The loud BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ wakes her up with a jump. The phone vibrates across the dresser and lights up the darkened room. Crawling out of the blankets and into the cold, Emma grabs it from its place and dashes back into covers. "Happy birthday!"
"Aren't you up a bit early?" She moans and tries to wake up more. Looking over she's glad to see Jules' is already gone. Emma's really not in the mood to take the call to the hallway.
"I'm a businessman, Emily," Roman tries to sound authoritative. "I do business. Early bird gets the worm, you know."
"I'm going to hang up," Emma threatens.
"You won't get your present with that attitude."
"We don't do presents, Roman," she reminds him.
"New tradition: we do present's now."
"I don't want to do presents," she protests.
"This one's a little selfish so..."
"Like all things you do?"
"Yes, like all things," he laughs.
"Fine. What's the present."
"It'll come later," he promises and laughs at her groan.
"Goddamn you," she huffs. "Are you coming up this weekend?"
"No." She pouts to herself. "Study for your finals."
Like he said, the present does come later. It's at the front desk of her dorm and she grabs it on her way back from class. It's very Roman in its minimalistic packaging. Just brown parchment paper and a name tag. It's not very heavy and she waits until she's back in her dorm to open it.
She unwraps it rather carelessly, expecting it to be something dumb like a scarf or a gift card. It's wrapped pretty tightly and she has to use her fingernails to pull at the tape on the box. When it's finally open she rolls her eyes and huffs. Her guess wasn't too far off and her hands are already on her phone. Two rings and he answers.
"Roman. Why'd you get me a bathing suit?" She asks unamused and already knowing the answer.
"Hot tub," he quips back.
"Mhmm," she replies.
"It's cold as fuck," he complains. "They say it's going to be the coldest winter since 1982," he babbles. "A lot of snow too."
"Cut to the chase," she groans.
"We're gonna go get some sun." She doesn't have to respond for him to know what face she's making. "Come on. It's mainly for me. I need a break. I need a tan. I need to drink vodka out of a coconut."
"I feel like coconut rum would be the better choice."
"There we go!" He smiles. "I knew you wouldn't fight me too much."
"That wasn't a yes," she protests knowing she will say yes. Even though she hates accepting things from Roman, always leaving any clothing he brings her at his hotel room, a vacation sounds very nice. She hasn't been on one since Olivia took them to Hawaii in middle school. And that wasn't exactly a fun time.
"Oh, I wasn't asking for a yes. I knew you'd say yes, I just wasn't sure how much of a pain in the ass you'd be about it."
"I'm going to continue being a pain in the ass about it," she assures him.
"Why are you so against fun?"
"Please tell me we're doing something normal."
"We're doing something normal."
"Like a hotel in Florida. Normal by my standards."
"Okay. We are not doing something normal, then." She can hear his smugness. He thinks he's so funny.
......
"Um," Emma looks around the dimly lit room. Her eyes are still pierced by the projector but at least most of the faces are blocked. "Something that I found particularly interesting while researching was that there isn't as much of a pop culture fascination with the Celtic region than there is in say in Greek or Roman mythology. Most of the written sources from-from Eastern travelers like Caesar."
Emma mumbles through the next few slides only stopping to scratch her head once. "Then, for the most part, I focused on a couple types of faeries and the Cailleach."
"What that?" She hears her professor ask.
"It literally means hag," she chuckles. "She's also called Beira, Queen of Winter. She's a weather deity. There a lot of other deities that I liked, but she has a lot of connections with physical locations and landscapes so it was a little easier to piece it together with my family."
"Very good, Emma. Thank you," Dr. Lowenstein starts a small clap before turning on the lights. Emma gathers her things and returns to her seat. She glances at the clock on the wall. There are only 3 or 4 more presentations before her first semester of college is officially over.
After the class is released Emma waits on Dr. Lowenstein. A couple of other students, ones that were very talkative during the semester, are saying their goodbyes. It takes a few minutes but eventually they clear out and he smiles as she approaches. "Good job today."
"Thanks," she says humbly.
"I look forward to reading the final paper."
"I think I am going to sign up for another class next semester. If I can find room for it."
"That's great! What are you looking at? Quite a few of them are full by now, but I might be able to pull some strings. Of course, if you're thinking of a minor you'll have to go back and take 101..." He thinks aloud.
"I'm not sure about any of that," Emma chuckles nervously.
"Well, I'm offering two classes that I think you'd find interesting. One of them is American Folklore and the other is The Anthropology of Magic. That's a first time class for me. Then Dr. Mallory offers a great Urban Folklore class."
"That all sounds really cool."
