CHAPTER THREE:THE FIRST NIGHT
1517 Words
The apartment that Jackson had booked was not anything that Maya had anticipated.
She had steeled herself to something ostentatious gold and marble, everything, that kind of excessive bling that says a lot about money and nothing about anything personal. She was rather left standing in a room that seemed like home manufactured wooden floors, a large window facing the city, not cheap looking furniture but comfortable.
Like it?
Jackson spoke behind her as she wandered in the living room.
“It’s beautiful.” Maya strokes the cashmere blanket covering the sofa. But it is excessive.
It’s temporary. Just like everything else.
She turned around toward him, and her breath caught. He had swapped his suit for dark denim jeans and a plain white button down shirt, with rolled up sleeves to show off those bulging forearms. He was younger, without the armor of his costly clothes. More vulnerable.
More dangerous.
He said, Are you hungry? I ordered groceries.
“You cook?”
“I’m learning.” His smile was depreciating. Mother did not permit me into the kitchen. Said it was beneath my rank.
Maya went into the kitchen to see signs of her man being a novice…. A cutting board with the vegetables chopped hodgepodge style, a pot of boiling water about to spill over and a totally lost Jackson.
Move, she said, giving him a little jostle. Not until you burn the place down.
I considered myself the one supposed to be taking care of you.
There is nothing like taking care of me, but a person serving the other person. Maya reduced the heat to the pot and started to rescue his vegetables. In addition, I have always cooked since the age of twelve. My mum had three jobs. Somebody had to see what we ate.
Jackson stood at the side of the counter as he watched her work.
What is she like?
“Why?”
Because I want to know you.
Maya paused for the knife. She was a dancer. Ballet. She was going to join the American Ballet Theater when she discovered that she was pregnant with me.
She sacrificed her dreams on your behalf.
Then she spent the remainder of her existence making me aware of it. The words were spoken crossly by Maya.
“I’m sorry. It was not like…”
Yeah, she did. And you have a right to be angry with it.
Maya stared at him, and was surprised by the comprehension of his voice. You are talking like you know a disappointed parent or two.
I am acquainted with the disappointed parent in every way. Jackson went to the wine rack and chose a bottle. My father needed a male child who would increase the empire of the winters. My mother desired a society prince who would be a good match and have her offspring. Instead, they got me.
What is the matter with you?
I am a questioner. I reason independently. I do not just believe in everything they say. He filled two glasses of wine, giving Maya one of the glasses. It seems that these are critical character defects.
Maya took the glass, their hands, touching in their transaction. The touch gave her a shock in her arm and the eyes of Jackson dropped to a darker level.
"What age were you when you understood that you were stuck?" she wondered.
Eight. Maybe nine.
"I wished to play baseball, but my mother told me it was too ordinary. I would have liked to attend a state school, but my father told me it was not our stratum. I wanted to be a teacher, but…”
Teachers do not run empires, maya said.
“Exactly.” Jackson sipped his wine, never averting his eyes in the face of Maya. When did you know you were stuck?
The day my mother passed away, I was in the billing office signing off some bills I could not pay, and I knew I could never be free of her decisions.
Is that the reason you dance?
Maya laugh was bitter. I dance because that is the only skill that can earn me a chance to stay alive. But it is not dancing, right? It is survival camouflaged in the guise of entertainment.
“Show me.”
“What?”
Demonstrate the real dancing style to me.
Abruptly, Maya was self conscious, and she put down her wine glass. I cannot, Jackson,
“Please.” He stepped nearer and, speaking low, said…. Show me something real.
Maya surveyed the kitchen, at the man who watched her with desperate hope, at the life which she had entered to live in just one month. After that, she shut her eyes and submitted to the music in her head.
She started to move, slowly at that, felt the rhythm of some imaginary song. This was not the well-planned seduction of her stage acts. This was an out and out expression of joy, pain and longing all tied up together in motions that narrated her life.
Jackson stood fascinated as he saw Maya turn right before his eyes. The Jade armor dropped off, disclosing a person open to the world, beautiful, utterly genuine.
By the time she had come to a whirling halt at the very center of the kitchen, he was gazing at her as though she had just done something like a miracle.
That, he said, and his voice was hoarse with emotion, was the most beautiful thing I ever saw.
His glance made Maya blush. It is just dancing.
No, that is not so. It is what you are like when there are no eyes on you. When no one is around to make you perform.
The stove timer rang before Maya could reply to it. She rushed to see the pasta, and was glad of the diversion.
Jackson had been so intense, and it took her a moment to compose herself.
As she concentrated on food plating, she announced, dinner is ready.
They ate in the living room, sitting cross legged and placing a coffee table between them. It was supposed to be embarrassing, a stripper and the son of a billionaire eating takeout bowls and drinking quality wine. Rather, it was a natural experience. Easy.
She had finished eating when Maya asked, So how is your engagement?
Midway to his mouth, Jackson halted with his fork. How did you…
You wear a tan line where a ring ought to be. And you have that look.
“What look?”
It has the expression of a man who is getting ready todo something that he cannot undo.
Jackson laid his fork aside, and his face became serious. She is called Caroline Astor. Our families are generational friends. They have had us betrothed since we were little.
Creep, do you love her?
I do not even know her. We have probably talked about a dozen times in our whole lives, and those have all been under parental supervision.
What is the date of the wedding?
“Six weeks.”
Something in maya chest twisted. And that is why you are here. A final lick of freedom before you are put behind bars permanently.
“Maybe. Or it is possible that I am here because I am finally willing to make the choice that belongs to me.”
What sort of choice?
Jackson arose, went to the window. I do not know yet. However, this is the first time in my life that I have choices. And I have you.
Jackson, you do not have me.
You have one month. It is different.
He had turned and was looking back at her and there was something in his eyes that made her heart start to pound.
“Is that so?”
Maya had not found the voice to reply before he was in started moving towards her, closing the gap between them with the instep of a hunter. She must pull back, she must remind him of what they had agreed on.
Rather, she stood quite motionless before him.
He said her name, Maya, as a prayer.
No, Jackson.
What are we supposed to do?
Go ahead and pretend it is only business?
Suppose I am not thinking about you all the time?
Act like you do not feel this as well?
His hand lifted to encircle her face, and his thumb fingered the cheekbone of her face with infinite tenderness. Maya gasped and realized that she saw her desire in the eyes of the guy.
"This is bad," she said to herself in a very low tone.
“I know.”
One month was what we settled on. We said no strings. We never made an agreement that we should hide the fact that we wanted each other.
The determination of Maya was broken. She had been so long the strong one, the boss, the one nobody messes with. However, Jackson was staring at her as though she was special, as though she was selected, and as though she was all that he had want
Just once, she said breathlessly.
- Writer
