Tasteless (23 page)

“What’s the problem?” she asked, pulling his hands from his eyes.

“You know that thing is totally see-through, right?” he said, his gaze still skyward.

“What’d you expect?” Rye laughed.  “You were the one teasing me about having lingerie on.  So here it is.”

“Okay,” Sam said, turning his head slightly towards her.  “I’m going to look at it again, is that alright?”

“I gave you permission when I opened the robe,” Rye said.  “Why are you acting so weird?”

“You don’t think there’s anything weird about sitting out on a balcony with some guy who’s not your boyfriend in your lingerie?”

“I probably should, but I don’t.”

“Fine then,” Sam said, laughing as he turned completely to her.  He sat up, looking down at her again.  He smirked, biting his knuckle as he let his eyes run down the length of her body.

“Okay, now it’s weird,” she said, closing the robe.

“Stop rushing me,” he laughed, grabbing her wrists and pulling them apart.  Rye bit her lip, surprised by his strength and amused by his insistence.  She watched as he seemed to savor the sight of her.  His lips parted and the playfulness in Sam’s eyes suddenly went out, replaced by unmistakable lust.  She could feel herself growing nervous as he slipped out of his normal self and into one she had yet to see.

Suddenly, she felt him pushing her down against the cold metal, a hand bracing her by the back of her neck.  Scared, she grasped the metal gate behind her to keep her balance.

“Sam! Be careful,” she exclaimed.  He had lowered his lips to her neck, softly brushing them down to her collarbone.  Her breath was jagged, half from her fear of falling and half because Sam’s free hand had found itself under the lace of her halter.  She gasped as he ran his thumbs gently over her, her thighs tensing against his hips.

Overwhelmed, she tipped her head back and closed her eyes.  She felt faint.  She sucked air in as quickly as she could but just when she thought she had caught her breath, Sam’s mouth was on hers.  He parted her lips with his, biting softly at her lower lip as he pulled away slowly.  Her eyes fluttered open to see his mischievous smile as he ran his hands up the side of her legs, hooking them over his shoulders.  He pressed his lips to the inside of her thighs as he kept his eyes locked on hers, seemingly asking her permission to continue.

When Rye nodded, he smiled, slowly dragging his hot, parted lips up the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, his tongue occasionally flickering against her.  She let out a quick giggle, trying to be patient as she watched him enjoy the tease.  When she felt him slip his fingers under the waistband of her underwear, she let out a moan of anticipation.  She could feel Sam tense at the sound while he tore at the lace, eventually ripping it clear off.

Rye looked down to see the skimpy lace fabric fall between the slats of the fire escape and into the potted plants of the apartment two floors down.  She gasped, covering her mouth before looking up at Sam.  He was laughing now as he knelt on the step below her, squinting down at the lingerie-covered flowers below them.

In that moment, with her ankles locked behind Sam’s neck, she couldn’t help but think that Jeremy was wrong.  What she was doing there with Sam was definitely worthy of the movies.  And yet, it was all real – unscripted and happening right that instant.

Suddenly, lights switched on from the apartment adjacent to theirs.  A middle-aged man stuck his head out, apparently awakened by their laughter.

“Hey!” he yelled.  “What the hell do you two think you’re doing?”

“Having sex, what does it look like,” Sam said back in a matter of fact manner.

“You better get inside or I will call the cops!” he threatened, though he didn’t immediately look away.  Sam laughed, shaking his head as he pulled Rye’s robe closed to cover her.

“Perv,” he muttered, pulling Rye back up.

“So what do we do now?” she asked.

“I normally wouldn’t mind putting on a free show, but I think he might actually call the cops after he’s done watching.”

Rye definitely didn’t want to get so worked up twice in a night with no payoff.  She looked at the open kitchen window before crawling back in.

“So… it’s good night then?” Sam asked, looking disappointed.  Rye listened for Jeremy’s snoring.  It was still there.

“Come inside,” she said.

“What?” he laughed, looking pretty shocked.  When Rye didn’t respond, he shrugged, crawling in after her.  “You don’t have to ask me twice.”

She ran over to the bedroom door, opening it a crack to check on Jeremy.

“Are you going to put something on?” Sam asked.

“What? Why would I do that?” Rye replied, shushing Sam with a finger to her lips.

