Part Two, Chapter 10: Rest
rest 1 rest rɛst rɛst
verb [ intrans.
cease work or movement in order to relax, refresh oneself, or recover strength
-
This girl only sleeps with butterflies.
-"Sleeps With Butterflies" by Tori Amos
"Kathryn, are you sure about this?"
"About what?" I ask Elle, annoyed. She continues reading the documents innocently, frowning once in a while to run her finger over a particular sentence as though to reread it. "Of course I'm fucking sure about it, why wouldn't I be sure about marrying Derrick? Besides, it's not like we're getting married tomorrow. I mean, we never even talked about—"
Today her eyes are an even mixture of blue-gray, but her smile tipped the scale to the latter shade. She points at the document she was reading. "Actually, I was asking you if you were sure that this is the account you wanted me to personally attend to. But thank you for the added information, not that it was asked for in the first place."
"Oh." I pick up my pen, feeling like a moron. "Yes, that's it. Logan Dermot, right? He's supposed to be a hardass."
"No problem." She shrugs, closing the folder. There's a knock on my office door and we both look up at the interruption. A blonde with hair the color of snot when a person is sick (I know that's such a graphic and unappealing way to describe such a thing but aesthetically, she is rather mousy) comes in, carrying a pile of folders. Her name comes easily to me. Melanie Foster. Well, F something. I might have stored that information in the area of my brain where everything is of no importance to me.
"Ms. Merteuil," she beams, looking every inch of the newly graduated student attempting to look professional and yet because of the lack of money, only succeeds in making herself look like a pathetic wannabe. She probably snatches discount clothing with a designer tag without checking if it looks stupid just so she can say she's wearing branded clothes. "I've just gone over the figures with Accounting downstairs and it looks like the budget for the Louis Vuitton campaign has been increased."
I fake a smile, looking pleased. "Thank you, Melanie. I'm glad you've been working hard, in fact, I'm sure that at this rate, you'll be running your own agency years from now."
Her ears turn red. Elle hides a grin behind her hand, having recognized my phony tone. "Thank you. Gosh, Ms. Merteuil, that's nice of you to say."
"Mhmm." Elle drawls. "Golly gee willikers, Kathryn. That is mighty nice of you."
I glare at her.
Melanie looks like she's about to start jumping up and down, her rapid fire speech often makes me question whether or not she's on a constant stream of speed. Her pasty arms clutch the folder tighter, a ghastly yellow against the drab gray business attire she wore. What was that? Calvin Klein from the 90s?
"Yes, it really is." Her large head bobs up and down. Quack little blonde hick duck; are you by any chance a lesser attractive version of Kansas? "I mean, I really admire you, Ms. Merteuil. And you, too, Ms. Fox."
"I'm sure." Elle drips syrup, sweet to inhale but poisonous to taste.
"Think nothing of it." I remark generously. "One day, I'm certain you're going to be where I am."
"Gosh!" Melanie giggles, shyly shuffling her feet. "Thanks again! Well, I better go. I just wanted to deliver these to you, I ran into Toby from Accounting and I thought I'd give these to you myself!"
Where's the basket of homemade cookies that came with that Southern girl twang? I half expected a singing telegram the moment I opened the folder.
"Peachy." Elle cuts in, clearing her throat. Her cordial expression turns into something else that makes Melanie step away and leave. As soon as the door closes, Elle picks up the folder and wrinkles her nose. "She went all Legally Blonde on you. The entire thing smells like her sickening designer reject perfume. Anyway, what the fuck was that about? Is she your new best friend? Will you tell me that you're planning to wear plaid and overalls, put your hair in braids, and plant something with that loser?"
"Relax, I was just being nice."
She looks like she just swallowed something disgusting. "Nice? You? Please. That's not being nice. You're just sugarcoating too much crap on that girl."
"So? It gives me a good reputation. Everyone adores me."
"Kathryn, people like Melanie Foster have to face the sad reality that they're just never going to get anywhere no matter what they do. Someone's bound to tell her the truth soon, so why not save her from living a lie and tell her how incompetent she is and how the mere sight of her makes you sick? What the hell is with that shit about her running her own agency? Sure. She can run one… within the boundaries of her imagination."
