Mastered 2: Ten Tales of Sensual Surrender (94 page)

“What are you talking about?” Pressing a palm over my lips, I tried to hold back the cry as tears fell down my cheeks. “I’m not gonna get sick.”

“Honey, you will not leave this Earth before I do. Parents are not supposed to bury their children. You cannot fuck up your life over sex.”

Switching the cell phone from one ear to the other, I’d never heard her say the ‘f’ word before. Ever. It caused a thickness in my throat. “Mom…”

“Promise me you won’t be stupid. Promise me you’ll use condoms. Promise me you’ll never get sick.”

Her crying was so loud and hard it was making me get choked up. Miguel went to his desk and grabbed a tissue. He handed it to me as I realized why Mom was acting so tough. She had to set the bar, letting me know that my sexual health was my responsibility, and that whatever choices I made would directly impact my family.

“I promise.” Aching with defeat, my breath hitched. I dried my eyes.

“Good. Now be ready by noon on Friday. Your father will be there with the SUV. Tell the girls I expect to see them. Especially that Taddy. I’ll make up the guest rooms. We’re having pot roast for dinner and we’ll rent movies. Something scary. I know how you like your horror flicks.”

Mom could turn her emotions on and off, from sad to happy, so frickin’ fast. One minute, she’d be all crying and crazy and then the next, she’d be serving pie in my face with a smile for me to eat up. It freaked me the fudge out.

“You don’t have to do all of this…”

“Of course I do. I knew your first semester away at college in the big city was going to be rough, but I had no idea it was going to be like this. I’m sick with worry for you. Having you and the gang over this weekend is for my own sanity. Not yours. I need to see you and be with you.”

“I understand. I love you.”

“I love you, too. Now…Mrs. Edwards is coming over on Saturday morning for brunch. She wants to spend time with Thor. I told her I’d be there for her and help her through this. It’s a grieving process.”

“Thor isn’t dying.”

“Son, I know that. And yes, Thor will go on and have a happy, heathy life, but it’s still a blow for any parent to hear their child is sick. Mrs. Edwards needs our support right now, just as much as Thor. The better we make her feel about this, the better off Thor will be, too.”

“You’re the best. You know that. Don’t you?”

“Well, duh.” She snorted a laugh between her cries.

“I’ll see you on Friday. I love you. Give Dad a hug for me. And don’t worry. Everything will be all right.” I hung up.

“You okay?” Miguel’s forehead etched in a sharp line.

“It’s been a rough week.”

“I’m here if you need to talk to someone…”

I heard the water in the shower turn off.

“Thanks. I better go. I have to meet Vive and Lex for coffee.” My chest tightened as I asked, “Can you hand me my pants?”

I got dressed and left before Diego came out of the bathroom. I didn’t want him to see that I’d been crying.

As I made my way across Broadway, back to my dorm, I thought about Miguel and how he’d concealed his sexual orientation from his parents. I guess that was no different than me not telling Mom I’d gone to Glamorama the other night.

Sometimes we keep the ones we love from knowing the truth about us, who we are, what we’ve done, because we don’t want to hurt them. In the long run, are we only making it worse?

I didn’t have any answers…

Chapter Nine

Two Wigs & A Donut

Morningside Heights

The line for Starbucks was out the door and around the building. I swear, New Yorkers can’t get their day started without caffeine.

Vive, Lex, and I went to the second-best place a few blocks down, Brad’s Brew. Which was fine by me because the girls were wearing black wigs, oversized shades covering their eyes, and scarves. They resembled a pair of mob wives who’d gone into protective custody.

Totally silly.
Especially with poor Hedda on Vive’s arm. Even the dog sported mini-sunglasses with the big double ‘C’ Chanel logo. Cute. But it drew attention to them, not detracted.

Regardless, I was all too familiar with the routine. Every time one of our names ended up in the tabloids, the girls put on disguises. As if different clothing could shield them from the world.

Speechless, arms at my side, we walked into the coffee shop as a tingling feeling of embarrassment swept up the back of my neck and across my face.
Oh, God.
Everyone stared at us.

After we got our order, we picked a table in the far corner, away from the window. The place had grey cement walls and other than the group of students chatting at the espresso machine, it wasn’t that crowded.

“I like it here better anyways. I hear the beans come from Puerto Rico. The coffee tastes sweeter and creamier.” Lex removed her coat and took a sip from her cup. She’d ordered the largest size.

“That’s because you put a gallon of sugar in it,” Vive scolded, untying the scarf from around her neck. The girl had been on a sugar-free, low-calorie, no-carb diet for as long as I’d known her. It drove us all (including herself) nuts.

“Shut up, Viveca. I’m stressed as it is. Ever since last night, my stomach has been in knots. I didn’t sleep a wink and I think a migraine is coming on.
Shit.
The stress of all this is causing me to see white spots. So! I don’t need
you
monitoring my caloric intake, like I’m at some Weight Watchers meeting. Sugar is my Xanax. Sugar makes me feel better. Sugar gives me peace. So let me eat my frickin’ s-u-g-a-r..” She munched on a chocolate éclair.

