Bittersweet Deceit
Page 5
“No, I’m still raging hard and plan to save it for tomorrow night.”
“Don’t hurt yourself,” I said, laughing.
“Oh, do not worry, I plan to take it out—I think I heard someone moving upstairs. I should head up before Victoria wonders where I got off to. Sweet dreams, love. Got to go.”
“Sweet dreams to you too,” I said automatically, but the click of the phone left me unsure if he even heard me. The quick cut off left me stunned. “Fuck, fuck, fuck on a stick!” I yelled after putting the cell phone back into its charging station. Part of me wanted to see him, needed to see him, like an addiction without its fix. Another part wished I had the gumption to tell him to go to hell.
I lay in bed thinking of what I would say to Jacqs about cancelling plans and wondering if I was more like my father than I originally thought. My dad seemed to put up with whatever my mother tossed his way, like I did with Mason.
CHAPTER FOUR
Starting Now
by Ingrid Michaelson
At work on Wednesday, I sat in front of the computer staring at nothing. I had awoke in a fog that morning and had yet to clear the clouds. I was tempted to steal out before opening time to get a second cup of coffee and forgo the breakfast I’d brought with me. My disrupted sleep and anxiety over my relationship with Mason left my stomach in a state of unrest. I decided to text Jacqs to hopefully reduce the knot in my gut. I hated cancelling on her, but I figured she would understand.
Me: Hey, Jacqs, let me know when you have minute to talk.
I wouldn’t be a wimp and cancel plans over text. My phone rang a few seconds later.
“If you’re calling me first thing in the morning, it can’t be good,” Jacqs said. “Is everything okay?”
“I’m not going to make it tonight because—”
“Because Mason’s free,” she said and in the background I could hear water running.
“Yes, girl. I’m sorry for cancelling at the last minute. Can we reschedule for next week?”
“You know I’m going to say yes, Lainie, but now I’m the one worrying. Do you know what you’re doing, because this doesn’t seem like you? Hang on a second.” Jacqs must have been in the bathroom, because the sound of paper towel ripping filled the silence. She continued, “You hate it when other people try to control your life and you’re letting Mason.”
“You’re not saying anything I’m not saying to myself. You know how you would go running every time Bond would call?”
“Yes, of course. It hasn’t been that long.”
“I finally understand.” I paused for a second and drank the last sip of coffee. “It’s like part of me wants to say no, to stand strong, but I have no idea when I’ll see him again and I have no say in it at all. I give in every time because when we’re together, the rest of the world falls away and there’s no other place I’d be.”
“Oh, trust me, girl, I get it. I also know what the down times are like and I promise you, it will keep wearing at you. You’ve seen me go through it enough times. You already seem different and I don’t think it’s healthy for you. Having said that, you know I’ll be here for you, no matter what.”
“Thank you. Life is strange, isn’t it?” I asked as I walked to the sink and rinsed out my to-go cup.
“It sure the fuck is.”
“Did you get what you were expecting on the boat outing?” I sat back in my chair and spun it away from the desk.
“Aidan would correct you and say yacht, but to answer your question, yes. It was really great, but this week I’m starting to feel that twist in my stomach again. Something is up with Bond and I’m sure it will be showing up soon.”
“It or her?”
“Yes.”
I shook my head. “I hope you’re wrong.”
“So do I.”
“I have to open the shop soon, but if you—”
“Yeah, I have to go too. I’m supposed to be meeting with my boss shortly.”
“Is that still going well?” I asked. I stood up, smoothed out my dress, and headed toward the front door.
“Oh, I don’t miss my old job at all. Ted’s great and I get to see Aidan often.”
“That’s a very nice perk.” I unlocked the door and turned the sign around.
“Like you can’t imagine. I’ve got to run, but I might be by your way around lunchtime. Shall I bring a bite?”
“I’d love to see you today since I won’t be going to Red’s later. Let Sam know you’re bringing the food. Love you, girl.”
