A pretty lady with large, brown eyes greeted me. Her dark skin was flawless, and she was elegantly dressed in a flowing, floral gown.

“Hi,” I said.

“I’m Mambo Clara; Vlada said you were coming over. She told me what happened. Have a seat.” She pointed to a leather couch that sat in the corner of the room.

“I don’t know what I’m doing here,” I admitted as I sank into the coach.

“Sure, you do,” she said. “You want vengeance, don’t you? You want vengeance on Beatrice; you want her to feel how you feel. You want her to feel ugly and unwanted.”

“Umm, I guess.” I shrugged not really clear on where this was all going.

“Here take this, she handed me a voodoo doll shaped in the form of a girl. You take this doll, take a piece of Beatrice’s hair and attach it to the doll. After that, you feed the doll chocolate every night. But you cannot have even the slightest taste of chocolate during this time. If you do, you will get back in double what you give to the doll.”