Just Perfect! (Persaud Girl) Page 8

  Samantha snapped to attention when she heard a booming voice coming from the foyer.

  “That’s Phillip,” Aunt Phoebe said.

  “Late, as usual!” Uncle Kyle added with a frown.

  Samantha blushed. Phillip! She had left the club without waiting for him to come back. What was she going to say to him? She hoped he would not blab to the family that they had gone to a nightclub. She wondered how he had not tried to call her to make sure she was okay.

  “So sorry to be late!” He said, hurrying to the table. “Got tied up at the office for a bit.”

  “I wonder who had you tied up this time, Phillip!” Aunt Phoebe commented, lifting her Pellegrino to her lips.

  Phillip gave his mother one of his trademark grins. “Love you too, Mother!” He took the one empty seat next to his grandfather.

  “I hear you’re working on a utilities deal now Phillip!” Grandpa Ravi commented.

  “Sure thing!’ Phillip responded. “We pitched on the LBO of RPU by a consortium of private equity firms. I am expecting a whole host of issues, from regulatory to environmental, but nothing we can’t handle.”

  Ravi Persaud smiled. “I’m sure you’ll do a master job, Phillip. You always do”

  Phillip smiled too. He was happy his grandfather was proud of him. “And I was talking Gene Bridges into making us do the option for his new movie,” he continued. “He may take the bait.”

  “Well, just be careful the movie isn’t a flop,” Grandpa said.

  “I’ve read the book and I’ve seen the script. It won’t be!” Phillip promised. “And I’m using my commission to buy a yacht.”

  “Make sure this one doesn’t have any cocaine on it!” Kamilla Secrage warned her brother.

  “Don’t cut yourself on your sharp wit, Kam!” Phillip responded sarcastically.

  When Phillip was a sophomore at Columbia, he had won a yacht in a high stakes poker game. It turned out the previous owner had been using the vessel to transport drugs, and when Phillip had taken possession, there were forty kilos of compressed coke on board. Phillip was arrested for drug trafficking and Uncle Will as Chief Counsel for the New York group had to plead with a few judges to get him off. It also took a few million dollars from his parents’ personal finances to kill the story, and keep the press from having a field day.

  Phillip was unruffled. “Simple misunderstanding!” He had said. “Could have happened to anyone.”

  His father made him return the yacht.

  “I heard that you have quite a promising batch of associates joining this autumn!" Grandpa Ravi asked again.

  “That's right!" Phillip said enthusiastically. “One Jamaican guy in particular. Columbia MBA, really smart, and catches on like a virus. The best we’ve seen in a while. I can’t wait for you to meet him.” He took the plate the maid handed him. “Dinner looks good.” He took a bite and looked at his grandfather. “You know, he's actually a friend of Samantha’s.”

  “No, he’s not!” Samantha snapped.

  “What are you talking about, Samantha?” Phillip countered. “Of course he is your friend.”

  “No, he’s not!” Samantha insisted. “Jeremy Malcolm is not my friend!”

  “Jeremy Malcolm?” Andie put in. “Jeremy Malcolm from UWI? Phillip, he is most definitely not Samantha’s friend!”

  Phillip looked at Samantha and frowned. “But he said…”

  “He lied!” Samantha interrupted sharply.

  Phillip shrugged. “Whatever, Samantha.” Samantha and Jeremy’s relationship was really of no consequence to him. He had been worried when he had returned to Infierno and they were gone. He meant to call her to find out if she was okay, but he had run into an ex-girlfriend - a long legged Gwyneth Paltrow lookalike called Ashley, who was an Associate at the Law offices of Wells and Street. She had taken him to her place and kept him distracted for the rest of the morning. After he left Ashley’s, he had returned to the office with Lexie and Chad to tie up some loose ends, and had not remembered about Samantha until Lexie mentioned her. Fortunately, Jeremy had assured him that she was home safe and that was all that mattered. Whether they liked each other or not was moot. He was just glad he did not have to answer to his mother or his uncle if anything bad had happened to her.

