by Lee, Nadia
Chapter Three
David
After lunch, I feel somewhat better about the horror of having my pregnant cousin and her husband hanging on the wall. Okay, not really, but I can get ready for a charity function tonight and pretend they aren’t sharing my bedroom.
I hope Mom isn’t expecting babies to be created with Jan and Matt staring at me and my future wife. Not even Viagra would work in that scenario.
One shower, shave and tuxedo later, I climb into my lime-green Lamborghini to pick up Charlotte, a friend with currently expired benefits. Actually, the benefits came before the friendship. Now there are no more benefits to be had because we mutually decided to end that component six months ago. But we still go to social functions as each other’s date. It works great, especially when we’re both uninterested in serious relationships. Real dates can get the wrong idea and start picking out china.
Tonight’s event is for struggling single parents and underprivileged children, a cause both Charlotte and I care deeply about. We make it a point to donate and attend functions to raise money and create as much awareness as possible.
Charlotte lives in a gated community. She told me she downsized to reduce her carbon footprint. I don’t know if a six-bedroom house with its own pool, hot tub and home theater would really be considered a small carbon footprint, but it has solar panels, which must count for something.
An unfamiliar sports car sits in her driveway. She must’ve gotten a new one. She loves fast wheels, the fancier the better.
I park behind her new vehicle, get out and walk toward the door, then hit the button hidden on the lion’s-head knocker. That’s how she knows it’s a friend visiting, rather than some stranger she doesn’t feel like rushing out for.
The door opens, and I can feel my jaw slacken. Charlotte stands there, her hair pixie style and colored a particularly blinding shade of pink that I didn’t know could be found in a dye bottle. But that’s not all. She’s not dressed for a high-society function. No, she’s in a thin silk robe that matches her hair. From the way her nipples are sticking out, I’m certain she’s not wearing a bra…probably not panties, either. Her face is makeup-free, but it’s glowing. Not the way pregnant women glow, but the way post-orgasmic women glow, her cheeks rosy, her eyes hooded and glittering.
“Were you masturbating?” I ask with a laugh. It’d be just like her to pencil in an orgasm before an event like the one we’re about to attend. Hopefully she also penciled in “hurry up and get ready” after it.
She giggles breathlessly. “No. You know I don’t do that unless I absolutely have to.”
That’s true enough, and Charlotte is rarely without a sex partner.
“You do realize we have a charity auction to attend.” I make a big deal out of glancing at my watch. How much time is she going to need to get rid of her sex buddy and get ready? She probably doesn’t need a lot of makeup because she’s glowing already, but a dress? Can she pick one and slither into it in under five minutes?
“Oh.” She places her red-tipped fingertips on a corner of her mouth. “Is that today?”
“Yes. Didn’t my assistant send you a reminder yesterday?” As much as I love Charlotte, she can be absent-minded. I make it my job to remind her because that’s easier than trying to change her. Well, I make it Erin’s job. And she’s never failed before.
“Probably. But I forgot.” Charlotte tugs at my hand. “Come on in. I have something I need to say.”
I follow her in, and she flutters her fingers at her pale cream and yellow couch, indicating I should sit. The gesture is practiced, like everything she does.
I plant my butt on the sofa and wait for her to tell me whatever she needs to unload. She won’t get ready unless she does. As long as we can make the auction portion of the event, I’m okay.
She perches delicately on the armrest of another couch. “I’m not interested in men anymore. Just not feeling the attraction vibe, you know?”
“Since when?” And why does she think I have to know this now? It isn’t like we’re planning to have sex anytime soon. And she knows I won’t judge her for getting with whoever can give her the best orgasm.
“Since half an hour ago. I’ve decided to finally admit I’m in love, rather than be in denial about it, which was hard. I mean, me, right? In love?” She puts a hand to her chest and makes a sound that’s halfway between scoff and laugh.
I’m not sure what she expects me to say. “Uh… Congratulations?” Maybe now she’ll start getting dressed.
