When the Sun Goes Down Read online

  I don’t say anything. I know she’s right, but I really don’t want to discuss this with her. She takes my silence as an invitation to keep talking. “The weird thing is I never see him talking to you. It’s almost as if he’s just watching over you. It’s got a protective feel to it, which is just weird considering he doesn’t know you.” She stares into my eyes. “He doesn’t know you, right?”

  “Lauren, I met him for the first time in my life on Monday when I slammed a door in his face, so I doubt he’s trying to protect me. If anything he’s probably keeping his eye on me to stay out of my way so I don’t give him another black eye,” I retort. “Now can we please talk about something else?” I shake my head and take a long drink of water; this entire conversation is making me uncomfortable.

  She ignores my last sentence completely as she’s now pretty much talking aloud to herself. “What if he’s one of those guys that likes to be dominated? Ya know, like a submissive pain slut?”

  Water comes spewing out of my mouth at her words; I can’t believe she just said that. “Oh my God… are you crazy? You really need to stop reading those damn books, and I am officially putting an end to this conversation.” I look at her with sincerity. “I know you desperately want me to have a life that includes drinking, males, and fun times, but please accept it; that’s just not me.”

  She smiles and nods like she’s got it all worked out. Standing up to head back to her own room, “You’re a lesbian; I knew it. It’s okay, though, I still love you the same... well, not the same like that.” She hugs me before turning to walk out of the room. “This changes nothing, Trina. Now we just need to find you a sexy woman.”

  I shake my head and turn around to put up my lunch container in my tote bag as she prances out into the hall. What am I going to do with her?

  “A sexy woman, eh?” I close my eyes as that deep, male voice that has been playing in my mind for the last four days calls out to me from the doorway.

  I pivot on my heel to see Lucca leaning against my door frame with a smirk spread across his face. He’s wearing dark jeans and a plaid button down shirt with the sleeves loosely rolled up to just below his elbow. He causes the strangest feeling inside of me when he looks at me; I hate it and like it all at the same time. I really don’t have time for this distraction in my life.

  “I have no idea what she’s talking about,” I say, acting aloof. “She’s desperately trying to make my life exciting, and unfortunately, that’s just not happening.”

  He wanders into the room, my body temperature rising with each step that he takes closer to me. “So if you don’t like sexy women, then men are your thing?”

  Rolling my eyes, I sigh overdramatically. “People aren’t my thing. I’m fine by myself, thank you.” I move around him to rearrange the instruments that really don’t need rit.

  “I don’t buy that, Miss Foster. Everybody wants to feel wanted.” His eyes follow me around the room, the heat from his stare causing my entire body to flame.

  Standing upright, I turn to face him as his words slice to my core. “I know what it’s like to feel wanted, Mr. Ellis, and believe me, that’s not what I want. Feeling wanted and being loved are two completely different things.” I stop before I say anything else to reveal information that I don’t want anyone else to know, especially the guy that enlivens things inside of me I didn’t even know existed. “My students will be back from lunch soon, so please excuse me as I set up.”

  “You’ll never know what being loved feels like if you don’t allow anyone to get close to you, Miss Foster.” Running his fingers through his messy hair, he walks out of the room. “I’ll see you around.” His voice is calm and collected, and the words he speaks are true. I’m just not ready for anyone to be close to me. I know if I let someone in, they’d run away scared once they found out who I really am, and my heart would break all over again. I just can’t.

  I have a love/ hate relationship with the weekends. Like most of working America, I take the weekends off, which for me means that I don’t go out on the prowl on Friday and Saturday nights. Instead I enjoy some down time for watching movies, listening to music, and reading books, it also gives me time to think. Typically, when I start thinking, no matter how hard I try not to, I end up recalling a lot of old memories; and my memories, unfortunately, send me into a deep, dark place of malevolence, spite, and vengeance.

  Tonight, however, I’m prepared for the bitterness and hostility that I’m going to dredge up, because I’m developing my plan of attack. The past week has tested me in more ways than one, making me second guess my end goals and resolve. I’ve been working towards this for almost two years now, and I finally feel comfortable enough with myself to move on. Now is the time, before anything or anyone gets in my way, myself included.

  I thought about inviting Leo over for dinner and asking him for strategic advice, but I don’t want to infringe on his time off, nor am I sure that I want him to know exactly what I’m planning to do. He knows my issues; he knows more about me than anyone else in the world, especially considering he’s been my personal attendant-driver-babysitter-lover since I was thirteen and has known me since I was an infant. Well, he didn’t become my lover until I was seventeen, and that was only because I basically forced him to.

  The party had turned out to be lame as shit with her parents there watching our every move, and I was ready to go. I called Leo to let him know I was ready to be picked up, and as usual, he was there within five minutes. I wasn’t sure if he was always lurking just around the corner from where he dropped me off, but I appreciated his promptness and attentiveness. He pulled up in the silver convertible Mercedes SLK 55 AMG that the sperm donor had given me for my sixteenth birthday. I’m sure driving my car around was one of the perks of the job, not to mention he and his mom, Rosa — who had been my family’s housekeeper since I was born — lived in our guest house which was bigger than what ninety five percent of people in the New Jersey area resided in.

