Six Degrees
Chapter two
By: Crystal Rose
Edited by: ladysolo
Suspense/Drama
R
Author's note: A big thank-you lick for my editor/finger-puppet, ladysolo, for telling me that the original version was too bland for her taste. That bit of criticism resulted in an extra two and a half pages for all. LS will accept personal cheques, but only if they're made out to me. Otherwise, you can show her your love by reading her new chapter of Merletto II: The Vendetta (which I am, in turn, editing) and leaving glowing reviews at the door.
Also, thanks to the readers for the lovely reviews (keep them coming!), especially to those who took the time to personally write me a longish note to give me some advice on how to proceed. You know who you guys are.
Some of you will be glad to know that the chapters won't be anywhere near as long as Wounded Souls' was—but there will be many. I've got to warn you now that this in story, while Serena-Darien centred, will not always have chapters devoted to them, so be patient. ^^;;;
Standard disclaimers apply.
***
Candles burned low in their holders, casting a flickering glow on the walls; an empty bottle of wine and two equally empty glasses sat on top of the dresser; scattered clothing created a path from the door to the bed. And in the midst of this organized chaos were a man and a woman, naked, basking in the afterglow of making love, their tired, sweaty bodies boneless and tangled up in the satin sheets.
Lita Noble stared at the ceiling fan, a lazy smile on her face. She reached over and gave her bed companion a congratulatory pat on the abdomen. "That was good, Nate. No, check that. It was great."
Nathan Cutter chuckled, the muscles of his abdomen rippling which, in Lita's opinion, was almost as hypnotizing as the whirring ceiling fan blades overhead. "Some of my best work, eh?"
Lita poked a finger in his side and swung a leg over his. "Now don't get cocky," she warned playfully. She raised her eyebrow when she felt a stirring against her leg. "You know that's not what I meant."
Nathan pulled her closer and planted a kiss on her forehead. "Talk about a Freudian slip," he said, caressing her breast and making Lita shiver.
"Again? Oh honey, I'd love to but we don't have time," Lita said regretfully. She cuddled into his side. "I have to get back to the restaurant soon."
They lay together in silence, wanting to forget about their real lives and just cocoon themselves away in the cozy bedroom. At length, Lita sighed happily and buried her face into the crook of his neck. "I love this. No work, no responsibilities, just us. I want it to stay like this forever."
Nathan said nothing, preferring to agree with touch rather than words. They had been meeting like this in his apartment, in his bed, for almost one year. Pockets of pleasure-filled time were all they could afford with their separate lives and hectic schedules but they were thankful for every minute. He glanced at the digital clock and sighed; their time was almost running out.
Lita heard him and followed his gaze to the clock, then mimicked his sigh. Sometimes ending their time together was harder than spending time apart. Not wanting to put off the inevitable, she reluctantly slipped out of bed and began to gather her clothing. Nathan stayed in bed, watching her naked form bending over to pick up a lacy panty peeking out from behind the armchair, an appreciative smile on his face as he watched her struggling to reach the wayward garment. Lita had one fine ass. Must be all that Tae-Bo she did.
Finally, he too got up and stretched before putting on his boxer briefs. He helped Lita find a missing sock, which she found inconveniently located in the trashcan. She plucked it out gingerly and dusted it off. "Hey, what's this?" she asked, pointing at an official-looking letter she found lying on top of the garbage.
Nathan looked over her shoulder and rolled his eyes dismissively. "Her lawyer says she wants the condo."
Lita turned outraged eyes toward him. "The hell she does. Hasn't she taken enough from you and Sammy?"
The mention of his young son had Nathan's forehead creasing. They had failed him so much already, yet here they were bickering over something so petty as a beachfront condo. If his pride hadn't taken such a blow thanks to that bitch, he would've willingly kicked out the renters and signed over the deed to the condo to her, but pride ran strong in his veins. Lita was right; she had taken too much already and he was damned if he was going to give her any more.
Lita finished putting on her clothes and quickly wrapped her arms around her lover. "Oh baby, I'm sorry we didn't meet each other first," she said softly, kissing him on the lips. Finally, she broke away and glanced at the bureau where two shiny bands of gold lay. She sighed and reached out for them, each cold ring feeling like a dead weight on her finger as she slipped them on. The diamond solitaire, although as lovely as it was expensive, and her plain wedding band just reminded Lita of handcuffs.
"I hate seeing you with those," Nathan said behind her, already dressed to go back to work, clenching his jaw. Lita's cheeks burned and she hung her head.
