Love to Hate You

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Love to Hate You Page 11

by Jo Watson


  “Um, I’m not really sure what you want me to do with these?” I looked over at the strange man. He always wore a polyester tracksuit, no matter what the weather was. He never wore closed shoes either, instead he always wore brown leather sandals, his long grey toenails always on display. He had a full mop of white hair that never looked brushed, a massive Magnum P.I. moustache and always wore a gold chain around his neck. He was at least eighty years old, and according to the stories, had lived in this building his entire life, since the day he was born.

  “Body corporate meeting,” he suddenly declared loudly and started marching across the parking lot.

  Shit. He was right. We all met on the last Sunday of the month, every three months, and that was tonight. I rolled my eyes. As part of my living arrangement with JJ and Bruce, I was the one who went to the usually torturous meetings. The tenants didn’t need to go and seldom did, but JJ, being naturally suspicious of people, “wanted to keep an eye on things.”

  “Okay. Coming,” I said begrudgingly, feeling that I would rather be stuck on the side of the road right now, still drenched in cold, earthworm water.

  I looked over at Ben who had just climbed out of his car. “I have to go to a body corporate meeting now, so see you … .?” I left the question open-ended.

  “I’ll come with.” He walked over to me and took the box of biscuits from my hands.

  “You really, really don’t have to.” I shot him a look in which I was trying to convey the following sentiment; worst, most tedious, deathly boring meetings that this world has ever known.

  But Ben just shrugged, “After you.” He gestured for me to continue walking.

  Raymond’s flat was on the bottom floor, at the end of a very long corridor. The last few meters were always a little tricky to navigate, what with the massive collection of pot plants, garden gnomes and the two big, blue porcelain dogs flanking the doorway.

  “Interesting,” I heard Ben mumble from behind me.

  “Just wait until you get inside,” I whispered back to him, stepping into the house. I’d seen the interior many times before, but I always loved watching people’s reactions to it when they were seeing it for the first time. Ben stood there with his jaw open.

  “It’s very …” he muttered under his breath, not finishing the thought, which many people did.

  “I know,” I said. His home was plucked straight from one of those TV episodes about hoarders. There was barely anywhere to stand, let alone sit. Magazines, records and old shoeboxes filled most of the floor and were built into tall towers that looked as if they could fall over at any moment. Then there were the ornaments; every conceivable place was filled with at least six.

  “Take a seat,” Raymond barked at Ben and I and we both obeyed. The dining room looked like the only room in the house that wasn’t full, probably because of these meetings. I sat down in one of the chairs, as Ben sat opposite me, still looking around. Soon some of the regular meeting-goers arrived. Raymond always squeezed twenty-five chairs into his small dining room, but inevitably only six people came. Tonight, thanks to Ben, there were seven.

  I was very used to these meetings. Raymond was going to go over all the relevant topics; building insurance, levies, security, apartment rules and regulations and then finally, after what usually amounted to at least an hour, he opened the floor to any concerns and questions. I usually spaced out within the first five minutes, even the sight of Ben across the table from me wasn’t enough to keep me present. I had almost completely zoned out, when my phone beeped. Everyone turned and looked at me.

  “Sorry.” I pulled it out of my pocket and looked down at the screen.

  Ben: It’s very hard to concentrate knowing that you’re not wearing a bra under that jacket of mine.

  I snapped my head up and looked over at Ben, he was smiling from ear to ear, and I felt my cheeks flush. I looked back down to the phone and started typing.

  Sera: Pervert!

  I pressed send and forced myself not to look in his direction, but out of the corner of my eye, I could see him typing on his phone. I quickly put my phone onto silent and waited.

  Ben: Look who’s talking … you were trying to feel me up in the car earlier!

  “What?” I only realized I’d said it out loud after a few seconds, when Raymond stopped talking and everyone in the room looked at me again. “Sorry, nothing.” I gave them all a smile and went straight back down to my phone.

  Sera: I did NO such thing. You’re imagining things.

