I'm awoken by Jacob carefully manoeuvring me off of him and and exiting the bed, and when I look over to the clock it reads 11:54 pm. I squint in the direction of the door, where a distant light has been turned on. Unfortunately, as this room -or in better words suite- is so large, I can't make out the sounds that are coming from the hallway. I pull the sheet up to my neck, shielding my naked body both from the cold and from my subconscious which fantasies kidnappers and 'monsters'. I hear footsteps start to come back down the hallway, and I shrink further under the cover. "Jacob?" I say, my voice shaky and with zero conviction. There was no answer, and this time I yell slightly louder, "Jacob!" When he didn't respond, I run out of the bed and hide under his desk, sprinting like an olympic athlete across the many meters of floor. All of a sudden, something jumps into the doorframe and roars. It's just Jacob. Feeling stupid I glare at him, even though he probably can't see it, "Don't mess with me like that." I slide back into the bed and he runs up to me.
"How should I mess with you then?" He glides so that he's over the top of me. I something uncomfortable press against me in his sweats, it's small and hard?
"What's that?" I laugh and the bazaar feeling.
He turns on the bed-side lamp and the room lights with a warm glow. Then he pulls from his pocket a black velvet pouch, inside a brilliant lustre gold bang, looped like multiple conjoined infinity symbols, and in between each loop, is a repeated pattern of red diamonds and blue sapphires. "Happy birthday beautiful," he whispers.
"Jacob..." I stutter at a loss of words. I let my eyes roam freely over every detail so lovingly designed and included. Blue for what I imagine is to represent our intimacy and red...well I'm not quite sure? I raise my eyes to Jacob, who had that look in his eye, caught between pride and fear of rejection, looking like he's about to say how it was a stupid gesture and to soon, or it was really nothing at all. But before he can speak I raise my hands to his face, touching lightly, tilting his head up just a little. "It's amazing, best birthday gift ever."
"It's a promise ring. I have one two." He holds up his hand proudly. Sure enough on on his left hand middle finger is a simple black gold band.
"I think I get the blue sapphires, but why red?"
"It's a red diamond. Rarest in the word. Just like you, and engraved on the inside of the ring, it says..."
"Pour moi, il n'y a que toi. For me, there is only you. Jacob..." I slip the ring on my finger and dive towards him. "I love it-I love you-I-you make me so happy."
Tears prick my eyes. I launch myself at him, curling my arms through his neck and settling onto his lap. "It's such a thoughtful present. I love it. Thank you," I murmur against his ear. Oh he smells so good-clean, of fresh linen, body wash and Jacob. Like home, my home. My threatened tears begin to fall. He groans softly and enfolds me in his embrace. "I don't know what I'd do without you." My voice cracks as I try to hold back the overwhelming swell of emotion.
He swallows hard and tightens his hold on me, "Please don't cry?" He takes of his ring and shows me it, and sure enough it's engraved with that same sentence in French on his. Then he slips the ring back on his finger, "Aside from right then, this" he wriggles his finger, "is never coming off."
"I love you."
"I love you too." His voice is feather soft, and sweet like honey. I nuzzle into his neck and feel his throat vibrating when he says, "So anything planned for today."
"Two classes before 1 pm, then into the office for less than an hour, then finally I have a single shift which finishes at 5. After that I've told Becky she can do what she wants with me for the rest of the night, hence I have taken the liberty to cancel all shifts at work the following day and I am going to most likely miss class again, which is becoming an annoying habit."
"Am I coming to these mystery plans tonight?" He whispers lustfully into my ear.
"Girls night. Plus Spencer...and Felix."
He withdraws sharply and looks me in my eyes which I quickly avoid. "So he can come but not me? I'm your boyfriend."
"But you're also Becky's big brother. I don't think she wants you scolding her for drinking, A) at a bar, B) as a minor and C) she probably doesn't want to her best friend tongue fucking her brother."
"What the hell is tongue fucking!" he laughs.
"Oh, Spencer once saw us making out, and described it more as something that looked like we were trying to fuck each other with our mouths."
"Lovely," he says unimpressed. "You're twenty. You really shouldn't be drinking anyway."
"Oh please, I've drank with you before, when I was nineteen. Don't be naive thinking I wasn't drinking even before then. God knows you were."