“I don’t know? Because I assumed we’re in here so you can get dressed and we can go find a hotel.”

“Oh,” she said.  That
was
a better solution than what she had in mind.  But getting dressed and then in a cab and then checking into a hotel room seemed like more work than she wanted to do when she was already so worked up.  And Jeremy hadn’t stirred despite the commotion in his living room.  For a second, she felt bad for what she was about to do, but the moment she closed the bedroom door again she realized she couldn’t stop herself.

“So?” Sam asked as he zipped up his pants again.  “Where are we heading?”

“We’re staying here,” she whispered.

“That’s insane,” Sam said, buttoning his jeans.  “When did I become the sensible one here.”

“I might change my mind if we leave.”

“Okay, then,” Sam said, unbuttoning his pants and undoing his fly again with barely a transition.  Rye covered her mouth, stifling a giggle as she approached him.  She locked eyes with him as she lowered her hands to his, putting them to his sides.  She hooked her fingers on the underside of his boxers, tugging it down his hips.

She leaned her head up to kiss him, drawing him closer with her tongue.  He kissed back, his breathing desperate as he pushed her robe off and let it slip to the floor.  Every little sound they made had them looking over their shoulders at the bedroom door.

“This is fucked up,” Sam panted, despite smiling at his words.  He pulled off his shirt as she pushed him back towards the couch, sitting him down in front of her.  He grabbed her by the hips, pulling her in before tearing the slip from her body in one quick motion.

He wrapped his hands around the back of her thighs, parting them as he guided her over his body.  He moved his hands up to the curves of her backside, pulling her down gently against him.  She wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling her body draw him deeper into her with every rock of her hips.  Sam groaned, shuddering at the sensation and muffling the sounds of his pleasure in her warm skin.

As they continued, Rye realized she had forgotten entirely about her boyfriend in the other room.  She was overwhelmed by everything she was feeling – Sam’s strong grip on her hips, his hot mouth on her breasts.

But still, she couldn’t help but slip in a quick thought, wondering when it was exactly that she had become the type of person to do what she was doing.

And not even feel the slightest hint of guilt.

Jeremy may have been right that most people didn’t have the kind of sex you see in the movies.  But as she tipped Sam’s lips up to meet hers, delighting in every perfect move he made, she knew he was at least wrong about her.

Chapter 13

In the spirit of directness that Jeremy seemed so into, Rye decided to keep the words for him brief.

“We’re breaking up,” Rye said as she watched Jeremy put on his shoes.

“What?”

“There’s not a lot of room for interpretation there.”

“Why?” Jeremy asked, forgetting about his laces and looking up at her.  “Was this because of last night?

“Among other things.”

“We were the perfect partnership, we’ve known each other our whole lives – isn’t it ideal?”

“No,” Rye replied simply.

“Can I at least ask why?” he pleaded, looking pretty upset for someone who had felt so confident about being rude to her the night before.

“You suck in bed.”

“You don’t have to be a child about it,” Jeremy huffed, crossing his arms.  “Besides, I know plenty of women who would say otherwise.”

“Good for you,” Rye said, slinging her bag over her shoulder and heading out the door.

“Hey, you realize you’re not so great yourself,” Jeremy sputtered, looking as juvenile and child-like as Sam always said he was.  “The only reason why you think it’s bad is because you don’t know better.”

“I know better,” Rye replied.

As she made her way down the stairs, she recalled just
how
much better she really knew it was.  She was sad to make Sam leave, briefly wondering if she should just break up with Jeremy via a note so she could follow Sam home immediately.

“You should stay,” Sam had said reluctantly.  “I guess we owe him the decency of an in-person breakup when we just wrecked his couch.”

Rye skipped down Second Avenue, enjoying the sun and hopeful for her potential future with Sam.  She was sad that she couldn’t catch him before he went into work and even sadder that he had suggested she kept a distance from Lilac’s kitchen where he was now working.  But she understood his reasons.  She knew how delicately balanced his career was on what felt like his last chance.  Rye was just happy that she could now truly be there for him.

FORMER WORKERS AT POPPY & SAGE FACTORIES TELL OF WORK ABUSE

The Manhattan Local

September 15
th

Two unnamed workers at a downtown factory are accusing the company Poppy & Sage (owned and run by two sisters of the same name) of knowingly allowing inhumane working conditions for the factory workers that make their high-end clothes.