  Samantha sat quietly fuming through the rest of dinner. Why did Phillip have to bring up Jeremy Malcolm? She had almost succeeded in forgetting about him. Suddenly, her cell phone rang.

  “Samantha, dear, no cell phones at the table!” Grandma Sylvia frowned.

  “Sorry Grandma!” Samantha rejected the call, and placed her phone on silent, but could not help checking the number. 917 area code. A Manhattan number, but she could not place it. Must have been a wrong number. Grandpa and Grandma were lamenting on the gross misuse of the cell phone. Grandpa was vehemently declaring that he would never purchase one of those ‘abominable instruments’, and Dr Andrew Persaud was trying to point out how ridiculous he was being. Samantha felt her phone vibrating. She held the instrument on her lap and checked it. One new text message from the same 917 number.

  ‘We need to talk. Jeremy.’

  Samantha flushed. Why on earth was Jeremy Malcolm calling her? How did he even get her number? She glanced at Phillip. Phillip must have given it to him. She was so going to kill him.

  “What is it?” Andie whispered.

  “Nothing!” She whispered back.

  The cell phone vibrated again.

  ‘ASAP. Jeremy’.

  Samantha was getting annoyed. She held her breath and mentally counted backwards from ten. After she killed Phillip for giving Jeremy Malcolm her number, she was going to kill Jeremy. Clearly he was going to stalk her for life.

  A third message came in.

  ‘Urgent. Call me before you talk to Phillip!’

  Samantha was curious. Why should she call Jeremy before she spoke to Phillip? Her curiosity turned to rage. She would call him alright. She would call him back and tell him in no uncertain terms to leave her the hell alone. Did he think that because in a drunken stupor she had allowed him to deflower her that he now owned her?

  Dinner could not end soon enough. As soon as everyone retired to the drawing room, Samantha ran upstairs to her bedroom and dialled Jeremy’s number. He answered after one ring.

  “Samantha?”

  “How’d you get my number?”

  “I have my methods!”

  “What. Do. You. Want?”

  “I already got what I wanted!” Jeremy drawled. “You. Naked in my bed. Eyes rolling back. ‘Oh Jeremy! Make love to me’!”

  Samantha instantly closed her phone, cutting Jeremy off. She was shaking with anger. Her phone instantly began to ring again. It rang four times before she finally opened it. She did not say a word.

  “Samantha, look I’m sorry, alright?” Jeremy apologised. “I should not have done that. I was calling to find out – have you spoken to Phillip? Has he asked you anything about last night?”

  “What’s it to you?"

  “Well, Phillip called me this afternoon. He wanted to know where you went after you left the club…”

  “What did you say to him?” Samantha interrupted, suddenly concerned.

  “I told him I helped you get a cab and you went to your apartment,” Jeremy informed her. “I told him you were tipsy and didn’t want your aunt to see you like that. So if he asks, that’s what you tell him.”

  “You didn’t tell him – you know?”

  “What part of bragging to Phillip - your cousin and my future boss - do you think would be worth my while?" Jeremy asked snidely. "You were not that impressive!"

  “Go to hell, Jeremy.”

  “Samantha, wait!” Jeremy put in quickly, before Samantha could hang up on him again.

  “What?”

  “We didn’t use anything,” he reminded her.

  “Anything like what?” Samantha asked, her mind instantly conjured up images of whipped cream and handcuffs.

  “Like protection�
�”

  Samantha was momentarily jarred. Shit! They hadn't used anything!

  “Did you lie to me?” She whispered. “Do you have some sort of disease?”

  “No, I don’t have a disease!” Jeremy declared. “I take care of my business. I need to know that you take care of yours. Are you on birth control or anything?”

