Shame of It All Page 4

  Time for breakfast and my continued stalking of Colt outside the protection of this religious sanctuary he tricked himself into believing would save his soul.

  ###

  The Edulium once hosted the crème de la crème of Cartleigh high society back when Grandmother and Grandfather were children. Many weddings and gatherings were held here. It was a members-only club when I was younger, but various recessions and different owners made it lose its standing. But it was still respected and gave off a posh vibe if you were willing to pay.

  For what I had planned, I was willing to pay. I had adequate funds at my disposal. So here I sat at the bar, where everyone would notice me, drinking an herbal tea and eating a twenty-dollar yogurt and fruit. I brought my MacBook to keep me busy while I waited for Colt and his parents and whomever else joined their party for brunch.

  People came here for brunch to be seen. Most diners had some sort of alcoholic beverage, whether it be a Bloody Mary or a mimosa. The bartender gave me a bellini after she asked if I wanted one because on Sunday everyone of legal drinking age received the complimentary beverage. I let it sit while I drank my tea, checking the only reserved table in the dining room near the windows facing the bay.

  Today was all about patience and waiting. I was good at doing both, although having a laptop with WiFi access helped kill the time. But my reward came soon after. Colt entered with his parents and his senator uncle to great fanfare. The host, who I presumed was the owner, fawned over them. All three men were fascinating to look at since they oozed money and charm. Admiration was easy for a person to create, like affection or hate. It was also easy to manipulate.

  Colt and manipulation went together so well. He had done it to me countless times. Now the tables were turned, and he deserved a huge dose of it.

  I crossed my legs, and hiked my skirt up to mid-thigh, turning slightly toward the Hahn table. I could have unbuttoned the top buttons of my dress to show cleavage, but it was too obvious and too soon for the seduction techniques to grab Colt’s interest. Not that I necessarily had to flash my legs or breasts to grab his attention. My presence was enough.

  He didn’t respond as he soaked in the praise of his fans. I finished my yogurt and scrolled through the news on my browser. I twirled the end of my braid around my finger and swung my leg in the air as the Hahns made their way to their table. Not until the buzzing died down did I peer up to catch Colt staring at me. Unlike at Mass, this time he was obvious, so much so his uncle the senator said something to Colt, and I caught him saying my name and high school.

  I could have tortured him more by staying here while he ate. He might even approach me at some point. But I didn’t want to rush our reunion. I was giving him a small taste of what he might expect.

  Not wanting to go too far yet in my taunting, I paid my bill then drank my bellini while Colt tried but failed to subtly watch me while his uncle did the same. I was tempted to salute them both with my glass or even curtsey, but those flagrant displays weren’t needed to get my point across.

  ###

  Whereas September held onto summer, the start of October was quite different. Autumn had taken over based on the change in the color of the leaves on the trees and the coolness in the air. The undercurrent of humidity was still there, but autumn in upstate New York was a pretty sight. The scene in my backyard with the trees surrounding the lake was very appealing. Even the albatross of the Hahn house didn’t bother me. I sat outside, wearing sunglasses and drinking the wine from Yakim’s welcome basket while listening to Stravinsky on my cell. It was a lazy type of Sunday, allowing me to ready myself for the work week ahead.

  I expected Colt to return home and spy on me. It had been two weeks since I last saw him. It was why I sat in the back, facing the lake. If he was home, he would notice me. He wouldn’t take an initiative under the guise of being a good neighbor or old friend and dare to confront me on my property. He would expect me to come to him or accidently bump into him. Eventually I would because everything between us would be based on my rules. I would have the power this time.

  I had just closed my eyes and taken a long sip of my wine, when I heard barking. Cracking open an eye, I spied a golden retriever that reminded me of Ari’s dog.

  The pooch trotted right up to me, and, with its tongue hanging out, stared at me with its big brown eyes. I leaned over to welcome my furry visitor.

