Forbidden Fruit (5 page)

I turned around, embarrassed for his audacity, and played innocently stupid. "I'm sorry Mr. Manning?" He was much younger than his wife, still in his thirties I believe, with thin, sharp facial features, and a cap of yellow hair. He wore a constant smug expression on his face and cheated on his wife every chance he got.

"Lily," he teased shaking his head with a tsk. "I think you know exactly what you’re doing." His smile was disturbing and his rapacious ogling projected a feeling of conquer and dominance. I had no idea what his particular fetish was, nor did I want to know. I didn’t know much about sex, especially the kinky and likely illegal aspects. His eyes promised to teach me. It scared the hell out of me. It was as if he was testing the waters with me, seeing if I would let him in. I know my face turned a thousand shades of red as I looked down at my feet, trying to find a way out of his pedophilic fantasy without causing a scene.

He caught my chin and lifted my head, “Ah, you are interested.” I didn't move. My hand twitched at my side as I fought the urge to slap him in front of everyone. I wasn’t interested; I was frightened. The worst part was, I believe my fear of him actually turned him on. Instead of ruining Rose’s party, I said as calmly as I could, through clenched teeth, "Mr. Manning, I believe your wife is waiting for this." I shoved the glass of red wine in his free hand, spilling a little. He looked down at his wet hand, whipped out his folded pocket handkerchief and wiped at the liquid. Then he smiled slowly and whispered, "I like this game you play." He reached for my face and slid his thumb over my bottom lip.

I jerked my head out of his hand and swiftly walked away. My heart was pounding and my blood was beginning to boil, when I ran right into someone. Right after my head hit his shoulder, I immediately began apologizing, completely disoriented.

"Going somewhere?" a familiar young voice asked with amusement. I smiled with relief. The handsome face of my date was standing in front of me wearing a very nice navy blue suit.

I chuckled with him as I rubbed my forehead. I hit him harder than expected. "Are you okay?" I asked.

"Of course," he smiled. I knew he was lying, my head was throbbing and his shoulder had to be as well.

"You look beautiful," he assessed as he glanced at my dress.

I flushed again, ensuring my face was now a ripe shade of purple, and said, "Thanks. I'm glad you came."

"Me too," he grinned.

I twisted my hands, thinking of what to say and how to forget about the Mr. Manning episode. I conspicuously looked behind Jason to make sure the creep twin wasn’t accompanying him. He wasn’t. Thank God.

“
You okay?” Jason asked.

“
Yeah, I’m fine, why?” I retorted with too much defense to be believable.

“
You seem bothered,” he noted.

“
Well, your shoulder did just give me a minor concussion,” I teased. He laughed genuinely, eyes sparkling.

Then I decided, "Come on, I’ll show you around."

He gestured for me to take his arm. How gentleman-like, I thought.

I pointed out many of Rose’s guests and told him anything amusing I could recall. As we made our way through the crowd, a cold, skinny hand grabbed my upper arm.

I turned to say hello to Rose's best friend and was engulfed in a cloud of smoke. Mrs. Stuart was a dangerously thin old woman, with fiery red hair. She always had a clove cigarette in her hand, which she swore made her sexier. She was a dirty old woman in the sense that nothing was off limits. She had no qualms with dating married men and exercising her right to do whatever the hell she wanted because she was old, rich, and powerful. I had moral issues with the way she lived her life, but I still liked her. She was the type of lady who had fun wherever she went and was a riot to be around. "Ms. Stuart! You made it!"

"Lily, don't be ridiculous! Would I miss Rose's birthday?” She leaned in closer to me, “I mean how many times does a woman turn thirty?" she laughed.

"Ah, so it is thirty again?" I teased.

"Why I have no idea what you're talking about!" Ms. Stuart winked at me and then turned to Jason. She didn't bother to hide her approval of his looks. "And this is?" she asked with a wickedly cocked eyebrow.