"It's not that I don't trust yourself to drink appropriately, it's him I don't trust. Drinking leads to sex, which in OUR case is amazing. But if I'm not there, well...that might be a problem. No offence, but you're kind of a lightweight."
"Just becuase a person says 'no offence' doesn't mean the other persons not going to take offence. If you really want to go, ask Becky. But whatever she says goes, becuase I have to find a balance between my relationship with you and her, and that means not picking sides when it comes to the two of you."
"Fine, whatever."
"As for what you said before, you mentioned how I would like you to mess with me. Well I've made up my mind." He smirks at me and pulls the covers over the top of us.
--
I finish my simple breakfast of a bagel and cream cheese and go to the living room. After turning my phone on and opening social media for the first time in months, sure enough, there is many opinions. The photos which document the past 8 years of my life are stunning, the aesthetic bridal whites and some lovely spring green shades. I scroll back to the top, and spot the first comment, from a user named thirsty101.
Why her? They're just going to break-up within a month. It's not like the girl's hot enough to keep him. He'll get bored with her. Does she really think that someone who has been living the past 6 years of his life like a bachelor suddenly will give it up for one gold-digging whore.
The rest of the comments, and there are hundreds, are much uglier. It's like thirsty101 set the tone for everyone else. The consensus seems to be that I am not worthy of any of him because I don't fit the image of "wealthy" and "glamorous". One of them even wrote, "I heard she's screwing the entire family. First she screwed over her best friend, then she's manipulating the parents, apparently she got her first phone from them, and now, she's going for the big-bucks. Nothing but a parasite, you'll see.
Then one of them posts a meme with a manatee with my face photoshopped onto it. A wedding veil and flowers sit on my head. The caption reads Emmantee only has so many fish in the see...
The picture is hideous, the photoshop work clumsy and obviously done on the fly, but the effect still knocks the breath out of me. My face heats, and the area around my eyes prickles.
But Emmantee isn't the end of it. There are more memes, each nastier than the one before, as though people are trying to one-up each other on the thread. Many of them also reference my race, mocking my body because "who the hell would want to lay a 'black' chick?" Each comment comes with a "Report Abuse" button, but if I clicked all of them I'd give myself carpal tunnel.
Anger and resentment surge inside me like a tidal wave. My hands shake so hard, I have to curl them into fists. What have I done to deserve this kind of treatment? A tight knot lodges in my throat, and I breathe audibly through my mouth. I need to calm down before I start hyperventilating and throw up.
The rational side of me understands that these people don't matter. They don't know me, and their opinions are ignorant and mean. They'll move on when they find a new target. Really, I should feel sorry for them; they obviously don't have anything better to do with their own lives than try to pick apart other people's.
But that doesn't mean it hurts any less.
--
After receiving a very generous bonus from Mr Sommers as a birthday gift, and a pendant from Felix, I head up to Jacobs office before my shift at Starbucks. I notice that the receptionist is absent, but before I enter I halt at the door, hearing two people on the other side. Male and a female. The frosted glass is up so I can't see anything on the other side.
I somehow recognise that the other voice is Jacobs mother, "Is Emma all right?" she asks. I open the door ever so slightly to see inside.
Sinking deeper into the couch Jacob has a scotch in hand, sipping it. "As far as I know," he replies.
"Jacob, she's being tormented online."
"She doesn't read those things-at least she hasn't told me about it."
"Sweetheart, you are one of the smartest people I know, but you are somehow very stupid if you think a girl her age is not constantly wanting validation from social media. of course she's checking it."
"Is it that bad."
"Their preposterous. Slut shaming among other, worse things. I'm going to tell you something-not becuase I believe in it's righteousness, but becuase it is the unfair truth. When a woman has sex, she's a slut. And when a woman is labeled a slut, she's fair game."
Lilian isn't saying anything I didn't know. I've seen how female celebrities end up being a Public Target Number One, and I'm not even a celebrity, yet I still get scrutinised. "I had no idea it was that bad for her."
"She never complained?"
"She was upset a bit...A lot I guess." He squeezes his eyes shut. "I'm so stupid, I should have been checking up on her socials. Or addinged paul to manage hers like he does mine."
"Emma is a smart, sometimes stubborn girl, and I love her for it. But she's not one who is just going to roll over and let you micromanage her. You need to deal with this yourself, without involving other people." Lilian wisely says nothing for a moment, letting me stew in self-recrimination. "She's just being targeted more because she doesn't fit the image of a deserving woman."
