Sunday, October 21, 2012

Damian Sacrifice #6


As Cara stopped in front of the studio, her gaze drifted to the tiny box settled against the passenger seat.  A diamond pendant.  As a birthday gift.  To a friend.  What the hell was Brian thinking?  Despite the fact that he wasn’t hurting for money, it was too much.  She needed to return it.

For the better part of a year now, her parents had been trying to set her up with Brian.  He was good-looking, had a successful career, and was already like family to them.  A good catch, they said.  But, she just wasn’t attracted to him.  They were close friends, nothing more.  And Brian had always said he felt the same way.  No way could she believe him now.

Cara wrenched the car door open and snatched the box off of the seat, slipping it into her purse.  While she didn’t want the thing, she couldn’t leave it in the car for someone to take.

She entered the building, her eyes resting on the sheet draped over an unfinished sculpture in the back of the room.  Not a commission, but her own personal piece.  Something she’d been working on for months, between clients.  A way to cleanse her creative palate. 

What the hell was she going to do about Brian?

She was jumping to conclusions.  Was it even a real diamond?  Or real gold?  Maybe it was a piece of costume jewelry meant as a joke or something.  Yeah.  That must be what it is.  And how’s life treating ya over there on the banks of the river Denial?

“Oh, shut up.”  Cara muttered to the empty room.  Great.  She was arguing out loud with herself.  Next stop, a padded room.

What she really needed was a distraction.

The phone rang, making her jump, and the paint-streaked sheet slipped to the floor.

What if it’s Brian?  Oh God, she wasn’t ready to deal with him.  Better to let the answering machine get it.

She grabbed a mug from the cabinet and poured a cup of coffee.  As she stirred the second spoonful of sugar, a deep voice sounded through the machine, echoing in her ears.

“Hi, Cara.  It’s Damian.  Um, we met last night...”

Not Brian.  Damian.  She all but slammed the cup down as she scrambled to answer the phone, spilling hot coffee all over her hands and the counter in the process.  But she’d worry about the mess and the second-degree burns later.  Right now, she was a teenage girl and the captain of the football team was calling her.  Well, perhaps he was more like the resident bad boy than the all-American quarterback.

She nestled the receiver between her shoulder and ear, her fingers fumbling over the buttons on the machine to turn it off.

“Hello?  Damian, are you still there?”  She could kick herself for the eagerness in her voice.

“Yes, I’m here.  Is everything okay?  You sound out of breath.”

He did have a knack for making her breathless.  The image of his dark eyes staring down at her after their kiss last night had her knees dangerously close to buckling.  Again.

“Um, I’m fine.  Just, uh, spilled a little coffee on myself.  I’m not the most coordinated person this early in the morning.”  A nervous laugh escaped before she could stifle it.

“You didn’t burn yourself, did you?” 

“No, it’s only a mess.  So, what has you calling my studio this morning?”

“No small talk at work, huh?  Okay then.  Meet me for lunch today.”

Was she dreaming?  Perhaps her hearing needed to be checked?  They’d only met last night and he was already asking her out on a second date.

Well, you were ready to pounce on his pelvis the moment he kissed you.  At least he is trying to follow good dating protocol.

“Cara?”

Say something you idiot.  Like ‘Why yes, Damian.  I would love to meet you for lunch.  Thank you ever so much for asking.’  Even a simple ‘okay’ would do the trick.

“Oh... I would love to, honestly.  But...”

“But?”

“I really need to work today.  It’s not for a client, but what I do for a kind of mental reset.  If I don’t do something just for fun in between, my art turns to crap.  I know that may sound silly—

“Not at all.  But you still gotta eat, don’t you?  How about I bring lunch to you and hang out for a little while?”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that.  You’d be bored to death sitting here while I work.”

“Then you seriously underestimate how appealing it would be to watch you move.”

 Her cheeks burned.  Why did he have to be so damn good at that?

“Cara, if you don’t want me to come by, it’s okay.  We can do lunch another time.”

“No, I do want you.  To come.  Over, I mean.  Come over.  Shit.”  She covered her eyes, shaking her head.  Someone should just kill her now.  There was no recovering from that one.  “Lunch would be nice.  Thanks.”

Damian laughed.  “I knew what you meant.  So, what are you craving today?”

“Actually, there’s a deli right down the street from here—Murphy’s.  They make a fantastic BLT.  And they have the best pickles.  You been there before?”

“No, but I think I know where it is.  On James Avenue, right?”

“That’s the place.”

“Then I’ll be there around noon, if that’s good for you.”

“Works for me.  But, I gotta warn you.  I’ll probably be a mess when you get here.”

“And that works for me.  See you soon, beautiful.”  The line clicked as he hung up.

She set the phone in its cradle, forcing her fingers to let go.  Butterflies were going to burst out of her stomach any second now.  Damian had called her, like he’d promised.  And, he was coming over.  She was going to see him again in just a few hours.

It took every ounce of strength she had to focus on her work, but she’d drive herself crazy if she just sat there in la-la land until Damian showed up.

At ten ‘til noon, a knock sounded at the door, signaling another swarm of butterflies to flutter around.  He was early.

Cara looked down at her herself, wincing.  Smudged shirt.  Paint wedged under her fingernails.  And she didn’t have to see her hair to know it was breaking free of the ponytail she’d put it in.  He is the perfect man if he doesn’t haul ass the other way when I open the door.

“Just a minute.  I wasn’t expecting you yet.”  She darted to the sink to freshen up.  After washing her hands, she pulled the scrunchie out of her hair, giving it a quick tousle to loosen the curls.

Cara rushed to the door, unable to contain her excitement.  As she threw it open, she stumbled back, the blood rushing from her head.

“Who were you expecting, Cara?  Obviously not me.”

“Brian, what are you doing here?”

“Are you gonna invite me in, or make me stand out in the hallway all day?”

“Sorry.  Come on in.  I was just cleaning up for lunch.”  She headed to the table in the corner of the room.  Right for her purse.

“So, did you open your birthday present yet?”  His tone was strange.  Distant.  So unlike him.

Cara sucked in a deep breath, her back to him as she searched for the small box.  “Yes, I did.  We need to talk about that.  I can’t accept the necklace.”

“You’re right.  We do need to talk.”

The click of the deadbolt made her turn around.  The air rushed from her lungs as he tackled her, his icy fingers squeezing her throat, his hips crushing her into the floor.

“And you aren’t leaving here until you see reason.  I will show you we belong together.”

 

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