She beams. “I knew you’d understand. Anyway, since I’m going to be, you know, true to myself from now on…”
True to herself?
“…I really can’t go with you tonight. It would be weird, don’t you think?”
Shit. I sigh, torn between affection for her and annoyance at my situation. “You couldn’t have fallen in love yesterday?” I might’ve found somebody to go with if I had some time. But now…?
She plays with her thumbs in a small pretense at contrition. “Sorry. I didn’t know yesterday.”
Despite being a little annoyed, I decide to give her a pass. She’s been a hardcore fuck-’em-and-chuck-’em bachelorette for years. This has to be a big deal for her. And although I’m fond of her, I was never in love with her.
“Hey, I’m happy for you.” I smile to let her know I’m not upset and tilt my gaze toward the second floor. “Do I get to meet the other team?”
Charlotte laughs, the sound like a tinkling bell. “She’s a little shy. Besides, she’s in the Jacuzzi. I was about to join her when you showed up.” She pads over to the kitchen counter and rummages through her purse. “Here. My ticket. You can have it. Take somebody you want to be in love with.”
I take the ticket, even while knowing I’m not going to do that. I used to have somebody I cared about, until she backstabbed me. And I haven’t been looking for anyone to replace her. I’ll never make myself that vulnerable to anybody ever again.
Still, I smile and say, “Thanks, but it’s a little too late to find a date.”
She wags a finger. “But never too late to find true love. Anyway, hope you have fun tonight. And we should have lunch sometime next week, or…”
“Just text me a date and time.”
I leave, knowing she’s going to forget. Maybe her new girlfriend will be better about getting her to keep track of her social calendar.
I drive to the auction hotel, scrolling through my contact list, but nobody is suitable as a last-minute substitute date. My own fault: I dumped every one of my previous dates, Charlotte being the only exception. I’d rather not have any post-event drama because of a misunderstanding on the substitute’s part. And it’s not like I need a date to contribute to the cause.
The Blackwood Foundation is co-hosting the event with the Pryce Family Foundation. All the guests have been pulled from the crème de la crème of society, those who can afford to contribute to the cause by purchasing tickets and bidding. Court Blackwood, the man in charge of the Blackwood Foundation, is fairly new at this, but Elizabeth King has been running the Pryce Family Foundation for years and is a pro. I’m familiar with her because she’s my friend Dane’s cousin. It’s one of the great mysteries of the universe how a woman that nice can share a bloodline with him.
“Hello, David,” she greets me as I walk in. She’s dressed in a green cape dress, her golden hair down. She looks more like a teenager than a woman who’s running one of the world’s biggest privately funded charitable organizations.
“Hey, Elizabeth. Great to see you again.”
“And you. I’m glad you’re here.”
“Dane didn’t come?”
She shakes her head. “He hates events like this. Apparently sending a check should be enough.” She rolls her eyes.
That sounds just like Dane. I pat her hand. “What can you do except humor The Icicle?”
Laughing a little, she nods. “Have you met Court Blackwood?” She catches the eye of a young, dark-ha
ired guy, and he comes over. “Court Blackwood, David Darling.”
We shake hands. He has a good, strong grip.
“Nice to meet you,” Court says.
“It looks like your event’s going to be a success,” I say, my gaze flicking over the glittering crowd.
He smiles. “Thanks. But it’s Elizabeth’s doing.”
“He’s being modest,” she says with a smile.
After exchanging a few more pleasantries, I leave the receiving line to mingle and let Elizabeth and Court see to the other arrivals.
A waiter passes by with a tray. I snag a glass of red wine, have a sip and am immediately impressed. Mom would like it. I should ask about the vintage so I can send her a case. Maybe then she’ll let me take down the photo in my room. Or at least flip it over so Jan and Matt are staring at the wall, rather than me.