“There was no air.  We worked eighteen hours in rooms with no windows and no breaks – not for water, not for the toilet, not even for sleep,” said one of the workers to an interpreter.  “I watched a woman, not much older than me, pass out from the heat.”

In addition to these allegations, other workers have admitted to seeing large rats on site and expressed confusion over the retail price of the products they made.

“I did not know they were sold for so much,” an anonymous worker said.  “I cannot believe anyone would pay that much for what comes from here.”

YOUR POPPY & SAGE T-SHIRT MIGHT BE MADE OF RAT FUR

The Snarker

September 16
th

By now, you’ve probably read all the allegations made against Poppy & Sage and their little house of horrors.  Their loyal clientele stayed mum, that is, until investigators confirmed evidence that seemed to support the claims made.  While they and the company’s legal team insisted that it was not solid enough proof, citing the fact that just about every place in downtown New York is rat-infested, some celebrities have already taken to their social media pages to express their outrage.

“If it’s true, it’s incredibly sad that Poppy and Sage thought it was okay to force people to work like this,” said actress Angelica Moss on her Facebook page this morning.  “Join me in my boycott of their products to show them how we feel!” The post was liked by thousands.

Oh, Angie.  You probably knew this shit was going down before the news broke – because c’mon, what isn’t at least partially made my slave labor these days? But you go on with your pseudo-righteous self if it helps you sleep at night.

Sam was beginning to have trouble leaving for work, simply because he had to leave Rye behind in his bed.
  She had officially moved out of Jeremy’s and unofficially moved into Gemma and Damian’s.  With the Fall fashion events and tying up loose ends before the NBA pre-season, they weren’t home very much anyway.

Without them around, Sam could pretend he was a full-blown adult with a killer checking account, complete with an actual girlfriend.
  He let himself daydream as he watched Rye sleeping in the morning sun. 
I could do this
, Sam thought.  He had never thought he could be the relationship type, and yet here he was, so very happy to be a part of one.

And at work, in the tedious routine of preparing someone else’s recipes all day, he felt like the stable and responsible guy he never thought he would be.
  Sure, it didn’t have the adventure of starting something up on his own, doing things the way he wanted.  And sure, it wasn’t going to bring the same kind of money in as his past endeavors had promised, but it was nothing he had any right to complain about.  Even if it involved piping frosting lace all day.

By now, word had gotten out that he was working at Lilac.
  The people who frequented the restaurant couldn’t care about a reality show wash-up like him, and it seemed those outside the Lilac dining room walls had stopped caring as well.  He had also seemed to finally earn Hudson’s trust.  He even stopped in once to ask Sam about his life and how things were going, sounding genuinely curious about it.

So yes, his life was suddenly routine when he had vowed to everyone and himself that it never would be.
  But he supposed it didn’t feel so bad.  Especially now that he had someone to go home to.

When he finished up that night, he skipped out the backdoor of Lilac and strolled happily towards the corner to hail his cab back to Brooklyn.
  Though the streets were pretty empty, there didn’t seem to be a whole lot of available cabs.  He stood there, watching as car after car went by.

H
is phone had apparently died somewhere between him leaving the locker rooms and going outside.  So Sam walked back towards the restaurant, hoping someone there could call him a car.

But before he reached the back door, he felt someone grab him by the collar, throwing him to the ground.
  Shocked, he looked up to see Warner hovering over him, his hand balled into a fist.

“You thought you could avoid me?” Warner asked.

“Why would I need to avoid you when you’re no longer a part of my life,” Sam said, jumping up to his feet.  As they stood face to face, Sam could smell a whiff of alcohol on his breath.

“You knew I would find you eventually,” he hissed.

“I can’t do anything for you buddy,” Sam said, walking around him.  “Now if you’ll excuse me.”  Warner turned, grabbing Sam by the shoulder again.  Sam turned sharply, shoving Warner hard enough to topple him to the ground.

“You ru
ined everything,” Warner slurred.  “You wasted not only your own efforts, but everyone’s around you.  Don’t you see what you lost? And for what? Your ethics? Your feelings for my daughter?”

“I’m happy with my decision,” Sam replied.