  Ben: Nope. I definitely didn’t imagine your hand on my arm and your fingers running their way up and down my neck.

  I read the message and looked up at him, attempting my best incredulous look, but no doubt failing at it.

  Ben: Were you going to kiss me, Sera?

  Sera: No!

  Ben: Are you sure? Because it kind of looked like you were about to before the phone rang?

  My stomach knotted with excitement and I tried to stop the smile that was clearly giving my feelings away. Why did he always have the ability to drag me into these moments, despite my resolve not to get swept away? I looked around, no one had noticed what we were doing, and this only added to my now growing excitement.

  Sera: Ben, you have a very overactive imagination.

  Ben: Oh yes I do. ;) Would you like to know what I’m imagining … right now?

  Sera: No.

  I quickly replied and then looked back up at him. His smile had changed. From flirtatious and playful, to that filthy, dangerous one that made you lose your wits. I crossed my legs tightly and clutched the jacket, in case both suddenly fell open.

  Ben: Liar. Of course you do.

  I shook my head at him and folded my arms.

  Ben: Stop pretending, you’re dying to know …

  The butterflies in my stomach started beating their wings and my heart quickened. I knew that if I continued this conversation, there was a very strong possibility that it might lead to more clothes coming off tonight.

  Sera: Okay, fine. Tell me then.

  I pressed send and braced myself for what was coming next. No doubt it would be a barrage of wildly inappropriate sexual innuendos, only it wasn’t. I sat up, caught off guard by his response when it finally came through.

  Ben: I was imagining what sleeping next to you would feel like?

  25. A Pristine Clean Sheen

  I slowly looked up from my phone. Ben had put his phone down on the room table, and was leaning back in his chair looking at me. He smiled, as if he knew he’d gotten me with that message. As if he knew that he had successfully just reeled me in. As if he knew a comment like that, one that was so intimate, was far harder to resist than the ones laced with sex. Our eyes locked and my stomach tightened.

  And then, as if Ben had reached across the table with invisible hands and grabbed hold of me, I felt myself being pulled towards him. It was a physical feeling, and it was so incredibly intense. In that moment, every part of my body wanted to be on the other side of that table with him, it was almost too much to bear. I felt my body begin to lean slightly, and saw Ben lean too.

  “Okay! I’ll now open it up to the floor, does anyone have anything they’d like to add?” Suddenly, Raymond’s voice snapped me back to reality. I looked away from Ben, towards the yawning, shaking heads of the other tenants.

  “If no one has anything to add, I’d like to raise an issue.” Raymond paused for a moment, as if trying to create a moment of gravitas, a dramatic beat before something explosive. “Something very, very disturbing has been brought to my attention.” His voice lowered and his demeanor changed to something ominous. “And this is not the first time it’s happened either. But it has to be the last.”

  I could see he had people’s attention now.

  “Someone, possibly in this room even, has been deliberately breaking the rules, over and over again, with potentially catastrophic consequences.” His voice took on a sinister quality now and everyone was transfixed.

  “A
nd I have the evidence to prove it.” He stood up, marched across the room and began digging in a bag. I felt my phone vibrate and looked down.

  Ben: What do you think it is?

  Sera: ??

  Ben: I hope it’s something terribly juicy. I’m dying of boredom here.

  Sera: Me too! I’d give anything for some action right now.

  Raymond returned to his seat, and without another word, put a box down on the table. Everyone leaned in to read it, including myself. I recognized the box immediately, of course. It was mine.

  “Someone,” he boomed dramatically, “Someone has been using hand washing laundry detergent powder in the automatic washing machines.”

  There was a strange pause in the room, as if people were trying to decide whether this was even a problem. There were a few, however, who were shaking their heads, as if they knew what an issue this was, and how appalled they all were by the discovery.

  Oh for heaven’s sake. What difference did it make anyway? It’s not like my hand washing powder was damaging the machines!