I could try that anyway, but if she asks, I won’t be able to lie. She has a way of making you crack. She should’ve been an interrogator for the CIA.
I spot a private wealth manager I’ve always wanted to meet and start moving toward him. But then a hand comes to rest on my arm, stopping me in my tracks.
“David?”
Every cell in my body freezes at the soft, tentative voice.
I turn to face Shelly Morris, my ex…and the woman I once thought I’d marry.
Chapter Four
David
When your ex leaves you, ripping your heart out during the process, you don’t ever want to see that person again. The thing is, it never mattered what I wanted because she’s the daughter of my mom’s best friend in Virginia. So of course I knew I’d run into her again at some point.
But I thought I’d see her back home in Dulles, not in Los Angeles. She took a job in Seattle, then threw our relationship away like a month-old avocado when I told her that I didn’t want to give up my career and uproot everything to move.
If that’s all there was, we might possibly have become friends again once the hurt faded away. But there was more.
She slept with both the interviewer and her new potential boss to get the job, which I found out after she moved away to Seattle. If I’d given up my career at Sweet Darlings to be with her, I would’ve been the biggest sucker of the century.
“You look good,” she says in a repulsively coy tone.
“You look…different.” Her hair is as straight and silky black as before. But it used to have threads of warm brown and gold running through it. Now it’s straight anthracite. And her eyes seem unnaturally wide and vivid. Probably circle lenses. They’re cosmetic contacts that make your irises look much larger than they are, giving you that doll-like, youthful appearance. Sweet Darlings’ app has a filter to add that particular effect to a user’s eyes.
It makes her look creepy. Like a living, talking doll.
“I didn’t realize you were in Los Angeles.” Or that you had enough connections to be at this auction. The Morrises aren’t poor, but they don’t travel in the same circles as the people here.
Maybe her Seattle boss brought her. She’s probably fucking the guy for extra perks.
“I came here for you,” she says with a bright smile, the one I used to adore. But now it looks calculating and manipulative. She places a hand on my shoulder. “I miss you.”
I brush the hand off like it’s rotting garbage, watch the wattage of her smile dim with frigid satisfaction. “Really? What about your career? Your boss okay with you being so far from the office?”
“Don’t be like that. I know you’re still single.”
I hope she’s not volunteering to be my girlfriend again, because I’d rather date a rattlesnake. Saying we ended on an ugly note would be an understatement. She declared loudly she was moving on, without the dead weight named David Darling around her neck.
But what galls me the most is the way she’s saying I’m single. Like I’m still pining over her. Like I’m a loser who can’t function without her.
My ego bristles. And I wish to hell that Charlotte hadn’t discovered the love of her life this afternoon. Then Shelly wouldn’t have approached and ruined an otherwise fine evening.
When I don’t respond, she gives me another smile, this time more understanding. It’s obviously designed to make me forget what she did. Taking the job in Seattle, labeling me a burden to her career ambitions… These are things she’s obviously confident she can recover from.
But I know far too much about her betrayal, even if she doesn’t know that I know it. She’s never bouncing back. The us that used to be is gone forever.
“My mom told me,” Shelly says, crinkling her eyes. Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. “She said you’ve been single since we broke up. And I totally get it. The scene right now… It isn’t easy.” To find someone to replace me.
Damn it. Our mothers are very close. When the weather’s nice they play tennis together, and when it’s bad they play squash. Mom thinks hanging out with Mrs. Morris is perfect—she gets to exercise and gossip at the same time. And since I never told her what Shelly really did to me, Mom has no reason to keep things from Shelly’s mom.
“Your mother’s intel is out of date,” I say flatly. “I have a girlfriend.”
“Is that so?”
“Yup. I’ve decided to be, uh, true to myself.”
Shelly’s brow furrows. “True to yourself? What does that even mean?”
“I’m in love.”
She turns so pale so fast that I wonder if she’s going to faint. I start to tense, to spring into action to catch her, then stop. A woman who thinks nothing of cheating on her boyfriend to get a job on the opposite end of the country won’t just collapse because the boyfriend is in love with somebody else now.