"I know you do, but you know I can't leave him yet. I can't afford to," she replied almost apologetically. She took his hand and held it to her heart. "I don't love him, Nate."
"Then why don't you leave him? Be with me—with us," he said, not knowing whether it was a plea or a demand. He knew he sounded pathetic but he didn't care. Lita looked at him sadly and shook her head.
"You know why. It's not the right time." She gripped his hand harder when he gazed at the heavens as if asking for divine guidance. As if God would side with adulterers. "Please Nathan, I have to get back to work. He's probably wondering where I am already."
Nathan would like to tell her husband—his rival—just where she had been for the past hour. But one look at Lita's pleading face mollified him…for now. "I could never resist you when you give me that face," he said ruefully, making every effort to smile. She visibly relaxed.
He kissed her brow and patted her on the rump playfully, the previous tension gone for the time being. It was always like this, him making her feel bad for not being able to walk away from her marriage, and him easing her guilt—and perhaps, also his own—by doing something to make her laugh. "It's time to go," he said regretfully.
Lita nodded, her stomach clenching the way it did every time she left this apartment, their love nest, and her haven. She watched as Nathan cautiously opened the front door, surreptitiously glancing both ways before giving her the all clear. She hurriedly gave him a kiss goodbye. "Next Thursday? He'll be out of town the whole day."
He nodded, making a mental note of it. "Next Thursday," he confirmed. One last kiss, and she was gone.
Alone in his apartment, Nathan leaned against the door and sighed. Her smell was everywhere in the tiny two-bedroom apartment, the light blend of fruit and floral that drove him crazy with lust every time it wafted in his general direction.
He knew he was crazy, sleeping with a married woman like this, especially since his own marriage had failed due to adultery—his ex's, not his. He was taking some mighty big chances—especially with his son. It wasn't easy having an adulterous relationship and be the single father of a six-year old at the same time. Sammy liked Lita, but he didn't know what the nature of their relationship was—and Nathan preferred to keep it that way, at least for now. Sammy had been struggling to come to grips with his mother's abandonment, he didn't need his father's complicated love life to make things worse in his six-year old world.
Sometimes, late at night, Nathan would wonder if this affair was worth all the lies, guilt, and inconvenience.
And what kind of message was he sending to his son? That it was okay for him to sleep with a married woman just as long as he was single? That having an affair was okay if you didn't love your spouse anymore?
He absently picked up the pillow that Lita had been using and took a whiff. Instantly, his senses were awakened by that mysterious scent of citrus and roses and he was reminded of all the times they had in and out of the bedroom. And came to a conclusion.
Hell yeah, it was worth it.
***
Amy felt self-conscious, sitting all by herself in the crowded lunchroom with nothing but a file folder to keep her company. The file on MediaWorks' newest client lay open beside her homemade sandwich—two slices of bologna between two slices of white bread with a light slathering of mayo—neither of which had been touched since she sat down ten minutes ago.
This was the same lunchtime routine she went through everyday since she started working at MediaWorks two years ago as a secretary. Before that, it had been at the bank down the street where she had been a teller, an unlikely job for her given her reclusive nature. Apparently, the bank managers also thought the same thing since they let her go after the 90-day trial period. Amy shrugged; it was their loss. She couldn't help it if she found her own company far more enjoyable than that of others.
That's not true, her inner bitch said. How many times have you wished you were at the popular girls' table in the school cafeteria instead of eating lunch by your locker?
Well, Amy had to give Inner Bitch that. She remembered staring at the other girls in her class, draped all over their boyfriends, wishing that she was somehow one of them instead of watching them from afar, her nose buried in a book.
But such was Amy Miller's lot in life. How could she help being a bookworm when her own mother was too busy operating on people and her father was too busy painting mountains to notice that their daughter had no children her own age to talk to? Their marriage was a match made in divorce court from the start.
It was a wonder that they were able to stand each other's company long enough to conceive their only child. It was as if her house had a revolving door: one parent was leaving just as the other was arriving. To say that she hated her childhood and resented her parents was an understatement. Amy smiled bitterly into her cup and took a sip of her lukewarm coffee. It had taken her five years of expensive therapy to finally admit that out loud.
The good thing about having a shitty childhood is having two guilty parents willing enough to foot the hefty therapist's bills, Inner Bitch said flippantly. With her long, sexy tousled blonde hair, perky breasts, and devil-may-care attitude, Inner Bitch was the woman Amy had always wanted to be. Alas, Amy had been born with wiry blue-black hair that had a mind of its own, underdeveloped breasts, and a head-in-the-sand complex. Hardly Inner Bitch-type attributes.
