The Claiming of Sadie Graves (8 page)

I get about 50 yards ahead when the town car comes barreling up to the sidewalk, and stops next to me. Taxis and other cars immediately start to honk. Lucas rolls down the window. His face is a mask, but his voice is dripping with contempt.

“I came by to see you, Sadie Graves. And I’m pissed now, because you deliberately left to avoid seeing me. Tell me you didn't.” His eyes narrow.

“You’re very astute for a mogul, Mister Sutton” I say acidly. “Luckily you have lots of other interests to keep you busy on this beautiful Friday.” I incline my head toward the interior of the car, where
his companion is seated. I walk quickly away, angry that he can make me this mad, without even really trying. He’s just doing his thing. I wish now, desperately, that I had never laid eyes on his face. I keep walking quickly, my face flushed.

I’m shocked when he
grabs my arm and pivots me toward him. He got out of the car soundlessly, and fast. His hand grips my elbow with a fiery hold. I look back and the rear passenger door of the vehicle is still open. It’s idling. Lucas pulls me very close to him and whispers, “You can’t hide from me, Sadie. Stop running. I want you, and I know you want me. Just…stop it.”

“You’re probably the most egotistical man I’ve ever met, Lucas. If you want something to do with Anna’s business, go for it. But leave me alone.
We have nothing in common, and I don’t want your lifestyle, or your personal life, to blow back on me. I mean it.” I shrug out of his hold and walk away.

He stands on the sidewalk, behind me, until I turn the corner to cut over to 5
th
Avenue. He crosses his arms over his chest. He looks mad, and resigned, and maybe something else. I’m not sure about the something else. 

I only know because I looked back.

Once.

But that was all.

I work the rest of the day, pick up pan of lasagna and a big jug of red wine on the way back to my apartment, and hang out with Jenny for the night. I help her unpack and wash her clothes, even ironing a few of her favorite pieces. She needs an alteration on one thing, and I turn on my sewing machine and whip it out. She’s tired.

I feel confused, fat
igued and sad, so we’re good company.

I wonder if I had stayed, would I have had a romantic lunch with
Lucas? Would he have kissed me again? Would he have held me close? Held my hand?

Is hand-holding what I’m after?
Really?

Sometimes I wonder about myself. I have a hot guy who
obviously just wants to have sex with me – no strings attached – and he’s beautiful and distant enough to be worth considering. And I go and blow it by getting mad because he’s controlling. And egotistical. And a smart-ass.

And…

Yeah. Good going, Sadie. Bullet dodged, babe. Bullet dodged.

“Already In”

Jon McLaughlin,
Indiana

I wake up early on Saturday and resolve that today is going to be Jenny’s day. I pull on yoga pants, a fleece jacket, fleece gloves and a scarf and head down to the corner bodega to see Mr. Alvarez. He’s almost adopted Jenny and me since we moved here three years ago. Within months, he started to carry our favorite brands, so we could avoid other stores. When we began to bring him baked goods and plates of savory food, he became even more accommodating. This morning, he sells me a package of nitrate-free bacon, some sour cream, four quarters of salted butter, a carton of eggs, and some whole-grain bread. I grab a copy of the New York Times and head back to the apartment, after a big hug from Mr. A. He’s like another father. I’m so happy he’s nearby.

I halt on the sidewalk when I realize there’s a limo outside the building. It looks familiar.

Ooh. It
is
familiar. My heart does a somersault inside my chest.

Its eight fifteen, and Lucas opens the
rear door and gets out, looking bemused. He’s wearing workout pants, running shoes, a t-shirt and a zip-front jacket. He looks good. Really good. I realize my hair is wildly curly and I don’t have on one scrap of make-up. There’s no artifice to fall back on. I slow up, and approach him with caution, my hands full of grocery bags.

“Good morning Miss Graves”, he says formally, with a small smile on his face. “I was hoping you could have breakfast today, since our
last few conversations were cut short – or didn’t happen. I was just about to call you.”