"Think it over and shoot me an email in the next few days. I'll see what I can get done for you. But make sure it's in the next few days, I'm going on a trip into the middle of nowhere."
"Will do," she smiles to him. "Have fun on your break."
"You as well."
"Dr. Lowenstein?" She asks before turning away. "Where are you from?"
"Ukraine. We immigrated to the States after the great famine."
......
Emma finds out quickly upon arrival home that Roman was being honest. Their trip would be far from normal. She only has a bit over 24 hours before she has to turn around and get right back on a plane. Kay is not exactly thrilled, but she tries to keep it to herself. Emma sees it, though, and feels bad. Roman seemed to hog all of her time when she was home.
She rarely thinks of it from her mother's perspective. Was it weird for her to come home some mornings and just see a luxury car sitting in her driveway? Or that her daughter had gone on vacations to places neither had ever heard of. Was she ever embarrassed to be working long nights? Emma never felt like she was.
Maybe she just hadn't noticed.
When Roman tells her it's a 15-hour flight she almost chokes. "How could any trip possibly be worth that, Roman. How?" He promises her that it will be fine but she dreads it anyways.
Most people would be concerned about seeming ungrateful. Emma is concerned about seeming any sort of way. She tries to not think about this as Roman giving her something. That makes her uncomfortable. Very uncomfortable. That's why at some point she just rolls with it and lets him make decisions.
The return to the airport late into the night. They're the last ones there, even though she anticipated being the only ones there. Roman, who was dressed in slacks and a button-up, is greeted by the others in their business clothing. Emma stands behind him and waits for everyone to move inside. Shivering in her yoga pants and jacket, no one seems to notice her.
After what feels like hours, Roman motions her forward. Before they get too close she tugs at his sleeve for attention. "I didn't know anyone else would be going," she stands up a bit taller to say it quietly.
"It's just a couple of assistants and stuff."
"So you'll still be working?"
"I have to work a little bit. Someone's got to pay for all of this," he shrugs with a smirk. "Oh, don't huff at me.
"Don't you-" Roman puts his hands up.
"Oh, come on. Loosen up," he laughs as she slaps at his arm. She follows behind him to their seats. "You can go back to sleep if you want to."
"I'm good."
......
14 hours, three edibles, a bottle of Pinot Noir, and several cigarettes later they have landed. Looking out from the car window Emma decides that this, no matter how picture-perfect, was not worth a 15-hour flight. She hadn't even factored jet lag into it yet.
Roman booked them one of those overwater bungalows and that causes Emma to roll her eyes. 'Why wouldn't I? I have the money.' She can hear him say in her head. The entire first day is wasted by oversleeping on a nap and ordering room service for dinner. When it's time to actually go to bed, Emma is shocked to see how many suitcases are sitting in the hallway.
"What are these extra suitcases?" She kicks her foot in their direction.
"Oh, just some extra clothes."
"Do you have a secret identity I should be aware of."
"No." He grabs a few of them and pulls them towards the closet. "Some of it's for you."
Emma grabs the one suitcase she had brought and follows him. "I packed plenty," she says taking a seat next to the suitcase.
"You don't have to unpack," he tells her before she even unzips it. "Someone will come to hang everything up tomorrow."
"It's not a big deal. I need stuff anyways," She responds almost astonished by his laziness. But is it laziness if it's the norm for you?
"If you insist," he sighs. "I think the grey and the little blue ones are yours too." He yawns and leaves her in the closet. She immediately moves towards the mystery luggage and digs through it. One is just shoes and the other is filled with brand new designer clothes.
"Roman," she calls. His feet patter until she can see him at the door. Having made himself comfy, he leans against the door in only his boxers and with his eyes droop."Why?"
"I thought you could use some stuff for dinners or brunch."
"What's wrong with how I dress?"
"Nothing," he says. She quirks her head at how obvious of a lie it is. "You dress fine, but y'know." He motions around the room. "I thought you'd maybe want to fit in with... the crowd."
"Are you afraid that being poor is contagious?" He laughs darkly at that.
"Wear what you want," he shrugs wanting to go back to bed. "Wear your clothes, or don't wear anything. I really don't care." He takes a long blink before turning around and leaving her alone.
"Weird," she mumbles to herself and continues unpacking.
Emma's not sure how long she sits in the closet. At this point, she's finished all of her clothing and is halfway done with Roman's. It doesn't feel like it's been that long, and maybe it hasn't, but she's in the zone. It feels good to see everything organized by color and occasion. She's so caught up in it that the sound of footsteps makes her jump.
Without a single thought or hesitation, Roman walks straight into the closet and throws her over his shoulder. "I'm in the middle-"
"Bedtime," he says groggily.
"Put me down," she says while smacking at his back.
