From this point, I don't plan any chapters in Jackson's POV. It's all Lisa from here on out, which is super fun because we really won't know Jackson's motivations. :)
Sending out tons of love to my reviewers- it's always scary to start a new story. :D Just like in Blood and Roses, I'm going to be responding to my reviewers, but since there's not a lot happening yet, there's not much to say except thank you thank you thank you to CharliRenee123, Pirate Gyrl, Perhaps-A-Star, Miss Frangipani, BacktotheFuture1985, Funnyl0ve, and MsRainbowbrite.
Chapter 1: Disillusionment
Lisa eyed herself in the full-length mirror, glancing back over her shoulder to appraise the outfit. It was gorgeous, of course. Knee-length, high-waist pencil skirt and a lace puff-sleeve blouse, in black amethyst. Easily over a thousand dollars, but since when did that matter?
Lisa was fairly sure that she already had an identical outfit, but she couldn't be bothered to mentally rifle through her closet. Brad didn't really care how much money she spent, and it was something to do. She sometimes thought that she was turning into the Rainman of designer labels. She had spent so much time in stores that she was able to tell who someone was wearing just by looking at him or her. Lisa sipped her complimentary champagne, turning her attention from that sad thought to what shoes she needed to complete the ensemble.
It was all so important, apparently. If one element of her outfit was out of place, she might as well walk the streets naked. Maybe a black stiletto ankle boot...Louboutin would work.
Lisa turned to face her reflection head-on, forcing a smile when she noticed the dour expression that had become all too common. She set down the flute and began to peel off her outfit. She had been seeing that same gloomy little pout too often lately.
It was the wedding- it had to be. It was the final element of this dream she had been living in for the past few years. After all, what would someone like Brad want with a plain woman like her? She wasn't particularly educated or stunningly gorgeous. There were thousands of women that had more appeal. And she was damaged.
She had heard of dreams that felt like they lasted forever. Maybe this was one of them. She sometimes felt like she would wake up in her apartment, alone. It was just unreal. She had a perfect life with a perfect fiancé...such a damn cliché. Poor little girl who had everything and still wasn't satisfied.
She had no reason not to be happy, really. Brad was the nicest guy she had ever met. She knew that he could be a shark in bloody water when it came to the business world, but he had never been that way with her. He was sweet, considerate, and attentive. They had nights where he had to break off plans, of course, but he always made it up to her. Not with empty affections like flowers or chocolates- with real quality time.
Her friends used to constantly bring up how long it took him to propose- after all, they had been dating for two years already- but he had put it into such eloquent words. Usually, he saw what he wanted and took it, but he didn't want to take her. And she had never felt that things were moving too slowly or too fast. What more could she ask for?
Lisa walked to the cashier, a shop assistant carrying her new items behind her, and handed over her credit card. She waited for the new purchases to be loaded into her car before driving away from the store. Brad had offered a new Mercedes and a driver, but for now, Lisa liked driving herself- she had accepted the Mercedes, of course- and he had respected that as well.
Yes, he had stood his ground when it came to Lisa having to quit her job, but once she had quit, she realized that she didn't particularly like it anyway. He had told her that he was old-fashioned, and didn't want her to have to work. Of course she didn't have to- she could shop like this everyday for the rest of their lives and still hardly make a dent in his finances.
She was just bored. That was it- when he wasn't around, she didn't have much to do except shop and spend time with the other society ladies. She had felt like a sore thumb around those women for a while, but they had accepted her as one of them long ago. It was just monotonous sometimes. Yeah, that was the problem.
That had to be why she was having those dreams again. That was why when she closed her eyes, she saw those piercing blue eyes, that perfect shade of cerulean that had no business being found in the eyes of a cold-blooded killer. She felt those soft, seductively full lips barely grazing her ear and his silky voice that somehow worked its way through her veins to her very core.
Lisa had heard more times than she cared to count that the passing of time glosses past events, that absence makes the heart grow fonder, etc etc. Time hadn't just glossed the facts- it left her subconscious trapped in that airplane bathroom with the exquisite killer. The dreams started just as it had happened in reality, but in her fantasies, his lips grazed her jaw before finding hers. He sucked her bottom lip while she trembled, his hands grazed places that they had no business touching.
She succumbed to the seduction as his soft fingertips trailed up her inner thigh, and that was when she woke up in a feverish sweat, the room silent except for her sharp breaths and her heart pounding in her ears. That was when she realized that it was her own hand touching her, and thanked God that she was alone...usually. Sometimes Brad had been asleep next to her, but he thankfully had continued to sleep soundly, oblivious to his then-girlfriend's sickening desires.
Lisa was ashamed to admit that more often than not, she had continued to stroke herself, closing her eyes and trying to conjure up images of those chiseled cheekbones, soft chocolate hair, slender fingers, and mostly those eyes as she quickly brought herself cascading into a burning climax. It was her dirty little secret, the private passion that she didn't dare breathe a word of to anyone around her. She wouldn't even allow herself to say his name out loud, biting her lip to keep it caught in her throat.
But apparently the vivid dreams and downright embarrassing moments of weakness weren't enough, because fantasy was beginning to invade reality. There were moments when Lisa felt as though she were being watched, and she would catch a glimpse of those haunting eyes in the crowd. On her second look, they were gone.
