CH2: UNINVITED
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His POV
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Edited by the wonderful Cheri Riser,
Finishing touches made by the magnificent Mist.
Ladies, I adore you.
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I watched her the whole evening.
I even heard his call.
Pfft. She believed him.
Incredible.
She even tried to make him feel better by telling him that her birthday was unimportant...just. another. day.
AND!
He got off scuff free-again-while she's left alone...again.
The lying sack of-
I know - for a fact! - that the asshole is diving head first into his secretary.
That he does this knowing he has a first class prime cut like this waiting for him at home...Ugh. Disgusting.
I shook my head once more at how some people can have the gonads to do something that...repugnant...to someone they swear their devotion and love for a lifetime.
I shook my head.
She's been lonely for a long time due to his choices.
I've noticed it since the start.
She thinks she hides it well, but the way she looks and clings to him when he's home shows it clearly.
The food she cooked smelled delicious. The setting, with her alone in the center of it was just...sigh...delectable.
Yet, it tugged at something inside me. The whole scene and background story tore at my heart.
She is ignorant of her husband's constant rendezvous with other women while she stays loyal. Whenever he does pity her enough to touch her, the selfish bastard just rounds up once and doesn't let her get off.
That's why I know he's a miserable asshole.
Because he shitted on the best thing that ever could happen to him-or anyone for that matter. To be able to have the one that completes you is a privilege not many get to enjoy.
I should know about that.
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I remember meeting her at a gala a couple of years ago. It was a masquerade down in New Orleans.
Original, I know.
Well, my excuse for hosting it was that my childhood friends had never been there and we were smack in the middle of Mardi Gras.
That still doesn't explain much, I know, but bear with me.
In the small town we grew up in - the Quileute Reservation in La Push, close to Forks Washington - there wasn't much to do for fun unless it was getting into some kind of trouble.
And we did. A lot.
I'd like to say that that was when I learned my stealthy abilities, but sadly that is a whole different story.
Once we were grown, responsible adults, people on the rez barely made it while living from paycheck to minuscule paycheck. Thank the spirits I was one of the few lucky enough to make into college and get a career.
After college, I came home and accidentally had an idea that became product. The demand for it grew exponentially in an amazingly short amount of time, which surprisingly became so large that I ended up hiring some of these childhood friends to be a part of the financial growth. This of course brought revenue to the reservation, creating more , more than half of the Rez works at my factory with a large quantity of the surrounding populous. Now, I have the ability to leave others in charge of product production and enjoy the fruits of my hard labor and sweat.
More has come out of it, but that's mainly what brought us here.
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We decided after a few stressful months-years, lifetime, whatever-that it had been too long for all of us not getting together for just recreation and fun. So we-they-decided it was time for a crazy vacation. Instead of the R&R I suggested-and due to the majority of the votes-New Orleans became 'the destination for fun.'
So, after much begging from their part, I relented. To make good impressions, I invited several of my colleagues and business networking acquaintances. It was then that someone must have leaked an invitation. Once I saw him, I thought about having him escorted out. I almost did.
Until I saw...her.
She enchanted me with a look.
Bewitched me.
Still, the last thing I wanted was to put myself through even a short conversation with that fool. So I did what I thought was best. I hid while her husband hounded me for an advertising contract with my chain of merchandise, then sought ways to get a hold of her alone, even if just for a dance.
Finally, when I got tired of this hide and seek game, I realized she was always with him, I yielded and decided to allow him to catch me.
He talked my ear off while I stole glances of her. All I could see were her eyes, her rosy cheeks...
It was the swirl of her honeyed caramel eyes that did me in. I was lost in her while her husband continued his insistent chatter.
When he spoke of meeting sometime soon to fill in lines and write up a contract, I saw opportunity. A money hungry shark like this would do just about anything for the possibility of a big pay off. To test that theory, I put on the charm and while never once taking my eyes off her I told him I would definitely think about it, but only after a dance with his enchanting companion.
It was as if I would have offered him bricks of gold. He immediately grabbed her hand and put it on mine, completely ignoring or blatantly choosing to disregard her obvious rebuttal attempt.
While under the enthusiastic scrutiny of her annoyingly persistent and incompetent companion, we chatted a little during the few slow songs I had previously reserved with the DJ, a personal friend, for this purpose.
Even though her words were slurring every so often, her husky voice caressed my mind to submission. Her open back dress allowed me to feel the silky skin of her back, which I kept caressing as we swayed from time to time, she trembled subtly as shivers crawled up her spine. She kept blushing and telling me that my touch was causing delicious goosebumps to rise.
Okay, she didn't say that my touch was delicious. That's just my ego speaking; and, lets just say, that she was not the only one getting bumps to rise.
But, damn, even her sultry voice caused my ears to feel feverish.
Knowing not only how I affected her, but my own reaction to her, I just had to get as much information about her as I could.