  Ari appeared, looking somewhat rumpled with messy hair and in ripped jeans and a white T-shirt. A big smile crossed his face, and he waved. The white bag he held in his other hand had the Sweet Sharpe café logo in the middle.

  “Herriot is usually friendly with people, but he seems to have a crush on you.” Ari came over and stood next to him.

  Does the same apply to you? I could have asked, but as much as I liked Ari, I didn’t want him to think I was open to anything other than friendship. I didn’t want him to become collateral damage in my revenge. But I didn’t want to ostracize him. He might figure out something was off. Keeping him close enough but with some barriers would work to my advantage.

  “Is this a quick hello, or do you and Herriot have a few minutes to sit and talk?” I indicated a vacant chair off to the side. “Would you like anything to drink?”

  Ari sat next to me. “Wine?”

  “It’s five o’clock somewhere.” It was past noon, which for some reason was acceptable to start drinking based on the consensus of the public, as least in America. There had been many times I started drinking before then, but it was always some juice and vodka combination or a mixed drink Yakim created.

  “I’m not judging. During football season, especially on Sunday, I’ll crack open a beer by noon.” He pointed to the bag he set on the table next to my wine. “We had an ulterior motive on our walk. We brought you some muffins to officially welcome you home.”

  I swallowed a laugh when Herriot dropped his chin on Ari’s lap while staring up at me. I never had much of an opinion on dogs in general, but the goldie was adorable.

  As the music continued to play on my cell, Ari lifted an uneven eyebrow that would even out with a good waxing. “You like classical music?”

  I shut off the music, still checking the area around his eyes or rather his eyebrows. I never noticed how bushy they were. Not that I was turned off by them, but it had been so long since I interacted with a man who wasn’t concerned with looking his best like Yakim.

  “I’ve changed from the days when I listened to Spice Girls and Green Day.” I relaxed in my seat and drank my wine.

  He opened the bag and took out a muffin. “My nephew likes the same music I grew up listening to even though it plays on the classic oldies channel.” He made air quotes around the word classic.

  I accepted the muffin and took a piece. An unexpected burst of banana and nuts filled my mouth. I ate another piece and closed my eyes to enjoy my snack.

  “I guess I done good.” He settled in his chair, causing it to creak.

  I pulled down my sunglasses and opened my eyes, spotting him with a pleased smile. “Done good? Y’all’s cocky.”

  He had just popped some of his muffin in his mouth and started to laugh or cough. His sputtering caused some crumbs to fly from his mouth. I laughed harder than I should because it was too funny.

  “I can’t believe you brought out your old-school upstate townie accent,” he said.

  “Hey!” I slapped his arm. “I never had an accent. And neither do you.”

  “We were lucky to live on the north side.” He bent to pat Herriot who now dozed at his feet.

  Ari and I were lucky. We were the in-betweens, solid middle class but nowhere near the most respected of families in town like the Hahns even though more than half of Cartleigh was made up of families like mine and Ari’s. Marina was the outlier who had tried her best to rise above her station as trailer-park trash.

  He finished eating his muffin and wiped stray crumbs off his face and shirt. I would have been appalled by anyone else’s lack of manners. But w
ith Ari I hadn’t minded. I excused most of his quirks, not that he had many, because he was a good egg, as Grandmother had called those she respected.

  “Don’t take it the wrong way, but I noticed you have a somewhat strange accent or a different way speaking, as if you’re thinking of each word before you say it.” He folded his hands on his stomach and slouched back. “Your fancy college education is responsible?”

  “Like you should talk, Doctor who graduated from Penn State and Cornell,” I teased, impressed by his educational background. I couldn’t understand why he would return here to operate his practice, though it had basically been given to him. Even his parents and sister had left Cartleigh, for what I assumed was for better things. Why would he stay here?

  “You don’t want to know what my student monthly loan payments are. If I’m lucky, I’ll have them paid off before I’m sixty.” He sighed dramatically for show.