Your problem is you're such a stick in the mud, Inner Bitch said, studying her blood-red talon-like nails. You just need to get out more. Go out, get drunk, have crazy, anonymous sex with a guy you just met. Dress like a slut and act like one. Let me out, goddammit!
Amy rolled her eyes at herself. It was a damn good thing she didn't mention her "conversations" with Inner Bitch at her weekly therapy sessions; her doctor would surely think she had a multiple personality disorder. How could she explain that Inner Bitch wasn't another personality, but her repressed true self without sounding like a basket case? Even to her it sounded crazy.
A chorus of laughter from across the room had Amy looking over her shoulder. The secretaries' usual table. She should have known. The secretaries usually gathered at that table everyday, a throwback to the popular girls' table in the high school cafeteria. Now, like then, Amy was an observant, and a highly jealous one at that.
She had been invited to sit at that table by the queen bee herself when she first started working at MediaWorks. Molly's booming New York accent and infectious smile made it hard for Amy to politely refuse. She ate lunch with them for a few days, her quiet nature keeping her out of the loop of the latest office gossip. Despite the frivolous conversations, Amy found that gradually, she was beginning to come out of her shell and enjoy just listening to their chatter. Even Inner Bitch seemed to have a good time.
Inner Bitch snorted in denial. With that group of soccer moms and Martha Stewart wannabes? As if.
One day, she was late getting down to the cafeteria. Her boss had asked her to take a letter down for her, and she had had no choice but to delay her own lunch hour to comply with her order. Who knew that the woman had a tendency to be so long-winded? By the time she got down to the cafeteria, the others had decided to treat themselves to some sushi at a nearby Japanese restaurant for lunch, and left.
A burst of loud female laughter had Amy's head snapping up from the file she was pretending to read. Of course, that obnoxious laughter could only be from that red-haired twit Molly. Amy narrowed her eyes, trying to hear their conversation, a feat that would require superhuman hearing ability since they were halfway across the noisy room.
Inner Bitch set down her nail file and watched the group with unabashed curiosity. They're talking about you, you know. Amy tried to deny it to Inner Bitch, partly because she didn't want it to be true, and partly because she didn't want Inner Bitch of all "people" see her private humiliation. Some things were best kept to one's self. I AM your self, dumb-ass. Don't you know that you can't hide anything from me?
Amy watched Molly's lips, this time trying to decipher what she was saying. She scowled. That bitch was talking about her, she just knew it! Another course of laughter, and Amy knew she had her proof. Well, if they thought she was just going to sit there, watching them make fun of her, they obviously underestimated her.
Inner Bitch reappeared with boxing gloves and a small towel draped around her neck. Knock that motherfucker to the ground! Amy could swear she could hear the sound of cheering in the background. Amy! Amy! Amy! For once, Inner Bitch was going to be proud of her.
She packed up her things with as much dignity as she could muster and took the long way to get to the exit. Amy Miller was nobody's fool. She was going to spend the rest of her lunch hour at the park across the street. That would show them. She didn't have to take their crap. Bitches.
Inner Bitch groaned, dropping the boxing gloves and towel on the floor in disbelief. You're hopeless, you know that? I don't even know why I bother with you…
Across the room, a pair of large green eyes watched Amy skitter around the room, only to end up leaving it. She just couldn't understand why Amy didn't eat lunch with them, especially after all the trouble she went through trying to be nice to her. Ah well, if Amy wanted to be a loner, who was she to judge? Molly mentally shrugged her shoulders and turned her attention back to the conversation. She laughed at a comment her fellow secretary made.
"You're right, that was the funniest scene in the whole movie," she agreed, putting Amy out of her mind once and for all.
***
Mina had always loved acting. The idea of immortalizing yourself on the screen for the entire world to see had always appealed to her, even as a child. Back then, she would dress up in her mother's old clothes and reenact the stories from her favorite storybooks: Sleeping Beauty, Rapunzel, Snow White. She would even charge the neighborhood kids a nickel each for every matinee performance.
She had always gotten the lead in the school play, only once losing the part since her singing voice wasn't nearly up to par with Alicia Smith's. Oh well, it's not as if she wanted to play Fraulein Maria anyway. Especially since Bobby was playing Captain Von Trapp. Mina repressed a shudder. Seven years out of high school and she still couldn't stomach the thought of having to kiss Bobby, or Bucky, as he was called because of his bucked teeth. She gladly gave the part up to Alicia, who ended up marrying the loser three years ago.