"Bedtime," he repeats as he sets her on the bed.
"It's going to bother me if I don't finish it," she protests and sits up to leave.
"No. Bedtime." Like an anaconda, all of his limbs are wrapped around her and held tight. She wiggles but he gives no slack.
"Why is your body temperature so high?" She whines but in all honesty, she is very comfortable. The balcony doors are parted just a bit letting the cool breeze in and the sound of the ocean is pretty calming, I guess.
......
She sits on one of the lounge chairs reading a book. Every few minutes she peaks back to confirm that yes, Roman is still pacing around on the phone. The group of people that flew here with them sit at the dining room table vigorously typing away on their laptops.
They had been here three days and had been like this every single one. They'd wake up, have breakfast, then he'd disappear until the afternoon. When he'd saunter back from whatever meetings and conferences he had he'd be followed by Jenna, the 'social media manager.'
Emma scoffs when she first hears that. She understood why Roman might benefit from it. He's a young, attractive billionaire. But a bio-medical company? On what planet would people care about that?
Despite her annoyance, she'll deal with it for Roman. He had brought her all the way here, smiling for a few dumb photo's is the least she can do in return. That thought comes to her head organically and she tries to shake it. Since when is their friendship measured in who owed the other?
"You'll end up with tan lines," he jokes once the door is shut.
"If I took it off I'd end up with my tits out on your Instagram feed," she nods towards the small group gathering their belongings at the table.
"They're on their way out." Roman takes a seat on the edge of the chair. "Are you at least having fun?"
"Well." She shuts her book. "I did get ditched on a vacation that I didn't want to go on... But I am very drunk so the consensus is neutral."
"Doesn't sound too bad."
"It's okay." Roman turns to look out at the horizon. "Probably the best place to be ditched at."
They only leave their little private world to get dinner. She would never admit it, but he was right. Looking around, she did fit in better in the clothing he had packed for her. However, something still sat wrong with her.
"Roman," she leans in to speak quietly. "Do you ever feel like people are watching you?"
"Almost always," he says then takes a drink. "But I'm also incredibly attractive so..." She kicks him under the table.
"I'm not kidding."
"Seriously, you're being paranoid. No one is looking at you," he assures her. "You're just stressed, finish your drink."
With one last look around, she does as he says. He's right, no one is looking at her. And she has been stressed all semester- but that's not it.
......
On the rare occasion she does get on social media she checks Roman's 'account.' Today, she opens it and grits her teeth. There she is in all her glory, ass cheeks barely contained by her bikini. A photo she wasn't aware had been taken. She had expected the normal posed with a smiling photo they did. Not this.
She's fed up with it all. Maybe it's an overreaction. Maybe it's the culmination of all the time alone, the jet lag, and the months of building confidence in her body only for it to be displayed on the internet for everyone. Without a thought, she stands from her lounge chair and stomps towards the door.
At the table, everyone looks up and the noise of the door jolting open. It's a sliding door, so at it's loudest it still doesn't create the effect she intended. Phone in hand, she stops in front of Roman. He didn't post it, probably didn't know it was posted, but she was going to go to him. He would side with her. This was his problem to fix.
"What the fuck is this?" She shoves the phone close to his face. It's so close has to back away to see it.
"A photo," he says confused.
"I don't like my ass plastered on the internet."
"It's not," he insists. "You're being dramatic."
"If you want-" Jenna tries to mediate.
"She's fine," Roman stops her. "Don't worry about it."
"Stop trying to play tough because your employees are here," she sneers. "Take that shit down."
With that, she walks away to the bedroom. Not the one they've been sharing, the one that was supposed to be hers. Thankful that there's a real door on it, she slams it with a rattle.
She wants Roman to come apologize but she knows he won't. He's going to keep acting like he's the tough CEO that he wants to be. Like the one he had been getting away with until she was around. It's almost an hour later when she hears the crowd leaving and Roman approaching her door.
"What the fuck was that?" He asks before the door is fully open.
"What the fuck was that?" She asks back.
"You knew people were taking photos."
"I didn't know my ass was going to be on full display," she argues, sitting up fully. "Also, I can clearly see where they photoshopped my waist."
"So?" He remarks. "They just wanted it to look good."
"So, I don't look good normally?"
"That is not what I said."
"It is!"
"It is not! You're being ridiculous, you know that? It's not the end of the world. It's one photo. That's it. Is asking you for one thing on the vacation I took you on too much for you? We are on the other side of the fucking globe, couldn't you relax for like half a second? You're being a real brat," he concludes. She doesn't like his tone, the way he's addressing her like a child. Brat? Just because he acts like he has the emotional depth of a mule doesn't mean she does.