  “And for those of you who are wondering why this is such an issue, let me explain.” He picked the box up. “Hand washing detergent produces a lot of suds, which in an automatic washing machine prevents your clothes from getting properly clean. So, if you’re using this in our washing machine, you are depriving us all of ever having truly clean clothes.”

  I tried not to roll my eyes at the absolute absurdity of all this. I looked around and could see that his words were having an effect on a few people, who were now looking down at their clothes.

  “So, if the user of this illegal powder is in the room, or if there is anyone in this room has any information on the matter, I urge you to come forward.”

  And then something truly bizarre happened. Ben put his hand up and cleared his throat.

  “Hi, I’m Ben White, I’ve just moved in and I think I might have some useful information about the perpetrator of this crime.”

  “Mr. White. Firstly, welcome on behalf of everyone here, and please go ahead and share the information.”

  “Thank you,” Ben said, nodding in a grave, serious manner. What the hell was he up to?

  “This morning I was in the parking lot when I walked past the laundry room.” He paused and looked somewhat pained. As if he was about to share something that he really didn’t want to. “I hate to say it, but—” he looked up at me and I sat up straight.

  No, he wasn’t! Surely not?

  “I saw who was using the washing powder. And that person is sitting in this very room,” he raised his arm and then pointed straight at me. “Her.” He said it so loudly that I was sure it was going to echo off the walls.

  “What?” I sat up in my seat, utterly shocked that Ben had just ousted me. Everyone turned and looked at me. “I … I …” I stuttered uncomfortably and then looked over at Ben, I could see he was trying to hide a smile. The bastard!

  “Sera, is this true?” Raymond turned and asked me.

  “Yes, Sera, is this true?” Ben asked too.

  “I … I … I mean, yes. No. I mean, I didn’t know there was a difference between hand washing powder and automatic powder.”

  Ben gasped loudly and his hand came up to his chest, clutching it as if in shock. “You didn’t know the difference?” He repeated the words slowly and deliberately. I could see others were starting to buy into this act, and a few were eyeing me with growing disapproval.

  “It all makes sense now! No wonder my shirts haven’t been gleaming with that pristine clean sheen lately,” Ben said.

  “Huh?” I looked at him, he was running his hands over his shirt now, as if he was searching it for imperfections. I shook my head. “This is ridiculous. Clothes don’t gleam.”

  “But it says so on the box.” Ben suddenly grabbed the box and held it up, reading the words that were printed across it in bright orange. “Sun & Surf Detergent; For clothes that gleam with a pristine clean sheen.”

  “Oh please!” I laughed and then looked at everyone in the room.

  “If it’s on the box, it must be true,” Ben quickly said.

  “Oh really?” I countered, “Because no one in advertising ever lies?”

  “Absolutely not.” Ben pointed back to the box, “And look here,” he read the words off the other side of it, “As seen on TV.” He paused, scanning the crowd, looking deeply into their eyes, and then he spoke again. “And we all know that if it’s on TV, it must be true.”

  A few heads in the room nodded, but a few were now looking confused.

  “By using this detergent, Sera, you are depriving us of our right to clothes that gleam with a pristine clean sheen.” He smacked the box back down on the table and folded his arms.

  “And what about our right to sleep?” I too looked around the room, “Who heard those terrible noises at two-thirty a.m. the other morning?”

  A few people nodded again. “I thought I heard something,” one of the older ladies said. “Me too,” someone else echoed.

  “Well, it was him.” It was my turn to point this time. “He probably wasn’t thinking about our God-given right to sleep when he was drilling into the wall and moving furniture around, was he?” I turned and looked at Ben, he wasn’t even trying to hide his smile now.

  “I actually did receive a complaint about noise the other night, but they didn’t know where it was specifically coming from,” Raymond chirped up.

  “Well, I know where it was coming from.” I waggled my finger at him. “Ben White!”

  “Noise is nothing, Sera De La Haye, but clothes that don’t gleam, are everything.” He stuck a finger right back at me.

