The girl hesitated in front of the restaurant’s patterned glass doors. She removed her engagement ring with a twist and dropped the heart-shaped cubic zirconia into her purse. She closed her eyes, filling in the black with an image of her beloved. She missed the gray eyes that saw her without judgment. She missed the curly dark hair, the boyish face with its shadow of masculinity. He made her laugh the musical truth whenever her moods turned raw. She could just make out the feel of his breath on her face as his last words grazed her memory. “Don’t worry, my angel. We’ll be together again. Fifty-thousand dollars is all I need.”
“Aquamarine” was originally published in the December 2013 issue of the literary journal, The Fictioneer.
δ
The restaurant was chilly, but the meeting called for bare skin. The girl’s flesh protested with goosebumps.
The man had said to sit on the last stool at the far end of the bar. Her skirt was riding up her thighs. She straightened it. Then she straightened it again. She focused on her hands. She picked at the cuticle of her thumb until blood began to ooze around her fingernail. Frustrated, she dabbed the blood with a napkin, reminding herself that nothing had been decided, the decision was her own.
“Hello.”
“Hello,” she exhaled, her breath cut short. Standing tall at 6-foot-2, the man who addressed her wore his hair trimmed clean and conservative. His face was handsome: strong and rigid, his eyes light and piercing.
“I’m sorry,” the girl said, “but I’m waiting for someone.”
“Yes, I know. You’re waiting for me.”
She was bothered by the man’s smell. It was too close. She had grown unaccustomed. She willed her expression to remain fixed.
“Please stand up.” The man looked her over from top to toe, and the girl wondered just how calibrated his x-ray vision was.
The girl stood.
“How tall are you?” the man asked.
“Five-six.”
“Take off your shoes.”
She slipped off her shoes one by one. He moved in closer, as though to see if their bodies were a fit. The fabric of his gray silk button-down teased her unadorned neckline.
He paused. “Let’s sit down.”
δ
The day her beloved left, the girl had planned an elaborate meal. She called out his name as she entered with the groceries. When he did not respond, she assumed she was in for a surprise. Perhaps he might pop out from behind a door or have left lilies on the bed. Maybe he had drawn a bath for them both…but the bed was empty of flowers and the bath, dry, and although she scoured her apartment she found neither him nor a note.
She sat for two days by the phone, no food or water to break her fast… she waited.
δ
“You must be available at least four nights a week and one weekend day. You’ll escort me to functions and you’re to conduct yourself in an elegant manner. You are never to say no to me.”
“And my…responsibilities…do they continue into the bedroom?” the girl asked.
The man brushed his thumb across his bottom lip; a gesture the girl took to be involuntary. “I’m a generous partner in bed. You’ll be pleased. I like to have fun, but won’t compromise your safety.”
The girl dug the heel of her shoe into her shin, wondering if the bruise would be deep enough to last a week. “Will you hurt me?
The man’s lips twitched. “Only as much as you’d like.”
The girl lowered her eyes. “Why do you pay for it?”
“I don’t like to be questioned.” The man’s gaze shifted from the girl’s face to the far corner of the bar, where the cheapest tequila sat next to the most expensive whiskey and vodka. “When it comes to a business transaction, I never hear no.”
“You’re taking from a woman her most effective…talent. Her sexuality.” The girl lifted her glass to her mouth.
The man leaned towards the girl. “My goal isn’t to extinguish a woman’s sexuality, but to exploit it.”
“Then you have a lot to learn about a woman’s sexual nature.”
“Her ability to tempt.”
“More than that. Her ability to initiate.”
The man laughed softly. “A woman never instigates sex. You slip on that skirt and fasten your pretty heels because that’s what men want. You may think the desire originates in you, but it doesn’t…you’re simply following the string.”
“Not so with the Bonobos.”
“The Bonobos?”
“The Bonobo apes. The females initiate sex and the males have to fend off their come-ons.”
