Just Friends
Darkness had claimed the city of Toronto as Deja Foster sat down at her computer. She had a lot of work to do and very little time left. She had just less than three days to finish this chapter and get it out to her editor. That was the trouble with deadlines; they always came, even if you weren't ready for them.
As she set up her music and opened her latest novel; the front door of the apartment opened and closed. She leaned back in her chair and watched as her sixteen year old son shrugged off his backpack.
"Mom!" He stood in the kitchen and poked through the fridge. "What's for dinner?"
"Henry, its Pizza night." She called and he realized she was in the living room.
He strolled to the living room and gave her a loose hug. His long dark curls hung around his large shoulders. At sixteen he was built line a linebacker. All big muscles and huge frame; power and strength personified. He looked after himself too; jogging everyday and was getting into lifting weights. He was a martial arts student; loved to play soccer and was a whiz at chess.
He rested his chin on her shoulder; his long curls framed his handsome face. He studied the words on the screen. "Another English prince romance story?"
She smiled, "Sort of."
"Let met guess, the bastard son of Henry VIII saves the kingdom with a heroic act of courage and morality."
She smiled at him, "Not quite that innocent and you're not old enough to read it."
He chuckled, "You could just get yourself a boyfriend you know."
"Why? I have a man I love," She ruffled his hair; he shook her off and stood up. He was tall for his age.
"Want me to order the usual?" He asked; moving to the television.
"Sure." She focused on her work. "I am working the graveyard shift at the store; so you need to get yourself up and out in the morning."
"Sure."
The noise of the t.v. didn't distract her as she worked on her last chapter. She found the noise a welcome comfort; her son was stretched out on the couch. He had a text book over one knee and his notebook in both hands.
Deja glanced at the textbook; her son had been accepted at McGill University earlier this year. He was a genius and had adapted well to the studies and environment. He was physically imposing, so not many people bullied him. At the university it was mostly students in their early twenties; very few of them cared if he was younger then them.
He glanced up at her, arching a brow. "Something wrong?"
"No, just thinking." She turned back to the computer and kept grinding out the words. Tonight it just wasn't working. She couldn't get her mind to care about her work. Her characters seemed dead, empty.
"Mom, go for a walk. I'll save half the pizza for you."
She turned in her chair and smiled at him, "Guess that means you're getting two extra-large pizzas then?"
He grinned; he had a wonderful smile. "You caught me."
"Just leave the receipt for me on the table." She stood, crossing to the door and shrugging on a heavy coat. "Don't stay up too late."
"See you tomorrow." He said absently, returning to his studies.
Deja checked her pockets for her keys and cell phone. The door clicked shut behind her and she made her way down the hall. Quickly jogging down the steps she burst out into the cold, autumn air and felt better. She loved walking at night; especially during the autumn-season. It was cold but not bitter-winter-cold. The leaves were rich colors and crunched under her shoes. She stuffed her hands in her jacket; they got cold very quickly. Keepng her head down she let her long dark hair cover her as she walked. The wind tugged at a few loose strands; playing with her as it tumbled across the city.
As she crosses the street; she had no idea how far she was from home. It didn't matter though; her son was capable and she needed to get out for a bit. As she stepped up on the curb her cell phone rang. Taking it out of her pocket she smiled at the number; her spirits lifting even higher.
"Your grace," She laughed, grinning at the chuckle she got in response.
"My lady," The smooth, seductive voice whispered on the other end. "A moment?"
"Sure," Deja stepped to the side, keeping out the foot-traffic. "What's on your mind?"
"Aside from you, in my arms…" He let it hang in the air.
She laughed, "You're in a good mood tonight."
"I am talking to a beautiful woman, naturally I am happy."
She was grinning like a dope and he hadn't even told her what he wanted. "Did you call to just talk pretty? Not that I mind."
"I need your brilliant mind, actually."
She sighed heavily, "It's not so brilliant tonight I am afraid."