“What the flip ever.” Vive adjusted Hedda on her lap.

Rubbing the back of my neck, I then glanced down at my watch. It wasn’t even nine o’clock yet and those two were already at each other’s throats.
I will say their matching bobbed hair, probably from India, looks pretty darn fabulous. Not synthetic or Halloweenish in the least.
But the wigs’ dark blue undertones didn’t seem natural against their fair complexions. “Everyone uptown knows it’s us. We’re practically on campus. Don’t you two think the whole disguise thing is getting old?”

“Chill, bitch. Meeting you this morning has nothing to do with being on that stinking Poppy White Show. And I
will
be giving her a piece of my mind later today, don’t you worry about that.”

“Then what the frick
does
it have to do with? Taddy’s wedding?”

“Nope. We’ll get to the why of all this in just a minute. First, we gotta scope out the room and see if
he’s
here,” Lex replied, seeming a bit jumpier than usual.

“He…who?” I gritted my teeth, pressing my lips tight, and rolled my eyes dramatically in their direction. They were probably stalking some boy…again. Vive had done just that in the past. I tried not to pay them any attention, so I asked, “How’s Taddy?”

Scratching her wig, Vive replied, “She’s forgotten all about her miscarriage and is totally focused on her wedding. I think she’s forcing herself not to mourn the loss of the baby and is totally drinking the bride-to-be Kool-Aid.”

“If that works for her, let her be.” I sat back in my chair, glancing at Hedda.

The dog was the most adorable thing I’d ever seen.

“You don’t seem to care much whether Taddy moves to Europe and gets married or not,” Vive snapped.

“I do care. But let’s face the facts. Taddy has a
Playboy
spread coming out in a few months. She’s going to get endorsement deals. Mark my words, she’s going to be famous.”

“Yeah. So.” Lex wiped her lips with a napkin. As daughter to rock-n-roll royalty, she wasn’t impressed with fame or money.

“I anticipate that Taddy will be engaged a dozen or so times—to many different men—before eventually walking down the aisle.”

My mother had been set to wed three different times before she’d married my dad. She’d once said, “When a woman has a brain, a nice body, and a pretty face, she must keep all of her options open to securing
the
best man possible.”

Mom was hardcore.

“I hadn’t thought about it that way,” Lex muttered as she picked up a second, much larger pastry and took a bite.

“Leon hasn’t set a date or anything…” Vive bit her manicured nail.

“We all love Taddy. Let’s be supportive. Lord knows she doesn’t have her parents to lean on right now,” I reminded them.

“Fine.” Vive removed her sunglasses, revealing dilated pupils. “We can do that. Right, Lex?”

“Yup.”

“So, what’s with this getup?”

Lex pushed her shades up into her wig, opened her mouth as if she was going to say something, shoved a piece of donut into it, and shook her head as if she couldn’t possibly bring herself to say what the heck was really going on.

Vive nudged her and encouraged, “Go on. Tell him. You must.”

Taking one more glance over her shoulder, Lex lowered her voice and said shakily, “Although Ford has officially dumped me—and we’re
not
getting back together—he did call late last night, giving us some information about the roofie incident.”

“And what’s that?” Not expecting to hear that, I leaned forward.

Tilting her head from side to side as if weighing how to word it, she continued, “Ford says that Glamorama doesn’t stock the kind of wine we got served.”

“The cheap shit,” Vive added.

“Exactly.” Lex put a powdered-sugared pointer finger up in the air. “He also said the waiter they got on video serving us the drinks was
not
a Glamorama employee.”

“Who was he then?”

“They…don’t know.” Lex shrugged, swallowing so hard I could hear her from across the table. “The image was distorted. They couldn’t get a close-up of his face.

“How does Glamorama know it’s not one of their servers?”

“Well…apparently…the club only staffs females.”

“
Ohhh
. Shit.”

Clasping her hands together, Vive asked, “Do you remember anything about him?”

“Tall. Cute. Resembled one of those Abercrombie models you see in the ads. You sure he didn’t work at the club?”

Lex nodded.

“To be honest, he could be sitting here, watching us, right now, and I wouldn’t notice him.”

“Don’t say that. Don’t even joke like that,” Lex voiced in a shrill tone.

“Seriously, that roofie stuff not only made me sick but sorta made my memory a bit wonky.” All I could remember was my bath and a few choice words Diego’d had with Miguel.

“Me, too, honey,” Vive agreed. “I don’t remember a damn thing about that night. Hell, that man could walk up and kiss me, right here, right now, and I still wouldn’t recognize him.”

Lex started to jiggle her left leg, causing the small circular table between us to vibrate. I didn’t know if the sugar was kicking in to her bloodstream or if she was just on edge because she was nervous. Then she asked, “Don’t you think it’s odd that those drinks were targeted at us?”