  I really didn’t want to talk about college loans. I didn’t have any. Once I graduated from Amherst, Yakim took me under his wing, and I thrived professionally, so much so I could retire by the age of forty if I chose to. Not wanting to lose this welcome lackadaisical comradery with Ari because discussing my accomplishments and fortune might lead to resentment on his part, I would change the course of our discussion. Based on experience, men didn’t like to be reminded that women might have the upper hand over them when it came to professional accomplishments.

  “You know how you mentioned my accent a few minutes ago? I probably sound more European because I travel overseas often.” My main home base was Sochi with Yakim, but Ari didn’t need to know. “I speak four languages fluently so it may have changed the way I speak.”

  He sat up, eyes wide. “Four? That’s beyond impressive. I’m fluent in English of course, and I can’t even say I have an elementary level in Spanish.”

  “Fluency in English is a plus. You sound educated, which you are.” I wasn’t trying to act a snob, but sometimes it was hard not to. I wanted to show off, but I also wanted to praise him. It wasn’t meant to be a competition between us.

  He sent me an easygoing smile and shrugged. “I was lucky to study abroad my senior year of college. I attended University of Edinburgh.”

  He shifted in his seat and his upper arm bulged under his T-shirt, making me want to squeeze it. “Edinburgh is one city I have yet to visit.”

  “But you’ve been to many across the globe, right?” He stared across the lake. “How many?”

  There was a longing in his voice. I never knew if he wanted to travel. In high school he never indicated he wanted to. But I had never shared, either. “Over forty.”

  He made a “hmm” sound, and his mouth fell into a flat line. “Looks like the mayor is home, and he has a special guest.”

  Ari mentioning Colt made me flinch. The entire time we talked, I hadn’t thought of Colt at all. I turned my attention to the Hahn house where Colt stood on the second-floor deck with a petite woman wearing a white sleeveless sheath dress. They talked in close proximity, as if they were more than friends. If he was romantically involved with this woman, I would have to change my game plan.

  A buzzing came from Ari’s pocket. He took out his cell and read the touchscreen. A smile broke across his face. “My neighbor is asking for help. She’s long retired and thinks I co-parent her Maine coon because a few years ago she got loose and ended up in my backyard. She wants me to cut Trixie’s nails.” The humor lines around his mouth deepened. “She’s offering homemade peach cobbler as an incentive. Want to join me? I can give you the grand tour of Casa de Cobb.”

  Herriot sat up and rested his chin on my knee, adding to the temptation.

  “I’d love to but I have a phone call with a business associate about the upcoming week.” I wanted to watch Colt and his female guest as long as possible. If he noticed me snooping, he might consider it an invitation to become reacquainted. I rubbed Herriot’s ear. “Can I take a rain check?”

  Ari looped Herriot’s leash around his hand. “How about dinner next week? We should be able to find something near the center since it’s booming with restaurants and bars.”

  Again, he left me the option to accept his offer. Why couldn’t he set the plans? I liked to take charge, but in this case I would let him decide.

  “How about I call you tomorrow about dinner?” I stayed sitting while Ari stood. At the same time, Colt and his female guest went inside. He didn’t look in my direction as he entered his house.

  Ari clapped, making me concentrate on him again. “Great. Let’s go, Herriot, and say hello to Trixie.” He shifted back and waved goodbye.

  “Take care.” I nodded at Herriot who let out a soft bark and tugged Ari away. I concentrated on the dog’s exit rather than his owner.

  Men had always been an enigma to me. It took Yakim years to break me down and get me to accept him as my other half. And it wasn’t because of what Colt did to me. It had started with the death of my father who I never knew, and of a grandfather who he hadn’t made much of an impression on me, unlike Grandmother.

  The wine bottle had enough in it for another glass or two. Instead, I drank straight from the bottle, watching the Hahn house. By the time I finished the bottle, and was on the edge of drunk, it was time for my video chat with Yakim. Colt didn’t reappear, but unless my wine-glazed eyes played tricks on me, I swore I saw the curtains twitch in an upstairs’ room. Was he watching me, too?