Raising his head, he looks at her with fire in his eyes, "What the hell does that mean?"
"You know. The media. They're all saying how she's not model gorgeous, not from a rich or famous family, not a size zero, went to some fancy school on a scholarship, and doesn't have some kind of noble job."
"What the hell is a 'noble' job?"
"Like feeding children or advocating for abused women or whatever."
His face scrunches. I know that shallow, judgmental people piss him off, which Lilian is not, however, even when you don't want her to be, she is a realist. "First of all, Emma is gorgeous. It isn't my fault that people can't see that. And you don't have to be rich or famous or a size zero, or have an Ivy League diploma to be worthy. If that's the criteria, people should harass me." He has the looks, wealth, a rich family behind him, even the brains, but even I know that most people see him as heartless.
"But you're a guy."
"So?"
"So it's okay. The requirement is only for women."
"What the fuck?"
She shrugs. "Just how it is. Society is harsh on women. You should know that. And it isn't any easier on a woman who begets preconceptions of herself just for being a person of colour."
--
After my shift ends at five, Becky drags me off to her room, and dresses me up like her doll. "So what exactly are we doing tonight?" I ask her.
"That's for me to know and you to find out."
"Wow thanks for the info, and do I really have to look like a 5:00 am striper on a Wednesday?" Becky has placed me in a black leather boob tube, with a matching mini skirt that reaches 6 inches bellow my hips, with fishnet stockings and knee-high boots. My make up only further enhances the slutty look. A dark-smokey eye heavily lined in eyeliner and a dusty-red lip. When I look over to where a mirror use to hang, I notice it shattered into tiny pieces on the ground. "Woh, what happened over there?" I point to the broken wreckage.
"Oh, mirror broke."
"Technically a mirror can't break, only multiply."
"Technically you're being annoying right now." I laugh at her pathetic comeback, but now focus my mind to questioning her.
"So, who's coming tonight?"
"Spencer, Felix and myself." I let out a breath I hadn't realised I was holding, feeling slightly disheartened Jacob wouldn't be in attendance.
"What?" she huffs, reading me like an open book.
"Nothing! I'm sighing because you're burning my hair off with your curling iron."
I can tell she doesn't believe me, but finally, she turns the iron off and grabs two strands of hair from the front, tying them together at the back to create a half up-do. I have to admit, the hairstyle does appropriate the look slightly and I do feel very confident. We both wear coats over our outfits as we head over to the cab where we meet Spencer, who's rocking an oversized black T-shirt, blue denim jeans and eccentric eye make-up. "Hey birthday girl!"
"Hey Spence." I take my friend into a hug and he slightly fumbles at the impact of my embrace.
"I have a little B'day gift for you," he squeals and hands me an envelope.
I look inside and there is cash that would at least sum up to a thousand dollars. "Spence," I heave breathless, "I-you" Feeling at loss of enough words to describe my gratitude, I take him back into my hold. "Thank you."
The club is electric tonight, everyone feeding off of the smiles and fast dancing. I could go like this all night long, feet moving to the crazy beat like they belong to the music. I move in my dress like my hips were made to sway, the sequins catching the disco ball light that twirls above - launching a every shade of the rainbow into the darkness.
I'm clubbing like this is my last night on Earth, but I think that's just the way my mind avoids thinking about the hangover to come. The music moves me like I'm a puppet on strings, my head mashing so hard my brain is in shut down mode. There's so much sweat on my skin and not all of it's mine. The strobe masks so many of my movements, every clap of my hands like it's on pause at different moments. Tomorrow they'll be hell to pay but tonight the alcohol keeps on flowing in like it's on IV drip.
The music is a drug that brings me higher, higher until my mind buzzes with pure joy. I feel as if my soul will shine so bright my skin will start to glow, like my aura would become visible. But the night is so young, my limbs have so much energy I could dance for millennia and then some more.
