Doppelbanger

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Doppelbanger Page 23

by Heather M. Orgeron


  “My entire life I’ve been surrounded by people who eat meat. I can’t say that it doesn’t bother me, but it’s not something I allow to ruin relationships and friendships over, ya know? If you can sleep easy knowing you ate Bambi for dinner...”

  “Like the dead,” I assure her.

  “I believe it. You had some major rigor mortis setting in,” she teases, clutching my now semi hard-on in her palm.

  CHAPTER SIX

  BAMP! BAMP! BAMP!

  Morning already? Ugh. Reaching out, I begin blindly slapping my hand at my iPhone until the alarm stops. Then I feel for Valerie, hoping for a morning quickie, and find the bed where she was asleep just hours ago ice cold. Nice.

  Feeling a little let down, I trudge to the shower to get ready for work. When I go back into the room to grab my phone before heading out, I find a folded-up note, written on the back of a crumpled receipt she must’ve found lying around the room.

  Butcher,

  Sorry to run out on you so early. Thanks again for helping me with school and for...well, you know. After. Here’s my number, if you want to text me or maybe call. If not, no biggie. Just wanted you to have it. (555) 333-1234. Have a great day at work dicing up feral animals. *winky face*

  Your girl,

  Val

  XOXOXOX

  My girl. It’s a little frightening how much I like the sound of that.

  There’s a renewed bounce in my step as I practically skip down the stairs, relieved that she didn’t just run out on me.

  “My, aren’t we full of sunshine and rainbows this morning?” Jerome snickers, waiting for me with a cup of coffee in his outstretched hand.

  Snatching the Yeti tumbler away, I glare at him. “Yeah, you better come with a peace offering, you sick fuck.”

  “Dude, that girl is fucking ho—”

  “Don’t,” I deadpan in a tone boding no argument.

  “Man, you are really into this chick,” he says like it’s the strangest thing he’s ever heard.

  I answer with a shrug.

  “Damn it! What happened to playing the field? Single life. Sowing oats and all that shit?”

  He’s right. That was the plan. I wasn’t looking to tie myself to any girl. I get that he’s a little perturbed. “I don’t know,” I answer honestly because I don’t have a single fucking clue why I’ve become so obsessed with this woman.

  §

  “Pete, can you stop looking at that phone with those googly eyes and that gay ass smile for two minutes. It’s fucking disturbing,” Jerome grumbles like a petulant child. “I had to put up with that shit all day yesterday, now today too. She’ll be back at work tomorrow. Chill. For real. We’ve got a business to run.”

  “You’re one to talk. Creeper. I wasn’t the one getting off on your dick the other night.” I am never going to let him live that shit down, even if he is sort of right. I have been preoccupied with my phone since Val gave me her digits.

  Jerome gets this weird look on his face, but it’s gone in an instant. Maybe I imagined it. “Speaking of your dick...Did she do it?”

  Ignoring his question, I slip the phone into my pocket, slap on a pair of latex gloves, and go to work chopping up another chicken. All of a sudden I’ve grown a conscience and that bet has my gut churning with guilt. If Val ever found out...

  “Oh no. You don’t get to avoid the question. A bet’s a bet. Ain’t my fault you went and fell for the girl...”

  Before I can tell him to fuck off, I hear a gasp from the rear entry. I don’t even have to turn around to know that Valerie is standing right behind me. Of course she is.

  “Well, butcher,” Val says, her voice unusually high pitched. “You gonna answer the man or what? A bet’s a fucking bet, and I’m just dying to know the results.”

  Shit. Dropping the knife, I remove my gloves as I turn to face her. Her honey eyes are welling with tears. “Baby girl, shit. Just give me a minute to get cleaned up and I’ll explain.”

  She shakes her head and tears begin to trickle down her cheeks. “What was the bet, Peter? It’s not a difficult question.” We’re back to Peter. Ouch.

  “I wasn’t going to tell him, Val. I swear it.”

  “Tell. Him. What?” The break in her voice is a knife in my gut.