Her bluntness makes me laugh, and sooner or later she also cracks a smile. "You know what's wrong with you? You're too nice these days. Is it that rock on your finger that's gotten you all endearing and sweet?"
"Oh, go fuck yourself."
"Well, it's true you know. The woman I used to know did the most despicable, underhanded, and totally amusing things. Go on, you know you want to. Call her back and help the poor girl's delusion come to an end."
I stare at her dead on. "That's a challenge?"
"Take it the way you want to." Elle leans back, smiling mockingly.
"Fine." I press the button, asking my secretary to call Melanie in.
She does return, positively glowing. "Hello again, Ms. Merteuil—"
"Melanie, you're fired."
Her smile freezes. Her eyes dart wildly around the room, as though expecting Ashton Kutcher to jump out and tell her she was punk'd. That was the show's name, right? Blaine used to watch it a lot and he wouldn't stop telling me about it until I threatened to tell everybody that we had fucked. Oh, please darling mousy blonde. As if you were that important.
Elle watches her in rapt interest the way one would watch a television show. Or the way a scientist would observe a rat he had just injected with something poisonous. Perhaps that would be a better analogy for her.
"Um… what?"
"As my friend very well pointed out, it would cruel to further lead you on. The only reason why you're getting paid near to nothing was actually because that's all you deserve. While you may have your moments of marginal intelligence, I'm afraid that perhaps you're here because you're the source of amusement in the office with your poor taste in fashion and obvious eagerness to kiss my ass. Well, there's also the fact that I saw your boyfriend after I interviewed you."
'Mmm I remember him." Elle comments wistfully. "How on earth did you manage to get that very attractive man?" She raises her eyebrows, smiling conspiratorially. "Did you pay him?"
"Wha-huh?"
"Maybe you should add a little twang, Kathryn." That dark haired bitch named Elle suggests, watching closer upon realizing that Melanie's cheeks had started to quiver. "She might understand better."
"I don't do twangs." I wince haughtily. "Anyway, I just wanted to fuck your boyfriend so I decided to hire you. Plus the thought of sneaking around like that sounded like fun and since I sensed your desperation, I figured why not? You'd get a salary that's next to nothing and you'd like it. Plus, I got to screw Johnny while you were off getting me a cup of coffee. Why do you think I asked you to go to a Starbucks outlet an entire world away from the office?"
"You… you…" Melanie's eyes start to tear.
Elle turns to me. "Oh, you fucked him too? So did I. How many times?"
"You both what!" The blob of pasty jelly screeches shrilly.
"Twice." I shrug. "It was over a year ago though, and he started getting clingy."
"Hey, me too."
"You were with Derrick then."
"Why do you think we broke up?" Elle's eyes are grayer than ever, a succubus that preys on the misery of hopeless losers.
"You fucking whore, he fucked us both at the same time?" I tell her in mock anger.
"Oh, don't worry. I made him wash before he touched me."
"M-Ms. Merteuil, please…"
"Oh, you're still here." I glance at my most recent ex employee, feeling that strange surge of power come over me like an old friend I had missed dearly.
"You can't do this to me!" Melanie wails, clutching the fabric of her skirt. "You can't get away with this!"
"Actually, she can. Johnny actually showed me a video he had of you playing a very 'innocent' cheerleader. I suppose I liked your acting so much that I decided to get a copy of it." Elle bites her lower lip, relishing the kill. My sociopath friend. "You know, Kathryn once commented that you were a woman of depth… I immediately questioned her judgment, because to me you're about as deep as a puddle of water but upon witnessing how you stuck that baton up your… well, you know… I think Kathryn was right. You, Melanie dear," She whispers teasingly. "are indeed a woman of… depth."
By now all the blood is gone from her face. And then there it was again… that feeling. That superior, wonderful feeling that I'm holding on to her sanity and I can choose to clench my fists until she screamed in agony. I glance at Elle, who returns my gaze as though she knows what I am feeling.
Do it. Her gaze was hypnotic, almost seductive. I get a visual of her with her nails digging against Melanie's skin, waiting for me. Do it, Kathryn. You know you want it. Isn't it about time you stopped being nice?
