Chapter 30
30
Samantha
Timothy’s funeral took place in an old, stone church just outside of the city, attended by Boston’s elite. His meager family had greeted everyone as they came in to pay their respects, thanking them for coming. After a short service, we left for the reception.
The sky had been mostly clear, just a few puffy white clouds dotting the sky overhead. It was a day he would’ve loved to take his little boat out in the bay, to watch the birds while hoping to see a whale in the distance. It was an odd feeling, knowing I’d never see him again. I almost let out a laugh, thinking about how he would chastise me for an outfit, or a poor choice in wine when he loved his cheap beer while he was out on the water, but when it came to any other time—God forbid.
“Are you doing all right?” my mother’s soft voice interrupted my thoughts from the other side of the limousine.
I nodded and pulled my clutch onto my lap. “I am. It's so strange that he’s gone.”
My mother frowned in pity. “It is,” she agreed. “I hope they find the person who did this.” She shook her head. “We don’t want people looking at you differently.”
“I was just remembering how he loved to go out in his little boat.” The car we were in was traveling down the highway, the ocean sparkling in the sun out the passenger side windows. “It was the only time he really relaxed.” I ignored my mother’s remark.
“Him and his piss beer.” My dad chuckled and rolled his eyes. I couldn’t tell if he was criticizing or fondly reminiscing.
I gave a low laugh. “Yes, I remember.”
“Don’t forget Julia’s engagement party tonight.” My mother changed the subject. “We’ll send a car at seven.”
Switching my gaze to hers, I sat back. “I didn’t forget.” The car pulled off a highway exit, following the winding roads.
She cast me another pitying look, a frown marring her features. The expression didn’t reach her eyes. “I know you’re in mourning, so everyone will understand if you’re a bit down.”
My mother was giving me permission to be sad tonight; it was okay to let the stoic mask slip a little. “He was my fiancé, so they better.” I’d never told my mom and dad I hadn’t re-accepted the engagement or ring and I wasn’t about to disappoint them with the truth.
“Samantha,” she chided as we pulled into the reception’s parking lot.
“I know, Mom. I’m tired. This has been a lot. I will be there tonight. Are you attending?” The closer I examined, the faker my family appeared.
The car came to a stop. “We have the shelter fundraiser,” my dad interjected. “There has been a massive influx of the homeless and it's important we attend.”
“I have some items I can donate from my shop, if you can find a use for them?” I really had made way too many oil blends and candles the other day. I’d select the mixtures designed for healing and happiness and put together some boxes.
My dad sighed and sent me a small sigh. “Perhaps. I don’t want to be known as the hippie candidate.”
I’d almost forgotten my dad’s political aspirations. “Okay, fine. Let me know. I’ll give Julia and her fiancé your best tonight, of course. I didn’t realize you wouldn’t be there.” Another apologetic glance was sent my way just as the car door was opened.
The hall was laid out with tripod-framed photos of Timothy, showing the various highlights of his life. One frame was an oil painting depicting Timothy in a nicer suit, his image set against an ombre background with various shades of brown highlighting his chestnut eyes. The next room had multiple cloth-covered small dining tables, and a long table filled with food and beverages lined the far wall.
My family and his welcomed his friends, colleagues, and acquaintances. I was under no illusion many had attended sheerly for the networking that would take place under the guise of mourning. Deals would be made, meetings arranged, and hands shook with the promise of future collaboration. This was normal, of course, it just grated on my nerves.
After mingling a bit with the crowd, I found a table and poured myself some water from the carafe placed in the center. Several individuals stopped by to extend their condolences and share memories or encounters they’d had with my ex. Interestingly, I spotted Matthew, the man who had seemed to enjoy my company and then dropped out of sight. I’d had no idea he’d known Timothy.
Matthew was sitting several tables away listening to conversation taking place around him. I didn’t know the people he was with, but I had seen them around at different functions. At first, I considered trying to greet him before I left and then I thought about how I didn’t want to have to attend another funeral anytime soon.
The first words out of my mother’s mouth when she joined me were, “Oh Matthew’s here.”
My dad took a seat beside her as I uttered a noncommittal, “Mm.”
Thankfully Matthew did not approach me. Our eyes met once but it seemed as though he didn’t recognize me, his gaze passing over me as if I were one of the cushioned chairs in the room. It was a disconcerting feeling when I compared his behavior to how he’d been before, and it struck me as rude. I wasn’t used to being overlooked and dismissed in this manner, as if we’d never met. He could at least nod or smile at me. Contemplating the sword hanging over my head, I tamped down my pride. I didn’t want to be anything like my mother, or to be responsible for another death.
“John is escorting you tonight, I presume?” my mother asked, after narrowing her eyes slightly in Matthew’s direction.
She was referring to an unattached man who’d accompanied me to a couple events when I was without a different date. John was as generic and as boring as his name implied. “Yes, he confirmed earlier today.” I hadn’t had to make any use of him in ages, it seemed.
An event of importance such as an engagement party necessitated the arrangement for tonight in my parents’ eyes. “Excellent, Samantha,” my dad intoned, scanning the room, looking for anyone of significance he should talk to.