  “Jerome bet me that you wouldn’t swallow...because of the vegan thing.”

  Silently she nods her head, no doubt replaying the early morning events of yesterday and the stupid comment I made. “How much?” she croaks.

  “Five hundred dollars.”

  Val’s mouth falls to the floor. “So that’s why you came on to me?” Her eyes narrow as she takes a few steps back. “It had nothing to do with destiny or even attraction...I was a bet.”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  Fuck. “I mean, yes, but that was before.”

  She snorts, rolling her eyes.

  “I wasn’t going to tell him. I swear it.” I start toward her, and she holds her hands up, palms out.

  “I have to go. Really, it’s for the best. You are certainly not worth losing my job over.” Then she turns to leave, and I don’t even bother to follow her, because what else can I say? She needs time. Hell, I need time to figure out how to fix this shit.

  “You knew she was behind me.” It’s not a question, and he doesn’t bother trying to deny it.

  “I’m sorry, man,” Jerome says, hanging his head. “I don’t know what possessed me to do that.”

  “That was fucked up,” is all I can manage.

  Jerome is jealous, much like he was when I dated Roxy. The difference is, I allowed his antics back then because I didn’t actually want to be in a relationship with her. Valerie is different. I can tell by the look on his face that Jerome gets that now.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “SHE STILL NOT talking to ya?” Jerome inquires on our morning drive to the shop.

  “Nope.” I’m trying really hard not to lose my cool with him again. It’s been four damn days and she hasn’t answered a single text or phone call. Turns her head whenever she sees me around.

  “Want some advice?”

  “Nope,” I reply, increasing the volume on the radio in hopes he will just shut up already.

  Jerome turns the radio off, ignoring me. “All right. Here’s what I think...Little Miss Exhibitionist didn’t fall for some watered down, pussified version of Pete Johnson. She knows you’re fucking sorry, man. You can only say the words so many times before you start to look pathetic.”

  I planned on tuning him out, but this idiot is actually making some sense. Weird.

  “I’m listening.”

  “You need to go balls to the wall, man. Get in her face. Be assertive and go after what you want. That’s what won her over in the first place. Trust me, it wasn’t your charm.”

  “I’m charming.”

  Jerome gives me a side-eyed smirk. “As a pig in shit, but you make it work.”

  §

  At 8:30, I leave Jerome to run the market and head over to the bagel place for dinner. It’s Thursday night and Val’s night to close. The way I see it, if I can get in while there are still people, there’s a damn good chance she won’t throw me out on my ass.

  A sick feeling settles in my stomach, but I waltz right up to the counter with as much confidence as I can muster. Fake it ’til ya make it, right? Val instinctively licks her lips as she undresses me with her eyes. My blood heats under her perusal as a knowing smile splits my face. “See something you like?” I ask, breaking her stare.

  A blush appears on her cheeks as she shakes herself from a stupor. Val clears her throat loudly. “Mr. Johnson, what can I get for you?” she asks, all businesslike.

  “Miss Cooter,” I answer, giving her my best smolder.

  She widens her eyes in annoyance. “I asked what you want.”

  Placing my palms on the counter, I lean in close, invading her space. Breathing in her scent. “And I answered. Are you not on the menu tonight?”

  Her
arms cross over her chest, pushing those perfect little titties up. “Order something to eat or leave, Peter. Don’t make a scene.”

  “I’d like to eat you,” I husk, my voice low and seductive. “I’d like to spread you out on that counter back there and eat that pretty pu—”

  “Pete!” she hisses, glancing around at the other customers to make sure they didn’t hear me.

  “And just like that, we’re pals.”

  “We are not.”

  “You called me Pete.”

  “That’s your name.”

  I give her a knowing wink. I’d already forgotten how much fun this is...getting her all flustered. “Fine. What do you suggest?”

  She blows out a sigh of relief. “What are you in the mood for?”

  “I already told you...” My eyes rove over her body, taking in every curve. “But you shot me down.”