“Love you too and see you soon.”
It was a slow business day, but we kept busy anyway. After our lunch with Jacqs, Samantha helped me place the new purchase order and switch around a couple of clothing displays. It was time to have all the shorts and bathing suits close to the front and the dresses, pants, and jeans toward the back.
“Hey, Sam, do you mind if I skip out a bit early,” I said, scanning around the shop and loving how everything seemed to be in perfect order. It was only five o’clock, but I wanted to give myself plenty of time to shower before Mason’s arrival.
“Oh, no problem at all. See you at Red’s?”
“Sorry, I meant to tell you earlier, I won’t be able to make it tonight. Have fun and please tell the gang I said hi and that I’ll see them next week.”
She looked perplexed and said, “Yeah, okay. Have a good night and see you tomorrow.”
I tossed her the extra set of keys and headed out the back.
Mason and I alternated between role playing and intimate sex so I knew tonight would be special. I laid out the cheese, grapes, and crackers I had purchased on the way home so we had something to snack on after we worked up an appetite. I also had a few bottles of his favorite red wine open to breathe and extra food in the refrigerator in case he missed dinner altogether.
I slipped into his favorite lingerie including garters and stockings and as the time drew closer to his arrival, my excitement grew. I had sufficiently rationalized away all my angst as I got ready for him. He had made every effort to spend time with me, even staying over Saturday night, which was a special treat. Down to the bone I believed he loved me and even though I knew it wouldn’t be forever, I would try to be happy in the now and not think about the future.
By 7:15 p.m. he hadn’t showed and I received no text, message, or email. I scrolled through my memory and felt certain that he said he would arrive between six and seven o’clock. He is probably just running a bit behind, I told myself. I sent a quick email asking if he was on his way.
At seven thirty I wrapped myself in my robe, grabbed a cold hard apple cider in one hand and my cell phone in the other, and went out on the back balcony. I left the sliding glass door open so I would hear if he arrived. It was a beautiful, temperate night in Fort Lauderdale. Below, a young couple sat on the edge of the pool, dangling their legs in the water. I watched them for a few minutes as I twisted off the top of the bottle and took a few sips.
Leaning over the railing, I smoked one of my Natural American Spirit cigarettes. I planned to gargle quickly before opening the front door so he wouldn’t smell the smoke on me. I still expected him to arrive any minute.
When 7:40 p.m. rolled around, I rested my drink on the ground and debated about texting Mason, something I never did while he was in town. Fuck it!
Me: Where are you? Are you still coming? Are you okay?
By eight o’clock, I still hadn’t heard from him and I steamed with anger. I didn’t bother trying to reach him again. Leaving the food and wine where it sat, I changed out of my lingerie and into jeans, a black top, and flip-flops. I ran a brush through my light-brown hair, grabbed my purse, and headed to Red’s house.
On the way, I picked up a six-pack of Angry Orchard Hard Cider and then parked my silver two-seater along the road just past the house. Red’s large cream-colored home with a red barrel tile roof, had tall palms out front with multiple arching windows.
I let myself in, and found the fr
ont of the house quiet. As always, his place was immaculately clean, something I really respected about him. The hardwood floors sparkled as I strolled through the wide doors under the high ceilings. The large, bright kitchen was equally devoid of human life, but I could see a few of our group out back. I left my purse on the counter and put five of the hard apple ciders in the side door of the fridge, twisting the cap off of the sixth.
Jacqs wasn’t out back so I went looking for her in Red’s game room. The warm wood-paneled room held two pool tables, a dart board, a couch, a bench, and two high-top tables. Stayman, Kevin, and Catherine were each holding a cue stick, talking. They turned to face me as I entered.
Kev, like Cat, dressed fashionably punk, and seemed partial to skinny jeans or baggy pants but nothing in between. However he wore attire utterly different to his usual garb and his spiked, short, blonde hair lay flat.
