The Difference - Chapter 7

Chapter 7



In a trance, Lisa walked toward the cab she had instructed to wait outside. She was not upset, not hurt…she was numb.  The sunlight hit her face and the ice layer on her feelings started to melt.  She told the cabbie she would walk and gave him double his fare for his trouble. Then she started down south on 5^th Avenue still in a slight daze. It was quite a way back to the Plaza Hotel, but hey, it was a warm day and she needed time to think.  New York was one of those rare places where you could be surrounded by millions of people yet keep that bubble of personal space allowing the luxury of total immersion in thought. And that’s what she needed: she needed to think, needed to regroup.

Well, seeing Michael had gone well.  Compared to having run into a burning warehouse. How humiliating!  She had thought it had been such a bright idea to track Michael down via Katherine and to simply seek him out.  Nothing simple about that plan, as it turned out. Sure, she had expected him to be mad and maybe even distant, but she was fairly certain he would listen to her, understand where she was coming from, and forgive her. He was such a gentle, forgiving soul after all.  Her ass! Had she forgotten the lengths he would go to after banning certain people from his life? How long had it taken her to win back a shred of trust?  Four years?  Before she had done it again in a knee-jerk panic reaction.  Still, this was the story of Michael and Lisa.  There was always another chapter, always room for another little side note.  Another hot and heavy interlude.  Heck, some idiotic, slightly unrealistic part of her had probably expected they might leave together. 

She had been such a conceited fool.  It had been humiliating enough to initially be denied entrance by his bodyguard.  That alone had been an unusual experience, to say the least. She had always enjoyed card blanche access to him.  In the old days, there had been a standing order to always let Miss Presley through.  She guessed the old days were finally over.

Well, she had made her way in anyway, would not be denied her chance to make things right.  Of course, she had expected him to be slightly upset at her still. He would give her the cold shoulder, but so what?  She had always been able to melt him.  What she had not counted on was to see some tall, dark bimbo appear and hang on his arm. 

Julia. 

Just Julia.  No last name.  Who was the chick? Cher?

Which was why she had not felt the need to provide her last name, either, after Michael had so rudely refused to introduce her.  Her face was all the introduction she needed. 

Who was this bitch?  And why was she hanging all over Michael?  At first she thought it was just someone belonging to his entourage.  Maybe a nanny.  He liked to keep his staff close and was not beyond signaling one or the other to step in when he needed to be rescued without making a stand himself.  Lisa used to be part of that game.  It once had been up to her to keep people away.  Now she was on the other side of that equation.  This thought alone almost made her cry.

But no, Julia was clearly not staff.  Michael was not that close to people around him.  Not in public anyway.  And he had been more than obvious about his desire to touch Julia. The name left a bitter taste in her mouth and she felt like vomiting.  Michael had put his arm around her, had let her cozy up to him, while he had recoiled from Lisa’s hand as if she had poured acid on him. 

When had Michael ever retreated from her touch?  Touching him had always been her secret weapon.  He had never been able to resist that electric connection they shared.  They might have had knock-out, drag down fights, might have screamed at each other until they both were hoarse, might have destroyed half their household, but one touch, one look, and they ended up ripping each other’s clothes off.  Or not.  Clothes had never been an effective barrier to keep them from jumping into the fire pit of their desires. 

She felt the tongues of that very desire licking at her when she finally was in his presence.  God, he looked so good.  Thin, but good.  His face was smooth and had lost the gaunt appearance she had witnessed during coverage of the trail.  His hair was straight again, and while she missed the curls, she realized he had to change with the times.  He wore suits now- gone were the jeans and perpetual red shirts.  Had he finally grown up?  Had he outgrown her?  Had he somehow become as indifferent as she had lied about being?  Was he immune to what they once shared and could not manage to completely destroy as hard as they had tried? 

Her cellphone rang and she stopped cold, hoping against hope that it would be Michael calling.  Maybe he already regretted his cold demeanor.  Maybe he was ready to talk; no, to listen. 

“Oh good, you’re finally answering that phone.”

Alecia. 

Not Michael at all. Her heart sank.

“Hi there.”

“You sound like shit.  Don’t tell me you went through with it and went to the Big Apple.”

“Ok, I won’t tell you.”

“Well screw it all to hell, Lise.  Why do you do that to yourself?”