Melanie's crying now. Pathetic twit, sobbing as though it would help. She reminds me of Cecile. A blonde Cecile. Cecile Caldwell. I remember her well, I remember that day well for two reasons. First of which is that the day of Cecile's downfall was the day Conner came back. The second reason is the pleasure I had derived from that experience. Mm. One never forgets such things, as Sebastian had mentioned.
"Leave my office now and if you even think of bringing this to court, let me assure I can do more damage to you than that disgusting, kinky video. I can file a countersuit for your embezzlement, among other grievances I might happen to find." I smile complacently.
Melanie visibly slumps. An ugly miserable dwarf in front of two giants who had the ability to step on her and not feel a thing when she dies. "But…why?" She asks, stricken. "What did I ever do to you?"
"Oh, don't blame yourself. It was me." I reply easily. "It's only now that I'm reminded of the immense thrill from all this."
"You bitch." Melanie blubbers, wiping the snot from her nose. "You're a psycho!"
"Hmm… not really. That would be her." I gesture towards Elle, who grins at Melanie. "I really would just prefer the term bitch if you don't mind." I give her a clearly forced smile. "Now, you've wasted enough of my time, already. Please leave."
She does, mumbling threats I knew she could never go through with because beneath the layers of flab and the gross taste in clothing, she's weak. People like her had no right to take part in this agency. Weak blonde hicks did not deserve my time then, and they certainly did not deserve my time now.
"You see?" Elle speaks up. "Wasn't that nice?"
"Surprisingly, yes. Thank you. I needed that."
---
"Hey, it's Conner. Please leave a message and I'll return your call as soon as I can. Thanks. (The rest of the message is in Spanish, presumably to address his non English-speaking friends and family).
Beep.
"Conner, this is the third message I've left. It's Kathryn, by the way, in case you've forgotten. (Sarcastic and annoyed) Do you have any idea how big of a deal this is? I usually get a call after my first message." A succumbing sigh upon realizing that Conner is not going to pick up. "Where have you been? Sorry I sound like a needy girlfriend but I miss you." Silence. "Call me back."
Click.
---
"You've reached my voicemail. I'm not available right now, but leave a message, along with your name and number, and I'll call you back."
"Kathryn?" Sebastian's voice is recognizable. "Are you avoiding me?"
Click.
---
"Ms. Merteuil, Mr. Conner Valmont on line 3 for you."
I snatch the phone. "Hello?"
"I knew it." The deep voice adjusts. Becomes cocky. "So you are avoiding my calls."
"Sebastian?"
"Oh, great. You still remember my name."
"Fuck off."
"You can't marry him."
"Excuse me?"
"You can't marry him. Marry Conner if you want to get hitched, for fucking sake."
"Conner's already married."
"So you've considered it?" He presses like a fucking eager tabloid reporter.
"I'm hanging up now."
"Why didn't you and Conner hook up? I've always thought you would."
What was it about these stupid Valmonts? Conner thinks the same thing about me and this blond cocky bastard. Now this blond cocky bastard apparently thinks the same thing, with a slight change in the male character. Make up your mind, assholes. Do you want me or not? I'm not going to be around for long.
"We did. We fucked after you left. In fact, the moment I realized you were gone, I immediately jumped into bed with him."
He doesn't reply.
"Well, that's what you want me say so I'm just giving it to you. Are we done now? I have work to do."
"If you'd just let me finish, Conner and I would like to talk to you."
Well that certainly gets my attention. They've actually been talking? "You and Conner… meaning at the same time?" I ask, surprised.
"Yes, Kathryn. At the same time. Are you free for dinner tonight?"
"Why?"
"Just be there, okay?" He tells me the name of the restaurant. "Do you need me to pick you up?"
"Do I look like I don't have any other means of transportation?" I retort bitingly. "Wait. Ask Conner to pick me up."
"Oh, so if it's Conner it's okay." Sebastian mutters sullenly. "But if I offer, you'd just tell me that you don't need me."
"Stop being such a jealous fag, Sebastian. You have to get over yourself and accept the fact that your cousin's important to me in ways your horny little mind can't comprehend."
