Taste

Ostentatious, that's how I would describe his looks from up close. It was even more alluring when he flashed that wicked little grin threatening to get closer and kiss me. In the grip of his arms, I had no chance. I closed my eyes and waited for the worse. His presence vanished from me.

I opened my eyes and a simple, "Huh?" escaped me.

He was a few steps away by then. He turned still smiling, "Don't think of me that way. I'm not like them. I'm not... cheap. You should have just waited to get someone more standard and maybe someone less..." he chuckled. He was holding his glasses. His vision appeared perfect, almost piercing enough to see my very soul. Then, why the façade?

He left my side. Standing there even more perplexed than before, I snapped back to reality once I heard his door slam shut. In a mater of seconds, the phone was pressed against my ear as I impatiently waited for Julie to pick up the phone. I was going to get the answer, regardless of what research I'd have to do.

"Hello?" she finally picked up.

"Julie," I said anxiously.

"Hey Lea, what's up? Everything OK, now?"

"Not really. Actually, I have a favor to ask of you."

"Uh, sure. What is it?"

"L-let's have lunch tomorrow."

"Sounds great, where?"

I bit my lip thinking of a place, and finally decided, "How about that small garden in the library? No one really goes there."

"Great, see you then." She sounded eager to hang up.

"Oh, and..."

"What?"

"Could it be just you this time?" she kept silent, so I hurried to explain, "I know Aiden should be like family to me now, but... just this once?"

I heard her snicker, and she agreed to my plea, "Sure, girl talk only. Good night."

I felt like half of my Herculean task was completed. After all, how complicated could it get, right?

I dropped like a stone on my bed after a nice hot shower. I never imagined I'd be so tired after missing half a day of work.

That morning was another unusual awakening. My eyelids were too heavy, but I was still concerned about the time. In my tactile search toward my table, my fingers ran across something like porcelain, soft, cold, and firm. I traced over it before opening my eyes. It was round, but it was to close to be the lamp. And when I opened my eyes, it made sense. The round figure at my fingertips belonged to a bare shoulder. Impossible, shocking and unbelievable was all that could be said.

Allan was in my bed, under my sheets, and very close to me! He slept, while my heart sank in a fret. I hurried to check under the sheets. The waft of his lavender scent filled my senses. I refrained from screaming only because we had our clothes on –well, he was shirtless, but at least he had his pants on. Just as I had some relief, the alarm rang sending my heart to overdrive. Our hands met as we both reached for it.

When the noise was gone, our eyes met. Without glasses in the way, we could clearly see one another's eyes. He lacked all interest and tossed around.

"Hey!" I yelled and shook his shoulder, "What do you think you're doing! This is my bed!"

He sat up and looked at me. His eyes narrowed and after a deep sigh, he explained, "You're really inconsiderate."

"What?!"

He made quotation marks with his fingers, "That 'room' you gave me is nothing more than a closet. I couldn't stretch my legs in that tiny space. I should report you for cruelty against your life-partner, but..." as he said that he rubbed my leg with his feet trying to show the length of his legs.

"Eeeek! Don't do that!" I yelled. Trying to avoid his playful touch, I rolled over my edge of the bed and fell flat on my behind.

"Well," he got up stretching and offered me a hand to stand up, which I rejected. He shrugged, "Suit yourself. I'm off to work. I'd make you breakfast, but I know you can handle mixing cereal and milk on your own, right?"

I didn't dignify his cocky remark with an answer and just sat there on the floor with my bruised ego –and butt– waiting for him to leave. Perhaps, it was that I lacked my glasses, but in that moment, I saw him fade away like the blur of a ghostly apparition. I shook my vision away and began to make the bed. I was tempted to go change the sheets, but part of me was reluctant to wash away the fragrance of his body –that and I was late for work.

After I finally got dressed and brushed my hair, I looked for him. He was gone. His room was wide open. The futon neatly rolled up against the corner.