“We thought you weren’t going to make it tonight. Jacqs said—” Kev started.
“Yeah, my plans changed.” Ignoring Stay’s half-cocked smile, I said, “Dude, what’s up with the do and the clothes?”
“The principal at the high school wants me to take over managing the other counselors and in his not so humble opinion, toning down my look will help me garner respect. Of course my students are having a good laugh at my normal clothes.”
“When does that job start?”
“Next school year. It’s a pretty good bump in pay and gives me a little more control over the department. I’ll still dress like me when we go out, of course.” His dark-blue jeans and a button-down, short-sleeved, black shirt seemed a vast departure, but not a bad one to me.
“Sounds great. Plus, I like this look on you,” I said.
“You mean when we all get used to it,” Cat said as she twitched her nose.
Quickly changing the subject, I said, “Nice skirt Cat.”
“You like?” she said, swaying from left to right. She wore the red leather skirt she just purchased from my store along with a black leather vest I’d seen her wear before.
“Definitely. It looks much better on you.” I could feel Stay’s stare, but I had yet to make eye contact with him.
“You’re crazy, Lane,” Cat said, leaning against her pool stick and rocking back and forth from her heels to her toes. “With those long legs? Not a chance. I’d flip you if you were into that sort of thing.”
I shoved her shoulder and whispered, “I’m all about the cock.”
So the guys could hear her, she said, “It’s a stellar apparatus, but you don’t know what you’re missing.”
“Cut it out!” I said as I chuckled.
“I have to agree with Cat,” Stay said. “I bet you look very sexy in that skirt.”
I turned to face him and said, “Several sizes larger and—”
“Some men like curves.” Stay raised his eyebrows.
He stood about an inch or so taller than me and had a smaller build than Red. He projected an understated sexuality, but mischief often showed in his bright, blue eyes and crooked smile. Mason’s blue eyes were much lighter in comparison, but Stay’s held a fierce intensity, at least when he looked at me. Like I possessed something only I could give to him, although we didn’t know each other well. He had been absent from the get togethers for a while and only recently began attending again. He seemed closest to Bond out of our group.
He frequently dressed in blue jeans and a plaid, long-sleeved shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Although thirty-five, like Bond and Red, his smooth complexion made him look younger. He usually shaved his head bald, but his golden brown hair had started growing back in.
When my eyes finally met Stay’s, I could feel the energy in his intention. The words got caught in my throat for a second and then I managed to get out, “Where’s Jacqs? I didn’t see her outside.”
“She wasn’t feeling well and went upstairs. She wasn’t sure if she ate some bad food at lunch or is coming down with something.”
Ugh, I thought. I took another sip of my drink and licked my lips, trying to decide whether to go home or finish my drink.
“You’re debating something in your head,” Stay said as he placed his cue stick on the wall rack. “I wanted to talk about Friday night. Care to go for a walk outside?”
Cat and Kev started setting up the pool balls for another game as Stay stepped closer to me.
“How long has Jacqs been upstairs?” I said, taking a step back.
“She was already upstairs when we arrived. You can check with Red to see—”
“That’s okay. I don’t want to bother her if she’s not feeling well. I’ll call her tomorrow.”
“Let’s get that walk.”
I stood there trying to find a polite way to brush him off, but I didn’t have it in me. Instead I finished my drink and walked out into the main part of the house heading for the kitchen. I put the empty bottle in the recycling bin and grabbed another.
Stay reached around me and took a chilled bottle of water off the shelf and held it in the crook of his arm. Then, before I could say otherwise, he took the apple cider out of my hands and opened it for me.
“I can do that myself,” I said.
“I’m certain you can do all sorts of things for yourself.” The way he said it sounded sexually provocative.
I glanced up at him and paused. Shaking my head, I thought, I must have sex on the brain, because he seems like the perfect gentlemen.