"And I'm not?"
"You, dear brother, are a fucking ailment that refuses to leave my body."
"So you admit I'm still in there somewhere…"
"Just please tell Conner, okay?"
"I'm not your fucking assistant." He answers, sounding bitter. "Tell him yourself."
"Please, Seb?" I lower my voice so it sounds sincere. "Please?"
He's quiet for a while.
"You owe me." I remind him.
He sighs. "You're always going to throw that in my face, aren't you?"
"Always and forever." I chirp mockingly.
---
Later that night, I open the door to find Conner standing there. He has this solemn expression that makes me nervous, and as usual, he's dressed perfectly. All manners and charm, blue blooded Conner. For a while we just stand there awkwardly. I clutch my purse. He looks at his shoes.
"I'm sorry." He finally talks, his eyes peering into mine. "For what it's worth, I missed you too."
I nod and tiptoe so I could reach his mouth for a kiss. Feeling slightly foolish, I wrap my arms around him and he laughs a little. He kisses the top of my head. Sebastian is not really my brother, Conner is.
"Come on, princess." I feel his arm resting on my back as he gently coaxes me to extricate myself from him. "We'll be late."
---
I admit it. They both look handsome and I can almost feel how all the other women in the room keep staring at them. Dark and light, yin and yang. Black and blond curls, dark and light blue eyes.
"I'll cut straight to the point." Sebastian clears his throat, picking up his wine glass. "We both agreed that it would not be in your best interest to marry Saxton."
His words take a while to sink in. They what? They were like a gay couple that had a teenage daughter dating a guy they didn't want. I glance at Conner and while his mouth quirks up in a smile (as though sharing my thoughts), his eyes tell me that he shared the same sentiment.
"Excuse me?" I laugh openly. "Are you kidding me?"
"Kate, Derrick's a nice guy but I just don't want you rushing something like this." Conner answers before Sebastian opens his mouth, probably knowing that he would have retaliated with an insult.
"Conner, you know I love you but you're not the best person to talk to me about getting married. You're not exactly getting the award for Groom of the Year, having slept with me during your engagement."
Sebastian chuckles but he suddenly quiets down when I glare at him.
"And you," I snap. "like I told you, you have no right in meddling with my life like this. If I wanted to marry him, I would. You screwed me over, I should have killed you by now."
"This isn't about us!" He argues, showing impatience. "Not us," he indicates himself, and then me "Or us!" he motions at the three of us. "You told me you didn't want to end up like Tiffany, but take a fucking look in the mirror."
"I'm not marrying him for his fucking money." I'm imagining the steak knife impaling him by now. "I'm self sufficient, you asshole. Don't ever compare me to her!"
"Kathryn…" Conner interrupts, placing his hand on his forehead as though he suddenly had a headache.
"I can't believe you let him talk you into doing this. You know Derrick. He's a good man, Conner. He's your fucking friend and you're stabbing him in the back. Unbelievable."
"I'm not letting Sebastian talk me into anything." Conner answers, his voice dropping several degrees. Cold Conner. "I'm capable of forming my own opinions and I'm not like one of your former moron boyfriends, Kate. Nobody manipulates me and it's insulting for you to say that."
Sebastian looks astonished at his hard-edged tone. He isn't the only one. I even cringe.
Conner's face softens. "I'm sorry." He says. "I've been through a lot lately… I'm just saying that I don't think it's a good idea, that's all."
"What would you have me do?" I ask him in contempt. "Pick one of you? Marry one of your cousins? Keep it all in the fucking family?"
"Don't take this out on us." Sebastian answers for Conner. I guess it's his turn now. Did they practice this routine or something? "That's what we're saying."
"Oh my god." I gape at them in amazement. "You know, this is one of those very rare instances wherein I see the reason why you're related. This is not about the three of us, I can't believe you're both so thickheaded to actually agree that this was the case."
"He doesn't know you." Conner looks at me. "You can't possibly want to commit yourself to someone who has no fucking idea who you are."
"And at the same time, I don't want to commit myself to someone who does." Hah. They both wince this time around. "If you insist on talking about this, I'm going to leave."