“Um, no, Mr. Sutton.
I can’t have breakfast out today, because I’m making something for my roommate, Miss Whitson. You’re welcome to join us, but only after I’ve let her know that you’ll be present, if you don’t mind? She’s been travelling, and I don’t want to railroad her into company if she’d rather just unwind.”

He smiles, and nods his head. “Do you need help with your bags?”

I decline, and ask him how he’d like for me to let him know what her decision is. “Text me”, he says. I agree, and head inside with my groceries.  I’m not sure what to think about
this
development.

Jenny squeals with excitement and
insists
that I invite Lucas Sutton inside. The apartment is (as usual) sparkling clean, and we have enough food for a hearty breakfast for everybody, even the neighbors. She lights the fireplace and squints at me, alarmed. “CALL HIM, now!! What is wrong with you, Sadie! You are completely daft!”

I text him to ring the buzzer, and he does within a minute or so. He knocks, and I move to let him in. Jenny is in the kitchen, breaking eggs, and she stills when she sees him come through the front door. Lucas Sutton can’t escape from his own face. She says nothing, but I
see a slight frown cross her forehead. She’s immediately worried for my future. Can I possibly survive a man this pretty? I feel certain that he’s only interested in me for my designs, but Jenny reads romance into every situation.

She
comes out of the galley kitchen to meet Lucas, and he asks her all about her job with Michael Kors. He sprawls on our sofa, looking like a model himself, in rapt attention to Jenny’s explanations and funny stories. Within minutes, he admits his company had an opportunity to rep her boss years ago, and they failed to recognize his appeal. “Ha! What a blast that you should admit that, Mr. Sutton”, she laughs. “He’s still mad as hell about it; did you know? We make a lot of corporate decisions based on whether or not Sutton Shield would move on an idea or not. If he thinks you’re too weak on something, he goes for it!” Her eyes light up. “I’m glad I’m finally meeting the nemesis of Mr. Kors. But I
do
hope your intentions with my roommate are honorable? She’s a true talent, Mr. Sutton. Not just a flunky to another designer.” Jenny smiles, warmly. He returns the smile. “No, Jenny, I freely admit the situation with Michael could have gone better. My father was determined to come out on top on that one, and he made a major mistake. We lost tremendously as a company, because of a silly pissing match over royalties. Mr. Kors deserved more, he knew it, and my father denied him. It was, at best, a learning experience for my dad.”

Jenny’s face soften
s. “I’m sorry it happened. Artists are so emotional over their work. I can see how misunderstandings might make repping different clients a challenge.” 

“It’s true. I think people discount the importance of talent and artistry, Jenny. The day I met Sadie
; the model I was escorting insulted her. She had no idea that the person pinning her gown also designed a line of exquisite lingerie. Our company is fighting that sort of ignorance, by recruiting amazing talent.”

He keeps silent on his intentions toward me, a fact not lost on either of us.

I watch Lucas and Jenny now; they appear to be equals, despite his advanced age. In their workout clothes, they discuss other designers, recent events and the outcome of Fashion Week for different ateliers. I cook breakfast, and listen quietly while they talk. When everything is ready, I bring it to the table, home-style.

I’ve
heated plates in the oven. Lucas and Jenny spoon warm eggs, cheese grits, crispy bacon and browned toast onto their dishes. There’s soft butter, honey and jelly to accompany the meal. I pour coffee, juice and tea into carafes, and leave them on the table. While they talk, I make my own plate, and eat in silence. I like their conversation, and not being part of it gives me a sense of calm I don’t normally feel with Lucas. I realize a few things about him, now. He’s smart. Really smart. Not just about appearances or concepts, but about people and their passions. He carries on a great conversation and has deft, realistic opinions. He’s humble. I never would have thought that. And, his face is probably his enemy. I see that now, because his opinions might not carry as much weight because of his beauty. Like a woman! I laugh inwardly at the thought.

