The Woman from Cheshire Avenue Read online

  Yesterday, when Eric first met Lilith, and when he envisioned her throughout the night and early morning, she had been a nicely dressed, with the air and sophistication of a noblewoman from the stories of his childhood. It had annoyed the living daylights of out him. But tonight, she outdid herself; tonight she’d transformed into full-blown royalty and Eric had no choice but to stop and marvel.

  Unlike the other guests, Lilith didn’t come in from the side. She descended the grand staircase alone, entering the party from the second floor. She was wearing a floor-length white dress which showed off a bit of shoulder. Her burgundy hair was curled and pinned away from her face. She wore a single floating diamond around her neck, and it sparkled like a star.

  Awed and unblinking, Eric followed her every move throughout the evening. He watched her hug her family, gaily chat with everyone, sip champagne, and look like a princess the whole time. He noticed the different men coming up to talk to her; she flirted with them like an expert, made them laugh, but maintained a measure of distance with each one. Eric couldn’t help but find this terribly amusing; she was purposefully putting a wall up between herself and all these eligible, princely-dressed bachelors, but just a day earlier she was swapping spit with a Neo-Nazi.

  When he thought of it that way, he couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

  He watched her for almost an hour when he saw her excuse herself from the party and rush back up the stairs. He followed her from window to window until he lost her. And as he did, he glimpsed the all the pomp and glory of a private school library.

  Damn. Does a library really need to be this big? Do people need all this crap just to enjoy a book?

  Lilith headed to her office where she’d stashed a supply of lip gloss, a compact mirror, and her perfume. She carefully reapplied and paused to catch her breath. She was having a really good time, and though she often tried to get out of going to her father’s parties, she had to hand it to him—the old man knew how to entertain.

  She chuckled to herself softly, eager to get back to the party.

  “I talked to Cory yesterday.”

  She turned to see her caramel-skinned father lounging in the corner, a glass of scotch in hand. At his comment, and notably unexpected presence, she raised an eyebrow.

  “Cory? Cory who?”

  “You know which one, girl.”

  “Cory-whom-you-set-me-up-with-Cory?” Lilith snorted. “Cory-who-broke-up-with-me-almost-a-year-ago-Cory?”

  Frederick quickly leapt onto that. “And why did he break up with you? Hm? He was madly in love with you. He wanted to get married—what on earth could’ve changed his mind?”

  Lilith didn’t want to talk about this. Despite all her breakthroughs, it was still too difficult to talk about it with her father. She’d never been able to handle disappointing him, even when it wasn’t her fault.

  “I talked to him yesterday,” Frederick repeated. “I was trying to invite him the ball, but he felt you wouldn’t want him here. He felt you would rather spend the evening meeting someone …‘better.’”

  Knowing exactly where her father was going with this, and instantly realizing she was on dangerous ground, Lilith decided to strike first, “His words, not mine.”

  “It seems that Kendra’s not the only one with an attitude problem,” Frederick pointed out gravely. “Did I really spoil you two that much?”

  Lilith was not going to stand for this, not tonight, not after everything. As far as she was concerned, everyone really needed to get over this. The months after Cory had been stressful and exhausting, robbing her of the youth and energy she was just now getting back. Lilith sure as hell wasn’t going to go backwards now.

  “Dad, I was good to Cory,” she began carefully, and it was hard, hard work to keep her voice steady, “I loved Cory and he left me. Not only did that relationship cost me my friends, but I bore the brunt of everyone’s wrath for months after he left, so tell me…when do I get a break? What will it take to get everyone to just back off?”

  “Don’t you get it? You made that boy feel like he was less, Lilith!” her father hissed suddenly, his eyes shooting sparks. Apparently, he wasn’t backing down either.

  It’s the suit, Lilith mused humorlessly. He’s drunk on his shiny suit, his flattering guests, his titles and triumphs…he has everything he’s ever wanted and now he slathers icing onto the cake. He knows I’m too polite to ruin his night.

