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The Opportunist

Page 40

   


“I always win.” She tosses an envelope at my feet and walks away. I slam the door and then kick it. I pace my apartment yelling every swear word I can think of.
It is time for me to forget. My heart feels like it is going to explode from the pain. I slide down the wall and pull my knees to my chest. I have to get out of here, out of this place that is saturated with Caleb. That’s it! I decide. I am leaving and I’m never coming back.
Chapter Thirteen
The Past
I was introduced to the viper Caleb called “mum” on the first day of September, just a couple of months past our one year anniversary. We pulled up to the two story colonial around four o’ clock. I immediately started ringing my hands. Caleb parked next to a large fountain that was spitting water rudely in my direction. I looked away feeling snubbed already.
“It’s just a statue, Duchess,” he said smiling at my expression. “She doesn’t bite. I’ve done several drunken dives into that fountain, I should know.”
I smiled weakly and took the long way around the car to avoid looking at it.
Caleb took me firmly by the elbow as we approached the door. I had the distinct feeling that he thought I was going to run. I wanted to.
As the door swung open, I was given a brief glimpse of what his mother thought of meeting me. She was caught off guard, perhaps we arrived a minute earlier than she expected. Her face was set in a hard scowl as she faced her husband, as if they had just exchanged bitter words. I saw him look at her in disapproval and I knew—a gut feeling that it had been about me. Seconds passed, the air argument was swept under the rug and they were both smiling at us, welcoming me into their home. I stood to the side like a forgotten accessory as Caleb embraced his mother, kissing her on the cheek. She was evaluating me even as she stroked his hair and marveled out loud about how handsome he was. I could taste her dislike in the way her eyes darted to my hair and back to my face as she waited politely for her beloved son to introduce us. At last, Caleb gave his stepfather a slap on the back, man to man affection, and turned toward me.
“This is Olivia,” I heard him say and I smiled timidly stepping out from behind his broad shoulders.
Mother Dearest eyed me like I was a rotting carcass and stepped forward to take my hand. I was annoyed by her immediate dislike of me. I wanted her approval. I wanted it like I wanted him.
“Caleb, you’ve found yourself the prettiest girl in Florida,” his stepfather said, winking at me. I relaxed.
“It’s very nice to finally meet you,” his mother nodded tightly.
I saw Caleb look from me to his mother and I inwardly cringed. He knew. I looked down at my cheap shoes in shame. I had bought them especially for this occasion. I wished I was better at hiding things from him. I wished I had bought a more expensive pair of kickers.
“Dinner is just about ready; shall we move to the dining room?” She motioned for us to follow her with a light flick of her wrist. The walk to the dining room was torturous. I felt like an outcast following at the back of the line. Mother and son trotted in front of me, their arms clasped intimately as she giggled at everything he said. Caleb’s stepfather had disappeared right after dinner was announced only to reappear once we were seated at the table. I wondered bitterly if they would even notice if I disappeared.
I sat rigidly in my chair as his stepfather asked me polite questions about my studies and his mother sized me up like a Thanksgiving turkey. Luca, as everyone called her, was five feet even, with long blonde hair and startling blue eyes. She looked more like Caleb’s older sister than his mother and I suspected that there was a team of plastic surgeons somewhere to thank for that. She was beautiful, well-bred and opinionated and I am sure her opinion would be that I was not good enough for her Caleb.
“What do your parents do, Olivia?” she asked me, taking a delicate bite of her lamb.
I had never eaten lamb and was trying to smear a blob of the brightly colored mint jelly onto a chunk of it.
“My parents are both dead,” I said. The next question was the one I always dreaded answering.
“Oh, I’m very sorry to hear that. May I inquire as to how they passed?” I looked at her pearls and her cream colored pantsuit and I wanted to say ‘no you may not’ in that same haughty tone she was using with me. Instead, I bit my tongue, for Caleb’s sake.
“My father committed suicide when I was thirteen and my mother died of pancreatic cancer during my senior year of high school. When they were alive, my mom taught fifth grade, and my dad just kind of hopped from one job to another.”
She looked unruffled but I saw a slight tensing of her hand as it clutched the stem of her wine glass. I was no good riff-raff. A stain on her high society living. She would be mortified if I became her daughter-in-law.
“How did you manage?” she looked genuine this time, sweet even, and I saw what Caleb saw—a good mother.
“You’ll be surprised what someone is able to handle given no other choice.” Caleb squeezed my hand under the table.
“That must have been very difficult for you,” she said.
“It was.” I bit my lip because now I wanted to cry. I responded to sweetness like a f**king fruit fly and now she’d managed to disarm me.
“Caleb, love,” she said in that same honeyed tone. “Did you make any decisions about London?”
London? I looked at his face. He was holding his breath, his eyes amber intensity.
“No. We’ve already discussed this.”
“Oh, well you best hurry up, an opportunity like that won’t be around forever. Besides, I can’t see any reason why you shouldn’t go,” she pointedly shot a glance in my direction.
“London?” I said quietly. I saw her raise an eyebrow out of the corner of my eye. Gloating.
“It’s nothing, Olivia,” he smiled weakly, and I knew it absolutely was ‘something’.
“Caleb was offered a job in London,” Luca said, folding her hands beneath her chin, “by a very prestigious firm. And of course he still considers London his home because all of his friends are there and most of his extended family as well. We are very supportive of his making the move.”
My mind went blank. I felt like someone had just dumped a bucket of cold water over my head.
“I don’t want to go,” he looked at me now—only me. I searched his face, trying to decide if he was being sincere. “Maybe if you had already graduated, you could go with me. It would be a possibility. But, as long as you are here, that’s where I am going to be.”