Lisa knew that she was being ridiculous. The dreams had only started in the last month, and she had only been spotting him for a week. It had been two years- why would he be following her now? She hadn't felt safe for months after the red eye flight, after she got word that he had mysteriously escaped from custody and left no trace behind except for a frightened woman checking dark corners in her apartment, afraid to step out on the street.
And at that time, her fantasies joining the mile high club with an assassin had been nonexistent. She had been terrified that he was coming for her, and when she did dream about him, it was far more sinister and she rarely lived through it. But nothing had happened, and the whole thing eventually faded into a faint memory of a horrible experience tucked away in the recesses of her mind.
So why was she dreaming of him and seeing him now? And why was she seeing him in such an alluring context?
Engagement jitters. Those were normal, right? And she didn't have a whole lot of romantic experience to draw on, so why not manipulate that traumatic event into something more appealing?That certainly didn't seem normal, but neither had the early hours of that morning.
The last sighting had been less than an hour ago. Lisa had almost dropped her crystal flute when she noticed a familiar profile inspecting a suit jacket less than thirty feet from her. She had never seen his face, but something in that confident posture and slim, elegant build had been familiar. She had been trying to work up the courage to approach the man when a salesgirl had caught her attention, bringing the dress Lisa had requested. When the brief exchange was over, the man had been nowhere to be seen.
Lisa shook her head sharply as she slammed on her brakes. She had almost run a red light. She found herself distracted too often for comfort. She didn't know how many times she had been on Skype or the phone with Brad and realized that she had no idea what he had just said. And it wasn't thoughts of him- it was usually nothing. Her brain had just been empty.
Engagement jitters. She knew that with more time, the intoxicating fantasies would fade away again, and she would be as happy as her situation deserved.
"Leese?" Lisa yanked her hand away from the rim of her wine glass, turning her attention to her best friend, Eve. She realized that the blonde had been trying to get her attention for a while, and shot her a guilty smile, not even bothering to remind her that she didn't like that nickname.
"Sorry," she replied sheepishly. "What's up?" Eve took a bite of her salad, visibly annoyed.
"I was asking when we're going to pick up your wedding dress," she repeated. "You told me last week that it had arrived, and I assume you still want me to come with you." Lisa sighed, taking a quick sip of her wine.
"Stalin's sending me a new 'wedding assistant'," she explained, referring to her future father-in-law. "He told Brad that he can't trust something this important to just anyone- he's sending me one of his 'people'." Lisa rubbed the back of her neck. She had a strong dislike for Brad's father. As far as she could see, he was an overbearing, pompous asshole. Part of the reason the relationship had gone as long as it had without a proposal was that Governor Wellmont had insisted that Lisa meet with his approval, and now that she apparently did, he was rushing them to go through with the wedding.
Wellmont was about to start his presidential campaign, and he wanted Lisa and Brad married in February, just in time for the primary elections. Lisa couldn't help but wonder what he had in plan for the general election- was she supposed to pop out a baby by then? Now Wellmont had decided that Lisa was too incompetent to plan a public-friendly wedding, even with the help of Brad's assistant, Kate.
Eve rolled her eyes, and Lisa couldn't agree more. She hated how Brad went along with whatever his dad said, but she had learned early on that in the bourgeoisie, disobeying your parents potentially had much more serious consequences- especially when your father is a millionaire many times over and a governor.
"So what, he's sending this woman-"
"Man," Lisa interrupted, taking another sip of chardonnay.
"-man," Eve continued, "to make sure the dress is okay for you to wear?"
Lisa nodded. "The dress, the bridesmaid dresses, the flowers, the band- all of it," she replied coldly. "It has to look just so for the photos, after all...the perfectly planned "candid" shots of the happy day." She had already stressed out about the new development, and now it was just one more thing. At least planning the wedding had kept her somewhat busy- now it was tainted by having to submit everything for approval.
Eve tsked sarcastically. "We sound bitter," she noted, taking another bite of her salad. Lisa poked at her food, remaining silent. She didn't have much of an appetite lately, which was fine with her- God forbid she gain weight before the wedding.
"No, it's fine," she replied, trying to sound confident while lying through her teeth. "I've never really had a dream wedding, anyway, so it's not a big deal." The truth was that Lisa had always had a fantasy wedding, but it was never on a budget like what she had access to, and definitely not Manhattan in the winter- they had originally planned for Paris, but of course Wellmont insisted it take place in America. She had always wanted something more low-key...a gorgeous spring day on a beach, wearing a simple dress with an orchid in her hair, and no shoes. It was cliché, but that's what she wanted.
Actually, almost everything about her life was a cliché. Her childhood was a typical suburban upbringing. She had started out as a part-time night receptionist in high school and over her ten years at the Lux Atlantic, worked her way up to a manager. Her rape had landed her a spot on a statistic sheet, and she had done the whole closed-off loner thing as a result. Typical. She had met a true Prince Charming- it was like something out of a fairy tale.
He was the only abnormal part of her life. She wondered how many other people had knowingly met an assassin and lived to tell about it, let alone lived to tell about it because they had come out on top. For that one night, Lisa had felt like an equal, and at some points, even felt like she had some control. She had actually felt formidable. He didn't treat her like she was weak by the time she was through with him. But that was two years ago, and she had gotten nowhere. Her life was much prettier than it used to be, but she still didn't feel like it was her own.
Happy Holidays! R&R!