  “You made a mistake, Lilith,” Frederick continued. “If you were half as smart as you think you are, you’d be trying to get him back!”

  Lilith froze at her father’s outburst; it wasn’t like him to raise his voice, especially not to her. And he’d never insulted her intelligence before.

  It would seem he was ready to do anything to make her into what he wanted. Especially now since there was no hope for Kendra.

  “I’m not guilty,” she told him, even as her voice shook. She had not expected to be ambushed like this, to be betrayed so suddenly. “If I had to do it all over, Dad, I would do it exactly as before.”

  “You thought you were better than he,” Frederick shook his head, his words dripping with disappointment. “You made him feel as though he didn’t deserve you, after he tried to give you everything. Do you know what that does to a man?”

  “I am not guilty,” Lilith repeated, but the bitterness in her words detracted from their power. “He didn’t give me anything except his love, and I responded in kind. I worked very hard for much of what I have now, and I’m an adult. I deserve to have whatever life I choose for me—Cory,” Lilith sneered, “wanted to raise cattle for the rest of his life.” She said the word “cattle” with pure disgust. “He wanted us to take off to the country and pull an Oklahoma. He could’ve kept on with a real career, but he gave up the opportunity.”

  “‘A real career,’” Frederick echoed disdainfully. “And yet you claim you didn’t look down on him.” He sighed wearily. “Lilith, do you know hard it is to find love, real love?” He turned and walked away from her, much as Cory once did, causing tears to sting threateningly in the back of her eyes. She didn’t want to fight anymore. She was tired; the long months of self-doubt, the weeks of teary depression, and the mocking looks from her sister had already worn her out once. She was just getting her life back. She had no intention going down that dreary road again.

  Lilith stood in her office, miserably alone and staring lamely at the floor once more. How the hell had she gotten here? How could just a few sentences from her father destroy an entire perfect evening?

  “You should listen to your old man.”

  Lilith looked up at the new speaker, and though she vaguely recognized him, she stared for a long moment, trying to place him. In the end, the spiked blond hair was a dead giveaway.

  “Lilith Wells?” he greeted cheerfully, once he saw realization light up her eyes. “I’m Eric Quisling.”

  …If You Won’t Leave

  Dear God.

  Lilith worked to keep her voice clear and strong. Of course this guy had to show up right after she’d gotten kicked in the heart. What fun would fate be if it didn’t stab people in the back every now and again?

  “You weren’t invited,” she said crisply. Somehow she managed to dip into a reservoir of strength she hadn’t even known was there. “We have security in the building, and I’m pretty sure they installed a riffraff detector,” she added tartly.

  And she comes out swinging! Eric tried to ignore the sting of having a black woman call him riffraff. He mused that somewhere, Aryan was getting a migraine and didn’t know why.

  “Must be offline,” he shrugged easily. “And as for the guards…you’d be surprised how far a bag of blow will get you in this town.”

  Lilith was appalled. “You bribed them with cocaine?” It struck her as being so…trashy. Dirty. In fact, it was so low it was beyond repulsive.

  Her look of revulsion disturbed Eric so much he quickly changed to subject. “Why’d you kiss me?”

  His
inquiry caught her off guard. She blinked repeatedly for a moment, faltering as she demanded, “What?”

  “Why…did you…kiss me?” Eric enunciated. “You had no right to violate my personal space like that. Some people would see it as sexual harassment.”

  Lilith quickly regained her composure (now why couldn’t she do that when her father was cutting into her?). “Harassment?” she echoed him scornfully. She allowed her voice to come out slyly bemused. “My, my. Someone knows a big word. Be careful not to choke on it.”

  Eric rolled his eyes. “You know, you really should listen to your old man.”

  “Let me guess—‘cause yours was never around,” she quipped. “Unless it was cigarette-burning time.” She relished the dark flicker in his eyes. Oh, no…there wasn’t going any turning the other cheek here. She’d had enough of men this year, and as far she was concerned, this one was fair game. Like Cory, he made his choice and was responsible for his own actions. “So you grew up and you got angrier each year, feeling justified all the while in burning people who have nothing to do with you. Take your sob story elsewhere, Eric. I’m sure some community mental health counselor somewhere will be more than glad to care. Got Medicaid?”