"Awwe," He chided playfully, "Perhaps you need to be inspired."
She laughed, "Perhaps."
"Come see me, I'll inspire you."
She smiled at the image of him in her mind, "Are you going to be dressed this time?"
"I liked your response the last time I saw you, so maybe not."
Deja shook her head, laughing again. "I'll be there shortly."
"Looking forward to it."
Deja changed direction and headed toward the wealthier part of town. The tall high-rise condo building was a new model and it cost a lot to buy a unit. She had looked into it; considering the condo a good buy. But with her son in university and not working; it was a waste of money. His tuition had been covered by his scholarships and awards. But she still didn't feel right in spending hundreds of thousands of dollars on herself. They had a good apartment; sure it was on the low-rent side of things, but it was warm in the winter, cool in summer and affordable. That was all that she cared about.
She found the building; opened the door and nodded to the night-desk guard as she walked across the foyer. He returned it. Deja waited for the elevator, looking over her reflecting in doors. She was short, just over five feet in height. Her body was curvy and full, despite her dieting and exercising. She was an hour-glass shape, women like her could never be thin; they weren't built for it. Her long, copper-brown curls were thick and heavy. They hung down to her hips in tight curls of shimmering silk. Her face was heart-shaped, with green-blue eyes, pale complexion with a full, pouty mouth.
There had been those who called her beautiful; she didn't care much for that stuff. She didn't need to know she was attractive, or really care. The only man who made her smile when he said it; was waiting in the suite she was about to arrive at.
Deja stepped off the elevator and crossed to the oak doors. She knocked and stuffed her hands in her pockets again. Her hands were cold still; she wasn't really a warm-blooded person by nature; she always ran cold. It was just one of those things that she accepted and didn't bother to get fixed. There didn't seem to be much point.
The doors opened, she grinned at the sight of him. The man in front of her was taller then her; with dark brown curls, blue eyes and an incredibly beautiful face and amazing body. He was on the phone and paused in his conversation at the sight of her. He smiled and waved her in, stepping aside.
Deja glanced at the dark-wash jeans and red sweater. He was casual tonight, like most nights when he worked.
"Vicki I have to go, I have company." He ended the call and slid the cell phone into his pocket. He smiled as he shut the door. "Hello, lovely."
She smiled, glancing back at him, "Hello, handsome."
He crossed the floor, to stand beside her as she politely looked around. He motioned for her coat; she unzipped it and he graciously accepted it, folding it over one arm.
"Thanks for coming by."
She nodded, "I don't have long, I have to work tonight."
"On your book?"
She sighed, "No, though I have to finish that too. I work at the store tonight."
He made a face, but didn't say anything. Instead he went to his work-area and waved her over. Deja made her way over and studied the new panels of work.
"You like it?" He asked.
"Of course I do," She admired the work; as always he was incredibly gifted at capture the dark beauty of his work. "I always admire your work, Henry."
He smiled at her, "And I yours. I am looking forward to reading about what happens to Edward and Christine as they try to escape England."
She shrugged, putting her hands in her jeans pockets. "We'll see." She faced him and had to admit, he was gorgeous. Deja had known him for well over a decade and they had always managed to remain platonic friends. How exactly, she wasn't sure, there was something about him that gnawed at her. Demanded to be fed; like a hungry animal. But she always managed to fight it back and turn that energy into a wonderful novel. Indeed, her friendship with Henry Fitzroy had enabled her to write incredible books. The profits from those books had supported her family and kept her head above water.
He frowned slightly, "You look sad."
She shook her head, "Just thinking."
"About what?"
She sighed, looking at the desk instead of his blue eyes. "I hope I didn't interrupt a dinner date?"
"No, that was research, in a manner of speaking."
"Ah," Deja absently reached for a sketch, turning it to face her. "So what do you need help with?"
"Dialogue. I am not sure what this one character should say." Henry handed her a sheaf of papers.
