Just Perfect! (Persaud Girl) Read online

  “Yeah, I try," Jeremy responded. “Wrapping up this semester. I have an offer at Persaud Financials for when I’m through.”

  “You gonna take it?”

  “You know as well as I do that I’d be stupid not to...” He looked wistful for a moment. “But on the other hand, I miss my mother and my sister. I should go home and be with them...”

  Samantha looked at him. “For a moment there it was as though you have a heart!”

  “Of course I have a heart! You just never took the time out to notice!” Jeremy rolled his eyes, then motioned to Samantha’s shot glasses. “Drink up. You’re behind.”

  She obeyed, swallowing a shot, making them even again.

  Samantha was not sure where the time went as she continued to laugh and chat with Jeremy. They downed more tequila as they discussed graduate school, Economics courses, New York life and even some UWI memories. They even discovered that they lived mere blocks away from each other. Jeremy lived in SoHo, in the apartment of a distant cousin, who was away in Norway working on his PhD. Samantha could not remember Jeremy being so much fun. Then again, she could not recall ever having a civilised conversation with him.

  “So how is Micah?” Jeremy finally asked.

  “We broke up.”

  “Really?” Jeremy’s brows met his hairline. “What happened?”

  Samantha’s head was certainly spinning, and her tongue felt heavy. She had to talk very slowly to get the words out. “Another girl. Some bitch called Ronica Davis.”

  “Never heard of her!” Jeremy shook his head. “She must be the second coming of Halle Berry to lure Micah away from you.”

  “Au contraire, my friend!” Samantha said, swallowing another drink. “She’s a real dog face.”

  “You lie!”

  “Nope, no lie,” Samantha giggled stupidly. “Said he wasn’t in love with me anymore. Can you believe it? Samantha Charlotte Persaud got dumped for a fugly girl!”

  Jeremy shook his head. “Micah is a real idiot.”

  “Yep, he is!”

  They sat looking at each other for a while.

  “What?” Samantha asked.

  “Nothin’…” Jeremy swallowed another shot of tequila. He had missed count of how many he had consumed, and realised that he was more than a little tipsy now.

  “C’mon, what?” Samantha prodded. “You’re thinking something. I can see the wheels in your big old semi-bald head turning, turning, turning. What is it?”

  Jeremy looked away from her. “I was thinking that I am glad you broke up. I didn’t think you and Micah were right for each other.”

  “What you mean?” Samantha asked.

  “Too boring, man! You needed someone more – more exciting; someone who could loosen you up. Give you chills!”

  “Someone like you?”

  “Hell, yeah,” Jeremy nodded.

  “In your dreams!” She downed another shot.

  “Hell, yeah!” Jeremy smirked.

  Samantha looked at him. It took her a full ten seconds to digest his meaning. “You nasty freak! You’re so gross!” She exclaimed, pushing him playfully.

  “And can I just tell you -- in my dreams you are very creative, Samantha Persaud! Not as crisp as you are in real life!”

  Samantha glared at him. “Are you saying I’m uptight?”

  “That’s pre-zactly what I am saying!” Jeremy poked her shoulder. “But if you’d have given me half a chance, I woulda wore you down.”

  Samantha blushed. “I can’t believe you’re saying this to me!”

  Jeremy shrugged. “Should have told you years ago – from UWI but I didn’t have the balls, then Elliott beat me to it…”

  “Wait a minute,” Samantha interjected. “Are you saying you liked me at UWI?”

  “Who said anything about ‘liked’?”

  Samantha’s hazel eyes grew to the size of saucers. “You like me now?”

  Jeremy shrugged again. He nursed the shot for a moment before finally swallowing it. “It has been constant state of being since UWI.”

  “No. No, no, no, no, no!” Samantha threw back a glass of tequila forgetting the whole ‘lick then suck’ routine. “That’s impossible.”

  “Why is it impossible?” Jeremy asked.

  “Because you’re a womaniser and a creep!” Samantha said. “You don’t like anybody but yourself!"