They both pause in conversation and look at me. “Sadie!” Jenny says, “I feel terrible. Here we are, prattling away, and you’ve made this fabulous meal.”

“I loved doing it, Jenny. I really missed you this week. Even Mr. Alvarez missed you!”  I laugh. She does too. “Mr. Alvarez owns the bodega on the corner, Mr. Sutton. He loves Sadie and me.” Lucas replies, wiping some honey from the side of his mouth, “Who can blame him?” We all chuckle, and I rise to put away breakfast. Lucas laughs at my retreating back, “And Sadie can really cook. This day has been a revelation already!”

When all the dishes are in the dishwasher and Jenny is ready to take a shower, Lucas asks if I will speak with him privately. There’s really no place besides my room for that, but I offer tentatively. I know that he will not approach me sexually again – th
ose moments in the limo were simply a mistake. He nods his head. And so he says goodbye to Jenny and follows me into my room, to talk about something obviously important to him.

You Do Something to Me”

Paul Weller,
Stanley Road

My
bedroom is painted the color of the western Caribbean. It’s turquoise on one day, and teal the next. The paint has a magical quality.  It’s a medium-sized room, with a large walk-in closet - one of the reasons we chose this apartment. Both bedrooms have tremendous storage. My bed has a huge brightly-colored bird painting I did as a project in design school over it. It’s mounded with pillows. The headboard is a door from an African cupboard, featuring carvings of women carrying water and working in the fields. I fell in love with it, because it reminded me how far women have come. There’s soft lighting scattered around and a reading lamp over my side of the bed – the left side.

There aren’t any chairs, and so we sit on
the mattress.

Lucas clears his throat. “Um, listen, Sadie. I behaved badly
yesterday. In fact, I’ve behaved badly since the minute I met you. I’d like to start out with asking for your forgiveness?”

I sit quietly. I have
a flashback for just one second of his tongue stroking mine and his hands on me, and my belly flips over lazily.
Oy. I have to forget that. I’d better start now.

“I
t’s okay, Lucas. I’m sorry, too. I know you’re not interested in me like that. I forgive you. Now, what do you want to talk to me about?”

He
gets a funny look on his face, but then shifts in a millisecond to looking controlled. And so he begins. “It’s about your line. I know you gave your designs to Anna, and at this point she owns them. I’m going to offer to rep them next week. But I’m only offering if she gives you creative listing, and control of future artistic choices. If she won’t, I’m going to offer you a different position, like we talked about on Thursday night, with my company. I just want you to understand one thing. I believe in your talent, and I trust that you have what it takes to be a household name. That’s what I wanted to discuss with you. Do you understand?”

I’m not sure I do.
I thought we already talked about this.

“
Are you saying you’re going to promote the lingerie line, but only if Anna recognizes me as the designer? Lucas! She’ll be livid. Her reputation is her most important asset. I don’t want to belittle her like that. She’s given me a chance, given me everything. You can’t seriously think I would betray her?”

His eyes narrow.
“Sadie, listen to me. My job is recognizing and selling talent. And you are a rare find. Let me handle the details, and trust me. I
need
you to trust me. Say you do?”

I pause. Trust isn’t my favorite currency.

“Lucas, I’ve known you for five minutes. I’ve known Anna for years. I can’t be sure I can do what you’re asking of me. You’re suggesting she defer to me, and that won’t do. I mean it.” I’m scowling without realizing it.

He sits quietly for a few moments.

“I’ll work out the details, Sadie. With you present, preferably, but I can do it without you there too. She’ll get a sweetheart deal, and you’ll get your chance. But in the meantime, I need something else.” I look at him, all pale face and bed head. It’s hard to have leverage with a man when you can’t even hide behind lip gloss. I feel unprotected.

He inches closer to me.
“I need you to kiss me again. Need it. Seriously.” His face is grave. He is now so close I can smell his hair, his skin. My heart picks up, tripping a beat. My stomach rolls, and my mouth goes dry.