  “Why would I be on birth control, Jeremy?” Samantha asked, relieved that she did not have to explain to her parents why she had herpes or Chlamydia. “Until you weaselled your way into my panties, I never had a cause to worry about controlling birth!”

  “I don’t know,” he put in. “Don’t women take the pill to regulate their periods and shit?”

  “Well, I never needed to take anything!”

  “That figures!” Jeremy commented.

  “And what is that supposed to mean?”

  “You are just so damn perfect!” Jeremy explained meanly. “Even your damn menstrual cycle is perfect.”

  “Whatever, Jeremy!”

  “You should take something to be safe,” Jeremy advised. “I can get you some Plan B.”

  “Isn’t Plan B by prescription? How you plan to get it?”

  “You don’t worry ‘bout that. Just meet me at my apartment in half hour.”

  “I am not meeting you anywhere!” Samantha declared.

  “I don’t want you calling me in a couple of months telling me you’re pregnant!” Jeremy insisted. “It has been more than twelve hours. You should have taken the Plan B already.”

  “You certainly have experience in this arena!” Samantha noted snidely. “Seems you’ve been here before!”

  “Actually you’re my first,” Jeremy told her. “The women I usually sleep with are worldlier than you are. They live on the pill, or at least have the good sense to get their own Plan B afterwards.”

  “Said the worldly man who did not have a box of condoms handy!”

  “I had condoms!” Jeremy reminded her. “I also had a woman who would not have waited for me to get one on! To how you pretty much jumped on me last night like some sort of wildebeest, if I was less of a man I would cry rape!”

  Samantha flushed, remembering. “You couldn’t be less of a man if someone castrated you, Jeremy! And in any event, I am at my birthday dinner now. I can’t just skip out to meet you. And I am not meeting you at your apartment.”

  “Why? Too many fond memories?”

  “You’re testing my patience,” Samantha warned.

  “Not as much as you’re testing mine!” Jeremy countered. “Look, I can get you the Plan B. You want it, or are you willing to play Russian roulette?”

  Samantha was silent for a while. She knew it was better to be safe than sorry. She decided to meet Jeremy, but she would not go to his place.

  “Fine!” She seethed finally. “I’ll meet you tomorrow, but it has to be where no one will know either of us. I don’t want anybody to see me with you.”

  “You can’t come tonight?” Jeremy asked. He decided to ignore Samantha’s last comment.

  “Tomorrow!” Samantha insisted.

  “Okay tomorrow,” Jeremy sighed. “There’s a Starbucks on Spring Street -- just outside the Subway line 6, next to the Kinkos. We can meet there. You know it?”

  “Yes...”

  “What time can you come?” Jeremy asked. “Is ten okay with you?”

  “Ten o’clock tomorrow morning should be fine!” Samantha made a note on the pad by her bed.

  “I’ll call you...”

  Samantha hung up the phone in the middle of his sentence, not to be rude, but because Andie had opened the door, and was standing in the doorway.

  “You can’t knock?” She greeted her sister.

  “Sorry,” Andie apologised. She came in and left the door open. “Who was that?”

  “Who was who?” Samantha asked.

  “Who was that on the phone? Who you planning to meet at ten tomorrow?"

  “No one!” Samantha turned away and placed the phone on her night stand. “And why are you eavesdropping on my telephone conversations?”

  “I wasn’t eavesdropping!” Andie said in her own defence. “I overheard.”

  “Why did you come in here, Andie?” Samantha asked, getting annoyed.

  “I came to find you,” her sister told her. “It’s your birthday. There is a party going on downstairs for you. Your family took planes and shifted their plans for you. You have presents and cake, and you’re hiding away in your room having surreptitious conversations on the phone. Why are you being weird?”

  “I am not being weird. I just wanted five minutes of peace and quiet.”

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Andie persisted.

  “I’m fine. Just leave me alone.”

  “Who were you talking to?”

  “None of your business!” Samantha snapped.