The rest of the reception was spent making small talk, watching my parents work their magic with the attendees. Timothy didn’t have a lot of living family other than some distant cousins so mine became the focal point of condolences and outpourings of sympathy. Making the appropriate noises and gestures we received them all with half-hearted soft promises to “be in touch soon” and other such expected platitudes.
By the time I got home, I was exhausted.
I checked my house thoroughly when I got back, looking for surprise gifts or floral arrangements from my dark lover. I was almost disappointed there was nothing amiss and no signs of a secretive visit. The importance of getting back to my normal day-to-day existence shouted at me while I got ready for Julia’s engagement party, reminding me of my responsibilities and duties, while the other part of me screamed for Ramone. That part of me that felt free, for just a little while, in my malicious friend’s company, longed to let go of the chains that bound it.
I had decided while I was in that decaying world with Ramone that I was going to let loose and live a little and that decision was gradually being eroded away after just a few hours back in Boston society. As I repeatedly tamped down the free-spirited part of me, the other part grew stronger. Ramone had killed Timothy, and I would be next, unless I made some permanent changes.
While it didn’t seem like he truly wanted to kill me—quite the opposite honestly—the darkness that followed him, clinging to him like a second skin, couldn’t be denied. With his sorcery and the anger that simmered under the surface, I suspected it wouldn’t take much effort on his part to end me.
Checking my reflection in my floor-length mirror, I eyed the dark blue dress I’d put on and double-checked my hair. I was running late, and John’s car was likely already idling by the curb waiting for me.
It was time to go.
Inoted with mild surprise John had a new driver. It wasn’t that uncommon, as people moved on to other employment or their needs changed. It was just that John was so predictable. He never changed his schedule, his diet, his interests, and he never dated. He was just there, looking like a model from a toothpaste commercial with his standard medium-brown hair and muted blue eyes. John even managed to make five-thousand-dollar suits appear nondescript.
I thanked the driver as he opened the door and I slid into the car. John and I greeted each other and asked the typical questions about family and work. We slipped into our roles, making small talk and I accepted the pre-party champagne we normally shared on our way to an outing.
Julia and Clint’s party had managed to secure the Natural History Museum for the event, which was a difficulty for most people. Clint’s parents were the executives of a large pharmaceutical company, so I wasn’t surprised they’d snagged such a great venue. The evening was private, with only a couple choice members of the press allowed entry, or anywhere near tonight’s festivities.
We walked into the building, John holding my hand in his cool, dry grasp, and were surrounded by opulence. The interior of the museum was furnished with glass and wood, displays showcasing scenes and stills of nature under low lighting, and outfitted with flowers and greenery for the occasion. The familiar scent of aged wood, furniture polish, and linen drifted through the air wrapping the crowd in comfort and security.
Uniformed servers mingled with the guests, bearing trays of champagne and small snacks as we made our way over to the happy couple. “Congratulations!” I exclaimed as Julia gave me a quick hug.
“Thank you,” she beamed. I wasn’t certain congratulations were in order, it depended on the circumstances, but she appeared content. Either way, it was the right thing to say.
Clint gave me a smile and shook my hand before turning his attention to John. I glanced back at my friend. “You look great,” I said to Julia. “When is the wedding?”
“Next year. My parents wanted the wedding sooner, but our planner is booked solid.”
“Ahh,” I said, nodding, “did you book Saint Mary’s?” Everyone who was anyone secured the beautiful, ancient church right outside of the city.
Julia looked at me in disbelief. “Of course.”
I gave her a small smile. “How have you been?”
“Busy,” she answered, with a tilt of her lips. “I’ll have to stop by your little shop some time.”
Her eyes began scanning the room. I didn’t miss the condescending note in her voice over my store. “That would be nice. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going...”
Julia had already moved on, greeting another friend and I really missed Toni at that moment and sent her a quick text, asking her to please just drop by.
Julia and I weren’t really friends, we only knew each other because we ran in the same social circles so I couldn’t get all that upset she’d quickly dismissed me.
John was deep into conversation with her fiancé, both men clutching tumblers of scotch already. What I was supposed to do was join John and stand by his side while he spoke with the people he knew. Either that or find a group of friends of my own and catch up with them, gossiping about our other friends—or perhaps reminiscing about our college days. Neither option was appealing.
Separating myself from them, I wandered the floor, sending others I knew a polite smile and gazing at the displays of wildlife and New England’s bucolic scenes. Toni messaged me back, teasing me before apologizing for not being able to come.
After a little while, I found some people I could stomach that I hadn’t seen in years—Caroline and Helen and felt less adrift.
The three of us wandered the hall, catching up while sipping our drinks, and we finally found ourselves alone in a smaller exhibit hall. While I was listening to Helen regal us with a funny story about a housekeeper getting stuck in a fitted sheet, I spotted movement on the other side of the room.
I backed away slowly and peeked my head around the corner of a dividing wall, trying to track the motion. Amazed, I realized it was Julia with a man who was most certainly not Clint. Caroline and Helen were giggling over Helen’s rescue of her housekeeper when I ducked around the edge.