  “What? That doesn’t even make sense, Ben.”

  “Fashion is forever, Sera.”

  I shook my head at him. “What are you even talking about? Besides, why are you so suddenly concerned about clothes anyway, it’s not like you go to great lengths to keep them on!” I fired back, knowing full well he’d probably have a good retort for that. And he did.

  His eyes moved down to my chest and he bit his lip, “I could say the same for you, Sera!”

  “Okay, okay!” Raymond held his hands up in the air. “Let’s all calm down here. I think we’ve clearly touched on some very serious matters here and obviously you two have very serious feelings about them.”

  “Yes! I have very serious feelings about her.” Ben turned and looked and locked eyes with me. “Very serious,” he repeated slowly. I swallowed hard and felt the heat rising in my cheeks once more.

  “Well, I don’t think this is the time or place for it, perhaps you two should meet privately to discuss this further and come to a resolution.”

  “Great idea,” Ben said. “I definitely think Sera and I should meet privately to discuss this matter further.” Ben looked at me and winked. I tried to bite back a smile, but couldn’t. “In fact, how about Sera and I meet right now in private to clear this all up.”

  “Uh, I suppose we’ve almost finished,” Raymond said, looking thrown.

  “Excellent.” Ben shot out of his seat and then looked over at me. “Your place or mine, Sera?”

  “Uh …” I stood up out of my chair.

  “Come, we’ll decide on the way.” Ben started exiting and I followed him, excusing myself from the meeting.

  “I can’t believe you did that!” I said when we were out of earshot.

  “You were the one that wanted some action.” We walked down the long corridor towards the lift.

  “Yes, that wasn’t really what I was imagining, though.”

  “It did the trick, didn’t it?” Ben nudged me with his shoulder.

  “But now everyone thinks I’m some laundry criminal who’s ruining their clothes.”

  We reached the lift and I was about to reach out and press the button, when Ben stepped in front of me, blocking them. “That’s true, and the question is, how should we punish you?”

  “Punish me?”

  “Mmm-hmmm. It’s clear you’ve been
a very naughty girl.”

  I burst out laughing. “Do you honestly think that line is going to work on me?”

  Ben smiled, “Not really. But it was kind of fun to say.”

  I shook my head, pushed him aside and then pressed the button for the top floor. We stood in silence waiting for the lift to open. When it did, I stepped inside, but Ben didn’t.

  “Aren’t you coming?” I asked.

  He shook his head and stopped the lift door from closing with his foot. “I have to go back to work. Calendar-shoot crisis.”

  “But it’s nine.”

  “I know, and I was supposed to be there two hours ago to see what everyone is working on. But I got kind of busy.” He smiled at me.

  “You bunked work to fix my tyre and then sit in a boring body corporate meeting?” I asked, feeling beyond flattered.

  “Something like that.” He moved his foot and the doors started closing.

  “Bye, Sera,” he said, as his face began disappearing behind the steel door.

  “Ben,” I said, just as the doors closed and the lift started moving.

  My phone suddenly vibrated and I looked down at it.

  Ben: Did we just have a Mr. Grey, Miss. Steele moment at the lift doors?

  Sera: HAHAH! Omg, I think we just did!

  I laughed and cringed at the thought of it.

  Sera: And OMG, I can’t believe you’ve watched that movie btw!?

  Ben: My brother made me watch it with him! Not an experience I would like to repeat, EVER!

  Sera: I can imagine.

  Ben: BTW, hasn’t the new one just opened? Wanna watch it with me?

  Sera: NO!

  Ben: Yeah. I agree. Besides, whips and chains and blindfolds aren’t really my thing.

  My stomach dropped to the floor as the lift doors opened. We were back here, once more. And again, I didn’t put a stop to it. Instead, I continued.

  Sera: Really?

  Ben: Mmmm, I prefer not to have any distractions, or anything coming between us.

  Sera: Us?

  Ben: Hopefully ;) Soon …

  26. At First I Was Afraid …

 

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