“I think you’ve misunderstood the theory of evolution. Comparing humans to monkeys doesn’t hold.”
The girl uncrossed her legs, swiveling round her bar stool to face him. “If a woman grabs you by the balls and demands sex, you really have no say in it. Your dick is begging you to put out, and your mind is usually the weaker competitor. A woman on the other hand finds it easier to say no. So why are you so threatened by a woman’s will?”
The man paused. “I thought perhaps you were too young to be affected, but I see it has you too.”
“What. What has me?”
“Softness in a woman has faded into myth.”
The girl looked down at her drink, gone except for a swirl of wine floating at the bottom of the glass.
“You look so gentle. The way your hair curves around your shoulders and your nose turns up with just enough attitude. But inside, you’re different. Hard and stubborn.” The man motioned for the check.
The girl looked up from her drink. “What do I get in return?”
“In return? I’ll set you up in a nice apartment, pay for any schooling, and give you an allowance of $3500 a month.”
The girl calculated for a moment.
“I’m not in school, and I already have a nice apartment. I’ll do it for $6000 a month.”
The man muffled a laugh and placed a hundred on top of the bar. “My dear, you are delightful, but there are a lot of girls who have answered my ad. Now, why should I pay you double?”
“Because I will bend for you.”
“Please don’t mistake me. I don’t want all of you.”
“Of course not. You want only the best of me. I promise to give you that.”
The man clenched his jaw. “Why don’t you smile?”
“Because I’m not happy.”
The man rose from the table.
The girl pictured her beloved and let a smile play across her lips, dusting the corner of her eyes with soft lines. The man took her face in his hands and kissed her hard. “So it is set then.”
δ
When at last the phone rang the girl was three days without nourishment or rest.
“Eat,” her beloved demanded.
At the sound of his voice, she gripped the phone tightly. Such a sweet command the girl mused, comforted that her beloved knew her patterns so well. The next words she pried out with a chisel. “Where are you?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Why have you left me?”
“They forced me. Please be strong. Don’t worry, my angel. We’ll be together again. Fifty-thousand dollars is all I need.”
δ
The silk dress swayed across her thin hips. The man’s touch tickled the fabric across her back. He held her hand and their steps echoed in sync as they crossed the lobby to the lounge. Crystal, diamond-drop chandeliers and gold-colored lounges provided an opulent backdrop. The girl thought this must be what the inside of a Cristal bottle would look like…if one were trapped in it. She sighed with longing…how she does love champagne.
The girl watched with muted volume as the man entertained his audience with the tale of his latest merger, his monogrammed gold cufflinks winking at her with every gesture. While the rest of the party tried to crack the code that had made the man millions, she followed his cufflinks. Deciphering the tone of each of his gestures, the girl nodded her head and laughed demurely at all the right moments. She decorated his tale quite charmingly, she knew. She focused on his hands until their elegance struck her as grotesque and then shifted her gaze to a woman’s ruby necklace. The girl clasped her costume pearls with her free hand, resisting the urge to wrap them tightly round her neck and pull.
She squeezed the man’s arm with just the right amount of pressure and gave him a kiss on the cheek before excusing herself to the ladies’ room. She locked the door and glided toward the sink. She tossed her purse onto the countertop, ignoring the droplets of water that marked the delicate silk. She washed her hands, scrubbing them thoroughly. Staring into the mirror, she clutched the countertop. She touched her lips with a manicured finger, picking off a fleck of lipstick. Then another.
Moments later, she realized she was almost violently scratching off her lipstick, and that wouldn’t do. Shaking, she reached for her purse, and, steadying her hand, began applying a fresh coat.
δ
The once smooth silk of her beloved’s voice had turned crackly.
“You don’t sound the same,” the girl said.
“Is the connection bad, my love?”
“No, the connection is clear, but your voice. It has grains of sand stuck in it. Why can’t you leave that desert country?”
“Do you remember the first time we met?”
“Of course I do. Don’t ask me silly questions.”