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By the time the party was over I had learned that the she was not the date of that obtuse man, but actually his wife. Had been so for the past couple of years in fact.
That slight of news, in itself, put a damper in my mood. Still, it didn't do much to stop me from my research.
She had kept her maiden name as respect for her father, Swan. Isabella Swan.
And what a beautiful swan she was.
She didn't like her first name though. Said it sounded too formal and prefered the shorter byname, Bella.
As a norm, she never mentions her middle name, Marie.
My mood rose from the depressive hole it had fallen into as a predatory smile creeped slowly across my face to this new knowledge.
Sounded so...biblically virginal.
My friend, Embry, however...tried his best to deter me from my mark.
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"Seriously, dude? Did you really say 'how virginal'?"
Damn, I must have said that out loud.
"Besides, She's married to that douche bag, so you got no chance here," he said in his no-nonsense tone and annoying persistence, "and he's got the girl wrapped and trained as the perfect Stepford wife. Didn't you notice it?"
"She's not happy with him." I stated as a fact.
He rolled his eyes and continued with his next point, "Happy or not what are you going to do about it? Right now you should be figuring out how to escape from meeting again with the little weasel."
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I learned a couple of months after that night that I had very lucky, indeed. The dickwad had either been way too drunk already or lacked in the memory department.
I had been chilling with a couple of my friends, drinking some beer and shooting pool in a bar. You know, following advice and actually relaxing after a hard day of just meeting after meeting and crunching numbers. Still trying to keep my mind off hunting the chick I had met a couple of months back.
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I recognized him immediately, and with an annoyed eye roll I hid behind a few people.
While he continuously tried to contact my office for another meeting - which I completely ignored - he failed to recognize me in person by confusing me with my friend.
I couldn't let this golden opportunity to see Bella slip through my fingers.
A light bulb went on in my brain and I raised my arm to flag my friend over. He couldn't sly by the retard, so I texted him to get the message, in hopes he had yet to reveal his identity.
Me: did u tell him who u r yet?
Embry: nope. still kissing my ass as if i wz u. about to tell his ass off tho. he scared that sweet ass sheila off.
Me: tell him u r me. let him talk ur ear off for a few mins. then come out.
Embry: u owe me.
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Thankfully, he didn't question me further, knowing I like my privacy and having done this for me in the past. He was usually my decoy of sorts.
About twelve minutes later, he was running out of the bar and hopping into the limo, on the seat beside me. The driver took off like a bat outta hell leaving the short and heaving dickhead behind in the dust.
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He began complaining as soon as he rested his ass on the seat, "You know...I understand the few times before you asked me to play 'personal assistant' and 'representative' of yours with the CEOs and chairmen we make business with. I'm even okay with being 'your voice' at public conferences," he continued moving so his back was against the door and he was facing my profile, meanwhile I avoided his eyes at all cost, "Now, I know you hate this guy and what he does for a living. Specially since his new addiction seems to be hunting your ass down. It would have been an easy wash off. So care to clue me in as to why was I playing decoy with him?"
"Now that he thinks you are me, I am free to get closer to Bella." I responded honestly.
"Not this again!" He moaned, then continued with irritation to point out, "Did you forget she's still married?"
"Unhappily." I defended as my reason.
"It's a fine line between obsession and criminal behavior," He scolded me, then moaned, "We are so gonna get exposed."
"All I gotta do is find a way to access her and I will prove it to you," I explained,ignoring his disapproving accusations, "-you will see things my way then."
"-And, if she's happy?" he asked, knowing my answer but still lacking believe.
Not that I gave him a reason to due to how I was acting.
I sighed heavily before answering.
"I will let her be and never pursue her again," I vowed.
His retort was nonverbal, but enough was understood from his unbelieving huff.
"But what if what I say its true?" I asked, "If she's really unhappy? What would you do?"
"In that case, I got your back, bro," he said with determined confidence, never giving light of doubt or pause.
"Kewl," I said, exhaling with relief a breath I didn't recall holding, "-now that we got that out of the way. What was he so excited about back there?"
My buddy huffed and muttered, "Can't believe I'm doing this," as he moved around digging into his pocket. Then suddenly a folded napkin was on my pant leg, which I grabbed looking at him weird.
New Manor
555 Diagonal St.
Syracuse, New York 01234
3 pm
casual
123-555-4321 (My Cell)
"What's this?" I asked lifting my eyes off the chicken scratch on the napkin, landing my sight on the smug growing smirk of my companion.
"What?" he said chuckling, "Don't you hear opportunity knocking now?"
At my furrowed brow and confused look, he continued, "It's their address. You are invited to a very relaxed business dinner at his house for his boss and colleagues." My excitement almost didn't let me hear his continued chatter, "Apparently there will be cubans and brandy offered. That will be a fun perk, but I thought of you and this obsession of yours, so without even you having to ask...your best friend here convinced him that I absolutely love masquerades and just refuse to attend another business party unless it is done with masks in a relaxed atmosphere. Now, guess what he was doing while I was running out to the limo?"