No-one can see the dance floor, it's wall to wall people dancing to the club music. There's no room for any more but somehow when Candy and I hit it the space magically comes. The music is all nineteen nineties but we're dancing like it's jive, twisting, turning, holding hands as we change sides. We're all grins, we look like idiots and we don't care. Inside we're just happy, happy and more alive than we can ever be in school. I feel the part of me that's really me come out to play, to feel the vibe of the music and let my body go free. One moment, one brilliant feeling of togetherness suspended in time. In ten years I'll still remember tonight, I love the quiet life but I relish the crazy fun times. Music, friends, good times, dance.
Becky and I nursed two glasses of vodka, and chugged it as though it was water, and I'm sure at one point, I began to actually chase my vodka with vodka. We were seated at a corner booth that was elevated by 4 or so steps down from the dance floor. The floor itself was probably 50x30 metres and along one of the sides, stretched an endless bar. The platform our booth was on, circled the entire room, ascending at both sides of the bar. On one side of the club, there was a wide hallway leading the bathrooms, and next to it was a staircase leading to a rooftop, and balcony booths. Two guys come over towards Becky and I, devilish desire and intention burn in their eyes, it's a look I'm quite familiar with when Jacob and I are together. "Okay if we join you?" the taller one asked.
I glanced at Becky, and then back at the guys. They looked like brothers and they were very attractive. Both were smiling and confident, their stances loose and easy. I was about to say, 'Sure', when a warm hand settled on my bare shoulder and squeezed firmly. "This one's taken."
Across from me, Becky gaped as Jacob rounded the sofa and, sitting next to me, his arm draped behind me so that his fingertips could brush casually and possessively up and down my arm.
"Big brother," she slurs, giving him a two fingered salut.
"The bouncers at the front told me that you've been name dropping."
"All I said was that my brother owned the club and he was waiting inside to take me home."
"Yes, they mentioned that and said that and that's why they didn't checked you're ID."
"Well, then you need to hire better security."
"You threatened to have them fired if they didn't let you in. As if I would do it."
"Maybe not if I asked you, but Em's got you by the balls."
Though I hear my name being dragged into the conversation, my mind already feels like its brewing with soda. I nuzzle my nose into his neck and say, "Sorry."
He gives me a peck on the lips and holds me even firmer around the waist, "Baby, shh, not now. How much has she had to drink?"
"Why don't you ask you're spies? Please, I've seen the way they discretely would remove guys who would even get near Emma."
Twisting at the waist, I faced him and whispered fiercely, "Why did you do that. What are you doing?"
He shot me a hard glance. "Whatever it takes."
"Whatever, I'm going to dance." Becky stood with a mischievous grin. "Be back in a bit." Ignoring my pleading glance, my best friend blew me a kiss and the guys followed her. I watched them all go, my heart racing. After another minute, ignoring Jacob became ridiculous, as well as impossible. My gaze slid over him. He wore back jeans, a black V-neck sweater, and the typical sunglasses and hat to cover his identity. The sunglasses however, he had now removed and placed them at the table. The overall effect being one of careless sophistication. I loved the look on him and was attracted to the softness it gave him, even though I knew it was only an illusion. He was a hard man in a lot of ways.
"You look..." I paused. Fantastic. Wonderful. Amazing. So damn sexy...In the end, I went with the lame, "I like the way you look."
His brow arched. "Ah, something you like about me. Is that a general like of the overall package? Or just the clothes? Only the sweater? Or maybe it's the pants?"
The edge to his tone rubbed me the wrong way. "And if I say it's just the sweater?"
"I'll buy a dozen and wear them every damn day."
"That would be a shame."
"You don't like the sweater?" He was pissy, his words coming clipped and fast.
My hands flexed restlessly in my lap. "I love the sweater, but I also like the suits."
He brushed the backs of his fingers over my cheek and murmured, "You're blushing."
I heard the amusement in his voice and swiftly changed topics. "Do you come here often?" Shit. Where did that clichéd line come from?
His hand dropped to my lap and caught one of mine, his fingers curling into my palm. "When necessary."
A quick stab of jealousy made me stiffen. I glared at him, even though I was mad at myself for caring either way. "What does that mean? When you're on the prowl?"
Jacob's mouth curved into a genuine smile that hit me hard. "When expensive decisions need to be made. I own this club, Emma. And how do you manage to bring up my past with women in nearly every conversation?"
