The Lover's Children novel Chapter 57

GEORGIE

Borje sits as though frozen. He breathes. Breathes again. “Sometimes…” He speaks very softly… “… we have to accept that we are not what we think we are. Or what we think we want to be.” Abruptly, he grins, disarming me entirely. “Look at me. I grew up wanting to look like Robert de Niro. Y’know, the dark, craggy, ‘carved from Italian oak’ type. But here I am.” He spreads palms to the sky. “If I were an actor, they'd cast me as the Gestapo officer every time.”

I have to chuckle. “Robert de Niro? That sounds more like me. You could cast him as my dad, but not you.”

“Perhaps… But you are not your father.”

There’s a subtle emphasis to his words. But I can’t get a handle on what he’s saying. “Of course I’m not. But what's your problem? You're a handsome man. An unusually handsome man. Intelligent and educated. And charming with it. You must pull every woman you try with.”

His eyes soften. “I can pull, as you put it, when I want to, yes. And you…” He rests a fingertip on the hollow at the base of my throat… “… are a strong woman. But…” The fingertip taps at me. “…that doesn't necessarily mean what you think it does.”

Utterly baffled, “Borje, I don't understand you.”

He removes the fingertip, lips twitching. “I know you don't.” He moves closer. Close enough that I inhale his warmth and his fragrance. The fingertip returns, tracing the outline of my lips. "Poor little tough girl. Let it go, Georgie. Stop trying to be in charge all the time."

"I have to be in charge. My work..."

"You're not working now." The finger trails to my cheek and, without meaning to, I follow it, turning my face to kiss the tip.

Instantly, he withdraws, now wagging the finger. "Ah-ah..." But he smiles, taking the sting from his words... “You're still doing it.”

My eyes grow blurry and warm. "I don't know what it is you want from me."

"I know that too. I think it will come to you."

"You're trying to turn me into some sweet little doll to run around and do your bidding?"

"Sweet?” He huffs. “No, I doubt that. You'll never be sweet. You are, after all, still your father's daughter…”

My brain is full of fluff and I’m blinking rapidly, resisting the stinging behind my eyes.

“… But that doesn't mean I don't find you attractive." Borje moves closer, brushing his lips, fragrant and spicy from the food, over mine. I lean into the kiss, my lips parting, but once more, instantly, he withdraws. "You’re doing it again, Georgie. Still trying to take the lead."

The finger returns to the base of my neck. “Such a lovely part of the body, wouldn’t you say? That little hollow. So sensitive. It’s a shame it doesn’t have a better name.”

“Name? It has a name?”

“The suprasternal notch. Or the fossa jugularis sternalis. Or the incisura jugularis sternalis.”

“That sounds very… medical.”

“Quite.” He smiles lopsidedly. “Another name is the jugular notch.”

“That sounds even worse. Like something a murderer would aim for.”

“It does, doesn’t it. And there we are, such a lovely part of the body, so sensitive and we’ve not had the grace to gift it a more appropriate title.”

*****

KLEMPNER

The car pulled up ten minutes ago. Borje got out, strolled around and opened the passenger door for Georgie. He walked her to the hotel entrance. And now…

From my shadow, I watch them.

Why doesn't he touch her?

She wants him to.

…

Not a normal reaction.

…

Red-blooded male…

He looks healthy enough…

Attractive, willing woman.

He seems to want her.

…

Wouldn’t have him down as gay…

?

He fucked Jenny…

He’s talking to her. Looks as though he’s saying goodnight. Craning, I try to pick out what they're saying, but the drift of music from indoors cloaks the words.

I survey the area for a closer lurking spot, but there’s nowhere I could reach without being seen. Frustrated, I settle for watching.

What's going on here?

It's not normal.

Am I a good judge of normal?