"I'm not some whore that's going to play along with you," she hisses and stands. "And I mean that in a literal way."
"Emma."
"Don't Emma me," she mimics him. "If you want to hang out with someone who's going to pose for your dumb fucking photos, and let you play dress up with them, and say yes sir, and I'm sorry daddy- I'm sure there are plenty of girls just dying for that opportunity. But don't fucking look here," she points at herself.
"Are you saying you don't want to be friends anymore?" He asks and sounds like a small child. Like a boy on a playground.
"I'm saying that if this friendship is going to continue you better humble yourself real fuckin' fast."
"And if I don't?" He snaps back to his signature Roman Godfrey attitude.
With her face threatening to start twitching, she turns around and puts on her sandals. She doesn't respond, she just makes a clear path to the front door.
"Where are you going?" He calls after her.
"I'm going for a walk."
She's not sure where she's headed. The resort was much larger than she remembered it being on the way in. When she's tired of walking she does what she does best: drinks away her feelings.
At the bar, she can feel a pair of eyes on her. With a subtle glance over her shoulder, she sees a couple in the corner looking at her. They look away quickly. She shakes it off with the excuse that it probably was a coincidence. But then she feels it again and catches them again.
She downs her margarita and is about to stand up and ask this couple what the fuck their problem was. Before she can stand a body blocks her. It's a middle-aged man. "Fight on your honeymoon?"
"Huh?" She asks looking around him. The couple has cleared out quickly.
"You look sad and angry. I figured you had a fight on your honeymoon." He takes a seat next to her.
"Oh," she squints at him. "I'm not married."
"Well, I just wanted to offer my advice. I can recognize that face, it's the same one my wife makes when I piss her off," he laughs. Emma grinds her teeth to a fake smile and looks for an escape. In what scenario would she want some random guy at a bar's advice?
"What's your advice?" She asks trying to get it over with and continue drinking.
"Don't underestimate how dumb men are. Our feet have taken up residence in our mouths." He says before asking for a beer.
"Isn't that incredibly dismissive of an entire gender?" She asks with a sassy tone and motions for a refill in her margarita. "And that's just an overall shitty excuse. I don't try and play my mistakes off as just being dumb. I own up to my shit and you probably should too." Emma stands with her drink, squeezing past him.
She can hear the wind before she can feel it. That's always the case in these tropical locations. The wind is chilly and followed by a crack of thunder. That's her signal to stand up straight and head back. Who knows how long the rain will last. Even though returning to Roman isn't ideal she refuses to get stranded in the lobby.
Emma makes it to her room without drawing any attention to herself. Roman's nowhere to be found and she's not going looking for him. He doesn't make himself known until she's laying in bed with her eyes closed. Opening them, she can see light beginning to spill in from the opening door.
"Come to bed," he says meekly.
"I am in bed."
"Are you just going to sleep in your swimsuit?" She doesn't answer. He sighs. "C'mon."
"If I can't trust you over something this small, how can I about anything else? You're supposed to have my back."
"I do have your back, but those are my employees. I have an appearance of authority that I have to uphold. You should have just told me, I would have taken care of it."
"It shouldn't have happened in the first place." She rolls over to look at him.
"It's not a big deal," he tells her. "Come to bed and go to sleep."
The next thing she sees is the blinding light of the bathroom. There's a vague memory of following Roman to bed and going to sleep but there's no memory of making it to the cold tile floor. It's freezing in the bathroom, or at least it is to her. Roman seems fine as he sits next to her with her forehead wrinkled in concern.
Coming fully to her senses, she feels dried tears on her cheeks. The smell of vomit seems to suffocate her until she's sick again. This time she's met with the sight of blood dripping from her nose onto the white toilet seat. A thick layer of cold sweat soaks into the clothing.
"I'll get you some pajamas," he announces softy. He leans down to wipe the excess blood from her nose. He makes sure he's out of sight before sucking his thumb clear of it.
She takes the moment to splash her face with cold water. Even with the shock upon contact, her mind renders blank. "What happened?" She asks.
"You probably just didn't eat dinner and drank too much," Roman theorizes as he returns with a clean shirt.
A/N: Hey guys! First off I wanted to say that I created a Tumblr to use as a mood board while I write. I had used a Pinterest for BaF but I thought something more public could be fun. I also thought it would be fun if anybody wanted to send asks or anything through there. I love interacting with everyone so feel free to send asks or anything!
I had a whole elaborate vacation planned for them, but I felt like it wasn't really pushing the plot forward. Either way, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. I'm really really excited for the next one
😬😬😬
https://eliaelliot.tumblr.com
It can be a lil laggy btw.
Much love!!!