Deja accepted them; studying the images. She watched them, letting them flow into her mind and form a silent movie. Eventually dialogue came to mind. She sorted it out in her mind; silently scripting it out before speaking to Henry.
They spent a their time discussing the dialogue and the pictures. She looked over the map of the story, saw where it was going and how it was supposed to end. Adjusting the script to fit with the outcome Henry wanted.
Her cellphone went off some time later; she jumped, having forgotten about it. It was an alarm reminding her to be at work in a hour.
"I should go," She said gently, "Work is waiting."
Henry glanced up at her; his curls falling around his face. For an instant he looked like her son; she smiled at him. Her hands absently reaching for the soft curls, she stopped herself suddenly.
She left the make-shift
office and headed to the door. Henry followed her. "Why don't you
give up that common job and focus on your books?" he asked.
She
shrugged, as he helped her with her coat. "I like it Henry. That
job keeps money coming in and rent paid. The books are a hobby;
there's no guarantee that they'll always pay this well."
"If you spent more time focusing on them and less on your menial job; you wouldn't have to worry." He countered, blocking her path to the door.
Deja stared up at him, his blue eyes were serious. "What's going on with you, Henry?"
"I don't like seeing you waste yourself on this stuff. You're an incredibly talented artist, a brilliant writer. You need to focus on that."
"No, I need to focus on feeding my teenage son; keeping a roof over our heads and the bills paid." She didn't keep the edge of out of her voice. Old anger warmed through her; this was a very bitter subject for her.
Henry watched her a few minutes, "I've upset you."
"No," She snapped and had to take a breath, "Not you, directly, anyway. I chose to live this way. I could have married, I could have married very well as a matter of fact. Lived in a huge mansion and never had to lift a finger. But that's not what I wanted, not for my child or me. Things like that can disappear, you know that."
He nodded slowly.
Deja shoved her hands into her coat pockets. "Henry, had I wanted a palace I could have had it. But instead I chose to work for my money. I wanted to be common, as you put it. It was the best choice I had for who I wanted my son to be."
He watched her, suddenly reaching out and smoothing her curls back from her face. Deja went still under his hands. He'd touched her before; but there was something different in this touch. His energy was different; the look his eyes was different.
"Henry?" She made it a question. Trying to read his expression, "What are you doing?"
"You look so sad, Deja." He made her name sound romantic, like a dream. "You haven't had a man in your arms or your bed for far too long."
She wasn't sure what to say to that; to her surprise she heard herself answering. "Are you offering?"
He smiled, his eyes sparkled with a sexual humor. "Perhaps."
"You're younger then me." She pointed out in a poor attempt to dissuade her imagination.
"Not really, we both know I am much older then you." He leaned in close, holding her still with his hands on either side of her head. "What are you afraid of Deja?"
She didn't want to answer that, but her voice echoed in her ears. "I don't want to become addicted to you."
"Would that be such a bad thing?" He asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Yes, I am afraid it might."
"Why?" He seemed to be inching closer. "Don't you want to know who good I am?"
She smiled at him, "Of course I do. I am a woman after all."
"I won't say no." He stopped a few inches from her lips, "You can have me if you want me."
"For how long?" She asked, and saw him draw back a little.
His eyes were serious for a moment, "You aren't looking for a husband."
"No, I am not. But I can't bring you into my life and keep you from my son. He's not blind or dumb. Henry will know you are the cause of my happiness."
The vampire in front of her leaned back even further. "What possessed you to call him Henry?"
She shrugged and felt her shoulders brush his arms. "I like the name. What you think it's cause of you?"
"We did know each other back then."
"And you were the one to drive to me to the hospital." She remembered the night of her son's birth and smiled. "You waited all night in the visitor's area."
He nodded, "You were young and scared, I wasn't going to walk out on you."