  Her blush deepens, spreading down her neck and to the tops of her breasts. “Most of the men seem to like the number ten. It’s a bagel with asparagus and shiitake mushrooms grilled with garlic and green onion. We top it off with guacamole, lime, cilantro, and hot sauce. How’s that sound?”

  “Like it would be delightful with some grilled chicken.”

  The bell chimes and a family of four lines up behind me. “Be with you in just a moment,” my girl says sweetly.

  “I’ll take two of those shiitake things.”

  She puts in my order and tells me to go and find a seat and that she’ll bring it out when it’s ready.

  I pick the small booth in the back corner, away from the other customers. Adrenaline is rushing through my veins. I’m feeling really good about how this is going so far. Guess Jerome isn’t a complete dumbass after all.

  “Nice shirt,” Val says, practically breathing fire as she sets my plate down in front of me with a little more force than necessary. Guess I had her too flustered to notice it when I first walked in.

  “Too soon?” I ask, glancing down at the shirt in question, which says, “Once you put my meat in your mouth, you’re gonna wanna swallow.” It was a risk, I admit. I wasn’t sure how she’d take it.

  “You have some balls, Peter.”

  I waggle my brows suggestively. “I do, but you already knew that, baby girl.”

  Valerie hangs her head, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration, before turning and heading back toward the front of the store without another word.

  “Hey, waitress,” I call out, loud enough that she’ll look rude to the other customers if she doesn’t respond.

  “Yeah?”

  “Play your cards right, and I’ll give you more than just the tip.”

  §

  “Why are you still here?” Val asks, slamming my bill down on the table in front of me. “We’re closed.”

  “Ahhh.” I sigh, cupping the side of her face. “Alone at last.”

  She pushes my hand away, backing up a few paces. “Cut the shit, Peter.”

  “I’m waiting for my dessert,” I reply, scanning her body from head to toe, finally zeroing in on her tits. I zone out for a moment, picturing her trussed up, spread wide. “I bet you’re dripping wet. Just oozing sweetness,” I groan.

  Her legs press together and her breathing changes. “Please stop,” she whimpers, on the verge of tears, or orgasm, possibly both. One of which I can handle, the other I don’t care to ever see again.

  Deciding I’ve pushed enough for one night, I dig my card out of my wallet and hand it to her. “Can I just stick around until you close up? I hate leaving you here alone.”

  “You have your own place to close.”

  “Jerome’s got it covered. That fucker owes me,” I bite out with a little more venom than intended.

  “In that case, follow me.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I say, trailing behind like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs.

  “I’ll just be right over here,” I say, walking over to the stool at the edge of the counter.

  “Oh no, fucker...You owe me,” she says, throwing my own words back in my face. “I’ve got some homework to take care of.”

  “You sure you don’t want me to do the homework instead?” I taunt.

  A wet rag flies across the room, smacking me in the chest. “Get to work.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “WELCOME TO THE Vegan Bagel Shop. What can I get for y—”

  Valerie stops midsentence when she realizes that it’s only me. I’ve been here every day for either breakfast or dinner, depending on her schedule, for the past week and a half. Val pretends to be annoyed by me, but I can tell she’s secretly enjoying my visits.

  “Good morning, pal.”

  “I see you got the shirt,” she says with a shit-eating grin splitting her pretty face. When I arrived home yesterday, there was an Amazon box sitting at the door from an unknown sender. Inside was a bright green “I *heart* tofu” T-shirt. Of course, I knew right away who sent it. I’ve tried that nasty shit cooked a million different ways since starting my quest to earn Valerie’s forgiveness, and it’s disgusting. Val thinks she’s funny, but I’m funnier.

  “I did...” I stare right at her as I lower the book in my hand that’s strategically covering the alteration I made to her gift. With a black Sharpie and the addition of two letters, it could just be my new favorite.

  Val’s eyes narrow when she sees what I’ve done, but even she can’t help but laugh at the shirt that now reads, “I *heart* tofuCK.”

  “True statement,” I add, giving her a wink.

  “What am I going to do with you?” she asks, her voice low and seductive.