  “Early night, Katie-bug?” he asked as I slid in the front seat next to him.

  Rolling my eyes at the ridiculous nickname he had given me as a child, I groaned. “Yes, Yvette’s parents were there and thought we needed chaperones, I guess. And would you please not call me that anymore? I’m going to college in two months, not kindergarten.”

  He laughed and pulled out of the driveway into the sultry night. “No problem, princess. Where to now? We headed home?”

  His smug attitude and shitty “princess” comment coupled with the disappointment of the failed party aroused the darkness that had lurked inside of me for a few years — ever since I had basically become an orphan.

  I looked over at him with a mischievous glint in my eye. His good looks were not lost on me — his naturally tanned skin and big brown eyes affected me like no other guy I had ever met; all of my friends had crushed on and flirted with him since we realized boys didn’t have cooties, but I had always refrained… he was just my Leo. They were all green with envy that he catered to my every need, always with a smile on his face, as if I was his precious little sister. Truth be told, he would probably prefer to be out with people his own age, but in addition to being paid an obscene amount of money, I think that he felt sorry for me and the entire circumstances known as my life. I decided that night that I didn’t want his pity; I just wanted him. I wanted to prove to him that even if he was eight years older than me, I controlled our relationship.

  “Yes, I think I’m ready to go home. I’m not feeling so well anyhow,” I said with a pouty look on my face. “And I’d prefer if you’d call me Miss Kat.”

  The drive home was pretty quick without the daytime traffic that usually clogged the expressway. As he pulled the car into the garage, I turned to him with water eyes. “Leo, can you come in with me? I hate being all alone in that big house. I’d love if you stayed with me until I fell asleep. Unless you have plans to go out with your girlfriend or something…” My voice trailed off as I climbed out of the passenger se
at.

  He didn’t respond, but instead just followed me into the main house as opposed to crossing the backyard to his home. I stopped to grab us a couple of sodas before heading upstairs to my suite. I set the drinks on the nightstand and tossed the TV remote at him. “Here, watch whatever you want while I take a shower, and why didn’t you answer me?”

  He took his shoes off and plopped down on my bed as he turned the television on. Leo hanging out in my room was nothing new for us; he had probably spent more time in here with me growing up than he did in his own room. “You know I don’t have a girlfriend, Miss Kat,” he replied.

  “Then why don’t you stay here with me anymore?” I whined.

  “You always have company over. It’s like a co-ed slumber party here every other night. It’s not like you need me watching over you and your friends. I stay in my and Ma’s house, and I make sure I’m here if you need me. I understand you’re growing up and have a social life, so I just want you to have room to breathe.”

  “I have people over because I’m lonely! Ever since Momma died, I’ve lived here by myself. He hasn’t been here in over a year and a half! Do you know that he didn’t even call me on Christmas or my birthday this past year? Not that I want to ever talk to him again in my life, but you would think he would at least try to be civil to his only child considering he took my mom away from me!”

  Again, I got the look of pity from my best friend. Frustrated that I had lost control of both my feelings and the conversation, I pulled my tank top over my head and unzipped my shorts, letting them fall to the floor. Standing in front of him in just my bra and thong, I saw him swallow hard and redirect his eyes to the show on TV. “I’m going to take a shower,” I stated authoritatively, “and I don’t want to talk about this anymore. You can stay or go to your place… it’s whatever. I’m used to being abandoned.”

  Fifteen minutes later, I exited the bathroom to find Leo in my bed, dressed in just his undershirt and boxers, with a bowl of my favorite kind of ice cream waiting for me. His sweet smile greeted me and told me everything I needed to know. He loved me, even if it was in an unconventional way, and he would always be there for me.

  An hour later, I was writhing my tight seventeen- year-old frame underneath him as he worshipped every inch of my body like I had never experienced before or since. He wasn’t happy as he slid his rock hard cock inside of my tight slit and it met the resistance of my virgin body — I may have led him to believe that I wasn’t one -but by then, we were at the point of no return.

  After we cleaned up and I got back in bed, he lay down and held me until I began to drift off. He kissed me on my forehead and I mumbled sleepily, “Goodnight, Leo. Thank you for taking care of me.”

  “Yes ma’am, Miss Kat. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  And he disappeared.

  Thinking back to that day, I realize that I’ve been using men for well over five years now. I used Leo back then to feel wanted and loved, much like I use him to this day. I do love him, in the only capacity that I can love, but I will never be his, even though he is always mine. The day my father shot my mother for walking in on him with his whore, I lost the ability to love completely. If Leo can’t break through my heart of darkness, I don’t think anyone will be able to. And even though I know that nothing I can do will ever bring her back; the time has come for me to get my revenge on the bastard that stole the sunshine from my life.

  Every Saturday I spend pretty much the entire day watching movies on Netflix, and today is no different. I wake up early and cook myself a prosciutto and cheese omelet with a side of rosemary potatoes. Cooking is my other love, besides movies and music, but cooking for one can be a bit depressing. I’ve thought about having Lauren over to cook for her one evening, but I don’t want her to know where I live. It would just bring way too many questions along with it — questions that I don’t want to answer — not now, not ever.