“Shall we?” he said, extending his hand in front of him, beckoning me to go first.
We exited the front door and walked side by side down the street. I didn’t know what to say, so I took another sip of the cider. My stomach roiled for a second and then it quickly past.
“Why don’t we catch some dinner before the concert?” Stay asked as our arms swung in unison.
I almost expected him to grab my hand, which was a crazy. Mason standing me up clearly had muddled my sense of reason.
“I can pick you up from the boutique at five-thirty and that should give us plenty of time.”
“Well, I—oh!” I yelled, bending over at the waist.
He took the cider out of my hand and laid his large, warm palm on my back. “Are you okay?”
I shook my head, wishing I stood anywhere other than the side of the road getting ready to wretch in the bushes with an audience.
Stay set the cider and water bottle down on the street, and then gently lifted my hair off my shoulders, holding it in his right hand. With his other, he made soft circle on my back.
Tears poured down my cheeks and I couldn’t do anything to stop it. I hiccupped once just before I divested myself of the contents in my stomach. When I stood and stepped back, I wiped my mouth on the back of my hand and said, “I’m not drunk.”
Stay pulled a blue, woven handkerchief out of his back pocket and handed it to me. “I know you’re not. It must be the lunch you had with Jacqs. I wonder how Sam’s feeling.”
I stared up at him and it was almost like seeing him for the first time. Who was the man standing in front of me? I knew nothing of importance about him. Who carries a handkerchief anymore? “Um, thank you. I’m sorry you had to see that.”
“Not at all,” he said, still holding my hair back. He pressed the cold water bottle against my neck.
I sighed and wiped my eyes and then my mouth with the cloth. Whether it was the food poising, or Stay being nice to me, or Mason standing me up, I felt at the very edge of a major breakdown. Too shaky to drive, I tried to mull over my choices. My head hurt and my stomach roiled again.
“Are you feeling any better? Do you want some water?”
“I’m scared if I ... oh shit.” I gulped trying to force down the emotions threatening to erupt.
“Do you need to throw up again?”
I shook my head. His look held such compassion that my tears mutinied against my will. I only ever let myself fall apart when alone, or in my father’s arms when I was a little girl. I felt so exposed and embarrassed.
&nb
sp; Stay took the cap off the water bottle and handed it to me and then walked me back toward the house.
I sipped the water slowly as I continued to cry, using the hanky to wipe my tears.
“I’ll drive you home. Where’s your bag?”
“No,” I said, my lower lip trembling. “I don’t cry in front of people.”
“I won’t tell a soul.” He smiled.
His expression triggered another wave of grief, causing my shoulders to shake as I tried to keep the sound in. Instead funny noises came out and I started laughing through the tears.
“It’s going to be okay, Lane.” He helped me over to his blue Prius and we stood by the passenger door.
I took a few deep breaths and said, “I have to be at the store early tomorrow and I’m worried I might—”
“We can worry about the logistics in the morning and I’ll grab a plastic shopping bag just in case you get sick again. You might want to keep the door open until—”
“I promise not to throw up in your car.”
He winked and took off toward the house.
CHAPTER FIVE
I Know You Care
by Ellie Goulding
I took a shuddering breath and looked around the interior of the car to distract myself from all the emotion and nausea that threatened to spill out: a stack of library books and a crimpled shirt on the backseat, a pressed, white, Polo shirt with long sleeves hung from the handrail, a paper shopping bag full of trash sat on the floor between the two front seats. The outside of the car looked clean, but the inside needed a good vacuuming.
The driver’s side door opened and Stay managed to get his long body inside. “Your coloring looks much better,” he said, handing me my purse and a plastic bag. “I have good news and bad news.”
“Ugh. Give me the good news first.”
“Sam says she feels fine and has an iron stomach. She still has the keys and will open the shop at ten and said not to rush in. The bad news came from Red who said that Jacqs threw up a few times before she finally fell asleep.”