I flashed Jason an embarrassed grin and introduced him, "This is Jason." She held her hand out for him to take in a flirty handshake. He didn't miss a beat. He took advantage of the opportunity to shine. He proceeded to kiss the back of her hand as if she were some kind of royal.

She bought it. Glowing from head to toe, she batted her eyes at him as if she were a teenager. I think I embodied all the embarrassment of the situation. Clearly, the other two had no shame.

"Why Lily, you will have to bring this one home more often," Ms. Stuart pinched his cheek and gave him a look that totally devoured. I think if he were a cherry pie, she would snatch him away and savor every bite as she crouched in a corner, unwilling to share. I have to admit, it was kind of creepy. I was glad when Rose made her grand entrance and sizzled the bizarre flirting between the teen and the old woman.

"Rose!" Shouts from everyone rung in a chorus. She walked in with her new boy toy, unsurprisingly young and handsome. My eyes lingered on the beautiful, flawless pearl dress she wore. But what was even more impressive was how she looked in it. For a woman her age, she was hot!

"Oh my!" she brought her hands to her mouth in apparent shock at the decor. She loved it! Working all afternoon for this moment was totally worth it when I saw the sincere delight on her face. She was a princess in a fairytale ball in honor of her. Friends immediately crowded her from all sides, and I could no longer see her. I tried to tame the welling in my eyes, blinking rapidly and taking deep breaths. I looked back at Jason. He was smiling at me.

"Nice job," he complimented.

"Thanks," I accepted.

I looked around for a distraction as he was trying to put me in another one of those eye embraces. I felt flighty around him, nervous. "Can I get you anything to drink? Some wine maybe?" Then I added, "Sorry, but we don’t have any beer."

"Wine is great," he affirmed.

I proceeded to the bar and asked the server for two glasses of desert wine, my favorite. I hadn’t developed a taste for the ‘complex’ wines as I have been told, though I prefer to call them bitter.

I know what people think. She’s only seventeen, how is she getting away with drinking like this? Well, it’s simple really. The wealthy drink wine like I drink sweet tea. It’s what’s for dinner and that usually includes teenagers...at least under Rose's roof. I guess she remembers a time when the drinking age was much lower and doesn't see anything wrong with it.

As the night wore on, Jason and I had several glasses of wine, and I was feeling more than a little tipsy. I felt relaxed and carefree. I suggested we take a walk to get away from all the business and money jabber that those parties always turned into.

I bravely took Jason's hand and led him out the front door. The cool breeze from the Charleston battery grazed my skin like a silk scarf. I took a deep breath of ocean air and sighed, "It feels awesome tonight."

Jason nodded his head in agreement beside me.

We crossed the street directly in front of my house toward the inner harbor. Jason leaped onto the four-foot tall ledge that was the battery walkway. I stared at the barrier, then I assessed the tingling sensation in my legs and arms, and lastly the spiky heal situation on my feet. I had a hard time pulling myself over the ledge sober, much less in this condition.

Jason bent down and grabbed me under the arms. With a dizzy head, I discovered I was standing directly beside him.

"Wow!" I said in astonishment, "How did you do that?"

He looked perplexed.

"You just picked me up like I was nothing!" I couldn't believe the strength of this guy. I mean, he wasn't small but he wasn't nearly muscular enough to toss around over a hundred pounds!

Jason's expression was one of mixed emotions that was hard to read. I couldn’t be sure, but I think I offended him. Either way, he looked uncomfortable, so I dropped it. Considering my sobriety level, it was very possible I was making a big deal out of nothing. I tried to smooth over the moment, not wanting yet another date to go running for the hills.

"So, shall we?" I asked and found his hand ready for mine.

We strolled down the breezy walkway, one side beautiful old historic houses, and the other midnight black waves crashing into the battery walls. I tilted my head back, examining the clear night sky. Each star twinkled like tiny little diamonds on a black velvet bed of cloth. The wine had my eyes dancing and my body off balance. I laughed, completely carefree as I stumbled a little.