  Andie shrugged. She examined her sister. “You look different!” She noted.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I can’t put my finger on it!” Andie continued. “But something is different. Are you feeling sick?”

  “Do I look like I feel sick to you?” Samantha snapped. Andie was really beginning to bug her.

  “Then why are you hiding up here planning secret meetings and not downstairs enjoying the party?” Andie insisted. “I know you, Samantha. You much prefer being downstairs where everyone can fawn over you, than up here hiding, so I know something is up.”

  Samantha lost her patience. “What the hell is this, Andie? When since I start answering to you?”

  “Yup!” Andie nodded. “Now you’re getting angry. Something is so up. Fine. Don’t tell me. Perhaps if I sent Mommy and Daddy up here, you’ll be willing to tell them…”

  Samantha grabbed her sister’s arm. “I can still break you in two, you little…!” She snarled. Her hazel eyes turned to green as they usually did when she became enraged.

  Andie was accustomed to her sister. Samantha was all bark and no bite. She did not even flinch. “If you break me in two, you’re going to have to explain to Mommy and Daddy why. Wouldn’t it be easier if you just tell me what the problem is, and we can sort it out together?”

  Samantha sighed and released her sister. “I don’t know who told you to go into banking!” She complained, quickly closing her room door. “You should have become a detective!”

  Andie sat on the bed and rubbed her sore arm. She looked at her sister.

  “I’m going to tell you,” Samantha said. “But I know your big mouth. You cannot tell anyone; not even Nathan.”

  “This sounds juicy!” Andie rubbed her hands together in expectation. She loved a good secret, and if it was exciting enough, of course she would have to tell Nate. They told each other everything!

  Samantha took a breath. “I had sex last night. Or rather, this morning.”

  Andie’s eyes grew wide. Her pink mouth formed the perfect O. All five journalistic W’s flashed across her face simultaneously, but all that came out was “Woi!”

  “Are you happy now?” Samantha asked. Her face was red.

  “I wasn’t expecting that!” Andie confessed. “I thought you were going to say you failed something at school. You had sex? What happened to our celibacy pact? What happened to 25 - slash - honeymoon - slash - Seychelles?"

  “Don't even talk about that!"

  “Who did you have sex with?”

  Samantha faced her sister again. “If you repeat any of this, I will kill you, Andie!”

  “I won’t!” Andie promised again. This time she meant it.

  “You’d better not!” Samantha warned. “I went to a club last night with Phillip and got totally drunk on tequila, and…”

  “You had sex with Phillip?” Andie asked incredulously. “Our cousin, Phillip?”

  “No, you ignoramus. I had sex with Jeremy Malcolm.”

  Andie thought she might swallow her tongue. “You had sex with Jeremy Malcolm? The Jeremy Malcolm?”

  “I don’t think there’
s another!”

  “You sacrificed your virtue to Jeremy Malcolm? Jeremy Malcolm, who you don't even like?”

  “Unfortunately...”

  “Why? Did he roofie you?”

  “No Andie, he didn’t ‘roofie’ me. From what I recall it was consensual -- or as consensual as it can be after how many tequila shots!”

  “Well, shock me shitless!” Andie borrowed one of her cousin, Bianca’s expressions.

  “Yeah, me too.”

  Andie grinned wickedly. “So, was he as good as he claims to be?”

  “Get out of my room!” Samantha snapped.

  “Sorry!” Andie looked at her sister. She shuddered at the thought of having sex with Jeremy Malcolm. Yes, he was hot-looking. He looked like an Egyptian prince, with his chocolate brown skin, and straight white teeth, and dimples. And he was so muscled and manly, just oozing pheromones all over the place, and he could certainly wear the heck out of a pair of jeans. But he was Jeremy Malcolm. Samantha must have been really, really drunk.

  “So what are you meeting him for?” Andie asked again. “Are you a couple now?”

  “Of course not!” Samantha retorted.