It was none of my business, but I couldn’t help myself. Glancing back at my two friends I saw they were still distracted so I ventured forward as silently as I could for a better look while making sure it appeared I was admiring a display. Julia had her back to a wall and when the man turned his head, I immediately recognized him. I’d seen him and the scar down the side of his face at the gathering at the oceanside manor. He had her caged in, standing much too close to a woman who was supposed to be engaged to be married. That answers my question from earlier, I thought. If she were to be unfaithful, at least she had good taste. He was highly attractive, even with his scar. I watched as he lowered an arm to grip her waist and dipped his head to her neck. Julia let out a short, breathy gasp audible across the vast space. I was instantly thrown back to when I’d been in Ramone’s arms, his lips skimming me in the same manner.
I couldn’t tear my gaze from the spectacle. The man had lifted the edge of her dress, his hand disappearing under the skirt. Julia’s mouth dropped open as her head sagged backwards under his grasp. Wishing I was with Ramone that very moment, I replayed some of the choice events from earlier in my head and a shiver ran through me.
“Mm. You like to watch.” My champagne glass shattered on the floor, breaking the spell.
My own lover was mere inches from me, infecting my space and leaving me paralyzed. “I told you to leave me alone,” I said, weakly.
Julia and the scarred man had separated, quickly eyeing us before taking their leave. I didn’t miss the warning in her gaze as they exited, the glare she sent over her shoulder.
“You shouldn’t be unescorted,” the smooth voice said over my head.
He was so close to me, making me hyperaware of his proximity. I wanted to both run away from him and press my body against his. I did neither.
“I’m not alone,” I replied, moving away from him and the broken glass on the floor. Caroline and Helen stepped toward us, eyeing the floor.
Helen spoke first. “What was that?”
“The glass slipped out of my hand,” I said, watching Caroline glance at Ramone.
“You two know each other?” Caroline asked, looking at me and then the man mere inches from my back.
“No,” I said
“Yes,” Ramone answered.
Helen giggled and sipped her champagne while Caroline tilted her head at me. “Well, we’ve met before,” I offered in way of explanation. Caroline subtly raised her eyebrow.
“I should go find John,” I said to no one in particular, trying to excuse myself.
Ramone gave my two friends a tight-lipped smile before leaning over my ear, his scent tempting me to press into him. “Again, what did I tell you about other men?”
My skin prickled as I began walking away, my pulse thundering in my ears. He couldn’t be serious—John was nothing to me or much of anything to anyone else. Ramone was an idiot if he thought the generic man had a shot in hell with me. There were times I had to wonder if John was even human and not once had I been attracted to my stand-in date. He was just a friend.
It was all I could do not to turn my head as I walked away. The pressure of Ramone’s eyes on my retreating figure felt as if it were a living, breathing thing. I sensed his fierce gaze winding around my legs, caressing my hips, traveling upwards to slink around my neck, nearly leaving me in a stranglehold. I wanted to tell myself he wasn’t using his magic on me, but I would’ve been lying.
Caroline and Helen met up with me, after a moment, when I entered the larger hall where the majority were gathered. Immediately, the questions rained down. “You know him?” Caroline snatched my hand, tugging me closer.
“Not very well,” I insisted, dipping my hand toward a refill of champagne.
“He was practically drooling over you,” Helen said.
I tried not to roll my eyes. “We’ve met before, that’s all. Why does it matter?” There was no way I’d tell them the extent of our relationship.
Caroline gaped at me. “He’s the most wanted bachelor, ever. You know who he is, right?”
“Yes,” I answered patiently.
Helen chimed in. “His company,” she leaned in, “creates malware. It’s in the ads they make. Don’t repeat a word of this, please. And Fulgere Industries is also engaging in espionage and buying up shares of other companies. That’s what I’ve heard.” Helen had always been one for unfounded gossip.
“So, you’re not interested in him?” Caroline asked, taking a sip of her drink. The look in her eyes told me my answer didn’t matter, she was considering making a play for him.
Nausea filled my belly and I set my drink down on a passing tray. “No.” I will kill her if she so much as touches him. The thought startled me, and I glanced around to see if Ramone was anywhere nearby. “I’m going to go find John.”
I’d gone to college with Caroline and Helen, and at one point the three of us had been relatively close. If I hadn’t met Ramone and been exposed to a new world of possibilities, maybe I’d have been more enthusiastic about running into them after all this time. There was this feeling of separation I felt in their company now, as if I were playing make-believe, and continuing our friendship seemed pointless and shallow. Maybe it always was? I knew my family would approve, due to their connections.
Pausing, I scanned the area, searching for Ramone while considering the fact that perhaps others had thought I was shallow. It was an uncomfortable feeling but I’d embraced my role with enthusiasm until recently, leaving no one with a way to think otherwise, unless they were close enough to me to believe differently. My eyes moistened. I missed Zoey; I missed being a kid and having a sister.
Ramone seemed to have disappeared. I kept scanning the room, searching for the tall man in black, as I began my search.