Deja sobered at the reminder of her age; both then and now. She had a sixteen year old son to think about. She couldn't have this Henry in her life. It just wouldn't work. She managed to step back of his hands and shook her head. To clear her mind it of thoughts of him naked and loose the memory of his hands on her.
"I appreciate all you've done for me, Henry. It might be awkward of we were ever to have sex."
He crossed his arms, as if cold. "No, it wouldn't. You're not looking for romance and rings; neither am I. Nothing is complicated about it."
She smiled at him, it was more of a tired smile. "You don't give up, do you?"
"Nope."
She glanced at her cell phone and realized she was going to be late. "I have to leave."
"Quit the store," he said firmly, "You're better then that place."
She stared up at him and felt that familiar ache of desire in her body. She wanted him; everything in her wanted him. Wanted to kiss him, feel his flesh under hands, to have one night in his arms. What could it hurt to give in? Just this once, to give in to her needs and let herself be free?
"Damn," Deja whispered as she reached up and grabbed him. They fell back against the door, Henry pressed up against the pale oak surface.
Henry welcomed her and the kiss was passionate. She pressed her body into his and he yielded to her. His arms wrapped around her back, pressing her skull tighter to his mouth; as he kissed her.
Man, oh man, could Henry kiss! So this is what six centuries of practice got a girl? What else could he do?
Deja was quickly loosing the battle to stay aware; her lust was crashing over her common sense in a red-hot wave of screaming need.
A sound broke through her moans of pleasure. Deja reached for the annoying offender and froze. Her son was calling. Henry stopped at her suddenly tense body. "What's wrong?"
Deja stepped away from him, answering the call. "Baby, what's wrong?"
"Hello, honey."
She felt the phone slip from her hand, as the other went to her mouth. She felt the room tilt and strong hands caught her.
"Deja, what it is?" Henry's voice was worried. He picked up her cell phone as he held her in one arm. "Henry, what's happened?"
"Who the hell is this?" The man on the other end was pissed off.
Henry frowned, the voice was familiar. It was the same voice that had called Deja the day her son was born and made her cry. Henry felt his jaw clench as he resisted the urge to snarl.
"Where's Henry?"
"He's right here," the voice said coolly, "Henry, come and talk to your mother's lover."
There was a ruffle of sound as the phone changed hands. A young, rough voice answered, "Fitzroy?"
Henry didn't like the anger in the young man's voice. "Answer me in yes or no responses, got it?"
"Yes."
"Are you alright?"
"Yes,"
"Do I need to come and get you?"
"No,"
"Are you in danger?"
"No."
Henry sighed and looked at the stricken woman in his arms. "Your mother's not doing very well."
There was a moment of silence. "I expected that."
The young man's tone was guarded, cautious.
"Can you talk freely?"
"No."
"I can be there in ten minutes."
"Stay with her, I am fine."
There was a scratch of white noise as the phone was taken back. "Who the hell are you?"
"The better question is who are you?"
"Connor Ross, I am here for my son. Imagine my surprise of finding him alone; in a house full of sex novels."
Henry frowned, sex novels? He realized then that the man was referring to Deja's novels. "They're called erotic fiction."
"They're porno in print." The man snapped angrily, "So this is what she leaves him with? And since when is pizza a food group?"
Henry recalled that tonight was their family pizza night. He had to stop himself from starting an argument with the man.
"Put Henry back on the phone," he demanded, using his vampire voice in hopes it would work.
The phone changed hands again, "Fitzroy, what did you do?"
"This guy says he's your father, have you met him before?"
"Sure, a few years ago when I was in New York for a soccer match. Mom doesn't know."
"Why not tell her?"
"They hate each other, like world-war-hate, if she knew she'd loose her shit."
"Don't swear, Henry."
The young man sighed, "You know what I mean right?"
He did know actually, he had his own daddy-issues, even six hundred years later. "What am I supposed to tell her?"
"I am not going anywhere with him, Fitzroy. He's in town for a business meeting; we agreed to meet. But it was supposed to be tomorrow."
