Marry Screw Kill(17)

“Cheers,” she says.

We clink glasses and she brings hers up to her red lips, kissing the edge. Much to my surprise, she doesn’t stop drinking until almost half of it is gone. She licks her lips, and I’m amazed at her performance. For one, it was sexy as f*ck, but dirty martinis are basically straight vodka and she drank it down like a pro.

I take a couple sips of my Jack while she drains the rest of hers. I’ve never witnessed a woman plow through a martini like that, not even in the hard drinking bars of the West Village. I wonder whether I should be impressed or worried.

“I don’t normally drink like that, but it’s been a day.” I swallow hard as she takes the stick-skewered olives and pops them into her perfect mouth. Watching her devour this drink has me sitting on the edge of my chair, wanting an encore. If she licks her lips, I don’t know what I’ll do.

“Want another one?” She nods enthusiastically and I push the breadbasket Jonathan gave us in front of her. “Okay, but you need something in your stomach before you have more.”

“Yes, sir.” What did she say? I sit back in my chair, taken aback. She must have me confused with James and his “obey me” shit.

As I watch her chew the piece of bread, a sobering thought hits me. I’ve never cared how drunk a woman gets when we’re out. I don’t even keep tabs. Feeling responsible for another person’s welfare is uncharted territory for me and she’s not even mine.

Two martinis and one Jack into our meal; I’m working through a damn good steak, but she’s only picking at her girlie salad. I ask her if it tastes bad, but she waves it off as not being that hungry.

I’ve been keeping the conversation easy and casual between us, hoping she loosens up. The martinis haven’t hurt, and I’m hoping the vodka works as a truth serum. I want her defenses down so I can ask her questions about her life with my uncle. Jonathan dropping so much information in my lap stoked my curiosity.

“Are you in school, Harlow, or working?” Her radiant beauty comes to life before me as she widens her bright blue eyes and grins from ear to ear. Her smile stops the world around me and takes my breath away. This one joyful smile means more to me than all the women in my past combined.

“I was working at a restaurant not far from here until I met James. I was saving up for school and a place to live on my own. I think I’ve convinced him to let me take some creative writing classes, though.” Her words come out quickly, and she appears truly happy for the first time tonight. “I love writing, especially poetry. My mother used to write out my poems before I could even read. I don’t ever remember not writing.”

“That’s awesome. You know your talents. Not everyone is so lucky. So, you’re going to enroll at the local campus?”

“I’ll take classes online. James prefers it that way. Plus, the local campus revolves around science and medicine.”

He prefers and she obeys. I think I’ve got their routine down now. She’s at home alone with nothing to do but sit there and wait for him to come home to The Fortress, as she called it. She might as well wear prison garb instead of her sexy as hell dress.

“Will you miss having the personal interaction with an instructor and other students?”

“It would be nice to hear a lecture or openly discuss a book with others.” There is a longing in her voice that turns her eyes sad again, the light vanishing. Gone is her enthusiasm from five seconds ago. It proves to me she’s lonely as hell. My heart feels heavy for her and I can’t seem to shake wanting that beautiful smile back on her face.

“So, what are you doing to keep busy?”

“Nothing since James wants me free to plan our wedding.”

“Yes, the wedding,” I say in a clipped tone. I can’t hide my displeasure. Her life revolves around my uncle. I want to ask her what she wants, but I’m not sure she can see beyond my uncle’s desires. They rule her life, or maybe he does. I need to ask her one more question.

“I’m curious about something. How did you meet my uncle?” She looks down and twists the napkin in her lap. She’s working on an answer to what should be a simple question. Taking a deep breath, she begins, but doesn’t look up at me.

“We met at The Clinic. I was at the hospital for something and he introduced himself to me. I think it was fate, because I was at a really low point in my life. We’ve been together ever since.”

She lifts her eyes to mine and gives me a weak smile. It’s a sad disguise to mask the truth. She left out all the hurt and heartache surrounding their meeting, but discussing the murder of your mother with someone you just met can’t be easy. I decide to drop the subject for now.

After a few moments of silence, she speaks up. “What made you decide on medicine?”

“Do you know what a gap year is?”

“Where you take off a year between high school and college?” she guesses correctly, and I nod.

“I had a wild gap year in Australia. By wild, I mean the devil lit a fire under me. Drugs, tattoos, women.” She blushes and looks down for a second. Shit, if she knew what I did with those women, she would be disgusted. Threesomes, foursomes—f*ck, it was one big orgy.

“I was rebelling against my father, and hell bent on pushing the edge of everything I could. One day, a group of us rode out into the desert on our motorcycles and a friend wiped out. He was thrown from his bike and I watched him fade away as he died in my arms. He went from my friend with a soul to nothing. If I’d known what to do, I might’ve saved him. Something clicked inside me as I held him and I knew in my gut I had to be a doctor. I came home a week later and got my shit together for good.”