To keep some of my dignity, I had toast for breakfast. Still, to my personal disappointment, I found myself eagerly looking for him outside. His car was nowhere in sight. I couldn't believe it. I felt abandoned, and even on the bus I looked out of the window somehow hoping that he would rush to the side of the bus and point me to get off on the next stop. It wouldn't happen. When I realized so, I sought distraction in the only private property I could have in that public mode of transportation, my purse.

In my search I found an old lip gloss I had never used. I dabbed some of the watermelon flavored make up on my lips. The amusement didn't last long enough. My lips felt moistened but also sticky as if I had gum all over. I wiped the make up away, and the tissue I used reminded me of the ticked from yesterday. I searched and nearly dumped the contents of my bag on the seat next to me. That sneaky devil! He took it. He, he... he didn't trust me. Knowing so, felt like a needle jabbed into my heart. I trusted him to let me take care of it, and he...

Crying wouldn't help. I immersed myself in work, impatiently looking at the clock every five minutes until it was lunch time. I rushed to the hidden garden like a child, and much like one, I realized I hadn't packed anything for lunch.

I fiddled with my thumbs waiting for Julie to arrive. Having to tell her we'd have to go somewhere else might be a deal breaker, but at this point it was too late. Unexpectedly, someone showed up from behind me covering my eyes. I was about to push the person away, almost sure that it was Allan. But a quick feel of the hands over my eyes set things right. These hands were a girl's hands; small, almost smaller than mine and very soft too –not to mention the wedding ring.

"Julie!" I exclaimed.

"Damn!" she said as she let go, "Did the ring give me away?"

"I know I have my issues, but I wouldn't miss that."

"Yep, not to mention that I was the only person you were about to meet here."

I agreed by nodding. The second I was about to confess we had to go eat at another place; she flashed a picnic basket before my eyes. I was grateful, "How did you know that I didn't have anything?"

My tears of joy almost turned into tears of grief when she hid the basket behind her back and asked, "You don't have food? And you invited me? Well... I'm not giving you any." She stuck out her tongue at me. I was about to cry out when she winked, "Just kidding! Dude, you look like you just lost a million bucks."

"I feel like it," I admitted and hung my head in shame.

She laughed nervously, "Come on, my here can't be such a quitter. Let's eat lunch and have that talk you wanted, ok?"

Lunch was heavenly. I have had Caesar salad before –or at least I had been told it was– but this was five stars above the rest. I had to compliment the chef, "Julie, this is... delicious! Did you take a cooking class or something?"

"Are you saying my cooking was bad before?" she arched an eyebrow.

"No, no! It's just that..." I was at a loss for words.

She started laughing, and only after a while did she say, "Thanks, but the credit goes to Aiden. I know my cooking isn't worthy of praise."

"Uh... of course it is." I exaggerated the truth of my opinion. After all, her cooking was usually something pre-made. So, I continued, "Still, I had no idea an Edward could cook so well."

"Yeah, I guess he has to."

"Eh?"

"Aiden's the top chef at the King's Palace Hotel."

"R-really?!"

She seemed bewildered by my reaction, and eventually managed to explain, "Yeah. I guess I hadn't mentioned that. Actually, there are a lot of things you don't know about him. But, we're here because you wanted 'girl talk', right? So, let's get to it."

"Uhm," I nervously threaded my hair in my finger, "Well, I was sort of hoping you could tell me more about Aiden. Or better yet, about your relationship with him."

I don't know why the word relationship made her flush, but still she asked, "OK, what do you want to know?"

"Well, the usual. Like, did you guys ... I mean, what was it like when he first moved in with you?"

"Oh yeah!" she sounded as though she had sparked back to life, "I was a mess, remember?" I nodded and she continued, "I have a one room apartment, so all the space I had for him was the living room couch. I was vexed when he settled in without arguing or anything."

I cut in the middle of her story desperately trying to merge her story with mine, "So, on that first day, uh, or night did he... Did he get 'touchy' or like some people would say, amorous without your permission?"

She laughed nervously and gave me a look that made me think, am I crazy?