  Eric bit out his words, “Tell me why. Were you bored with the good life? Did you want to take a walk on the wild side, maybe taste some dirty dick? Did you catch a bout of jungle fever the night before?”

  Lilith cackled. “Honestly, I was hoping that your friend would run back and tell your little Aryan-wannabe posse, so they’d deem you unclean or tainted or whatever it is you people say, right before they capped your ass.” She chuckled. “I don’t know. There’s something about a swastika necklace that just screams, ‘Shoot me. I’ve got it coming.’”

  Against his better judgment, Eric laughed. Lilith was turning out to be fairly what he’d thought: a bitch. It was astounding how her father could deliver an almost crippling emotional blow to her one moment, yet she could find the strength to spew vitriol the very next.

  Must be a rich people’s thing.

  “Look,” he sighed, suddenly seeing the ridiculousness of the whole situation. So what if he uncontrollably fantasized about a kiss for a few days? It wasn’t that big a deal. Things came and went; it was just the way of the universe. He would eventually get over this too. “I’m sorry if my pride in my German heritage threatens you, but you’ve gotta understand—”

  Lilith rolled her eyes and cut him short. “Oh, please; you’re not German.”

  Eric tensed immediately, but managed to keep his voice level. “Of course I am. And what would you know about it anyway?”

  “You’re not German,” she repeated, moving to sit behind her desk. Each syllable was a dagger in his heart. “I mean, look at you. You’re blond as hell, pale as hell, rather tall…and your last name is ‘Quisling.’” She snickered, lounging back into her comfortable black chair. Even in the dim light of her tiny office, she still looked like a princess. The white dress shrouded her like a malleable sheet of ice. “My guess, your family is of Nordic descent, not Germanic.” She yawned. “They probably named you after Eric the Red.”

  Eric visibly stiffened, and Lilith didn’t miss it. Grinning broadly, she leaned in, gasping, “And you know it!”

  He backed away to stand in the open doorway. He suddenly needed distance and fresh air. Her office lacked windows and it made him feel claustrophobic. Even as he retreated into the doorway, he could still feel the walls closing in.

  Meanwhile, the ice princess refused to shut the hell up.

  “You know, it’s ironic,” Lilith went on cruelly. She dragged her fingernails leisurely across her desk. The quiet scraping noise made his spine shudder. “You deny your true heritage, even though Norsemen are, like, the definition of ‘Aryan.’ Now that I think of it, a Norwegian named Vidkun Quisling once betrayed his country to the Third Reich. Ever since then, they’ve used his name—your name— as a synonym for the word ‘traitor.’” Pause. “You do know what a synonym is, right?”

  That was one hell of a blow she delivered, but Eric managed to take it in stride. Granted, he hadn’t known that particular piece of info, but still, it didn’t matter.

  “Trying to empower your people isn’t treachery,” he countered, keeping his voice as smooth as possible.

  “Funny,” she scoffed pitilessly. “’Cause in Norway, they’ve got this adorable little aphorism. It’s something about how Nazis belong either in handcuffs, or dead and rotting in a gutter.”

  Eric was horrified. He should have known that. He should have read that somewhere, back when he was snatching anything and everything he could find on Nazi Germany. This black bitch shouldn’t get to be the one to tell him these awful things. He should have known this. He should have known all of this.

  See, this is just what the fuck I’ve been saying to Aryan. He wants us to think education is a lie, and that colored people are beneath us, but I bet even with all his philosophies he couldn’t talk his way out of this.

  He knew she could tell she was hitting nerve after nerve because she smiled demonically right before delivering the killing strike.

  “Speaking of treachery, Quisling,” Lilith drawled. “Do your friends even know you came to see me?”