"I heard him yelling he 'would take care of it', but I wasnt paying attention to much else," I responded honestly, and not feeling his enthusiasm, "I just thought he was trying to reel you, well 'me', in."
"Well, yeah, but he was telling me that he would add a few things to the party, contact the others attending and reorganize the party into-"he paused, so I moved my hands in front of me in fast circles to encourage him to keep going, "- a masquerade. NOW, all I have to do is call him, let him know how many are in my entourage and he would have the caterer adjust the menu."
I didn't respond any further, I had no need to know more. By now, my face was almost splitting in half, I was grinning so wide. Now, thanks to my friend, asswipe back there won't know who I really am and thus allowing the possibility of my constant presence in her life.
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Like I mentioned before, the worm would do anything.
And I would be there, to take advantage of it all.
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With a mask in place, Embry posing as myself and group of my friends, I was invisible walking through the front door. The sharks smelled cash bleeding out of my decoy while I hunted in their turf and laid in wait to pounce.
During the first half of the party, I kept hidden, telling my friends to stand strategically and to just watch her...and him.
Their interaction.
He left her alone for most of the party, or the few times she was able to stay by him, he paid her no mind.
The fuckhead just...ignored her.
Scuff.
Unless he wanted something, then he sent her to 'fetch it' for him. He actually said that to her in front of guests.
We were horrified.
We even noticed he disappeared for about forty minutes while she was in the kitchen checking the catering and drink stock. Then watched as she searched for him and asked the other guests casually if they had seen him pass by.
The other guests politely denied knowing of his location, giving each other sly looks behind her back. Fuckers knew exactly where he was and what he was doing.
How. Appalling.
I had a sour taste in my mouth from what little I caught just observing.
I had remembered that he had offered me a Cuban and a brandy if I was ever to come to his house, then again to Embry when he confused him with me. So, after two hours in - and according to plan - my buddy requested a cigar. The spineless worm jumped at the chance to get me - well, my buddy - alone to talk business.
He was supposed to distract the creep, while the others sat in different areas and kept watch as she and I interacted for a while.
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When I approached her, she was sitting alone at the bar still, surrounded by at least seventy-five to one hundred people. This bothered me.
Surely, she had invited some friends. right?
I sat next to her, testing the waters of her memory, and watched her down her drink like a pro.
"I haven't seen someone chug a drink like that since I was in college." I expressed with slight awe, hoping that my voice wouldn't jog her memory.
"I never drank so much in college myself," She said slurring slightly, her glassy eyes narrowed but released after a few seconds and another long sip of her drink, "my habit has only earned me the letter-jacket recently, over the past few years."
Though I knew we were at her estate, I acted ignorant to that fact. I complemented the decor and some other details I figured were hers. She thanked me, revealing her partial ownership but dislike for such amounts of wasted space.
We spoke amiably like that. Slowly she became more animated and ignored her drinks more.
This allowed me to see her the real her.
Thankfully, she had yet to recognize me, so I kept going.
Suddenly, her eyes grew and became brighter with excitement.
"Oh wow! I remember you! You were at a party I attended a few months back while I was in New Orleans!" She said happily - my stomach dropped - I was about to slide off the stool and call mission abort when she grabbed my arm, "what was your name again?"
My insides released tension with a deep relief internal sigh.
"Ephraim Jacob Blackheart, my friends joke around calling me Jacob Black though." I said chuckling, she laughed and decided to continue playing the same game as my friends. I also told her I managed a lawn service back home but wanted to move into the area, and was thinking about looking for a local side job as a gardener to start over. She asked and I told her about my experience with home maintenance.
It wasn't a complete lie. I did have my own lawn service while I was in college, and my friends did make fun of me at work, but the joke she was told was reversed. My friends thought it was funny to call me Blackheart after watching the movie 'Braveheart'.
She told me one of her employees, coincidentally her groundskeeper, was to retire soon and that I should contact her husband for more information and to make sure I brought my references. She further explained some of the duties expected and that I would be needed twice a week for a day's work to maintain the garden and on call for other needed house maintenance upkeeping, and that since Mr, Bates was moving to a retirement home, that I was allowed to sleep in the future vacant quarters - on Manor ground - as a bonus.
Perfect.
I could do business while online, keep my buddy as my public representative while in my absence, and...
My thoughts were interrupted once I noticed the douche working his way through the crowd, a clear signal that my time was over. I excused myself saying I was tired and had an early day tomorrow.
Her eyes lost a bit of luster once I announced my departure. I chanced a kiss goodbye on the back of her hand and gave her my trademark smirk, earning a small smile and a pink blush in return.