I felt the urge to explain, "You know physical stuff and birds and bees and..."

"Yes, I get it." She stopped me and patted my shoulder, "He looked so serious at first that I felt a little wary. But when I woke up in the middle of the night to get a glass of water, I noticed the lamp in the living room was on. When I went to turn it off, I had completely forgotten he was there. I found him there. His body stretched across the couch. He had fallen asleep with a book across his chest. I was captivated by his looks. The second I reached for the lamp's switch, I found my fingertips tracing over his lips. It startled me when his eyes opened."

That was it, the moment I had waited for and inadvertently added my own story, "And he reached for you and kissed you or something?"

"No," she said almost disgusted, "He gazed at me like I was still in his dream. He tenderly touched the back of my hand, and asked, 'Is everything OK?'

"I felt shivers down my spine." as did I when she said it, "His godly eyes looking at me made my heart jump. And for the very first time in years. I spent the night dreaming awake."

"You mean..."

"Oh no! Nothing like that. I went to my room, and he stayed there. Uh... Lea, did you expect Allan to get... 'amorous' with you the first night? 'Cause Aiden was a complete gentleman. So, I'm sure Allan was one too... or am I wrong?"

Not at all, I thought, if anything I had expected Allan to be like Aiden. So I lied my butt off, "No, you're not. Allan's a charming gentleman. He even fixed me a delicious meal yesterday."

"Good!" she grinned, "Does he work in that too?"

"No, he's... he works in an office. But he's not so bad at cooking. I guess it's like a hobby for him."

"I'm so glad," she sighed, "I've been worried about you. I was even considering going to see you yesterday. So, what's he like?"

"Oh," her question caught me off guard. I was sure I'd be asking the questions, but for now I had to admit, "He's... tall, about six feet, short messy auburn hair –like I always pictured the original Edward from the novels would have– and he wears glasses too, but he has the most beautiful light brown eyes almost like honey."

"Hm, that does sound like... Does he have a velvet voice and skin like marble?"

"Well, now that you mention it... sort of," I realized what she was thinking, but never in a million years could Allan compare, so I stopped her, "He's nothing like the original! He wears glasses and office clothes."

"Oh," her expression became stoic, "Kind of plain then."

"So, when did you guys first kiss?" I sprung to ask a question before she could ask anything else.

She gave me a suspicious look and declared, "After he had lived with me for three days. He's such a gentleman..." she covered her mouth and flushed at the memory, "He took on the task of cooking. So, the least I could do was wash dishes. When I was doing that, I glass broke and I cut my finger with the shards. My instinct was to press my wounded finger in my lips. I was so embarrassed by my clumsiness that I wanted to cry. But then, he did the unthinkable. He took my hand away and seeing there was no blood on the cut, he held my face in his hands and kissed me. My first kiss tasted like my blood, but it was also sweet."

I was so immersed in her description of the event that I found myself closing my eyes and visualizing what she had seen. For all I know, I was probably drooling because she began chuckling. I opened my eyes and scrambled to regain my train of thought and get back to my questions. "What after that? Did he get 'touchy' then?" I asked more aggressively than I had intended.

"No," she said still laughing, and eventually she got serious enough to admit, "If anything, he's always been nothing but a gentleman. He was never inappropriate. He waited patiently until our honeymoon and... I'm not giving you details on that. But you can trust me, when I say that I always felt safe with him. I was the one that scared myself sometimes. I... I just couldn't believe he was with me. And at times I wanted to rush things."

"And of course you didn't." I grimly added.

"I didn't want to disappoint you or my mother."

Disappointment was something that weighed heavily upon my shoulders. Many things wonder through my mind, and my mouth blurted out a question that wasn't on my list, "So, does he ever talk about his family, his childhood? Does he even have any of those?"

Until now, I only knew Edwards were born of surrogate mothers. Women who had no husbands or deceased ones could be recipients to bear genetically altered embryos. Still, to most of us –mostly single women– it was a mystery how they became men of such grace. None of us had met any in school or as children.