“For now,” he continued, rolling himself up to a sitting position on the concrete.  “But what happens when you realize you’ve made the biggest mistake of your life? I may not have made my sale, but I still have everything.  So without the diner, I am still
everything
.”  He pushed himself up off the ground, dusting his hands on his pants.  “I just want you to know that when we rescued you from your unemployment, you were nothing but pond scum.  You were a wannabe.  You may have been famous but you were broke off your ass and everyone knew it.  The only reason why you had friends was because everyone felt sorry for you and partying with you was easier on putting you on suicide watch.”

“You couldn’t have it more wrong,” Sam laughed, studying the madman in front of him as he crossed his arms.
  “I’m about to call myself a cab home.  And I’m willing to extend an olive branch here by calling you one as well, since you seem to need it.”

“I don’t need your help,” Warner hissed.
  “I’m not some pathetic little shit like you, running around begging for employment.  I worked for everything I have today.  I’m not some leech.”

“You could have just said ‘no thanks,’” Sam said, getting his keys out to unlock the kitchen door.

“You’ll never become anything,” Warner slurred, seemingly desperate to hurt Sam’s feelings.  Sam shrugged, almost feeling sorry for him.  “You know how I know? Because of all of my children, you picked the biggest fucking screw-up.”

“Excuse me?” Sam asked, turning to him.
  He shook his head, not believing what he had just heard.

“You heard right,” Warner laughed.
  “I should have known you were worthless when you two started getting along.  Who deflects to someone like Rye? What has she done in her life to earn any respect from you?”

“Don’t you think you’ve screwed her over enough?” Sam propped the kitchen door open before turning to face Warner fully.
  “Don’t you think you lead her onto believe something completely untrue for long enough that you can fucking cool it with those insults?” Warner smiled, satisfied with Sam’s reaction.

“Joke’s on you, Sam,” Warner said.
  “Don’t come crawling to me when you two worthless souls shack up in a cardboard box on the Bowery.”  Sam sent a quick fist into Warner’s mouth, knocking him to the ground again.  He could feel the warm trickle of blood running down his knuckles.  He looked down to see Warner tending to his chipped tooth.

“
Rye is finally happy and surrounded by people who actually care for uer,” Sam replied.  “So
stay the fuck out of our lives.
”  When he was satisfied that Warner probably wasn’t hurt too bad and wouldn’t be following him in, he turned towards the kitchen door again.  To his horror, Hudson Gunn stood there with his arms crossed.  And it didn’t take long for Sam to realize he had seen the whole thing.  Sam stood frozen, staring at Hudson’s stern face as he held the door open, gesturing for Sam to go in.  Sam approached slowly, his head hanging as Hudson uttered the words he feared.

“We need to talk.”

~

Rye couldn’t believe what she was seeing when she stared at Sam’s text, telling her he wouldn’t be home that night or the days following.
  She showed it to Damian and Gemma who didn’t seem too concerned in their rush to get out the door.

“I don’t think he’s back in Hawaii which is a good sign,” Gemma said, gathering a bunch of her sketches into her bag.
  She kissed Damian quickly before flying towards the front door.  “Just give him some time, this is a rocky time of his life.”

Damian
watched as the door shut behind her.  He turned back to Rye, patting her on the shoulder.

“At least he’s answering your calls this time,” Damian said, poking at his bacon and eggs.

“Have you been talking to him?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged.
  “But it’s the same old stuff.  He won’t say where he is or why he lost his job.  He just needs a second to figure things out on his own.  It’s kind of been tough.”

“I just want to talk him through it,” Rye said.
  “I thought that was how relationships worked.  We’re supposed to be supporting each other.”

“Take it from a guy who has gone off the deep end before,” Damian smiled.
  “Even in relationships, even when with the best of your friends, there will be times where people need to be alone.”

“I guess I have trouble understanding,” Rye sighed, lowering her eyes to her oatmeal.
  “I spent so much time alone in Dutchess Plains that I can’t imagine why anyone would want to do it voluntarily.”

“But I’m sure you grew used to it eventually
and figured that there are upsides to solitude,” Damian replied.  “When there aren’t a thousand people offering you their thoughts, you can hear your own better.”