  CHAPTER FOUR

  I didn’t play sports in high school. It had been a mistake on my part, not just because it kept me on the edges of popularity, but it made me lazy. Even though I didn’t eat junk food or sweets, I wasn’t active enough other than taking mandated phys ed classes. By the time I graduated high school, I was two sizes bigger than the average.

  It all changed by college. Back in Cartleigh I could sit still for hours and enjoy the thoughts in my head. But within weeks of graduating high school and dealing with the aftermath of what Colt did to me and the consequences of his actions, I couldn’t sit still or concentrate. I had been at Amherst for a month, and I was close to calling Grandmother to tell her I wanted to leave. But if I did, I would end back up in Cartleigh, and no way in hell I would return there even with Colt away at college. If he had gotten accepted to Amherst, like me, I would have run into him. But then again, he wouldn’t have taken out his anger on me for not getting accepted to Amherst, while I did.

  To escape the stress and constant anxiety shadowing me, this form of PTSD I couldn’t shake. I had taken up running, and it helped clear my head when I ran almost every day around Pratt Field track. I loved hearing my heart pound in my ears and being out of breath. When I finished, everything around me was larger and out of focus, and a nonstop tingling sensation took over my body, making me lie down and finally be able to sleep.

  I ran and went to class and spent most of the rest of the time in my room, some days not eating in the cafeteria and just sticking to energy bars to keep me from passing out. Running helped with my adrenaline and gave me some much-needed energy. I didn’t care I lost twenty pounds, and some of the guys on campus and in my class gave me approving looks—the same ones Colt once gave me. I didn’t want the attention, so I stopped wearing makeup and fixing my hair. I chose to wear the bulkiest clothes I owned, with the exception of my jogging gear because when I ran like others on the track, no one noticed me.

  As I took the bend for the eighth time, a cramp attacked my side and inner thigh. Gasping in pain, I hobbled off the track and sat on the grass, hunched over my knees while I waited for the pain to subside and to catch my breath. The cramping in my side changed to a throb, a constant reminder of the difficult procedure I had two weeks before starting classes.

  Someone sat next to me, much too close, showing off muscular legs in black mesh shorts. A male leg with a dusting of blond hair. I tensed, ready to flee despite being in public with people around to help if I needed it. Fear replaced reason, especially when a man invaded my space. But then the person
next to me said something under his breath. It wasn’t English.

  I sat up slowly, not only to stop my head from spinning but to give me time to figure out what to do. The person placed an unopened water bottle between us. I moved my gaze up to view the complete form and then the face. Yakim Zeldovich, from two of my classes. I knew of his growing celebrity status. His mother was a famous American ballerina and his father one of the richest men in Russia and a big philanthropist. Yakim had glossy blond hair, hypnotic green eyes, and a lean body with muscles in all the right places. He started a trend on campus with the boys by wearing dress shirts instead of T-shirts and jeans. But now he wore running shorts and a gray T-shirt emblazoned with Amherst Mammoths in purple. He filled out his T-shirt quite well.

  “What did you say when you sat down?”

  He balanced on his palms and crossed his ankles. “Yy v bezopasnosti. It means you’re safe in Russian.”

  I wanted to say I recognized his accent, but I may have tricked myself into thinking it because he was half-Russian. “Must be nice to speak fluent Russian.”

  Something like surprise flickered in his eyes. He didn’t think I recognized him? The corner of his mouth lifted, and he sniffed. “I also speak English fluently.”

  “That’s obvious. As you can tell, I speak English very well.”

  “You’ll learn to speak Russian as well.” He held out his hand. “I’m Yakim Zeldovich from your Statistics and Psychology class.”

  His tone changed to embrace a European, or I guess it was, Russian accent. But I didn’t mind. He had a welcoming voice with a slight rumble to it.