“Yes, but you don’t remember through my eyes,” her beloved soothed.
The girl dug her nails into her naked thighs, pleased when the imprints remained. “I can barely remember the specks in your eyes, much less the way I looked through them.”
“Your hair was the color of this sun-kissed sand, your skin the sheen of honey, and your eyes, your eyes made me whisper.”
The telephone’s one-note dial tone blared with perfect pitch. The girl cursed and threw the phone across the room, her beloved’s voice lost, the only sound the whir of her table fan spinning round.
δ
“Spread your legs,” the man ordered.
The girl spread her legs, annoyed by the moisture and heat that rose between them.
“Further.”
The girl pointed her toes and lengthened her muscles.
“Look at me. How can I get what I need, when you refuse to give me your eyes?”
The girl turned her face towards him.
He paused. “You are beautiful.”
The girl steeled her expression.
“Put your hands above your head,” the man instructed. “No, not so much energy. Relax the fingers.” The man grunted. “It’s not working. Take off your shirt.”
The girl took off her shirt, slipping it over her head.
“Now, the hands again.”
The girl slid her hands up her body and over her head.
The click of the camera told the girl she had at last mastered the pose.
δ
The girl lay on her back, a soft white sheet her only companion. She gently stroked her thigh and let her hand wander to her clitoris, massaging it firmly. The girl struggled for an image of her beloved’s face, but the picture kept turning. She squeezed her breasts, imagining that the fingers were his, but the caresses remained cold. An image of the man surfaced. Startled, she realized her caresses had turned painful. Her breasts were etched with scratches.
She jumped at the sound of the ringing phone.
“I need you,” the man said.
The girl inhaled.
δ
The girl was adjusting better than she had intended. Here, among the wealthy and noted, cocooned inside oak walls and high ceilings, she danced. Round and round she spun; her jeweled eyes avoided the searching expression of the man who held her close.
“Let’s go outside. There’s something I’d like to show you,” the man said, leading her away from the crowd and onto the terrace.
The night air greeted her with an icy slap and she clutched as if at an invisible wrap around her shoulders.
“I bought you something.” The man removed a small black box from his pocket.
The girl’s expression turned sour but softened when she thought that perhaps she could sell the gift. She opened it without sentiment, but a flash of tenderness overwhelmed her when she saw her eyes reflected in the lucid blue of the aquamarine gem. The cut of the stone spiraled into diagonals, splitting her gaze in half and pulling her thoughts back into focus. She looked at the man with reproach. “A monetary bonus would have been more appropriate than a trinket, I think.”
“This trinket brings out the light in your eyes. Let me put it on you.”
The girl lifted her hair.
“Sailors wore amulets of aquamarine. They believed it inspired them with the bravery to battle any storm.”
The girl shivered as the man hooked the clasp. “I don’t plan on going to sea anytime soon. Unless you’re forcing me to go on a cruise?”
“So brave on the surface but you forget how close we’ve been. I can feel you inside. You don’t need to fear anything with me.”
“I don’t fear you.”
The man scooped her hands into his, kissing her tattered cuticles. “No. But you fear when you’re not with me. Now I am always here.”
The girl pulled her hands away. The man lifted her chin and brushed her lips with his.
“Are you happy?”
“Enough.” The girl remembered to smile.
δ
“I’m sorry, but the line is still busy,” the operator said.
The girl swore, hanging up the receiver. “He always answers at this time!” She pictured her beloved in some kind of danger. Then, jealousy began to invade the sane parts of her mind.
The girl picked up the telephone with a fresh start. She dialed the numbers with ease. Greeted by the sound of a busy signal, she clenched her jaw. Fingers dialing, busy signal answering. Fingers dialing, busy signal answering. Fingers dialing… “Hello,” the man answered on the first ring.
“Hello,” the girl’s eyes popped open, confused by the man’s deep voice. “What do you want?” the girl asked.
“You called me.”