Good question.  Glutton for punishment?  Her masochistic streak?  Her tendency to mess up current relationships for running after her ex?  A mixture of all of the above?  Having been infected by a taste of Michael in her blood that has led to a lifelong case of malaria like fever….

“I don’t know.  You know me. I like a challenge.”

“Have you seen him?”

“Oh yeah…”

“Went that well, hum?”

“He had some tall, gorgeous, exotic beauty on his arm who had the ‘freshly fucked by the King of Pop’ look.”  Saying it out loud almost made her cry.  She blinked her tears away and swallowed the knot in her throat.  That was what had been bugging her about this.  Her instincts were trying to tell her, but she had so far refused to listen.  The woman was not just a friend.  There had been something about her behavior that conveyed intimacy. 

No, she had to be wrong.  Michael did not do ‘casual sex.’

But what if it had not been casual?  She was, after all, right there on an outing with Michael’s children. Maybe they were dating?  Maybe he had fallen in love again. The tightness in her chest was surely due to walking too fast and talking on the phone.  Maybe she should call her cardiologist.  Right after calling her shrink.

“Lisa. I’m sorry.  But maybe it’s for the best.  I mean, you are still with Lockwood, right?”

“Yeah.  Oh fuck…”  She told Michael she was engaged to Lockwood.  Oh well, not like he would follow up on this to find out if it was true.  What was he gonna do?  Google them?  The thought made her laugh. 

Maybe she should marry Lockwood, correcting her lie.  Her mother would be thrilled.  And maybe it would finally close that door on her feelings for Michael.  That pandora’s box that had been pried open with some kind of ramrod.   Only, trying to put the genie back into the bottle with a wedding band had not worked out all that wonderfully in the past.  Poor Nic, she still felt a tad bit guilty about having married him as a remedy against the fatal KOP virus.

“Lisa, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, I just realized you are right. Lockwood and I are still together.  Maybe it’s time I remembered that.  Or I will fuck up again.”

“Ok…that was an odd and quick switch.  Don’t hate me, but I’m not convinced.”

Lisa managed to laugh.  Alecia knew her way too well.

“I could never hate you.  I’ll call you later ok, thanks for checking on me.”

Clicking her phone shut, Lisa hailed a cab, suddenly driven by a whole new sense of urgency. 

Ten minutes later she entered her room at the Plaza.  She had managed to check up on the kids who were enjoying a trip with their father to Hawaii.  Danny was a bit surprised to hear she was in New York, but he knew she was recording and that she liked to do so in one of the studios here.  The next call was to her mother.  Might as well get it out of the way as she found four missed calls from Priscilla. 

“Hey, mother.”

“Lisa! Where in the world are you? I tried to come over earlier and you weren’t home.”

Sorry, I spoiled your surprise attack, mother.

“You might have tried calling first. I know it's a boring, bourgeois concept, but it can help save on gas."

“Just because I can’t reach you on the phone does not mean you are not home.  I was in the area anyway. No harm done.”

Lisa shook her head and a dry smile appeared.  Sure, she was.  Priscilla always had a plan.

“Anyway, sorry you wasted a trip.  I am in New York.”

“Excuse me?  I thought you just said you were in New York.”

“I did.  I have some stuff to take care of.”

“Stuff? Lisa, does Michael know where you are?”

“Lockwood?  Yeah, he will fly out later to meet me.”

She had informed Lockwood of her travel plans on her way to LAX.  She also told him that she would have a ticket waiting for him if he wanted to join her.  Really, she had no earthly clue what she was doing here.  Even though she had high hopes of getting Michael to talk to her, she also put a plan B in motion to prevent ending up alone and desperate.  How fucked up could she be?  How was this ever going to work if she continued to burn the candle from both ends?  On the other hand, better a Lockwood in the hand than his Royal Majesty in a tearoom with his bimbo. 

“Ok, I guess that’s good.” Priscilla sounded unconvinced.

Lisa lit a cigarette.

“Lisa-Marie, are you smoking again?”

No, mother, I am smoking still.  Are you shooting botox up your face still?  Jeeze!

“No, mother, what makes you think that?” What a bullshit artist she was.  One day that major accomplishment would surely grace her tombstone.

Lisa-Marie Presley. Daughter of the King.  Wife and whore of the other King.  Major Bullshit Artist.

Another deep drag.

“The breath you just took.”

“I was yawning.”

“Am I boring you?”

Ahhhh, yes…but when has that ever stopped you?

