Page 24 of Save Me
“I wondered if I might change my mind and have a black coffee?”
“Sure,” she replies before grabbing another mug from the cupboard. “Do you take sugar?”
“No, I’m sweet enough,” he says smarmily, then leans back against the kitchen counter, still watching her every move. His eyes trace her body all the way down, from her head to her toes, not missing out a single curve of her now womanly figure along the way. My fists are already balled up tightly and my jaw painfully clenched.
“Oh my, that is such a cheesy expression!” She giggles again, and I smile at Beth’s propensity to laugh whenever she feels nervous. Then I remember the situation at hand and instantly tense up again.
“It is, isn’t it,” he laughs with her, putting on that‘I’m-one-of-you act that he plays so well. “My apologies, once again.”
She flaps her hand out and bobs her head, pouring the hot water into his cup and stirring it in lazy circles, all the while he watches. Before long, she hands over one of her old primary school mugs of coffee to him and smiles politely, as if to say, ‘there you are, now you can leave me alone.’ Oliver Lawrence would never be someone Beth would aspire to be with. She’s more of your girl-next-door type, someone who wants to find a similar soul with whom she can be best friends with. Someone who will help her fly, not clip her wings.
“How are you finding California, Beth?” he asks as he gives a smile in thanks for the drink. “Are you enjoying it?”
“Can’t say I’ve had much of a chance to get used to it yet. We’ve only been here for a few months. Mum’s been home-schooling us, so…” she trails off with a shrug. “I start my final year at the end of the summer vacation, at Fairfields.”
“That’s a good school, went there myself,” he says matter of factly. “Are you looking forward to it?”
“I wouldn’t say I’m looking forward to starting all over again,” she replies while biting at her lip nervously. “My last school was really small, just the way I liked it.”
“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” he says. His next action freezes her to the spot; he sweeps back a lock of her hair behind her ear, something she would find much too intimate and overly familiar from a stranger. She gasps and I find myself clawing at the wallpaper in front of me, just as his fingers graze the skin of her cheek.
“You’re very beautiful,” he murmurs. She blushes with a nervous laugh before pulling back from the awkward moment to grab hold of her cup of tea. He instantly drops his hand back to his side and smiles confidently, not at all perturbed by her shy rebuttal. “I’m sorry, did that make you feel uncomfortable? My calling you beautiful? Most girls your age love to hear that from a man.”
“I, er, don’t take compliments very well,” she replies apologetically and without a hint of a smile. She then buries her head inside of her mug, as if trying to hide away from his leering.
“Do you have a boyfriend?”
“No,” she replies, shaking her head while beginning to place bits and pieces into the dishwasher, both avoiding his gaze and the threat of him touching her again. “The opportunity, or rather, the desire to have one has never really come up. Besides, my mum always tells me that boys are more trouble than they’re worth. But don’t tell my brother she said so!”
She laughs nervously again, and looks toward the door, no doubt wondering where the hell her useless father is while his creepy ‘business associate’ is trying to flirt with her in the kitchen.
“She’s probably right,” he says and leans in with a conspirational wink. “I have a proposition for you, Beth. Would you be able to come to your father’s office tomorrow? Say, around eleven?”
She frowns at his sudden change of subject but looks more than relieved for it.
“Like a business opportunity?”
“Something like that, yes,” he replies with a smile.
“Ok, but only if it’s alright with Dad,” she says with a casual shrug.
“You’re a good girl to your parents, I can tell,” he says, eyeing her lustfully once again when she turns to put the now empty cups into the dishwasher. She makes no response to his comment, merely smiles, and waits for him to leave.
“Until tomorrow, Beth,” he says with a nod, then turns to walk back out to where he’ll catch me listening if I don’t get my butt back into the living room, pronto.
As soon as my backside hits the cushion of the chair I was sitting on earlier, Oliver is at the door, fussing over his cufflinks and walking over to his seat with an air of arrogance and self-satisfaction. I remain expressionless while he arranges himself inside of the armchair, waiting to hear whatever it is he has decided to do.
“I don’t want your business, Malcolm,” he declares, “I want her.”
“W-what?! I mean, what do you mean you want her? As in Beth, my Beth?!” I stutter with my voice sounding more and more irate as each word filters through my lips. My brain is finding this all too hard to process, which is causing my mouth to have little coherence.
He forcefully coughs before shifting inside of his seat and looking at me straight-faced, showing me that he is deadly serious.
“If I can have Beth’s hand, you can keep your business, it’s as simple as that!” he explains to me as though I’m a moron who cannot understand basic instructions.
“You want me to force my daughter into marriage?” I ask him in utter bewilderment. He simply nods. “You are aware of what century we’re living in?”
“I am.” His expression is firm, if not irritated by my incredulity over his new offer. “But I need a wife who is of a certain nature and with a good background. Beth comes from a very good family and will put me in good stead for my social standing and reputation.”