Anyway, her short-lived college career had taught Mina only two things: she wasn't cut out for college, and she sure as hell wasn't cut out to be a bio-chemist, no matter that she had a respectable 3.89 GPA. Science was just too boring; Mina needed action.
And when Mina Lombard wanted something, she usually got it.
She spent the next few months doing shit jobs while she tried to figure out what to do with her life. Actually, she had to take that back. The nude modeling wasn't so bad. She knew her body was every guy's wet dream when she was clothed, but nude? They didn't stand a chance. She could just imagine all the jacking off in the guys' washroom once class was over.
Ironically enough, it was while she was posing with her head thrown back, the tip of her tongue touching her upper lip, her nipples pointing proudly at the ceiling, and two fingers a hair's breadth away from her nether region, did she get inspired to become an actress. She became so excited at the idea that her cheeks flushed and she let out a lusty moan—to the fascination of her audience.
She chuckled, remembering all the (male) artists squirming in their seats, beads of sweat dotting their brows as they struggled to concentrate. Those horny bastards, she thought fondly. Too bad that was the last sitting she ever did. As soon as the class was over, Mina marched herself to the art director—Mina rolled her eyes. Art director, indeed—and quit right then and there. She hadn't looked back ever since.
Now, Mina got up, brushing the hair out of her eyes. She struggled to keep an eager expression on her face, and looked at the man sitting placidly on the couch.
"How'd I do, sir?" She yearned to wipe the dribble away from the corner of her mouth, but she forced herself to remain still as she awaited his verdict.
The man inwardly sneered. He could see through her act of bravado right down to the vulnerable little girl she still was. Knowing that she wanted to dash off to the bathroom and wash out her mouth, he deliberately made a show of stuffing his now limp and very satisfied dick back into his pants, and doing up the zipper. She sure gave one hell of a blowjob.
"Well," he said, very much enjoying leering at her, "you gave a fine audition, Mina, but I'm afraid the decision isn't up to me alone."
Mina grit her teeth but said nothing. She knew what was coming; she had been expecting it the minute she walked into the door and saw him alone in the room. She squared her shoulders and nodded for him to continue. He smiled pompously.
"You'll have to come back later on this evening to audition again, this time on camera, and for me and my co-producer."
Mina nodded and gathered her things. She just wanted to get the hell out of there; she didn't want him to see her cry.
She pretended not to let it bother her, but her father's obvious disdain for her life choices bothered her tremendously. She had always been a 'daddy's little girl' even after Serena came along, but as soon as she dropped out of college, her father had turned cool towards her. She missed the lunches she would share with her father every week during one of her breaks from class; the spontaneous emails she received from him detailing his day, even though she lived only 30-minutes away; the stupid jokes they shared that only they got; the ball games they would catch during the season in the nosebleed section because they were too cheap to buy better tickets. Most of all, she missed her father. But she'd be damned if she ever told him that.
She swallowed. She was a big girl; she didn't need him anymore. Who cares if Serena was the one he lavished his attention on? She sure as hell didn't. Serena, the golden child. The one who never made any trouble for her parents, the one who did everything right. What did it matter that not only had she always been her mother's favourite, but now it seemed as though she were her father's? Classic youngest child syndrome. In Mina's opinion, she was the lucky one, not her sister. Now that she had forged her own way, and had reclaimed her life from her parents' standards, she was much happier. Serena was too chicken-shit to get out from under their parents' thumbs, to become independent, and now she had to suffer from their constant meddling. Poor kid. No matter how much she resented Serena's new favourite kid status, she didn't deserve to have her life controlled by their parents—they were just pretending to be concerned anyway.
She tried to button up her shirt, but found that her shaking hands couldn't manage the third one. To her utter dismay, tears welled up in her eyes and her lower lip started to tremble. Goddamn button. Why couldn't this piece of shit just cooperate with her for once? What the hell did she ever do to deserve such a shoddily constructed shirt that the fucking buttons didn't even work? She was a good person: she believed in God, and walked on the right side of the law in the things that mattered. Why couldn't she just get a break?
She just wanted to make a few movies, for God's sake! What was so wrong with that?
She dashed the back of her hand across her eyes and stumbled out of the room. Outside, the sun was shining, the breeze carried with it that distinct ocean scent she loved, and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. Mina blinked, trying to get used to the light again after "auditioning" in the dark studio for the better part of an hour and a half.
What did her blowjob skills have to do with a romantic comedy anyway, she thought. She should have just gone into the porn industry—at least she'd get paid well for all the sexual favours she performed.