“How could you ever be anything but entertaining, Priscilla?”

“Lisa, what has gotten into you today?  Why did you fly out at the drop of a hat?  Please tell me you are not having relationship problems with Michael.  He is the one man you need to stay close to.  He loves you and he adores the children.”

Yes, he was a prince. Would it do any good to point out that the sex sucked at times?  And that you shouldn’t let shoe size fool you?

What was wrong with her today?

“Ok, so Mom, I will be back in town soon.  I don’t think I can hear you anymore….the connection is getting really bad.  Love you, call you back later.”

She snapped her phone shut.  Ok, that went well. 

The home front was taken care of successfully.  She checked her emails on the laptop she had brought with her and discovered Lockwood had emailed her his travel plans.  So, he was joining her...or following her.  Great.  Lisa could not explain why it irritated her that he always relented.  What was so horribly wrong with a man who wanted to be around her 24/7 and who always considered her opinion?  Was this not much better than having to fight like a dog for every scrap of time and attention you could get?  For taking handouts of love and affection whenever it was convenient for the one doling out his love like a scarce source of food.  So rare, so cherished…so essential to survival.

One more call.  Lisa went to her purse and looked for the card.  Ah, there it was.  Her friend Brett just happened to be in the country, what a marvelous coincidence.  She had ordered something from him, and this week would be the perfect time to pick up her order.  Actually, she had ordered the painting several years back.  She had planned to give it to Michael on his birthday before he once again had done the unthinkable.  He had blackmailed her with a child one last time.  And not only did he go out and get the other child, he also had told her that her refusal to create a family would be the final sign that she had been- how did he put it so eloquently- full of shit for years. 

Funny, how this classy, quiet man could curse with the best of them when he was with her.  There were so many times she had truly been amazed at his vocabulary.  He was extremely well read - so, he could out-curse her not only in this language, but quite a few others.  A wave of red hot heat and desire washed over her as she allowed herself to recollect the times when Michael, buried deep inside her, at the verge of cuming, had sworn up a storm.

Afterwards, after being able to catch her breath, she would tease him about it, and he told her with that dirty little smirk that it was all for the benefit of her continued education.  Oh, he had provided an education alright! And not only in languages… She had never known such sexual stamina to exist in anyone.  From that first kiss, she had suspected that the quiet, calm, collected man was hiding a raging inferno inside.  Making love for the first time had been death and rebirth. 

Lisa before Michael ceased to exist.  The girl who always stood outside herself when allowing someone to have sex with her in attempts to guard her body and spirit became lost in her passion and her love.  Pride and restraint were gone.  Willingly, she handed him the reigns to her body, her heart, her soul, and her mind. The unicorn had consented to become a carousel horse.  Only, the thrilling merry-go- round gave way to disorienting nausea, blurred vision, and permanent headaches.  Still, once you got off that ride, your body tricked you into thinking you still were in the same perpetual motion.

Brett was not surprised to hear from her, as Lisa had called him days ago, after realizing they both would be in New York.  Maybe he would do her a favor one more time.  What could it hurt to ask? 

“So, Lisa, will you come get the painting?”

“Well, I will…but, I have a favor to ask first.”

He laughed.  “I am almost afraid to find out what it will be.”

As was she.  But she was willing to risk it all in one last move. 

His answer surprised her. 

“Well, this might be easier than you think.  It just so happens there will be a little get-together.  And since you are in town, I would love to have you.”

Sometimes the stars align and all your wishes are within you reach.  The only tricky thing is, you have to be really careful what you ask for, as you might be up shit’s creek without a paddle if it comes true and you don’t know what the hell to do with your gift.  Or your goal might have appeared real and tangible until you tried to grasp it and your fingers touched nothing but air.  Either way, Lisa was not about to worry about any of that.  She had a mission, she had a plan, and she was willing to take all her chips and bet them in one crazy attempt at hitting the jackpot.

 (to be continued)

Image "Pyramids" from:

http://hydrogenballoonclown.blogspot.com/

©2010 Erika B Michaels. All Rights Reserved. This story is a work of fiction. Any names, places, and other identifying features are used in a fictional manner, for entertainment purposes only, and are in no way representative of actual events. This work may not be reproduced, copied, transmitted, or stored without expressed written permission by Erika B Michaels. All photos and images, mentioned songs or song titles are copyright their creators. 

The Difference is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.