Chapter 11: Lesson learned

Zoe:

My arms ache from carrying heavy grocery bags up the stairs. I groan loudly at the weight of the bags weighing me down. Unfortunately, the elevator is getting a maintenance check before Sahara gets here.

After what happened this morning with Azazel, I made the decision to write it off as a lesson learned. If I've learned anything from my mother’s experience with John Dawson, it's not to let a man have complete power over you. She did, and look where she is now. He marries young, rich women and keeps my mother as his maid. That's not the kind of life I want for myself.

Bree meets me at the door and reaches for a few bags. “Holy cow. How much food did you buy?” She asks sardonically as she lays it on the kitchen counter. I shrug my shoulders and lay the rest of the bags next to it. “I guess I did get a little overzealous. But you know how Sahara and Marina are.” Bree snickers. “Oh yeah. I know. I just don't get why we go through all this trouble when she's going to take one bite, make a few mean comments and leave. It makes no sense.” I shrug my shoulders. “I don't know. But since she’s letting us rent an apartment and gave me a job, I try not to question her. Now help me empty these bags.” She looks at me from the corner of her eye and begins to empty bags. “Are you ever going to tell me how things went with your hot gladiator?”

Her question makes my body go rigid. I try not to squirm from under her scrutinizing stare, but it's very difficult to do. Somehow I was hoping that I could avoid her questioning. I should have known better than to think she wouldn't ask me. As casually as I can, I begin to empty the bags and pretend to be distracted. Bree is not deterred, though. She blocks my way when I move to put a few things in the cabinet. She has her hands around her waist and a determined scowl. “Well?” She says with a wave of her other hand.

Taking a deep breath, I put my things back on the counter and lean against the opposite wall. “Well… I went over to his place.” I stop talking as emotion wells up inside me in remembrance. Bree waves her hand, impatient to hear all of the details. “And?” She asks. I bite my lip and look down at my nails. “And… we ate breakfast and went for a swim afterward.” My mouth trembles, and tears right blur my vision as I recall how well things went. I lift my hand and wipe my nose with a slight sniffle. “Then, some gorgeous girl showed up, and he told me to leave.”

Everything goes still. You can almost hear a pin drop. I look at Bree to see her standing there with her mouth gaping open. Her face pales, then puckers with anger. “Are you kidding me?” She says in outrage. “Who was she?” I shrug my shoulders and pick up a cereal box to hold it against my body like a shield. “I don’t know. He wouldn't tell me. He just said he was sorry and kicked me out.” Bree lets out a sympathetic grunt and places her arm around me. “So, what are you going to do?”

I tighten my mouth in resolve. “I’m not going to do anything. As far as I’m concerned, he’s just a guy that I had a moment with. And that moment is done.” Bree nods her head in comradery. “I feel your pain, girl. Forget him then. I hope he drowns in the pool.” I snort in amusement. Then we look at each other and break out into gales of laughter. Leave it to Bree to say something that will lift my spirits.

Once we’re done laughing, we straighten up and begin to cook. If thoughts of what could have happened in the pool, sneak up on me, I push them aside. After we’re done with the cooking, we both clean up the apartment, get dressed, and wait for Sahara and Marina to show up. Thankfully, Lana is not here. She hates Sahara with a passion. And instead of dealing with her, she decided to keep out of the way by staying at a friend’s house. The last time Sahara came, Lana nearly threw a bowl of soup on her head. Thankfully, Bree and I were able to defuse the situation before it got out of hand. Needless to say, we keep Lana out of the house whenever Sahara and Marina come around.

It’s true what Bree says. It’s a waste of time to cook for both women. I’ve known Sahara for years. I met Marina a few months before I moved back in with my mother. The first time I met her, I was working at a bar. To my surprise, she and Sahara had walked in looking for some fun. She was staying with Sahara in the mansion at the time. Apparently, she was having a problem with an ex. So Sahara invited her to stay with her.

I remember running into her at the bar a few more times after that. I found it odd that I’d run into her more than I should. Especially considering that I spent most of my time at work. She would always come in, have a few drinks, and ask me the most inappropriate questions. She tried to be friendly at first, but it always came out insincere. I tried to avoid her as much as I could during those days.

She was there the first time I lost control of my power. I remember feeling horribly sick that morning. I could barely get up from my bed. That’s when I began to feel the debilitating exhaustion that has haunted me since. I will never forget that day—the day when everything changed for me.

It had been a late night. Everyone was drinking and having fun. One of the other waitresses, Coral, asked me to sing a song. I loved to sing back then. So I took the stage and sang. The song was an old song about love and loss. I sang it many times before, and it only brought joy to those who heard me. But that night…that night was different. At first, everyone was rejoicing. They were the usual patrons who came in a few times a week to drink.

It began with an argument between two men. It was odd because they were best friends. To date, no one really knew what the argument was about. Before you knew it, both men started fighting. I will never forget the moment when one man took a knife from the bar and stabbed the other one in the chest. Then he turned to a few other people and began to threaten them. Thankfully, a few men were able to restrain him before he killed anyone else. His friend died that night. When the police questioned the man on his motives, he stated that he didn’t know what came over them. According to the police reports, the man says that they were talking when a haze of anger came over him. Unable to bear what he did to his friend, the man committed suicide a few days later. He shot himself in the head.

The local newspaper printed a copy of his suicide note. The note stated that he was sorry for what he did. I didn’t put two and two together until after it happened a second time. That’s when I realized that my gift had turned into a curse.