"So why tonight?"
"Said he had big news, said it couldn't wait."
Henry frowned, he didn't like that. "And what news is that?"
"He's getting married, his girlfriend is pregnant."
"And?" Henry knew there was more to it then that.
The young man was quiet for a few seconds. "He's invited me to live with him from now on."
"What about school?"
"I can transfer to a university in New York or Texas."
"You'd move to the United States?"
"That's where he's from and yeah, I would. It would be nice to get to know him more."
"Henry, if your mother did all this to keep you apart, perhaps you should hear her out."
"I know her reasons!" The young man fumed, "I know her stories. My dad isn't a bad guy, Henry!"
The vampire sighed, he wasn't a family counselor. "If you were unhappy you should hve spoken to her."
"I tried, but she refused to listen to anything I had to say. When it comes to my dad she just stops listening."
Fitzroy could see this wasn't going anywhere good. "At least talk to her before you leave. Let her say goodbye."
The young man was quiet, "I won't promise anything. I am leaving Monday with my father."
"Don't walk out on her like this, Henry. Not like this."
"She's miserable; depressed and isolated. She refuses to date, to get a life. She just withdraws into her work and her books. I don't want to live with that anymore."
"Just talk to her, that's all I am asking."
"Maybe, bye Fitzroy."
Henry stared at the cell phone in his hand and sighed. He lifted Deja in his arms and settled her on the couch. She was resting for now. He set the phone on the coffee table and stood for a few minutes. His mind was spinning in useless circles. He knew for a fac that she wouldn't take her son's departure very well. Henry knew she could spiral back into her self-destructive habits. He had been the one to find her bleeding and OD'ed on sleeping pills, fourteen years ago. She'd tried to kill herself when her son was in the hospital recovering from a bad cold. She'd just lost total confidence in herself and had been unable to recover. He didn't blame her. At the time she's been only a kid herself; struggling to maintain her own life and her two-year old child's. Deja had every reason to crash and burn; being a single-parent at such a young age, had hit her really hard. She'd been alone and isolated from her family. Henry wasn't sure why that was; but he'd been the only friend she'd had back then. He'd found her bleeding from a slashed wrist; too lost in a drug haze to care. He'd taken her to hospital and made sure the records of her care disappeared. She'd come close to loosing her life and her son; sometimes he wondered if the two were synonymous with one another. As angry and hurt as Deja had been; she loved her son. She had just gotten lost in her own mind. It happened, it had happened to him more then once.
Henry sighed and closed his eyes. He doubted she would turn suicidal this time; she had coping methods for that. But she might shut down. If her son thought she was depressed and withdrawn now….he had no idea how bad it would be after he left.
The vampire sat in his armchair and stared at the human across from him. Deja was good woman. She was smart; funny and caring. She was generous with her time and her concern for others. She had been warm and compassionate toward him; even after learning what he was. Henry would never forget her courageous actions in protecting him. It had been too close to dawn and he's been trapped in a building. He'd been establishing his hunting grounds and chasing out the competition. With the sun so close he couldn't make it home. Deja had found him; pulling him into a storage closet as he started to burn. She'd fed him her blood and stayed with him. Henry awoke and found her sitting with her back to him; guarding the thin wood door with a steel pipe in one hand. She'd been tired and worried about her son; so she hadn't stayed long. Just enough time for him to wake up and be able to care for himself.
Henry had followed her home that night; watching her as she thanked her roommate. At the time she had lived with another woman; the roommate hadn't lasted long after that. Deja wasn't much for sharing her space; with anyone other then her son. He had watched her play with her son; talk to him, sing to him. Watched as she bathed him and dressed him, cuddling him until the toddler fell asleep in her arms.
For all the problems Deja had, she loved her son. She cared for people.
The vampire leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. Tonight he would watch over her; and when she woke, he would try to help her.