"Wait." Sebastian holds up his hand in a gesture of surrender. "You know we both—"
"Let me guess," I cut in, sneering. "You both love me?"
"Kathryn, please try to think about it. I don't want you doing something you're going to regret." Conner tells me.
"I've already done someone that I regret." I reply, my tone sweet yet filled with malice.
"See? I told you that you should've talked to her alone. She hates me." Sebastian shrugs, resuming his meal.
"I don't hate you." I roll my eyes. "Don't be so melodramatic. I'm just annoyed at you for ditching me the other night."
"The play?"
"Yes."
"Well, you must have had a grand time with your fiancé."
"It's not that. It's just… well, forget it."
"No, you were going to tell me something." Sebastian presses me. His blue eyed questioning look makes me smile. How he could switch from arrogant jackass one minute to someone whom you could actually have a decent conversation with still manages to amaze me from time to time.
"Derrick's not exactly a fan of the arts."
"Oh." Sebastian nods before grinning sheepishly. "Sorry. I just thought you would have liked to go with him instead. You seemed to be happy during lunch that I figured it'd be better."
"And I tried calling you to see if you'd go with me." I remark, pointedly glancing at Conner.
He mirrors Sebastian's smile. The gay waiter who had been ogling him nudges his co-worker and they duck into the privacy of the kitchen to giggle. "I told you, I had things to attend to."
"Which is why you've been ignoring me?"
He stops grinning. He and Sebastian exchange a look that I did not like. My stomach drops.
"Conner?" I call his attention, letting him know I was waiting for an explanation.
"I'm leaving." He licks his lips, before nibbling on his upper lip.
"Oh. Business thing?"
He shakes his head. "Alana."
The wife. He rarely talks about her, but the moment he says her name, I know that it's something bad.
"She's pregnant, Kathryn." His eyes plead with me, trying to get me to understand. "I found out the day after you got engaged."
"I don't think I understand what you're saying…" My mouth feels like it belongs to someone else. Like my tongue is swollen and heavy and foreign. "I mean, she can have the baby here. Besides, you still have to work here, right? With Sebastian and Derrick?"
"We've worked it out, they can handle things without me for a while. We're going to Barcelona to raise the baby there. I don't want for it to grow up here."
"Exactly how long is 'a while'?"
He remains quiet.
"Conner, you can't do this to me."
"You're fine now. You don't need my constant presence anymore, right?" He jokes weakly, his long lashes moving as he blinks.
"Yes, I do. You know I do."
Sebastian frowns.
"I'm sorry." Conner tells me quietly. "You're getting married and I'm having a kid. Things were bound to change sometime."
I place my fork down. Conner just stares at his food. Sebastian glances at the two of us before letting out a breath. He also places his utensils down and leaves his half finished steak alone. He loosens his tie and raises a hand to call the waitress. The infatuated bitch can't meet his eyes while he asks for the bill.
"You know, if you were like this throughout the course of your relationship—whatever the hell that is—then I have the impression that I would have slit my wrist if I actually witnessed every moment you both had together." Sebastian signs his name without looking at the actual price. "My treat, I'm sure you're both about as cheerful as a Goth chick."
"Thanks."
"No problem, cousin." He answers easily. "Okay, I'm getting really tired of this. Let's just lay it out and get rid of the huge elephant that's been sitting on the three of us for years. I fucked Kathryn, and you did as well. Clearly we both felt something for her, but I did a shitty thing and I left her. From that point, I don't know what happened. Now, she's engaged and we don't like it, but if you," He turns to me. "think that we're just being egotistical assholes and that this is the right decision, then Conner and I will just have to deal with it. It's all fucking tragic, full of conflict, and quite tiring. The point is, we need a break. Let's go out tonight."
"You… want to go clubbing?" I question him dubiously. "Seriously?"
"We're not going clubbing. There's a party for some magazine. What was it? Vogue? Elle? Something like that, anyway, we could go."
"Are you kidding? Do you honestly think I feel like partying?"
"Actually," Conner speaks. "I think I have an idea where we could go."
---
Let me return to my earlier method of telling you this part of my life. You're in the movies now, welcome back.