The girl looked down at her fingers disapprovingly. “Yes, I suppose I did.”
“Why?”
“I guess…I guess I need you.”
δ
“You’ve been looking at that painting for the last twenty minutes,” the man observed.
“Girl Reading at Table. 1934. Pablo Picasso,” the girl read aloud from the plaque. “I like it.”
“It’s one of my favorites also.” The man put a hand on her shoulder. “She was Picasso’s favorite mistress.”
“Are you sure she was his favorite?”
“Yes. Look at the delicacy of the brushstroke.”
“I think she is hideous looking. He has distorted what were probably her finest features.”
“He had no choice.”
“Why would a man disfigure his woman?”
“In order to remain in control.”
“What is the best part of me?” The girl looked up into the man’s eyes.
“Your laughter.”
“But you’ve never heard me laugh.”
“Yes.”
A soft chuckle escaped the girl’s voice and, trembling, she clutched the lapels of the man’s coat and kissed him hard.
δ
“I almost have what you need.”
Her beloved paused. “This money. Where is it coming from?”
Her beloved’s words rang too sharp. The girl pressed the receiver tightly to her ear and concentrated instead on the low humming. His words blunted into a soft echo that bounced, not pricked, against her senses.
“Who’s giving you this money?”
“I’ve earned it.”
“How?”
The girl plucked a single strand of gray from her bangs. Her first. A sign of stress, she thought. She blamed her beloved. “Just an extra job…at night…that’s all.”
“I’m not taking your money!”
“But I did this for you!” The girl’s voice had lost its sweetness.
“Do you love me?”
She considered. “I’m better with you.”
The call ended.
δ
They lay spent. The man licked the beads of sweat that had collected between the girl’s breasts. She smiled and tousled his hair. Never before had she been so satisfied, she thought.
“Where shall we go? Spain? Italy?”
“I like it here just fine.” The corners of the girl’s mouth threatened to turn down.
“But this is your choice. Surely you have a preference.”
The girl rolled onto her stomach. “I told you. I can’t travel.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Whichever you prefer.”
“Ah, but you can’t say no to me, and I wish to escape.”
The girl turned to face the man. The playful veil lifted from her eyes and her smile hardened into a frown.
“Why is your heart so hard?” the man asked.
“Hard doesn’t mean unaffected. Glass is hard and it breaks.”
“You surrender to me in bed…”
The girl brought her knees into her chest. “Only because I cannot help myself.”
The man shot out of bed, his long fingers finding distraction in his hair. “This was not our deal. You said I could have the best of you!”
“I’ve given you all that is inside of me to give.”
The man paced and the girl wondered just how much his insides were burning. “I want it given freely. Not because of our arrangement, but because you love me.”
“Do I?” the girl asked, sincerely wanting to know. “I might.”
The man kneeled in front of her. “I can’t go back. You’ve ruined me.”
“I know.” The girl’s eyes blurred with tears. “I willed it.”
The man wrapped her hands in his. “Marry me.”
“I can’t,” the girl whispered.
“Marry me!”
The girl found her voice. “Our deal is over.”
She ducked as the glass vase shattered against the wall.
δ
She leaned against the car, searching the faces of the arriving passengers. The girl fingered the gem around her neck, and saw the shadow of her beloved waving in the distance, refusing to materialize even now. She embraced the solid gold chain and pulled fiercely, breaking the clasp. She let the aquamarine gemstone fall from her hands and walked towards her beloved. The girl marveled at the feel of wet teardrops staining her cheeks. They embraced forever, it seemed. Her beloved peered into her eyes, seeing her clearly. He smiled, his lips not as full as the girl had remembered. He kissed her lashes.
δ
One night with her beloved, and never before had she felt so unsatisfied, she thought, as she twisted her faux diamond engagement ring on her finger round and round. She watched, distantly, as it cut the skin, the torn flesh clinging to the ring’s merry-go-round, and her frown hardened into a smile.