  “True that!” Jeremy examined the bottle. It was empty. “But then you came along, and I realised I like you too. Couldn’t tell you back then, ’cause you were so hung up on your beloved Micah... And I finally begin to forget about you then bam – here you are...”

  Samantha looked at him and shook her head. “You’re joking right? Did Phillip put you up to this?”

  “No. I’m serious!” He stood, wondering when the floor of Infierno had become so wobbly. “You want more drinks?”

  “I’m not drinking anything more for the night,” Samantha shook her head. “Unless it’s water. Yo, those shots are potent!”

  “For real!” Jeremy agreed sitting again. “Cause a man to lose his damn mind and start confessing stuff…”

  “You’re telling me!”

  “But at least now you know!”

  “Yes, now I do!”

  Samantha looked at him -- really looked at him. It was as though she was seeing him for the first time. For the first time she saw someone other than 'The Incredible Hunk', the immature creep who was on the receiving end of her disdain when she used to hang out on Preston Hall back when she was an undergraduate. Tonight, she did not see the loser who treated women as instruments to be used and thrown aside like cheap toys. Now she was looking at a strong, handsome, vulnerable man who had confessed that for years he had liked her, but was never able to do anything about it. How could she not have known, she wondered. As Samantha sat staring into the dimpled face that suddenly seemed so close to hers, she knew. She felt it. He would never have left her. He would never have broken up with her, especially for Ronica. He might have been a jerk to other girls, Andie included, but if she had only noticed him back then, he would have been good to her.

  Maybe it was the tequila shots, maybe it was the sultry Mariachi beat coming from the speakers ... maybe it was a combination of both, but Samantha felt something happening inside her. She was beginning to feel a strange sensation in her stomach. Her head was spinning and she could not think straight. Jeremy was getting cuter and cuter by the second, and all she could think was how awesome it would be to kiss him. Obviously, he had the same thought, because all of a sudden, there he was, leaning in to kiss her. But she couldn't kiss ‘The Incredible Hunk’, could she? Not him, and certainly not here. She was certainly not the kind of girl who made out with boys in public places.

  But why not? Why couldn't she be? After all, all the years of being the other girl, the stick in the mud, everything must be 'just so' girl hadn't worked out for her. Her boyfriend had dumped her, because, according to Phillip, she had a stick up her ass.

  Samantha closed her eyes. What could it hurt, anyway? She would give him a little kiss, to make up for all those time she had been mean to him. Before she could change her mind, Jeremy’s lips were touching hers. He tasted like tequila and lime and salt, and he was a much better kisser than Micah. She was feeling things that she had never felt with Micah... He kissed her slowly, but firmly, like he didn't want to stop. That was okay. She didn’t want him to stop, either. An entire dictionary of words raced through Samantha’s mind as Jeremy eased her back into the plush leather couch -- words like succumb, surrender, submit ... but not stop. Under no circumstances did she want to stop kissing him....

  Jeremy was going to be her birthday present to herself, she decided. A reckless birthday present, but who cared? For once in her life she was going to throw caution to the wind and make out with 'The Incredible Hunk' in Infierno. Then when Phillip came back to get her, she never have to look at him again… After that, no one - not Phillip, not her Grandfather, not Bridget, not Nikki -- could t
ell her that she was stodgy and miss perfect.... This was liberation night. The first night of the beginning of a life without plans and rules....

  43

  Just Perfect!

  chapter three

  The incessant ticking woke her. Samantha opened her eyes and looked around the strange room. Her head felt heavy and fuzzy, and her mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton. She tried to swallow, but she had no saliva. Her eyes felt dry and gritty, as she had slept in her contact lenses.

  What the dickens was going on? She wondered. Where was she? She was not at Aunt Phoebe’s. She was not at her apartment. She was not even in her bedroom in Norbrook. She closed her eyes, first, to block out the glare of the sun and second, so she could concentrate. That damn ticking clock was riding her last nerve. Every tick was like a gong going off in her head. She was seriously hung over. That would be the last time she ever went anywhere with Phillip…

  Samantha bolted up in the bed, as bits and pieces of the previous night started coming back: Infierno, Phillip, ‘that moron, Gordon’, Jeremy Malcolm, tequila shots…

  “No, no, no!” She muttered, closing her eyes again. “No, please, no…”

  She opened her eyes and slowly looked across. Sure enough, she was in bed with Jeremy Malcolm.