  “You could start with forgiving me...then come over to my place tonight and we could do something I love.” Underlining the words on my chest with a finger, I give her another exaggerated wink and waggle my brows. “I have no doubt that you’ll love it just as much...if not more.”

  Before Val can turn me down...again, Vanessa walks in, and I kid you not, she’s wearing the same fucking shirt as me, minus the enhancements, of course. So, hers is not half as cool as mine.

  “Mr. Johnson, I thought I told you that I didn’t want you back in my shop.” Up ’til now, I’ve managed to avoid running into her, purposely timing my visits to be gone fifteen minutes before she arrives. Today, however, she’s early.

  “Did you? I must’ve forgotten...Nice shirt.”

  The compliment causes her to take notice of my own, and I swear her face turns ten shades of red. “You’re disgusting.”

  “Sex is natural, Cruella...It’s a hell of a mood stabilizer too. You should give it a shot...Fuck out some of that aggression. Can’t be good for you.”

  Vanessa gasps, her mouth falling open.

  Val’s eyes bulge out of her head as she pulls her lips inward to keep from laughing. She moves a finger across her throat in a cut-it-out gesture, but I’ve never been one to quit while I’m ahead.

  “How’s your protein? Have you had that checked recently? I have a friend. His standards aren’t all that high. I bet he’d be willing to take one for the good of humanity.”

  Her face is damn near purple, her jaw ticking side to side. “Get the hell out of my shop before I have you thrown out,” she grits through clenched teeth.

  I throw my hands up in surrender. “Was just on my way out. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

  But before turning to leave, I reach my hand across the counter, cup the side of Val’s face, and plant my lips right on hers, and it thrills me to no end when she releases the faintest of moans. “You know where to find me, pretty girl.”

  §

  My girl: Thanks a lot, jerk.

  She must be talking about the kiss. I bet Cruella just loved that. I snicker to myself as I type out a reply. God, I’m awesome.

  Me: You’re welcome. It was good for me too.

  My girl: Vanessa has been on my ass since you left. If you come over here again, she’s going to fire me. Please stay away.

  This bitch is really starting to piss me th
e fuck off. Who the hell does she think she is anyway?

  Me: So fucking let her. You can come work for me.

  My girl: No offense, Pete. But, I can’t stomach being around all of those dead animals. Your shop makes me nauseous.

  Me: I’ll stay away if you say you forgive me...

  My girl: Fine. I forgive you.

  Me: And you’ll come over to my place for dinner tonight...

  My girl: Pete...

  Me: I’m on my way.

  My girl: NO! I’ll be there at 7. Happy now?

  Me: Now tell me you wanna fuck me.

  My girl: Pete!

  Me: Save the screaming for later, baby, when you’re riding my bologna pony. Now say it, or I’m coming.

  My girl: You wanna fuck me.

  Me: God, you have no fucking clue how true that is. How much I ache to be inside of you again, pretty girl. To watch you come apart on my cock. To run my tongue over every inch of your body.

  Fuck. Just typing that message has my dick throbbing. Adjusting myself, I hit send and stare at the screen, awaiting her response. Her previous replies came almost immediately, but a full ten minutes pass before it finally comes.

  My girl: Me too...See you at 7.

  §

  What the hell was I thinking inviting her over for dinner? Feeding her vegetables just feels like a really shitty date. And since I had to open my big mouth and invite her over for dinner and a fuck...it’s definitely progressed from a booty call to a date.

  Nothing says I’m into you like a big, juicy cut of steak. It’s dating 101. I’m seriously stumped. What’s the veggie equivalent to filet?

  “Jerome...what am I going to feed her?” I’m pacing our kitchen, alternating between staring into the fridge and the pantry, as if the contents will somehow change.

  It’s six o’clock, and we just got home, leaving the new guy, Stan, to close up tonight. I’ve got to throw dinner together and shower within the hour. There’s no time for a grocery run.

  “Dude, slap your dick on a bed of lettuce and call it a day. Veggies and a meat substitute. Voila!” He takes an exaggerated bow.

 

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