And now, my world view turned as Julie fidgeted with a napkin almost debating whether to tell me or not. Friendship and loyalty won, and she began, "He didn't talk about it. It took him a while to feel comfortable enough to say anything. I can understand why. Allan will probably tell you eventually, but as I see it, it helps to understand why they seem so aloof at times. Maybe Allan is different, but..."

I interrupted, "He's not. He's aloof and... Well, please tell me. I'll be grateful if you do."

She gave me a quick nod and continued, even if it seemed to hurt her somehow, "They are born women, but not all women stay. Some women prefer to return to society rather than stay in the farms."

"Farms?"

"Yes," she hurried to explain after a quick glance at his watch, "They grow in rural areas. Women who choose to stay are known as 'mother hens'. They raise a group of boys and teach them while living in the farms. They have schools, and everything, but it's all very different from the city. When they come of age, they either get set to be married or go on to universities. Eventually, they are separated from their mothers and brothers. Although, they are allowed to write home, it's rare for them to ever return. Can you imagine? How lonely they feel... and yet, Aiden told me... when they find someone, or better said they are set with a partner, they take all their hopes and dreams into that one person. To become their world is..." Tears began to stream down her cheeks and voice choked.

I cried with her. Through her words I had seen the green fields, the families being broken, and the bitter melancholy in the eyes of those boys. Yet, I missed something, something that I saw as she picked up the basket and left with a smile. Her tears were greatly tears of joy. For her, to know she was that man's world must be... amazing. And to know that to Allan, I would probably never be like that crushed a portion of my soul.

After work, he was waiting for me. From the window I saw him wearing dark blue jeans and a back t-shirt with a single spider-web print over his right shoulder. The casual wear meant that he either missed work again, or he had gone home early to make dinner. I got in the car stiff like a robot and swallowed my questions. He remained sitting and asked, "How was your day?"

"Good," I said looking at the window as he did.

Nothing else was said in the car ride. He drove like a maniac. Except that this time, since I didn't say a word, he didn't get caught be the cops. He stopped at every police check-point. I wondered if he had memorized their usual spots, but I knew he was doing better because I had kept my mouth shut.

I had no energy to argue or say anything, even after the heart-stopping ride. In the low point of my day, I turned the key to the front door and found the phone ringing inside. Julie was on the line. She was inviting us over for dinner, and they wouldn't take no for an answer. At the very least, I changed my coat and off we were. Allan was oddly submissive and uncommunicative.

When we arrived he chivalrously opened the door for me. We had no trouble finding their new home. You could see it from the highway. A newly remodeled, white Victorian house. Not only was she making money as a published fiction writer, but now I knew Aiden was a successful chef at a five-star restaurant.

The doorbell sounded like a melodious set of bells. I could picture tiny angels like cupid ringing those bells to tie up the harmony in the house. The door opened with a slight creak, but the light inside the flow of light jazz music stopped. Julie stood at the door. She looked like a model. Her perfect crisp curls draped over her shoulders. Even someone not into fashion like me could tell she was wearing a high class dress. I knew she fancied Armani clothing, and that deep blue dress with semi circle neckline wasn't something you find at a discount store. The slight wrinkling that ended above the knees made the lines of her legs even sharper. Her black couture shoes small and flat made the look come together like a pixie from a fantasy.

I, on the other end, had arrived in my gray tight skirt of unknown designer. My white shirt screamed OFFICE! Had it not been for my black jacket with three quarter sleeves and vine designs I would have felt like running back home saying that I suddenly had an upset stomach. I greeted her with a kiss on the cheek after my crushing fashion assessment was over. She gestured toward Aiden, who had suddenly appeared next to her.

Aiden was another majestic victory of the world of fashion. He was wearing a long sleeve, deep burgundy sweater, perfect for the fall weather –and still tight enough to make sure his muscular physique was seen by all. His slade-fit black jeans accentuated his muscular thighs. His shoes were also casual Ed Hardy's with a skull design and the word 'Death' on them. To realize and take note of that must have taken me a while, because he impatiently reached over and took my hand to shake it. Needless to say, I felt like a dumb kid who had just been taught how to greet people.

