The Beautiful People (2 page)

Allegra lit another
joint and passed it around, but the atmosphere had become subdued. Dominic,
sensing my distance, backed off. The gunshots seemed to have sobered everybody
up.

I’d just inhaled when my
door was yanked open. I screamed and began to choke on the smoke, dropping the
joint on the floor mat when Grant popped his head in.

“Why
are you out here? I told you to wait for me.”

“I
wasn’t going anywhere. What took you so long anyway?”

“Last
minute work stuff…come on, I’ll take you home,” he said, moving aside so I
could step out.

Dominic decided to
leave too and started walking to his car, a black classic Mustang, and turned
back to me. “See you tomorrow night?”

“Err,
uh, yes,” I answered, internally cursing the return of my awkwardness.

“Good.”

  My mouth, already dry
from the weed, dried up completely and I smiled.

            “Let’s go,
Natalie,” Grant said, while glaring at Dominic.

Grant drove me back to
my apartment and I wanted to talk to him about what I had witnessed, but he was
absorbed in his own thoughts. He would glance at me every few minutes until I
had to break the silence.

“What?”
I snapped.

“Nothing.”

“Why
the hell do you keep looking at me like that?”

“Like
what?”

I huffed and crossed my
arms over my chest. My typical reaction when he was being annoying.

“I’m
thinking I shouldn’t have gotten you a job at Crimson.”

            “Are you
firing me?” I paused. “Do you have the authority to fire me?” I asked in a
quieter tone.

Grant didn’t answer right
away which did nothing to encourage me. He still had a nervous, far-away
expression; his eyebrows furrowed together in concentration.

            “What
happened tonight – well, it happens a lot. Crimson may seem all shiny and
exciting, but there is a dark side too.”

            “What are
you talking about?”

            “The
gunshots, the cop –“

            “Oh, you
saw that too!” I didn’t recall seeing Grant anywhere, but I felt relieved that
he knew.

            “Yeah and I
wish you hadn’t.”

            “Dominic
said that Blue has a gun check and sometimes there’s an accidental discharge.
It’s no big deal.”

“He
did?” Grant seemed surprised, but his brow soon creased together again. He
stopped talking as he pulled his Lexus up in front of my apartment building. I
didn’t get out of the car.

            “Will you
stop being so overprotective? I’m a big girl and can handle myself. Besides if
you’re the ‘Head of Security’,” I emphasized this by making quotation marks
with my fingers, “how much trouble can I get into?”

Grant sighed, rubbing
his hands over his face before looking at me. His face was a male version of mine
with the same wide set hazel eyes, sharp cheekbones and full lips. We even had
the same dark chestnut brown hair. He wore his short and slicked back, which
emphasized his square jaw. Mine fell past my shoulders in thick waves.

“I
can’t fire you Nat and I am overprotective for a reason.” He raised an eyebrow
when he said this.  

I knew Grant was
referring to an episode that happened during my senior year of high school.
Someone slipped rufies in my drink at the local dive bar in our hometown of
York. I remembered taking a few sips and seconds later my body began to freak
out. The room started spinning and I lost control of my limbs. I barely made it
to the bathroom, where I collapsed in one of the stalls. I didn’t care about
the dirty floor or the mystery puddle my knee was submerged in. Who worries
about something like that when you think you’re dying? Somehow I managed to
call Grant on my cell.

 I screamed something
unintelligible into the phone, but he must have been able to understand. His prior
experience with “Natalie in crisis” helped. I managed to tell him where I was
and minutes later, he came barging into the ladies room. Thank God he was home
on holiday break. Philly was a good three hours away from York and I don’t know
what I would have done.

He scooped me up off the
floor and rushed me to the Emergency Room where they pumped my stomach, hooked
me up to an IV and lectured me about my choices.

Grant stayed by my side
at the hospital and he insisted on paying right away. He gave the stunned
receptionist $1,500 in cash and asked for the bill for any balance to be sent
directly to him. I didn’t ask where he got the wad of bills he had in his
pocket and he never said a word to our mom. This is when I began to learn we
both had secrets to keep.

Grant didn’t go back to
Drexel after that winter break and began working full time at Crimson. He
quickly moved up to Head of Security. When the time came for me to pick a
college, I chose the closest art school to Grant. Even though I cleaned myself
up after the rufies incident, he was handy to have around whenever I decided to
have a damsel in distress moment.

If our mom knew about
half of the shit I had gotten into, shit Grant had bailed me out of, I would be
in a convent. We sat in silence and he tapped his finger against the steering
wheel – an indication he was thinking.

Finally he said, “Alright,
you’re only working there through graduation, the summer at the latest. Just
keep a low profile, okay?”           