  Sitting down with my yummy breakfast on the oversized leather recliner, I pull up the guide and scroll through the options. An hour and a half into the movie, my belly is nice and full, but I’m wondering what in the world I was thinking when I chose to watch Her. Expecting to watch an uplifting love story to brighten my spirits after this mentally-draining week, I instead find myself lost in this poor guy’s devastatingly heart-breaking story. Most people would probably be surprised to find out that I actually prefer watching and reading tales of the heart more than any other genres considering my aversion to real-life romantic relationships, but I find comfort and fulfillment in watching the happily-ever-afters that I will never experience.

  Once the movie is over, I quickly wash the dishes and grab a fresh cup of coffee before beginning the next flick. Eager to remove the awful emptiness and sadness left inside of me, I dive right into another film. Endless Love is much more what I am looking for. Boy meets girl… girl is too good for boy… boy and girl fall in love anyways… girl’s family gets in the way… well, you know what happens from there. Typically, I would’ve cried happy tears, made notes of good music from the soundtrack, and been thoroughly pleased with the improbable fairy-tale ending; however, as I watch the movie, I find myself visualizing Lucca as David and me as Jade more than I care to admit. As soon as the credits are rolling, I turn the television off and jump up. I need to get out of the apartment quickly. That boy is doing something to my mind and I don’t like it one bit. There’s no room in my life for feelings, and there’s even less room for Lucca Ellis.

  Sunday is upon me before I know it, and I still need to work on the specifics for the evening’s plans. After extensive research on Friday night, I’m now well acquainted with all of the members of my sperm donor’s political team, as well as his close and personal friends. I’ve decided that I’m going to start at the bottom and work my way closer to him.

  I grab my iPad and type into the search engine: Robert Allan Green. In addition to being the recently elected Governor of the state of New York, my sperm donor was also a pro-bowl quarterback for the Giants nearly fifteen years ago, which makes him not only loved and borderline worshipped by most people in this area, but extremely easy to investigate.

  As soon as the search results are displayed, pictures of him pop up on my screen. I’m so used to seeing his face on the TV, newspapers, and internet, it hardly affects me any longer. It’s not that my loathing of him has decreased any over the last nine years; in fact, every holiday that I spend without my mom, it grows even stronger, but I’m almost numb to looking at him. But when photos of him and my mom — and even ones including me when I was young — are staring at me, recollections from my childhood inundate my memory.

  Daddy didn’t make it home for dinner for the third night in a row, and even though Momma acted like it was no big deal, the disappointment hung heavy on her face. Even when sad, she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She had the same long, naturally blonde hair that I did, her eyes were bluer than the Caribbean Sea, and her skin was so flawless that it looked as if it had been airbrushed. That night when she had tucked me in to bed, she sang ‘You Are My Sunshine’ to me just as she had every night since I could remember.

  When she finished, I asked her why she always sang the same song, and she answered, “You are the light that keeps me from being afraid of the dark.” She smiled brightly as she leaned over and kissed my forehead before leaving me to drift off to dreamland.

  I remember thinking how silly her answer was — I was the little kid that was a scared of the dark, not her. If anything she was my sunshine instead of the other way around.

  Tears stream down my cheeks at a steady pace as I pull myself from the bittersweet memory. Tragically, the darkness destroyed her despite me being right next to her side. Now, I must focus on avenging her death.

  When I sifted through his current staff a couple of nights ago, I found a guy named Daniel Saunders who is his current head of communications. After a little further research, I found that he recently married Claudia Roberson, the daughter o
f the mayor, who also just so happens to be one of Robert’s best friends. Daniel seems to be trying to work his way up the political ladder and is the perfect target for me to kill two birds with one stone. It really couldn’t be any more perfect.

  I pick up my phone and call my friend, Travis, hoping he has the information I requested.

  “Hey, gorgeous. What’s up?” he groggily answers the phone.

  “Hi, Trav. Sorry if I woke you, but it’s after noon, so get your ass up,” I say playfully.

  I hear him grumbling and moving around as he whines, “You know I don’t go to bed before six… ever.”

  “Yeah, yeah… the life of a New York socialite is so hard, I know. You get into any restaurant or club you want without waiting, eat and drink for free, and party with all the beautiful people. I feel your pain. Really, I do.”

  Chuckling, he retorts, “I don’t party with you, and you’re one of the most beautiful people in the city, Miss Kat.”

  “Oh, shut the fuck up. My idea of a party is a little different than yours, and you know damn well the last thing I want is to be around all of those paparazzi that you have a love affair with. Now, tell me what you found out about my latest project.”

  “Hold on one second while I pull up my notes…” his voice trails off for a moment, “and how do you know I don’t share your idea of a good time?”

  “Unless you’ve started batting for the other team here recently, Trav, I’m pretty sure my body parts aren’t what you’re looking for anymore.”

  He snorts out a laugh before acting offended. “Sex isn’t required for us to have fun. You know people do other things besides that when hanging out. We could have dinner and drinks, go dancing, or God forbid just talk about our lives. I’m beginning to think you’re just using me.”