It opens, or rather ends, since this is the last scene, like this.
The sky looks bleak with the sadness of the cold night. We are standing on top of everything else, and everything else is beneath us. I sound redundant, but it also feels that way on a more figurative level. The topmost floor of Conner's hotel had been used for some sort of lavish function. Perhaps a wedding? I didn't know. By now, the place was deserted and there were only the empty tables, chairs, and the empty stage as a reminder than people had once been there. It is so high up that the height drowns out the usual noise of the city.
Conner places a bottle of red wine on the table, along with three glasses. Sebastian's leaning over the railing, immersed with the view. I'm seated near Conner. The temperature makes me shiver and he pauses from his task of removing the cork so he can remove his jacket to drape over my shoulders.
"This is nice." Sebastian calls out, his back still to us.
Conner kisses my cheek. At least, it felt like a kiss. It was so soft that it felt like he never even touched me. After making sure that I was okay, he removes the cork easily and pours wine into the glasses. The thought of his impending departure worries me, because it's Conner and I've had him for the past six years. It's difficult to suddenly not have him around. The wind tousles his hair. The moon makes him glow. Vampire Conner. My Conner.
He gives me a smile. Slow, beautiful. My savior. The European version of Prince Charming, as Sebastian said. His younger, blond haired blue eyed version joins us, sitting beside me as though we had been doing this for a long time. They both feel familiar next to me, not just because I've slept with them, but because I knew them more intimately than Selena and Alana would ever know them.
I'd spare you the discussions we've had that night simply because they ranged from anecdotes to amusing memories we've had as children or as teenagers. We talked and drank and talked some more, because the alcohol emboldened us and the night wrapped its arms around the three of us like we were old friends. Conner was going to leave 'for a while' and I wanted him to come back. Sebastian didn't talk about Selena and I didn't talk about Derrick, Conner never mentioned his wife or his baby for the rest of the night. They retold stories of their conquests while I remained nostalgic about my own tendencies to ruin lives simply because they got in the way of my social standing. There was touching. I hugged Conner, liking the hard, cold marble body. Sebastian placed an arm around my shoulders as he leaned to whisper a secret, a joke, about how one time he saw his Aunt Helen catch Conner diddling the hot maid and how Conner had turned bright red and fumbled for an excuse (Conner was sixteen, Sebastian was ten). His murmured laughter warmed me as he continued, saying that after that, Aunt Helen had spoken to him to warn him about sex, and how it should be done only when you're married.
It went on like that. Cue the music. We would look great onscreen. Young, successful, and good-looking. Smiling. Close. Talking. Intimate murmurs of old friends who left whatever baggage they had behind. We'll get it later. We'll be angry again, or vindictive, or both. You would think we're fascinating, leading a life like this. Acting the way we do. You'll find the tension interesting, all these intertwining strings that connected us all. In all likelihood, there's going to be angst. That frustration with something that should happen but wouldn't, or something that could happen but shouldn't. I don't know. Pick one. Pick all of them. They're all going to happen. In fact, they're all happening right now, it just depends on how you see it.
Goodnight.
A/N: This has been said so many times that you're all going to get sick of it but: Thanks. Seriously. Still with me on this train ride that's lasted for soooo long? Hahaha. As much as I'd like to reply to each review, I'm afraid I'm tired and I think that there are some messages I might have already answered, whether it's my big THANK YOU or something else.
Just a shout out:
littlegrouse: Wow. That's one of the longest reviews I've gotten. I don't mind that you talk a lot when you review, it's actually quite nice to read. I'm sorry for deleting Things Unsaid, it just annoyed me too much. I've been deleting a couple of stories these days. Thank you, I'm quite proud of my characters. Oddly enough, this isn't 'the' story for me. I'd say An Unlikely Story still has the top spot, along with The Aftermath and The Game. :) Oh, and for the record: I always don't know what happens next. Haha
Skyz: I'm stuck with a 1st person POV so as much as I'd like to create a scene that has them talking about her, I'm going to have to leave it up to the reader's mind since this POV limits me to K alone. :) I've been lucky to have Seb's notebook though, it gives me a chance to mix things up once in a while with his POV.