            “I already
agreed to that,” I reminded him before climbing out of the car.  

Just before I could shut
the door Grant threw out another caveat. “Keep some distance between you and Dominic.
He isn’t a good guy to get involved with.”

“Grant,
you said yourself that there isn’t a company policy in place about dating
co-workers and I’m twenty-two years old. I’ll date who I want,” I said and slammed
the door. He was not going to tell me who I could or couldn’t see. Typical
Grant, he was always trying to act like my father.

I marched up the stairs
to the second floor, calming down after reaching the landing. By the time I stood
in front of my apartment, I was laughing at myself about how I got all worked
up over a guy. I was truly acting irrational over a drunk and brief encounter. Taking
a deep breath and swallowing the laughter, so as not to disturb my roommate, I
turned the key in the deadbolt and quietly pushed open the door. To my surprise
the light in the living room was on, my roommate practically pounced on me.

            “Oh my God,
how was your first night? Was it awesome? Did you see anyone famous?” I took a
step back and laughed. Chelsea had taken her contacts out and wore her broken
glasses, the same pair she’d had since eighth grade and which hung crookedly
across her face; magnifying an already manic expression.

Any remainders of the
bad mood Grant had put me in quickly vaporized as I had a captive audience. I couldn’t
wait to tell Chelsea about the club, leaving the part out about the gunshots though,
having already had enough lectures for the night.

            “I am so
jealous! What a freakin’ cool job. You are so lucky!” Chelsea declared. I sat
back on the futon and agreed with her. “So, you didn’t see anyone famous?”
Chelsea asked again.

            “No, but there’s
some sort of NBA charity event next weekend.”

Chelsea’s glasses
almost fell off her face when her blue eyes bugged out, “No freakin’ way! Can I
come?”

            I laughed
again and yawned, “Maybe.”

            “Cool.”
Chelsea smiled at me like I was a celebrity. Yeah, there was no way Grant could
convince me to not work at Crimson.

Crimson proved to be
busier the next night and the guys grabby, again. At the end of my shift I made
my way over to Dominic’s bar.

            “Hi
Natalie,” he said as I approached. 

            “Hi back.”
Out of the corner of my eye I spotted Grant observing our exchange. Dominic
seemed really uncomfortable which made me self-conscious and this bothered me.
Why was I all of sudden concerned about how a guy felt? Sure I was physically
attracted to Dominic, but there was something else lurking there under the
surface I couldn’t place.

            “Did you
want a drink?” he asked as he wiped the counter in front of me with a white
towel that reeked of bleach, making my eyes burn. The wet surface reflected the
blue and red lights that hung over the bar.

            “Sure, I’ll
have a vodka tonic.” I enjoyed the view as he walked to the other end of the
bar. Before he could catch me obviously checking him out, I turned my head.
Grant stood off to the side frowning at me, most likely none too pleased I had
ordered a drink.

            “So, do you
think we’ll hang out in Britney’s car again tonight?” I asked after the alcohol
instilled some courage.

            “I don’t
know,” he answered and turned away. His distance bothered me again and I
thought about it as I took another sip. I adhered to one self-imposed rule: don’t
get attached. This was established six years ago, during my junior year of high
school, after my last experience with a relationship. Toby Donovan was captain
of the soccer team and also a gifted artist. We were in the same AP art class
the first semester and he sat across from me. We spent hours using each other
as models for sculpture, painting, you name it. He was different from the other
guys I knew and we hung out on weekends. After soccer season, we started
getting together during the week, despite harassment from his friends because I
wasn’t in the right “circle”. One thing led to the other and we became an
official couple. I felt so comfortable with him that when he asked me to pose
nude for him, I did. No question.

 My mom raised me to
not trust men. My father left us and she became a bitter, abandoned ex-wife.
She had the tendency to be a cruel mother too. I spent my childhood trying to
live up to her high expectations and failing miserably. Where Grant could do no
wrong, I couldn’t do anything right. Toby helped me think about myself
differently. When we made love for the first time, my first time, I never felt
more wanted, appreciated and beautiful. With him, my insecurities disappeared.

How quickly they
returned though, when two months after I lost my virginity, I caught Toby
hooking up with Marlene Perkins, co-captain of the cheerleading squad, at a
party. The pain and humiliation manifested in my chest, making it hard to
breathe. I couldn’t even say anything to him and just ran away from the house
party. That following Monday a drawing of me, where I had posed nude, was taped
to the front of my locker. I wanted to crawl inside my locker and hide from the
world. My mom had been right, men can’t be trusted. If she was right about
that, maybe she was right about everything else; like I wasn’t smart or pretty.
Toby’s betrayal sent me into a downward spiral. During the day I remained
super-disciplined at school. I didn’t need my mother to approve of my art work.
My instructors’ praise and awards from competitions told me I was a promising
artist. My personal life derailed. I started sneaking out to get drunk and hooking
up with random men. Since Toby, I hadn’t had a relationship last longer than 24
hours (if that even qualifies as a relationship).

