Page 13 of Unwritten Vows

Derrick

I knew she’d call me again. I shouldn’t have been nervous for even a second.

I know what she’s trying to do by suggesting the opera, but if Liza thinks she’s throwing me off my game, she’s sadly, sorely mistaken.

I know that sappy shit in general is like fucking catnip to girls.

If you speak in a knowledgeable way about it, they will fawn all over you.

It doesn’t matter if you’re mansplaining them into the ground like some misogynistic Greek philosopher; they will hang on your every word.

Plus, the opera doesn’t bother me. I like music and a decent story from time to time. It’s not such a bad thing to have a change of pace from the sweaty bodies and heart-shocking thumps of bass at the club.

On top of everything, I get to dress like James Bond. I figure a girl like Liza would love a man like Bond. He’s got money, he’s smart, he’s cunning and motivated, and he protects the things he loves. Just like her dear old Daddy.

Of course, I’m not like her Daddy or James Bond. My soul is firmly black and I have no “due north” on my moral compass. I doubt her father does either, except when it comes to her. But I’m trying to use her to gain myself more power and money. Keeping her safe while doing so only makes sense.

*****

I’m at Liza’s house to pick her up ten minutes early, and I wait for eight minutes at the bottom of the stairs while she takes her time.

At exactly 6 p.m., Liza appears in a shimmering black and dark pink cocktail dress, cut to her knees, and showing just a hint of her modest cleavage.

I make a note to see what’s under the top of that dress tonight, since so far I’ve only gotten to taste and feel what was underneath it.

Her eyebrows rise. “I’m not gonna lie. I’m happy that you’re a punctual date.”

I give a solemn nod. “I aim to please. Especially when I’m with such a beautiful young woman. I can’t believe no one has scooped you up for themselves before now.”

She swallows hard, clearly enjoying my flattery and hating it at the same time. “Well, I hate weddings. Mainly the rings,” she blurts out, her voice too hoarse and husky to really mean it. “I don’t want anyone giving me some D-color flawless, 3 carat, blood diamond monstrosity.”

I smirk. It’s telling that she knows all the terms for a wedding ring, whether she wants to admit she’s looked it up or not. “Then what do you want, Little Liza?”

She bites her lip and toys with it between her teeth. “I like black diamonds, honestly. They’re very pretty and unconventional.”

“Mmm. So you’d rather a black diamond than an understated, single carat, with Kimberly Process Certification?”

I want to consume the irresistible shock on her face. “How do you know…” She picks her jaw up off the floor and shakes her head. “I don’t want something conventional.”

“No, you don’t. There’s nothing about you that’s conventional, is there, Liza?” I’m being honest, although she probably thinks I’m toying with her. I don’t think she’s conventional in the least. But I need to move on.

She giggles nervously . You don’t need to bother with the theatrics, Derrick. You have her. She’s done. But I decide that I’ll lock it down with as much charm as possible. She’s surprised me in the past, and I don’t need any surprises going forward.

“In any case, you look stunning. This cocktail dress is just as sexy as any tiny, ass-bearing mini-skirt at the club.”

I lean forward to kiss her hand, but I’m surprised by how squirmy she is just a second later. I look up and see the deep wince on her face. What? What did I do?

When she speaks next, I realize it has nothing to do with me. “You know, I feel kinda bad about what I did that time at the club with your, uh… friend. Callie, I think her name was.”

I can’t tell her this, but I thought it was hot as fuck that she had the confidence to stand up to an older, more plastic woman to the degree that she did, so I scoff and brush her worry off.

“Little Liza, you did nothing wrong. She probably liked flashing half the club. She paid a lot of money for what was under that tiny shirt.”

To my dismay, the wince on her face deepens. “It doesn’t matter whether she liked it or not. Even if she thinks her choices have been fantastic, what I did was demeaning, and I shouldn’t have. I should have ignored her.”

I don’t get this little self-destructive reflection-session she’s having here.

She made a choice and acted on it. She was just defending herself.

I want to tell her that the girl was just a huge bitch, but now I’m uncertain of whether that will make her feel better or worse.

Yet, I feel I need to say something . “Oh. Well, maybe,” I say, wondering if this is what it’s like to feel awkward.

“Yeah, she can wear whatever she wants. In fact, maybe I was even jealous. She’s 30 years old with a body and face like that, and I’m 20, but look like I’m still going through puberty.”

This is just going too far. First of all, she’s finding fault in what I said, but more importantly, she’s talking poorly of her beautiful body.

“Liza,” I say, grabbing her waist and pulling her toward me.

“You’re hot as hell. Just because you’re sweet as honey doesn’t mean your body isn’t all woman. ”

She looks down as her cheeks redden. She likes it. I feel like I can go in for the attack now. “I don’t even care about that girl, Liza. When I’m with you, I want you . Callie can go to hell.”