  “No!” She screamed, bolting out of bed and pulling the comforter around her body. Unfortunately, there was only one comforter, and wrapping it around herself meant that Jeremy was totally exposed and in plain view. “No! No! No!” She continued to scream.

  “What - what’s happening?” Jeremy stammered, bolting up too. His eyes were sealed shut, blocking out the light.

  “Jeremy Malcolm, what the hell did you do to me?” She screamed.

  Jeremy’s eyes popped open, and he instantly recalled the early morning of beautiful love making with Samantha Persaud. He smiled at the thought of a repeat performance.

  “This cannot be happening! Samantha screamed again.

  “Samantha, what’s wrong?” Jeremy was groping in vain for another comforter. He got out of bed, but could not readily put his hands on a pair of shorts.

  “What’s wrong? What’s wrong?” Samantha repeated. “Don’t you see what’s wrong? Did I... Did we... Please tell me we didn’t... Ohmigod, ohmigod,... We – I – you... –Did you drug me?”

  “No!” Jeremy said indignantly. “If my memory serves me correctly, you were more than a willing participant in this!” He finally found a pair of boxers and pulled them on.

  “I was drunk!” Samantha screamed. “I was drunk, and you took advantage of me, you – you – you reprobate!”

  Jeremy was confused. Was she for real? When she had pretty much begged him last night to take her back to his place -- her apartment wouldn't work, she had said, because she had roommates. He remembered asking if she was drunk. And she had told him no. Over and over she had insisted that she was not drunk; that she just wanted to be with him. And now she was yelling at him, and her yelling was not helping the massive tequila induced migraine he just realised he had woken up with.

  “Can you just calm down and stop the damn shouting?” He yelled back.

  “I cannot calm down, and I cannot stop the damn shouting!” Samantha closed her eyes. “Oh my God, this isn’t happening! How could you let this happen, Jeremy? Didn’t you see I was drunk?”

  “You said you weren’t drunk!” He pointed out. “I asked you.”

  “And you believed me?” Samantha’s eyes were wide with rage. “People who are drunk don’t know that they’re drunk!” She realised how stupid that statement sounded as soon as it had left her mouth. “Oh my God! This is a nightmare!” She began to cry; loud gulping sobs.

  “Samantha…” Jeremy moved towards her, intending to give her a hug.

  “Don’t come near me!” She screamed. “Stay where you are.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said, simply because he did not know what else to say.

  “Yes!” Samantha sobbed. “You are sorry and you are pathetic. Just get out of here and leave me alone.”

  “This is my apartment!” Jeremy pointed out.

  “Whatever!” She held the sheet closer around her body. “Where are my clothes?”

  Jeremy was beyond confused and now officially annoyed. “Same place you stepped out of them!” He returned tartly. “Same place you left them when you came naked and purring in my arms, begging me to make love to you!”

  “Shut up!” She screamed, lunging at him with tight fists.

  He was too quick for her. He grabbed her wrists before she could connect with his face, and the comforter fell to the ground. Once again Samantha found herself standing in front of her nemesis, totally undressed and vulnerable.

  “Let me go!” She snapped, fighting him for all she was worth. “Let go!”

  “Samantha, stop!” Jeremy commanded, not letting go. “Stop it! Just stop freaking out! Are you going crazy?”

  “Let go!” She cried. “You’re hurting me!”

  Jeremy reluctantly let go, and watched as Samantha quickly retrieved the comforter and wrapped it around herself once more. She was looking at him warily, tears on her face.

  “What are you looking at me like that for?” He said. “I didn’t do anything to you that you didn’t want me to do, trust me.”

  Samantha did not respond. She was still staring at him, and shivering like a frightened puppy.

