Page 12 of Takeover

“I have a strong physical, sexual attraction to him. And that’s the worst because I hate him. My body has betrayed me. I’m supposed to be thinking about Michael and trying to figure out a way to salvage that relationship, but the truth is, I haven’t thought of Michael in days. I haven’t even decorated my place for Christmas yet, and you all know how much I love Christmas. I’ve been talking myself out of this attraction,” I say, taking a deep breath as I channel my most peaceful thoughts.

“How the fuck do you talk yourself out of an attraction?” Vickie asks.

“I’m going to need something strong to drink if I’m going to have to listen to this.” Alan grabs something from the fridge and pours it into his glass. Even from across the room, I can smell the alcohol.

“And why do you hate him again, Tar?” Vickie asks. “You know he didn’t steal Dad’s company, right? If anything, he saved our legacy.”

“Stop being so rational, twin. If Tar hates him, we hate him,” Alan says.

“Duh, dipshit,” Vickie says, agreeing with our brother. “What I’m saying is that it’s a waste of time to spend energy hating him, especially since you want to fuck him. And Michael is a douche.” For whatever reason, Vickie never warmed up to Michael. Despite being a perfect gentleman the few times they were in the same room, she was never a fan. When I told her about his upcoming move to Denver, she said that relationship was a dead end.

“He’s arrogant and smug. He stands for everything that’s wrong with this world. A man born with a silver spoon in his mouth with the world at his disposal, blessed with good looks and a body to die for. He’s the type of guy who thinks the world belongs to him. And don’t forget he went and basically complained about me to Dad. Dad was seriously pissed at me.”

“Well, you were kind of an ass to him,” Alan reminds me.

“Whatever. I’m over that. I apologized and everything.”

Both Alan and Vickie look at each other and roll their eyes. “One of your non-apologies, Tar?” Vickie asks.

“It doesn’t matter. I don’t want him here ruining my day, playing with my head. A rich, powerful man like that who always gets his way. He’s the devil.”

“Yeah,” Vickie says. “A sexy Satan. Wasn’t Satan sexy before he was cast out of heaven?”

“Sexy Satan?” Alan asks. “What the hell bible are you two reading? I’m gonna google that shit.” He cackles after typing on his phone. “Look at this.” He shoves the phone in my face, revealing women in sexy devil costumes.

“Alan, how the hell are you a college professor? Jesus!” Vickie says, exasperated. “Tar,” she turns her attention back to me, “you know what you should do to get over this sexual attraction?”

“What?” I lean closer to her, waiting to hear her words of wisdom.

“Sex him and sex him good. Lay it on him. Screw his brains out and get him out of your system.”

I huff and twist my mouth at her while Alan sticks an index finger in each ear as he sips his drink out of a straw.

“I’m not going to sleep with him, Vick.”

“Why not? You admitted you’re attracted to him, and from what you told us, I’d bet my next paycheck he’s attracted to you too. Men have been doing this since the dawn of time, so why can’t we? You want him? Have him and then walk away. You’ll feel so empowered. I’m in the midst of a sexual walkabout,” she announces.

“You’re spending six months in the Australian wild?” Alan asks.

“No, idiot,” Vickie says. “I’m going on a sexual journey. I’m not waiting to be in a relationship for sex anymore, that’s all.”

“There you three are,” my dad says, thankfully interrupting our conversation as he walks into the kitchen with our stepmother, Cheryl. “Are you three plotting to take over the world?” The three of us groan. For as long as I can remember, that’s what our dad says every time he finds the three of us together.

“How about some breakfast before we start cooking?” Cheryl smiles at us and reaches over to pat me on the cheek.

“She’s only saying that because you’re here, Dad. She never fed us when we were kids,” Alan says.

“I gave you bread and water when your chores were done,” Cheryl says, without missing a beat.

10

I park right in front of John Taylor’s Sugar Hill home. It’s a quiet, tree lined street in the middle of the city. It’s cool even for this time of year, and I make sure to button Vincent’s coat before helping him out of his booster seat. As excited as he’s been to see Tara again, being here has brought his shyness back. He looks from me to the big house. When I finally pull him out of the car, he grabs onto my leg, the same way he used to when he was much smaller.

“It’s okay, Vince. You remember Tara and her daddy. You liked them.”

He looks up at me with his big blue eyes while holding onto me with one hand and his stuffed frog with another.

“I need your help. Can you carry this?” I hand him a bouquet of flowers I brought for Cheryl Taylor, and he finally lets go of my leg to take it. While he’s holding that, I grab the bottles of wine.

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