Eyes narrowing, I rubbed my temples. “Let’s not get dramatic. I know we’re the talk of the town, but I seriously doubt anyone was targeting us specifically for anything. Many other people got sick that night. It wasn’t just us.”

This was preposterous.

“Ford mentioned that there were many instances seen on the video where the server is circling, standing near, and watching us.”

Trying to calm her down, I reached for her hand. “How could he not? We’re good eye candy.”

“Isn’t that the truth,” Vive muttered and started to pick at her nails.

“Between Vive being dressed up as a ballerina, Taddy and her infamous, soon-to-be-featured-in-
Playboy
breasts sticking out, and
you
coming from rock-n-roll royalty, how could anyone not circle, stare, and watch?” I reasoned.

There was no arguing that.

We all took a sip of our coffee and glanced around the coffee shop. Students were studying. Some were reading books while others were writing on their laptops. Lex’s left leg kept on bouncing. Vive’s picking of her nails had increased to full-on finger gnawing.

Jesus, you two are wound up tighter than a rubber band.

“Listen,” Vive broke the silence between us. “Don’t you think it’s odd that ever since we got to Manhattan, all this bad shit has been happening to us?”

“Yeah,” I admitted. “We need to reset our karma.”

“How?” Lex asked.

“Let’s do some charity work. A fundraiser for HIV or something.” My mind went to Thor.

“Yawn. Screw pro-bono,” Vive sassed. “Let’s go see a voodoo priestess or one of those ladies with the crystals and have our souls cleansed.”

“Oh, brother.” Lex sighed.

“Count me out. I don’t believe in that kinda stuff.” Mysticism and witchcraft weren’t my cup of tea.

“You don’t get it, do you?” Vive shifted Hedda from one part of her lap to the other.

“Get what?” I asked.

“Someone is out to
kill
us.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” I let out a sarcastic laugh.

Lex wiped the frosting from her lips. “Over the summer, Mom’s penthouse blows up. I’ve thought about it over and over again. There’s no way that blast was an accident. Sure, the fire department said it was my fault, because I’d burned the dress and Mom’s oxygen facial tanks were lying around. But come on! You saw the explosion. Someone had to have rigged those tanks to go off like that.”

Although Lex had been cleared of all charges, I could admit the whole thing was a freaky-deaky fluke of major oddsauce.

She leaned forward and added, “Then we’re flying over the Caribbean with Taddy, on our way to her next modeling assignment, and the plane just happens to fall apart in mid-air.”

“Don’t remind me.” I turned my cheek, flashing them my scar.

Vive slammed her fist on the table, causing Hedda to stand on her hind legs. “I’ve researched our plane crash. The jet wasn’t old. Someone had to have tampered with the aircraft before we even took off. What else would cause a tear in the ceiling like that?”

“Air pressure,” I suggested, putting my palms in the air.

The Federal Aviation Administration hadn’t released an official statement as to why our plane fell apart. It was still under investigation. But clearly the plane
fell apart
.

“Bull-fucking-shit, Blake Morgan.” Vive crossed her arms.

“Did Officer Ford come to this conclusion, too?” I asked.

They both nodded simultaneously.

“No. Way.”

“Yes waaay,” Vive snapped back.

“It’s a bit out of Ford’s jurisdiction, but he’s looking into it. He’s advised me to tell all of you to stay put. No traveling. No clubbing. We go to class. We come home. That’s it.”

“Looks like Taddy won’t be going to France anytime soon, then.” Vive pushed her seat back.

This was insanity. I was used to the girls and their over-the-top drama, so I wasn’t fazed by what they’d said. Not at all. I was more annoyed that they were giving this any consideration and putting energy into it. I’d had enough drama for one week. Wanting to change the subject, I asked, “What did Ford say about having sex? Are we at least allowed to fuck?”

“Oh, brother.” Lex sighed and turned into Vive. “See, I knew we shouldn’t have told Blake. I told you he wouldn’t believe us. He’s not taking us seriously.”

“
Who
exactly do you plan on fucking?” Vive asked.

“Diego.”

Clapping her sticky hands together, Lex’s shaking leg stopped. “Finally, some good news around here!”

“Not so fast. What about Miguel?” Vive’s right painted eyebrow arched.

“I think he and I will just be friends.”

“Shoot. I liked him better for you,” she admitted, finally removing her fingers from her mouth.

“Why’s that?”

“Call it women’s intuition.” She shrugged. “He just seems like a better fit. Honey, don’t get me wrong. I like Diego. He’s very easy on the eyes. But based on my interactions with them in class, there just seems to be a layer of depth to Miguel that has yet to be explored.”

“Not up for that challenge,” I admitted. Don’t get me wrong. Miguel Santana was beautiful. But if he’d wanted me in that way, he would’ve come for me. I was sure of it.