Since I started college
I’d been on a few dates, stopped sleeping around and avoided getting involved
with anyone. All of my focus went towards my course work. Dominic, however,
made me feel unfocused and disoriented. I didn’t know how to handle the
physical reaction he triggered in me. An attraction was there and it was
difficult to suppress.

As I zoned out at the
bar, it dawned on me; I was beginning to like Dominic in more ways than lust.
Or maybe it was just lust and he was right in distancing himself. I chugged my
drink and stood up.

            “Well, good
night,” I said, hoping he couldn’t hear the panic in my voice. I walked up to
the employee lounge to get my things. Brittany was getting ready to leave too.

            “Hey! A
bunch of us are going over to Blue, want to come?”

            “Yes!” I
jumped at the opportunity, grateful for the distraction.

We passed Grant on the
way out. “Be careful. Remember what I said about drama?” He tilted his head
toward Brittany. “Call me if you need anything.” I rolled my eyes, but knew he
would be the first I’d call if things got out of hand.

A huge line of people
stood outside Blue. Many swayed in place and probably should have been home
sleeping the booze off and not waiting to get into another club. I recognized
several customers from Crimson as we walked past. I followed Brittany’s lead
and we were ushered inside by a bouncer at the door.

Blue was packed and steaming
hot; the air heavy with perspiration and the stench of stale beer. We left our
coats at the coat check and filtered through the crowd to the bar. Once I had
my drink, I spun around to people-watch and instead came face to chest with
Dominic. Vodka and tonic splashed all over my shirt.

            “Shit!” I
gasped as an ice cube fell down the front and became lodged in my bra,
instantly beginning to melt against my hot skin. I reached in and fished it
out.

            “I would
have gotten that for you,” he teased.

            “So you’re
talking to me now?” The smile vanished from his face.

            “Yeah, sorry
about earlier, your bro didn’t like us getting so friendly in the back of Brittany’s
car last night.”

            “That’s
Grant for you. It’s really none of his business.”

“I
can’t say I blame him. I’d probably do the same if my little sister started to
get involved with someone like me.”

            “What’s
that supposed to mean?”

            “Nothing,
he’s being a big brother. I get it.” He leaned over to order a drink, sandwiching
me between his body and the bar. His closeness made my stomach flip. I shook my
head slightly in an attempt to focus
.
Don’t do it, Nat. don’t start
liking this guy, I warned myself. The counter dug into the small of my back so
I shifted, resulting in me being pressed closer to Dominic. He smiled down at
me. “I owe you a drink, don’t I?” His voice was soft and husky.

Minutes passed while we
waited for the bartender to return with our drinks. Dominic kept me pinned, but
I wasn’t complaining. “So what’s your story, Natalie?”

            “I don’t
have a story, well, not an interesting one anyway. I go to the University of
the Arts and will be graduating in May.”

            “What are
you studying?”

            “My major
is sculpture and my minor is art history. Do you go to college?”

            “I took a
couple semesters, but school didn’t appeal to me. Besides, I’m going into the
family business anyway.”

            “Which is?”

The bartender arrived
and I never got an answer to the question.

Dominic kept me pinned
beneath him and he leaned down. “I wanted to do this last night,” he whispered
in my ear. I closed my eyes, anticipating his next move. Sure enough his lips
found mine and he moved closer. I grabbed his bicep when he pulled me against
him. This kiss was like nothing I had ever experienced. Not wet, not sloppy, it
was…incredible. His lips were soft, warm and fit perfectly over mine. I stopped
holding back and fell into the moment. The loud club ceased to exist. When we
pulled apart I had to catch my breath. My insides were begging and pleading for
more. I could very easily have taken Dominic back to my apartment, slept with
him and then been done. I was about ready to propose this, but stopped myself
as another realization hit me.

I didn’t want just a one
night fling.

We moved in at the same
time for another kiss. Our lips barely touched when Brittany suddenly emerged
from the crowd, pulling me away from Dominic and onto the dance floor.

            “Brittany,
I was kind of in the middle of something back there,” I yelled over the music.

She ignored me, or
pretended to be oblivious, but the glittering in her eyes made me suspect she
knew exactly what she was doing. I glanced back towards the bar, but Dominic
was gone.

Damn.