That was a very dark time for me. The businesses shut down, leaving me without a job, and I had fallen into a deep depression. If it wasn’t for Bree, I think I would have laid down and died of sadness.

Bree and Lana were struggling to survive after their mother died of cancer the year before. But she took the time to care for me. They had lost their home and were nearly homeless when Sahara made me the offer to move into her building. She also offered to give me a job in her bar. It was not the most glamorous place or job and the pay’s shit. But as long as I can help my friend, I’d put up with Sahara’s cruelty and Marina’s creepy attitude.

It’s nearly five o’clock by the time Sahara and Marina come around. They both step into the apartment with a superior smirk. Sahara sniffs loudly and looks around with a sour expression before she moves to our small dinette set and takes a seat. Marina walks in, but she doesn’t take a seat. Instead, she strolls around the apartment and looks around it in interest. “Hi, Marina. How are you?” I ask politely. She gives me a smile reminiscent of a shark’s and stops in front of me. Her gaze runs up and down my body making me feel uncomfortable, then settles on my face. “Zoe. You look tired. I hope Sahara isn’t working you too hard.” I shake my head, trying not to frown at her rude comment. “Of course not, Marina. Sahara has been very generous.”

Marina gives me a sour sneer, grips my arm tightly, and leans close with a sharp glare. I take a deep breath and try to resist the urge to cringe. There’s something about Marina that makes me wary. She’s an attractive woman with pitch-black curly hair and clear icy blue eyes. She’s tall with a slim, supermodel body. Her breasts are small and firm, and her legs are miles long. Her face is classic, with high cheekbones, large eyes, and a button nose. There’s nothing about her that would make anyone suspicious. However, every time I see her, I get this dark feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Trying to keep the revulsion from showing on my face, I gesture to the dinner resting on the kitchen table. “Bree and I made dinner. We’d love it if you joined us.” I say, walking over to the table. Marina follows behind me and sits down on the table reluctantly. Then gives our meal a disdainful glare. Bree and I look at each other in silent communication. Marina acts like we’re feeding her pig slop instead of roasted turkey breast, with steamed asparagus and red baby potatoes. Bree and I are both excellent cooks. But we might as well have fed her a bowl of worms for dinner with the way she’s acting. As always, she pretends to take a bite of asparagus and chews slowly.

Sahara pours a glass of red wine, takes a sip, and says, “What do you think of my gladiators, Zoe?” I straighten in my chair stiffly and take a sip of my own drink. “I think that you’re a great businesswoman,” I say diplomatically. I don’t know why she’s asking me, but I refuse to give away too much information. Sahara is a very volatile woman. She can make my life hell if she feels that I slighted her in some way. Either way, what happened between Azazel and me is pointless to discuss, considering it ended as soon as it started. No, when it comes to Sahara, it’s better to not say anything at all than guess her intentions.

Marina shifts her food around her plate and watches our interaction with interest. She reminds me of a snake waiting to strike on its prey. It’s disconcerting. Bree and I have compared their visits to sitting at dinner with lions. You just sit there and make no sudden moves. Because if you do, they’ll pounce and rip you to shreds. Bree sits quietly in her seat and waits patiently for dinner to end.

At one point, Sahara shifts in her seat and chuckles drunkenly. She must have pre-gamed it before she came. Bree and I always notice that her breath smells like vodka every time she comes to visit. “You should see them, Marina. My gladiators are divine. Especially my new ones.” She shivers in delight and takes another sip. Marina raises an intrigued brow and jeers. “Looks like Sahara has a little crush. How cute.” She says nastily.

Then she turns to me and smirks. “How about you, Zoe? Do you have any interests?” I shrug my shoulders and look away in disinterest. “I don’t have any interest in being with anyone right now.” Which is not a lie now that Azazel and I fell apart so easily. Marina persists. “Are you singing again?” My breath hitches as if she has stabbed me in the gut. But I don’t let her see it. I shake my head without expression. “No, I don’t. I’m too busy.” Marina puckers her mouth into a sour scowl. “You should make time for it, Zoe. I’m sure it would be therapeutic for you.” I refuse to comment any further as I take a bite of my turkey breast.

A moment later, Marina rises from her chair and says, “I need to go to the ladies’ room.” Bree and I look at each other in silent communication again. Marina always does this. Every time she comes here, she asks to use the restroom. Bree and I speculate that she washes her hands because she dirties them, touching our things. I wave towards the door next to our room. “You know where it is.”

We all watch as she makes her way to the door and disappears. After a few moments, Marina walks back out and says, “We better go, Sahara. I have some important things to take care of.” Sahara rises from her chair to join her, then turns to us. “Don’t forget you have a shift tonight, Zoe.” She makes to leave but then stops as if she remembered something and turns back. “Oh, and I spoke to Dusty. You will be working at Galea permanently from now on. One of my investors, Gabe, liked you. You will be his waitress from now on.”

I take a deep breath, feeling dread crawl down my back. If I have to serve Gabe, I will have to be around Sahara’s table, and in the process, run into Azazel. I guess my life sucks more than I thought. But I don’t let Sahara see my panic. Instead, I give her a blank smile. “Yeah, sure, Sahara.”

Once Sahara and Bree are out the door, Bree and I fall back on the couch and sigh with relief. “It feels like she’s here forever every time she comes around,” Bree says with a tired groan. I chuckle sardonically in response. “Well, at least she’s not making you work as a waitress for a jerk who kicked you out of his house because he has another girl waiting for him.” Bree grimaces at my words. “Shit Zoe. You really know how to get into drama, don’t you?” I snort at her words and look straight ahead. Leave it to Bree to put my life in perspective.