Satisfied with the reaction I got from her, I lost myself in the groups of drunks until I was able to hide behind the bushes to get closer.
Embry, having lost he-who-talks-a-lot-of-bullshit, and the rest of my friends found me and kept watch with me as we spoke in low tones.
We listened as he told her off, his condescending words were centered around the fact that potential clients like it better when she stands pleasantly by his side, that she was required to stay by him at all times. She tries to refuse but ultimately submits to his will, although not before she asks for a strong drink: a whiskey on the rocks...a triple.
We were floored.
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Needless to say, my friend saw things a bit differently that day.
So, he caved in. Still, he didn't agree with the fact that I was after a married woman, whether unhappy or not.
The others backed me up one hundred percent. After all, my word was law.
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That was months ago.
Today, though...that was all the husband's doing.
During my time here, I have been a fly in the wall.
I've played gardener and maintenance guy for a few months now - not in that sexy 'bow chicka wow wow' way I would have liked to either - and in that time I've learned much about them. Well, mostly him and his choice in women. Yes, I said women, as in plural. Even married, the bastard was still on the prowl. The list about him is not long, but long enough.
- he doesn't date brunettes because they remind him of her.
- he never has a secretary longer than six month.
[less if he sees he won't be able to make them mount his saddle.]
- he's a slimy little selfish bastard, lying and not giving her what little she desires.
It's her subtle submissiveness in combination with his treatment of her that made her the perfect candidate for what I plan to begin today. And given this unique chance, I just couldn't resist.
I observed as she stumbled to get up from the cluttered dinner table, knowing what her evening entailed. Shuffling revealed her movements and I knew it was better for me if I moved onto different corner.
Always vigilant.
Always waiting.
She was walking towards the closet when she stopped dead in her tracks, she noticed the open window. After a second or two, she shrugged, uncaring, and kept moving. Her reaction couldn't have been more planned. When she laid the wine bottle on the chair I got another idea.
I grabbed it quickly and hid once again. I had to know how intoxicated she actually was. Though, if I were to judge by her flushed cheeks I would say that it wouldn't take much more to make her sleep deeply.
She took a small locked box or chest and the key from under the lampshade on the small round side table, walked passed it and the chair in her return - a bit too drunk to notice the bottle missing - and took it into the bathroom.
Unexpectedly, and in with a rather quick pace, she went downstairs again. I could hear her clearly opening cabinets and glass clinking as I went in the bathroom, curious as to the contents of the box. What I found brought a giddy smile to my face, which I had to bite my lip to stop from actually voicing, clearing me of any small doubts I had on the plan working.
She couldn't have been more perfect if I would have had her made to my specifications and expectations.
I made my way quietly to the top of the stairs and tried to see what she'd gone downstairs to do.
I saw her holding a bottle of Captain Morgan Private Stock - hmm, my favorite rum as well - to her chest, standing there, trying to see through the darkness and looking spooked.
Her silent conversation intrigued me as I watched her soft smile form as she looked to the ceiling, most likely thinking herself silly for being scared.
After all, what could happen with all the security surrounding her?
I bit the inside of my cheek to hold back the chuckle threatening to erupt from me as I watched her drink a swig from the bottle and barely grimace.
I did though.
That was just...Hardcore!
After a final nod of appreciation for the taste, she left the cabinet wide open and turned.
Seeing her turn, I knew she was returning. And so I made my way back to my spot but decided to set up the wine bottle. Rolling it from the chair to fall on the floor and quickly hid once again behind the wardrobe.
Her steps halted half way up after the bottle hit the floor.
Anyone else in her position would remember the hundreds of suspense horror flicks cluttering out of pop culture and would have listened to their self-preservation reaction.
Not her though. Not my kitten. She cautiously approaches danger with thirsty curiosity.
She finds the bottle spilled and frowns, but seems to decide it was nothing to be afraid off again. Then she goes to the hallway closet, retrieves a hand towel. When I see this, it triggers an idea and I reach for my pocket and open my bottle of chloroform and silently begin to make my way to her.
She's completely oblivious to me standing right behind her crouching form.
Once she stands, I wrap one arm around her to restrain her arms, pulling the towel from her hand and placing it over her open mouth as she yells for help. I tipped the bottle in my hand, spilling a few drops of its liquid onto the towel and feel her go limp in my grip as I whisper in her ear...
"Alone...at last..."
I laid her carefully on the bed, with the chloroform dampened towel over her face to keep her sedated while I finished the setup.
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Once I have done everything I needed to, I lift her - bridal style - and lay her in the backseat of my SUV and take off.
The excitement and dread rolls off me in waves as we clear the property and head for the turnpike.
It will be a few hours before we arrive at our destination but my imagination runs wild with what's about to come, as I glance at my sleeping lovely passenger.
And what a dreadful fun it will be.