My practiced mask falls when she looks up at me with the smile wiped off her face, replaced by worry and trepidation. “Why would you want her to go to hell?”

Shit, shit, shit, why is she looking at me like this? “She hurt your feelings.”

She looks at me suspiciously. “But you have a history with her. I don’t have a history with her, and even I don’t want her to go to hell.”

I gulp. I feel like I’ve dug myself into a hole, but I don’t even know when I started digging.

I don’t know how to begin getting myself out of it.

Talking this way feels like a practiced speech I’ve given a hundred times, just now realizing I didn’t understand a word of it.

“It’s just a… a figure of speech, baby.”

That fucking wince comes back again. Stop fucking calling her baby!

She doesn’t like it! I think, but don’t have time to try and smooth it over before she speaks again.

“But everything you’ve said about her shows your disdain, Derrick.

Do you really hate someone you’ve… I don’t know, probably had sex with, that much? ”

I’ve never even thought twice about most of the women I’ve fucked. Liza really is so naive. Does she think I go around fucking women for love? Does she think we’re going to find that shit in this life? What is her dear old Daddy teaching her?

She really is a rare gem. So unblemished and beautiful, in this sea of toxic fucking waste. A shining beauty like her doesn’t belong with all the black, corrosive sludge that runs around in our circles, but I do. I suppose I’ll enjoy it while I can.

If I can. Because while I’m considering all of this, she’s waiting for a response that I’m not sure I have in my repertoire. But I need to try and find something to say here.

“I don’t hate her. I was… joking.”

Now she looks very uncertain and takes a full step away from me, out of my grip. “No you weren’t. Why are you lying to me?”

This is going very, very wrong. It has never occurred to me to tell the truth, but it’s truly the only thing I have left at this point. “I don’t hate her, Liza. I just don’t care about her and I don’t actually like girls who act that way. But I do know a lot of them.”

I lick my suddenly dry lips and continue.

“I don’t think you understand, since you’ve lived so removed from most of this all your life.

But the way I grew up… relationships for gain were the only ones that mattered and were encouraged, whether I liked the other person or not.

Callie’s parents are famous news anchors with their hands in the pockets of half of the fucking U.S.

congress. It was good for me to be matched with her, and she liked me.

So I dated her for a couple months. It’s no big deal. ”

Her face softens and her gaze changes. I don’t like it. She looks into me like she’s really searching for something. But I don’t want her searching me. She’s not going to like anything she finds in there.

“It is a big deal. Don’t you see how fucked up it is for you to be forced to date someone you don’t like, just so you can get behind the scenes access and pull strings when you don’t even want to?”

I can’t tell if she’s judging me, angry with me, or worse, feels bad for me. She seems to be showing pity.

I want none of it, so I bristle and stand tall.

“You know, Liza, I thought you were just a little innocent thing, but this is even worse. You’re just a baby in this world if you think no one ever has to do things they don’t like just to get what they want.

Especially when they look like me and have the life I’ve grown up in. ”

I swallow the lump in my throat. My father might be pissed if I lose out on my chance with her, but I can’t deal with this ignorance forever. “You know, maybe you’re right. Maybe this isn’t such a great idea.” I say it, but I don’t really want to leave. I want her to beg me to stay.

She doesn’t beg, but she doesn’t dismiss me, either. “Why are you angry? You called this girl a name. I’m just asking why you talk about her like that and why you seem so cavalier about your father using you this way.”

I scoff. “My father doesn’t use me. I get things along with this arrangement too.

” I’m trying to tamp down my nerves and bring my temper down; it never pays to get angry about things, and I pride myself on my perpetually cool attitude in every situation.

However, it’s hard to put these creeping low flames out when I don’t even know why I’m off-kilter.

This night has turned on me so quickly, and I don’t understand why at all.

To my complete shock, she closes the distance between us again and puts her hand on my arm. “You know, this is the first time I think you’re lying to both of us and not just me.”

I study her now, trying to figure what angle she might be playing here, but she seems completely sincere and even compassionate. She rubs her thumb over my arm, and I think that I should probably pull away, but I really don’t want to.

I don’t know what compels me to say it. Maybe I just want to get this night back on track the right way, but I really think I mean it when I say, “You’re not like that girl.

In fact, maybe you’re right—maybe I’ve been looking in all the wrong places.

But I really haven’t met anyone like you before.

And as difficult as you are sometimes… I’m glad I met you and that I’m getting to know you better. ”

She squeezes my arm, and for the first time, she flashes a genuine smile at me.

Then, she abruptly seems to realize what she’s doing and lets her hand fall to her side.

“Thank you, Derrick, but you’re the difficult one.

Now let’s get this show on the road.” She begins walking towards the door without checking to make sure I’m following behind her.

I breathe out heavily. Okay, nix making fun of others, give her lots of semi-back-handed compliments. Check.