He was right. For some reason I kept trying to create issues between us. He kissed me. He moved in fast, but I saw it coming and didn't turn away. His mouth was cold and flavoured with alcohol. Delicious. All the chaotic emotion and energy that had been writhing around inside me abruptly became too much to contain. I shoved a hand in his glorious hair and clenched it tight, holding him still as I sucked on his tongue. His groan was the most erotic sound I'd ever heard, making the flesh between my legs tighten viciously. Shocked by the fury of my reaction, I wrenched away, gasping.
Jacob followed, nuzzling the side of my face, his lips brushing over my ear. He was breathing hard, too, and the sound of the ice in his tumbler clinking against the glass skittered across my inflamed senses. "I need to be inside you, Emma," he whispered roughly. "I'm aching for you."
His tongue traced the shell of my ear and I shivered. It felt like every cell in my body was straining toward his. Resisting him took an impossible amount of energy, draining me and making me feel tired.
"How did you know?"
"Know what?"
"That I was here?"
"I didn't," he replies still placing a row of kisses down my neck.
He inhaled deeply, and then I pulled away. "Don't lie to me." Setting my drink down, after tasting it, he shifted on the sofa and drew a knee up onto the cushion between us so that he faced me directly. His arm once again draped over the sofa back, his fingertips drawing circles on the curve of my shoulder. "Becky's credit card popped up, and prior to tonight beginning I asked managers to keep an eye out for her name." I gave him a confused look. Out of all the clubs how did he know we'd go to one of his. As if understanding what I was thinking he replies, "My sisters reckless, but she isn't stupid. If she got caught underage drinking here, she knows she's untouchable, unlike anywhere else. Also, she managed to get in here using my name rather than waiting in the line. And while my sister is kind, she is not patient."
"So what? Did you think coming here and trying the 'I want to fuck you' approach would get you laid. Has it worked before on all you're other women?"
Jacob's face smoothed into unreadable impassivity. "I'm not touching that one, Emma."
"Okay. You want to figure out what it's going to take to get me into bed. Is that why you're here in this club right now? Because of me? And don't say what you think I want to hear."
His gaze was clear and steady. "I'm here for you, yes. I arranged it."
"Did you figure that coming here would get you laid?"
His mouth twitched with suppressed amusement. "There's always the hope, but I expected it would take more work than just showing up."
"You're right. So why do it? Why not wait until tomorrow when I see you?"
"Because you're out trolling, and I need to stop you from picking up some asshole in a bar. You want to score Emma? I'm right here. Plus," he got close to my ear I could feel his warm breath tingling against my skin, "I'm not afraid to admit that when it comes to you, I'm a satyriasis."
I shiver and mount his lap, pushing my tongue into his mouth. I was sloppy and slightly disoriented from the shit-ton of alcohol in me that it took me a little while to find our rhythm. I rocked slightly on him, where it could have just looked as though I was deepening the kiss. His hands slid around to my lower back, pushing me into him, and my hands went to the back of his head so I could defile his hair.
A coughing sound comes from behind me and I recognise it as Becky, I try to scramble of his lap, but the only distance he was allowing was breaking the kiss. "Can I help you sis?" He said pissed. I turn my head and see Spencer making sexual licks with his tongue egging me on, and Felix staring at me slightly upset and uncomfortable. With a hint of very subtle anger.
"Yes. I need Emma, we're off to our next location and you're not invited."
Jacob pouts his lip mockingly. "Dam, I was really looking forward to your amateur attempt at bar hopping."
"You're right, because we're not chasing the night over 6 different states to extend the party and not spending close to a 5 million on travel, booze and hookers. I guess you're just too professional." I dismount his lap at the mention of hookers. Of course I knew that he's had a colourful past but it still hurts to hear about it.
"Emma," Jacob shuts his eyes in regret.
"Sorry," Becky mutters. I walk over to her, and she slings her arm over my shoulders. I'm determined not to let this ruin the already amazing time this has been.
"Ready?" I ask her. She nods and we go, leaving Jacob behind. Once we exit the club, I ask her, "Where are we going?"
"Well...until that little scene back there I had planned on going back to my brothers, but now I'm either thinking, we find another club or go find a frat."
"I don't mind really. Let's just stick with you're plans."
"Really? Are you sure?"
"Absolutely. Plus Spencer seems to have drank the bar dry back there, and I noticed you and Felix were just hitting it off back there." She flushes and bows her head embarrassed. "Oh My God! You like him back!"
"Shhh."