Jason was right there, with a hand supporting my back. His face eclipsed the sky as he leaned over me. There was hunger in his eyes. I felt his free hand sliding up my neck and supporting my tilted head. He was beautiful. That was all I could think as I gazed into his face, against the glittering sky.

When his face lowered and I felt his hot breath on my lips, I closed my eyes and parted them, welcoming his kiss. He was warm and tasted sweet from the wine…or maybe that’s just how he tasted. I felt my feet give way as his kiss melted me like southern honey. He held me in that incredible embrace as my insides fluttered like butterflies and my mind entertained thoughts that embarrassed even a drunken me.

The he stiffened. I could feel his entire body spring to life, alert. All sensuality gone, he tilted me back to a standing position. I swayed in place. When I saw his face, I could tell something had startled him though he was wearing a smile. "Are you okay?" I asked.

"Yes, I..." he glanced behind me for a brief second and then returned to my face, "I have to go. I told my parents I would be home early." His affect didn't match what he was saying. I was confused.

"Okay..." I said bewildered. One minute we were having the best kiss I had ever had and the next he was running off. Was there something about me that turned him away? Maybe I really did excrete some sort of “warning: death to all” pheromone.

He looked behind me once more and then made a hasty retreat. "I will see you at school Monday!" he called over his shoulder.

I watched, dumbfounded, as he quickly paced away from me and disappeared into the night.

I turned around, curious to see what he kept glancing toward.

A chill ran down my spine.

There was a fully cloaked figure standing on the battery not twenty feet from me. My mouth dropped open slightly as I took in the frightening presence. The dark cloak waved in the wind, though it managed to conceal the tall man beneath. I recently learned in psychology about the “fight or flight” response when people are placed in scary situations. I remember thinking I would be a serious flight risk if anything at all was terrifying because it made sense. Why wait around to see if you get mugged or murdered? Apparently I was wrong. My first thought was not to run as fast as I could, which would have been the logical response. Instead, I became angry that Jason left me there, in the dark, with a creepy “Jack the Ripper” type, without any warning. What kind of person does that?

It must have been the alcohol that made me so brave, because what I did next, was completely and utterly stupid.

I had a staring competition with the potential serial killer.

He stood there with shoulders squared toward me in a wide, dominant stance. I stood, in my slinky dress and pointy heals, with my bare shoulders squared at him. I had no idea what I was doing or what I was thinking. It was one of those moments when your rational mind is moved to the back burner and all you know is what you are feeling. My body was acting, and I was just along for the ride.

The cloaked man and I stared each other down for what seemed like an hour, but was probably a minute. Unquenched rage wafted from the folds of his coat. He was dangerous, and I just stood there in a sort of trance.

As the time passed, I wanted more and more to run, though it became less of an option. I thought for sure if I ran after challenging the bull, he would surely chase.

Just as my mind started to take back control of my body, I felt myself begin to shake. My legs no longer felt stable, and I found it increasingly difficult to breath. I was beginning to panic and had no idea how I was going to get away from a potential Ted Bundy.

I glanced around me, terrified.

The cloaked figure moved.

I gasped, sucking in cool, salty air. Then I watched him turn on his heel and simply walk away.

I stood there baffled for a minute, as I watched the figure retreat into the distance, down the long battery, eventually fading into the night.

With still shaking legs and a spinning mind, I walked back inside and called it an early night. I went to my room in a complete zombie-like state. I heard my name a few times and ignored each as I passed through the crowded parlor and made my way to my bedroom, where I felt safe.

I was walking with Bailey down the corridor on the way to our first class, complaining about Jason and trying to describe his odd behavior on the battery. She didn't seem like she found it odd, so I added the part about the Jack the Ripper standoff, sure she would be convinced something was wrong. When I mentioned the cloaked figure, her eyes enlarged with fear and she ran away from me, screaming down the hallway.