I scrambled to introduce Allan with awkward gesturing, "Uh, guys, this is Allan... my partner." I sounded more disappointed than I should have, but how could I not in the presence of such perfect company.

Allan reached over and shook hands with them. Of course, they graciously covered for my mistake and introduced themselves. In a split second, I felt I imagined it, but... I could have sworn the handshake between Aiden and Allan was somewhat longer. It was like they had exchanged a swift glare filled with apathy. Still stuck in my own awkwardness, I felt like curling up into a little ball and rolling down a hill and into a dark abyss. It wouldn't happen, so I smiled the best I could and followed them.

Their house from the inside was as spacious as the outside. In fact, it was as if the stairs, the living space and even the dining room had been taken from the description of the Cullen's house in Twilight. But I had no proof of that, and no will to question it. So, I did my best to gawk at the exquisite paintings and the marble chimney. The table set up was also elegant, far too much for a simple dinner with friends. It made me nervous. I'm always extremely self-conscious of my eating when there is more than one type of fork in sight.

Allan sat next to me at the table. And perhaps it was me, but he seemed like shield. Julie somehow seemed more quiet than usual, but I was to sullen to care. Across from us, Aiden sat next to her lavishing all his attention and soft caresses on her. It was nothing more than a reverse mirror, two perfect opposites.

Salad was the first course. I could tell it was a Mediterranean salad because of the black olives. Red wine was the drink of choice, and although was somewhat underage, I would feel shame to be the only kid at the table drinking sparkling cider. Allan said as little as possible, so I felt compelled to praise the food as much as I could. My anxiety made me nervous, and before I knew it, I had drunk a couple of healthy gulps of wine. I had had red wine before, but it was never this sweet, almost like grape juice.

Next on the menu was Julie's favorite, fried calamari. It was tender and delicious, not to mention easy to eat and more suited for a casual dinner. I passed it with a few more drinks of wine.

The main course was just a masterpiece. A tajine clay pot -which they proudly announced was from Morocco- filled to the top with an aromatic blend of vegetables and chicken, all over a mound of couscous. Aiden took pride in his cooking, and it was obvious he aimed to impress. I could smell the spices of the meal. My salivary glands were working overtime so I tried to calm them with the last of my wine. Bad idea.

I stood up. I could feel my face getting hot, and I stammered to say, "I, uh, I'll be right... back. I'm going to the powder room."

"Sure," said Julie, "Are you... ok?"

"Sure," I smiled and held on to the chair for balance.

"It's the first door on the wall below the stairs. If you need help..." Julie was interrupted.

"I'll go with her." Allan stood up. His voice was as serious as ever.

"No!" I exclaimed and covered my mouth to regulate my voice, "Just relax. I'm fine. I won't get lost. And if I do, I'll scream." I sounded like a complete airhead. So, I ran out as fast as I could, trying to keep my pace as straight as possible.

As I shut the door, I heard the phone ringing. It wasn't my house so it didn't bother me. I splashed my face with cold water until my lips began to feel numb. I patted my face dry, and looked around a bit. Everything was so sparkly clean and in order.

Perhaps the light was too bright in the restroom, but the dim light of the living room dazed me and I almost lost balance. To my surprise, something caught me and set me steady on my own feet. I opened my eyes and for a moment I hoped, and was mistaken. I had hoped Allan had followed me with concern, but it was Aiden who caught me. A staggered away. Sadly, a glass of wine had hit me like a ton of bricks and all I could worry about now was my breath.

"Th-thank you... Aiden." I muttered.

He seemed to comprehend my blurred speech, "Don't mention it."

As he took a step away, I reached for his sleeve. My mind was in the clouds, vacant. And in that mist an unspoken thought escaped my lips, "Wait, I have a question of you."

He seemed suddenly intrigued and amused by confidence, "OK, what is it?"

"Is... for you... was it that you can just fall for anyone they... choose? Could it... have been just anyone?"