When Damian left later that day, Rye found herself alone with her thoughts.
  She had been so quick to trust Sam again and had been so happy to jump straight into another relationship without straightening out all the issues that still existed between them.  Rye figured they could be ironed out along the way, but she wasn’t sure how she would do that when he wasn’t even in the same room as she was.  Hell, he may not even be in the same city or state.

She had known Jeremy pretty well for all those years and she never could have predicted how their short-lived relationship would have ended.
  She had known her family all her life and she had no idea they were just using her.  What made her think she knew Sam well enough to be as content and peaceful as she had been for their first week as a couple? What made her think she could ever be truly happy?

Rye frowned, realizing that Damian was right about solitude – she was definitely able to hear her own thoughts better, but she wasn’t so sure she wanted to.

~

For every day that she spent in Gemma and Damian’s house without Sam, she felt a little bit guilty.
  She apologized for her intrusion daily, saying that she would be on the first rain back to Dutchess Plains as soon as they wanted her to be.  They insisted that she stay, saying that Sam would want to see her once he was ready to go home and Rye accepted their generous offer happily.  But after six whole days of Sam being gone, Rye woke up to find Gemma and Damian waiting for her on the couch downstairs.

“We’re thinking maybe it’s time to drive you back to Dutchess Plains,” Gemma said, frowning apologetically.
  Rye couldn’t even be upset.  She actually felt better to know that they were ready to let her go.  She felt kind of undeserving of their hospitality and generosity, especially since she did nothing for them in return.

Their car ride up was relatively quiet as Rye sat solemnly in the back, her overnight bag in her lap.
  She had bounced around quite a bit in the last couple of weeks, living more than she had lived in the last few years.  She figured it wasn’t the greatest loss; she was happy to have experienced it at all, but she was sad to know it was finally over.

As their car pulled into the dirt path leading towards the Somerville property, she recalled her father’s threat of taking the house away from her too.
  She wondered if he had done that yet, if he had maybe changed the locks already.  If that were the case, she would truly have no place to go… but she didn’t want to say that to Gemma and Damian.  She would probably sound like a panicked freeloader who wanted them to turn around and accept her back into their luxury home when they were already so close to the final destination.

She passed those familiar landmarks, still there after all these years – the knotted tree roots, the broken fence, the faded paper garlands.
  They felt different to her now – like gravestones instead of nostalgic markers.

Damian pulled up to the diner, which now apparently had an official parking lot instead of their old patch of dirt.

“Oh no,” Rye said.  “Do you mind just driving me down to the house? I don’t want to go inside.”

“I just saw a familiar face,” Damian said.
  “So I figured we should say hi.”  He got out of the car, going around the other side to let Gemma and Rye out as well.  For a moment, Rye was hopeful to see Sam, but she quickly saw that they were approaching someone else.

Mira and her husband Hudson were sitting at a table outside, waving at them as they ate the cakes on their plate.
  They stood up, pulling out the extra chairs around the table, telling them to sit.

“Sweetheart!” Mira called out, hugging her niece before quickly planting a kiss on Damian and Rye.
  “Join us.”

“Oh, no I shouldn’t,” Rye said, backing away.
  “I don’t want to intrude on a family occasion.”

“You’re no intrusion,” Hudson smiled.
  “And we can’t finish this cake alone.”  He gestured to the middle of the table where there sat a tall chocolate layer cake with coconut pecan frosting on top of it.  She cocked her head, recognizing it to be similar to her grandmother’s recipe.  Damian and Gemma sat down, happily digging into their servings.  Rye noticed that there was exactly one extra serving right in front of an empty chair.

As she sank slowly into her seat, her eyes darting around the knowing faces, she realized that she was possibly the only person who didn’t know what was happening.
  Hudson cut her a slice of cake and poured her some coffee as Mira put a hand to her shoulder.

“
This
is
very much a family occasion,” Mira said.  Her eyes were soft as they studied Rye.  She smiled, almost sympathetically for a moment, before quickly turning back to her happy self.  “And we would love to invite you to be a part of the family, if you’d like to be a part of it.”

Rye looked around, her eyes mis
ty as she stared at the image.

“Um,” she managed to utter, wiping her eyes with the back of her wrist.
  “Thank you for your kindness.  I appreciate the words, but I’m a little anxious still.”