“Who?” she demands, her voice turning shaky and accusing. “And why doesn’t your mother know about this?”
“Because I haven’t told her yet. Not my mom, but my girlfriend.” I shrug carelessly, hiding my satisfaction. “But I plan to. And soon, since my decision to be true to myself was made very recently.”
“Are you going to marry her?” Her voice quavers, like she’s the injured party.
“None of your damn business” is on the tip of my tongue, but I give her an “I’m so crazy about my girlfriend” smile instead. “Isn’t that what people do when they’re in love?”
Her lips thin, and she stares at me hard, calculating. Tired of wasting time with her, I finish my wine and start to turn away.
“So where is she?” she demands, stopping me. “I know you came alone.”
Has she been watching me? What kind of game is she playing? “She’s here. You just missed her.”
A determined gleam enters her eyes. “Then I have to meet her.”
Fuck. She’s not going to give up. I know that look. The last time I saw it, she was declaring that we were moving to Seattle.
I lean in and lower my voice. “Tell you what. Why don’t you run along to whoever it is on the corporate ladder you’re fucking these days and leave me alone?” With luck, this will piss her off enough to make her disappear.
She stares. “How could you say such a hateful thing?”
It’s so ridiculous that I can’t even laugh. Before I can think of another cutting remark, she adds, “I came here alone. I thought we could reconnect.”
She looks up at me, wide eyes pleading and lower lip trembling, and I realize she’s serious. She simply won’t accept that I’m not into her anymore unless I produce the woman I just made up.
Well, there’s no way I’m going to suffer through Shelly stalking me for the rest of the night to “reconnect.” I’d rather strip naked, put a string of fish over my private parts and run a marathon through starving feral cats.
She’s probably going back to Seattle after the evening’s over, so whatever. I’ll show her the love of my life she’s so desperate to meet. If she tells her mom and her mom tells mine, I’ll just say Shelly was high on something and misunderstood the situation.
“Stick ar
ound if you want, then,” I say coolly. “I’ll introduce you if she feels like meeting you.”
Shelly’s mien changes and she crosses her arms. “Why? She not confident enough to meet an old girlfriend?”
“No. She just doesn’t like to waste her time with trash.”
Crimson colors her face as she sputters. Before she can recover, I make my way to the bathroom, keeping my pace steady and calm. I need to think in silence, someplace away from her. She’s a shameless bitch, but not shameless enough to follow me into the men’s room.
The bathroom is empty. I go into one of the stalls and lock the door. Then I pull out my phone and scroll down my contact list.
Since Charlotte’s out of the question, who’s left? None of my hookups, obviously. I don’t even remember most of their names, and I’m not sure they could play the role right, even if I was desperate enough to risk a “misunderstanding.”
Erin.
I pause when I see my assistant’s name. She’s nice, pretty and quick. A fast learner. And she’s likable, sweet…everything Shelly isn’t.
But it’s Saturday night. My mom already interrupted Erin’s weekend once. Do I want to bug her again?
The answer is no, so I start thumbing past her name. But it quickly becomes obvious that there’s nobody else. I haven’t been in California long enough to make a lot of friends who could help in a situation like this. If this were Virginia, any of my female cousins would be able to hook me up with one of their friends, but…
I scroll back up to Erin’s name. Hopefully she isn’t out on a date or something. There’s a special kind of hell for bosses who screw up a hot date.
On the other hand, why would she be out on a date? She’s not interested in anyone that I know of.
Crossing my fingers, I press the button, then clear my throat.
“Hi, David,” she says chirpily.
“Hi, Erin.” A finger stuck in my other ear, I listen carefully. No laughter or loud music. So she’s probably not at a restaurant or a club. On the other hand, she could be inside a theater, just before the movie is about to begin. “Am I interrupting anything?”