  “Look,” Jeremy said sensibly. “Go have a shower – a nice long warm shower, and I’ll make you some breakfast and we can talk…”

  “I don’t want to talk to you!” Samantha sniffled.

  “You’ll change your mind after you shower,” he said. He removed a towel and a robe from the closet, and moved towards her. “Here…”

  “Don’t touch me!”

  “I’m not touching you, you freak!”

  “Don’t come any closer!” Samantha reached for the towel, gingerly taking it so their fingers did not even brush.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” Jeremy asked, with a shake of his head. “Anyone seeing us would believe I wanted to hurt you.”

  “You’ve already hurt me, Jeremy Malcolm!” Samantha said tightly. “You stay the hell away from me!”

  She slipped into the bathroom and dropped the sheets. She looked at her reflection in the full length mirror and for the first time in her life was grossed out by what she saw. She had love bites all over. What the hell did she do? Little by little flashbacks from the night before came back to her. It had started in the club, then continued in the cab and then the elevator... How could she have been so stupid? How could she have gotten so wasted that she went and had sex? With Jeremy Malcolm of all people? And the worst part was, from Jeremy’s intimation and her own memories, she had enjoyed every second of it. But that was last night when she was high on tequila and Micah hurt.

  Samantha ran the shower until the water was steaming hot. It was only then that she stepped in, trying to scrub the memories from her body if not from her head. There were two pains she could not scrub away no matter how hard she tried: the soreness between her legs—a sure sign that she was ‘a maiden no more’, and the pain in her heart. She had wanted her first time to be with someone she loved, and who loved her. It was supposed to be on her wedding night -- her honeymoon in the South pacific when she was twenty-five, not a drunken one night stand that she could only recall in bits. She thought about Micah. For the past two years, he was the only man she had ever dreamed of being with. Now it would never happen. Even if there was no Ronica. She would never be able to give Micah her everything. She had already given it to Jeremy.

  Samantha leaned on the wall of the shower and wept as though the world had come to an end.

  ***

  Jeremy removed a Jimmy Dean breakfast bowl from the freezer and placed it into the microwave. He set the timer and glanced at the locked bathroom door. Samantha had been in there for an awfully long time. The shower was still running. He wanted to go in and check that she had not drowned her
self, but honestly he was afraid. Samantha was freaking out, and she had every right to. He should have known better. Of course she had been drunk. Samantha Persaud, the cool coquette he had known at UWI would never have agreed to sleep with him sober! But drunk? That was a different story. She had been wild and unstoppable last night -- as though the tequila had unlocked twenty-two years of pent up passion. And most surprising of all, she was a virgin! He could not believe that after two years with Micah, Samantha was still a virgin! Being Samantha Persaud’s first lover was as awesome as he had anticipated. For him, it was a dream come true. But it was Samantha’s worst nightmare.

  Jeremy sighed and poured himself a glass of clamato juice, the perfect remedy for a hangover. At his feet by the kitchen counter were Samantha’s dress and undergarments – if those flimsy bits of fabric could be classified as underwear. He picked them up and took them to the bed, which still bore the evidence of his discovery. Jeremy stripped the bed, deciding it would be better to get rid of them before Samantha came out of the shower. The sight of the marred sheets would probably make her even more upset. He dumped the sheets into the laundry basket, deciding he would take them to the Laundromat downstairs later in the day. Then, he busied himself spreading a clean set on the bed.

  The microwave went off the second Samantha emerged from the bathroom. She looked pale and beautiful, dressed in his white bathrobe. She had apparently shampooed her hair, because it hung in wet strands on her shoulders.

  “I thought you were trying to bleach white in there!” Jeremy tried to joke, as he set two glasses on the counter top table.

  Samantha stared at him blankly.

  “Come eat some breakfast.”

  “Where’s my dress?” She asked shortly.

  Jeremy motioned to the violet dress, along with her Burberry coat, which were hanging limply on a hanger. Samantha removed the dress and coat and returned to the bathroom. She emerged ninety seconds later - not that Jeremy was counting - fully dressed. She had pulled her damp hair into a ponytail using a rubber band she had found in the bathroom.