She shook her head; she wanted to be known for her acting skills on camera instead of off. If she wanted to break into the big-time—the mainstream movies—she would have to start choosing her roles more carefully. Unfortunately, being new to the acting game, she basically had to whore herself to even get her foot in the door for an audition. Life sucked.
A young woman passed by holding the hand of a toddler she guessed was her daughter. Mina took an abrupt step back, not wanting to taint the child with the residual filth that came as a result of her activities in the producer's office.
If acting was her dream, how come pursuing it was turning out to be such a nightmare?
***
Irene was bored. The house was clean, the laundry already folded, the grocery list made out, and it wasn't even noon yet. She flipped through the newspaper, raising her eyebrow at some of the headlines she read. Huh, she thought, another sex scandal in the White House again. Well, at least the intern this time had better fashion sense. And, unlike the Bill Clinton/Monica Lewinsky scandal, no cigars were hurt or maimed in the "alleged" kinky activities in the Oval Office…this time around.
Silence. The house was filled with it and it was suffocating. Was it possible to drown in silence? Irene didn't want to find out and started to rustle the paper as much as possible. The refrigerator began to hum behind her and, while it was a welcome intrusion, but it was still too quiet for Irene.
She glanced at the phone on the counter. She narrowed her eyes and tried to tap into her inner goddess powers to make it ring. Thirty seconds passed and nothing happened. She was going to have to throw that self-help book away and write an outraged letter to the author demanding her money back. Inner goddess powers, indeed.
She supposed she could ring up one of her friends and make plans for lunch. She ran through her mental address book and came up empty. Patricia was busy at school, teaching a class of middle-school students Algebra. Anne was at the arboretum, tending to her trees and giving tours to garden enthusiasts throughout the day. The only other person who, like herself, had no job to keep her occupied was Beryl, who made a living as a society wife, but she couldn't stand the woman's gossipy ways. No, it seemed that Irene was doomed to spend the entire day by herself, cooped up in her house.
But then again, what else was new?
She tapped her fingernails restlessly on the countertop. She needed to get out of the house, but where would she go? She reached the last page of the paper. Nothing but advertisements. As much as she appreciated the 10% off coupon for adult diapers, she was confident that she still had adequate bowel and bladder control.
Irene was about to sweep the whole mess into the open trashcan when another advertisement caught her eye. It was just a tiny ad stuck in the bottom corner of the page, no fancy graphics or colors, yet Irene couldn't figure out what attracted her to it.
"Last chance to register for night courses for the fall semester!"
The words just jumped out at her, stirring a lost youth and abandoned dreams from deep within. Could she really do it, go back to school at her age? She couldn't possibly…could she? Nah. She'd be too embarrassed, sitting there in a lecture hall, in the midst of all those 20-somethings. She'd stick out like a sore thumb. An old sore thumb. Still…it couldn't hurt to read the ad one more time, could it?
She scanned the list. Accounting, Anthropology… Introduction to Religion, History of Modern Day Literature… East Asia in the early 19th Century… Writer's Workshop, Zoology—wait, Writer's Workshop? Irene grabbed the blue-ink pen beside the phone and circled it twice. In bold letters, she wrote, 'CALL FOR INFO' beside the telephone number. Then, she carefully tore out the ad and threw the rest away.
Irene took a deep, calming breath. By this time next month, she could be sitting in a lecture hall with hundreds of kids she didn't know. And what would her own kids and husband say about this? Mina probably wouldn't understand why she'd want to go back to school when she was already out, but maybe Serena, given her love of learning, would understand her reasons. That left Ken.
Her stomach churned just thinking about Ken's reaction to her wanting to go back to school. During the first year of their marriage, when Mina had grown enough to be left at her mother's house during the day, she had broached the topic of going back to school to finish her degree, but Ken had put an adamant foot down. He didn't want his daughter to be raised by anyone other than her parents, and since he was busy trying to earn his own degree, Irene was the one left with the task of taking care of the baby by herself.
Over the years, she had thought about going back to school, but then Serena was born and she was once again called upon to raise a baby on top of an active toddler. School eventually got pushed down her priority list until she had forgotten about it altogether. But this time, the girls were grown up and had moved out of the house. Surely Ken would have no objections to her going back to school, right?
Irene resolved to bring up the subject that night during dinner, and this time, she was not taking no for an answer.
***
Told you there would be some chapters without Serena and Darien in them. Don't worry—all will be explained soon. Well, maybe not so soon. Gotta keep up the suspense just a bit longer. Feedback in the form of reviews, emails, or PMs would be greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading and I hoped you enjoyed it. ;)