  Eric visibly tensed as he realized he’d gone about this all wrong. He should have never come here; he should have never shown this woman that she mattered in any way. He should have given himself time to forget her, the way she clearly had almost forgotten him.

  He headed out of her office without saying another word, carefully remaining unseen by guards and guests. Lilith waited for a moment before she rose from her chair. Glowing with triumph, she slipped back out of her office and walked to the main staircase. She stopped a few feet short from it when she glimpsed a guest she had not expected to attend.

  Michael Hirosawa, as if sensing her approach, turned to face her. He smiled a smile so sickly sweet it made her stomach turn; she walked towards him warily, refusing to even blink in his presence.

  “Face to face at last,” he greeted cheerfully. “Lilith Wells, you are a vision. No wonder Blondie can’t stay away from you.”

  Lilith tried to the force the trembling from her voice but was sadly unsuccessful. “Mr. Hirosawa—”

  “Michael, please,” he corrected her.

  “—I wasn’t aware you were coming here tonight,” she finished anyway, refusing to be familiar with him. “Did my father invite you?”

  “Of course,” Michael grinned. “As one of the largest donors to his grant, my family was guaranteed an invite to this charming little soiree.”

  “I see,” she nodded, even though she really didn’t.

  Damn…this man is fine.

  It threw her off guard. Up close, Michael was even more handsome than she recalled; ‘stunningly beautiful’ was actually a more accurate description. The lights of the chandeliers heightened the gold in his skin, making it appear polished and unnaturally smooth, as though he didn’t even have pores. And his hair…not a single midnight strand was out of the place, and not one tendril was longer than another. It was a thick and lavish mane, as dark and as crisp as the expensive suit he wore.

  It’s always the bad ones who look so good.

  Lilith lamely attempted to continue conversing. “And…are you enjoying yourself?”

  “Marvelously,” he assured her, eyes twinkling. “Especially now. Tell me, my dear: exactly how long have you been friendly with that rank, sullied little street urchin?”

  For some strange reason, his words shocked her. Taken aback, she stammered for a moment, unsure of where he was going with this. “I-I-I’m sorry?”

  “Quisling,” he clarified, and there was a definite clipped quality to his tone. “Eric Quisling. If you don’t mind my saying, it’s a bit odd when a member of a Neo-Nazi street crew comes calling on the daughter of a black city councilor.”

  Lilith couldn’t help but flounder. “I-I-uh-I, um—”

  “He’s dangerous
, Lilith,” Michael firmly stated, and there was a glint of danger in his own eyes when he spoke. He turned to look abhorrently down at the guests below. “The things his mere presence could do to your family’s reputation—”

  “We’re not friends, Mr. Hirosawa,” Lilith snapped, finally regaining some confidence. What was with men today? Was there a tattoo across her forehead screaming, Boss me around? “I only met Eric yesterday. He just stopped by to…to….” She trailed off helplessly, not knowing how to finish the sentence. Why had Eric stopped by?

  Damn, Lilith mentally kicked herself. I was so close!

  “Precisely,” Michael murmured. His eyes focused on her intently, as though he were studying her and making some sort of calculation in his head. “What the hell could he possibly want with you?”

  In that moment, something occurred to Lilith which should have a lot sooner. Her eyes widened and her heart skipped as she demanded, “Mr. Hirosawa—”

  “Michael, please,” he corrected her once more.

  “—how do you know Eric Quisling?”

  Michael gave her a benevolent smile, even tilting his head slightly to the right, as though he were a kindly old man. The gesture chilled her to the bone.

  “Oh, he and I are old acquaintances.”

  Lilith was hardly convinced. Seeing a chance to put him on the defensive, she continued her questioning.

  “Oh?” she raised an eyebrow, turning to fully and comfortably face him. “And how long have you been friendly with that…that ‘rank, sullied little street urchin’?”

  Michael was hardly amused. “I was being facetious.”

  “No, duh,” Lilith snorted. Her face glowed with amusement as she confidently took a step toward him. “So the Hirosawa infamy is not undeserved after all.”