He took a swift stride toward me and trapped my chin in his fingers. I regretted having asked that. Because for one, I had no idea why I had said it; and two, it made it seem like I wanted him. I wanted to bite off my own tongue, but his grip kept me still. Did I... really want him?

His face tentatively close to mine. His eyes searching for any hint of weakness in my expression. I could have fallen apart, as he hissed, "Perhaps I could. It could be anyone they tell us to. Would it make you happy if I said that?"

I tried to shake my head, "N-no..."

He smirked, "Good girl. At least you're not as fickle as I thought. We are not entirely bound to this. They search for us. It's a science now. She is the one I was destined to have. It couldn't have been just anyone. Now, if you'll excuse me."

As he spun and a walked away I decided. I did not want Aiden. He was Julie's and could only be hers. And I... I had no one. It could have been the alcohol acting as a natural depressant, but I wanted nothing anymore.

When I rejoined the dinner table, the atmosphere was dense. I managed to hear Julie tell Aiden, "So, did the supplier have everything you need for tomorrow?"

Aiden replied as lovely as he always did, as if his voice –the one I had heard seconds ago- could harm her. "Yes, you shouldn't be concerned. I told you we always have various suppliers available."

"I'm glad," she smiled.

I was fumbling back on my chair when Allan stood up and took me by the elbow, "You don't look so well. It'd be a shame if you got sick here and ruin their dinner. Let's just go home." His voice was a perfect imitation of Aiden's love-filled tone.

In my alcohol haze, I leaned against his chest, "OK, you're right. I'm tired."

"If you don't feel well, you can sleep here. We have more than enough space." Julie's concern pained me.

I feigned a smile, "I'll be fine. I need fresh air."

"Despite what you may think," Allan spoke and looked at them and wrapped his arm around me, "I won't let anything hurt Lea."

It amazed me. My heart, which felt like it had ceased to beat just minutes before was suddenly about to pound out of my chest. Was it right to be this happy? For the time being, yes it was.

I turned to Julie yet again. This time my smile was more sincere, "You look like a fairytale pixie, Julie. You gotta show me how to dress up like that someday."

She grinned as if a weight had been lifted off of her shoulders, "Oki-doki. We'll talk about it next time we have girl's lunch next week." I nodded. Then she turned to Allan. I rested against his chest, so I couldn't see his expression; but Julie's eyes looked troubled, "Allan... I really didn't mean to offend you. Thanks for taking care of Lea, I'm sure..."

Allan cut her off, "It was nothing. Could you get the door for us?"

We left the fairytale palace. And the pixie and her godlike companion were free to prance around basking in their love.

And I, I was cautiously happy. I was certain he had acted, but at that time the red wine made the lie all the sweeter. He drove slowly, and although I was grateful for that, I kept my eyes closed because the motion was beginning to rattle my intestines. Just as I thought I was going to heave, his cool hand pressed on my forehead. His hand felt like cold porcelain and I realized, "Oh! You're not wearing a sweater! It's so cold." I began to shrug out of my jacket.

"Don't worry about it. I'm... cold-blooded." I heard him chuckle lightly. And before I could argue, his cold forearm resting against the back of my neck felt like the only thing holding me from spilling out my half eaten dinner.

I didn't fight. I rested on his arm as my cool pillow and I asked, "Could it have been anyone other than me?"

I was almost positive that I was the only one that knew what I meant, but he surprised me. With the same kind voice, he replied, "Who knows... I'm beginning to think it couldn't..."

After that, I remember the car stopping. The doors opening and closing. The street a blur. All in a haze, and the sweet taste of the wine in my mouth beginning to sour, until I fell deeply asleep into a dreamless darkness.

Writer's comments: Sorry it took so long to post this -to my very few readers anyway. I will have chapter five in about two to three weeks because of school.

Preview:

A friendly and faintly familiar voice called my name over the phone. I was told it was urgent. I rushed to the 'Placement office' without hesitation. What I learned there would forever change my worldview...